#or proper noises when the characters are going through it

[quil12]

Hate the fact that I'm finally at the part of this fic that I have been thinking about writing for literal months at this point and I'm sitting in the break room at work on my lunch so I don't get to make little noises while I write

[theemporium]

[3.5k] married life has perks that you hadn't ever imagined. and it came with duties you never considered to exist in a totally fake, accidental marriage with a three time world champion who was not what he seemed.

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As stupid as it sounded considering he had messaged his confirmation, you hadn’t actually expected Max to show up. At most, you expected the question for your address was just going to be him sending the McDonald’s to you with a note saying ‘just this once’.

So when someone knocked on the door a little past ten o’clock, you really weren’t expecting to find Max standing on the other side with a bright smile on his face and two bags full of groceries in his hands. 

You stood there, dumbfounded and blinking at the world champion in front of you. “You were serious.” 

His brows furrowed together slightly like you were the one being out of character. “Yeah, I was,” he said, waiting a few moments before he continued. “So, are you going to let me in or—”

“Oh, yeah!” You flashed him a shy smile as you stepped to the side, pulling the door open a little wider as he stepped into your apartment. You made a brief, noncommittal noise and muttered something about a kitchen in the direction you waved your hand, but Max walked in the right direction almost like he owned the place. 

Like he knew his way around your apartment with ease. 

The thought shouldn’t have pleased you as much as it did.

You glanced down at your attire with a frown, your cheeks burning at your chosen outfit but, in your defence, you really hadn’t expected Max—or anyone—to come over tonight. The shirt was an old one of your father’s you had stolen from his closet many years ago, the pyjama bottoms were from a Christmas set your family had got a couple of years ago and your hair was pushed back from your face in some messy hair-do that probably wasn’t the most flattering.

And definitely not the outfit you would have chosen if you knew Max was coming over. 

But you pushed down the urge to grab a hoodie or a blanket or anything else to cover yourself up, and instead made your way towards the kitchen. 

There was something oddly domestic about the sight: Max standing by the counters, emptying the contents of the bags as he murmured away to himself like he was accounting for what he actually bought. He was dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants and a hoodie (a Red Bull one, unsurprisingly). His hair was messy, dishevelled even, like he hadn’t bothered to put any product in it today. 

You decided you preferred it much better like that.

“Are you okay with quesadillas?” 

You blinked, looking at Max with raised brows. “You can make quesadillas?” 

Max glanced at you over his shoulder, something quite like amusement shining in his eyes. “You say that like it’s a hard dish to make.” 

“I still burn toast,” you admitted with a shrug. “So anything that isn’t charred is impressive to me.”

Max snorted, almost like he thought you were joking. It was embarrassing that you weren’t, and almost impressive itself that you had managed to stay alive this long by yourself after you moved out of your mother’s house.

“Yes, I can make quesadillas,”  he said, finally answering your question as he began to move through the kitchen like he belonged. “It won’t take long, maybe thirty minutes at most.” 

“I may starve to death by then,” you whined, a playful tint to your words as you pulled yourself to sit up on the empty counter space on the opposite side of the kitchen from him. “McDonald’s would have been faster. And I would have eaten by now.”

Max turned to glare at you, his eyes narrowed. “You hadn’t eaten all day. I wasn’t going to let your first proper meal be McDonald’s.”

“And you said you wanted to be husband of the year,” you murmured, returning the glare and you could see his lips twitching upwards. “Plus, I was too busy to even attempt to cook for myself!” 

“Too busy to eat?” He questioned, not quite convinced. 

“I got wrapped up in my work,” you admitted, feeling your face burn as he watched you closely. You waited for him to get the same look on his face—the one your brothers’ or your mother always gave you—that screamed ‘I’m not mad, just disappointed’. But it never came. 

Much to your surprise—something Max had been doing consistently over the last few weeks—he looked intrigued, interested, fascinated. 

“What work was it?”

You told yourself it was a throwaway comment. That he was just being polite. 

“Are you trying to stall the fact you don’t actually know how to make quesadillas?” You teased, head tilted slightly to the side as Max smirked in response. 

“I can multitask,” he assured you. “I can listen and cook.”

“Max Verstappen? Being the listener instead of having people listen to him?” You let out an exaggerated gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Now, that is just unheard of.”

Max rolled his eyes, though you didn’t see the fond action. 

“Maybe everyone else just isn’t interesting enough to listen to,” he stated simply as he began to work, collecting the vegetables he had chosen and taking them to sink to wash. 

You watched him closely. “And I am?”

“Always,” he said, flashing you a smile over his shoulder before his focus returned to the food.

Despite his offer, you changed the conversation to something that was…well, more of a two way conversation rather than you talking about yourself and your work uninterrupted. Though, you pushed down that kernel of something warm and fuzzy and kept it hidden safe, even if his words were just a polite offer covered in sweet words. 

Around forty minutes later, you sat beside the boy on the counter as you both happily ate your quesadillas, a bright smile on your face as he began to retell some old story about him and Charles back in the karting days. Once you had both finished, you took his empty plate and waved away his offer to wash the dishes as you assured him you had a dishwasher that did the job just fine. 

Your back was turned to him as you loaded all the dishes into the dishwasher, not seeing the way his eyes drifted to some papers hidden under a pile of magazines. 

“Did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“These drawings.” 

You froze for a moment before you turned around, finding Max spreading a few sheets across the counter. Your body burned in realisation when you noted they were some of your more recent designs, the ones that didn’t fit the pretty box your professors and teachers wanted, the ones that you liked to just draw for yourself in between projects.

“Those are nothing,” you waved him off, resisting the urge to rush over and snatch them from his hands like a mad woman. “Just silly, little—”

“They are amazing,” Max interrupted, the sincerity in his voice knocking the rest of the words from your throat. “Like, insanely good.” 

You put your focus back on cleaning up, trying to ignore the way your stomach twisted—almost pleasantly—at his words. You felt like you were moving in a trance as you cleaned down the counters and turned the dishwasher on before you made your way towards Max. 

His focus was still on the sketches, his eyes scanning every little detail like it was important for him to memorise it all. You don’t think anyone outside of your teachers had ever looked at your work with such…focus.

“They really are nothing,” you said to Max as you stood beside him, fingers tracing over the drawings like they were gentle strokes of a pencil. “Just some fun on the side.” 

“Charles mentioned you went to school for this. Fashion, no?” Max questioned, his brows furrowed together like he tried to remember the sliver of information he learnt about you years ago.

“Fashion designing and business management,” you said, letting out a sigh. “I love it, I do. It’s just…” 

His attention focused fully on you. “Just what?” 

“Constricting, I guess,” you admitted with a shrug of your shoulders. You turned to look at him, expecting judgement but there was nothing but understanding in his eyes. “I know in the long run these classes will help be but sometimes I just…”

“Want to do what you want?” Max finished, a small smile gracing his lips and it looked so pretty with his flushed cheeks. “I get the feeling.” 

“One too many team orders ignored?” You questioned, your voice light and teasing and you were glad when he laughed in response. 

“Something like that.” 

A few moments passed with neither one of you saying anything. It wasn’t silent, it never was in Monaco. There was still plenty of noise outside: cars revving, people laughing and cheering, the distant sound of music playing from some party who knows how many streets away. It was never quiet in Monaco, but there was something comforting about the blanket of outside noise when you were in your apartment with Max. 

“Come with me.” 

He had blurted the words out so suddenly that it took you a few seconds to realise what he said, what he was asking. You blinked once, then twice and still your brain was confused. 

“Come with you where?” 

He paused before his cheeks burned a light pink colour, like he realised he hadn’t given much explanation or context before he blurted the words out. He cleared his throat, his shoulders looking a little tense as he tried again.

“Come with me to the FIA ceremony,” he said and, if you didn’t know better, you would have sworn he was nervous. Max Verstappen—three time world champion—looked nervous. “I mean, you’re my wife and…stuff.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And I want you there.”

Your lips parted in surprise, taking a few moments before the shock washed away and the questions started. “I—don’t you already have someone as your plus one?”

He looked a little embarrassed when he shook his head. “I honestly planned to go alone.” 

Your heart lurched a little at the idea. “Don’t you have to tell them in advance?” 

“I’d say a few days is enough,” he replied, a small smirk on his lips once again as realisation dawned on you.

“Oh my god.”

Max frowned a little. “What—”

“I only have a few days to find something to wear!” You hissed, your eyes widening as Max let out a loud, boisterous laugh. You slapped his arm, a wave of panic washing over you. “Max, this is serious! I have nothing!”

Max tried to fight his laughter. “It’s not that big of a deal, you don’t have to wear—”

“Yes, it is a big deal! It’s the official ceremony! I am the world champion’s date!” You said, looking at him like he had grown another head. “Oh my god, I am going to have to go shopping tomorrow.”

Max’s nose wrinkled. “Please tell me husband duties end at quesadillas and don’t extend to shopping trips.”

...

...

“When you said to come visit you in Monaco before heading home for the holidays, this isn’t what I had in mind.”

The curtain pulled back enough for you to poke your head out and glare at the blond sitting on the purple velvet futon. However, Logan just stared back at you with an absolutely bored expression on his face.

“You said you didn’t mind what we did,” you argued back.

“That was before we knew we would be sucked into dress shopping,” Oscar muttered under his breath, his focus on his phone screen. However, Logan quickly nudged his ribs with the point of his elbow and the Aussie let out a hiss as he snapped his head up. “What? We are, like, the two worst people you could have brought with you.”

“And it’s not fair Arthur got out of it,” Logan added with a pout.

“Who else could I have asked?” You retorted, looking between both boys with an expectant look. “Plus, I want to spend some time with my best friends before Christmas.” 

“I know you are only saying best friends to butter us up but I have to say it’s working for me,” Logan admitted with a sigh, ignoring the way Oscar rolled his eyes.

“Charles likes his fashion,” Oscar supplied lamely before frowning. “But not…good fashion.”

“Understatement of the century,” you snorted before pulling the curtain shut again and surveying the pile of dresses you had dragged into the dressing room less than an hour ago. This had been your fourth shop of the day and you still hadn’t found anything to wear for the FIA ceremony. “I don’t think he would have taken so kindly to me asking him which dress he thinks Max would think I look the hottest in.”

“And we would?” Oscar grumbled.

“Is he still pissed?” Logan asked, ignoring the Aussie before you poked your head out and took even longer to get through the dresses. “I thought he was playing nice at the dinner with Pascale.”

“He did,” you confirmed with a nod, even though they couldn’t see you as you frowned at the orange dress you had just slipped on. Definitely not the right shade. “But he has also been forwarding me divorce lawyers and articles on American Marriage Laws.” 

“Yikes,” the blond muttered. “He really hates the idea of you being married to Max.”

“He is an overprotective brother, he always has been.” You sighed as you glanced at yourself before shaking your head, moving onto the next dress which was an odd shade of moss green. “I think a part of him just blames himself for not stopping everything back in Vegas, so he feels the need to fix the mess now.” 

“Do you wish someone had stopped you?” Oscar asked, genuine curiosity lacing his voice.

You paused, unsure how to answer. 

“It’s not like you could have stopped her, grandpa, you were in bed before the sun had even set,” Logan snorted, breaking the few seconds of silence as you stared at yourself in the mirror. 

“And where were you?” Oscar retorted. “If you were up, why did you not stop her?”

“I was busy myself.”

“Doing what?”

“None of your business, Piastri.” 

“Out making your own mistakes?” 

“Excuse you—”

“God, maybe it was a mistake to bring the two of you,” you commented as the curtain was pulled open again, and you stood in the entryway of the dressing room. You looked at them, your hands on your hips and a grin on your face. “If I had to guess, I would have said the two of you got married in Vegas with the way you bicker.” 

Oscar rolled his eyes. “As if I would marry him.”

“Uh, people would love to marry me,” Logan frowned before his attention shifted to your dress, his nose scrunching up in disgust. “Yeah no, puke green looks good on no one. Next!”

...

...

“Holy shit.” 

With the FIA Ceremony being held in Baku, it meant that you and Max had to fly his jet out to Azerbaijan the day before. You hadn’t even thought about the logistics of the trip until after you had bought the dress and Max had sent you confirmation that Christian had managed to book an extra room at the hotel so you didn’t have to share with him. 

It was incredibly stupid for you to be so nervous about the whole event when it wasn’t even about you. Yet, Max looked the splitting image of calmness as he sat across from you in the plane, tapping away on his phone as he played some stupid game Lando had got him addicted to.

His nerves remained calm once you landed, his hand on the small of your back as he led you towards the car that was designated with taking you to the hotel. He was a gentleman all throughout dinner as he kept one arm around the back of your chair as he indulged in small talk with Christian and Checo. He even walked you to your hotel room door—though it was next door to his—and pressed a chaste kiss on your cheek and walked towards his room before you could even say anything. 

Max Verstappen, three-time world champion, was completely unfazed by the fact he was about to step in front of hundreds of cameras with his new wife.

You, however, were two steps away from shitting yourself. 

You had practically clung onto Oscar the next day, needing a sense of normalcy before you had to start getting ready. Though, in an annoyingly predictable turn of events, even Oscar wasn’t fazed by the upcoming ceremony and the award he was about to collect himself. If anything, he found your freakout to be highly entertaining before the boring trophy ceremony began. 

You had paced up and down the hotel room more times than you could count as you rushed around, desperately trying to look as put together and elegant as a last minute invite could. Your heart had been in your throat in the minutes leading up to Max knocking on the door. 

And for the first time, he didn’t look so sure of himself. 

Max stood on the other side of the door—a sight that made your heartbeat pathetically fast as the memory of him showing up the other night at your apartment came to mind—with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands. He was dressed in a suit, his hair styled to perfection, and yet there was a flush on his cheeks as he took in your appearance. 

“Good ‘holy shit’ or bad ‘holy shit’?” You teased, though you tried to cover up your own doubt as you glanced down at the floor-length red dress you had finally picked after dragging Oscar and Logan to seven different stores around Monaco. 

“Good,” he breathed out, his eyes glazed over like he was in a trance as he took you in. “Definitely good.”

You didn’t even try to hide your grin. “You aren’t mad that it’s Ferrari red?”

“You could have chosen any colour and I’d still consider myself lucky that you’re standing next to me,” Max admitted, something sounding in his voice that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Before you could ponder for too long, the boy cleared his throat and quickly offered the bouquet to you. “I know a boring awards ceremony isn’t exactly an ideal first date but….here.”

You took the bouquet with a wide smile, leaning down to smell the flowers appreciatively before stepping back into the room to place them on your bedside table. “Thank you, Max, they are beautiful.”

“So are you,” he said it so quietly that you almost swore you made it up. 

You turned back to him, mouth open and ready to say something before you paused as you took him in, blinking in surprise. 

Max frowned. “What?” 

“Is that the same suit you wore last year?” 

Max glanced down at himself before shrugging. “Yeah, and the year before that. And the year before that. And—”

You blanched. “You wear the same suit every year?” 

“I don’t see why I need to get a new one every year,” Max argued back, clearing his throat a little. 

“Max, you’re a three-time world champion. You are going to collect your third world championship,” you continued as you walked back towards where he was standing. “You should be wearing something special to commemorate the day.”

“I won the championship weeks ago though,” he said, his brows furrowed together like he didn’t understand your point. “What’s the big deal about collecting a trophy?” 

“You made history this season,” you said to him, tilting your head slightly as though you were trying to size him up, trying to understand him. “You should be wearing something more special than a suit you’ve worn years in a row.” 

Max nodded like he understood what you meant but his lips twitched upwards in a smirk. “Next championship, you can design my suit then.”

You blinked once. And then again. 

“You would wear something I designed?” You asked, almost wincing at how soft your voice sounded when you spoke.

“Of course I would,” he said before he offered his arm for you to take. “You have a year, so you’ll have plenty of time to work on a good suit. One appropriate for a four-time world champion.”

You snorted, shaking your head. “And you’re so sure you’ll win next season?” 

“Oh, I know it, baby,” Max grinned back at you, and something about the way he smiled made him look so young and mischievous. “Maybe you can make one of your own designs for yourself as well. We could be matching.” 

“Maybe,” you said with a smile, letting the hotel door close behind you as you tried to pretend like your heart wasn’t thundering in your chest at his implication of doing this again.

...

liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 372,947 others

yourusername 3x world champion and great personal carrier. would 10/10 recommend this verstappen guy

view all 21,930 comments

maxverstappen1 the stairs were steep, you would have decked it

oscarpiastri you would have

yourusername i take my thank you back

user SHE WAS HIS DATE KWEBFKBEFJWEF

user omg this keeps getting better

user it's like a fanfic irl

user the tiktok povs could never

landonorris you are so-

yourusername what did i do now?

landonorris you told me you picked the papaya dress

yourusername i said that so you would shut up

landonorris your wife is bullying me maxverstappen1

maxverstappen1 good

user i can't believe this is real

user THE FACT SHE POSTED HIM WITH THE TROPHY TOO

user has anyone checked on charles?

arthur_leclerc he is currently breathing into a paper bag

user ARTHUR-

charles_leclerc i'm glad your loyalties still remain with ferrari

yourusername well it is RED bull so...

charles_leclerc i am blocking you

redbullracing our favourite wag!

charles_leclerc i am blocking you too

.

[pure-smut]

mine.

featuring: Kaji Ren x f!reader

contains: possessive!Ren, established relationship, doggy, creampie, marking, spanking, dirty talk

note: all characters are aged up to 21+!

MDNI | 18+ content

word count: 1.2k

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You didn’t think Kaji Ren would be a jealous boyfriend. After all, you two had been friends for years before you got together and he’d never shown any indication that he was jealous of your previous boyfriends - despite admitting he had liked you basically the whole time you’ve known each other.

So you don’t think anything of it when a guy from your college class approaches you one day. You’re in a coffee shop on campus, studying for an assignment while Kaji sits opposite you, headphones on as he plays with his phone. He likes to take you out on proper dates but most of the time you spend together is like this – companionable silence, doing separate activities together.

You don’t look up until a shadow appears over you, breaking you out of your studious fervour.

“Hey, y/n.”

You vaguely recognise him – Ken or Kai maybe? – but you’re not sure why he’s approaching you. Kaji doesn’t look like he’s paying attention, his ankle resting on his knee as he sits slumped back in his chair, lollipop in mouth.

“Hi,” you say without mentioning his name which you’re still wracking your brain to remember. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to interrupt.” His smile is friendly but you can see the nerves behind it. “Mind if I buy you a coffee?”

Ooooh.

Understanding dawns on you. Your eyes flick over to Kaji but he’s still looking at his phone as his thumb scrolls. You don’t know if he even heard over his music.

“I’m flattered, thank you, but I have a boyfriend.” You give him an apologetic smile.

“Ah.” Your classmate’s cheeks are tinted red but he holds his hands up. “Fair. Sorry, I didn’t realise.”

As he walks away, you glance at Kaji again. When he doesn’t look back, you shrug to yourself and go back to studying. It’s only when you go back to your shared living space later that Kaji says something. Or rather, does something.

You walk into the kitchen, about to check the fridge for snacks when you feel his hand on your hip, stopping you still. Kaji brushes the hair from your neck before planting a soft kiss there. You sigh and lean back against him, feeling his solid chest.

“Mmm, that feels nice, Ren,” you close your eyes, reaching behind your to card your fingers through his hair.

Kaji doesn’t say anything but his grip gets tighter on your hip, pulling your ass flush to him and his kisses get rougher. You feel his teeth nip at your neck before soothing it with his lips. His free hand tangles in your hair, pulling your head to the side to expose your neck further to him.

You’re already putty in his hands, sighing softly as he sucks bruising kisses against your skin.

“Marks have faded,” Kaji eventually mumbles, his lips never leaving your neck. “Need to give you more.”

Your eyes flutter open.

“Is this about that guy earlier?”

Kaji doesn’t say anything but makes an irritated noise so you can guess that's a yes.

The hand he had on your hip moves to the front of you, sliding under your dress to palm your clothed pussy. His rough kisses on your neck has got you wet already. The feel of you sopping for him makes Kaji’s cock strain against his jeans.

“Mine,” he says, his fingers snaking under your panties to play with your needy pussy.

You gasp, back curving as he strokes your clit, using your arousal to trace slippery circles around your bud. Kaji wraps his other hand around your throat, holding you to him as his fingers continue to nudge you closer to the edge.

“You understand me?” Kaji growls in your ear.

“Yours, Ren,” you whimper, your legs starting to feel weak.

To your dismay, he pulls his fingers away. The hand he has around your throat moves to the back of your neck as he pushes you down, bending you over the kitchen counter. You’re pinned in place by his strong grip but you hear him unbutton his jeans behind you.

Kaji hooks his fingers under your panties, pulling them to the side as he grabs the flesh of your ass. The sight of your bent over before him, your puffy lips glistening with your arousal makes all the blood rush to his cock. Kaji strokes himself a few times, eyes glued to your cunt, before nudging his fat mushroom tip past your lips. He presses up against your hole, feeling the tight ring of resistance.

“Who’s pussy is this?” Kaji’s voice is thick with need but he wants to hear you say it first.

“Yours, Ren.” You splay your hands on the counter, preparing yourself for what’s coming. “All of me is yours.”

A smirk plays on Kaji’s lips as he thinks of the guy from the coffee shop, how badly he’d want to be in Kaji’s position right now. But he can’t have you. You’re his.

“Mine,” he growls before slamming himself inside you.

You cry out at the sudden violation, your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Kaji keeps one hand on the back of your neck, holding you in place as he draws back. He loves the way your pussy grips his cock, pulling him back every time he withdraws, your needy cunt desperate to be full of him.

You whine as he continues to pound away at you, the thick veins of his cock dragging against your nerves, his fat tip reaching deep inside you. Not content with only marking your neck, Kaji takes his hand from your neck so he can land a hard slap against your ass cheek. You yelp at the sudden sting, your skin on fire, but your pussy responds, clenching around him.

“Fuck, don’t squeeze me so tight,” Kaji grunts. “Can’t fucking think straight.”

He slaps your ass again, leaving a bright red handprint that’s sure to bruise. Pleased, Kaji returns his hand to your neck, squeezing the sides of your throat as he fucks your harder.

His cock rubs against the sensitive spot inside you at a relentless pace, making your mouth fall open. You’re sprinting headfirst into an orgasm and Kaji can feel it, the way your plush walls hold him like a vice grip.

“Ren-!” you squeal, legs buckling as pleasure consumes you, rippling from your pussy through to the tips of your toes.

The feel of you creaming on his cock always encourages Kaji’s own orgasm. His eyes are glued on where his girth slides in and out of you, shiny with your combined juices. He watches the way your ass jiggles with each thrust, your lips tight around his cock.

“Fuck…” He pistons himself in and out of you as his own high overtakes him, knowing he gets to mark you on the inside as well. “Fuck!”

Kaji shoots thick ropes of cum deep inside you, coating your walls with his sticky seed. His cock twitches as he releases everything he has, not wanting to waste a drop even as it spills from your pussy.

Kaji pulls his softening cock free and tugs your panties back into place, enjoying the way his cum soaks through the fabric. You straighten to standing, Kaji letting you lean on him with your shaky legs. You catch him smirking at the purple bruises on your neck and touch them tenderly.

“Are they obvious?” you ask, the flesh still sore.

“Yeah,” Kaji says with satisfaction. “Definitely.”

