#true love has never been so sweet..... and violent

[sssusuki]

Luka: Whaddya call a fish with no eye?

Hyuna, not looking up: Myxine Circifrons

Luka: fsh

Hyuna:

Hyuna, chasing after him: Get back here motherfu–

[werecreature-addicted]

Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

[fangswbenefits]

Obsession

Summary: Miguel tries to convince himself that his obsession with you was justified, but fails miserably as you spend the night over.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced reader. Breeding kink. Sexual tension and frustration. Reader has nipple piercings.

Previous parts: 1 & 2 (you may enjoy this one separately, but might miss out on some context)

Miguel tried to convince himself that adding a mic to your digital suit was purely for safety purposes.

He really did try.

But he couldn’t keep from listening in when you first wore it on your way to the spider cafeteria.

He had just briefed a squad and was monitoring Nueva York through a multitude of hovering screens, as he stood on his platform.

Tapping quickly on the flickering surface, he was able to zoom in on you through the ceiling cameras.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

The suit fit you like a glove and left little to the imagination. He was proud of his work. You deserved wearing something of his for everyone to see.

He saw you approaching a nearby table, taking a seat. In front of you were Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker with Mayday who greeted you with warm smiles.

The sound of your voice echoed through the walls around him, as you extended your arms.

“Mayday! Baby! It’s so good to see you!”

The little girl broke into a giggle and began wriggling forward on Peter’s lap to reach you.

You promptly took her in your arms. “Did you miss me? Did you?” your voice was slight high-pitched and you wiggled your fingers, tickling her. “Oh, I have a present for her.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you,” Peter beamed.

“I don’t have it here, but I think she’ll love it,” you said, patting Mayday’s back lightly, earning a genuine hug from her.

Miguel felt his heart clench violently.

You were a natural with kids.

You were just too good to be true and he felt his hands clench tightly.

Would he ever be able to have you? To make you yearn for him? To breed you? To have children with you?

“Wait, is that a… digital suit?” Jessica’s voice cracked through the mic.

You had your back turned to him, so he couldn’t see your face, but he felt the warmth in your voice as you spoke, “It sure is!”

He groaned lowly.

There you were… his sweet girl.

“Who gave it to you?”

“Miguel,” you said with that tenderness he had grown to adore.

He could easily get addicted to you saying his name, and he could only hope that, one day, he might hear it a much more compelling setting.

“Miguel… O’Hara?”

You nodded.

From the screen he could see her exchanging looks with Peter.

“It looks really cool!” Peter smiled enthusiastically, inspecting your sleeves. “Wish he’d offer me one, too.”

Jessica chuckled. “Well, I’ve been here with him for months and he’s never given me one.”

Jessica…

It was to be expected. She was no fool. He had scouted her precisely because she was anything but that.

You had been recruited only three weeks ago, but the hold you had on him was tight. He had never felt this way before with someone else.

You straightened in your seat, as Mayday nibbled on your thumb. “Wait… do you think I should give it back?”

Miguel felt his heart jumpstart and panic build inside him.

“No — no! Jessica,” Perer shot her a glare who merely shrugged, before offering you a kind smile. “It looks great on you. Did you pick the colours?”

“Yes! I’m really happy with the final result,” you said, helping Mayday sit at the edge of the table, as you secured her with both hands. “It was his way of showing gratitute.”

Jessica snapped her fingers after taking a sip of her drink. “You’re helping him out with the portals, right?”

“We’re working on portal stabilisation and reduced motion sickness,” you said and he could almost taste the pride and passion in your voice. “We’re making some progress.”

Miguel had gotten used to the random erections you’d awake from him throughout the day. But this one felt particularly painful.

You were so smart and so devoted. He couldn’t even take credit for the progress, because it was mostly just you.

His sweet and clever girl.

He glanced down at the outline of his strained cock, clicking his tongue.

By the time his eyes settled on the monitor, Jessica had walked away momentarily and he saw Peter lean in.

“Hey… are you and Miguel… a thing?”

Miguel froze.

Mayday proceeded to wrap tiny fingers around some of his locks, tugging lightly.

He wish he could have seen your reaction.

“Oh! No! No… we’re just friends,” you quickly said, waving your hands rapidly. “He’s like a mentor to me, really.”

Anger flared inside him. A friend? A mentor? He knew deep down this made absolute sense, but it still made him seething with rage.

Peter didn’t seem all that convinced, but nodded. “Just wondering. He’s not usually this… kind?”

Miguel felt his fangs threaten to emerge as he gritted his teeth.

There had been nothing kind about him building you a suit. He hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart.

He wanted to claim you and this had been the easiest and safest way for now.

“Well, I know he’s a grumpy,” you chuckled with a shrug, as you patted Mayday on the back. “Maybe he’s changing?”

You wouldn’t want him to change. Not really. The level of devotion he had for you was unmatched and nothing you could ever have from someone else.

“Maybe you’re a good influence on him?” Peter concluded, tapping his chin. “As a friend, of course.”

“Peter….” he growled lowly.

“As a friend,” you nodded. “Besides, there’s…” but your voice trailed off.

His erection nearly immediately deflated as dread took over.

There’s what?

He turned up the mic’s volume, but winced instead, as you banged on the table.

You cleared your throat. “Well, gotta go! I have work to do.”

Peter took Mayday back into his lap and chuckled. “Don’t forget her present!”

“I won’t! Wish me luck, though,” you said, crossing your fingers as you started to walk away. “I really need these chips to stop blowing and melting on me!”

“Good luck! Say bye bye, Mayday,” Peter waved his hand, which the little girl promptly mimicked with a giggle.

“Bye, baby!” you beamed.

Miguel had had enough.

He switched off your mic with a tap on his watch.

He really had tried to convince himself that his obsession for you was justified. That is was rooted in more than lust and desire, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

After you moved to Nueva York, he had you working closely to him on portal stabilisation.

But what had started out as something innocent, soon shifted into something else entirely.

Your company brought him peace and quiet, and ticket his brain just the right way to keep him motivated.

Until it didn’t.

Until you became his torment.

He had let you in his life in the hopes that you let him in yours.

The first time you gave him a boner was when he walked in on you in the lab, wearing nothing but a tank top and a pencil pressed firmly in between your lips, as you moved from screen to screen to check on the update progress.

The worst part? You didn’t even notice how utterly delicious you looked and how he could easily bend you over and take you right there.

No.

You just offered him a sweet smile.

One he hadn’t recovered from ever since.

“Miguel?”

He jolted as the voice snapped him from his torturous thoughts. “What?”

Lyla hovered nearby, eyeing him closely. “Fangs out,” she wiggled her index finger disapprovingly. “Pavitr and Hobie are waiting for you.”

His fangs retracted slowly as he tried to gain his composure back. “Why?”

“Mission?” she quirked an eyebrow.

Right.

“Now?”

“You’re already late.”

He growled, tapping on a few screens hurriedly.

“Oh, and Miguel?”

“What?”

The hologram popped near the screen to his left. “You might want to be more subtle when using her in-suit mic.”

He gave her narrow side-glace. “What do you mean?”

“Just saying,” she said, adjusting her heart-shapped glasses. “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

The door to his apartment swung open at once, and he stepped inside ready to decompress from the tiresome mission.

He had made plans with some of your audio recordings and his hand, hoping that would be enough to easy the pent-up tension that had been looming over year throughout the way.

It was a less than ideal situation, but would have to do for now.

That was until he noticed his living room was lit.

Pacing rapidly he was met with you.

In the middle of a pile of papers and electronic components scattered around the floor, he saw you sitting cross-legged with a pencil danging from your lips, his digital suit clinging tightly to your body.

“What are you doing here?”

Your bead snapped in his direction and the pencil tumbled to the floor. “Miguel! Lyla let me in.”

He was rooted in place.

Had it been someone else, he would have flung them through the window with no warning.

But you weren’t just someone.

And Lyla wouldn’t have let someone else enter his apartment, either.

“It’s quite late,” he said, pacing carefully toward you as not to step on anything. “You could have called me.”

You waved a hand dismissively and held a circular metallic object in the other. “Catch!”

Before he could say anything back, you had tossed it in his direction, which he quickly grabbed in between his fingers.

“Found what was wrong with it,” you smiled proudly. “It was stupid of me, really. There wasn’t any thermal paste in it. That’s why it kept blowing up.”

Miguel stared at the chip in his hand and blinked a few times.

“I assumed you were using it from the start,” he said, inspecting the cross section.

You rose to your feet in an instant and joined his site, excitement spilling from you. “These ion batteries should not require thermal paste — not for this amount of energy, at least. But yeah… my bad,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

Miguel locked eyes with yours and felt a familiar tingle in his body.

Fuck.

You were just so ridiculously attractive, and he wish he could hear you ramble about tech and science for hours.

“This is really, really good news,” he said genuinely, handing the chip back to you.

He squeezed your arm lightly as encouragement, knowing fully well he should be rewarding you in other ways.

His sweet girl…

You darted back to the floor, gathering some papers. “Sorry for the mess. I just had to figure this out and couldn’t sleep.”

A scientist at heart, you were.

Blood began to rush to his groin in no time. It couldn’t be helped. His body had been so on edge to finally fuck you, that it was in this permanent state of arousal around you.

“It’s fine. I still have those moments,” he said softly, crouching to help you out. “Sometimes I can’t sleep, and I have to do something else.”

“Like what?”

“I either go to the lab, or…” I jerk off to the thought of being buried deep inside you, he wanted to say.

You eyed him expectantly, biting your lip lightly, further hardening his cock.

“Well, it’s a bit late,” Miguel eventually said, standing tall. “Maybe you should get back to your apartment?”

He hated himself for even suggesting such option, but he didn’t want to push his luck. You being here would be fuel enough for the rest of the night as he fucked his hand.

“Oh, you just got back from a mission,” you fought back a yawn, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “I’ll just leave.”

Miguel nodded, but was crumbling inside.

Your face lit up again. “But this was great, right?”

Please stay.

“You did great,” he said with a short smile. “Go get some rest.”

Please…

You made your way down the hall and waved at him. “See you in the morning, Miguel.”

He should have let you go.

But something took over him, before he could fight it back.

“Actually, you could stay. It’s nearly four in the morning,” he tried to sound as casual as possible, but the excitement was hard to contain. “And we have to head back to the lab early.”

You turned around and he stopped breathing.

Too much?

Then he the backpack slide down your arm, hittingbthe floor with a thud. “Oh, thank you! I really didn’t feel like swinging back to my apartment,” you voice held pure gratitude and he felt his ego soar. “Only… I don’t have any clothes.”

He shook his head as realisation hit him. “Right. Wait here.”

“Okay~”

Bolting into his room, he went through his closet, fetching a shirt and a robe.

But before heading out, he decided to change into some sweatpants and a shirt himself.

His erection welcomed the looser material, and he’d be able to better conceal it from you.

Taking a final look at his cock, Miguel decided to give it a few pumps as if trying to calm it down.

He couldn’t believe his luck.

He couldn’t believe his sweet girl would be so close to him in his clothes and apartment.

And bed.

As he exited the room and handed the clothes to you, he cleared his throat. “You can take my bed.”

You looked up at him. “Oh… no, Miguel. You just came back from a mission.”

“I’m not that tired. Just take it.”

Please.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Anything that was his was yours. He would give it all to you.

“Be right back,” you said, before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

He immediately sighed in relief, adjusting his cock, feeling the first beads of precum spill from the tip.

How was he to survive this?

Not long after, you emerged again.

He glanced over at the length of you, taking in the sight of his shirt and robe on you. Your legs were still covered with the digital suit, but you looked absolutely ready to be devoured.

But he couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

His cock twitched in his pants, yearning to be inside you.

Then something else caught his attention when his moved up your body.

It couldn’t be…

Two symmetrical protuberances poked through the fabric of your shirt — his shirt.

“Are those…” his voice faltered momentarily, not trusting his own eyes.

You followd his line of sight and giggled. “Oh! Yeah. Got them pierced way back. Wanted to defy my dad and got them out of spite,” you went on, adjusting the fabric of the shirt under the robe. “But eventually kept them. They look cute.”

Cute?

Miguel was at a loss for words.

Your voice mixed with your carefree posture sent jolts directly into his cock.

“I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I didn’t notice them before,” he said, feeling his mouth run dry.

“I was wearing a bra,” you replied with a shrug and a tender smile.

This was almost comically painful.

