#i think hes a man marked by the spiral through and through

[earthtokhal]

It's 4 a.m., and I woke up still absolutely fuming about yesterday because where was Daniel's team? After everything that happened, where was his management team? Why did THEY allow this to spiral like this?

Daniel's take on all of this was fairly positive until he had a shitty quali and then once again got hounded by the same journalists asking the same questions and then it seems like he just simply accepted it.

I think vcarb, Red Bull, and Daniel's own management team severely mismanaged things.

The cash app guy deleting his video doesn't mean too much to me as I was also very surprised that he posted it in the first place because while he posted it from a "fan/friend" point of view answering in his own capacity, he indirectly answered as his company. He told us, through his own personal ig that the company didn't know.

I do not know what the sponsors have to say about this, visa, cashapp but Hugo, their weekend was greatly overshadowed by mismanagement. If this was to be his last, every single one of those sponsors could have capitalized.

After everything that happened with Mcalren, all I wanted was for him to leave on his own terms. Whether he decided to stay and drive for vcarb again, whether he decided to go to Audi or whether he got the Red Bull seat. I wanted him to be on his terms, but the constant talk surrounding his contract took away any chance of that happening regardless of how and what was decided and so I thought, if this was it, they'd let him announce it properly.

Horner, despite making all that noise about how Mclaren treated him, actually did something worse because Daniel trusted him. Daniel put his career back in Horners hand despite everything and trusted him. I do not think there's anything salvageable of their relationship after Spa and now this mess.

I find the timing of all of this oddly specific. We had so many people cryptic posting just two weeks ago, that photographer saying the general idea is that Daniel would take over the red bull seat and then we went to baku expecting a shit storm and it never came. We were just in the eye of the storm. When the "rumor" dropped this week, I thought what a coincidence that it happened just before media day, and so all the questions shifted from performance or what crash to Daniel and he stood alone in the lions den.

It seems like Red Bull hasn't decided (while it's likely looking like it is what it is) and they chose to remain hot and cold about it like they always have been and it absolutely spiraled.

The media surrounding all of this was absolutely atrocious. They allowed people with less impact on the sport to leave with more dignity. They tore him apart, they questioned every single thing until he stood there, tears in his eyes accepting it. This man is a veteran of the sport. A man whose legacy will have a direct link on the grid next year in Jack Doohan. A man who made an incredible mark on our current world champion. A man who had people looking at red bull last year going "they're always ruthless but this is their son."

And at the end of it all, when they backed him against a wall after a long, frustrating weekend, they're all writing messages for him. They wanted to have their cake and eat it too.

Regardless of what's to come, I hope Daniel is incredibly proud of his perseverance. I hope he knows that despite all the noise, he did what he intended to do, he fell back in love with the sport. He proved to himself he still had it. I hope he knows how many fell in love with the sport because of him and how many people learnt so much about his sport. I hope he truly knows the impact he had on this sport and how despite it refusing to love him back like he deserved, he had shone a light on it so bright that it went global.

Daniel Ricciardo will always be THAT guy, and I hope he knows it.

Whatever happens next, I'm glad I found him, and I'm glad I got to experience him being back on the grid.

[sm0kebreaks]

such a pet peeve to read things where ppl refer to the mass ritual as the watchers crown

[starryhyuck]

pairing: alpha!soulmate!jeno x afab!omega!reader

words: 2.9k+

summary: your first meeting with the notorious lee jeno sends you spiraling into heat.

genre: smut

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, knotting, breeding kink, cunnilingus, degradation, mating, some public sex

“You’re coming with me to the Governor’s Ball tonight.”

Your eyebrow raises at Hyewon, who is eagerly sitting across from you, practically jumping out of her seat. The Beta in her is naturally timid, so she must be extremely excited to be acting this way.

“And why would I do that?” You ask, displaying no interest in the event. “It’s just going to be a room filled with rowdy Alphas.”

“That’s why we’re going, duh,” Hyewon says as if you’ve lost a few brain cells. “It won’t just be an event with any regular Alpha — these Alphas will be the most handsome and richest of all!”

Hyewon comes from an affluent family that has an expectation of her to marry wealthy. You know she has been trying for years to pair with any man who has millions in his bank account, yet none of them can match her standards.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t care less about finding an Alpha to mate with. You’ve always envisioned yourself with a calmer Beta, someone who had realistic goals and expectations and wasn’t driven by the feral nature of their genetics. Alphas are known for being possessive and dominant, and it just doesn’t seem like an ideal relationship for you.

“Hyewon, I really don’t think that’s my scene.”

“Come on,” she pouts at you. “Do you know how lucky you are to be an Omega? I would kill to present like you and have every Alpha bend to my whim.”

The statement is slightly exaggerated but not entirely untrue. As an Omega, you do recognize that you have more of a leverage with Alphas as your scent is naturally more alluring to them than a Beta’s. However, you have always opposed the idea that Omegas are solely born to satisfy Alphas. They see you as nothing but a hole to fill and a neck to be marked.

Hyewon clutches to your wrist and pleads loudly, drawing looks from other students lingering in the cafe.

“Please, please, please-“

“Okay!” You huff, withdrawing your hand and looking down bashfully. “Fine, I’ll go with you.”

She throws her arms up and cheers happily.

—

Hyewon wraps you in a stuffy, form fitting dress which is covered head to toe in expensive crystals. She insists you have to shine at the event in order to stand out from all the other Omegas in attendance tonight. Despite your indifference, you let her play dress up as she wants.

She tugs you into the lavish Governor’s Ball, where most of the political leaders of your town are gathered. Hyewon’s eyes lock into the Lee family, the most influential household in werewolf existence.

You don’t know much about the Lee family despite their powerful presence, but Hyewon is quick to fill in the gaps. “That’s Lee Taeyong,” she whispers to you as she points to the stoic man standing across the room. “He’s the oldest, and he’s actually nicer than he looks. The one next to him is the middle child, Lee Mark.” The man she points to has a similar bored expression painting his face, slowly swirling his champagne glass to find a source of amusement. You can tell from the lilt in Hyewon’s voice that he is the Alpha she has her sights set on for the night. “And that guy is the youngest, Lee Jeno. Don’t even try with him, he’s a waste of time.”

Your eyebrows furrow at the Alpha, who appears angrier than any other male in this ballroom. You can practically feel his disdain coursing through your veins.

“Why is he so… grumpy?”

She laughs at your question. “I told you, he’s a waste of time. He’s always pissed off at these events for no reason and hates it when any Beta or Omega tries to make conversation with him. He’s the worst Lee brother to mate with.”

Hyewon soon leaves you to your own devices, heading off to try and win Mark over. You awkwardly make conversation with a few other Omegas around you, but they seem more interested in gathering the attention of the Lee brothers than actually engaging with you.

Midway through the event, you head to the bathroom down the corridor to freshen up. You gasp when you turn the corner and suddenly ram straight into someone’s chest. Your champagne glass falls to the floor and shatters across the marble, but that is the last thing you’re concerned about.

Your body suddenly starts to feel like it’s on fire, heat spreading through your core rapidly. You choke and clutch your stomach, glancing up to see the reason behind your misery.

Jeno stands in front of you, eyes blooming red as he drinks you in. You pant and take a step back from him, recognizing the signs of your approaching heat.

But that can’t be possible — your heat isn’t due to come for another few weeks.

“W-What did y-you do-“ You wheeze, embarrassed by the slick dampening your panties.

“Omega,” Jeno says, stern glare painting his face as he reaches for you. “Calm down.”

His fingers brush by your mating gland and you gasp. His touch feels like someone rubbed a match and lit a fire against your skin. You turn and run as fast as you can, reentering the ballroom and darting straight for Hyewon’s figure. Every Alpha’s head turns at the scent of your growing heat, baring their teeth at your lewd display.

“Hyewon,” you beg, clutching her arm. “You need to take me home.”

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

As a Beta, Hyewon can’t smell your growing arousal or detect the signs of you going into your heat. All she sees is her friend with a desperate look on her face. Mark, who is standing across from her, shifts his predatory gaze to you. Hyewon notices the change in him and she quickly pulls you behind her.

“A-Are you going into heat?” She asks quietly.

You nod and whimper. She asks no further questions, wrenching your figure close to hers and locating the nearest exit. She shoves you into the first limousine in the parking lot and shuts the door behind her, shouting your address at the driver.

You grasp her elbow and cry. “Hyewon, this is a strong one-“

A wave of arousal shoots down your spine, causing you to fall deeper and deeper into your subspace. If Hyewon doesn’t lock you in your bedroom soon, you’re afraid you might offer yourself to the first Alpha you see.

“Why didn’t you say you were about to go into heat?” She chastises, grabbing a tissue to dab at your sweltering forehead. “Let me call Jaemin.”

You stop her from taking her phone out of her purse. “N-No, don’t call him. I don’t want him.”

“What? You always use Jaemin for your heats.”

“No,” you shake your head, still unsure of why you’re denying her. She’s right — since your first heat, you have always asked Na Jaemin to come over and take care of you. He was a family friend and never took advantage of you at your worst. However, there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that’s telling you Jaemin is the last Alpha you want to see right now. “Just get me home.”

You barely register Hyewon helping you into your apartment, faintly remembering her guiding you to your bed.

“W-What should I-“

“Please leave,” you say, writhing and desperately pulling at the zipper of your dress to get it off you. “Trust me, you don’t want to see me like this.”

She frowns, her voice filled with concern. “But-“

“Please, Hyewon,” you plead. “Thank you for getting me here but you need to leave.”

You hear the front door close just as you fling your dress to the floor, quickly locating your vibrator in your nightstand. You pull your panties to the side and sigh in relief when you sink the toy into your heat. It only quenches your pain slightly, but it’s enough to simmer down the fire in your belly.

You’re unaware of how much time has passed when there’s another knock at your door. You’re writhing on the bed sheets, begging for another orgasm as your hand has grown tired of lazily pushing your vibrator in and out of your dripping pussy. Your fingers circle your clit slowly as you plead for the moon to end your misery.

You miss the sound of your door rattling off its hinges, mind overtaken by a cloud of fuzziness. Loud stomping echoes throughout your apartment and a large figure invades your room, growling when he sees the sight of you hopelessly twisting your hips to gain any sort of comfort.

A hand wraps around your throat and squeezes, forcing another gush of arousal to leak down your thighs.

“What do you think you’re doing, Omega?” His voice scarily questions, nearly spitting in your face. “How dare you touch what’s mine?”

They used to spread stories of true mates when you were in high school — stories of how when an Alpha meets the destined Omega they were born to be mated with, it would immediately send the Alpha and Omega into their corresponding ruts and heats. You always thought it was some odd wolf propaganda created centuries ago to carry on the belief that true mates still existed. However, as you look at Jeno hovering above you, there is no doubt in your mind that he is your true mate.

The fuzzy parts of your brain start to clear. “J-Jeno?”

He grins, leaning down to lick at the shell of your ear. “That’s Alpha to you. Present yourself.”

You scramble to follow his order, shoving your head into the pillow and arching your ass up in the air. He clicks his tongue mockingly.

“A pretty, submissive Omega. You know, I always wondered what cute little thing I was destined to end up with. I never thought the moon would grant me a beautiful mate like you,” he hums, digits collecting the remnants of your orgasm across your thighs. He groans as he licks the taste of you off his fingers. “You want your Alpha’s knot, baby?”

You nearly unravel at the thought of him filling you deep with his cum, giving you so much of it that it spills out of your tiny pussy.

“A-Alpha,” you whine. “Please Alpha, please knot me.”

You hear the clink of his belt buckle and your body thrums in excitement. He plants his knees down on the mattress, shrugging off his slacks and throwing his stuffy blazer to the side. He ducks his head to lick a stripe up your folds.

You shudder, bunching the sheets in your fists and practically sobbing at the need to have his cock inside of you. You’ve never felt this hopeless during your heat before, never craved another Alpha’s cock like this.

Jeno’s hands tighten around your hips as he laps at your cunt, groaning at the sweetness of your taste. It only takes a few seconds for you to gush into his waiting mouth, the sounds of him eagerly swallowing your release filling the room.

Your body slumps on the mattress at the weight of your orgasm. You barely have time to recover when you feel his tip prodding your entrance.

He growls. “Beg for my cock, Omega whore.”

“Please, Alpha, please fuck me. I want your knot to fill my pretty pussy, want you to mark me and make me yours-“

The thought of you being mated to him is what sends Jeno feral. He pushes his cock inside your waiting hole, slick dripping down your thighs and giving him easy access to slide in. You sigh in relief when he’s finally deep inside you, quelling the fire in your stomach that was pleading for him.

He doesn’t waste time — ramming into you at an inhuman speed, hands angrily digging into your sides and slapping your ass until his palm is imprinted on your backside. Your head lolls to the side, officially giving Jeno complete control to use you as you wish.

Just like with your other heats, your body throws you into climax after climax until the pleasure molds itself into your skin. Jeno is still spitting the most filthy, degrading words at you as his knot slowly approaches.

“Look at you, silly Omega. Offering yourself up to the first Alpha you see. Would you have given this cunt to someone else, hm? Let them take what’s rightfully mine?” At the shake of your head, he smirks. “That’s right. Pretty Omega’s pussy is made only for me. Designed for my knot, designed to breed for my future pups.”

The thought of him impregnating you with the future of the respected Lee line prompts you over the edge again. Jeno hisses and grabs the back of your neck, hoisting you up easily to his chest as you hear the sound of his balls slapping against your cunt forcefully.

“Gonna keep cumming around your Alpha’s cock? Never had a heat like this one before, have you, baby? That’s because the moon has finally brought you to your true mate, and you never have to spend another heat without me again.”

You cry in pleasure at the thought of being able to spend every heat with Jeno. You never minded Jaemin being your heat partner, but this satisfaction and connection is something you’ve never felt with anyone else. You genuinely think you’ll die if you go through another heat without Jeno beside you.

“A-Alpha,” you whimper, steadily holding onto his arm that’s securely wrapped around your middle. “Please knot me, Alpha. You’re the only one who can.”

“Yeah?” He groans at how desperate you sound for him. “Want your Alpha’s big knot? Want to be bred like a good little Omega?”

You nearly sob. “Y-Yes! Yes, please!”

He tilts your head and exposes your neck. His fingers carefully run over your mating gland, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“And this? Is this for me to mark, Omega?”

You frantically nod. “Yes, Alpha. Only for you.”

You know it’s a big step, a permanent marking that would tie Jeno’s Alpha to your Omega forever. Your mind screams at you to reconsider this decision when you have a clearer head, but your heart tells you that there’s nothing to mull over — Jeno is your Alpha and you need the whole world to know.

As his knot begins to swell inside you, his teeth sink into your mating gland, uniting your souls into one. Every feeling Jeno’s ever had courses through your veins, multiplying your pleasure tenfold. Your thighs begin to shake at the amount of gratification flowing through your body.

You almost pass out from the overwhelming sensation, and your body goes slack in Jeno’s hold. His cum shoots deep into your womb, filling you and marking you as his until his release is leaking down your thighs.

You both collapse on the mattress, with Jeno pulling you close to ensure his knot stays rooted deep inside you.

Your head starts to free from your subspace temporarily, and you carefully scan your room as he licks at the wound on your neck to clean you up.

“Did you- Did you break my door?”

Indeed, you can see your front door laying flat in the hallway, nearly shattered. Jeno hums softly.

“It was in my way.”

You think about how your apartment floor must’ve had to evacuate from the profound smell of your scent mixed with Jeno’s. You would feel guilty about it but considering Jeno has no shame over it, his emotions overpower yours.

“Want to fuck you again, Omega,” he hisses against your skin. “Love being mated to you.”

His honest confession forces another wave of arousal to spill from your pussy, leaking around his knot.

“Yeah, Alpha?”

He grunts and starts thrusting into you again, only being able to move a few inches as his knot is still plugging his cum into you. You gasp and pull him down to kiss you.

“My friend-“ you murmur in between moans. “My friend told me you hate Betas and Omegas.”

“Of course I do,” he hisses, propping your leg over his hip so he can push in deeper. “I hate every Beta and Omega who thinks they have a shot at being my mate.”

“You looked so grumpy when I first saw you.”

“I am grumpy,” he mumbles, hands darting to knead your breasts. “Grumpy for everyone except you.”

He grins when you squirt around his knot, your cunt sensitive from the constant rounds of fucking. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at your unexpected orgasm, body twitching in your Alpha’s hold.

