#it gives you that same kind of longing pain that their relationship does

[ssaseaprince]

Shrike by Hozier perfectly describes Hannibal and Will's relationship.

"Then when I met you, my virtues uncounted

All of my goodness is goin' with you now"

"Dragging along

Following your form

Hung like the pelt

Of some prey you had worn"

"Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted

Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now"

"Thus transformed

By you're grounded and giving

And darkening scorn"

[jaegerbby]

➳ inculpatus

--͙[satoru gojo x female! reader]-͙-

╰┈➤ word count; 5800

╰┈➤ rundown; satoru is everything you want and more, it is time you gave him a little more of you.

╰┈➤ caution; virgin! reader (also described as having small breasts), established relationship, corruption kink, cunninglingus, size kink, cum eating, ball sucking (?), handjob, dry humping, fingering.

not proof read!

he is pretty, way too pretty for you to think properly.

"can i suck your dick?" satoru flinches once the words leave your mouth. he is perched on the quaint white sofa in your apartment and maybe you should not have spoken so loosely because his eyes slightly widen as he turns to you.

"sorry! it's just... you haven't tried anything with me." you unsurely speak, avoiding his gaze. satoru is respectful, overly so. you thought inviting him to your place would at least give him a hint without you having to spell it out for him.

sky blue eyes flit over your features before he licks his lips. they are so pink they look doll like. "i don't want to push you." he pauses. "because you're a virgin." while he does not admit it, it undeniably makes him hard.

"i'm not ready for sex but other things." you trail off, "you can do other things with me."

he jaggedly nods, his head feels dizzy after hearing you say he can have his way with you. "i'll do anything you want."

you perk up immediately.

"how do i get it hard?" he follows your gaze as you focus on his crotch. where the grey fabric of his pants are futile in concealing his bulge.

you are too cute. satoru surges forward to press soft wet kisses to the right of your neck before shifting to give the left the same treatment.

your breath picks up at his proximity, you feel the softness of his hair but it is a lot different in this atmosphere.

his large palm cups along your jaw. "you don't have to do anything. i could look at you and my cock gets so hard it hurts. it's worse cause these clothes are so skimpy." his gaze has darkened now, your mouth feels sticky with spit and your stomach turns in an unfamiliar way.

he grips your wrist to bring your hand onto his stiffened erection. "feel that?" he urges your touch along him, it feels hard, long and hot. so hot.

it does not take long before you are caressing him without any assistance, he puffs air into your face. "i didn't make a move cause i didn't want to scare you but i wanted to touch you. whenever you leaned over i saw your titties, i saw how small they are and your puffy nipples. got such cute tits, babe, wanted to suck on them so bad, would you like that?" you mewl at his low voice, his thumb strokes over your bottom lip.

"toru." his expression looks almost pained at how airy you sound, your voice is sexed out already. when you call him like that how is he supposed to stay sane?

he tugs the straps of your vest down, you practically writhe like a cock is in you as your breasts are revealed. you squeeze along his length, your little hand working him despite your lack of experience.

"i want to lick them up, see how much you squirm or if you'd cum from that alone. just from your little tits getting sucked" he paws at your chest, there is barely a handful for him to grope.

he tweaks your nipples, his eyes narrowing and his tongue flicking over his lip. he is so close you can see the sky within his eyes, the thickness of his lashes and the blush along his skin.

"you didn't wear a bra, what about panties? what kind do you wear, ones with little bows, pink, white? what's a virgin like you into? you keep your tight cunt covered in cute ones or do you dress her like a whore?" you moan at the vulgarity, your forehead leaning on his while you lose your bearings.

your pussy is a soaking mess and if you could, you would press your thighs together to relieve the ache that is building up the longer satoru invades your space.

your insides clench and clamp down, they feel like they are begging for something. satoru tugs your hand away from his heady cock and you whine.

"why don't you show me? show me what you have under those slutty shorts." he pinches at your nipple hard enough to make you wince, his teeth flashing as he smiles. he looks so pretty, far too perfect to be real.

your palm slowly strokes your pussy over your shorts, satoru's eyes hold yours before they flit down to look at you touch yourself.

his hands reach for your waist, bunching up in the fabric of your vest. he is so big and strong, his muscles flex and pulse. your fingers prod the waist band, biting your lip as you slip further in.

the soft skin of your pussy meets your fingers and the wetness pooling from your slit drenches them after. it is hot and syrupy. he can see bare skin where your hand keeps the fabric pulled taunt.

"i didn't wear any. cause you'd be here. i thought about you seeing my pussy through my shorts. did you, toru? when i answered the door or when i sat down did you see it?" he groans, rolling his head against yours.

you stroke down your slit, you are wetter than usually. you are so much wetter now than when you are touching yourself to the thought of him.

"you're driving me crazy. yeah i saw it. i saw your little cunt. you need to be careful, i'll start thinking you're telling me to take your pussy when you do things like this." you face contorts, satoru's hand trailing along your sides and his voice sounds like a wet dream come through.

you pump the underside of your fingers along your swollen opening. "i am, toru. it's already yours." your voice is all shaky and you do not sound like yourself at all.

you are all whiny and borderline desperate. you sound like you need to get fucked. you hurriedly tug your hand away to grip his face and press your mouth to his.

the slick from your fingers taints his skin and you hardly know how to kiss but satoru tilts his head to deepen it. he is a good kisser but you knew that already, you have kissed him before but never this exposed, never with this palpable tension.

he hums into your mouth, his hand cupping your throat as his tongue glides over yours. you feel like the saliva pools in your mouth, you suck on his bottom lip then you kiss him harder.

your fingers pull on his hair, your teeth gnashing. it is open mouthed and desperate. the kiss is all wet and sloppy and any time either of you pull back the other chases.

the other pushes forward to keep your mouths connected. wet smacks fill the room, his tongue claims every part of your mouth it already has and when you both lean back your chest is heaving

"fuck, oh fuck." you pant and your fists tangle in his shirt to pull him back in, your lips glide along satoru's, spit swapping and your cunt aching the more you kiss him.

you think you might give him your virginity this very moment.

his thumb strokes your throat, using his grip to draw you closer. your entire body is vibrating, you feel like every neurone in your system is firing off.

you whine, your mouth leaving his with a sticky smacking noise. "i think m'losing it." you breathlessly mutter, satoru drags his finger along your lips, smearing the saliva across the swollen flesh.

"i am too, you shouldn't have let me touch you. i won't be able to stop." you look so innocent, yet your hair is all messed up, your lips are puffy from kissing so aggressively, your cute little boobs are exposed and your pussy is so insanely wet, there is a wet patch through your shorts.

it drives satoru insane, how can you look like sin incarnate and still have innocence all over your face.

"i don't want you to stop." he groans at your admission, you need to stop before he is too far gone. you need to stop before satoru starts thinking about how the inside of your tight virgin pussy will feel. all hot, gooey and sticky. he just knows your leaky little fuck hole would take his shape so well.

he leans in to peck your lips, satoru needs to stop thinking. "m'not letting you suck my cock." you stare at him in disappointment. why are you doing that? satoru has half a mind to stick his cock in one of your holes and you are making it far too difficult not to.

his hands caress your hair, smoothening it down before he cups your face. he wants to bite your pouty lips and never stop kissing them at the same time.

"not today, not gna slip my cock in your tight baby throat and feel all those little muscles gripping me, no cause i want to eat up your pussy instead. i want to taste how sweet you are and stick my tongue in that virgin hole." your fingers paw at his body, feeling his hard stiff muscles beneath them. he tugs off your vest and you lay back as he reaches for the waist band of your shorts.

a deep sound rumbles in his chest when the material peels away from your cunt and he sees it for the first time.

"c'mon didn't you want me to see? spread your legs." and you do, without any fanfare. satoru's large palms coax along the back of your thighs before he cups under your knees to keep you open for his prying eyes. satoru wonders how long you had been thinking about showing him your hot sticky pussy.

he wishes you showed him sooner but he might have lost it since then. your cunt is dripping with slick, it leaks down your hole to your ass. you look all pink inside satoru wants to see it stretched around him, he wants to feel you gripping his cock and milking him dry.

"got such a pretty pussy, i'm lucky, so fucking lucky. my pretty girl is so gorgeous. look at this messy little hole, she's so wet, fuck." the tips of his fingers trail along your slit, collecting your wetness before he rolls your stiff clit. you jolt as he strokes your bundle of nerves. the mewl that escapes you is borderline pornographic.

he leans over to lap at your lips and then he is shoving his tongue in your mouth to roughly kiss you. his entire body is between your legs, he covers you completely. he is so big it makes you ditzy. he is hard and muscular all over.

when he is on you like this, all you can think about is how easily he could fuck you, it is all you want. you want him pounding into your pussy until you are brainless. he is so close he could take you right now if he pleased.

your hands tangle in his hair, trailing down his jaw and neck before you squeeze his broad shoulders. satoru moans into your mouth, propping his arm beside your head to crowd over you more.

your hips stuttering as he rubs your clit harder. you feel his bulge hitting the back of your thigh, hot on your skin beneath his clothes. you want to see it, you want to touch it.

"toru, i want to see you" a growl rumbles in his throat and he licks into your mouth. "take it off, please" you tug at his shirt, he does not want to stop kissing you. his expression is pained as he pulls away, hurriedly yanking off his shirt to reveal his narrow waist and the muscles all over his body.

you giggle when he shoves his pants down and almost falls over. he climbs onto you with an embarrassed smile on his face and blush coating his cheeks. "you laughing at me?" you hum. "cause you're cute and i like you." you brush the long hair away from of his forehead and wrap your legs around his narrow waist to tug him in.

when his covered erection meets your slit you both breathe heavily. "why didn't you take these off?" your finger prods the waistband of his boxers. your eyes are on his, the same ones that look like every sunny sky is held within them.

"i don't trust myself to not fuck you. if i take them off, you won't be a virgin for much longer." you shiver beneath him. that does not sound like a threat, it sounds like the solution to everything.

like something you need to keep breathing. satoru is big, every muscle in his body is defined, you can trace each one with your eyes. his shoulders, his abs, his biceps. you want to see how they flex and bulge when he is losing himself in your cunt. how they will pulse when he is fucking you.

he gropes your breasts, his tongue laving over your nipple before he sucks down on the perked flesh. your legs jerk when he thrusts his hips into yours. your stomach feels tight, you feel like there are too many butterflies within the small space.

your pussy leaks so much liquid it drenches the front of his boxers, it only makes it easier for him to hump away with your pussy. his bulky thighs are warm as they press into the back of yours to hold you open. satoru pants into your skin, you can see the ripple of his back muscles as he fucks his hips.

there are wet smacks of his cock colliding with your cunt, this alone feels so good, you know it would feel a million times better if he was actually fucking you. you want him to have you, you want the real thing. it turns your brain to mush, makes your cunt ache and your tummy tremble.

he is breathless when he kisses you, it is hard and sloppy. almost as hard as his cock grinding against you. it is thick and long, you want to have it in your hand, down your throat, inside you.

you never thought depravity would ruin you like this but it does and it is okay because satoru is the only one you will get like this for.

his hands desperately grip your cheeks and jaw. you moan as he pulls back to slam his hips particularly hard. hard enough to make your body jerk and your back arch.

"i want to eat you out. i need your pussy in my mouth, need to know how you taste." you whine, your nails dig into his nape, thighs squeezing on either side of his hips.

"anything, toru. anything you want." you mewl. the friction on your pussy has your head in a mess, more of a mess than the slick leaking from your untouched hole.

he presses his stuttering hips flush to yours, his hefty length digging into your cunt. "you don't know how much i thought about this, i used to rub my dick raw when i thought about getting my mouth on you. my tongue in you, wanted to smell and taste your pussy so bad."

he slowly kisses down your sternum, hands trailing over the heat his lips leave in their wake. his palms are so wide, just one spans your waist. just one covers the plane of your stomach. his mouth seems to water the closer he gets to your sex.

you tug your legs to your chest, your hands folded and resting over your mouth. you tense when satoru presses his nose into your slick and nudges the flesh. it is embarrassing, even after all you did, it makes you more flustered than you can explain.

"you smell like heaven, baby. fuck don't ever keep this cunt away from me." his tongue flicks out to lave over your buzzing clit and your eyes shut tightly. it is when he reaches your dripping hole does your body stiffen the most.

your toes curl as he licks you greedily, sucking at the sodden flesh. it is like he does not want to stop. he presses further, his tongue flattening over the expanse of your pussy as he licks it entirely.

"fuck, babe. your pussy's too perfect." his eyes flick upwards, they are blown out and predatory. he spreads your lips before wetly spitting a thick glob into you.

he drags it along your slit before plunging a finger inside. it is long and thick, a lot thicker than any of yours. you writhe at the intrusion.

"how am i supposed to fuck such a tight hole? won't be able to take it, i might just rip your cute little cunt apart." his mouth encloses your clit, sucking and licking as he fucks his finger into you. the pace he sets is fast and riveting, it has you moaning like a freaked up slut instead of a virgin.

you brokenly cry when he adds another finger and your insides are stretched more than they are used to. you can hear the soaked soppy noises of your hole being slammed into over and over, his slimy mouth on your clit.

it is so embarrassing. yet it feels so good, getting your insides stroked and having his mouth somewhere you never thought it should be made your entire body buzz.

his mouth wetly separates from your clit with a sticky pop. "you like that? yeah you do, got your pussy dripping all over me." he thrusts his fingers, deep and fast. like he has done it countless times before.

you dumbly nod your head, your insides squeezing his digits and your hips rutting to meet his movements. he pounds into your hole until the creamy liquid is dripping down his wrist and there are tears in your eyes. saliva webs in your mouth while you moan. he slowly pulls his digits out of you.

"you okay?" you hum, sniffling. your eyes trail along his glistening fingers, it is weird to think they were just inside of you. satoru looks at you as he kisses your abdomen, caressing your thigh before his tongue glides along your entrance.

the tip prods your cunt and you whine lowly when the hot slimy muscle finally sinks in, hips tilting at the strange sensation. he groans into your flesh, his jaw dropping to press deeper. the tip of his perfect nose nuzzles against your clit and your eyes flutter constantly.

your lids threaten to shut as his mouth drips saliva onto you and the muscle squirms within your gooey walls. the knot in your stomach pulls tighter and tighter, your thighs tensing at the sight of him bobbing his head between your legs.

your shaky fingers find purchase in fluffy white locks. the feeling of his tongue being pumped into you makes your mind go blank, it makes your mouth water and your insides tighten.

squelching sounds fill the room as he eats your cunt up. his tongue going so deep your vision blurs.

"toru, toru, toru." you did not realise you were moaning. blue eyes flick up to look at you, you who is so lost in pleasure your head is leaned back and your chest is heaving.

satoru thinks if he had to choose the happiness moment in his life it would be here, with you. you were intoxicating enough but having you like this meant he could never be without you.

your slick in his mouth drives him insane, he wants it on his tongue always, he could die happy if your pussy is the last thing he has. he sucks up your drenched hole before moving to your clit.

he laps at the mound, fingers filling your hole to replace his tongue. the faster he shoves into you the more you tremble, the more your body jolts and the tighter you grip his hair. they reach for his shoulders instead, nails digging into his flesh and it makes satoru think about you clawing his skin when his cock is buried balls deep in you.

your voice is all high pitched and whiny, your head writhes against the couch, hips bucking into his face. he does not give you a break, despite your moans being broken and shaky.

no, he slams his fingers into your creamy pussy, feeling your walls pulsing around him as he quickly thrusts into you.

your liquid splatters with the pace of his movements, his mouth alternating between sucking your clit and licking it up. your voice is all honey dew and dreamy when you cream.

satoru groans at the taste of your cum, still fingering your innocent hole as he laps at the evidence of your orgasm. your thighs tremble and you roll your hips into his face, breathless with the weight of your high.

satoru's jaw is covered with slick when he moves over you, his other hand still gently caressing between your folds after slipping out of your sensitive slit. "why do you know how to do that?" you mumble.