You were the closest thing he had ever known to innocence as of late. Yet here you stood, wearing just his shirt, no bra, and with your pierced nipples poking through his shirt.

But none of that seemed to matter to you.

You were completely oblivious of how painfully hard he was for you.

“Did it hurt?”

“Terribly,” you said, still glacing down at your breasts and hardened nipples. “But I think it’s worth it.”

The adorable way in which you said it was almost driving him insane.

Just how innocent could one person be…

Before he could even process his thoughts, he spoke, “Can I…”

Your eyes met his and Miguel feared he had now fucked it up for good.

Brilliant, Miguel…

“Oh, you mean… you want to see them?”

Should he back down and just deny his intentions?

“You’ve never seen nipple piercings before?”

He shook his head.

Just as he was about to tell you to forget it, you lifted his shirt, revealing your breasts to him.

He nearly exploded right there and then.

“Oh, please!” she giggled. “We’re people of science, and you haven’t seen this before. Science is all about curiosity and discovery.”

Miguel, however, wasn’t listening to any of that and felt as though he was hypnotised. He could tear his eyes away from your perky nipples and the metal rods that went through them, a tiny spider danging from each of them.

He wasn’t sure when or how he had got so close to you, but he lifted his hand to touch one.

His cock twitched violently and he felt his mind hazy with lust.

“They’re cool, right?” you beamed, allowing him to swipe the pad of his thumb across the tiny spider.

“Yeah.”

Really ‘cool’.

More precum dripped from his tip and had to fight back his fangs from slipping out.

He wanted to bend over and dart his tongue out to play with them. He wanted to tug on them and wanted you to arch your back with a soft moan.

You pulled down the shirt again and he flinched his hand back instantly, swallowing hard.

“So… if — when you have a baby and want to breastfeed… will there be an issue?”

Of course his need to breed you had to surface at the worst possible time.

But he had to know. He needed to know if that would be a nuisance. He couldn’t take any risks and he wanted you completely ready to carry his children.

You shrugged, adjusting the robe around you. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I got them, but I suppose I just have to take them out.”

He nodded, taking a few steps back.

You stretched out with a yawn. “Mind if I go to sleep now?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

You were about to whirl on your feet, but decided against it. “How do you say ‘thank you’ in Spanish?”

That caught him off guard and his eyes widened. “Gracias.”

Then you gave him the sweetest smile. “Gracias, Miguel.

He could cum just from this alone.

How he would teach you the filthiest things in Spanish… how he would whisper them in your ear, knowing fully well you couldn’t understand a word…

You then slipped into his room and closed the door.

He ran both hands through his hair, wanting to let out a scream.

The things he wanted to do to you…

The things you deserved done to you…

He brought one hand down to tug at his waistband, revealing his soaked cock.

Then he bit the back of his other hand.

Hard.

He didn’t even care if he drew blood.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

Engulfed with overwhelming frustration, he pressed his forehead against the tall window that overlooked Nueva York.

He had to calm down, or else he’d have to synthesise a serum to lower his levels of testosterone…

He had to find a way to stop.

As minutes ticked by, he decided to check your bio readings on his watch. Your heart rate had lowered significantly, indicating him you were now asleep.

The predator in him took control again and he paced towards his bedroom, opening the door just enough to check on you.

Fast asleep.

He walked in with careful steps, finally taking in the sight of you on his bed.

The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed for the faintest moonlight to be cast on you.

He felt his heart was about to implode as he drew near, slowly sitting by the edge of the mattress.

You lay on your back, breathing evenly and covered up to your waist with a blanket.

Miguel took a deep and shaky breath.

You smelled of him and his bedsheets smelled of you.

Such a powerful and dangerous combination, that he almost considered gripping his cock.

Bur decided against it.

Instead, he say there, staring at you, absorbing every single detail of your body.

His hand twitched as an itch took over it.

An itch he had to scratch.

He reached out to graze the back of one finger along your forearm, feeling your warmth coating his skin.

His sweet girl…

His imagination ran wild and he had hoped he could have fucked you to sleep, not sliding out of you, making sure you’d take his seed.

Pain swallowed him whole as despair settled.

What if he never managed to make you his?

What if you decided you wanted nothing more than a friendship?

How could he cope?

Suddenly, you flinched and rolled to your side and heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Tom…”

Miguel was left petrified and his blood ran cold.

Who the fuck was Tom?

Part 4

Masterlist

[meefy]

I've talked about codependency and how it presents in Hunter x Hunter, and now I want to talk about how it presents in Dungeon Meshi - specifically between Thistle and Delgal.

Thistle, from the start, is in a perfect place to be taken advantage of and manipulated. He was taken from his family as a child, and he knows nothing about his past, not even his name. His sole purpose is to be there as a fool to entertain those with power. Delgal's father names him and raises him like a "son" and a "brother" to Delgal...but let's be honest, there is nothing normal or "brotherly" about how Delgal and Thistle interact here:

Thistle is not an equal with Delgal. From Delgal's perspective, Thistle is court magician and confidante, the one who can save his life and his kingdom. I certainly don't see Delgal considering Thistle a "friend" or member of the family. Perhaps when he was younger, but definitely not as an adult. Some of the earlier interactions between Thistle and Delgal as the latter grows up might have been sweet - sneaking food to share, talking about Delgal's marriage - but that sweetness quickly turns sour when we see how Delgal treats Thistle when the elf cannot be of use to him.

There is a tremendous amount of pressure on Thistle's shoulders. He knows Delgal's love for him is conditional; we can argue that Delgal yelled at him in a moment of desperation, but the fact that Thistle later feels the need to apologize (for...not being able to make Eodio defy death?) tells me he's used to asking Delgal for forgiveness where there is nothing logically to forgive.

Delgal, however, offers heaps of praise for Thistle when he keeps his kingdom and people safe.

Delgal needs Thistle to maintain rule of his kingdom and keep Eodio alive, and in turn, Thistle needs to be needed to feel fulfilled and useful. Thistle is Delgal's codependent, and Thistle has misconstrued putting aside his own wants and interests (his Adventurer's Bible page lists his likes and dislikes as "Nothing") in favour of serving Delgal and only Delgal. Thistle craves the affection he receives in return, and who can blame him? He has no family to speak of, no connections to the world outside of Delgal. Praise from Delgal is all Thistle lives for - and so he pours himself into creating the dungeon, keeping his people safe to the point of immortality.

So when Delgal and Eodio begin to talk about leaving, it's understandable that Thistle reacts so violently. If he can't protect his people, he can't earn Delgal's affection and praise. He is too deeply entrenched into the role of dungeon lord - the role of Lunatic Magician - to see that the dungeon is falling apart, and that Delgal probably long regrets asking Thistle for help.

Thistle is so obsessed with protecting Delgal and earning his love that he maintains this obsession for an entire millennium. Mithrun eventually tells him that Delgal is dead, to set his people free, and Thistle is in complete denial. He continues to search for Delgal even after learning the truth from Mithrun. He is so panicked about finding Delgal and proving that Mithrun is lying that he is driven to self mutilation.

Thistle's love for Delgal is not "true" love - it is obsession. But, in turn, Delgal's "love" for Thistle is not true love, either. Delgal would not have placed blame on Thistle for his son dying, would not have praised his use of dark magic, would not have placed the weight of his life on Thistle's shoulders...had he truly, purely loved Thistle. And I think Yaad knows this, because, when Thistle finally "reunites" with Delgal, he gives Thistle the apology and accountability the elf never got at any point during his life. He's sorry he made Thistle worry, and he's sorry he placed so much weight on his shoulders...those are things Delgal likely never said to Thistle at any point in time, but that Thistle deserved to hear after a thousand years. And I think it's very telling that the apology he got from "Delgal" isn't from Delgal at all - because the real Delgal probably wouldn't have apologized to Thistle in the first place.

I know there's some debate about whether or not Thistle is dead at the end of Chapter 96. But I am of the belief that yes, he is - that after finally being freed from the burden of needing to earn approval and protect everyone, and hearing Delgal apologize for it all, Thistle is at last able to rest peacefully.

[itachiiwrites]

He wanted them three rounds, DC had to come help him

Pairings: Established relationship, bf!gojo, reader is AFAB, a little lovesick gojo, he's overworked :(

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, freaky!gojo, marathon sex, p in v, (multiple) creampies and orgasms, squirting, feral gojo, sex in general.

Gojo Satoru is a freak..

Rumors about him being an absolute slut is true, but there is no bigger example than Satoru who is a slut and a virgin, a walking contradiction, before he met you.

Satoru looks at you in almost apprehensiveness when you give him a soft gaze at the revelation. This wasn't a look of disappointment, it looked like....pity. And Satoru hated being pitied more than anything.

He's a little embarrassed, although you reassure him that it's something you will never care about.

"You are literally juggling too many things with barely three hours of sleep, and virginity is a social construct anyway.." You shrug, looking up at him hovering over you, his tip nuzzled between the ingress of your sopping pussy, and oh how he thought that the pity would make his cock soft but it didn't, it just made it harder. It was a little pathetic, the way his cock was so easy that mere words of care and tenderness and acknowledgement for his furious schedule has got him rock solid, with the pearls of his precum clustering on the exterior of your sweet cunt. He was that love starved.

It took everything to not give your pussy mauling thrusts already, he was never the one to talk about how he indeed wanted a break sometimes and he wouldn't even now, especially being this horny and excited that he felt like a dog in heat. He had more than a good idea of how to go on about it, he had seen it in the bad porno that never appealed to him.

"Sweetheart..just let me put it in, I feel like my cock is gonna explode..I don't want to think of a bunch of blobs that I exorcise, not very hot.." He chuckled cheekily, leaning into your cheek, looking at you with the periphery of his eyes with a lecherous gaze, planting hot, open mouthed kisses onto your jaw and neck while he ached.

"Always a brat.." You sighed, grabbing his endowed cock from the base, pushing it into your velvety walls with a look of challenge and amusement laced onto your face.

After that, all hell broke lose. There was nothing that would stop Gojo Satoru now, not even if he was to be kept caged within his infinity. He would break it, just to discern your sweet, sweet cunt.

The challenge that was plastered onto your face just vanished, your assumption that Satoru would stop just after the first round with the orgasm that hit him with the speed of light, which made him finish so fast that it was deplorable, was so so wrong. He went on, and on and on.

And Gojo Satoru was innately confident, the fact that this was his first time didn't matter. He was always explorative, always excessive. Bold of you to assume he understood the concept of moderation.

"O-oh..fuckk..Toru.." You looked up to him with your glassy, nearly red rimmed eyes from the nth orgasm of the night, your cloying moans just made him keep going. Your was pussy puffy and clit violently engorged after being fucked this thoroughly.

"U-uh-huh..yeah, you like that..fuuuck baby, look at you.." He cooed with a feral grin on his lips as he steadily moved his hips, keeping your legs hoisted up on his shoulders, getting the hang of it. His hip movements no longer uncoordinated. He had always been a fast learner. He stills his hips with a series of whimpers as he came with hot white, thick ropes into your womb, pulling out with a lewd pop that spilled the cum stuffed inside down to your ass. You moaned softly, hazy and a little disoriented as your fluttering pussy pushed it all out.

He hummed at the sight, tapping and massaging his now agitatingly red tip onto your clit, he himself could feel his brain seem afloat, reverberating to take you again even after the multiple orgasms. He was dead set.

He hissed softly with widened eyes, in surprise and amusement, a full blown throaty laugh echoing his throat when you squirted, gushing out like a dam. He vigorously rubbed his sensitive cock on your sloshing pussy, his cock unbearably hard again. He was hooked, addicted. To you.

He grasped your hips, pulling you forward which made you mewl at the suddenness. He pressed his hefty weight on your body, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. If he had a laceration on his brain from the way this image of you burned in his head, sprawled underneath him, all flushed, sweaty and a mess, just for him. He would die rather than using his RCT.

"God baby..you washed my cum away, gonna hafta, fill you up again.."

©𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐢𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

Plagarism not authorised.

m.list!

[aethelwyneleigh27]

Realizations

Dad!Simon Ghost Riley x Wife!Reader

Thank you guys so much for 1k, it means the whole world for me because now once did I expect to ever have my page grown this big and not once had I imagined that I would make these many friends here who happened to be so sweet. Also to @connorsui who has been most definitely been waiting the answer to this.

