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#like i really like a lot of noises! but some are painful
avocadorablepirate · 2 days
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What Do We Call This? - 07
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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.
Word Count: 1.2K
Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler, they're both kinda mean to each other in this one
A/N: I don't know whether this series has a great flow, and honestly I don't know how well I've portrayed Law's character, but that's okay cause I'm very happy with how this chapter turned out <⁠(⁠ ̄⁠︶⁠ ̄⁠)⁠>. I hope you like it too!
—⁠☆✿☆—⁠
Having boarded Law's ship you trail behind him into the submarine, leaving his crew and the Straw Hats on the deck. While you mindlessly followed him, you took note of the stark difference between the Polar Tang and the Thousand Sunny. Although it seemed a lot more cold, the grey metal walls of the submarine also offered a sense of security in their own way, the faint beeping noises oddly comforting.
Shifting your focus from the walls back to the man walking in front, you called out to him when you realised he hadn't noticed you following, or at least hadn't bothered to acknowledge your presence. On hearing his name Law slowly turned to face you.
"So what did you need my assistance with?" you ask, tilting your head in curiosity. From the time you had spent with him, you knew that when it came to planning, Law was always two steps ahead of the rest. So maybe his plan required you to be in Wano, or maybe he required your assistance with something on his submarine.
"You'd only hurt yourself more if you went with Straw Hat-ya to retrieve Black-Leg. It's better for you this way."
Or maybe not.
"Really? So, that whole needing my assistance thing was a lie?" His lack of a response was enough of an answer.
"I can take care of myself Law. I don't need you constantly watching over me like I'm some child," you assert, ready to storm off before your frustration escalated. But before you can retreat, an all too familiar blue aura envelopes you. "Law-" you try to protest to his actions but your words fall on deaf ears.
"Room."
"Shambles."
The room shifts to what looks like the infirmary of the Polar Tang, and you find yourself already seated on the white matress of a surgical bed as Law shuts the door to the room. Before you can inquire about his intentions, he answers your unspoken question.
"You haven't changed your bandages since we left Dressrosa," he remarks, pulling out a gauze wrap from a drawer and positioning himself in front of you.
"I changed them yesterday," you counter, but this only leads him to roll his eyes, "Clearly, you didn't do a good job of it," he chides, gesturing at the gauze that had been haphazardly wrapped around your torso. In your defense, you were in a bit of a hurry. Robin had found some books in Zou that she thought you would like, and you were all too eager to read them (plus, lingering in the infirmary for too long risked someone seeing your wounds)
"They don't need to be changed. I'm fine. It's all healed." You once again try to convince him, but you're met with a stern look this time. "Just because filling yourself up with alcohol and sleeping every chance you get numbs the pain, does not mean you're healed."
You're caught off guard by Law's reply. Though you think to yourself that maybe you should have known that someone like the Surgeon of Death, who knew how your devil fruit worked would notice that your consumption of alcohol and constant need to sleep were clear signs of you trying to distract yourself from the pain. Evidently, you had no memory of what you had said to him a few nights ago.
"Law-" you once again try to protest, but he's already removing the bandages, and you wince as his hand lightly grazes your side. He looks at you confused, your wounds shouldn't hurt just from this, he thinks to himself, and quickly but gently removes the rest of the gauze. His expression changes from one of confusion to frustration as he looks from the fresh blue-black bruises spattered across your torso to you.
"How did this happen?" he asks, and you shift in your seat, biting down on your lip as you contemplate telling him or not.
"How did this happen?" he spits through gritted teeth, and you shift your gaze away from him, at the same time realising that he wouldn't relent until you gave him an explanation.
"Some of the Minks were still injured before we left Zou, and Chopper wasn't around, so I helped them."
You notice his fists clench and unclench in response to your answer, a sign that he was trying to control his emotions. You choose to slowly meet his gaze as he takes a deep breath before letting out a sigh, already anticipating your response to his next question, "Why didn't you call me?"
"You were meeting your crew after so long, I didn't want to bother you."
He tries to remain calm, but your answer only fuels his frustration. His fists clench once again and he bangs them into the table causing you to flinch. Law's hands now enclose you on either side, his head bent down, so that his hat just about covers the way he's clenching his jaw.
"Why are you always finding ways to hurt yourself?" he murmers, his voice barely above a whisper. But he doesn't give you a chance to repond, "Do you care so little about your life?"
"It's just a few bruises," you respond, and this time he meets your gaze, his grey eyes laden with emotion.
"I don't understand," Law pauses, his anger mounting. "Why!? Why do you not care about your own well-being!? Why do you insist on helping people who've never done shit for you!?"
His words strike a nerve, and you scoff. You can only assume that he's referring to the Straw Hats. Your own emotions are starting to get the best of you, and you throw him a glare of your own, "What the fuck do you know!?" you yell back. Law's taken aback by your outburst, but is quick to regain his 'composure'. However, you don't give him time to respond.
"You know absolutely nothing about me Law, and you have no fucking idea what I've been through and what these people have done for me! So stop trying to protect me!" You grab at the gauze wrap and try to push him aside, but he doesn't budge. His hands grip tightly at the white sheets of the surgical bed, but he doesn't say anything.
"Move Law," you command, but his grip only strengthens, his knuckles turning white.
"I know enough about you to know that you knew Cora-san, and that's enough of a reason for me to protect you."
Law's jaw relaxes, but he remains silent and unmoving, reverting to his stoic demeanour as he waits for some sort of reaction from you, or maybe deliberates over what to say next. You're taken by surprise at first, not knowing how to react to his revelation. But the emotions are quick to come back, and your frustration with him that has been unknowingly brewing over the past month refuses to back down from this confrontation.
"Then you know that he wanted both of us to keep living. Yet you were ready to give your life in exchange for bringing down Doflamingo. So, don't fucking come to me about not caring about mine," you retort with more spite than you intend, your words almost like venom to Law. But you're far too infuriated to take them back. With one final shove you manage to push past him.
"(Y/N)-ya," he calls out to you, attempting to sound firm, but the tremble in his voice is unmistakable.
"I think it's best if we keep our distance," you mumble more to yourself as you walk out the door, leaving Law behind.
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A/N: This was actually supposed to be longer, but I decided not to include the next part cause it would kinda downplay this part and just lose the drama. So y'all are going to have to wait till next week for them to maybe make up :⁠-⁠P.
taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld
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Transit
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Summary: John “Soap” MacTavish & Simon “Ghost” Riley wait for a military convoy. Ghost finds out Soap knows a song that isn’t “Anarchy in the UK” by the Sex Pistols.
The only thing cutting through the silence of the pre-dawn darkness was the lieutenant opening and closing his mouth, clacking his bloody tongue piercing against his teeth — mindless and heedless of the phantom pain shooting through Soap’s mouth every time it happened. The wet sounds of lips parting, smacking, tongue licking and detaching from soft, spit-slicked gums were driving Soap up the walls.
“Gum?” There lieutenant’s voice cut through Soap’s unease.
“Gum- what?”
“Did ye want any?” Ghost asked, producing a sliver-wrapped strip from somewhere. Mysterious pocket candy, as likely to be fresh as it might have been plucked from a dead Russian operative seven months ago, and Ghost had simply forgotten to empty his pockets before laundry. Juicy Fruit mixed with old pocket sweat stains and Persil detergent didn’t seem like a flavour to chase the miserably watered down and microwaved coffee sachet he’d called his breakfast because mess didn’t open until five. Two full hours before they were scheduled to leave. Soap sighed and turned his face towards the window. They were supposed to be out on the road already, but the fucking convoy of course ran late — and now all they could do was stare at the silent radio and wait. He hated these hours wasted in limbo.
Ghost seemed oddly calm, for once. Aside from the whole mouth-smacking of course. Soap wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps the situation had him more on edge than usual.
“Bother ye if I start the motor?” Soap asked. The windows were fogging up and the used air was making him sleepier than it should, although given the three thirty wakeup call he decided to cut himself some slack. Still, being this tired without the convoy having reached base yet, let alone getting a move on, it didn’t seem like his best idea.
“Keep the lights down. Lieutenant Morrison gets weird about his boys and they’re facing us.” The lieutenant wiggled his leg. “Tell me about your basic,” Ghost finally asked.
“Wot? Story time because ye’s types didn’t have a good sergeant in basic?” Soap snorted. Ghost did that thing he liked to do where he could be staring at Soap, at Soap’s bones and nerves and delicate blood vessels, or something not-Soap which just so happened to occupy the same space as Soap. The eery glare didn’t really do it for Soap so he turned the key in the ignition and took a second to appreciate the warm red and orange lights popping up before he twisted the key one notch further and the old jeep coughed back to life. The machine was loud in the pre-dawn silence, cutting through the dreams and exhausted half-comas that their comrades surely still tried to escape in.
“Used to ah. We used to sing a lot. Had an Irish boy in our group, he knew all these songs from his ma’s pub.”
“Sing like a bird, the lot of you?”
“Ever heard a shoebill, Lt?” Soap asked.
“On YouTube,” his lieutenant admitted easily. Soap sniggered to himself.
“Surprised ye know what that is, sir.”
“Had to take basic somewhere, didn’t I?” Ghost asked mildly. The weirdly wet mouth-noises stopped, and instead he started popping one of the buttons on his thigh pocket.
“Yer right mad if ye think for a second I believe that Sir, all due respect.”
Ghost only hummed to Soap’s indignant reply. “Sing us a song then, Soap.”
“Ever heard a Kiwi?”
“Had one run up to me in the middle of a night training with Aussie SAS,” Ghost replied with what sounded like a grimace. “The poor sods that were sent to populate that continent really had to think they were being sent to hell.”
“They didn’t know how America would turn out,” Soap replied absently, trying not to focus too hard on the repetitive metallic plop of Ghost opening and closing the buttons on his trouser pockets.
“A right comedian before sunrise.” At least Ghost seemed amused by his disgruntled, short replies.
“Aye, Dante had shit on me,” Soap agreed easily and wondered for the umpteenth time why Ghost would be so fucking awake at this ungodly hour. He wasn’t used to superiors sitting awake while they waited for a convoy, wasn’t used to conversation beyond talking shit at the CO passed out snoring in the passenger seat.
“Not quite, Soap,” Ghost said with what sounded like a smile. “Promised me a song, sergeant.”
“Nae danger did I promise ye anything,” Soap tried.
“Don’t get cute with me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”
“Go’an then.”
Soap sighed and rolled his eyes for good measure before adjusting the fan to heat the windows.
“There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl,” he started and then stopped himself to clear his throat. “But give me a ramblin’ rover frae Orkney down to Dover. We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.
“If you’re bent with arthritis, your bowels have colitis, you’ve gallopin’ bollockitis, and you’re thinkin’ it’s time you died,
“If you’ve been a man of action, though you’re lying there in traction, you may gain some satisfaction thinking ‘Jesus, at least I tried’.
“Oh there’s sober men and plenty, and drunkards barely twenty, there are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl.”
“Missed your true callsign, didn’t you?” Ghost asked quietly, as if he regretted breaking the silence after Soap’s voice cracked on the last line. “Sing like a lark for me, Soap.”
“Not a happy song, Lt.” Soap exhaled through his nose, and tried not to think too hard about the way his voice had cracked. On how many notes he had missed. Why he had chosen that particular part of the song to sing.
“Doesn’t change that you sing it nicely, sergeant. Sound like a choir boy.” Soap bit his lip, uncomfortable with how easily Ghost had spoken about Soap’s childhood, regardless of if it stemmed from Soap’s personnel file — which Ghost has full access to, it would just be weird — or if it had come from conjecture — also weird to think of himself as so easily fitting into patterns, Soap thought.
“Think that’s the convoy up ahead, on the service road?” Soap noticed movement to his left, half hidden behind his lieutenant’s bulky form. Desperately wished for the moving string of lights to be his reprieve from Ghosts eery perception. Ghost turned in his seat, twisting his entire spine. Soap thought to himself that he’d have been both more and less surprised at the same time if his lieutenant had just swivelled his head like an owl.
“You good to drive, sergeant?” Ghost asked.
“Tell you when it changes, Lt,” Soap promised and watched Ghost’s satisfied little nod.
“Then hit the road,” he ordered lightly and started fiddling with that stupid pocket again.
“Yes, Sir.” Soap smiled to himself while he turned on the lights and pulled out of the parking space to slip between the guard vehicles of the MP.
We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.
He hummed to himself, quietly of course as to not disturb the night any further. If Ghost joined him, Soap pretended not to pay any attention to it and weaselled the soft sound away to keep safe in his breast pocket.
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phangneh · 1 day
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Voice In The Abyss
[CHAPTER Ⅰ]
✨Manhwa : Into The Light Once Again
✨Elmir royal family x Fem!Reader
✨Warning : princess!reader, lost memory, yandere elements (both platonic and romantic), protect, ... (will add more)
📌Note: this is just a fanfic, there are many details unrelated to the original story line. English is not my native language, if I make grammatical mistakes or use incorrect words, please forgive me.
🎭Summary : You have a voice that is said to change the world, when you sing, your sweet voice makes people happy and all things flourish. One day, your kingdom was destroyed, you had to live with the pain of losing your family and being severely mistreated. But it seems that you will die in misery, there will be people who will come and take you out of the abyss.
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[ Introduce ]
[ Chapter 1 ]
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Looks like there's a noise on the ground, you think. But you're not really sure, is it really noise? Or are your ears just imagining for themselves?
It's been a long time, even a little warmth of sunlight you haven't even seen, two years of being confined to a dark underground prison, all your senses and body have been worn out. Dark, cold, snake centipede insects you are also used to.
When will you be freed?
Why aren't you dead yet?
Eventually, you find yourself lying on the moldy, slurping ground. A finger can't move now, is God taking you?