"i had to know just so i could do it with you." he flashes you the prettiest smile. you trace his jawline, your blurred eyes trailing over his messy hair, his lengthy lashes, his gorgeous eyes and the slope of his nose.

the pinkness of his lips is more swollen than usual and cum drips down his jaw. even so he lacked imperfections.

satoru pecks your cheek "you were so good, such a perfect girl." he presses his body flush onto yours, both of his arms hugging your figure.

your smile is flustered with his weight on you, you keep him as close as possible. you are overwhelmed in a good way.

you think you would do this countless times so long as it is with satoru. he buries his face into the crook of your neck and sighs softly.

"i don't think i could be without you." truly, he thinks it might break him. you press a kiss to his hair, your hand stroking down the toned bulked up expanse of his back.

"you'll always have me, toru." the sound that escapes him is something like a whine as he leans in to peck your lips.

"we should clean up." you slowly let go when he sits himself up. satoru's arm is resting along the back of the couch, one leg folded while the other rests on the tiled floor.

his dexterous hand adjusts his cock through his boxers. the thickness looks like it is struggling with the constricting fabric. your body feels lighter, the mess between your legs is a bit uncomfortable but you tug them to your chest and look at the male before you.

he is way too big, it makes you all tingly inside. like he could hurt you if he wanted to but he does not. like if he held you, his arms would be the most impenetrable fortress. 

"what do you want to do after?" he leans his head back, his eyes turn to you and his adam's apple bobs. he is looking at you but you are staring at his evident erection.

the thin material of his boxers does nothing to hide the girth of his aching cock nor does it conceal the wet patch from his pre cum.

"so shameless." he slyly smiles, he reaches to nudge your chin but his resolve falters when your gaze flits between his crotch and his eyes and your cute little tongue trails along the seam of your kiss swollen lips.

he hopes you do not say what he knows you will because satoru cannot resist you. not a single ounce of him has the strength to refuse you.

"toru, i can take care of you too." his smile slowly drops and his mouth dries. his eyes go dark and he tilts his head.

"yeah?" he sees your little hands bunch into fists before you perch yourself on your knees and you lean closer to him.

satoru wants you this close forever, to always see, touch and have no matter what. your hair frame your face and your lips pouts with your words.

"if you want to use my mouth or anything else, you can." you are temptation. you are temptation in the form of an angel.

satoru swallows hard, he shifts closer to you, hands cupping either side of your head. he kisses your forehead before nuzzling your nose with his.

"today isn't about me, we'll do it another time." your eyes flit over his features, leaning in to peck his plush pink lips. you grips his wrists, stroking them.

"but i want to do it now, i really want to see it." satoru breathes heavily. he feels like there is no air in his lungs.

"okay." it comes out soft, you are too good for him. "i just need you to put something on if i'm taking my boxers off."

his large palm trails down your bare chest "you're too pretty, you're everything i want and i don't trust myself to not take you." you slowly nod before holding his hand. satoru follows you without a question, he would follow you to ends of the earth without any hesitation.

your bedroom is pink where your apartment is white everywhere else, it is like you were hiding all the colour in here. it is his first time in your bedroom despite the countless times you slept over in his.

you have plushies all over your bed, the sheets are pink, your fluffy pillows are pink, your closet is wide open and all that meets the eye is pink. your laptop, headset, desk. it is all pink.

you leave him beside your bed and he sits at the edge with an increasingly painful erection making his boxers tight.

his eyes trail over your room and he has to adjust his cock again. this should not be a turn on.

yet something about you, a pretty little thing like you touching yourself in such an adorable room, getting fucked by him in here.

the thought of him pressing your face into these pink sheets and rawing your cunt with reckless abandon. it makes him lose his mind.

he winces as he tugs his swollen cock. when you come back into his view, pink lacy panties are covering your pussy and the matching bra that conceals your tits makes satoru groan.

you draw closer to him and his large palms caress your hips. "now i know you wear cute panties." he jokingly says but there is a desperate undertone in his voice.

when you kneel down, satoru thinks he might be too turned on to think. he wants to keep you to himself.

your hand strokes along his happy trail before teasing the waistband framing his deep v line. he gently grasps your wrist, preventing you from going further.

"we'll leave the blow job for another day, okay? you can use your hand, i'll tell you what to do." you nod yet your eyes look all hungry. his abs tense, staring at your face as he tucks his thumbs into his boxers and tugs them down his thighs.

finally having his aching cock unrestricted has him grunting. your expression is so flustered yet you are pressing your legs together to dull that burning desire at the sight of him.

he grits his teeth, you are staring at it, from the pinkness of his swollen tip, to the dip where his head meets his shaft. the hefty girth with veins trailing down it, there is one particularly prominent one along the underside.

satoru wants to make you feel every inch of it inside, he wants to make you take his shape. maybe he is thinking too deeply, he jolts when your mouth surrounds the side of his ballsack and your little tongue is laved along it repeatedly. "don't- ohmfuck. okay, okay." he pants, fingers curling into his palms.

you need to stop before satoru shoves his entire cock down your throat without any care that you are gagging and choking on it. the gasp that leaves him is way too shaky. his tip goes past your face, it is over the crown of your head, it is too big for you. he is too big for you but he cannot not touch you.

he needs you like he needs air. he hums softly, he should stop you. he really should but he cannot when you are sucking at his balls. your little hands resting on his upper thighs and your mouth is draining him of any self preservation.

"you like it?" there is a sticky noise as your mouth pulls back, so much saliva on his skin. it is even webbed in your mouth.

"mm, you're so big toru." hearing those words in your soft voice makes his cock ache. he should not, he really should not but he needs to see it.

"keep that pretty baby mouth closed." he cups the back of your head, gripping his cock and squeezing it tightly before he presses it into your cheek. he curses, burning it into memory as he rubs his mushroom tip along your lips. his pre cum looks better than any lipgloss you own.

his fingers tangle in your hair to make you look up at him. having pretty little you, kneeling in nothing but laced panties chips away at satoru's restraint.

"want you to wrap your hand around it, can you do that for me?" you hum, when he lets go your fingers take his place. right around his base, your hand is so much smaller and so much softer. your fingers do not even reach around the perimeter of his cock.

his breaths are all laboured and hard, "don't put it in your mouth, just lick the head." his thumb strokes your cheek and you lean closer. your squirming slimy tongue trails over the slit and satoru throbs against the muscle.

"fuck, baby, you're so good at listening." he grips your hand to guide you up and down his length. "squeeze it a bit and move your hand like this." pre cum dribbles and he lets you do it on your own. it is jerky and unsure but somehow your hand feels so much better than his. he leans back on his arms, his hips moving slightly, his chest heaving and his dick begging for release.

"am i doing okay?" you mumble, begging for praise, feeling the ridges of his cock along your fingers while you slowly stroke up over his thick head and down his shaft.

the liquid seeping from his tip glides down along the sides and collects on your fingers, making it easier to jerk him off.

"more than okay, pretty girl. you're perfect." satoru's hand tangles in your pink sheets, the other reaching to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"faster?" you tilt your head, you are like a puppy. the cutest one ever.

"if you want." he grunts, when your hand starts pumping at his cock more, his eyes roll back. the muscles along his thighs flexing, all over his body in fact. he cannot help but fuck his hips upwards to meet your movements.

he is leaking incessantly, it coats your hand and it sounds all sticky and wet when you rub his cock. satoru curses, he feels like a virgin, maybe it was you, maybe it was your hand on him but it made his stomach all tight and his cock throb with no control.

you stroke at his base with a vigorous pace, your other hand surrounding his upper shaft and moving much slower. he jerks, teeth gritting when your tongue laves over the pinkness of his head before you take it in your mouth. it is so warm and wet, it makes him lose his mind.

your lips rest right before his shaft and the second you suck, satoru tightly grips the sheets, his head hanging and his jaw dropped to moan erotically.

"baby, baby what are you doing to me?" his unsteady palm caresses the crown of your head, petting you like the sight of his cock in your mouth does not tear him to bits. like it has not thrown him over the edge.

he wonders if you can feel him pulsing against your tongue. he wants to know what deeper in your little mouth would feel like wrapped around him.

"you're so fucking good, holy shit. never felt this good before." he groans and your eyes meet his, your wide innocent looking eyes despite how he has tainted you already. you look too pure for what you are doing.

"fuck m'gna cum. gna cum, take your mouth off baby." his hips stutter, muscles jumping. his toes curl into the fluffy mat beneath you both. you are still licking and wetly slurping around his head while you stroke his cock. the heated muscle of your tongue laving at his slit.

satoru's never came this quick before. his lids keep fluttering, he cannot stop groaning. his mind is too occupied with the thought of cumming in your mouth to stop you though he knows he should.

you keep touching and satoru has lost it already. he does not realise he is cumming in your little mouth until your hands have slowed down and you are teary eyed with milky liquid dripping down your jaw.

he curses. satoru is so sensitive and you are swallowing, why do you keep swallowing?

"baby, don't swallow. fuck, you don't have to." your hands shift to rest on his thighs, your brows furrowed and your little throat still bobbing.

you lean back and strands of cum are webbed in your mouth, still connected to his softening member. it drips onto the rug beneath you.

you sniffle, swallowing hard while you gaze up at him. your eyes are all glossy and pretty.

"i didn't think it would be that much." you are on your knees, right in front of him with your belly full of his cum, looking like the sweetest girl in the whole world.

you are his, you are all his. you have to be.

he cups either side of your face, leaning down to kiss you hard. he tilts his head, his tongue gliding over yours and the taste of his cum heavy in your mouth.

he reaches under your arms to lift you into his lap, nose nuzzling yours while he hugs you close. you are so much smaller you tuck right in along his large frame.

"i like you too much." he breathes into your shared air.

satoru cannot get enough of you.

[hanasnx]

“ DOESN’T ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SO BLACK AND WHITE ” — jason todd.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established toxic relationship ノ reader has long hair ノ drug use: roofie ノ pain: scraped knees and hands descrip ノ size difference ノ objectification ノ kidnapping ノ sexual assault mentioned but does not occur ノ sex toy mention ノ dumbification. NOTES: use caution when reading this if you’re sensitive to drug descriptions. no smut but i might make a part two if someone has a good idea for it.

You stumble—hard—landing onto your knees and the heels of your hand. They burn against the pavement. Your internal equilibrium decays with each passing second as your head spins on your neck. To combat the dizziness, you squeeze your eyes shut, and your shoulder collides with the asphalt. You’d fallen further, unable to keep yourself afloat as distant voices sharpen.

“Somebody get her up.” The harsh and irritated command is followed punctually by rough hands sweeping your arms out from under you, hoisting you up as your hair hangs forward. You gasp from the change in altitude, as if your lungs are contracting, but you know you’re still on ground level. Like a doll without a spine of its own, you allow strange men to lead you while your head lulls and bobs from their curt motions. A long lock of hair sets between your parted lips, caught on the latent moisture there. Your heartbeat settles in the sting of your scraped skin.

Another foreign sensation grips firmly onto your jaw, directing your fluid movements towards a being that comes into focus slowly. Blue, and bright, you flinch at it.

“Ah,” that same voice exclaims in frustration. It grates your ears, there’s some kind of static or digital interference to it that churns your stomach in this state. “You gave her too much. Look at her.”

“We didn’t have a choice, boss, honest!” the armored man to your left responds, and the one on your right is eager to chime in.

“Couldn’t take any chances, almost clawed my eyes out.”

“Little thing like her?” he—the boss—confirms, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say there’s an edge of pride to his reply. “Give her to me.” Your body jostles as you’re transferred from hold to hold, the hard and prickly surface of armor and fabric press flush to your front. An arm, thick and muscled, wraps around your waist, and you bend backward. Your gummy limbs can’t handle your own weight, so he handles it for you. His bicep strokes up the curve of your back, so you surge forward but he expertly avoids bumping you. Instead, he looks into your relaxed countenance. The stranger juts his chin at your display, and an uncharacteristically tender gloved hand hooks down your cheek to drag the lock of your hair out of your mouth. “Gave them a run for their money, didn’t’ya? Hm,” That chuckle makes you furrow your brows as it passes from his firm chest to yours.

He stoops, letting you fall over his shoulder, nestling it against your stomach, and lifting you. That same arm secures you by strapping over the backs of your knees. “Let’s go, boys. I wanna stay ahead of schedule.” he says, lumbering with you in hand. Unable to stay in control of your body, you fade in and out of consciousness as the surrounding—deafening—mechanical din scrapes your ears.

You start to lose track of time, you don’t know how long you’ve felt like this. Every so often you’re fed a liquid, or a familiar pair of fingers invasively shoves something down your throat. It keeps you pliant. The dosage is lowered enough, however, until you can stand on your own. Your eyes are blank and empty, your brain just as much, and you stand as still as a doll. The Arkham Knight, you’ve learned his name, commands anyone you’ve ever laid eyes on since your abduction. You’re not sure why you’re here, or why he brings you along everywhere he goes. If it’s to keep an eye on you because you’re a flight risk… you’re not sure that you’d be able to escape and live under these circumstances. However, thoughts of escaping at all rarely formulate past the initial fight or flight instinct your body reminds you that you have. “I should do something… I should do something…” it says.

But you don’t.

All this contemplation causes you to zone out, and your delicate sense of balance deteriorates. Without realizing, you sway, and your weight carries you away from your keeper. Unable to get your feet under you in time, your hair swings to one side, falling fast until abruptly you’re halted. A hand snatches your wrist, and an ache strikes your shoulder socket from the yank back up. You say nothing even when he catches you with his body, your heavy one colliding with his hard chest. You stay there for a while.

When you come back to, the atmosphere feels different. You’re not in some cavernous underground mall anymore, you’re in the small hallways of a makeshift headquarters. Each of your arms encircle the necks of militia that you can never recognize, “C’mon, kitty cat, the Knight wants you. Let’s go.” one says as he adjusts you higher up. The nickname sounds resentful on his tongue, perhaps he doesn’t like you very much or the fact he has to carry you.

“Any idea what he does with her?” the other questions, like you’re not listening—like you’re not even there.

“S’not for us to know.” the first responds.

The armed escort chimes from behind you, “Hey, maybe it’s some form of advanced interrogation. What if she’s got some info on the Bat? Or worse, maybe she’s with the Bat.”

“… Ew,”

“I don’t mean it like that—well, it could be. We don’t know.”

“The way the boss handles her, I don’t think she’s ‘with’ anyone else.”

“You don’t think… you’re not saying—“

“I’m not saying nothin’.”

“Are we seriously lugging around some guy’s sex doll—“

“Shut the fuck up.”

“I went to Princeton, I don’t need this shit—“

“I said, ‘shut the fuck up!’” he hisses the warning, and your heavy eyelids flutter closed.

“Hey—Hey.” You wake up to the sound, and to the light patting on your cheek. “You with me?” That digital voice recites a certain tenderness, speaking low so as to not startle you but with the firmness of a man who won’t let himself show vulnerability. You wince at the brightness of his mask through your closed lids, and the heat of his presence retreats at the sight of you coming to. “Say something.”