So in honor of 1k, I wrote this long awaited backstory for Ghost and Lovie (Ghostie's parents) that I hope you guys will enjoy since it so happens that our beloved @ave661 has posted another Dad!Ghost render. (Credits to her again for the renders in this post <3) (Sweetie, I love you but that tag on Soap with this render was unnecessary 😭🫶)

To the people who congratulated me, through replies, likes and reblogs, I owe y'all a fat kiss. Mwahhh <333

My CoD Masterlist

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @shadofireshinobi @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @ghosts-cyphera @cutenote @connorsui @capuccino192 @thesnowurzikdjinn @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @trepaika @starryylies @demidemon09

Warnings/Disclaimers: Stalking (not by Simon), Typical mentions of CoD violence?, Mentions of Simon's past abuse, Creepy guy?? (Not Simon), Mentions of violent and a bit gory descriptions on what wanted to do to the stalker, This is not proofread yet.

With the words of my mother and in true reputation style, Are you ready for it?

I think I need to say this on my account again, English is NOT my first language and all copyrights regarding the plot and some characters within the storyline belong to me. Edit: please help me y'all, I'm losing so much relevance in the span of less than a month, my recent works have gotten nothing and I'm scared that this post proves that. I think I've learned my lesson never to take breaks ever again 😭

Simon never imagined himself in this predicament, always thinking that he'd be out there somewhere, more likely drowning himself in a mission. Not even a home, he thought that if it hadn't for your persuasiveness to interact with him back then then he'd still be back in that shitty apartment complex.

Simon placed his duffle bag on the wood of the porch, the jingling of his keys while he looked for the correct one. He tried his best to make as little noise as possible, it was passed midnight, the last thing he would want was to disturb his wife and daughter from resting.

Hauling the duffle bag in and throwing it on the couch, Simon opt to see what his girls were up to. The giggling and commotion making him smile, you both were supposed to be asleep by now but you were unable to put her to rest because she's just too hyper, so that left you to entertain her by tossing her up and catching her.

"Dada..!" A squeal from the room came, the little one snapping her head to the opening of the door making you look as well, Simon took a peek from the half-way opened door.

Adorable little thing clapping her hands together, pleased that her dad is home while sitting on her mom. She got off, crawling near the edge of the bed with no sense of danger, fortunate for her that her dad is quick with catching her before you could.

You took a deep breath from the shock, looking at your husband and smiling sweetly at him. He asked you not to get off the bed as you were about to, laying next to you he snakes his arm underneath you on your waist and pulls you in.

"I missed my girls.." He said, voice deep and laced with exhaustion, despite that his hold and gaze was the warmest it could be.

"We missed you too Si, so much." You mumbled as your eyes flutter shut to enjoy his touch. You opened them to the sound of a kiss, he kissed the little one's forehead then yours.

Sometimes you vaguely remember the first time he and you met, how it even came to be, this life of domesticity. You, him and your little girl, family is a heavy word for Simon but it was just perfect. This was the family he wanted, the family that he thought he didn't deserve and never would have.

The feeling of coming home to all this started because you were so forgetful, who knew that would be the skill that brought you to him..?

• ──── ✦ ──── •

He emptied his pockets, to the lieutenant's dismay, the box of cigarettes only had one stick left. Since he was going out to smoke it anyway, he might as well get another box from the convenience store nearby. He took his keys from the kitchen counter and headed out, hearing a little commotion that peeked his interest.

Simon never paid much mind to whatever was going on within his apartment building despite the many gossips that were present within the building and the renters. So it happens that the old lady next to his place mentions how they'll be a new tenant in the other apartment next to his.

'Thank God' Simon thought, not that he was particularly religious but he'd been hoping for the longest time for the former renter to leave because let's be honest, who wants to live next to a frat boy with no sense of shame or consideration given that walls are thin? Little did he know he'd be blessed with the next one..

"Oh- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to.." Simon hears a voice from a little below him, he'd only register what had happened after the fact. Poor girl carrying this box bumped into him a little too hard, so much so that she stumbled back a bit.

You stared up to the 6'4 man blinking, he only shrugged it off to which you smiled to. You tried to make small talk since you were new and it wouldn't hurt to at least know one person right? After all, you were trying to step out a bit of your comfort zone.

"Hi.. I'm [Name].." He only stared at you for a while and replied, "Simon.." you gave him a warm smile before nodding and continuing to bring the boxes into your new apartment while your new neighbor entered the elevator.

You cut the boxes open to start unpacking, a few minutes in and you decided to go on a short break, you rummaged through the small box of food only to find that the recently bought box of tea was empty. You sighed at this, humming as you remembered the convenience store you passed by earlier on the way to the apartment.

Taking your keys and locking the door behind you, you made your way out the complex and walked a few blocks, you only started to notice how late it was with the streetlights coming on even though the sun is only about to set. That's something to get used to, hmm?

The cool breeze hits your skin as you enter, scent of faint instant coffee and many other kinds of foods and products made themselves known. You walked around for a while, checking on what other things you might need but then you tried to remind yourself that you were saving up and on a budget so you took a box of tea and walked up to the register.

You heard footsteps behind you falling in line, after placing the box on the counter, you searched your pockets for your wallet.

'Shit..!' you cursed yourself out mentally trying not to panic as Simon basically watches you frantically patting your pockets, you left your wallet back at the apartment. "You left your wallet-" Simon stated the obvious, "I'll cover it.." there wasn't even a time to argue with him, he just stepped next to you and placed the pack of cigarettes.

"I'll pay you back as soon as we get back to the apartment" You insisted to which Simon only shrugged and declined, it's just a box of tea and it's not like it'll make him go bankrupt, besides he liked your taste, the one you got happened to be his favorite brand.

Since you were headed in the same place anyway, you and Simon walked back together side by side, however one thing you did find odd was when he gently took you wrist and pulled you inward next to him, he was the one now closest to the road.

The walk back was silent, a comfortable silence. A few days after that encounter, you made sure to make an effort for him to know that you appreciated his gesture back at the convenience store. The lieutenant was alarmed by the knock on his door, opening it to find no person but a tupperware filled with buttery shortbread cookies.

He smiled at how tiny the plastic container looked in his hands, how he noticed the note attached "Thanks for the tea, this isn't that special but I hope you like it -[Name]" and the Sanrio themed stickers stuck onto the lid and on the top part of the tiny note. You ran out of sticky notes..

Simon found himself snacking on those cookies later on, oddly enough, they reminded him of his mom.. how she used to love baking back then, it was her way of escape whenever Simon's "father" wasn't home, as well as gardening.

For the first time in a while Simon "Ghost" Riley let out a smile that wasn't smug or a smirk but a genuine smile, one that had warmth to it, one that no matter how hard his mind tried to surppress it, his body refused to.

It didn't take long for you and Simon to get to know each other a bit, little by little it seemed like you two were becoming like friends rather than just neighbors. Let's be honest, who just randomly gives their neighbors weekly baked goods for the sole reason of "just because they wanted to"?

You found yourself always looking forward to the Friday nights chilling with him at the rooftop, mugs with hot tea on hand while he smoked and you read.

Listening to his stupid jokes and remarks that slowly turn into deep conversations and life things. Simon was just... far more open than he's ever been, sure he's talked about his day before to his comrades but never like this, not in a way where he's pouring his heart out, letting you in on how he feels about certain things.

He just got back from a mission, a rough one to be exact. Shoulders slumped from exhaustion as he walked the streets near the apartment complex, no space for his bike so he had to leave it somewhere private while he fidgeted with it's keys.

Simon swore that he almost jumped out of his own body, first instinct being to push you off but he recognized you. He gave you a questioning look, hands were shaking as you so desperately linked you arm around his.

"Hmm?" He hummed, hearing you mumbling something but it was incoherent to his ears.

"Behind us.. please Si, help..." Come to think if it, you never knew when Simon turned into Si. Best believe he knew and still remembers when perfectly.. not the time, there's a serious threat, he didn't look. He didn't need to, guessing by the heavy footsteps, some creep decided to follow you at this hour.

He slowly slipped his arm away from your grip and snaked it around your waist, pulling you in closer to his side while the two of you continued treading closer to the complex. You closed your eyes for a few seconds at a time hoping it would end.

• ──── ✦ A few days later ✦ ──── •

Knocking, frantic knocking was what Simon heard at his door. He wasn't expecting anyone, so why the sudden visit? He opened the door and saw you, Simon knew something was off from the look on your face, you looked pale as if you were sick to your stomach while trying so desperately to catch your breath.

"Can I please come in.. Simon..?" You asked in between breaths. You looked around you, especially behind you, body shivering a bit. He took notice of this and had no hesitation, he pulled you in by your arm. His grip firm but gentle, Simon closed the door behind him.

"Remember that guy who was creeping around when I asked for your help..?" You tried to explain but Simon already knew the moment your mouth opened. You had a stalker.. it was best to call the cops on shit like this.

Simon did his best even though not knowing much about how to comfort someone, he did well in making you feel safe without having to tell you that he'll do so, you just know it in your gut that he'd protect you even if it's just now.

Your breath picked up, slowly backing away from the door as you heard footsteps, clenching your fists and hoping that he didn't see you enter Simon's door. Simon wrapped his arms around you, keeping you in place and from further backing away from the door.

You felt his palm drag up and down your back, it was extremely warm, it stopped for a while. His arm wrapped around your waist, other hand in your hair pushing your head down a bit so it was buried in his chest while you gripped his shirt. Simon felt your trembling body against him slowly relax.

"Deep breaths, angel.." The nickname he whispered would've made you smile under any other circumstance but not right now, you needed to calm your nerves before you panic and make an impulsive decision that could hurt yourself. Like instructed, you followed along Simon's demonstration, pressing his forehead onto yours maybe just a bit too intimately.

You winced at the loud sound of banging on the door, you knew it too well. Simon shoved the handle of his combat knife in your hand, he told you that if anything were to happen, protect yourself with it.

As soon as the Lieutenant swung the door open, you could hear punches, things knocking over and among other things, your stalker's voice.

You'd never forget that, how pitchy it was. Nails on the chalkboard was the best way to describe it, how the man was cackling almost made you annoyed. Simon called on security and the man was dealt with, you came out from hiding and saw both fear and anger in Simon's eyes.

You would never know how much he wanted to tear that man's heart after skinning him alive for even bringing fear into your eyes.

Simon "I care too much for someone I just met" Riley finally saw how his knuckles and fingernails were caked with blood, went off to go wash it and himself.

Getting back to you after half an hour, you reached out for him only for him to withdraw, you looked at him confused and he looks at you with pure guilt..

Your eyes widened in realization, "Oh Simon.. I'm not scared.." you smiled at him. He reached out a shaky hand to you, hesitating before closing his hand back.

You took his hand in yours, bringing it up to your lips and giving it a small kiss, hoping it calms his nerves. Well it did the opposite, it even more overwhelming for him having you kiss his palm while you look up at him, watching you nudge your face into his palm so invitingly.

The way your lashes just sat perfectly atop your cheeks while you slowly blinked up at him. Pressing the same scarred and calloused hands that almost killed a man that night on your face and rubbing the back with you thumb.

Simon had never felt that much guilt before for hurting someone, only after he saw the look in your eyes, which in turn were not something he caused. For the first time in his life too, Simon was comforted by something or rather someone immensely..

[darkestspring]

Could you do a fic about what if rhanerya and criston had a daughter ( reader) from that one night and she looks just like rhanerya so ppl assume that she is rhaneryas and Leanor’s only true born kid and rhanerya is a yandere parent and doesn’t let criston near her baby and criston just has to deal with seeing leanor,Harwin , and daemon all being father figures to his little girl and when she married aegon he finally has the opportunity to have a relationship with his baby since she is finally away from her mother?

you were a lovely child.

That was Ser Criston Cole's first thought of you.

You were indeed a lovely child, his lovely child. he had no absolute proof that you were his but he knew that you were.

There was one problem, he was a knight sworn to have no children, but here you were, estranged from him as you were.

Estranged was a strong word, you were kept away from him by your mother, you didn't know of him.

"Ser, is mother really going to be okay?" Your soft voice carried over to where he was escorting Alicent. You looked up at Ser Harwin with soft eyes full of concern.

You were such a lovely child. So concerned over that... mother of yours.

"She'll be okay, Princess." Ser Harwin assured you, pressing his hand on top of your head as your smile finally returned and Criston felt jealousy.

as irrational as it sounded, it should have been him.

That's why he found joy in taunting Ser Harwin as you entered the area to watch your brothers. He ignored how Aegon practically preened under your attention on him, brief as it was.