The noise doesn't go away, but at this moment you don't care about it anymore. When you close your eyes, it feels like you're leaning on your mother's lap, and she sings you lullabies. There is the voice of your mother, of your father, of your brothers and sisters, it seems that you are with them.
And then you don't feel anything anymore.
...
You wake up, light creeping into the corner of your eye. Brilliant, and uncomfortable. But it's also warm and comfortable. Your head is blank, strangely enough, you don't have any memories in your head. You can't think of anything, you're so strange around, you wonder where this is, there's a lot of mixed emotions, anxiety, fear, restlessness in you,... Suddenly the door of the room opens, a woman enters and is alarmed to realize you have woken up, she is so shocked that she almost dropped the tray in her hand.
"She's awake!"
She speaks something you don't understand. You're vague, weak, but still aware enough that two people came in later, they both looked in a hurry, and seemed surprised to see you open your eyes. Who's that? Do you know them?
"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" A soft voice that you can hear, she speaks a language that you understand, you want to answer, but your throat is too weak to say something.
The owner of the voice was a woman with a gentle and beautiful face, her eyes were like beautiful purple jewels.
She looked very worried... Why?
"Hurry up and call the priest here!" Another voice, but that of the younger girl, they were the same, they both had cloud-white hair, but she had blue eyes... It was like that lake, clear and shining. She was as beautiful as an angel.
"It's going to be fine, you're safe."
You are confused, why are you here, who they are, why are you like this, so many questions in your mind.
What happened?
...
You gaze silently out the light-filled window, your aimless eyes gazing into the distance. It's been two days since you woke up, Empress Iris – that beautiful purple-eyed woman said that you have been in a coma for almost 1 month since they found you.
"(Y/n) (L/n)"
The name crosses your mind, people say it's your name. You don't remember anything, your dark eyes look down at your bandaged hands, not an inch of flesh is healed right now, everywhere is full of wounds, some have become infected, some have become scars.
You are now in the Elmir Empire, a beautiful and prosperous Empire. Somehow you have been taken care of directly by the royal palace, everyone here is kind to you, even if you do not understand their language, but it seems that their words mean good. The only people you can hear are Empress Iris and Princess Aisha, who are by your side for two days today.
"(Y/n)"
The gentle voice wakes you up from the train of thought, Princess Aisha, she is looking at you with worried eyes.
"How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?"
You shake your head slightly, then your tired eyes can see how relieved she is to see you're okay. Anytime you see anxiety on people's faces, you realize that you are the cause of that anxiety.
"Tell me if you're uncomfortable, please! I'll handle everything."  Aisha gave you a reassuring smile, hoping to get some reaction from you. For the past two days, the priests have taken turns treating you. Your condition has improved significantly, you can eat normally and move around more. Even so, you still look empty, like a lifeless doll. Aisha hopes that after you can walk, she will take you for a walk around the palace grounds. It will certainly be very quick, the divine power of the priests will help you recover quickly.
You really can't help but feel grateful for the care and concern of everyone in the Elmir royal family, from the Empress, Princess to the servants, they are truly good people. You were sure of it after only two days of interacting with them, there really was no one who could care for another person with such incredible enthusiasm.
However, for Aisha.
To this day, Aisha can't forget the moment you were taken back to the palace, you almost stopped breathing, disheveled... and couldn't have looked more horrible. They can't imagine what you've been through, your body is full of wounds big and small, sickness and skin diseases. Anyone who saw your condition was dumbfounded, there were no words that could describe you then. They wonder if the people who make you like this are still human.
So cruel.
So evil.
Why would they treat a human being like that?
Even if you don't know them, their hearts won't allow them to leave you alone. Luckily, they narrowly saved your life.
Aisha finishes her flashbacks, she looks up at you, seeing your eyes staring at her startles her.
"W-what's wrong?"
You look at her intently, after a while, you open your mouth slightly, but then you stop. You feel like you want to say something to her. But somehow, you want to say something. You become confused, struggling to find a way to express your thoughts.
"You want to say something?"
Seeing that she understood, you quickly nodded. Aisha thought, then quickly ran out of the room, you looked at her puzzledly, Aisha came back very quickly, in her hand were a few sheets of paper with a pen and ink.
"We can communicate this way, if you can't already speak" Princess Aisha certainly couldn't hide her joy knowing you wanted to talk, because probably from the moment you woke up, apart from nodding or shaking your head to express your best friend's thoughts, you didn't express anything that sounded like you wanted to talk. Aisha is really curious what you want to say to her.
When you pick up the paper and pen from Aisha, you pause for a moment, then start writing something. Your hands trembling, the black letters trembling on the paper, the Princess stares at you intently, waiting for what you are writing. After you stop, you slowly hold up the paper in front of her, Aisha narrows her eyes, trying to see your indistinct zigzag handwriting clearly.
"Thanks"
"For was... take care of you?" Aisha looked up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. When you nod, she knows she's read exactly what you want to say.
Before she could say anything more, Aisha saw you start writing on paper, looking urgent and hurried, as if you were afraid you'd miss the time to speak your mind.
"Once I'm well, I'll leave right away."
As she read those words, Aisha frowned slightly.
"Why? Where are you going?" She asks you, leaving you momentarily confused.
"Go Home"
Go home.
That's what you want, even if there is no memory of your so-called 'home' in your mind.
Aisha can't help but be surprised, because since you regained consciousness from that coma, no one has told you about your hometown, maybe 'home' is not something you would think about now. But now, you tell her you want to go home. How can Aisha tell you that your home is now a ruin?
"(Y/n), you can only stay in Elmir for now..."
When the Princess says that, you look confused, your eyes on her waiting for an explanation.
"Well... You see, your health is still unstable, right?"
"Staying in Elmir will give you time to recuperate, and I and everyone will take care of you."
So... For now, please rest assured to stay in Elmir, okay?
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adhbabey · 1 year
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anyone else feel pain with loud noises? Like two ceramic dishes clashing together, or a pop of a balloon, or something else? Like, am I the only one?
My partner mentioned stuff the other day about misophonia, and I came across hyperacusis by researching about it. But I don't think what I experience is severe, I just do feel pain when I hear loud/sharp noises.
Is this normal ? Can someone tell me about it? thanks.
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raeofgayshine · 10 months
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All I want is for there not to be a hole in my closet ceiling so I can go back to having my stuff in my room in their correct places and I don’t have to worry about something happening until it’s fixed
But since this isn’t my house I have exactly zero control over that, and over contacting the people who are supposed to fix it. At some point. We don’t actually know when and I’m so fucking upset about it
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champagnefountains · 3 months
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LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.
CHAPTER II - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.
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Previous chapter: [x] Word Count: 3.4k+ words (unedited). Genre/other tags: Angst with some fluff. Jealousy. Fem pronouns used. Warnings: Swearing. Self-deprecation. Manipulation (on Alastor's part).
It had been nearly over a week since you and Lucifer last talked – it had also been a week since Lucifer was last seen around in the hotel. Angel, being the gossiper he was, relayed everything that had transpired between you two to the others the following day. Seeing the sensitive and sad shell of a person you were left in, everyone remained cautious and had started walking on eggshells around you. Of course, you were quick to pick up on that, as embarrassing as it all was (minus Alastor, who continued on with his usual theatrics and mischief). 
Charlie in particular was the most concerned out of them all, since this was her dad we were talking about. She knew with certainty that he was confining himself in the castle to distract himself from what happened – likely something involving his rubber-ducky obsession – instead of facing the problem head on. It was his pride that sometimes got in the way of his better judgement.
Not only that, but Charlie clearly saw the massive toll it took on you. If you weren’t distracting yourself with work or doing something related to the hotel, you would lock yourself away in your room, only coming out to quickly grab a bite to eat from the kitchen. Charlie even made efforts to strike many conversations with you from time to time, but was either excused or was only given one-worded responses. She knew not to take your dismissive behaviour to heart, but she couldn’t help but fret over you.  
So it came as an absolute surprise when out of nowhere, Charlie received a call from her father. She messily scrambled for her phone on her desk, fumbling and nearly dropping it in the process before violently tapping on the small screen. “H-Hello?! Dad, hey!” She answers a bit too enthusiastically while nervously combing her hair with a free hand. “Uh, hey Charlie!” Lucifer stiffly greets from the other line, “I just…um, thought I’d give a call to, uh, see how everyone’s going at the hotel!” The Princess noted how much hoarser his voice was than usual, but decided not to comment on it aloud. 
“Well, y’know how it is! It’s been busy and lively as always–everyone’s been working really hard and all,” she answers vaguely, nervously chuckling. “Err, yeah! Right. That’s a–that’s a relief to hear. Yep,” he hums. There was a brief, awkward pause that ensued soon after, the both of them not knowing what to say next. The whole exchange was becoming increasingly painful that Charlie resisted the urge to pull her hair. She then clears her throat. “H-How about you, dad? What’ve you been up to? You’ve been gone for a couple or so days,” Charlie finally musters, “are…are you doing alright?” 
“Me? Oh yeah, psh! I just got, erm…a lot of things going on at the moment. It’s not so easy being the big boss of hell after all! Got a lot of important things to do! Plus, I’ve got heaps of paperwork to do for the hotel. You should know how tedious that is,” He says, adding an exaggerated groan. 
The princess furrows her brows. “Oh, that’s…strange. ’Cause I could’ve sworn you left all the papers here…y’know, the ones you told me to revise over?” Charlie replies, side-eyeing the said documents stacked neatly on her desk. A startled yelp escapes his throat. “O-Oh...did I?” He stammers.
Charlie couldn’t help but wince at the evident panic that began to set in as she listened to her father make incomprehensible noises from the other line. It was a poor attempt in reasoning, which ultimately became useless in the end. Lucifer let out a long sigh, caught red-handed. “Oh, who the hell am I kidding? You guys probably already know what happened–which by the way, Charlie, you shouldn’t be lying to me about!” He pointedly remarks. 
“I-I’m sorry, dad! It’s just…I’m really worried about you,” she reasons, before shortly adding, “...The both of you.” 
There was a small pause. “...How is she, by the way?” He then asks quietly. Charlie nervously tugs her bottom lip with her fangs. “Well, she’s keeping herself busy. Constantly, as a matter of fact. And I know she’s trying hard to convince us all that she’s holding up okay, but…she doesn’t look too good, dad. She seems really upset.”
A shaky exhale sounded from his end. “I…I really am hopeless, aren’t I?” He mumbles defeatedly. Even though she couldn’t see him, she could picture him burying his face in his hands. The image caused Charlie’s eyes to soften. “Dad, no. It’s not too late. You still have a chance to make things right,” Charlie gently encourages through the speaker, “you just need to talk to each other–”
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, a bright, blazing portal manifests from thin air – from it, emerges Lucifer himself who appeared extremely dishevelled, effectively catching Charlie off guard. 
“But, hun, y-you don’t understand! I messed up big time!” He exclaims, tugging on his unkempt hair as he aimlessly paced around her office. “I-I mean, look at me! I’m a fucking mess and a coward! Why would she ever think to take me back after what I did!?” He chuckles humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief, “I-It’s like no matter how many times I try to redeem and convince myself that everything’s finally going right in my life, I just continue to fuck myself over and over again. And it’s just– ugh! It’s pathetic! I’m fucking pathetic!” 
Charlie’s chest tightened considerably as she watched her father self-destruct before her. Strands of his golden hair were sticking out here and there, his dress-shirt tousled, and his eyes were glossed over and red, from both a lack of sleep and crying. He looked utterly devastated. Chucking her phone away, she immediately sped towards and enveloped Lucifer in her arms, who immediately broke down into heavy sobs. Seeing him like this brought tears to her own eyes, but she firmly told herself to be the stronger person in this situation, for his sake. 
“Hey, hey. Dad, listen to me, okay? Everyone deserves a second chance. You of all people should know–you were the one who taught me that, remember?” Charlie rubbed his back soothingly, trying to ease the jumpiness of his shoulders. “And that also applies to you. I…I know you’ve been through a lot, especially with mum…” She couldn’t help the way her frown deepened as she spoke, “...and I miss her too. I miss her a lot. But…I think it’s finally time for you to move on. It’s been years, dad. You deserve to be happy and you’re allowed to be in love again.” 
“[Name]’s an amazing person, and there’s no doubt about that. She’s proved that more than many times already. I’m certain that once things ease over and you guys finally talk things through, everything will turn out okay; she’s very understanding and kind like that. You’ll both be okay.” Charlie gently pulls Lucifer away and with the sleeve of her blazer, she wipes his damp, reddened cheeks. “I know for a fact that she loves and cares about you deeply – we can all see it as clear as day. You…you love her too, don’t you, dad?” 
For a brief moment’s contemplation, Lucifer suddenly recalled the times you spent together, from your initial meeting to now. He had always thought you were a strong and independent soul, with the way you carried yourself. You just had something about you that naturally drew in those around you, including himself. When Lucifer got to know you in a deeper level, he was enthralled by how kind and understanding you were – you were always there to listen to his many tales and endless nonsense; you would always seem genuinely interested in his rubber-duck-esque inventions, offering some input and critiquing his creations; and you would always be so, so supportive of all his plans and ideas, no matter how extraordinary they all seemed.
If he hadn't known any better, Lucifer would've thought you were an actual angel. You were the saviour that wore off the darkness in troubling times, and the one who pulled him out of the void that Lilith had left him in. That and more, as you continuously gave him a real reason to remain hopeful. You were proof personified, that he was able to open his heart once more, and to love again.
“I-I do, I really do,” Lucifer affirms in a heartbeat. Charlie smiles warmly, relieved by his answer, “then that’s all you need to say.” At that moment, Lucifer's chest swelled in overwhelming pride for his daughter, knowing that despite not being as present in her life until recently, she grew up to be the good and strong-willed person he had hoped for.
