#these covers are so [cries wails sniffling and sobbing]

[mactavishsgfandwife]

Dad!Simon Helps Your Daughter When She Falls Over :((

inspired by this ADORABLE instagram reel 💞💞💞

Your 3 year-old lets out a little gasp as she slips over on the ice and after a moment of shock, she starts to cry out. No words, just a stream of tears and wails of pain, frozen on her hands and knees, bare palms against freezing, snowy ground.

"Daddy!" she cries out, by which time her father is already knelt down at her side, "Dada!"

"Hey, baby," his usually gruff voice sounds soft and low as he gently strokes his daughter’s hair away from her tear-stained cheek, trying not to show how much it affects him to see her with big, sad eyes and so clearly in pain.

“Tell Daddy where you’re hurt.”

"M- m- my knees!" your little girl sobs, leaning into her father’s chest as he picks her up and cradles her in his arms, just as he did when she was younger.

Her bottom lip trembles, and she whimpers softly into Simon’s shirt, sniffling and covering him in tears. Her little hands are sore from the fall, and your husband takes both of them in one of his much bigger, stronger, rougher hands, his thumb gently caressing her knuckles.

"Let me see…" he gently rolls her trouser legs up to see her knees, which aren’t bloody but just a little sore and grazed from her fall. Taking care not to hurt her fragile skin, he leans closer and gently kisses her chubby toddler legs better. It looks funny, this big, scary man being so gentle and loving with a little girl in her pink raincoat, but he doesn’t care. Anything for his daughter.

"Need plaster, daddy!"

"You don’t need one, love, you’re not blee-" he looks down only to be met with her big, teary eyes and sad little pout, her tiny heart so sad not to be getting a plaster.

"Alright, y’get a plaster," he chuckles softly, giving her a tender kiss on the forehead, "you’re such a brave girl."

thanks for reading :P

[konigsblog]

könig stuffs his big, calloused fingers into your swollen, drooling cunt while fucking your tight asshole, driving you utterly insane.

you're reduced to a dumb little thing spread out on his bed. könig hunches over your figure, looming over you with his hung and girthy cock stuffing your tight asshole full. you can feel the way he curls his calloused fingers inside your pussy, his digits spreading you out, covered in your slick wetness, folds swollen from being so aroused and turned on. he's obsessed with the texture of your velvety, gummy walls, thrusting into your tight, wet hole ruthlessly while cooing at his sweet angel for being so sensitive, fucking you into stupidity.

your jaw is slack, moans and mewls flowing from your lips like a harmony, singing to him between deep breaths and choken cries. you're barely able to catch your breath, with your breathing becoming fast and laborious and your nipples perky, hard, and stiff, sensitive to the slightest touch. you babble and wail out incoherently through euphoria, your wrists bound behind your back with rope binding them together, every inch of you exposed to könig, who shows you mercy or forgiveness.

his calloused, scarred thumb rubs against your sensitive clit in small circles, your hole pulsing around his meaty girth. you whine and whimper pathetically, regretting your disobedience and misbehaviour.

your cheeks are glossy and wet from sobbing, with your hole burning from being stretched out, split open around his weeping, fat dick. you can smell könig's cologne, the spicy and woodsy scent of leather and cedarwood, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. you coat könig's length in a coat of your pearly stickiness, your juices dripping from your puffy cunny, unable to hold yourself back as you come around his hard dick suddenly and uncontrollably, legs trembling.

you couldn't resist the urge and temptation to let go, apologising profusely through sniffles and broken sobs. he curls his thick fingers inside your hole, pulling them out to force his fingers in your mouth, gagging at the intrusion of his glistening digits.

he'll continue to use your asshole for however long he desires, while you suck on his fingers, forced to enjoy the taste of your arousal. :(

[i23kazu]

SLEEPY PAPA CUDDLES

characters. neuvillette x gn!reader genre. domestic romantic fluff. an. MORE melusine daddy content. please send help guys i literally cannot stop making daddy neuvi content | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D

on the days when some of the melusine get sick, neuvillette wishes he could stay home.

the heartbroken wails of his sick littlest ones pierce his heart – but as chief justice, he rarely gets to take the day off. even after scouring the pages of the fontainian law books, he finds nothing that allows him to take parental leave because his child is sick... because you're a stay at home parent.

(therefore, the responsibility falls onto you to take care of the little ones, as much as neuvillette would like to share it with you.)

early in the morning, you feel some sort of movement within your bed... you sleepily turn to look at neuvillette getting up and walking to your littlest's room.

"it's alright, ma trésor... papa's here." you can hear him attempting to soothe little puca.

puca's cries resound through the halls of the house, neuvillette's quiet shh-shhs soon following. it's not long til you hear the sobs that turn to whimpers, a sweet picture of puca laying her head on your husband's shoulder forming.

it doesn't get better when everyone is awake. iara, puca, and mela are all now down with the same cold puca cried her little lungs out for last night, and all three sweethearts sniffle at the dining table, hot soup freshly ladled out in front of them.

"papa, don't go! please?" iara cries, tugging on neuvillette's sleeve. justice has no time left to waste, and neither does your husband.

"i'm sorry, ma petit ange, but i have to go to work," neuvillette responds remorsefully, picking up iara and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"but i don't want you to go! stay home! i want to stay with you!" iara wails, burying her head in neuvillette's shoulder. he begins to bounce her gently on his hip.

"i'll see all of you tonight, ma chérie. alright? i'll come back early today."

at last, little iara's hands seem to finally let go of neuvillette's shirt, her sobs still wracking her frame.

"come here, sweet girl," you gently hug her from behind, gathering the little melusine in your arms. iara bursts into wails once she hugs you tightly, heart broken over feeling sick and having to say goodbye to papa.

you distract the children while neuvillette slips away to work, undetected. the rest of the day goes somewhat smoothly, with the older ones helping out around the house while the younger ones rest in bed.

by the time the clock says that papa was about to come home, all of the little melusines that lived in your household were all fast asleep, hands softly tucked under the covers.

"i'm home-" neuvillette walks in, setting his work bag down. why was it so quiet? a typical day included a chorus of "welcome home, papa!" and the pitter-pattering of melusine feet padding to the doorway.

"mon cœur! please, calme– i just got the bébés to take a nap," you shush him, cracking open the door to the melusine's room, just a touch.

neuvillette wants to laugh. never in his... centuries? eons? of life, did he ever think he would have evolved to be a man of domesticity.

i know nothing of french all of this was google

reblogs w/ tags & comments appreciated !!!

taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @softcosmixs @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @aqualesha (send ask to be added to taglist)

[hazbinwhoree]

Adam x reader whos rlly rlly drunk and strangely asking for... Err baby making.

And adam is rlly hesistant because reader has a very low sex drive...

So when adam refuses (because hes all about boundaries and consent) reader cries and just kinda vents about shit that has no relate to baby making or even anything about tht night.

And in the morning she wakes up so fresh and happy and has no memory of last night, even being so affectionate to adam<333

Consent King

(Name) had a much lower tolerance than Adam, so it didn’t take long into their drinking before (Name) was absolutely wasted. Adam had a nice buzz going, but quit to take (Name) home.

As soon as they were in the door, (Name) was immediately on him, trying to kiss him. Adam let her kiss him, but when her hands moved down to fumble with his belt, he stopped her. “Woah, babe-” “Let’s have sex,” (Name) slurred.

Adam was taken aback. (Name) was very rarely the one to initiate sex, and he was very tempted to take her up on it. But she was sloshed. He steadied her with large hands holding her shoulders. “As much as I would love that, you’re pretty trashed, babe.”

To Adam’s shock, (Name) burst into tears. “You don’t find me attractive anymore,” she sobbed. “What? Babe, no!” “It’s truuue,” she cried, slurring her words slightly. “You don’t want meee.”

Adam was flabbergasted. “(Name), that’s not true! You’re just really drunk right now.” “So?” “So you can’t consent. I’m a lot of things but I’m not a fucking rapist.”

(Name) continued to cry. Adam was at a loss.

“I wish I was prettier,” (Name) blurted out suddenly. Adam frowned. “You’re hot, babe, what are you talking about?”

“No,” (Name) wailed. “All your groupies are so much hotter than me, I don’t even know why you chose me.” Before Adam could even respond, (Name) continued. “You’re probably cheating on meee.”

Adam shook his head, stunned. “I’m not… why would you think that?”

(Name) shrugged and sniffled. “Because look at *hic* you, then look at me. You could do so much better.”

Adam pulled her into his arms. “I love you. I’m not cheating on you. You’re the hottest bitch in the world to me. My groupies are whores, they don’t mean shit. Stop being a dick to yourself.”

(Name)’s tears slowed as she cuddled into Adam’s chest. “Really?” she asked quietly.

“Really.”

A moment of silence.

“‘M tired,” (Name) slurred. Adam rolled his eyes. “I’m not surprised. You’re wasted.” “Whateverrr.” When she turned towards the stairs and stumbled, Adam scooped her up bridal-style.

