#you’d have to lock me up to keep me away from him‼️

[kolsmikaelson]

the most unrealistic thing about scream vi was that they made it like nobody was attracted to ethan? like have you not seen him??

[moneyndior]

୧ ׅ𖥔you’ll never find nobody better than me.⋄ 𓍯

…IN WHICH; i have loser!luke x reader thoughts

tags/warnings: fem!reader, tooth rotting fluff, reader says something slightly suggestive twice at the end, small creepy comments mention, teasing!reader, whipped!luke, hints at aphrodite!reader, hints at reader being popular, separate blurbs/headcanons, LONG‼️

ೃauthor notes⁀➷: do not expect this to be coherent lmfao i just woke up from a 4 hour nap and had ideas. also shout out to artemis for telling me to write this ily oomf

—

—loser!Luke absolutely looks over to you before answering a question for your reassurance.

“can you help me, luke?” a younger hepaestus kid asked. you and luke finally had alone time—away from your friends and away from his siblings. a huff left your lips as you crossed your arms, a sassy expression sure, but that comes naturally to you.

luke opened his mouth, ready to agree. it was his calling, to keep up the golden child reputation he had at camp. but for some reason, he hesitated. luke’s eyes shifted toward yours, back to the kid, then back to you. like he was asking you if he could go—like all his free will was thrown out the window.

as much as you’d like to preach that you didn’t like it—that you’d much rather luke be his own person—you couldn’t. a snicker left your throat as you nodded. luke’s eyes shinned with appreciation, a small smile on his face as he turned his attention to the kid.

“yeah, sure. c’mon.” luke mumbled before kissing you on the cheek, following the kid as the 12 year old frantically explained the situation.

—loser!Luke who gets weak in the knees whenever you noticed him. even if you two just made eye contact.

“it’s getting to be painful to watch you looking at her, dude.” chris said from beside luke. they both watched as your sisters braided your hair. one put a flower in your hair, making luke’s heart race a little faster. the flower on your ear made you look even prettier. it’s no surprise every other guy at camp is fawning over you.

“will you shut up?” luke asked, his face scrunched up as he diverted his attention away from you for only a split second to look over to his friend. “it’s not that bad.”

all luke got in response was silence. he shifted his weight left to right, rolling his shoulders with his arms crossed. he waited very impatiently for chris to answer.

“did you come to your senses yet? is the realization hitting now?” his friend asked, eyebrows raised. he spoke with a chuckle and a mischievous look in his eyes. luke clenched his jaw as he blinked, looking away from him.

“look, she isn’t busy. she probably thinks you’re a creepy stalker.” chris added, rubbing salt onto the wound. maybe now realization would hit luke. and it did. hard.

he could be ruining his chances with you because he’s too much of a loser to muster up the courage to even say hi! goddamnit—what kind of demi-god is he?

chris nudged the curly haired boy before quickly pointing in your direction. luke followed his finger before your eyes locked with his.

he felt his knees slightly buckle, being the first out of the two of you to break eye contact. ‘shit,’ was the only think echoing in his mind. ‘way to go, luke. go on you for looking like the biggest loser in front of y/n. awesome.’ he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he quickly fled the scene.

“he’s cute.” “who? luke? y’know—he’s like, totally in love with you, y/n.” “i know.”

—loser!Luke who takes the title of ‘y/n’s boyfriend.’ like seriously….he takes real pride in it.

“you’re y/n’s boyfriend, right?” damn fuckin’ right he is. forget luke castellan—that’s boring. y/n’s boyfriend has a much better ring to it. he’s yours before he’s human.

he felt a weird sense of pride wash over him whenever another camper asked him that. it doesn’t matter if he’s asked it once, twice, or even a thousand times. luke’ll always get a grin on his face as he nods.

getting a question like that just meant he gets to brag about how he’s dating the prettiest girl at camp—the prettiest girl to ever walk this planet.

“yeah. y’know it’s actually our anniversary soon and i was wondering-“ and there he goes, on another tangent about his plans to surprise you. because he only wants the best for you. blah, blah, blah. luke’s just so whipped it makes everyone sick.

percy literally fake gags anytime luke finishes a rant about how pretty you looked last night at the campfire and how gorgeous your eyes were then.

—loser!Luke who took one week and three days to finally talk to you.

he felt his sibling shove him in your direction when his back was turned, causing him to stumble toward you. luke’s head snapped back toward them, watching them laugh with a few other hermes kids.

“you alright?” your voice sounded sweet like honey to him. it wasn’t rough, it was possibly the smoothest, nicest voice he’d ever heard. and luke has spoken to a lot of people.

he tripped over his feet as he tried to straighten his back, rolling his shoulders before crossing his arms. luke cleared his throat, nodding. “yeah. ‘m alright.”

a giggle left your throat at his reaction. out of all the guys that you’ve flirted with—luke stuck out for some reason. maybe it was because he was genuinely flustered at the sight of you. that’s different than the usual corny pickup lines or the way-too-intimate complimenting.

“luke, right? it’s nice to finally put a face on a name.” you said, a chuckle in your voice as you smiled. your smile was so much brighter up close. luke was about to answer, until his words finally processed in his head.

you knew his name. you know who he was before this. did you hear good things about him? bad things? did you hear that he was the best swordsman here? did that impress you?

“uh, yeah. it’s nice to meet you too.” he managed to get out, his voice coming out a little quieter than he’d like.

“i love your hair, by the way.” you complimented him like it was nothing—like he wasn’t about to make it his whole personality. did you even know the hold you have on him?

“oh, thank you.” “you’re welcome.”

luke was ready to say something about your eyes, until your sibling cut him off.

“i have got to steal y/n. i am so sorry, luke!” “oh. that’s alright.”

it wasn’t alright, though. he wanted to keep talking to you—having your full attention on him was better than anything. luke just sighed before speaking to you once more, hoping to leave an impression.

“i’ll see you later, hopefully.”

“yeah, definitely.”

definitely. luke cannot wait for the time definitely comes around.

—loser!Luke who does anything and everything you ask of him.

“can you help me take off my shoes? my feet hurt!”

you whined, throwing yourself onto a log. luke furrowed his brows, more confused above all else. he snickered quietly as he seen you pout, sitting with a leg extended out toward him.

“can’t you do that yourself?” “can’t you do it f’me?”

luke shrugged, sarcastically rolling his eyes at your words. he kneeled down in front of you, beginning to untie the converse you had on.

“you look pretty like this, luke.”

he paused for a moment, his hands still gripping your shoe lace. luke’s lips tightened, his eyebrows twitching. he really didn’t know what to feel other than embarrassment.

“thank you.” he muttered before frantically trying to finish untying the shoe. luke quickly slipped it off, hearing you giggle at his expense.

“why’re you actin’ so shy? can i not compliment my boyfriend?” you teased further as he, once again, frantically tried to untie the other.

“stop it. ‘m tryna help you and this is how you reward me?” “i’ll reward you in a different way if you hurry.”

and goddamnit—hurry he did. even when you asked for him to carry you, he still did. luke is just some guy who’s madly in love with his girlfriend. even when he’s holding her shoes and carrying her bridal style to his cabin.

[moonlightwonie]

꧁ first time with your bf jungwon (part 1 of ?) ꧂

‼️TW: smut, nsfw, mdni‼️

jungwon x f!reader || word count: 0.7k

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★ 🔮 ☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

you and your boyfriend jungwon had been dating for a few months. spending almost every waking second thinking about eachother and wishing you could be together all of the time. as time went on and you two began spending more time with one another, the two of you were finding it harder and harder to keep your hands off of eachother. although you both agreed that you’d want to try and wait so that your first time together was special and spontaneous, you guys would take turns exploring eachothers bodies with your hands, but you’d never taken things any further.

whenever your boyfriend would start looking deep into your eyes with that look, you knew he wouldn’t be able to keep his thoughts clean or his hands off of you. his hands would linger under your shirt and give your breasts a small squeeze, your fingers finding their way into his soft locks and tugging at them ever so gently. quiet whimpers would fall from the raven haired boys mouth, only making him kiss you deeper. moving his hands to your hips and pulling you in closer, jungwon wanted to feel you as close as physically possible. you thought it was cute seeing how needy your boyfriend was for you, especially when you barely did anything to provoke such a reaction out of him.

“what is it, wonie? tell me what you want“ you’d ask as you straddled his lap and look down into your boyfriends pretty eyes, both your own and your boyfriends cheeks flushed at the sudden change in positions and wave of confidence you’d exuded from your question. his bottom lip caught between his teeth as his gaze flickered from your eyes, to your lips, and then back to your eyes. “‘want you… i want you, y/n” he’d mutter as he felt all of the blood in his body begin to migrate to one place in particular. his words alone sent shivers down your spine, feeling an ache between your thighs as your cheeks grew even warmer.

you’d then lean into him and gently press your soft lips against the nape of his neck before moving them up to his ear and whispering into it, “you’re gonna have to be a little more specific than that”, teasing him as you giggled softly before pulling away so that you can look into his eyes again. he both hated and loved whenever you’d tease him, it made him roll his eyes and snicker, grinning as he shook his head. honestly, in his eyes he thought that you couldn’t get any hotter, but he was eager to be proven wrong. “mmm cute… very cute” he’d say before poking the tip of his tongue against the inside of his cheek. he moved his hands to your hips and began pushing you down onto his growing bulge, sitting up some more so that you two were now face to face, only inches away from each others noses touching.

“do you feel that, baby? do you feel how badly i want you? how badly that i need you?” he’d grin mischievously as he tilted his head ever so slightly to the side as he looked deep into your eyes. you could feel the anticipation and hunger pooling up in your stomach. jungwon had always had such a way with his words, but this time he had left you feeling absolutely mesmerized, speechless, and (most importantly) wanting nothing more than to just give yourself to him in every way. “then have me… take me, please?” you asked as you felt his growing bulge against your clothed warmth. jungwon knew that you’d never gone all the way before (neither had he), so he was a little nervous that he may not be as good as you might’ve been anticipating for your first time to , but he was more than willing to exercise that and try his very hardest to give you the time of your life.

“‘gonna take real good care of you, pretty, don’t worry” he said softly before pulling you in closer to him, crashing his lips into yours and kissing you deeply as his hands remained firmly on your hips, rocking them back and forth against his pelvis. you whimpered softly at the friction, feeling the tension building up as you placed your hands on each of his broad shoulders for support before grinding yourself against his lap. the soft grunts and heavy breathing coming from him was enough to make you flood your panties. god, he sounded so fucking hot. oh. my. g o d. <3

☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★ 🔮 ☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★

ahh i hope you guys liked it! it was my first time writing smut, so i apologize if it wasn’t very good! if you’d like for me to post a continuation, please let me know and i’ll gladly do so! thank you for reading, feel free to reblog if you enjoyed it <3

[ryuzakistoe]

The Rin x Reader story is great! Can you please make a part 3 for with angst with bad ending? After Rin came back from the Blue Lock, he learned that the reader passed away and also learned that she passed away the day the last time he saw her.

YESS I DEFINITELY CANN I HOPE U ENJOY THIS‼️😌

Reunited once more PART 3 ANGST VER. (Rin Itoshi x Fem!reader)

Lots of angst, language, depression, self-blame, fem!reader, breaking down Rin Itoshi😢

a/n: I'm definitely doing my boy isagi next😅😏

“Rin…”

Its no use…how could you tell him now?

“Please…wait..”

You haven't even told him about your condition.

“Come back..”

With each passing second, his figure grew smaller and smaller.

Its too late now.

He's gone.

…

You fell onto your knees as you began to cough out blood.

Shit…please…not now…

Your eyes welled up with tears once more as you clenched the fabric of your shirt over your heart.

You didn't get to tell him about your heart condition.

The pain in your chest was almost unbearable as you began to cry harder.

Your vision began to fade to black as you prayed for Rin to come back.

“Rin…”

Those were the last words you mumbled before you finally collapsed onto the hard, cold floor.

~~~🥀~~~

*BEEP*

*BEEP*

*BEEP*

You let out a groan as you slowly opened your eyes.

You let out a soft wince as your eyes were blinded by light.

As you adjusted to the brightness, you began to take in your surroundings.

‘Where am I..?’

You moved your head towards the side as you saw a familiar figure sitting besides your bed.

“Mom..?” you weakly mumbled.

Hearing her name, your mother perked her head up.

Her eyes were swollen, as if she was already crying.

“Y/n! Goodness you're awake. Baby… what happened? I found you on the floor outside…what were you doing? You know how dangerous that is with your condition.” your mother lectured as she began to hug you.

“I know mom, I know.” you mumbled as you laid stiff on the bed, not having the current energy to hug her back.

“Baby…tell me, what were you doing outside?” your mother asked once more.

Your eyes welled up with tears as you recalled the events from earlier.

“I don't remember.” you lied as you shifted your gaze from your mom to your hands.

A slight frown made way to her face.

“Sweetie…just know that you can trust me okay..?” your mother softly spoke as she began stroking your hair before getting up from the chair.

“I know mom.” you forcefully smiled as you blinked the tears away.

Your mother smiled back before walking away towards the door.

She gave you one last worried look before shutting the door and leaving the room.

As soon as she left, the tears that you had been holding back resurfaced.

You let out a choked sob as your tears began to gush out.

Your eyes began to get all puffy and your nose all red.

“Im so sorry Rin..” you whispered as you continued to cry.

