#when all they do is plan the others demise

[piescornerstore]

*points at pink addison and spamton* now FIGHT‼

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ THIS IS A LIFE, PART ONE !

summary :: in every universe, spiderman will inevitably lose the one thing that matters most to him: y/n l/n. miguel o'hara, peter parker, and hobie brown have all suffered through this story. they soon discover another version of you is alive, bound to fall in love with miles morales and to die abruptly. with the prospect of a second chance and a newfound obsession, these four men will do anything to keep you at their side.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 7.5k

content warnings :: yandere!miguel, yandere!miles, yandere!noir, yandere!hobie, reader death, gore/violence, murder, electrocution, fire, guns, alcohol, cigarettes, suicidal tendencies, kidnapping, stalking, physical restraint, child abuse/neglect, allusions to a child's death, physically abusive ex-boyfriend, infidelity, & torture.

──── October 17th, 2099 — Miguel O'Hara remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. August 24th, 1934 — Peter Parker remembers the day the same way he will never forget you. July 3rd, 2020 — Hobie Brown remembers the day the same way he will never forget you.

Y/N L/N. Miguel O'Hara, Peter Parker, and Hobie Brown will never forget them the same way they will never forget how it felt to lose them.

The inevitable fate of your demise is a cannon event for all spider-people. To love this person with every shred of their being only to live the rest of their lives without them; to love this person with all the might their body can contain only to let go of their hand in the end. It crushes their soul. Countless people are forced to live with the consequences of being bitten by a spider, not one had suspected it would be so detrimental.

Not when it is your life that has been taken.

Written in the stars is this destiny. How they will never love another again, but vow to be a hero and refrain a similar fate from falling onto anyone else. Many have been able to crawl out of the bottomless pit that is grief, but others have succumbed to the unforgiving anguish and let their life escape them. Just the way yours had. After all, what is life if you are not present? What is the point of living if there is no one there to patch up their scars and praise them for their heroic acts? There is no point, which leaves these three particular spider-people here. Their body is stuck in the past, reliving each moment with you up until they lost you forever.

October 17th, 2099. It was all his fault. Maybe if he hadn't let his violent tendencies toward anyone who isn't you slip through the seams, maybe if he had been more persistent in his reminders of how loved you are. Maybe if he had tried harder, Miguel O'Hara would still have you here at his side.

Miguel's attempts to make this sudden transition in your life as easy as possible turned out to be disastrous. He is not stupid; he knows this upbringing into this new lifestyle you claim to be "kidnapping" was blunt. He knew this, yet still, his plans on easing you through this change had collapsed right before him. Time had passed, and he naively assumed your fear had depleted, far too caught up in the sheer delight that came from holding you in his arms. Days and nights spent trailing his fingers down the expanse of your skin and kissing away the bruises his fangs had left upon your lips. This is a dream, Miguel always catches himself thinking.

And his sweet daughter, Gabriella. How she adored you so much. Even more so than her own father, he often joked. Coming home to find you both brushing the hair of her numerous dolls, baking treats that were rich with far too much sugar, or fast asleep on the couch while some whiny kids show plays on the television. His heart hammers like a fluttering hummingbird at the sight of you so soft and calm with his daughter. However, your guard then builds itself back up, brick-by-brick, faster than a gust of wind when he makes his presence known. In a way, Miguel found himself... jealous of Gabriella. That gentle and loving nature of yours, why couldn't he have it for himself? Why couldn't you give him some of that attention, even just a blink? What could that crybaby brat possibly have done to deserve such an amazing thing!?

No matter what kind of thoughts suffocate his mind, Miguel always tried to keep himself composed in front of you. With his tall, muscular physique, it makes sense why you are so intimidated by his appearance. If he were to ever let this satiating envy bleed through the bandaids, however, you'd certainly never open your heart to him. The prospect alone makes his chest tighten with dread.

And he had been so negligent towards his daughter, it only makes sense why she would turn to you. With how breathtaking, elegant, brilliant, electrifying you are, Miguel can understand why she loves you so much. Still, this does not refrain him from tightening his jaw whenever his daughter does something as trivial as hug you. That should be me with Y/N. Let me hold them, let me hold them, let me hold them like that.

It's his fault he had so frivolously expressed his envy through sharp gazes, a towering frame, and muffled shouts through the thin walls. It's his fault he never assured you these ugly emotions were never your fault, since you could never do any wrong in his eyes, after all. It's his fault he didn't drown you in even more heaps of affection, to further remind you of just how much he needs you.

It is his fault you are dead.

Overcome with drowsiness, Miguel heedlessly packs his daughters lunch for school that day. Despite how you are usually the one who does this task, since you have always adored looking after the little one, you needed your rest. And he was insistent on treating you with even more intensive care, all to prove that he is the right one for you. No one else. Meanwhile, Gabriella sits at the kitchen table with her backpack on, swinging her short legs back and forth. She is bright with full energy that contradicts her father's state in a comical manner.

"Y/N/N always cuts my food into cool shapes! Yesterday, they made my sandwich star-shaped!" Gabriella exclaims to her father with admiration.

The mere mention of your name from someone else makes Miguel freeze. A sudden surge of anger wraps around his lungs like a sheen layer of morning dew resting on Spring grass. You treat her with such attentive care, why can't he get any of that? What is so special about her that he doesn't have? What does he need to change about himself in order to get you to love him the way you so fatuously love her? Miguel casts his gaze across the counter and finds several bottles of cleaning products you must have forgotten to put away. So endearing, so adorable. An idea then sparks. While Gabriella continues to babble about how cool and amazing you are, Miguel finds himself considering something he will never be able to take back.

Just a dash of some drain cleaner in her sandwich and this problem will fade away.

"Y/N/N!" The sound of your nickname shouts through the air upon your arrival. Gabriella is more than elated to greet you, but your eyes remain locked on Miguel. In other circumstances, he'd be thanking the heavens above for this bit of attention you have given him. At this moment, however, there is a disturbed gleam of horror in your expression that makes his stomach twist with apprehension.

The energy is not directed towards Gabriella, as you caress her cheek and gift her that smile of yours that rivals sunlight. Miguel inadvertently rolls his eyes at the sight, envious as ever. As she continues to ramble to you about her success at a recent soccer game, you retrieve all the cleaning products and return them to their respective place underneath the sink. Not without shooting a burning glare at Miguel, however. Had he made his intentions that obvious? You wave him aside from his stance at the pink, glittery lunchbox and he obeys. Pretending to finish up his original efforts, you examine every snack inside for anything this crazed man may have tampered with.

"Good morning, button..." The nervous tremble in Miguel's voice doesn't tarnish the sheer adoration that seeps from his tone.

Your short response of "'morning" could barely be heard over the thunderous sound of his heart shattering. Yet again, you have broken his heart. And still, he will crawl back to you every time, aching for any inkling of your regard. Soon, you're saying your goodbyes to Gabriella and wishing her a wonderful day at school. Planting a quick peck to her cheek, Miguel's talons grow and dig crevices into the steering wheel while he waits for his daughter to join him in the vehicle. Oh, if only you could give him the same act of affection, he would never ask the universe for anything ever again.

And if only he had known how the rest of the morning would play out, he never would have left the house.

When Miguel finally pulls out of the driveway, giving you a quick wave that is not reciprocated, you let your guard down. You almost watched this man murder his daughter. Tears begin to form in your eyes as the revelation simmers like boiling water. With more time here, who knows what lengths he'll travel to?

Fortunately for you, with how occupied he was with his daughter and his own inner turmoil, he had entirely forgotten to lock the door to his office. The one place neither you nor his daughter were allowed to venture into. You were unaware of what is within the room or how anything inside could aid you in your attempts to escape. What you were aware of, however, is how paranoid he was in his efforts to keep you out of there. Peeling back the curtain and taking a fearful glance out the window, just to ensure this psychopath who claimed to be your soulmate wasn't lurking, you embark on your journey into uncharted territory.

Miguel had mentioned several times in his late-night talks with you about his job at Alchemax. His boring explanations about the technology he was working on there did wonders in lulling you to sleep. Now, seeing the scatterings of machinery that littered the room made you gasp from their futuristic appearance. One contraption had caught your attention, however. It seemed to be a current project, evident in the numerous tools and papers inked with equations littered around. Upon stepping closer to the contraption, a holographic screen sputters to life. You find several distorted, glitching files that all attain to you in some shape or form. Y/N's wish list, Y/N's checking account, and Y/N's security camera footage. Curiosity does spark, but with how swiftly Miguel is able to drop his daughter off and speed home to return to you, the time you had was not versatile.

If I can piece together how this gadget works, I may be able to call for help and get Gabriella and I as far away from this man as possible, you think to yourself.

The machine continues to stammer pathetically as if it were desperately chasing its own life. Trying to peruse through the technology to find anything useful, its poor performance prevented you from any fruition. In a fit of frustration, you pull your hand back and deliver a harsh smack! to the side of the machine. With how little time you have, you can feel your opportunity for freedom begin to fade away with every glitch that erupts. With one final, violent slam to the machinery, the metal borders protecting the numerous open wires inside fall, and a sudden wave of electricity surges through you. Your entire body goes rigid before you splat harshly against the ground. You are now left entirely lifeless, except for the electric shocks that cause your stiff form to twitch in response.

With that, your life was over. October 17th, 2099 — the day Miguel O'Hara inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

August 24th, 1934. It was all his fault. Maybe if he had stayed with you more and neglected the city, maybe if he hadn't been so careless with expressing his love for you. Maybe if he had tried harder, Peter Parker would still have you here at his side.

Peter, too, attempted vigorously to make your transition to this new life with him as smooth as possible. At the very beginning of this new adjustment, hope had still plagued your mind. As days turned into weeks, soon months, the forest fire that was your persistence had slowly been snuffed out like an old candle. Now, all you can do is sit at the window seat of his apartment and just pray that someone will recognize your face. From the numerous missing persons' posters that were now left behind in dumpsters and rain puddles, you could feel your luck grow thin. Everyday looked like this, all with this lovesick maniac at your beck-and-call, deluded enough to believe this fantasy of being your doting partner to be reality. The amount of egg-creams you've drank is bound to make you vomit at some point.

At the end of the day, you had gotten what you had wished for. You were once a journalist, putting all your time into unmasking the famous Spiderman. The truth of his identity was now in the palm of your hands. However, there were far more consequences to this wish than you had originally anticipated. And Peter is overcome with guilt when he thinks back to how disastrous his efforts to give you his heart turned out.

It's his fault he had so carelessly exposed his acts of heroism through the stench of gunpowder and chunks of blood beneath his fingernails. It's his fault he didn't spend more time showering you in the affection you truly deserved. It's his fault he never assured you the inevitable fate of the bastards that hurt you was never your fault, just so you can realize that everything he does, no matter how calamitous, was all for your benefit.

It is his fault you are dead.

Slow dancing with you in the gentle haze of the moonlight peaking through the window, swaying along to some romantic melody echoing from the saloon across the street, amorous words that you'd hear from the lips of a poet whispered into your ear — this is where heaven is. This is all that he has ever dreamed of; this is all he has ever wanted for the two of you. This is what makes him happy.

"My heart is bleeding in your hands, dollface. It's all yours, I'm all yours." Peter's breath tickles your neck, the infatuation-stained harangue finally coming to an end as he continues to sway you along to the harmonies outside.

You often joke to yourself that you could stab Peter in the heart, give him even just a sliver of the turmoil he has forced into your life, and he would still give you a smile with blood painting his teeth and that revolting gleam of pure, unadulterated devotion in his eyes. With this devotion, however, comes dark, dark side effects. This was not a surprise to you, considering how you've been locked up like a bad dog for these past several months. Still, when you inhale and the sharp odor of iron poorly masked with bleach overwhelms your senses, you find yourself taken aback.

The clamoring sound of the bolts to your prison cell your captor claims to be your love den being unlocked brings you out of your thoughts. When the door opens and Peter walks in, all you see is a euphoric, hopelessly-besotted partner. With the sudden stench that is still heavy in the air, however, you feel a new, sudden sense of dread with his presence. He is elated to see you, as he always is. An impassioned kiss to your lips and an ardent compliment are essential to your everyday encounter with the man you thought once to be a superhero. Sometimes, a gift of fresh, blood-red roses may accompany him in his attempts to woo you further, as well.

Through the whiff of cigarettes sitting on his trench coat when he envelops you in a much-needed embrace after his long day of work, you sense something else. The tang you had inhaled from outside the bedroom is now stuck to his form, nestled beneath the aroma of late-night brume and smoke. You force a gag down your throat and reciprocate the affection, trying to push your suspicions to the back burner in your mind. The rest of the evening is like any other: listening to some tunes from the radio as the two of you play a card game, all that Peter deems as a "romantic date". Your winning strike against him (he always lets you win, but he won't tell you this) falters when your brain can't help but wonder what he was so occupied with outside that door.

As devastating and exhausting as the truth is, coming to terms with reality is the only chance you have of returning to the life you once had. Hoping he'll wake from his delusions and let you off your leash is nothing more than a pipe dream, you realize. If you want freedom, you'll have to take it by the neck and claim it as yours. So, as the hours of the night fade into dawn, you conjure a plan in your head while the man beside you snores in a deep slumber (not without a few sleepy mumbles of flattery for you, though).

The scheme you had so flawlessly crafted was quick, simple, and easy. You would do something you have never done before: initiate affection with Peter.

This was your ploy: fulfill all the fantasies his lovesick brain was infested with and watch with a newfound sense of hope as he forgets to lock the door, too dazed from the pleasure your sweet attitude had brought him. And it worked marvelously. Not only did this man forget to lock the bedroom door, he had entirely forgotten to lock the front door of the apartment altogether. The prospect of this mistake being a test of your loyalty lingers, but when you watch through the window as he swings away from building to building, you let out a roar of laughter.

After your fit of hysterics, a smile sits on your face as you tread to the front door. Something stops you in your tracks when your hand hovers over the doorknob. When you leave, you will have nothing but months of memories to defend yourself with. Who are the authorities going to believe — you, a mischievous journalist, prone to bending the rules for a good headline, or Peter, the famous superhero, notorious for his restless efforts to save the city? Despite the freedom you have dreamed of being right in your palms, you step away from the door. Instead, you look around for any evidence deemed beneficial. Whatever can put him under the negative limelight is satisfactory to you.

No stone was left unturned in the apartment, all besides a single door at the end of a long corridor. The night before, Peter had been so frantic with his time inside (all in order to get back to you sooner) that he was sloppy with his efforts in cleaning his mess. The spilled bleach he had accidentally knocked over was still lying in a puddle; the nauseating scent of fresh blood still satiated through the air like a fragrance. And lastly, the latch on the door had been left unlocked.

Without so much as a second thought, you enter the room and let your curious eyes soak in the sheer horror that resides within.

A metal chair rests in the middle of the room, leather straps tightened around a body that sits motionless. Two tables are located on the sides of the room where all sorts of gut-wrenching tools reside. And there is blood everywhere. What was once a second bedroom for buyers of the apartment has now been morphed into a torture chamber of sorts.

The person restrained in the chair, you weren't sure if they were even alive. Everything is drowned in so much heaps of red, attempting to use your mere first-aid knowledge is impossible. What is most perceptible, however, is the way their eye had been forcefully torn from its socket. It resembles a runny egg how it causes bodily fluids to cascade down their face. The amount of flesh on their body that had been torn asunder, the gag in their mouth that was oozing with tears and saliva, the gushing blood that continues to hastily seep from infected wounds. Everything makes your eyes blur and your stomach churn with nauseau.

With the career you once had as a journalist, you've seen some disgusting sights. Sneaking onto crime scenes from a brawly saloon fight gone too far or snapping pictures of the result of Spiderman's "heroic" acts to save citizens, you've become desensitized to gory scenes. But, this. This wasn't like anything you have ever seen.

"Y/N?" You hadn't realized how deafening the silence was until the poor victim is able to speak out.

With one eye practically staring daggers into you, the revelation hits you like a train. That voice, that eye. This is no other than the man you had called your boyfriend before this mess had snuck into your life. Or, ex-boyfriend, as you'd prefer to refer to him as. The status of your relationship was left a mystery after the night he had come to your home drunk and reeking of someone's perfume. Your insistent demands for him to sober up and inform you of his recent whereabouts earned you a harsh slap across the face. With a loud shout of how much of a “shitty partner” and "piece of cityside trash" you are, the person you thought to be the love of your life storms out of your home. Never to be seen again.

Hastily, you unclasp the restraints that left his skin numb and bruised. With how malnourished he had become from his time spent here, it was fairly easy to support his weight. You swing his battered arm around your shoulder and help him stand on his emaciated legs. After only two steps, he pushes you off of him harshly with what little strength his body was able to garner. His attempts served well, as you feel your stomach hit a table adorned with blood-stained utensils that make you sick to imagine how they were used.

"You... How could you...?" As his weak voice fills the air, you feel your stomach fold into itself. Does he think you did this?