“O-Oh, jeez. Since when did you grow up so big? I should be the one comforting you,” He tearfully jokes, sniffling whilst returning her smile, “but thank you, Charlie. Really. I’m…I-I really am grateful to call you my daughter.” The two royalties then shared a heart-felt moment and a bone-crushing hug, with the King's heart being filled with a new-found determination. Because, just as he always says: The show must go on. 
Earlier on:
On the other side of the building, you were drowning yourself in your own self-despair as you overlooked the balcony by the front entrance of the hotel. Your eyes lazily scanned the new hotel patrons below, who were engaging in some trust exercises led by Vaggie, who came in to cover you just moments ago. Every once in a while, you couldn’t help but glance at your phone, silently hoping to receive some sort of notification from Lucifer, or even an inkling of his whereabouts. But you received nothing, which only fuelled your growing anxiety.
You felt awful leaving the way you did that night, especially after dumping so much onto Lucifer. You felt like you were being completely selfish, and had cornered him into making a big decision. And because of that, your relationship was on the line. You let out a frustrated sigh, rubbing angrily at your face.
Little did you know however, that you had some company lurking nearby, watching you in silent amusement. 
“Now, don’t you look as miserable as ever?” Alastor mockingly chimes in, stepping out from the shadows to make his presence known and joins you by the balcony. You roll your eyes at the deer-demon before turning your head the other direction. “Yeah, and what about it?” You scoff, leaning in to rest your arms against the rails, “Can’t you go bother someone else, Alastor? I’m certainly not in the mood right now.”  
“Why, I wouldn’t be a good hotelier if I left a dear co-worker of mine so down in the slumps!” To your dismay, Alastor reappears in front of you, obstructing your field of view, "And might I add, it's not healthy for you to be all cooped up in your room all the time – stay there any longer, and it can do silly, little things to your head!" He emphasises his point as he spins a finger in a circular motion by his temple. You shot him an irritated look, slowly growing fed up by his prodding. 
"Listen, I don't need you telling me what I should and shouldn't do. I’m more than capable of deciding that on my own,” you growl, straightening up to cross your arms firmly against your chest. “Hm...no, I don’t think so!” Alastor hums, shaking his head disapprovingly, “The unfortunate affair that took place in your courtship with the King has left you in such a vulnerable, and problematic state. And I’m sure you’ve taken note of how everyone’s been acting around you – constantly walking on their tiptoes in fear of setting you off on a hissy-fit. You’ve caused them to worry a lot about you, dear. Poor ol’ Charlie, especially.” 
You open your mouth to retort back, but nothing came out. A strong pang of guilt struck you as his words began to sink in. Seeing this, Alastor’s grin widened a faction as he stepped forward and levelled himself with you, now facing you eye-to-eye. “And as the executive producer of this fine establishment, might I critique that your behaviour is affecting our team’s morale and performance…and we mustn’t have that now, should we? Especially not since we’ve all been more preoccupied recently with our guests!” He…had a fair point, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.
“I…I’m sorry. I didn’t…know…” Your voice began to trail off, shoulders slumping in realisation of how selfish and contemptuous you’ve been acting this whole week. You recalled the fretful expressions of your friends and your dismissive attitude towards them. “I-I didn’t mean to make everyone worry…” you quietly say. Alastor’s words only made you feel immensely worse about the whole situation, leaving you sniffling on the spot. 
“Now, now. As long as you realise your mistakes, then you shall be forgiven,” he coos, softly patting the tuft of your head. At that, you couldn’t help but send a doubtful glance his way. “W-wait a minute…why do you care all of a sudden? What exactly are you playing at?” You suspiciously question as you rub at your eyes. 
“Oh, how you wound me, dear! Why must you always question any act of kindness I display? Is it really that hard to believe?” He adverts, evidently feigning hurt. You deadpan. “Yes, it is,” you reply almost instantly. Alastor chortles at your bluntness, “Haha! You’re quite a work of art, aren't you, dear? Now, let’s go out for a walk, shall we?” 
Before you could’ve processed what he had said, Alastor had already spun you around, pulling you with him as you both headed down a flight of stairs. “Wha–Alastor, where are we–where the heck are you taking me?” You asked, trying to keep up with his long strides so as to not trip down the stairs. “Hm? Did I not already specify? It looks like your brooding has impacted your hearing, dear. That’s a shame,” he slyly comments, now dragging you towards the entrance, “We’re both going for a walk around town, it’ll help clear that cloudy head of yours!” 
“Hold on-Stop! Just what makes you think I’d agree to go out with you?” You shoot back, retracting your arm from his hold and stopping metres behind him. Alastor sharply turns around and pulls out a wrinkled, yellow piece of paper out of thin air. Your eyes dart towards the sheet, seeing a familiar hand-writing across the page. 
“Why, I just knew you were going to question me – you're so predictable. But might I add, we’re not going out without purpose! No, no! Our lovely Charlie has composed a list and requested we fetch a couple items in town!” Stepping forward, you swiftly snatched the paper from his clawed hand and briefly scanned the list, noting that it largely consisted of decorations and party items. “She wanted to organise a heart-warming celebration for the wayward souls here who have accomplished some milestones on their journey to redemption! An anniversary ceremony of sorts, if you will,” Alastor explains, lightly patting the non-existing dust off of his suit.
“But couldn’t you just…I don’t know, teleport the things here?” You blatantly ask, raising a brow at him. You knew he was more than capable of doing such minuscule tasks within a span of seconds. “And waste such a beautiful day outside? Now, why would I even consider doing that?” Alastor states matter-of-factly, “And like I said, the short trip will help clear your troubled mind! Consider it a gesture of compassion from yours truly.” 
There was clearly something off about all this but you couldn’t see any reason for an ulterior motive. It was just…simply a manager looking out for the well-being of his work-colleagues, as uncharacteristic and off-putting as it sounded out loud. Already exhausted, you couldn’t bring it in yourself to question his actions any further.
“You’re really not going to take ‘no’ for an answer, are you?” You ask. Seeing the way Alastor’s grin widened had you sighing in defeat. “Shall we then?” Alastor questions, offering an arm out to you. Rolling your eyes, you loop one of your arms through and follow him out the hotel. ‘A small walk wouldn’t hurt…’ you think to yourself as the doors shut behind you. 
Currently:
Lucifer tiredly dragged himself to his designated room in the hotel, to rest for a while and take a much needed bath as per Charlie’s advice. He gave himself a lengthy pep-talk in front of the mirror as he brushed his teeth, deciding to approach you tonight to finally talk and clear things out. Yes, he was absolutely terrified about the possibility of things going south during the confrontation, but he didn’t think he could handle another second being without you. And he needed to make that loud and clear. 
After putting on an outfit and neatly slicking his hair back, Lucifer looked at his reflection once more in the bedside mirror, inspecting himself up and down to flatten any remaining creases of his clothing. But it wasn't until his gaze landed on his left hand that he tensed up. Peering down, he brought his hand into view to inspect the very wedding band that caused it all. With a shaky sigh, Lucifer slowly pulled the ring off of his finger. He took a moment to examine it, eyes filled with sentiment before kneeling down to open his bedside drawer, where its designated ring-box sat. The moment he encased the ring in its box and locked it away in his drawer, it felt like a breath of fresh air. To his own surprise, Lucifer found himself tearfully laughing – he felt...genuinely happy. Proud, even. It was at this very moment that he felt like he was finally ready to move forward.
After patting the stray tears away from his face, Lucifer slowly made his way down to the front lobby. There, Charlie and Vaggie were talking amongst themselves by the lounge area, whilst Angel and Cherri chuckled away by the bar, with Husk tending to their beverages. The King didn’t give an inkling of care as to where Alastor had gone, and he was certain that Nifty was hiding somewhere in the small crevices of the hotel, cleaning away. All in all, there was no sight of you whatsoever, visibly disappointing him. 
Seeing his approaching form, Charlie waved his father over towards them. “Hey, dad. Are you feeling a bit better now?” She asks with a comforting smile. “Yeah, totally. Thanks, dear,” he says, patting her shoulder affectionately before turning his attention towards her partner. “Hey! How’s it going, Maggie? I’ve heard you’ve been working real hard lately, huh? Good on yah!” He commends, playfully nudging the said demon. “Oh, um…it’s–it’s Vaggie, sir. And uh, thanks,” she nervously chuckles, rubbing her arm. “Mhm, yeah…that’s–that’s great,” Lucifer distractedly hums, all the while scanning around the room. Noticing this, Vaggie shared a worried look with Charlie. 
“Erm, dad, she’s not here at the moment if that’s what you’re wondering,” Charlie starts, alerting her father. “Oh? Well, is she up in one of the guest rooms?” Lucifer asked, gesturing upstairs with a thumb. To his confusion, Charlie appeared somewhat nervous, her hands fidgeting with her suit. “Uh, no, she’s actually not in the hotel at the moment,” Vaggie steps in, “she’s been out doing a couple of errands for us.” Lucifer raised a brow at the slight edginess in her tone, eyes darting back and forth between the two girls. “...Um, alright. What the heck is going on right now?" He asks, pointing an accusatory finger at them both, "You guys are acting sketchy as fuck. Are you...are you guys hiding something from me?" He narrows his eyes. Charlie sucks in a breath, brows pinching together, “Well...dad, t-the thing is–” 
“She’s out with Smiles right now!” Angel suddenly intervened, calling out from the other side of the room, and causing Charlie to cower and duck behind Vaggie. Lucifer felt his shoulders grow rigid. “She’s…what now?” He dangerously asks, glaring at the arachnid. Before Lucifer trudged towards the direction of the bar, the front doors of the hotel abruptly flew open. He felt the vein in his neck nearly burst at the sound of your laughter interlacing itself with that god-awful, irritating radio feedback. What a wild coincidence.
As Lucifer turned around, his eyes nearly flew out of his head as he saw how close you were with Alastor, arms basically locked together. The radio-demon was quick to meet eyes with the King, and out of spite, Alastor flashed him the biggest shit-eating grin he's ever seen.
“Oh, fuck no!”
Chapter III - Finale [x]
Thank you for reading!
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ragingbookdragon · 3 months
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She blinked in her drunken haze at the bartender who nudged a glass of water towards her; her brows drew in confusion, and he said, “Look if you want to keep paying, I’ll keep serving, but you look like you need a ride home rather than more drinks. Drink some water and find a ride.”
Throwing a poor thumbs up, she watched as he walked off and she pulled out her phone, thumbing her password in so she could go to her contacts; his was one of the first and she managed to press call, laying the phone down on the bar, her head laying atop it. They picked up on the second ring.
What.
“Lt,” she slurred. “Will you come get me?”
You’re drunk, aren’t you?
It was rhetorical, she knew that, but she responded anyway. “Yeah, drank too much.” She closed her eyes. “Will you please come get me?” she smiled when she heard the annoyed sigh come across the line. “Pleeeeeeeeeeease,” she whined.
Pay your tab and I’ll be there in a few minutes.
“You’re not going to pay it for me?”
You’re pushing your luck much farther than how much you think I actually tolerate you.
“You tolerate me more than most.”
Whatever.
The line went dead, and she fished around in her pocket for a few bills, laying them on the counter as she lifted herself up and headed for the door. As she stepped out into the night, she drifted to an enclosed corner and sat down on one of the paved bricks that extended from the outside wall, shutting her eyes as she rested her head on the cold stone. She listened as people walked past her, taking in the laughter, the random bits of conversation, sometimes arguments, and breathed deeply as her brain rolled around in her skull.
It wasn’t until she felt the shift of the moonlight from her face to shadow that she cracked an eye open and gazed up at the masked man glaring back at her. “Hi, Lt,” she murmured, and he didn’t even blink.
“C’mon.”
He turned and started walking towards the parking lot when she whined and said, “You aren’t even going to help me up?”
His feet stopped on the pavement, shoulders lifting up and down before he spun around and walked back over, holding out his hand.
“Thank you,” she chirped and took it, letting him pull her up; she didn’t let go of his hand as they walked and at one point in her drunken stumbling, he stopped and let out a tired sigh, bending his knees to kneel beside her. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“Get on,” he retorted, and she looked between his face and his back.
“You mean on your—”
“Get. On.” He growled and she hurriedly draped herself on his back, letting out a startled noise as he stood up suddenly, large hands clasped on the bottoms of her thighs as she wrapped her arms around his neck.
She blinked as she rested her head on his shoulder and murmured, “Wow, the air is so clear up here.” She heard it, the slight snort and she couldn’t help but smile as he carried her. “Lt?”
“What.”
“Thank you for coming to get me. I know I’m a pain in the ass.”
“At least you’re self-aware of how much a major pain in my arse you are. Bigger than Soap is on his worst days.”
“Now that’s just plain mean,” she mumbled, sniffling slightly. “I’m sorry.”
He stopped again and turned his head, looking at her. “I’d rather you be a pain in my arse than be nothing to me at all.”
She gazed at him with wide eyes, unable to stop her mouth from flopping open and he looked down then back to her eyes. “Really?” she asked in disbelief.
“You might be the biggest pain I’ve ever had the displeasure of having, but you’re my pain and I intend for it to stay that way.”
Her mouth shut and she melted against his back as he continued walking, gingerly snuggling closer to him, knees hugging his hips, arms tighter around him as she joked, “I love you too, Lt.”
“Nope, we’re not there yet.”
She paused, then wondered aloud, “You think we’ll ever be there one day?”
It was a long moment before he finally murmured back, “…yeah, maybe one day, pet.”
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shoyoist · 7 months
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── 𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐃 : monkey d. luffy
content: fem!reader. unprotected & rough sεx, semi-public(?), multiple orgasms, once again a lot of cum, spitting, mean dom luffy except he's not doing it intentionally, use of the word ‘cunny’ lmao + a lil manhandling, one mention of anal. note: crawled out of hell to get this done for me & @kingofthe-egirls + the rest of us luffy lovers<3!