The first time you’re prompted to speak. “Water.” you choke out hoarsely. The first time you’ve spoken. He flicks his head in the direction of the exit to one of his subordinates who punctually retrieves you clean water in a little paper cup. It’s a fragile thing, crinkling under the slightest touch of your fingers as you clumsily raise it. To aid you, the Knight’s hand overlays yours to guide the rim to your mouth, and you drink. You didn’t realize just how thirsty you are, downing the contents in a feverish motion. He signals for another to be brought to you, and you pant hard, wiping the excess from your upper lip with the back of your hand.

Your gaze then sweeps and lingers on his puzzling grasp over yours. He notes that, retracting.

“The medic is on his way to check you out. I wanted a moment with you first.” he relays it to you like you’re another one of his employees, someone to be briefed and dismissed. You don’t say anything. His sidearm is in plain sight, and your cognitive ability is slowly regaining. You wish it hadn’t. The Knight leaves you to nervously fiddle with the tearing paper of your cup while he nears a clunky laptop. Graceful fingers clack a few keys, and you wonder if he's summoning the medic or delaying him. "Something on your mind?" His tone conveys a sense of knowing, but he's guarded.

You will yourself to be silent. There's no right move here, you have no information, no leverage. You can't threaten a man with this many resources. Your strength fails you, when was the last time you had a decent meal? He holds all the cards, so you try patience.

"Don't be shy." he goads playfully, and instead of putting you at ease, it frustrates you to be talked down to. You crush the paper cup in your lap. Observing your reactions, he reassesses his attitude. "You won't be hurt." He idles, but when you stubbornly refuse his generosity, his heavy boots thunder as he returns to your seat. A frightening hand reaches out and you flinch away.

"Don't touch me." you bite. That hand hovers an inch away from your upper arm.

"Sir?" the faint interruption of the medic causes you both to whip your heads in his direction.

"Get in here." The Knight barks, and he's prompt to obey the command, setting his equipment aside you as he fishes out his flashlight to check your pupils. Before you knew it, the Knight departs without you.

You're kept in his custody for days, and since the medic barred you from whatever they were drugging you with, you're sober. Somehow, you've picked up on information, but none that explains your being here. The Knight keeps you close, but talks to you as much as he did when you were practically comatose. When you try to refuse him, planting your feet, he treats you as he did before. Overpowering you, he yanks you to him as he stoops, connecting his shoulder to your stomach: a motion that knocks the wind out of you when he hoists you above the ground. Unlike a lifeless body, you kick out and scream, thrashing on him as he takes you where he wants you without your say.

It's a long battle, but he's chipping away at your resolve. He can tell you're ready for round two, that spitfire in you couldn't stay dormant for too long. Militia men have a lot more trouble bringing you to the cockpit of the HQ, dragging you as you fight them.

"I preferred her roofied." one jests, and it does not go unpunished. A shrill shriek emitting from you as you raise on the tips of your toes, loosening their hold for a precious second.

"Nice going, you idiot. What are we supposed to tell the boss if she makes a break for it and you let her go?"

Regardless of your efforts, you sit in front of the Arkham Knight again. Even though he's clad head to toe in armor, there's a smug air about him. "Knew you wouldn't shut up for long. You know, the guys told me when they apprehended you you put up a fight. Gunmen, and you tried to claw 'em. You know how stupid that was? You never did have the best head on your shoulders."

Your brows furrow.

It's quiet. The Knight knows he slipped up.

"Do we... know each other?" you ask.

[meanbossart]

A personal headcanon of mine is that Cazador had a special interest in Astarion before turning him into a vampire possibly a romantic obsession.

I was curious about what your personal thoughts were on the relationship between Cazador and Astarion?

Let me stop you right there - Yes.

Now, I'm a little reluctant to elaborate on this one, because I think it can be seen as a little reductive of the characters and their stories to condense what could be a political plot into something as superficial as another "if I can't have you, no one will" storyline - not only would that be less interesting to some people, but it once again reduces Astarion's character to his attractiveness - while the former, for once, actually made him "desirable" for his achievements and influence - even if it doomed him after all.

But at the same time, this theory compels me for that reason exactly. It sets the origins of the whole issue and what would, overtime, erupt into this complex he has of himself and how others perceive him.

I'm not a stickler for details as long as you can tell me a good story, but it's notable to me that the reasons why Cazador set his eyes on Astarion so early in his reign are never really elaborated on further. How much influence did he really have as a young magistrate, and what kind of rulings could he be passing that would affect Cazador so much for him to take such a risk in abducting someone of his standing right as he had himself come into power? Cazador is an idiot, but he's an idiot who managed to say alive and hidden for two centuries - this move was either exceptionally well thought-out, or Astarion wasn't that liked as a magistrate, or Cazador had far pettier motives to take such a risk.

Not to mention, Astarion is awfully elusive whenever you inquire about the hows and whys of his abduction. Dismissive, even. Like it's something he doesn't want to talk about. I could take that down the boring route and say "oh, the writers just didn't care to develop this part of his story", or I could do the far more fun thing and read into it.

Then, of course, there's the vague suggestions that Astarion stood out among the spawn for one reason or another - he's referred to as the runt of the litter, and yet as Cazador's favorite as well. Going through Cazador's journal following Astarion's disappearance, there seems to be something besides frustration about him leaving just as he's about to ascend - there's resentment, there's desperation. Why the fuck does Petras act as if Cazador would ever do anything good for them if they were treated as Astarion describes? How the fuck were any of them under the impression that this ritual would benefit them whatsoever, while Astarion seems to have always known better? While I have no doubt that they all suffered under Cazador's control, there seems to be indication that Astarion suffered specially badly. The question left is why.

I don't think they were ever lovers or anything like that, I don't think Astarion ever even knew Cazador well enough to give him a passing thought, but I think it would be absolutely rich for a newly born, still spite-fuelled vampire lord to make very emotionally-driven decisions. The type of decisions that he looks back on and curses himself for. For having ever had such a weak mind.

Think of it, you come into all this power after years of pain, sorrow and suffering. You set your hungry, lonely little eyes on the prettiest girl at the ball - she turns you down spectacularly. She laughs you off under thinly veiled pleasantries. You are beside yourself - you were supposed to have everything you ever wanted, to be untouchable, to be desirable, to have some sort of supernatural allure about yourself - you were under the impression that now, all of your problems had been solved and everything that life has to offer would be thrown at your feet, like you perceived it to be like to your own, deceased masted; then the rug gets ripped from under your feet. But, a moment after, you realize: when you want something very badly, you can now just take it.

So you do. You get a shiny new toy. Fresh off your dull, painful past-experiences it seems like this toy is all you need to bring the long-lost zest back into your life, it is your first taste of true power and control, your dear beloved, your reluctant companion, and you paint a picture of what life will be alongside it (though slightly stooped beneath you - you can't be equals, of course) decades, no, centuries into the future.

But the toy doesn't ever grow to like you. In fact, it hates you for what you are, what you chose to become and what you chose to make of, and to it. For a few years, you try. Then eventually you get bored of it.

In a few more, you begin to not be able to stand the sight of it. It reminds you of a time when you were naive, when you were stupid. Worse yet, it is now your ball and chain as you made it. The only use you see remaining for it is to tear it apart again and again and again until you've forgotten why you're even doing it. You don't even want to touch it yourself, you get others to do it for you.

I don't think Cazador harbored anything but that indifferent resentment towards Astarion through the vast majority of those two centuries, and, horrifically enough, I don't think Astarion even knew why for a good deal of it himself. I can picture him going over and over any passing interactions they ever had (if they even had any) desperately trying to piece together why me, what could I have done differently, how could I have avoided this hell.

Then, at some point, in the brief moments when his mind is somewhat cleared and after he has heard enough vague, cryptic remarks out of Cazador's mouth about his looks, about his attitude, about how he must think he's too good to do what he does, it hits him: If I had just said yes, none of this would have happened. It would have been a brief moment of disgust, but then it would have been over.

And you beat yourself over it almost much as you feel shame. You're embarrassed. Because you've now had to endure all this torment just because you said no to the wrong man - a matter of picking the bad choice at 50/50 odds. Not only that - but you were apparently so worthless to the world that this small mistake was enough to doom you for all eternity: It was, apparently, all you were worth. And he has made that abundantly clear by what he puts you up to now.

So, when someone asks you why it happened, you give them a better reason. One that at least highlights other things you were good at. They probably wouldn't believe you if you told them the truth, anyways.

[beejunos]

UNKNOWN TO ME AND YOU | Alastor x reader | PART 2

Summary: After your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby, will you be able to mend your relationship?

This is PART 2. Part 1 can be found here.

This is the continuation of @lustylita's wonderful idea, which can be found here. I just had the pleasure of writing it. I hope you enjoy the end of our little story!

Tags: Alastor x gn.reader, some angst

The relationship between you and Alastor had taken a sharp turn for the worse. What used to be a strained but neutral relationship was now strained, uncomfortable, and awkward at best. You found yourself doing everything in your power to avoid him whenever possible.

Each time you and Alastor coincided in a room, a surge of panic would engulf you. The urgency to escape the impending unbearable awkwardness was so tangible it left a metallic taste in your mouth. You would hastily concoct an excuse, no matter how feeble, to flee the scene. The same sense of panic would grip you if he happened to enter a room you were already in.

As you made your hasty retreat, you made a point to never meet his gaze. You were acutely aware that if you did, you would be confronted with the pained expression on his face behind the mask he liked to present to the world, a sight that would be unbearable. Despite Alastor's adeptness at concealing his emotions, you could now sense his anguish from the shadow he cast.

It was something you never anticipated. You never thought you'd harbour any kind of affection towards the man. Yet, after the end of your relationship with Alastor's Shadow, it felt like going through a tumultuous breakup with him. The pain of it all left you feeling raw, vulnerable, and insecure as if a part of you had been stripped bare of dignity and reason. You were left feeling smaller than you really were, with a heavy weight on your shoulders that dragged you down. As if everything was your fault. 

But you had never known about Alastor's feelings for you. You didn't even know when his affection for you had begun and why he had buried them so deep within his heart that his shadow had to break free to soothe its ache. Only when his shadow broke free did you realise the extent of his emotions and how deep they ran.

The days felt like they had grown longer and lost all their colour without the presence of Alastor's shadow. Hollow and lifeless. Whilst you could argue all you wanted with yourself that it was the shadow that you wanted and not the man, the reality was that the shadow was the man. 

They were not separate. They were one.

To love one was to love the other. 

What ... love?!

Pain can be subjective, just like any emotion, but that does not diminish its impact on one's life. The heart will make itself known to the mind whether the mind wants to know or not, but sooner or later, the heart will make the mind yield to the pain, the longing, and the wanting just to get a moment of peace. 

And that's where you were right now, at the door where your heart had broken down, letting the reality of your emotions spill at your feet. A door it begged you to walk through, but you were scared. You were a coward. For Alastor saw you through his darkness, his shadow, and you saw him through his. 

To knock or not to knock. That is the question.  

It had been 23 days since your altercation with Alastor in the hotel lobby. When he had branded you with a kiss that still burned. Marking you with a curse that tore your heart out and poisoned your mind. Longing for the time when it had been just you and Alastor's shadow, but now all your memories of the shadows had been replaced with the man himself. Giving you a genuine smile that only your eyes were allowed to see. To be given the privilege, the trust, to see him. To see the man and not the sinner. To see the soul and not the demon.

Everyone longs for love, no matter what form love comes in, longing for companionship. Trust. Strong arms to fall into with hands that could hold us up when our legs can't bear the burden anymore. And you knew that Alastor could be the arms you wished to fall into, but did he still want to fall into yours?  

To knock or not to knock. That is the question.

The door to Alastors room felt like the doors to an impenetrable fortress. A domain that used to reek of him but now lured you with promises you longed for but feared as well. 

With your crossword puzzle in hand, you counted down from five to zero before lifting your shaking fist and knocking on the door softly. A part of you hoped that he wasn't there so you could run back down to the lobby and forget that you had ever had this stupid idea. The idea of mending your relationship. 

However, you were not so lucky, for Alastor soon opened the door. His smile twitched as his eyes fixed on you, and if you weren't imagining things, you thought you heard a soft chirping sound behind him.

"Yes?" Those were the first words he had uttered to you in 23 days. The only words you had allowed him to say to you in 23 days. 

Swalloing the stone in your throat, you let out in a rushed ramble:

"Canyouhelpmewithmycrossword?"

"I'm sorry?"  

"My crossword," you said, trying not to have a shaky voice, "can you help me with a clue? I can't figure it out."

You held out your newspaper with the crossword to him, pointing at the specific clue you had in mind. In reality, you had already figured it out 30 minutes ago, but Alastor didn't need to know that. He looked from you down to the newspaper, then back up at you again. His eyebrow raised. 

"Very well," was all he said as he looked down at the newspaper and the clue again, but by bending down, you now had his head right beside yours. You wondered if his big ears meant he could hear better and if he could hear your heart trying to beat out of your chest. Could he hear how it called out to him? How it had howled at your mind to let him back into your life again.

"The answer is Erato, the muse," answered Alastor and straightened up again.

"Oh, right. That makes sense," and that was when you remembered that Erato wasn't just any muse, but a muse whose name meant desire, and never had you desired for the smallest of touch from another before. Looking down at his lips, so red and soft, knowing what they had felt like on your cheek but maybe never getting the chance to touch them again was torture. 

"Was there anything else?"

Like a record scratch, you were hurled back into reality, looking back up at Alastor, who was studying you intensely. This is where your mind won over your heart, and you became a coward again. 

"No! Thank you for the help!" you practically screamed as you stiffly stormed down the hallway, away from the sinner who closed the door to his domain, and you wondered if it was painful to die. 

Work was slowly killing you, and it was not a pleasurable experience. Buried in paperwork, you had been staring at a document for the past half hour without really taking in the information. No matter how many times you would re-read the document, the words made less sense as you kept reading. Blurring together in one big mess that drained you of all your energy, the clock had not even struck 09:00 yet. 

Overwhelmed, you buried your face in your hands, your body leaning on the desk for support. You wondered how you were going to make it through the day if it continued at this excruciatingly slow pace. 

After a slight knocking, the door swung open, and someone entered your office. 

"Not now, Charlie," you said softly so as not to offend without looking up, "I told you I'm fine. I don't need you to check on me." 

However, no answer came, and when you looked up, you realised that it wasn't Charlie who had come knocking at your door again but Alastor, who was holding your favourite cup in his hand and a bag in the other.  

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you," you said and began to stand up, but you slowly dropped down when Alastor walked over to your desk and sat down your cup. The smell of coffee filled your office and the mere thought of having that sweet beverage filled you with delight. Beside the cup, Alastor put down the brown bag he had held, and you instantly recognised the logo of the bakery from across town that you loved so much. 

As you looked at the bag, you felt a sudden jolt of surprise that made your body shake. You raised your gaze to Alastor, who was standing in front of you, and then back to the bag. You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading through you as you thought about the blueberry muffin that was waiting inside. It was such a simple thing, but it made you feel wanted. What a wonder that such a small thing could make you feel so special and warm on the inside. 

That warmth was something you hadn't felt in a long time. Ever since Alastor's shadow stopped visiting your office, you had felt incredibly lonely. You missed the little conversations you used to have with him and the way he always seemed to know just what to do to make you feel better. You even found it hard to go to the bakery and get your muffin in the morning because it made you feel too alone for your liking.