Opening your mouth to begin stammering your way through what you intended to be a thorough explanation, a loud bang! then pervades the air. Without a second to process his actions, the man grasped the pistol left on the table and pulled the trigger. A stream of smoke now stems from the barrel. The betrayal, the aversion, and the debility in his expression tell you everything you need to know. You were so close to the finish line that would grant you freedom, but when you shift your gaze down, you're devastated to find a bullet hole protruding through your chest. You then slump to the ground and your killer falls not long after you, the act of merely standing too much for his abused body.

With that, your life was over. August 24th, 1934 — the day Peter Parker inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

July 3rd, 2020. It was all his fault. Maybe if he had been more attentive to your safety, maybe if he hadn't exposed how soul-crushing the love he has for you is. Maybe if he had tried harder, Hobie Brown would still have you here at his side.

As opposed to the others, Hobie did little to ease you into this new life with him. The transition was curt, violent. With you as a bartender, drunken customers are most certainly not a rare sight. However, when you rejected a man who had one too many drinks and he reacted with violence, it caught you off-guard. And Hobie, the lead singer of the band that consistently played at your bar, had become blind with rage. Through the mess of the blood on your head when the beer bottle shattered against you and the apple-red matter staining Hobie's guitar as he smashes it relentlessly into the man's skull, these events somehow landed you where you are now.

An abandoned building on the outskirts of town, that's where you had woken up. The debris around the room was masked with string lights and band posters adorning the walls, as well as a rickety bed frame scarcely supporting a lone mattress. With bleary vision and an even fuzzier head, you gain consciousness abruptly. You find yourself on the bed with thick, itchy blankets draped around you, clothes that certainly do not belong to you on your body, and spiky belts used to restrain your limbs. Barbed wires and decaying planks of wood board the windows; the lack of passing cars and loud pedestrians outside cause you to worry about how far you are from the lively city you called home.

A lanky figure makes their presence known, dressed in those all-too-familiar garbs. Spider-Punk, the man you'd always see performing at your penurious bar, despite how widespread their band was. Much to your shock, his large hand finds the trim of his mask before tearing the garment off. Beneath is a gorgeous face embellished with piercings and a wild head full of hair. Large, wet eyes overwhelm you. And there is only one discernible trait you could read clearly through his expression: desire.

The way your plump body pools from the hems of the small clothing he dressed you in from his closet, fuck. Hobie has thought of this moment plenty of times — finally being able to take you away, just the two of you. He swore up and down he'd keep his fervid cravings at bay. But, when you're truly here in front of him, looking like that. He has to dig his long nails into his palms to physically restrain himself from lunging for you like a feral animal in heat. God, you look too fucking good.

From here on out, the relationship you have with Hobie sprouted into something only you would call treacherous, something only he would call rapturous. Being trapped within the small expanse of this grimy room, your new life has shown how perceptibly different your reactions are from one another. You are entirely dumbfounded at these new circumstances you've been forcefully thrust into. Meanwhile, Hobie attempts to put space between you both to avoid giving into his irresistible hunger. Though, it doesn't take a genius to notice how his hands always find their way to your naked skin and how his eyes linger on the intimate parts of your body. And it most certainly doesn't take a genius to notice the sheer terror and confusion stuck to your expression.

The discomfort the residence brings does little to ease you, as well. How your body is restricted against the firm mattress has your limbs aching with cramps. Your neck throbs from no support, considering the lack of pillows. But, Hobie always remarked that his chest is more comfortable to lay on, anyway. His clothing reeks of alcohol from the numerous bars and parties he’s attended, but also from the expensive perfumes, lotions, as well as the skin and hair products he received from his time being a runway model. The scent now clinging to your skin fails to bring you any of the tranquility he wished you would feel. Meals shared between you two were often dowsed in grease and cheap in flavor. Your captor never put much effort into making your dinnertime together anything reminiscent of a romantic date in Italy or something along those themes. He would much rather eat something else for dinner, after all.

This is what life looked like for the next several months. Records spinning and filling the air with headache-inducing songs he says he had written about you; Polaroid pictures scattered around the room that display different variations of the same scene: you sitting pretty with Hobie's hands and lips all over you. Never, never, has this man ever felt so much bliss in his entire life. He has always preached about how the idea of "love" is nothing more than propaganda meant to earn greedy, capitalistic companies more money with their cheesy movies and Valentine's Day garbage. When you entered his life in all your glory, however, he was ashamed to put his pride aside and admit those irritating pop songs may have been correct.

"I don’t need nothin’ else. 'Long as I have you here, birdie." He fidgets with the necklace he had given you that was currently draped upon your neck. His lucky guitar chip is swung upon the chain, since it always belonged to you, anyway. You will always be his muse.

With how carelessly he let himself be swathed in the warm blankets of love, how carelessly Hobie had let you slip from his fingertips.

It's his fault he had so frivolously expressed his protective nature through blood-stained bar floors and constricting arms encompassing your body. It's his fault he never assured you these conflicts weren’t your fault, it was only the monsters outside who wished to separate true love. It's his fault he had disciplined himself so heavily for his big heart, fearful of losing self-control with the love of his life.

It is his fault you are dead.

You regret not tallying the days you've spent locked up in this birdcage. Carving lines into the deteriorating walls to represent the slashes this new life has left in your sanity. It feels as if lifetimes have tread by you, the same day repeating itself like your own personal nightmare. Mere months have gone by and unbeknownst to you, the sweet escape you so despairingly crave is sitting upon the horizon. The circumstances of your freedom were the absolute last thing you had wished for, however.

Hobie’s history of being a heartthrob and heartbreaker were no secret to you, but his newfound loyalty to the innocent person he had taken from their previous life was even more evident. All the possessive, delusional fans that were convinced they'd marry their favorite singer, it was just so easy for Hobie to indulge in some casual fun before leaving them behind in his dust. As the story of all Spider-People goes, however, Y/N L/N is the tool that throws this man into a whirlpool of enamoring disarray. Embracing this newfound happiness was exhilarating for him, but Hobie was so dazed from it, he never had thought that karma would slither itself between you two.

A certain groupie, wholly convinced she and Spider-Punk are soulmates, was devastated to see how carelessly the love of her life abandoned her. Her mind had sprinted to all sorts of gut-wrenching conclusions. Am I not enough? Is he moving on? Is there someone else? Her worst nightmare materializes into reality when she stalks behind his tall figure and follows him to a building one late night, an odd pep in his step as he enters. What she assumes is just another exclusive club location with more taboo forms of partying, she is left stunned when she catches sight of what sights lie within.

The man of her dreams is found in the depths of infidelity. Through the crack of a rickety door coated with locks, there he was. Chest pressed against the back of someone else, who was sound asleep beneath an array of blankets like a baby in a crib. With his arms locked around them like a lifeline, Spider-Punk presses long, intimate kisses to their face. The words she had begged to hear from him, he was so frivolously drowning this stranger in such, despite their unconscious state. Every syllable was dripping with lust and smitten-induced hysteria. Tears brim in her eyes from how desperately she covets to be you in this moment.

With a shattered heart and a festering rage, she comes to the conclusion of what she must do. She will take him back, no matter what it takes.

Rarely did Hobie ever leave the expanse of your room, he wanted to stay with you forever. When he did, however, it was for some quick cash at yet another gig he and his bandmates had landed. Singing his lungs out, knowing every lyric revolves around the one waiting for him back home — you have brought him ecstasy he still cannot fathom the sheer weight of. A Friday night like no other, Hobie would spend the evening beneath the blinding spotlights, drinking the hours away, before returning home and cuddling with the only reason he chooses to live.

Through the barricaded windows and doors, a sudden stench of what appears to be smoke invades your senses. A big city like this, something along these lines is nothing out of the ordinary. After all, you were so thrilled to finally be granted a night to yourself, anything that would jeopardize this gift from the universe is seen as insignificant. When the heavy smell becomes more perceptible and the unmistakable sound of fire cracking gets louder, you feel dread tickle down your spine. The fear settles into your bones before you can think of a logical way to escape. Hobie did everything to ensure you wouldn’t leave his side, after all.

Air soon becomes precious, your lungs begin to squeeze, your skin is burning with scorching pain. It brings you the hell you had carelessly thought you felt before. A final cry of help into the suffocating air and you feel your life begin to fade. Meanwhile, the lost groupie stands near the entrance, holding back a satisfied smile. An onslaught of concerned pedestrians and firefighters accompany her. And Hobie was still far away, alcohol heavy in his system and the joy of returning to you seeping through his body like a drug. So blissfully unaware of what awaits him when he comes back to the place he had called home only with you.

With that, your life was over. July 3rd, 2020 — the day Hobie Brown inevitably lost the only thing that ever mattered to him.

The effects your departure has left on these men are all nothing short of disastrous. No longer do they have the vibrant, loving souls they once held. Day by day, they are dragging the dead carcass that is their own body, suffering through every second and hoping it will be their last. The paths your death have led these three are unique from one another, but they all find themselves in one specific space. Spider-HQ, within Nueva York on Earth-928. The story the multiverse has written for them had so selfishly taken their happiness away from them. Taking the pen for themselves and creating the most beautiful fairytale where you are alive and back in their embrace is the only purpose they now have.

Now, Miguel O'Hara stands at the office he earned from becoming the leader of this society. Upon the various monitors displayed around him are scenes taken from numerous different universes. Lethargy sits like bags of bricks beneath his eyes, slowly blinking as he ensures no minor mistake is present. If the multiverse were to crumble, his sole objection to save the only important person in Spiderman's life will fall with it. When he verifies all is well on Earth-1610, something perceptible then catches his gaze and he does a double-take. Any sign of fatigue within him is snatched out of his body, leaving him more awake than ever before.

Within this universe, Miguel finds you.

Before, these universes have only displayed the effects your death has left on all the spider-people. Today, however, is the first time he has seen you alive since the day he lost you. Lyla snickers and accuses him of having a cute, teenage-like crush when she takes notice of the sheer captivation in his expression. Little does she know how much history lies in your mere face. It is heart-crushing, how much the simple sight of you enjoying a cup of coffee (with one too many sugars, as he knows you've always preferred) has such catastrophic effects on him.

Piles of schoolwork are scattered around your desk, covered in information adhering to your current college major. Even with your lack of sleep, school-induced annoyance, and general exhaustion over everything in your life, Miguel has never seen something quite as breathtaking as you in this moment. An epiphany sprouts in his brain as quickly as the sight of you caused his soul to blossom, just like it did all those years ago.

Maybe he can stop it. Maybe he can get you back.

Your death is inevitable, and even though Miguel was aware of this, dread still pervades his stomach at the prospect and churns with his breakfast. What really makes him shudder is when he reads through the cannon events assigned to you. A flare of jealousy ignites within him when he finds an unfamiliar name in the midst of your story.

Miles Morales, the Spiderman you are meant to fall in love with. What good is he? He's just some stupid kid, what more could he possibly do that Miguel can't? Why would you choose this loser when he can give you everything you have ever wanted!? In a sudden fit of rage, he grasps hold of whatever matter was closest to him and uses all the strength within his muscular arms to hurl it across the room. His chest heaves with infuriated huffs; his claws slice into the meat of his palms. He is enraged, yes, but he is mostly devastated that the beautiful face on his screen will soon meet their inescapable demise.

Not only will he do everything in his power to stop your death, but Miguel also vows to put his blood, sweat, and tears into ensuring you do not fall for this boy. Additionally, he will formulate a plan to bring you back into his arms without destroying the multiverse as a whole. With that being said, this does not change how reality on Earth-1610 continues to play out in front of him. It’s like a television show; a show he'd give a 1-star rating out of sheer pettiness.

In his last year of high school, Miles Morales' life was thrown into a tornado when his parents enrolled him in a new school to finish his last semester. And the 18-year-old boy absolutely dreaded this. New people, new location, new clothes that poke and jut at his skin uncomfortably. With the hefty responsibility of being Brooklyn's sole hero and hiding this truth from his loved ones, this sudden alteration in his environment does not relieve any stress. Swiftly, Miles conjures a plan to convince his parents to send him back to the way his life once was. Slack off, play dumb, and bring home report cards that are absolutely atrocious and his parents will have no choice but to give their son what he wants.

However, this is not what happened. Much to Miles' dismay, the grand idea his parents had was to not let him continue his education comfortably. Instead, they hired a tutor to aid him through his final months of high school.

Rio and Jeff had invited this tutor for dinner at their home, which Miles had flaked on entirely. Mostly due to his duty as Spiderman, but partially from how sour he was about the state of affairs. When he returned home, their anger was practically palpable. However, this disappointment soon shifted into a long, insufferable tangent about how marvelously smart, mannerly, and kind this tutor was and how embarrassed they were because of him. That Saturday, he was expected to join this tutor in the school's library or his parents may consider grounding him once again. Miles has to refrain from rolling his eyes at their never-ending lecture.

March 11th, 2023. It will be all his fault. This day is the day Miles Morales will inevitably meet the only thing that will ever matter to him.

To earn some extra support through your time in college, you had decided to take up tutoring in your free time. The myriad of students you had met all possessed the same attitude — the kind of attitude you'd expect from teenagers whose parents forced them to do schoolwork in their free time. Miles fit this category well, at first. And how your situation developed, it was oddly refreshing to finally meet someone who isn't repudiating every second with you.

15 minutes late, open backpack spilling with paper, tie loose around his neck, the student most certainly made his presence known when he stumbled into the silent library. Attempting to fix his untied shoelaces, you rush over to help him and save him from any further embarrassment he was already enduring. You are able to catch the folder that had tumbled out of his bag before it hit the ground, to where he mumbles a quick "thanks" in response. His gaze is still locked to the strings of his shoes he was attempting to tie together as swiftly as possible. Nearly tripping, Miles makes it to the table you had once organized thoroughly, but was now cluttered with everything this boy had thrown onto the surface.

Oblivious to you, the boy whose parents described as having a "heart of gold," was doing everything in his power to appear as rude and ill-mannered as possible. Deliberately arriving late, making a fool of the two of you, messing up the neat array of lesson plans and pencils you arranged. Anything to convince his parents to send him away from the nightmare that is this school. This plan of his was seized from his mind like a rug pulled out beneath his feet when he finally turns his shoulder and shifts his attention to you. What Miles expected would be the slowest, drawn-out hour he's ever experienced would actually be the most exciting, life-beaming 60 minutes he’s ever experienced.

Your voice sounds like honey as you introduce yourself to him. And that heart-stuttering smile of yours works wonders on him. Miles had already known your name, but hearing it from your mouth made him think he was listening to a symphony of angels. Since the last few stages of high school are stressful for everyone, you decided to cut him some slack and offer a kind hand for him to shake. All thoughts of his old school and the comfort it brought are all eradicated as he stares into your soul with those wide, bambi-brown eyes. After months in this new environment, you must be a gift the universe sent to compensate for all the misery he has endured. And fervently, Miles accepts you as the best gift he has ever received.

"I'm Spiderman." His mouth moves before his brain can compute. Your brows furrow in response, scrutinizing the confession for some sort of punchline.

“I mean- shit, uh… I mean, I’m Miles... You-You know, like- kilometers, yards, feet. Except, it's Miles this time... Y-... Y'know?"

His relentless stammering to try and prove himself worthy of your time while also acknowledging he accidentally told you his deepest secret earns him a quick giggle. And the sound bouncing from your lips is nothing short of paradisiacal, especially when he is the cause. A sudden wave of silence then rests between you both. You, laughing nervously to lighten the awkward tension. Miles, entirely flabbergasted at how he could have ever wanted to miss out on something as profoundly magnificent as this. His mind runs rampant while his wide eyes remain locked on your averting ones. Do it, do it, do it. Just do it already, Miles!

He pulls his hands up, your eyebrows furrowing once more trying to consider his intentions. He then lands his touch upon your shoulder.

"Hey..." Miles' voice drops several octaves, a fiddly excuse of a smirk forms on his lips, and he squints his twitching eyes that still hold the same crazed wonder they've had since they first landed on you.

"Hi...?" Your response expresses nothing but sheer confusion, not your face burning from the attention like Miles had initially strived for.

Wrapping your hand around his, your mere physical touch sends flares of electricity down his skin. Goosebumps bloom across his arms and his entire body halts in place, tense with shock and nerves. In an attempt to forcefully remove his hold on you, you're startled to find how he is now stuck to your hand. As if he had lathered his hand in heaps of glue before touching you, the efforts you took to get this boy off of you only resulted in your skin painfully stretching.

So enveloped in the way his heart lurches from holding your hand, a sudden, hushed whimper of "you're hurting me!" and Miles feels a gasp involuntarily escape his throat. Attempting to pull away from you, as much as he wishes not to, only intensifies your pain. What had Peter told him to do when this happened? Oh yeah, just relax! But, how on Earth can he possibly relax when your hand is in his!? 

People are staring, exclaiming in annoyed distress over their interrupted study time. You're trying to piece together how Miles had managed to cement his hand to yours and why he refuses to let go of you. Meanwhile, Miles is apologizing profusely for inadvertently harming you, while also soaking in how rhapsodic it is to have your hand in his. He knows he has fully fallen into oblivion when the prospect of letting go of you hurts him more than the relentless pull and twist of his flesh.

So much for first impressions, right?