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[wonysugar]

incredibly out of character of me to write something like this about yujin and quite frankly idk what came over me… BUT WALK WITH ME!

gp yujin thoughts!

cw : kinda breeding kink, heavyy puppy kink, subtle praise kink, this is probably kinda nasty in terms of detailing and description sorry y’all it’s like 2am HELPP i’m fighting demons right now

you look at these pictures and think “omg sweet girl.. she does no wrong.” and you’d be… so right actually she’d be the sweetest girlfriend ever i mean look at her SHE TAKES YOU OUT ON DATES EVERY WEEKEND AND BUYS YOU FLOWERS BEFORE PICKING YOU UP anyways

one random saturday, you ask her if you guys could simply chill at home instead of going out since you caught a cold prior to the hang out, to which she will, of course, happily oblige! she’s fine being anywhere as long as it’s with you aheheheh she’s so cute she’d start actually giggling at the mere thought of having to take care of a sick yn, making sure you’re okay and watching over you:(( sweet bby

one thing she wasn’t expecting, however, was to witness you getting surprisingly and strangely aroused by being pampered this much and having to take care of you in another way. or, actually.. more like having the roles switch and being taken care of instead! :]

she doesn’t know what to do when you’re kissing all over her and whining about how much you need to give her a reward for being so good to you. on one hand, she wants to be spoiled too and have you all to herself. on the other, she wants to tuck you back to sleep because you’re ill and deserve some good rest!! if things went according to plan, she wouldn’t even have thought twice about it and would’ve just given you tea to drink and force you to take a well-deserved nap..

but let’s just say that the dick in between her legs, very familiar traitor to yujin, had other plans.

honestly, with your soft hand palming her dick through the fabric of her jeans that was accompanied by the sweet things you whispered in her ear, it made it impossible for her to not want more.

so when you’re finally bouncing on her twitching cock cowgirl style whilst she lays back on the couch? oh well YESS~~

and one thing about yujin? oh she’s a sensory girlie i fear… poor puppy can’t enjoy having sex if she can’t hear and see every little thing that’s happening. from the soft moans and ‘good puppy’s escaping your lips and the way you’re bouncing up and down in front of her all the way down to the noise your skin makes when it’s slapping against hers due to her rough pounding and seeing you sneak a hand under your top to access your own chest, playing with your own nipples and getting off on her adorable vulnerability,,, or maybe she’s even paying close attention to the wet sound your pussy makes when it’s rubbing against the shaft of her hard cock, she’s watching it pump in and out of you and stretch you out:(( sometimes maybe even watch and hear it slip out on accident, listening to the ‘plop’ sound it makes on your stomach when it slaps it.. YES it’s frustrating and YES it’s also incredibly hot to her LISTEN—

it’s all sososo lewd to her,,, it makes her feel so filthy ouh it drives her crazy me thinks

also the consent check is THERE! she knows you’re sick, she needs to constantly make sure you’re feeling alright enough to continue and always reminding you that you can always stop whenever you feel overwhelmed she’s so soft i’m.

omg random thoughts about yujin nodding eagerly when you talk dirty to her,, “does it feel good, baby?” and she can only whimper and keenly nod as a response because she can’t speak coherent and proper sentences when you’re making her feel this good foekfnem SHE’S SENSITIVE OKAY

also i am a firm believer of her being a drooler i don’t CARE! she’s digging her nails into your naked thighs whenever she’s close to climax, looking up at you with glossy eyes, upturned eyebrows and a cute pout:((((( her mouth often agape when she does cum, it’s very common for her to drool all over her chin as she rides out her orgasm and shoots her thick load into your womb, getting too into it to even remember that she needs to PULL OUT WHEN CUMMING? listen SHE’S JUST A STUPID PUPPY LET HER LIVEE

and when it comes to the aftercare? oh it’s unmatched; you’re passed out, naked, on the couch next to her and she runs her hand through your hair, scratching it and giving you a scalp message cause she knows your head probably hurts from orgasming while having a cold… GUYS— [EXPLOSIONS]

[scatterbrainedbot]

I AM SPINNING I AM PACING I AM FULL ON FROLICKING IM SO EXCITED

@d1sc0rd1a THANK U FOR THESE TAGS

okayokayokayokay so pretty much all of these questions will be Officially Answered properly in the character design/intro pages im working on but also i am physically vibrating with excitement about the fact that you noticed all these details and i have very little self control so! lore dump time!!!

(minor tw for mentions of leos self-harm/self-destructive anxious behaviors and unhealthy coping skills)

- mikey does indeed have curly fur! i believe he would be considered a 'rex' rat (pictured on the left) for this trait? though the curls can be more easily seen on mice (pictured on the right). or, at least it seems that way. have not delved too deeply into the details of rodent genes and husbandry, but id assume its the same sort of mutation considering curly haired mice are also referred to as rex sometimes? either way hes a extra floofy bby 🧡

-as for raphie, unfortunately being more fluff and less shell than the average rapheal comes with its downsides. especially if you and your brothers occasionally encounter things like territorial dogs, hungry cats, or sewer crocodiles while exploring places ur dad said not supposed to go. (most of his scars will have more ninja related stories, but his ear i think got messed up from something very animal. probably around age 11 ish? old enough to sneak out from dads protection but young enough to not fully know how to handle himself alone against real danger. thankfully his ear injury looks worse than it actually is for the most part, as the damage was largely to the outer ear. his hearing wasnt super affected, except that he now has a bit of a harder time being able to track/pinpoint noises origins if its on his right side.)

-also yep! dons got some glasses that just clip/rest on the bridge of his nose! theyre mostly just for home use, as they do fall off if hes knocked around. in the field he has some goggles he tends to use (theyre helpful as they have multiple additional functions like heat-imaging, extra zoom/telescoping, and recording capabilities. but also theyll give him headaches if he wears them for too long without breaks). contacts are theoretically also an option but he absolutely hates the sensation of putting them in. so sometimes when hes tired he'll just not bother with either clips or goggles and just squint and struggle. leo hates when he does that lol.

-speaking of leo, he is def an anxious baby :) he has a few patches of fur missing on his hand cos he has the tendency to tug on it while hes thinking. he yanked and chewed on his own tail a lot when he was younger too, which is why when hes older he usually wears some wraps to cover the scars left from that behavior. he finds those scars specifically to be kinda embarrassing and shameful because they werent from any battle or life-lesson, just his own 'inability to control himself'. all of his brothers have repeatedly called him out on the fact that that is not a healthy way to think about his anxiety or mental health, but leo insists hes fine. hes kinda convinced himself that a proper warrior always has control over his own body* and his own thoughts, thus he should be able to just like willpower-brute-force his way into 'being better'. (this line of thinking pisses raph off so much he has to leave and go hit something)

Splinter also tries to talk him through some of that internalized guilt/shame/everything, but splinters very metaphorical, poetic, and indirect when it comes to talking about Big Things, which combined with how much leo gets caught in his own head, makes it kinda hard to gauge how much these talks actually help

*this is made extra fun considering leos also ftm trans, so he is faced with a body that fundamentally disobeys him perhaps more than the average rat-man.

-and im still going back and forth between a few species for splinter, but im leaning mostly towards an African Spurred Tortoise! they have these beautiful if kinda subtle geometric shell patterns and are the third largest species of tortoise in the world. the only thing that doesnt fit perfectly with Splints is that (allegedly) their lifespan in captivity is around 50ish years, whereas im p sure Tortoise Splinter is well over 75, probably closer to 90 when the boys are born and hes mutated into Old Man Papa.

but maybe hes just a particularly long lasting African Spurred Tortoise.

the Hamato family has taken very good care of him for many decades after all. :)

(well. until everything all fell apart, that is.....)

[satorusugurugurl]

L.O.M.L

Summary: On Late August day, you and Nanami go out to dinner, where you reveal a wonderful surprise.

Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader

Word Count: 5,682

Warning: angst, character death, mentions of blood, pregnancy complications, Shibuya incident, angst

A/N: I am so sorry. 🥲

The normal clanking of knives against plates, the murmur of conversation around you was nearly silent as you waited. With a glance around the bakery you and Nanami often visited, you spot your fiance walking in. He was sporting his blue down top, suit jacket resting over his arm, and tie off. His typical ‘off the clock' aesthetic. Honey-brown eyes glanced through the bakery before landing on you. His smile was soft as he hurried forward, avoiding other customers before bending over and kissing your lips.

“Hello love, don't you look stunning? You're practically glowing.”

“I'm just happy to see you!” Nanami chuckled, nodding as he slid into the booth across from you. “I hope you don't mind, but I ordered a drink for you already.”

“That’s perfectly fine, you know what I like.” Nanami yawned into the back of his hand. “I was thinking that perhaps we can go for dessert after this, maybe to that ice cream parlor you like.”

“Mhmm, I think that sounds like a great idea!”

“One iced green tea.” The young waitress sat the drink down before him, giving you a wink before she walked away.

Nanami looked up from the menu to thank the waitress for bringing his drink. Something caught his eye just as he turned his head to look at her. Sitting in front of him was a glass of iced green tea. It wasn’t in a glass but a baby bottle: bright blue lid, yellow teat, and measuring lines. Your fiance blankly stared at the baby bottle, looking at it as if it were a puzzle that could not be solved. The confusion in his eyes settled into a look of annoyance.

Nanami stood up, his eyes searching the restaurant for someone. “Kento?” You asked, confusion thick in your voice. “Babe, what in the world are you doing?” With an exasperated sigh, Nanami turned to look back down at you.

“I think a certain blindfolded freak followed us here.” The veins in his neck bulged in frustration over the prospect of Gojo being there.”I had a little mishap at work today. I didn’t realize the lid to my coffee wasn't secure enough. so when I tried to take a drink, it spilled down the front of my jacket.” Trying to imagine your ordinarily prim and proper fiancé with a coffee stain down his coat was a sight you were slightly intrigued to see. “Gojo thought it was the funniest thing in the entire world. He insisted that he invest in hundreds of sippy cups until I learned how to drink properly. It's a thing to tease me at work but another to do after hours. So, if you excuse me, I need to try to find a way to get through his infinity.”

Before Nanami could begin his manhunt, you gently grabbed his wrist, ceasing his momentum. “It wasn't Gojo.” You softly said, winning a puzzled look from Kento.

“If it wasn’t Gojo, then who was it?”

Your heart felt like it would explode from how fast it was beating against your rib cage. He needed to know. Nanami watched as you reached into your bag with trembling fingers, grabbing a rectangle box and sliding it in front of him. Your throat felt so incredibly dry that you took a sip of water to ease the burning sensation as Nanami picked up the box.

The whole world seemed to freeze when Nanami opened the box lid. Inside it, a pregnancy test with the lid secure. Nanami’s eyes trail to a blue positive sign in the center of the test. His eyes lingered on that blue plus sign; it seemed like an eternity before his honey-brown orbs slowly traveled to your face. He bore an unreadable expression; you weren’t sure if that was better than him freaking out or ten times worse.

“I-I—well, I was feeling a bit nauseated this morning, and I noticed I hadn’t started my period yet.” The bustling sounds of the busy bakery turned into a muffled noise as you stared directly at the table's surface. “So I figured I should check when you left for work this morning. I thought maybe it was just a stomach bug, something I would be over in twenty-four hours; I hadn’t expected it to be positive.”

“Love—”

“I know this isn’t part of the plan. We wanted to get married first and save up some money.” Thundering heartbeats pounded inside your eardrums, muting the outside world around you. “I’m sorry; I’m the one who suggested that we mess around when we were both drunk last month.”

“Love—”

“‘M’ so sorry. I know you would prefer for things to go differently and more smoothly. I ruined that for us.”

Thoughts of that drunken passion came flooding back to you. You both had one too many drinks at a work function. There had been a lot of kissing, necking, and fondling on the elevator ride back up to your hotel room. One thing led to another, and one condom-less sex session later, you found yourself pregnant with his baby. Something neither of you intended to happen until maybe five years down the road, maybe less if things were good. You getting knocked up six months before your wedding was not in the plans.

A large hand cupped your cheek before you could start spiraling into intrusive thoughts. Lips so soft and warm pressed against yours in a gentle kiss. A strangled gasp rose in your throat as Nanami turned his head, deepening the kiss. Both of his hands cupped each side of your face. He was so gentle and kind, putting all of his love into that single kiss.

Nanami finally managed to pull himself away from you, his fingers gently caressing your face before he sat back down in front of you. His hands cradled the box that you had given him. Looking into his eyes, there was no trace of anger or frustration. There was nothing but hope and love in his iris’.

“You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted in a partner. you’re kind, compassionate, and so undesribilingly beautiful.” A wet tear hit the surface of the table. “You’re giving me a life I never knew I wanted until I met you. Any other man would’ve been content just that. But you're giving me something I can’t even describe.” he placed the lid back onto the box. “You’ve given me hope, unconditional love, and a future.”

“Kento—”

“Don't you dare apologize for that.” he gently scolded, placing the back so gently to the side as if it would shatter. “It may not have been in our plans, but who cares?” Large, calloused fingers gently gripped yours, holding them tight. “We’re going to be just fine, you, me, and our little one.”

Happy tears streamed down your cheeks as Nanami ran his thumb over. “You're right!” you brought his hands to your lips, peppering kisses over his larger hands. “Everything is going to be perfect.” The joy etched over Nanami’s face had your heart racing with pure excitement instead of the dread it had felt ever since you saw that positive sign.

Everything would work out as long as your fiancé was by your side. Your child may not have been planned, but that didn’t mean it would be loved any less. Things would be okay; they would be even better, not that you were expecting a little one soon.

For the first month, things were perfect aside from the morning sickness and the fatigue. You’ve also had a never-ending craving for frozen yogurt and sauerkraut. Not together, of course; your cravings hadn’t gotten that weird yet. Nanami was so perfect. He held your hair back while you vomited in the early hours of the morning, he’d bring you home frozen yogurt when you didn’t even have to ask, and he would massage your back ever so gently before his hands gently pulled out your lower abdomen.

The hands gently stroked your lower abdomen. “My sweet little bean.” he would whisper in your ear, his eyes glancing down at his hand. “I can't wait to meet you. I bet you’ll look just like your mommy.” The tenderness of his tone had you cuddling into him and sighing contently as his palms rested against you.

Moments like that were perfect.

But things took a turn so quickly it could give whiplash. It started as a typical day, nothing out of the ordinary until you were out grabbing some groceries. There was a sharp, stinging pain in your lower back. You thought nothing more of it than just a strained muscle. But when you walked into the restroom to use it, pulling your underwear down to your knees, you saw a stain of red.

Panic settled in as you began to wonder what was going on. You had done everything right. You listened to your doctors, read all the baby books, and even took your vitamins like you were supposed to. So why, why was this happening?

You immediately called Nanami. He stopped what he was doing, rushing to meet you at the doctor's office. Much like when you first told him that you were pregnant, your heart was racing against your rib cage like a hammer to a nail. Only this time, it wasn’t from excitement; it was from terror.

The dread and the panic settled in the pit of your stomach. Noticing your anxiety, Nanami gently took your hand, letting you know he was here for you no matter what. And while you knew he was trying to be kind to let you know that he was here to hold the burden of the unknown with you, that only seemed to worsen things. If something were wrong, you would not be able to live with the guilt; your fiancé had been so excited, you were excited.

Your stomach twisted as the doctor came in. “Well, let’s look and see what’s going on with your baby.” You laid back against the medical exam table. You were shuddering as he poured the cool jelly against your lower abdomen before performing an ultrasound. You knew something was wrong. Not once did the doctor turn towards you. Instead, the screen was securely in front of his face, an unable expression plaster against it. That expression must’ve taken years of practice to master. An expression that screamed he knew something was wrong, but he didn’t want to alarm his patients.

“Is everything okay with our little bean?” Nanami tentatively asked, sensing the same thing you had.

“I’m not seeing anything wrong, per se. I think it’s just a little too early for us to see your little bean right now.”

“I'm sorry, but what?” you sat up on your elbows as a doctor began wiping off the jelly. “What do you mean you can’t see them? Isn’t that a bad thing?”

The doctor and your fiancé exchange the books with one another. “Not necessarily. I checked both your fallopian tubes, and I didn’t see that it’s an ectopic pregnancy, so that’s good. It could be that your little bean is too small for us to see on the monitor.”

“Or there’s no bean at all. It’s possible that it didn’t stick right; it wasn't viable?”

“Love—” your fiancé looked at you as if you had broken his heart with your words.

“Yes, that is a possibility, too.” You felt like the whole world was about to crash down on you. Nanami, tighten this hand on yours before glancing at the doctor.

“But there’s still a chance, right?”

“Of course, like I said, it might be too early. Before you leave, I want to have some blood work drawn. That way, we know for sure.”

Several tubes of blood later and a very silent car ride home, you and Nanami walked into the apartment. You headed straight for the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans to prepare dinner, but your attempts were throttled. Nanami snatched the pots and pans away from you. Whirling around, you reached for the pans.

“Give me that back.” Your tone is sharp and short as you yank a pan back.

“Were you not listening to what the doctor told you when we left? You’re supposed to be resting in bed.”

“Why? I'm bleeding; that's never a good sign.”

Nanami pulled the pan out of your hand as you reached for it again. “You're spotting there's a difference.” A soured scoff left your mouth. “Don’t act like it's over; our little bean is strong.” he placed the pans down, hands reaching for your lower stomach, but before they could touch you, you slapped them away.

“Kento! Stop it! Please!” Tears ran down your cheeks as you choked on a sob. “Please! All day, I've been having this feeling of dread! It didn't stick!”

The tension flooded the room, which was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife. You stared down at the floor, your own hands cradling your stomach while he hovered just in front of you. Kento wanted to touch you, but you had made it clear by smacking his hands away that you didn’t want that.

But seeing you so visibly upset had Kento fighting his instincts. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you in for a hug. Smelling his cologne and feeling the warmth of his body against yours was the final straw—the reins on the emotions you have held back slipped from your grasp. You shoved your face into his chest; soft sobs rocked through you. While you were having a breakdown, Kento gently rubbed his hands up and down your back.

“It’s going to be okay.” His words were muffled as he pressed his lips against your head. “Our little bean is going to be.”

Pulling back with tear-stained cheeks, you hiccuped, taking a deep breath. “A-And what if it’s not?!” Nanami’s smile was across between sorrow and happiness.

“If that does happen, which I doubt it is, we’ll try again.”

“We will—?”

“Of course, we will.” His lips pressed against your head, pulling back to glance down at your sobbing figure. “I love you. I want to raise a family with you. We’ll get there eventually, I promise.”

His words held a sure hope in them. One that made you want to believe that he was right everything would work out for the best. But you also didn’t want to get your hopes up. For now, you will continue to do things as you were. Watching what you were eating and taking your prenatal vitamins, but not losing yourself in the serotonin that came with early pregnancy.

That could change in an instant.

“I love you too.” You whispered gently, grabbing his hands and placing them on your stomach. Nanami’s shoulders relaxed as he ran his hands over you with gentle, loving strokes.

“I love you both.” Without another word, Nanami ushered you to the bedroom, where he promptly tucked you into bed. “I’ll make us something to eat. You need to rest.”

While you wanted to help him, deep down, you knew he wouldn’t let you help. So you’ve fluffed your pillows and laid back against the headboard in defeat. You stayed like that for five minutes before you and Nanami’s phones went off.

Glancing at your screen, you stared at a summons text from Jujutsu High. You were being summoned to go to Shibuya to handle an incident. Just as you finished reading your message, Nanami walked into the bedroom. His eyes were glued to the screen before they quickly darted in your direction, taking note of your hand, which was still in your hand.

“Where did they summon you to?” He said tentatively.

“Shibuya, what about you?”

Nanami huffed out a sigh, running his hand against the back of his neck. “Shibuya.” His confirmation had you sitting up straight. “I’m going to call Yaga and let him know you won’t be joining me.” his words were sharp and cold, like an icepick to your heart.

“I can help; I may not know the reverse curse technique, but my barriers are the best in the business.”

“And our doctor put you on bed rest.” The sharpness of his tone let you know there would be no further discussion. Your fiancé was putting his foot down and would refuse to listen to any arguments you came up with. “So lay back down; I’m going to finish making your dinner before I head out.”

Watching him leave the room had you feeling all sorts of emotions: frustration, sadness, and dread. Something about this wasn’t right if you both were called in on the same mission. It had to be serious.

Different thoughts and outcomes were rolling through your head like a raging river. You had no clue what was waiting for your fiancé, leaving you feeling sick, souring the remains of your lunch. You thought you would be sick until Nanami came back into the room. He placed a piping hot mug of ginger tea on the nightstand beside you before laying a bed tray down in your lap with a bowl of steaming rice porridge.

“Oh, Kento, thank you.” Your fiancé gently kissed your cheek before kneeling next to the bed, his hand resting over the spot he’d been obsessed over.

“Daddy needs to go to work, but I’ll be home as soon as possible.” He traced a small heart over your skin. “I love you and Mommy very much, bean.” His honey-brown eyes, which you loved so much, glittered in the lamp beside you. “I love you; please get some rest; don’t hesitate to call me.”

“I love you too, Kento.”

Nanami grinned, putting on his glasses and jacket. “I’ll be home soon.” He pressed one final kiss to your lips before walking out the bedroom door.

The incident in Shibuya was worse than you had thought. Veils were brought down, there was no cell service, and you were anxiously staring at your phone's screen. Nanami texted you a few times before finally sending you two final messages.

Kento: We’re heading further in; I’ll check in with you in a little bit.

You: Please be safe. I love you.

Kento: I love you too.

That was the last message you received. Worry filled every ounce of your being as you anxiously texted everyone you knew who was at Shibuya. Between you keeping up with the updates on social media and searching for answers as to what was going on, just like everyone else, you were outside of the loop, which had your anxiety at an all-time high.

Nanami was okay; he was always okay. Before you knew it, he would walk back in with a big smile. He’d apologize for being late and complain all about the overtime he worked, and he would hold you. That’s precisely what was going to happen.

You should have known something was wrong when there was a knock on the door around noon that morning. “Did you lose your keys?” You asked as you opened the door, finding Yaga standing there, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. “Yaga?” You question, looking behind him, searching for Nanami.

“Can I come inside?”

“W-Where’s Kento?”

“Hun, please let me in—”

The dread lingering in your stomach rose to your throat as you stepped aside, allowing Yaga to walk in. He was solemn, not looking at you until you both sat at the kitchen table. Your hands felt like ice as Yaga began explaining what happened in Shibuya that he knew thus far.

Gojo had been sealed, and Itadori had been given more fingers; overall, it was a total massacre. So many died, and others were injured. Hearing all of the gory details, had you reaching for your lower stomach. In fear of what Yaga was going to tell you next.

“Is Kento okay? Is he at the hospital, or is Shoko taking care of him?” Yaga remained silent, not saying a single word leaving his lips. “Yaga.”

“Todo and Nitta Arata were called in from Kyoto. They found Itadori fighting the patch-face curse, Mahito.”

Your body went rigid as your vision blurred. Nanami had told you everything that happened with that curse. From his battle with it in the sewers, its technique, and the damage it had done. That curse nearly killed Nanami and Itadori. Hearing about a curse that could alter the shape of a soul had chills running down your spine. Your fiance had said that if he wasn’t dealt with in a timely manner, he would become too strong.

It seemed as though he was right.

“That doesn't answer my question—where’s Kento?” your former high school teacher said nothing again. “Yaga, you need to tell me what happened.”

“When they arrived, itadori was not in a very good state given the circumstances.” Of course, he would be like that. Having Sukuna take control and run a rampage through the city and having to live with that would traumatize anyone. “Mahito touched Nobara, and well—” Yaga trailed off, “we’ll see what happens with her, but Yuuji also informed Todo that Nanami—”

You didn’t wait for him to continue. You stood up, frantically searching for your keys and your jacket. “Stop, let’s go. I need to see him.” Yaga followed after you, gently grabbing your shoulders to stop you. “I need to be by his side. He would do the same for me!” Yaga tightened his grip on you, grabbing your keys and slamming them on the counter.

“Sit down, please.”

“W-Why?” Tears welled in your eyes. “W-We have to go! I need to be with him! Yaga, please!” he helped ease you into the chair before kneeling in front of you. “Yaga?” Your former teacher took his glasses off, holding them between his fingers.

“Itadori told both of them that Nanami—” he swallowed, “Nanami was killed.”

It felt as though your stomach fell out of your body, followed by your heart. You rocked back in the chair, eyes widening as Yaga grabbed your hand. Time stopped; neither you nor Yaga moved or breathed. Heavy breathing filled the silence as the tears fell from your eyes. No way, there was no way he was gone; your Kento w-wouldn't have been taken out—no, he said he would be home soon!

Your stomach churned as you shook your head. “N-No, no, he—” Looking around your apartment, which was full of memories with him, you searched for Kento like it was a bad dream. “H-He was just here—he made me food—” Yaga squeezed your hand gently. “He said he'd be home soon.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“No, no, I don't believe you.” You tried getting up, but your body remained glued to the chair as the shock settled in. “I need to see him. Take me to him, Yaga.”

“There's nothing to see; I refuse to let you see the state they found him in. I can't give you the closure you want.” More tears fell as you struggled to breathe. “We were only able to confirm that it was Nanami because we found his blunt blade and wallet.”