But now, as you had the bag in front of you, you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things were finally starting to look up again. Maybe Alastor was back in your life for good, and you could once again look forward to those little moments of happiness that made your day a little brighter. 

"I... thank you, Alastor. I greatly appreciate it." Your heart skipped a beat when Alastor looked down at you and gave you a small, genuine smile. 

"You're welcome, my dear," he said softly as he turned to leave your office. His demeanour was calm and collected, yet you could sense a certain warmth and friendliness in his voice.

"Have you seen the roses yet?" the words rushed out of you before you could hold yourself back, too desperate for his company now that you had gotten it back. 

"Pardon?" asked Alastor without turning around to look at you fully. His hands were resting on his microphone cane. 

"The roses, in the garden. They've bloomed, almost all of them. They're... they're breathtaking. You should see them." Your knee started to nervously bounce under your desk as sweat began to gather in your palms. The man had managed to render you a nervous wreck so fast, his presence alone stirring up a whirlwind of emotions within you. 

"No, I haven't seen them yet. I'll make sure to walk around the garden on my break today. I can imagine that they are lovely." 

Thinking this was the end of the conversation, you turned back to your dreadfully dull documents.

"Would you care to join me?" asked Alastor, his soft yet hesitant voice making your heart skip a beat. It was as if the air around you had suddenly become charged with an unspoken tension, making you wonder if he was nervous as well.  

"In the garden?"

"Yes." 

"I... I would love to." 

"Wonderful. I'll come to get you around twelve if that works for you."

"Great! I look forward to it."

As he walked out, you couldn't help but sit back in your chair and take a deep breath. You felt a sense of relief and contentment, knowing that Alastor still seemed to want to try a new connection—something new and unexplored. You picked up your coffee and took a sip, letting the warmth of the liquid spread through your body. Alastor had managed to wake the butterflies within you again with a single act of kindness.  

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­Your and Alastor's relationship had improved immensely over the week. However, there was just this little problem that kept bugging you. Alastor had not touched you in any way, not even laid his hand on your shoulder or offered his arm when the both of you had walked through the rose garden. While this wasn't uncommon, you rarely saw him really touch anyone in the hotel except for the odd pat on the head, but his shadow had been so physically affectionate that you yearned for the intimacy of it all. 

While not overly affectionate, the shadow had not hesitated to hold your hand or rest on your shoulders. It wasn't that you wanted to carry Alastor on your back, but the simple act of holding hands seemed like a distant dream. 

You sank deeper into the sofa in the hotel lobby as you glanced at the deer demon sitting by the fireplace above your newspaper—your crossword puzzle long forgotten. Alastor was sitting cross-legged with a book in one hand and a glass of rye whisky in the other, silently humming to the song he played from the antique radio he had summoned, and for some reason, you thought that he had never looked more attractive.

Satan's sweaty balls, you used to party every weekend and only come home after you had tried every type of alcohol the club had to offer, and now you were in love with a sinner whose favourite pastime was listening to jazz while drinking whisky. Your younger self would have hated what you had become, but in the present, you felt a deep sense of contentment, wanting nothing more than to have a quiet evening with Alastor, where he would read out loud to you from his book in front of the fire with your head in his lap, listening to jazz.

Angel Dust shouted a loud good night and started to walk up the stairs to his room after another hour had passed. Charlie and Vaggie, who had been sitting by the dining table and doing a jigsaw puzzle, were the next ones who left the lobby. Charlie's good night was barely audible because of how much she was yawning. The last one to leave the lobby was Husk, who you knew stayed longer than he usually did just so he could keep an eye on you. You quickly shot him a meaningful glaze, trying to tell him that everything was fine, which he seemed to understand. 

"Night," grunted Husk as he started to walk up the stairs. 

"Good night, Husk!" you shouted back, grateful that you and Alastor had some more time alone. That is if you actually dared to do anything. 

The chance to change the mood was almost too good, too romantic for you to think clearly. There were so many possibilities as to what you could do. You could ask him about his day, but that felt too predictable. You could ask him about his book, but what if the book is boring and you can't make the conversation sexy? Would he even like that? He was flirty in a very subtle and charming way, but would he like it if you took a more direct approach? 

Without knowing it, you had spent all your time thinking of all the things you could do with Alastor now that you were alone with him that you completely lost track of time. It wasn't until he closed his book and stood up that you were pulled away from your thoughts back into the present. 

"Well, it is getting quite late. Sweet dreams, my dear." 

Panicking again like he so often made you do, you blurted out the first thing you could think of to make him stay. 

"Do you know the dance foxtrot?" You fucking idiot, of all the things you could have asked, why did you ask that?!

Alastor turned to you while raising a brow, and even if he looked at you with a curious gaze, you could not help but feel like the biggest fool in all of Hell. You used to be smooth when flirting and look at yourself now.

"I do. Why do you ask, my dear?" 

There was no backing down anymore, so you took a deep breath, cheeks and ears burning, and confessed;

"I've always wanted to try it! I've seen others dancing it, I even know the moves, but I've never had anyone to dance with." 

In the blink of an eye, the music on the radio changed from a soft and slow jazz song to one with a more precise and faster beat. Alastor bent down and left his book on his chair before he walked over to you. 

"May I have this dance?" he asked with a mischievous smile. 

Not caring anymore about dialling down your excitement, you gave him the biggest smile as you took his hand. Letting him pull you off the sofa. His hand was warm and soft, sending tingles up your arm as he gently stroked his thumb over your knuckles. 

As Alastor pulled you towards him, he quickly established that he would lead the dance. With your hand on his shoulder and his between your shoulder blades, he pushed you into the first step of the foxtrot. The rhythm of the music began to take over, and he started to spin you around the empty hotel lobby. You couldn't help but laugh, feeling the wind rushing against your skin as you twirled around and around. 

As he spun you, his red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. You felt like the only person in the world as you looked deep into each other's eyes, lost in the moment. It was a look you didn't see often, but sometimes, when it was only you and him, you could catch a glimpse of a softer look from Alastor. A look that made the butterflies in your stomach make loops in excitement. It was a look that made you feel cherished and admired, and it was a feeling unlike any other. 

The dance seemed to last forever, and you didn't want it to end. You felt free and alive, and you knew that this was a moment that you would never forget. 

When the song came to an end, a new song began directly after it. This one is slower than its predecessor, one that you couldn't necessarily dance the foxtrot to, for it was a song that called for a type of slow dancing. 

Without hesitation, Alastor pulled you closer towards him as his hand moved from between your shoulder blades down your back. Leaving a trail of fire under your skin as his hand pulled you closer to him after it stopped in the middle of your back. 

None of you said anything but continued slowly dancing to the music on the radio. His red eyes, heavy-lidded, looked deep into yours as he slowly dipped down and kissed your lips.

Happy 'burn a big ass bonfire so the witches who are flying to the devil's party fly into the bonfire instead' day, everyone! (If you can guess which country I'm from, from that, I'll be really impressed)

Taglist for the part 2: @littledolly2345 @slytherin4ever @wendds @beelz3bub @adamwarlockislife-blog

@ilikemyteawithmilk @cherry-cola-100 @xia21 @rae-pottah @xsoftdead18

@arrozyfrijoles23 @maulsgf

[sunnyferr]

A polyamorous relationship with them!

Op men!: kid/killer zoro/sanji law/luffy

WARNING: ReaderF! Polyamorous relationship NSFW, Contains homosexual relationships between characters!

Kid/Killer

It's the most fun relationship you can have!

kid is your partner in pranks and dirty jokes, always up to mischief around the ship

but if you like quiet chats with a coffee, killer will always be there to listen to you, he's really good at listening and giving objective opinions

I remind you, they are very big, so their group hugs completely crush you.

I feel like killer is more into hugs, hugging you from behind and being there almost all the time.

kid is more into kisses, messy kisses with tongue in the middle, with his hands roaming all over your body

It's very sweet to see them share little kisses between the two

Sleeping with them is also a comical experience

I remind you for the second time, they each take up a king-size bed.

so you sleep on kid's chest face down, while kid holds you by the waist with one hand, and the other arm around killer (nice mental image)

sex with them is something wild and rough

Usually, the sessions last between 3 or 4 HOURS (a fallen soldier)

Kid always takes the lead, he's a dominant, and you're not going to take his place

killer, to be honest, is kind of the same, he can be sub or dom (although he does like being dom a bit)

Kid usually lets killer play with you while he's in the corner of the room, watching everything.

killer tends to praise you while biting and licking every inch of your skin

kid is more into saying things like "you little slut! do you like what killer is doing to your pussy, huh?"

the aftercare is very tender and sweet, well, kid tries to stay awake, as he usually falls asleep after 5 minutes.

killer is more about bringing you water and snacks if it was a long session, preparing a shower for all three (obviously having to drag kid into the shower)

sanji/zoro

These two always seem to be arguing

like a couple who have been married for 50 years.

But they do love each other for real…just that it's a bit hard for them to admit it.

Usually, your time with Sanji is on some island, buying food (which was the main mission), but he ends up getting distracted by looking at dresses in the shop windows, saying you have to try them on RIGHT NOW.

On the other hand, Zoro loves it when you join him in his 30-minute naps while you're together hugging. He says it's cheesy and silly to be like that, but deep down, he loves it. Sometimes Sanji joins in (just because you told him to).

Sanji is always touching you (holding your hand, your waist, brushing your hair, etc.) because he can't stand being away from you. Even if you're right beside him, he always has to have you close!

Zoro is a bit calmer with that, but there are times he likes to tease Sanji, grabbing you by the waist and carrying you on his shoulder away from the cook.

But they also show affection to each other…giving each other little love pecks when you're not looking…and sometimes it escalates to something more.

Sleeping with them is a bit tricky (usually, Zoro is busy at night taking care of the ship, but let's pretend they almost always sleep together).

Usually, Sanji loves being in front of you and Zoro hugging you from behind, but problems arise when it's midnight…

It's a constant push and pull!

Sex is really exciting.

The rounds last for 2 hours (which is not short) but…

they leave you stargazing for hours!

Imagine leaning on the table, sharpening Zoro's sword and having a full view of your backside, while he hits your sweet spot

and meanwhile, Sanji is below, licking and sucking your clit while pleasuring himself

simply glorious

Sanji tends to be very loud, moaning and shouting Zoro's and your name

Zoro is more of a grunter and curses under his breath, but the occasional moan escapes him

The aftercare involves Sanji preparing some tea or some ointment to soothe any pains or discomfort, while Zoro pampers you with small kisses on your head until Sanji arrives and they nap together for a while

Law/luffy

A very complementary relationship!

Luffy is like a little kid, you have to keep up with his mischief ALL THE TIME!

but it's really fun to follow him and play some pranks on Law, even though he might get mad afterwards and not talk to us for hours (it was worth it)

Luffy loves hugs! he's always with his arms stretched out hugging you and giving you uncontrollable kisses all over your face

Law is a bit more shy, especially in public, he'll shake your hand and that's it, but when they get home he tends to pamper them a lot.

Law really likes it when you two are in his room while he studies or works, seeing you cuddled up on the couch while you caress a nearly asleep Luffy, is something he loves about you

Sleeping with Law is not a problem… Luffy is

he tends to fall off the bed ALL the time, so now Luffy sleeps in the middle, lying on his back while you hug and kiss him

they don't usually have sex much… but it's still very rewarding

it usually lasts between 2 to 3 hours

Law is a fan of BDSM (NO ONE WILL MAKE ME THINK OTHERWISE) and SUB/DOM games

Luffy and you are the submissives, trying to please Law in various ways possible so he gives you your well-deserved "rewards"

An important detail is that Luffy is very inexperienced at first but gradually learns more, to the point where he'll try to be dominant with you (only sometimes)

They usually end up with a lot of moans and screams of passion among the three.

post-care is very important to Law!

he makes sure they've had enough water and gives massages in a specific place if they're in pain.

he would punish Luffy if he left too many hickeys (even if he did too) because it could be "dangerous"

but in the end, it always ends up being a good nap with lots of hugs and kisses (and Luffy's snoring)

[p3terparker]

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: leon is too shy to make a move on you

𝘄/𝗰: 0.7k

𝗮/𝗻: this is my first leon fic and i haven’t written in months so please be nice to me 😭 i hope you guys enjoy!! ♡

it’s no secret leon is shy. ever since the beginning of your relationship– which was months ago– you were always the one to initiate things between you two, not just sexually. he was too shy even to hold your hand or start a cuddle session. you don’t mind that; in fact, you even find it quite cute how he starts to blush when you do something as simple as kissing him on his cheek, but sometimes you don’t always want to be the one to make a move, which is why you had completely deprived him of any physical touch.

you can tell he’s bothered. he’s been staring at you as soon as you two sat on the couch together and put on your guy’s favorite TV show. he not so subtly coughs to get your attention too, but you choose to ignore that as you hold back a giggle. it’s obvious he wants to cuddle, but you’re not going to give him what he wants unless he does it himself.

as the show progresses to the next episode, you finally decide to speak up after feeling his eyes on you throughout the entirety of the first episode.

“you need something leon?” you ask while looking away from the TV you were watching.

“w-what? oh um, no. why do you ask?” he stumbles over his words as a slight blush creeps over his face.

“because you’ve been staring at me ever since you got home” you giggle

“oh.. sorry” he murmurs out timidly while finally looking away from your face and towards the TV.

that was the last thing that was said before the next episode started and you were engulfed in the show you were watching again.

it didn’t take long for his attention to fall back onto you, staring at you in disbelief because you’re not giving him what he wants. it’s killing you inside to not just wrap yourself in his arms, but you have to stand strong. you continue watching your show for another 15 minutes before leon finally reaches his breaking point.

“why are you doing this to me?”

you pause the show and get a good look at his face. he has a small pout and a look of sadness painted all over his face which causes you to feel a twinge of pain in your chest.

“doing what?”

“ignoring me”

“i’m not–”

“yes you are. you didn’t give me a hug or kiss when i got home and now you’re not cuddling with me like you always do” he cuts you off and lets the words pour out frustratedly.

you kind of feel bad but at the same time can’t help yourself from laughing at how frustrated he is over an issue he could’ve avoided by just making a move on you.

“you know you could’ve kissed me and cuddled me yourself, right?”

now he’s silent because you just called him out.

“yeah but… i don’t know how” he timidly says.

“what do you mean you don’t know how?”

“you make me nervous. you’re my first relationship and i don’t know how to initiate anything between us without making things awkward” he quietly states, barely able to make eye contact with you.

“aww leon, come here” you say while finally embracing him. you can feel the tension release from his body as soon as he lays his head on your chest.

“you could never make things awkward between us leon. and as for me making you nervous, do you know how nervous you make me? like seriously, you’re insanely hot and also have the sweetest personality ever”

“stoppp” he whines but gives you a look that tells you he secretly loves what you’re saying.

“alright alright, but i'm serious leon. nothing you say or do could make things awkward between us. you don’t know how much i want you to initiate something for once, i’m tired of practically wearing the pants in our relationship” you laugh while semi-joking.

you don’t know if it’s the entirety of the little speech you gave him or the comment about you wearing the pants in your relationship that caused a change in his demeanor, but suddenly he flipped your position to where he has you pinned beneath him on the couch and passionately kissed you.

“who’s wearing the pants now?”

[meerash]

BSD Man finding out you are having pre period cramps

Part 1 (I'll do Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi tomorrow)

Fukuzawa

"You all are dismissed. You can go home now" the president says after a long meeting that went on hours, it was for the protection of the some minister that you could focus on because your periods were near and oh god, does it hurts? Sitting for so long had made your back hurt like a bitch but there's nothing you can do.