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

❝ MANY LIVES THAT COULD HAVE

BEEN ENTANGLED FOR ETERNITY . . . ❞

gif credits :: miguel, miles, peter, & hobie.

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[another-lost-mc]

Soo like would the demon brothers including the other demon characters kill for mc? 👻

It's not a question of will they kill for you, but rather, who do they have to kill? Because of course they would.

If it's some nobody lesser demon, chances are they can do the deed and get away with it without anyone knowing (or caring) about it after. Higher-ranking demons within the nobility are more of a challenge - the social and personal consequences are much higher, assuming the original offense is a minor infraction and not something that would warrant a formal punishment of the court. If it's something serious, it's better to let Diavolo take care of it (and trust when he says that he will).

Angels are tricky to deal with. Outright killing one would probably anger Diavolo too much, let alone what Michael's reaction would be. Punishments for Celestial Realm denizens who offend or hurt you (and by extension, the demons that care for you) are non-lethal and have to be carried out with some level of care and subtlety. They can't arouse too much suspicion or anger from the other realms. Fortunately, angels aren't likely to do anything too grievous towards you anyway. (The angels that know you best have their own methods of dealing with their angelic brothers or sisters that need a little enlightenment when it comes to your happiness and well-being.)

When it comes to deadly retribution, humans are probably the easiest for your demon companions to dispose of. With their frail bodies and fondness for sin and reckless behaviour, humans die unexpectedly all the time. So long as they're careful not to leave any evidence of their involvement behind, some poor human's unexpected demise is coincidental at best. Your pet demon isn't likely to be held accountable for it either - assuming Solomon hasn't taken care of the miscreant first, that is.

Of course, killing is such a vague concept, and each of your demonic friends has their own preferences when it comes to getting their hands a little bloody for you.

(warnings: mentions of violence/murder/torture, unhinged behaviour, demons being demons, etc.)

RECKLESS AND IMPULSIVE: It might surprise you how quick they respond to aggression or insults towards you and the level of violence they're capable of. Their love for you is so strong, they can't help it. Perhaps it's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission, because they know you're too kind for your own good. Letting some no-good demon get away with hurting you, even the tiniest bit, is unthinkable. It doesn't really matter what you say, because once the switch flips, it's too late to stop them. The demon is already dead at their feet before anyone else nearby even realizes what happened.

— Mammon, Satan, Beelzebub

CAREFUL AND CALCULATED: A bitter insult, some derogatory comments on Devilgram, obnoxious criticisms heard amongst the chatter of RAD's busy hallways - it doesn't take much to anger them when it comes to defending you. You're so precious, their uniquely imperfect little human master, and you deserve better than that. They'll take their time, they'll make their plans, they'll consider their options carefully. When the deed is done, they'll make sure every last trace of blood is gone from their hands and their teeth before they see you again. It would be a shame to tarnish you with the filth of the unworthy.

— Leviathan, Asmodeus, Belphegor, Mephistopheles

MERCILESS AND UNTOUCHABLE: There's nothing that matters more than your safety and happiness. They're the ones you can turn to when you feel like you can't turn to anyone else. You can confide in them because they're strong. Their power and influence is unmatched, and no matter what troubles you, they'll see that it's taken care of. They used to scare you before, but now there's comfort in the firm hand clasping your shoulder when they lead you to your door, or the warm cup of tea they press into your hands, or the princely smile that promises you never have to worry so long as they're close. You can rest easy at night knowing whatever threatens your well-being is taken care of, even if you don't realize it. The dungeons beneath the Demon Lord's Castle that house the wicked, and the dark deeds carried out against them in your name, are burdens they gladly bear.

— Lucifer, Diavolo, Barbatos

[courtofcrescent]

Your kingdom has lost the war. The Royal Family is dead, including your mistress, the Old King's beloved concubine. Following her last command, you are forced to bend your knees to the new ruler. You continue to live your life as a dutiful high servant, striving to maintain normalcy as best you can, until one moonlit night, you accidentally uncover a terrifying secret... and attract dangerous attention.

Thus begins your new life as the Royal Consort, navigating the intrigue of your old-yet-new Court, all while guarding The Secret with your life.

"May Luxen always shine upon you."

Play as a male or female bearing the title of Royal Consort.

Romance the Ruler with a questionable reputation who is your now lawful partner; the Knight with a piercing gaze who follows you like a devoted shadow; the scandalous nouveau riche who happens to be the Minister of Entertainment; the striking Cousin who prefers the company of books; or a secret... something?

Join the exquisite intrigue of the Court by planning lavish parties, attending charitable events, or simply lying in your pavilion all day in hope to avoid assassination attempts—or perhaps even plot some yourself.

Acquire an expensively crafted dagger... and stab a few people in the back—or you know, a charming smile works too!

Embrace your new royal life with all its privileges and responsibilities—or find yourself trapped in misery, contemplating your choices.

Secrets. Hidden Truths. Lies. You name it.

Here's the list of romantic options who may or may not desire the demise of the Royal Consort. Questionable information. Proceed with extreme caution.

MALLORY d'ASTRUM | THE RULER (M)

Formerly the enemy commander who slew the Old King, Mallory now become the new Ruler who reigns over the Court of Crescent—your beloved kingdom's new moniker. A member of the Imperial House Astrum, you were familiar with his rumors long before the Empire invaded your kingdom. Wolf of War, they said, so that's why you are quite... baffled when you find him as tame as a pampered royal dog, for lack of better words. Did you hear the right rumors? Were all the bard's tales lies? Is this sweets-loving gentleman truly the same vicious commander once called the Beast of Battle?

"My Moonshine, would you care for a dance with your partner?"

VIVIAN d'BENITO | THE KNIGHT (F)

Every royal family member always has a loyal personal Knight, and so do you. Vivian is the very epitome of a guard on duty, according to your etiquette book. Silent yet attentive, her gaze never strays far from you. Obedient yet firm, she grants any wishes of yours as long as they do not clash with Mallory. Vivian has sworn an oath to protect you from any external threats, however can you trust your life to a knight who serves the Imperial House that destroyed the former royal family? Can you trust any oath that passes the lips of a former member of the Knights of Raven?

"I'm yours to command, Your Serene Highness."

ELLIS EDSELLY | THE MINISTER (M)

Scandal, scandal, and more scandal. Ellis's life is never dull, if the rumors are true. Raised to power by the very incident that destroyed the former royal family, he has garnered quite a reputation. Some despise him, some commend him, some licking his boots—or licking much more. Ellis accepts them all with a grin and a wink. If life is a stage, surely the Minister of Entertainment has the center seat. A commoner turned merchant turned noble, he has certainly climbed the power ladder quite high. You wonder, will he continue to ascend even further?

"Let us raise our glass to the night of merriment!"

SORIN FLAVENY | THE COUSIN (F)

You don't know why your reclusive, anti-court great uncle grants his blessing to send your second cousin to the Court. The last time you met Sorin was when both of you were still nursing, thus your impression of her mostly comes from your other cousin's words. Citrine of Flaveny, or so you've been told, her beauty shines like gems under the sunlight, captivating countless suitors. A face of great asset, yet from her very first gathering, you hear that Sorin always curls herself up in the solitude of the palace library. Why does she even bother to come to the Court?

"Cousin! Ah, I mean, Your Majes—Serene Highness! You have a very nice home. So... yellow."

???? | T̵H̸E̸ ̶E̴N̵I̶G̵M̸A̷?̷

G̶o̶.̵ ̷S̴t̵a̴y̶.̷ ̷G̷o̵!̶ ̵S̴t̷a̴y̴!̴ ̵N̶o̸!̸ ̴D̸o̶n̴'̸t̴!̶ ̸Y̷E̷S̸!̸!̴!̴

"Y̶o̷u̴.̵ ̴A̸r̸e̶.̷ ̷M̸I̷N̵E̸!!!!"

Court of Crescent is rated 18+ for mature themes, death and near death experience, blood and violence, alcohol and drugs, sexual content, morally questionable behaviours, really morally questionable behaviours, and more.

[DEMO COMING SOON]

FALL 2024

[under construction]

[were-changing-cake-vaults]

Gem would like to pretend that things are normal around Magic Mountain.

Or, well, that everyone else is normal, and she’s keeping all the weirdness to herself. She’s the one who decided to go a little creepy this season, after all, and as far as she can tell, she’s the only one smelling the rot coming from the river. All her neighbors should be fine, and have only commented that her boat burns a lot of coal fumes that sort of reek. It’s definitely not rot, and things are normal for them, and they are decidedly abnormal for her.

Which is fine! Gem wants her friends safe! Sure, she’s been hearing weird gurgling noises from the flooded caves that line the beaches, but she’s probably just hallucinating. Or maybe Scar is smacking salmon heads on note blocks again, despite living on the other side of the mountain. And sure, Impulse died and came back completely washed of color, but that’s just a demise thing. It’s just the creepy she dragged along with her- Joel’s totally fine, and that’s enough evidence for her.

Well, it would be if not for the fact that the salmon she’s been getting from fishing are starting to look…strange, all sharp-finned and much slimier than normal. And the cod, too, have far too many gills, like gashes down their sides. Grian pulls up a fish one afternoon and Gem swears it’s got six eyes, but Grian only remarks them as “weird patterning” and shoves it right into the furnace for cooking.

He’s been eating a lot of fish, recently, straight from this very river, the one that smells of rot. Caught them all himself. He’s also been fishing a lot- Gem doesn’t know the last time he worked on his base. He keeps trying to dredge up a book. She asks him one day why he keeps going if he’s already got a ton of books from the water, and he sounds haggard when he replies:

“The book, Gem. I’m not looking for a book. I’m looking for the book. It’ll give me all the answers I need. I haven’t found it yet, but the ocean will provide for me. I know it’s the next one.”

Something in the way he looks at her makes her gut twist. His eyes are empty, glossed over, and she knows the joke is that he looks like a cod, but it’s- he’s different, now, washed out and shiny skin, little to no meat on his bones, bags like pits under his soulless eyes. Something about the way he phrased that—the ocean will provide for me—makes her spine recoil back, feet dragged backwards towards her boat. A fear-stricken laugh bubbles up Gem throat as she tries to remember the last time he wasn’t fishing. When was the last time he slept?

Come to think of it, when was the last time she slept? Isn’t there a warning for those who stay up too late?

And when she tells him it’s an addiction, Grian just laughs it off, throws his rod into the sea, and pats the seat next to him. And then there she is, fishing alongside him, like she was always doing. She was planning to do this, yes. More and more of Magic Mountain arrives, plus Etho, who brings along a disc to put them in the mood. It’s a swan song.

The ocean sings back. It gives her an image of a great tall lighthouse, cherished by watery angels, who dance around it. It gives her the size, the colors, the materials to recreate it in verse. She smiles. It tells them all to knock another hermit off the list of survivors. She grins.

Before turning to join the group on their quest, Gem looks into the water one last time. Staring back is a well-kept woman with long, shiny red hair.

There is a book in her hand.

[s4no]

TOKREV: BDSM CLUB, PT. I

+ feat: manjiro sano, ken ryuuguji, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno, kazutora hanemiya, keisuke baji, tetta kisaki & hanma shuji

+ cw: fem!reader, each character will have their own cws, MDNI !!

+ summary: what they get up to at a bdsm club.

+ a/n: repost from my old account! all characters are aged 21+ @enchantedforest-network @bitchcraftinc

ಇ  𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗝𝗜𝗥𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗢. + cw: unprotected sex, mentions of plan b manjiro sano walks into the club like he owns the place— and he could if he wanted to, a thick stack of crisp hundred dollar bills tucked away inside the pocket of his jeans. he doesn't even glance at the girls until he's had a drink or two, but once he loosens up a little, he's there to have some fun. he usually searches for one of two types of women. on one hand, he enjoys the sweet, shy kind. the kind that unevitably fall apart on his cock, tears brimming in their eyes as the babble incoherently. but sometimes, he finds the biggest brat on shift and spends the rest of the night taming her into submission. while condoms are highly recommended, they're not required, and as long as manjiro has been coming to the club, you've never seen him use one. you usually lose count how many times he cums inside you, your stomach bloated and filled with his seed. each time he finishes, he just ends up fucking it back inside you. after all, he's giving you more than enough to pay for plan b.

ಇ  𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗝𝗜. + cw: implied size difference draken always recieves a warm welcome when he comes to the club. the girls swarm to his side to bat their lashes and ask him where he's been, why he didn't come around to see them earlier. and he always assures them that there's certainly enough attention to go around. he doesn't even get halfway through a drink before there's a woman seated in his lap, another sucking bruises into his neck. once he's had a taste of all his options, he typically chooses one girl for the night— which happens to be you tonight. he takes you to a private room and doesn't waste any time putting a condom on and bullying his thick cock inside of you. he thinks it's endearing the way your legs start to tremble halfway down his length, how you whine that it's just too much. with a smirk on his face, he assures you he'll make it fit and thumbs your clit until you loosen up enough for him to sink in all the way.

ಇ  𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗬𝗔. + cw: cock warming, spreader bar (r), impact play (r) mitsuya is friends with everyone at the club. from the bartenders to the dungeon master to the security, he chats them all up before indulging himself. when he finally sits down, he beckons you over and tells you he'd like his cock warmed while he enjoys his drink. he makes you do all the work of unbuckling his belt and stroking him until he's hard, straddling his torso and lowering yourself onto his length. once you're situated, he sips his drink and lazily plays with your clit, tsking when you start to squirm. it seems like eternity before he finishes his drink, and he revels in the way your pussy pulses around him with need. lifting you off him, he leads you over to one of the walls, choosing his weapon of demise: a spreader bar. he secures it between your knees and commands you to keep your hands planted on the wall while delivering brutal slaps to your soaked cunt, chuckling lowly when your body jolts from the impact.

ಇ  𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗙𝗨𝗬𝗨 𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢. + cw: voyeurism, oral (g), exhibitionism baji practically has to carry chifuyu into the club. it doesn't matter how many times they go, his nerves always get the best of him. he's a complete mess, blushing and staring at the floor. at least, until he gets a little liquor in his system. once he's more relaxed, he finally lets his eyes wander around, watching various pairs play with each other. he doesn't even realize he's been staring until he looks down at his lap and notices the large bulge in his pants. he looks so cute, sitting there all flustered like he doesn't know what to do with himself. that's when you approach him, leaning down and placing your hand over his erection, whispering how you can take care of his little problem. it's all chifuyu can do to keep from falling out of his chair as you pull his dick out and take it into your mouth, head bobbing as your hand pumps the base. his eyes squeeze shut as pleasure trills up his spine, and when he opens them, he finds himself being watched by multiple people. it has him cumming much sooner than he anticipated.

ಇ  𝗞𝗔𝗭𝗨𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗔 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗬𝗔. + cw: marking (r), nipple clamps (r), handjob (g) kazutora is a wild card depending on how much alcohol he consumes. at the beginning of the night, he's calm and collected, composed as he picks you out from the girls walking around the room. leading you to one of the velvet couches, he takes his time marking you up, placing clamps on your peaked nipples and covering your chest in lovebites in the shape of a 'K'. however, the more he drinks, the more his composure starts to slip away. all of his teasing begins to backfire and soon he's whining as you grind down against his cock. he buries his head in the crook of your neck, and you find it adorable how desperate he is, how his hips needily buck up against you. you're quick to pull his dick out, smearing the precum over the tip until he's begging for release. his head lolls back as you jerk him off, and the sounds that escape him are downright pornographic. pathetic whimpers and deep groans fill the space between you, and his entire body shudders as he shoots his load, cumming all over your hand.

ಇ  𝗞𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗝𝗜. + cw: collaring & leashing (r), butt plug (r), pet play during the first hour, baji usually hangs out with chifuyu, sipping his drink and pointing out girls he finds attractive. they watch a couple of stripteases and pole dances, tucking dollar bills under bra straps and into the waistbands of lacy panties. hell, baji may even get a lap dance. but the true fun doesn't begin until baji beckons you over and secures a collar around your neck. he undresses you slowly, until the collar is the only thing you're wearing, and then he runs his hands over your curves, groping and squeezing your soft flesh between his fingers before pushing them into your mouth. once they're nice and slick, he draws them out only to start prodding at your ass, easing his middle finger inside your puckered hole. from there, he stretches you open enough to fit a butt plug, one that vibrates with a bunny tail attached. you're his pet to ruin for the night, and after he's done playing with you, he proceeds to connect a leash to your collar and lead you around the club, letting everyone get a good look at his cum leaking out of you.

ಇ  𝗧𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗔 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗔𝗞𝗜. + cw: gloryhole, spitting (r), slapping (r), choking (r), fingering kisaki has a routine when he goes to the club. every single night, he walks around and scopes out the available girls in search of the perfect one. admittedly, he's not entirely sure what exactly he's looking for. but he needs her to be perfect. each time he doesn't find her, he takes his frustration out on whomever is working the gloryhole. he fucks the mouth of a nameless, faceless girl, tossing the money onto the floor when he's done. but eventually kisaki finds her— you. from then on, he only goes to you, abadoning the gloryhole and ignoring every other woman that approaches him. sometimes he comes in while you tend to other clients, and it always unnerves you because he sits down and watches you. waits for you to finish, stewing in anger. the moment your client leaves and he gets his hands on you, you learn the extent of his jealousy. he's ruthless, delivering harsh smacks across your cheeks and spitting into your mouth. with three fingers stuffed inside your cunt and his other hand wrapped around your throat, he taunts you about your previous client and makes you beg for forgiveness.