“I can wa-alk,” (Name) protested.

“Shut up.”

Adam carried her upstairs to their bedroom. He cradled her in one arm while he pulled the covers back, before gently tucking her into the bed. He crawled into bed next to her. Protectively, he draped his wing over her and pulled her into his chest.

(Name) slung an arm over his waist, gripping the shirt material at his back. It didn’t take long at all before (Name) was fast asleep. After watching her for a while, Adam himself fell asleep.

He woke up to (Name) running her fingers through his hair and gently scratching at his scalp. “Good morning,” she cooed. Adam sighed contently. “You’re feeling better.” (Name) was confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh you were a mess last night,” Adam teased. “You wanted to have sex and I said no because I was pretty sure you were blacked out, and boom, I was right. Anyway, you lost your shit a little.”

(Name) looked embarassed. “Oh my god, I’m never drinking again.”

Adam laughed. “It’s okay, babe, I still thought you were cute. Even when you were drunk crying.”

(Name) tapped his head. “Shut up,” she mumbled.

Adam laughed. He couldn’t help but tease her. “Seriously though, you were fine,” he reassured her.

“But now that you’re awake and sober, wanna have sex?”

[thecapricunt1616]

Daddy!CarmyxA sick lil baby 🥺

Ok call me deranged but there was the cutest lil baby angel when I was out at dinner tonight, coughing her little heart out!!! My first thought was

‘What in the world is that sick little angel doing out of the house’

And my second thought was

‘If Carmys little princess was coughing this way, he would’ve gone to the ER in tears. ‘

More BTC

ok so the baby is about 20 months, at the point they can verbalize they aren’t feeling good. Carmy wakes up one night, dead of Chicago winter, I mean it’s that nasty dry cold. The cold that you go outside to grab the mail and your nostrils are sticking together. And when he wakes, he hears his baby fussing on the moniter.

Now it’s not her normal fuss, and that worries him. First thing he hears her and he freezes, like he clutches his girl in fear freeze, because why does cub sound like that??? And when he hears her little whimpers and whines of discomfort he is up faster then could make your head spin.

When he makes it to her nursery, she’s stood up in her crib, sniffling, a big pouty face on. As soon as she sees her daddy she knows she’s gonna be taken care of and just lets go. She’s sobbing, sniveling.

“Da-dada- dada feel sit. Dadas I feew sit” and his heart it just achesss. He’s like

“Yeah princess? You feel sick, mm? You want some cuddles from dada?” And he picks her up ofc she lets out all of her frustrations right away since she now felt safe that daddy was here, sniffling and wailing into his bare chest and letting out tiny whimpers since her little body aches and head pounds.

He hushes her while he bounces her gently, walking briskly over to the bathroom off her nursery and opening the medicine cabinet and grabbing the baby mucinex, perfectly dosing it out as he football holds her and by memory tells her the Goldie locks and the three bears story.

After your daughter woke you up by scream crying Through the monitor you hear “There was a big Daddy Bear, a middle-sized Mommy Bear, and a sweet tiny little Baby Bear, just like you princess! She wasn’t much bigger than Goldilocks herself.” He explained, squirting the medicine in her mouth and hushing her as she cried at the taste and swallows on instinct, holding her on his shoulder and kissing her head gently as he continued the story.

“The first chair was a biiiig chair! This was Daddy Bear’s chair. The next chair was a middle-sized chair. This was Mommy Bear’s chair. The last one was a liiitle itty bitty chair. That was Baby Bear’s chair!” He gasps “that was your chair! Did Goldie sit in baby’s chair?” He jokes with her and went out to the living room where another monitor sat and you could hear everything.

“Dada” she reached up at his face, her little voice raspy and horse. She coughed a bit, her little tongue sticking out and nose scrunching. He sat her up as she did, patting her back sweetly to help her get all the nasty sick to break up from her lungs.

“Dada is here, sweet girl, you want snuggles, mm? Little cub want some kisses?” He cooed and held her in a sitting position against his chest, laid back on him to where her breathing sounded much easier and comfortable. He stroked her little baby belly gently with his thumb, head fallen back on the back of the sofa.

You fell asleep to your little girls wheezy sick snores, being sure to wake up far before Carmy and had a nice warm bath with her with the ‘baby’s soothing vapor bath crystals’ Nat dropped off on her way to cover for him at the restaurant to clear her poor little sinuses.

Let’s just say daddy couldn’t look left or right for a few days with the way you found him trying to keep princess Bear upright and comfy in her sleep.

[st4rfckerz]

Heist | Dark!James Kelly x Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: dubcon (leaning more into noncon), unprotected sex, gunplay, degrading, choking, basically porn without a plot, dddne

summary: James couldn’t stay in the van, so he decides to enter the bank himself.

The minutes sitting in the humming van stretched into an agonizing eternity and James couldn't take the suspense any longer. He unclenched his fingers from the steering wheel and stepped out of the van. His heart hammered against his rib cage as he crossed the street, the sidewalk cold beneath his shoes. He approached the bank, the scent of adrenaline and metal heavy in the air. Without waiting for any kind of signal, James pushed open the bank's heavy door, his black-clad figure silhouetted against the bright interior.

The sound of shattering glass and panicked screams assaulted James’s ears as he entered the bank. He quickly scanned the area for any sign of his brother or the others, his cold eyes darting over the panic-stricken patrons. In the corner, he spotted you as you reached for the phone, your fingers poised to dial. He stalked towards you, his strong hands gripping your arm and throat forcefully, stopping you from making a call. He pushed you up against the wall, your back painfully aching as he held you in place, his body pressed against yours.

“Don’t do that,” he growled, his voice low and muffled from the snug mask covering his face. Your eyes widened in terror, tears welling in them as you struggled against him. He tightened his grip on your throat, his touch unyielding. “Stop.” he commanded, and shook your body roughly, his black-clad arm creating a stinging impact as your head collided with the hard wall. The impact sent shooting pain through your body, and you cried out loudly.

James’s steely eyes widened as the distant wail of sirens filled the air. Realizing the urgency of the situation, he yanked you toward the back of the bank, his strong hands steady as they dragged you into a small storage room. He slammed the door shut, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet space as if to mock the chaos unfolding outside.

He leaned against the door, his breathing heavy, as he tried to process the situation. It seemed their escape plan had been compromised. The sliver of hope that his brother, or the others might still be able to salvage something from the mess dwindled rapidly.

James, his nerves frayed and desperation mounting, stepped closer to your shivering body until he was nearly touching you. The tree tattoo on his arm seemed to pulse, as he bared his teeth in a sneer. “Stay quiet or I swear I’ll blow your brains out right here.” he growled, his voice cold and menacing. Overwhelmed by the situation, you couldn't help the gentle sniffling that escaped your lips. You tried your best to stifle your sobs, but the fear and adrenaline coursing through your veins made it nearly impossible. “Why are you still crying?” he demanded. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He roughly removes the black mask from his face, feeling as though it is strangling him completely.

James took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of control. “If you do as I say,” he said, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper, “I won't hurt you.” The desperation in his tone was palpable, a stark contrast to his usual cold demeanor. He needed your cooperation now more than ever, and he had no qualms about using his intimidating presence to coerce it.

Unmoved by his hollow promise, your eyes flashed with defiance. “Fuck you,” you spat out, the words like nails on a chalkboard. With a force that left you winded, he shoved you onto the cold, hard floor, and you landed in a crumpled heap.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m capable of, little girl.” he warned, his voice laced with menace as he climbed on top of you, pinning you to the ground. His tree tattoo loomed ominously over your skin. The weight of his body on yours was suffocating, both literally and figuratively, as the seconds ticked by with deafening silence. He needed you quiet, and he wouldn't hesitate to use whatever means necessary to get it.

“You get off to shit like this, don't you?” you taunted, trying to provoke him. Your voice shook slightly, but the defiance still lingered. The audacity of your words seemed to catch James off guard for a moment, his grip on your arm loosening just enough for you to catch a breath. James's face flushed with anger, his nostrils flaring. Hishand, encircling your throat, squeezed tight, silencing your words with brute force.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” he whispered menacingly, his hand a vice around your neck as he leaned in, his hot breath fanning your face. His gaze bore into yours, a molten pool of fury and uncertainty. A sudden, unexpected wave of arousal washed over you, your body betraying your fear and instincts. It was a shiver of lust in the face of danger, a twisted response you couldn't control. The unyielding grip around your throat, the weight of his body pinning you down, the power he wielded over you - it all combined to wreak havoc on your senses.

James slowly brought the cool metal of the gun down, grazing between your skirt and along your goosebump covered thighs. The gun continued its path, pressing firmly against your clothed cunt, the soft texture of your underwear the only thing separating you from the weapon. The sensation sends a jolt through you, a sharp gasp quickly escapes your lips. He watched you closely, his eyes hungry for any signs of pleasure, any shred of hope that he had you at his mercy.