You gather your file and make a move towards the exit before The president's voice cuts in your ears, "—not you, please visit me in the office"

His voices comes out as no nonsense, Yosano looks at you in sympathy but doesn't do anything. You hold a groan in your throat before following him in the office, all while hearing the office clear itself out.

"Yes, sir?" You ask him once he closes the door and sits on his chair. You notice how his silver hair are back to their usual length, he must have gotten a haircut, you note to yourself.

"You couldn't focus on the meeting today, what is it?" He asked, now that you are alone his voice is a little softer than before.

"I..." You scratch the back of your neck, you don't know how to approach that subject, "... It's just I had cramps." You speak finally, hoping not to sound embarrassed which you really were if the red tint on your cheeks was any evident.

Upon hearing your reason, The president's eyebrows comes together and he asks in a concerning voice, "Are you on your periods? You know we have monthly leaves for females for that"

"No, no, no" you try to correct him at once, "it's more of pre periods cramps" you wave your hands around like when you are trying to explain something complicated but doesn't have the write words, "it means that my periods will arrive in a day or two, kind of like warming flags."

"Oh..." He speaks after a while, "Are you okay now, how bad is the pain?"

You bring your finger and thumb together, almost touching but few millimetres apart, and a soft chuckle erupts from his mouth. all the seriousness gone, replaced with your favourite sound in the world, his laughter.

"Come here" he orders you and you follow him, standing before his chair that he has twirled in your direction.

"I said—" he pats his thighs, "—come here" and it was clear now that you were blushing.

Subconsciously your eyes went to the door, checking if it was really closed, before you hissed in embarrassment at him, "fukuzawa"

The man pulled you on his lap in answer, twisting your body around so that your back was faced with his chest, his hands glides on your waist, holding you steady "what, my lover?" He asked you, rubbing his thumbs on your lower back, massaging your pain.

A relived sigh involuntary leaves your mouth, at the relaxation you found by his big hands. If there is anything this man knew, it was how to give the best massage. You lean back in his chest as he continues massaging your waist.

His hot breath, tickles your ear, sending shivers on your spine when he sweetly whispers, "does it help?" and you reply in almost a begging whimper, "yes, it does."

"You know what else helps with cramps?" He asked in the sweet, calm voice of his.

"What?"

"Physical Intimacy"

Your face snaps at him, eyes wide open as you realize what he has suggested. It wasn't like you guys didn't had sex but in your relationship, it's always you who initiates or little subtle hints.

"Should we go home?" He asked you again, ofcourse he will ask you. He is the man of consent, he even asked you, if he can pet your cat which you thought was incredibly sweet.

"I... uh... Please?" You said finally, sex with fukuzawa isn't you'll ever miss, no chance in hell.

He picks you up in bridal style at once, opening the door, all while you were in his arms. You faces resting in the crook of his collarbone. Everyone else had already left or you'll never try this stunt. Nobody knows about your relationship in the Agency... Except Ranpo, who treats you like his mother despite being the same age and it's not like you don't spoil him like your own baby.

Ranpo

You were currently handling the police reports and case files of Ranpo's recent case. Sure, Ranpo solves almost case in minutes but that's all his does, you have to handle all his paperworks, which was increasing day by day now for he solves too many cases.

You look at the bundle of reports on your bed and sigh to yourself, not only does the lightening suck here but you can also hear the singing of Dazai from the next room. The walls of the dorm rooms were relatively on the thinner side. After putting on your headphones, you begin to work. Not half an hour, a sharp pain shoots in your lower abdomen making you double over in pain. You look towards the calendar and realise your date is almost here, a low gutteral sounds escapes your mouth.

"Couldn't have choosen better timing" you mutter to yourself, there are atleast three files pending for tomorrow.

You get up and look for some painkillers and realise you are out of them.

good thing the doctor lives next door to me, you think to yourself, making your mind to going to Yosano and asking her for some pills.

Before you can take a step in that direction, the gate slides open to reveal the greatest detective of the world in his pajamas, holding a bag, most likely snacks, you think to yourself.

"What is it?" You asked him, it came out a bit softer than you intended as if you body doesn't want to hurt the boys feeling, fuck this body, you think again.

"I missed you" he pouts in your direction, for the lack of better reaction, "The greatest detective comes at your door and you treat him in this way?"

"I'm sorry, My Greatest Detective but I am a bit busy and a bit in pain, maybe next time?" You plead in his direction, you don't time for this today, there are too many things to be done.

He huffs out, "I already know that, if I didn't, would I be the greatest detective in the world?"

A quizzical expression obscure your face, you tilt your head towards him, what in the world does he mean?

He rolls his eyes at your expression, "do i have to hold your hand and walk you through everything? I know that you have too many files to do, and you are having your pre periods cramps, and that you are out of pain killers and you gave your hot water bottle to kyouka few days ago, so you don't even have that, and your mood is a little sour which is why i am not minding that you didn't kissed me the moment i walked in"

He speaks like he is listing off things from a script, you didn't know wheather to laugh or cry. If he knows that everything sucks them why is he here to torment me?

He walks towards you, a lollipop in his mouth, he always have sweets in his mouth that's why you make him visit to dentist twice more than usual people.

"I got you yours things" He helds up the bag you thought holds his snack, instead when he empties it on the bed, they are just pain killers, a hot water bottle, and a box of tampon. I look at him but again before i could mutter anything, "you'll run out of your tampons on third day, for future"

"...thanks" you finally speak, in the slightest chance of hope, it hasn't occurred to you that Ranpo will ever use his detective skills like that but then again if you had thought about it, the reason yosano always had everything when you were on periods even before you two started dating was him. It was sure he liked to boast about things but his first priority has always been you, since thr day he saw you in the supermarket listening to kid with such intensity as if he was talking about something phenomenal when in reality he was just talking about his favourite cartoon. It was the same intensity of attention you flourished on him when you worked under his command (he begged fukuzawa to hire you, he already knew you will be a great worker)

"Now go to bed, Your great boyfriend will take care of everything" he hushes you, forcing you on the bed.

"But i have re—" you protest, but he cuts you off, "I know, I'll take care of it." He raises his brows and you know there's no fighting him now, not with that resolution.

Soon he hands you the painkiller with hot water and worked beside you as you rested. He had placed all the files on his lap, supporting the material with a pillow, working his way with one hand and the another roams through your hair, lulling you in sweet sleep.

You were almost asleep when he was finished with those reports. He placed them on your bedside table, cuddling next to you. You look up at his face which was centimetres away from your lips, his sea green eyes were looking in your direction with a love that no one had ever seen.

A soft smiles follows on his lips after you place a kiss on his jawline, he tilts your face upward with his chin,"tell me, darling. Am I the greatest?"

You wanted to roll your eyes at him but the sleepiness was too heavy, so you settle for the quite mutter of "yes, yes you are the greatest detective in the world."

"i mean the greatest boyfriend, my silly, who cares about the detective stuff." He whispers holding you closer. Even in your sleepy state, the words run a shock through your body, a blush crept up on your cheeks, you spoke only two words as you buried your face in his chest, "the best."

[cepheustarot]

What does fate have in store for you in the near future?

Attention! This reading is for entertainment purposes only. This tarot reading does not give a 100% guarantee that all the described situations will occur or being ultimate truth. You build your own life and destiny and only you know yourself best.

Paid readings

Pick a pile. Choose one or more pictures. Trust your intuition.

Pile 1: Here fate will arrange for you to meet a person. It will be an unexpected meeting for you, since a person will literally appear suddenly out of nowhere but from the first days you will feel a strong connection with them, you will get very close to this person, you will open your soul to them, as they will open theirs to you, in general, emotional and personal conversations will be involved here. By themself the person is calm, perhaps they are not very emotional and in some places can behave as if they do not care but in fact it is not so! Person is very sensitive, prone to empathy, they are a good listener and you can say they generally like to listen more than talk. They may also be well versed in psychology or something similar, may have a lot of experience in terms of relationships between people. And although a person is very sensitive, still relies on logic and common sense, not allowing emotions to take over. In general fate organized this meeting for you to help you succeed in some area (mostly in terms of studies, finances, work) or if you had problems then they will help you solve them. It is also necessary for you to find support in it since now you may be in limbo and feel unstable or you constantly have situations that unsettle you.

Pile 2: As I see it this option could be chosen by those who do not feel very well morally, you feel exhausted or you have been depressed lately, you may feel very tired, burnout, stress and all that sort of thing. You may also miss a lot of privacy, being alone and you may feel a lot of pressure from your family or people around you. Here you might not find the opportunity to relax or generally forget to rest because you were immersed in some kind of activity. So here fate, roughly speaking, will "force you" to take a break, perhaps your plans will be interrupted and you will be forced to spend time with yourself. Perhaps your loved ones will leave for other cities, places or will be too busy to meet you or vice versa you will have to leave for some reason.

Pile 3: Here fate will give you a choice that cannot be abandoned, where there will be no third option and you will have to choose from what you have. In particular this choice is associated with some person dear to you, with whom you have known for a long time, communicate closely and in general you can have a very strong connection. It can be your close friend, your lover, your colleague, your partner with whom you work, etc. In particular here you will have to make a choice to continue communicating with this person or not, since your relationship has reached some kind of dead end and is not developing in any way, you may not feel the same warmth on his part, the same interest and it may seem to you that this person has changed. This choice is a turning point in your life or on your life path but in any case, thanks to this situation, you will be able to gain wisdom, become stronger, more experienced — in any case, all this will only be a plus for you even if it is hard or painful at the beginning, then everything will bear fruit in the end.

Thank you for reading! I will be glad of any feedback 🖤

[save-the-villainous-cat]

The hero let out a wet groan, pushing themselves up as the blood ran down their side. It was in itself a funny feeling.

It was a good feeling.

Absolutely no one in this rotten city was able to challenge them. Physically, they were stronger. Mentally, they were quicker. And their dedication, their devotion was like a holy prayer that guided them through their nights.

The hero knew it wasn't a good thing - the longing for a challenge, the desire for an opponent that could actually make them a better fighter. It was a dangerous wish and they had to remind themselves regularly why they were doing this job in the first place.

To do good. To be good. Not to find someone who was their very own nemesis.

However, with the villain's boot on their ribs and that brutal nature of theirs, the hero was struggling not to find this utterly satisactory.

"Yeah, right there," the hero wheezed. "Make me scream."

The villain tilted their head and tutted, nearly bored of the hero's games. They let out a sigh and grabbed the hero's hair, yanking them up.

Another wheeze.

And the villain crouched, holding the hero by their hair. Very close. Very intimate.

"Do you think I am stupid?" the villain asked. Their lips brushed the hero's ear and despite the pain, or maybe because of it, the hero could only concentrate on the adrenaline rushing through their body.

"No," the hero said. They had to grin. Sometimes, they wished they could devour the villain, that they could change them and ultimately, that they could control them.

The hero knew it wasn't right. They knew it wasn't good. But they had never felt this kind of obsession towards anyone. In previous relationships, they hadn't gotten jealous, they hadn't gotten angry. They had never struggled like this. They had never doubted themselves like this.

"I know your dirty little secret," the villain said. "I know you like me. You like this."

"I didn't try to hide it," the hero said.

"Not from me. But the public."

"What are you trying to...?"

"Oh, poor hero," the villain murmed. "See, the difference between you and me is, that I do not care about you. If this gets to one, just one flimsy reporter, the people will turn against you. I can ruin your entire career. Your entire life."

The hero had miscalculated. Obviously, they hadn't expected their nemesis to feel the same. But they also hadn't expected them to tell the public. To use the public against the hero. It was a little shameless. But the hero was even more disgusted by their admiration for it.

"So?" the hero asked. Losing the public was a detrimental loss, that much was clear. But was it even measurable next to the fights with the villain? Did it even matter? When the hero could feel this euphoric? This alive? When had the public ever made them feel that way? "I would still have you."

"I do not love you," the villain argued. "You're not as important to me as you think."

"Give it some time," the hero said. "You will love me, don't worry. Everyone does."

The villain simply laughed at that. It was nearly soft. Or maybe the hero wanted it to be. It didn't matter.

"I have to admit, I am quite interested in what you have in store for me. How will you act once the public calls you a traitor? What will you do when I refuse to fight you? You are-" with their index finger, the villain traced the hero's thoat "-so very unique."

"Is that attraction?"

"Obligatory interest."

"And you say you're not in love."

They stared at each other until, finally, the villain dropped them. They cleared their throat and tilted their head. But the hero swallowed blood when their head nearly smashed against the concrete floor.

"I like toying with you, that is all."

"Sure," the hero said. They clutched their heart, tried to breathe. Being close to the villain was a gift, no matter how much it hurt. The hero loved it, loved their words, loved their personality, loved the challenge. It was insane, the hero felt completely deranged. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

And the hero was excited. So very excited for the next weeks.

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞voicemails with chan after an argument

✰ genre : angst, romance and fluff in between

✰ pairings : bf!chan x fem!reader

✰ word count : 0.8k+ words

CHAN | minho | changbin | hyunjin | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

one 𖨂

hey, my beautiful girl. how are you? it’s not the same without you by my side. the house looks wrecked and so am i. i am so so sorry baby for snapping at you last night. i. . . didn’t mean it. i swear. it all happened because of me and my work, and i do accept that. just come back please? i know you’re at your friend’s house but i won’t force you. ever. i just hope we can talk this out thoroughly. please? i love you very much. always know that, yeah? and i’m only a call away if you need me. good night.

two 𖨂

so i didn’t receive an answer back. does that mean you’re going to stay there for a while? alright, i respect your decisions. i always do. you know that right? anyway, today sucked. i kind of twisted my ankle while practising and i tripped over a charger and hurt my chin. it sounds painful but it was even more painful when you don’t reply to my messages, or to my calls and even my voicemails. i fucked up and i know that very well. i may sound selfish but i want you with me. i need you when i wake up and when i sleep. i want to see your face when you smile at me. how long has it been since i last saw you? over 2 weeks i suppose? if you’re listening to my voicemails, let’s meet tomorrow at our usual spot. at 3 i’ll be there. i’ll wait for you even if it takes forever.

three 𖨂

you eventually did show up. to be honest, i was surprised. i didn’t expect you to show up. but i’m glad you did. but i’m not very glad that you almost didn’t speak any other words except for ‘i need time’ and ‘alright’. it was pretty sad. then i realised how bad i must’ve hurt you for you to act this way. and i’ll say sorry a million times if you want me to. i regret ever letting you walk away like that. if only i had tried harder in our relationship we wouldn’t be at this stage where we’re unaware whether we’re together or not. i regret not understanding you earlier and spending my days at the company, rather than with you. i even started taking time out to come home early, at 8. just like you wanted. i even began sleeping on time, but i can’t help myself to fall asleep that easily without thinking how lonely you used to feel when i wasn’t here to hold you or to even talk to you. i regret everything, baby. i really do. i hope you’re happy, not skipping your meals and sleeping for good hours.

four 𖨂

i noticed something fall out of your wardrobe, and even though i respect your privacy, i couldn’t help myself. it was a letter. a letter presumably you wanted to give me, but you couldn’t. and it would be a lie if said i didn’t sit on the floor crying as i read the letter over and over till i had it memorised. you always wanted to write me letters didn’t you? what more do you have up your sleeve? how long are you going to keep impressing me and making my heart flutter like that? you might think i’m being a little too extra today, but it’s true! you can’t just go away after making me fall that deep for you. it’s been three weeks now. how long am i going to be punished? just answer me once. please.

five 𖨂

when i tell you i almost fell off the couch, you won’t believe me. but i almost didn’t believe my eyes when i saw your voicemail. why would you ever be sorry baby? you have all the right to be angry at me. i deserve it. but don’t think you did anything wrong. you just did what you thought was right. and sometimes, it’s better that way you know? like if you wouldn’t have gone away i would just return to my schedule again. i wouldn’t have realised where i was wrong. so don’t blame yourself, okay? as i said before, i’ll wait.

six 𖨂

so this is gonna be the end of all the angsty voicemails as you just called me saying you’ll be coming home tonight. i’ll prepare a welcome dinner for you along with some kisses if you would like. and hugs too perhaps? i am just on my way to clean the house and myself too. since i didn’t shower today, so i’ll see you in about 8 hours. i’m very happy that you’re coming back babe. i love you so much. and i, thank you, for giving me a second chance. i’ll be waiting for you, my love.