You were going to be sick; your hand covered your mouth as Yaga reached into his back pocket, pulling out a cloth. He gently placed it on the table next to you. Your icy, trembling fingers reached forward, picking up the fabric and unwrapping it. You discovered what was hidden underneath it. Nanami’s wallet sat there in the palm of your hand. Opening it, you choked, seeing his ID.

Yaga kept apologizing as you flipped through the contents of your fiancè’s wallet. You looked through his cards, the money he had inside, before finally landing on a picture he kept of the two of you in the back. A wallet was all that you got? This pathetic piece of leather was your goodbye?

“I know it’s not his body, but it’s still a part of him.”

Part of him? You didn't want part of him; you wanted all of him here at home with you! Where he would caress your stomach absentmindedly while reading. Where you'd cook and share a meal. The two of you would blissfully talk about the future and what it had in store for you.

The nausea settled deep in your stomach as you got up on shaking legs. “I need some air.” As you stepped forward, the room spun, and you began falling forward.

Yaga was fast catching you in his arms as he helped steady you. “Easy there, I got you, hu—” His words trailed off before his muscles clenched. “You're bleeding.” Turning to follow his gaze, you saw a bloom of red staining your chair. “Shit, I’m taking you to the hospital.” Yaga was moving, but all you felt was a numbing sensation. Your eyes stayed locked on your chair before the door slammed shut.

You just lost the love of your life. Now, this was happening? Are you honestly going to lose the one thing he left behind that was a part of both of you? No, no, this wasn't fair! You wailed, screaming as Yaga rushed you out of the apartments into the car one of the assistant supervisors was driving. Yaga barked out an order before resting your head in his lap. Your hands rubbed over the spot Nanami always did as you hiccuped and screamed.

This wasn't real; it was all a nightmare, a terrible, horrible nightmare. But the chill that coursed through your veins and settled in your chest was a sick reminder. A reminder that this was, in fact, not a nightmare. This was reality. The harsh, cold reality that you were having to face on your own. one where your fiancé was dead, and you were bleeding when you were carrying his child. Nanami wasn't dead; this had to be some cosmic twisted joke. Why, on the same day you lost the love of your life, would you lose the last part you had of him?

“No,” you whispered, “no, they’re strong, they’re so strong like their daddy.” Break squealed as the door to the backseat opened. “They have to make it; they’re gonna make it.”

Lights were blurred as you were placed upon a gurney, faces crowded about you, voices shouting, commands, and barking out orders. The sickening smell of sterilizing chemicals flooded your nose, making the nausea worse. You were overwhelmed by the sounds, smell, and grief.

“Where’s that Ultrasound?!”

Cold jelly was on you as you thrashed around trying to find Kento, to look at the screen to see your baby. “I got nothing!” Someone screamed, making you sit up.

“No! No! Please! T-They're okay!”

“Miss, you need to relax.”

“Look again!” You pleaded before you were pushed back against the gurney. “Look again!”

“Easy! Relax!”

They weren't listening to you! You needed to make sure your child was okay! You could not lose them both, not on the same day. Your blurry eyes searched the faces around you, desperately trying to find honey-brown eyes. But he wasn't there. You needed him! Fuck you needed him so tucking bad!

“Kento!!” Your scream was so loud it made your ears ring as nurses and doctors worked around and above you. “P-Please! Please, I can't lose them too, Ken! I can't lose you both!!!”

A warmth washed over you like a warm hand, gently rubbing up and down your arm, easing you down into a calm state. Or maybe you were given something by the doctors, or the shock was making you drift out of consciousness. Your heart stopped thundering in your ears, slowing to a normal pace as your eyes began to shut. The blurry shapes around you faded into darkness.

That same warm caress had you stirring, blinking as the sound of ocean waves crashing drew you from your hellish nightmare. Slowly following the hand on you gasped, finding Nanami sitting before you. He was in his blue button-down top, tie long forgotten, just like the day you had told him you were pregnant. You sat up on pure white sand, tears rolling down your cheeks as you reached for him, cupping his face.

“Kento—”

“Love, I'm so sorry.” He turned, nuzzling his face into your palms. “I’m so sorry I left you both.”

“I love you.” The words were broken and full of disdain as you pulled him closer. “I love you, I love you.”

Blonde brows furrowed in sorrow as Nanami shut his eyes as tightly as possible. “I love you too, darling.” He huffed out a heavy sigh. “I love you both.” The way he shifted his arms had your eyes darting toward his chest, where a bundle lay in his arms. A bundle that wailed softly as he pushed the blanket back. “You were right.” Blinking tears away, you stared up at him in confusion.

“About what?”

“About her being strong like me.” His eyes filled with tears as he ran his knuckle over a chubby cheeks. “She's a fighter.”

“She?”

“And she’s beautiful like her mommy.” Kenton continued as he gently transferred the bundle into your arms. “She’s going to be smart like the both of us.” Nanami cupped your cheek, gently kissing you. “She’ll pull through, just like you will, and I’ll be right there with you, watching over my girls; I swear I’ll always be there.”

Pressing your forehead against his, you stared into those eyes you loved. “I love you, Kento.” He stared back, blinking slowly before pressing a chaste kiss against your lips while his hand rested against your tummy, making your heartache.

“I love you too.”

Shutting your eyes, you took a deep breath before opening them again. Big sparkling honey-brown eyes peered down at you, framed by thick lashes. They were full of concern as a tiny hand gently wiped a tear away from your eye.

“Mommy? Why are you cryin’?”

Sitting up, you quickly wiped your eyes before turning towards the four-year-old. “I was dreaming, little bean; I'm okay.” Blonde hair bounced as she tilted her head to the side. Her frilly pink swimsuit was on, and her yellow duck floaties squeaked as she wrapped her arms around your neck. “Oh, Kotoe.” You hugged her back, squeezing her gently. “Thank you, baby.” Your daughter pulled back, rubbing your cheek softly.

“Was it scary?”

“Nope, it was a good dream.”

“Good?”

“Mhmm,” You kissed her cheek, “your daddy just stopped by to say hi to us.” She smiled wide, looking up at the blue umbrella shielding you from the sun.

“Hi, Daddy!” She waved so enthusiastically. “I love you!” She focused her attention back on you. “Mommy, can Uncle Yuuji and Uncle Ino take me back to the water to play more?”

“Sure baby, just a little longer; Uncle Gojo and the others will be back soon with the watermelon and fireworks. Can I put some more sunscreen on you first?”

A bottle of sunscreen promptly landed beside you as Ino passed. “Already did it!” He ran for the water as Yuuji bolted by picking your daughter up.

“Ah, haha! Uncle Yuuji!!”

“Nana-Bean! Nana-Bean!” Yuuji chanted as he and Ino grabbed one of her hands, walking toward the water.

Nanami had been right; your little girl was strong, just like him. She fought and made it through a scary dark time in your life. Kotoe was your entire world; she was loved by you and everyone around you. It was all thanks to her that you found the strength to fight.

A warm caress brushed down your cheek as you watched your daughter pick up seashells. You learned into it, sighing happily. “Hi, Kento,” you whispered as the warmth spread. “Thanks for saying hi, I love you.”

Little Kotoe turned and looked back at you, holding up a pink shell she found. When she did, she saw a see-through man and recognized him immediately. Her father, Nanami Kento, whom she'd only seen in pictures and videos, sat on the beach towel beside you. His see-through hand gently rubs up your cheek.

“Nana-bean? Whatcha looking at?”

“My daddy!” She announced proudly before putting her seashell in her bucket. “He loves my mommy so much he comes and visits her!”

Ino and Yuuji shared a look before focusing on you. Both young men felt an ache in their chests as their eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Does he visit a lot?” Yuuji asked as Kotoe dropped another seashell in her pink sand bucket.

“Mhmm! Daddy said Mommy is strong! The strongest! Stronger than Uncle Gojo!”

A shadow spread over the trio. “I’m sorry. Someone's stronger than me?” Kotoe looked up at Gojo, who held a watermelon over his shoulder.

“My daddy said my mommy is!”

“Oooh~” Gojo fixed his glasses, turning his head to smile at you as Maki and Yuuta sat with you. “Yeah, your mommy is strong. But your dad needs to shut his mouth, or I'll put a sippy cup on his altar.”

The trio all tilted their heads in confusion. Gojo smirked before telling them the story of Nanami spilling coffee down the front of himself the same day you had found out you were pregnant. The group busted into a string of giggles. You turned from Maki, watching your little girl throw her head back, rays of light surrounding her.

Once in a blue moon, Kento had mentioned to you that he told a girl at a bakery, ‘No one would mind if I was gone.’ he couldn't have been more wrong. There wasn't a day that you didn't miss him. So many people missed him; he had been taken far too soon.

Four years have passed since you lost the love of your life. But Nanami had blessed you with memories of him and helped make your little bean before his untimely departure. Knowing and loving him was one of the greatest honors bestowed upon you. It was the kind of love that transcended time. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of love that lived on through his pupils, his daughter, and you.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe

[subbypeterparker]

Hi!, I was wondering if you could do NSFW headcannons for Ethan Landry 🤭

Ugh you guys know just what to ask me 😫

warnings: NSFW below the cut!!

first things first, this man is 100% a complete and total sub

let’s be honest, with me we knew this was coming ;)

big on being pinned down ;) doesn’t matter if it’s through actual restraints, or your hands, he’ll be a blushing mess

such a sleeper after sex. as much as you’d love to do proper aftercare, he just instantly falls asleep (don’t worry, you take care of him as soon as he wakes up)

Ethan might be the biggest crier known to man (i’m biased, and think all puppy dog eyes give off that energy)

omfg there is nothing prettier than his eyes when the poor thing tears up

whiner (VERY vocal)

it’s a goddamn miracle chad hasn’t complained about the noise when you two fuck, as Ethan is the loudest person ever

moans, groans, whines, pleas and begs; he does it all, and does it very well

huge on getting choked. breath play is possibly his biggest turn on, and the simple feeling of your gentle hands wrapping around his neck just gets him going

into knife play…but only slightly! he doesn’t want his skin to actually be pierced by a blade, but the uncertainty of what you’ll do to him has him arching into the blade

he thrusts his hips a lot by accident, and usually while he’s inside you somehow (might end up being too rough, and you have to pin him down)

i’d like to think he’s very very sensitive (nipples, his pretty little tip, everything 🤭)

mommy and ma’am kinks. i will take no further arguments, he’s so so into things like that

“yes mommy” is his voice omg 😵‍💫

not big on fluids like spit, but oh my lord is he into cum play

however, he’s not 100% against the idea of you spitting in his mouth

big stutterer when he’s so into it. can’t form sentences, much less actual words

fully convinced he’s an everything man. boobs and butts, never just one

this just means he’s handys with everything he can reach, and you can fully expect him to have his mouth all over you, leaving hickies as he moves

honestly is into role play. as a nerd, his biggest thing is having his partner dress up as a character he fantasizes about

bonus points if it a dominant woman

very into humiliation. sitting with all your friends, while your hand secretly strokes his cock, and all the poor thing can do is sit there and take it

he’s the world’s #1 praise fan!! you heard it here first: whether it’s praising you (“god you feel so good”) between moans, or when you praise him (“baby you’re doing such a good job”), his brain goes numb, and he just becomes your toy to play with

he is however very into degradation, especially if you tie it in with hitting him 😋

pain. kink.

leave bruises and bite marks all over him, and this man will cum on the spot

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

he is possibly my new favourite person i will write for (dw though, peter is here to stay 😋) but jack champion is just the sweetest guy i’ve ever seen, and i’m considering writing for him too (but it would just be fluff and angst)

[itgetsdark-x]

I have a request for Joel x reader where the reader has never been in a relationship where her orgasm was important to her partners so Joel makes it a mission to make her cum as many times as possible 👀

Oh anon, sweet anon I couldn’t turn down this request if I tried. I just know Joel would wanna satisfy his partner in bed as many times as he wanted to. I just 🧎🏻‍♀️ I hope you like it, I kinda rushed it a little as I was too excited to write it but yeah! Thanks for the request <3 I’m gonna go and hide now <3

Warnings: 18+, please it’s just smut. Oral (f receiving), mild breeding kink if you squint a little, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it, be sensible), use of good / little girl a lot, age gap (reader is mid - late twenties, Joel would be older but not explicitly stated), roughly follows the game / show but not at all lol cause the timeline is way off

Summary: Joel knew you had been left frustrated by your previous partners and well, when he heard you moan his name he couldn’t deny you the pleasure any longer.

Characters: Joel Miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: y’all know how bad I’m down for Joel rn, and I saw this tiktok that had me truly feral and frothing at the mouth so me being the true slut I am for this man, I had to include the dialogue. You’re welcome. Just as a little side note, I have all the other requests in my inbox and I love them all, I will work my way through but I work full time so please be patient, my loves <3

Before the outbreak happened, you had never had a boyfriend, not a proper one anyway and well, since then it had only gone downhill. You were in high school when the outbreak happened and miraculously you had managed to escape and actually survive. You had lost your family along the way and met up with a man called Joel Miller. You first met him in the Boston QZ, and since then you had become a team. It had been years and you were in your late twenties now, still teamed up with Joel but a few years back you took Ellie on with you. It had been a messy journey but one that was so worth it, Ellie was your bestfriend and Joel fathered her like his own. She was just a teenager but she had seen so much in her short life that had matured her much beyond her years. 

After the outbreak, and in the world of dating, men seemed to be greedier at chasing their own highs rather than actually satisfying you in anyway, shape or form. The only orgasms you had really experienced in the past few years were from ones you had drawn from yourself; those long nights where you shifted in your bed and let your fingers give you some much needed relief. Still, you would have traded all of those orgasms for one decent one from another man. 

“Are you listening to me? Hello?” Ellie snapped her fingers in front of your face. “I was saying,” she huffed. “I was saying, how was that date with David the other night, haven’t seen you since and I wanna know all the juicy details.” She giggled. 

You were pulled out of your thoughts but you continued to stare at the food on your plate, you pushed it around before admitting defeat and setting your knife and fork down. “It was awful.” You whined. “Absolutely awful, like guys really only care about getting off themselves. I haven’t had a decent orgasm in years.” You complained and just as you finished your sentence, Joel joined you both at the table. 

He cleared his throat awkwardly and you felt embarrassment rise in you. “Sorry, Joel.” You mumbled and Ellie was biting back a humungous laugh; you shot her a look and she tried to stifle the noise further. 

“Anyway… I should be heading off to school.” Ellie giggled and looked at your embarrassed face and Joel’s awkward demeanour. 

The three of you had settled down in Jackson after your journey temporarily ended when Joel finally located Tommy. It was a decent place; so long as you stayed in line and did your fair share of jobs. You helped out in various places; you helped tend to the animals, you sometimes assisted in classrooms and you were known to frequent shifts in the kitchen. Joel ran defence classes, teaching the older teens how to shot their guns, how to fight with weapons and generally preparing them for if they ever needed to evacuate and look after themself in the wild. He always did frequent patrol shifts around the walls, much like his brother did. In return the three of you had a decent three-bedroom home and for the first time in years, stability and safety. You were just pleased that it offered Ellie a small sense of normality and belonging. 

“David is an asshole.” Joel stated with a smirk. 

“Yeah, well, I know that now.” You laughed bitterly, no humour behind the noise at all. 

“You know… some men out there do actually care about pleasing women. Not all. But some.” Joel said nonchalantly and it only caused your blush to grow deeper in your cheeks. 

“Yeah, well, when you find one. Send them my way, yeah?” You said bluntly and rose from the table, taking your plate. “I’ve got a shift in the kitchen now and then I’m out at the farm for the afternoon. Ellie is going round to a friend’s this evening but promised she would be back before 10pm like normal.” 

“Alright, sweetheart. See you later.” Joel said as he continued to eat his breakfast. 

You long had a crush on Joel, from the moment he first met you in the QZ, you were hooked. He helped teach you how to fight, shoot and even hunt. There had been brutal moments outside the world of the QZ’s and Joel had saved you multiple times. There had also been those unspoken moments between you both where a touch on your hand as he helped you aim maybe lingered a second too long or his gaze fixated on you as you changed, when he thought you weren’t looking. You just assumed he never made a move on you due to your obvious age-gap, you assumed he always kinda looked at you like a kid. The age-gap seemed like such a trivial thing since the whole world ended but you never pushed your luck as you know you needed Joel to get by and actually live. 

—

Your shifts went by quick and by the time you finished you were sweaty and in need of a long, hot shower and maybe, just maybe, you could get five minutes alone to scratch the burning itch under your skin. 

“Joel, you home yet?” You called as you stepped into the home, no lights were on so you assumed maybe he was already in bed. Joel worked different shifts and so, nothing was really a surprise with him anymore. 

There was no answer, just silence, you thanked the god’s above and all but ran upstairs, you turned the shower on to warm up and within minutes there was hot water filling the space. You underdressed yourself quickly and stepped into the water, the second the warm water hit your skin, you sighed with relief. 

You soaped up your body and it didn’t take long for your fingers to explore your body and to slip between your slicked folds; a soft moan fell from your lips as your fingers circled your sensitive clit. You worked yourself quicker as your orgasm neared, you were so deep in the moment. 

“Joel,” You whimpered as your eyes were closed and you worked your fingers faster. Your naked chest heaved as your ragged breaths ripped through your parted mouth. “So good, please. More.” You whined to yourself. 

You had fully allowed yourself to delve into your fantasies; normally someone was always hope and you had to keep quiet whenever you masturbated. So when you had the house to yourself, you allowed yourself to be louder and enjoy it more. 

Joel got home, he immediately saw lights on and heard the water running upstairs. He didn’t think anything of it and went to the fridge to grab himself a drink. That’s when he heard his name, he put his drink down and wandered upstairs, he didn’t make a lot of noise but he wasn’t exactly being sneaky either. 

He saw your body, well, the back of your body at least; his hungry eyes raked over your naked form and they stopped at your ass. That’s when he heard you whimper again and he realised what you were doing. Which meant… no. You were thinking of him?!

Joel went to knock on the door, to politely announce he was home. Anything, but he couldn’t bring himself to and he certainly could held the way his cock hardened in his jeans at the thought of your cumming around your fingers whilst you thought of him. 

His mouth went dry and gingerly he knocked on the door frame which caused your whole body to jump and you almost slipped in the bathtub. 

“What the fuck?! Why are you watching me?!” You yelped and you saw Joel stood there, his eyes raked over your body before he looked around the room and avoided making eye contact with you. You brought your arms to try and cover some of your body. 

“I uh, sorry darlin’. Heard my name and thought you called for me, I, uh, I get what you were doing now…” he said quietly and your cheeks turned a deep crimson. 

“Joel,” you gasped. “I-I’m so sorry I — I thought no one was home and I was just, well, y’know what I was doing. I’m so embarrassed. I’m sorry.” You mumbled and switched off the water. You grabbed your towel off the ground and wrapped it around your body tightly. 

Joel finally looked at you and this time he couldn’t help but smile, a boyish grin spread across his features and you wanted to punch him for being so smug. 

“What?! What are you smiling about?” You whined, still embarrassed. 

“Oh it’s nothing just… you want me to help you out, sweet girl. Show you what a real orgasm feels like?” Joel said lowly, the smug expression still on his face. Never before had he allowed himself to indulge in the lust he felt for you, until now; there you were, your hair was damp and your body glistened as the water droplets slid down every beautiful curve of your body.

“Oh fuck you, this,” you gestured up and down your body and between the two of you. You stepped out of the bathtub on shaky legs. “This isn’t something you get to take the piss about, okay? You can forget about that!” You hissed as you went to push past Joel. This was beyond humiliating and you didn’t need him to remind you of it or hold it above you as some kind of joke. 

You tried to leave the room and Joel simply grabbed your wrist, before you could open your mouth he had you pushed up against the wall and was kissing you passionately. It was hot and heavy, your teeth clashed and your tongues met with a moan from you. Your hand found its way into Joel’s salt and pepper hair as his hands rested on your hip. 

“Joel,” you mumbled, barely breaking the kiss between you both. “We shouldn’t, I mean. What about Ellie, what if she comes home? It’ll mess everything up.” You whispered, your breaths short as Joel peppered soft kisses to your jaw. 

“With all due respect, darlin’… how about you shut up and let me show you how good a real man can make you feel.” Joel breathed, his lips hovering just by your ear. 

His words, his lips, his breath; it was entirely all too much and not enough and it had your body quivering under him. 

“Already shaking for me and I’ve not touched you, sweet girl.” He growled lowly in your ear and you shook your head in disagreement. “Bedroom. Now.” He commanded and you obediently left the bathroom and entered your own bedroom. 

You stood awkwardly near the bed, you didn’t exactly have heaps of experience in the bedroom and the experience you did have was usually late at night and with someone you didn’t care for, where the other person was more interested in chasing their release rather than helping you get yours. Joel walked into the room and smirked at you, god, he was so infuriating with his arrogance. 

“Let’s take this off, shall we?” Joel asked softly and held the edge of your towel, he tugged it off and it fell to the floor with a dull thud. You felt exposed and vulnerable as Joel’s hungry eyes drank you in; he was trying to memories every dip of your body, every freckle, every single hair and he wanted this image to replay every night in his head for the rest of his life. “Fuck. So beautiful, look at you.” He cursed, closing the space between you once more to kiss you again. 

He walked you both back until your back fell flat on your bed, you whimpered helplessly under him as you felt his weight on top of you. His large hand came up to knead the soft skin of your breast before his fingers took your nipple and twisted it gently, your back arched off the bed at his actions and you whined under the older man. 

“That’s it. Good girl, that feel good?” Joel asked and let his head duck down to envelope your sensitive nipple into his mouth, his tongue flicked over the bud and you moaned softly.

“Want you to take your clothes off.” You gasped out as your hands clutched at Joel’s grubby shirt. He released your nipple with a pop of his mouth and sat back to remove his shirt. 

Your mouth went dry at the sight, you had seen Joel shirtless before but you had never been able to truly appreciate it. He had a little chest hair and his torso was delicately peppered with various scars, all of them ranging in size and intensity. He locked eyes with you as he stood to undo his belt and jeans, he kicked off the heavy denim and you couldn’t deny the way you clenched around air; you could see the outline of Joel’s cock, it was heavy and thick. 

“Like what you see?” He laughed and grabbed his length through the thin fabric of his boxers. You nodded and shamelessly you let your thighs open further for him. “Good girl.” He cooed as he admired the site of your glistening cunt. 

Joel wasted no more time and he was back on the bed with you, this time just dressed in his boxers. He positioned himself next to you, one leg draped over your to keep legs spread and teasingly, he trailed two fingers through your wet folds. You whimpered under him, spreading your legs further again. Joel laughed above you, he was watching your features as he let his fingers tease you for the first time. Your back arched slightly and your breaths became more ragged. 

“Please,” you whined, your voice high pitched and needy. “Please don’t tease me, Joel.” 

He laughed, again, he laughed and your body thrummed with anger as his fingers moved agonisingly slow before they fell to your clit and he circled that sensitive area just perfectly. You moaned, it was a loud noise and it shocked you as it was ripped from your throat. You threw your head back and your fingers gripped the sheets beneath you until they turned white. 

“Nice and wet for me, hm? That all for me? I heard you moaning my name like a good little slut in the shower.” Joel groaned as his fingers got coated in your slick arousal. 

He started a punishing pace and already, you felt the white heat in your stomach start to bubble aggressively. Joel leant up to admire your features once more, he loved the way your eyes fluttered shut every time he would move his fingers just so. Just as your body tensed, Joel teasingly changed the tempo of his movements and he could see the frustration that settled in your eyes but with that smug smirk on his lips again, he plunged two thick fingers into your tight hole and let his thumb stroke circles around your clit. 

The noise you made was sinful, it almost didn’t sound human. Joel laughed, it was low and breathy and he felt so proud he was the one to elicit these filthy noises from you. He pulled his fingers out just to plunge them in deeper, only this time, he curled them upwards and it had you seeing stars. You felt lightheaded as you screwed your eyes shut and bit down onto your bottom lip. 

“Think you can cum for me? Cum all on my fingers?” Joel asked and tenderly stroked some stray strands of wet hair from your face. “That’s it,” he cooed as he kept his fingers deep in you to stroke against the sensitive spot deep in your walls. 

You were broken, already. Completely and utterly broken as Joel’s fingers ripped an orgasm from deep within you. Your back arched higher off the old mattress and your fingers clawed at Joel’s arm. No man had made you cum like this before. 