ಇ  𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗠𝗔. + cw: handcuffs (r), oral (g), face-fucking, deep throating as soon as hanma steps foot into the club, he wants to get his dick wet. he grabs himself a drink and a girl, restraining her hands behind her back in a pair of cuffs. he forces you to kneel before him, sucking him off while he converses with the other men, acting much too casually for someone getting head. other than a couple of commands, he doesn't offer any help, giving you free reign until he's close. when he satisified with your efforts, he rises to his feet and tangles a hand in your hair, holding your head in place while he fucks your face. with each thrust of his hips, the tip of his dick slams against the back of your throat, and you can't help but gag around him. but if you try to draw away, he retaliates— holding your head down so your nose is pressed against his pelvis. he's amused by the way you start to thrash, spit dribbling down your chin and making a mess on your chest. only when you completely submit to him does he graciously cum down your throat.

[disneyprincemuke]

i forgot that you existed * sv5

you didn't expect to run into your ex ever again, yet here you are and you find yourself pretending like you'd never met him before.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!reader

trope: fake amnesia

wc: 1.4k

(f1 masterlist) | (falling in reverse)

you hide behind a display in the middle of the supermarket, stacked boxes keeping you somewhat hidden from the man you’ve stalked the moment you got out of your car in the parking lot. you keep your head down to avoid getting recognised back.

an uncanny lookalike of the man you swore was the love of your life stepped out of the car parked next to yours and it’s like you’ve been in a trance ever since. you can’t tear your eyes away from the man now sauntering within the supermarket with a basket hanging from his arms loosely.

because you know that you packed everything up and moved halfway across the world when you thought you’d go crazy from the reality that he’d left you at the altar — on your wedding day.

it’s been 5 years since he watched you walk down the aisles of a church with your shared friends and families covered in a white dress that took you 2 months to choose. an entire lifetime ago since you had taken one last step up to the altar before he had run in the direction you came from and never be seen again.

in the back of your mind, you remember the way it felt like life had lost all its meaning after that day. life started to grey itself out as the living soul was sucked out of your body.

all for him to relay a message through his parents, thoroughly embarrassed to tell you that all the man could muster up was a pathetic and humiliating apology: ‘i’m sorry’.

he’s sorry? that’s all he could say to you after spending — wasting — 6 years of your life with him, planning your future and ending it abruptly on the day you were supposed to vow that you’d spend the rest of your lives together.

you’d daydreamed several times about the things you would say to him if you’d ever chanced upon running into him again. it went several different ways: sometimes you thought about throwing punches for making you question everything or falling to your knees in tears asking him how and why he could do this to you, and sometimes the scenario goes in a way that he’s the one begging you for an apology at your feet and saying that he regrets it.

the days seemed to pass by slowly and painfully after he’d left you. but you just remembered waking up one morning and hating the way your reflection stared at you in the mirror.

you were a mess.

so you packed your things and left everything behind — you moved halfway across the world and started anew. you haven’t regretted that decision.

and what are the chances that you’d run into sebastian in an obscure supermarket on the other side of the globe half a decade later? you had left your hometown for this very possibility only for it to happen much later in life at a time you would never have expected.

now that you’re stalking him (unstealthily), everything you’d sworn that you would say to him is thrown out of the window.

you follow him into an aisle and linger at the edge of the aisle, feigning interest in the baking goods displayed neatly on the shelves. you pick up an item and drop your head to look at it, though your eyes can’t help but trail up to the man standing on the other end of the aisle.

it really is him. no matter how much reasoning you do with yourself, there’s no denying that sebastian vettel is standing in the very same property as you for the first time since the unfortunate demise of your relationship.

you seriously consider walking up to him and clocking him in the face then bolting away. because you know — used to — him and he wouldn’t hesitate to throw back a punch.

sebastian turns his head in your direction abruptly, making you whirl back around to the shelf in front of you. and then it happens.

you hear your name being called out by a voice you’d longed to hear after all these years.

you start to panic. you consider all of the possible options to escape the situation. maybe you still have time to start running? it’s just a supermarket; there’s several others everywhere else. you can just start doing your grocery shopping elsewhere.

ah, but this is the biggest supermarket closest to you and it’s got everything you need.

but as sebastian slowly approaches you, you find your mouth speaking faster than your head could process. “do i know you?”

do i know you? where the hell did that come from?

sebastian stops a a distance from you, jaw hung as he tilts his head at your words. “what?”

you swallow the formed lump in your throat as you look at him, wide eyed and hands balled into fists by your side. perhaps you should just pretend that he’s got the wrong person.

yet it seems that your mouth will continue to run without your brain. “yeah, i got into an accident a couple of years ago. it affected my memory.” you smile slightly. “did i know you?”

you watch as he tries to find a response to what you’ve just said. and he’s better than you, you think, because he still managed to find something to say. “accident? i’m so sorry.” you wave off his concerns with a hand in the air and a shake of your head. “we, uh,” he sucks in a breath, “used to be really good friends.”

good friends. men really are liars.

“oh, what a shame,” you say with a grimace, as if you mean it. as if you don’t actually remember the way he’d made you feel small. “how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face. i haven’t seen you in any photo albums.”

you start to think that your mouth has a mind of its own. you swear that you’ve seen a movie with this exact plot: feigning memory loss to avoid the real consequences of running into someone from your past life. or it could just be a result of all your panic.

because he is in every single photo album you’d brought along with you. there’s holes in those albums, photos with sebastian now sitting in a box in the store room of your little apartment, in the deepest corner where it cannot be acquired without hardwork.

you lie again with a soft laugh. “when i was told my memory was completely wiped from my accident, i took off in an attempt to start again. but how nice that i run into a familiar — well, unfamiliar — face again.”

sebastian stands there in silence for a moment. “i’d really love to catch up some time,” sebastian offers with a small smile. “find out about this new life you have and everything.”

you feel an insurmountable rage fill your chest. your chest feels heavy and your head starts to pound.

you should really just start running back to your car now.

“that would be a great idea!” what the hell. that’s literally not what you had meant to say. you were considering laying it on him and screaming at him in the middle of the supermarket. it’s just so unfair that he stands here acting like he hadn’t driven you to the brink of insanity in your 20s.

“fantastic!” sebastian grins fishing for his phone in the pocket of his jacket. “let me get your number so we can find a day we’re both free? i have to head back to finish unpacking my boxes — i just relocated here for work recently.”

“what are the chances,” you joke through gritted teeth, typing your number into the contact sheet he’d pulled up for you. you should just run now with his phone and throw it into the lake nearby. “well, it’s nice running into you. i’ll hopefully see you soon!” you perk up and turn around. “sorry, i didn’t catch your name earlier.”

he grins, “it’s sebastian.”

gen taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @localwhoore @namgification

series taglist: @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @lozzamez3 @haikyuu-carat @bicchaan @cinnamongirlontv

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Missing Matchmaker Merle

Warnings: Smut, degradation, minor alcohol consumption, unprotected p in v, NO use of (Y/N)

Summary: You and Daryl distract each other from missing Merle.

Notes: Wanted to try the idea of Daryl thinking he wants super rough sex, but he finds out he doesn't really like it that much when you indulge in it. GIF found from Pinterest from user vallie

Taking a hot shower was something you used to take for granted. But after arriving at the CDC and having the chance to not only clean, but sanitize yourself, you made every second count. You even fucking shaved. 

When you heard Jenner would also be serving dinner, you could've thrown up in excitement.

“C'mon, quit actin’ like a pussy and drink.” 

You rolled your eyes at the redneck's words, but shrugged and waved him forward anyway. He grinned in success and filled a cup with red wine, nearly spilling it on your chest with the way he shoved it towards you.

The shift in the atmosphere the last few hours had been remarkable. Not too long ago you were in the first stages of accepting your possible demise, standing behind Shane and Daryl as they fought to get Rick away from the doors. Now here you sat between Carol and Daryl, drinking some of the best wine you'd ever tasted, enough food on your plate to fill your stomach the way it was meant to be. 

You barely heard Daryl whisper beside you over the happy chatter of your group. “Watch, he's gonna turn all red, Koreans all got an allergy to alcohol.” 

You couldn't help but break into a grin at that, shaking your head in amusement. He looked too excited for you to correct him so you just chuckled, and tried not to fall from your chair when he playfully elbowed you in your side. 

The sight of Lori and Shane in the little library foiled your plans to read before bed. You only watched for a second, it looked like they were arguing, trying to keep their voices down despite their frustration. 

You rolled your eyes and turned on your heels, annoyed you'd have to settle on something in the rec room. 

As soon as you turned the corner to walk down the hall, you bumped into a chest so hard you lost your balance. Their hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, and when you heard that teasing southern accent you immediately felt your mood lifting. 

“That wine make you blind? You Korean too?” He snickered as he helped you right yourself. 

It was incredibly refreshing to see Daryl in that light. He was in a great mood, not drunk but buzzed enough to keep a grin on his face. 

“Fucking Shane and Lori's in there.” You grumbled playfully, crossing your arms in exaggerated annoyance. 

“Huh, what're they doin’?” His voice lowered to a nosey whisper and he nudged you back to peek around the corner. He immediately pulled back, bumping into you again, a look of disgust on his face. “Fuckin’ white trash. Actin’ like Rick ain't right down the hall.” 

That had you turning into a nosey busybody and you went to see what he was talking about, but he had already nudged your shoulder in the other direction to the bedroom halls. 

“C'mon, let's go do somethin’.” He didn't wait for an answer as he continued using his body to guide you down the hallway, reminding you of a sheepdog, which amused you to no end. 

“Like what?” You smirked as he shouldered you into one of the rec rooms. There were a few loveseats, bean bag chairs, a long couch and endless shelves of things. Board games, card games, sketch books and those really expensive high quality colored pencils, markers, you name it. You could spend the rest of your life in this room and die happy. 

“Hell, I don't know.” He shrugged and went to look through the shelves. You watched him in the doorway, your lip tightening at the side when you realized he was desperate to take his mind off Merle. Shit, you were too. You missed the fuck out of Merle Dixon. You'd grown extremely close to him, he wordlessly accepted your vulnerability of being the black sheep and Daryl related to it. They treated you like some weird adopted family member that one playfully flirted with and the other jerked off to. 

“Wanna play uno? I'm suspiciously good at it.” You finally shut the door and walked over to him with crossed arms, aware of the way he tensed when you got closer. 

“Uno? The fuck? Hell no.” He scoffed and aggressively flipped through the games on the shelf. “This is like some fucked up retirement center.”

“What'd you expect? An Xbox full of two player games?” You watched as he pretended to read the back of a card game box. 

“Psh. I don't know. Let's go fuck with Glenn -”

You grabbed his wrist before he could rush past you and laughed. “Leave the poor kid alone. He's gonna be so fucking sick tomorrow.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Threw up on my couch.” He muttered, remembering the way he'd had to drag Glenn to the couch in his temporary bedroom. 

“Course he did. You kept pouring wine down the kids' throat.”

You had a few minutes of friendly banter, suggested uno again, he suggested strip poker, you suggested skipping the poker, and soon you were grinding against his knee behind some of the book shelves.

“I want it dirty. Want it raw.” He huffed as he feverishly unbuckled his belt. “F-fuck, you're so hot.”

You grinned and leaned in to bite his bottom lip, earning a delicious whimper from him. You dug your teeth down harder and pulled back, feeling his dick twitch obscenely against your hip. 

“Want it dirty, yeah?” You drawled and kissed down his neck, switching between biting and biting hard. 

“Yeah.” He breathed and fucked his hand, clutching onto your hair with his other. “You think,” he faltered as you bit down on his nipple, his words spilling into various curses and slang you couldn't understand. “Shhh-fuck” His voice cracked in a way that was absolutely fucking adorable to you. “Y’think, you could, on top-”

“Yeah, I can do that.” You made your way back up to his neck, reaching to unbutton the rest of his shirt, but he stopped you. You didn't question it, you just sat him down on one of the loveseats and climbed in his lap. 

You looked over your shoulder at the door, even though it was shut anyone could just walk in, but Daryl grabbed your chin and forced you back against his mouth. 

You fucking loved the way he kissed. It was so hot and sloppy, his tongue diving everywhere in your mouth, licking every spot he could reach. When you pulled back to breathe, the skin around your lips felt wet, just another thing to make your pussy wetter. Daryl Dixon being so messy and dirty drove you insane. 

“I like the way you kiss me,” you slurred, your hands sliding up your pajama shirt to grope your own breasts. “Who would've thought you were such a needy whore.”

“Can you blame me, woman? Shit.” He thrusted up against you as he admired your form over him, your lips parted and your hair in your face, you looked hotter than every single pornstar he'd ever seen. He came harder to you than Sasha Grey. 

You maneuvered out of your pajama pants and slipped back in his lap, sliding your pussy against his throbbing cock. 

“Fuckin’ goddamnit.” He sputtered and grabbed hold of your hips for dear life. He rolled up in sync with you, nearly cumming when he saw the way his head would push through your folds each time your hips slid back. 

It was easier to get him inside you with you on top, you didn't need to worry about him slamming into you like last time. You took your time, enjoying the way he curled his upper lip in frustration, his eyes locked on the way his dick disappeared up inside you. 

“Fuck.” You drew your word out as you finally sat down on him, his dick sticking you like a skewer. 

You opened your eyes when you felt him grabbing your right wrist. He brought it up to his throat with no hesitation, a new boldness filling him that you didn't expect. 

You scoffed and laughed, the sound making his hips jerk roughly up into you. You obliged though, grabbing hold of his thick throat and squeezing. 

The situation you found yourself in was something you could easily get used to. You leaned back, keeping yourself upright with your grip on his neck. You rolled your hips in a way that served you, using Daryl's dick to get off. The way you fucked him was completely foreign to him, he'd never seen anything like this in the tapes he'd steal from Merle. 

You moaned when he bucked into you, and you had to take a moment to steady yourself. You released his neck and grabbed his chin, your thumb slipping between his teeth, holding him like a hooked fish. He looked up at you through his lashes and bit down gently, his hips rolling slower now. 

“You're a fucking mess.” You hissed with a smirk, looking down at your work proudly. Now he was the one who needed to be in a filthy magazine. His cheeks and lips red, his eyes half lidded and dark, his teeth bared and biting on your thumb. He was sweating like crazy and you were impressed he hadn't come yet, must've been the wine. “God I missed your dick.”

You weren't sure how it happened but soon you were pressed against the wall, your thighs wrapped around his back and his dick rearranging your insides. You couldn't moan even if you wanted, he was so rough and fast that all you could do was gasp in each breath, your eyes rolled back and your mouth hanging open. 

His thrusts slowed and he pulled back from biting your neck to nip the side of your jaw, making your eyes roll back to focus. 

“Slap me.”

Your words didn't register to him for a second. He lifted his head and furrowed his brows in confusion, although his rough thrusts didn't even budge. 

“C'mon, you wanted it dirty, didn't you?” You sneered, and a book fell from the shelf next to you when your head thudded back against the wall after a deep thrust.

He went to speak, but he only let out a long breath, and that's when his thrusts started to slow. “The hell you want that for?” 

You were caught off guard by the look on his face. He looked equally confused and almost… insulted? Hurt? 

“Cause it feels really fucking good. Hey, you don't have to, alright?” Your breathing came back under your control when his thrusts stopped altogether. 

You could tell you upset him. You slid your legs from his waist until your toes touched the floor, and his dick slipped out of you. 

“Hey, it's okay, alright?” You reached to touch his chin but he tilted his head away, no longer looking confused, moreso disappointed. 

You bit your bottom lip and thought. He was in no state to make any further moves so you made it for him. You pulled your clothes back on and took him to his bedroom, making sure to close and lock the door. You turned the lights off and laid him down on the bed before climbing on top of him. 

“I just wanna make you feel good, can I do that?” You murmured softly, sitting on his lap and stroking his cheek. 

That seemed to get to him and he gave in, nodding once without meeting your gaze.

“Just tell me to stop and I will.” You promised and kissed down his cheek, deciding against being rough with him the way you were before. 

“Never gonna hear me say that.” He snorted and intertwined his fingers in your hair, gentle, something you hadn't experienced with him. It was like a switch was flipped and he was a completely different man. 

Daryl melted under you as you worked him over with soft touches and kisses. You took your bottoms back off and took his dick back out, giving him a few strokes to get him hard again. You wasted no time in slipping him inside you, thankful there was little resistance with how wet you had become. 

You settled down on him, placing your hands on his chest to balance yourself, your fingers pinching the buttons on his shirt as a way to ground yourself. His dick sent you to other places. 

You fucked him slow, taking the time to feel and appreciate each time his tip rubbed against your sweet spot. He breathed noisily under you, giving the occasional grunt or quiet whine, his hands resting on your hips. 