[shirefantasies]

Congratulations on 100 followers! 👏 🎉 🥳

This kind of a weird request but I wanted to ask how you would imagine the Fellowship would react/take care of their companion on their period? Like having severe cramps. It can be romantic or platonic relationship it's up to you but I would like Boromir to be romantic.Just lots of fluff basically.🤗

I just really enjoy reading how my favorite characters would take care of me when I'm in pain.😅

Thank you 🥰 oh same because I get reallllly bad period symptoms unless I take my supplements long enough before (and sometimes anyway 😣) so I adore being taken care of by my blorbos 🥺 doing everyone because I wanna write this with Faramir & write some wlw fluff 🥰

LoTR Characters When You’re on Your Period (F!Reader)

Warnings: small blood/pain mentions, a suggestive joke

Aragorn

✧ Your exchange is wordless; Aragorn sees the way you jolt at a sudden shock of pain, catches your eyes and gives you an inquisitive nod. You nod back and that is that, no questions asked.

✧ If you are traveling, your pace slows and Aragorn will hear no two words about it. He allows more breaks, hunts twice as hard, directs you to the softest place to sit and just gives the others firm looks if they try to give complaint.

✧ “Please,” he’ll urge you gently, taking your hand in his, “try to eat something. You’ll need your strength.” Just the sound of his voice, the care therein, practically brings tears to your eyes.

✧ Honestly, it takes a lot for him to suppress his laughter if you snap at one of the others, at least when your outburst is warranted. Glance over and you might catch him giving them an ‘I warned you’ look.

✧ Takes on more fights for you, bidding you to stand back and let him take care of things for once.

Legolas

✧ Perplexed but very concerned when he comes upon the sight of you sprawled out with a grimace of pain across your beautiful face. His first motion is to help you up, secondly asking what ails you. While he looks at you like he does not understand, his actions suggest otherwise.

✧ Every month he learns to follow it, the moon his reminder, and every month Legolas silently begins his gathering. Your favorite tea? Check. Your comfort item? Perfectly clean and ready to hand off. Your bedding? Also perfectly clean and assembled just how you like it. Even Legolas’s words are softer, more understanding in case of sudden complaint or upset.

✧ “It’s like you know what I want before I want it.” “Knowing you,” Legolas replies with a smile, “is my greatest joy.”

✧ Good luck trying to stand on your own; Legolas all but hovers around you, offering a hand whenever you attempt to rise.

✧ He becomes extra protective, taking hold of you by the waist at the first sound or sight of danger, lest anything make it worse.

Boromir

✧ All but bursts into your room the moment he hears that you are bedridden, rushing to take your hand and ask you what has happened in a whisper you can’t help a faint chuckle at before you explain.

✧ Taken visibly aback, Boromir then shakily asks what he can do, smiling when you tell him just to stay with you. “Pretend it’s a wound from some great battle,” you joke. “Oh, indeed,” he agrees before you two begin coming up with more and more ridiculous fights and scrapes you got into, Boromir’s thumb drawing circles over the back of your hand.

✧ He offers to try rubbing where it hurts, applying faint warm pressure over where your lower half is assaulting you. “How is this, my love?”

✧ Uses you having any difficulty with walking as an excuse to pick you up and carry you on his back.

✧ Does your washing up, partially just to prove your teasing about him not being brave enough wrong! He is a warrior, after all.

Gimli

✧ The others alert Gimli in a hiss after he less-than-tactfully panics that you’ve been hurt, sending his lips pursing into a shocked ‘o’ and his gaze sliding back to your stooped form.

✧ “Oh, er, well there lassie, if you need anything at all you know who to call for.” “Well,” you groan, “if you’ve any spare rags I’ll gladly take them.” “Rags? What would you want with…oh. Oh.” “Scared of a little blood, Gimli?” “No, not I,” Gimli replies despite his shaken expression, “I’m so used to the stuff by now, what’s the trouble?”

✧ Insistent as he is that dwarves are the best carers of their women, Gimli quickly works to prove his point and, in his words, win your heart with the lot of it. You’re skeptical when you see him sticking rocks in the fire, but at the end of the day the warmth is heaven upon your aching body and Gimli looks just as pleased as you feel.

✧ He probably also recommends you a strong drink under the claim that it eases pain like nothing else. Whether this is helpful or not is up to you.

✧ Goes surprisingly soft when you curl up, still facing wave after wave of cramps. Reaches over to you and strokes your hair, sitting at your side looking for all the world like a guard dog.

Frodo

✧ Your pain is interrupted by a gasp that has you looking up, meeting Frodo’s wide blue eyes glistening with concern at your sudden jerk. Familiar as Frodo is with pain, he recognizes your motion without a single question.

✧ Urges you to sit or lie still, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head like punctuation.

✧ While you rest up, Frodo tells you stories, stories of his uncle Bilbo’s adventures, tales from the days of the elves, anything to send you to a different place then you currently must be in.

✧ Offers you extra blankets or his cloak if you’re feeling cold or in need of comfort.

✧ Shy as he can be, in your time of need his hands hardly leave your shoulders or your side, quite protective even if he is smaller than you.

Sam

✧ “Whoa, easy there,” Sam tells you as he sits you down, “what happened?” Poor thing thinks you got some bad news or something the way you’re tearing up.

✧ Holds you close to his chest as you let the tears flow, shaking his head when you start to tell him it’s stupid, you’re just in pain and upset. “Can’t think of any more reasonable reasons to cry. Don’t worry, just let it all out.”

✧ Such a sweetheart, he won’t leave your side for hardly anything….except to go pick you some flowers to raise your spirits, of course!

✧ Flushes a bit at the suggestion, but one hundred percent helps you undress and change into more comfortable clothes. Even if he tries to look shyly away as much as possible.

✧ Definitely cooks you something hearty and nutritious, encouraging you to eat even just a little bit. Sam will even hand feed you spoonfuls if you’re feeling bad enough.

Merry

✧ “Oh, yeah, I know all about that!” “You do?” “Sure, I saw what my father did for Mum, after all. Come here.”

✧ Apparently what Mr. Brandybuck did for the missus was to build her the most massive nest of pillows known to Hobbit-kind. “And what’s she do in here?” You ask, waving a hand feebly over your new home. “Well, not sure what they did after that but I think I’ve heard of a way to lessen the pain.” Whether that works or earns him a smack you can decide.

✧ From your pillow pile you become queen of, well, Merry at least, though he puts on an act of being scared of displeasing you at first. You can’t help laughing as he kneels before you, asking what snacks you request or if you’d like some water.

✧ Meriadoc “chugs respecting women juice” Brandybuck has silently vowed to never once make any ill jokes at your expense. No asking if it’s your time if you express any emotion he doesn’t, no teasing you for needing help, no acting like said help is too gross for him, ever.

✧ That being said, he even does your washing up for you!

Pippin

✧ Definitely more the type to fret and worry, hands going to your back as you double over and he asks what’s wrong, are you hurt? Whether your words are sheepish or unabashed, you tell him it’s your womanly cycle and Pippin’s eyes practically pop out of his lovely little head. “O-oh. What should I do?”

✧ His cluelessness is actually perfect for the situation because he truly will do anything you say will help, whether it’s bottling up some hot water, fetching you your favorite snacks, making you tea, even singing you a song if you tell him it’ll raise your spirits.

✧ His absolute favorite thing to do, though, is offer company, tumbling onto the bed with you and chatting the afternoon away.

✧ This quickly evolves, though, and soon Pippin is holding you for dear life, an arm wrapped around the front of you where he draws warm, gentle circles lightly over your pain.

✧ “This isn’t so bad, is it?” You swat him for that, but in spite of yourself cuddle closer and join his sheepish laughter.

Faramir

✧ No questions asked, Faramir is by your side stroking your hair and getting it out of your face if it falls so.

✧ Musing over the strength it takes to fight such internal battles, he cradles you in his arms or, if you prefer not to be touched, holds your hand as he sits at your side.

✧ Well-read as Faramir is, some pain remedies swim to the forefront of his mind and he goes off to seek them.

✧ When you lie down, he tucks you in so softly, that sparkle in his eyes you love so much twinkling just for you. “This will pass,” he whispers.

✧ Blames himself if you get upset sometimes, but is reassured and happy again when you tell him he need never pull away from you.

Eomer

✧ Confused, frankly, at why you suddenly can’t walk, for he cannot conceive of a reason until you admit this is unfortunately quite normal for you.

✧ Asks you why, frowns in greater confusion and sympathy when you say you do not know, acts a little bit uncomfortable about details but still sets out to aid.

✧ Too uncomfortable to ask his sister, he opts instead to seek out a healer and practically demand anything that helps with a woman’s “well, time.” He’s getting the spirit slowly but surely, alright?

✧ Bursts into your room with an armful of everything the healer has, ready to brainstorm solutions to have you right again. You can’t help but chuckle at the whirlwind you’ve just gone through all over some cramps.

✧ He gets quite restless until you call him to your side, asking him to quit fretting and just lay with you. “Ah, that I can do,” he says with a grin.

Haldir

✧ Haldir’s steady expression drops when he learns of your ailment. Everything else he is holding or doing drops as soon as possible, too, and he is going to you.

✧ Taken aback at the sight of you, he realizes he did not know a woman’s cycle could take such a toll as to leave you bedridden. He isn’t used to seeing you so weak and is ready to do what it takes to end it.

✧ He has all these wonderful scented oils, some of which help you sleep, some of which he uses to massage you and hopefully numb the pain.

✧ In addition, he guides your breathing through waves of the ache, looking to the breeze and the rhythms around you to help you relax your body that much more.

✧ Haldir is hesitant to show you excess affection, but if you request it, his arms snake around your waist and he holds you there, both of him breathing you in like you’re all he needs and vice versa.

Eowyn

✧ “Sit down, please, I insist.” As much as Eowyn herself is the type to trudge forth through pain or fear, she would never impose the same upon you, instead tending so gently to you.

✧ Hot water always helps her, so she fetches you some as well as a treat from a baker she passed by, taking your hand after she hands it off.

✧ You had best believe this woman will tell anyone in the whole of Middle Earth to leave you alone as you rest, be they her own kin or the host of the dark lord himself.

✧ As you spend more time together, the old adage about ‘synchronizing’ seems to ring true with you both. Eowyn does not mind, honestly, because you bear the pain together and spend much time together in bed. Not the most ideal of circumstances, but if she can lay in the warmth of your arms Eowyn is a happy woman indeed.

✧ She insists so much upon your care, though, that you’ll practically have to wrestle her down so you can reciprocate…not that she minds that, either!

Arwen

✧ Who better to understand what you are going through? Her brows knit at the first sign of discomfort from you, recognizing the signs immediately.

✧ Without a word Arwen is finding out exactly what you tend to prefer- do you get nauseous and seek relief? Do you desire more sustenance and company or less?

✧ During times when you find yourself more stressed or upset than average, Arwen gives you so much grace, running her hand soothingly down your arm and reminding you all weights feel heavier right now.

✧ For all your pain, there is little bliss like being in the arms of your beloved, her soothing deep whispers brushing your ear.

✧ The most patient if you’re forced to wake up frequently in the night and rise, laying there with nothing but love in her eyes as you return.

Elrond

✧ Wise lord and healer as he is, Elrond is more than familiar with the ailments of women. In fact, he is the sort to track it for you as best as he can. So when he sees you feeling ill, sympathy crosses his serene features but no surprise.

✧ Elrond knows every remedy in the book, so he’s quickly making you some calming tea and sitting you down for some TLC.

✧ Very encouraging for you to take time for yourself and make sure you stay nourished, even if that is difficult. There is no shame in keeping your strength up, after all.

✧ Walks with you just a little ways behind, a hand resting comfortingly upon the small of your back.

✧ Sends cover for you where you are needed, no questions asked, because you are more important than tasks others can perform.

Lindir

✧ Practically trips and falls over himself running to you at your sudden shock of pain, dark eyes wide at the way you folded. You seem embarrassed to tell him and while he feels squeamish at first, that is quickly shaken off as he urges you to sit down.

✧ From that moment on Lindir has dubbed himself your personal nursemaid, naught but the call of Lord Elrond himself taking him from his work.

✧ “No, no, lie back down, I can get it,” he holds out a cautious, almost panicked hand when you wince and sit up, “what is it?”

✧ Sings you songs of all kinds, old tales, his own compositions, and of course your requests, again and again if you ask them of him. His harp is ready to gently play you to sleep or just to keep your mind off the pain you feel.

✧ When you wake up in the night, at first he looks frustrated, but that melts away quickly as your eyes meet, apology shining in your gaze. Instead, Lindir helps you up and sings you to sleep again upon your return.

[newnlovesjennie]

op hcs: how they propose

luffy:

he’d do it completely spontaneously; in the middle of a dinner between you two, a stargazing session, literally anything

“hey, we’re gettin’ married, aren’t we? once i become pirate king?” he’d casually drop, making you spit out your drink

of course, there’s nothing you’d want more than to have luffy be your husband, but you’d expected a little more preparation then this

but you’d agree and promise, letting the notion of being married go since the journey to finding the one piece still has a long way to go

until your feet are engrossed in the sand of laughtale, staring at the shore ahead of you when luffy surprises you from behind, gripping your shoulders with pure amusement and pride

“this means we’re officially married, right? you get to be my wife!” he’d laugh, and a part of you doesn’t have the heart to tell him about weddings or marriage certificates and all that nonsense, because you’re intertwined with the man you call your husband right now, and that’s all that matters

sanji:

he’d been dropping hints about getting married throughout your relationship, but they were mere fantasies or jokes, in reality, he was pretty anxious about the whole ordeal

(i mean, he’s already had a wedding before, and we know how that went….)

a part of him still thinks the entire situation is too good to be true, it’s too impossible for someone as perfect as you to want to be with him, let alone forever. he’s sure you just want something casual, something temporary, and though it breaks him, he’ll tolerate it, for you

though, then he hears you comment about how big the kitchen should be in your shared future home, or if it’s okay if you can plant a garden in the backyard? you’ll smile while passing by wedding dress shops, and your fingertips will linger around sanji’s ring finger, which he always keeps vacant, a homage to his adoration for you

these little victories will give sanji the confidence he needs to actually propose, which he does, in the aftermath of the grand party the crew hosts once they reach laughtale

rose petals surround you, scented candles are lit, and sanji is down on a knee with a beautiful ring in his hand, with a look in his eyes not driven by lust, by want, but instead a look of pure warmth, fondness. it’s no surprise you say yes.

zoro:

not to be that person, but zoro feels like the kind of person to find marriage and proposals too old fashioned

he already loves you and you already love him, and he ensures that love is properly painted so the whole world can see just how much you mean to him. so what could two rings change?

he doesn’t understand why girlfriend and wife must hold different weights, when both should mean the same thing, devotion, but he sees how much it means to you, so he proposes immediately after the crew finds the one piece

“shit, was it supposed to be all fancy n’ stuff? i should’ve brought a bouquet of flowers or somethin’…”

you know your boyfriend, sorry, fiancé can be a bit rough on the edges, but his utmost loyalty for you will never change.

usopp:

similarly to sanji, dude would be freaked out of his fucking mind

he envisioned a life with you since the day you two met, he just shoved that fantasy deep into his brain as something as improbable as luffy refusing meat

call him stalkerish, but he’d sketch your future house well before you two began dating

usopp wasn’t the kind of person to engage in flings, frankly, his heart can’t handle it. the moment he got with you he prayed and hoped it would last forever, since he had already pledged his heart to you long before, and detaching it would be a painful process

thankfully, you reciprocated, to his surprise, and wanted to spend your life with him just as he did with you

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine Zhongli who was cursed to die by the hands of the one he loved the most.