You came heavily around Joel’s digits, your walls fluttered and clenched around him as he worked you through your first proper orgasm with another male. 

“That’s it. Good girl,” he cooed softly into your ear as he sped his fingers back up. “You reckon you can cum again?” He asked and you looked at him with your lust-blown eyes and nodded silently, your lips still parted in pleasure. 

Joel’s thumb drew circles around your clit and every so often he would swipe it directly over the little bud of nerves that had you whimpering under him. Your fingernails dug into the skin of Joel’s shoulder and in their wake, you left crescent moon shapes. Joel groaned at the sting of your fingers nails and it only encouraged him to work his own fingers in you deeply. 

“Anyone ever eaten this little pussy?” Joel asked in a low tone, he pulled his fingers out of you and placed a light slap to your sensitive area. You yelped loudly and squeezed Joel’s arm. 

You shook your head no and shivered under Joel’s watchful gaze, you couldn’t speak, you didn’t trust your voice to make the correct noises as you knew what was about to happen and it made your body ache with anticipation. 

Joel kissed your mouth once before he trailed kisses down your stomach, it caused it to heave under his soft touches; his rough facial hair tickled across your skin. Joel took your thighs into his hands and pulled them so they draped over his shoulders, fully exposing your wet pussy to him. His mouth watered at the site and he couldn’t wait to taste every inch of you. 

Joel wasted no more time, he parted your folds with his fingers before he delved his tongue into your wet heat. He couldn’t hold back the deep groan that rumbled up his throat, he had longed to taste you and have you gasping under him. 

“So sweet,” he whispered as he slurped up your arousal. His tongue flicked over your clit and you gripped into his thick hair roughly. “That’s it, use my face, just like that, atta girl. Keep doing that.” Joel groaned as you greedily chased your high again on his face. He attached his lips onto your clit and suckled on it softly, his tongue rhythmically flicked over it. 

“Go-gonna cum again!” You groaned. You looked down at Joel below you and it had you clenching around nothing, you longed to be filled as you came hard. His hair was a mess and his eyes were drooped shut as he ate your pussy like a man starved of food. “I-I want you in me. Need to feel your cock in me.” You whimpered as Joel flicked his tongue over your sensitive body. 

“Yeah? You think you can cum again on my cock? How about you ride me, need to make sure you get all the orgasms you need, good girl.” He purred, standing up to stroke his cock after he removed his boxers. His length bobbed against his stomach when he removed his boxers. Your pussy fluttered with arousal as you watched his hand pass over his length a few times; none of the men you had been with were as big as Joel. He wasn’t just long, he was thick as well and you couldn’t wait to feel the stretch of him inside of you. 

Joel climbed onto your bed so his back was against your pillows and he was half sitting up, he continued to stroke himself as you watched. You were strung out on the intense orgasms already and you weren’t sure how you were supposed to have it in you to ride his large dick. He held a hand up and made a ‘come hither’ gesture with his fingers, you sucked in a deep breath and moved your body up to his. You swung your legs over Joel’s lap to straddle him and he took his cock and passed it through the wetness of your pussy. 

You shivered and gripped at Joel’s chest below you, your fingers combed through the light dusting of hair there. He pressed the tip of his fat cock to your wet hole and held your hips tightly as he brought you down on him. You moaned weakly as he bottomed out so you were sat in his lap, there was a faint sting as you adjusted to him. 

“Bet you can feel me in your stomach, can’t you?” He purred, his fingers stroked soft patterns in the skin of your hips. He took one hand and gently stroked at your clit once again which caused you to grind down onto Joel’s length. He moaned at that and his head lulled back; you were so wet, so warm and just so tight. He knew he was the first one to split you open like that. “Such a tight. little. cunt.” Joel growled, his hips bucking up to fuck into you. 

“So good.” You breathed as you started to bounce in his lap. “Feels so good. You’re so big.” You whimpered, with each bounce down, Joel thrusted up to meet you and it sent delicious shockwaves through your body. Your skin felt impossibly tight and too small for you and the burn in your stomach flickered furiously. 

“That’s it. Atta girl, use my cock. Make yourself cum on me.” He growled, his thumb swiped over your clit once again which ripped a loud moan from your parted lips. As you bounced on his cock, your breasts heaved with the effort and your breaths came out of your mouth ragged and laboured. 

“Can’t cum again, t-too much.” You whined and it was true, your body felt entirely too sensitive and everything almost felt too good, it took you by surprise since you weren’t ever aware that you could feel this good. 

That’s all Joel needed, something animalistic switched in the pit of his stomach and with that, he had lifted your body to flip you onto your stomach. Your face pressed into the mattress with the force and he grabbed your hips roughly, pulling your ass up into the air for him. Joel brought a hand down and spanked the soft skin roughly. 

He shoved his cock back into your wet heat with a groan and his balls slapped forward onto your clit. You whimpered pathetically and tried to grab at the sheets below you for leverage as Joel built up a rough pace. 

“I said,” he accentuated the words with a rough thrust. “Cum on my cock, you wanted to been shown what it was like to cum properly. So cum for me.” Joel growled, his voice was dark and commanding. 

Tears filled your eyes and soon there was a wet patch under your face on your sheets; you weren’t entirely sure whether it was from your tears or the saliva that pooled from your mouth. 

“Touch yourself and cum on my cock.” You commanded bluntly and you obeyed, you snaked a hand under your stomach and rubbed at your clit with fervour. This angle caused Joel’s cock head to bump against that spot deep within yourself. You were soon cumming around Joel’s cock with a scream, you felt a gush and Joel was groaning behind you. “That’s it. Good girl, cum on me. Soak me.” He cooed and slapped your ass, softer this time so he could knead the skin. 

You whimpered as you worked through your orgasm, your eyes screwed tightly shut and your walls fluttered around Joel’s cock as you came down from your high. He didn’t give you a second to recover as he pulled out and flipped you over so he could see your face. 

“I wanna see your pretty little face when I fuck my seed into your greedy little hole.” Joel groaned, he tapped his cock against your sensitive clit and you quivered under him. You weren’t sure you could take much more, never had you felt so pleasured in your life. 

Joel teasingly slow pushed his length into you once again and your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling. He didn’t reach as deep in this position but you could feel every single inch as he slid in. He rolled his hips to meet yours and he groaned with each pass of your tight pussy. 

“Want me to fill you up? What if I fuck a baby into you? You want that. Wanna get all round with my seed?” He growled and it made your walls clench around him, he smirked at the reaction and toyed with your abused clit. “I think you can give me one more, little girl. I think you can gush on my cock whilst I fuck my cum into you.” 

You couldn’t believe the words Joel was saying, you were sure it just ‘in the moment’ but you still couldn’t believe the filth that fell from his dirty mouth. You shook your head no at Joel and he just barked a laugh at you. 

“I’m sure I’ll get another out of you,” he whispered and leant down to kiss at your breasts once again. “Bet this is what you thought of in the shower, isn’t it? Bet you thought of my cock splitting you open as I fuck you. I’ve thought about it, baby girl. Fucked my hand so many times imagining it was your tight little pussy. God this is so much better than I imagined. You’re so good for me, taking me so well.” Joel praised with a gutteral groan, his hips were slower as he worked himself closer to his own relief. He was surprised it he lasted as long as he did, it had been a while since he had been with a woman and that was mainly down to you. Anytime he was with someone else he imagined it was you he was filling up. 

“Come on, please give me one more. Just one.” Joel purred, his mouth sloppily licking at your hardened nipples. 

It was too much; his words, his hand, his mouth on your nipples and his cock filling you so deliciously. You didn’t think you could but it happened again; you clenched around Joel once more, his hips stalled and he thrust deep inside of you as you’re tightened around him. The room was filled with your laboured breathing and Joel’s soft pants as he filled you with his seed. You whined as you felt the hot liquid coat your inner walls. 

Joel laid there for a few seconds as he gained his composure once again and he rolled off your body, and slid out of you with a grimace and he winced. Your body shuddered as you laid there, completely fucked out and drunk on the older male’s cock. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed but when you finally found the strength in your body to get up and go to the bathroom, it was pitch black outside, your room was illuminated softly with a distant spotlight. You pulled Joel’s shirt on as it was the only clothes readily to hand and you couldn’t help but smile as you saw his sleeping face, and for once, he looked peaceful. You tiptoed out of your room and headed to the bathroom, just as you stepped inside and turned the light on a figure appeared in the doorway of Ellie’s room. 

“Gotcha!” She giggled as you held your chest from the shock. 

“Ellie!” You hissed. “You almost scared me to death. Go back to bed, it’s late.” You scolded. 

“Why are you wearing Joel’s shirt?” She asked with a knowing smirk. 

“Oh I, uh…” You mumbled, trying to think of the words on your feet. 

“I’m fuckin’ with ya… I came home earlier and well, let’s just say I’m glad the weather was alright for me to walk around the block a few times.” Ellie laughed although you could see the faint disgust on her features. 

You held back a choked laugh and brought your hand up to your mouth. “Ellie, I’m so sorry.. we, I mean, we’re so sorry. We didn’t wann—“ you rambled nervously and she held a hand up and waved it dismissively. 

“Eh, it’s whatever. I’ve seen the way you two practically eye-fuck each other anyway. I’m surprised it took old man Miller this long to make a move on you. Glad you got a decent orgasm though.” Ellie laughed with a shrug. “Goodnight, Y/N. Let Joel know I’m home safe.” She smirked and disappeared back into her room. 

You sat on the edge of the bathtub and held the backs of your cool hands to your burning cheeks. You couldn’t quite believe that today had happened, and of course it ended exactly like that. You laughed quietly to yourself and got yourself up with shaky legs. After finishing up in the bathroom, you went back to your room and crawled into your bed and you drifted to sleep with the soft sounds of Joel’s snores.

You braced yourself on the edge of the bathtub and held your burning cheeks in your cool hands, you couldn’t quite believe that conversation just happened and Ellie had heard the two of you earlier. 

You were just grateful she didn’t seem pissed or upset about it. Maybe things were going to work out all okay in the long run. However they panned out, you were just so relieved you finally were able to have a decent orgasm, or multiples, at the hands of another man. For the first time in a long time, you slept soundly as you listened to the low rumble of Joel’s snores.

[ieatstarsforaliving]

The Masc Behind the Mask (4)

Summary: Hazel gets into a fight at the bank. And of course, you just have to save her.

Pairing: Spider-Woman!Hazel Callahan x Classmate!Reader

Warnings: Mature language, use of (Y/N), violence, mentions of bruises, cuts, and blood, threats of death, fainting, just Spider-Woman stuff

Word Count: 5019

Note: I got really annoyed at writing action because uhm it ls hard so the fight scenes are really lame. I also added a special character in here who you might recognize from Spiderverse teehee - Bia <3

Hazel hid in an obstructed alley, quickly scanning her surroundings before kicking off her shoes, sending them tumbling towards the nearby garbage can. She reached into her backpack to retrieve her suit while wrestling her jeans off, hopping on one foot, causing her to tumble into a heap of discarded cardboard boxes– before she managed to put on her suit in place. She shot her backpack to the dumpster with some webs to keep it in place, then leaped onto the roof. 

Perched on a ledge high above the street, Hazel looked down at the neighborhood and took a deep breath.

"Okay, this is fine. You’re fine! You basically left (Y/N) all alone in your room without a proper explanation and she probably thinks you’re robbing a bank! But this is fine," Hazel mumbled to herself, adjusting the web-shooters on her wrists before jumping down. 

She swung through the neighborhood, listening intensely to the sound of police sirens. As she descended upon the robbery at the bank, she surveyed the area, calculating her approach. The bank’s door seemed to have been blasted open by some form of intense firearm, but other than that, it was hard to see exactly what was going on inside. 3 police cars flashing red and blue circled the scene of the crime, yet the officers seemed to hesitate to interact with the building.

Hazel silently swung closer, landing behind a familiar officer. 

“Officer Morales,” Hazel said, startling the officer. Morales swiftly turned to the voice, a hostile glare etched across her face when she saw the outrageous Spider-Woman standing before her. 

“We’re handling it,” Officer Morales scoffed, tossing her braid. “We don’t need help from unidentified vigilantes in spandex suits.” 

Hazel laughed, giving a slap on the officer’s back. “Come on, Rio. Are we going to do this every time?” 

Rio glared at Spiderwoman, sighing before reluctantly pulling out her notepad. 

“Three suspects inside the building. They’ve got high-tech gear– dangerous stuff I’ve never seen before. The bank’s closed, so no civilians are in there, but we’ve lost a few officers already.” She glanced at Spider-Woman. “It’s risky going in.” 

Hazel gave a nod. “That’s why I’m here. Soon as I send out the officers, take them to a safe distance.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do…” The officer grumbled, but nonetheless, waved her fellow police over to update them on Spider-Woman’s appearance. 

Squaring her shoulders, Hazel strode towards the bank’s entrance. Her priority was clear– evacuate the officers, contain the threat, and get back to you and clear up the misunderstanding of her being an ex-convict/bank robber. 

You know, if you haven't left and called the cops already. 

As Hazel entered the bank, her eyes darted from corner to corner– rubble and cash were scattered all around on the ground, with the chairs and ATM machines smashed to pieces. It seemed like the robbers had already emptied out the ATMs, and had moved onto the teller drawers and vaults. As Hazel moved deeper into the bank, her senses heightened– sounds of shuffling footsteps, obnoxious laughter, and some form of– technology?

With a swift, controlled motion, she jumped onto the wall then to the ceiling, climbing the walls upside down towards the noise. She first saw a group of officers pinned to the ground by something invisible, placed by a robber holding a dark trumpet-shaped device. The second robber was holding a massive firearm, with a series of circular indentations giving off an odd blue glow. Hazel deduced that was what blasted the door off. The last robber seemed to be wearing a backpack that extended 2 long metal arms and talons that was grabbing as much cash as it could from the vault, stuffing it into a bag. Each of them wore a black mask, with only their eyes and mouths carved out.    

“Trumpet Man, Blaster, and… Noodle Arms,” Hazel mumbled to herself, giving each of her targets nicknames so that the author doesn’t have to write ‘robber’ a bunch of times.

Hazel slowly descended down, hanging from a web upside down until she hovered in the middle of the distracted robbers. The trio didn’t notice her until she cleared her throat. 

“Hey, guys! Can I make a withdrawal real quick?” 

In a swift, calculated motion, Hazel webbed Blaster and Noodle Arm’s eyes as soon as they turned around. Their shouts of surprise were muffled as she leapt towards Trumpet Man, where the hostages were pinned down. Trumpet Man tried to hit Spider-Woman with his weapon still pointed at the officers— and Hazel easily dodged the pathetic attempts, giving a good punch to his face. The device fell to the ground, and the officers were free. 

“Get out of here!” Hazel yelled to the officers. They obeyed as Trumpet Man tried to reach for the device on the floor. Hazel used her webs to grab it first, then attempted to rip it apart. 

“God, what is this made of?” Hazel mumbled at the complicated design of the weapon. After a few hits, a crack echoed through the room as the weapon gave away. She was surprised at the energy core— a small orb, the size of a marble, which radiated blue. It was unlike anything she had seen before. Hazel pocked the orb and threw the rest of the machinery pieces towards Trumpet Man as she felt her body snatched by two forceful hands— Noodle Arms had lunged, catching her off guard. 

“Looks like Spider-Girl’s come to play,” Noodle Arms sang, pulling Hazel’s body forward then smashing her to the ground. As her body made contact with the concrete, she grabbed onto a fallen chair and threw it towards Noodle Arms, causing him to fall back and lose grip on Hazel. 

She twisted her body and broke free, somersaulting backward and landing in a crouched position. “Nice try, but I’ve already dealt with a guy with 6 extra arms. 2 arms? That’s child’s play.”

She moved closer towards Blaster, who had been completely disinterested in whatever Hazel and the other robbers had been doing. As Hazel stomped closer, his attention shifted from the money bag to Spider-Woman, his eyes completely apathetic. 

“Alright, let’s finish this up,” Hazel said. 

Blaster cackled. He pointed the weapon towards Hazel, its entire shape pulsing with a blue electric glow. Electricity crackled around its barrel, as an unsteady vibration filled the air. 

“Yeah, I don’t think so, sweetheart.” 

And he pulled the trigger. 

Your breaths came in shallow gasps as you approached the bank. You had run for what felt like a good 20 minutes, which was enough to get you winded. Which was lowkey embarrassing, but you had no time to dwell on your lack of stamina. You latched onto the nearby policeman, heart beating out of your chest. 

“Officer, please, my friend is in there–”

The officer gently pulled you away, attempting to hold you steady. “-There shouldn’t be any civilians in there, kid. Calm down.” 

You shook your head. “No, You don’t understand— my friend, she was in juvie, and I think she’s being blackmailed into helping the robbery or something, and you need to help her–” 

“-Juvie?” The officer cocked his head, then leaned in closer, serious. “Okay, I’m going to have to write this down. So you’re saying one of the robbers is a teen?”

“She’s not a robber— At least I don’t think— I—” You fumbled, not wanting to get Hazel arrested. She didn’t exactly say what she was doing, and you didn’t want to get her into deeper trouble than she already was in. But what could you say to the officers without handing Hazel over to them as if she was a criminal? 

Before you could continue your words, a loud BANG exploded from the bank. 

Without thinking, you ran into the building. You could hear the officer trying to stop you but you ignored them, sprinting towards the door– or rather, the lack of one— and you immediately began screaming. 

“Hazel! Hazel!” You screamed, running into the building. You ignored the mess of broken concrete on the floor, eyes scanning for any signs of your friend. “Hazel!”

You could hear coughing from the deeper part of the bank, and you ran up to the sound, waving off the dust that settled all around you. Your eyes caught sight of the far away wall which had completely smashed down, creating a gaping hole identical to the one of the bank’s door. The air hung heavy, making every breath a struggle. Amidst the confusion, you spotted the friendly neighborhood Spider-Woman sprawled on the ground, her body heaving with coughs as she struggled to regain her breath. Around her was a chaotic scene– remnants of a recent explosion littering the area. 

You suddenly felt an immense amount of panic seeing Spider-Woman, the literal hero of this entire place in such a shaky state. You slowly backed away, your body reacting and telling you to fuck everything and run out of the door– but you stepped on a particular chunk of wall, making a very loud CRUNCH. 

Hazel immediately turned towards the sound, her heart dropping when she saw you. 

“Don’t come any closer!” Hazel screamed, scampering to her feet. “Turn around and run!” 

You tried to do as you were told– you really did. But your body froze up in a state of fright, your eyes focusing on the three robbers that slowly emerged from the wall’s hole. You pointed towards them and Hazel turned, groaning before running up to you. 

“What are you–” -Hazel deepened her voice. “-I mean, what are you doing here, uh, miss?” 

“I-I’m looking for my friend,” You choked out, suddenly realizing what a stupid idea this was. Spider-Woman was here, which meant this situation was a Spider-Woman level threat. You could be in real danger. But so was Hazel. “Her name is Hazel and she- she’s in here. She has blue eyes and– and dark, really messy sort of hair.”

“It’s not that messy,” Hazel mumbled, grimacing at the word ‘friend.’ She then grabbed you and pushed you out of the way as a concrete chunk from the wall was thrown towards the two of you. “Watch out!” 

You tumbled to the floor, and Hazel quickly grabbed you and got low behind the mess, whispering to you. 

“Listen to me. You’re going to do as I say.”

“But my friend–” 

“-She’s fine. She’s not here. She’s waiting for you outside, okay?” Hazel argued. “I’m going to distract the robbers, and as I’m doing that, I need you to run towards the door. Just run, don’t look back, and I’ll handle everything, okay?” 

You hesitated. 

“Answer me!” Hazel yelled. “Okay?” 

“Okay!” You yelled back, letting Spider-Woman give you a pat on the head before swinging towards the robbers.  

You scrambled to your feet, the only thing in your ears the rushing sound of your own heartbeat. Spider-Woman’s familiar voice echoed in your mind; Just run, don’t look back. But as the floor rumbled and walls cracked, you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around, your eyes following Spider-Woman as she confronted robbers. 

Hazel, not knowing you were stubbornly still in the building, intensely fought against the robbers. She moved with austere agility, using her webs to swing between the men, landing kicks and punches through the bits of rubble they threw at her. 

Trumpet man, without his weapon, pretty much rendered useless hits before Hazel managed to web him by the wall. Noodle Arms lashed out, trying to capture her, but Hazel was always a step ahead, dodging and weaving through the attacks. 

While she was distracted, Blaster adjusted the dials on his weapon, his fingers moving over the controls with an angry precision. Recovering the weapon’s blue glow, he aimed it at Spider-Woman. 

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw you, amidst the wreckage and dust— face pale with fear as you stared at Spider-woman’s movements. 

“Oh, fuck,” you muttered, realizing you have been noticed by a robber. You had to move. You had to move. But your legs felt like twigs, about to break if you tried to take another step. 

An amused grin spread across Blaster’s face, as he redirected his aim towards you. 

Hazel’s spider-senses instantly flared, a tingling sensation shooting through her body. Her head turned towards the warning, just in time to take in the sight of a weapon aimed directly at you, its blue glow intensifying. 

“(Y/N)!”

Without a second thought, she pushed off the ground with all her remaining strength, launching herself through the air.

The weapon fired, a blinding burst of blue energy hurtling towards you. 

Your body recoiled as a reaction, eyes shutting tightly expecting the blow. 

A sudden, violent crash echoed through the bank, followed by a strangled cry. 

You braced yourself, waiting for the inevitable.

But seconds passed, and the expected pain didn’t come. 

You braced yourself, eyes tightly shut, waiting for the inevitable. But seconds passed, and the expected pain didn’t come.

Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, looking through the haze of smoke and debris. Spider-Woman was on the ground, her body shaking from the attack. She had flown into the path of the blast, twisting mid-air to take the full force of the hit meant for you– sending a shockwave through the room and throwing her back against the floor, which had spiraling cracks showing the brutality of the hit.

The impact of the blast had knocked the wind out of Hazel, her every breath a struggle against the pain radiating from her chest and back. She blinked away the dust that clouded her vision, trying to push herself back up on her feet. But each movement sent sharp jolts of pain through her body, making her fall back down with her every effort. 

Noodle Arms, encouraged by the hero’s weakened state, closed in on her. His mechanical limbs headed straight for Spider-Woman’s body, as she forced herself back up. Swaying, she attempted to fight off the strikes, protectively staying in front of you.

 “You’re done, Spider-Girl,” Noodle Arms sneered, his metallic hands heading for her face. In a quick defense, Hazel pulled her face back, letting the claws snag just a bit of the fabric of her mask. With a yank, the fabric tore free. 

Fuck. 

A split-second of disbelief froze Hazel in place. The rush of adrenaline that had sustained her through the battle ebbed away, leaving her momentarily defenseless— letting a blow directly in her stomach. 

Hazel fell back, landing right by your feet as you flinched back. She immediately tried to cover her face with her hands— but you had already seen her, your eyes widening at the sight of the familiar face.

Hazel’s heart stopped.

Not like this. 

Not like this.

I didn’t want her to find out like this. 

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Not like this. 

You stared at the familiar face with a stunned expression, your mouth agape.  

“...Hazel?” 

Your body went rigid, realizing that the hero you thought could withstand anything, save anyone— was your Hazel Callahan. 

And she was bleeding out in front of you.

Your shock gave just enough time for Noodle Arms to grab you. Before Hazel could scream your name, she felt a cruel blow to her head. She toppled to the floor, body completely limp. 

“Hazel!” 

Noodle Arms laughed, grabbing Hazel’s body and tossing her over his shoulder. You struggled against the strong grip on you, eyes tearing up in utter panic.

The man then nodded towards you with a hungry expression. “What about her?” 

The man with the glowing weapon walked closer to you, examining your fearful face and then back at the unconscious Spider-Woman, as if to deduct the relationship between the two of you.

Then he grinned. 

“Bring her with us.”

“She’s slept enough.”  A voice rang. “Wake her up.” 

Blaster raised his leg, delivering a merciless kick to Hazel’s head. You gasped as she crumpled to the ground, pain searing through her head as her consciousness started to return. 

“You hear me?” The man sneered. He grabbed her by her head and pulled her up to his face. “Get up.” 