Jeno fucks you until the sun rises to indicate the start of a new day. You two barely sleep, exploring various positions throughout your apartment and even the hallway of your complex, ushering more and more residents on the lower floors to evacuate from your scents. Their dirty looks are quickly changed when they see the notorious Lee brother claiming his new mate for all to see.

His cock doesn’t allow your pussy to rest until he’s sure you’ve been impregnated.

When you finally come to, you’re sprawled on your living room floor with a mix of your slick and Jeno’s cum surrounding you. He continues to lick at your skin as if he’ll die without fully receiving his taste of you.

It’s odd since despite only knowing him for less than a day, you feel like you’ve known him your whole life.

“I want-“ you pant, trying to regain your breath. “I want to fuck you forever.”

He chuckles. “Is that so, Omega?” He raises his head to see you, a predatory gaze lingering in his eyes. You wonder if you have it in you to go another few rounds.

“Lucky for you, we’re mated for life. I’m not going anywhere.”

[anantaru]

i haven’t stopped thinking abt wrio like,,, bodyguard wrio,,, underground fighter wrio,,, hate sex wrio,,, god help me

cw. bodyguard wriothesley, overprotective, possessive & dom, fem! reader

bodyguard wriothesley who likes to leave you staggering on the edge of a spinning insanity when he intentionally addresses you as "sweetheart", "princess" or "my lady" whenever he follows your orders, and it really doesn't matter to him where the both of you would currently be— if, lets assume, a quick shopping spree around fontaine or something more to his own liking, such as having you pushed down on a bed by your hips, parting your legs with his knee as large hands easily slide and secure around your waist.

bodyguard wriothesley who makes your mouth fall open on a hard, broken gasp when he swiftly traps you in place right under his strong frame, spurring you into immediate action by a dirty comment such as, "you're so sensitive, my lady." was in fact, a deep sort of satisfaction that gets you to ease up and forget yourself for a second, or the obvious fact that you're currently fucking your own personal bodyguard and that it might not be the best out of all your ideas, yet it still feels so fucking fine when he does it.

and archons, does he know what to do to keep you spiraling into euphoric bliss.

bodyguard wriothesley who adores whenever you tumble over your little, pathetic mewls when he pushes his fat tip inside of you for the very first time this night, and he notices how you're tightening up a bit when he adds another inch and spits on your cunt to have you all wet and nice, deep drags penetrating your most delicious spots while you're still loose enough that wriothesley can rub over your pulsating walls splendidly, tasting the soft clench of a warm, sore pussy on his throbbing girth.

bodyguard wriothesley who hooks up a smile at you, pearly whites grabbing your attention, admiring just how unbelievably cute you were— his boss, his princess and he could spend his entire day fucking you just the way you wanted it, with his dripping dick shafting through your pussy, manhandling you while plunging his lips against your tits to attach his hungry mouth to your nipples.

and how good you were, ah what a sight, able to swallow his cock, despite its size, working your sopping insides into the vast shape of his length so you're all marked up for him, because do keep in mind for a second— he was the one protecting you, and he would lie to himself if he'd say he couldn't become a little too possessive every now and then, while watching out that no one would bother you, no guy talk to you and wriothesley loved taking care of your needs, in many more ways than an outside person would assume— whilst all the others who even dared to look your precious, enticing way?

they aren't even half as tall as him, half as strong as him or most importantly, half as good in bed as him— the man was confident that no other was able to make you scream and enjoy yourself just the way he did.

and you were aware of that, sometimes cursing yourself as to why you let it go on for so long and be that unprofessional— but then he's here to quickly make you regret nothing at all— with your mind hanging in the clouds, still blank and the loud blows of gluttonous moans and your sexes bumping against each other, that you'd never ever feel more protected by any other individual, only him, your hands swiftly finding flaming solace in his soft locks when you hide yourself in his warm neck, pressing frenzied smooches around his defined shoulder as wriothesley groans out deep, "fuck— princess!", sensing how you're about to lose yourself to a high.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[inmaki]

as an apology for my constant disappearing here is a preview for my virgin nanami fic, hopefully done by the end of this month <3

hurt (comfort in full fic), making out, nanami being dumb

nanami kento was an orderly man.

not a single strand of his golden hair ever strayed from its place. his tie was never too far to the right or the left — only smack dab in the middle against his built chest.

his crisp, navy shirt didn't dare have a wrinkle on it, much like his allen edmond shoes that were free from any creases despite being worn every day for years.

it made you want to ruin him. ruin such perfection in all his towering glory.

and you did - at least, at much as nanami would let you.

intense makeout sessions happened every so often: during impromptu movie nights on the couch, in the morning under the warmth of your shared blankets, and especially after extra-hard days at work.

yet it never went further, no matter how hard you tried to initiate anything — whether it be a hand sliding down too low, or a soft moan into his mouth, nanami would be fumbling up an excuse to leave immediately. just like now.

"mmph.. 'missed you," you mumble against his swollen lips, sucking the bottom one greedily. the man had only just walked into the kitchen when you'd practically pounced on him in hunger.

despite his surprise, kento gives you the privilege of running your nails through his once-perfectly-slicked-back hair, grunting as you yank him even closer with his tie, loosening it in the process.

"missed you too, honey." even the simplicity of his giant hands caressing your waist sends a rush of arousal through your body, humming as you rub a hand down the solid ridges of his abs. he tasted like the coffee he'd probably been sipping languidly throughout the day, mixed in with the natural flavor of him.

memories of the sorcerer slipping in and out of the shower shirtless — toned torso on display and all — were some of the hardest in your book. occasionally, you would joke to him about dropping your panties then and there. you never actually dropped them (that could easily change if he so asked), but you were pretty much hanging on to them for dear life every afternoon.

and in response to your compliment, nanami would only chuckle nervously before shutting the door behind him to change in the closet. an ugly feeling would blossom in your chest every time at his lack of enthusiam or reciprocation to your desire, though you never let the thought spiral.

a few minutes later, your lips remained glued to his, passionately making out against the counter while continuing your adventure around his body, never straying below his belt.

nanami felt dizzy as he finally pushed away to take a breath. usually he was quite good at keeping up with your ineffable needs — he placed the blame on his depletion from work.

a groan involuntarily escapes him as you lower your lips to suck beneath his jawline, bound to leave a mark. "my love, what's got you so worked up?" he inquires with closed eyes, tilting his head up to give you further access.

you hum in approval of the action, sucking even harder. "told you, i missed you."

before you could stop to think, your hand that was once on his abs instinctively moved lower to rest just above his bulge, and then everything stopped.

with a shaky clear of his throat, nanami pushes off the counter, forcing you to back away while his hands drop to his beige dress pants.

your brows furrow. "what-"

"i'm gonna take a shower." his eyes avert, adam’s apple bobbing smoothly.

not another word follows as your boyfriend paces to the apartment's shared bedroom, leaving you to drown in your cynical thoughts.

if u wanna be tagged comment/send an ask! srry this is short but the full fic is much longer!!! i am like 3/4 done! i js procrastinate writing the smut (also the reason part 2 of my gojo fic is taking forever) T-T

read virgin gojo while u wait <3

[seungfl0wer]

I need some angst pleeez I love ur writing and would love to see more angst pleez break my heart

So I wanna request something like them calling you clingy or just bothersum? Take ur time tysvm <33

~Sunny ☀️

*Felix Calling You Clingy*

Hello there dear, so I started this and realized I’m probably just gonna have to make this into a small series. So you’ll be getting them all just spread out I hope that’s ok! Also thank you so much for the kind words i greatly appreciate it so much. I hope you like this. I started with Felix first for some reason his just kinda came out so here the first out of 8🩵

Includes: Texts messages, mentions of depression, arguing (of course has a happy ending they all may not though)

Small edit to put one of the messages is a small messed up I forgot to delete a line and I really don’t wanna go back through all of it and redo it😅 I’m sorry

Others here:

Bangchan , Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin

-🩵

Lix seemed to be avoiding you lately. You knew he was always pretty busy due to him being an idol however even when he had time off he just never wanted to spend time anymore. It’s been a good 3 weeks with no seeing him. With how he’s been acting and how life’s just been in general it made you depressed. You just kinda felt like you were doing everything wrong and weren’t good enough for him anymore.

It was 4AM, You were tossing and turning just feeling all the weight of everything on you. Your mind was just thinking of everything and anything. You wanted so badly just to message Lix, you really needed him right now. You kept going back and forth on whether you should or not, not wanting to bother him so late with your cry babiness. Before you knew it though you were already typing to him. You knew he was awake by the little green mark that showed he was playing a game you both use to play together. So he was up and online.

You couldn’t respond anymore. Your heart was breaking, you started bawling. All you could do is reply with a “k” which he hated. Which you also hated and only used when you were upset. You grabbed your pillows and all the blankets you could find and made a nest on your bed. Curling up into a ball. The blankets soft against your skin as you buried your face into them. They were the only comfort you could feel right now. You eventually ended up crying yourself to sleep.

How could the man you love say such things to you? How could he just spit so much hateful venom at you. Why not just dump you, just get it over with if he was so unhappy.

The next morning you had woken up to more texts:

Your chest tightened you reread the messages about a million times. Your mind started to spiral a bit. You wanted to cry wanted to yell wanted to beg him but you didn’t. With all the emotions and all the stress lately you went almost numb. The next couple days went by and you started to try and do things to help yourself. You went out with some friends, kept yourself busy with you hobbies and even met some new people online to play games with. One of the best things you decided though was you erased all of Felix’s messages. You couldn’t sit and reread all the stuff that was said. You couldn’t keep making yourself feel the hurt.

You knew lix well, you guys have been dating for almost 2 years now. Did he go about everything in a horrible way? Of fucking course. Are you just gonna forgive him for what he said easily? No, fuck no. However, you knew lix well enough to know what he said is probably eating him alive. Because he does love you and you know that. But he’s a human and sometimes we are just prone to being really fucking stupid sometimes.

After about a week and a half of radio silence on both ends. He messaged you.

After that you two texted a little here and there. He even FaceTimed you a few times just to show you the scenery. When he eventually came home you two sat down at your house to talk.

Felix kept apologizing, both of you were crying by the end of the conversation. Felix told you it wasn’t about you being “clingy” per-say he said he loved being around you but he wanted to make a day when he was off to just do something by himself. Even if it was just a few hours. He said how he felt like he just never gets alone time. How it’s either go go go with schedule, doing stuff with the members, coming to your place. He feels so stretched thin and that’s why he blew up.

He know he did wrong by doing so but you get it. Man could be taking a shit and someone would be trying to talk to him about his job and something. He doesn’t ever get time for himself. You both agreed that you’ll give him space. And the days he’s doing his own thing you won’t text him until he texts you.

He also wanted to assure you he doesn’t think you’re clingy, he loves how you are and wouldn’t change you for anything. He said what he said out of sleepless rage. But he knows he fucked up.

You both needed that night in a pillow fort he built for you, eating snacks, talking about other things and just cuddled up together. You missed him. You missed him so fucking much. Missed the sweet smell of his cologne, his beautiful bright smile decorated with little Hershey kiss freckles, and the most warm comforting laugh in the world. You laid in his arms through the night, it filled with such deep conversations, crying, laughing and more crying but out of happiness this time. You thought to yourself “we are gonna be ok, everyone has arguments but our bond is strong.”

💙 if you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♰ ⱠɆ₲łØ₦ ♰

♰ Pairings: demon!matz x chubby!fem!reader, demon!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader, a sprinkle of demon!san x chubby!fem!reader, (eventual priest yeosang/jongho/yungi x chubby!fem!reader in the future)

♰ Genre: demon au/horror/smut

♰ Summary: Congratulations, darling! It's your destiny to be impregnated by four demons in an ancient Satanic sex ritual that'll lead to the birth of the Antichrist and bring about the end times. Now hop down into this demons' layer and let's get this thing going. Armageddon awaits.

♰ Word Count: 3.1kish

♰ Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, no pulling out, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, lots of breath play, ritualistic sex, scratching, a lil blood, oral sex (f receiving), sensory play, a lil nibbling, huge huge demon dicks so there's mucho vaginal stretching, the dicks can shapeshift (yes, shapeshift), demons give some dom vibes, reader's for sure subby, a lil possessiveness, demonic powers, religious themes, bondage, a lil choking, telepathy, your body's controlled via powers at some point, pet names (pet, little one, darling, good girl), and that should be it.

♰ A/N: Hold on, hear me out, I can explain. No, I can't. I'm a heathen. I like spooky shit and fucking demons so, ya know, here we are. This is the first part in a series I'm writing and it'll probably only get more unhinged from here honestly so, yeah, hop in babes. It's apocalypse time.

“And he asked him, ‘What is thy name?’And he answered saying, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many’” - Matthew 5:9

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ Laberinto del Demonio ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

Tucked away on the tree shrouded grounds of an aging Spanish manor, a labyrinth spirals deep into the earth. Beneath the lush grass and packed dirt, surrounded by the twisted roots of trees that feast upon the decaying corpses of those who attempt to intrude, this labyrinth is home to fearsome creatures who’ve peacefully slumbered here for hundreds of years. But tonight they awaken. For you. 

“Such a beautiful girl. Just let me…” Wooyoung compliments, fussing with a few flyaway strands of your hair. In the year that’s passed since Wooyoung came into your life all he’s done is fuss over you. You’ve never known a more attentive lover. Never met a man so intent on catering to your every whim.

Wooyoung likes to say that it’s the Fates that brought the two of you together but that’s more than a grave exaggeration on his part, it’s an outright lie. If he’d waited on the Fates it’d have been another 200 years before he stumbled upon a female descendant of your bloodline. Finding you by any means necessary, however brutal, was paramount to fulfill his mission and to soothe the heart that ached for what he lost when his love was stripped from him all those centuries ago.

Your resemblance to her is uncanny but everything else about you is incredibly unique. It stimulates him in endless ways, everyday with you marked by some new, exciting experience. He adores you beyond measure and the others, soaking you in through their collective consciousness, have grown incredibly fond of you too. 

“There. Perfect, as always” he smiles, taking a step back to admire your silk adorned figure glowing under the light of the moon.

Atop the labyrinth, you admire the torch lit staircase that spirals beneath you. It emits a certain energy that hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air, drawing you towards it. You know what awaits you tonight. Wooyoung went over it with you a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone. It’s something you long for, something that has your body flush with heat at the mere thought of. Yet you can’t seem to shake the nerves that have your fingers trembling as the handsomely dressed dark haired man takes your hand.

Wooyoung strokes your cheek and you soften at his touch, “Are you nervous, my pet?” 

“Not nervous. It’s just…” you sigh, nibbling at your inner lip, “What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I can’t handle it?” 

Wooyoung lets out a laugh you’ve come to liken to a jackal. Loud, mischievous, and undeniably his. “Can’t handle it? It’s that all you’re worried about?” 

He steps in closer to you, stealing a quick, passionate kiss from your crimson stained lips. “You were made for this. In every lifetime you have been and in every lifetime you’ll always be. Now come, the others are waiting.” You soak in Wooyoung’s words, forever a sponge ready to absorb his praise, and gift him the faint smile he needs to lead you forward.

Less forward, more down. 

Down past walls built of jagged stone, thick vines weaving between the cracks sprouting tiny emerald flowers you’ve never seen before. Down past ancient symbols carved in meticulously measured increments. It seems to be instructions of some sort. For what you aren’t sure but a tugging in the pit of your stomach tells you that you’ll soon find out. 

At last reaching the bottom of the labyrinth you find yourself in a cavernous room dimly illuminated by a hundred or so candles. At the center you spot a large pool of slithering black silk not unlike that which hugs your body. Wooyoung leads you to the center and, as he does, you feel the material begin to writhe against your skin. It snakes its way around your curves, exposing your plush figure to the warmth of the pit as you sense you’ve become one with it.

A chorus of voices begin whispering in your ear, invisible hands grasping at your most intimate areas. Wooyoung captures your lips in another kiss, already groaning at thoughts of what he has planned for you. His hands wander below your waist, fingernails growing sharper as they sink into the softness of your ass. You throw your arms around him, deepening the kiss, but he indulges you only for a brief moment before he begins to back away.

“Soon, my love” he says without speaking a word, “See you on the other side.” 

“Woo, wait!” you call out to him but a strong wind whips through the room, extinguishing the flames of the outer candles and swallowing him into darkness. The force of the wind knocks you off your feet but you land with no impact at all, the pit catching you in its embrace, thin strips of silk winding around your thighs. The air around you floods with laughter layered upon laughter, Woo’s melded somewhere in between. 