“You like that, don’t you?” His tone was taunting and low. You release a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling unevenly. The line between fear and arousal had blurred, leaving you confused. Sensing the effect his actions had, James brought the gun slowly up your body, the cold metal sliding over your skin like a snake coiling around its prey. With a cruel smile, he guided the cold metal muzzle to your lips, pushing it between them until it rested against your tongue. James couldn't deny the arousal coursing through him as he watched your lips wrapped around the barrel of his gun. The power he held over you, the submission he forced, was intoxicating

“I don’t wanna hear a thing.” James demands coldly, his gaze holding you in a vice-like grip. Feeling overwhelmed by the situation, you could only manage a faint nod. Regardless of the unwelcome stirrings within you, the realization that your life was in his hands was too potent to ignore. James finally withdrew the gun from your mouth, the cold absence leaving your lips tingling. He then roughly pulled the bottom of your skirt upward and yanked off your panties with one swift motion. Your skirt was left intact, but the sudden, brutal exposure left you feeling raw and vulnerable.

James pulled down his own pants and underwear, stopping just below his balls, leaving himself partially exposed. He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on your exposed form. The intensity of the situation, combined with his arousal, drove him to take you right there in the small, cramped storage room. Without warning, he thrust into your cunt forcefully, bottoming out with a grunt.

The forceful entry was more than you expected, causing you to let out a yelp despite your best efforts to remain silent. Your body jerked with surprise, your nails digging into the cold floor as you tried to brace yourself. James’s grip on your waist tightened, pulling you closer with each thrust, his own arousal only escalating with your involuntary reaction.

As James continued his brutal assault, he noticed the increased evidence of your arousal, the slickness that coated him with each thrust. He smirked, his voice laced with contempt, “Just can't help yourself, can you?” The way your body responded against your will, and the yelp you let out, only served to fuel James's savagery. He saw it as a twisted victory, a mockery of your defiance earlier.

“Is this what you like? Is this really what gets you goin’?” Your face turned a deep shade of red, shame and humiliation washing over you. “Getting fucked on the ground like a dirty fuckin’ whore?”

“S-stop,” you pleaded through broken whimpers. James showed no sign of relenting. If anything, he increased his speed, his need for control driving him forward, even at the expense of your obvious humility. James's newfound frustration at your pleas found release in the form of a slap across your face that sent your head whipping to the side. He grabbed your cheeks harshly, forcing you to look at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to shut the fuck up?" he snarled. As James continued to ram into your aching cunt without mercy, he leaned back a little, one hand still gripping your hip for control. “Keep. Quiet.” With his free hand, he pointed his gun at your face, the cold steel a stark reminder of the precarious situation they were both in. The room was a cacophony of moans, grunts, and the wet sounds of their bodies working against each other.

“Can I please, I need-” you whined, reaching up to claw at his clothed thighs. You feel the cold tip of the gun barrel pressed against your forehead, your eyes shooting open in surprise.

“Go on ‘nd cum, I know you want to.” he sneers, cocking his head to the side cheekily. Your sudden orgasm crashed over your senses, your body convulsing as you came, the sensation both welcome and repulsive. As your sore body continued to quiver from your release, James followed close behind, his grip on your waist tightening as he groaned, spilling himself inside your leaking cunt.

The mingling of pain and euphoria left you gasping, your body trembling in the aftermath. He watched you with a predatory glint in his eyes, a twisted sense of satisfaction playing across his features as he pulled up his pants and buckled his belt. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked, his voice dripping with malice. James pulled up his pants and underwear, readying himself to leave the storage room. There was an air of finality to his movements, as if he were severing ties with the events that had unfolded.

Before James could fully exit the room, the sound of heavy banging on the door erupted. The police, having secured the rest of the bank, had finally found your hiding place. In a matter of moments, they broke down the door, their weapons drawn. You watched in dread as the officers flooded the room, their weapons drawn and focused on James, who stood frozen, unable to process the swift turn of events. The moment of his freedom had vanished, replaced by the unforgiving glare of the law. One of the officers grabbed him in a swift motion, slapping the cuffs on him. The other police officers secured the room, ensuring that any potential escape was impossible.

As James was being led away, his gaze met yours, and he offered you a wink followed by a coy smirk. The defiant expression on his face was the last thing you saw as he was taken out of the bank, his freedom and plan now nothing but ashes.

Now you were left alone in the room, the only witness to the perverted activities that unfolded, as the world outside began to piece together the aftermath of the heist and the brutal actions that took place in that small storage room. The police will soon question you, no doubt, seeking answers to the horrific events that had transpired.

The storied storage room would fade into the background, a mere footnote in the grand narrative of the botched robbery.

[kayentokk]

“You came?”

“You called.”

The dialing tone is almost mocking you as it rings. You’re a brave woman, and by no means do you let anyone walk over you, so why do you get the constant urge to tell him whenever you feel less?

Is it because you know he’ll reassure you? Help you get back up with the simplest, “it’ll be okay.” is that why? To be honest, you don’t know the true answer. You know that what other people say doesn’t define you, and you could care less. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though, and sometimes you just need someone. 

It doesn’t ring for long, maybe three times or five maximum, because he picks up. He always answers your calls and texts, it might take him a minute if he’s a work but he prioritizes you. That feels nice.Maybe that’s another reason why you call, because that’s the only constant thing left in your life at this point, him caring. Well, what you would define as caring anyway. 

He always waits for you to speak first if you call him, no matter how long it takes for you to get your thoughts together into a coherent sentence. He’ll wait. 

There’s silence for about a minute before you speak up.

“…sorry, I-I don’t really know-“ you pause and exhale mentally telling yourself to get your shit together. He senses your frustration through the phone. 

“Take your time,” he says lowly.

With one more breath you begin again tears filling your lash line, “I um..” your voice cracks and his heart is literally ripped from his chest. So you just say it all while trying to keep from absolutely sobbing over the phone. You tell him about how the gas station didn’t have your favorite drink, how your coworkers were complete assholes, the higher-ups who never deny the accusations, and he listens. Truly listens. It feels nice. 

In the middle of you going on another rant your doorbell rings. “Sorry, hold on one second,” you say into your phone.

You weren’t expecting a visitor, and you definitely didn’t feel like keeping company right now. It also didn’t help that your eyes were probably puffy along with your tear stained cheeks.

When you open the door though, all those thoughts go away. 

He’s here. 

Before you can even close the door and hang up the phone, you’re engulfed in a warm, tight embrace. You breathe in his scent that floods through you and puts you at ease as his stolid abdomen presses into your face. 

“You came,” you stated not even sure if he could understand you through the fabric of his sweater and your quiet voice.

He didn’t even get to respond before you let it all go. You wail, and sob, and cry your eyes out. All the while his hold on you never falters. Even though your tears and snot have soaked through to his stomach and he can feel it, even though he’s kind of hunched over in order to keep his arms around you due the the height difference, and even though he’s tired and has probably had a rough day too, none of that matters. 

Eventually your cries slow into soft sniffles and hiccups. He pulls you out of his chest, earning a groan from you, to tilt your face upwards where he can see. Your cheeks are all squished up covering some of your vision, and he delicately places a kiss on your forehead. 

“You called.”

[Nanami, Hinata, Bakugo, Rengoku, Kiba, Geto, Ushijima, Shinso, Tanjiro, Shikamaru, your fave]

@/fireflygraphics for the divider

[emmyrosee]

Hiii how are u todayyyy could I request y/n coming home finding osamu crying??… i dunno I just want to see y/n comfort him etc etc love ur writing btw byeee🫶🫶🫶

I changed this slightly mwah mwah 🫶🏻🫶🏻

-

“You know what I could go for right now?”

Osamu’s had a hard day. Between guests telling him off about food they didn’t enjoy and the line that had been wrapped around the building all day, it’s a miracle he’s even still awake and cognizant enough to talk to you. His anxiety has been building for the past four days in a catch up of bills, coupled with a fight with Atsumu over something small that’s now been blown up to where the blonde told him not to come to his wedding. An empty threat, maybe, but it doesn’t help the mountain of things against your man right now.

He’s having a hard time accepting Atsumu’s threat.

You’ve been an escape, yes. But this is far more than he’s ever been thrown in such a short amount of time.

You raise your head from his chest with a soft hum, “what, baby?”

He looks up at the ceiling with a small smile, “just some nice, hot fries from McDonalds and a coke. It just sounds so good right now.”

You smile and plant a kiss to his jawline, “after the week you’ve had, I’ll get you anything you want, Osamu.”

“Yeah?” He chuckles. “How ‘bout a kiss?”

“Well that’s a definite,” you snicker, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, your hand coming up to gently caress the sharpness of his jawline. He mewls happily, and you pull back with a playful bite of his lip. "I'll get you nuggets too if you do the dishes."

"I mean, how could I say no to that?"

You laugh some more before planting one more kiss to him and getting up and off the bed, tugging on a pair of sweats and hoodie to combat the chilled night sky. He follows you out of the room and settles at the sink, watching you fondly as you grab your keys and blow him a kiss.