Imagine Zhongli who was bound by the curse for almost hundreds of thousands of years finally came across the hands of his supposed to be beloved. Staring at the small child in front of him as he thrust a dagger in their hand before casually guiding them to thrust it on his chest. "Are you seriously about to traumatised this child? Mor- Zhongli" "I just wanted to get over it. You can always erase their memory afterwards." Without any second thoughts, he held those small hands tighter and trust it into his chest and as he felt his chest burned and ache, he looked down and met with a pair of terrified, shaking and tearful (eye color) iris. He was just so tired.

Imagine Zhongli whom after thousands of years waiting for his demise woke up with a bandage chest throbbing in pain but could not do anything about it. He was pretty sure they were- you were the destined person he was bound to be kill with, so what went wrong? Did he missed something? Nevertheless, after that day, he never saw that little child again nor did he even try to find them ever again, what was the point when it clearly did not work? Maybe it was his curse to actually live for eternity without ever finding some sort of peace and rest for himself.

Imagine time has always been kind to Zhongli. His old but never ending youth makes him wonder if he would ever be like those friends and foe he had once came across with. But was time passed by and anything changed but himself, he gave up on that fact. He had always hated the fact that he had to watch people come and go in his life. It was inevitable, he who seemed to be lucky-cursed of time, never really got the chance to actually grow up.

Imagine, it's not like Zhongli has never loved someone before. Out of all his countless years of life long journey, he had gone through different love, heartbreaks and goodbye. He had experience watching his loved one die, be it war or something else. He have been in a relationship before. He had loved someone already, he had gone through series of hello and goodbye. In some cases, he wondered and curse why should be this one his beloved, the one he was destine to die in their hands with. Why. Why does he have to experience countless heartbreak and misery enough for him to get his long awared peace and rest. There must be something wrong with the curse.

Imagine, years later. Events long forgotten in each other mind. Zhongli have come across an individual. One he was quite annoyed with actually. He knew it was a coincidence. Deep inside he knew it was fate working there way into the two of you. But he was tired. He had already long accepted the fact that he was bound to live on forever. That his curse will infact go on forever and ever. But honestly, that did not stop himself for falling for you.

Imagine, as cliche as it may sound. You were different. You were... you. And with you, he can be himself, the one he was before the curse, before everything. For once, around you it felt like the clock that had long stopped working finally moved its gears again. For once, Zhongli felt like he could finally grow up.

Imagine, the more he spends time with you. The more Zhongli realize that it was you he was bound to be with. The same hair, same eyes, although you go by another name right now. He was pretty sure it was you. And it scares him the more he found himself falling for you.

Imagine Zhongli who was cursed to die by the hands of the one he loved the most.

Imagine Zhongli who was eager to end it all, tired of all the millennia that has passed as well as the past he had left behind. Zhongli who was tired of being the unchanging one, stuck on time and could not move on. He who thought he had given all the love he could give only to realize there was more that he could give. Who admitted to himself that this one, with you was different. Back then maybe he was eager to get rid of it all, calling it love when it was barely that, eager to get rid of the curse.

Imagine Zhongli whom realize as time passed by that afterlife couldn't be the only thing that give him peace and rest. That he could also find it on person, with you. He found the rest and peace he has always been looking for. At the same time, he became aware of what the future holds for both of you.

"I'm sorry." You cried. Hands around his wound but it was not helping, he was not healing and he was already losing a lot of blood. "I'm sorry if only I was a little stronger-" "Hush my dear. It's okay." That only made you cried even more, leaning into his already cooling hands as he reach out to wise away your tears. "My dear, my love. Do me a favor, can you?" "Morax- Zhongli- I can'-" "If I'm going to die-" "no, no! No!-" "I want you to be the one to do it, my dearest."

Imagine the way his hands dropped and place it gently on your hands. Holding into it as he squeeze it gently. His other free hand comes a dagger, a dagger so familiar you felt like you have seen it before. "If I'm going to die, dying by your hand would be the greatest honor."

Imagine as soon as he said that, something clicked as if the last piece of puzzle has been put into place and suddly, everything make sense. It was all on him in the end. He would be the cost and reason for your suffering.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

:Bruh, what the hell happened in here. I have no idea. Mababaliw na ko sa ojt + classes till 7pm. Ang mahalaga ay buhay, it's good to be alive still.

:also, quick kudos to this prompt for giving me idea ever since like, a day ago.

[cyb3rtarot]

Pick a Pile: Message From Your Inner Child + How You Can Nurture Them

Disclaimers: choose the pile you feel intuitively drawn to; you can choose more than one! Take what already resonates and leave anything confusing or stressful. Readings are not replacements for professional advice. I used a mix of tarot, oracle, and my intuition.

pile 1->pile 2

pile 3->pile 4

░░░

Pile 1

Message [Justice||nine of hearts rx, king of pentacles, nine of wands rx, three of pentacles rx]: hi pile one! Your inner child wants to express feelings of dissatisfaction or being stifled. Many of you are in a good place financially/with work, at least compared to where you used to be. This came from working very hard without much support from others—maybe even being hindered by others. Other people might look at your life and wish they had it, but your inner child does not seem fulfilled by whatever your position is. I don’t sense ungratefulness, but it does seem like your inner child is more interested in something “deeper” or more meaningful than your physical reality is providing. If you’ve had to claw your way out of hard situations, your inner child seems to be looking for some kind of justice or retribution regarding that. You may feel like you deserve more happiness after what you’ve had to go through, or want people who have done you wrong to be punished.

How you can nurture your inner child [the fool, the emperor, king of pentacles rx, three of swords rx]: a more proactive approach to finding meaning and happiness in your life will nurture your inner child. You might be used to going with the flow—especially if you’re materially comfortable or seeking such a lifestyle. Remember that you have the power to initiate new beginnings; you don’t have to stay the same! Give your inner child space to grow and discover what feels right to them, even if it doesn’t make sense to others. Don’t force yourself to remain in an unhappy spot when there are changes within your grasp. Uncertainty is a necessary part of life. There’s also a big emphasis on balancing your work for outer stability with this search for inner happiness; perhaps some of you unnecessarily overwork yourselves which leaves little time for other things. 

For some, this soul searching may involve letting go of past hurts. I’m not trying to force you to forgive others, but to identify how your current reality has formed as a response to pain, and how you can choose to respond differently.

Extra details: isolation, loneliness. Past betrayals and enemies. Being “self made,” supporting oneself. Not being seen and understood, wearing a facade/mask. Music as solace, singing, pop stars (Ariana Grande again lol?). Balance. Being the tough kid, defending yourself. Paying your own way through school. Aggressiveness. Continuous conflict with colleagues or family, unhappiness at work. Wanting to leave a “good” job, or wanting to “run away” (some of you may be daydreaming about “drastic” action, like suddenly quitting and going on a long trip, far away from everyone you know).

░░░

Pile 2

Message [the star rx, seven of wands rx|| nine of swords, the star, four of pentacles rx]: hi pile two! There is a lot of past hurt and trauma in this pile, and your inner child is highly encouraging healing/shadow work. Your inner child is wanting you to lower some of those internal walls so those uncomfortable emotions and memories can be processed. If you feel you need someone like a professional to help you, that is absolutely okay. Healing is hard, trauma is messy, and the “despair” in this pile seems particularly heavy.

How you can nurture your inner child [two of hearts, the tower rx, queen of pentacles rx, the lovers, six of cups rx]: a major focus for your healing journey is examining how past hurts—especially in relationships or childhood—are projected onto present day relationships. You may have developed certain traits or behaviors to survive the past, but now they block you from experiencing the intimacy your inner child craves. This is not to say you should compromise boundaries, but know that intimacy and vulnerability themselves are not the enemy. Thinking or acting like they are can even be a way of self-blaming, as if you not needing love would have prevented others from being toxic or abusers. Examine how past patterns can lead to current self-sabotaging, and also give yourself grace if you feel like you made a mistake. Learning how to navigate relationships of any kind is hard, and trauma can make it harder! Know your inner insecurities are not reflective of the relationship, how others see you, or the truth. If you do wish to work on some aspect of yourself or your healing journey, it’s very much within your capacity.

Extra details: fruit is significant, maybe nostalgic memories of someone cutting or giving you fruit growing up? A house with a tile or distinctive roof, roof decorations. The quiet/shy kid. Feeling like you’re falling apart. Clumsiness. Alone. A lot of yelling and hurtful words (particularly in the past). Childhood or domestic trauma. Catastrophizing. I feel like a lot of you are in a romantic relationship that is triggering anxiety. Practicing healthy communication with your partner may be one part of the healing work mentioned above. I also feel like a lot of you jumped from a very toxic home into a very toxic relationship as you came of age; a current relationship may be difficult due to this pattern that developed.

░░░

Pile 3

Message [ the hermit, the fool rx|| Queen of cups, the chariot, justice rx, ten of pentacles rx, the hanged man rx, the tower]: hi pile 3, your inner child had a lot to say! You might repress them a lot. They want you to know you are living with old mindsets and approaches that are no longer aligned with you. You have a very large inner, emotional world and self awareness, but you don’t let this shine through to the outside. There’s a big nihilistic vibe of just going through the motions and accepting your lot—even when you’re miserable—and even when there’s changes you can make. An imbalance exists between the energy directed towards your mind versus the outside world. There’s a sense of solitude and a “what’s the point?” approach. However, there’s also a sense of restlessness. Your inner child is feeling stifled by this lifestyle; they want to come out and experience enthusiasm! It seems major changes are present or coming in where this can be addressed.

How you can nurture your inner child [the lovers rx, king of swords, knight of wands rx, the emperor rx]: your inner child is encouraging you to embrace excitement for life. It feels like your nihilistic or apathetic approach functions as self-punishment by denying your desires. You’re aware of which things are not working for you anymore, but you’re avoiding tough conversations or decisions. Your inner child wants to break free and to go after what gives them joy; they do not want their emotions to be judged, repressed, or punished. Some of the self awareness you’ve developed in your inner world can be used to help navigate the disappointments and uncertainties of life. You have to wade past these things to reach the treasures in your journey.

Extra details: restlessness, emo (some of you were in middle school), quiet, hurting, simmering anger, Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day, taking an analytical approach to emotions, singing, not being allowed to express emotions growing up. You might say “perhaps” a lot. Water, wanting to live in or visit a location close to water.

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Pile 4

Message [seven of wands rx, king of hearts, the hermit, strength rx, queen of swords|| queen of pentacles, queen of cups rx, five of cups rx, death rx]: hello pile four! The focus of your message is healing vulnerability. You guys have had to be strong by yourself for a long time. For those working on spirituality, it feels like that was the focus of this period. This “hardened” time can come to a close and give way to a new era where you’re more able to face feelings and express them authentically. Your inner child is pointing to a past experience (or multiple) you can revisit to do healing work. This may be a very disappointing heartbreak in a past relationship (of any kind). You might have had to end it with someone who was very attached to you and make that first “hurtful” move so you both could move on and heal. Or, you became disillusioned from lack of emotional fulfillment. Most of you have already done a lot of healing/shadow work and reached a more stable place with your inner sense of security. But, there’s difficulty translating this into being vulnerable with others. Due to the amount of emotional work you had to do, you’re leaning into logic and practicality when there needs to be a balance with emotion. Maybe you can easily identify and scrutinize emotions, but you default to this mental approach to avoid actually feeling it or confronting what you’ve repressed—especially if others’ reactions to your emotions have been disappointing. Protecting yourself is necessary and so is analyzing emotion. But sometimes feelings just need to pass through! We can only “think” our way so far into understanding life lessons. Vulnerability with ourselves—and knowing healthy ways to be vulnerable with others—are both healing.

How you can nurture your inner child [the hierophant rx, king of wands, princess of wands, page of cups rx, the devil rx]: you’ve done a lot of  self-discovery and learning lessons on purpose. This has made space for beautiful growth—however, there’s an emphasis on being open to developing with other people, too. You may want to continue working on yourself in isolation, but some growth and self-knowledge can only be discovered through others. You may repress your inner child’s desire for connection—forcing yourself to be independent. This seems comfortable for you, but not necessarily fulfilling. You may not know where to start with allowing others inside your world. This pile is stuck in the middle of not wanting to deal with toxic BS and yearning for something new + authentic. You may really have to push yourself to leave your comfort zone when it comes to others, and remember that your past experiences don’t define every experience you could have. I’m not suggesting to do things that feel wrong to you, but I am suggesting to notice where you squash your curiosity towards others as a defense mechanism. If you remain true to the things you’ve learned during this time, you’ll be much more adept at spotting insincere people and setting boundaries. And, you’ll be equipped for the inevitable challenges that occur when we get closer to others. These aren’t necessarily bad challenges, but for someone who has learned to love being alone, the metaphorical social “dance” can seem daunting. People are lessons, but not everyone is going to be a hard lesson.

Extra details [TW abuse, self harm, suicide mention]: using spirituality as a reason to not feel (example, not letting yourself feel disappointed because “that’s how it was meant to be”), likes to rhyme or make puns a lot, tendency towards being nonchalant/apathetic, trying to “think” emotions away, not knowing how to stop being so independent. Spiritual, wise, eccentric/enigmatic, self-assured. “Nice” relationships but very few “deep” relationships. Wanting to be friendly but getting alarmed when someone want to be friendly back lol. May have been in a relationship with a very imbalanced power dynamic; someone may have had the power to punish you? In & out the hospital as a child or a very big medical incident. Working in medical (specifically getting nursing) or as a coach, trainer. Surgeries & surgical scars (especially emergency surgery to save your life), medical implants & devices, physically disabled. SH scars. Past attempt on one’s life. Unwilling to feel emotion in fear of getting swept away by them. Stoic on the outside, emotional inside. Always trying to “solve” your emotions

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[l4long-winded]

so, i received the following comment on archive:

"it went from sweet, to sensual, to smut in just one short chapter. which i love.