“Hhng,” Hazel groaned. Her vision started to return– and within her blurry sight she could see you, sobbing on the concrete ground. You weren’t even tied up, just far too scared to move even an inch from your submissive position. Hazel instinctively tried to reach you, but realized that she was chained– her arms tied up behind her with some metal cuffs. Hazel pathetically struggled against the restraints. “Don’t— not her…”

“Keep your eyes on me,” said Blaster, gripping Hazel’s head tighter. “If you want to keep her alive, look at me.” 

Hazel gave you a weak look of reassurance before glaring at the man in front of her. Trumpet Man and Noodle Arms sneered behind him. 

“Yeah, alright, you got me,” Hazel taunted, head spinning from the brutality of the hold. “How does it feel to win against a teenage girl?” 

The man grinned in amusement, scoffing at Hazel’s unwavering humor– before throwing an intense punch to Hazel’s stomach. Before she could properly process the blow, the fingers tangled in her hair forcefully jerked her head with a savage force. Her head snapped backward, setting her up for another brutal hit aimed at her jaw. The impact sent her body to the ground, slamming her onto the cold floor.

“Hazel!” You shrieked, quickly shuffling to her side. Her chest barely moved up and down as you panicked, pulling her to her knees and caressing her face. “Hazel, Hazel…” 

“You okay…?” Hazel whispered. You tearfully nodded. 

Good. Hazel sighed, leaning into your hand against her cheek.

“Teenagers these days…” Blaster grumbled, frowning at the two girls on the floor. “Why did you have to show up to our little robbery, huh? Now everything is complicated.” 

“It’s not that complicated, really,” Hazel wheezed. “You’re bad guys. You do bad things. I’m a good guy. I make sure bad things don’t happen.” 

She earned a cackle from the men, as Blaster crouched down in front of Hazel. 

“A good guy, huh? You think what you’re doing is good? And what we do is bad?”

“Oh, here we go with the villain origin story,” Hazel mumbled. “It doesn’t matter what your motivation is– you were hurting people. You were hurting officers.” 

“And what do they think about you?” Blaster scoffed, his eyes narrowing as he paced around the floor. “Spider-Woman, a vigilante who ignores the righteous law and pursues evil… even the cops hate you. You think you're so righteous, but you're just as much a problem as we are."

You watched Hazel clench her jaw. He had hit a nerve— Spider-Woman did not entirely have a positive image in the eyes of the law. 

Angry, you spoke up. “That doesn't justify what you're doing here. You chose this path. You chose to hurt people.”

Blaster nodded, as if to reminisce about his decision. "Choices, huh? We all make choices. Some of us choose survival. Some of us choose power. And some of us," he glanced pointedly at Hazel, "choose to play hero, even when no one asked them to."

He knelt down beside Hazel, his voice low and dangerously calm. "You think you're better than us? That you're untouchable because you wear a mask and swing from buildings? You're just as much a criminal in their eyes."

Hazel glared right back at him, but her mind was trying to figure out exactly where she was. It was definitely not the bank— based on the interior, it seemed to be an abandoned apartment somewhere, probably a hideout of sorts. There were two doors in the room.

Blaster stood back up, the blue glow from the weapon in his hands casting light on his hardened features. He saw you eye the color suspiciously and grinned.  

"You want to know about this stuff?" He fiddled with the machine, pressing a couple buttons and taking out a blue orb. "It's not just some fancy power source. This blue glow is the key to everything we've been planning.

"Years ago, I was a nobody. Scrapping for something, anything, in the mines for money. Until one day, I hit a vein. Not just any ore—a new material for a source of power. Unstable, unpredictable, but damn powerful if you know how to capture it and handle it."

“And you chose to build weapons with it?” 

Blaster straightened up, his gaze piercing through the orb in his fingers. “Smart girl. With weapons like these, the higher ups would want in. They can finally change the game. No more petty crimes. No more wars. I want recognition, respect—the kind that comes when governments realize what I can offer. This bank heist? It's not just about money. It's about making a statement. Showing them what we're capable of— what we can sell."

The man placed the orb back in his weapon, firing the machine on. You watched Hazel gulp as the machine whirred back to power. 

“Okay, well, that’s great for you, but my arm is falling asleep,” Hazel rasped, in a sort of pleading way. “Can we go?” 

“Oh, sure.” Blaster grinned again, with the same sadistic hunger as before. “But, before you go, I think there should be a lesson of what happens when a little girl acts like a hero and messes with the big bad guys.” 

Hazel’s breath hitched as the men behind him stepped forward. 

Blaster gave a nod towards you.

 “Kill her.” 

“No,” Hazel spluttered. “No!” 

“No, please, no,” You tried, stumbling away from the man who walked towards you with malice in his eyes. 

Hazel thrashed against her chains, causing her to fall to the floor again. “Stop! I’ve learned my lesson! I’VE LEARNED MY LESSON!” 

“Bet you have, doll.” Blaster chuckled. “But I gotta make sure we don’t see your ass swinging through my neighborhood ever again.” 

Hazel's heart raced as desperation hit her body, fighting against the chains that bound her. The cold metal cut into her wrists, sending sharp pains up her arms with each futile tug. Her eyes met with yours— she had never seen you so scared. 

“Please…” Hazel begged. 

Blaster's expression softened, but it was gone as it had arrived. Unmoved by her pleas, he nodded once again, ordering the arms to creepily stretch towards you. The metallic talons grabbed your throat. You tried to fight the pressure, clawing at the machine. But you had no chance, feeling your airway close as Hazel’s voice began to fade.

Before he could snap your neck, a sudden commotion erupted from the entrance of the room. Shouts and footsteps echoed through the apartment, startling everyone in the room. Noodle Arms spun around, his arms losing grip, momentarily distracted by the unexpected intrusion.

“It’s the cops!” Trumpet Man yelled. “How did they know we were here?!”

“It’s your fault! I told you we gotta get farther from the crime scene than this.” 

“Shut up,” Blaster grumbled, looking outside the window hastily. “Alright, this is our chance to leave another mark. Let’s blast through them. ”

As the men started to gather the bags of money from the floor while bickering, you quickly crawled back to Hazel. 

“Hazel— Hazel, we gotta go.”

“Yeah, just— help me up, please?” 

You helped her up, eyeing the door behind you. That was the door you came through— the door to the stairs. You supported Hazel’s body, your arm bracing her shoulders. She winced in pain as you practically dragged her to the stairs, giving a quick look back at the robbers. 

Blaster stared right at you, then at your reddened neck, as if to give a final warning.

You hastily turned back, hurrying Hazel to the stairs. 

Every step felt like eternity, Hazel’s weight heavy against you. Hearing her breath so uneven and haggard made your body run cold— you couldn't help but worry— what if she died here? The cuffs on her wrists weren’t helping either, clinking with each motion. 

You could feel Hazel leaning more and more heavily on you, her feet faltering as she struggled to keep pace. You had to admit your own fatigue— the stairs were too steep, too long. Your legs trembled as you heard footsteps above you— was it the police? The robbers?

“Come on, Hazel,” you whispered urgently, coaxing her down another step. Hazel attempted to put her foot down but she stumbled, gripping you tighter. 

“I’m sorry,” she gasped out, holding you so, so close. You could feel her entire body temperature dropping. The tears she did so well to hold now were dripping down her cheeks. “I can’t. I can’t do it, I can’t.” 

Her broken voice shattered your heart. You placed her gently down the stairs, helping her sit down. 

“Hey, hey— it’s okay. We’ll take a break. Just for a moment, okay? You’re doing so good.” You wiped her tears from her face, moving the strands of her hair out from her vision.

“I’m sorry-” Hazel continued. “This is all my fault I’m so sorry-”

“-No, it’s not your fault,” Hazel coughed. “It’s not your fault. You saved me.”

You stared at Hazel’s appearance— her usually shy and vibrant features were now marred by blood and streaks of dirt. Her dark hair was tousled and matted against her blue and purple face— she was a mess. So were you. You two had to get out of here.

“Hazel, we gotta get down,” You said. “We have to get back home.”

“No– not home. Not to my mom,” Hazel tensed. “Not my mom. She doesn’t know. No– no one can know.” 

“So where do we go?” 

Instead of answering, hazel’s eyelids drooped. She leaned her head against your shoulder as a weak groan escaped her lips.

"No, no, no, Hazel, stay with me," you sniffed, struggling to keep her upright. You adjusted your hold, keeping her steady as panic settled in your stomach again. 

You found yourself sobbing, clutching onto Hazel’s body as it slowly lost warmth. You couldn’t possibly bring Hazel down all on your own— and even then, you were sure where you were and how to get back home. 

“Hazel, I don't know what to do,” You begged, looking around the dark, empty stairwell. “I don’t know what to do…” 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed from behind. You turned around as a bright flashlight shined into your face. You flinched at the light cutting through the darkness, hugging Hazel tighter. 

“Police! Don’t move!”

It was an officer with dark brown hair braided in a ponytail. She lowered her gun as she saw you crying, her eyes landing on Hazel’s spider-suit. Her stern expression morphed into shock, walking closer to you. 

You held onto Hazel, protecting her from the stranger. 

“It’s okay. You’re okay.” The officer insisted, her eyes traveling to the cuffs on Hazel’s wrists. She stared in silence for a moment before turning to you.

“What’s your name?” 

“...(Y/N).” 

The officer sighed and looked around the stairwell. Her walkie talkie buzzed, asking for a response. Your anxiety spiked— if people found out Hazel was Spider-Woman, wouldn’t that put her in danger? 

Sensing your terror, the officer put a hand over your mouth before answering the walkie talkie.

"Stairwell is clear. No sign of the suspects. Proceeding to the next floor. Over."

You stared at her with glistening eyes as she let Hazel fall into her arms, carrying her bridal style. 

“Can you walk?” She asked, to which you quietly nodded. 

The officer began descending through the darkness. You followed her, tears still streaming down your face as the officer silently guided you down the stairs.

You never thought you would ever be in the backseat of a police car, but here you were, in the middle of the night, with an unconscious Hazel leaned against your lap. The officer had managed to break the cuffs, letting you see the cuts and bruises on Hazel’s wrist. It matched your neck.

You looked outside a window. Rain had begun to fall, each sound of raindrops hitting the roof of the car. It was almost calming, if you weren’t thinking about the fact that Hazel Callahan was Spider-Woman and that both of you almost died today. 

“How old is she?” 

The officer’s voice interrupted your thoughts, making you jump. You turned your head to the front of the car. You realized she was talking about Hazel.

“...Eighteen.” 

The answer seemed to hurt the officer, as she muttered a curse word under her breath.

“...I have a kid her age,” she said. “I’d do anything to keep him safe.”

You immediately understood what she meant.  

‘I’m not risking my son’s life by bringing you to my home.’ 

Instead, you gave her your address. You couldn’t bring her to a hospital, at least, not with what she was wearing. You just had to somehow sneak the two of you to your room.

The officer continued. “You begged me not to take you to a hospital tonight, but I want you two to get checked tomorrow, alright? My husband works as a nurse. Tell him I sent you and he won’t ask questions.”

“Thank you, Officer…” you searched for her name. 

“Morales. Don’t thank me.” She stared at you from her rearview mirror, a stern look in her eyes. “And kid?” 

You stared back. 

“I don’t ever want to see you again.” 

Her words were sharp, but once again, you understood the soft meaning behind them. 

“Yes, ma’am…”

Officer Morales gave a slight nod, her eyes briefly softening in the mirror before focusing back on the road.

You looked down at Hazel, watching the passing street lights illuminating her battered face. So fragile, yet so strong. You reached down to hold Hazel’s hand, hoping the heat from your skin will warm her. You leaned your head back, closing your eyes for a moment, listening to the rhythmic sound of the rain and the hum of the engine. 

The city continued to blur outside the window. And you too, felt yourself blur. 

Previous Chapter: The Set-Up for Chapter 4

Next Chapter: That One Patch-Up Scene in Films

@hardbeingcasual @koryianders @lottiematthewsceo @sourgummywormsss @1-danid @awenthealchemist @butterflymagic415 @samoozi @kyleeservopoulos @treehuggerfrvr @yokurts @hikaru97 @randomhoex @damnkehlani14 @byhuenii @ship-enthusiast @lamolaine @lovepityparties @cinematicdifls @sndixz

[xaharadesert]

MC Who Sleeps Like The Dead - Headcanon

Arcana Characters (Main 6) x MC

A/N: for another lovely anon! I just finished drawing one of my OCs to prepare for art fight, so I’m feeling a bit more inspired than usual! Please let me know if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes :) requests are open!

❤️Julian❤️

This is a man who runs on stress and caffeine, so he’s always up at ungodly hours of the night

Your ability to sleep through every instance of him stubbing his toe or bumping his head, or just generally swearing at whatever script or medical case he’s having trouble with at the moment is a blessing in his opinion

Of course, on the rare occasions that you manage to get him to bed, he’ll be as out of it as you are, if not more so

He flails in his sleep, and since it won’t be waking either of you up any time soon, there’s a good chance you’ll both end up with some mystery bruises

He’ll feel a bit bad about it in the morning, but it’s nothing some kisses can’t fix

🧡Portia🧡

Considering how tired she usually is by the end of the day, she’s a surprisingly light sleeper

This can be a problem for her when Pepi decides she wants to make biscuits and Portia’s the only potential victim around

So when you two start sleeping in the same bed, she sacrifices you to Pepi and makes sure she’s the one sleeping next to the wall

Pepi seems satisfied with this arrangement and leaves Portia alone, meaning she gets the sleep she needs and you get a cat to cuddle with while you’re unconscious

It’s also great for when she needs to get up early for work; she can make as much noise as she wants while she’s getting ready, and you’ll sleep right through it

💛Lucio💛

No no no, this will not do

Lucio operates under the assumption that if he’s awake, you’re also supposed to be awake

So if he’s having trouble sleeping while you’re snoozing away next to him, he will be trying his best to wake you up

His attempts will start with whispers and a couple gentle pokes, but when you don’t look like you’ll be getting up soon it quickly becomes less subtle

This man will fully kick you off the bed and onto the cold floor to get you up

If you sleep through that, he’s gonna get really close to your ear and scream

For the sake of everyone else nearby, you may need to learn to sleep less heavily

💚Muriel💚

He’s a light sleeper thanks to anxiety, and he doesn’t really understand how someone can sleep as deeply as you do

In the early days of your relationship he was a bit worried that there might be something wrong with you

Once he settles into the idea that you Will Not Be Woken Up before you’re good and ready, he takes full advantage of the extra alone time it gives him

It’s nice to just coexist with you and go about his day without worrying about waking you up

Once Inanna took a nap on you and he thought you may have actually suffocated under her, but turns out you were fine

He does not mention this to you when you wake up

💙Asra💙

While he certainly sleep often, he does not sleep heavily

If he’s sitting down, then he’s probably already at least 10% asleep

He doesn’t usually sleep in the traditional sense, and instead takes a few extended naps throughout the day

So when you’re getting your proper 8 hours, he may be laying awake beside you, gently rubbing your back and reading a book

He likes that his sleep schedule doesn’t affect yours, and that he gets to see you so peaceful and far from the stresses of life

💜Nadia💜

Most of her life is on a pretty tight schedule, so your sleep habits are not something she’s particularly fond of

If you’re asleep when she wakes up to begin her day, then she’s learned not to bother trying to wake you

She’ll kiss your temple and try to find some time to spend with you at the end of the day, but she misses the quiet moments you two could share while the rest of the world starts to wake up

Overall it’s not a hassle, just something she has to adapt to

Unless of course there’s an early morning event that you’re also supposed to attend with her

Then she’s trying to figure out the most gentle way to pry you from the hands of sleep (she may quite literally drag you out of the bed and start getting you ready before you wake up)

[arcielee]

the salver & the sword

Artwork by @azperja 💜

paring: Suguru Geto x reader summary: Prince Satoru Gojo sends his trusted general, and friend, across the kingdom to retrieve the girl who saved him when he was a boy. You loathe the idea of having your life uprooted on the whim of some faraway prince, and General Suguru Geto is determined to see through his prince's command, by whatever means. word count: 4.7k warnings: AFAB reader, more pining and angst, kissing, vaginal fingering, p in v unprotected because this is a medieval au author's note: I am reading through the manga and enjoying knitting other characters into my story. Only 3 chapters to go!

Chapter VI - If I Am With You

With Mimiko gone, there was only the option to walk the day away, until you finally spotted the gold light pouring through the streets of Shiba, the early evening already thrumming with the combination of music and laughter. Suguru pushed through the noise, the saddle bags thrown over his shoulder and Nanako glinting from his backside. You followed after, holding onto your satchel, your stomach groaning at the savory smells of cooked goods and ale that was crisp in the autumn air. 

The town was brimming from some celebration, and every room was booked for the night. Your steps grew heavy with the dull ache for a proper bath and a bed where you could sleep for a hundred years, when the name Kento Nanami mentioned entered your weary mind. 

“Who is Yuki?” 

There was the flicker of something that was tucked beneath his mastered stoicism, though the same rose tones flushed over–just as it did when her name was first spoken. It pulsed a curiosity anew that tugged at your heart, begging to ask him, but you remained silent. You noticed the shift in his demeanor when you came to the town’s border, a hesitation from Suguru and his eyes flitting over before carving inconvenient pathways through the crowds. 

It was also the first time he had not directly addressed one of your questions. Instead, he paused and watched you for a moment, your exhaustion evident. Suguru sighed softly and reached for your hand. 

The gesture swept away your mind, lost with how your palm fit within his, and you allowed the warmth of his touch to guide your steps. Together, you weaved through the festivities, pushing through under you came to a villa that was decorated with men and women, dressed in their finery, leering over the veranda bannister to tease the possible patrons drunkenly waltzing by. 

You could feel the weight of their collective gaze turning to you and Suguru, a tittering excitement that could not be missed–the general has returned!

Your eyebrow arched at Suguru, but he would not look back at you. 

He was watching the woman who walked out to greet the commotion, aglow under the manmade lights and wearing a rich, silk gown tailored to her athletic figure. Her manicured hands held an unlit kiseru, toying with it. 

“Suguru Geto,” she said with a curl to her rosy lips, “you have been sorely missed.” 

Yuki Tsukumo was the madame and the matriarch of Shiba. Her crown was her golden hair that spilled down her backside, cut to frame her heart shaped face. She seemed to lord over from the top steps, her eyes dancing over you both. “Have you come to celebrate?”

Suguru sighed again. “I admit, I was not even aware there was a reason to.” He did not balk under her gaze and his smirk returned. “The days have been lost to me.” 

Another woman in red moved forward, lighting a match as Yuki pinched her fingers around the mouthpiece, her lips pulling a cloud of smoke. “Autumn has begun, or whatever excuse they wish to make so they can drink out in my streets.” 

His eyes did not stray. “You will have to excuse us then, as we have been preoccupied by the command of my prince.” 

“I was wondering if that was dealt with.” As she looked you over, you were determined to hold her gaze. “Are you the one Gojo has chosen? You have my sympathies.” 

It seemed almost patronizing and her words burned through you, simmering to the tips of your ears. She stepped down, closer, unbothered by your silence, and looked back to Suguru. “Why are you here?” “We need a place to stay tonight, Yuki,” he admitted. 

“Oh Geto, as you can see, we are very busy,” she giggled, more smoke spilling, “but I am certain any one of my bawds would happily welcome you back into their bed.” 

His jaw ticked, but his smirk remained. “We are only needing a place to rest for the night. Gojo is expecting us.” 

Her eyebrow arched. “Very well,” and she clucked her tongue, a shift to command, looking over her shoulder with the wave of her hand to summon the woman in red, as well as a man you had not noticed before. She then began to list off instructions that sparked lift into her staff surrounding her. 

The man was first to action, tall and fit, with a searing desperation to remain unseen amongst the whores surrounding him, but rapt to Yuki, his dark eyes only holding for her. “Choso,” –he brightened with his name– “be a dear and find the general a change of clothes.” 

“I also want a bath prepared for each of my guests,” her rose eyes watched the flutter of girls dividing to tend to the task, before settling back onto the remaining woman; her attention drawled over Suguru, glossy. “I want you to escort her to the bathhouse and make sure the room has been readied by the time they have finished–forgive me, Geto, but I only have one room to spare.” Yuki smirked before she sharpened onto the woman’s scowl. “Don’t pout. It is unbecoming.”  

Her dismissal set you in motion, pulling you inside the brothel and splitting from Suguru, his hand reluctant to let you go as Choso let him away. Your legs were numb to follow up the stairs, your mind whirling from the tobacco and the incense burning, from the words still echoing in your head–

You have been sorely missed.

You clutched onto your satchel, walking up the staircase that curved around. The woman you followed was busty with a voluptuous spill from her dress. Her hooded eyes cast over the railing, admiring Suguru and Choso as they walked away, before her gaze settled onto you, her grin cutting through on her painted lips.

“The general is just as handsome as I remember him,” she began, her tone dripping with implication. “Do you not agree?” 

Of course you did–it was written plain across your face for anyone to see. Your gait shifted to match her slowed-down pace, an unease prickling your skin as her eyes continued to flit over you. “He has filled out some from what I remember. More definition,” she continued with her coy sneer. “I wonder, is he still just as insatiable?”  

“I–” you swallowed and it clawed down your throat. “He and I… we are not together in that way.” 

You were aware of the differences between his life and your own, but it was now something that was palpable, perfumed, in front of you and you were choking on it. She had you pinned as a simpleton from the north, dressed in rags and swept away with the fantasy of General Suguru Geto because of how your hands interlaced with his. 

Stupid, you blinked, desperate to keep your tears from falling. 

“Oh, my mistake,” she continued her feign sincerity that raked through you “I had only assumed, but perhaps I should try and persuade him to my bed, allowing you the room to yourself?” 

The favor offered left you raw, flustered, unable to respond, but thankfully a door opened to see the girls from before filling a porcelain tub. A rich aroma wafted through the air of rose and lavender and eucalyptus, grounding you. 

“You may do whatever you wish.” Your words were tight, and you pushed past her, stepping through the door. 

They moved to leave you alone; you tore away your tattered clothes to disappear into the milk bath, slipping beneath the petals floating above for a scream that bubbled to the surface.  

Simpleton or not, you held no aversion to sex but understood that whatever traffic came through your small village could not compare to the promiscuity that seemed well known of General Suguru Geto. That thought did not bother you–in truth, you loathed how it enticed you further–but what gnawed through your bones to drag your heavy heart into the pit of your stomach was the realization of the abyss that existed between your worlds. 

That you could never satisfy. 

Not that it even mattered.

In less than two days, you would turn down the proposal of Prince Gojo and return to the north, or wherever your silver would allow you to reinstate and build your life again. And Suguru would remain, his devotion a detriment. 

And that was what rattled through you, splintering into your chest: that Suguru would no longer be in your life, and what was worse was you could not remember how it was before him. 

Stupid! You groaned, pressing your palms to cover your eyes, the fruitless wish that you would have just let Gojo drown. 

A sharp knock on the door pulled you from your misery. “Come in?” you asked, slipping to hide yourself beneath the water’s white surface.  

Yuki entered with a bundle of plum silk. “I have found something clean for you to wear,” she announced, moving to hang it behind the dressing screen. 

Before you could stop it, your mind thought of how the color would complement his eyes, and you wished you could drain away with the bathwater. “Thank you.” 

She did not leave, but moved towards the dresser, a clink of glass as she pinched some of the hair thin tobacco to pack into her pipe before lighting it. Smoke trailing with her steps as she moved to open the wooden shutters, allowing the celebration to faintly pour in, exhaling the blue hue of smoke back into the night. 

“How long have you known the general?”

Yuki smirked as if she had been expecting the question. “A very long time, back to when Gojo would slip away from his mother and drag Geto along.” She took another drag, seating herself on the window ledge and looked over at you. “I found I could empathize with the prince. And besides, the pair of them left quite the impression.” 

Of course they did. You wilted at her words, but chose to ask her something else. “What do you mean that you could empathize with the prince?” 

She tilted her head to appraise you, pleased with your question and happy to share. She was an esteemed lady of the court and one of the queen’s favorites. A favorable match had been made, but Yuki found that she loathed the man on sight. Perhaps it was because her father overindulged her shrewd mind, but she could not stomach being wasted on a man who had to interest in anything she had to say; he only wished for a gilded decoration. 

So she left. 