Flipping your hair to one side over your shoulder, you leaned down and kissed him. You led this time, just moving your lips against his, slow and deep and without the use of your teeth, no matter how badly you wished to hear him whimper. 

He sat up and wrapped his arms around your back to turn you over, somehow managing to keep his lips on yours the entire time. 

You felt your muscles sigh in relief when he laid you on your back in the soft bed. You let out a soft happy breath when he slid his hands up your sides, content in just stroking your skin. He wasn't fucking you then, it was something different. If you were stupid you'd call it making love. He thrusted deep and slow, his hips moving on their own accord. Each time he plunged back in he'd exhale deeply through his nose, tickling the skin of your upper lip. 

Daryl was the one to break the kiss, he leaned back on his heels to look down at you.

“So damn pretty.” He mumbled, his eyelids struggling to stay open. If he wasn't drunk on the wine he was drunk on you and this new way of having you, a way he never even considered. This was it, he thought, this is how he wanted to have sex for the rest of his life. Swallowing each other whole, touching and caressing every inch of skin. 

His eyelids didn't feel so heavy when he saw you suck in a deep breath. Your eyes closed and you grabbed at your hair and breast, your head lolling to the side, your mouth hanging open, your face all twisted up-

You came hard around him, shuddering and gasping and whimpering as you enjoyed your sweet orgasm. It was so different, so drastically different from the last one he gave you. You didn't feel like you were on fire, clawing at your skin with your throat raw, you felt like you were being slipped into the warm black lake that was Daryl Dixon. 

“Daryl, oh my god Daryl.” Your words slurred in your mouth and he leaned down to kiss you. He wanted to swallow every little noise you made. Wanted to swallow your breaths, wanted to swallow you. 

“Ss-shh-fuck.” He bubbled against your lips as he came, forgetting to pull out again. He didn't give a shit anymore. He moaned then, such a beautiful noise that it nearly shattered your heart. So shameless, he didn't hold back at all, letting you hear all of it, all that you earned from him. 

He ground his hips into you well after you both finished, making sure every last drop of his cum filled you up. He buried his face in your neck and rolled his hips, his rough pubes grinding against your throbbing clit. You'd never come that way before, not without at least a little outside stimulation, the fact he made you cum from penetration alone changed your life for good. 

It was hard to bite back any further words. You moaned softly at the feeling of his dick still dragging against your walls, nudging against you each time in a way that was nearly too much to bear. 

You looked at him with admiration. He looked beautiful. You reached up and ran your hand over his short hair, wiping the sweat from his brows. He looked at you, something he needed great courage to do, and sighed. 

He couldn't think of anything to say. He felt ashamed, embarrassed, he'd been so deeply vulnerable that it physically hurt him. He swore he'd blow his goddamn brains out if you laughed or made fun of him. 

But you didn't, you just smiled up at him with that dangerous look on your face that had his heart racing. It should've relaxed him, but it didn't, it made the muscles in his shoulders tense. 

“Do you want me to leave?” You whispered as you stroked his cheek, fully prepared for him to go back to the same old Daryl Dixon you knew and tolerated. 

“Do whatcha want.” He breathed, finally pulling his soft dick from you. 

“Good. Then I'll stay.” You leaned up on your elbows and kissed his jaw before slipping into the bathroom. 

When you climbed back in bed he was pretending to be asleep. You scoffed quietly in amusement and pulled a thin sheet over the two of you, curling up behind him. You decided that wouldn't suit you so you turned over and wrapped your arm around his waist, nuzzling your face in the back of his neck. 

You kissed the skin there once before pressing your forehead against the same spot, closing your eyes when you felt comfortable. 

Daryl stared at the wall in front of him as he felt your fingers softly fidget with the buttons of his shirt. They soon stilled and your breathing slowed to a point where he could barely hear it anymore. Only then did he close his eyes, and secretly enjoy the way you held him. 

The next morning was awkward when you woke up and saw Glenn still passed out on the couch.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[bloodykhaos]

Gifts and Fun Consequences

Pairing: Rhaenyra Targaryen x GN!Reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: A little bit of violence.

Summary: Playing a traitor hunter is not something your Queen is happy about.

══════════════════

The whole world around you was burning. Not literally. But, even in that aspect, it would not be long for it to happen as well. You had always liked to think you were a good person. Calm, kind, collected.

And you had been. For a while. Until Hightowers had decided to steal the throne. There was almost nothing from the old you in the new you. The betrayal had changed you. It was not even done to you, but it still felt like a knife had been buried in your back and twisted for good measure.

The feeling only had deepened when you had found out one of your closest friends had not shared the same views as you and his brother. Arryk's choice had cut you deep. As deep as your sword had cut him when he had tried to murder the Queen. And when he had not seen anything wrong with attacking Erryk in the process.

You'd found them battling in the Queen's sleeping chambers. It hadn't taken you long to put two and two together when you'd seen her terrified and curled up on the floor. Her features had been painted in colors you had never wanted to see.

Your sword out of its leather sheath had been the next thing you had known before you'd charged at Arryk when he'd knocked his brother down. You would never forget the look in his eyes.

The regret, the sorrow. But the readiness to end his brother's life had been there too. And it'd been the last thing to push you one step closer to dragging your sword through his stomach after he would not have listened to your pleas.

Nothing had been the same since that day. Since it had happened a week ago. Erryk had not been himself at all, but had never put the blame on you. And it was okay. You were blaming yourself for all three of you. There was enough guilt in you already.

That was why you did your best to mask the way emotions pulled at you. How they attempted to sneak their way into your head and lead to your demise.

Maybe that was why you had started making unwise decisions. Decisions that had seemed great and very well planned until you had taken action. It had not been the tactics of the war that had led you to those decisions.

It had been your anger at everyone and everything.

That was how you found yourself in this situation right now.

The clinking of the metal was bouncing off the stone walls as you walked with one hand over your sword and the other fisted in the hair of an unfortunate man. Unfortunate because he'd had the rare occasion of you making it your personal mission to find him.

He was not too smart, so it had not been a challenge at all. Taking candy out of a child's hand would be harder. You should have done this weeks ago when the Greens had decided to put their impostor on your Queen's throne.

A loud thud sounded throughout the big hall as you pushed the man to his knees. Your tight grip on the hair made him wince, his face scrunching up in pain before you let go of his head and stood a few steps in front of him.

Fixing your armor and making sure your sword was safely in its sheath, you cleared your throat while he stared up at you with a foolish smirk on his dirty face. "Is this what you truly fell into doing?" His head shook as it dropped loosely.

"Joining the unrightful, fake heir?" He spoke, seething out his words like a snake. "Betraying your King is disgusting to do even for you." He looked at you with displeasure written all over his face before he spat in front of your feet.

Taking a slow and deep breath, you looked up while pursing your lips. He really did not know when to stop. "Ah!" His head whipped as a strong punch was delivered to his face.

The air got knocked out of his lungs, causing his mouth to open as he blinked slowly. "I do not know what you are speaking of. I only know of the Queen Rhaenyra." Your stoic tone had nothing in common with the actions of your fist.

"I am not aware of what kind of people you acquaint yourself with, Cole—" Continuing, you raised one hand, clenching and unclenching it. "But I am not interested in joining."

Criston huffed. And huffed again. Before an airy chuckle turned into a laugh that you fought hard not to roll your eyes at. "You truly want to devote your life to serve that who-" The word could never be finished as your fist connected with his cheek once more.

"Oh, excuse me." Your face scrunched up in concern and confusion. Your upper body bent to get closer to his face. "Did you want to say something?" The question seemingly innocent held a huge warning behind itself.

If the way you said it was not enough, the look on your face should let him know you would not listen to insults thrown at the Queen.

His lips pursed as he looked at you with anger in his eyes. "You are pathetic." Almost spitting at you as he spoke, his nostrils flared. "You could have been a great knight, but instead, you are just her whore." His bitter tone made your lips pucker out for a second while you listened.

Your eyes went to the side and up while you slightly scrunched your eyebrows. But your gaze quickly found his again. Taking a step closer, you did not fear him doing anything. Even with his hands untied.

Lowering your upper body to the point your eye line was almost at the same level as his, you tilted your head. "I can be her whore." You said lowly. "I can be her slut." You added in a careless tone. "I can be whatever she wishes to call me."

The low volume of your voice only intensified the message you were giving. There were no threats, but he looked worried. "And I will still have more honor than you in your white cloak." You finished the sentence with a click of your tongue as you let out the last word.

Your burning gaze stayed on him as the silence embraced both of you. His eyes going between yours before his throat bopped.

"Ser Y/n!" You heard the only voice that could ever make you do whatever she wanted you to do. The only voice you followed the orders of. Sometimes not very well. Like this time.

You stood back to your full height while smiling at Criston. "What is the meaning of this?" You turned around just in time to see her confusion and irritation as she waved her hand.

"I have brought you a gift, Your Grace." Her head tilted at you as she squinted her eyes. You acted like nothing happened, back to your Queensguard-self. Back to behaving like a true knight on duty.

But she did not see you just as that anymore. She knew your true self. "A gift?" She repeated, unimpressed. "Is this the gift you are speaking of?" The annoyance in her tone was shining through as she gestured with her hand to Criston.

However, her eyes were glued to you. And they were not filled with happiness. "Yes, Your Grace." You stepped to the side, giving her a clear line of sight from the direction of where she was standing.

She glanced at the man before her eyes rolled as she sighed unhappily. Her hands holding onto her long dress. "And to what possible end would you bring him into the Dragonstone?" Her mouth was tense, the skin on her neck straining with each word she spoke.

"He had plenty of things to say, Your Grace." You informed her before moving your eyes to Criston. "Did you not?" The rhetorical question made the man look up at you as he avoided Rhaenyra's gaze.

He, however, stayed quiet. "Did you not?!"

"Yes!" You smiled to yourself satisfied when he finally responded after you had raised your voice.

His eyes dropping to the ground as he kept kneeling on the hard stone. Rhaenyra finally looked at him for longer than a second. Intrigue appeared on her features.

"What things?" Her words held some edge, opposite to the, now, calm demeanor. "Tell your Queen what things." You nodded at the man who would not raise his gaze above the floor.

You waited for him to speak as Rhaenyra looked at you with parted lips. Sucking in your bottom lip, you slightly shook your head before stretching your mouth into an unamused smile.

"Tell your Queen!" Your voice was so loud it bounced off the walls in the hall and caused the blonde woman to look at you with widened eyes.

"She's not my Queen!" He finally replied, trying to be loud but could barely be heard.

Your eyes found Rhaenyra, not believing in Criston's foolishness. "If she is not, then you are a traitor to the crown." You declared openly, your hands resting on the handle of your sword.

The Queen's gaze was roaming your face as you bit the corner of your lip from the inside. Standing on guard right next to the dark-haired man, your head was looking straight ahead at nothing in particular.

"It is not possible for me to be what you speak of when I believe in one, true King Aegon II." Your mouth ticked at his words. You had never liked him. Ever since he had joined the Kingsguards.

He represented nothing with himself. He was no real warrior. "What will you choose to do with me for speaking honestly, Ser Y/n?" Your eyes faltered at the mocking tone of your name as you could see from the corner how Rhaenyra's face changed into anger upon hearing it too.

Moving slowly and lowering your head to his, you watched as his ignorant grin widened. "The only person who can decide your fate is Queen Rhaenyra." The firmness of your words made the man blink.

"And you should be happy about it." Now, it was your turn to smirk at him. "Because I already have a lot of things planned for you in case she needs any help with deciding." Criston's face quickly dropped as he paled a little.

It made the corners of your mouth lift even higher as you stood straighter. At times, you could be perceived as insane. And it was perfect for torturing methods. Or situations like this where it did not hurt to scare and threaten unworthy people.

Criston knew what you were capable of. You were also sure he would not want to experience how far your cruelty could go.

"That is enough." The Queen's voice made you stand straighter again as you would not look away from Criston. You relished in the fear that was forming on his face. "Take him away to the dungeon."

Rhaenyra ordered two guards, gesturing with her head as her hands laid neatly at her front. "And you, Ser Y/n." Your posture formed to perfection as you stood with your chin up. "I will be waiting for the explanation in my chambers." Her words were sharp as you listened.

She would not look away from you for a longer while before shaking her head in irritation and walking away.

——

"Are you mad?!" She almost yelled out as soon as the doors closed, leaving only the two of you to privacy. "Have you not listened to what I said before?!" It would have to be the angriest you had ever seen her.

"I have, my Queen." There was nothing you could say or do that would make it better right now. She was already mad at you. Mad for ignoring her orders.

"Chasing after Cole alone? Only Daemon could be accused of such foolishness!" Her feet were taking her back and forth as she was pacing around the chambers.

Her hand was on her forehead as she rubbed it. "Cole is nothing close to a warrior, he could not be a challenge even at his best-" Her angry eyes found you quickly as you started speaking.

"It is not Cole I am worried about!" She cut you off sharply, her gaze piercing through yours as you sighed. "It is everyone else that could have seen you, kidnapped you, even taken your life!" Her voice kept getting louder and louder.

But you did not even flinch, you listened to everything she had to say. You took a half-step forward, reaching for her with your hand. "Rhaen, nothing happen-"

"That is no way to speak to your Queen!" Her teeth were clenched as she looked at you with wide, full-of-rage eyes.

You immediately stepped back to your previous spot. Hands going to your sides as you stood to your full height. Your head was unmoving as you stared blankly ahead.

"You disregarded my orders, left the Dragonstone without my permission at a convenient time when I could not have noticed your absence until recently." She started ranting and listing every single thing you had done. Every rule you had broken. "And most importantly, you could have died!"

Her wild eyes were going from one thing to another and another, trying to find anything that would occupy her head. She was leaning on the table, her arms spread widely as she breathed deeply.

You stayed silent. Your stance did not falter even for a second as she was composing herself. Her hand rubbing at her eyebrows before she turned around to you.

"Will you not say anything?!" She asked loudly, raising her hands and making them drop to her sides.

She tensed her entire mouth as she waited for you. "I apologize for my actions, Your Majesty, it will not happen again." You spoke softly, not letting your eyes wander to her. Not letting them connect with hers.

She huffed in irritation, turning her body around and running a hand through her hair before moving back to you. "Is that all you have to say?" She pursed her lips, her hand gesturing to you as its palm was pointed up.

When you did not reply, she started walking and stood right in front of you. She stared right into your eyes, going between them, as you did your best to avoid her gaze.

"Are you not going to embrace me?" Her tone was still firm, but you could sense the falter in her words.

"I am not allowed to-"

"Oh, for Gods' sake, Y/n." Her eyes rolled in frustration as she grabbed both of your hands and wrapped your arms around herself.

Your mouth twitched as a small smile threatened to break out on your lips when she pushed herself closer to you. "Do not dare to do this ever again." She spoke in your neck and you finally let a grin spread on your face as you tightened your arms around her.

"I was losing my mind worrying about you." One of your hands went up to her hair and softly caressed it as the metal of your armor clinked.

She huffed in annoyance at how stiff your movements were and pulled away while looking at your chest. "Take this off. I hate it when it gets in my way." You could not help the chuckle that passed your lips as you started getting rid of the armor.

"I do not think you like anything or anyone getting in your way, my dear." Her head tilted at your words, but you saw the hint of a smile that formed on her lips.

"I do not mind someone getting in my way." The chuckle only intensified as your head shook while she quickly raised her eyebrows at you. A playful smirk playing on her lips.

When you managed to put away all of the parts, she quickly stepped back into your personal space and sneaked her arms around your torso. "If you ever do that again, there will be serious consequences." Her breath was hitting your lips as she kept her head up to look at you.

Smirking at her, you embraced her with your strong arms before pulling her closer and ghosting your lips over hers. "It depends on what type of consequences we are speaking of." Your low voice had the woman glancing down at your lips as she dug her short nails into your back.

"Some of them proved to be quite tempting." You added, brushing her lips with yours. And it was all it took for her to connect them, fisting your shirt and pulling at it.

You did not waste any second and kissed her back instantly, hands lying flat on her back before one of them wandered lower. Her mouth opened when you squeezed her backside and you swiftly pushed your tongue inside.

Moans sounded through both of your throats before she pulled away to get some air. Your mouth did not wait for hers to come back as you attached it to her soft skin. Sucking and nibbling on her neck, you heard her sighs getting louder.

"To the bed." Her words were quiet, but you were used to that in this kind of situation as she was losing herself.

"I thought you wanted to speak." Teasing her with a smirk on your face, you earned yourself a hard glare when she grabbed your hair and pulled you away from her neck.

"Do not test my patience any longer today." Your smirk widened so much it could break your face as you smashed your lips against hers and started walking her back to the bed.

The anticipation was rising for both of you as you were getting drunk on how eager she was.

"As you wish, my Queen."

After all, there was something you could do to make it better.

══════════════════

[meangirls-imagines]

Savior

Description: Leighton meets reader in her math class and is instantly smitten. However, as weeks go on, Leighton sees that the reader's kindness is getting taken advantage of, causing her girl to burn out. Leighton takes matters into her own hands.