“Aah, finally I see her through my own eyes” a voice breathes out, tickling your spine. 

“Such a precious little human. So cute” another much deeper voice hums, the vibration ringing through your chest. 

“And she looks so, so…” a third voice chimes in, light as a feather, “Soft!” 

In the blink of an eye the silk wrapped around your thigh transforms into a hand, pitch black with razor sharp claws dripping a thick scarlet liquid down your leg. You let out a scream of absolute terror and it transforms back into the harmless material. It’s as if it were all in your head and the hand was never there to begin with.

“Seonghwa, you’re scaring her!” Wooyoung shouts and invisible arms envelope you, comforting you as your fear subsides. 

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away” Seonghwa apologizes, emerging from the pit in his human form.

He swims through the pit as if it were a pool, only his torso visible as he comes between your legs, his much gentler hands smoothing their way up your thigh. You don’t recognize the face of this beautifully androgynous creature but you’re positive you’ve felt his energy around you before.

“Is this better for you?” he asks, breath hitching at the sight of the slick, sweet arousal dripping from your core. 

“Seonghwa?” you moan his name for the first time as his tongue extends to flick your bud. “Woo’s told me so much about you.”

A shimmer of gold ripples across the dark pools that sit where his eyes should be, lips curling into a grin that’s both alluring and sinister. “Aah and what did he tell you about me? Good things?” he asks, his tongue whipping down to prod your tight hole. Seonghwa delights in the string of moans you release as he teases you, pushing his moist tongue into you little by little. Your walls eager to grant him entrance, stretching to accommodate the increasing thickness and length of his tongue. 

“Good? Y-yes, good” you breathe out, shocked at the depths his tongue manages to reach. There are no limitations, no bottoming out. He slips his way into every part of you. Tickling the back of your stomach, lapping at your walls in every direction at once. You can taste yourself on the back of your tongue, a sudden fullness in your throat suppressing your desperate moans. Your body’s no longer yours. It does only what he wishes it to. Moves only as he commands. 

“You’re being greedy. Share her. Now” something inhuman growls, breaking through the fog in your mind.

It’s not something you were meant to hear, the shedding of those performative voices existing solely for your comfort, but you’re far from afraid. On the contrary, such brutality laced with so much need has you clenching tighter, juices gushing out of you as Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts harshly into your core.

Seonghwa grunts defiantly, lifting you a few inches above the pit without laying a finger on you. Your arms dangle at your sides, fingertips grasping at nothing as your body arches against air. Droplets of your arousal run down your thigh, landing on the silk below and the creatures around you release a collective sigh of satisfaction. They can taste you, the ghost of your flavor lingering on their tongues. 

“You are like the other women in your bloodline…” the inhuman voice whispers, becoming more human the closer it gets, “Delicious.”

Two hands reach from outside of your field of vision to caress your plump breasts, firmly pinching your sensitive nipples. Your head falls to the side and you're met with another new face. This one more boyish in his handsomeness but more authoritative in his presence. Wooyoung told you that you’d know his leader when you met him. That you’d feel this immense need to gain his approval, to be as obedient to him as you can be.

“This is Hongjoong” you think and the leader smiles in response.

“Delicious and smart, mmm” he hums, leaning into your neck and breathing your scent deep into his lungs. “Let her speak.” 

The fullness vacates your throat at once, leaving you gasping for air, all those suppressed moans echoing off the labyrinth’s walls. Seonghwa’s tongue flutters softly inside of you now, his pace slowing just enough for you to speak. 

“You know what you’re here for, don’t you little one? Our Wooyoung’s explained it to you well?” Hongjoong asks, kissing you on the neck, his canines nicking at your smooth, fragrant flesh.

You let out a whine, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “Yes…he…everything…told me.”

Hongjoong laughs at your incoherence, finding it quite adorable, “And this is what you want? To let us have our way with you?” He releases one of your breasts, twisting the bud one last time before his hand's gliding down your body to grab handfuls of your belly. “To let us fill you with our seed and let it grow so that we’ll be, all of us, a family?” 

You’re fixated on him, a constellation of tears twinkling on your lashes, “I want it. I want this.” 

“Aah, then we shouldn’t waste any more time” Hongjoong sighs, gesturing to Seonghwa, “Let’s take her together, shall we?” 

Seonghwa’s tongue retreats slowly from your core in an S motion that makes the tip lash sharply at your walls on its way out. The space between you and the pit below begins to close, all current information misleading you to believe the arms you fall into will belong to Hongjoong.

“Relax your body and watch the skies” Seonghwa instructs as you fall against his chest and the vines between the stone walls climb their way up the ceiling. They radiate a vibrant amethyst, the sprouting emerald flowers emitting a sparkling dust that mists through the air. A trail of it drifts down the wall, drawing your attention to the shadows cast upon it by the light of the candles.

That’s when you see it. The silhouette of the creature crawling its way up your body. You’ve yet to feel him but he’s there, advancing up your figure, twisted horns brushing your cheek as it’s face meets yours. Hongjoong takes you carefully by the throat, tilting your head to face him in his human form, “The skies not the shadows, pet. Never our shadows.” It isn’t a threat and it need not be. Your obedience is promised, sealed with a kiss richer than any wine.

Hongjoong’s mouth sips hungrily from yours as he spreads your legs, the swollen head of his cock leaking arousal as it stretches your already soaked core. “Mmphmm” you whine between his lips, your lids squeezing shut the further he pushes into you. He grants pleasure to your walls unlike any the earthly realm could bring. He seems to transform inside of you, shifting into whatever he must to perfectly fill every ridge of your delicate pussy.

Your body wants to clench around him, to feel him as completely as it can but, no matter how hard you try, an invisible barrier prevents it. Anatomy 101 dictates that, with the size of what you’ve taken, there should be not a centimeter of free space. By all means you should be screaming in agony, not pouring out such blissful moans. But, as Woo said, you were made for this and so there’s room still when Seonghwa’s palms come to rest behind your knees, hips rising to lift his pulsing length into your warmth.

Your eyes fall open and Hongjoong breaks from the kiss, freeing you to gurgle and moan as you at last watch the skies. There’s no need for clenching now, no possible way for you to do so. Buried deep within you, they exist both as one and as two. As one when they thrust into you, their demonic growls contrasting the lightness of your moans. As two when they split at the head, charting their own courses to punish your tender nerve endings. 

Seonghwa nuzzles against your neck, licking beads of sweat from your shoulder before it extends down to trace your collarbone. Hongjoong cups one of your breasts, fingertips digging into its plushness as he purses his lips around your nipple, suckling at the bud. Seonghwa’s tongue envelopes your other breast, the tip of his tongue circling your nipple.

Your body’s overcome with an unnatural heat that ravages you like a wildfire. Your mind’s whirling as you think of everything and nothing at once. Your teary eyes remain glued to the skies—always the skies, never their shadows—and your senses begin to shift. No longer are you smelling the honeyed scent of the flowers, you’re tasting it. And what you smell are colors, amethyst and emerald now aromatic as if they were herbs. 

“You are such a beauty to behold” Hongjoong’s voice praises, breaking through the fractured barriers of your mind. 

Seonghwa’s voice coasts in after his. “We haven’t felt this alive in centuries” it says, tickling your consciousness as does the breath at the back of your neck. “Maybe we could keep her like this. Whining and quivering between us. Forever our plaything. Would you like that, darling?” 

Hongjoong dips a hand between your legs, gathering your slick and dragging his drenched fingers across your lips. His laughter rings out in your head, “I think she likes the idea of it. Maybe…”

“Aaah!” you let out a scream that cracks to pieces in your throat. You’re hit with a rush that makes you feel absolutely feral, your nails thrashing at Hongjoong’s back as it overtakes you. 

“Good girl” he coos, unphased by the blood trickling from his wounds, “Come your pretty little brains out for us.” 

Seonghwa allows your legs to drop, strips of silk reaching up to coil around your ankles. His arms come around your waist, keeping you in place to fuck into you harder and faster. Thrusting. Pulsing. Claiming you. Flooding you with their seed until it’s spilling from your core and you’re coming all over their cocks, soaking them in your juices. Never in your life have you felt this perfect. This complete.

It’s impossible to differentiate between the labored breathing shared between the three of you. Even as you drift down from your high your breaths all sound as if they’ve left the same body. You arrived at this place a human but maybe now not as much. A part of you has been given away and, if it means feeling this way forever, you don’t want it back. 

Seonghwa softly brushes your hair away from your cheek, showering it in kisses, “You’ll rest with us now.” 

“Don’t be afraid” Hongjoong says, kissing his way down your tummy, “It can get a bit dark down here.”

“Down where?” you ask weakly before you’re snatched beneath the surface of the pit. Instinctively you begin flailing your limbs in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drowning but your panic’s soothed by the two sets of arms cuddling up to you.

Surrounded by their warmth, you let the darkness swallow you and drift off to sleep. 

♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ 2. Despertar ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰

“Woo!” you scream, shooting upright, your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t fathom how long you’ve been asleep, the finer details of the previous events lost in the haze of sleep. You look around for Woo, for any of them, but you’re met only with the light, sparkling mist that hung from the ceiling above the pit.

Stretching your aching legs you feel something slink across them. “Wh…what is this?” you gasp, watching the fluorescent vines curiously explore your figure. Flower buds bloom as the vines reach between your legs, curving to ride your thighs up and around your torso. 

“Pretty aren’t they?” Woo asks, appearing behind you without a sound. 

“Woo, you scared me!” you pout, tempted to elbow him in the shin for frightening you so terribly. 

Woo crouches down to loop his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so easily frightened all things considered” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. A graceful wave of his hand and he’s plucked a flower from the vine, twirling it before your eyes. You marvel at its beauty, the emerald glow creating a halo around your irises.

“Where do these come from?” you ask, brimming with wonder.

There’s a rustling in a nearby corner, the silhouette of a broad shouldered man emerging from the darkness. He smiles at you as he steps into the light of the mist, striking you with his features. Woo tucks the flower behind your ear, pointing to the approaching man. “They come from the mountain.” 

The man kneels before you, his dimpled cheeks inches from your face, and the vines tighten around you at his will. “But you can call me San” he says, obviously as smitten with you as you are with him. “Are you ready for us, love?”

You swallow hard and take your last full breath of air before the vine’s snug around your neck. “Yes, mmm, ready” you moan softly, surrendering to the strength of the vines. 

San takes you by the chin, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Hmm, breaking you will be fun. Just try not to look down too much. Might get lightheaded.” 

“Down?” you ask, glancing around at the bed of vines. You put all of your focus into watching them, searching for something you might’ve missed. But they’re as they were before, humming and glowing, doing their master’s bidding.

San guides your head in the opposite direction, revealing the pit of writhing black silk and the room illuminated with candles. 

“Oh, darling, haven’t you figured it out yet? You aren't down there anymore” Wooyoung laughs, tossing a flower into the air and watching it drift down into the pit, “You’re up here.” 

[aemondsi]

anything for you. theodore nott.

in a universe where voldemort won, you and theo risk everything.

reposted from my old account.

warnings: graphic death

pairing: theodore nott x ron weasley's twin sister!reader

“You can’t possibly love him, y/n. He’s a bloody Death Eater!” your brother had jeered at you. Hot tears ran down your face but you refused to wipe them. You wanted everyone in the room to see how deeply this was hurting you.

“I have never been more sure of something in my life. While you were gone – while everyone was gone – he was the only constant. He isn’t who you think he is.” The room broke out into a chorus of repulsed sounds. The Order of the Phoenix wasn’t much these days, the predominant members being the Weasley family. Harry Potter’s death loomed over everyone. Numerous other deaths piled on: those who died at the beginning of the war, but those who have died recently like your older brothers, Percy and George, and your father, Arthur.

“He thinks we’re scum! He would kill Hermione on the spot. How can you stand there and say this shit?” another brother had chimed in. Voices were starting to overlap the more trapped you felt.

“You’ve never given him or myself the chance to prove that’s not true! If you remember, Theo was the one who told me about everything Draco was doing back in school. He has already given us so much information. He’s climbing the ranks, but he is doing it for us!” you fell to your knees, exhaustion and frustration getting the best of you. “Can’t you see that even if he’s not doing it for all of you, he’s putting his life on the line trying to help secure a world that I feel safe in? You know how my beliefs align!”

“Has he stopped killing innocent people? Does he still partake in Voldemort’s plans that don’t necessarily target us? If he’s climbing the ranks, I can’t begin to imagine what he’s doing to do so,” your mother inquired, shooting daggers at you. You couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“He’s doing what he can to survive, too. If he dies, we will lose so much.” Without missing a beat, you added, “If he dies, I am as good as dead.”

This conversation, over a year old, still rings in your head every time you meet Theo. Your current setup in an old warehouse allowed these thoughts to amplify. The only sounds keeping you from spiraling were the rhythmic tapping of Ron’s foot and Bill’s pacing. You never got to see Theo alone, but that wasn’t a horrible thing.

Though you wanted nothing more than to have one evening alone with him, as selfish as that sounds given the climate of the world right now, the positive came in the form of the people who joined you on these exchanges and started to see through the cracks in Theo’s character. This hardened soldier who bears the Dark Mark turns into someone else in your presence. He is more patient and gentle, as compared to the man that numerous members of the Order have seen slaughter people in cold-bold, just to laugh at their frozen-in-death facial expressions.

You had noticed changes in Theo throughout the last few times you’d seen him. He was much more focused on you than the information they were there to exchange. He’d almost become frantic – dark circles that got darker every time you saw him circled his eyes, and his face had become much more caved in. He was starting to look as though he were actively being tortured. He didn’t look better this time around.

You sprang up from your spot when you heard the metal door grind against the floor, opening quicker than anticipated. Ron and Bill quickly put their wands up and took aim at Theo, refusing to put them down even when you yelled, “It’s just him!” Theo didn’t respond much better, raising his wand and aiming at Bill, who you knew Theo saw as more of a threat than Ron.

“Are you being followed? What made you come in here like that?” Bill growled, eyes flickering between Theo and the entrance. Theo narrowed his eyes at the older man.

“You think I would lead them straight here if I was? If it was just you two, sure. But, I would never do that with her here. Consider yourself lucky,” Theo spit.

“That’s enough. Are you alright?” you stated, briskly walking to your lover. Up close, you noticed faint bruising around his neck, as if he’d been choked. Theo didn’t say anything and instead, kept his eyes locked on the two men standing behind you. “Theo,” you trailed off, putting one hand on his cheek. You searched his eyes for any type of response, but you couldn’t find one.

“You don’t have much time,” he said, only loud enough that Ron and Bill were barely able to hear. You took a slight step back, still close enough that you could hold his hand – the hand that he couldn’t even bring himself to grasp in return.

“What?”

“The Dark Lord knows there’s a mole in his closest circle. He knows you are not dead, despite me telling him you were,” Theo said, finally making eye contact with you. Your mouth fell open and you held his hand tighter.

Theo lost his will to fight at that exact moment, letting his hand holding his wand fall to his side. He pulled you into him and rested his forehead against yours. “He knows you’re the mole?” you whispered.

“Not yet, but I can’t imagine it taking much longer. His eyes are set on Berkshire – thinks he’s gotten scared now that his mother died. I was able to ward him off me for the time being. I told him that I wasn’t the one to kill you, I just saw you get hit with a nasty spell.”

“Come with us before it’s too late, Theo. How many times do I have to beg you? Turn your back on it all. We can keep you protected.” you pleaded, looking back at your brothers for reassurance. Bill shook his head before Ron chose to speak.

“He is not coming back with us. Do you know what kind of target that would place on us? It would be a death sentence,” he spit. “With that Dark Mark, I’m sure Voldemort could summon you back to him at any given second,” he added. You spun around to confront him but Theo was quicker – he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you into him.

“I wasn’t planning on it, Weasley,” Theo said with such spite behind his words that it made you want to cower away from him. He looked down at you, asking you a silent question. You bit your lip in thought, looking over at your brothers. 

“Could you guys give us a minute to ourselves? Just stand guard at the door.” With a few grumbles, you were able to convince them to leave. As soon as the door shut, you wrapped your arms around Theo as tight as you could, reassuring yourself that he was here with you and still alive. For how much longer he would be alive, no one was certain.

“You can leave them. Even if you don’t take refuge with us, you can escape,” you pleaded. Theo softly shook his head and pressed his lips to your forehead.