— . 。˚ ♡ luffy seems to like it a lot when your pussy talks to him.
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one thing about luffy is that he likes you loud. 
he likes you loud, and he’s demanding about it. demanding, greedy, and sometimes even a little mean. it's almost an unbelievable thing. imagine — your sweet boy, empty-headed and as dumb as a nut, mean.
you don’t think he even intends to do it, but sometimes when he’s got you flat on your tummy, back arching as he fits his dick in you and slides in all the way, the way he grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks together in his grip—telling you blankly, “louder. wanna hear ya.”—you can’t help but shiver a little. 
and sometimes it’s not even your mouth that he wants to hear. it’s your cunt.
“shhh,” he cups a hand over your mouth, stifling your whines as he keeps up that dizzying pace of his. “ya don’t want the others wakin’ up, princess.” 
the deck is empty and the others are all inside, and thankfully, the night is dark enough and the sea rough enough to let the two of you go about your little tryst without bothering the others. 
but he's embarrassing you with the little quips and you want to complain, tell him that with how sharp the slap of skin against skin between your bodies is, there’s no fucking way the others are still asleep. but the next knock of his cock against your favourite spot has you going mindless, the words dissolving on your tongue like sugar, his bliss being the only thing that fills your head.
your pussy squelches with each thrust of his dick inside, wet and hot and messy, but luffy seems to think it’s not enough.
he straightens up for a bit, and you want to whine again because it’s nicer when he’s all pressed up and heavy against your body—but then the glob of his spit hits your ass, the sound of him gathering it in his mouth and spitting again, again and again covering the momentary quiet—and you deliriously wonder what the hell it is that he wants. 
he’s already cum inside you, and he’s made you cum all over him twice over. it’s definitely wet enough.
but luffy spits once more before he’s satisfied, and with a little grunt he leans back over you, body hot and slick with sweat when he presses his chest to your back.
“y’re cute like this.” he comments, and it’s so silly how that’s what makes you blush. just a casual remark, when he’s literally balls-deep in you, on a bunch of messy, patchy sheets laid out on some corner of the ship. “really fuckin’ cute. do ya think i’m cute, baby?”
“mhm, i do.” you mumble, and he giggles as he grabs your hips and pulls you up into a position more comfortable for him and a little less comfortable for you—but you can’t care about that when he rolls his hips into you and has his cock pushing at the sensitive, bruised velvet of your walls all over again. 
the new slick of his spit is enough to get your pussy to make an embarrassing amount of noise as he fucks you, and luffy is laughing again like he loves how it sounds.
“cunny likes how i’m makin’ her feel, eh?” he coos, voice high and giddy with sex-induced ecstasy, loving how your walls tighten up around him when he presses the pads of his thumbs into the flesh of your ass, rubbing circles into your skin as he stretches your asshole out for his viewing pleasure.
“how about here?” he wonders almost to himself. “mmm?”
“lu—captain, no,” you moan, unsure if you’ll be able to hold back, going all dumb with the pain and pleasure so it just turns luffy on even more, if he tries to fuck your ass tonight. “n—not this time.”
“hmmm?” luffy groans, voice cracking, and you know his eyes are squeezed shut, teeth clenched, hands groping you harder as he drives himself closer to his next high. “and what if—what if captain orders it, princess? will ya defy the captain’s orders?”
“luffy—” you try to warn, but he clamps his hand back over your mouth, cutting you off as he snaps his hips into you in an especially mean thrust—and he laughs when your reprimand fluidly changes into a breathless moan right in his palm. “shhh, baby—pussy’s talkin’ to me.”
his other hand winds past your waist, fingers climbing down your inner thighs, searching for your clit through the mess he’s made between them. “she says she wan’s more.” and when he finds your clit, pearly little thing throbbing in anticipation for his touch, the cry you let out says that you want more, too. god, he just makes you feel so good without even trying.
luffy is merciless—and he doesn’t even know it. he pushes past the folds of your pussy and takes your clit between two fingers and pinches, like that isn’t going to send you to a spiritual plane that feels like both heaven and hell. your body rocks against his, but his hand is still over your mouth and you can’t do anything else but cry into it, wordless and incoherent. “mmmm!” 
and all he does in response is fucking laugh. he giggles again, playing with your clit like it's a fidget toy, the pace of his cock in your cunt getting faster and faster as he tightens you up and feels your body quiver underneath him, like a wire about to snap, the perfect thing to empty his load into. “louder, princess. y’r cunt talks better than y’r mouth—ah!”
he cums without warning. 
hot, thick and messy into you, catching even himself off guard. it was probably the way your cunt squeezed him, the relentless toying of his fingers at your clit forcing an orgasm out of you, a pulsing, continuous wave that makes you shudder and cuts luffy off and makes him choke up over you. 
you feel it fill you up and drip out, trailing down your thighs, and you feel luffy’s hot gasps at the back of your neck as he finally stops, wrapping his arms around your waist and falling on top of you like a dead weight. it would feel uncomfortable if you weren’t all tingly and numb.
there is a moment of silence, of shared breaths and body heat, before luffy giggles. “was that good, princess?”
“yeah. i—” your mumble is cut off by another “shhh!” that makes you curl up in his arms, afraid somebody was out and about to catch you both.
but then, you feel luffy’s grin against your own cheek. “quiet, ‘m talking to the cunny, not you.”
“monkey d. luffy. get your ass off me, right now.”
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✨Feathers✨
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Hey hey hey, I’m back! Took a tiny break but I had another idea for a spicy Luci scenario! But this one is super tender cuz Luci needs some TLC like nobody's business! 🥺
This turned out a little more dom!reader then initially planned but I'm happy about it
Big thank you to some of the anons I received for the ideas! I very much appreciate everyone who's given anything I've written their love!
Lucifer x f!sinner reader
Summary: Lucifer's wings are not in the greatest shape, you offer to help clean them...
Warnings: 18+, smut, handjob, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, cockwarming, dom!reader and sub!lucifer if you squint
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It had been a pretty quiet day in house. Lucifer was off with his daughter Charlie for the day, they’ve had quite a bit of father/daughter bonding to catch up on. But this gave you the chance to work on something that you’ve been wanting to make for some time now. It was a secret project, keeping things from Lucifer was harder than it seemed. But with the home to yourself, you were finally able to finish the gift you wanted to give him! Just as you were admiring your work, a portal opened up behind you; Lucifer was back! Quickly, you hid his gift under your pillow before he could see anything. Lucifer stepped through the portal and into your bedroom; you noticed his wings spread out behind him.
“Hi, honey,” you greeted as you walked over to him, planting a small peck on his forehead. He smiled, grabbing your hand and placing a kiss on it in return. “How was your day with Charlie?”
“It was really nice! We went for a little flight, as you can tell,” he laughed, gesturing to his wings. Lucifer’s wings always left you in awe, you couldn’t help but stare at them. But upon further inspection, you saw that they seemed a little worse for wear. You wondered when the last time they were properly taken care of, since you've never seen him actually do anything with them.
“Hey Luci, your wings are looking a little…” you hesitated, looking for the right word, “disheveled. Is everything alright?”
"Ahh," Lucifer sighed, "yeah, I uhh...I'll admit, I haven't paid them much attention. Not in a long while."
You knew that he had been by himself for a long time before you came along. He had mentioned his battles with self isolation and depression that he had fought against for years, but he was never too keen on going into more detail than necessary. Looking back, it would make sense as to why his wings are in the state that they are. It saddened you, you wished you could have been there for him. It was time to make up for that.
"How about this," you proposed, "why don't I run us a bath and I'll help you clean them up. How does that sound?"
"O-Oh, are you sure?," he questioned, failing to hide the fact that his cheeks were now flushed. "They're kind of a pain, I don't want you to-" you cut off his protests with a peck. You felt his lips curl into a smile.
"Nothing's a pain when it comes to you, Lucifer," you assured. "Go get ready and I'll see you in a few minutes, alright? Tonight, let me take care of you."
"Of course," he grinned, "thank you, my angel."
*** Lucifer saw you smile and make your way to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. As soon as the door closed, he let out a long sigh. It really had been years since he’s taken care of his wings. It was a lot easier when there was someone there to help. When Lilith left, it became a much more daunting task. He began to undo his button up shirt, tossing it onto the bed and moved on to undoing his belt. But suddenly, he stopped once the buckle had been unhooked. Shit, he thought to himself, realizing he’d forgotten how sensitive his wings were, my wings being touched are drive me insane! I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together, especially not after years of just letting them go! He sucked in a few deep breaths and continued removing the belt from his pants. It’s fine, it’s fine…as long as I don’t make a noise or turn around. Just focus, Lucifer. For Satan’s sake, you’re the king of Hell!
Lucifer undid his zipper, letting his pants and boxers drop to the floor and kicking them off to the side. Unfortunately, he could already feel the blood rushing between his legs in anticipation. No, no, no!, he scolded himself, we’re not doing this. We’re getting our wings washed and we’re going to bed! I’m not letting this turn into anything other than a nice bath! She CANNOT think I’m just some touch starved pervert! I’m not! He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair, trying his best to calm down. After a minute, he made his way to the bathroom, placing his hand on the knob.
“I’m so fucked,” he whispered to himself before slowly opening the door.
*** It was fortunate that Lucifer had such a spacious home, that meant a more spacious bathroom as well. His bathtub could easily fit four people comfortably, but this at least gave you room to be able to work with his wings. You turned the water on to a nice warm temperature, making sure it wasn't too hot. You undressed as the bathtub began to fill, grabbing a soft washcloth from the closet and bubble bath soap after discarding your clothes. Once the tub was half full, you poured the soap in, letting it mix with the running water. The bubbles appeared fast, you couldn't see that water anymore after a few seconds. Finally, you brought the flow to a stop and dipped your toes in to test that waters. Perfect. You stepped in and slowly began to sink down into the warm liquid that heated your core. Lucky for you, his tub had seats along the sides so you could sit comfortably instead of sinking to the bottom! As soon as you were submerged just below your shoulders, you heard the bathroom door creaking behind you.
"Knock, knock!," Lucifer joked, hitting the already opened door with his knuckles. You chuckled as he closed the door behind him. Not that it was a new sight to you, but his naked figure never ceased to make you blush, as if he were perfectly sculpted. You shook your head, trying your best to focus on his face and not let your eyes wander anywhere else.
"Alright, let's see what we're working with," you stated, prompting Lucifer to conjure his wings once more. As you looked them over, you could tell it would take a little bit of time to clean them properly, but you were more than willing to help. You shifted over to the edge of the tub and offered Lucifer your hand. Smiling, he took hold as you guided him into the water with you. He sat down next you, turning his back so you could start working on his neglected feathers.
"Thank you for this," he spoke softly as you took the washcloth and began to work on his first set of wings. "I really don't deserve it, or you..."
"Luci, don't say that," you cut in, "I love you, and I want to help you. I'll always be here, I promise."
You heard him hum in response. He had a lot more feathers than you originally thought. You wanted to take your time, combing through every feather from his first set as they were the largest. You moved your attention down to his second set of wings after a few minutes. You were both quiet for a while as you continued your ministrations, running the washcloth thoroughly through each of his feathers, ridding them of any dirt. However, the sound of Lucifer's breathing becoming heavier with each passing minute did not go unnoticed by you. Wings were very sensitive areas after all. A tiny smile crept on your face. You had finally moved on to his last set of wings. They would be the easiest to take care of since they were the smallest, but you wanted to test your suspicions before you finished.
"Almost done," you hummed, "you doing alright?"
"YEAH, yeah," Lucifer answered almost too loudly, "I-I'm fine."
"That's good," you responded, gripping his feathers with just a little bit more force than necessary. You heard a small whimper escape Lucifer's throat, his hand shooting out of the water to cover his mouth. Bingo. "You sure you're alright, hon?"
"M-Mhmm," Lucifer mumbled into his palm.
"All clean," you purred, causing Lucifer's wings to disappear in a flash.
Lucifer stood up a little too fast trying to exit the tub, his back still towards you. "Thank you love, I really really appreciate you doing that for me, but I'm kind of tired so I'm gonna-" You didn't let him finish his sentence, grabbing onto his hips and pulling him into your lap, causing a large splash. "D-Darling, what are you doing?"
"And where do you think you're going?" you questioned, letting your hands run down his hips and towards his thighs. You heard Lucifer's breath hitch as your hands roamed dangerously close to his hard on. "What's the matter, baby? Were you hoping I wouldn't notice that you were getting turned on by all my touching? How cute."
You let your hand wander until you finally gripped his hardened cock. Lucifer could only let out a strangled yelp. All too pleased, you began to stroke his cock at an agonizingly slow pace. Lucifer tried to buck up at your touch, but your other arm was wrapped around his abdomen, keeping him flush to your chest. He wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now why would you try to hide this from me, Luci?,” you teased him as you began peppering kisses along the back of his neck.
“Hhng…I-I’m sorry, love,” he swallowed, “it…shit…it’s embarrassing. I shouldn’t h-have had that reaction while you were…ffffuuucckk…” He completely trailed off, only being able to focus on your movements. You had only picked up your pace slightly since you started, you wanted to make this last as long as possible. But unfortunately, you could feel your own arousal start to pulse between your legs. Without warning, you let go off his cock, causing to Lucifer to whimper at the loss of your hand. You swiftly stood up and hooked your arm under his legs, carrying him bridal style out of the tub. He looked up at you with a mixture of shock and arousal. Once you were fully out of the tub, you placed him onto the white marble floor.
"Stay," you commanded. Lucifer held his arms down at his sides, completely immobile. You sauntered over to the rack and grabbed the two fresh towels hanging there. After opening the bathroom door, you dried off your soaking body as quickly as you could before making your way back over to Lucifer with the other towel in hand. You patted his hair down first, then moved to his face and shoulders, working it down to his chest and stomach. You avoided touching the area he needed you to touch the most and finally finished by drying off his legs. "Get ready," you told him as you stood up straight once more. Before he could respond, you scooped him up in your arms again with the towel placed underneath him. You couldn't help but smile down at him once you say how flushed his face had gotten. You effortlessly carried your lover into the bedroom and placed him down on the edge of the bed. You took the towel and placed it on the floor, giving your knees some much needed cushion from the hard wooden floor.