~~~🥀~~~

A few hours have passed, and with each passing hour, you felt increasingly drained.

Every slight movement caused excruciating agony to surge through your body.

It felt as if your body was on fire.

You lay there, motionless, as the nurses came in to check on you.

As the nurses checked your IV and your stability, the doctor soon entered with a displeased expression.

He let out a sigh before speaking.

“Miss Y/n, its safe to assume that your condition is not getting any better. I'm sorry but…your not going to make it.”

Huh? What?

Your breathing came to a halt as you processed his words.

‘Not going to make it’

‘Condition not getting better’

‘Im sorry..’

Those words kept swirling in your mind.

Was that it? You were going to…die?

“If you have any last requests you’d like to make, would you like to do them now?” the doctor spoke, making sure to keep the most respectful tone.

“Does…my mom know?” you softly uttered as your tears began to arise once more.

“We have alerted your mom already, she was here earlier when you fell asleep.” the doctor answered.

“I see,” you said as you tried to hold back your tears and frustration. You were not ready to bear the pain once more through crying.

“Would you like to be alone Miss Y/n? To recollect and process your thoughts?” The doctor suggested.

“Yes please.” you weakly muttered as you began to space out.

With a nod, the doctor and nurses respectfully left as they quietly shut the door.

As you lay there, a few tears couldn't help but escape from your eyes, despite your efforts to hold them back.

You refrained from sobbing or thrashing around, knowing it would cause unbearable pain in your body.

All you could think of right now was Rin.

There were so many things that you didn't get to tell him.

For example, your condition.

You didn't even get to tell him that you loved him—romantically.

But there were other things you didn't get to tell him.

However you were expecting this to happen, so you wrote down everything you wanted to tell him on your phone.

You left your phone without a passcode so that Rin could easily access it.

Finally, he will be able to understand how you felt.

About him.

About you.

About everyone else.

About things you like.

About things you dislike.

About everything.

~~~🥀~~~

“CODE BLUE CODE BLUE—”

Hospital staff and nurses rushed into the room you were stationed at.

“Ma’am please step aside. Everyone is doing the best they can.” One of the nurses spoke as they tried to calm down your mother.

Your mother's anguished cries echoed through the hallway, after all, her beloved child was dying.

A group of hospital staff hurriedly brought you into the emergency room as they tried to keep you alive.

The heart monitor appeared to be showing an irregular and alarming increase in speed.

The nurses and doctors did everything in their willpower to wake you up.

You were unconscious and your life was slipping away.

Other nurses tried holding your mom back from entering the room.

Screams and crys were heard from her as they kept her out the room.

Of course, they felt bad and pitiful but what could they do? They had to let the professionals do their job.

They had to help you live.

…

A few weeks had passed and Rin was finally taking a break from blue lock.

He decided to go back to his hometown for the meanwhile.

He went to visit his mom and maybe even you.

Although would you want to see him? He's been questioning that.

Soon enough, he’ll get his answer.

Hopefully.

Rin finally arrived at his destination as he knocked on the door.

A few seconds later, his mother opened the door.

Usually, she would be ecstatic to see him. But right now, she seemed…mournful.

“Rin, your home.” she sadly smiled as she opened the door for him, allowing him inside.

“Yeah, I am. Is something wrong?” he asked as he observed his mother's actions.

His mother paused at his words, her eyes welling up as she responded.

“Rin…i think you need to sit down for this..” his mother wobbily spoke as she led him to the couch.

“Mom what happened?” he asked once more as he felt his body coursing with anxiety.

Rin wasn't sure what to expect as his mother let out a heavy sigh, revealing that the words she was about to speak were going to be difficult for the both of them.

“Rin…Y/n…she..”

"She what?" he asked as his mother paused mid-sentence.

He felt his anxiety worsened at the mention of Y/n.

Had something happened to her while he was gone?

He didn't want to think that but the way his mother is acting…it must've been bad.

"Rin, she passed away," his mother softly whispered as she hung her head low.

Rin's mind seemed to have stopped as he stared at his mother.

‘Passed…away..?’

How?

You seemed fine when he left. Well…not totally fine mentally. But physically you were fine.

Right?

“Mom, this isn't something to joke over, you know-”

“Rin.”

Hearing his name he paused.

He observed at how his mom lifted her head up.

Her eyes were all red and puffy.

Her breathing was uneven.

Her lip quivered ever so slightly.

He scanned her face, trying to detect if there were any lies or fake acts.

Unfortunately…he found none.

He felt his heart drop.

‘No…but…how..?’

He sat there, motionless.

He didn't want to believe it, no way.

His eyes began to sting.

Was he…crying?

He lifted his hand to touch his face.

Just as expected, he felt tears.

Before long, he felt more tears welling up. He couldn't hold them back.

Tears poured uncontrollably from his eyes, he tried to restrain them, but his tears flowed as they showed no signs of stopping.

It was too much to handle.

He didn't even get to say goodbye to you.

But most importantly…how did you…

“Mom…” he whispered as his voice cracked a little.

“Yes Rin..?” his mom sniffled as she used a tissue to wipe her stained face.

“How did she…” he trailed off, not wanting to finish the words.

“Heart failure...” his mother answered.

He let out a quiet sob.

Why? Why didn't you tell him?

He couldn't help but blame himself. He would've never done what he did if he knew you were going to pass away.

No…he would've spent all his time with you.

“Before I forget Rin…Y/n…she wanted you to have this. It was her final request.” his mom softly spoke, breaking Rin out of his thoughts to hand him your phone.

He quietly grabbed your phone as fresh tears were stuck on his face.

“I think you should read it in a more private space.” his mom whispered as she felt concerned for Rin.

After all, she did always see them together almost every day.

With a nod, Rin forced himself up and began walking to his room.

He opened his door and plopped down on the bed, staring at your phone.

After a while of mentally preparing himself, he finally unlocked your phone to find out you had no passcode.

You probably really did want him to have your phone.

As he looked through your phone, he finally opened the app, ‘notes.’

The first note to ever pop up was titled, “For Rin.”

Rin hesitantly clicked on it as he slowly read your notes.

‘Hey Rin, if your reading this then I guess its already happened. I'm sorry I didn't get to tell you earlier, I just didn't want to burden you any further and ‘force’ you to stay. You probably wouldn't even believe me and think that I would be making it all up just to get you to stay for my selfish reasons.’

“You were never a burden to me…” Rin softly whispered as he felt his eyes stinging once more.

He felt his warm tears drip down his face and land on your phone.

Nevertheless, he kept reading.

‘Beaides all that, I just wanted to tell you that this ‘heart condition’ has been going on for a while since I was young. I never thought to bring it up back then because I didn't want my silly condition to get in the way of our fun.

Now I realize that it was stupid of me to not bring it up as it only worsened from that point on.

All those times when I said I couldn't play because I was ‘sick’ and had a ‘fever’ were all partially true but it wasn't the whole truth.

The day that you left, I wanted to tell you right then and there everything, but couldn't.

When you were gone from my vision, I suddenly collapsed and woke up in the hospital.

The doctor told me I didn't have long left to live.

When he told me those words, I felt like breaking down.

Surprisingly, I didn't but still felt very miserable by the news.

But to be honest, all I could think about was you, Rin.

Even though I'm gone, I still want you to pursue your dreams and live on without me, although you probably already are.

“Dont be silly Y/n…i can't without you here..” Rin softly murmured, his vision getting blurry from all the tears. Yet, he still continued to read.

‘Oh, and before this note ends I want to tell you one last thing.

Rin, I love you. I always have as a matter of fact.

And no, its not in a friendship way but more of a romantic way.

You see Rin, ever since we were little I always had a little crush on you. But I mean who wouldn't?! You were so cute back then! And now your even more cuter! Handsome too!

Soon, that ‘little crush’ developed into love.

I never told you because I never wanted to ruin the friendship we had although its already kinda ruined already.

And even if you ever did feel the same way, (which I kinda doubt but who knows?!) I'm sorry that you had to find out this way.

Maybe in another life we could be happy together without my stupid condition. Romantically or not.

And in that next life, if it is romantically, I hope we could strive together and have a future with the two of us in it, with me actually confessing to you in person.

But if its in a friendship way, I hope we can still stick together like back then.

But right now, in this lifetime, it seems as if it can't be either of those two.

Promise me one thing though Rin, please take care of yourself.

I love you.’

-Y/n

He felt like he couldn't breathe.

His hand started shaking violently as he dropped the phone onto the bed.

His sobs became louder and louder as seconds passed by.

“Y/n…” he choked out as he began to tug on his hair.

The pain in his heart was insufferable.

He's never broken down like this ever since the Sae incident.

But this…this was definitely worse than the day Sae neglected him.

It was about you, and you were gone. Long gone.

He couldn't help but let out a frustrated scream as he threw his clutter across the room.

His crying escalated into a full breakdown as all he could think about in the moment was how much he regretted his actions.

He's never hated himself as much as right now.

Would all of this have been different if he never pushed you away?

Well, no, of course not. It's not like he can change your heart condition, but he could have at least provided you with support.

He could have at least let you rest peacefully, with you knowing that he still cared for you.

But you probably thought that he hated you.

And he hated the idea of that.

The idea of you passing with the belief of him hating you made him feel such overwhelming and intolerable guilt.

With fists clenched together so tightly, his nails pierced through his palm as his knuckles turned pure white.

He let out a frustrated cry as he punched his wall.

This was his breaking point.

He slumped against the wall, pulling his legs to his chest and burying his face in his arms, overcome with violent sobs.

“I love you too Y/n…” he whispered.

~~~🥀~~~

Days have passed and Rin hasn't been able to get much sleep.

It was noticeable too.

Rin had heavy eyebags as he wasn't speaking as much.

Every day, he would always lock himself in his room.

He would lie down on his bed, feeling numb as he blamed himself for all that's happened.

Some nights, he would curl up into a ball on his bed and cry all night.

He would cry himself to sleep.

Your missing presence really affected him.

…

Today, he had planned to visit the graveyard, as he did almost every day when he had the time.

Arriving at your tombstone, he fell to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes once again.

“Y/n…I really can't do this without you.” he mumbled as replaced the old flowers with new ones.

Every day, Rin would always be the one to look after your tombstone.

On rainy days, he would place a small umbrella over your gravestone to prevent mold from growing on it.

And every time the flowers were wilting away, he would always be the one to replace them with your favorite flowers.

“Y/n…I don't know what to do without you. I need you here with me…”

Rin bit his lower lip as he tried to compress a sob.

“I miss you…I miss you so much it hurts.” Rin muttered as he wiped his tears away with his sleeve.

Although it was pointless, his tears just kept flowing.

“Fuck this…I can't do this anymore.” Rin grumbled as he gripped the hem of his shirt tightly.

“Y/n…Y/n come back to me…please!” Rin sobbed as he slammed his fists onto the ground.

“Tell me this is all just one big joke Y/n! Tell me your not really gone!”

Of course, he knew all too well that this wasn't a joke.

It was real life.

You were really gone.

Rin hunched over as he began to cry into his palms.

“I love you Y/n…I wish I could've told you too…”

a/n: omg I'm so tired but anyways I hope you liked this

OH and I also got the ‘notes’ thing reference from that one K-drama “Drawing Closer” bro…that made me cry so bad😭

Zoo wee mama🤤

[bratzforchris]

Keep Me Safe

‼️TRIGGER WARNING: this work is extremely depressing and dark. Do not read unless you are 100% stable.

Pairing: Luke x feminine and little!reader

Warnings: verbal/emotional abuse implied, self harm, blood, bandages, emotional meltdown

Word Count: 1515

This is your last warning to step away if you are triggered by the above topics

You sat in the bathroom, absolutely sobbing your heart out. You’d just gotten off the phone with your mother, and to say you were hurt was an understatement. Throughout the call, she’d belittled you and berated you, telling you it was your own fault you didn’t have friends and that your life would be so much better if you’d just let her “help” you. To hear such awful, hurtful things from the person that gave you life was something you never thought would happen to you. 

You wailed as you pressed your nails further into your skin, enjoying the way the physical pain distracted you. The feeling, you had decided, was what you were seeking. You shakily reached under the sink, already feeling guilty but not stopping yourself. In the far left corner, shoved to the back, was a small bag of your old blades. They were hidden specifically so Luke wouldn’t find them. He knew you had a history of self-harm, but you had been clean for over eight months since being with him. 

Grabbing one of the fresher pieces of metal, you immediately made a small mark on your inner arm. It wasn’t big, less than an inch long, but it immediately began to pour blood. Despite the slight feeling of dizziness that went rushing to your head, you made more cuts that began to litter your arms and legs. 