“No, y/n, I can’t. I’m bound to him until one of us dies. I…” he trailed off. You frantically started shaking your head at him and he sighed. “We knew this was going to happen.”

“You might have known. I held out hope,” you cried. Theo grabbed your chin gently, using the other hand to wipe away the stray tears. “Promise me you won’t die.”

“Y/n…”

“Promise me, Theo.” 

His response never came. Theo pulled you into him and kissed you so tenderly, that it was beyond out of character for him. You knew this was the end. He softly ran his hands down your sides, over your back, anywhere they could grasp. It felt as though he was trying to remember the exact shape of your body. He eventually tried to pull away, but in return, you softly bit his lip and pulled him back in. 

Theo couldn’t bring himself to let go of you. You were intoxicating in a way that no drug or drink could replicate. Not breaking the kiss, Theo hoisted you onto a table that was just behind you. Laying you down on it, he kept kissing you. Along your jaw, down your neck – Theo kissed you anywhere with an exposed bit of skin. You couldn’t stop yourself from crying, to which Theo then kissed away your tears. When he was finished, he pulled you up into a sitting position.

“Love, you are the only thing in this short existence of mine that I’ve ever been sure of. When I die, I can die happily because I knew you. I got to love you.” Theo whispered, his voice cracking as he professed to you. You leaned your forehead against him, looking him straight in the eye.

“Try to survive, Theo, please. For me,” you pleaded. Theo nodded briefly but was interrupted by a banging on the door. 

“Hurry up, it’s getting dark. We need to leave,” Bill’s voice called out. Bill and Ron both reappeared in the room, looking at the two of you expectantly.

“We need to leave, and you still haven’t given us what we came for,” Bill sighed. Theo tensed and pulled himself away from you, putting his facade back on as if it were a costume. Part of you wished he didn’t, just so they could see the real him.

“The Dark Lord plans to raid Hogsmeade, again. You need to make sure everyone is evacuated. He doesn’t plan on ever having to raid them again. In two days, if you don’t create a plan, everyone still living there will be dead.”

“And will you be one of the Death Eaters killing those people?” Ron inquired.

“If it means that it keeps me alive, and keeps a steady stream of information coming to you, yes. I have never been unclear with my intentions.” Theo said. He was significantly taller than Ron, forcing the redhead to look up at him as Theo walked closer to him, slowly.

“We don’t have time for this,” Bill said, getting visibly anxious. “We’re leaving,” Bill added, grabbing you and Ron both by the arm. 

Everything happened so fast after that – you reached out for Theo, but he backed away from you and you could’ve sworn you saw a tear run down his face. Just like that, you were whisked away, Bill choosing that moment to apparate. You didn’t get to say goodbye; you didn’t get to tell him you loved him for the last time.

Three days later, after their failed attempt at raiding Hogsmeade, you and your family watched in horror as Voldemort was broadcasting yet another round of executions. This wasn’t the first time this had happened – the first time being with his son, Mattheo, a boy you had known in school. You can’t recall the exact reason for his death, but it set a standard. If Voldemort would kill his child in such ways, what would he do to others?

You held your breath as the camera view panned down the small row of people awaiting their death. You felt the wind get knocked out of you when you caught sight of him.

The boy you loved was there, his eyes already dead. His appearance was, somehow, much worse than when you had last seen him. The bruising around his neck that had almost been healed was now back in full display, accompanied by bruises all over his face. He had blood dried around his mouth and nose, and his left eye was so swollen that it looked completely closed. Something told you that death was merciful compared to what he had been put through.

Voldemort rambled on about the first three men, killing them quickly. His smile never failed, especially when he turned to the last victim: Theo.

“Theodore Nott, what would your father say?” He teased. He pulled a wand out of the box that a servant of his carried at his side. Raising it, you recognized it to be Theo’s. Voldemort snapped it in half, causing a slight flinch to radiate off Theo.

“Stupidly fell in love with a dirty blood traitor, one of those Weasleys. He’s acted as an agent for them this entire time, but of course, I knew from early on. We’ve played a brilliant game of cat and mouse, haven’t we, Nott?” Voldemort, again, laughed. Every muscle in Theo’s body was tensed up and he never lifted his face to look at the crowd that had gathered or the cameras broadcasting the event.

Noticing Theo's aversion to looking at the crowd, Voldemort ran his fingers through Theo's hair before yanking it back, forcing him to look up. Theo grimaced but finally looked straight at the camera. His good eye bore through you, sending your heart straight to the bottom of your stomach.

You started sobbing, sliding off the couch and crawling towards the hologram showing the entire scene. “Please,” you gasped. Hermione sat behind you, pulling you into her, but you fought her off. 

“You were special to me,” Voldemort sighed and raised his wand. You grabbed whatever was closest to you – in this case, a plate someone had been eating off of earlier – and threw it through the hologram. The sound of your sobs and the plate exploding against the wall ricocheted around the hideout.

Another one of your older brothers, Charlie, moved Hermione aside and restrained you. Without doing so, you would’ve hurt yourself or someone else. “Get off me,” you repeatedly screamed, thrashing around on the ground.

Charlie was able to hold you in place on the ground, holding you facedown on the carpet with your arms pinned behind your back. To your horror, you turned your head to the side just in time to see a green light encase Theo in its grip. 

The cry you let out was movie-worthy. Using all of your strength, you burst out of Charlie’s grip and jumped up, turning on your surviving family members. “He died for us. He died for us and our cause. You never gave him a chance and never wanted to offer help in return,” you sobbed. Hermione came back to your side and held you in her arms. 

You didn’t fight back this time. You sat in her arms and sobbed. You couldn’t stop sobbing as you looked back at the hologram and it was panned to Theo’s dead body. It zoomed in on his face as if to hurt you even more. You watched as Voldemort whispered a simple charm, and flames consumed Theo’s body.

“I hope the Weasleys watching this enjoyed the show. While you watched this we have surrounded your hideout. Even Nott’s Occlumency he worked so hard on for you couldn’t keep me out. Perhaps it’s good that you never trusted him with your exact location, or else this would’ve happened long ago.” Voldemort smiled, and the hologram shut off. There was no noise in the room other than your silent sobs. 

Then, the first window exploded.

[ggomos-maribat]

Double Lives

Damian was certain that his wife was keeping a secret from him.

He trusted her with his life, of course—Marinette had kept a number of things from him in the earlier stages of their relationship, like her experience and trauma in Paris. He knew not to pry, and eventually she opened up. He was glad that some burden was taken off her shoulders.

But this was different. She was deliberately trying not to get caught; she took care to hide her phone from his view, and there were days she'd come home very late. When asked, she'd get irritable but also nervous around him. Damian didn't want to assume things right off the bat, but he did hope she would finally grow comfortable to talk it out with him. And so he resisted using his ‘resources’ to peek into her life—what kind of distrusting partner would he be if he did that?

He knew, too, that he was being awfully hypocritical. He was still yet to sit her down and reveal his vigilante alter ego to her as well as his family's. Damian would swear he planned to rip the bandaid off when they got engaged. But he couldn't bring himself to do it, out of the fear that she'd leave him. As far as he knew, Marinette wanted a normal quiet life after living through the Evil Butterfly Man's reign of terror. Telling her his identity would just put a target on her back, if there wasn't any already after she became a Wayne.

He couldn't imagine his sweet innocent wife exposed to the horrors of vigilantism.

Still, even though he had his own secrets, it felt quite frustrating not to know hers. That was what Damian was thinking one dark night when the door finally opened, signalling her arrival from work.

“Damian?��� Her eyes widened. “Why are you still up? You shouldn't have waited for me.”

“It's alright. I couldn't sleep anyways.” And I will be sneaking out for patrol later. He stood up to kiss her cheek—

But froze upon seeing a red mark right at the base of her neck.

Marinette hummed tiredly. “Next time, don't wait for me if you're tired, okay?”

“. . . What's that on your neck?” He dared to ask.

Her hand immediately flew to the spot on her skin. For a split second, her expression changed into a hint of annoyance. “It's—it's . . .” she stammered, “I accidentally hit myself.”

“You hit yourself?”

She nodded meekly.

Damian stared at her for a moment. There was one thing he knew about his wife: she was a bad liar. But she was expert at omitting things, partly because she probably knew he wouldn't interrogate her further. He knew that she was aware it was the vaguest of explanations but she never tried to elaborate.

He mustered out a smile. “Be careful next time.”

She let out a nervous laugh and squeaked out a ‘yes’.

“By the way.” He took a deep breath, “I visited your office this morning.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, and your secretary told me you hadn't punched in for the day yet.”

The silence between them was thick.

“Ah . . .” Damian could practically see the gears turning in her head. “That was . . . erm, I had to run an errand before work! Yeah . . .”

“I see. I was hoping to have lunch with you earlier but it seems that you're busy nowadays.”

She cursed in French under her breath.

“I'm really sorry, Damian.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I'll make time this week. I promise.”

She hurried off to their bedroom, leaving Damian with his thoughts.

He really really didn't want to assume the worst. But his heart was racing and when he looked at the signs, they were clear as day. His mind started to spiral a little, wondering where he could've gone wrong, wondering if he didn't spend enough time on her or if she felt that he wasn't giving enough effort.

But he pushed all those thoughts away and followed her to bed.

***

One Saturday afternoon saw Robin and Superboy in the Watchtower's breakroom, talking about Damian's predicament. He hoped his friend could at least contribute an objective outsider's perspective in his dilemma and encourage him to broach the topic with Marinette.

“She's cheating,” Superboy deadpanned.

“She's—she's not,” he argued back, “Perhaps I am just reading too much into it . . .”

“Um but the hickey? The late night escapades?” Superboy frowned. “I don't know about you, but I don't think there's any other explanation for it.”

Robin bit his tongue. No, it's not possible. He loved Marinette terribly, and he knew—he could feel the same love from her if not more.

His friend sighed, “Look, I know it's hard to believe. Even I don't think M can be . . . unfaithful but you should confront her about it.”

“I can't. I can't face her like that when I am still keeping a secret of my own.”

“Then tell her you're Robin. A secret for a secret, hm?”

Robin didn't even want to think about how messy that conversation would be.

“It's all just about communication,” Superboy continued. “If you're worried she won't accept you, take my mom and dad as an example—”

He stopped talking, indicating that he sensed another presence nearby. Just on cue, a fuming Ladybug stomped into the breakroom, heading straight to one of the refrigerators.

The two men watched as she muttered angrily while looking around for food—Robin could see the clear exhaustion on her tensed figure. The Parisian heroine had joined the Justice League after the Hawkmoth fiasco became public; the heroes were quick to recruit her but not before she voiced out her complaints about the League neglecting her city. Though she hadn't revealed her identity to anyone, she had formed bonds with the other heroes her age, not excluding Robin and Superboy.

Superboy winced when she kicked the fridge door.

Ladybug did a hundred eighty, showing both the fires of hell and sleepless nights in her blue eyes. “You don't happen to have an extra stock of Kryptonite, do you?”

Superboy looked at her warily. “What happened this time?”

“Your dad assigned me to another magic-involved mission!” She tugged at her hair, sitting beside them. “I thought I made it clear I didn't want to be involved in too many missions especially if it's non-miraculous related ones!”

“You could . . . tell him that?”

She shot a sharp glare at them. “You don't think I did? They're insisting it's miraculous related when Constantine hasn't even confirmed anything! Just because Paris was terrorized, it doesn't mean miraculi are going to pop out from everywhere! These missions are affecting my normal life!”

It was a common complaint for heroes who had alternate civilian lives, but Robin was a bit surprised that she was that open about her feelings.

“And—and Batman too!” She pointed a finger at Robin. “I know Monsieur Furry's guilty about the Paris thing and all and me not having a mentor but he keeps checking on my progress after missions liked a damned helicopter parent! “

Before either of them could reply, she continued ranting, “I was going to meet an important client yesterday but they just had to call me in to help with the mission! And then it goes on until freaking midnight! What about my precious sleep?! Then Zatanna accidentally used a spell on me—it hit my neck and now it looks like a hickey!”

Her head dropped onto the table. “How the fuck do I fucking explain that to my husband?!”

Robin and Superboy looked at each other, wide-eyed.

“You—you haven't told your husband that you're a hero?” Superboy asked carefully.

Not lifting up her head, she replied with a muffled voice, “Of course not! I can't do that to him! He's already exposed to enough danger because of his last name! I just can't tell him ‘ hey mon amour so I'm actually that heroine from Paris on top of my emotional PTSD!’”

Robin swallowed. That was Marinette's name for him.

It ticked too many boxes.

He started to subconsciously connect the dots: catching his wife absent at work at the time the magic-wielding team of the JL was away on a mission; Ladybug sharing that she finally linked up messages from her yoyo to her personal phone; his wife coming home late, tired and fatigued from head to toe when all she was supposed to be doing was designing.

“I'm sure he'll come to understand your circumstances,” Superboy consoled.

“He won't.” The heroine sat up, revealing that her eyes were now welling up with tears. “He probably hates me right now because I'm sending the wrong signals. What if he thinks I'm just taking advantage of him for his money? His family already hates me! What if he's filing for a divorce right now?”

Robin felt the nudge from his friend, as if to tell him to do damage control. Superboy abruptly stood up, spouted out an excuse about being called by someone, and left the room to the two of them.

Ladybug sniffed, “Sorry, you probably didn't want to hear all of that.”

“It helps to get your problems off your chest.” Robin awkwardly patted her head. In truth, she was really Marinette, he wanted to pull her into a hug already.

He coughed. “Why—why do you think your husband's family hates you?”

“Oh . . . I don't know, but his father’s always distant. Whenever I'm at a family dinner, they're just very quiet,” she replied sadly. “I know they're good people but I felt like I didn't belong somehow. My husband keeps saying they adore me though.”

Robin wanted to sigh out loud. His father still had his guard up because he believed she was a civilian, hence there was a side of her family they could never show her. It was always quiet due to Alfred's stern lecture about behaving in front of Marinette lest they accidentally spill something they shouldn't.

“It sounds like your husband cares a lot about you,” he told her, “Don't you think he would trust you if you told him the truth?”

“But I can't! I don't know where to begin!” She pursed her lips. “He's always been good to me and he never steps the line even if I'm obviously lying. I just . . . I thought I could tell him before we got married but I was too scared and I didn't want to ruin what we had.”

“But he won't think any differently of you, would he?”

“No . . .”

“Then you have nothing to be afraid of.” He smiled a little. “It may come off as a shock at first but he will accept it in time. You will be stressing yourself out even more if you keep thinking about the worst scenarios.”

She stared at him. “When did you get so wise?”

“Ever since I started thinking about what my wife was doing.”

She tilted her head. “Huh?”

It was unmistakable. Those gleaming blue eyes were Marinette's.

He was such an idiot.

“She keeps coming home late, hides her phone every time I'm near,” he listed, gauging her reaction. “Last night, I found out she hadn't come to her office even when she said she was working, and I caught her with a strange mark on her neck.”

Her eyes slowly widened as she seemed to come to the same realization. The heroine's gloved hands flew up to cover her mouth. “Damian?” she whispered.

He checked if the coast was clear and slowly peeled off his domino mask to show his full face. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you habib –”

He was cut off by her warm lips, her arms winding around his neck. Damian immediately melted into her touch, relieved that they finally divulged their secrets. He wouldn't have to be worried about introducing her to the hero world after all.

He was extremely relieved, in fact, that he hadn't noticed his father and eldest brother stroll into the room.

“ROBIN! Are you cheating on your wife?!”

Robin pulled away from Ladybug, withholding a sigh of exasperation. He put his mask back on and turned around to see Batman looking constipated and Nightwing utterly shocked.

"How could you do that to—to . . ." Nightwing cried out.

"Leave us." He glared.

"Robin—" His father's voice was tinged with disapproval.

"Leave. Us."

Fortunately, the two scurried off. Damian faced his wife, who seemed as flabbergasted. He was worried since it was her identity that was at risk, unless he embraced the unexpected cheating allegations.

"Oh my kwamis," Ladybug said softly, "I called my father-in-law a furry ."

"It's deserved." He rubbed up and down her shoulders. "What do you want to do?"

"Oh um . . ." She ducked her head. "Maybe go home and I'll—I'll explain everything from the beginning."