"Sweetheart, p-please," Lucifer said, finally finding his voice again, "you don't have to-" You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his cock, cutting him off mid-sentence. He could only yelp in response.
"I told you that I would take care of you tonight, did I not?" you replied with a coy smile. "That's exactly what I intend to do."
You lowered your head and gently pressed your lips to the head of his cock which was already covered in precum. Your tongue circled the tip, causing Lucifer to grip the sheets beneath him, not being able to focus on anything else. You relaxed your jaw, forcing your mouth down onto his shaft as far as you could manage. You didn't want to choke, after all! You absolutely adored the sounds leaving Lucifer's lips, desperate moaning and incoherent babbling. You quickened your pace, your hot mouth leaving trails of saliva down your hand. You felt Lucifer's legs begin to shake.
"L-Love," he choked out, "if you don't stop, I'm g-gonna...FUCK!" You didn't stop bobbing your head up and down. If anything, it only made you work faster. You felt his hands reach out to your shoulders, seemingly trying to push you away, but he wasn't trying very hard if that was the case. You refused to budge. "OHFUCKME," was the last thing he could mutter before his orgasm hit him, spilling his hot seed into your mouth. It was salty, but not unpleasant. You kept your mouth firmly on his cock as he rode out his high. You felt him soften in your mouth and you finally removed yourself from him with a *pop*. You caught some of his cum on your finger that had leaked from your mouth, licking it clean. Lucifer caught you doing so and buried his face in his hands.
“You’re going to kill me one of these days, darling,” he mumbled.
You chuckled, pulling his hands away to see his bright yellow eyes staring back at you. “I don’t think I have that kind of power!"
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," Lucifer sighed, "my wings are very...sensitive to say the least. I completely forgot about it until it was too late. I thought I could tough it out, but umm, that's clearly not what ended up happening. I didn't want you to think I was some maniac who couldn't control himself..."
You brought your hand up to his cheek, caressing it softly with your thumb. He closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. " You don't have to apologize to me, Luci, it's alright," you comforted. "Besides, seeing you so worked up is extremely hot!"
"Pfft!" Lucifer laughed, picking up on your attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, I'm glad you think so! I was dying the entire time in there!"
You smiled at him and got up from your kneeled position." Do you feel better now? Got it all out of your system?”
"Not quite," he breathed.
As if to take revenge from your stunt from earlier, Lucifer grabbed you by the hips and pulled you on top of him. "HEY!," you protested, but it was already too late; your cunt that's been aching for attention was now perfectly hovered over Lucifer's maniacal grin. Without warning, he pulled your legs down towards him and began to lick up your folds vigorously. His tongue attacking your clit with every lap he took. Your arms gave out almost immediately, forcing you onto your elbows to keep yourself propped up while the dirtiest moans filled the room. "Fuck...Fuck Luci, you feel s-so good...SHIT!," you cried out. His forked tongue worked at your sensitive nub relentlessly, causing the pit in your stomach to tighten. You weren't going to last much longer at this rate, he was too good and he knew it. Every time he ate you out, he always acted like a starving man who would never taste you again. It only took a few more nibbles at your clit before your walls spasmed uncontrollably, cumming hard against his tongue. He hummed in approval as he helped you ride out your orgasm, swallowing every drop of you. You managed to crawl away from him and plopped chest down on your mattress.
"You're insatiable, aren't you, Lucifer?," you teased, still trying to catch your breath.
"And you're irresistible, aren't you, my angel?" Lucifer joked back. He sat up straight against the pillows next to where your head laid. You couldn't help but notice that he was rock hard again. It filled you with pride to know just how much tasting you on his lips could illicit such a response. A thought popped into your head at that moment, your lips forming into a devious smile. You weren't going to let him have the last word. He was done for.
You pushed yourself up from your prone position and straddled Lucifer's lap, leaning down and crashing your lips into his. He moaned into your kiss, licking across your bottom lip, almost like he was begging you for access. You opened your mouth wide and felt his tongue slip past your lips, deepening your kiss. To his dismay, you pulled away from him, panting and breathless. You lined up your entrance with his cock, sinking down onto him in one quick motion. Both of you moaned at the sensation, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. Lucifer eagerly started to buck his hips into you, but you had other plans. You let the rest of your upper body weight fall onto his hips, rendering him immobile.
"Wh-what are you doing?," Lucifer whined as he tried desperately to rut up into you to no avail. "Please...please, need to move...."
You adored him in this state, begging and pleading for you to let him chase his release. "Teaching you a lesson," you grinned, shifting your hips every so slightly and making him bury his head into the crook of your neck.
"PLEASE! Please, I'll do anything!" Lucifer begged, his breathing becoming more and more labored. "Whatever you want!"
"I want you to promise me something, Luci," you cooed, placing your hand under his chin and lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Promise me that you'll come to me if you need help from now on. And in return, I'll promise you that I'll always be there whenever you need me. Do we have a deal?"
Tears welled up in his eyes at your words and the lack of stimulation. He buried his head into your chest, wrapping his arms around you. "YesyesyesIpromiseIpromiseIwill," he sobbed. You smiled and kissed the top of his head, his blond hair brushing against your face.
"That's my good boy," you praised. You decided to end his torment by lifting your hips and slamming back down on his cock at a break neck pace. His wanton moans went straight to your core, you knew another orgasm was fast approaching. He bucked his hips up into you, his cock hitting your G spot just right with every thrust.
"So close...sososoclose," Lucifer whimpered in your ear.
"L-Let go, baby," you choked out in your cock drunken state, "c-cum in me, Luci, pleasepleasePLEASE!"
Lucifer leaned down and bit into your shoulder, muffling his cries as it only took him a few more thrusts before spilling his seed into you. His bite pushed you over the edge as well, pulsating around his leaking cock. You both took a minute to come down from your highs, neither of you wanting to pull apart. At last, you pulled yourself up and out of Lucifer's lap and completely collapsed next to him. You reached over the edge of the bed and picked up the towel from earlier, handing it to Lucifer so he could clean himself up. You were about to fall asleep when you remembered something important.
"OH!," you shouted, startling Lucifer a little bit. "I almost forgot! I made you something!" You reached under your pillow where you had hid his gift from earlier. You pulled out a small duckling keychain with the words "My Little Duckling" beneath it. You passed it to Lucifer who cupped it in his hands, staring at it like it was made of diamonds.
"You...you made this...for me?," he stammered, completely enamored with his present. He clenched his fist around it and held it up to his heart. "I...I love it so much, darling! This is the best gift I've ever received! I'll cherish this forever! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" He pulled you in for the tightest hug he's ever given you while peppering small kisses all over your face. You giggled and managed to capture his lips before he could get another peck in.
"I'm really happy you like it," you smiled. "We'll figure out where you can hang it in the morning, yeah?"
"I'd love nothing more, my dear" Lucifer grinned. "But for now, let's get some sleep, shall we."
You nodded and yawned in agreement. You shifted yourself flush against Lucifer's chest, letting his arms wrap around you. You felt his tail wrap around you leg right before you lost consciousness, letting you know he would never let you go.
~~~~
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IT'S FUCKING DONE BABY, LET'S GOOOOOOOO
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benkeibear · 2 months
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⋆꙳✧༄ Period sex
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꒰ ͜͡➸ Small blurbs about how they'd fuck you during your period
❖ Characters: various jjk men
❖ Reader: female | AFAB
❖ WARNINGS: period sex, mentions of blood, oral (reader receiving), fingering, mentions of anal, slight overstimulation.
❖ A/n: Please see this as a filler episode until I get the long fic out next week 🥹
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Toji doesn't have a strong opinion on period sex. He prefers not to get that messy with blood on the bed or couch but he's up to it on the floor or in the shower.He prefers to fuck your ass during that time - just a personal preference but if you crave his cock he gladly bruises your cervix, not caring if you're a whining mess from the hard thrusts. But his go to is anal to not get your blood on his dick.
Gojo hates seeing you in pain and doesn't mind helping you out. He was actually the one who brought it up, offering to finger you because orgasms help with the cramps and as long as you're keeping yourself somewhat clean down there he doesn't mind using his tongue on your clit either. He did however paint a heart on your mound with your blood after you came three times on his fingers.
Geto isn't too much of a fan of period sex but is conflicted because he knows it will help you with the pain. He will gladly use his fingers and also fucks you but prefers to wait with oral until your period is done. He makes sure to have a towel beneath you and goes for slow but deep strokes to get your legs to quiver from how intense it feels.
Nanami doesn't mind if you're on your period - it's only natural but like Geto he wont give oral during that time. He prefers to finger you or rut into you really slow while in the bathtub. It involves lots of praise of how well you take him, feeling you squeeze around him because the sensation of his cock inside of you is so much more intense during that time. Plus being in the shower or bathtub makes cleaning up so much easier. 
Higuruma is not too fazed by period sex and prefers to use his hands on you during that time since he loves just how sensitive you are. He rolls your clit between his fingers before pushing two or three of his long digits into you without further warning. The way you moan for him, his fingers enough to overwhelm you make him so hard he can't wait to sink his cock into your cunt if you let him. 
Yuuta was a little disgusted at first but gave it a chance since it's just a little bit of blood. Your sweet face when he sunk his dick into you will never leave his mind now. Your eyebrows knitted together and your mouth falling open. You also felt so much warmer than usual he never wanted to stop rutting into you. He likes it when you're on top and he fucks up into you - not caring at all if the blood ends up on him.
Choso blushed when you suggested it to him. He'd love nothing more but to bury himself between your thighs during your period. He devours your core and relishes the taste of your arousal mixed with blood on his tongue, his fingers digging deep into you to massage your sweet spot delicately. The orgasms help with your pain but he doesn't know when to stop, addicted to having you like this.
Sukuna never cared for a little blood but he won't give you princess treatment either. If you're horny or looking for some pain relief he lets you ride him. Tire yourself out on his lap and don't mind the squelching noises from how his cock fills you up. If you're in too much pain he will help you move your hips, gently guiding you up and down his length. He does hold back on the harder thrusts, knowing you're more sensitive on your period. 
Mahito absolutely loves period sex and doesn't mind getting all dirty with your blood. It's so incredibly arousing to him because you're so vulnerable like this and so easy to overstimulate. He doesn't mind lapping at your cunt and making you squirm when he grins at you, half his face covered in blood and slick before giving you a few more orgasms on his fingers and cock. He makes you lick his fingers clean so be careful what you wish for. 
Yuuji is such a caring boyfriend, hating to see you in pain and doing everything he can to make it better so of course if you want him to finger you he will. He was hesitant to fuck you because you whine and whimper a lot but he will make love to you, his thrusts extra gentle and his fingers never leaving your clit to bring you more pleasure. The way you paw at him and whine his name always makes him cum. 
Megumi doesn't like period sex but he also doesn't like you whining around so he's willing to use your toys on you. He can get a little mean during those times and makes sure that you're properly exhausted by the time you're done. He loves to hold the wand against your clit while either using his fingers or one of your other toys to massage your sweet spot until all pain is gone and you're no longer so horny. 
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Networks: @enchantedforest-network @themovingcastlez
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youryanderedaddy · 4 months
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Summary: You're a princess locked in a tower and guarded by a big, scary dragon. But is he as scary as it seems? tw: female reader, deceit, manipulation, murder (not reader), stockholm syndrome(?) My ko - fi <3
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As the youngest princess, you'd always known you would end up like this. In some far off land with little to your name other than some jewels, stuck in a tower just like your mother had been before she got married to a foreign lord, and finally allowed to re-join society. It was such a cliche it was funny at first, but now you just felt like screaming at the top of your lungs from boredom.
At first you didn't feel the unknown presence. The tall man was lurking in the shadows, as if part of the ancient building. You could smell the herbs in the air around him - the minthy fragrance trailing long after he had retired to his chambers. Then little by little you started to recognise him - in certain shades of sunlight, in the back of mirrors, in the tiny lizards crawling at the corners of the stone walls. But nothing could prepare you for that first morning when you saw him - really saw him.
You had woken up early, startled by noise reminiscent of that a bird makes during flight - but multiplied tenfold. You had looked through the window with a weak, fluttering heart. And then you saw his true form - massive yellow wings covered in what looked like pure gold burning brightly in the sky. Long, hard body made of sun - kissed flakes; so sharp they could be used as arrows. And a thin, curled tail drawing circles around your tower.
One of his empty moonlit eyes turned towards you, and it was all over. He immediately dissapeared into thin air, the only evidence of his existence being miles of thick gray smoke. But you weren't going to let the only living creature around run away so easily.
"I saw you!" You screamed long before you could even begin thinking of proper etiquette. Ladylike behavior be damned, you were dying of loneliness in this stupid tower. "Please..." You begged, voice hoarse and desperate from weeks of forced silence. "Come here." You continued ruefully, playing with your hair, chest riddled with anxiety - after all you hadn't spoken to a human being in so long.
You heard a long, almost pained sigh, which made you turn around. You were greeted by a tall brooding figure. It wore the face of a man, but its long golden hair and broad, muscular shoulders pointed to something a lot less human and a lot more devine. He must have been twice your size - trully intimating in all his shining glory. Even in his human form his skin seemed to glow just like his sharp almond - shaped black orbs, constricted in his yellow pupils.
"I'm always here, Your Highness." You remember his exact words simply because you were taken aback by how soft his voice was - just like fine silk. It wasn't the voice of a dragon, but the voice of an angel. "You just never see me." He added with what you then assumed was a hint of playfulness, but now recognised as annoyance. With that he leaned against the wall, crossing his hands together.