See how violent he is, Crison spoke internally, see how unfit he is to be by your side, my beloved girl.

Then there was the issue of Laenor, that incompetent "father" of yours. He wasn't fit either. He wasn't fit to be your father nor was he fit to be loved by you.

But an opportunity presented itself and as much as the sight of Prince Aemond horrified him, it was a brilliant opportunity.

"My granddaughter will marry my son, Aegon. Let peace be had." Viserys' words had been final and Alicent kept her silence seeing the anguish on Rhaenyra's face as she held you close, tears in her eyes as it was you murmuring words of comfort to her rather than the other way around.

Serves her right for keeping you away from him.

Ser Criston's dark, disapproving gaze went right through Daemon as he patted your shoulder softly, the same affection in his eyes. The love of a father.

This wouldn't do. He was your father and now you'd be here, where he could protect you. Where they couldn't reach you.

Alicent had disapproved at first, lamenting over the fact that it hadn't been Aemond that you married but you brushed it off quickly, never fully disconnecting from Aegon's side.

Aegon lessened his alcohol intake. Never fully stopping but he stopped drinking as much, always laughing softly as your nose scrunched up at the smell.

You could have done worse so, it was good that you were here.

"Ser Criston." You voice sounded surprised as you saw him guarding your door. "I thought you'd be guarding the queen." You trailed off softly.

"I was given direct orders to protect you, princess." He responded as if he hadn't pleaded with alicent for the opportunity. "Should you not be asleep?"

His chiding reminded you of your father figures and you felt melancholic.

"I can never sleep properly at night. It gets so cold at night." You sighed softly.

"Shall i acquire more covers for you?" He jumped at the opportunity to help you.

He was awarded with your smile, your sweet, beaming smile as you nodded. "I would really appreciate it if you could."

what wouldn't he do for you? All you need to do is ask.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Another morsel of the Mafia bad sanses ... pretty please

After Nightmare decides you're now his, the other three skeletons become your bodyguards. They're the only ones allowed around his human. They rotate as Nightmare sees fit - some days, it could be just one of them, and some days it could be all three at once. Depends on who's available. And who Nightmare is getting jealous of

They don't tell you what they do when they're away. There's a lot they'll give you. That information is one of very few things they won't.

Killer's bodyguard days mostly involve junk food and videogames, which can be a relief when you're constantly around people who seem accustomed to exorbitant amounts of wealth. But he's also, conveniently, the only one Nightmare trusts to take you out of the mansion alone. Dust has his own agenda and is much too untrustworthy, Horror's protectiveness might cause a scene if he doesn't have another powerful skeleton around to reel him in. If you want to go on a quiet duo daytrip, Killer's your man.

Killer is honestly a pretty good friend. He knows how to make you laugh, even in your deepest slumps. He pays attention to what you like, he's never too energetic to notice the moment and slow down when you need him to. But... at the end of the day, he simply can't be trusted with your innermost thoughts. Not when he's so hard to read; not when there's so much he clearly isn't telling you. Everything could be fake. You have no idea.

Dust will spend his one-on-one days looking after you. He's very much the one who gets your innermost thoughts. You both complain in low tones to each other about your current situation, making the most of having someone else who understands. He promised he wouldn't leave you alone here. He was serious about that.

Nightmare trusts Dust with you the least. But he can literally taste how much of your stability and comfort relies on Dust's presence. He isn't happy about it, but Dust gets to play with you for now. But Nightmare has made it (violently) clear to Dust that if he ever acts on the soft & romantic feelings Nightmare can sense within him, there won't be room for mercy.

Horror really likes being your sole bodyguard for the day, because he gets to double as an in-house chef, cooking whatever you like. He loves looking after you. It's still difficult to imagine Horror as the monster people say he is; you know logically that it's true. But he's just so sweet with you. He bakes, he smiles, he follows. He tries to tell a joke but fumbles, but you laugh anyway and his whole face lights up. How can this possibly be the man from all the stories you've heard?

Nightmare is, honestly, pretty awkward when he's actually got time to be alone with you. He likes taking you to nice places, but he doesn't ever know what to say. He's not used to being flustered - and his stony face and frightening aura mean that when he's flustered he appears unamused and scary. There'll be plenty of misunderstandings where you think you're boring/offending him, but really, he's the happiest he's been in months.

Nightmare is aggravated that you grew to like the other three before him. Were they any other men, he'd simply have them killed or sent away, unwilling to share you with anyone... but as vicious as he is, he doesn't want to immediately frighten you so severely. And he can't really afford to murder all three of his top soldiers just because he's jealous.

... Nightmare's power grabs around the city have slowed almost to a halt.

Dream has noticed.

[petit-etoile]

in the moonlight (my darling, do not fear)

pairing: astarion/tav wordcount: 4184 content warnings: mentions of injuries, no in-depth descriptions, minor spoilers for astarion's act ii romance other tags: canon-typical violence, canon complaint, hurt/comfort, whump, developing relationship, love confessions, gender neutral tav, elf!tav archiveofourown: here. sentence prompt: "you're like a sickness, a disease, and the only way for me to be cured of you is to let you completely consume me until my body has no fight left." — from here. summary: defeating the orthon is no small task. the hardest part is what comes after.

　　　　　　𝐈. ﹕previous fic　　　　　𝐈𝐈. ﹕next fic

‘No!’ he shouts, and it’s so loud it echoes on the edges of your mind. ‘You can’t die.’

I’m not dying, you think but the words never leave your lips. In the depths of your consciousness, you can faintly remember the battle with the Orthon. Karlach had killed the displacer beast, hadn’t she? Shadowheart had blinded the Merregon… You remember violent flashes of light and the shaking of the Gauntlet. Trying to remember takes too much energy, and thinking about opening your eyes makes your stomach roll.

‘Get up, damn you!’ Astarion snaps harshly.

He paws at your desperately, shifting rock and ruin, and when he presses his hands to your side, stars flutter behind your eyelids so violently all you can do is moan. It’s your turn to shove at him. You push at his hands and feel your fingers glide against his skin. But I’m too tired, you want to say. I just want to sleep, to dream. Eventually, you give up your fight and relax into the darkness. Maybe when you awaken, the illithid parasite will be gone and you will be cured. You can only hope that it comes true.

Astarion has other plans for you. He curses your name so sweet it could be a perfectly mulled wine and leans forward. His ear tickles your lips, and whatever he hears come from it is enough to make him heave out a relieved sob. His hands are on your face again. His fingers are sticky, and they smell like powder. He jostles you so violently that you groan against your will, but it doesn’t seem to matter much to him.

Astarion rests his head against your chest right where your broken collarbone has begun to throb. You struggle to open your eyes and stare at the roof above you, but you don’t see the familiar ceiling of Shar’s Temple. The celestial glowing swirls have been blocked from sight by ugly granite floors. If you really put your mind to it, you can recognize Karlach’s desperate cries on the other side.

‘What happened?’ you whisper.

‘You were supposed to jump down!’ Astarion snarls. ‘Gods, why didn’t you jump down!’

The panic in his voice is enough to make you try harder to retrace your memories. You had plunged your blade into Yurgir’s chest but couldn’t manage to pull it out. It hadn’t killed him. Yurgir had laughed at you, had laughed at your friends  —  He had never hated anyone more at that moment.

It had taken the blade you kept on your hip to finally kill Yurgir. He had dropped bombs, you recall. It comes back to you easily now. Astarion had been right behind you and was going to follow you down, but you were so wounded he insisted on helping you jump away from the bombs before they exploded. But you hated heights, you hated the feeling of falling.

‘Scared,’ you admit.

‘Ha! Scared!’ Astarion repeats, tone pitching up in his hysteria. ‘Karlach was going to catch you!’

‘I couldn’t,’ you say. ‘I was scared. I couldn’t jump, I couldn’t do it. I’m sorry, Astarion.’

A shaky sob escapes his lips. ‘Don’t be sorry, my love,’ he whispers. ‘Don’t close your eyes again.’

A shudder of exhaustion runs throughout your body. You want to ask questions. You can feel them on the tip of your tongue, but moving your jaw is more work than you’re currently cut out for. Without craning your neck, you try to assess the damage.

The displacer beast’s claws had torn your sleeve. You remember how its teeth snapped shut close to your face, and how now matter how hard you tried to push it away, its thick neck kept you from escaping. Shadowheart had distracted it with a clone. Desperation had pushed you to follow Karlach up the steps so that you could fight the Orthon. For Raphael’s contract. For Astarion.

You do as you were commanded. You stare at the shaking, makeshift rooftop and blink dust from your eyes as it filters down like mocking snow. Astarion’s head feels particularly heavy at this moment. With a sudden, horrified realization, you fully come to terms with the situation you’ve found yourself in.

You are lying in a puddle of your own blood and too broken to move. Half of the floor you were standing on has fallen beneath you and blocked you from your allies, and the only one at your side is Astarion. It must be like death itself to sit there surrounded by blood while injured. He could heal himself if he drank. You raise your good hand and place it against his white-silver curls.

‘I know I usually offer first,’ you say sheepishly. ‘But if you need a drink  —  ’

‘Have you lost your gods-damned mind?’ Astarion hisses.

Before you can say anything else, he sits up and leans over you. You are easily distracted by his beautiful, marble-like complexion which is marred by the dirt and dust and blood. He’s beautiful.

Astarion’s cerise eyes are frantic. ‘I do not mean to alarm you, but you are dying.’

Like the ceiling’s fate above them, the reality of the situation comes crashing miserably down on top of you. Shadowheart’s spells cannot penetrate the wall that has come between you. You realize it now. You press your hand against the hole in your side delicately and laugh a little, staring at your fingers coated with blood. You close your eyes, but Astarion’s distressed whine has you search frantically for his face.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper, horrified. ‘I’m sorry. I’m  —  Do not hate me.’

‘Please,’ Astarion begs. ‘Just stay awake. Stay with me. Karlach is trying to get through; All you have to do is stay awake, please.’

You search his face for some hint of comfort, but it’s hard to see through the dark spots knotting in your vision. You do your best to push away the panic, to force the tears back into your eyes. You don’t want to die, not yet. Raphael still has to translate the runes on Astarion’s back. Shadowheart wants to finish the gauntlet. You want to save Karlach’s heart, to absolve Wyll’s pact, to save Gale. Selfishly, you want to kiss Astarion again without any of that which comes after. You want to savor the weight of his mouth against yours.

‘I’m sorry,’ you tell him again. You swallow harshly. ‘This must be like torture for you.’

Astarion chuckles hoarsely. ‘While you are very tantalizing, this is…nothing compared to two hundred years.’

You smile faintly. Two hundred years of carrion, and now you are laid out in front of him as delicious and forbidden as the feast Raphael offered you once. He ducks out of your view to lay his head on your chest. Though he tries to hide it, you can feel the little shudders of his sobs.

I’m sorry, you think to the ceiling. The weight of Astarion’s head against your shoulder is agonizing to your broken collarbone, but whatever he is doing, he is doing it with such reverence it reminds you of the religious devout and their steadfast adherence to their god.

He burrows his face into your chest, careful to stay small over you, to be mindful of your condition. He tries to balance his breathing so that it’s quieter and less disruptive, but no matter how hard he tries, he cannot quell the frightened way his shoulders jump. You close your eyes for a moment just to memorize the sight of it.

‘No,’ he says suddenly, sitting up. ‘You promised. You cannot die, I forbid it. You said you would protect me, and you cannot do that if you are  —  Speak to me, damn you!’

‘’m awake,’ you say tiredly. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’

‘You cannot,’ Astarion insists.

‘Next time,’ you say, ‘I will jump.’

Astarion shakes his head, and little drops of his tears rain down on your skin. ‘It isn’t the smell of you that makes it hard,’ he confesses brokenly. ‘It isn’t even about the damned Infernal runes. It’s you, everything about you. What is left for a disease like me when someone like you goes away?’

‘You will lead them,’ you tell him.

Astarion’s nose wrinkles at the idea. ‘I am not particularly interested in being the face of a revolution,’ he says. ‘No matter how beautiful I am. I am still a sickness, a beast. You are the only one good enough to lead us.’

‘You are like a sickness, then. A horrible disease,’ you say, mindful of the way his eyes narrow. ‘The only way for me to be cured of you  —  to be the cure for you, is to let you consume me until my body has no fight left, Astarion.’