After the eighth cut, you were snapped out of your trance and began to realize what you’d done. Your cuts were absolutely pouring blood that was beginning to seep onto the bathroom floor. You hurriedly grabbed a wad of toilet paper and began to press it to the wounds, crying heavily. You knew Luke wasn’t going to be mad. He would be worried for you. And that made you cry more than him being mad would. 

The thought of making your daddy worried about you was enough to immediately make you slip into littlespace, sobbing as you feebly tried to stop the bleeding. By this point, you were absolutely wailing for Luke as you held the pieces of toilet paper to your arms and legs. Your tiny voice repeatedly called out for daddy, begging him to come make things better and take away your hurt.  

Luckily for you, Luke had just walked in the door after getting home from the studio. He noticed all of the lights downstairs were off, but your car was in the driveway. 

“Y/N? I’m home!” he called, wandering up the stairs. 

Luke cocked his head as he heard your tiny sobs from the bathroom. He listened once more just to be sure and sure enough he heard your little voice calling out for daddy. The blond immediately rushed over to the door and twisted the knob, cursing when he realized it was locked. 

“Princess! Open the door for Daddy, please!” he called, urgency in his voice. 

“No can! Daddy hurt,” You cried, wanting to rush into Luke’s arms but knowing you couldn’t get off the floor. “Beedin Daddy!” 

“Fuck.” Luke whispered under his breath, running into your shared bedroom and retrieving one of your bobby pins from on top of the dresser. 

There had been many a time where your little self had accidentally gotten locked in the bathroom, but Luke could tell this time was different. The urgency in your voice told him everything. He rushed back to the bathroom and immediately popped the lock, shoving open the door. 

“Angel?...oh my god.” he whispered more to himself than to you when he saw the scene. 

“Daddy helps!” You sobbed. 

“Shhh shh shhh, baby. Daddy’s got you,” he said, immediately scooping you up. “Oh princess.” 

Luke held you on his hip as he grabbed a washcloth, not even caring about your blood seeping into his white shirt. He ran the cloth under cool water and immediately started applying pressure to your wounds, his heart breaking as he listened to your cries. 

“Daddy is so sorry his princess is in pain.” he said sadly as you leaned your head on his shoulder, crying all the same. 

You were beginning to grow faint from the blood loss and Luke could tell by the way your grip was going slack. He filled up a tiny mouthwash cup with some water and sat you down on the vanity, holding the cup in one hand and the cloth in the other. 

“Deep breaths, honey. In through your nose, out through your mouth…good job, baby girl!” he said with an encouraging smile as you copied his breathing. “Can you drink some water now? Daddy will help you.”

You nodded softly. “Mhm.”

Luke held the cup up to your lips, allowing you to take small sips of water. He gently kissed your forehead when you were done, praising you for being such a good girl. “Daddy loves you so much, honey. Always remember that.” 

You whimpered softly, making grabby hands for Luke to pick you up again. “Daddy.” You whined quietly. 

“Let’s fix your boo boos and then I’ll hold you, okay lovely?” Luke asked, a soft look in his blue eyes. 

You nodded but made a sad sound, tears starting to flow. Luke grabbed the bottle of peroxide from under the sink, as well as gauze, Neosporin, and bandaids. Even in your regressed state, you could see how much Luke cared for you. His shirt was covered in your blood, his curls were sweaty and falling in his face, and you could see the panic on his features, but he expressed nothing but love towards you. 

“This may hurt a little, baby. Squeeze Daddy’s hand if you need to, ‘kay?” Luke told you as he prepared the peroxide. 

As soon as he squeezed some of the liquid on your cuts, you began to sob and squeeze his hand. If your grip wasn’t rather weak at the moment, it probably would’ve actually hurt. Luke’s face dropped into a pout as he heard your cries, but if he was worried, he didn’t show. He wiped the injuries with the gauze, before grabbing the Neosporin and using clean hands to smooth some over your boo boos. 

“Want pony bandaids, princess?” he asked softly, trying to cheer you up. 

“Pease.” You mumbled softly. 

You were quite exhausted and sad at this point and all you wanted was for Luke to pick you up and snuggle you in bed with your stuffie and pacifier. Your little mind couldn’t even really comprehend the fact that you had purposely hurt yourself. All you knew was that it hurt. A lot. Daddy placed the bandaids over all of your cuts with so much love and care until he finally, finally scooped you up. 

You laid your head against Luke’s shoulder, yawning and fisting your eyes. “Seepy.”

“Aww, I know, honey,” Your daddy rubbed your back, carefully walking downstairs with you perched on his hip. “Let’s get you a snack and some water and then we’ll take a nap, okay?”

Luke didn’t care how late in the day it was. You were in pain and needed some rest, especially after going through such trauma in such a regressed state of mind. He carefully handed you an apple slice while reaching into the cabinet for your sippy cup. Despite how hard it was to make your water and snack while holding you on his hip, Luke never let go. 

Once you had finished your small snack, the blond walked back upstairs, still holding you. He carefully set you on the bed, watching for any tears that may have started. 

“Daddy’s just going to change into pjs so we can cuddle, okay honey?” he told you.

You nodded, snuggling your stuffie to your chest as you watched Luke pull off his blood-soaked shirt and jeans. You smiled softly when you realized Daddy was putting on your favorite, sensory-approved pajama pants. It wasn’t until Luke went to pull a shirt over his head that you had an issue. 

“No Daddy! No shirt!” You protested. 

“Okay, angel, okay. No shirt.” he chuckled, knowing how much comfort skin-to-skin cuddling brought you. 

Daddy pulled back the covers of the bed and slid in next to you, handing you your paci that said Daddy’s Princess from his nightstand. He made sure you had your paci and your stuffie before pulling you into his chest, rubbing up and down your back. 

“Daddy loves you, baby.” he cooed. 

“Loves you, Daddy.” You said with a great yawn. 

It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, comforted by Luke’s presence and worn out after such a day. Luke knew it would be a long road from here. He made a mental note to ask you about seeing a psychiatrist again when you were big. He also knew that he needed to wash his clothes, get rid of your blade stash and clean the blood off the bathroom floor, but that could wait until you were sleeping. For now, he just soaked in the feeling of having you relaxed on his chest. Your daddy knew that he would always keep you safe. 

[punk-in-docs]

‼️TAINTED LOVE ‼️

Detective (Killer) Quinn x Reader ‼️ Dark Drabble ‼️

Inspired entirely by this post which I glimpsed via @ravensfromvalhalla from @ceriseheaven hope this is ok that I rolled with this gif/idea.

I have no freakin’ clue what warped part of my brain is responsible for this fuckery but alas, here we are- pure filthy darkness within. Read at your own caution. Come scream at my inbox about this if you so desire.

Los Angeles - 1987

You’re where you usually are. Stalking the fringes at a blood soaked crime scene.

Brutal. Vicious. Sad creamy walls spattered in blood. Two dead they say. No word details leaked yet. You scraped yourself out of bed and got here before the sun was even warm.

Desperate to talk to anyone to make your deadline and get this in the morning papers tomorrow. Maybe you’d get print. Maybe this fucking time you’ll beat Cooper to the bylines. Maybe maybe-

You exist on maybes these days. You eat breathe sleep and cram them. You put on your sensible cloud grey skirt and black heels and you hunt for the news for your shitty paper. For the job that barely keeps you in food and scooping together enough for rent.

Your next story is here. Tucked away where you’re stood, locked deep in the slanted set of the Hollywood hills. Astral Drive.

Strips of yellow crime scene tape holds back your lot. The inquisitive reporters with pads and pen in hand. Avid eyes. Wolves. Snatching any information you could from the cops. Hungry fingers. Pens poised.

Your head snaps to the drive up to this sleepy cul-de-sac with the assaulting shriek that comes forth.

Tainted Love comes blasting rude from the windows of a maraschino red Porsche. Red like a heartthrob. It drowns out the din of camera crews and stoic cops not giving a fucking damn inch.

Come on. I’ve got a deadline. Can’t you give me anything?

Back behind the yellow tape ma’am.

Just trying to do my job here, Officer. Same as. You. You hurl back. Glaring through your glasses lenses.

The car comes crashing into view. Parks screeching and sloppily next to the pale cop cruisers. Rabid red and the driver is a maniac.

Door flying open and huge black stomping boots are the first things to spill out.

That’s the first time you see him. Not notice. See.

He can’t be missed. Not in that car. Not with that swaggering walk - those clothes. He dresses like he’s right out that Schumacher movie. The Kiefer Sutherland one about Vampires.

All this vicious LA sunshine, and he’s in a black PVC leather trench coat. All shiny shimmers. Unyielding on the eyes. Slicked back curls worn like oil slick on his head. A white tee and a silver chain or two clamped around his neck. Slamming around a pale neck as he strolls.

Chewing red gum and black shades on. He frowns at the house in the terrible bright sun. Like he’s angry at being here. Angry at daylight. Truly vampish. Nails bitten a little - painted a gummy shade of black.

He’s wild and crazy. Unhinged like that Blondie song. You go out at night and eat up bars where the people meet.

He adjusts his shades on his nose. Slams the car door like he’s putting on a freakin’ show. Probably reeks of stuffy Paco Rabanne. Pour Homme. Something that comes out a black and gold sleek bottle. The cologne that buffets as he walks past. Lingering on where he doesn’t.

“Freshly waxed. Don’t dare fucking touch her, pigs. Understand?” He flicks at the chest of a tubby cop as he walks by. Talking about his beloved baby. His bloody car.

Disdain thrown to his leather back as he swirls past them. Coat tails lap at his black pressed slacks. His boots are black crocodile skin. Tacky as fuck.

You can’t deny he is stunning, though.

Chocolate curls and puddle melting eyes, all brown. A face that’s entirely too youthful and sweetly handsome for this job.

He’s stunning the way a tiger is. All stunning rippling display and sinew designed to bite, lick his long canines and show off.

Sharp deep eyes that hide a lot of carnality. He’s seen things. Hell. He’s done those awful things. He’s trod places no sane men would dare. He’s finishing a cigarette and letting it cloud over the taste of his crappy gritty morning coffee.

The crowds around him part like they’re negatively charged. He looks like an extra late to a film set. Not a detective. There’s just no way.

He yanks the tape up and is ducking under it like it’s nothing. No one stops him. Stomping across the path in those knocking heavy soled boots as he flicks a used cigarette back at the curb. It fizzled dead.

Yes way. The badge is hooked right there on his belt. Golden and true. Not even prominent. All ego and no cares, is this guy.

You and your fellow reporters clamour for details. Straining the crime scene tape to snap.

He turns his head at the push of microphones and tape recorders shoved forwards. Twists right around and time slows to treacle when he lowers his shades - to see you.

Sensible heels. Cute skirt. All babe. Pretty neck.

His eyes swim the length of you. Head to toe. There’s that tiger on the loose again.

He steps back and his coat laps swaying behind him. You gulp as he comes close like a gathering leather storm.

He tilts his head at you. “Paper?” He asks like it’s interesting to him.

“Chronicle.” You eek out. Unable to believe you might get something here. Might scrape some words together and make a meaty mighty piece out of this.

“Detective?” You ask. Your voice is a songbird he wants caged all for himself.

“Quinn.” He smooths. Smile like silk. Zipping another cigarette to his lips.

“I’m hoping for a lead here. You know. A girl’s gotta make rent somehow. Gimme something.” You’re not below begging.

“You’re on the wrong side of the tape. Leave us do the investigating.”

Can I get some details of who was involved? The type of attack? Is this the work of a serial killer? Should our public be worried. What, Another Night Stalker?” You rattle off.

You chirp too much, little bird.

He snatches the voice recorder out your hand.

“Two people. Brutal knife attack. No and yes.” Comes his answers.

That last answer chills you. “People should be worried.” You state.

He doesn’t respond.

He sticks his eyes right into yours. Looks through you. Like your skin was wet paper. Lights his cigarette in no rush and licks his plump lips.

“Trust me birdy, you just got a hell of a lot more than what you bargained for.“ He promises. Drawling.

Dropping his eyes up and down at you. Sheer flirt. Chucking the voice recorder back to you, that you barely catch.

“You got my number, yeah?” He checks as he sways away.

“Yeah 9-1-1.” You reply acidly.

He laughs in the crime scene doorway. Cackling away.

“Nah. It’s 666 honey.” He corrects. Shooting you a wink.

He absentmindedly hopes he managed to pick all the blood out from under his nails from last night. The guys inside made one bitch of a mess-

-

You frown a little later on. Listening back. When you wonder how he knows a knife was used and he hadn’t even entered the crime scene yet.

-

Next part? C’mon. I dare you❤️‍🩹‼️🔪

Tagging some beloved JQ/Munsonites 🔪 (I’ve no idea what this drabble even is I’m so sorry) @indouloureux @stiegasaw @munsonquinns @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @starbxcks @morganamoonstone @ramona-thorns

[suna-reversed]

Talking to the moon🌙

Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

minors DNI‼️

3k+ words

(quote^^ by- Richard Siken)

warnings/tags- blood and violence. oral (f.recieving), vaginal sex, anal, dacryphilia, slight praise, slight degradation, fingering. age gap. toxic relationship. mentions of harassment. yandere themes implied. heartbreak, moving on. fluff. angst. hurt/comfort. (all characters are aged up!)