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Many months passed since that fateful day. You slowly got to know your new companion - or perhaps, guardian. You learnt that many called him Cain after the fallen son* - once a strong soldier of the Lohemian Kingdom, his injuries had made it impossible to keep fighting. That's how your father found him - abandoned by his brothers, lying in a mudded puddle of his own blood. The rest was history.
He didn't speak very much - but he never left your questions unanswered.
"Cain..." You'd call out with practised uncertainty. Even so far removed from your peers, you still couldn't escape the twisted societal ideals of propriety. You could never be too eager to speak to a man - even if he wasn't fully human. "Is that your real name?" You wondered, genuinely curious. You slowly looked away from the book you were holding and towards your friend, the book long forgotten. The dragon was sitting in the other corner of the room. Despite all the time you had spent together so far, he was still hesitant to come near you. There was a certain stiffness in his strong shoulders - as well as his jaw.
"Princess..." The man mumbled softly, your heart aching by the sheer tenderness of the term. Usually you'd pay it no mind as it was your right from birth, your title - but titles didn't matter here. There was no place for status or riches between those four intimate walls that always felt small despite the spacious squares. "Don't you know curiousity got the cat's tongue?" He responded with a crooked smile that didn't quite reach his eyes - even his smiles were serious and stoic.
"You have it all wrong." You huffed, standing up from your comfortable chair just to make a big, dramatic gesture with your hands. "It's curiosity killed the cat." You stated confidently, waving your finger at the dragon. He let out a soundless chuckle and averted his gaze away from you. He still couldn't get over the fact that you weren't afraid of him.
"Whatever my Princess says, goes." Cain teased, eyes narrowing further - now they looked like two pitch black slits. He tuck one disobedient lock of gold behind his pointy ear, making the glass beads of his earring jingle in tone. "Just don't say I didn't warn you." He whispered with slight condescension, toying with the dancing little crystals. "My name is Kaajin, if you must know. I doubt you can spell it. It's in Lohemian." He suddenly stared at you as if in a challenge. "Does this change anything? Anything at all."
You shook your head - of course no. There was little your protector could do to make your feelings change; not when you had been so terribly alone without him. Not when he looked at you as if you were precious - breakable, yet precious.
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The days went by slowly. There was nothing there to help pass the time - just your voice and his voice blending together in the echo of the tower. Again and again and again.
"Entertain me." You asked authoritatively, looking at your friend from down below while you were sitting on the ground. You were bored - so very bored. "I don't remember ever signing up to be your personal jester, my Princess." Cain, no, Kaajin replied succinctly, showing off two pointy fangs - and you couldn't help recalling the story of the Sleeping Beauty and the spindle that sent her into deep, eternal slubmer. You wondered how his teeth would feel against your finger - and your throat. Whether they'd tire you or save you with the kiss of true love.
"Please?" You asked sweetly, just the way he liked - just like you had done that cold winter day in December when you first met face to face. It seemed to work, because soon after that you could feel him move through the room with a tired step - ever so dramatic, closing in on you. "Sure." The dragon breathed in your ear, enjoying the way the flesh quickly reddened with emotion. He reached behind the sensitive shell and slowly waved his fingers just short of your nose. In his hand just milimeters from you was hanging a thin silver chain with a little red rose dangling down. "Here. Have fun." He let it slip past his slender fingers and you swiftly reached to catch it before it could break in thousand pieces.
"What am I supposed to do with it?" You asked, puzzled - still looking at the delicate bracelet and the way it seemed to come alive under direct sunlight. "I am not a child." You suddenly puffed, stuffing it into the pocket of your long skirts. Kaajin only clicked his tongue, gently tugging at your wrist until you took it out of your pocket. "Don't be so ungrateful." His strict yet plush voice took you out of your little outburst, and you finally looked up. His eyes were measuring you up, scanning for any hidden movement - any secret emotion. "I am a dragon, remember? We tend to be awfuly protective of our things."
Your eyes filled with curiosity once again. "You mean your jewels?" He nodded rhytmically, trying to keep his composure at the mention of his old, forgotten customs. "I've read some stories about dragon kings stealing piles of golden coins and locking them away for all eternity. "You chuckled to yourself. "Like they could ever use them." Even after all those years you still found the thought amusing. Humans spent their youth slaving away so they could waste the money gained once they were old and wise. Dragons, on the other hand, were satisfied with holding onto wealth and jewels and all those shiny human things - with little understanding of the subejctive value they held in the human world.
"Yes. It's true indeed. Dragons-" Your guard nodded yet again, now somewhat uneasy. "We take good care of our..." He averted his eyes far away from you. "treasures." He finished stiffly, gaze basically burning the ground. "So you shouldn't take my gift lightly. You should wear it with pride. And perhaps in time you'd find another use for it, too." The man explained, a slight blush spreading across his usually high, cold cheeks.
You smiled gingerly, kissing your fingers around the chain before pressing it to your chest - close to your heart.
"I shall cherish it forever, then." You exclaimed, feeling warm inside. You were uncertain as to why, but your stomach was spinning wildly, as if filled with bubbles. "But you still owe me some fun." You giggled, running to start the old phonograph in the corner of the room. It was your favourite thing in the whole world - which didn't mean a lot up here, but it was enough to make your legs move on their own.
As you danced to Vaarlen's famous spring waltz, the air seemed lighter and the cramped hall just slightly more grandiose. It was easier to breathe. You extended your hand towards your dragon, asking him to join.
"You know I don't dance, princess." He grunted, his mood souring. He never told you why he hated it so much, but the man was never too fond of music. Still, you decided to try again. "Oh, come on. Just this once." He didn't seem convinced. "Let me teach you as a thank you gift. I'm serious." You tapped your chest playfully. The man rolled his eyes, then gently took your hand in his. You almost broke into a giddy giggle - for the first time since your family locked you up in the rotten tower you felt happy.
And he always gave into you.
So you two danced, both lost to the music and your own racing thoughts. Kaajin kept his distance, but his hold was strong onto your wrist - unrelenting, like he never wanted to let go. Your body twisted and turned, perfectly synced to the chords, blind to the pass of time. You only realized it had become evening once your back hit the window - it was dark outside. Yet another day gone. Yet another day lost.
"Kaajin..." You could feel the tears burning at your wet lashes before you could stop yourself. You had promised yourself not to think about it anymore - not today, or ever for that matter, but it was impossible once you were faced with the Creator of All. The Master of everything, of everyone - time. How could you ever pretend otherwise?
"Do you think-" You bit the inside of your cheek, your hands fighting the guilt as you let go of his. "Do you think my father would ever let me go into the outside world?"
The guard gulped dry, taking a step back to give you space.
"I-" He took a deep breath, gaining the courage to look at you. "I don't know. The war is still going. Your kingdom has lost many brave men and women. Even the strongest soldiers are starting to capitulate." He couldn't bear to look at your pretty face all messed up by the pain and sorrow, but it was for the best.
"I understand." You muttered, turning your back to him - curling back into yourself. You felt his arms wrap around you, and you remained quiet - neither fighting it, nor embracing it. "Don't cry, my princess." The man whispered. "No matter what happens, I will always be by your side." He meant it. You knew it by now, and that only made it all the more tragic. "I swear on my life." You believed him, you had no reason not to - he was the only one you had left.
As for your father, he couldn't really give a proper order now, Kaajin thought. After all, dead men tell no tales.
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astroboots · 11 months
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Stitches and Claws
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x female reader
Summary: You find yourself in a compromising position on your knees when you help stitch up Miguel's wounds.
Content: Blowjob, riding cock, overstimulation, fangs and claws. Miguel kind of likes his horniness with a little bit of pain? Just a smidge.
Word Count: 3.3k
Astroboot’s Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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"Miguel, can you please just relax?"
"I am relaxed," comes the sharp reply, as he glares down at you. Jaw so tense, you're surprised his molar teeth hasn't cracked under the pressure.
Your hand comes to his knee, as you spread them wider, and you can feel the plane of his thighs tense underneath your palm.
Yeah, the man is anything but relaxed.
Miguel is still in his suit. Skin covered in dark blue and red. The only part of him not covered in the fancy spandex (and if he heard you call it that he'd be livid, cause it's Unstable Molecule fabric, not spandex) is that scowling face of his and a small patch on the inside of his left thigh. An area the size of your hand that's bare, revealing his tanned skin underneath and a nasty looking injury.
You poise the needle in your hand against the gaping wound. You don't even get the chance to make skin contact with the tip before he's hissing at you like some damned feral cat.
"I haven't even touched you yet. This is going to hurt a hell of a lot more if you keep fighting me."
You probably sound more than a little bit irritated, because this position isn't exactly comfortable. The hardwood floor is digging into your knees, and with hindsight you should've taken the cushion he'd offered you before.
God, up close, that wound look really bad. Four inches in length, red and angry. You're not a doctor. You don't know why the hell you agreed to do this. For all you know you're going to get the wound infected or worse.
"Miggy, I don't know about this, don't you think it's better go to a hospital. What if it gets infected? You'll end up with gangrene and then we'll have to amputate it and then what?"
"That's not going to happen. It's a tiny cut."
"Fine, but I'm not a medical professional and I'm probably gonna make it scar to shit."
"So it'll scar. It'll be your permanent mark on me."
"I'm worried I'm going to mess this up".
"No", he says, shaking his head. "I trust you."
Your cheeks warm at the words, barely able to look him in the eyes after he's said it.
Fuck, he'd have to go and pull that card didn't he?
With a big sigh and bigger reluctance, you dip your head down as you pierce the needle through the skin, threading it across. There's a muffled pained noise from above. The leather of your armchair squeaks as he grips it tight.
A sympathetic ache tugs in your chest at his pain and your hand still against his thigh. "Do I need to stop?"
"No, keep going," he bites out through gritted teeth.
From the corner of your eyes, you catch a glimpse of the pointed edges of his corner teeth protruding against his bottom lip. It's hard to keep your hands still when your fingertips tingle at the sight of them.
Jesus, you need to get your head out of the gutter. This is hardly the time. You persevere, dipping back down for a better view, so you can sew up the gaping wound as best as you can, ignoring the warmth of his firm thighs that are caging you in at your sides.
You try to pretend you don't hear the strained noises he's making. (Noises that are much too similar to the ones he makes when he's the one between your thighs). Practically bury your head into his thigh so you can no longer see the way his broad chest heaves or how he bites down hard on his lip when you make another stitch.
"Stop, stop!" he demands.
His hand grips down hard on your shoulder, pressing you backwards, but you ignore it, because the needle is already halfway through his skin, and for a man who is constantly battling supervillains on skyscrapers with jetpacks and regularly crashes into skyscrapers, he can be such a baby sometimes.
"Miguel, stop, I need to--"
"Enough!" He growls, his hand pushes more insistently, determined to pry you off him until your ass lands on the hardwood floor behind you.
"Let me do it myself."
Let him? Let him?! As if you had forced him to make you do this? This asshole. Swear to god! He's the one who came home in this state, plonked his dumptruck ass in your chair and asked you to help him. He's the one who sweet-talked you with his: "I trust you," when you had soundly suggested he go to the hospital.
He's always like this. Running hot then cold. Asking you to help, then pushing you away in the next second. It's a miracle you don't have permanent neck injuries with the metaphorical whiplashes he keeps giving you.
You drag your eyes upwards, the way he's hunched on himself in your chair, covering his thigh. His face is turned to the side away from you.
You don't know why he's being so unhelpful about this.
Stitching up your superhero boyfriend with a $10 Amazon sewing kit isn't your idea of a perfect Saturday night. But now that you've started you need to finish up with the stitches, you can't just leave it as it is.
"I'm sorry that I went too rough. If I hurt you, I can go slower, okay?"
He doesn't answer you, just drags one large hand over his face. It's only then that you notice that his ears and bits of his cheeks are flushed a darker shade of red than the tanned tone of his hand.
"That's not the problem I'm having," he mutters.
"Well then, can you tell me what the problem is?"
No answer.
Leaning forward, you place your hand back on his knee. That finally seems to get his attention and he removes his hand.
"You said you trusted me right? So let me know what's wrong so I can take care of you. Please?"
For all his obstinate stubbornness, Miguel is just as susceptible as you are to that card. He groans dramatically, collapsing back into the chair with a defeated expression on his face.
His legs shift in the chair, spreading outwards. The arm draped across his lap falls away, and the tight fit of his supersuit does absolutely nothing to disguise the shape of his cock, hard and heavy under the clinging fabric.
Oh. oh.
Clearly you’re not the only one being affected by the forced proximity of this situation.
"See the problem?" he says.
You look up and his eyes flicker away sheepishly. If you didn't know better, and if it wasn't for the scowl still plastered on his face, you might've mistaken him for being embarrassed. If you didn't know better, you might've made the mistake of calling him cute.
You ache between your thighs at the sight of him. But even though there's nothing more you'd like than leap into his lap and fill that ache with every inch of him, there's other priorities right now.
Crawling forward, you shoulder your way back between his thighs and settle there.
"Let me finish," you insist. "If you let me finish, then I'll help you with your problem."
It's an uneven bargain to say the last. Because the reward you're offering him, is something you want more than your next breath, and you have to bite back the 'ohthankyousweetjesus' on the tip of your tongue, when he gives you a small nod to seal the deal.
Maybe it's your newfound incentive, but this time as you pinch the needle between your fingers to stitch him up, it's a swift and efficient ordeal. You refuse to allow yourself to get distracted, eyes focused on your goal, even as you hear him groan above or shift underneath you. Not until the last stitch is done.
When you finally let yourself tilt your head back up. His eyes are pinned on your face, and you can see now that the familiar brown shade replaced by a red tinge.
Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, and you try to keep your eyes fixed on his, holding the contact as you lean forward. Anticipation rides heavy on your spine, as your mouth inches forward, until your lip press against the thin fabric of his crotch, and you nuzzle against the rigid shape of him.
The leather of your chair creaks, and there's a rip. From this angle your view is a bit obscured, but you catch sight of his hands, the firm unforgiving grip he has on your poor armchair. The extended sharp talons piercing through the soft leather in his excitement.
All you hear from above, is a breathy, "Fuck", then the thin fabric separating him from your mouth disintegrates, the dark blue fabric making way for his tanned skin underneath.
Then he's right there. Bare and naked for you to touch. His cock jutting upright between his thighs. He's ruddy and flushed, the fat tip of him glistening with precome that wells from the slit that you can practically already taste on the tip of your tongue.
Your mouth salivates as you part your lips to take him.
To call Miguel thick is an understatement. It's a struggle to fit him in your mouth, your jaw strain with the effort as you slide him further down. As deep as you can, until the blunt tip nudges against the back of your throat and you have to swallow around him in a panicked fit to suppress the reflexive gag pushing back in you.
It's always the hardest the first time. Your mind and throat instinctively fighting you, as you try to swallow down the intimidating girth of him.
"Take it slow nena," Miguel rasps from somewhere above. His voice is a slow and melted hum that drips sweet and honeyed in your veins, and that helps.
You take a deep inhale from your nose, taking in the familiar musky scent of him, and feel your throat relax around him, accommodating to his thickness.
Your thighs ache with arousal. Panties wet and slick as you clench down around nothing. Everything is tightly wound inside you. Your stomach heavy with the dizzying heat as the weight of him rests so fucking perfectly on your tongue.
It's all you can take. You shove your fumbling fingers between your thighs, tugging at the edge of your panties until the obscene wetness greets you and drag it up against your clit.
Relief and pleasure surges through your head, filling your veins with the sensation and you rock into the palm of your hand seeking for more of your own touch.
"Are you touching yourself?"
Your fingers still at the question. You're not exactly embarrassed, it's not like you're doing anything wrong, but you feel sheepish all the same at being caught.
You pull off his cock, letting it slide between your lips and when you finally look back up, he's staring down at you with a dark hunger in those otherworldly crimson eyes like he wants to eat you whole.
"Fuck, come up here," he directs, but you ignore him. Tongue lapping at the tip, savouring the heady taste of him as you run the flatness of your tongue down the length of him.
"Nena," he bites off impatiently. "Up!"
He doesn't wait for your reply this time. So fucking impatient this man.
He's already lunging forward, arms circling your torso as he pulls you up and into his lap with an impressive ease. His arm comes to your thighs, rearranging you to his liking in his lap, one large hand gripping his cock as he positions you above.
"Sit on my cock, nena. Ride me."
Your eyes flit to the poorly stitched up wound on his thigh that looks flimsy to say the least.
"Won't that hurt you?"
His head tilts, brow arching with that sardonic expression of his as if he doesn't see what the problem is. "And?"
This is such a bad idea. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you wanted to stop now. Instead you settle on a compromise to ensure that you can at least limit the potential damage on him.
"You have to stay still for me, or you'll tear the stitches," you warn.
He nods perfunctorily in agreement and you don't think he's even listening to you. No surprise there, Miguel has never been the best at listening to yours (or anyone's) instructions. He'll do what he wants as he sees fit.
But you can't find it in you to stop. Not when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, and the velvety smoothness of it twitch in your grip. Not when you notch the tip of his cock to your slick entrance and can feel yourself dripping down his length.
The only thing you care about is to have him inside you.
You lower yourself onto him, sliding down, inch by maddening inch, as that thickness stretches you to your limits and white hot pleasure invades every one of your cells until you feel drunk on the sensation.
"That's it," he encourages, with a sharp inhale, hand gripping to the sides of your hips. The honed edge of his talons gripping into your flesh, but never breaking the skin.
Your thighs are shaking as you inch down on him until they are pressed flush to his hips, and his cock is kissing that perfect spot deep inside you that has your vision whiten. Thick and sweet.
As promised, he doesn't move. Even though you can tell from the muscle twitching in his jaw, that there's nothing more he wants than to flip you over and thrust into you hard and deep until you're screaming his name with a force that makes your lungs burn out.
You lift your hips, savoring the sweet drag of his cock against your cunt, slow and unhurried until only the blunt tip of him rests inside you and stay there.
"Nena," Miguel says, and the nickname on his tongue sounds like a warning.
He's not a fan of the slow pace you're giving him apparently.
But you've never been one to heed his warnings. Instead you slide down on him, just as slowly, letting his cock fill you at a leisurely pace and it is fucking heaven.
You still as he bottoms up inside you, before you do it all over again. And again. Then again. To each grumpy groan of his that's mixed with pleasure and impatience. Then you do it again.
It's only a matter of time before his short-spanned patience snap. You can practically see it in the furrowed line of his thick brows, as you raise yourself up on his knees. His sharp canines bites down on his bottom lip, breaking the skin and that is all the warning you get before his arms wraps tight around your ribs, knocking the very breath out of your lungs.
Miguel's arms pushes you down flush on his cock, it's strong and demanding. A stubborn grip until he makes sure you've taken all of him to the root. It's blinding you with the force of it, and all you can do as he buries his face, sharp teeth poised at your shoulders, is whine.
Good, it feels so fucking good. The sweet ache of his cock filling every inch of you. You can't think anymore.
You try to raise yourself again on his cock but you wobble, the muscles in your thighs screaming in protest and gives under, unable to lift yourself back up again.
Fuck, you don't know if you can move anymore.
In a split of a second, Miguel straightens up and pulls you into his chest. "So pretty, nena," he groans into your skin, while he ruts up and into you, fucking his cock deeper.
You should probably scold him. Try to stop him somehow, so that he doesn't rip the tenuous stitches on his wound. But you can't bring yourself to open your mouth. Not when it feels this good. Not when aching pleasure is pulling you down under and robbing you of your breath and every word in your vocabulary.
"You feel so fucking good. Stretched so tight around me. Just so fucking pretty when you take my cock."
The sharp edge of his fangs skirts gently across the soft flesh of your throat, and sets every nerve in you alight. Every part of you tingles. From the tip of your fingers to the curl of your toes. That telltale warmth and heat coiling in your stomach and spreads outwards ratcheting up to a fever pitch.
Your orgasm breaks. It rushes over you, hard and punishing. Your body shakes, thighs tensing and your heart is beating hard and fast into a gallop in your chest. You shake and tremble in his lap as it courses through your veins. Lungs squeezed painfully tight as the sweet bliss of it invades your ribs and you struggle to catch your breath.
You still feel it, rushing and pulsing from your stomach down your thighs, it doesn't even have a moment to properly subside.
Miguel doesn't stop. His hands are already on your waist, lifting you up and almost off his still hard cock and you gasp at the shift in pressure inside you. You're clenching down around the fat tip of him reflexively, and there's no time to adjust, no time to think, next thing you know, he lifts his hips while pushing you down on the length of his cock. All in one swift, and harsh, unforgiving motion.
It's so much, too much. You whimper at the next thrust, the whole of your body wracked in shivers as the sensation overfloods your brain. As good as if it feels, you don't know if you can't take much more.
"Keep going, don't stop. I know it's hard nena. I know you're sensitive." he coos, his hands are gentle on your hips, guiding your movements, but for all his sweet cajoling words, and for all that you're struggling he's not easing up.
"Keep going. Keep squeezing my cock like that and I'll fill you up. I'll fill you up with every drop of me."
He keeps encouraging you, as if you have any other choice but to take his demanding thrusts. As if there is anywhere for you to go with how firmly he's holding you to him.
Fuck you can't, you can't-- oh fuck, you're--
Your arms scramble to grab onto something, anything, fingers digging deep into the firm muscles underneath.
It's chaos.
He thrusts up again. Deep and demanding and your brain shortcircuits.
Sharp electricity surges through your spine and it is blinding. All you can do is hold on to him, to claw on and hold for dear life, or you're pretty sure you're gonna fall off the edge of the earth into oblivion if you lose your grip.
Distantly, you hear him hiss in your ear, feel his hips stutter up against yours, cock pulsing inside of you, but you're too far gone to piece it all together.
All you know is that you're coming again or maybe you never stopped and this is that first orgasm still wreaking havoc on your body. Maybe it'll never stop. The sensation feels like a punch to your gut, consuming and all at once. Your eyes must cross behind your head, because your vision goes dark and blank, wiped clean of thoughts. The room seems to tilt, and crash then disappear. There's no weight to your limbs, and your thighs are so numb, you're not even sure they are there anymore. Your body is not your own.
When you come to, you're still perched on his lap. You feel like wrung out and boneless, body spent and broken. His arms wrapped around your torso the only thing that's keeping you upright.
The arms of your leather chair have been scratched up to hell. Long claw marks brandishing each side.
He looks like an absolute mess. Brown curl a deranged mop on the top of his head, sheen of sweat over his tanned skin. But he looks good, messy. Looks fucking beautiful in a way that has your chest squeeze tight when you gaze at him.
Miraculously, the stitches on his thigh has held up somehow and you feel more than a little ounce of pride of your own sewing skills at the feat.
Your hands slide off of him from where they're still gripping on tight onto him and Miguel's eyes follow the motion to his biceps where your nails have broken through skin. The tiny crescent marks looks red and raw and painful.
"Shit, Miggy I'm sorry."
He blinks up at you, eyes a little bit dazed before he breaks out into a smile. He raises his arm and looks at the mark with a pleased and admiring expression one filled with pride.
"I hope it leaves a scar," he says.
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Dedication & Credits:
For @thirstworldproblemss who had to listen to me figure this one out, I'm still trying to find my voice for Miguel so sorry if this is a bit clunky for you.
Also dedicated to @guruan whose artwork literally inspires me to write/think/breathe smut 24-7 like a 7-eleven store. It's always open for slut business here. This artpiece with the spread thighs definitely inspired this oneshot.
I don’t have a tag list but please follow me on astroboots-writes and turn on notifications to be notified when I post something new!
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writingoddess1125 · 8 months
Text
You take care of their hair
You x One Peice Characters
Support me on Ko-Fi
Luffy, Buggy, Mihawk, Sanji, Zoro, Usopp
Buggy
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Buggy hair is long and truthfully very beautiful. He takes pride in it secretly even if he doesn't let anyone know- When you get there and start taking care of his hair it flourishes.
"You have such pretty hair!" Yoj gush as you moisturize the long blue locks
"SHUT UP!"
He is like a l'oreal model at this point and will step out to do shows with his hair down sometimes. Loves it when you wash his hair too and will make cute noises when you scratch his scalp. Enjoys the nice scents you add to his hair as well.
"Oi- I like the Candy Apple scent more-"
Sanji
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Oh Sanji is a sap for this, Taking your willingness to care for his hair as a show of love- however that's for you to decide if it is.
"If this is how we say we love each other I gladly accept~"
His hair can be a bit tricky, It's a lot thicker then most would assume and can hold scents of whatever he was cooking. Paired with the fact his hair will be lighter on top compared to the bottom due to the sun bleaching it. However he does love it and finds cleanliness important.
"Vanilla please my love~"
Luffy
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He is a struggle- Getty Luffy lanky ass in the bath is a pain in the ass and washing his hair is even more troubling. His wide curls like just act as a magnet for everything it seems and you have to go picking through it.
"Is this a damn cookie?!"
Once you get his hair to be a untangled it's really pretty. Dark shiny curls that reflect the sunlight like a halo. While he still fussed he's more willing as time goes. Will randomly talk about whatever comes to mind, or eat snacks as you comb through his hair.
"I like the Ocean Breeze soap more (Y/N)"
Zoro
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Oh Zoro- He tries to dodge you every chance he gets. It takes you catching him when he was hiding in the storage closet and ended up falling asleep.
"You smell like a barn- Move you ass..." You will threaten. Making him grumbled but comply non the less.
He's just as bad as Luffy but will just sit and pout as you wash his hair. Luckily it's short but it can get very oily- especially with how much he trains. You will also help him trim his hair, keeping it as even as possible. While he doesn't say it, he does appreciate the care. Will fall asleep as you do his hair.
"Mint- Mint is fine..."
Usopp
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While you do wash his locs for him most of your time is spent separating and retwisting them. Buying good oils for his hair and spending a least and few solid hours retwisting the new growth on his hair.
"How does your hair grow so fast?!"
You question as you sort through the locs one by one and every two weeks washing them and reapply products to them. Usopp appreciates the help truthfully, since it takes away something he has to do for himself. He will tell stories as you do his hair, talking about made up adventures and tell jokes.
"Hmm I am tied between the Coconut scent or the Passionfruit both remind me of this amazing adventure I had once-"
He picks both.
Mihawk
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Mihawk is used to doing his own hair, smoothing it back to fit under his had with ease. However when your jolly ass appears it seems you must take control of the situation.
He doesn't mind however, enjoying the pampering. Enjoys the sensation of you running your fingers through his hair. His Hair needs some serious moisture so you add a small bit of oil to it, Especially since his hair is surprisingly thick, dense and likes to frizz. It's not surprising to find some fuzzies from his hat in his hair as well.
"Your hair spikes up so much- Like a chicken ass-"
Will grumble in disagreement of the comparison however continues to let you handle his hair, will also take care of his beard and adds nice beard balms as well as line it up for him- If he feels like letting you. Will read while you do it and sip his favorite wine.
"The bergamot scent is very nice-
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angelltheninth · 3 months
Text
All That Heals is a Little Romance
Pairing: Luke Castellan x Daughter of Demeter!Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, injury, healing powers, kisses, flirting, smug Luke Castellan
Word count: 0.6k
A/N: Final commission of this batch! Might open them again soon.