‘How dare you,’ he says with a coquettish shrug.

You can hear Karlach slowly working through the rest of the rubble now. You hate to feel too hopeful, but you can almost hear the sound of the shattered floor breaking free. They were coming to save you, to save him.

‘That was rather poetic, you know,’ Astarion tells you. He watches your face intently as if afraid he’ll miss out on something exceptional. ‘You’ve never been one to use such gorgeous words.’

‘I wanted to,’ you say softly. ‘For you, my love.’

Astarion’s eyes widen as those words fall seamlessly from your lips. You aren’t sure if he meant to say them earlier. After all, he’s only ever been fond of calling you darling or a delectable little treat, treating you recklessly with careful honeyed words. As if getting any closer to you might coax him into accidental oblivion where your name might leave his lips thus solidifying you as something to be treated with care. A pomegranate seed between his teeth.

The shock doesn’t stay for long. Your eyelashes flutter though you fight against it. The decaying darkness around your vision has almost reached the center. You cry faintly and press a hand against your side, horrified that your blood is still pouring from you even if it is slower now. Perhaps you are running out of blood. You want to tell Astarion to drink it all up before it’s mixed with the sulfur and ash, but words are hard to form. Your heart skips a beat.

Don’t let me go to waste, you beg helplessly, reaching out to his mind when yours is all but gone. A heart-wrenching sob erupts from his chest. When you next awake, there is relatively less action than what was happening before. There are no violent tremors of a floor threatening to collapse. The sound of frantic shoving is absent. There’s only a dim hum in your ears, and the sound of a hushed fire burning well into the evening. You slowly open your eyes and blink away your sleepiness.

Shadowheart’s healing spell still hovers over you, but she’s not in your tent so she must be concentrating somewhere else. Your collarbone still smarts and you can definitely feel every single bruise you’ve ever received in your life, but you feel stronger, fuller. You reach a hand as if to inspect the wound at your side again and find the skin there is closed now.

‘You’re awake,’ Astarion says softly. ‘Thank the gods.’

You sit up quickly and feel the world turn sideways for it. Lightning dances along the back of your eyes as you try to steady yourself, and Astarion reaches out to ground you as you sway back and forth. You wonder just how long he’s been sitting there in your tent waiting for you. Your head throbs faintly once you manage to open your eyes.

‘Thank the gods,’ you echo breathlessly. ‘You brought me back?’

Astarion grimaces as though embarrassed. ‘I wasn’t the one who carried you back to camp, no,’ he says almost petulantly. ‘You’ll have to thank Karlach for that. But I have sat here since then, I must admit.’

‘Everyone  —  ’

‘Everyone else is fine,’ Astarion interrupts. ‘Halsin aided Shadowheart in your healing. Gale procured herbs, Wyll kept vigil at camp while you slumbered. It was all very twee. You’ll be sad you missed it.’

Astarion raises his chin much like a cat who desires petting. He would never admit it, but you can see it on his face. He’s relieved. If he were anyone else, he might weep for joy at seeing you awake again. It isn’t who he is, so you settle for knowing that he has not left your side since you escaped the Gauntlet.

You sit up further and wave your hand through Shadowheart’s healing spell. It doesn’t disperse as much as you wish, but you ignore it, crawling across your lumpy bedroll so you can wrap your arms slowly around Astarion’s neck. He freezes beneath your touch and begins sputtering, but then you feel his arms wrap around your waist. He burrows his face in the side of your neck.

‘I’m sorry for scaring you,’ you mumble against his ear.

You hear him swallow. ‘I’m not apologizing for yelling at you, if that’s what you want.’

‘I would never ask you to,’ you insist.

Before, you thought it would be a small hug. Something to show your thanks to him. You loosen your arms around him so that he can pull away, but if anything, Astarion drags you closer to him. He hides his face in the spot beneath your ear and inhales deeply, memorizing your healthy scent intently.

The hug lasts longer than you thought it would. It’s almost as healing as the magic, too. You hold Astarion as close to you as he will allow, rubbing circles and tracing his curls at the nape of his neck as if to promise that you will never leave again. You decide to sniff him tentatively as well, and beneath the dirt and ash from the collapse, he still smells like Astarion.

You startle a little when you feel his hand tuck beneath your shirt, his fingers reaching to touch a hint of your bare skin. Someone was kind enough to drag the heavier armor from you, but you still have your bloodied shirt on. Astarion’s cool touch is welcome against your aching spine.

‘I thought,’ he says slowly, ‘that you had sentenced me to a lifetime of loneliness again when you were felled earlier. At first, I was so angry that I thought I might hate you for your mistake. I wanted to kill you myself once the dust had settled.’

‘Astarion  —  ’ you start to say, hopeless apologies on your tongue.

‘You will let me finish,’ Astarion says harshly, though he nuzzles you. ‘Elves reincarnate, but how long does it take? How many years would I be forced to wait before I caught the scent of you on the wind?’

You’re freed from his grasp, but you aren’t allowed to escape far. You both kneel in your tent, one of his hands on the back of your head, the other at the side of your waist where your skin had been ripped open before. Astarion allows you to see him for who he truly is. His eyes are soft, weak when he stares deep into your eyes like he’s afraid he’ll forget you.

‘You have made this sinner a worshiper, though it’s no gods I am on my knees for,’ Astarion says to you. ‘The only hymn I care to rehearse is your heartbeat. The only prayer is your name. I begged the gods for years that they would save me, but you are the only divine who has answered my call.’

Your breath catches in your throat.

Astarion presses his hip into yours. ‘I wanted to wait to tell you,’ he says with a miserable shake of his head. ‘To think more.’

‘You still can  —  ’

‘I cannot,’ he admits. ‘When I close my eyes, all I see is your body beneath mine with your life’s blood spilling from you. You begged me to devour you.’

‘I wanted you to be strong,’ you admit. ‘Before, you told me you were only allowed to dine on creatures who couldn’t think. Who knows how long your strength would have lasted…’

His eyes seem to contain infinite sadness. You try to be intent with your words, but you’re distracted by the way he releases his head to palm your chest, pushing his fingers so forcefully skin it’s as though he’s determined to dig through your flesh to grip your heart in his hand. You’d allow him if he asked.

‘You are so self-sacrificing it’s insulting,’ Astarion snorts. ‘Do you think I would have continued in this realm without you? Never have I felt so selfishly about someone before.’

Carefully, almost as if he’s never done it before, Astarion leans forward and presses his lips against yours gently. All you can think about is his overwhelming devotion even as you respond to the kiss, melting against the touch. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this.

And you do miss it. You hate being in the Shadow-Cursed Lands more than you hate the lift in the mountains. Everything is dark and dreary and dead, and your companions are prone to being even more distant and distressed than they were before. You feel as though you are of little hope.

But Astarion kisses you now like a man who is breathing air for the first time. His mouth is hungry and insistent, and his hands cling to your skin more than he’s ever clung to you before. It causes you to blush. It’s unlike him to show such desperation. He’s willing, open, honest  —  yet this kiss is so different from the ones you experienced before. It’s almost chaste. He kisses you like a knight would kiss his charge.

‘But I want this,’ he whispers, breath ragged against your cheek. ‘I want you.’

‘Astarion,’ you murmur. That's all you can say.

He presses his nose against your jaw. ‘Whatever my intentions were before, to the hells with them,’ he says harshly. ‘I want us to be something real, something true if you’ll have me. It’s what you deserve.’

‘I do,’ you confess, almost embarrassed. ‘You must’ve known how silly I felt pestering you. You were the first person I sought out when I returned to camp.’

‘You did have a rather obvious air of desperation about you,’ Astarion says with a small laugh.

‘But I wanted you to come to me of your own accord,’ you continue. You touch the edge of his collar. ‘I lacked confidence. I did not want to force you into something knowing your history.’

He kisses you again. This time, it is a little less chaste. Astarion is determined to devour you, mind, body, and soul. His hands wander as though they’ve never felt your body before, and there’s something anguished about the way he returns to cradling the back of your neck. Your mouth is nothing but a scripture he is determined to practice.

You feel drunk with exhaustion. Having been settled between death and undeath for so long has left you feeling as though there is nothing in your sinew, and Astarion is making matters worse. Your head is filled with nothing but him and his unpredictable mercy. You cling to his shirt and struggle.

What have you done to deserve such boundless devotion? You have listened to, and pleaded with, every emotion he has given you. You’ve taken and given and created anew. Now Astarion becomes. Everything you have given him evolves to become this. When he is finally finished memorizing your mouth, he pulls away and confronts you with barely concealed hunger.

‘Say it,’ he begs desperately. ‘Say you want me too.’

‘I want you,’ you say. ‘Gods, you must know this. There’s nothing I want more.’

‘I wanted to manipulate you,’ he says, horrified. He hides in the crook of your jaw. ‘I wanted to use you as a shield, someone to stand behind.’

‘I am not a very big shield,’ you say.

He doesn’t laugh. ‘I was going to do what I had done before,’ he says. ‘Use your emotions for me as a weapon, but  —  I never want to see you near another weapon for as long as we live. Do you understand?’

You press a kiss to his hair. ‘Shall I stand behind you now?’

Astarion does laugh at that. He faces you fully now, hands cupping your cheeks. ‘You may as well be regulated to nothing but camp duty. You find a place for us to rest, you sew our clothes up when they come back with holes in them. I’d say you could make dinner, but…’

You brush a lock of his silver hair away from his eyes and run your thumbs against the swelling. He’s just as exhausted as you are even if he has yet to admit it. The building’s collapse has left him equally as tired. You encourage him to lay down with you, and he does, curling at your side with his head on your chest.

‘Will you be our fearsome party leader?’ you ask. You close your eyes and try to imagine it.

‘Oh yes,’ he swears solemnly for your sake. ‘I will hold the map and point us in the correct direction. Hopefully my leadership will lead us away from Shadow-Cursed things and back to the streets of Baldur’s Gate. I am so ferocious that whoever controls these parasites will give up upon seeing my muscles.’

You try to imagine your life without the tadpole. It seems relatively empty without Shadowheart and Lae’zel’s bickering, and you would miss the way Halsin and Gale are prone to rambling on about whatever is holding their interest at the time. You’d miss Karlach and her boundless enthusiasm for dancing. You’d miss Wyll, too. You’d miss the way he always watches your back.

Would you have met them in Baldur’s Gate? Would Astarion have picked up your scent and chased you down an alleyway intent on drinking your blood? He would be as he was before, angry and cruel and distant. For a moment, you’re almost grateful that the mindflayers had kidnapped you that morning. The circumstances surrounding it were dire, and you hated the gross wiggling the worm was prone to doing when it wanted you to be authoritative, but you would miss them.

‘I don’t regret it, you know,’ you say suddenly.

‘You do not regret what, exactly?’ Astarion asks. ‘Getting blown up and nearly dying? You should.’

You snort despite your best attempts not to. You press your palms against your eyes and try to keep from laughing too hard. For what it’s worth, Astarion does let out a small chuckle. You can hear his frown.

‘Aye,’ you relent. ‘I suppose I do regret nearly dying and. I don’t regret what came before it. If Raphael asked me to strike down all of the gods so that he would translate your back, I would do it without asking a question. You deserve to know.’

‘I cannot overstate how…appreciative I am of that,’ Astarion says finally. ‘But, just so you know, I would do the same for you without question. I have most of the time. I trust at least a third of your decisions.’

‘All of the decisions I make,’ you begin.

But Astarion interrupts, ‘I am sure you make them with everyone’s best interest in mind. Sometimes it works out. Sometimes you end up blown to bits.’

‘I do not regret letting you feed from me,’ you say, pretending he never opened his mouth. ‘I do not regret the silly way I fell into your honeyed words. I do not regret killing the Orthon. I do not regret you.’

‘We’ve barely just begun.’

You swallow. ‘And I will see it through until the end of time,’ you say. You’re fully aware that it’s too soon to make sweeping grand declarations of love, but you can’t stop yourself from saying. ‘You will never be alone again.’

You take Astarion’s silence in stride. You want him to know that he isn’t the only one capable of saying disgustingly romantic things. In the wake of your unconsciousness, you feel a rush of things you haven’t felt in quite some time. Life felt dreary in the mountains and worse in the Underdark. You hate when your world feels as though it’s crushing you. Now, even in the dark, it’s as if the sun shines on your face.

‘I love you,’ you say.

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you,’ you repeat, this time with more meaning. You try to roll onto your side, but your shoulder fusses too much. ‘I want you, and I want this. Forever.’