***

Damian had to recount his life story after his wife shared hers whilst they cuddled in bed. After they talked, he was surprised to learn so many new things about her—he thought he had her memorized already, even before they exchanged vows. At the same time, he was mentally kicking himself for thinking that Marinette was never closely involved in the war against Hawkmoth.

Of course she was Ladybug.

Of course she was a hero.

So while she was spiraling at the number of times she'd unknowingly mocked her in-laws in the suit, he was regretting not telling her the truth sooner. If they'd opened up years ago, he would've stayed by her side during missions, helping her deal with the troubles of having a masked alter egos, and sharing his own experiences with her. A stronger bond would've formed between them, because they both understood the hero's life after all this time.

Not long after, she finally decided she was ready to tell the Waynes who she was. ‘It would do more harm than good if I kept hiding it anyway,’ she reasoned. He did agree, since she was part of the family, both as Ladybug and Marinette. The others would surely be overjoyed (and less overprotective) if they found out that she was a hero. What Damian found strange, however, was Marinette seemed to worry that Bruce's opinion on her would change and he'd become ‘distant’ as Batman as well.

“Remember, Batman is afraid of you,” he had reminded her over and over again.

(And Batman would be ecstatic to discover that Ladybug was his daughter-in-law, but Damian would never tell her that. The caped vigilante had grown fussy over the Parisian heroes as his way of ‘making up’ for the Paris incidents . . . But at the same time, he cowered ever so slightly when Ladybug raised her voice on him. Damian's siblings blamed Ladybug's black hair and blue eyes for triggering the adopt-itis.)

And so Damian and Marinette decided to arrange a family lunch to break the news to everyone. It was then Damian remembered that there was one issue he hadn't resolved yet.

“If you don't tell Marinette today, I'm telling her.” Dick glared at him from across the table.

Damian glanced at his watch. His wife wasn't present yet, and had sent him a message about picking up pastries from Paris first.

“Tt. That would mean revealing our identities, Richard.” He crossed his arms.

“Just because you have the mask on it doesn't mean you can do that to her!” Dick argued. “Does Ladybug even know you're married?! ”

“What did he do to Pixie-pop?” asked Jason.

“He---he—” Dick was once again trembling in anger and disbelief.

“We saw him kissing Ladybug.” It was Bruce who replied. “Damian, I never expected this from you. You will have to talk and apologize to Marinette.”

“You did what?!” Jason stood up so abruptly that the utensils clattered.

“What the fuck?” Tim exclaimed.

Stephanie gasped. “What the hell Damian?”

“Holy shit,” Duke whispered.

Damian could only stare at the entryway of the dining hall, hoping that Marinette would arrive soon. If he was left with his family any longer, they'd be beating him up and disowning him.

“I have . . . a reason,” he said through gritted teeth. He couldn't exactly tell them right off the bat, since Marinette wasn't there yet.

“Open . . . open relationship?” Cass frowned.

Suddenly, a bright light appeared at the ceiling—a portal— and from it, a figure dropped down, much to everyone's shock. Ladybug, unified with the Horse miraculous, grinned at them with an armful of boxes filled with croissants and macarons.

“Ladybug?” Bruce gaped.

“Your daughter-in-law actually.” She lowered the sunglasses, showing her narrowed eyes. “And your worst fucking nightmare.”

“W---What?”

Damian could barely control his laughter, seeing his father frozen.

She detransformed completely and scowled at Bruce. “This is technically your fault, furry old man! If you didn't keep agreeing to send me on those magical missions, I wouldn't be so tired and caused a misunderstanding in the first place.”

Damian didn't have time to shield himself from the eruption of noise on the table. With his wife's theatrical reveal, everyone was in different states of shock. Tim stood up quietly to face a wall with a blank stare, entertaining another existential crisis. Duke choked on the water he was drinking. Jason was crouched on the floor miserably with his hands over his face, perhaps because of the times he complained to Marinette about Ladybug's uptight methods. Dick's jaw was completely unhinged, and he was slapping himself every minute or so. Stephanie passed a hundred dollar bill to Cass.

And Bruce. Poor Bruce was paler than their porcelain plates, speechless and unmoving.

Damian exchanged a wide smile with his wife. He loved her so much.

[teatreeoilll]

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 (𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

˚• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . •

w/c - 1.6k content - MDNI! fem!reader, porn with plot, hurt/comfort??, riding Hiromi in the bath is a necessity at this point

• . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° . • . ° .•

After you leave, Higuruma Hiromi plummets onto the sofa, his limbs sprawled on the brown leather, dark, tired eyes glued to the dim TV screen. The yellow lights of his apartment taunt him, illuminating the half-empty closet, the one toothbrush left in the cup on the sink, and the empty spot where your suitcase used to lay beneath the bed.

Hiromi never took himself for a fool; the moment he'd known he fell in love, on a damp park bench, holding a cup of coffee in his frozen fingers, he uttered clearly, "You'll grow tired of me."

To which you simply laid a hand on top of his, "Drink your coffee; it'll get cold." And it was summer again, for a while. Slowly but surely, autumn neared - a missed anniversary, a canceled date, late nights at work, always followed by an apology and a kiss on the forehead that merely delayed the inevitable.

-

"Not going to answer that?" The secretary watches Higuruma stare at the ringing phone on the table, concerned by the sudden hint of emotion in his eyes.

"A misdial," He brushes off, attempting to direct his thoughts back at the paperwork on his desk.

The phone comes back to life, "It's ringing again," she remarks.

"It is," he agrees, blinking slowly while reading your name on the screen, thinking it more unlikely than god himself calling to have a chat as he slides his finger on the screen, "Hello?"

"Hiromi," the sound of his name coming from your lips almost sends his mind spiraling, "I need help."

There are many lawyers in Japan, but none like Higuruma Hiromi. You knew that, standing in the corner of the police interrogation room, dialing the number you deleted from your contacts but was still etched into your brain.

"Where are you?"

Regret settled in your mind; god, what a stupid idea, "This was a mistake," you utter into the phone.

"Where are you?" He repeats, chair squeaking as he gets up to push papers into his suitcase.

You pause, deep breaths audible through the line, "Yotsuya Police Station."

-

"She's a real something, your client," the police officer escorting Hiromi tugs at his mustache, pressing the elevator button restlessly, "Hit a man o'er the head, put him in the ICU for three days." The elevator finally opens, "She admitted it earlier, girls these days think every man is coming after them, so it's fine to bash their head in with a bottle o' wine."

Hiromi clutches onto the handle of his suitcase, fingernails digging into the leather.

"Third door on the left," the police officer leaves him in the hallway.

Hiromi hesitates, his fingers lingering on the handle as his breaths grow shallow. A rustle in the room prompts him to open the door, and he enters a bare, white space. In the middle of the room stands a large table, hiding half of your body underneath it.

Your eyes shoot up at the opening door, "Hiromi," and he feels a tug in his chest at the raspiness of your voice.

He sits on the chair across from you, loosening the tie on his neck as he places his suitcase on the table's shiny surface, "Was it a good wine?"

You stare blankly at his words, "Store bought."

"Good."

It's silent save for his suitcase's rustling when he takes a notepad out of it. Your eyes cling to his face, "Hiromi."

His arm jolts at the sound of his name, the pen in his hand leaving a mark on the paper, "When did it happen?"

"Hiromi," you repeat, your leg bouncing under the table, awaiting his reaction. "Why'd you come?"

"Any witnesses?" He asks, eyes fixed on his notepad in front of him.

"Hiromi!" You snap, "Would you talk to me?"

"I am," he moves the notepad away, stiff hand clinging to his knee.

"You're not," you breathe, "fuck, I left, and you didn't even call."

"Would you have answered?"

You grow silent, eyes scanning the empty room to find something, anything else to focus on, "I -"

"I came because you called," he can't stand to see that look on your face, his fingers digging into the fabric of his trousers.

"I would have come too," you admit softly, heart about to tear out of your chest, "If you called."

"Then why did you leave?" It's not that he didn't know the answer; it came out of his mouth as a desperate man's plea, a beggar clinging to his empty cup.

"To see if you'd call," you responded.

"And then I didn't."

"And then you didn't," and he sees it all again: empty cupboards, the spare key to the apartment lying flat on the coffee table, laughing at him.

For a moment, he recalls where he is, your unbrushed hair, disheveled clothes hanging off your body, red eyes under the bleak fluorescent retaining a defeated look that eagerly awaits whatever is to come out of his mouth next, "Any witnesses?"

-

He opens the door to his apartment with a shaking hand, a strange relief washing over him when he lets you walk in first, "Are you sure you want to stay here?"

"I doubt the landlord's wife would let me stay in that place, after I smashed a bottle over her husband's head and all, y'know."

"Right," he flicks on the lights.

You were very much aware of his routine at that point: a cup of tea, walking by the dying plant he always forgets to water, the hum of a record he'd put on while drawing a bath and then soak in until the skin on his fingers would shrivel.

You sat on the sofa, staring in silence at some poorly made sitcom playing on the TV as the door to the bathroom closed. You decide to get up, pacing around the apartment, which still looks just like the way you left it, the closet still standing half empty, like it's waiting to be filled with your clothes yet again, "God, that man."

You strip, looking over at the change of clothes he'd left for you, ignoring it as you walk up to the bathroom door.

"You don't have to do that," Hiromi mutters at your naked figure, his breath hitching the closer you draw to the bath.

"I want a bath too," your lips curl up as your foot touches the warm water, steam still clouding the vicinity. You put it firmly on the ceramic bottom before lowering your body into the warm bath, breathing out a sigh at the feeling.

You straddle him, running a hand over his chest, reaching his head, letting your fingers brush wet strands of hair out of his face, "You look good like this, Hiro," you mutter, bending down to press a chaste kiss on his lips, tasting the remnants of black tea on his mouth. A hushed moan escapes your lips when you feel him twitch beneath you.

He raises an arm, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he pushes your head further down, his breath fanning over your face for a split second before he parts your lips with his tongue, water splashing as he raises another arm to wrap around your back.

"God, you're beautiful," he hums, growing dizzy when you rock your hips against him, pussy gliding against his hard cock, waves of warm water crashing onto the bathroom floor while you moan into his mouth, fingernails raking through his damp hair.

"I-It's a shame, Hiro," you stutter, letting a soft pant out of your mouth as you lower a hand under the water, tightening your fingers around his cock to align it with your entrance, "I-If you called, we could've - " you moan as he thrusts his hips up, feeling the tip of his cock push in before sinking yourself onto his length, "done this a lot sooner."

Hiromi lets out a strangled groan, dark eyes focused on your face twisting with pleasure as you lift yourself up, only to come down on his length again, your hands leaving his hair to hold yourself steady against his wet chest, fingernails leaving crescent moons on his skin.

"Fuck - " He breathes, his large hands gripping your waist, helping you as you raise and lower your hips onto him while he listens to your breath quickening, biting back a moan every time the water splashes at the smack of your thighs against his hips.

Your hips stutter, the tip of his cock hitting the spot inside you that made you see stars, vision blurred by the steam as you tried to keep up the pace, muscles in your thighs burning as you rode him, "Hiro - fuck - " his name comes out as a plea, which he recognizes promptly, releasing the grip on the side of your waist to slip a hand between your legs, tracing a long finger over your folds.

"A little more f' me, baby," He urges, rubbing circles over your clit, watching the beads of sweat form on your forehead, trying to hold off his own high as he feels your walls flutter around him, "like that - fuck," he groaned as you dug your fingernails deeper in his skin.

"Hiro - " and there's nothing left to hold on to, your back arching, heat pooling in your stomach as you lower yourself desperately on his cock, coming undone under the touch of his fingers still working on your clit, feeling his cock twitch, emptying himself inside you as your vision spots.

Your breath slows as you melt into his arms, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, "Not much left of the bath," you chuckle breathlessly, looking at the puddles of water covering the floor.

"It's fine," he mutters into your hair, his hands wrapping themselves around your back, and you feel a twitch from his cock beneath you, "I think it's time for bed anyway."

[naivegh0ul]

OKAY BUT how about Older¡Ghost extremely jealous when his neighbor (reader) brings someone to her house to fuck with her? He would be extremely mad about it, but couldn't help but hear her moans and whimpers, wishing it was him instead making her feel good. (And to be honest, she may only did that to caught Ghost's attention )

YESSS god I love the idea of jealous Older!Ghost (it took me way too answer this i am so so so sorry anon!!!)

(warnings: smut, fem reader, older!ghost, jealousy, blowjobs, face fucking)

(word count: 1908)

It's 3am and Ghost hasn't gotten an ounce of sleep. How could he, when he can hear you moaning so sweetly through the walls. This has been a nightly occurrence. Ghost would go to bed, lay there for a while as he scrolled through pictures of you on his phone, and then the moaning would start.

The first time it happened, Ghost brushed it off, he's heard you pleasuring yourself through the walls before. Hell, he's even watched you. But this time you sounded different. Not so breathy, more high-pitched. Exaggerated.

The second time, he heard the creaking noise. Your bed must be rocking back and forth. Again, not the first time Ghost has heard that, but it is the first time he's heard grunts to go along with it.

Now, at three o'clock in the morning, Ghost has finally had enough. He climbs out of bed, feeling angry and annoyed. Angry that his sleep is being disrupted, and annoyed that he's hard from your moans.

He storms out of bed and out of his house, making his way towards your home in only a pair of grey sweatpants and socks, the imprint of his hard cock visible at the front of his sweats.

There's no response when Ghost knocks the first time, so he goes to knock again but your front door swings open before he can. "Mr. Riley!" You exclaim, slightly out of breath. "W-what's the matter?"

Ghost looks you up and down not so discreetly, noting the fact that one of your pant legs is riding up a little, and your shirt is up slightly, revealing the hickies and bite marks littering your stomach.

A twinge of jealousy filled Ghost at the sight. He has no right to be jealous, he knows that, but he is. You are his. Not officially, but you belong to Ghost. He knows what you like, how to crook his fingers to make you cry out his name, what filthy things to say to make you an embarrassed, whining mess.

That man in your bed probably has no idea what to do, he most likely just whipped his dick out and tried to put it in you, not even bothering to make you cum on his fingers first. He's probably your age, too. Young, immature, thinks with his dick.

Ghost can feel himself getting riled up the more he thinks about that stupid guy in your house. Ghost's is gonna give him what he deserves, the second he leaves your house Ghost is gonna wrap his hands around his throat and watch the life bleed from him-

"Simon?" Your sweet voice coos, pulling Ghost out of his spiraling thoughts. "Have a nice night." Ghost grunts out, turning away and walking straight back to his house.

Going to your house was a bad idea. You're a grown woman, for God's sake. He should leave you alone and stop being such an obsessive old man.

The sound of your sock-covered feet hitting the pavement has Ghost turning around before he enters his house. "Simon!" You say, looking up at him as you come to a stop on his front doorstep. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?" There's clear concern in your eyes, making Ghost's heart melt.

"'M fine, love. Don't worry 'bout me." Ghost sighs, reaching forward to ruffle your hair. "Go back inside, 'm sure your guest is waitin' for you."

Ghost tries to turn around again but your hands reach out and grab the waistband of his joggers. "He..." You mumble, looking down at your feet. "He doesn't make me feel as good as you do." You admit as you glance up at Ghost with pleading, desperate eyes.

"Love..." Ghost sighs again "'M too old for you, alright? Go back inside, pretty girl." He leans forward and kisses your forehead softly and strokes your hair before pulling back.

Suddenly, you're on your knees in front of him, hands tugging at his waistband. "Please, Simon?" You coo, palming him through his joggers. Ghost swears under his breath, cock twitching and his hands curling into fists as he fights off the urge to give in.

No, he gave in once. He got his fill, he shouldn't be greedy. But you look so pretty in front of him, kneeling on the hard concrete, your face so close to his throbbing cock.

"You really want this, don't you?" Ghost says as he rubs the bridge of his nose. "Come on, get up. Don't want you kneeling on the concrete." Ghost reaches down and pulls you up, guiding you into his house.

Once the door is shut, you sink to your knees again, eager to please Ghost. "Fuck, you're eager." Ghost breathes as he undoes the ties on his sweatpants, pushing the garment down past his hips, exposing his cock to you.

He watches as your throat bobs and you swallow, your hands sliding up and down his thighs impatiently. Ghost wraps a hand around himself and strokes himself a few times, watching as you shuffle forward and open your mouth.

"Just this once." Ghost thinks to himself as he grabs the back of your head and slowly pushes his cock inside your waiting mouth, groaning loudly as the feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfs him.