“Drive safe,” he reminds you as you close the door.

You barely make it five feet to the car before you groan, forgetting to ask him if he wants sauce or anything else after his hard day.

You spin on your heel and make your way back inside, “stink, do you want sauce-“

There’s a sob that stops your question dead, and a pained pout crosses you. Osamu stands at the sink, hands gripping the edge so tight, his knuckles lighten from the force. One of his them comes up to cover his mouth and muffle himself as you come back in, his shoulders trembling as he desperately tries to pull himself together.

“What?”

You clear your throat, “do you want sauce, baby…? With your fries and nuggets?”

“B-barbecue,” he whimpers, hand immediately coming up to scrub his eyes. “Yeah. That’d be great.”

You let him have a moment of silence before stalking into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your head against his shoulder that shakes under you. "I know," you whisper, your thumb stroking his side lovingly. “I know, Osamu.”

"Why would he say that?" He sobs, shaking his head in his hands. "What did I even do?"

You don’t say anything, letting him cry it out and letting his shoulders heave and wail. You press a kiss to his bicep, squeezing him closer to you while he continues to cry in his hands, sniffling and trying desperately to catch his breath.

“I don’t deserve this,” he manages, fingers pressing into his eyes. His breathing starts to hyperventilate, and you pat his back softly.

"You need to focus on breathing, Osamu."

At your reminder, he sniffles and twists his body to wind himself around you, only for a particularly loud wail slips through his mouth, and his knees buckle under him. You guide him to sit on the floor and into your arms, which cradle his pounding skull. "I have to go to this wedding," he explains. "He's my brother, h-he's my best friend."

"I know, baby, I know..."

The dam breaks and out comes every worry and despair plaguing his mind, flowing in incoherent babbles and wheezy cries that stain your hoodie in hot tears. You screw your eyes shut to keep your own tears at bay as he fists the fabric of your pullover and squeezes you impossibly closer.

"I'm so tired," he chokes, his breath coming out short and forced.

"I know, Osamu,” you assure. “I wish I could take it away from you, I do…”

But you can’t. All you can do, all you can offer him, is all the love in your soul, all the patience and tenderness he deserves that the world hasn’t been giving him lately.

And in a few minutes, you’ll ask him if he’s still hungry, or if he wants to call Atsumu to figure this out. If he’ll want to close the restaurant tomorrow, or if he wants to just go back to bed and let the harmful thoughts be stilled.

But for now, you let him cry, wailing into your skin while he trembles in your grasp.

It’s the least you could do.

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚡

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: this one was quite hard to write because it took everything in me not to describe max getting murdered instead 🥲

✮ cw: crying, general sadness, verbal fights, slut shaming

✮ wc: 2.5k

jules feels like a zombie. 

for two days all she does is sleep and work. she barely eats, only showers once. she cries quite a bit though. it feels like everything sets her off…

every time she closes her eyes, jules remembers the way matty had looked at her before she ran away. she thinks of matty hitting max and matty cradling her face to make sure she's okay. she thinks of their last kiss and all the ones before. 

fuck. 

for two days she barely exists as a real person, barely checks her phone or answers to people’s texts and phone calls. she should have known better than to get herself tangled up in feelings again. she should have known better than to trust herself with ‘no strings attached’. because there are always strings. 

and now she can’t break them without hurting herself more. 

on the third day she wakes up to carly shaking her awake.  

it’s startling at first, she thinks someone’s broken into the flat. then she thinks it’s matty… ultimately when jules opens her eyes to carly’s concerned face, she can’t help the tears that gather in her eyes. 

“hi,” she whispers, swallowing through the lump in her throat. “sorry, did i forget we were going to do something?”

carly says nothing for a minute, just looks at her with scrutiny. 

“move over,” she motions for jules to shift, and jules obeys. 

carly gets in bed next to her, gets under the covers and pulls her into a hug. only then does she allow herself to cry again—big, loud sobs that send fat tears rolling down her cheeks. 

“i’ve made a mess,” she wails. “i’ve made a mess and i made him sad.”

“nico?” carly asks, “what—”

“no,” jules interrupts her. she’s done with this fake charade, she’s done lying to her friend and lying to herself. “not nico. there was never a nico.” she sniffles like a child, wiping her nose on the duvet. “i mean, yes there was but—”

“jules, you’re making no sense…” carly looks at her with a blank face. her lips are pursed into a thin line and her eyes are a little wary, but jules can see the concern written there plain as day. she doesn’t blame carly thought, she knows she’s talking like someone who’s gone mad. 

“it’s…matty,” she mumbles, “it’s always been matty.”

“adam’s matty?” carly’s eyebrows fly so high up in her hairline that jules almost giggles. more so when she registers what carly’s just said.

through tears she laughs. “adam’s matty. yes.” 

“what about him?”

“well…” she wrings her hands, suddenly nervous and scared that carly would be mad at her for lying this entire time. “it’s a bit of a long story.”

“let’s hear it then,” carly nods her head, and jules starts at the beginning.

“and this has been going on for…”

“more than a month, yeah…” she’s already in tears again, ashamed to look carly in the eyes and find contempt or judgement. 

“why didn’t you tell me?” carly mumbles. “why did you lie the whole time?”

“i—” jules chokes, crying more tears. “i was scared you’d think i was using him. i was scared you won’t like—”

“jules!” she interrupts, incredulous, “what am i, your mum?! none of my business who you fuck, i just… i wish you would have told me…”

“i know,” jules plays with a loose thread on the duvet. “i’m so sorry, i lied to you, i am.” 

she looks up, finally looking carly in the eyes. there’s a little bit of annoyance in her face, some anger too as is to be accepted. but more than that carly looks at her with concern. still, after jules is done confessing her lie, her friend looks at her with concern. 

under the duvet they’re sitting side by side, their arms touching. jules leans over and rests her head on carly’s lap like a child. a second passes, and then she feels fingers threading through her hair. 

“and now…”

“i want…” she looks down in shame, “…more.”

“and why is that a problem?”

because i don’t think he wants me? because i don’t know if it’s a good idea? because there’s a chance he might have feelings for someone else? because because because. 

she smiles at carly sadly. “it doesn’t matter. i think whatever we had is over now.”

“jules,” carly holds her face between her warm hands, making jules look at her. “i’ll say to you what i said to you ages ago, back when you first wanted go on casual dates. you don’t have to any of it if you don’t want to. but if you’re going to, i want you to be happy with it.” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “it looks like you’re not happy… ending it.”

and that really is the truth, isn’t it. she’d rather have some half-baked version of him than have none of him at all. but her heart is fragile. she can’t invest years in matty like she did in max. she can’t have that end the exact same way—in heartbreak and tears. 

“don’t assume what he wants,” carly nudges her gently. “ask him what he wants.”

“mmm,” jules wipes at her cheeks again. she’s sure her entire face is red now—red and splotchy. 

“now go on,” carly nudges her, “let’s go for a walk or something. i’ve got the whole day free and i’m bored!”

jules laughs. it’s a watery chuckle and more tears fall down her cheeks, but she feels better than she has in days. weeks, rather. she feels lighter and freer. 

“should we get ice cream?” she asks, and carly nods with all the enthusiasm in the world.

there’s another thing she has to do before she can fully bring herself to talk to matty. not that he has reached out to her… she supposes it’s fair this way. she’s the one who fucked up, she should be the one to apologise. 

and so a week and a half later she sets out. not to matty’s place, not just yet. she goes to the house she hasn’t seen in close to eight months. 

jules turns onto the familiar street and knocks on max’s door. 

it used to be her door once, she remembers. she wonders if the house still looks the same—if the sofa and the loveseat are where she left them. she wonders what’s replaced the trinkets on the shelves that she took with her. she wonders if the bedroom is as clean as she used to keep it and if the fridge is as organised. she wonders and wonders and realises… she does not care. 

jules no longer cares if the house inside looks like a mausoleum or if the bedroom looks like a garbage dump. 

she no longer cares if max lives comfortably or not. 

jules waits, ringing the doorbell again and shielding herself from the sun that’s high up in the sky. after ringing it for the third time, she hears footsteps—heavy dragging footsteps and then the door is yanked open. and just like that there’s max, hungover and looking like shit in last night’s clothes. 

he smells of stale alcohol and cheap weed. jules wonders how she ever loved this man, how she ever looked at him and found him attractive. 

“juliette…” he sounds surprised. she swallow the sour taste it creates in her mouth. it’s her name and yet when he says it, it sounds like the ugliest word in the world. 

“move,” she says, no willing to touch him to shove him aside. “i want to talk.”

max snorts and steps aside, motioning her in. 

jules takes in the house while he shuts the door behind her. there’s a thin layer of dust on the now empty shelves that look like they have not been used in quite some time. there are cobwebs in the corners of the ceiling and crumpled up empty beer cans by the sofa. 

the ashtray looks like it hasn’t been emptied in over a week. 

the house has certainly seen better days. 