“Shiba was nothing more than a little village,” she smiled with the memory. “I had a villa built to serve as a reprieve. I pulled in traders passing through for Hoshi. Then, one day, the prince showed up and relished in my whores.” She glowed with her business savvy. “And here we are.” 

Relished. “Did they come often?” 

“They returned frequent enough.” She took another drag, smoke pouring from her painted lips. “They were insatiable, really.” 

Insatiable. Another word that gutted you. “Did…” you licked your lips, pulling the courage to ask, “did they have their favorites?” 

Your mind returned to the woman in red while Yuki thought for a moment. “Gojo did, but no one seemed to hold Geto’s attention, just whatever happened to pass by. But I will say that whenever the pair would show, everyone was desperate to catch the general’s eye.” 

You appreciated her blunt honesty. It needed to be said, the reaffirmation that no one could solely satiate the general… that you were nothing more than passing memory that glimmered in his amethyst eyes. 

You changed the subject. “Thank you again for your hospitality, though I assume that he will probably find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” You were not bitter, but wounded. 

“Perhaps.” Her rose eyes glittered. “But that does not mean you cannot have your own fun tonight.” 

The warm bath blotched your skin, crimson exploding across your features. “I do not want–” 

“The festival,” Yuki interrupted you, her laughter filling the room. “There will be vendors and dancing and fireworks. You should come with me and see all that Shiba has to offer.” 

+ + + +

By the time you finished bathing, Yuki called for more girls to come and help you get dressed. Silk was wrapped around to fit your form, flowing with your steps. Your hair was braided back to the nape, allowing the rest to fall and dry in the cool air. Scented oils were touched to the curve of your neck and wrists, a rose tint to your lips. 

You walked downstairs to see Yuki awaiting, the man named Choso shadowing her. Her mirthful eyes washed over you and stopped at your feet. “The boots will make it easier for me to navigate through the crowds,” you argued before she spoke a word. 

Her eyes glittered. “You are prettier than any of my girls,” she announced, reaching for your hand and pulling you to follow. 

Shiba was magical at night. Vendors were lined with their sweets and treats and different liquors on display while dancers floated through, their streamers trailing behind their graceful steps in synchrony to the music lilting above. The silver of the moon was halted by the shining amber arc created from the lamps and torches lit. People paused with a child-like wonder and rosy cheeks, watching the fireworks bursting above between the song interludes. 

Choso was quiet, a shadow that followed after Yuki. She pulled to lead, pausing at each booth to smile at the compliments poured over her and accept whatever gift presented. You indulged with a taste of everything, anything she placed in your hands with a plum wine to wash it down. 

Benches were placed to sit and spectate. You seated yourself next to Yuki, untying the cloth to share the yaki-garu, peeling the chestnuts to taste. Choso remained standing, ever watchful, ever devoted, though his shyness melted once Yuki finally settled her eyes onto him. As another dance recital began, she looked at you before she decided to pull him away for a stolen moment. 

You remained seated, smiling, savoring the memory of the night, allowing it to embed into your bones. It would be something you pulled when you were old and gray, a recollection retrieved with a sweet sigh and smile. 

It was your name that pulled you back, cutting through, sharp and distinct. Your head snapped to see Suguru, his height above the villagers as he pushed towards you. His face was twisted, but not with the anger to match his tone, but a fear, a desperation you had never seen before. 

“I have been searching everywhere for you.” His voice was rasped and you stood up, the chestnuts falling to the ground as he reached for you. “You cannot just take off like that. What if something would have happened–” 

“But nothing happened,” you found yourself snapping, wrenching from his hold. Your agitation twisted on your face, spilling hot from your tongue. “I just assumed that you wished for time to socialize, as you seem so very popular in Shiba.” 

He steeled his jaw, but did not touch you again. “I would not think you would damn me for my past actions.” 

Always a statement, and never a question, but either way, he seemed wounded. It was not what you wanted, but you could not stop. “I did not want to keep you from whatever your… insatiable appetite desired.” 

He pushed closer, spilling into your space, his arms reserved at his sides and his purple eyes sparked with the light around. “You are stubborn to a fault, and every thought that enters your head will spill off your tongue. You have isolated yourself in a way that I wonder if you are refusing Satoru solely because you cannot allow anyone to become close to you.” 

It rattled your bones with a fury that seared to the surface. “I was trying to be considerate of what you wanted.” Your tone was biting, spurred by the busty woman from earlier–I should try and persuade him to my bed. “Was it not what you wanted?” 

Amethyst pierced through you, holding you still. “I asked you this before, but,” his voice was low, pulling you in, gooseflesh rippling up your backside. “What do you want?” 

You sputtered. “I asked you first!”

“No,” he corrected, his insufferable smirk curling back onto his lips. “You did not ask me anything, but only made assumptions.” 

“You always brim with this arrogance that you have bordered around you, walling off everyone.” You could not answer him, not with the desperation burning through you, torn between taking a step away or a step closer towards him. Suguru just watched you. “I ask you questions because I only wished to know you, but still you hold things to your chest. And your sense of duty is your excuse to keep anyone from coming close to you.” 

He dared to step closer, and you felt his heat pooling off of him. Any anger hinted from before was gone, his eyes scraping across the surface to pull apart your words. He was the moon and you were the tide, helpless with your highs and lows to be determined with whatever he would say. 

“I will ask you one more time,” –his voice was for you to hear alone, whisking the noise around you away– “what do you want?” 

The time you shared with Suguru came through flashes, memories also embedded, pouring a molten courage over to command you. It sparked with the words from Runa–he would never try anything. 

You stepped closer, your fingers trembling to hold onto his forearms, anchoring yourself to push onto your tiptoes, to touch your lips to his own. His mouth was soft and warm and it shuddered through you, your mind screaming for him to pull you in and never let you go. 

He held still and the moment stretched into an eternity, unreciprocated, shattering when your feet touched the ground again. Suguru was stunned, still watching you. 

And you ran.

Your embarrassment burned bright, igniting into your soles, your boots allowing your steps to grab onto the earth and propel yourself back towards the villa. Your mind continued to scream–you kissed him, you kissed Suguru, and it was everything you could admit you wanted, but your dilemma festered alongside a sense of indigeneity: it was something only you clearly wanted. 

You left Suguru behind, rooted by that damnable devotion. 

That thought shattered through you, shards of the fantasy that had been building now dug into you, encouraging you to flee. You ran until you saw the brothel, inside to closed doors to entertain paying patrons while the rest was emptied to enjoy the celebration. 

Your lungs burned as you continued up the stairs, your hand following the railing that wrapped upwards. Your clumsy steps returned you to the room that was prepared and you closed the door, your backside barring against as you sunk to the floor, struggling to catch your breath. 

I have to leave, your mind tacked together your next actions, adrenaline flaring a white nonsense in your mind, I will find Gojo and the queen and I will release him from this damn errands, and then I will leave and never, ever return–

There was a knock on the door that vibrated through you, pinning you to the oak floor. It did not falter and you groaned to stand, wiping your face with your sleeve, preparing to greet Yuki, or perhaps Choso, wondering where the hell you had run off to. 

But instead, you opened to see Suguru. 

His chest was heaving, his arms spread open and posted on both sides of the door frame to hold himself up. His hair was disheveled, windswept, and red stained his pale skin in blotches. He looked at you, his eyes bright, his smirk spreading across his sharp jaw. “You are,” he said between breaths, “faster than you look.” 

Your eyes widened. “Suguru…” 

He pushed through, reaching to pull you in with the tide, and you allowed yourself to be swept away, melting against his chest. He tilted his chin to reclaim your mouth with vigor, the heat from his palms burning through your silk as one hand followed your lower back to pull you closer, his other following up the curve of your spine and holding onto the nape of your neck, devouring you. 

Your heart sang, screaming as he pulled the air from your lungs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, desperate to be even closer, and he responded, his arms curling around your waist and lifting you enough for wide steps to walk you backwards until you felt the edge of the bed pressing into the back of your calves. 

Only then did Suguru break away from you, his mouth moving along your jawline back to the soft divot below your ear, his exhale tickling and his teeth nipping at your pulse. Your skin rose in response from a warmth that poured into your core, calling for him. 

“Suguru,” you breathed, taking in his sweat that mixed sinfully with the soap you gifted him, that heady scent that seized through you. 

“I’m here,” he murmured against your skin, pushing until you melted back into the mattress. He moved on top of you, his knee nudging your thighs apart to slot himself between. “I will not let you run away again.”

You blinked. He was teasing you, even now–! 

You opened your mouth to respond but he captured your lips again, his tongue curling to taste you, the sweetness from the chestnuts and wine. He found a rhythm that made you moan, and he pressed against you with a delicious weight that made your body burn. 

He smiled through the kiss as your fingers combed through his hair, pouring your passion into him. His fingers moved to peel away the top layer of silk until it puddled beneath you, pausing to admire how your curves pressed against the slip, how your nipples pebbled beneath. His tongue wet his lips. “Where do you want me to kiss you?” 

“Anywhere,” you reached for his collar, helping him pull his tunic over his head, the obsidian spill of his hair falling on his bare shoulders. “Everywhere,” you whispered with a kiss to his lips. 

Black swallowed the color of his eyes, his head dipping to place open-mouth kisses to your skin that was showing, pulling a heat that simmered to the surface. 

You writhed, you burned, you begged, “Suguru,” but he returned to swallow your sounds with another kiss that slow, searching, fluttering through your veins; your head was spinning. 

His fingers pulled at your hem to help you remove the silk slip. You were bare beneath him and his mouth moved over to worship your curves, a soft touch of his lips and tongue to taste. 

You gasped at the sensation and he pushed closer, coming up to find your lips while his fingers followed back to the divot between your thighs and slipping between your silken folds. Pleasure bloomed from his touch, his fingers searching until the softest sounds began to spill from your lips. 

He hummed into your mouth, his lips curling with his kiss. His touch was bold, sparking through you with his heedful circular motion against your bundle of nerves. 

It thrilled you. “Please, Suguru,” you gasped. 

“Not yet,” he murmured, his velvet voice tickling your skin. He kissed you again, his lips trailing beneath your jaw as his fingers continued to pull a pleasure that threatened to spill. You whined and Suguru shifted his weight, his hand moving with the craftful curl of his finger that pressed deep, sparking something that shimmered bright before your eyes. 

Your moan spilled loud and lewd from your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes glassy as he added another finger to the slick, sinful tandem, pumping in-and-out of you. It trilled the length of your spine, fluttering, pulling you towards a precipice that shuddered throughout. 

It was his kiss that followed that served as the catalyst, tipping you over to fall into the white-hot pleasure that wrenched the air from your lungs. He did not stop, but whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his fingers coaxing you through your peak while your heart stuttered against your chest, tears pearling in the corners of your eyes. 

Suguru pressed another kiss to your cheek, grounding you again, and you looked over to watch him retrieve his hand, his tongue cleaning his fingers and his smirk returning to his mouth. It was a salacious pulse that spilled onto the sheets, and you grabbed for him, pulling him close for your tangy taste that now stained his lips. 

Your fingers trembled to follow the smooth plains of his chest, tracing the scars that carved silver against his skin. Your touch stumbled down towards his heavy press against his slacks, and you paused, blushing at his size. 

He caught your elbow, he pulled you close. “We go with your pace,” he promised, kissing your lips, your cheek. “I am in no hurry.” 

You pushed him to lay back, helping to loosen the laces, and his thumbs hooked in the waistband to pull them lower. It was your turn to admire his chiseled chest and abdomen, the lines that cut into his hips. 

Suguru helped move you to straddle him, your plush thighs caging him to the bed and his length flushed, pressing upwards against his stomach. He pushed up to wrap his arm around your waist, the other pressed back to balance on the bed. He buried his face into your chest with soft kisses that tickled. 

You squirmed, your arousal spilling, and moved to lift your hips. He moved his other arm around to help line himself with your entrance, and you were slow, shaking to ease yourself onto him; Suguru molded into you, pressing against your seams.

He held onto you, his face pressing into your neck with a loan groan that reverberated throughout. You grasped at his shoulders, panting, adjusting to his girth. Suguru tilted his head up to look at you, the same careful consideration as always, and you kissed him.

It rekindled your pleasure, your boldness that burned for him, and you slowly rocked your hips against him. He groaned again, falling back onto the bed, his large hands dimpling to hold onto your hips. His neck bobbed as he watched you, a rose dusting on his cheeks that spilled onto his neck and chest; you relished his reaction when your thighs squeezed, your pace quickening.

His hands encouraged your movement, and his hips lifted to meet with your motion. You felt it building again, curling at the base of your spine, a flutter of your walls around him. His palm moved to the inside of your thigh, until his thumb could press into you with the same circular motion as before that allowed the stars to burst bright before your eyes. 

You nearly cried from the euphoria that twisted through you, pulsing and clenching tight to pull Suguru after, his brow furrowed with a guttural groan. Your head was empty and he pushed up to catch you, holding you until your heart settled, until your breathing was an exchange with his inhale to your exhale. 

“Move for me.” He pressed a kiss to your hairline, pulling away. You rolled onto your side to watch him pour water from the basin and wrung out a cloth, returning to clean the sticky spill between your thighs. 

You giggled with his concentration, his careful touch. He blew softly against your skin and it rose in response. “That tickles!” 

He was still flushed, his smile boyish. “I know.” 

He wiped himself off before he returned to the bed. Suguru then pulled you against his chest, the bare entanglement of limbs knitting into one another and holding you close like before, until your heartbeats found a familiar rhythm with one another, until your breathing was an intimate exchange. 

taglist: taglist: @sugurubabe @elliesndg @paprikaquinn @yeehawbrothers @witchbybirth @thenameswinter99

arcie's navi | jjk masterlist the salver & the sword masterlist

[spitdrunken]

vox and hid hypnosis makes me go so insane actually. there are no proper thoughts in my head about it. i can't phrase a singular thought right to convey it but man. man i sure love it.

the only image i have in my mind is him holding someone's (reader's??? y/n??? MINE?? whatever you want to call it) chin with those goddamn claws of his and being forced to look him in the eyes when he uses it

thank you so much for writing about his hypnosis i am sitting here going feral at the prospect of more

It's SO GOOD, isn't it? I'm such a sucker for characters with hypnosis powers it's NOT even funny. Vox's powers seem to be strong too, considering how he just messes up that whole crowd of journalists just like that...

notes: hypnosis

The metal coverings on his claws, ones that help him conduct electricity through his entire body, are cold against your skin. Ever so slightly, they buzz and hum, revealing the power resting right underneath. "That's it," He practically hisses out, before his scowl quickly evens out into a grin. (Perhaps because he knows he's already won.) "See? Not that hard to listen, is it?"

One of his eyes rapidly flickers between red and black. Even though you're not directly trying to look at it, eyes nearly rolled back into your head, there's no escaping it when you're this close to him, his visage so all-consuming. You make a strangled, distressed noise in the back of your throat as you feel his control start to take hold, a fog spreading over your mind, mouth hanging slightly open... And that's all you remember.

[laurfilijames]

Breathe

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x female reader

Rating: M but will be E as smut is definitely coming (I surprised myself and didn't write smut in the first chapter)

Words: 1,815

Warnings: PTSD. Anger issues. Almost passing out. Sexual tension. Mentions of previous assault (choking).

Summary: You've seen Will at the gym many times before, and he you, and today you finally share a moment, discovering your assumptions about him are right.

A/N: Here I was thinking my first character fic for Charlie Hunnam would no doubt be Jax Teller, and then this guy swooped in and floored me. (I also haven't finished SOA yet and feel like waiting to write for Jax until I do, and also my feelings about him are soooo conflicted) Will is an absolute MAN and I'm in love.

This will be a series and it will be smutty and indulgent.

---

It had almost been a year, but he would always be known as the man who nearly choked a stranger to death in the cereal aisle of the local grocery store.

Will - as you overheard him be called by the man he usually came to the gym with who looked just like him and assumed was his younger brother - often cleared anyone away from any machine out of fear; the other patrons sacrificing their workouts in favour of not wanting to provoke someone who may snap if he didn't get his way.

He was solo today, grunting and groaning to the left of you as he worked through his second set of bench presses; your eyes often drifting over to him in the mirror in the event he needed a spot.

You blinked as he slammed the heavy barbell back on its rack, shifting your gaze back to yourself performing deadlifts as he sat up and rubbed a towel over his face to catch the drips of sweat running down his tanned cheeks and into his blond beard.

Distracted, you lost count of your reps, cursing to yourself internally as you suffered through two more than was necessary, your hamstrings on fire and barely able to complete the last one with proper form before dropping the weights to the floor with a huff.

You glanced in Will's direction, catching him staring at you where he nodded before you quickly averted your gaze. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him lay back on the bench and continue another set, his noises of effort making your heart rate increase possibly more than your workout was.

Passing him to go to the squat rack, you couldn't help but notice the way his muscles flexed as he worked, the way his cheeks flinched as he clenched his teeth together tightly, similarly to the way he did even when he was 'relaxed' and not straining through an exercise.

Happy to be facing away from him, you started through your first set, thinking you were keeping track of your reps, only to find your mind wandering back to thoughts of him.

You sympathized for him, hearing his fiancee had left him after the event at the supermarket, knowing he had likely seen and done so many things people could never fathom experiencing in his many years in the Special Forces, and on top of all of it, not even being able to go to the gym without every person giving him a wide berth and downcast stares when they passed by.

"Damnit," you breathed, realizing you yet again lost track, only to be startled when a deep voice sounded behind you.

"You're at 8," Will spoke, making you glance over your shoulder to see him as much as you could as you squatted through another repetition.

"Thanks," you puffed, trying to sound as genuine as you could, thankful for his attentiveness while you did your best to look effortless in completing four more squats at the heaviest weight you had ever done so far.

"No problem," he smiled, assisting the bar back onto the rack when you were done. "I notice you lose count a lot."

He stated it so matter-of-factly, making you knit your eyebrows together quizzically as you turned to face him.

"Sorry!" he raised his hands in defense, "I'm a numbers guy, I tend to notice shit like that, I'm not trying to be an ass."

"No, it's fine," you returned with your own smile, "I guess I just never thought anyone would pay close enough attention to something like that, especially to someone they don't know."

Will tilted his head to the side and shrugged, like he wasn't quite sure what else to say to explain his behaviour.

"I appreciate it, though," you added, seeing a sort of discomfort crease in his features. "Saved me from doing an extra one. I thought I was only at 7."

Your laugh seemed to relax him, bringing out a light in his blue eyes and his smile that you instantly knew you could become addicted to seeing.

"Well, I'm happy to have helped, then. I'm Will, by the way."

He held his hand out, and taking note of the size of it as well as the length of his fingers, you swallowed and extended your own, meeting his eyes as he shook it with a firm grip.

"I know," you answered, seeing your response immediately wash a shameful look over his face.

He quickly withdrew his hand and moved it up to scratch his head, coming to terms that everyone knew who he was and the reputation he had.

"I've heard your brother," you accentuated as a question, "say your name a few times here."

"Oh, uh, yeah, that's Benny, my younger brother," he confirmed, placing his hands on his hips with a sigh of relief that your recognition of him wasn't only due to his infamous incident.

"Was he in the Service, too?"

"Yeah," he nodded, biting his lower lip.

"Your family must be proud of you both," you stated, positioning yourself under the bar to begin another set.

"Some days more than others," he said quietly, watching without shame as you lowered yourself into a squat and powered back up again with an enticing thrust.

Will cleared his throat, "You've got great form."

The tone in his voice made you steel yourself before continuing with another rep, feeling adrenaline rush through you that wasn't on account of the weight-lifting.

"That's it, breathe through it," he purred, that voice of his making you lose focus.

You closed your eyes and exhaled deeply, trying to match your breaths properly with your execution but failing, your mind going to a place you couldn't deny it hadn't been before in all the times you worked out at the same time as him.

It was good to work until failure, you reminded yourself, but as Will counted you to your twelfth and final rep, you struggled to reach the top of your squat let alone get the bar back on the rack.

Will effortlessly took the weight of it in one hand, lifting it easily for you to set it back in place.

"You okay?" he asked, assessing you with concern as you wiped moisture from your brow while his other hand rested along the small of your back.

"Yeah, thanks."

He stood close to you, enough for you to smell the intoxicating scent of his sweat mixed with lingering shower gel or cologne, and when you turned, his hand fell away from you just as yours felt the intense need to touch the dampened cotton shirt that clung to his warm body.

Suddenly feeling dizzy, you shifted on your feet and reached out to grip his forearm for support, shaking your head and apologizing.

"Sorry, that's the heaviest I've lifted and I guess I didn't eat enough for breakfast before I came," you stammered, looking up at him to see his face screwed up with worry.

"Hey, it's fine," he soothed, his hands holding your shoulders in a strong, reassuring grip. "Just breathe."

You did as he suggested, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply and slowly, your hand loosening on his forearm only slightly while he remained unmoving.

"Good, that's good," he whispered, his face leaning closer to yours, and you didn't dare open your eyes again in fear you really would pass out.

"Keep breathing," he repeated, prompting you to continue what he was quickly causing you to forget.

Another slow, calming breath filled your lungs, and when you blew it out gradually through your parted lips, Will spoke again, his fingers pressing into your shoulders.

"Good girl."

Your eyes flashed open, his words making you feel like you were in a haze, his crooked smile and glint in his alluring blue irises creating the opposite effect this whole exchange was meant to have.

"It always helps me," he admitted, his eyes not shifting from yours. "Whenever I'm stressed or angry…to breathe through it."

"Does that happen often?" you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"Hmm, sometimes," he began, not seeming offended at your question. "Less than it used to."

"You must have been through a lot," you spoke, letting your thoughts come out freely, your hand giving a reassuring squeeze over one of the tattoos covering his forearm.

Will licked his lips, leaning slightly closer to you, holding in a breath despite knowing he shouldn't in a moment like this.

"Hey, are you done with this?" a man asked, pointing to the squat rack that was left abandoned beside you, his unexpected voice startling you both.

"Yeah, man, go ahead," Will answered, nodding at the man once and giving him a curt smile.

You watched Will size him up as the man switched out the plates on the bar, like he was waiting to see if anything impolite would come from his mouth next or turn into a threat somehow. The veins in his neck bulged as he increased his breaths, his cheeks flexing again due to his teeth clamping down on each other forcefully. When the other man continued about his business, Will seemed to blink back to reality, his chest still heaving sharply as he struggled to find calm.

Not thinking twice, you reached up and placed your open palm on his chest, directly over his furiously beating heart, bringing his attention over to you along with a sense of surprise.

He blinked quickly and sighed, his eyes searching yours for something to help him until you spoke.

"Breathe, Will," you coaxed, reminding him of what he needed to do, seeing him close his eyes and begin to slow it down until his breaths eventually matched yours.

"Thank you," he muttered, reaching his hand up to cover yours that remained on his warm chest, giving it a gentle squeeze as he flashed you a weak smile.

"Hey, I was gonna grab a protein shake from that smoothie bar down the road after, why don't you join me?"

"I'd love to," you beamed, feeling more than okay with ditching what was left of your workout to go with him, the look on his face making it even more worth it as he grinned brightly and took your hand to lead you toward the change rooms.

"Grab your things and I'll meet you outside," he ordered gently, revealing his effortless ability to delegate, and your willingness to want to comply.

Will leaned against the side of his truck as he waited, sighing to himself while he attempted to sort out everything he was feeling; the mix of wanting to lean in and trust you overpowering his usual go-to of staying distant and playing it safe, all of which was confirmed when you walked out the doors and instantly brought an easy smile to his face.

---

Part 2

Taglist: none!! Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in this series or any other Charlie Hunnam roles I may write for 💗

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Rape, assault, choking, slapping, suicidal thoughts, feelings of hopelessness.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my babies, here is the next chapter.

I wanted to preface this by saying, please be cautious with the trigger warnings, it is going to be a heavy chapter. I also wanted to say, be kind in the comment sections and what you say, there may be survivors who read your words.

If you are at all triggered, please know that you are not alone, and that you are a survivor, and there are people you can talk to and get help with.

I think we all knew that this was coming, but even still, it feels wrong to say enjoy this time. Tread carefully, and be kind to yourself <3

Chapter 74: A Crown of Thorns 

Another day went by in your chambers, time moving at an odd pace. 