Gojo Satoru is the moon. Ever changing and radiant. Beaming with light, even when he doesn't have any of his own. And much like the moon, parts of him stay hidden in an ominous darkness as he leaves you cold and alone in the tangled mess of sheets, wondering why your lover disappears at the crack of every dawn.

You had met him a while ago when he had first come into the bakery you worked at part-time, dazzling pearls on show as he ordered every single flavour of mochi off the menu. You didn’t know where it started; how the simple exchanges turned into conversations that lasted up to hours, your manager practically having to shoo him away so that you’d stop getting distracted.

You got used to him visiting you in the day during work, sitting on the barstool near the bakery counter, talking your ear off about the most random of things while he stuffed his face with mochi. You sometimes wondered how you happened to have so much in common with a man so much more older than you. 

You couldn't exactly remember how those innocent conversations turned into you being splayed across the marble kitchen countertop of your apartment at 3 am, the joyous man now turned into a ferocious beast as he devoured you whole, holding your legs apart, tongue licking in between your folds with such fervour that made it seem as if it was the last meal of his life. 

In all honesty, you didn’t know a lot about him, except for the fact that he worked at a private institute and often travelled overseas. He’d be as silent as a mouse as he slipped out of your place before sunrise each time. He never told you why, and eventually you stopped asking- the warmth and comfort of his body too addictive to have to give up for the question of ‘what are we?’ being answered.

On days that you’d find yourself waking up early, you’d simply let your eyes roam over the muscles of his back, adoring the dimples at the bottom of his spine, memorising each blemish, scar and mark as if you’d never see it again. You sometimes found yourself wishing he’d take off the peculiar fabric covering his eyes- your mind could barely fathom the shade of his orbs.

You knew that he was always aware of you being awake. But he didn’t acknowledge it, whether by accident or choice, you could never tell. So every time he’d finish pulling his shirt over his head, you’d roll away, focusing your mind out the window on the half disappearing moon instead of the crushing weight on your chest. 

Perhaps, this was the love they never told you about. The love that wasn’t afternoon picnics and obnoxious public displays of affection. The love that wasn’t late night grocery runs and feeding each other food at cafes.

Instead, this was the love that had you deleting messages and cleaning up the strands of ashy hair from your shower drain. The love that had you lying to your friends about the marks on your neck and pretending like he didn’t just have you pinned down beneath him the night before as you served him coffee.

Every morning that you woke up alone in bed, sore and unclothed from the events of the previous night, you found yourself thinking of ways that you’d turn him away the next time he showed up at your door. But then the bell would ring, and your feet would be carrying you to the half broken man covered in bruises and blood before you could think of it.

This time, you’re sure you tell him to go away, to stop treating you as if you were some toy, slamming the door in his crestfallen face. But then why do you find yourself clutching onto his scarlet stained jacket in the bathroom? The first aid box discarded to the side as you sob into his chest, a hand stroking your hair as he assures you he’s fine. 

That night, you find him buried deep inside of you, your heavy breathing filling the silence of the air, your back to his chest. The arms around you feel unbearably tight as he pulls you even closer to him. Why is he trying to snatch all the warmth from your body?

The hot breath of his mouth is right next to your ear. He’s telling you he wants to be tender and merciful while his teeth are digging into your jugular, the hand around your throat tightening as his hips rut into you harder. He does not wipe away the tears flowing freely down your face.

The next morning, you find a burning sensation rising in your chest as you stare at the empty space next to you; his underlying scent of strawberries and citrus still lingering.

What had you been expecting? Why would this night have been different from any other?

That question is answered when you realise the unfamilair feeling of a cold metal wrapped around your ankle while climbing out of bed. Looking down, you see that it's a thin silver anklet with two charms hanging off of it.

His initials and a crescent moon.

You can’t help the smile that’s on your face for the rest of the day.

--------

You're panting, the drumming of your heartbeat echoing in your ears, vision blurring as you try to make it back home. You’re gripping onto the walls to keep yourself from falling, the pain in your body near unbearable as you somehow manage to unlock the door, not even making it past the entrance as you crumble apart right there, curling in on yourself as broken sobs leave your chest. 

The sound of footsteps has you shutting your eyes, flinching from the pain and fear of knowing you can’t fight. The terror of your attacker being in your home makes your cries even louder.

Instead, you find your senses being flooded by the familiar scent of strawberries and the cologne that you bought him- warm muscular arms come to wrap around your figure, lifting you up. You’re still crying as he settles you down onto the bed, gently pulling your hands away from your face.

He lifts your shirt to reveal the expanse of wounds littered across your abdomen. An unreadable expression remains on his face as he skillfully cleans off the blood, fixing you up like you’ve done for him a dozen times. You don’t remember telling him where you were injured. Could the blood be seen through your shirt? None of it matters as he pushes you back down onto the plush mattress, your eyes fluttering close you as fall into a deep fitful slumber. 

It’s a full moon tonight, the light cascading through your window providing you an odd sense of comfort. You turn over in the dark, gasping a little as your eyes lock onto a pair of strange azure ones. Your mind is still heavy from the medicines you took, perhaps that’s why you don’t react, simply staring into the unfamiliar eyes on a face that you recognised better than the back of your own hand.

His slender pale fingers are trailing over the skin of your abdomen. Shouldn't it hurt more? A hand comes up to your face, gently cradling your chin as he examines the scratch on your jaw. Your heart skips a beat as his soft lips press a chaste kiss onto your brow. His voice is low and tense, anger barely restrained as he asks,

“Who did this to you?”

You try to form a response, but all you can hear is the shallow echo of the beating of your half-dead heart. Your chest feels hollow as words finally rise to the tip of your tongue, eyes dry as you tell him all of it. How a strange force had pinned you against a wall when you were walking back home, how the man who appeared from the shadows of the dark alley didn’t even lift a finger, yet it felt like each bone in your body was being cracked apart. How you barely felt the pain of the broken bottle that impaled your flesh as you were thrown aside, the stranger parting from you with just four words,

“Consider this a warning.”

You don’t care how crazy you sound as you explain the bizarre events that occurred. You don’t care that his orbs are as blue and twice as deep as the mariana trench. You don’t care that for once, his eyes hold something other than just lust as he looks at you.

Your throat feels raw by the time you finish, and it hurts to look at his pitiful face so you roll onto your side, fixing your eyes on the shimmering celestial body outside your window. You both lay in silence for a while.

“I liked thinking of you as the moon at times.”

The calm in your voice startles Gojo, but he remains quiet, wanting you to continue. It doesn’t matter if it's gibberish, doesn't matter if it’s words of hatred, of doubt, of regret; he’ll take it as long as there’s something- as long as you’re speaking. His arms tremble around you a little as a bitter laugh escapes your chest. 

“But at the end of the day,” you pause, taking a deep breath, “...all I am, is a mere star in a galaxy full of constellations.”

The raw sob that rips from your chest is a surprise to both you and Gojo.

“Tell me who cares about a star that burns out and explodes?” your voice is barely above a whisper as you turn around to face him.

For once in his life, Gojo Satoru can’t joke, fight or fuck his way out of a situation. A strange weight has been on his chest ever since he saw your eyes. The light and joy stripped out of them as he found himself staring back at his own reflection. 

His eyes glance down at the dip of your collarbone, the arch of your shoulder that he wanted to reside in forever, now covered in small scars. He knows who hurt you. 

He pulls you closer to him, tangling his feet with yours, the strip of metal around your ankle clinking at the movement. Perhaps it was a huge mistake to have bought you something so carelessly, knowing that the eyes of a few dozen enemies followed him wherever he went. 

He finds himself at a loss for words, opting to convey his emotions through touch instead as he melds his lips with yours. You sigh into his mouth and he kisses you even deeper, almost desperately as if trying to pass over his own breaths to you- as if trying to bring you back to life. He finds the taste of salt on his tongue and the wet drops falling onto his cheeks makes his flesh burn. He doesn't know whose they are as he continues to try and cling onto the shell of what was once a whole person. 

“Please” he finds himself mumbling as he pulls you even closer, heart cracking as you continue sniffing into his chest. 

“It hurts- it hurts- so much” You’re sobbing now, his own body shaking in tandem with yours.

Who is he to deny you when you look up at him, the broken plea leaving your mouth, 

“Make it stop please.”

---

Gojo finds the cold metal of his own initials pressing against the side of his face as he hoists your legs over his shoulder. His fingers are pressing down against your sensitive nub, spreading around your slick before he pumps two of his fingers into you. You buck your hips up, cries escaping you as his tongue licks your clit, suctioning it into his mouth as he increases the pace of his fingers.

You’re cumming undone within seconds, begging him to fill you up. He’s never so easily given in to your demands, but tonight, it’s as if he’s only there to serve your wishes. The sickening thought of getting hurt again just so that you’d get this treatment creeps up in the back of your mind. 

You moan as you feel him line his thick girth with your entrance, the tip catching onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he rubs it between your dripping heat. He leans forward, pushing your legs up and safely tucking them against your chest, before crashing his lips against yours. It’s messy and rushed; tongue against tongue, spit drooling out as he pushes himself inside of you in one long stroke. The burn of it has you groaning into his mouth, hands moving to tangle into his hair. His thrusts are deep and angled, the feeling of it settling deep in your belly. 

“Fuck- you look so-fucking-pretty underneath me like this”

His words of praise are muffled against your lips, further drowned out by your moans as one of his hands moves down to play with your clit. You’re screaming his name as the coil in your stomach snaps, his own restraint breaking as he finishes, painting your walls with his seed. 

It’s not the first time you find yourself screaming and moaning that night. His cock is inside of you in one way or the other through the entirety of the next few hours- whether it be deep down your throat as his hands pull your hips down to his face, moaning at the taste of himself leaking from your cunt - or stretching the walls of your puckered asshole, the lube he pumped in with his slender fingers dripping out as he presses you to the shower wall, a hand coming forward to fondle your tits as his face falls onto your shoulder, grunting into your ear while he pistons in and out of your tight hole. 

You can barely move a muscle by the time you’re done, body and mind numb from both the exhaustion and overstimulation as he pulls the covers over the two of you, limbs entangled with each other’s, skin against skin, his hands rubbing circles onto your spine.

“No one’s ever going to hurt you again.” 

You’re barely conscious as he whispers that, humming and burying your face deeper into his cozy heat as he presses a kiss to the top of your head. You do not notice the solemn drop of moisture that escapes his eye, falling onto your cheek, a thumb brushing it away just as quickly, as if it was never there. Just as he wishes he could brush away his own existence from your life- no- just as he was going to.

“...I promise.”

---

When your eyes flutter open, they are not met with the moon.

Instead, the light of the rising sun casts a rosy hue across your room. And for once, you do not feel cold as you spread out your legs to take more of the space on the expanse of your empty bed. The sunlight does not feel like a curse anymore, even if the nostalgia of the moon’s glow stays buried somewhere deep in your heart. 

But at least there’s no more crying going to bed alone each night; no more hours of scrolling through social media looking for someone who doesn’t exist; no more one night stands and low grade hookups trying to fulfil the ever-growing void in your heart. 

In fact, you find yourself going out more, singing along to songs in the shower once again, even making friends with a regular trio that starts coming into your bakery every other day. They told you they’re college students too, all around your age, and you find yourself smiling a little more than necessary at one of them, even if a pair of ocean eyes floods the back of your mind each time that you do. You’re still hurting and healing, but at least you are moving forward. 

“At least he kept his promise”  You find yourself thinking as you climb out of bed, sighing in disappointment at the clinking of charms around your ankle. 

—-

“At least I kept my promise.” 

It had become Gojo’s new-found mantra. Every time he saw you drunk out of your mind at a bar, deftly bribing the bartender to replace your ordered shots with water instead. Every time he saw a random body pressed to yours, their tongue exploring your sweet mouth as you pushed them into your apartment. And especially that one time he found himself standing over the half-beaten body of the man who had tried to grope you on the bus. 

“At least I kept my promise- at least she’s safe.”

He knew his actions were of a mad man. Even though he took care of the problem which had hurt you in the first place, he still found himself paranoid. Following you around every other night, making sure you were still here- still alive under the same sky as him, under the same sun and moon and stars. He told himself he was doing it for you- even if he found his heart swell every time he saw the familiar glint of the silver trinket around your ankle.

-----

“No way!” You find yourself laughing around a mouth full of mochi.  

“No- I swear he likes you, he just doesn't want to admit it, you know how he-” 

“What are you two talking about?”

You both immediately snap your mouths shut as he returns from the restroom, sliding into the seat on his side of the booth. 

“Nothing!” you reply in unison. 

“Anyways, do you want me to get you anything else? Something that this idiot wouldn't shove into my mouth?” You joke, tapping your pen against the notepad. 

“Hey! I just wanted you to taste how delicious the mochi was!”

“I know- I made it!”

A loud cough breaks your banter with the light haired boy, 

“I-I do actually want to ask for something”

“Of course, what can I get you? The ginger tea you like?”

“Well- what I want is-” he pauses, and you don’t miss the mischievous glint in the eyes of his friend sitting across the table. 