“sit,” he motions towards the sofa. one look and jules wrinkles her nose in disgust—who knows what kind of things he gets up to here now that he’s single. 

“no, i don’t plan on staying long,” she declares, moving away to put a little more distance between them. no matter how far she moves though, she can still smell the stink coming from him. 

“right,” max smirks, “what you here for then? healy didn’t satisfy you last night, did he?”

jules closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. she’s not here to fight, she’s not here to fight, she’s not here to fight!

“max, i need you to stop.” 

“stop what?”

“i need you to stop sending flowers and coming back into my life. i need you to stop giving a shit about who i’m fucking, i need you to stop—”

“oh so you can be a whore and spread your legs to whoever you want and i can’t say shit about it?”

jules grinds down her molars, bristling at the interruption. this is fucking impossible, he is fucking impossible. 

“max, listen to me,” jules begins, her voice steady despite the anger bubbling up inside her. “i didn’t come here to argue. i came here to make things clear.”

max scoffs, leaning against the wall with a dismissive glare. “so we’re setting boundaries now are we? so you can run around town fucking that boy and ruin my reput—”

“max!” jules raises her voice, trying not to go slap him in his own home. “i’m not interested in discussing my sex life with you. i want you to understand that whatever i do, whoever i do it with is none of your fucking business.”

he snorts again, shaking his head. “and you think it’s okay for your boy toy to hit me like that? he’s fucking lucky you were there.” 

“lucky?” jules scoffs, incredulous. “max, you were out of line, and you know it. you can’t just show up and act like you still have some kind of claim over me. matty stood up for me because you were being a complete jerk.”

max’s smirk falters for a second, but he quickly recovers, crossing his arms over his chest. “you think he’s some kind of hero? he’s just using you, juliette. just like—”

“just like you did?” she interrupts, her voice sharp and cold. “don’t project your failures onto him. matty’s nothing like you, max. he will never be like you. ever.”

max opens his mouth to say something but she’s not done talking just yet. she’s not done talking and she’s not going to leave here until he promises never to bother her again. 

“i’m being so fucking serious right now,” her voice sounds firm and jules wonders if matty would be proud of her if he were here. she’s certainly proud of herself. “i need you to stay the fuck away from me. no more flowers, no more messages, no more trying to intervene in my life. i do not care what your little cronies think of your reputation anymore.”

max whistles low, looking her up and down. “you’ve grown a backbone.”

“yeah,” she shrugs, smirking at him, “i’ve also learned what it’s like to fuck a real man.”

max’s face flushes with anger, but jules just looks at him with pity. she’s done letting him make her feel small, done letting him control the narrative of her life. she’s just… done.

“don’t ever come near me or mine again.” she warns him one last time. 

max sneers, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—defeat, maybe, or regret. jules doesn’t care to figure it out. she’s said what she needed to say.

turning on her heel, she heads for the door, not giving max a chance to respond. she’s done with his toxicity, done with being the good little girlfriend who gives away all of herself and forgets to be a person of her own. 

jules steps outside, the sunlight warm on her face, and takes a deep breath, feeling lighter than she has in months.

back at her flat, jules takes a long, hot shower, scrubbing away the remnants of whatever might have clung to her in that house. it feels like there’s a disgusting oily sheen to her skin, like max and his gaze still linger, making her feel small all over again. 

she wraps herself in a towel and sits on the edge of her bed, her phone in hand. her heart pounds as she scrolls through her contacts and finds matty’s number. she’s scared, but carly’s words echo in her mind.

ask him what he wants.

with trembling fingers, she types out a message:

jules: hi, can we talk?

she stares at the screen, her thumb hovering over the send button, but jules doesn’t send it. instead she repeatedly presses backspace. 

she remembers carly’s words, but she also remembers her own. 

matty’s nothing like you, max. he will never be like you. ever.

and she was right then, wasn’t she? she thinks back to all the time she’s spent with matty. matty, who’s put her first every single time and been a friend to her even when he didn’t have to. she remembers matty cradling her face and asking her if she was okay. she remembers making him sad. 

she’d made him sad. 

jules feels a fist squeeze around her heart. if she’s going to make it right, she’s going to make it right in person. and she’s going to do it right now. 

she dresses as quickly as she can, reciting her speech in her head and trying to calm her nerves. she’s going to go and wear her heart of her sleeve, she can’t let a panic attack get in the middle of that. 

his house is only a short bus ride away but her heart is in her throat the entire time. jules doesn’t know what she will say to him once she actually sees him. she doesn’t know if he’d be willing to hear her out or if he’d just turn her away. 

what if he just wants a clean end to… them?

turning onto matty’s street is so much more nerve wracking than max’s. for one, it takes her an eternity to ring the bell. 

maybe she should just run away again and come back some other day. maybe she should have stuck to her original plan of messaging him first. 

still, jules knows this is the right thing to do. matty deserves a real apology, and she’s not going to deprive him of one. 

jules stands outside matty's house, her heart pounding as she rehearses her speech one last time in her head. she takes a deep breath and knocks on the door, hoping he will answer.

to her surprise, it’s cleo who opens the door.

“jules?” she sounds surprised. “hi! come in, what’s up?”

jules nods at cleo. “i’m here for matty,” she tries to keep her voice even. “i need to talk to him.”

[adorehyyuka]

bratty!Tae <3

smut mdni

warnings: sub! taehyun . . .duh, he's tied up, sex toys, degradation, face slapping, hair pulling, derogatory names, slight dacryphilia,mean reader, overstimulation, edging, spanking ?? implied cheating (he was out smooching other men 😞) , mentions of pillow humping, he's a good boy guys :( [lies] idk I feel weird about this one, don't really like it (cries) lmk if I missed anything!

"you still wanna fuck around and be a brat now ? hm ? answer me or that's one more time I'll edge you before you're allowed to come." you spoke with a rough tone, upping the pace of taehyun's fleshlight that you were currently pumping up and down his red cock.

"no, 'm not a brat ! I'm a good boy, I'm your good boy—fuck !" the surprisingly pleasurable new pace of your hand had him digging his feet into the mattress to try and get more of it, blabbing the words he thought you wanted to hear so you'd let up your torture. you scoffed.

"oh, you are definitely not a good boy."

taehyun had been acting like a brat all day, rubbing up against you whenever you were trying to get important things done. toying with you whenever he was around other people, flirting with them and not paying any mind to you or your clenched jaw. he constantly teased you in public by grabbing your waist, your chest, your ass and by pressing open mouthed kisses against your neck.

so no, you did not think he had been a good boy and therefore the reason why he was now tied to the headboard with drool and tears everywhere. at first you thought it might be a bit much, but then you noticed how his eyes sparkled when you pulled out a vibrating butt plug and just knew you had to take it up a notch.

he sniffled and pulled at his wrist restraints. "no ! I have been a good boy, I'm not a brat !" lies, he knew they were.

"yeah ? you think you deserve to come ?"

"yes ! yes, I deserve to come, I've been so fucking good !"

you pouted mockingly, mimicking his whines and sobs.

"I don't know, baby . . . do you think feeling beomgyu up was being good ? you were all over him not even an hour ago, practically jerking him off that's how close your hand was." at the mention of his best friend he began to wail, his head shaking in denial to your statement although he knew what you were saying was true. he only did it to rile you up though !

"t-that was an accident ! didn't mean to. . . 'm so fucking close please !" you laughed and pressed the button to up the vibrations while squeezing your hand around his dick. taehyun squealed, twisting his body to try and escape the overwhelming feeling but also yearning for more.

"you didn't mean to ? saw you giving him a hickey, Tae. was that an accident too? your mouth just happened to fall there ?"

"mhm ! was an accident I swear !" he could have sworn he was getting through to you with his pathetic lies, not really realising how stupid they sounded when he was so close to his eagerly awaited orgasm. but then he heard you chuckle lowly, and then he felt all the stimulation stop.

"you're full of shit, sweetheart." you ignored his mewls and cries of protest, instead groping his ass which was covered in red handprints you'd inflicted upon him earlier. "you were gonna come weren't you ? without telling me, hmm. such a spoiled brat"

"no ! wasn't gonna come !"

"don't lie to me, whore." you landed a slap to his face, grinning as you saw his eyes welling up and his body shiver in delight.

" 'm not a fucking whore . . ." taehyun growled, the tone in which you spoke had him clenching his thighs together in an attempt to get some friction. but when he realised he wasn't feeling anything apart from the sting of his face and the throb of his angry cock he began to mewl out once more.

"didn't I tell you not to lie ?," shit you were pissed, taehyun knew he was absolutely fucked.

"lay down and don't fucking move, if you want to come so badly I'll let you. you're gonna tell me how many times you've kissed Beomgyu, that's how many times you'll come." you spoke through gritted teeth, grabbing your boyfriend's black locks with force and tugging.

the motion had him moaning out. sucking in choked breaths through his teeth. he had to think for a moment, as embarrassing as it was to admit your harsh words and actions had left him a little dumbed down. "five!"