WARNINGS: frat guys being dicks, leighton being protective, reader being a smol bean, exhaustion.

leighton murray was about to lose her shit.

in her defense, it's definitely deserved. 

and it all has to do with her crush, y/n y/l/n.

y/n  was the sweetest person leighton had ever met. she always said hi to everyone she came across, was always open to listen to anyone's problems, gave great hugs. she even went the extra mile to do people's homework if they needed. her and leighton were in the same math class and got partnered up on a project. 

leighton didn't know why but the second she met y/n, she instantly felt a connection to the girl. luckily the two hit it off and had been hanging out ever since. in the short time leighton had been friends with the girl, she had noticed something. 

there was a guy in their math class named josh. he was in theta with nico so that's how leighton knew him. she always felt like he was a sleaze ball because he thought he was hot shit. she had noticed over the past week that y/n's homework load seemed to double. and josh seemed to be at every party that leighton and her roommates had gone to that week.

she had tried to get it out of y/n, but the girl just shook it off. leighton was beginning to get frustrated, seeing y/n basically crumble before her eyes. she had to do some more digging.

josh matthews was about to meet his demise and he didn't even know it. 

leighton didn't want to expose him at the theta party she was currently at, but after a text from jocelyn with a picture of y/n knocked out at a table, she had enough. 

luckily for her, nico still had connections at theta and told her who the president and vice president of the frat were very quickly and her plan was set in motion.

she had talked to both guys in the president's bedroom, leighton providing all the evidence she had on josh not doing his homework. from pictures of him either sleeping in class to pictures of his laptop on netflix during class and pictures of y/n's work (that leighton had taken when the girl wasn't paying attention), showing josh's name written in the corner of one paper and y/n's in the other.

the president and vp took in the evidence, thanking leighton and reassuring her it wouldn't continue or happen again. the blonde thanked them, and rushed downstairs to tell her roommates she was leaving. 

she had an adorable nerd to take care of.

leighton made the usual 15 minute walk to the library from theta in 12. she scanned her student id and made her way into the building. she found jocelyn who pointed her in the direction of the sleeping girl. leighton's heart broke and melted at the same time.

y/n was asleep on her math textbook, papers surrounding her. leighton got a good look at the girl's face, seeing how the weeks of double work had caught up to her. she carefully got all of y/n's things together, sliding them in the girl's backpack, shouldering it, before waking up the sleeping girl.

y/n groaned as she opened her eyes, seeing leighton in front of her. she sleepily smiled, feeling groggy. "hi leighton, what are you doing here?" the blonde smiled at the girl, gently helping her up. "i'm taking care of you. now come on, we're going back to my dorm."

 leighton guided the girl back to her dorm, occasionally supporting the girl's weight as she sleepily strolled next to leighton. once the two made it back to the dorm, leighton gave her some of her pjs to change into, allowing the girl privacy as she went out to the common room to shoot a text to her roommates. 

when leighton went back into her room, y/n was already halfway back to sleep in leighton's bed. the blonde smiled and changed before sliding into bed next to y/n, pulling the girl into her chest. y/n sighed happily and snuggled closer to leighton. "leight?" the blonde hummed, beginning to run her fingers through y/n's hair. 

"i really like you. a lot. do you wanna go out?" leighton giggled. "let's get you rested up and then we'll talk about it, okay?" the girl nodded and allowed the grasps of sleep to take her, feeling leighton gently kiss her on the forehead.

[yourlocalzombiewriter]

And I don't even like you that much!

Wait…, I do…, fuck

(Black myth wukongs head-canons)

Author note: hi!, I’m not that use to writing and English is not exactly my first language so there might be a lot of spelling mistakes.

And this is my first time writing for Sun wukong (Black myth) so he might not seem in character, if that makes sense. Either way I hope you enjoy!

★ ✵ ★

Assuming you two are already dating, and he’s comfy around you, please prepare for some chaotic moments.

Not a single Moment is dry nor empty with this mischievous monkey.

From spooking you with a clone of himself, or annoying your with one of his many transformations, he never runs out of ideas to surprise you with.

That being said, he is a bit laid back now depending on what period you’re dating him. After the events of journey to the west, he is way more calmer then his “younger” self.

He enjoys the simplicity of day to day activities now, cuddling, cleaning up a small section in which you both share. Or laying out under a tree with you as you read to him.

Those small moments mean much more to him now.

He loves to pridefully declare his fearlessness and having no such thing as “a biggest fear”. But at night that’s quickly disproven, sometimes he uncharacteristically sits in silence. Mind making up fake scenarios of your demise that could have been caused by him, his reputation, his enemies. He has a silent vow to himself to protect you first with his immortal life, no matter the cost and punishment he may endure.

An uncomfortable fear of having something of value so precious, so fragile is almost to much to handle. He doesn’t look down upon you mortal or not, but he will still fret for your safety. He’s so tired of losing things he holds dear, and after not having that feeling for centuries before you came along, he almost gets so wrapped up in the possibility of losing you, he loses sight that he has you right now.

He loves picking you up at random times, doesn’t need to be a situation where you need to be picked up he’ll just do it. No matter height or weight he loves seeing you shocked and giggling.

His most sensitive parts are definitely his tail and ears, maybe his nose too. If you kiss him from ear all across his cheek to his nose, he swears all his immortal lives end there from how his hearts pumping.

He does plan on marrying you, makes it very vocal too in the beginning to make sure you know what your committing to.

Loves when you comb and pick at his fur, don’t even get started on complementing it. He’ll easily sit between your legs for hours as you comb through the top of his head, getting rid of knots and such.

He wraps his tail absentmindedly when you stand near him. He doesn’t really even acknowledge it happening, it usually wraps around your ankle or thigh Or lazily around your hips.

Watches you as you sleep, not even in a creepy way he just has to take time to appreciate you for just your mere existence.

Spoils you with fruits, peaches especially of course, but he mixes it up here to there. Sometimes he just comes waltzing in with buckets if not wagons of ripe fruit from different regions.

When you hurriedly say you cannot eat that much before they wither, he’ll just laugh. Because he knows he can so whatever you leave over he finishes it off happily. But if your generous your free to share with the other demon monkeys on the island.

He likes carrying you in his arms while he rides his nimbus cloud.

You can point to random spots and he’ll happily zoom on over there to let you explore. Of course with him trailing closely behind you.

(I’m aware that in most tellings of journey to the west they say picking up a mortal from the ground is almost impossible, but I’m gonna dismiss that. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°))

He likes lounging around with you on slow afternoon’s cuddling and engorging in different types of luxuries.

He loves taking you to hot springs, and enjoying time there together relaxing. That or a near by waterfall he frequents.

If he sees something you may like he just snatches it, doesn’t really matter to him where he took it, half of the time he doesn’t know himself. As long as it is worthy to be appreciated by you.

He takes naps on you, just asks you to lay down and then lays on your chest or stomach and falls into a comatose state for a good while.

★ ✵ ★

That’s all I have for right now, I hope these were enjoyable to read!.

( ⸝⸝•ᴗ•⸝⸝ )੭⁾⁾

[beginningofwonderland]

Angel - Park Seonghwa

Pairing: domSeonghwaxfemReader

Genre: smut (MINORS DNI!)

Word count: 5.2k

Summary: During a gaming session with your best friend San you admit to him that your boyfriend Seonghwa is too soft to you. You complain about his angel persona and want him to fuck you right instead. To your demise, Seonghwa accidentally listened in on your conversation and is now determined to make all your wishes come true.

Warnings: establishing a safeword but NO USE of that safeword, rough sex, oral sex (both receiving), deep-throating, choking, unprotected sex (don't do this!!), creampie, dumbification

Seonghwa littered soft kisses from your jaw to your lips and smiled at you like the human incarnation of sunshine.

"You feel good now, baby?" he asked with a smirk.

"Yes, I do angel." You nuzzled your head into his shoulder in response.

You did feel good. After a cuddly makeout session that had turned steamy in the laziness of a saturday morning Seonghwa had just finished eating you out for what felt like hours. He was an expert with his tongue, making you come multiple times until you had to pull him away from your sensitive core because he would go on forever if he could.

But still you felt like something was missing. With the way he always held onto you like a delicate flower, his fingers merely ghosting over your skin. Sometimes you wished for them to just grab you, to leave you bruised and crying beneath him until you couldn't take any more.

You and Seonghwa were still a relatively new thing and you were sure he had this cute little image of you inside his head that you were afraid to destroy. But deep down inside, you just wanted him to treat you more roughly when it came to the bedroom.

"I'll make us some coffee," he pulled you from your dirty thoughts and you released him from your hug so that he could get out of bed. When he left the room, you sighed. You had tried to give him hints before, telling him to go harder, moving your own hands on top of his to squeeze your skin, but he continued treating you like fine porcelain.

You soon got dressed and joined Seonghwa to make some breakfast. You two shared pancakes in the morning sunlight that fell through the wall length windows in Seonghwa's apartment as you talked about your plans for the day.

"I have a meeting with Hongjoong and then I'll have to run some errands today," Seonghwa explained. "I won't be back before dinner."

"Then I'll meet up with San online for some gaming later. We haven't been able to play in ages." Since San had moved to the other end of town, you two met online more often than in real life and usually used that time to catch up on each other and discuss the hottest gossip. You two had been best friends for years and you had actually met Seonghwa through him.

"That sounds good. Say 'hi' to him from me."

You finished your breakfast and Seonghwa soon left for his appointment with Hongjoong. You started off your day slowly and watched some Netflix before taking a shower and getting dressed. You usually stayed at Seonghwa's place over the weekend since he had the bigger and much nicer apartment out of the two of you.

He even let you make your own little gaming area in his office room where you could play when you stayed at his place. You got yourself a cold drink and finally settled into his comfortable office chair to go online and play with San. He had agreed to meet up only minutes after you had texted him. He usually stayed in on the weekends anyway.

"Hey Sannie," you greeted him through your headset as soon as you joined the call with him.

"Helloooo," he answered in a bright spirit.

You two started setting up the game and soon joined the first match while exchanging small talk. It was a comfortable routine for both of you. Somehow talking to each other while busying yourself with a game just made everything easier. Before you even noticed, you two were already playing for hours.

"So how is it really going right now, San?" You asked during an annoyingly long loading screen. "How is living with Wooyoung?"

A deep sigh was hearable through San's microphone. "He's being Wooyoung, like always. But lately he got into cooking so at least I get meals now to compensate for his annoying ass."

You laughed at his whiny tone. You knew how the two friends were around each other; always teasing and annoying each other but still inseparable. "Just don't fight over a stupid puzzle again. I'm sick of finding pieces whenever I visit you two."

San chuckled at the memory of how he and Wooyoung had thrown puzzle pieces at each other in a petty fight. "And how is it going with Seonghwa?" he asked in return.

"Good," you answered. Your mind couldn't help but wander to the worries you had had just this morning.

"Oh god what is it?" San asked in a panicked tone.

"What do you mean? I said good!" You tried to defend yourself.

"Yeah, but you should've heard yourself saying it. Terrible would've sounded nicer."

You groaned in frustration. You didn't mean to make it sound that bad.

"What is it?" San pressed on. "Cause I swear to god if he treats you badly I will collect Wooyoung and we will kick his ass-"

"He treats me very well, don't worry," you interrupted San before he could get any more dumb ideas.

"You sure?" the man asked sceptically. The next match finally started and you didn't even realize your rambling as you answered him.

"Yeah, in fact he is a literal angel. He already knows all my favourite candies and brings me some everytime he visits the store. He always lets me choose what to watch even if he hates the cheesy horror movies I like. I mean he basically let me turn his office into a gaming room for me."

"I'm happy to hear that. But what is the problem then?" San asked with confusion evident in his voice. "Does he not fuck you right?"

You didn't want to admit to it but the prolonged silence spoke volumes. San laughed at the other end of the call.

"Damn, and I always thought he had it in him. He acts like he does at least. You two do fuck, right?"

San couldn't see but you blushed helplessly in front of the monitor. "Yes, we do. God this is embarrassing."

"How is this embarrassing? You always told me about your dates before Seonghwa. In detail," San argued with you while quite literally saving your life in the match you couldn't concentrate on any more.

"That was fine because you didn't know any of those guys. But you've known Seonghwa longer than I do and this is... embarrassing."

"You're being annoying. You can talk to me Y/n. Maybe I can help," he tried to coerce you into spitting out your problem. "Also I'm nosy. So what's the problem?"

What you didn't notice was that Seonghwa had already returned to the apartment. He had made an effort to open the door as silently as possible. He knew you would still be gaming with San and wanted to surprise you with a self-cooked dinner after you were done. He had sped through all his errands, so that he could come home earlier.

After returning he couldn't resist to check in on you for a second. He wanted to make sure you hadn't noticed his early return and also get another glance at you before preparing dinner. You always looked so cute at his desk with your headset and controller.

He cracked open the door to his office carefully. As expected, you were completely focussed on the game and didn't notice a thing. His eyes flitted over your tight crop top and the sweat shorts you were wearing in the heat and his mind already started wandering places at the sight of your glistening skin. What he didn't expect was what you were talking about.

"The problem is that he treats me a little to well."

Is she talking about me?

Seonghwa was stunned into his place. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop but he couldn't resist staying a little longer to hear what else you had to say.

"I think you'll need to elaborate on that," San replied audibly confused.

"He treats me like a porcelain doll!" you finally admitted. "I think he has this image of me as his cute, innocent girl that he doesn't want to hurt. But I really wished he would just fuck me without holding back."

San chuckled at the other end of the call. Meanwhile Seonghwa was frozen into his spot. He couldn't believe his own ears. He would've never guessed that this was what you wanted and was surprised by your words.

But more than that he felt a burning heat spread through his whole body as he processed what you said. You wanted him to have his way with you without holding back. The thought made him dizzy.

Ever since you two were together that was exactly what he had been doing: holding back. He thought that you deserved someone that loved you tenderly and carefully. So he tried his best to be that person.

"That sounds like you should just talk to him," San replied after some pondering.

" know," you said. "I want to tell him but I don't know how. It's kind of hard to bring up..."

Seonghwa swallowed hard as he felt bad that you were afraid to speak up to him. You were right. He didn't want to hurt you because he couldn't stand the thought of you hurting. But now that he knew that was exactly what you wanted... he felt every little bit of self control leave his body. He left his place at the door before he could fuck you right there in his office chair and closed the door silently behind him. He had different plans with you.

"I'm afraid he might not like it," you shyly added to San in the silence.

"Trust me," San snickered. "He is heads over heels for you. He won't push you away. Also I happen to know Seonghwa well enough to assure you, that's exactly what he likes."

You smiled at San's reassuring words and you two continued your game. Talking to him had actually made you feel better. You planned on talking to Seonghwa as soon as the opportunity came up.

----------------------------------

You put the controller back into the drawer which Seonghwa kept free for only you and stretched your limbs after getting out of the chair. You had played longer than expected but it was nice to catch up with San.

Just as you made your way into the living room to maybe watch some more Netflix until Seonghwa returned, you heard some rumbling in the kitchen. The noise took you by surprise and you got scared for a second, thinking it might be an intruder.

"Hwa?" you called out carefully and wandered towards the kitchen. Your heartbeat quickened when noone answered you.

You turned the corner only to see Seonghwa deeply in thought apparently concentrating on the stir fry in front of him. You relaxed as you saw him standing in the kitchen and not a robber.

"You're home already! Why didn't you come say hi to me?" you asked cutely and wrapped your arms around his torso careful not to interrupt his cooking.

He looked down at you almost like in a haze and it took a few seconds before he answered.

"I didn't want to interrupt your gaming session so I thought I'd cook us some dinner."

"That's very nice of you," you said and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. He really did treat you so well. You should talk to him after dinner.

But Seonghwa still seemed to be caught up in something. His eyes stared into the frying pan blankly and his hand stirred in a robotic motion. You eyed him carefully, wondering what could be going on in his head.

"Is everything okay, Hwa?" you asked him worriedly.

In response Seonghwa seemed to snap out of his focus and smiled at you: "Of course, sweetheart."

But his answer sounded posed, his voice a little too melodious as he tried sounding happy. You let it slide for now, not wanting to push him, maybe you were over-interpreting his behaviour.

What you couldn't know was that Seonghwa had spent every single second since he heard you talking to San imagining the things he wanted to do to you. His hand moved without him even noticing as he prepared the meal but his mind was all over the places he wanted to fuck you in now that he knew how much you wanted him to ruin you.

All of the possibilities clouded his mind and he found himself almost a little mad at you for not speaking up to him. All he wanted was for you to be happy but you would have to let him.

Both of you set the table and Seonghwa finished cooking dinner. You two settled down in an unusual silence as he started to fill your plate.

"How was your meeting with Hongjoong?" you asked, trying to get him to talk.

"Good," Seonghwa answered once again, his mind miles away from the meeting with his friend. In fact he couldn't even remember what they had talked about anymore.

His short reply worried you even more. "Are you sure, you're okay, Hwa? I feel like there's something you're not telling me."

Before he could hold himself back Seonghwa huffed out a breath of air and looked at you with a glint in his eyes. The intensity his gaze suddenly held took you by surprise.