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As the daughter of Demeter it was your job that those who got seriously hurt in the Camp got the best help they needed. It was a tough job but it was your calling, you liked doing it, brining a smile to someone's face, making them feel better, or chastising them for making really stupid mistakes that got them hurt. "What were you thinking Luke? Running up a wall?! And for what?"
You carefully took his shoe off, cringing when you saw how swollen his ankle was from the sprain. That wasn't his only injury either, there were small thorn-like cuts all over his arms and face too.
"I wanted to see if I could so it without the wings." This is exactly the kind of stupid stuff that you, and he, have advised others against doing.
"And why exactly did you do something so dumb?" You suspected you already knew what he'd say to that. But who knows maybe he'll surprise you.
"I know they're all watching." The 'they' never referred to other members of Camp Half-Blood.
You sighed and started massaging his ankle, trying to feel for any cracks. Luke grunted in pain every time you pressed down but nothing seemed broken or out of place. "Nothing's broken." You would need to bandage it just in case he doesn't heed your warning, "You need to take it easy for a few days. No more stupid dares to impress the Gods. I know you want to prove yourself, we all do, in one way or another, but it shouldn't come at the cost of... you Luke."
Luke rubbed the back of his neck, having heard all this before. From you and his mentors and peers. You've all been given this talk at some point. It never made the burdens of your parentage any easier for any of you. Pretty words could only go so far.
"I'll try." That's what he always said.
"I mean it Luke. No more running around. Or else I'll have to tie you to the bed until you feel better."
Luke chuckled and wiggled his eyebrows, "That's kinda kinky. It's always you medics."
"Ugh. You pervert." You tightened the bandage a bit too tight for one split second before you eased up on him. "Okay. Don't put pressure on this if you don't have to. I'll give you some healing cream I made. It doesn't smell the best but put it on your ankle every nigh before bed and give it a few minutes to get absorbed."
Luke made a disgusted noise when you brought out the small container with the cream, "Yes nurse." His nose relaxed the moment you booped it.
"Okay. I'll know if you lie to me Luke. You know I will. Now, for your other injuries. They're not as bad so... lean back a little." The demi-god looked skeptical of your plans but listened anyways, knowing it was pointless to argue with you when you worked.
As soon as he sat back on the bed you sat in his lap and kissed one of his small cuts, healing it instantly. "Oh! Now this is the kind of medicine I like!"
"I knew you would." You rolled your eyes to humor him and gently cupped his face. "There's a lot of these so we might be here for a while."
"Yeah but it's all about making the patient feel better right? That's what you said." Luke placed his hands on your hips and smiled smugly at your now slightly flustered face.
"You're lucky I'm your girlfriend or else I would have kicked you out for that bad joke." You leaned in again, your kiss healing his next cut. You lost track of how many there were, or how long you've been doing your job, but this was one more part of it that you could wholeheartedly say you loved.
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7ndipity · 3 months
Text
Sweet Morning
Yoongi x Reader
Summary: Just a lil thing about Yoongi looking after his S/o when they wake up sore after a particularly intense night together.
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: slightly suggestive, implied smut, implied drinking, swearing, mentions of bruises, bathing? not proofread
A/N: I’m back! Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I decided to stick with Yoongi for this one, but if you’d like similar blurbs for the other members, let me know! This turned out a lot softer(and longer) than I planned, but I couldn’t help it, I love sweet caregiver Yoongi 🥺(also, I wrote part of this at like 4am, so I’m sorry if it’s eh)
Masterlist
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At first, you thought the late morning sunlight was what woke you, managing to shine through a gap in the curtains directly in your face and pulling you from the cozy cocoon of sleep. The shifting weight of the bed behind you though proved otherwise, a sleepy grin spreading across your face as you felt a familiar pair of arms slip around your middle, a set of warm lips leaving a trail of soft kisses along your bare shoulder.
“Morning.” Yoongi rasped, his voice somehow even deeper first thing in the morning.
You hummed contentedly, memories of the night before flickering back through your mind as you stretched.
Yoongi’s lips somehow never leaving yours for more than a moment as you’d fumbled through the front door and to the bedroom, clothes hastily discarded in your wake, tasting the whiskey he’d drank at dinner on his tongue. Falling back on the bed with him, desperation making each touch somehow feel a thousand times more potent, swallowing each other's moans as you rode out wave after wave of pleasure til you were both too exhausted to continue, falling asleep still clinging to one another.
Yoongi’s feather light touches pulled you back to the present, in stark contrast to the night before as his lips drifted up the side of your neck.
"What time is it?" You asked sleepily.
“Late, but I have the day off.” He murmured, pressing a kiss to the faint purple mark that was forming just below your ear. “What do you want to do today?”
“I think this is pretty good,” You replied happily, rolling over to face him, but pausing midway as you winced, hissing slightly at the pain in your lower half.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, brow furrowing in concern.
“I’m just a little sore from last night.” You said easily, trying to pull him in to connect your lips, but he pulled back, looking down at you with growing alarm.
“Did I hurt you?” He asked, sounding horrified.
“What? No, Baby, I’m fine.” You quickly tried to convince him, but he sat up, gently tugging the blankets away from your body.
“Fuck.” He whispered.
Your skin was littered with hickeys and marks from him, some faint and barely discernible, others blooming in deep shades of red and purple.
He didn’t remember leaving so many marks, but when he was with you, it was like his brain shut off. All he could remember was the taste of your skin and all the sweet noises you made every time he’d dragged his teeth across your flesh.
His frown deepened as his eyes landed on the marks that decorated your hips and thighs, faint imprints of his fingers evidence of his vice-like grip on you from the night before.
He traced a finger over the marks, causing you to wince slightly, shivering from sensitivity. His attention snapped back to your face.
“Fuck.” He repeated, looking at you sadly. “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Yoongi, I’m okay, really.” You tried to reassure him, trying not to grimace as you sat up, but he just shook his head.
“I shouldn’t have been so rough with you.” He said.
“I wanted you to be rough.” You reminded him, catching hold of his hands to pull him closer. “Did you once hear me complain last night?”
He shook his head again.
“Exactly, because there was no reason to. Everything about last night was amazing.” You said, caressing his face gently. “You made me feel so good, you always make me feel so good."
He smiled faintly in spite of himself, leaning into you instinctively as you kissed him, his lips dropping back into a frown as he felt you wince again as you tried to press closer to him.
He pulled away, looking at you softly.
“Wait here.” He said, climbing off the bed.
You did as he asked, sinking back into the covers as your eyes drifted closed.
You couldn’t lie, as much as you might have enjoyed the night before, you were beyond tired, your whole body feeling heavy and achy.
You had nearly fallen back to sleep before Yoongi returned, smiling down at your sleepy form for a moment before rousing you gently.
“Come on.” He said, tugging you up from the bed.
He helped you up slowly, wrapping an arm around your waist for support as he guided you to the bathroom, the scent of lavender enveloping you as you stepped through the door.
He’d prepared the bath just the way you liked, even setting a few of your favorite bath bombs out for you to choose from, as well as lighting a few of your favorite candles to further set the mood.
“What’s all this?” You asked, looking at him in surprise.
He didn’t answer right away, focusing instead on helping you slide in, smiling at the way your eyes fell shut as you sank into the warm water.
“Feel alright?” He finally spoke.
“Mmm.” You hummed, looking up at him expectantly. “Aren’t you getting in too?”
“I can, if you want me to.” He said uncertainly.
“I want you to.” You said, shifting forward to give him enough space to sit behind you.
He slipped in quickly, letting you lay back against him as he grabbed a cloth and started to wash you.
Normally, you’d argue a bit with him, just for the hell of it, saying something about how you were perfectly capable of washing yourself, but you let it go this time, enjoying the feeling of his gentle touch.
“Do you feel any better?” He asked after a bit.
“Mhm,” You practically purred. “Thank you.”
“Thank you.” He replied.
“For what?” You glanced up at him quizzically.
He shrugged. “Letting me have you.”
You grinned.
“You know, you didn’t make it out of last night unscathed either.” You said, poking a mark on his neck, making him wince slightly.
“At least I can still walk though.” He said pointedly.
“I can walk!” You argued.
“Like a penguin.” He smirked.
“Yah!” You splashed him, making him laugh. “I thought you were being nice to me?!”
“I’m just trying to keep things balanced.” He said, kissing your temple. “I can’t spoil you too much.”
You pouted, making him chuckle.
“I love you.” he said, pecking your cheek.
“Love you too.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz
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woso-dreamzzz · 3 months
Text
Broken
Wonze x Child!Reader
Summary: You break your arm
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There's not really any other way Lucy can describe you but depressed.
With your arm stuck in a cast, you're severely limited in what you can do and you just kind of trudge after Keira.
The atmosphere in the house has been a bit frosty since the accident and Lucy knows it's her fault. She's the one that wasn't watching you on the climbing frame at the park until after the nasty tumble that had your arm snapping when you tried to put it out to stop your fall.
Keira's right to be pissed off at her but your own bad moods have noticeably worsened everything.
You cry a lot more now and you keep whacking your cast on things that wouldn't usually cause you pain.
"How's baby bear?" Georgia asks at breakfast one morning.
"Sad," Lucy replies sullenly," She can't leave Keira's side for even a minute. I tried to give her a bath yesterday when Kei was on the phone but she just cried the whole time. Her arm's been bothering her too."
Georgia makes a sympathetic noise, head turning to where you and Keira have just walked in.
It's not an uncommon sight now to see you in Keira's arms. You don't want to leave them almost as much as Keira doesn't want you to leave them.
You sniffle a little as Keira sits you in your usual seat between her and Lucy and you stiffly place your casted arm onto the table. What makes it worse, is that it's on your dominant hand so you're struggling a little bit to do everyday things like feeding yourself and drawing.
Lucy loads up your fork and shovels food into your mouth. Your appetite has been affected by your mood so it's always hit and miss how much you're actually going to eat for breakfast so she's hoping to get as much down you as possible before your mood finally catches up with you.
You turn away when you've had enough, pushing your food away and looking over at Keira.
"Bear," Lucy says softly," Don't you want to eat some more? You haven't eaten much."
"No, thank you," You say sullenly, moving to climb into Keira's lap, resting your head on her chest and curling yourself into her body.
Keira sighs as she rises from the table. "I'm going to see if Leah can cheer her up. I'll be back in second."
"Jesus," Georgia says as she and Lucy watch Keira go," You're right. That kid is so depressed. She's had that cast on for at least a week now. You'd think she'd have adapted by now."
"She will," Lucy replies, suddenly feeling defensive," She's getting there. It won't be long now. She's getting better."
"I heard she had to miss her friend's birthday party," Georgia says," Keira said she'd been looking forward to it."
Lucy sighs, pushing her food around her plate. "Yeah. It was the day after she broke her arm. Bear was pretty bummed at missing it."
"I can imagine. Being so sad doesn't suit her."
"Hopefully, Leah can snap her out of it."
No matter what Lucy's hoping Leah will do, it doesn't really seem to be working.
Auntie Leah's sitting with Beth from Arsenal and she's trying to get you to detach from Mummy but you refuse.
"Come on, bear!" Auntie Leah laughs," Don't you want to see this cute video I've got?"
You think for a moment. You really want to watch it but you don't want to let go of Mummy at all. Letting go of something was how you got hurt in the first place and Mummy's more sturdier than the climbing frame and you feel safer holding her tight.
She would never drop you.
She's your Mummy bear and you're her baby bear.
She's big and warm and safe and you press yourself further into her like you could melt into her skin and stay there forever.
"How about some chocolate?" Auntie Leah asks," You can hang out in my room with G and I and we can eat chocolate until our tummies hurt."
Normally you would agree with that. You love spending time eating chocolate with Auntie Leah and G but you don't really want to be away from Mummy and Mum. It's bad enough that Mum's across the room from you but you can see her so you know that she's safe.
"We can even watch Brother Bear!"
That nearly breaks you. Brother Bear is your favourite movie ever but Mummy and Mum don't really like screen time so you only get to watch it if you've been very good.
But, still, you'll give up Brother Bear if it means you can stay with Mummy and Mum.
You shake your head. "Want Mum," You whisper against Mummy's skin.
She sighs, resting her head on yours. "Okay, bear," She says, defeated," Let's get Mum."
When you get to Mum, she's whispering to Georgia, who smiles at you before scampering off to Auntie Leah.
"What are you two planning?" Mummy asks suspiciously as she sits in the seat that used to be yours.
"Nothing bad," Mum says quickly before her hand runs over the back of your head and you turn to look at her," How are you feeling, bear?"
"Itchy." You hold your casted arm out to her.
Mum's gotten good at scratching your cast itches.
"Itchy?" She echoes," Well, we can't have that!" She takes a small wooden spoon out of her pocket and starts tapping at the cast. The doctors told her that she's not allowed to let you put stuff down it in case it causes infections so hopefully the vibrations will knock out your itchiness.
It does for the most part and you flop your head back against Mummy when Mum is done.
"Thank you, Mum," You say.
"Of course, bear."
Lucy watches as G and Leah wander out of the room and awaits the text she knows is coming.
You get a bit restless doing nothing and Keira gently runs her hand through your hair to settle you against her again.
"Come on," Lucy says when she finally gets the text," We've got a little surprise, bear."
Your brow furrows in confusion but you don't put up a fight as you're taken back up to the bedrooms. You bypass Mummy and Mum's room in favour of going to Auntie Leah and G's.
Both of them are waiting for you.
Their beds have been pushed together to create a mega bed and their sheets have been made into a little nest with space for all five of you to curl up in.
There's bags of your favourite snacks and your favourite chocolate milk. The title screen of Brother Bear is paused.
You sniffle.
"Oh, no!" G says," Don't cry!"
"These are happy tears," Mum says, wiping them from your cheeks," Isn't that right, bear?"
You nod. "Happy tears."
"Are you ready, bear?" Mummy asks," We're going to have nice chill day with G and Auntie Leah."
"Ready."
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