“I’d like to take you to the festival at the park.”

You’re halfway through writing it down on the notepad before you realise what he’s asked, your head snapping up to see the slightly flushed tint on his cheeks as he glares at the howling boy across the table. Your own face heats up as he looks towards you expectantly. 

“You don’t have to if you-”

“Pick me up at 4”

“Oh” butterflies race in your stomach at the smile that he gives you, “...okay, 4 it is.” 

------

Weeks go by and you don’t realise the slow mending of your heart. Your broken pieces coming together each time he holds your hand, each time he presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, each time he whispers words of affirmations into your ear, and each time he comforts your shaking body, apologising for kissing your brow- even if he doesn’t understand why it made you cry. 

Eventually, you learn to not mind being just a mere star in the vast expanse of the cosmo.

You didn’t care because he looked at you like you held the universe in your eyes, cradling your face with such gentleness as if you were precious china. You didn’t care because when his lips came down onto yours, it felt like the collision of stars- your own little supernovae in the curve of his cupid’s bow. You didn’t care because when you woke up, you’d find him peppering kisses across the purple constellations he left the night before. 

You didn’t care because you never woke up cold and alone anymore.

------

“I’ll be back in just a second.” 

You find yourself saying as you move your head off his lap, waving to your other two friends, their own counterparts lounging beside them. 

“Is everything okay?’ 

He’s always so tender- except for when he has you splayed across the bed on your stomach, hips thrusting into yours as he tells you what a good slut you are for him- just for him. Heat crawls up your face at the memory from a few nights ago. The fingers wrapping your hand snap your mind out of its perverse refuge. Looking down, you find concern-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Yeah, I just want to take a walk alone by the beach- get some air.” You reply, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips.  

The sound of the waves lapping against the shore in the dark and the fresh sea breeze on your face is refreshing. You make a mental note to thank Nobara for dragging you onto this trip. You stop as you find a cozy spot in the sand, giving you a perfect view of the moonlit sea.

You don’t know how long you sit there, thinking of a particular set of emerald eyes and long lashes, your smile faltering as the promise ring on your finger grazes the forgotten metal on your ankle. Your face remains neutral as you unhook it, even if it feels like cutting your own hand off, but that’s all there is to it - familiarity and nostalgia. There’s no blackhole in your chest, ready to open up and swallow you whole, there are no tears shed as you bury the piece of junk into the sand, and there is no looking back as you walk away, back into the arms of your precious ‘gumi. 

Gojo stands at the rooftop, one hand clutching the sand covered jewellery, the other pulling down a side of his blindfold as he watches you entangle yourself in the arms of another, laughing as he places a kiss on the top of your brow. You’re happy, that’s all that matters- still, the irony of the situation pricks at him - especially after all he did to keep you away from his world. 

He had initially found himself at a loss for words when you had told him that he was the moon, and you, just a star. If you were to ask him again, Gojo would agree, but with only half of it.

He may have been the moon, but you were a galaxy full of stars and planets that harboured dreams and wishes he could never fathom. His mind kept flickering back to the constellations he littered your body with as he now watched his own disciple press kisses into the crook of your neck. 

Nonetheless, he found his own lips twitching upwards- almost tragically, but the warmth in his chest was real as he saw the joy on your face. You were right; he was the moon after all. He had shone as bright as the sun itself despite not having any light of his own. Now he stood there watching the same light reflect off the dark-haired boy who held you in his arms, and suddenly, it all made sense.

Perhaps he should have found another way back then. Perhaps he shouldn’t have underestimated his ability to be able to protect you. Perhaps- 

it didn’t matter now. 

perhaps at the end of the day, the moon was nothing but a dreamer.

© suna-reversed — all rights reserved. please refrain from modifying, translating, reposting of any kind. plagiarism will NOT be tolerated.

[thot-writes]

MAN I HAD TOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS I DIDNT WANNA STOP‼️ i want to do oneshots for ALL the ikepri boys (eventually) but here’s the first bit. next on the docket is clavis, yves, and nokto

beastie boys and the hunter — part I (prologue & chevalier) (NSFW 18+);

You are a Child of the Forests, raised in the wilds of the south with your kin, the Blackroot tribe. Four years ago you were honoured with the title of Matriarch, something given to the most skilled female warrior of the tribe. As a Matriarch, your duty is to venture into the worlds beyond the wilds and accrue knowledge for future generations.

prologue;

You broke into the palace.

You, what many of these folks would consider a lowly savage, broke into the palace of Rhodolite.

Perhaps it was a bad idea — it definitely was a bad idea — but you were raised to always protect your friends and allies, so by your pride as a Matriarch you simply couldn’t not do this.

As you were sneaking in, shrouded in the cover of night, you spot an unfamiliar man with hair the colour of lavender. High-born from the looks of his clothes. One of the princes? Seems likely.

For a moment, you consider killing him, but then you think of your friend Emma and decide against it. This was a rescue mission, not a hunt. You creep towards him on the balls of your feet, keeping as low and silent as you could. He hasn’t seemed to notice you yet. Good.

By the time he realises someone is behind him, it’s too late. You sling a cloth around his mouth and yank him backwards, and he immediately struggles against you. He’s stronger than you thought he’d be, most other city-dwellers are soft and squishy, but you continue to overpower him.

You leave him gagged and hog-tied behind a rose bush and enter the palace through the door he left out of. The halls were dark and empty, but you were trained to make use of other senses whenever sight failed you, and you swiftly make your way through the building.

The feeling of cold marble and wool rugs against your bare feet makes you cringe, but you keep your disgust from distracting you as best you can.

Arguably, you should’ve planned better for this. You don’t know where Emma is being held, and city-dwellers always have far too many rooms. You’re out of your comfort zone here, so all you can do is quietly try each door and hope your friend is behind one of them.

It takes longer than you like, but eventually brute-forcing wins the day and you find Emma reading a leather bound book by candlelight. You enter the room and close the door behind you in one quick motion, Emma still enraptured in the contents of her book. You sigh silently, she’s never as aware as she should be.

“Emma,” you call gently as you make your way towards her.

She sits up and locks eyes with you, “[Name]! You’re here— what are you doing here? How’d you know where I was?”

You hold a finger to your lips. “When I came back to town I tried to find you and Rio, but you weren’t there. The city-dwellers told me you’d been taken to the palace.”

“So you broke in?” She finally puts her book away and strides towards you, taking your hands in hers. “You could get into a lot of trouble for this! You need to leave!”

“I know. And you’re coming with me.” 

Before any heroic rescuing can take place, Emma’s door bursts open and light floods the room. Damn it. You wasted too much time searching the rooms. Four men enter, only one of them a familiar face, and you let go of Emma’s hands to draw your bow and aim an arrow at the towering blond’s forehead.

“[Name]!” Rio calls out, eyes wide in surprise.

“I knew it,” the blond said, glancing between you and Emma. “Someone was here for Belle.”

He sees your arrow trained on him and a dangerous glint shines in his dark blue eyes. His sword is drawn and he stares you down. You can tell by his confident movements that he’s well-practiced with that blade, and you keep your eyes locked on him.

“Do you really think you’ll get out of here alive?” he questions, his voice low and threatening.

“Maybe. Do you think you’ll be able to get me before I land an arrow between your eyes?” you answer. His lips quirk up a little in response.

You feel a shaky hand on your arm and look over at Emma, whose body is wracked with fear. “[Name], please don’t do this. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, let’s just talk about it, okay?”

You hesitate for a moment and glance to Rio. He’s also pleading you with his eyes. You scowl and return your gaze to the stranger in your sights. “What’s there to talk about? These princelings kidnapped you.”

“Kidnapped?” the man with dark hair muses. “I assure you it’s nothing so egregious. Please lay down your weapons and let us speak.”

The shorter blond one lays a hand on the taller man’s back. “Brother, please sheathe your sword. It’s clear she’s not an assassin. At least not for Belle.”

The warrior glares at you, but ultimately follows his brother’s wishes and lowers the blade. You follow suit and relax your bowstring, re-holstering the arrow. You don’t trust this, but you’ll try.

The man — who tells you his name is Sariel — leads you to another room teeming with books and paper stacks. Before an arched window stands a sturdy richly coloured desk surrounded by more strange men, and to your surprise the lavender-haired man is here as well. He catches your eye and scoffs, partly in amusement and annoyance, he didn’t seem to be a fan of getting tied up — but not entirely displeased either.

Sariel introduces himself and the eight princes. The ones you met in Emma’s room are Yves and Chevalier, the fifth and second princes respectively.

They explain the situation with Emma. For the past five days, she’s resided in the palace with Rio working as Belle, some kind of commoner that chooses the next King of Rhodolite. It sounded like rubbish to you, but then again so does most “civilised” culture.

In turn you introduce yourself. You are the Matriarch of the Blackroot tribe, roughly eighteen months ago you met Emma and Rio and you became friends. Whenever you came through Rhodolite after an adventure you’d return to the city to meet with them again. You cared for them both, so when you caught word that they were taken to the palace you could only assume the worst.

Sariel seemed strangely empathetic to this (maybe Emma’s influence?), and offered to let you stay for the duration of Belle’s service as an “unofficial knight” of sorts. You didn’t want to leave them alone in the hands of princelings, so you reluctantly agreed.

-

Chevalier Michel;

This wasn’t the first time Chevalier disagreed with the minister’s decision, and it sure as fuck wouldn’t be the last. This whole Belle farce was bad enough, but now she was allowed two guard dogs in the palace? One of them a barefoot savage that preferred to sleep in the dirt rather than a bed, no less.

Ah well. He supposed it wasn’t all bad. Belle would almost certainly be targeted by their enemies, and if someone else was watching her it meant he didn’t have to waste time doing it himself.

A few days after the commotion, Chevalier rises early to head to the training grounds. He’s spent too long cooped up in a study, he doesn’t want his sword arm getting rusty.

He can barely hold back his displeasure when he sees a familiar scant-clad Forest Child already there. You’re training with your bow, lining shot after shot into the straw-stuffed training dummies, and internally he wants to command you away. He feels that you wouldn’t respect his authority even so, but he’ll try regardless. He does not want to deal with another headache right now.

Chevalier heaves a sigh as he runs a hand through his pale blond hair and approaches. “Stand aside,” he orders, “I wish to train, and you’re in my way.”

You turn back and frown incredulously at him. You make a vague motion towards the row of dummies that you weren’t practicing with. “There’s enough to go around, help yourself.”

He clicks his tongue against his teeth. “I don’t want to get shot by one of your stray arrows. Move aside, now.”

After a few tense seconds of mutual glaring, you relent and put your bow away, stepping away from the yard. He thinks he’s won and turns to the dummies, but soon you return with a couple of crude hand-axes.

“What are you doing?” he grunts, not even looking your way. “Didn’t I just tell you to leave?”

“I decided I’d switch to melee practice. That way you won’t get ‘shot by one of my stray arrows’ right?”

He scowls. What a meddlesome woman.

An idea hatches in his mind, and instead of striking an inanimate object, he grabs a wooden practice sword and raises it in your direction. “If you’re not going to leave, at least make yourself useful. You will spar with me.”

You’re taken aback. Big old high and mighty prince wants to spar with a savage? And a woman, no less. From what you know of city-dwellers, women seemed to be treated as the more delicate sex, so it’s surprising that he’s willing to humour you.

“You want to spar with me, princeling?” you smirk, resting a fist on your hip.

“I’ve heard tales of the Forest Children’s aptitude in combat. If you wish to remain Belle’s protector, show me you’re worthy,” he answers nonchalantly. Then he looks at you with a challenging smirk of his own. “Not that I think you can touch me.”

You’re not too proud to say that you were enticed by his proposal. You drop your axes to the side and pick up a wooden sword like his, and return to face him.

“The rules are simple. Whoever lands a strike on the other one first, wins. And try not to feel too disappointed when you lose, Forest Child. Not everyone is made to be a hunter,” he mocks.

Your fingers twitch in annoyance. What could this prissy little lord possibly know about being a hunter? You look forward to wiping that look off his face.

You ready yourselves and he calls out when to begin. You decide to take the easiest course of action: rush him first and gage his strengths.

You’re faster than he expects, but he blocks your feeble attack easily and flings you back. His movements are fluid and confident, he’s faster and stronger than the average man, you can tell he’s a deadly combatant. But despite all his strengths, you can see an opening. It’s small, but it’s something.

You exchange blows in a flurry of blades, neither of you giving the other any quarter as you attempt to make contact. Finally, you see an opportunity.

You swing at him again and he meets your sword with his, but before he can push you back you kick at his imperfect stance and topple him. He tries to regain his balance before he falls, and you take the chance to fling his sword away. You grab his outstretched hand and twist it behind his back, bringing him to his knees with you standing tall behind him.

With a tap of wood against his neck, you say triumphantly, “Dead.”

Chevalier huffs, or perhaps it was a laugh? And despite not being able to see his face, you can tell he’s not too broken up about losing. “Not a bad showing. Maybe the stories of your kind aren’t all baseless.”