His hand guides you up and down the length of his cock, his fingers tangled in your hair and tugging ever so slightly. He has to fight the urge to buck forward, to fuck into your mouth as you drool all over him.

When he feels your hand on his balls suddenly, he jolts, a moan being shocked out of him as you gently roll them in your hand. "Attagirl," Ghost praises softly, barely audible over the sound of your slurping and gagging as you try to pleasure him at your pace, not his.

Ghost lets you do what you want, letting go of your hair and watching as you scoot forward and take more of Ghost into your mouth. It's a delicious sight, seeing your mouth stretching around him as your fingers wrap around the base of Ghost's cock.

You move further down Ghost's shaft each time, taking more and more of him. Your lips bump into your fingers as you take away one each time, building yourself up until finally you've got Ghost's cock buried deep in your throat, your neck bulging ever so slightly.

"Fuuuck," Ghost groans as he throws his head back, bumping it into the wall. His hips jerk, forcing himself further down your throat and making his heavy balls slap against your face. When you swallow around him, it takes everything in him not to cum right then and there. He has to pull you back so he can control himself.

You're pulled off with a wet cough, one hand holding your throat while the other wipes the spit from your mouth. "Why'd you stop?" You rasp as you look up at Ghost, licking your lips.

"Got close." You tilt your head at his explanation. "Why didn't you just cum then?" Your hand finds its way back to Ghost's cock, your thumb and forefinger gently pulling back Ghost's foreskin as you wait for a response.

"Didn't know if... mhm, if you wanted me to." He pauses mid-sentence as you wrap your lips around his tip, lapping the milky white precum beading from his slit. Your tongue digs under his foreskin, licking him teasingly.

You're so good at this, making Ghost feel like he has no control and you're in charge when you're only giving him a blowjob. You're not even doing anything special, not ordering him around or trying to be dominant, you're just gently suckling on his cock and now you've got him wrapped around your finger.

And it's not fair. Ghost wants to fuck a pretty girl like you with no repercussions, but he knows that's not possible, the moment they're having explains that all away. You can't get pleasure from anyone other than Ghost, and he can't stop himself from pleasuring you.

He's trying so hard to focus and what you're doing, but the way your hand strokes him and your tongue laps at him has him feeling floaty and drunk so he doesn't notice when he starts thrusting his hips forward slowly, fucking into the wet heat of your mouth.

Your hands hold onto his hairy thighs as he gently fucks your mouth, your nails scratching lightly as you let him do what he wants. He sounds so gorgeous, breathy moans and groans escaping his throat as he rocks his hips.

You watch him, big eyes looking up at Ghost curiously as you swallow. He looks so good from where you're kneeling, mindless yet focused as he moves you up and down on his cock like you're a toy, just a thing for his pleasure.

And you let him. You let him drag you along his cock or hold you still so he can fuck into your mouth; you let him lose himself as he stares into your teary, lustful eyes.

"So pretty down there." Ghost mumbles, slurring his words as if he's drunk on the feeling of you. "Perfect little mouth, so warm..." His hand moves from the back of your head to the side, Ghost's other hand joining in as he holds you still and slowly thrusts into your mouth, letting out breathy little grunts each time.

He's close, you can tell from the way his breathing speeds up and hips move faster, eagerly bucking into your mouth. Ghost gets rough when he's close, you know that, so you're prepared when he adjusts his stance and grips your head tighter, pulling you down so your nose is buried in the thick hair at the base of his cock.

"Fuuuck," Ghost groans as he feels your throat contract, watches as your eyes water and your hands grip his thigh. "Good fucking girl, takin' me so well." His thumb swipes below your eye, wiping away your tears as his hips snap against your face, balls slapping your chin.

"'M close," He pants, feeling his cock twitch in your mouth. "You gonna swallow it like a good girl?" At his words, you moaned, eyebrows pinching as you scooted forward on the floor and licked at the sensitive vein on the underside of Ghost's cock.

“Yeah, ‘s what I thought.” His hands tighten their hold on your head, pulling you closer to him. You’re a gagging, drooling mess, hands planted in your lap as you hear Ghost let out a loud, long moan, his hips stilling as he forces his cock further into your mouth, spilling his seed down your throat.

When Ghost finally lets you off – after holding you there for an unreasonable amount of time – you splutter and cough, one hand gingerly holding your throat while the other wipes your mouth.

You stand up after a moment, knees clicking and cracking from being so stiff and you look at Ghost with a tiny smile on your face and a happy expression. Boldly, you lean closer, standing on your tiptoes as you go in for a kiss.

But Ghost stops you with a hand on your shoulder, shutting you down. “We shouldn’t.” He shakes his head as he speaks. He can see the look of hurt and confusion in your eyes as you step back, visibly embarrassed.

“Um, I’ll go now.” You say softly, avoiding eye contact. “Bye, Mr. Riley.”

[yandere-daydreams]

How would Neuvilette and Ayato be on the walk of shame scale? Both our very respected authority figures and are generally known to be quite … traditional. I can’t imagine walking out of the judge personal chambers only to walk out and see guards bringing in a criminal who broke the law of public indecency and they *side eye* you so hard in your torn strap dress. Even worse is walking out of the kamisato estate and seeing Ayaka and thoma just staring at you as you limped back to a carriage, screwing her brother is one thing but doing the walk of shame with literal whip and chain marks on you is a whole new level

OKAY SO--

ayato would make things pretty unbearable if he did take you back to the kamisato estate and you had to make eye contact with his sister + closest friend with his cum still dripping down your thighs, but i think his saving grace would be the fact that he is a man of status and would be able to rent out a piece of property within the city for the sole purpose of getting his dick wet without sending you down a mental spiral. it sounds like a nice gesture, but keep in mind that he's the one who has to field ayaka's questions about his ""special friend"" who's been ""visiting soooo often lately"" and know that he is suffering alongside you.

and neuvillette did almost make the top five because of the sheer horror that would be in the eyes of any palais mermonia staff you pass after stepping into the iudex's office fully dressed and leaving bundled in his overcoat and the tattered remains of your previous outfits, but he kinda falls into the same category as ei in the sense that, uh, fining someone for public indecency is difficult when you have to deliver the charge to the address of the most powerful person in the country. some poor civil servant has to schedule your trail and not cry when you cut in half-way through to be like:

civil servant: you'll be tried at two pm on the main stage of the opera epicles. will you need assistance getting to opera house?

you: i've been to the opera house.

civil servant: i know, but i have to--

you: do you have any idea what i've done in that opera house?

civil servant:

you: do you know why the prosecutor's stand had to be replaced last week?

civil servant, sobbing: please stop fucking our president--

[actuallysaiyan]

Then You'll Make Him Happy(Scarred!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)

warnings: dark themes, yandere, breast play/nipple play, biting, marking, jealousy, paranoia, JJK spoilers, Yandere!Nanami, unprotected sex, creampie, rough oral sex(male!receiving), seriously dark content!!! word count: 2.2k pairings: Scarred!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: you arrive home late one night after Ijichi drives you home, and Kento has been spiralling. don't worry, he gives you the chance to prove to him how loyal and devoted you are! a/n: Scarred Nanami part 2! Sort of a sequel to this! Also a request for the wonderful scarred Nanami anon! art credits for the banner here

Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Taglist: @beneathstarryskies, @an-ever-angry-bi, @seireiteihellbutterfly @adharadotcom,

@heyitsd1yaa, @darkstarlight82, @melisuh123, @galactict3a,

@erebus-et-eigengrau, @aomi04, @isabelzoldyck, @cinnamon-girl-writes,

@felixmr, @typicalemo, @entirelysein-e,

@urfavmars24, @animediplomat, @menag-etroix,

@shycoconutt, @_thecoochirgirls,

@emmaiscool22, @ambiguouslady42, @mx-saph

After the Shibuya Incident, Kento wasn’t the same man. Through many sessions of physical and mental therapy, he became a bit more of the man you knew and loved over time. But there were still parts of him that would just never be the same.

The left side of his body didn’t function quite the same. His left eye didn’t have vision back, so it was a blur of shadows and lights and colors. His left leg would limp on particularly bad days, and most days he walked with a cane if he wasn’t completely bedridden. And the thing that affected him the most was the fact that he could finally be with you the way he wanted to.

Except you worried him. You always worried him. You had stayed to work at Jujutsu Tech to become a manager and a part time teacher. You often worked very late shifts. Kento disliked the fact that you thought you had to work this much.

Tonight was a night like the others. But for some reason, he had it in his mind that you weren’t coming back. He always seemed to spiral like this lately. He had been taking his medication, but the thoughts always came back. 

The thought of you leaving him for someone younger…more capable…less disabled. It hurt him to think these thoughts, but he just can’t seem to dispel them tonight. Despite your pleas for him to stop drinking, he decides it’s a good night to have a glass of whiskey.

It burns in his throat as he tries his best to push away all those thoughts of you leaving him. Tears sting his eyes when he thinks about you out with some other man. Someone younger and more capable, someone who could dance with you and fuck you better. Someone in the peak of their life. Not someone broken and discarded like him.

As the car pulls up to your apartment building, you thank Ijichi a million times over. Despite his close call in Shibuya, it was thanks to your husband that he actually ended up making it out alive. So for Ijichi, driving you home on the nights that he wanted to allow Nanami to rest more, it was nothing. This was just another way for Ijichi to thank his friend who saved him.

The minute you get inside, Nanami stands up so fast from his seat, you swear you haven’t seen him this stable on his two feet since before the incident. You try to help him back to sit, but he’s quick to push you up against the wall. You smell the whiskey on his breath.

“Who is it this time, huh? I bet he’s pretty cute. Does he fuck you just as good as me?”

Tears sting your eyes and you shake your head. You try to caress Nanami’s face, but he’s so quick to push you against the wall even more. He’s not wearing his eyepatch, which makes him look even more menacing.

“Are you going to answer my question, darling?”

You moan, “N-no! It’s ridiculous! How can I show you my devotion?”

Nanami snarls and he pushes himself off of you. He wants to believe you. But he saw you coming out of a car with a man in the driver’s seat. In his fit of rage, he didn’t quite make out that it was his good friend Ijichi.

“Who drove you home? Are you fucking him?!” Nanami asks.

“It was Ijichi-san! He wanted you to rest. This is why he drove me home.”

Nanami looks at you, trying to decide if you’re telling him the truth or not. Then he comes over to you, his hands gripping your blouse.

“If you’re devoted to me, then you’ll have to show it. Prove it to me. Prove to me that you haven’t lost interest in me,” His words are so dark and powerful.

You squeal the minute he rips your blouse open. Your cheeks burn as you realize the underwear you’re wearing under it. It’s a lacy, silky little thing. With you working so much lately, you haven’t been able to get on top of the laundry. So you found yourself with the decision to either go commando at work or wear the cute lingerie set you bought to surprise Kento so many months ago.

“What the fuck is this?! Why are you fucking wearing this?!”

You whine, “I-I didn’t have anything else to wear! I haven’t been able to do the laundry.”

He pushes you up against the wall, his lips pressing down on yours hungrily and in a possessive way. Kento desperately wants to believe you because he doesn’t want to believe the opposite. The thought of you wearing this cute and sexy lingerie set for someone else makes his blood boil. When he pulls away, you’re almost out of breath.

“Get into the bedroom. Strip your clothes.”

You do as you’re told. You make a beeline for the bedroom, opening the door and removing your ruined blouse. Nanami follows you, limping slightly. He watches as you strip for him. You were going to prove just how devoted you are.

“On your fucking knees. Keep those stockings on.”

The command makes you shudder from head to toe. With your blouse off and skirt resting at your feet, you’re left in only your stockings and garter belt. Nanami begins to palm at his erection as you get on your knees. The way you look up at him like he hung the stars in the sky for you, it’s making him throb in his pants.

“Are you my good girl?” He asks, grabbing your hair.

“Yes. yes I am. I’m your good girl.”

He loves the way you’re reacting to this. It’s exactly how he wanted it to go. But damn, those thoughts had very clearly clouded his logic. With his free hand, he unzips his pants and releases his heavy cock from the confines of his pants. He pumps his cock a few times, making it dribble precum.

“Suck.”

Just one word and it has need pooling deep inside of you. You open your mouth; saliva is already drooling out. Nanami loves seeing you so needy for cock like this. He thrusts into your mouth, making you gasp. You nearly choke on his length. His hips begin pumping and he holds you by your hair.

“Be a good girl. Suck daddy’s cock.”

He looks down at you. His eyes are dark. Especially the injured one. It’s always dark, but this time it’s even darker. You try to keep eye contact with him. It’s just too tough to do so. You’re trying to breathe and trying not to choke. The way you tremble under his gaze makes Nanami throb in your mouth.

His hips begin to snap as he fucks himself down your throat. You sputter and cough as you do everything you can to adjust to this rough sex. Your eyes are almost pleading for him to slow down, but you know you want to make your husband feel so loved.

Finally he pulls out and he uses the tip to tap your lips. He smears saliva and precum all over your face. Kento smirks at the mess of your mouth and face. He then releases you.

“I can see you’re still devoted to me.”

He helps you onto the bed, spreading your legs. His hands linger on your thighs, feeling the soft nylon of your thigh-highs. He leans in to kiss you hungrily, reveling in the way you taste of his cock and his precum. It’s so intoxicating to taste himself on your lips. He’s the only man you’ll ever treasure forever.

“You can be a good girl, huh?”

You nod your head eagerly. “Y-yes daddy.”

He smirks when he hears that word coming from you now. Kento leans in to kiss you hungrily again. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, penetrating your lips. You two make out for a few minutes. He loves the way your hips buck up to meet his.

Then his lips trail down your chin, down your jaw and to your neck. You cry out when he nips at your neck. He sucks on the skin for a few seconds, leaving a dark red mark. He then licks the mark, making you shiver.

“You’re mine,” he says as he slams his lips against yours. “Mine.”

Your fingers tangle in his hair as he kisses a trail down from your neck to your breasts. He licks softly at one of your nipples. Then he kisses the other. You sigh happily as he’s becoming a bit more soft with you. Then he bites down on your breast, making you gasp and whine.

“K-Ken…”

He looks up at you with sheer possessiveness in his eyes. He bites down a little harder, almost drawing blood. Then he begins to lavish your breasts in kisses, praising you for being so good to him.

“My angel…oh my angel.”

Then he spreads your thighs. Kento gets on his stomach and begins to lap at you like you are the only thing he ever wants to taste for the rest of his life. The moans and whimpers that are ripped from your mouth as he suckles and licks your clit are downright pathetic. You’re shuddering and thighs are clenching as he works you fast to the most earth shattering orgasm.

“Cumming! Cumming!”

He doesn’t need to hear more. You could easily suffocate him between your thighs and he’d die a happy man. Kento loves being able to make you cum so hard you nearly pass out. He looks up at you, loving the way your eyes are so rolled back he can only see the whites of your eyes.

Your release is intense. You desperately try to breathe, but all the air feels like it’s being knocked out of your lungs. Kento’s name is on your lips as your thighs clench and your cunt pulses around nothing. Nanami plunges his tongue into your hole; he’s eager to taste your nectar.

With you trembling and whimpering, he knows you’re ready for the next part. He grasps his cock, slapping your clit with it.

“Tell me,” Kento’s voice is deep. “Tell me who you fucking belong to. Who does this pussy belong to?”

You whine as you feel the tip of his cock slapping against your swollen clit. “I belong to you!”

He grips both your breasts, making you whine as his fingers dig into the previous bite mark. He loves hearing you whine just for him. It’s one of the sexiest sounds he’s ever heard. Kento dips down to suckle on your nipples, going from one to the other.

“I think I need to fuck a baby into you. Then you’ll stay for sure.”

The words make your stomach do flips. You know he’s been talking about this a lot since the two of you have rekindled your intimacy since the incident. Kento growls as he continues to suck on your nipples.

“Imagine how full your tits will be. You’ll let daddy suck on them, yeah? Save a little milk just for me?”

You look down at him and you notice how his expression has changed. His eyes are softer as he suckles on your nipples. You caress his face, making him whimper softly.

“Wanna get you knocked up.”

This is when he changes his expression once more. It’s dark and needy once more. Demanding and possessive. He spreads your legs, spitting on your already soaked cunt and shoves his cock into you. You gasp and try to reach for him, but Kento decides to intertwine your fingers together as he snaps his hips.