‘Forever,’ Astarion repeats, a sense of wonder entering his voice as he toys with the taste of it on his tongue. Once again, he sits above you, his head pressed against your chest, shaking as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat beneath your skin. ‘I like the sound of that.’ You smile at the sound of a purr in his voice, and allow yourself to imagine what forever means.

[81folklore]

heaven - OP81 - part 5

pairings: oscar piastri x private!reader (fc: gracie abrams)

summary: australian adventures of yn and oscar

type: social media au (smau)

authors note: IM BACK WRITING MY FAVORITE ANGELS!!! ive been feeling slightly more motivated so i thought id just continue a story instead of creating a new one (at least whilst im in this slump) i do hope you enjoy!!

heaven masterlist masterlist

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant and 7,191 others

oh australia how ive missed you and your gifts 💫

view comments

user3 whats the best gift australia has given you??

yourusername oscar!!! liked by oscarpiastri

user3 SHUT THE FUCK UP WHATTTT?!?!??

user62 i feel SICK THEYRE SO??

oscarpiastri oh my goddd

oscarpiastri 😍😍

user4 you cannot separate oscar from that emoji

yourusername not even i can😕😕

oscarpiastri you can pry it from my cold dead hands

user81 that dog is so stinking cute

user22 yess but that dress is GORGEOUS

user5 right shes sooooooo pretty liked by oscarpiastri

user88 australia is the one whos lucky!! liked by oscarpiastri

user67 like they are being blessed with the yn ln

yourfriend3 you are oh so lovely liked by oscarpiastri

yourfriend3 i take it back stop your boyf from liking my comments abt you

yourusername he loves me🥰🥰

oscarpiastri i do!! its true!!

oscarpiastri 📍location home

liked by yourusername, lilymhe and 52,281 others

my favorite lady in my favorite place

view comments

user18 SHE IS HIS FAVORITE LADY OH MU GOD😭😭

user17 AND HIS FAVORITE PLACE IS HOME😭

user24 oh my god she is gorgeous liked by oscarpiastri

user84 i will never ever get tired of them

user28 i hope theyre in love forever and ever liked by oscarpiastri

user55 oscar liking this comment☹️☹️

yourusername my babyyyy

yourusername oh how ill always love you liked by oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri 🩷🩷

twitter

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 8,729 others

the day you entered my world you changed my entire view on life and myself, you help me find love and happiness in things i never expected and showed me how to appreciate the smallest things in life.

sometimes i wonder if im being selfish, how can i be worthy of all the love and time youve given to me? surely there is someone more deserving, someone who needs everything youve showed me more? i think about what i must have done in a past life to be gifted with you and then i wonder if we are destined.

maybe i dont deserve you in this life, maybe i dont deserve you in a thousand other lifes. but i believe we are meant to be which means for every universe we dont find eachother, we find eachother in a hundred more

im so glad we found each other, i dont know if i deserve you but i promise i will cherish and appreciate you the way i have done for 6 years and the way i will continue to love you for as long as this universe allows and then i will love you even longer in another

six years used to feel like forever but now ill never have enough time, happy anniversary lovely

view comments

oscarpiastri you continue to help my heart keep beating

oscarpiastri i didnt think love was real until i found you

oscarpiastri we will find eachother in every universe i promise

oscarpiastri you are the prettiest and most lovely person i have ever met and you deserve everything and more

yourusername my good looking boyyyy🩵🩵

user29 i have no words i cant comprehend what im reading

user10 i feel so violently ill they are so sweet

user62 my parents everyone!!!

user53 is that an engagement ring?!

user33 wait pause

user5 theres no way right??

oscarpiastri

liked by yourusername, arthur_leclerc and 62,379 others

you’ve impacted my life in more ways than you will ever know and im so thankful that i get to love you for all eternity, you have such a beautiful soul and i can’t believe i get to hold it

happy six years and to a lifetime more

view comments

yourusername you are so so incredible

yourusername i dont know how many other ways i can say it but i love you

oscarpiastri i love you too

user66 they are sooooo

user7 oh my gooooood i am a puddle of tears

user56 you just dont get them like i do

user32 anyone else sad we didnt get a long caption like yns was beautiful

yourusername oscar said more than enough in his letter☺️

user43 OH MY GOD HE WROTE HER A LETTER😭😭😭😭

user3 six years.. six damn years and they are still so in love

user48 guys are they engaged or not😭

yourusername not!! we are still young and exploring ourselves and the world and we are still grow into better people. we didnt want to rush when we still have so many things to do but we will when we know we are ready🩷 liked by oscarpiastri

user65 i didnt know it was possible to love two random strangers so much☹️☹️

yourusername added to their story

seen by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 9,372 others

text on story reads: 🩷🩷🩷

oscarpiastri added to their story

seen by yourusername, aussiegrit and 105,482 others

text on story reads: sunshine ☀️☀️

twitter

[flem17ng]

Oblivious: Mapi Leon x reader

note: this is for the anon who asked for mapi leon fic! I hope it’s what you had in mind xx

Summary: Reader is absolutely infatuated with mapi and she has no idea. Luckily some friends decide to help out.

content: mild age gap but not really

word count: 1.4k

“do the drill y/n! you can drool over leon later!” Patri sighed as she watched you, yet again, get distracted by the older player. This had been happening more and more frequently: everyday it seemed you were found gazing at Mapi from across the field. today was no different as you watched her sprint forward, tap the ball with her toe into the air and volley it across the field. 

clàudia slapped your arm with a grin. 

“one of these days she’s going to notice how in love with her you are hermana” 

“shut up” you grumbled, turning back to the drill. It was true that you made it pretty obvious. It seemed like the whole team knew about your crush on mapi except mapi. It’s not like you had a chance anyway! she was older than you, more experienced and probably the single most attractive woman you had ever seen. So yeah, you didn’t think you really stood a chance. 

“don’t be silly Pina, we both know Mapi wouldn’t recognise y/n’s crush if it slapped her in the face” Patri laughed with a shake of the head.

“can we change the conversation please” you whined suddenly finding the drill a lot more interesting than before

“change what conversation?” 

You whipped around only to find yourself face to face with the very girl you’d been looking at only seconds before. Mapi smiled at you (a sweet lopsided grin that made your heart speed up). 

“oh nothing! Just y/n and her big, ga-“

“my dead grandma” you almost shouted causing a few people to look at you in confusion. Mapi raised her eyebrows. 

“we where talking about my very dead grandma! that’s all!” you gave Patri a stern stare. 

“oh…” Mapi looked between you and the two other girls. “oh i’m sorry I didn’t know. um… well it’s water break now” Mapi backed away a few steps before turning and walking towards the drink bottles. 

“y/n what the fuck” Clàudia muttered. You looked at her, mortified. you needed to pull yourself together. 

***

It took you a whole 2 days to embarrass yourself even further. So maybe you weren’t able to pull yourself together like you told yourself you would. 

The game was a stunner. 9-1 to Barcelona. It was no secret that Mapi was the most valuable player on the pitch that day either. She was everywhere she needed to be. The final goal was something you knew you would never forget: Playing attacking mid, you raced into open space managing to lose your marker just as you neared the box, a second later you could see Mapi weave past the opposing striker and boot the ball towards you. Time slowed down as you jumped, letting the ball hit the top of your head, giving it the slight redirection it needed to skid into the top corner of the goal.  

You wasted no time turning at running towards the tattooed defender who’d assisted you. Her smile in the moment was better than the whole crowds cheering put together. When you crashed into her with a hug, you didn’t even think before kissing her cheek. 

“Mapi! I did it! I swear I could kiss yo-“ you cut yourself off when you saw Mapi’s eyes go wide. The awkward silence didn’t last long as the team descended on you both with loud cheers and slaps on the back. 

***

“you what!!” yelled Patri when you where safely in the car home.

“don’t make me say it again” you groaned, sinking further into your seat, covering your violently pink cheeks with your palms. 

“no i’m going to make you say that again! You said you could kiss her? Jesus y/n!”

Patri shook her head while Clàudia laughed from the backseat. 

“what did she do!” Pina laughed, clearly finding your embarrassment very amusing. 

“she just stared at me! god she’s going to think i’m a freak” you sighed. You could brush it off as heat of the moment, but you know it wasn’t. You could kiss her. Hell you wanted to, everyday you wanted too. 

“you guys are friends! she’s not going to think you’re a freak” Patri laughed

You just sunk further into the leather of the car seat, hoping it would swallow you up. 

***

Mapi was pacing the change-room the next day after training. The thought had been grating on her mind all day. Ever since you avoided her in the car park that morning. Usually you arrived at similar times, chatted about your morning, music, life, but that morning you had parked as close to the building as possible and practically ran inside at the sight of the older player. 

Mapi had shrugged it off but then during training you seemed to be making a visible effort to avoid her. It made her gut twist to think you were upset with her. hell, it made her feel sick to think you were upset at all but no one needed to know that. 

“god it’s just painful to watch at this point” Patri groaned to Alexia as she entered the change-room, only to stop short when she saw Mapi staring at her. 

“hey Mapi! I thought you would have gone home by now” Alexia smiled, much better at playing a poker face than Patri. 

“oh uh, no. I wanted to check on Y/n” she muttered. 

Patri smirked, “oh and whys that?” Alexia slapped her arm to be quiet. 

“she just seemed weird today. Like she avoiding me or something” Mapi groaned. It was weird seemed her like this, so unlike her usual bubbly self. 

“you really have no idea?” Alexia asked. Not teasing, but a genuine, gentle question 

“no idea about what?”

“she likes you Mapi! she has for a long time. If she’s acting weird around you maybe it’s because she’s losing hope.” Patri explained, watching mapis mouth fall open into a little ‘o’. 

“i didn’t realise” she whispered. Inside she could feel her heart speeding up like a kid. she smiled excitedly, “she really likes me?”

“oh god your oblivious sometimes leon” Alexia laughed. 

***

Anger couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt when she told you. embarrassment, mortification, rage. You didn’t even have the energy to yell at her when you got the text from Patri telling you that she had told Mapi about your feelings. You simply sent a text to your coach telling him you were sick, locked your phone and cried. 

You knew people would try to get in touch with you, hell some even tried calling your landline but you ignored it all.

How could you show your face at training again?

after a day or so you unlocked your phone. 

4 missed calls from patri, 3 from alexia, a large paragraph from clàudia and-

one text from Mapi Leon. 

You tapped the notification. 

today, 10 mins ago. 

mapi 🦁:  I wanted to kiss you too. 

You almost dropped your phone when you read it. and then you re-read it. and then you really did drop your phone when a loud knock came from the front door. 

“please y/n. It’s me” you heard her voice float through the hallway. Her tone was pleading and you could picture her expression: soft but with a wrinkle in her brow that only appeared when she was worried or upset. 

When the door opened, she stepped inside without hesitation. 

“y/n” she said breathlessly. Her cheeks were pink as if she’d been running and, just as you had imagined, her brow was crinkled with worry. 

“mapi? how did you-“

she cut you off with her lips, cradling your cheek with her hand causing you to gasp. 

she pulled back, looking from your eyes to your lips for permission to kiss you again. 

“Mapi…”

“i’m sorry i didn’t realise sooner. I’m an idiot i know”

You smiled at her and shook your head, finally giving in and reaching up to smooth her worry lines. 

“just kiss me again león” you laughed. and she did just that. Pulling you closer by your waist and kissing you deeply right there on your doorstep. 

Maybe you were an idiot, maybe she was oblivious, but hell she was a good kisser. 

shit, You needed to thank Patri.

[blu3n]

Manias of love.

dating jason todd would include:

1.) He wouldn't have time. He's a busy man, he has a commitment to Gotham. It was rare that he had time, so you would have to get used to it. But he would find time for the two of you.

2). Words of affection would be different. Don't expect a "you're a goddess", we know that Jason has a dirty tongue so his compliments would be more like sweet insults so to speak, Jason would never disrespect you he was "well educated" for that. his own morals did not allow it.

3). physical touch. , jason never had basic love for his family or anything like that, so I believe he would want affection all the time if you, even if he didn't know how to say very well that he wanted it, he would touch you, you would discover over time what his touches meant.

4) to cook. This man would cook for you, so be aware that he would be keeping an eye on your meals, how many cups of coffee you had or if you ate.

5) communication. he is not good with words but I believe he would try to talk especially when it involved his own feelings but he would come to you when something was wrong, in his own way of course.