Something in him stirs as you let him get to his feet. It’s an unfamiliar feeling, and it’s almost like his consciousness is fighting against it, but he feels… respect? Admiration? Like he’s found someone useful for a change.

And he must admit, a woman with your kind of strength is… amusing. Maybe even a bit arousing — though he wasn’t ready to admit that to himself quite yet.

You don’t exchange any more words with him that day. And when you’re both in the training yard again the next morning, you say nothing then too. You spar again, another win for you.

The next day, he wins.

The day after that, you win.

It becomes a routine thing for you. Sometimes he manages to get ahead, but for the majority you’re able to best him.

A lesser man might feel emasculated, his pride damaged by the thought of being weaker than a woman, but Chevalier was no such man. Instead of brooding, he found your spars enlightening. Each morning he learned a little more about himself, and a little more about you.

For example, he hadn’t noticed that he guarded the right side of his body more than his left. Or that you reacted faster to sound than you did to sight.

You went from just sparring to discussing tactics, both on the battlefield and out in the woods.

“The ideal way to hunt is for the hunter to have already finished by the time the prey realises it,” he tells you simply as he thumbs through a tome. You bark out a laugh before you realise he’s not joking. “What, pray tell, do you find so funny?”

“I mean that’s… common knowledge isn’t it?” You tilt your head. “Obviously the best outcome for a hunt is to kill your target before it notices you. You can’t hunt something very well if it’s run off. That’s like saying ‘the best way to write a letter is with a quill and paper’, like… yes, thank you, I think everybody knows that.”

He scowls at you and lets out a disapproving snort. “Why did Sariel let a savage live on palace grounds, again?” A subtle glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s being playful, in his own way.

You lean back in your chair and throw your arms up. “Oh, so now I’m a savage. You’re fine with being seen as a hunter when it means you can use cool metaphors, but when the time comes to rip out a boar’s throat with your teeth and drink it’s blood you’re nowhere to be found!”

Chevalier stares at you silently. It’s unclear if he’s trying to determine your seriousness, or if he’s just completely unamused.

You weren’t joking though, you really did drink animal blood. It was a good way to offset the lack of fruits and vegetables in your diets. Roughly 90% of what Children of the Forest ate was meat.

“You…” he begins, but then he stops. He didn’t actually know how to respond to that, so he just decides not to. He turns back to his book.

You slump a little. “That’s it?” You were expecting him to get snarky at you so you could banter a little bit.

He notices your disappointment and smirks to himself. It’s kind of cute how you always want to pick a fight with him— wait, did he just think that?

Over time he comes to notice you more. Your curves, your muscles, the tattoos that sprawled across your body (a mark of being a Matriarch, you’d told him), and soon he became irritated with how little your leathers concealed.

It was common practice for Children of the Forest to run around half-naked or even fully naked, and at first he thought little of it but now it got on his nerves.

Were you intentionally trying to seduce him? Were you and your ilk always so shameless? Did you not know how other men would look at you? Did you not care?

Other men… The thought of them seeing as much of you as he did bothered him. He tried to quash these feelings, but it seemed the harder he fought against them the more they grew.

He lost a lot more in your spars. He’d get distracted at the way your breasts bounced, or the intense look you’d get in your eyes. You noticed something was off, but you paid it no mind. At least, you tried not to.

But it had been three weeks since you arrived, and Chevalier had gone from improving rapidly to making rookie mistakes.

You knock him on his ass — something you normally wouldn’t have been able to do — and stand above him with your sword lined up to his face. “This is getting ridiculous now,” you chide him. “What’s wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? You expect to be King when you can’t even watch your stance?”

He glares up at you. “Hold your tongue, [Name]. My patience only goes so far.”

“So does mine!” you retort. “At first you were a worthy fighter, but now it feels like I’m whipping a new-blood!”

Damn it, you’re right and he hates it. He still fights just as well, if not better, with other opponents but he continuously falters with you. He wasn’t ashamed when he lost to you the first time, but he certainly was now.

He tries to get up to leave, but you knock him down again. “That’s enough, wildling. I’ve had my fill of you for the day, let me leave.”

“Then leave.”

Chevalier eyes you curiously and tries to get up again. Again you knock him down. He snarls at you, rage bubbling in his stomach at the act of being repeatedly humiliated.

When you knock him down again, he grabs the practice sword in your hand and pulls you forward. It’s enough to throw you off your balance and he’s able to stand while you fumble. He gives you a final glare as he spins on his heel and starts to walk away.

He doesn’t get very far before you dash in front of him and block his way. “You can’t own up to your mistakes, so you try to avoid them?” you spit. “Strike me and I’ll let you go.”

“I’m not playing these games with you. I have more important things to do than play fight with a tree-hugger. Stand aside.” His aura is more commanding than it usually is. He isn’t playing with you, not this time at least.

You answer with only two words. “Make. Me.”

“If you think you can threaten me in my own home, you’re sorely mistaken. I am the rightful King of these lands, and savage or not you will respect that.”

You make no attempts to move, and he sees the only way to get through to you is force. He grabs the blade he’d discarded when you knocked him down earlier and readies himself.

Before you can blink, he’s on you. You only narrowly managed to block his attack and he winds back and strikes again. There’s passion in his hits now, something that was lacking these past few days, and you prepare yourself for a hard fight.

He moves faster than you’ve seen him before, but there’s still a sense that he’s struggling with something.

Like he’s running.

“You think you can just come into my palace and treat me how you want,” he grunts, landing blow after blow on your sword until the wood begins to splinter. “Who do you think you are?!”

When he pushes you back, you push him harder. The ferocity in his mannerisms continues to intensify, and you wonder if maybe he’ll win today. You’ll be damned if you make it easy for him.

“What do you plan to do about it?” you taunt, your breath becoming strained as you put more effort into your parries and attacks.

“You’re a fool, [Name], and I plan to put you in your place.”

The fight is the most draining one you’ve had thus far. You’re holding on, barely, and you notice the subtle signs of him struggling to keep up too.

Despite the sweat beading on your face, sticking strands of hair to your skin, you find enough energy to snicker at him. “Are you sure you’re not just horny for me?”

He pauses for a split second, and you knock the sword from his hands. He gains his composure and clenches his hands by his side, waiting for you to land the final hit.

But it never comes.

You toss your sword to the side and forcefully hold his chin between your forefinger and thumb. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to just take you?”

A scowl has once again carved into his beautiful features. “I want nothing of the sort. You insult me with these accusations, Forest Child.”

You let go and trail a finger down his jawline, following the contour of his neck and resting at his clavicle. He swallows thickly as a fire stirs in his belly, a primal desire the likes of which he’s never felt before.

“You city-dwellers are so prudish. Sex isn’t something to be ashamed of. You’re not as subtle as you think, prince Chevalier.” You smile coyly at him, you know you’re riling him up. “I see the way you stare at my tits. And my ass. I’m not offended, I’m just amused that someone as strong as you can’t come out and simply ask me to fuck you.”

A trickle of sweat drops down his temple, and despite his best wishes he can feel his excitement growing. “You’re truly trying to seduce me so openly? Your people have no shame. A woman shouldn’t approach so casually.”

Your gaze drops to his lips. “Your backwards social norms mean nothing to me. I have always approached, and I will continue to do so.” The finger resting on his collarbone trails a lazy path down to his lower stomach. “Besides, I can hear your heartbeat quickening. I wonder, if I was to look in your trousers, would you be soft?”

Chevalier knew that was a rhetorical question. You already had your answer, you just wanted him to admit it. He deigned to say nothing, and he couldn’t bring himself to stop you as you stepped in closer and undid his belt.

Before your fingers could make contact with his desperately yearning cock, he growled darkly. “If you do this, I won’t be responsible for what happens.”

“You’re welcome to try, you wouldn’t be the first,” you chuckle. “But no one’s managed to come out on top, if you get my meaning.”

Somehow, that didn’t surprise him. But his urges will let him resist no longer, and he watches you earnestly as you reach your hand into his pants and stroke the sensitive underside of his dick. He sucks in a breath but lets you continue.

You only stroke him a couple of times before you draw your hand away, and he almost groans in anguish. You hold your hand up to his mouth and say, “Spit.”

For a split second he’s confused, but he quickly gets the picture and leans his face down to your hand. He puckers his lips as a steady trickle of saliva drops down into your palm, and his deep blue eyes are locked on yours.

When he’s finished, he asks you, “Good enough?”

You grin at him. “We’ll see.”

Your hand goes back to his needy cock, and already he can feel the difference. The wet, slightly sticky feeling of his saliva coats him from tip to base, and his eyes almost flutter closed. His lips part slightly as he breathes out steady pants, his gaze locked on you through his long, pale eyelashes.

He’s quite big, you note, and his dick has a slight curve to it. You’re sure no one’s complained with him in the boudoir, but it takes far more than a big dick to impress you.

You twist your hand around him as you stroke, making sure that you touch every inch of him. You’re quite skilled, and Chevalier wonders momentarily if there’s anything you can’t do well.

The answer to that is read, of course. But you’ve never shared that with him.

The heat between you builds as you bring him closer to the edge, and unable to hold back anymore he leans towards you and captures your lips.

You smile into the kiss, and your satisfied snicker is swallowed by him. Chevalier rests his hands on your waist, running them over your hips and your ass as your tongues explore each other’s mouths.

His hips gyrate against your hand, and precum flows from the tip of his prick as you continue to work your magic on him. You part from the kiss and attack his neck with your teeth — thankfully, not to rip it out, but instead to leave a white hot trail of kisses and hickeys.

He groans as he tilts his head forward, feeling his release quickly approaching. “Fuck… just like that… you’ll make me cum, [Name].”

You laugh against his ear. “A prince getting jacked off by a wildling in broad daylight, how embarrassing.”

He grips your shoulders as he pumps himself into your hand. “You are… nngh.. an insufferable woman.”

You smile to yourself and he throws his head back as he shoots ropes of hot cum onto your hand and torso, giving a final grunt as he does so. His mind goes blank at the pleasure, and he slowly winds down as small spurts of cum drop to the ground beneath you.

You part — all too soon for his liking — and you have an annoyingly pleased look about yourself. Chevalier tidies himself up and goes back to his default state of looking mildly irritated. You’re the one who has his cum on you, so why does it feel like you just got the better of him?

“So,” you break the silence, “good talk. I should go get cleaned up, I’ll let you return to your princely duties.”

As you walk past him, you spare a hungry glance at his thick, firm ass and grab a handful. He jolts and twists back to face you, but by then you’re a couple steps out of his reach. “I’ll look forward to exploring the rest of you next time, Chevalier,” you say with a lecherous grin. That ass really seemed magical.

“Don’t get your hopes up, you perverted Forest Child,” he calls back. But you both know that’s a bluff, he’s just trying to maintain a semblance of his pride.

You wave a lazy hand in farewell as you saunter off, and he’s left staring dumbly in your direction.

This won’t work out. He’s sure of it. You’re from two different worlds, ones that can never merge no matter how many kingdoms he unites. Someday you’ll have all you need to fulfil your duty as Matriarch. Someday you’ll leave Rhodolite for the southern forests and it will be the last time he ever sees you, but for now…

At least for now, he knows he’ll see you in the morning.

[han-shinsuke]

t h e b r e a k f a s t t a b l e

[🔞] k e n t o n a n a m i [‼️]

s m u t • s m u t • s m u t

ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ɴsғᴡ

If only you were at home, listening to sleeping at last and maybe with a cup of hot cocoa in hand, you would really appreciate the heavy pour of rain outside. However, you weren’t. Therefore, you must try to not show uneasiness while he’s around— while it was only you and him inside their manor.

“The generator isn’t working,” he informs you after inspecting the machine in the cellar. Kento turns off the penlight then sat on the chair beside you.

As reported by, the thunderstorm will last for two hours. A hundred and twenty minutes of being alone with your principal sponsor, Kento Nanami. “We will be fine. We have enough candles to get us through this darkness.”

Are you sure of it? Can you keep your calm around him? Especially when he’s that close? You can even smell his natural peachy scent.

“Do you not like me?” your face almost slipped from your palm. Why would he think that?!

“No.” you reply, absentmindedly licking your bottom lip. “You sponsor my studies and allowance and you bought me an apartment. How can I not like you, sir?”

Just to clear things, he is not your sugar daddy. You were not obliged to give something in return, though, you’d be glad if he wants to. Besides, you are not the only one he sponsors. There are twenty in total including you.

“Then why are you so distant?” he leans his back on the backrest, searching immediate answer from your intriguing reaction.

Yes, you were not aware but he finds your manners interesting.

You let out a low and defeated laugh.

“It’s because I like you romantically, sir.” you avow.

“Oh.” his response, “you’re only eighteen.”

“Can I not like you just because I’m young?” you sigh, looking away. Watching the rainwater rolls down the glass wall. “I lost my virginity last month, sir. I heard from your exes that you didn’t fuck virgins.”

What were you thinking, really? Spurting private matters like it’s some kind of gossips.

You heard him coughed. You laugh, “whom do you surrendered your innocence to?” he asks.

“Megumi Fushiguro, sir.”