"You think there's something I am not telling you?" he asked you back with a cocked up eyebrow. He was still standing while you had already sat down and his hands now came down onto the table to support himself as he looked at you with dark eyes.

 A cold shiver ran over your skin by the insinuation of his words. What was he talking about?

"What do you mean, angel?" you asked him in confusion.

Seonghwa slowly made his way over to you, his eyes fixed on yours like you were his prey. He stopped only inches before you before bending down to be at eye level with you. You could feel his hot breath on your lips.

"Angel. That's the problem about me isn't it? I'm too nice to you aren't I?" he asked with a pitying voice. He wasn't actually mad at you, but your question had stirred the tiniest bit of anger within him that mixed with all the held back sexual desire he had for you after overhearing your talk to San.

You couldn't answer him. How did he find out about what you had only just admitted to your best friend? Every sound got stuck in the back of your throat as Seonghwa stared at you so intensely. The way he hovered above you excited you wildly.

Your boyfriend seemed to take pity on you as he answered your unasked question: "I wanted to see if you were still playing with San when I overheard your little conversation."

A rush of embarrassment ran through you and you lowered your head to hide the blush on your cheeks. But at the same time you got excited. Judging from his behaviour he must have overheard the most important part. When he laid a finger under your chin to lift your head back up, you were already putty in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Hwa. I swear I wanted to talk to you about it," you started apologizing before he even asked you to. An amused grin spread over Seonghwa's handsome features and a small chuckle left him.

"And when exactly, princess? After I eat you out again for hours and you tell me you feel perfect? Did you lie to me too?"

He knew he was getting cruel but the way your eyes widened and you looked at him through those puppy eyes, he was sure he was pushing exactly the right buttons. The panic in your eyes only added to the burning desire inside of him.

"No! I didn't lie to you, Seonghwa! You are so good with your tongue, please I'm sorry." You almost stumbled over your words, eager to calm down the flames behind his hungry eyes.

"Sorry for what exactly? Tell me and I might forgive you." He said those last words slowly, almost in a whisper. Like he wasn't really sure about the idea of forgiving you.

"I'm sorry for not telling you what I want."

"And what is it that you want?" A dangerous smirk spread on his face. He wanted you to say it. Wanted to hear your pretty little voice repeat the words you had spoken to San before.

"I want you to be more rough with me," you almost whispered in admittance as you couldn't help but get shy under his stare.

"What did you say, baby? I couldn't hear you." His hand tightened it's grip on your chin and you almost moaned, already arching your back a little under his touch.

"I want you to be more rough with me, Seonghwa," you repeated louder this time, eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

"No, no. Exactly what you said before, baby!"

You had to rummage through your memory for a second before you could recall the words, you had spoken to San before:

"I really want you to just fuck me without holding back."

"Good girl," he hummed out and you couldn't help but shudder. "Now was that so hard? You know I couldn't help but get a little mad at you for telling San but not me. But now that you already look so pliant for me I can't really hold a grudge."

You swallowed and looked at him expectantly.

"So I can have my way with you now, beautiful?" he asked eagerly, eyes darkening by the second.

"Please," you answered already desperate for him to touch you. You never knew Seonghwa could be this way, but his dominant behaviour already drove you to insanity. If you had known, you would've told him way earlier about your desires.

"Then there's just one more thing," his expression suddenly turned soft again. "I need you to choose a safe word in case I get too much for you. If I make you uncomfortable in any way I want you to stop me. Okay, baby?"

You nodded at him with warm eyes. He made you feel so incredible safe. "How about eavesdropping?"

"You really want me to punish you, don't you?" Seonghwa said in a low tone and lifted your chin just a tiny bit more to show you who was in charge.

"I'm sorry, I'm just joking. I'll go with..." Your eyes flitted across the room in search for a useful word: "sunset."

Seonghwa smiled at you: "Better." Then his eyes darkened again and the warm smile dropped from his face as he looked you up and down.

"You know what I always wanted to do with you?" he asked tauntingly, his thumb running over your bottom lip and his eyes following its trail.

You gave a small shake of your head to show him you didn't know the answer. A smirk tugged on one end of his lips in response.

"You know how much I love it when you're giving me blowjobs, don't you? But I always wanted to fuck your pretty little mouth and make you choke on my cock until you can't breath anymore."

His direct words sent a jolt of electricity through your body and you couldn't stop a moan escaping your lips. His eyes flitted up to yours in surprise at the sound.

"So eager already? Then how about we make that your punishment for not telling me what you actually want, princess?"

You nodded quickly: "Please."

He huffed at you. "Please what, baby? It looks like I need to teach you how to talk properly from now on."

"Please choke me on your cock," you replied shamelessly, eyes blown wide as you stared at him from beneath.

Seonghwa groaned at your words and suddenly he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you down to the floor on your knees. He observed you cautiously, worried he might be too rough with you but the fire in your eyes only lit up more as he manhandled you onto the ground.

"Get those pants off of me unless you want me to edge you all night, will you, baby?"

Your hands scrambled to open his belt and jeans in an embarrassingly fast tempo. As you pulled his pants and underwear down, you were surprised to see that he was already fully hard. You would have never thought that your little talk had already turned him on so much.

You grabbed his length eagerly and looking up at him through hooded eyes you started slowly licking along the tip. Seonghwa's eyes fluttered in response and his hand weaved into your hair, to get a firm grip on your head.

"If I were you I wouldn't tease me that much," he grunted out as you continued your kitten licks on his tip. The dark glow in his eyes made your heart race and you quickly took him fully into your mouth.

Seonghwa was rather long and you couldn't fit him into you completely without choking. You did your best to take him as deep as you could but you already felt him hit the back of your throat.

"Am I too big for my small little girl?" he asked tauntingly, pushing you onto him just a tiny bit deeper, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. You never knew you would enjoy the feeling of his cock pressing down your throat so much. But maybe it was just the general idea of him using you like he pleased that turned you on so much that your panties were already soaking.

Holding tightly onto your hair, he started fucking himself into your mouth. Seonghwa started off slowly but as you met his thrusts eagerly he sped up his tempo quickly. Soon your eyes fell shut as choked moans reverberated through your throat along his cock. Both your hands grabbed onto his thighs for some kind of hold.

Your whiny noises and the eagerness which with you sucked his dick surprised Seonghwa. He never expected you to be so into it, but as he watched you fall apart on his cock without even getting pleasured yourself, he soon started throbbing in your mouth with an impending orgasm.

Tugging firmly on your hair, he removed your lips from his cock and watched a line of spit trail down your chin as you opened your eyes. The fucked out look on your face almost made him paint your face in cum but he managed to hold back as he bend down to your face and shared a messy kiss with you.

"Didn't know you were such a hungry little slut," he said with glinting eyes before pulling you up from your knees.

You almost stumbled into his arms, your legs not quiet awake from being in the same position for too long. Seonghwa's strong arms caught you and pressed your body to his own for a short moment. The warmth of the embrace made you smile. His grasp held an intimacy that let your heart flutter in almost unbearably strong affection.

"Now you better hurry onto the bed before I ruin you on the carpet right here," Seonghwa rasped into your ear before shoving you off of him once again.

The strong command once again made electricity surge through your body and you hurried to the bedroom. As soon as you sat yourself on the bed and faced back towards Seonghwa he was already in front of you. His pupils blown wide in a state of desire that you had never seen him in before. He grabbed your face harshly between both his hands and shared a deep kiss with you as he hovered above you.

Your hands wound into his raven locks in response, sharing breathless moans as your tongues clashed with one another. One of Seonghwa's hands wandered down to the hem of your shirt and reading his thoughts you interrupted the kiss for him to quickly dispose of your shirt. Left only in a lace bralette and your tiny shorts Seonghwa devoured the sight of you.

"You were right, doll. You do look like such a innocent, fragile little thing to me." His eyes now landed on yours again. "That makes me want to ruin you even more."

He roughly pushed you down onto the bed before crawling over you. As he buried his lips in your neck you could feel his throbbing cock rubbing against your thigh, making you whimper under his touch. All you wanted was for him to touch you but Seonghwa had his own plans with you.

Sucking harshly on your skin he started leaving marks all over your neck. "You like that? Want me to mark you all over?" he asked in between two hickies.

"Yes, please Seonghwa. Make me yours."

Your enthusiasm only spurred him on. His hands started squeezing your breast now, playing with your nipples through the thin fabric covering them. You couldn't help arching your back and trying to rub yourself on his thigh to get some kind of friction where you most wanted it.

In an instant, Seonghwa's hands rushed down to your hips, pinning them against the bed. "Did I allow you to do that, doll? I thought you wanted me to have my way with you?" His eyes were down right intimidating as he looked at you beneath him.

"I'm sorry, Seonghwa. I'll do anything you want."

A small chuckle left him at your desperate response. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

"Strip," was all he said then and within a heartbeat you started removing your shorts and panties, followed by your bra. In the meantime Seonghwa also rid himself of his shirt, leaving you both naked.

He scooted down on the bed, slowly spreading your legs so he could lower his upper body in between your thighs. Looking up at you through his predator-like eyes, he made a show of dragging his fingers slowly over the skin of your inner thighs. When he started placing delicate kisses all around where you needed him the most you started shaking beneath him.

"Please, Seonghwa. Please just touch me."

"Want me here?" he asked tauntingly, starting to gently rub your clit with his middle finger.

"Fuck, yes!" The tiny amount of pleasure already had your lashes fluttering.

"But you want more right? Want me to destroy my little girl and have my way with her?"

You nodded frantically, not being able to bring out anything but whimpers beneath Seonghwa's grasp.

"Well don't make me stop now since you wanted this," Seonghwa said before burying his tongue between your legs.

You really never lied to him when you told him he was insanely good at eating you out. As his tongue circled around your clit, two of his fingers buried themself in your cunt and you closed your eyes in pure pleasure as he started pumping them in and out of you.

Usually he would work you up gently with only one, but after your confessions from today he was way rougher with you now. As a result you felt yourself being thrown towards the edge much faster. Your pleasure already starting to build up as his pace only quickened.

"I'm gonna cum," you warned him through heavy breaths.

But either Seonghwa was too lost between your legs or he didn't care because he just kept on lapping at your core when your high finally crashed down over you. You moaned out shamelessly and as your hips started trembling, Seonghwa pinned them down firmly with his arm.

"Please," you pleaded at him to give you a break but he didn't show any mercy to you.

"I'll make you come as often as I want," he spits at you as his thumb takes over his tongue in pleasuring your sensitive clit. "This is what you asked for, baby."

A mad smile spread on his face that let shivers run over your entire body before he lowered his mouth done again and buried his tongue inside of you. You had to close your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. All of a sudden, the overstimulation was taken over by lust again and you reeled towards another orgasm faster than you had ever done before.

"Fuck," you moaned before a few more firm circles of Seonghwa's thumb pushed you over the edge again. This time you didn't tremble but went full on limp beneath him. Your ears were ringing as the intense feeling rushed through your body. Faintly, you notice Seonghwa finally detaching from your core.

"Look at you all messed up and I haven't even fucked you yet," he snickered as he crawled on top of you. Seonghwa let his fingers graze over your cheek, taking in the beauty of your fucked out expression.

"You still feeling good?" he asked then in a slightly softer tone. But as soon as you mumbled a weak "yes" he was back to his demon self.

"I'll make you feel even better then," he said before slowly burying his hard cock inside of you.

At this point you were dripping wet but you still gasped at his size and the feeling of him finally filling you up. "Please, fuck me, Hwa!" you managed to beg him through big doe eyes and fluttering lashes.

Seonghwa moaned in return before starting to pound into you in a steady rhythm. He didn't go too fast but every single thrust hit you deep inside and soon you found yourself clinging onto his arms, as your life depended on it while he rearranged your insides.

Never had you ever imagined that asking Seonghwa to be rougher with you would give you this amount of pleasure. He was everything you had ever wanted and more.

As his pace increased you felt your head starting to swim more and more. Any coherent thought was lost to the way his hips snapped into you and his heavy breaths played like music in your ears.

"I love you, Hwa," you suddenly confessed through high pitch moans. You told him that quite often, but with the way you were buried beneath him, completely at his mercy, the words stirred something inside Seonghwa.

"Fuck, baby. Me too." His thrusts turned sloppy for a few seconds before he recovered a little. "You look so fucking perfect like this. I won't ever hold back on ruining you again, I promise."

You simply whimpered in response, unable to form a coherent sentence. Seonghwa lowered himself down to catch your lips in a desperate kiss while keeping up with his thrusts. Both of you were breathing heavy, but you still clung to each others touch as if your life depended on it.

"I'm close," Seonghwa moaned into your mouth between open-mouthed kisses. As his release neared, his eyes turned softer and he caressed your cheek with his thumb adoringly.

"Please come inside me," you pleaded him.

His eyes fluttered at your request. "Anything you want, baby."

And with that Seonghwa stilled deep inside you, groaning as his cum spurted into you. As soon as his cock started twitching you came one more time. This time it felt warm and comforting as Seonghwa held you so tightly and stayed deep within you until you stopped trembling. You wanted to stay like this forever: him buried deep beneath you and nothing on your mind but pure bliss.

When you finally recovered a little, you caught his lips again for a few more lazy kisses. "You were fucking amazing, angel," you praised him in between kisses.

"All this and you still call me angel?" he joked but you knew he didn't mind. His eyes only held love and adoration as he stared down into yours.

Slowly, he pulled out of you and laid down beside you before pulling you into his chest to rest. "I really wish you had told me earlier. We missed out on a lot."

"I don't mind catching up," you answered with a chuckle.

I wrote this over a long time span so I'm not too happy with it but I hope you still enjoy!

[hells-wasabii]

I’m shamelessly asking for some Carmilla Carmine x fem!reader where reader gets nearly killed during extermination day, maybe severely hurt kind of thing cuz I’m a sucker for angst

A/N: And I am shamelessly answering this wholeheartedly Can I just say that I love Carmilla?? And one can never have enough angst. I went ahead and decided to make it a drabble

A/n's A/N: I came back after finishing this, i really didn't mean for it to get so long. It's not a drabble anymore, it's a short fic. the word count is nearly three times what i usually allot for my drabbles.

Character: Carmilla

Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader injured during extermination, Angst, Fluff)

All it takes is one second. Time meant everything during the annual extermination. If you drop your guard, let yourself get distracted, it could mean certain death. This was something that Carmilla had been extra diligent in teaching her daughters, and something that she had always reminded you, her love, her heart, of constantly.

You would always offer a soft smile of reassurance, pressing a kiss to the overlord's hand.

But things don't always go as planned, do they?

No one expected to get separated.

There had been an explosion that had taken out most of the city block. Some sinner trying to put up a fight before their inevitable demise, her daughters informed her after the fact. She had found Odette and Clara easily, both on the same side of the blast as she had been, but she had lost sight of you. You hadn't been caught in the blast, she knew that for sure. You were durable enough for something as measly as that to not be of much effect, anyhow.

But the fact that she didn't know where you had gone made her nervous. No one was truly safe during the exterminations, only hellborns and the king.

Her blood ran cold when your scream met her ears, her head snapping in the direction.

No.

Carmilla was in motion before her mind could catch up. The arms dealer instinctively ran through the streets littered with death and destruction, Clara and Odette calling after her. It wasn't like their mother to act so impulsively.

Turning the corner, there you were, lying in a slowly growing pool of blood. The arms dealer deflated upon seeing you in such a state. If only she had gotten here sooner. Luckily, the exorcist has gone. Likely to chase down some other damned soul like an animal, she thought bitterly. Skidding to a stop, she dropped to her knees at your side.

You were in a bad state, disheveled, bruised, bloodied. The worst of it appeared to be a rather large stab wound just above your hip, likely from some sort of spear.

But you were still breathing, nonetheless. You could still be saved. Hope bloomed in Carmilla's chest, as she pushed aside your blouse to better reveal the worst of your injuries.

"Girls," Carmilla called out once she was sure that it was safe for them to follow.

As she checked you for other injuries her daughters knelt by her side.

"Mother, here." Clara sounded as frantic as Carmilla felt. The overlord briefly turned to her daughter, surprised to find her taking off her coat to offer her. "To apply pressure," her daughter clarified. Her heart swelled at the action, accepting the coat and pressing it to your wound.

"Look!" Odette called out, and out of the corner of her eye, Carmilla saw her pointing to the sky. "The angels are retreating!"

"She's right!" Clara chimed in, placing a hand on her mother's shoulder, "We should get her back home, then we can tend to the wound properly."

Carmilla had never felt prouder of her daughters, they truly had grown into exceptional young women. She made a mental note to properly thank the both of them once things had settled.

But home was too far away, they would never make it there before you bled out. Lady luck was on your side as the four of you hadn't been too far from one of their safe houses, however, they needed to move quickly before you lost too much blood.

The next hour and a half were a blur. The moment they had unlocked the door to the safe house the Carmines got to work

Your wounds were cleaned and dressed. Carmilla herself had been the one to wash off the blood and dirt that caked your skin and you were laid up in bed. Odette and Clara had left once they were sure you would recover, choosing to give you and their mother space.