6) Argument. your conflicts would be rare but when that happened he would be proud at first he wouldn't admit he was wrong (if that was the case) but when you left his line of sight with that broken expression he would hug you and say he was sorry. be patient.

7.) PTSD. we know about the traumas he has been through, be aware that he can explode at any moment, but it is never your fault. At those times you had to leave him alone for a while but make sure you were there with him, it is not his fault.

8.) words of affection . Jason after his resurrection has insecurity about his physical appearance. When it happened you had to show that it was not true, saying words like "I love your body" or, "I love how attractive you look", or something like that, this is your absolute weakness to hear from your girlfriend's mouth that no matter how many scars he had, he was beautiful to you.

#blu3n

talking about point.

( 7 ) — I once lived with someone who suffers from PTSD, it's no joke, the person changes and becomes violent, the terror I went through is not easy. I imagine we will suffer with this for a while until we get used to it coming from him.

[statusexile]

[tw: corruption kink, fisting, squirting, dirty talk]

Ghost is a regular at the coffee shop where you work as a barista. He visits at least five times a week and always orders an Americano. Even with his balaclava on, you can feel his intense gaze on you every time you take his order, sending shivers down your spine. But he has never said anything besides a simple thank you, so it catches you off guard when he finally asks you out on a date.

Your first date with him was perfect. Despite his cold demeanor on the outside, deep down, he was a true gentleman. You feel absolutely comfortable talking to him, even though it was your very first date. When you told him that you had never dated anyone before or had sex, he was surprised — how could someone as beautiful as you never been with anyone before? But instead of judging or pressuring you, Ghost simply smiled and continued to treat you with the utmost respect and care until the date ends. As the two of you continued to go on dates, Ghost finally confesses his love to you.

Ghost may present himself as a gentleman, but you had no idea what he had in store for you. He loves you, but his main intention was to defile your innocence, to twist you into his corrupt and depraved little fuck toy.  And Ghost is a patient man; he’s willing to wait for however long it may take for that day to come.

The first time you had sex with him was absolutely sweet and beautiful. He took his time, spending at least an hour prepping you and making sure you were comfortable before finally fucking you with his throbbing cock by making you cum on his mouth and fingers first. You could feel your pussy stretched when he finally fucks you with his monstrous cock, making you sob from the sensation. Ghost peppered you with kisses and praises as he slowly fucks you, reminding you how good you are for him.

But that was a long time ago, as you now find yourself spread open on his couch, legs splayed wide as he thrusts his entire fist into your wet cunt. The sharp pain shoots through you as his knuckle pounds you deep inside while his other hand holds a lit cigarette, casually taking drags as he ruthlessly fists your cervix with forceful thrusts. You are completely under his control, reduced to a writhing mess as he ravages you without mercy, determined to completely destroy your cunt.

“Look at you taking my fist like a champ, love” Ghost’s voice drips with scorn and disgust as he takes another drag of his cigarette, inhaling deeply before exhaling a cloud of smoke while continuing to violently fist fuck your already sore and bruised cunt. You let out a guttural scream that echoes through the walls of his apartment, tears streaming down your face as you feel his knuckle ruts into you. It feels like he’s trying to rip out your organs and leave you gutted like a fish. You can’t help but revel in the feeling of being completely owned by Ghost. And deep down, that’s exactly what you wanted all along.

“Oh, you want to cum, sweetheart? Come on, cum for me, cum on my fucking fist you pathetic little slut,” Ghost growls sadistically as he plunge his fist deeper and faster into your throbbing cunt. Broken sobs escape from your raw throat, but your body responds to his command soon enough as you finally squirt all over his hand, the warm liquid dripping down onto the couch and coating his tatted forearm with your cum.

Your body trembles as he forcefully pulls out his fist from inside your throbbing, stretched-out cunt, leaving it hollow and dripping with the remnants of your juice. He shoves his hand into your mouth. Your tongue greedily laps of your own cum, drinking it like a rabid dog.

Ghost found you first and now you’re his forever to ruin however he pleases. ♡

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Headcanon with TF141 & König with Fem! Reader who had amnesia after loss blood from battlefield and how would the mens react. Pls!

Oof ouchie owie my heart 😭 this is so mean I love it 😭😭😭😭 (I’m not crying YOU’RE crying)

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

When the nurse told him you suffered amnesia due to the severity of your injuries, he didn’t want to believe it. He refused. Even though they told him it could last a few minutes to several weeks or months, he didn’t want to believe it.

So he went to visit you, sat beside your bed, balaclava twisting nervously in his hands as he watched you sleep. He eventually dozed off, arms crossed over his chest, head resting back against the wall. He woke up to a soft prodding at his shoulder,

“Excuse me, are you the nurse?” You’d asked, throat hoarse and exhaustion evident.

“Who do you think I am?” He asked, his heart beat so hard in his throat, his stomach churning and heavy, he felt violently ill

“I… don’t know to be honest. I’m not sure why or how I got here.” Your voice was small and uncertain and fuck he wanted to cry. His eyes burned and his throat threatened to shut.

What should he do? Tell you what happened and risk further trauma? He’s the reason you were out here in the first place. What’s the right thing to do? What would you do in his position?

“Sir? I’m sorry, I’m just really thirsty. I’m sorry to bug you.”

“Don’t sweat it, here, have my water.” He uncapped his water bottle and got up to bring it to your lips, you took it from his hands before he could tip it back,

“I’ve got it, thank you.” You said with a weak chuckle. At least that’s still the same. He watched you drink your water, weighing his options in his head. If the roles were reversed, you’d be honest with him. Gentle, but firm. Even if it pained you, you’d tell him the truth.

“I’m sorry, have we met before?”

He was a both a coward and glutton for pain.

“You can call me Ghost, for now.”

He still wasn’t sure if he’d tell you about all the nights spent together, all the mornings you had breakfast in the mess hall together, your apartment that you shared, the tattoo he has under his collarbone of your callsign or the matching one you got of a skull on your hip. This could be his chance to spare you the pain of sticking around him any longer.

But he’s selfish, in that sense. He’s had you, he can’t lose you now.

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s devastated. He’s absolutely heartbroken, there’s no way this is happening. He’s convinced it’s not real. It’s a bad dream and he’ll wake up in your arms and it’ll be gone. How he wishes that was true.

He comes into your room, the nurses words echoing in his head, triggering his tinnitus, making him nauseous. His legs are horribly unsteady and his hands have never shook this hard. He feels like such a fool for being so fucking weak in front of you like this.

This isn’t about him, it’s about you. It’s all about you, it’s about setting things right with you, it’s about bringing you back to him. It’s all about you.

He sat beside your bed and waited for you to wake up, and when you did you smiled so wide when you looked at him, that he honestly believed the nurses were wrong

“This might be wildly inappropriate, but you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

God how he wished the nurses were wrong.

“Could say the same for you, love.” He swallowed the lump in his throat and stamped out the ache in his chest

“Love?” You blinked in confusion, “are you my- oh god, I’m sorry, I… I don’t remember.”

“It’s alright, the nurses said it could happen. You’ve been through a lot.”

“If I’m here then, yeah, seems like.” You chuckled dryly,

“I’m Johnny.” He held his hand out to yours, you took it and couldn’t help how soothing his palm felt against yours as you introduced yourself shyly.

He could be strong. For you. He’d do anything for you, whether you wound up remembering or not, it didn’t matter. He’d do anything.

John Price:

He’s shell shocked. Please god no. Not you. Please sweet fucking Christ, not you. He doesn’t go to see you right away, he sits in his office quietly. He’s sitting in the dark, replaying the events that led up to this over and over in his head like a fucked movie on loop.

He snaps. He’s flinging everything off his desk, it’s all flying to the floor, he’s screaming, crying, raging. The team hears it and they all run to his office, Ghost is the only one to successfully hold him back. He eventually gives up and starts sobbing. Perception be damned.

He’s clutching onto Simon like his life depends on it, Soap and Gaz quietly start picking stuff up off the floor,

“Come on, mate, she needs you. Clean up and go.” He’s not stupid. He’s seen you two, seen the way you are with one another. It’s the best kept secret of the 141.

“I know. Fuck, I know.”

He hesitantly walks to your room, his heart pounding a mile a minute, he hears you talking to the nurse and you sound a little hoarse but it also sounds like you’re drinking water. He waits until you’re done talking and walks in, he steps aside to let the nurse walk out and sits beside you,

“How’re you feelin’?”

“Not great but the pain meds help.” You laughed weakly, “and you must be?”

“John.”

“John…?”

“Just John.” He sighed, slowly taking one of your small hands in his, giving you every opportunity to withdraw, “Your John.”

He’s a patient man. He can wait.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

He’s in tears before the nurse even has a chance to walk away, Price has a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in an attempt to keep him grounded

“None of that, Gaz, just go see her. Somewhere in her heart, she’ll be happy to see you.” His words were reassuring and it helped give him the boost he needed to go and see you.

So he did, with an arm full of flowers, your favorite snack and candies, and fruits of course. He came in and set them down at the table quietly, watching you watch him as he did so. He took a deep shaky breath and pulled the chair up to the bed.

“Is that all for me?” You asked with a shy smile, even under the unflattering glow of the fluorescent lights above you, you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen,

“Yup. I thought if I’d brought you the things you like, it might help you recover your memory.” He swallowed his tears, swallowed the lump in the throat, he’d set it all aside because there’s work to be done.

“I take it you and I are quite close then?”

“As close as two people can get, without being related.”

“Hm. That makes me happy, you seem really sweet…?”

“Kyle. Or Gaz. But you’ve always called me by my name.”

His heart skipped a beat when you tried his name out, getting a feel for it on your tongue, and then you smiled softly at him.

It’ll be hard work but fuck you’re so worth it.

König:

He feels violently ill. He’s nauseous through and through, he’s in shock, he’s grieving, he’s mourning, he’s furious, he’s appalled, he’s miserable

It’s all playing over and over and over and over again, the exact moments that led up to this. You trusted him and let you down. He fucking let you down. He ruined it. He ruined the one good thing he had going for him in this shithole. It’s gone it’s all fucking gone. And it’s all his fault.

All of that was repeating in his head as he punched a hole in the tile in the bathrooms, it repeated when he’d try to sleep until you woke up, it repeated while he’d wait for you, it repeated until there was nothing but self-inflicted venom pumping in his system, circulating mercilessly

And then you woke up. He’d at least had the presence of mind to take his veil off so he wouldn’t startle you, but in his vitriol he forgot something,

“You’ve got a little something on your uh… all of that.” You sleepily laughed, pointing at your eyes,

“Ah yes, that’s intentional.”

“Why?” You blinked in confusion, weakly trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes,

“Helps keep me concealed when I wear this.” He lifted the veil in his hands for you to see,

“I imagine it’s hard to do with your size.”

“It can be but I’m quite determined.”

“You seem upset, I take it you and I are close and the nurses told you?”

He gently took your small hand in his, his eyes watering, lower lip starting to quiver,

“Oh schatz, you have no idea.” His voice shook and your heart broke for him, his accent brought you peace even if you couldn’t exactly remember why, you could still put the pieces together. You don’t know why, but you wanted to be strong for him,

“Then give me an idea.”

[punkpandapatrixk]

💝Valentine & White Day Love Transmission ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

In Japan and Korea, Valentine's is when femmes give gifts to hommes; and exactly a month after that, on March 14th, the hommes return that Love with white (preferably) gifts that are expected to be at least three times the value/price of whatever gifts they’d received from the femmes😏

Traditionally it’s kinda like that. Hmmm… isn’t it obvious the celebration has never had quite any meaning in a country such as Japan and that the festivity is nothing more than a heavily-commercialised youth-tradition focused on the pursuit of shallow material desires?🤮

But…I guess it’s OK; because it’s cute anyway🥴

Within the context of this reading, the Valentine and White Day Love Transmission imparts the perfect synchrony of the Love shared by the Divines Feminine and Masculine. It is when affection is given and returned in Love and everything becomes beautiful and worth living for~💝

SONG: Space Orphans by Aoba Ichiko

MOVIE: Peter Pan (2003)

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Don’t give up just yet; I’m on my way!