Why do you have to be so polite? It’s driving him mad. His chair creaks. You eye him in question. He transfers the vase to the most secured spot.

“Quit the talking, baby, let’s fuck.”

Your heart races when he sits you on the tabletop, parting your legs. He creates an opening between your thighs. Everything about this man is thick so the width fuels your desires. He’s standing between your legs, sliding his palms up and down your sides.

You remove his shirt. Tracing his beefy muscles using your fingertips. You gasp when you reached his hard packs. You went lower, inserting a hand pass over his waistband. Kento let out a throaty moan when you palm his bulge inside his pants.

You were doing right, just right to make him close his eyes and gasp for air. You run your tongue in between his chest, hand still busy putting pressure on his other head. Damn. You can feel your own heat juicing.

“Do you want more, sir?” you ask, still licking him, moving far to the left, you poke his nipplexx using your tongue then eventually, started sucking it.

“Fuck, baby~ have you done this before with Megumi?” his breath is shaking though he can still speaks clearly.

From palming his head, your hand proceeds stroking his length, stretching its skin down from the tip. Nanami growls like a beast, you did pretty well with your hand so he grabs your nape and tilts your face up.

“I didn’t, sir. But Megumi had a mouthful feast on his study table. He devoured me like a feral man.”

You retract your hand from his pants. He moans in disappointment. He loves how you work your hand underneath his bottoms.

He didn’t talk after that. Nanami helps you with your clothes, stripping you out from your restrictions. You serve yourself... naked and flushed on his breakfast nook. You were no different from those sluts he fucked before. You crave for him so you do the service.

Nanami disrobes the remaining pieces of his clothes before pulling you on your ankles. He leans down to your face, kissing your chin first. That first kiss gives you butterflies compared to how Megumi taught you the basics of kissing. He may be your first of everything but nothing can compete with this man that makes you feel 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 by just kissing your chin.

Your both hands were pinned on each sides of your head. He examines you from head to toe. Your heat throbs, his tip is poking your abdomen. He’s long and thick. Will it fit? Of course, you're this ready for him. You anchor your legs behind him, pulling him down.

“Put it inside, sir, I’m ready.” you beg with your fluttering eyes. He teases your lips with his, brushing slightly. You whine. Pleading again.

He knows you were so desperate for him so he ended the thirst with a very rough kiss. Sucking both lips like its some kind of delights made for him. He surely enjoys kissing you torridly that it makes you thrash for air when he didn’t let go of your mouth.

That made him laugh. When your breathing return to normal, Nanami claims your lips again, this time, he’s moving slow, so slow that you didn’t notice his mouth has already left yours gaping open. He’s now down on your neck, sucking while a hand is palming your folds. You grope his right ass, earning a grunt from him.

His mouth keeps traveling down, it reached your bare chest. He takes in a bud inside his hot mouth. Sucking it, biting it. You moan. You just keep moaning and at the same time grinding your leaking pearl against his erection.

He pops out your first nipplexx, he does the same to the other. Flicking his tongue against it. Sucking it as well unti it turns red.

He goes down again, another spot—the most vulnerable one is waiting for him. He adjusts himself, groping your titsx hard while pinching its both buds.

“Aahh sir~” what? Did you just moan like a slut? You make him smirk and feel proud of himself. He gropes you again, even harder this time. He hears more of your 𝒂𝒂𝒉𝒉𝒔 and 𝒐𝒐𝒉𝒉𝒔. You satisfy him by just moaning his name and how good he makes you feel. He squeezes your sides, moving down to your thighs. He hit you there. He didn’t stop until he sees stars in your eyes. One star rolls down. Nanami licks his lips, planting soft kisses on your face.

“Ooohhh gosh, sir~” your body jolts when he tugs your clitx before latching his tongue between your folds.

Damn. Nanami eats better.

You grab onto his hair, gripping there. He dives deeper into your cunt, tongue lolling in and out of your still tight core.

“Hmm~ you taste like a real lady hmm~” fine, reaper! You can take her soul now.

Nanami’s 𝒉𝒎𝒎𝒔 sounds so sexy and you push more of your drenched cunt toward his face. He seems to appreciate your little movement so he eats deeper and thumb you harder.

“Sir—sir! Aahh~” surprise! You spill in his mouth and he’s grateful for your milk so he slurps everything and gives your clenching cunt a good run using his tongue.

You were panting when he pushes your legs to your chest, locking those tight with his forearms. He joins you on the tabletop, folding you in half. His hands grips tightly on the edge and pressing his knees firmly on the table with you in between.

Suddenly, you remember what Megumi had told you before that if a guy fold a lady to half, he’s been meaning to breed her.

Now. Now. Now.

You start to panic. He notices it. You receive his unusual smirk. You put your hands on his shoulders, shaking your head.

“S—sir— don’t fuck a baby into me, please.”

Instead of a reply or an assurance that he would not, Nanami claims your lips again, masking the slow and eerie penetration of his cockx into you.

He earns a loud gasp from you when he installed completely his length inside you. It stretches you really wide that a lone sob escapes your lips.

“What’s wrong, baby?” he taunts you, caressing your face. “I’m inside you. Full and deep. You will be fine, trust me.”

Your lips quivers when he start pulling out. You can feel how thick he is and how farther his tip reached inside.

He can feel your shaking so he kisses you again, focusing on your neck.

“H—hold—please sir aahnnn~” your whine is pure and appealing. He cannot wait any longer. It’s just that this is not his way. He loves ramming a pussyxx harder and deeper. He loves being in control.

“Be still, baby. I will move hard now.”

Again, what’s the use of shaking your head no? He slams right there. Just right there when he crashes his mouth on yours to drown your cries.

He’s tight. Hard. And strong that with every thrust and every pull and with every ruthless push, the table that supports the weight of the two people atop it, creaks louder.

He shakes your world and uses your womanhood the way it supposed to be fucked. He didn’t stop. He can’t be stopped. Not this time, not at this moment that he loves how you clench around him and how your cunt responds so sweetly.

“Here comes my seeds, baby~ take it all my pretty baby~” he pounds you so hard at the time his semenx spills inside you, combining with your juice. He pumps you even harder, grunting. While you, all you did is moan his name and that he should not cum inside you but he still did.

He fucks his jizz inside you, watching it leaks from your throbbing cunt.

You end up staring at nothing.

You still feel it dripping from your hole.

Nanami takes you in his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. Still in dazed, the both of you dip in the warm water in the tub. You on his lap, legs spread.

“Wha–what are you doing?” you breathe when Nanami slides his hand between your thighs, dipping his fingers between your folds.

He kisses your nape from behind, moving to the side before ending on your shoulder that he licks and bites.

“What else my pretty baby? Finger fucking you hmm~”

Just when he starts rubbing hard circles on your clitx, the rain pours heavily, drowning your moans once again.

You have proven the rumors surrounding his name. Kento Nanami fuck better in the dark.

[iovchlde]

So I saw a glorious art of Kaeya where the artist hc’d that Kaeya has a patch of burnt skin from Diluc’s Phoenix years ago(maybe found on one of his shoulders to a side of his neck), can I request for a Hurt/comfort where his s/o finds him shirtless one day and finds the burned skin, instead of responding to his flirty remark, his s/o just approached him, and asked “this was from that time.. wasn’t it?”, like s/o knows and he knows they won’t spill but the memory is still so fresh and heartbreaking that his s/o saw him just crumble then and there and has nothing to offer but their company, patience, silence and love. This is so wordy and too detailed for me to spew during 8:30 am but I hope you enjoy making this anyways thank youuuuuu

a lingering touch.

in which kaeya shows a moment of vulnerability, as you lay a lingering touch on the scar that haunts him of his past.

pairing.

kaeya x gn!reader

genre.

hurt/comfort

author’s note.

BYE— WHEN I SAW THIS PROMPT I IMMEDIATELY SHOWED IT TO MY FRIEND JDSKDJSK i got so excited T^T

if you ever come across that art piece again, please do share 😩‼️ idk but this might just be my fav hc from now on. like can you imagine the emotional baggage that comes with getting a scar from someone that means a lot to you, especially in a moment of weakness— IMAGINE diluc seeing that scar years later...

kaeya would always have that same reaction when his hand would graze against that familiar patch of marred skin. his touch would linger for a second too long, trailing the edges of the scar, and a faint frown would tug at the corner of his lips. the scar isn’t something that’s noticeable at first glance; hidden away by the safety of his clothes, or covered by the hair that falls over his shoulder. but under the ridges of his fingertips, it’s easy to feel all the bumps and imperfections, and it’s easy to be reminded that it’s there.

in moments like these, it’s hard not to lose his train of thought, and just freeze in his spot. it’s almost reflex as his eyes would flutter shut, and it would seem like the feel of it stings— the scar itself does not, but the memory that floods in along with it does. as much as kaeya wished it wouldn’t, small flashes of memories loved to litter his mind and take over. it makes him lose his grounding in reality; it comes crashing in like waves, and no matter how much he stands back up, he’s toppled over by another.

“kaeya?” a soundless gasp leaves his lips, and he’s harshly tugged back into reality at the sound of your voice. it’s quiet and questioning, and it’s easy to hear the concerned lilt in your words. he snaps his head towards you quickly, his hands subtly flipping his hair to cover his shoulder, but he knew. you saw it, and it was obvious from the way your eyes didn’t meet his and stayed on his bare skin.

and so he takes his chance to play it off, his small tactic to keep his walls built up.

“take a picture, it lasts longer.” comes his words, coquettish and flirty by nature. as quickly as his vulnerability had peaked through, a small sliver showing itself to you, it was quickly masked away by his flirty facade; teasing smirk with a playful glint in his eyes. “sweetheart?”

you stay silent, with your lips pressed tight into a line, and fists clenching slightly at your sides.

you already knew that this had something to do with diluc, and that he and diluc had some history. though not disclosed in detail, it was easy to tell from the way the atmosphere would thicken into suffocating clouds whenever they were in the same room. more often than not, sharp words with hidden meanings would be exchanged, and their glares were one not too friendly. they weren’t subtle in expressing their differences, not in the least.

but kaeya never really said why— there was always a falter in his breath whenever it was brought up, and it would quickly be sweeped away by a different topic. you weren’t oblivious to social cues, and you knew that it was something he didn’t want to talk about. with respect to his privacy, you never really pried much into that matter.

there’s a moment of strained silence shared between the two of you as you rack your minds on things to say, and you both fall empty-handed. “i guess there’s no beating around the bush this time,” he finally breaks the silence, pushing a hand through his hair as he sighs. from behind his eyelashes, he peers at you, and you’re staring right back at him “you saw it, didn’t you?”

“yeah, i did.” you admit, chewing at your bottom lip with the flesh captured between your teeth. your lips open as if to speak, but there’s hesitance behind your actions. truth to be told, you didn’t know how to go about this situation. there wasn’t really a time where you’d been put in a place where you were blatantly exposed to something of his past— as much as you were curious. now given the chance to ask more, you didn’t know what to say, and your mouth ran dry with words.

you saw the way he looked when you’d first entered the room. he looked defenseless and impuissant as he seemed lost in his thoughts, and a part of you immediately understood that this was something more than just a battle scar. “this is from the time… isn’t it?”

there’s a beat of silence before he answers.

“yeah,” comes his short answer. it’s a fresh memory, despite happening so many years back. the emotions in the heat of the moment and the pain that seared his skin was ingrained in his memory, etched so deeply. he was yet to overcome it, yet to gather the strength to tell the story without his voice betraying him. “but it’s not something i wish to talk about, right now,” he mutters truthfully.

kaeya didn’t even want to cry today.

“do you want me to give you some space?” you ask, preparing to make your way towards the door. but his hand keeps you in place, tugging at your wrist to stop you from moving. as he looks at you, you can see the raw emotion swirling in his eye. they’re pleading and unguarded—

“don’t go.” he butts in.

—and his walls he’d built up had crashed and burned.

with silent understanding, you turn your back to him with a knowing look, your face pointed straight forward as you stare up ahead at the wall. “you can hold me,” you say, giving him the silent and subtle cue. with hesitant movements, he wraps himself around you, pressing tight against the warmth of your body. “tell me what i can do to help.”

he didn’t feel like crying today— he wasn’t counting on it. he was content with simply staying in your arms until he felt better.

but it’s always the most simple words that had lumps forming in his throat; it catches him off-guard, and makes it feel as if his tears are threatening to swallow him whole. that feeling pricked at kaeya, and he hated the way his body reacted so much to your words. no matter how hard he clenched his jaw, or how much he batted his eyes to suppress the tears, his own body was starting to betray him.

so kaeya presses his face against your back, the crown of his forehead leaning against your shoulder, and his hold on you is firm. “please stay with me,” he mumbles softly, fingers digging into your waist as he brings you closer, with the fabric tightening where his hands ball into small fists. it’s hard to ignore the desperation in his voice, and the way his body shakes slightly with every word, mere seconds away from crumbling against you. “stay with me, like this. that’s all i ask.”