“I love you,” he growls in your ear. “I’m gonna knock you up. Make you a mommy,”

Your legs wrap around him, pulling him even deeper. With every thrust, he’s pushed even closer to the edge. He has to rest himself on your chest to try and ground himself. The fluttering and pulsing of your walls is proving to be almost too overwhelming. Every breath is shaky as he tries to desperately stabilize himself.

“G-gonna fucking cum inside you. Let daddy cum inside you.”

Another moan is ripped from you as Kento releases your hands and he grabs onto your hips. He slams himself into you harder, deeper and faster. Sweat slicks your skin, leaving a sheen on his marblesque body. You’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as him, even with his scars. 

“Cum inside me,”

Your words surprise him, but they please him. He brings one of his hands to your face, his thumb sliding into your mouth. You suck on it eagerly, making him throb and twitch inside you. Then he slides his hand back down to between your thighs, rubbing your clit.

“Cum with me. Please, cum with me!”

It takes so little effort for him to send you careening over the edge. A loud moan erupts from your lips, and the pulsing of your silky walls pushes Kento into his own release. He whines loudly with every sticky thrust that sends his cum even deeper inside of you.

And then everything comes down slowly. Kento slumps against you, and you’re quick to begin playing with his hair and gently rubbing his back. He sighs happily and then he looks up at you.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Shhh…don’t think about it just right now. We can deal with this together in the morning, okay?”

Kento smiles, “I’m going to make an appointment with my therapist tomorrow,”

You kiss his forehead, proud of him for overcoming something like that. Though you wonder…you really did enjoy him being possessive with you like that.

[moonxknightx]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : SHATTERED REFLECTIONS : :;

╰┈➤ ❝ [PAIRING] ❞ Dark!Toxic!Logan Howlett x F!Reader

・❥・GENRE: Angst

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆FANDOM: X-Men

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: Violence: Contains descriptions of physical violence and assault, including an assault with claws, Emotional Distress: Deals with themes of heartbreak, emotional manipulation, and the impact of toxic relationships, Adult Themes: Includes mature content related to romantic relationships, jealousy, and emotional trauma, Character Deaths: Implies potential for severe injury, with one character being gravely hurt, Mentions of Y/N

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥SUMMARY: you’re a human working at the X-Mansion who ended things with Logan Howlett after catching him with Jean Grey. Unaware of the truth, you’re forced to confront Logan when his anger and obsession lead him to violently attack your new boyfriend, Mark.

Based on this request.

THE WIND RUSTLED THE LEAVES SURROUNDING THE SPRAWLING X-MANSION, a stark contrast to the tense energy crackling in the air. You pulled your coat tighter, stepping out of your car and making your way toward the grand estate. Working at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was never boring, especially as one of the few humans on staff. It was a privilege, some might say, to work among mutants and the mighty X-Men, but you weren’t here for privilege. You were here for a fresh start.

It had been years since the breakup with Logan Howlett, and while the scars remained, you had done your best to move on. He was still around, of course. You couldn't exactly escape him in a place like this, but you had mastered the art of avoidance. Besides, the past was the past. Your life wasn’t on hold anymore.

“Hey, you”

You turned at the familiar voice. It was Mark, the guy you had started seeing recently. A friendly smile tugged at your lips as he jogged up to you, carrying his usual easy-going charm.

“Hey,” you greeted him softly. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

Mark shrugged. “Thought I’d walk you in. Plus, I didn’t get enough of you last night.”

You chuckled, feeling warmth spread through you, but that small moment of lightheartedness faded as a shadow approached from the front gates.

Logan.

His figure was unmistakable—tall, rugged, broad shoulders, and that untamed edge that always made him stand out. Except this time, his eyes, burning with a feral intensity, were locked on Mark. He barely acknowledged your presence.

"Who's this?" Logan growled, his deep voice sending a chill down your spine.

Your heart skipped, a pit forming in your stomach. You hadn’t told Logan about Mark because… well, there hadn’t been a reason to. But now, standing here, facing him like this, you felt the weight of his presence more than you’d like to admit.

"This is Mark," you replied, trying to keep your tone casual, but Logan's expression remained unreadable, his jaw set tightly. "We're seeing each other."

Logan's eyes flicked over Mark, as if sizing him up, and something primal simmered beneath his gaze. "Seeing each other, huh?" His lips curled into something resembling a sneer. “Doesn’t seem like much.”

“Logan,” you warned, stepping forward slightly. “Don’t.”

Mark, oblivious to the brewing tension, extended his hand toward Logan. “Hey, man, I’ve heard a lot about you—"

But Logan didn’t take the offered hand. His eyes flashed with barely restrained rage, his fists clenching. "I bet you have."

Mark’s brow furrowed, and he pulled his hand back awkwardly. The air around you thickened with unspoken hostility. You stepped between them, your heart racing as memories of the past came flooding back—memories of Logan’s anger, his possessiveness.

"Logan, stop it. This isn’t your business anymore," you said firmly, hoping your words would snap him out of whatever violent spiral he was heading toward.

Logan’s gaze, now locked on you, darkened with something far more painful than anger. “The hell it isn’t,” he spat. “You think you can just move on? After everything?”

Your chest tightened. "It’s been years, Logan. We’re over."

His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of something deep in his eyes—hurt, betrayal. But then it was gone, replaced by that all-too-familiar fury.

“I didn’t cheat on you,” he said suddenly, his voice low but filled with intensity.

You flinched. The wound from that day was still fresh, still raw. The day you walked into the common room and saw Jean Grey pressed against Logan, her lips on his, and him—God, you thought he was kissing her back. It was the last thing you had seen before walking away. No words, no confrontation, just pain, and silence. You left before he could explain, before you could see how he had pushed Jean away, fury radiating off him like a wildfire.

“I know what I saw, Logan.”

“No. You saw what she wanted you to see,” he growled. “Jean forced herself on me. I didn’t want her.”

You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping you. “That’s convenient, isn’t it? To blame her when she’s not here to defend herself.”

Logan's eyes flared with anger, his claws unsheathing slightly as he took a step toward you. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You never stayed long enough to hear the truth.”

“Maybe I didn’t want to hear it!” you shot back, your own anger rising to meet his. “You think that makes it okay? You think your anger fixes everything, Logan?”

Mark, who had been silent this whole time, stepped in, sensing the escalation. “(Y/N), maybe we should just—”

“No!” Logan snarled, his eyes darting to Mark. “You don’t get to talk here, pretty boy.”

Mark’s face hardened. “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble.”

Logan’s laugh was cold, venomous. “You already found trouble.”

“Logan, enough!” you yelled, stepping between them again. “This is done. We’re done. You need to accept that.”

Logan’s eyes locked onto yours, and for the first time, there was something broken there—something desperate. His voice was low, almost pleading. “I was going to marry you, (Y/N).”

Your breath caught in your throat. It was the first time either of you had mentioned the engagement since the breakup. The ring that had once felt like a promise, like forever, now felt like a distant memory. You blinked away the sudden tears that threatened to spill, shaking your head.

“You can’t keep holding onto that, Logan. It’s over.”

He took another step closer, his eyes blazing with something dark, something dangerous. “It’s not over for me.”

You were about to respond when a sharp movement caught your attention. Logan had lunged forward, grabbing Mark by the collar and yanking him off his feet. A gasp escaped your lips as Mark struggled against the iron grip.

“Logan, no!” you screamed, panic seizing your chest as you tried to pull him off. “Let him go!”

But Logan didn’t budge, his claws extending fully now as he pressed them dangerously close to Mark’s throat. Mark’s eyes widened in fear, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to speak.

“This guy,” Logan snarled, his voice dripping with venom, “he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Stop!” you yelled again, tears streaming down your face as you pulled at his arm, desperation clawing at your insides. “Please, Logan, don’t do this!”

For a moment, the world seemed to hang in the balance, the weight of your plea hanging in the air between you. Logan’s eyes flicked to you, something unreadable flashing across his face.

Then, slowly, agonizingly, he released Mark, who fell to the ground gasping for breath.

“Get out of here,” Logan spat, his voice shaking with rage. “Before I change my mind.”

Mark scrambled to his feet, grabbing your arm as if to pull you away with him, but you stood frozen, your eyes locked on Logan’s.

“Go,” you whispered to Mark, your voice hollow. “I’ll catch up.”

Mark hesitated, but when you didn’t move, he nodded and stumbled toward the gate.

When he was gone, you turned back to Logan, your heart shattering all over again. “You can’t do this, Logan.”

He didn’t answer, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he stared at you, his claws retracting slowly. “I can’t lose you,” he finally whispered, the words a broken confession.

You shook your head, wiping the tears from your face. “You already did.”

And with that, you turned and walked away, leaving Logan standing alone in the cold.

~

The days after your confrontation with Logan blurred into a haze of unease. Despite his promise to give you time, his presence weighed heavily on your mind, lurking just beyond the edges of your thoughts. Every glance in the halls, every shared silence during meetings—it all felt charged with a tension you couldn’t shake.

Mark had backed off since that night. You couldn’t blame him. As much as he tried to be supportive, you knew Logan’s threat had shaken him to his core. The encounter had left its mark on you, too. It was clear Logan hadn’t moved on, and you couldn’t ignore the fact that some part of you hadn’t either. But the idea of going back? It scared you.

You stood in front of the X-Mansion’s grand staircase, staring at the students milling about. They were oblivious to the storm that brewed inside the walls of this place, inside your heart. You had work to do—there was always work—but your thoughts were far from your responsibilities.

“(Y/N?)”

A familiar voice snapped you out of your reverie. It was Scott Summers, his presence commanding as always, but his tone carried a gentleness that you hadn’t expected.

“You okay?” he asked, adjusting his visor slightly. “You’ve been… distant lately.”

You hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Scott had always been one of the more perceptive X-Men, but you weren’t ready to unload the entire mess that was your emotional state onto him. He, more than anyone, had a complicated history with Logan—especially when it came to Jean.

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing a smile. “Just a lot on my mind.”

Scott studied you for a moment before nodding slowly. “If you need to talk, you know where to find me.” He paused, then added quietly, “Logan’s not easy to deal with. Just… be careful.”

His words hung in the air as he walked away, leaving you to contemplate what "careful" even looked like in a situation like this.

~

That evening, you found yourself wandering outside, the cool air soothing against your skin. The grounds around the mansion were sprawling, and you often came out here to clear your mind. Tonight, though, your thoughts were too tangled to unravel.

As you walked along the wooded path that led to the edge of the property, you heard footsteps behind you. At first, you tensed, but then a familiar scent of whiskey and cigars filled the air.

“Logan,” you said, without turning around.

He stepped into view beside you, silent at first, his eyes scanning the darkened sky as though looking for answers. He didn’t say anything, but the tension between you was palpable, like a rope pulled too tight, threatening to snap.

“Why are you here?” you asked softly, not trusting yourself to look at him.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he muttered, his voice low. “You’re always running away, (Y/N).”

You clenched your jaw, trying to keep your emotions in check. “I’m not running. I’m thinking.”

Logan scoffed, a sound filled with bitterness. “Thinking? About what? Him?”

Your heart skipped at the venom in his voice, and you finally turned to face him. His eyes were locked on you, fierce and unyielding, as if the very idea of Mark being in your life was an insult to him.

“This isn’t about Mark,” you shot back. “This is about you, Logan. About us. What we’ve become.”

“And what’s that?” he growled, taking a step closer, his posture tense and coiled, like a predator ready to strike. “What are we now, You tell me.”

You didn’t have an answer. What were you? Ex-lovers? Former fiancés? Two people who couldn’t let go of a future that was never going to happen?

“I don’t know,” you whispered, your voice breaking slightly. “I don’t know anymore.”

Logan’s expression softened for a moment, the anger ebbing away just enough for you to see the pain beneath it. “I never wanted it to be like this,” he murmured, his voice gruff but vulnerable. “I never wanted to lose you.”

Your chest tightened at his words. There was a time when you would have believed him without question, when his love was the only thing that mattered. But now? Now you were caught between what was and what could never be.

“You have to let go, Logan,” you said, your voice shaking as you forced the words out. “We can’t keep doing this.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening again. “I can’t let go,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I won’t.”

A cold chill ran down your spine at the intensity in his tone. You had seen Logan angry before, had witnessed the fury of the Wolverine—but this? This was different. It wasn’t just anger. It was obsession.

“You have to,” you whispered, stepping back, putting some distance between you. “This… this isn’t healthy. For either of us.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, and he took another step toward you, closing the distance again. “You think I care about healthy? About what’s good for me?” His voice dropped, the desperation leaking through. “You are all i’ve got.”

Tears stung at your eyes as you looked at him, his face etched with years of pain and regret. You wanted to reach out, to touch him, to comfort him. But you knew that if you did, you’d be pulled back into the same toxic cycle you had worked so hard to escape.

“I can’t be that for you anymore,” you said softly, tears slipping down your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

Logan’s face twisted with anguish, his hands balling into fists at his sides. For a moment, he looked like he was going to argue, to fight you on it, but then something in him broke. His shoulders sagged, his anger dissipating into something far more heartbreaking.

“Don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Don’t leave me.”

The raw vulnerability in his words nearly shattered your resolve, but you knew that staying would only make things worse. You had to be strong, for both of you.

“I’m not leaving you,” you said, stepping forward and gently placing a hand on his chest. His heart beat steadily beneath your palm, but it was a beat laced with sorrow. “I’m just letting us go.”

Logan’s hand covered yours, holding it against his chest, his gaze locking onto yours. For a moment, neither of you moved, the weight of everything unspoken between you pressing down like a heavy fog.

“I love you,” he said, his voice rough, desperate.

You closed your eyes, the words cutting through you like a blade. “I know.”

And with that, you pulled your hand away, stepping back, the loss already aching in your chest. Logan watched you go, his face a mask of pain, but he didn’t follow. He just stood there, rooted to the spot as you walked away into the night.

~

It wasn’t long after that night when things took a darker turn.

A few days passed, the tension between you and Logan lingering but unspoken. Mark had returned, cautious but understanding. You were trying to rebuild some sense of normalcy, though deep down, you knew it wouldn’t last.

One afternoon, as you were finishing up paperwork in your office, you heard a commotion outside. Raised voices, hurried footsteps. Something was wrong.

You rushed into the hallway, finding a group of students gathered around. They parted when they saw you, revealing a sight that made your blood run cold.

Mark was lying on the ground, barely conscious, his face bruised and bloodied. His shirt was torn, and there were deep claw marks across his chest. He was gasping for air, his eyes wide with pain.

“Oh my God,” you breathed, rushing to his side. “What happened?”

A nearby student, shaken, spoke up. “It… it was Logan. He went crazy. Attacked him out of nowhere.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach, your mind reeling with shock and disbelief. You had seen Logan angry, but this—this was beyond anything you had imagined.

“Get help,” you barked, panic flooding your veins as you pressed your hands against Mark’s wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. “Get Hank— now!”

As the student ran off, you looked down at Mark, tears blurring your vision. “Mark, stay with me,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Please, just stay with me.”

But as you spoke, your thoughts drifted to Logan, to the man you once loved—and the monster he had become.

~

The frantic rush to get Mark medical attention was a blur. You barely registered the voices around you—Hank's orders as he examined Mark, the students' whispers, the quiet hum of medical equipment in the mansion’s makeshift infirmary. Your hands were stained with his blood, and your mind could barely keep up with the whirlwind of panic and guilt.

Logan. It always came back to Logan.

You paced outside the infirmary, your heart racing. Mark was stable, but unconscious, with deep wounds that would take time to heal. Hank had assured you that Mark would recover physically, but emotionally? That was a different story.

The mansion was eerily quiet as you waited, the halls seeming emptier than usual, though you knew that wasn’t true. Everyone was avoiding you—or rather, avoiding the fallout. Word traveled fast in the mansion, especially when Logan was involved. His violence wasn’t new, but this? Attacking Mark out of pure jealousy? It crossed a line that even the X-Men wouldn’t tolerate.

The quiet hum of footsteps caught your attention, and you turned to see Charles Xavier rolling down the hallway toward you. His face was unreadable, but there was a sadness in his eyes that cut through the tension.

“(Y/N),” he greeted softly, his voice steady but laced with concern. “I heard about what happened.”

You nodded, unable to trust your voice at first. “Mark… he didn’t deserve that.”

“No, he didn’t,” Charles agreed, stopping in front of you. “Logan has always been a complicated man, but his actions tonight… they cannot be ignored.”

You looked away, the sting of tears threatening to break through again. “What are you going to do?”