8 of Cups Rx, 4 of Pentacles Rx, Knight of Cups Rx

Darling, are you on the precipice of giving up on me?! Do NOT settle for someone—ANYONE—who’s NOT me! OMG, babe! I’m coming! Divine Timing is just being a bitch but I’m on my way to you!🦎Well, the thing is…we both have this annoying thing called a spiritual transformation… Until that’s happened—and nearly completely—we can’t be together just yet. But wait, I promise you it’s all worth it in the end🎁

I mean, why wouldn’t you wait for someone like me? I’m romantic; kind and sweet; I AM RICH; and I will always be there to protect you—I intend to always be your confidant and best friend🥰I will never betray you in any way. I’m your best friend who will skip right next to you on our way to beat up a bitch; figuratively, babe—I’m not really the type of person who gets violent LOL

What I do mean is, I want to give you a Life in which you cease to worry about small things. I want it to be that when you’re with me you no longer worry about a lack of means, a lack of warmth, or a lack of security. You’re somebody who deserves to be loved and to be very happy; and I want to give it all to you. And that’s why it’s important for me to become the best version of myself first😝

I’ve got to admit I’ve not always been the nicest, goodest person to have walked on Earth. I’m changing my ways, you know. I’m growing up; I’m developing; I’ve now been awakened and I’m still working on me, so that when I finally meet you, I will not disappoint you. Because I will never want to be a reason you stopped believing in the good of people😤I intend to be the complete opposite of that.

Fall in love with me, my dear. Fall in love with Life again when you meet me. Life is an adventure and finding me has got to be the greatest story ever told. I’ll tell you all of my crazyass stories when we meet. And I’m longing to hear you talk of your losses and triumphs. We’ll both gaze at the stars and wonder how they aligned to have us meet in this lifetime. I will be so grateful.

You know, generally speaking, I’m somewhat of an extrovert and I socialise well and I think quite positively about people. Maybe you will worry that I’m a playa of sort but right now, let me promise you this one thing: I’M NOT! I’m friendly, my love, but it doesn’t mean I wanna fuck somebody who’s not you. I dunno, I kinda have the handsome face of a smooth operator but on the inside, I’m really NOT!😩I’m really quite romantic and I believe in true love.

And honestly, at this point in my Life, I know you’re out there being all destined for me. You’re all I want. I’m on my way. So don’t you settle for any low-quality slob. Get ready, baby~ KNOCK KNOCK~🪄🚪

A LIFE WITH YOU, MY LOVE🔻❤️

Priestesses of Purity & Divination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Everybody finds Love in the end; you included~

Ace of Cups Rx, 7 of Cups Rx, 4 of Wands

My Dear, I know Life has not treated you too kindly and your heart’s been broken too many times. It’s been pretty much like that for me, too! I’ve lived a very lonesome existence, wondering where my people are. Wondering if I’ll ever find Love in this lifetime. I know now that those whose hearts are tender find it harder to truly connect with someone. We’re not BROKEN! No, we’re not! The ‘problem’ with us is that we crave soul-deep connections~ And damn, that’s rare, indeed🍀

You know what I’m doing right now? I’m single as a pringle. I’m not opening my heart to anybody. My colleagues all think I’m crazy, offbeat, and even difficult, just because I ain’t settling. Tch, I’m the only one noticing all of their subpar relationships, and some of them are not even the slightest bit happy with the partnership they’ve got. I don’t want that. For fuck’s sake I DON’T want that, ever! I’ve always had this strange, inexplicable feeling, that people are supposed to marry whom they love.

I want LOVE. I crave that shit so bad I dunno what I’m gonna do with myself🙈

One thing I know for sure though: if I’m not with you, you who are just like me, everything in the world is pointless. There is only calm in my world when I’m thinking of you. I don’t even know who you are; but I get optimistic every time I indulge in thoughts of finding you. I… fantasise a lot…?🌈Do you ever think about me? Does your heart bloom with a peculiar kind of softness when you touch upon my consciousness?💫

I am out here in this Star System. Dream of me. Want me more. And believe that we can manifest each other through resonance. We are so much closer than you fear us to be, my Dear. You have to believe in me. The Stars have begun to align and Earth’s temperature is nearing just right🍵Our time is here :D When dreams become Reality and all that’s ever been sad turn to glory, what would you do?

I know what you’re gonna do: you’re going to be married to me😝We’re going to start a new chapter of our lives together and be very happy and abundant. I’m gonna help you prove everybody who’s ever hurt you, gaslit you into believing that you’re hard to love very, very wrong😒All of that gas, when I light the match, is gonna burn their entire house down!🔥

OK, I’m a bit crazy, but anyway—

You do know that good people always find Love in the end, right? That’s just how it always is in fairy tales. You know fairy tales are more real than any of Hollywood’s propaganda, right?🐵Right??🙊I love you. I have loved you for what feels like an eternity. Return to me now. Come home to me, my Love. I am You; you are Me. We’re going to turn everything back to balance; we’re gonna create Heaven on Earth; a harmonious Life of you and me; so have faith in us~🎎

A LIFE WITH YOU, MY LOVE🔻💙

Priestesses of Integrity & Solitude

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – You are someone’s Dream Come True; you ever thought about that??

9 of Cups, 2 of Cups, King of Cups

You, are someone’s Wish Fulfilment; you ever thought about that? No, of course not; you only thought about yourself and how lacking you are as a person blablabla😡Don’t you know there’s a little someone walking this Earth who’d be SO glad to have you in their Life? Yup, that someone is ME😏You are a treasure of a gal/boy and if you’ve been surrounded by fools who can’t see that, it’s because you’re meant to travel the world and meet me~!

Have a change of scenery; you aren’t meant to thrive and live and die on the land you were born. When you cross borders and seas and realms, you’ll meet people of other cultures and points of view who are going to be more appreciative of the good you’ve been mocked(?) for🥰I promise you, babe~ You are where you are (or were) only because it was part of your Soul’s contract to learn about contrasts.

When all’s said and done, you’re going to be THE most interesting person anybody could listen to!🍿I, for one, could listen to you aaalll week long if you ever want to HAHAHA

My heart right now is like half-full, babe; I’m still waiting for you to appear in my Life. You probably won’t like hearing this because you’re independent, and you’re strong, and rebellious, but… I want you to be mine!🌹I don’t mean that I wish to suffocate you, no, it’s not like that at all… What I mean is, I wish to be the only one who could make you happy, for that would make me feel special🌞

I know I’m silly, I’m sorry~🥰I want to bring stability and certainty into your Life; that much I can say with clarity, for surely, you and I, we’re going to be pouring into each other’s Cups. We’re gonna be the kind of couple who can read each other’s minds and burst out laughing when we see something only we find funny without even exchanging words😂All of that, because of shared empathy~

Honestly, I couldn't care less for all the treasures in the world; I only want you around. Maybe that makes me a romanticist? Hm, that word doesn’t quite encompass all the feelings I have for you. All the things I wish to share with you. All that I’d do for you. What I know is that this is no mere romance; I LOVE you, you know? It goes so much deeper than that🌊

I’m mature, nurturing and caring. Find me, my Love. I’ll nurse you back to health—spiritually and everythingally; I’ll be the reason your faith in Humanity is restored. Actually, it doesn’t even matter; I just want you to trust in me, see yourself through my eyes, see how wonderful of a being you are. I want you to trust in yourself. You’re so fucking special. You’re MY very special kind of Wish Fulfilment☃️

A LIFE WITH YOU, MY LOVE🔻💗

Priestesses of Love & Healing

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

[lipglossanon]

Gloom

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Serial Killer!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, troubled reader, violent/dark thoughts, flirting, Leon abusing his bartender privileges 😆, for once no smut!

not proofread; this has been languishing in my drafts and I’m tired of looking at it—don’t know if I’ll add to it or not

title from Gloom by Djo

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Clawing anger stirs in your chest, pricking you like the briar bushes outside your granny’s house. It feels like you’ve tumbled face first into the thorny tendrils, pointed tips digging into your skin, blood dripping like sweat across your skin. Shaking off the phantom sensations, you peer back out across the dance floor. 

You smile, pretending to be happy, mask firmly in place. Good people grin and bear it, don’tcha know? Eyes landing on the table full of people you’d rather never see again, almost without conscious thought, makes your skin itch. The feeling of unfairness fizzes in your blood like carbon bubbles. You hate them. Hate these feelings all stirred up like a kicked hornets nest. 

You hope they get hit by a truck, shanked in an alley, acid thrown in their eyes. It’s hateful and spiteful but you can’t stop the thoughts once they start. Maybe they’ll fall down the stairs and break their leg, bleed out a slow death all alone. Or pushed off the roof of a building, not so tall they have a heart attack before splattering across the cement. Maybe they’ll trip holding a pair of scissors, the pointed end puncturing their eye—

“You need another drink?”

The voice pulls you away from staring across the room to the bartender standing behind the counter. 

“No,” you shake your head, eyes dropping to your glass, water still near the rim. 

“You seem a bit perturbed,” he offers, propping his hip against the drink station, arms crossing and showcasing his thick biceps.

“It’s nothing,” your airy response only makes his eyebrows raise in amusement.

“I’m sure that group over at the table would love to hear how they’re nothing,” he grins when you glare at him.

“What do you care..” your eyes glance at his name tag, “Leon?”

“I don’t,” he shrugs easily, “but you do and I hate to see a pretty lady in distress.”

You snort, eyes rolling, “I’ll bet you say that to anyone with tits.”

His grin widens, “True, but I always mean what I say.”

Someone on the other end flags his attention and Leon leaves you to your intrusive thoughts and untouched water. Your lip curls in a sneer as someone gets up from the table he mentioned and walks over to the bar. They flirt with Leon who you notice gives you a quick side eye before making a round of drinks. 

Once he’s finished up, he walks back over to you with a smarmy little swagger. 

“Miss me?” 

You shake your head, gaze still zeroed in on the bitch taking the handful of drinks he just made back to the table. More people come up to the bar and Leon slips away, busy for several long minutes. While he’s mixing whatever cocktail an older lady and her friend ordered, your eyes widen in surprise to see a few people at that specific table suddenly make their departure towards the restroom. 

“It didn’t kick in as fast as I thought,” Leon muses next to you— a little put upon sigh slipping out for good measure, “they’ll definitely be calling it a night once they’re not puking their guts out.”

Delightful vindictiveness makes you smile broadly at him; it must surprise him because he only looks at you stupidly as you thank him. 

“Didn’t I tell you I hate seeing a pretty lady in distress,” he recovers quickly enough, a pleased smile making him seem boyish and sweet, “besides they seem like stuck up cunts. And not the fun kind.”

You watch with a sort of childlike awe as he goes about the rest of his shift, chatting up customers and making drinks. The table of cunts, as he so politely put, cleared out once the others returned looking sick. 

“I’m off work in ten minutes,” he appears next to you, making you jump. 

“And?”

He drums his fingers on the side of your glass, “Might wanna get your last call in before I walk you home for the night.”

He slips away before you can argue and ten minutes later, he’s helping you with your coat and holding open the door. Once you’re a comfortable distance away from the bar, you turn to him. 

“What did you use?”

“Ah,” he taps the side of his nose with a grin, “that would be telling.”

Your eyes narrow and he laughs. 

“Just a little something I like to keep on me,” he ducks to the side to whisper in your ear, “it’s not the worst thing I’ve used on someone.”

He pulls away, looking pleased as punch, and it makes your heart flutter in excitement. 

“Thanks,” you offer, looking back to the sidewalk in front of you, “it was nice.”

“Oh my absolute pleasure,” he sighs happily, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, “do they come in every week?”

“Yes,” you bite your lip in thought, “usually at the same time.”

“Shall I give them something a bit stronger then?” He murmurs quietly, eyes glittering when you pause to look back at him. 

“There’s something wrong with me.”

You didn’t mean to blurt that out, but it is what it is; he shrugs, total nonchalance, that makes you frown. 

“I want them to hurt. I want them to feel awful. I wouldn’t mind if they died.”

His smile’s a sharp brittle knife, “I can help with that last one.”

Your heart flutters again, and you twist to face him fully. 

“You mean that?” Your eyes stare into his calm blue gaze, “you don’t even know me.”

“Does it matter?” He grins playfully, “besides you seem like the kind of girl who would appreciate it.”

Those intrusive thoughts come back, flashing the various ways you’ve pictured those same people being hurt. Your hands reach up to curl your fingers in the collar of his jacket.

“Do you want help?”

He laughs delightedly, his own hands gripping your hips before sliding up to pet your ribs. He slides your noses together, before hovering his lips over your mouth. 

“How do you want to help me, sweetheart?”