Sometimes it moved speedily, at others seemingly dragging on. You did not sleep that evening, sitting on the chaise as Helaena and Lucerys stood by the fireplace, continuing to whisper together until you had grown so used to their sound, that you did not find discomfort any longer. 

It grew to be a noise that was like a breeze outside the Keep, brushing against the windows or through the corridors, or the soft crackling of the fire.

A sound that blended into the background, like the waves that would crash against the cliff-face of Dragonstone, or the soft discernible buzzing of Flea Bottom.

There.

Inevitable.

Inescapable.

Despite being in the Keep for only a few of moons, you felt as though you had been there for a lifetime. It was a strangeness that you couldn’t shake off. And an uncomfortable reminder of how much time you had lost with your family. 

Another loss to never be gained again.

Your body had begun to feel weak, lack of sleep and proper meals scraping roughly against the sinews on your bones. You forced yourself to eat a meal, watched on by the maids that morning, concern evident in their eyes. 

You finished the bread on your plate, and the entirety of the sweet star fruit one of the girls had neatly cut up for you with your own knife and fork. You had even indulged in three slices of beef, and attempted to swallow a roasted tomato. But the tomato did not go down smoothly, its wet and slimy texture causing you to gag as soon as it hit the back of your throat. 

You had drank your tea under the eyes of the maids, who had whispered words of praise as you drank it, promising that it would make you feel better and that you should be yourself in no time. That Aemond would return soon, and perhaps they could escort you on a walk through the Gardens to lift your spirits.

They were kind. They were patient, and the walls that they had guarded themselves with when you first arrived had been lowered significantly. You even felt that they had come to care for you sincerely, and not just as a part of their duties. 

You missed Saria and Aella.

The meal had definitely helped your spirits, and your body felt slightly better being given some sustenance. Yet your mind was still raw, Helaena and Lucerys had been by your bed when you had woken, their whispers peeling back layers of dwindling resolve. 

Though as you had eaten, they had left from your sight, their whispering voices still ringing in your ears.

In truth, you were exhausted.

Mentally and physically.

It felt like an uphill battle. 

You would take two steps forward, and five steps back. Your mind waxing and waning through strong and brittle. Memories of the past striking fear seemingly out of nowhere at times, and storms of uncertainty racing you towards the edge of a cliff you knew there was no coming back from. 

But surely this was progress. 

The road to recovery was a long one, and although your side had healed, it still came to irritate you.

Where there was once an open wound, now sat puckered and scarred skin, still sensitive to the touch if you pressed it. Some days it would twinge, and small sparks of discomfort would rise up your ribs if you sat at an odd angle, bumped it against something, or even if one of your gowns was too tight across the new skin.

At moments like those, when your elbow would push pressure against it, or the side of the chaise would dig into it meanly, or Aemond’s hands would grasp or tease, you could feel the phantom pains of when it had once been opened. You could feel the way in which the new skin was now pulled taut by scars and ached at random.

Sometimes it even itched, and you had to gently let yourself rub the pads of your fingers, no nails, across it to soothe the irritation. 

The scar, you supposed, was similar to your mind. 

Though it had healed, there was still the presence of what had happened. There was still the pain and uncomfortability, the voices and visions, and reminders of the past whenever those corners of the mind were pressed or disturbed. 

Like your scar, if the wound was touched, even though healed, it would still offer a reaction. It would ache, or itch, or send panic rearing through you. And this was something that you hoped would heal with time. 

You just needed time.

And time was what you had, though the looming threat of Aegon did little to the scars on your psyche which were poked, and prodded, or scratched by the sharp nails of paranoia and justified rage.

You doubted the lacerations to your mind had even begun to heal, and if they had, any little progress they had made, any scabbing over, or the prospect of change had been picked away by the circumstances surrounding you. Relentless fingers pulling at the platelets that had formed over the injury, blood and memories spilling forth, setting you back to where you started from. 

The same open wound.

That evening, when the maids had come to your chambers, you had ate with little fuss, though your stomach cramped at suddenly being so full. You had nibbled at the warm bread and feasted on cooked potatoes and legumes. Even indulging in a goblet of wine, which somehow settled your nerves. 

A quick fix to a longer issue.

When you had finished your meal, the maids, who had not left the chambers as you ate, hovering about, pretending to tend to their duties, when in reality they were casting quick and short glance over their shoulders at you, readied you for bed. 

The vanity sat in front of you as one of the maids had begun to brush out your hair, combing it gently as she looked at your face in the reflection. A soft humming came from her chest as she worked, untangling your knots.

It was a tune that plucked a string of familiarity within you. A musical lilt that felt ancestral to its core, and you found that it calmed you almost immediately. 

There was something about it, something that made your brain tick.

You shifted in the green cushioned seat and looked the girl in the eyes.

“What are you humming?” You had asked, voice soft. 

The girl cleared her throat and stopped, “A daughters song, Princess.” She responded meekly.

“Would you sing it for me?”

You wished to hear it.

To feel it.

For it to drown out any whispers in the back of your head, or the corner of the room. You wished to hear it for what it was, to see if it did hold familiarity or if it was, like many things in that present moment, just in your head.

The girls hands stopped in your hair as she looked at you, before a blush spread over her cheeks. She looked down and then over her shoulder at the other maid, who had discontinued fluffing the same pillow she had been arranging for quite some time. 

Clearing her throat again, she nodded, “Yes, Princess.” And began unsteadily, as if nervous for your reaction, uncertain if she would be punished or berated. 

“Come now my daughter, come sit beside me, rolling green hills, and a mountain of flames,” She began, and you let yourself lean into her hands as she kept them threading through your hair.

“We sit one last time, two parts of the same, a curse to be born, a woman’s last name. A woman of duty, a wicked hearts game, a wife’s job is set, the children are tamed.” As she continued, you realised that you had not heard the song at all, though the melody reminded you of a memory you could not discern.

“The girls life is done, the woman’s life breathes, rise with the sun, and rest with its leave. Clipped of your wings, never to fly, a woman’s one job, is to let her man die.” The maid looked down, not meeting your eyes as her hands stilled in your locks.

As you made no move to punish her, or reprimand her, or even correct her, she continued, voice a fair bit more confident, though still soft and gentle, “We all face the fate, no woman can hide. The sins of the flesh, till the woman has died.”

You blinked sheepishly at the girl as she distracted herself with brushing your hair, not daring to look up at you.

“Why is that so familiar? Is it a Westerosi song?”

“I’m not sure, Your Grace. My mother used to sing it to me.”

“It is quite dark.” You mused softly, reflecting on the song.

‘Clipped of your wings, never to fly.’

“It is a song about becoming a woman, Princess. It is not an easy road, especially for common folk. It is a song sung to us to prepare us, should we ever be married.”

You hummed in agreement, “Thank you for sharing it with me. Is your mother-“

“Gone.” She uttered, voice hoarse with emotion, “A fever when I was a child, Your Grace.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. She sounded like a wise woman to sing it to you.”

“She was.” She smiled softly at you in the reflection. 

The smaller maid came to the both of your sides as the other took her hands from your hair, “Will you be needing anything else from us, Princess?” She asked.

“No, thank you both.” You smiled at them, though it twitched from strain, “You may rest for the evening.” 

As the girls turned to leave the chamber, a crawling sense of shame and realisation washed over you. 

“What are your names?” You called across the chambers, looking at how the two girls stopped to turn and face you, not looking down at their feet, but instead directly at you.

The eldest of girls who had mousy brown hair, and deep brown eyes, bowed her head as she spoke, “Amala, Your Grace.”

The youngest whose hair was a deep blonde, skin littered in freckles followed the other, bowing her head and looked down as she introduced herself, “Joanna, Princess.”

You smiled at the both of them, a genuine smile, and repeated their names on your tongue to the chambers. 

“Apologies for not asking sooner," You apologised sheepishly, "Thank you. You may leave.” 

The girls gave another short bow and smiled at you before leaving the chambers, the orange of their robes disappearing out the chamber doors. 

You sighed, back bending on the vanity chair as you relaxed without their presence. 

Exhaustion seeped into your bones, and your eyelids grew heavy with every breath you took. Looking across the room, Helaena and Lucerys stood by the fire watching you, mouths moving, and only snake-like hissing coming out as they whispered. 

Wearily you moved, and got into bed, promising yourself that you would only rest your eyes, if only for a moment, and then you could rise again and stay vigilant. Yet resolve flew out the window as soon as your leadened limbs laid on the plush down of the bed, and the soft doona was pulled over you. 

Laying your head on the pillow, you kept your eyes on the chamber doors and waited. But the wait was longer than your body could stand, and so your lids grew too heavy to hold open and slid shut, the depths of sleep dragging you under. 

Dreams of serpents surrounded you, their glistening yellow bellies and scales of emerald green shining against the stone floors. 

Jet black eyes stared at you as the largest of snakes rose its head. 

A forked tongue flicked out. The thin, pink muscle rattling in the air around you as it watched you with beady eyes, tasting the air.

Tasting you. 

It hissed, large fangs showing as it begun to curl around your feet, winding its way higher and higher up your body, its muscles constricting you. 

And yet there was nothing you could do, and nothing that you did do but watch as it wrapped around you higher and higher, pressing your arms to your side as it hissed in your ear. Your mind screamed at you to move, but your body refused, knowing that it could not escape its fate.

Knowing what was to come. 

Making peace with its own demise.

The serpent pulled back to look you in the eyes as it curled its body around you tighter. Its scaled gums pulled back, revealing rows of needled teeth as it grinned at you.

“He is coming.” It hissed, before striking forward towards your neck.

You woke with a start, a sharp biting pain on your flesh as you felt weight atop you. 

The chambers were dark, and all you could feel was your heavy limbs that were held down by a weight atop you. You jerked, breath coming out of you in a gasp as the feeling of teeth on your neck pushed you to the surface of consciousness.

Your heart galloped in your chest, beating against your ribs.

In the dim of the chambers, the teeth relinquished your neck, head rearing up to look down at you. 

There, above you, hands holding your arms down and thighs pinning your own beneath him, sat Aegon. His teeth shone in the night as he looked at you, canines glistening predatorily as he realised you had woken. 

Fear coursed through you as you began to thrash beneath him, desperate to get out of his grip as he held you down, his short wavy hair halo’d around his face. 

“Thought you’d never wake up.” He grinned excitedly.

“Get off me.” You growled, trying to shift your legs to knee him between his.

He tutted you with his tongue, cocking his head as his hands tightened around your arms, bruising the tender flesh, “That’s not very nice.”

“Fuck you. Let me go!” You yelled into the chambers, hips bucking up as cold dread settled over you. 

Please, Gods. Not this.

“Why do you fight this?” He mocked, “Why do you try to honour my brother when he fucks Alys? He has left you here,” A sick grin crawled wider across his face, “All alone.”

“Fuck you. Get off me! Kn-“ You began to call out to the knight for help, to see if he would respond, but Aegon’s hands lifted from your arms and pushed down on your throat roughly, pushing all air from your lungs and preventing the scream which had begun.

“You think the Knight would help you?” Aegon sneered, as you thrashed beneath him, pushing at him with all your strength, “Do you think he would listen to you? I could command him to come in here and make him watch, and he would do it. Should I call him for you?” He growled, fingers tightening around your throat, the room beginning to spin. 

Please Gods, have I not given enough?

Your hands flew up to grab his, nails digging into the skin as you desperately tried to pry them from your neck. The muscles in your back cramped painfully as you tried to push up and away, to throw him off of you, but the Kings hands did not relent, and the world around you began to fade into black, the chambers softly floating away.

You relaxed beneath him, mind going numb as his laughter faded, hands releasing slightly. Air rushed into your lungs as you coughed and spluttered beneath him. One of his hands slid down your body to yank your chemise up from your thighs. 

Grunting you tried to wriggle away from him, one hand lifting to try and claw at his face which he batted away with ease. His hand continued to pull up the chemise as you jerked in his hold, one hand still on your throat squeezing.

No. 

Gods, please, no.

Not him. 

Anyone but him.

“You know, I think I like it when you pretend that you don’t want me. The chase makes it far more enjoyable.” He purred, wine on his breath as it fanned over you. 

Your voice was trapped in your chest.

You wished to scream at him.

To tell him to get off you.

To cry for help.

But nothing came out. 

Aegon slapped your cheek playfully with one hand as he cooed at you.

“Should have taken you as my second wife, just as Aegon the First had. You and Helaena could have been sister-wives, and I could have watched you both swell with my seed.” He smiled, as you tried to push him back.

Aegon grabbed your throat roughly, pushing down, jolting your head and holding you, grin staring down at you in the dark of the chambers. The room dimmed as you struggled to breathe, legs kicking pitifully beneath you. 

And then you were floating. 

Not there in the room. 

Not beneath him.

Not feeling anything but the pain against your throat and an odd numbness that began to surround your body. You could hear the mumbled voice of Aegon, but it felt so far away. 

So far away. 

You felt like you were fading. Drifting, and drifting, like a ship sails the sea, bobbing atop the waves as it moved through crystal waters on its way to a destination, weightless and carried by the tide. 

But you didn’t know where your destination was, and instead you were being carried, drifting in gentle waves that told you not where you were going, moving you as you faded further and further into the darkness. 

Until you lifted away.

Gone. 

A weight moved across your body and the world came back around you, ears ringing as your body was jolted. A coldness spread down you as you slowly moved through the abyss and back to the room.

There was a voice, mumbling to you. 

But you didn’t want to leave the numbness and dark you had sunk into. You wanted to stay were you were. You wanted to keep your eyes shut and bask in it.

There was no pain there.

There was no fear there.

There was nothing.

Not even you.

You were so tired. 

Why wouldn’t they let you rest?

Someone was speaking to you.

Why wouldn’t they just let you sleep?

The pull on your throat steadily brought you to the present, and feeling shot back through your body. 

There are hands on you. 

Hands all over you. 

Hands touching you and pinching you. 

A hand slapping your face roughly, snapping you back into the room. 

Your eyes opened as Aegon sat atop of you, lips moving but you couldn’t hear a word he said, your ears ringing loudly in your skull. The world tilted and confusion rolled through you.

Your throat hurt.

Why did you throat hurt?

You groaned trying to shift him off of you. 

Why was he on top of you?

Aegon kept talking down at you, and as your body slowly came to be, and feeling moved back through your mind, you felt a rough pressure against one of your breasts as he squeezed it meanly in his hand.

You tried to squirm away from his grip, mumbling as he smiled at you. 

“Get… off me.” You uttered softly, still dizzy and unsure of what was happening.

Aegon knelt half on you, half off, his knee pressed down on your stomach, as one large hand pinched painfully at your nipple, and the other moved between your thighs. You jerked in his hold, trying to get out from beneath him as a large finger forced its way inside of you.

You cried out as he thrusted his hand into you painfully, not caring for your pain or confusion. Pain rippled up from between your thighs, his fingers scratching against you dryly. 

“Fuck you’re tight.” The King growled from above. 

The world tilted, and you felt as though you were to be sick as he continued to fuck his hand into you, the other rolled a stiff nipple between his fingers. Tears began to gather in your eyes as the world caught up around you and realisation sat in.

This was it.

You could scarcely move from your spot beneath him. Every jolt of his hand stirred your head and made you nauseous, and all you could do was whimper beneath him, desperate to not throw up. You thrashed on the bed, feeling his fingers slip out of you.

The hand on your breast moved back to your throat and squeezed. The chambers grew dark, and your vision blurred as you looked at Aegon. His figure slowly disappearing as you faded away again. 

You were so tired. 

If you closed your eyes maybe this wouldn’t be happening. 

If you closed your eyes, perhaps he would not be there anymore. 

Your eyelids grew heavy and slid shut, and you felt yourself fade away from the world again, drifting away on the waves that pulled you in with its tide. 

Please let me stay here.

Everything around you was black until it wasn’t, and you were blinking your eyes awake, a sharp pain blooming across your cheek.

“Stay with me, I want you to watch.” Aegon growled, as a tear slide down your cheek and onto the pillow below. 

“Aemond.” You whimpered, head fuzzy, fear mounting within you. 

Your heart was in your throat.

Fight back.

Fight back.

Where was Aemond? 

“Aemond isn’t here to stop me this time.” He purred, “I’m going to fuck an heir into you like he should have.”

“He’ll kill you.” You slurred, tongue heavy.

Aegon laughed earnestly, “He won’t. I’m his brother, and you’re nothing but his whore.”

A sob fell from your lips as he laughed in your face. Despair settled in the pit of your stomach.

The King adjusted himself atop you, slapping away your hands as you tried to push him off of you again, kicking your legs out underneath him weakly, sheets tangling at the end of the bed, raising your head to chase his hand as you tried to bite him. 

One knee slid between your thighs and then the other, parting you open for him as you tried to pull yourself up the bed and away. Aegon wrapped his hands around your throat again and squeezed, rutting his clothed cock against you roughly, enjoying the way you cried beneath him. 

Please, let it be over.

You felt yourself begin to drift away again before he let go of your throat, your head lulling to the side as your body jerked from lack of oxygen. Your uncle jerked his pants below his ass, pulling his cock free before leaning over you. He rubbed his tip along your entrance and you felt the urge to be sick. 

It was like the dungeons. 

The feel of the stone beneath you. The dampness of the room. The darkness of the cell. 

It all came rushing back as you sobbed beneath him.

“I’m going to fuck you, the way I should’ve in that cell.” He pushed forward, rubbing himself along you as you cried and clawed at his hands, “The way I should have when you first came back to Kings Landing.”

Aegon squeezed your throat, causing dots to form in your eyes as he forced you to stare at him, jerking your head. 

“I’m going to fuck an heir into your cunt, and watch you swell with my child.” 

Across the room, the whispers of Lucerys and Helaena had quietened, and all you could hear was the heavy breathing of your uncle who began to force his way inside of you. 

Please, Gods, spare me.

You cried out in agony, sharp burning pain rippling through you as he forced himself through your folds dryly, huffing a laugh of pleasure as he pushed to his limit, seating himself inside. 

You felt yourself tear as he jolted you up the bed with his thrust, crying out in pain, splitting you open on his cock as your eyes scrunched shut. Your hands raised to claw at him again, trying to reach his face or chest, but Aegon’s hand around your neck tightened further.

This was it.

You wished you would die.

You wished he would kill you as you sobbed beneath him. 

You were so weak, too weak to fight back as he pulled back slowly, moaning as he went, looking down to where his cock speared you. There was a wetness between your thighs that you knew was blood, and you whimpered again as he slowly pushed back inside of you. 

“Fuck, your little cunt is so tight for me. Are you sure you’re not a maiden? You’re bleeding on my cock like one.” He huffed, continuing to slowly push himself back inside of you, each and every inch of his cock sending agony racing up and down your spine as your legs were forced open beneath him.

“Aemond’s probably fucking a bastard into Alys right now as I fuck one into you.” He laughed, your heart clenching in your chest as you sobbed loudly into the chambers. 

“Don’t cry,” The King cooed, thrusting harder into you, “It is an honour to have my seed inside of you.” 

You coughed beneath him as he picked up his pace, pistoning his hips into yours, your body jolting beneath him. The pain never leaving you, and a sickness settling into your stomach. 

Please let me die. 

Please let me fade away.

Please Gods, take me away from here.

“Please.” You uttered. 

Please, Mercy?

Please, Gods, help me.

Please, Aemond, return to me.

Please.

Aegon moaned as he heard you whimper, and let go of your throat, a lungful of air racing through your mouth as you gasped. Aegon fucked himself into you, the sound of his grunts and his flesh slapping against yours filled the chambers with your sobs. 

And there was nothing you could do but endure.

As you always had.

It was only a matter of time.

This was inevitable, you told yourself. 

It was always to happen. 

You could never stop it. 

Aemond could never stop it. 

The Gods had made it so. 

It was to always happen.

Your head lulled to the side as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your walls painfully, your breasts jerking beneath him as he fucked you up the bed.

You silently cried as Aegon raped you mercilessly in Aemond’s and yours bed. 

Eyes looked anywhere but him, searching to be anywhere but beneath him. To feel anything but him tearing through your walls, or the way his cock bruised your cervix.

The fireplace was blurred, and beside it, two figures watching you.

Aegon’s pace began to increase, the bed creaking as you sobbed quietly and gagged, begging in your mind. You kept your eyes on your aunt and brother. 

Please, help me brother. 

Please, aunt. 

Please.

But they did not come to help. 

Nor did they whisper. 

Instead the pair watched on from the fireplace. 

Helaena’s face full of sorrow, and Lucerys’ of rage.

A numbness began to creep through your mind, the same numbness you had felt before. The numbness that had crawled through your veins at the night of the wedding, and instead of fighting it, you welcomed it with open arms. 

Take me.

Aegon became more vocal the closer he got to his release, his moans and groans cascading into the air as his thrusts became sloppier and more painful. You blinked into the dark, slumping in the bed as you prayed he would finish soon. 

That it would be over soon.

“Kepa.” You whimpered, calling out to your father that you knew could not hear you. 

That you knew could not help you. 

That you knew could not save you. 

Aegon groaned loudly, and suddenly it was over. 

He pushed himself as deep as he could go and you felt the heat of his seed begin to pool against your womb. Nausea rolled inside of you, and you retched loudly, feeling the food you had pitifully eaten begin to rise from your stomach. 

The weight of the King settled atop you as he laid his body down from exhaustion, cock still twitching inside of you.

Searing pain spread through your core as you blinked the tears away, still crying beneath him.

It was over. 

It was over.

It was over.

Aegon shifted, pulling his now soft cock from inside of you, a moan tumbling from his lips as a whimper escaped yours. 

You laid still, mind reeling, body frozen as he looked down at you. 

“Let us pray you birth a King’s bastard.” He snickered, your head still turned as you looked at the fireplace, Lucerys and Helaena watching on.

The tears continued to flow down your cheeks, and the familiar comfort of the murky tide rose to swallow you whole. It tugged you beneath its surface and dragged you under more rapidly than it had the first time, and you swam with it, diving down into the abyss.

And then it was quiet. 

And then it was still.

And then it was over. 

You do not know when Aegon had left, nor if he had left without a word. But your mind sought solace in the cold numbness that spread through you, and you let yourself drown in it, turning on your side to stare at the wall unblinking.

The sticky wetness of his seed and your blood on your thighs had begun to dry as your tears subsided. 

The pain still strummed inside of you, but it did not feel like you, it was as though you were experiencing someone else’s pain. It was unfamiliar. Alien.

Uncertain.

Soon, the room faded away, and the world around you fell silent, and all you could feel, was the feeling of not being. 

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[where-theres-smoak-2]

Bridgerton Season 3 ep 1-4 Thoughts.

Just binged watched bridergerton season 3 part 1 for the second time and figured I'd share some thoughts. I haven't read the books so I am going into this season blind and so far the first 4 eps have not disappointed. Oh and spoilers obviously.

I love that this season started the exact same way as the other two, with the bridgerton family getting ready for one of the girls presentation to society. This time it's francesca. I also love that this is the third time they've done this but they are still a chaotic mess.

I love penelope's new look, every one of her dresses were stunning and I think the greens and blues were really good colours for her.

The new dynamic between eloise and penelope is interesting. There is clearly still a lot of hurt there, but eloise also still cares about penelope and doesn't like to see her hurt. Honestly most of their scenes made me feel really sad for them both, they clearly miss the friendship they had and each other but don't know how to repair things between them.

Seeing a different side to Cressida through her new friendship with eloise is interesting. There were moments where I sympathised with her, but also, she hasn't completely reformed and there were still moments when her meaner side came out. But it was still interesting to see where her behaviour comes from.

That being said I am glad that cressida called eloise out after it came out that Colin was helping penelope find a husband and eloise blamed her. Basically telling her to look in the mirror. As much as I do love eloise I also think she can act recklessly and speak without thinking and that has gotten her and others in trouble over the seasons.

It was also good to see more of and get to know francesca as a character. I really liked the conversation she had with penelope about how when you get stuck on the wall it's hard to get off it again. I think both penelope and francesca have trouble talking with others. They also are both desperate to marry so that they can leave the family home. For francesca it's because she struggles with the noise and bustle of a large household when she prefers solitude and quiet. For penelope it's to get away from her overbearing mother and sisters.

Penelope's attempts to flirt made for some comical moments but was also really relatable. That awkward fumbling over her words and just generally looking uncomfortable was spot on.