"i like to think that carmen is an acts of service kind of dude, he expresses his affections through things like making meals for reader. i think it’d be cute if reader like forgot they're lunch at home or smth, and then carmen would deliver it to them in person–just a cute lil thought." - topostapocalyptic

so, here is my version of that. i tried so hard and i just can't look at it any longer!

o.s. basil, monterey jack, and the simplicity of a kind gesture

summary: you're late for work, rushing out the door, and carmen notices you've left your lunch behind. he can't help but interject his talents (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)

reflection: this took me so. so. embarrassingly long. i am not super proud of it. i feel like i needed to finish it in order to get out of my current rut in writing, though. i finished school up and graduated recently, on a lighter note! please enjoy and feedback is always appreciated!

warnings: stress, worrying, temper flares, cursing, shirtless!carmy, established relationship, journalist!reader, commentary on nutrition, poor eating habits, inner dialogue (just a little), nature's own slander, anxiety depictions, original characters, moody!reader, some longwinded descriptions (as always), awkwardness, fluff, kissing, carmen's nervous tick, domesticity, implied (like one or two instances) smut, humor, an act of service, laughing while kissing, a small flashback, no use of pronouns for reader (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)

word count: 3,207

( this work has been cross-posted to ao3 )

“Stupid shithead,” you mutter.

You’re frantically grabbing items into your hands. Your keys, your purse, the wallet that goes into the purse, your phone. Anything covering the counter. It’s the same counter your knee knocks right into as you turn the corner. Immediately, you bite the inside of your cheek as pain floats throughout your kneecap, a harsh sting that floats into warm pressure down your calf. You’re so self-aware of your blood’s rising temperature in this instance that it nauseates you.

“Motherfucker,” you blurt, sucking in a sharp breath through your nostrils. You lift your foot from the ground and lean a majority of your weight onto your opposite heel, elbow pressing onto the counter you envision your stupid boss’s face on. You would punch it if it didn’t mean breaking your knuckles on ceramic in your growing agitation. No, that’s irrational. You need that hand to type.

“Really hoping I’m not the motherfucker you’re talking about,” Carmen mumbles groggily as he emerges from down the hallway. His curls are tousled, somehow despite sleeping on your satin pillowcase his head continued to slide off. He’s not used to sleeping over here, but he’s willing to learn, if his tossing and turning and eventual spooning didn’t illustrate that to you already. There’s something to be said about the way he adjusts the front of his boxer shorts. Despite the adjustment, the briefs hang low on his hips, the v-line of him greeting you as happily as the trail descending to his waistband does. His shirtless form sleepily walks towards you to place a kiss onto your forehead.

“No, no, not you,” you say, gracious for his forehead kiss, but still rubbing your knee to alleviate the issue. He glances at it in concern, an eyebrow lifting. Before he can ask, you stand tall and give him a quick peck on the cheek. Your knee aches, but the less Carmen worries, the better.

“Stay as long as you like, spare key’s in the bergamot out front, I gotta get the fuck out of here two minutes ago,” you rush out in one string of words.

Carmen’s blinking sleep from his eyes, watching as you stomp out of the front door. He craves a longing kiss goodbye, but he’s not daring to request it seeing how urgently you’re behaving. He heads to the window, two fingers plucking the blinds open to observe you hop into your vehicle and speed off too fast for him to feel secure. He frowns. Carmen’s hand scrubs down his face, a migraine pounding in his temples that feels an awful lot like that worry you didn’t want to implement within him.

You’re working more than usual. He admires your work ethic, he does as it resembles his own, but he can’t stop from thinking about how tired you are when you visit him at the restaurant, or when you stay over at his place. You’re snapping consistently, and it may be at inanimate objects like your broken toaster, or the squeaky hinge belonging to your closet door, or your recent victim, this counter you have apparent beef with. The stress is collecting rapidly and Carmen unfortunately is starting to see the patterns interwoven in his skin stitching up your neck. He doesn’t want that for you. He knows you don’t want it for him either, so he’s trying to think of ways he can bring a smile to your face, or at least ease some kind of method to relax the both of you.

Carmen glances around your kitchen and he notices the brown bag sitting in front of your microwave. Curiously, he maneuvers to grab it into his hand. He opens it up and finds a sandwich there, lunchmeat stuffed between two slices of wheat bread. No condiments, no vegetables, no other ingredients. Just bread and turkey. It’s… it’s such a sad sandwich. He wishes you would’ve at least slabbed on some peanut butter and jam if you were going with the easiest route. Two slices of simple turkey breast are hardly nutritional.

Hypocrite. You drank a Coke and ate a bowl of off-brand Froot Loops the other night for dinner.

Carmen shakes his head free of his intrusive thoughts, picking his phone out of his pocket as he plans to text you that you forgot your lunch. You shouldn’t be too far down the road. Then again, as his thumb hovers over your messages together, he recalls how you’re already late. You don’t have time to turn back around for a shitty sandwich you probably won’t even eat. He’s seen you come home and dump these brown bags, still full of whatever meal you threw together in three minutes because you didn’t bother to take your lunch break.

“Not today,” he mumbles under his breath. He retrieves the sad sandwich and takes a bite, chewing it as he washes his hands in the sink. Then, he opens the fridge, scanning through what’s available. There’s not much to work with, but he’s efficient if anything.

“Blegh,” he scrunches his face, the flavor of the bread thick on his tongue as he smacks his lips, “Nature’s Own.”

You’re typing a storm in your cubicle. The deadline for your story is in a day. A day. You didn’t even have time to gather the interview materials and are still waiting on an email from a supervisor from whoever the fuck knows. The name is written somewhere on the clutter of sticky notes hanging precariously off the frame of your desktop. But then again, who has time to crane their neck to check in the middle of meeting your deadline? You’re making due with what you have on hand, your eyes strained from how long they’ve stared at your computer screen.

“Psst…” comes a voice from behind. Fingertips tap your shoulder, momentarily disrupting you from staring at your keyboard. You swivel in your rolling chair, eyes annoyed and tired.

“What?” You spit. Your gaze is unamused watching the world spin and land on Bill, the secretary from the front desk. You almost cringe the same way Bill in front of you seems to do at the tone in reaction. At that, you pick up your face, clearing your throat and straightening your posture, hoping it’s as polite as you wish to convey.

“Your, uh, boyfriend is up front,” he points towards the hall. Bill is jittery. You wonder if it’s because of an excessive use of caffeine or if because your slip genuinely scared him. You take a deep breath and compose yourself more than you have already.

“Oh… I’ll be right out,” you reassure, feeling bad for the small snap you engaged in. Bill is only doing his job. He’s reporting on a surprise visit from Carmen. That doesn’t mean it’s Carmen’s fault for showing up out of the blue, but yours for letting your cool flee, if only momentarily.

As Bill nods and heads off down the hall, you glance at your computer screen one last time. You choose to stop in the middle of the sentence. You tell yourself it’s because you think it’ll be easier to think of a fresh idea to continue when you come back and not because you’re at a loss for content at the present time. You stand up, palms smoothing the front of your vest down your waist as you walk from your cubicle and repeat the same steps as Bill on his way back to his position at the front of the office building. The ninety degree angle of the corner gradually unveils to you your boyfriend Carmen staring down at his phone, a brown bag in his opposite hand beside his pant leg.

He looks up as if sensing your presence, a shift in energy in the room he detects and smiles at from afar. His phone slides into his pocket the closer you approach him, eyes seemingly glowing underneath the shadow of his tan hat’s rim. It’s that kind of crystal embedded in his irises that makes them sparkle with a glass’s shine and an artist’s yearning. But his eyes carry ocean water, not wine, and the reflection of his muse, your face expanding over the roundness of them as you near him and greet him with a hug.

“Hey, your day alright?” He asks, his voice behind your ear. Your chin rests on his shoulder, one of his biceps cradling the back of your head into him. His other arm is still at his side as he kisses your temple and takes a step backward. You catch Bill glancing up from his computer at the two of you from his desk for a millisecond.

“Sure,” you opt for. Maybe if you say it enough, you’ll believe it. You’re capable of tricking your brain so you don’t psyche yourself on it with your overthinking too much… right? “Why’re you here?”

Carmen’s lips press tightly together. He doesn’t say anything, leveling you with his gaze and a raise of his eyebrows that even cause his hat to slightly lift on his forehead. One single look illustrates how wrong of a statement that was.

Replaying it in your head, you notice the edge to your voice, that small extra bit of irritation that made it to your lips. You didn’t mean it, much like you hadn’t meant it when you sharply responded to Bill’s alert.

You sigh and shake your head, one hand coming up to apologetically stroke his arm.

“I didn’t mean it like that–”

“I know,” he halts your explanation. Unlike you, Carmen falls back on the natural softness of his voice, the one where he refutes raising the volume of his words because you’re always standing so goddamn close to him. Another reason could possibly be that you’re having a hard day and he’s sparing you from an unnecessary argument. It’s not like he hasn’t poured lemon over wounds after particularly rough days at The Bear himself.

His hand with the brown bag thrusts in front of you. Short space separates you further. How ironic. He doesn’t want to poke the bear.

“I, uh, brought you your lunch.”

“Thanks…” You murmur awkwardly.

Carmen’s fingers brush yours once you exchange the bag. He curls those same fingers and attaches the back of his knuckles to his lips, stroking them back and forth over his mouth in that nervous tick of his. He stares along your face, the current contemplation in his head somehow both loud and eerily silent. He’s searching for something to say and it’s obvious.

“Yes, well… have a good day,” he settles for. Carmen turns away for a moment, but you don’t like leaving it this way. Especially not since he took the time to drive here and bring you your lunch. He’s subtly advising you to eat without pushing or adding another task you’ll be fretting over.

Your hand captures his, causing him to shift his eyes back to yours. You smile a little brighter. It’s not forced. The gesture is sweet. You lose sight when you’re stressed as any human does.

“I appreciate it, Carm. Thank you,” you redo your gratitude with sincerity.

Carmen’s hand relaxes in yours. He utilizes the hold you have on him in his own favor, tugging you closer to him, engulfing you into his arms. His scent calms you, lingering cigarettes, mint, pomade, and what seems to be a touch of olive oil. He must be working from home again on his day off. Your belly does a small flip thinking of him working comfortably from your home.

“It’s nothing,” he speaks into your hairline, dropping a few more pecks. He notices your shoulders lowering as he does, encouraging him to continue and then return his eyes back to yours.

“But seriously, have a good day,” he repeats, squeezing your forearms.

“Please,” he whispers. You have no choice but to promise him with a grateful and instant nod this time. You’ll find something to get you through the rest of your shift. You can do it for Carmen.

You can’t say you don’t feel defeated as you trudge into the breakroom with your lunch bag shortly after Carmen’s visit. You highly considered skipping lunch altogether to grant yourself more time to work on your report. However, Carmen walked here to get this to you. It’s not a short thing, either. You had to convince him to take your car so he could run some errands. He’ll be your ride back home after work. In the meantime, you’re going to eat to ease your conscience and so that you’re less cranky, minimizing the casualties of your unintentional attacks today. Your boss wouldn’t be as patient as Bill and Carmen.

You gradually open the bag, reaching in and furrowing your brows when your hand meets a cylindrical container first. You thought the bag felt heavier than a single sandwich should, but you were too distracted being apologetic with Carmen to realize he may have added something to your meal. You should’ve known that he wouldn’t be able to resist doing such a thing with how he’s always taking care of you in that department. He shares his talent where he can’t utter his affections, crafting in opposition to orating. Unless, it’s a different word using the root “ora.” He’s rather good at that, too.

“Carmen, you didn’t,” you mutter under your breath, unscrewing the cap of the first container. Basil, garlic, sweet confection underlying in the background, and roasted tomato spike up in a familiar aroma, the trapped steam floating up to blanket your nose in humid warmth and a nostalgic trip to when you sat with him at a fast food restaurant and he poked fun at you for ordering a grilled cheese.

“Who orders a grilled cheese without tomato soup?”

“Me. I do. Now give me a sip of your soda.”

He did. He said he felt obligated to since your grilled cheese looked dry.

The memory inspires you to reach further into the bag, and of course, you bring out a wrapped item suspiciously in the shape of a square. You already know what’s hidden inside as you undo the layers Carmen meticulously folded for you. Heat sticks to your fingertips. It makes you wonder if he jogged on his way here to get this all to you for it to be this warm still.

The sourdough bread in your hands is perfectly golden without being drenched in oil or even close to being charred on the sides. The bite you take is better than the appetizing appearance it has, a cheese pull connecting your teeth marks on the surprise sandwich to your mouth, steam rising off the strings of the monterey jack and cheddar webs. It pairs nicely with the tomato soup Carmen’s provided, the distinct taste mellowing the salt and tang of the sourdough, something sugary and smooth and still tart melding the classic flavors along your tongue.

You didn’t expect this, and part of you is asking why you didn’t see it coming because of who Carmen is and what he does for a living and for a hobby and for a passion, but you’re not going to mull over your perception’s off-game today. No, you’re going to finish your grilled cheese, soup, and that report. You’ll be sure to credit Carmen in due time.

Carmen’s waiting for you in the parking lot behind your office building. You see his reflection on the driver’s side mirror, his eyes lowered to his phone in his hand. He doesn’t see you coming, his head lifting up curiously as you approach his side instead of getting into the car on the passenger’s. Carmen blinks up at you, the window down most likely for him to get some air. It’s been getting hotter and hotter in Chicago with the change in seasons and your AC isn’t working, as per usual.

“What, do you want to drive—?”

You silence Carmen, obstructing his question with the barrier of your lips. If he’s shocked or surprised, it quickly gets replaced with acceptance and an instant response. He kisses you back, his chin tilting upwards, head perching up out of the window to meet your slumping frame. Your head lolls behind the lead of your mouth, seeking out the feeling and tenderness of Carmen’s lips that he parts to swipe his tongue in rhythm of an upstroking graze. You smile after that, the action creating a centimeter of distance that Carmen closes again, his hand traveling up to the back of your neck to tug you back into him.

You indulge him, laughing against his lips. A smile of his own stretches over his mouth, but he doesn’t detach himself like you did. He goes back for more, stopping only when your hands are patting his wrist to regain his attention back without depriving him too much of your mouth he’s ensnaring with his.

“I finished my report,” you shyly say. You made a big deal about it today and your job in general has been very demanding, causing your behavior to have shifts in line with the spikes in your mood.

“Knew you would,” he replies. He’s still kissing you. They’re spanned out pecks to allow you both to speak during, but he’s making it hard to remember what you wanted to say.

“And my grilled cheese,” you mutter into his smothering stamps. He lets up hearing that, pulling back slightly so he can peer into your eyes. He’s in your shoes this time, sheepish as he tries to casually nod.

“Yeah? And…?” He pauses, gauging your reaction with a suspicious glint in his eyes. You laugh again, nudging his shoulder.

“And my soup,” you stand up taller from the window, fingers resting over the bicep half hanging out of it. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” he saves you the speech, knowing you far too well about how you don’t want him to waste his time. He’s going to convince you someday that his acts of service for you will never be a waste of his time. His hand comes over yours on his arm, glancing at your twitching fingers he’s heard typing in the long hours of the night. He’s not the only insomniac among you two.

“You should let me make you lunch more often,” he bargains. You playfully roll your eyes. This is one debate you’ll continue to have for a long time, it seems. He already works so hard.

“Slow down there, chef.” You use one of Carmen’s tricks, draping your mouth back over his before he has the chance to bullet point out his argument. He sighs, content from how you feel and yet that knowing frustration intertwined in that one breath lingers because he doesn’t mind putting together your future lunches whatsoever.

“Thank you,” you pur, and Carmen releases his grip on his conviction. For now, anyway. He’s planning on bringing it up again later. He’s just getting too lost in your appreciative kissing. It’s convincing him to do this again, actually. He’s plotting a new list of ingredients, cherries and almonds and white whine and… he loses his train of thought when your teeth scrape his bottom lip.