The arms dealer couldn't help feeling partially responsible. She thought if only she had been more diligent, and kept you close to her, maybe you wouldn't be left in such a state. The realization hit her, hard. She could have lost you.

"Carmilla?" your voice pulled the overlord from her thoughts. You were awake! In an instant she was by your side, taking your hand in hers.

"It's okay darling, Everything is alright now." You don't answer, at least not with your words. instead, with a grateful smile turning up the corners of your lips, you gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She couldn't help but return the smile, relieved. Leaning down, she pressed a kiss to your temple.

"Funny, for a moment there, I thought I'd somehow made it to heaven. Mistook you for an angel," you managed out a strained laugh, though you immediately regretted it when a sharp pain shot through your lower abdomen. Your smile returned, however, as Carmilla couldn't help but roll her eyes. But you had met your mark, the arms dealer finally let the tension leave her body.

"Mi amore."

"Yes, Carmilla?" You at first thought that the arms dealer was going to scold you for making light of the situation. You never would have expected the next words out of her mouth. She breathed out, gaze softening, her request was barely above a whisper.

"Marry me."

[totaly-obsessed]

Rory

Leah Williamson x reader

-> A teenage squabble over a plant turns into a heartwarming symbol of family as two best friends prepare to embark on the journey of motherhood together.

-> Happy (a little late) Birthday @alotofpockets!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

“What the fuck is that?”

“Leah Williamson, Language! Or I will call Amanda!” Your mum’s voice was shrill as she scolded a thirteen-year-old Leah for her cursing. Leah just had a smug smirk on her face, she got her potty mouth from her mum, who always acted outraged when her eldest swore in front of other people.

“That is my favorite plant, Lee! My sister gave it to me.”

Your best friend didn’t even have the audacity to look guilty or lie. “Well that’s fucking hideous thing, I’ll tell you that.”

“Leah!” Oh shit. She just got first-named.

“W- Well you can’t tell me that’s a pretty plant! What is it even called? Tree Tumbo?

Now that she saw the tears brimming your eyes she knew she had fucked up. Her hand that had flown, trying to defend herself slowly sank.

“No, it’s called Dracaena. But I named it Rory, short for Aurora.”

Just last week Leah and you had talked about names for future children, or rather your future children. The blonde was already sure that she liked girls, so kids were out of sight for now. Aurora was a name that stuck with her though, and you had promised to name your first kid Aurora if your husband would agree.

“Oh… Darling, I’m so so-”

“I think you should go home now.” Your teary eyes nearly killed the teen, but with one last kiss on your forehead, she left the room, saying goodbye to your very confused mother.

—

“No way.”

“Yes, Leah! I am not leaving her behind!”

The blonde defender tried to barricade the door and deny you access, but with just a gentle nudge she moved, even picking up the heavy plant for you.

“I can’t believe you’re taking that fucking thing with you.”

After that eventful first day of having Rory, Leah had properly apologized with chocolate, flowers, and a hand-knitted little sweater for a plant pot. She obviously didn't make it herself. God, that would have been a disaster. Her Granny, Berny, had made it for her.

“Well she’s my daughter and as long as I am alive I will take her with me. Either deal with it or go.”

Leah was stunned standing in the hallways “OH! You wouldn’t dare, darling! What would you do without me? Who carries the grocery bags for you?”

“You haven’t carried anything yet!”

The two of you had just signed your first senior contract with Arsenal for a year - and to live closer to the facilities you were moving into a house with Emma Mitchell and Emma Byrne. Both of them were experienced players and filled with excitement they had agreed to take two young talents in.

But seeing you call a plant your daughter, and Leah hating it with such passion surely was a sight to see and just a teaser for the coming year.

—

“You can’t be serious?”

Leah had been busy over the day, doing media stuff. So with having the new house all to yourself, you brought Rory back in, much to your girlfriend's demise.

She had just re-signed her arsenal contract for the foreseeable future while you had signed with the London City Lionesses last year, working part-time as a librarian at your closest school - a dream of yours.

After multiple failed relationships with men, you had come to the realization that the real thing was right in front of you, in the form of your best friend.

Now you had moved out of the old, small apartment into your very own first home, and Leah apparently liked to ignore the time plans you had made. So now you stood there, Rory still in your hands as your girlfriend got out of the car.

“I thought we talked about this Darling!”

Quickly she had walked over, taking the now huge plant out of your hands, and carried it into the house.

“Where do you want it then?”

She already knew that you couldn’t leave Rory behind, you had looked so sad when you promised her not to take the Dracaena with you.

“Next to the couch please!”

“Of course darling…”

—

The nerves picked at you as you made a little sign with ‘big sister’ on it. It shouldn’t be that much of a surprise to Leah that you are pregnant, the road here was long after all. But you would never know.

Rory would officially be a big sister in the making, in just a few more months, and then a little baby would share the place with your loved plant.

After leaning the sign next to the ultrasound and the pregnancy test you sat back down at the dining table, now you just needed to wait until your wife was home.

It was as if you were in a trance, looking at your book but not actually taking anything in from it when the blonde entered your home.

“I’m home darling!” Her first act of service once entering was greeting you with a kiss - but she was a little taken aback by your nervous expression. You had been home the entire day, what could have happened?

“I’m gonna shower, my love. I’ll leave the door open for ya!”

Hastily you stood up, pulling Leah back by her arm, ignoring the cocky smirk on her beautiful face. “Can you water Rory please?”

Her nose scrunched up in confusion. You, letting her near your beloved plant? unheard of, but she’d take it any day if it would make you happy.

“Yeah! Sure!"

Your wife nearly skipped through the living room, a half-full watering can in one hand, a müsli riegel in the other. 

“How much does she need?”

No answer.

“Darling, What’s up? You’ve been we- Oh.”

She saw it.

the watering can and food forgotten she picked up the hints you had positioned, looking at the positive test and the picture.

“It worked! We’re gonna be mothers!”

[ozzgin]

Hai, beloved....❤️✨

I've liked your blog for a long time and I came here to make a request With the six Handsome Yokai, muehehe ~

With fem reader who is the wife of the Yokai (separately) and is a woman who turns out to be a beautiful and elegant Oni please...❤️💋

Of course! My apologies for the delay, it always takes some time to get back into the mood for a certain story. This will be a yokai harem week hopefully. :D I'm very glad you're still around, Strawberry. 💕

Yandere! Yokai Harem AU: Oni! Reader

Featuring the six demon boyfriends - now husbands! - and a female oni reader.

Content: female reader, monster romance

[Main Story] [Character Guide] [Boyfriend Headcanons]

Murasaki

Murasaki needs time to accustom himself to any change in the relationship. You've gotten so close that you now wear his wedding ring, but strangely enough, he will be somewhat distant and shy in the first month after marriage. Mind you, he married you specifically because he cannot envision his life without your presence in it. Yet every time he glances at you, his cheeks burn in embarrassment, and he quickly looks away with a huff. It feels different. You're as beautiful as always, except now you bear the title of his wife. It's an intimacy he's never experienced before, making him nervous. Murasaki does not like uncertainty. How do people get used to it? Additionally, he will be extra protective and particularly caustic towards potential threats. You've had to hold him back from slashing a mere passerby once. "What're you looking at a married woman for? The road is straight ahead, asshole!"

Kiritsubo

Kiritsubo has always been a clingy and affectionate partner and you didn't think it could get any worse. Then you got married. On one hand, it has certainly helped his struggle of feeling insecure and inadequate. Can you blame him? You're stunning, often catching the eye of demons and humans alike. It was difficult to imagine someone like you would be pleased to have him as a partner. Yet here you are by his side, wearing the ring he's given you to tie the knot. He couldn't be any happier. A newfound sense of pride has flooded his entire being. Perhaps he is meant to be yours, after all. On the other hand, he's glued to your side even more so than before. You're married, which means you're basically one, right? It means you can be even more intimate. "Oh, you're preparing a bath for us? I can't wait!"

Suma

"Beauty and the Beast" is a fitting comparison for your relationship with Suma, and not just appearance-wise. You're elegant and well-mannered, while the yokai man is, well...nonchalant is one way to describe it. He is loud, carefree, and unapologetically violent. He loves fighting almost as much as he loves you. In the eyes of most people, you're an unusual pair. Despite everything, Suma can be very gentle, especially when it comes to you. And if he does get too enthusiastic, you're thankfully not as frail as one would believe. You are a powerful oni, after all. He's the kind of guy that will shout "This is my wife" so the whole perimeter knows not to mess with you.

Yuugiri

Yuugiri might just be the perfect match for someone of your status. He is equally good-looking, with androgynous features and distinguished manners. A perfect, charming husband according to many. He knows exactly how to sweep you off your feet and loves to spoil you with compliments. The snake yokai is very proud to have you as his wife. The downside to this is that he can be extremely jealous. If he suspects someone is trying to flirt with you, know that he is already planning their demise. He'll flash you a confident smile while pondering ways to torment the bastard. Don't worry, he will be equally ruthless if someone tries to get close to him instead.

Sakaki

Ah, Sakaki. Your very own gloomy husband, plagued by doubt and fear. Once again, an intriguing pair to outsiders. The depressed, melancholic yokai and his gorgeous, bright oni wife. Yet this is the very reason the demon has fallen in love with you: you're the light in his darkness, the hope in his despair. He proposed to you in the way most expected of him: a ring in one hand, and a noose in the other. "It's you for eternity, or death. You may seal my fate." Life with him won't change much after tying the knot. Although he might get a little more confident now that you have made things official. "Excuse me, you're flirting with my tomb partner. We'll be sharing a coffin one day; you don't stand a chance."

Sekiya

Sekiya will take forever to propose to you, mostly out of fear. Despite your best attempts to reassure him of your love, he is still very much crippled by the fear of rejection. What if you say no? What if you change your mind at the very last moment? You're an alluring, charismatic oni that could easily find someone better than him. His chances are slim. Thankfully it will tone down once you're officially married. He might even come out of his shell and dare to be a little more assertive. "That's MY ring on her finger, j-just so you know", he'll warn, proudly. (It was a jewelry maker asking you what style you prefer)

[thelittlestoflives]

Burning for You

this quite literally came to me in a dream soooo i had to write it!! just a lil silly drabble about the sweetest fire boy (not proofread IM SORRY)

afab reader, uses of YN

portgas d ace x strawhat!reader

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it's pretty steamy so i'm gonna say NSFW MDNI but it's not tooo explicit

wc: 1.5k

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The building exploded, bricks and debris flying through the air and smashing through anything in its path. You barely had time to gape in disbelief before you saw your crew scattering in different directions. Of course, this is how the ‘stealth’ plan went. 

Luffy’s brother, Ace, was staying with the crew for a while and the two of you had most definitely been making eyes at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking. You were staying on an island when the crew had discovered some nefarious goings-on, and would you really be the Strawhats if you all didn’t try and right these wrongs? The plan was to sneak into the suspected building, scope it out, and then figure out the intricacies once you all knew its layout. The plan was not to blow the damn building up.

“Quick!” Ace sprinted past you, grabbing your hand and pulling you behind him. 

“Was that you?” You yelled at him, referring to the building’s demise.

He flashed a grin over his shoulder at you, confirming the answer as you both ran through the unfamiliar streets. 

Eventually, you stopped in an alleyway, breathing heavily.

You threw a glare at him. “I don’t recall ‘blowing up the building’ as the course of action, Ace.”

He simply threw a smile your way. “But didn’t that make it much more fun?”

“Oh, okay. So your idea of fun is, I don’t know, terrorism?” 

“Pfft. They deserved it. The bastards inside were up to no good. It’s not exactly my fault they had highly flammable objects in there.”

You groaned and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I can’t believe we sent Fire Fist himself into a flammable building. I guess we have nobody to blame but ourselves for that one.” You looked up to see his incredibly (cute) smug face brightly beaming at you.

“Exactly. So really, it’s all your fault,” he teased. 

“You really are Luffy’s brother,” you remarked, unable to stop your mouth from turning up. 

His smile grew. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Sure.”

You both began to walk out of the alley and back into the city as the fire brigade and island’s police ran past you to the inferno in the centre. You tried to look as nonchalant as possible as Ace walked without a care in the world beside you, arms up behind his head.

“I see you staring at me, you know,” he said. 

You splutter. “Sorry?”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“No, I wasn’t-”

“I see you staring because I’m staring at you,” you didn’t have to see his face to know exactly what kind of smile he wore. “You’re pretty damn cute.”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks. He stepped closer to you and draped an arm over your shoulders.

“And while we wait for the smoke to settle, if you’ll pardon the pun, I think we might as well enjoy the time we have alone together, don’t you?” 

“You’re shameless,” you manage to say, head spinning due to the close proximity. 

He laughed. “Maybe. But you’re too gorgeous to pass up on. What do you say, YN? Shall we make the most of it?”

You grumble at the compliment, and the butterflies in your stomach intensify. “What, uh, what did you have in mind?”

“Grab a drink somewhere? Get to know each other?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

“Great!” His arm moved from your shoulders and you found yourself missing the warm contact, but only temporarily as his hand found yours and your fingers interlocked. “I want to know how you ended up on my brother’s crew.” 

The bar Ace picked wasn’t one you would have chosen - slightly too ‘old man pub’ for your taste - but the drinks were cheap and there was hardly anyone inside, so you couldn’t complain too much. You both sat in a booth in the corner, shielded from any eyes that might look your way. The conversation flowed just as easily as the drinks you both threw back, and soon you were leaning over the table clutching your stomach in fits of laughter.

“You’re something else,” you choked out as you wiped the tears of laughter from your eyes. 

Ace had a wicked grin on his face. “You love it though, don’t you?”

“Presumptious.” 

“But true.”

You lean back in your seat and look at him only to find he was already looking at you. 

At some point in the conversation, Ace had moved closer to you, dangerously close. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin. 

He lifted his hand to hold your cheek, fingertips in your hair. 

“If you don’t want this to go any further, you have to say now, princess,” he murmured. “Because I don’t know how much self-control I’ll have.” 

“I… I don’t know, Ace,” you whisper. “I don’t normally do this sort of thing… I don’t want to just be some notch on your belt.” 

“Oh no, no, no, YN. You’re much more than that. I don’t do this sort of thing either. I’m not some hotshot ladies’ man who sleeps around whenever he can.” He moves his hand to brush over your lips to silence your response. “I know that’s what you think of me, it’s okay. But I need you to know that’s not who I am, yeah? You’re… breaking my resolve, that’s all.”  

Your eyes flutter at the closeness, the intimacy. “But, I’m on your brother’s crew. We couldn’t… I mean, we can’t…”

He raised an eyebrow, a cheeky glint in his eyes. “Says who?”

Oh, fuck it.

His lips were close enough that you barely had to move to crash yours against them. He grunted a little in surprise, but wrapped his arms around you, pulling you impossibly close. Your mouths moved in tandem, the kiss getting deeper and deeper. Your hands move to tangle in his hair, his hat now off his head and hanging by the strap around his neck. His skin was on fire underneath your touch, and he groaned slightly as your tongue entered his mouth. He pulled you onto his lap so that you were straddling him, neither of you caring that you were in some random bar. His hands clutched at your waist and grabbed at any part of you they could. It was desperate, messy, passionate. You could feel the hardness in his shorts under you as you began to gently grind on him, the kiss now sloppy as he panted into your mouth. Thank god the booth you were in was hidden. 

“YN…” He groaned as you pulled away to kiss his jaw and neck, sucking and nipping the skin lightly. “You’re teasing me.” 

“Want me to stop?” you whisper, biting his ear softly. 

He pulled your face away and held it in his hands, his pupils blown and cheeks red. “Not here, not like this,” he said lowly. “Something as beautiful as you needs to be devoured slowly, and not in some gross bar.”

You flushed at the compliment which pleased him greatly.

“Your room, tonight. We’ll finish what we started, yeah? Properly this time,” he pulled your face back to his and kissed you deeply. 

The two of you finished your drinks, in between kisses and touches, before slipping out of the bar and dancing through the streets, hand in hand. 

By the time you and Ace returned to the ship, it was dark out. He pressed some kisses to your face and you giggled, swatting him away as you didn’t want the crew to see.

When you pushed open the door to the kitchen you were immediately crashed into.

“YN!” Luffy’s excited voice called as he wrapped himself around you. “I’m so happy you’re my sister!”

For the second time that day, you splutter. “W-what?”

You didn’t miss the mischievous grins on your crew behind him. 

“Well, you and Ace are together, and he’s my brother, which means you’re my sister! Welcome to the family, sis!”

Ace burst into peals of laughter at the redness of your face. You glared at your crew behind Luffy, as this was obviously their doing. Once you and Ace failed to return to the ship when everyone else did, they put two and two together. 

“Oh, no, Luffy, I’m not… We’re not… It’s not like…”

Ace slung his arm around your shoulder and kissed the side of your head. “Yeah, welcome to the family, YN.”

You grumbled, but couldn’t find it in you to actually be mad. It was rather sweet after all. Whoever told your Captain about you and his brother would suffer your wrath eventually. For now, you indulge in silliness and love and count down the minutes until everyone is in bed and Ace can come to yours.