Speaking of comical moments, that whole plot of lady featherington trying to get her girls to produce an heir was hilarious. But also kind of shows how the ladies' mamas really need to start having proper conversations about the birds and bees before their daughters become wives if they want heirs.

Some really great moments throughout the season were the scenes that reminded us of how penelope and Colin were friends for years, those little moments when they are laughing and joking together. I also love that we learned how they met, their meet cute really was cute.

I really loved polin's first kiss. I think penelope's reasoning for wanting Colin to kiss her was relatable, she was in her third year on the marriage mart with no prospects and feels like she will never marry and never know what it's like to be kissed. So she asks her friend so that she can at least know what it feels like. Colin might be someone she has crushed on and been in love with for years but him also being her friend means she trusts him and feels safe with him. What I also love about this kiss is that they could have left it at that first chaste meeting of their lips. But their eyes lock and then they go back in for a more passionate kiss as the music soars and it goes from a friend giving another friend a kiss to help them out to a real, earth moving, world shattering kiss that leaves them both reeling and breathless.

Another thing I really enjoyed is that it is Colin who after that kiss is the one having dreams and fantasies about penelope and has jealous feelings. We've seen how penelope has longed for and been in love with Colin over the last two seasons so it was a nice change to see Colin showing those feelings and trying to come to terms with his feelings.

Lord debling is nice enough and seems like a decent guy but I agree with Colin, I don't think he is right for penelope. I don't think penelope would be happy being left alone for years at a time. I do think she wants the companionship of a husband and I think it is telling that her happy, safe place was the bridgerton drawing room, being amongst the bridgerton bustle. Cressida could be a good match for debling potentially. He can travel and be happy exploring nature and I think cressida from her comments in ep 1 about loving London would be happy staying in society and entertaining. It could be an arrangement they are both content in.

The marquess that the Queen introduces to francesca is another gentleman who I think is OK, seems nice enough but again I don't think he is right for francesca, he wants a big family with lots of noise and that is not what she wants.

However I adore the relationship between francesca and John sterling. I just love how they didn't need any long flowery conversation in order to feel a connection to each other. In fact it was their mutual love of peace and quiet that bonded them. He is someone she could enjoy quiet evenings with, someone whose company she could enjoy but without the pressure of forced socialisation and conversation. I can see them spending their evenings in a drawing room with her playing the piano and him enjoying her music. Simple but contented. Out of the two, him and the marquess, I hope she chooses Sterling.

With that being said I am starting to feel sorry for the queen. Each season she tries to set a bridgerton up with someone and every season they choose someone else least minute instead, daphne turned down the Prince for Simon, Anthony ended up not with Edwina but her sister instead and I suspect it's going to go the same way with francesca where she will be courted by the queen's pick but will ultimately choose John sterling. Honestly at this point Charlotte just give up, stay far from the bridgertons and enjoy the drama from a safe distance.

Let's talk about violet bridgerton. It seems she herself may have a romance this season in lady Danbury's brother, spoilers for queen Charlotte, but I do find it kind of funny that Danbury had an affair with violet's father and now violet might be getting with Danbury's brother.

Keeping on the subject of violet I love how well she knows her children. She always sees right through them. She could tell right away that francesca was smitten with Stirling even if she is a little confused about how they don't really talk much to each other. Also one conversation and she figured out that Colin has fallen in love with penelope. I also love that moment when Colin says he isn't coming to the ball and violet not so subtly tells him that penelope may be getting engaged that evening and what a shame it would be for him to miss it. She knew exactly what to say to get him to that ball and confessing his feelings to penelope before it's too late. Love you violet you are a legend.

Lady featherington is an interesting character because I do believe she genuinely loves her girls and wants what's best for them. But her idea of what is best for them is too make sure they marry and they are financially secure. I also think she wraps her own fate up in her girls fortunes too she knows her own security relies on them having a male heir. Unfortunately despite her love for her daughters she often says things very hurtful to her girls in particular penelope, which doesn't make her a very likable character. That conversation between her and penelope in ep 4 right as penelope is leaving the ball after debling's rejection is an interesting moment. Lady featherington's first reaction is to blame penelope for debling leaving, penelope rightly calls her out asking if she only has value if she has a lord's engagement ring. What's interesting is that this statement clearly hit Lady featherington hard, you can see that she feels guilty, I think this is further punched home when prudence comes running up to her telling her she's pregnant and asking if she is excited. I think it's a moment where she realises how many expectations she has put on her daughters and how that has made them believe that her love for them is conditional on them meeting these expectations. I am interested to see if this realisation changed her behaviour towards her daughters going forward.

That carriage scene, ice someone get me ice. Honestly the chemistry between them was perfect, sizzling in fact. Also of course they ended it with Colin proposing. I am really excited to see where its going to go next especially as Colin still has to learn that penelope is whistledown. I feel like a whole lot of drama is coming our way.

[standfucker]

"My Boy"

Characters: Jinbe

Reader: trans male

Word Count: 4k

CW: explicit N.SFW content, monsterfucking vibes, size difference, vaginal penetration, double penetration in one hole, creampie, exhibitionism/risk of getting caught, oral (giving)

Summary: Polite interactions with your newest crewmate turn a little less polite when you catch each other ogling during a shared bath.

Ao3 Link

@jinbeioyabun

🎉🎉 Happy Birthday El! 🎉🎉

For most of the crew, the best part of getting swept up into yet another conflict is the post-battle celebration. You tend to be more like Zoro–you enjoy the fight itself more than anything, a chance to really cut loose and prove your worth. But when the town you’d inadvertently saved offered the crew their private hot springs to use, it wasn’t something you were going to pass up on, either.

The other men had already finished their soak and gone ahead to the feast. You lag behind purposefully to have the springs to yourself, wanting some peace and quiet to relax properly. As much as you love to fight, it takes you a while to wind down from all the chaos, needing a few hours to really calm your body and mind. You care for the others, but you’d prefer to bathe without the background noise of Zoro and Sanji bickering, or Brook and Franky’s general silliness.

Warm, humid air wafts into your nose and hugs your skin as you step out into the men’s private springs, the warm humidity a comforting promise of the steamy bath you’re about to enjoy. There’s several natural pools in the hot springs, the biggest sporting a cluster of rocks in the middle that men liked to jump off of. You’re about to step into the biggest one when you notice someone off to the far side of the spring. Only his head is sticking out of the water, but the color of his skin makes him stand out against the gray of the rocks. A twinge of disappointment quickly dissipates–it’s just Jinbe, his eyes closed and a serene look on his face. The placid, honorable helmsman is the most favorable of your crew to run into here; you can look forward to a calm soak if it’s just him around.

Jinbe opens one eye upon hearing your footsteps, then closes it again after seeing it’s you. Sliding off your towel and folding it up, you step into the springs. The hot water around your legs is a stark difference to the air around you, almost a little too warm, but you don’t wait to adjust, walking down the scarped steps cut into the rock.

An involuntary sigh escapes you as you’re immersed up to your shoulders, the heat wrapped around your body pleasant and soothing. It’s a little more intense around your healing cuts, close to a sting, but your tired muscles are so relaxed by the therapeutic heat that it well makes up for it. You hear a gruff chuckle come from the other end of the pool.

“It’s really nice, isn’t it?” Jinbe says, smiling warmly. “I never got to experience hot springs until long after I became a pirate. Such a luxury is exquisite…”

“Mhm,” you agree, feeling the bottom with your foot to get an idea of how deep the pool goes. It’s deep enough that the bottom slopes away from your feet, and at least deep enough that Jinbe can soak his entire body. That’s saying something, given that he’s almost ten feet tall. “Makes sense. They don’t exactly form under the sea.”

“No. A shame–the hot water feels great going through your gills.” Jinbe dips his mouth into the water, taking a gulp, and you watch with some fascination as the water flows out of his gills and trickles down his neck. He lets out a sigh of contentment. Your eyes widen slightly as he rises, his massive upper body breaking the surface so he can hook his elbows onto the bank and lean back. “The contrast is nice, too. I enjoy how cool the air feels on my skin.”

“Mm,” you reply, the sight of his broad, broad pecs erasing proper words from your vocabulary. They’re hefty and thick, a layer of fat that you know hides powerful muscle underneath. His upper arms are the same, deceptively soft looking until he flexes and shows the bulging of huge muscles. You’ve always had a thing for big guys, and even more so for Fish-men. Finding Jinbe attractive was a given, but you didn’t really anticipate the effect seeing him naked would have on you.

That’s probably why he catches you staring. You realize it too late, your eyes meeting before you rip your gaze away. At least he’s too polite to say anything about it. He scratches the back of his neck while you look anywhere else.

“You fought well today,” he says awkwardly, but sincerely. “Given my brief time in the Straw Hats, I haven’t had the chance to see how everyone fares in combat.”

“What, did I surprise you?” you ask, grinning at him.

“Yes and no. I knew you’d be strong, but I didn’t expect you to tank hits as well as you did. I’m always impressed by the resilience of humans. Especially the smaller ones.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you shrug. “But I’m alright. Look, this is the worst that I got today.” You stand on the tips of your toes so your shoulders come out of the water and point to your clavicle. There’s a long cut across the middle, and while it bled a lot initially, it was just shallow enough to not need stitches.

“You were injured?” Jinbe says, pushing himself off the wall before you can respond. Dipping low again, he moves through the water toward you swiftly and gracefully. Even on land, he moves elegantly, surprising considering his size, but it doesn’t compare to how he swims. The water seems to part around him, barely disturbed like a swan gliding across the surface.

“Just a little,” you say, taking a step back despite yourself as he reaches you, rising up out of the water. He’s even bigger up close, looming over you. The proximity makes your heart pick up its pace. You can’t help it–he’s just so big, and he’s looking at you with such concern. 

“Has Chopper seen it?”

“No. It seemed minor. I didn’t want to bother him while he was helping people who really needed him.” You have to crane your neck back to look up at Jinbe.

“As a former captain, I’d admonish you…but truthfully, I would have done the same.” He chuckles. “I’m no doctor, but I have treated my fair share of injuries. Do you mind if I take a look?”

“Oh. Uh…” You hesitate, caught between flattery at his concern and bashfulness. “No, I don’t mind.”

Jinbe lowers himself in the water so he’s at eye level with you again, inching closer to get a better view of your cut. You turn your head as he leans in, unable to meet his eye at such a close distance. You can feel his breath on your skin, the soft warmth making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Despite the warmth of the hot springs, you still feel a heat creeping into your cheeks.

“It’s not bad,” he says after a minute. “You made a good call this time. Did you disinfect it?”

“Y-Yeah.”

“Good! It should heal up nicely.” He smiles big, making your heart leap, and then he perks as he notices something else. “That’s a nasty bruise there.” He gently rests his fingers on your arm, right below the deep purple bruise on your shoulder.

“It’s, uh, it’s no big deal,” you shrug. Jinbe’s lifted your arm slightly to inspect your shoulder better, and you swallow at the touch. His webbed hand is so large it wraps entirely around your arm. “J-Jinbe…”

“Ah!” he lets go, seeming to notice your unease. “Am I making you uncomfortable? My apologies.”

You laugh nervously, trying to play it off. “Come on. Being doted on by a big, handsome guy would make anyone tense.”

Jinbe’s completely taken by surprise, mouth slightly open as he goes quiet. He clears his throat, and a slow, adorably shy smile stretches across his mouth. “I must say, it’s not often you get that sentiment from humans.”

“I’ve always found fish-men attractive,” you say without thinking. Immediately you realize what you said and start stammering. “I mean, um, you know. You guys are often pretty big, and, uh, really strong, and, I look up to that, and…”

His smile grows as you talk yourself into a corner. “You know,” he says thoughtfully, “it’s not unheard of for fish-men to be interested in humans, either.”

Your stomach does a funny little flip. “Do you…do you know any fish-man like that?”

“You could say that.”

You finally meet his eye. His sheepish grin makes you smile, too, even as your heart pounds. He doesn't move away, and up close, you notice the darkened, violet mottling above his left gills.

“You're bruised, too,” you say, reaching for his neck. Jinbe lets you, angling himself to give you easier access. You brush your fingers lightly over the spot, careful not to press down, and hear his breath catch. Glancing at him, you see the skin of his face tinged violet as well, something you somehow missed earlier. You touch his cheeks gently. “Oh–you also got hit in the face, huh? That's never fun.”

Jinbe clears his throat. “Actually, er, that's just a blush,” he admits, gaze averted.

“Oh!” You yank your hands away. “Sorry. Am I making you uncomfortable this time?”

“Naturally,” he grins cheekily, “being doted on by an attractive young man would make anyone nervous.” Your cheeks flare even hotter at the revelation, more so when Jinbe takes your hand, enveloping it in his large one. “I don't mind. It's nice.”

Your heart stutters in your chest. “I think so, too.”

He puts your hand back where it was on his cheek, glancing aside shyly for a second before looking at you again. He steels his resolve, taking a breath, before he says your name so gently it makes a shiver run down your spine. “Y/n…”

“Yeah?” Entranced, you lean in until there's only a few inches of space between you, and Jinbe answers you by closing the distance, pressing his lips to yours hesitantly.

The contact is fleeting, a brief testing of the waters, but it feels like little fireworks setting off beneath your skin. You two blink at each other, and then you place your other hand on his cheek and pull him back in for another. Like the first, it’s soft and uncertain. The next kiss is more sure, and by the next one, he’s placed his hands around your hips, squeezing when you gently lick along his lower lip.

It’s a little different from kissing a human; his mouth is so wide, for one thing, that he can’t really close it over yours properly; instead he lets you do most of the work, your tongue probing and tracing patterns across the expanse of his. Bringing his hands up your sides to support you, he tilts you back, pressing heated, messy kisses against your mouth. You wrap your arms around his neck, just able to dig your fingers into his hair at the base, and kiss along his lower lip, nipping by one of his large lower fangs. You can’t resist a little chomp on his fang, either. 

Jinbe growls, a sound that goes straight to your dick. “Careful,” he rumbles as you press your cheek to his fang. “They’re sharper than they look.”

“I guess you biting me is off the table?”

He chuckles. “I won’t bite you, no. But if you hold very, very still,” he warns and promises at once, “I can do this.” With the utmost delicateness, he drags the points of his upper row of teeth down your neck and over your shoulder, leaving faint, ashy lines. The sensation tickles and teases, the razor’s edge of danger, drawing a soft whimper out of you. His control is so good it doesn’t even sting.

“Jinbe,” you breathe, running your hands down his broad chest and scraping your nails against his skin–comparatively dull, but he groans appreciatively all the same. “Would you think less of me if I told you I really, really liked that?”

“Of course not,” he chuckles and pecks your lips fondly. “I find it attractive.”

“Okay,” you say, “‘cause for the record, this is my first time kissing a Fish-man, and it’s better than I imagined.”

“Than you imagined?” Holding onto you, Jinbe rolls over so you’re propped up on his chest, both your lower halves beneath the water as he swims backward easily. “You imagine yourself with Fish-men often, do you? What else do you imagine?”

He’s confident now, shining eyes fixed on you, and you meet his challenge. “Why don’t I show you?”

Jinbe pulls you in for another kiss, the two of you making out until his back hits the opposite wall. Now in only about three feet of water, you slide down between his legs while Jinbe leans back on the sloped bank.

Through the water, you can see the faint outline of his cocks–there’s two–each one at least as thick as your forearm and just as long. Arranged vertically, they’re slightly darker than the rest of him, with a purplish flush beneath the skin. The top one is erect and rigid, the other one halfway there. You try to act nonchalant at the sight, as he’s currently watching you with some amusement. Rather than make a comment, you reach for the lower one, and Jinbe sucks in a breath as you wrap your hands around it.

The skin is silky and warm even under the hot springs. You stroke him from base to tip, thumbs pressing into his frenum, making him gasp. The lower member quickly swells from the attention, stiffening until it’s as big and rigid as the upper one.

“You don’t seem surprised,” Jinbe comments.

“Didn’t want to be rude.” you respond, making him grin. “You’re, um…you’re impressive, to say the least.”

Jinbe’s about to reply when you take one cock in each hand and start stroking firmly, pressing them against your stomach, his balls resting on your lap. Whatever he was going to say turns into a soft gasp. Like a human, he seems to be more sensitive toward the tip, so you focus your attention there. Though you can’t see it, you can feel a sticky, mucousy fluid coating the heads of his cocks, spreading down his shaft by the movement of your hands.

“Ah…you… you’re certainly eager to please, aren’t you?” he praises, one hand cupping your cheek.

“You have no idea.” Taking a deep breath, you plunge your head into the water, shutting your eyes tight, and take one of his cocks into your mouth. His pre-cum is thicker and saltier than a human’s, but otherwise doesn’t have a strong taste. You stuff as much of the head of him that will fit and suck. His groan cuts through the water, cocks twitching in your hands.

As a non devil-fruit user, you’ve gotten plenty of swimming practice rescuing the other members of the crew, so you can hold your breath for some time. You easily spend a while sucking him off, stroking the opposite cock in the meantime, and when you finally surface to take a breath, you switch to the other.

Jinbe pants and groans above you, fingers digging into the pool’s rocky edge, doing everything he can to resist thrusting up into your mouth. Even for him, it proves to be a challenge; you feel his hips shift forward as he squirms just a little. The filthy act already has your cock engorged, but knowing you’re putting cracks in his iron willpower just riles you up worse. To have someone as powerful as Jinbe writhing beneath you is a thrill like nothing else.

You surface, gasping, just a bit light-headed from holding your breath repeatedly for so long. Without hesitating, you start to mount him, but Jinbe stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Hold on,” he says. “Is it safe?”

“I don’t have those parts anymore,” you say. Jinbe looks down at your stomach, and the lack of scarring there. “Law removed those for me the last time he sailed with us from Zou,” you explain. “I told him I’d owe him a favor if he would do it for me. Afterward, he told me I didn’t owe him anything as long as I didn’t tell anyone he did it for free.”

“A soft side, hm?” Jinbe chuckles. “Rare for a warlord.”

“I could say the same about you.” You move over his lower cock, lining him up while he holds your hips steady. “For all your strength, Jinbe, you’d never hurt me. Even if I wanted you to.”

Jinbe pauses for a moment, then leans in close. “Don’t misunderstand, Y/n. I’m still a Fish-man,” there’s a low, gravel to his voice now, “I still have my urges. Now,” he starts pulling you down onto his cock, and you gasp as the broad head spreads you open wide, “Shark fish-men don’t bite our romantic partners by nature. Our teeth are too sharp. However…” He doesn’t slow down or give you time to pause, and your fingers dig into his stomach at how easy it is for him to manipulate your body, how his cock spears in deep and bottoms out only halfway down, how his thickness forces your walls wide. “Stuffing you full–” Jinbe presses your back against the pool wall, ”–taking you for myself–” he starts to thrust up into you, “filling you up–” he growls by your ear as you whimper, “all are things I crave doing to you.”

“Jinbe!” you cry, trying to brace yourself against the rocky wall. It’s smooth enough to not cut, but you think he might bruise you if he gets too excited. But he’s currently fucking you so good that you don’t have it in you to care, especially not when his upper cock rubs against your own with every thrust.

“That’s it, my boy, just take it,” he purrs, “you wanna know what it’s like to fuck a Fish-man, I’ll show you.”

There’s so much pre-cum he slides in and out of you with only a slight resistance, and it sticks to your sensitive skin, something you realize must be an adaptation for sex underwater. The upper cock is painting it along your stomach as he fucks you. Your eyes roll back at the dual onslaught.

“Gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Already?” he teases, “I don’t know if to be flattered, or scold you for your endurance.”

“But it feels–ha–so fucking good,” you moan. “Can’t–help it!”

“Cute.” Jinbe chuckles. “Then go ahead–let go for me.”

A few more thrusts, and you’re forced over the peak, your eyes shutting tight as orgasm overwhelms you.

“Ahh–mmf!” Your cry is cut off as Jinbe’s hands wrap around your mouth. He holds you there for a second as you ride it out, shushing you.

“Someone’s coming,” he hisses, pulling you away from the pool’s edge and rapidly swimming backwards. He takes you around the other side of the cluster of boulders in the middle of the springs, hiding behind them. You go still, listening; a moment later the sound of voices reaches your ears–Franky and Usopp. 

Jinbe pulls out of you, only to turn you around, facing you away from him and lining up his upper cock with your center. You look over your shoulder at him in shock. “Jinbe?” you whisper harshly.

“Just be quiet,” he whispers back. “No one will hear with our bodies underwater, so long as you don’t make a sound.”

“But–!” you bite your lip as he starts to penetrate you, his lower cock now positioned to glide over your own.

“Shh.”

The water in the center of the pool is too deep for you to reach the bottom; all you can do is brace your hands against the boulder and take what Jinbe gives you. Every thrust pushes your body up a little, but as you remain submerged up to your shoulders, there's no sound. However, the pleasure proves to be too much of a challenge as you stifle back a whimper.

“Mind your noises, boy,” Jinbe whispers. “You don't want them to hear, do you?”

You're caught off guard by this boldness coming from him–you'd never have thought he was the type. It seemed you had a lot to learn still about your new crewmate.

Franky and Usopp's voices get a little louder as Jinbe presses kisses to your shoulder. You bite your lip in pleasure and nervousness, now able to hear their conversation. The sound of splashing water reaches you both, and upon realizing the other men have entered the hot springs, you tighten up despite yourself.

Jinbe grins against your back, licking up the back of your neck to the shell of your ear. He doesn't need to say it out loud; you already know he's delighted to find out you like the risk. Unable to speak, you're entirely at his mercy in the water, helpless to the pleasure he commands all through your body.

Jinbe shifts, and you feel the head of his second cock nudging up at your entrance next to the first. You give him a shocked look over your shoulder, he tilts his head and raises a brow in question. You can practically hear him ask: Do you want it, boy? Can you take me?

The other men’s conversation grows louder, something about collaborating on a project. They have to be less than 30 feet away now.

You make your decision on a whim, nodding your consent, and Jinbe grins.

The push of his second cockhead is an immediate, challenging stretch, your insides gradually pushed apart to accommodate him. He doesn't stop until he physically can't fit another inch, stretching you taught around him. Like this, there's a constant, firm pressure against your g-spot no matter how he moves, something that makes your legs go weak. You're only held up in the water now by his cocks stuck inside you.

There's no way Jinbe can thrust like this–you're too full. Instead he rolls his hips against yours, humping into you so that his cocks grind up inside you. Your eyes roll back at how good it feels, his hushed panting warm against the back of your neck. One of his hands reaches around to cover your mouth, the other goes between your legs to jerk off your cock, instantly making you twitch and squirm. You keen into his hand, prompting him to squeeze tighter.

Jinbe leans in to growl lowly into your ear. “I was wrong about your endurance. Look how well you're doing…want me to fill you up, right here?” You nod fervently. “That's a good boy…”

He pins you to the boulder, rubbing faster circles on your cock, grinding himself so hard into you there's a slight, sweet ache. It lasts for another secret, filthy minute, until suddenly Jinbe's pace stutters and he breathes out harshly as he hits his peak. Both his cocks spurt into you at intervals, hot stickiness filling you and forcing your walls to swell even further. The sensation pushes you over the edge, your moan muffled into his hand. The orgasm rocks through you, walls spasming around him as you ejaculate into the water.

He holds you there for a minute while you both silently ride out your highs, catching your breath. Then he gently pulls out one cock at a time, only uncovering your mouth afterward. Jinbe presses your legs closed as he whispers into your ear.

“Better not let any spill out, my boy. You'll contaminate the spring even more.”

“Who's fault would that really be?” you mutter.

He chuckles and kisses the top of your head. “Come on. You'd better get back to the showers. Want help?”

“I'll be okay,” you smile wryly. “The real challenge is to climb out of the spring without spreading my legs.”

“I can take care of that.” He hooks an arm around your middle and swims you to the far edge of the pool, where he lifts you up easily and places you out on land.

You have to shuffle awkwardly to keep everything in as you walk around the perimeter toward the showers. Your towel was on the shore by Franky and Usopp, but they've seen you naked before during group baths, so that's not an issue. They call out to you as you come into view, mentioning their surprise that you were there at all.

“Yeah, Jinbe and I were soaking around the corner,” you say, keeping your face as straight as possible.

“Oh, he's here too? I didn't hear you guys.”

“We weren't talking.”

As you waddle off toward the showers, deftly avoiding eye contact, you figure you're technically telling the truth.