"ah, that's an odd number. why don't we round up to six ?"

taehyun gasped at your words, scrambling to argue, to protest, anything that might save his poor dick from falling off once you were finished with him.

"c-can't do that !"

"awe boohoo, little slut. you'll do it either way. c'mon, start humping your pillow like the pathetic bitch you are."

series mlist

© hyyukas

tag list is open ! @cinnikoi @zzstar @mini-mews

[dreaming-of-lu]

...Buckle your seatbelts and ready yourself.

There were questions.

Silent ones that were never voiced out loud. Quiet whispers amongst themselves as they wondered about the newest addition to the group. If one offered to ask, they were quickly shot down by the eldest before shooing them all off to leave the new member alone. They were nothing like them; they knew how to wield a sword, but they're not a Link like them. They bore no triforce, no heroic spirit that they all shared, and the same name was not theirs.

They looked tired, thrown out of the loop, emotionally and mentally. Their eyes never looked into either the eldest or the youngest eyes, almost as if they were afraid of something. Afraid of...them. They clung tightly to a long red scarf as if they were hoping it would ground them, but the group was no fools to the cries, whimpers, and sobs that escaped the member's lips, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. The silent wails were made into the scarf, riddled with tears, snot, and drool. Their face contorted in anguish pain, white-knuckling the red fabric, even biting it as they tried to conceal the sounds.

The muffled cries of their name made their heart clench as they all lay awake, the harsh wails willing tears into their own eyes, now knowing the newest member had lost someone. 

‘They've lost their own Link,’ Legend silently wept at the thought, knowing how deep the pain is of losing someone you love deeply, and that they’re gone in a blink of an eye.

'How long has it been since they last saw him?' Time wondered quietly.

'Please,' Warriors sniffles, 'please don't tell me they saw him dead.'

'I'm so sorry,' Sky covered his mouth to hide the sobs.

Their fists pound the earth underneath them, slumping on their side then curling into a ball.

“Please,” they keen, voice cracking, “please let this be a nightmare. Link, come back, I can’t do this without you.”

Empty.

Empty without the love of another. Weak without him. They felt soulless.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

If you're still doing 1k prompts.

Maybe one after Izzys death. After Stede takes him back to the captains quarters Ed breaks down again, and tells Stede the crew probably wishes it was him instead of Izzy. Then after an exhausted Ed falls asleep in his arms Stede reluctantly leaves him and goes to talk to the crew, who decide to do something special for Ed to show him that Izzy was right that Ed's their family and they love him.

Thanks so much for this prompt! Heartbreaking stuff.

(Always feel free to send me prompts for 1k word fics!)

--

“There we are, sweet man, you’re doing great.”

Ed just rested his head on Stede’s shoulder, letting Stede hold him up as he gently peeled off the blood-stained uniform shirt. He’d stopped crying, for now, and that was a win.

Ed was shaking, still, teary-eyed, and Stede had just a moment of doubt. Ed was probably really happy to be stuck getting comfort from the guy whose plan was the reason everything went south -

Stede cut himself off. It wasn’t like it was his fault Izzy sucked shit at checking hostages for weapons, now, was it?

That thought was probably not one Ed would find funny at the moment. Regardless, Stede knew his Ed, and he knew what he could do for him, and his world narrowed to the things he could do to help his boyfriend feel better. 

He helped Ed get clean with a washcloth, wiping dried blood from his hands, and got him changed into a soft nightgown, telling him how well he was doing all the while. Ed mostly just sniffled, but he squeezed Stede’s fingers, leaned over so Stede could kiss his cheek. Stede spritzed Ed’s hair with the bottle of freshwater they kept in the bathroom and brushed it through with some coconut oil - Ed hated what the salty sea air could do to his hair, and helping him take care of it was a way Stede could keep him comfortable and make sure he felt loved.

Ed mumbled something as Stede held him on the bed, using a damp cloth to clean his hands better, scrubbing the dried blood out from under his fingernails. His face was tucked pretty tight into Stede’s chest, so Stede hadn’t been able to make it out.

“What’s that, love?” He kissed Ed’s forehead, encouraging him to stop hiding his face.

Ed looked up, his eyes teary again, and his lip wobbled. “D’you think they wish it was me instead?”

Stede frowned. “What -”

“The crew.” Ed’s lip trembled a bit harder, and he pursed his lips to try and keep it under control. “They - they liked him more than me, they hate me -”

“Ed, honey, no -”

“They wish it was me instead, Stede, I know they do,” Ed said, his voice breaking off into a sob, and Stede barely had time to blink before Ed was wrapping his arms around his chest and holding him close as he wailed.

It was the helplessness Stede hated the most, he thought, to be holding Ed and trying desperately to comfort him, and not being able to calm him. Every time he tried to reassure him that the crew did love him, Ed only cried harder, shaking his head, his breath hitching with broken sobs.

All Stede could do, really, was hold Ed close and rock him gently in his arms as he cried himself to sleep, too exhausted and raw to talk.

This would not do.

Slowly, being careful not to wake him, Stede gently moved Ed onto the bed, getting him tucked up under the covers. He kissed Ed’s tear-streaked cheek, his heart warming at the way Ed’s expression relaxed slightly, before heading back up on deck.

Fang found him as he was tossing the bloodied English uniform off the ship. He didn’t think Ed would ever want to look at it again.

“Hey,” Fang said softly. “How is he?”

“Not great, to tell you the truth.” Stede sighed  down at the ripple as the uniform sank. “I was actually thinking that it might be nice to have a bit of crew appreciation for him, he’s had a very rough go of it lately, and he says he’s worried that some people might be mad it was Izzy instead of him -”

Fang barely had time to gasp before Frenchie’s head popped around the corner.

“I hear that right?” Frenchie gasped. “Eddie’s worried we’re mad he didn’t die? Oh, no way, that’s not on.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Stede began, and he was left to just follow along as Fang and Frenchie streaked off.

In the end, Stede barely needed to contribute anything. The crew came up with it all themselves.

When Ed woke up the next morning, after a cuddle and promises that Stede wasn’t mad, not at all, about all the crying, they came out of the cabin to find cake for breakfast.

“Aww, fuck yeah,” Ed said, giving the crew a weak smile as Jim handed him his slice. “I love orange cake, Roach, really. You always get the texture just immaculate.”

That was just Ed, Stede thought with a smile. Even when he was having such a hard time, he was doing his absolute best to find an enthusiastic compliment.

“We made you somethin’,” Jim said very loudly, prompting Frenchie to groan at how they ruined the surprise, man, where’s your sense of theatrics.

The card made Ed cry again, but in a very good way.

The crew had debated for a while on what it should say, but Stede thought the simple we’re glad you’re alive! got the job done just fine.

Most of the crew had instructed Lucius to draw them around the smiling Ed at the center of the picture doing something Ed taught them, or that they did together. Roach bringing some adventurous new recipe for Ed to taste-test, Jim tying a cool rigging knot, Pete doing a backflip (Stede found that one a bit far-fetched)...

“Thank you guys,” Ed said, wiping his eyes, clutching the card to his chest. “I, uh… it means a lot.”

“Sappy bastard.” Archie affectionately whacked Ed’s shoulder. “We love you, too. Dickhead.”

Stede didn’t think that either he or Ed had ever thought they’d be part of a community where they were really, truly loved, where you could count on everyone to support each other, let alone expected they’d help foster that community. Now, getting to watch Ed receive that love, to feel safe to accept it - 

It was the best gift he thought he’d ever received.

[danikamariewrites]

hello! I absolutely love your writing so I thought I'll drop a request of my own. What if Azriel's mate, the reader is going through a depressive episode and needs Azriel to help her through it, but Az has a super important mission that he HAS to go on?

Hopefully with a fluffy happy ending though 🥺

Please Don’t Go

Azriel x reader

A/n: thank you anon! Fluffy ending for sure on this one

Warnings: mental health struggles, depression, anxiety, fluffy ending I swear

You cling to Azriel as he tries to pick up his over night bag. He rubbed your back as you cried into his chest begging him not to go. An awful depressive episode hit you this week. You thought you’d have Azriel with you the whole time but something came up and Rhys was now sending him to the Winter Court.

As he made to let go you gripped him tighter begging harder. “Azriel please, please I need you with me.” Azriel took in a shaky breath, swallowing back his own tears. “Y/n I need you to look at me, baby.” You shake your head against him.

Azriel drops his head on top of yours. “Baby I have to go. But I’m going to try and be as quick as I can ok. Just one night? Can you do that for me?”

You step back from him, wiping your eyes. Cupping your cheek he asks, “Do you want to stay at the House with Nesta?” You nod. If you can’t be with Az Nesta is always good company. Not many see it, but she cares about the people close to her.

Azriel shoulders his bag then scoops you up in his arms to fly you to the house. Landing on the balcony you see Nesta waiting for you. Azriel sets you down and she opens her arms to you. You run and cling to Nesta now that she’s your person.