Charles was quiet for a moment, considering his words. “I’ve already spoken with Logan. He’s agreed to leave the mansion for a while—at least until we can assess the situation.”

“Leave?” you repeated, disbelief flooding through you. “You’re just… sending him away? What about what he did to Mark? He attacked him, Charles. He could’ve killed him.”

Charles sighed, a heavy sound filled with the weight of decades of making impossible decisions. “Logan isn’t himself right now. His emotional instability is dangerous, yes, but I don’t believe he’s beyond redemption. He needs time, space, and perhaps more help than we can provide here.”

Your chest tightened at his words. Part of you knew Charles was right—Logan wasn’t in control of himself. But that didn’t change the fact that he had hurt someone you cared about. Deep down, you had always known Logan was a ticking time bomb, but you hadn’t expected it to explode like this.

“Where is he now?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“He’s in his room, packing,” Charles said quietly. “He’ll be leaving by morning.”

You nodded, though it didn’t feel like enough. Logan leaving didn’t fix the mess he had made—it didn’t heal Mark or undo the damage he had caused. But it was a start. A temporary solution to a much bigger problem.

“I need to talk to him,” you said, the words coming out before you had fully processed them.

Charles hesitated, his brows furrowing in concern. “Are you sure that’s wise, (Y/N)? Logan is volatile right now, and—”

“I have to,” you interrupted, your voice firmer this time. “I need closure. I need him to understand that this can’t go on.”

Charles studied you for a long moment before nodding. “Very well. Just… be careful.”

You didn’t wait for anything else. You turned and headed toward Logan’s room, your footsteps echoing in the empty halls. Each step felt heavier than the last, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew this confrontation was going to be difficult, but it was necessary. You couldn’t live with this looming over you anymore.

When you reached Logan’s door, it was slightly ajar. The light inside was dim, casting long shadows across the room. You could hear the faint sound of him moving about, packing his things into a worn-out duffel bag.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open fully and stepped inside.

Logan didn’t look up at first. He was hunched over, his hands shoving clothes into the bag with an almost mechanical precision. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched, and the air around him felt thick with barely-contained rage.

“Logan.”

He froze at the sound of your voice, his back still turned to you. For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, he straightened up, his fists tightening at his sides.

“I figured you’d come,” he muttered, his voice rough.

You closed the door behind you, trying to steady your nerves. “What the hell were you thinking?” The words came out sharper than you intended, but the anger bubbling inside you couldn’t be contained any longer.

Logan finally turned to face you, his eyes dark and wild. “What was I thinking? I was thinking I’m sick of watching you run around with that punk.”

“You nearly killed him,” you snapped, your voice trembling with fury. “This isn’t about Mark, Logan. This is about you losing control, again.”

Logan growled low in his throat, taking a step toward you. “I didn’t lose control. I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“That’s even worse,” you shot back, crossing your arms as you glared at him. “You don’t get to hurt people just because you’re angry. You don’t get to—”

“I don’t get to what?” Logan interrupted, his voice rising, the anger spilling out now. “I don’t get to be pissed off that the woman I love is parading around with some other guy? I don’t get to be mad that you’ve replaced me like I’m nothing?”

Your heart clenched at his words, but you refused to back down. “You’re not nothing, Logan. You were never nothing. But this… this isn’t love. This is obsession. And it’s destroying you.”

Logan’s face twisted with a mixture of anger and pain, and for a brief moment, you saw the man you used to know—the one who was capable of love, not just rage.

“You don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I was ready to spend my life with you, sweetheart. I would have done anything for you.”

“I know,” you whispered, your voice softening just a little. “I know, Logan. But that’s not enough anymore. We’re not those people anymore.”

Logan’s fists clenched and unclenched, his entire body tense with barely-restrained fury. “I can’t just walk away, (Y/N). I can’t let you go.”

“You have to,” you said firmly, taking a step closer to him. “Because if you don’t, you’re going to destroy yourself—and everyone around you.”

Logan’s breathing was ragged now, his chest heaving with the effort of holding himself together. He looked at you, and for a moment, you saw the cracks in his armor—the vulnerability, the heartbreak. But then, just as quickly, the anger returned.

“I won’t apologize for what I did to him,” Logan growled, his eyes flashing with defiance. “He was in the way.”

You shook your head, tears stinging your eyes. “You don’t get to decide that, Logan. You don’t get to decide who’s in my life.”

For a long moment, the two of you stood there in silence, the weight of everything that had happened hanging heavy in the air. You could see the internal battle raging inside him—the war between the man you once loved and the beast he had become.

Finally, Logan let out a harsh breath, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I’m leaving,” he said quietly, his voice void of the usual bravado. “But this isn’t over, darlin’. Not by a long shot.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the finality of his words. “I hope you find peace, Logan,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “For your sake.”

Logan didn’t respond. He just grabbed his duffel bag and walked past you, his presence leaving a cold emptiness in the room.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders—but the ache in your chest remained.

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[sickeninglyshoujo]

a/n: finally finished this after being left such an essay about dad!price by @connorsui that made me want to cry with joy that someone liked my silly rambling that much so now have dad!johnny

part 1: simon here

part 2: price here

part 4: gaz here

masterlist here

buy me a ko-fi

warnings: pregnancy

word count: 1.7k

Soap has always told you that he wanted a house full of babies with you and will not take no for an answer

You rolled your eyes everytime thinking he's exaggerating but he never was.

He tells you so during your romps “Gannae pump you full of babies, mama” With any other man it would ruin the moment but the way soap snarls it out sends heat spiraling through you and having you begging him to cum inside. He’ll wear the condom if you ask him to, but he won’t bring it out on his own volition. He knows you’re the person he wants to build a family with, has known since the first date when you rolled your eyes at all his corny jokes and groaned in mock pain.

Soap will not heed doctor’s advice and tries to palm at you before you’re ready, not even caring when you whine about things not being tight and firm like they used to be

“You’re positively bonnie lass, even more now that I know those stretch marks came from our baby that you carried for me.”

Feral for a man who calls me mama

Soap will absolutely come up behind you and grab at your flesh every time you put the baby down for a nap, “Cannae help myself lass,” he’d pant as he’s rutting against you, a man possessed,  “You’ve been teasing me all day!” Even though you don’t recall doing so

You’d been taking care of the baby all morning and hadn’t paid much mind to your hyper husband as he flitted around doting on you and the little one. Little did you know that’s what he meant. Seeing you be such a good mom and a mom to HIS baby had gotten him rock hard

It was tough for him to get through your pregnancy because each time he looked at your growing belly he got turned on 

“Johnny I’m already pregnant you know, we don’t have to keep trying,” you teased every time his hands began to wander down below your hips.

“Ah cannae help it, mama, you’re glowing!” He mutters trying to nuzzle under your shirt

Asked the doctor explicitly if pregnancy sex would hurt the baby. 

“Johnny!” You hissed

“Need to know if I have to behave myself for nine months lass”

Thankfully the good-humored doctor laughed at his requests. Johnny listened intently as the doctor discussed the pros and cons of both the act and different positions with his chin resting on intertwined fingers. Soap asked question after question about your limitations much to your horror.

Once the appointment was over and you two were safely confined into your flat again, his hands were on you before the door had even closed.

“You heard the doctor's orders, Mama.”

You laughed loudly at that, “I don’t think they’re doctor’s orders as much as yours!”

“Then listen to your sergeant and let him take care of you”

“Yes, sir.” 

Johnny was constantly stumbling over himself to try and help you with chores through the pregnancy. You move to wash a dish and he’s hopping up from the couch to plush the sponge from your hand before you’ve even wet it.

“I’ve got that love,” He constantly says, trying to herd you towards the couch, “Don’ even worry about it.”

You’d still hover each time, ensuring that he completed the chores to your satisfaction.

“Johnny! The yellow rags are for dusting! Not wiping up!” You fussed.

“It doesn’t matter! They all go in the wash the same!”

“It does matter! They’re color-coded so that they stay cleaner and we don’t go through so many!”

“Johnny,” You waddle into the bedroom one morning after getting up to get a cup of tea, “It’s time.”

“Time?” The tired man pulled his head up from where he’d buried it into his pillow, “Lass, is still early, come back to bed.”

“Johnny the baby’s not going to be born in the same bed it was conceived in.”

“Yer not due for weeks yet lass, she won’t be.”

“There’s a puddle in the kitchen that says otherwise.”

“A puddle?”

“Johnny, my water broke.”

He jerks his head up from the pillow, “It’s time?”

“Yes, Johnny, I have the bag, I just need you to get dressed and drive.”

He stumbles out of bed and shoves his legs into yesterday’s jeans from where they lay on the floor, he’s nearly to the door before you hold up a hand, “Shirt, Johnny, you’re going to the hospital. You need to put on a shirt.”

He looks down at his bare chest, “Shirt? Shirt,” He turns on his heel and scoops up yesterday’s shirt too before returning to you.

“Shoe’s, Johnny.”

Johnny grabs a pair of slides from the closet and you finally let him through, happy that he’s finally presentable for your daughter’s birth.

Johnny ends up pacing the room while you rest in the hospital bed, flipping through channels on the wall-mounted television, “Thought you said it was time lass.”

“It is,” you flip past game show, news, game show, soap opera.

“Then where is she? We've been here hours now.”

“They don’t just slide out, the body has to prepare itself to squeeze out a daughter who probably has as big a head as her daddy,” He doesn’t notice your insult, instead rubbing his hands over the stubble he hadn’t gotten to shave.

When Johnny see’s the baby crown, he faints.

Your big strong army man who had been through war and back fainted at the sight of his daughter entering the world and had to be woken up by an attending nurse, “Sir, you’re going to want to wake up, your baby’s coming now.”

He ends up on wobbly feet, deposited by the head of the bed this time where he surely won’t see anything to make him faint.

After the baby’s born he makes you promise that you won’t tell anyone on his team, particularly Ghost.

“I’ll never hear the end of it,” Soap begs, “L.t. would make it known base-wide before the day is out.”

You roll your eyes, “You don’t give Simon enough credit, he’s nothing but a gentleman to me.”

“Ya only say that because he hasn’t made you run drills! He’s a right mean bastard to me!”

Soap brings the baby on base to meet the 141 at your request after moaning that you didn’t want his team to see you when you were wearing mesh panties even if you were wearing pants over them. Soap loudly announced his arrival, depositing the large carrier onto the table in the briefing room.

“Here she is,” he coos at the baby in her carseat, pulling the blanket covering her off the carrier, “The latest addition to the Mactavish clan.”

“She’s so tiny!” Gaz can’t help but note, leaning forward. 

“Didn’ think you actually had the balls to make one of them,” Ghost starts.

“How’s the missus doing?” Price asks, leaning forward to offer his finger to the bundle who takes it and grasps it.

“Sore as all hell and still mad abou’ it,” Soap bemoans, “Keeps telling me about the frozen pads she’s wearing and that it’s my fault!”

“Frozen pads?” Gaz frowns at him, finally taking his eyes off the baby.

“Aye, the lass has cleared out half the freezer so her unmentionables can be kept below thirty two degrees at all times.”

“You’re in a hell of your own making Soap, she’ll be right as rain before long and yelling at you for something else you’ve done.”

“Hope you learned to wrap it for next time, Soap,” Gaz this time.

“The poor bastard came out of the womb as dumb as this and he’ll return the same way, he’ll have another baby before this one’s out of diapers.

After the baby’s born, he takes you and her on a flight to visit the Mactavish clan. He insists on holding the baby through the flight so you could nap. He also falls asleep with the baby in his arms and his head laying on your shoulder.

His sister’s crowd around you before you can even take your shoes off when you enter the house.

The energy in the Mactavish house is the same as Soap’s when he’s first off deployment and wired, full of energy and yelling. You silently send a thanks up to heaven that the baby was already awake and well-rested as there likely would be no keeping this family quiet.

Johnny’s mother fussed over you, smoothing your hair and holding your hand, apologizing already for something her son did.

“Ma!”

“Don’ ‘Ma’ me! You gave me hell growing up, I have to make sure you’re treating her well!”

Baby Mactavish grows to be a whirlwind like her father, constantly getting into cabinets you swore you baby-proofed, leaving piles of tupperware scattered on the kitchen floor.

“Sergeant John Mactavish if you don’t come get your daughter this second!” You yell into the house while you fight against your daughter’s grip of steel on the plastic spatula.

He skids into the kitchen and scoops up the baby, turning her over in the air and using the element of surprise to snatch the utensil from her chubby hands.

“Ah, dinnae be so mean to the bairn lass, she’s jus’ explorin’,” he continues turning her over and over until she’s weak with giggles.

True to his word, Johnny gets you pregnant within a year after you're medically cleared. This time a second and third baby on the way. At once. When you learned of the split embryo at the ultrasound you scowled at Johnny, “Now see what you’ve done, John Mactavish!”

“Ah promised it to you, remember,” He took your hand in his and planted kisses on the back, ignorant of the ultrasound tech pointedly keeping their eyes on the screen, “Toldja we’d have a house-full when we first started dating.”

“I didn’t think you meant two at once!”

Not to mention the dogs that lingered on the stoop. Or the barn cats that hung around the outbuildings. The highland cows that Johnny had begged you for. The donkeys that he rescued from a feedlot. None of them were in the plan. Mactavish, the devil he is, ruins all your plans.

a/n: reblogs/comments are most appreciated but i cherish every like too, someone please talk more about this to me

[partycatty]

bit of a niche request but older johnny getting you an engraved tag/pendant to show others that you’re his? i just think it would be so cute if he did that 🫣 could be vaguely nsfw if you wanted ok im running away now bye!!!! 🏃‍♂️💨

dark star!older!johnny cage > mine all mine

warnings: ohhhhh evil sick and twisted and fucked up dark star johnny but hes the DILF THIS TIME!!!

notes: someone put me down where i stand im going batshit insane.,. also sorry this is small i only have so many ideas in my chrome dome.,. more fics otw if this gets received well :3

[ masterlist ]

• older johnny is more emotionally mature than our usual dark star younger counterpart, he's just more... possessive.

• he was a fine man before he met you, kind and honest with a pretty smile, toned down after his youth escaped him, but you sparked some kind of life in him that ate away at everything he considered to be good about himself. you needed to be marked up, labeled, tacked to a wall with his name painted across your body or he'd lose it.

• johnny's intentions were pure at first but had gone completely unchecked, letting him spiral into madness at the thought of losing you. he knew he was an attractive star, it was others he was worried about. you were his.

• dog tags with his name, necklaces, anklets, rings, clothes with your anniversary stitched into the sleeve, this man will give you anything that shows off you're together. matching outfits are a must when you're able to dress up, and he will happily throw you every credit card under his name to get your hair and nails done. all you have to do is make a passing comment about being in disrepair and he's already licking his thumb to count the cash in his wallet.

• johnny's a tracker, always worried you'll be lost to him at any given moment. location sharing apps, maybe a tracker or two in your car... not that you knew they were there.

• hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the large crowd that's more focused on him anyway. he becomes animalistic, unironically baring his teeth at those who spare an extra glance at your form in that pretty dress he splurged on for you. his grip on your back turns into fisting the fabric, bunching it up between his fingers as he contains his anger.

• wants you to be no more than his trophy. even if you're functional and capable, johnny insists to be the sole provider of everything. everything. you barely have to lift a finger for the rest of your life. trying to offer otherwise may result in an argument that digs at his ego.

• to everyone else, you're the ideal couple. he's a hard worker, dedicated, strong, loyal, and literally so jaw-droppingly fine. you'd know he has a nasty side, one he fights to keep between the two of you.

• "you don't need me," he hisses through gritted teeth. "you think i'm just some weak man, can't provide for my woman? is that what you think?" his arms are crossed, looming over you with a foul expression. "what part of 'i'll take care of everything' is so hard to understand? it's like you try to test me."

• unlike mk1 dark star johnny, this version is focused solely on your pleasure during sex. for once, he feels irrelevant, drunk on your whimpers and squirms under his big arms. he hones in easily into your cunt, his fingers buried deep inside and pumping to the point of pain. if his arm is cramping, he's not feeling it. he's too occupied trying to make you cum... again... and again...

• you're all he lives for. you're above cassie, above the special forces, leagues above earthrealm as a whole. you're his universe, his oxygen and everything that keeps him alive. if anyone or anything spares a passing thought about harming you, or worse, taking you away from him, johnny would fully consider falling to darker tactics and morals to keep you by his side.