Nesta hugs you tight, looking to Azriel, “She’ll be ok here.” He nods, a shadow leaving him to sink to the floor next to you. To stay with you, protect you. Azriel kisses the back of your head whispering, “I’ll be back. Hold on y/n, I know you can.”

Then he was off. You broke down in Nesta’s arms. She took you to Azriel’s room, tucking you under the covers that still smell like Azriel. “Do you want to eat something?” “Yeah,” you sniffle out. You hear Nesta ask the house for soup and water.

Truthfully, you hadn’t been listening since Azriel said goodbye. You always get anxious when he went away. It didn’t matter that he was a seasoned warrior and spy, you always worried for his safety. Worried that he wouldn’t come back.

The day passed quickly turning into night and Azriel still was t back. An hour ago Nesta left to ask Rhys for an update on Azriel’s arrival. As tears stream down your face you stare out the glass balcony doors up at the sky. The moon bright but not quite full yet, the star’s twinkling as bright as ever. The night sky is the greatest gift in this court. It’s beauty distracting you from your current thoughts.

The door opens and shuts and Nesta strides over to the bed. She sits by your legs, laying a gentle hand on your calf. You look at her with hope in your eyes. Nesta shook her head, “He’s not coming back tonight. I’m so sorry honey.”

You drop your head letting out a wail. You hug his pillow to your body continuing to sob. Nesta held you as you started hyperventilating. “I can’t do this anymore Nesta.” She shushes you rubbing your back. “Yes you can, y/n. You’re one of the strongest Valkyries I’ve trained.”

You continue to breathe sporadically until Nesta pulled you to her chest. “Y/n you’re scaring me. You need to breathe.” She brings your hand to her chest to feel her calm heartbeat. Nesta smoothes out your hair and you feel yourself calm down a little. After what feels like hours you start to calm down.

Your eyes start to get heavy with sleep. You relax against Nesta and let your eyes close, hoping Azriel will be with you in the morning.

Through your morning grogginess you heard Azriel’s sweet voice, felt his hand rub your back in calming circles. “Morning baby. I’m so sorry I’m late, can you forgive me.” With all your remaining strength you launch yourself at Azriel, wrapping your arms around him. “Thank the Mother! I was so worried about you.”

Azriel hugged you back squeezing you to his chest and kissing the side of your head. “I’m here baby. I’m going to take care of you, I promise. I’m not leaving again for a long time.” You breathe out a deep sigh of relief. “Thank you Az.”

tags: @rigelus @nyotamalfoy @auggiesolovey @bubybubsters @baybay123455 @msiecrane @aroseinvelaris @twsssmlmaa

[frenchfrywrites]

Kinktober Day 9: Mommy kink + cum eating

MINORS DNI

Dom GN reader (reader is mentioned as having a cock, but that could be a strap if you’d like), sub bottom Levi, overstimulation, cum eating, mommy kink, dacryphilia, 

“Oh there we go,” you coo, working Levi through his fourth climax. 

His cum dirties his abdomen as it has with each previous orgasm, and like each time beforehand, you release one of his twitching and softening cocks from your hold. You then collect his cum on your fingers and press them to his lips. 

Like the good boy he is, Levi opens his mouth, allowing you to feed him his cum. This time he gurgles and chokes a bit as your cum covered fingers press against his soft forked tongue. Nevertheless he cleans your fingers, sucking and licking at your fingers like they’re your cock.

“Mama,” he gasps as you slowly pull your fingers from his mouth. “I can’t,” he chokes out a sob as you wrap your hand around one of his limp dicks, starting the process again. “Mommy I can’t cum anymore,” he wails, tears flowing heavily from his amber eyes. You tut,

“I think you can baby,” you give him the time to safeword out, but he just sniffles and chokes out another sob, “you wanted to show me how good you could be, right?” he nods ecstatically, whining when you switch from one of his dicks to the other, giving that one equal attention. 

“Just give me one more sweetheart, you can cum one more time can’t you?” he nods, again. “Tell me you can do one more,” his dicks finally become erect once again, so you pick up your speed. 

“I can-” he sobs, clinging to you and bringing you closer as he cries from the overstimulation. To give him a small break you trail your fingers down to his vent, keeping him stimulated while not overwhelming him as much. “I can cum again,” he finally tells you. You coo and kiss his sweaty forehead, going back to playing with his cocks.

“That’s my good boy,” you tell him, playing with the tip of his top cock. Levi whimpers and sobs, but eventually starts humping his hips into your hand. It goes like this for a bit, until pre starts bubbling up at the tips of his dicks. His orgasms are coming closer and closer together as you continue. You figure Levi won’t last much longer before he cums for the fifth time tonight. 

“Mommy,” Levi whines, strengthening his hold on you, “I- ah- feel like I’m gonna cu-ungh-cum,” you kiss him sweetly,

“Good boy, I knew you could do it, cum for me again baby, cum-” your praise is cut off by his high pitched, choked squeal as he cums. You stroke him through it, murmuring praise as he twitches and squirms under you. 

He’s panting by the time he’s done, his eyes fluttering shut with exhaustion. You scoop up his cum with your fingers, as per your ritual, and nudge his lips with them. Levi’s eyes open slowly, and his mouth drops open as he watches you through watery, lidded eyes.

This time he hardly sucks or licks at all, just lies there pliantly as you clean off your fingers in his mouth. 

“Hey Levi,” he makes a soft noise as your fingers leave his mouth again, “think you can do one more for me?” 

He whines but that’s not a no, and it’s not a safeword. You circle your hand around one of his limp dicks again.

[jedipoodoo]

love you to the moon and to saturn

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

part three: all you had to do was stay

Notes/Warnings: General angst, recovery from torture, etc. Omega has MASSIVE survivor's guilt.

Omega screamed. Emerie and the TKs took a step back, reeling at the cry of pain from such a small girl.

Hemlock sighed, and pushed Omega away, towards Emerie. Hemlock listed off instructions as if nothing had happened, but Omega couldn't hear them. Her heart was breathing fast, too fast, like Hunter's had. She couldn't hear anything, but as Emerie tugged on her arm, Omega realized that they were trying to take her away.

"Let go of me!”

"We're taking you back to your cell-" Emerie tried to say, as if that was supposed to make Omega more cooperative.

Omega screamed again, like a toddler throwing a tantrum. She pulled her arm from Emerie's grasp and tried to make a break for Hunter, but Emerie looped her arms around Omega's waist, dragging her towards the door.

“I thought you were my friend!” Omega cried, beating her fists against Emerie's ribs.

"I am!" she hissed, and the woman who was supposed to be Omega's sister ripped her away from Hunter's side, "If you and your friends simply did as the Doctor asked, you wouldn't be in this mess!"

"I don't want to do as he says!" Omega screamed. She kicked Emerie's shin, and stomped her foot, digging her foot into Emerie's insole. Emerie gasped at the pain and Omega slipped from her grasp, running back to Hunter.

"Hunter! Hunter wake up!" she screamed. She shook him once, twice, and tugged at his restraints. She managed to undo the buckle around his wrist, before two troopers took over for Emerie. They yanked her away from her brother without ceremony, tossing her over their shoulder as they carried her from the room, so that her last view of Hunter would be him laid before Hemlock on a medical table.

Omega was flung into her cell as limp and as heavy as a whaladon out of water. Crosshair hissed between his teeth, but he didn’t say anything until long after the guards were gone.

"Psst, Kid, you okay?"

It must have been the fact that she wasn't moving that struck fear in his tone. Crosshair wasn't usually concerned with her.

Omega didn't care. How was she supposed to have the energy to care when Hunter was dead?

She whimpered, and a few sobs came out, but that was it. She heard Crosshair shuffling around in his cell a few moments later when she didn't answer.

What would she even say to him anyway? "Hunter came to rescue you after all this time but I got him killed! Sorry Cross!" Omega sobbed again.

It was her fault. All her fault.

Out of nowhere, alarms began to wail, echoing through the Mountain. Omega flinched, curling in on herself. She didn’t care anymore. How could she? What else mattered in life if her brothers were dead?

She could see the glee in Hemlock’s eyes as she tried to keep her own squeezed shut. It was her fault they kept dying. Tech died because she wanted to save Crosshair so badly, and now Hunter was dead because he’d tried to save her. How many more of her brothers would have to die because of her?

“Omega?”

Her ears were playing tricks on her. She’d inhaled too many of the fumes from the Bavo-six. The voice sounded just like Hunter’s, but not like him at the same time. It was too gruff, too stern.

“Omega! Crosshair!” More voices, getting closer, but Omega refused to look up. They blended together in a crescendo right outside her cell, and Omega pulled her knees closer, trying not to let them hear her sniffle.

“Cross! You're here! "

"Is she-”

“No, she’s alive.”

“They dropped her in there a while ago. She hasn’t said anything.”

“Omega! It’s us! We’re breakin’ ya out!”

There was the tiny twitch in the air and the red light vanished from the edge of her vision that meant the shield door was down. A large hand covered her shoulder and gave her a meaningful nudge.

“Omega?” Wrecker sounded so scared, so worried, she had to look up at him.

There he stood, crouched over her with his skull-faced bucket balanced on top of his head just so. As she blinked up at him, a smile grew across his face, and his eyes crinkled in delight.

“Heya kid, it’s time to go.”

“Wrecker,” She gasped, and threw her arms around him. He had never felt so real, from the chuckle in his throat and the scar pressed against her cheek and the faint scent of Mantell Mix on his breath. Wrecker swept her up into his arms and carried her out of the cell into the hall, where Echo placed a hand on her knee, reassuring her that he was close. Other voices, the steady thrum of brothers talking in hushed, nervous voices echoed beneath the blaring of alarms. Safety’s clicked, and blaster packs were clipped into place as weapons were handed out by Echo and Rex’s clone unit. They were the only ones wearing armor, a mix of dull white and the bright paints that signified freedom and safety.

“Heya kid!” Gregor popped out of nowhere, grinning at Omega with a wave like nothing was wrong. Omega waved at him before she could even think about it, still wrapped up in Wrecker’s secure hold. She couldn’t help the way her legs wrapped as far around his waist as they could go, just for the extra security.

“You haven’t met Wolffe, haveya?” the yellow paint on Gregor’s armor was a bright contrast to the gray animalistic prints on the new clone he was introducing.

“Commander of the Wolfpack! Fiercest men in the Grand Army of the Republic!”

Wolfe shrugged off Gregor’s arms, “Formerly.” He reminded Gregor with a bitter tone.

The proportions of Gregor’s shoulderpads looked a little goofy, but they also reminded Omega of Hunter’s shoulderpads. Wrecker always liked to joke that he was trying to make up for his lack of height.

Omega hid her face in Wrecker’s shoulder as the tears began to sting.

“Where are the other cells?” Echo asked.

“The floor above us and the floor below are the only two that are still occupied,” Crosshair said grimly, “Everyone else is gone.”

The hum of voices took a sharp dip, like everyone was waiting for orders.

“Wolffe, Gregor, take the lower floor. We’ll take the next one,” Echo drew his blaster as Omega gave an embarrassingly loud sniff.

“Omega, are you okay?” Echo asked.

"Huh-Hunter," Omega sobbed, her nails grating at the plastoid of Wrecker's armor. She couldn't help but think about how much the noise always annoyed Hunter.

"It's okay, ad'ika," Wrecker gently patted her back, "You're safe now."

Omega shook her head vigorously. "Hunter's dead."

“Oh,” Echo said softly. He walked around to Wrecker’s shoulder so that he could look at Omega, slipping his helmet under his arm.

“Omega, Hunter’s not dead.”

“Yes he is!” Omega screamed, “He came and he tried to save us but we got caught and Hemlock tortured him and he died! And I couldn’t even do anything about it!”

The silence in the wake of Omega’s explanation was suffocating. She was pretty sure that it was only Wrecker, Crosshair, and Echo left with her as the rest of the clones tried to finish their mission.

“Omega, you have to trust me,” Echo said, though his voice was uncertain, “This is all part of the plan. We stole a v-wing, so when Hunter landed in the hangar, it planted a bug that took down Tantiss’ security. So while Hemlock was interrogating Hunter, he was distracted from the rest of us coming out of hyperspace so we could mount the real rescue.”

Omega had a very childish glob of snot leaking out of her nose, and she tried to wipe it away with her shirt sleeve, “But…but Hemlock killed him. I saw…I saw his heartbeat flatline.”

“Now that there’s a neat little trick!” Wrecker bounced her in his arms to help her sit up, “We got the idea from Wolffe. See, he managed to convince his CO he was dead by taking this pill from Felucia that slows down your heartbeat, and that’s how he escaped the Empire!”

Omega blinked through her thick tears. “...what?”

“Hunter’s gonna be alright,” Echo said, “He’ll meet us at the Marauder once all our brothers are free.”

Omega’s chest untwisted a little.

It was going to be okay.

Hunter's head pounded.

But he was alive, and that was all that mattered.

He was still strapped to the examination table. It smelled of sweat, blood, and tears from a thousand brothers, and Hunter felt sick. He wanted to be sick, but he couldn't let himself go just yet.

Omega, he had to find Omega. She was never going to forgive him for dying on her, and he had to make it up to her as quickly as possible.

Hunter opened his eyes to look around. There appeared to be no one else in the vicinity, but Hemlock stood in front of several data screens with his comms, yelling about the clones. Hunter could see streams of identical men on the screens before Hemlock, jumping the TKs and stealing their blasters, destroying precious machinery and making their way to the hangar bay, where dozens of V-Wing fighters were all on fire.

One of his hands was unrestrained, so carefully, Hunter reached up and released the belt on his forehead, his other wrist, and his ankles. His comm, knife, and blasters were just within arms reach, on the table scattered with a hundred operation tools. He gave himself a quick once-over, and was relieved to find that it appeared Hemlock hadn't used any of the ominous tools on him.

His comm silently flashed with the number four, the signal from Echo and Rex that Hunter was clear to proceed with the fourth phase of their plan.

Hemlock paced, yelling into his comm. He didn't notice Hunter as he sat up and reached for his blaster.

"You wanna know where my brothers are, you bastard?"

Hemlock froze, his head whipped around to spot Hunter with his blaster aimed at him.

"They're about to rain hell all over your precious secret lab."

Hunter fired his blaster, but the effects from the shock therapy still had him in a stranglehold. Hemlock dodged easily and sprinted for the door.

"Get the girl!" he barked at his men. The door shut behind him, and Hunter staggered to his feet.

The girl. His girl. They could only mean Omega. Snatching up his knife, Hunter lunged for the door with a snarl, using his vibroblade to carve the security mechanism from the wall.

The doors opened, deactivated, and a single TK stared at him, stunned. Hunter blaster him without a second thought.

They were going after Omega, and he wouldn't let that go unpunished any longer.

Taglist (comment/dm to be added): @chopper-base @giganonyx

[alyswritings]

Hi love could I request a rudy pankow x daughter reader where she is very upset because they can't find her stuffed bunny Rudy is trying to find it everywhere in the house maybe she left it at one the cast house or on set thank you

"Daddy!" Y/N races out of her room, sobbing.

"What's wrong, baby?" Rudy frowns, picking her up when she gets close enough.

"I can't find Floppy." Y/N hiccups.

"What do you mean?" Rudy asks.

"Floppy's missing." She sobs, hugging her dad, her face buried in the crook of his neck.

"Okay, okay, hey, it's all right, sweet girl." Rudy comforts, rubbing her back. "I'm sure he's around here somewhere. Just gotta find him."

"What if he's gone forever?" Y/N wails.

"He's not. He's not." Rudy comforts. "I'll find him. I promise. Here, why don't you watch some cartoons while I find him, okay?"

"Otay." She sniffles.

Rudy settles her onto the couch, covering her up with a blanket to get her comfortable. He puts her favorite show on before starting to search around.

"He's not here?" Y/N pouts when Rudy starts to leave.

"He's not in the living room. Don't worry, baby girl, I still got more rooms to search. I'll find him." Rudy assures, kissing her on the head.

Rudy is searching in his room last, still having no luck on finding the bunny.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." He whispers to himself as he finishes searching. "Damn it." He hisses, running a hand through his hair. He retreats to the living room, preparing to break the news to his four year old.

"Floppy?" She asks when she sees him walk in.

"I'm sorry, baby." Rudy frowns, crouching in front of the couch. "I'm sure you just left him at somebody's house and we'll get him back. I'll ask them tomorrow at work."

"I want Floppy now!" She cries, starting to cry again.

"We'll get him back. I promise." Rudy says. "C'mere." He picks her up, tightly holding her to comfort her.

- - -

The next day Rudy gets to set with a very sleep deprived Y/N. She was barely able to sleep without Floppy, too heartbroken about not having him.

"Hey." Madelyn walks up.

"Hey." Rudy nods.

"She okay?" Madelyn nods to the girl who looks exhausted.

"Oh, yeah. She, uh, lost her favorite stuffed animal -- that bunny rabbit." Rudy says.

"Oh, well, you're just in luck. Because it appears that somebody left something at my place yesterday." Madelyn says, reaching into her purse and pulling out the stuffed animal that Rudy had spent hours looking for.

"Holy-- oh, thank God." Rudy sighs in relief. "Dude, I love you so much." Madelyn chuckles. "Hey, baby. Hey, look what Maddie's got."

Y/N lifts her head off his shoulder and looks over at Madelyn. Her face lights up at the stuffed animal.

"Floppy!" She cheers, taking it from the blonde.

"See? I told you we'd get him back. You just left him at Aunt Maddie's house." Rudy says. "What do you say?"

"Tank you." Y/N tells Madelyn.

"No problem, kiddo." Madelyn softly smiles, pecking the toddler on the cheek.