“i’m always here to stay,” you reassure, all while bringing a hand to brush your fingers through his locks. he doesn’t know what it is, but at your words, he breaks; the tears that constantly pricked at his eyes begin to pour out and silent sobs escape past his lips. the feeling of years of pent up frustration, anger, confusion and hurt— they all narrowed down into this one moment of vulnerability. once the tears start falling, it’s hard to stop the rest, and all he could do was cry into your shoulder.

you two stand in the middle of the room for god knows how long, your legs turning numb from standing— yet, oddly enough, it’s comforting. your head is tilted back, leaning into the warmth of kaeya, leaning into his touch that so desperately clings onto you. for things like these, you knew that this wouldn’t be enough to attenuate something as big as the burden he carries on his shoulders. you don’t know how long it’s been building up, and you don’t know how much he’s kept in, but you’re willing to help.

crying is an easy way to alleviate the pressure that builds up in the moment, but crying is an easy way to lift the heavy weight from your chest. as he pours out his heart, his tears staining the back of your clothes, he feels safe. he feels safe from the way you lean into him, and the way you hum a familiar tune that he likes, or the way you press feather-like touches as your fingers run down his arm.

“let it all out, kaeya. it’s okay.” you hum, and you lay a warm hand against his that lay on your side. you squeeze it reassuringly, lacing your fingers in with his and holding it up to your lips, pressing a chaste kiss against his skin. “i’ll wait with you— however long it takes to heal.”

with scars that take time to heal, you were willing to give him all the patience and love he needed along the way, and he’s forever thankful.

[pottersfia]

putting on an act | hp x fem!reader

part three

part four

masterlist

warnings: it’s pretty long (for me at least), barely looked over sorry, swearing, fluff, tension😁😁, mention of sex, angst at the end, NO CHO SLANDER‼️‼️

prompts:

5: “DONT COME IN! WE’RE UH- HAVING SEX!”

20: top of head kisses

48: “Ugh our kids are gonna be awesome”

a/n: he looks so hot in this gif bye

through this endeavor, harry had noticed something; you’ve never been on a date together. he figured it probably seemed weird from an outsiders point of view, no one (not even ron and hermione) knew how your relationship started. one day you were known as best friends and the next you were locking hands anytime you were in view of others.

he was honestly nervous of the idea. was he really taking you on a date because of cho or because of you? but on the other hand, it could be an opportunity to somehow strengthen this fake relationship. it was a perfect excuse, if anything it’d be more proof to other that you were actually dating.

you woke up on a saturday morning to the sun shining on your face. you got up, lazily and got ready to go out for breakfast in the great hall.

“good morning, sleepyhead.” harry said to you as you sat next to him.

“good morning.” you yawned and leaned your head in your hand, eating your food.

“today’s a hogsmeade day, hopefully you didn’t forget.” you smiled at harry’s words, glad you’d have a chance to get out.

“you’re right, it is.” you replied.

“i was thinking we could go on a date.” you looked up at him, slightly taken off guard.

“really?” you asked. harry nodded.

“we could go to honeydukes then somewhere else, i don’t know whatever you want.” he said as he turned back to his food. you smiled, the idea of being on a date with him sending butterflies to your stomach.

“yeah, we could go to the three broomsticks and out by the lake after. the weather’s pretty nice today.” he looked back at you with a smile and nod.

“sounds excellent.”

“what sounds excellent?” ron’s voice was suddenly heard as he and hermione sat down.

“we’re going on a date today.” you told them.

“so i’ll be stuck with ronald the whole time?” hermione exclaimed.

“hey! i’m pretty good company if i do say so myself.” he replied.

“keep telling yourself that.”

you and harry laughed at their bickering as the conversations carried on.

you were currently sitting with harry at the three broomsticks, each enjoying a butterbeer.

“you’re telling me you’d want five kids?” you laughed and so did he.

“it’s just a thought, realistically maybe two or three.” he replied.

“i agree, my kids will at least have one sibling.” you nodded. “what would you name them?” harry thought for a moment.

“well i’d definitely want to use my parents names somehow, even if it’s just a middle name.” he said. you smiled.

“i have a whole list of names.” you said.

“of course you do.” he laughed and so did you. “ugh, our kids are gonna be awesome.” you felt your face heat up at the comment and let out another small laugh as you went into a few moments of comfortable silence.

“so, um, how’s the cho situation going?” as much as you wanted to forget any of this was about someone else, you felt obligated to ask. you wanted to know where his feelings were.

“oh, right uh,” he looked up and saw cho enter, how ironic. they shared a quick moment of eye contact and a smile. “ok i think? we’ve only really talked a few times. i don’t know what i’m supposed to do at this point.” you looked between harry and cho with a sigh, taking your last sip of butterbeer.

“why don’t we go now.” you said, harry looked at you and smiled. he stood up and held your hand, walking out with you.

the two of you laid out on a blanket by the black lake, sun shining on your skin and the sound of yours and harry’s soft laughter in the air.

“do we have anymore grapes left?” harry asked you. you sat up and looked at the bowl that sat between you two. there were only two grapes left. you grabbed one of them and looked down at harry.

“open up, potter.” you said. harry sat up and raised an eyebrow at you.

“y/n, we both now your aim is rubbish.” he said. you scoffed and place a hand over your chest in mock offense.

“ouch that one went right to the heart.” he laughed at your act and gestured for you to throw the grape at him. you threw the small fruit and watched as he stared at it with his mouth open just for it to bounce off his forehead and into the grass.

“oops?” you said and you both fell into laughter. you looked at the bowl again and grabbed the last grape. “one last grape left.” you held it out to him. he went to take it from your hand but you pulled away. he looked at you and you shot him a playful smile. he reached again but failed.

the act turned into an all out war filled with teasing and laughter. that was until you stretched your hand up over your head and not realizing how close you were, harry reached for it. in an attempt to move your hand backwards you ended up falling over harry following suit and catching himself on his hands. your laughter stopped as you realized the position you were in. harry was hovering right on top of you. his eyes met yours and his breath hitched as he was unsure of what to do.

the moments you spent staring at each other felt like hours. your mind was racing until you snapped yourself out of it with a nervous laugh.

“uh, harry?” you practically whispered.

“r-right, uh sorry about that.” he said as he sat back up. you sat up, trying to collect yourself after what just happened. you looked at harry to find he was staring blankly at you. you smiled and ate the grape that was still in your hand.

“what-” harry realized what you did and you laughed at his reaction. the two of you laid back down in your previous position, staring at the darkening sky. you lingered in silence.

you could’ve sworn that in the moment you noticed harry checking you out. the image ran back in your head and you noticed how you stared down at your lips. was it possible he actually liked you? he was being pretty distant from cho. you needed to find out for yourself.

harry was conflicted. practically the whole day he had let his mind wonder on to the idea of being with you but it was always interrupted by reality. at the three broomsticks the presence of cho snapped him out of it, during the picnic “date” your teasing and comments that he interpreted as friendly banter interrupted it, and just now the moment you shared being cut short interrupted it. all he wanted to do in that moment was lean down and kiss you but he couldn’t. he would never do something to ruin your friendship.

“if i’m being honest, being in a relationship is a nice change from being single.” harry’s words interrupted the silence. you turned your head to him.

“really? why’s that.” you asked, amused. he shrugged.

“i don’t have to deal with the constant weird tension around other girls. most of them have backed off.” he turned to look back at you.

“ok mr. chosen one.” you laughed. “you’re welcome for helping with your female attention problem.”

“ok, when you say it like that it’s weird.” he laughed back. you shook you’re head, sitting up.

“it’s getting pretty late.” you commented. harry sat up too.

“yeah.” he stood up and so fid you. he picked up the bowl as you grabbed the blanket, folding it in your hands. you turned back to harry with a small smile, looking up at him.

“thanks for spending the day with me.” harry smiled back. he took a step closer to you and kissed the top of your head. your face heated up.

“n-no problem. you’re great company.” you held his hand and the two of you made your way back to the castle that is hogwarts.

•••

it was sunday night and the infamous weasly twins had the idiotic idea to throw their normally done on friday common room party.

you had to admit you were looking pretty good. the time you spent with harry on saturday really seemed to boost your mood so you wore your favorite outfit and let loose with your friends, get a little tipsy, and dancing the night away.

harry was practically drooling over you. it was one of the rare times he let himself really look at you. he couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face.

“oi, mate we exist too, ya know.” he felt the person tap his arm and looked back to see seamus with a cheeky grin. ron, dean, and neville shared the same look as they stared at him.

“what?” he said. they laughed and shook their heads. harry suddenly saw you walking towards him.

“harry!” you practically screamed.

“hello y/n.” he chuckled.

“you need to stop being a boring wallflower and dance with m-” you tripped a bit over your feet and spilled whatever was in that cup of yours on yourself. “oh no!” you exclaimed.

“godric y/n, uh,” he grabbed the cup away from you. “why don’t you get changed into something else, there’s a big red stain on you.”

“yes i can see that.” you whined. harry put an arm around your shoulder and led you to your dorm room. you opened the door and fell on your bed.

“ugh it’s so comfortable.” you sighed. harry laughed and kneeled next to you.

“do you wanna ho back out there?” he asked you. you sat back up and nodded vigorously. “get changed then.” you nodded again and went you your draws to get something new. without thinking twice, you began undressing.

“woah woah, y/n! i’m still here.” harry quickly turned around. you laughed.

“oops.” was your only comment. suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“Y/N! ARE YOU THERE?!” you heard one of your friends calling for you. you covered your body with the clothes you held, you and harry sharing panicked looks.

“u-uh YOU MIGHT NOT WANT TO OPEN THE DOOR!” you yelled back.

“YEAH D-DONT COME IN! WE’RE UH- HAVING SEX!” harry yelled after you, instantly regretted his words. you looked at him in disbelief and he shrugged.

“oh, I’LL BE GOING THEN, um SORRY!” they yelled back.

“really? we’re having sex?” you questioned.

“it was the first thing i thought of!” he replied. you shook your head.

“i bet you’d like to fuck me, huh?” you smirked. harry’s eyes went wide.

“what?” he asked. you laughed again as you opened your bathroom door and closed it to change.

•••

eventually you and harry got back to the party. you promised him you wouldn’t drink any more and went back to dancing.

after a while you found yourself sat down on a couch, listening to your friends nonsense conversation. in the corner if your eye you saw harry walking out of the common room. this was your chance. you stood up and followed him. you were going to ask harry about his feelings, maybe even confess your own. what’s the worst that could-

and there it was.

you saw harry kissing someone. but it wasn’t just someone, it was cho. you were in shock. you knew to cho’s knowledge he was in a relationship, but cho wasn’t what bothered you; it was harry. any hope that he liked you back was down the drain.

cho opened her eyes for a brief second and that’s when she saw you. she instantly pulled away. harry looked at her confused then followed her gaze and saw you. you looked like you were gonna break down in tears.

“y/n,” harry said. you ran away.

taglist:

[to be adding send me a message/ask!]

@inglourious-imagines

[sakiyo]

COOKING WITH THEM

[HEADCANONS]

how would late night/early morning cooking would go with atsumu, osamu, sakusa and suna

contains: food, mention of w33d <33, dirty jokes

genre: fluff

OSAMU MIYA

this man never passes up the opportunity to cook with you

he totally got you guys matching aprons for this moment

anyways, he’s basically a cooking GOD so cooking with him goes relatively smooth

relatively because you and osamu make your own secret recipes and have a makeshift recipe book

so you’re always trying new things and it’s basically either a hit or miss

hit being that it’s the best thing ever to come out of the oven/pan/pot

or it’s a complete mess and tastes like last weeks gradually rotting leftovers

“i think there’s an eggshell in this..”

“i knew we screwed up somewhere.”

“too much spice!”

sometimes when neither of you can sleep, you both start cooking a light meal in the middle of the night.

but then it just ends up getting burnt because you both decided to fall asleep when it was in the oven

he has a ‘KISS THE COOK :*’ apron and wears it religiously

he’s always shirtless when wearing it, and has grey sweats on to match (ugh yes samu ur such a meal‼️)

there’s also an unspoken rule that you have to kiss him when he’s wearing the apron, so he wears it all the time to steal a smooch from ya <3

“well would ya look at that, i’m wearin the apron, y’know what that means?”

“it means that you’re taking advantage of that apron, ‘samu.”

“guilty~”

atsumu is always your test subject for trying you and osamu’s creations, but sometimes you both purposely screw up just to get a reaction out of the blonde twin

ATSUMU MIYA

ok. atsumu CAN cook...he just...doesn’t.

cut him some slack, he’s a pro volleyball player that probably eats out a bunch most of the time

but once the two of you moved in together he definitely made an effort to cook homemade meals more

he’s definitely not osamu, but he can totally make basic ones

however, the one time that the two of you had decided to try something out of your comfort zone...

atsumu started a fire and the fire department had to come

“do ya smell something...”

“jesus christ atsumu you’re burning the eggs!”

“i thought ya were watching it!”

“you put too much oil, dumbass!”

so pretty much, now the idea of cooking together is pretty much just YOU cooking the food and atsumu handing you the ingredients and chopping up vegetables

when you guys decide to make a meal at like 2 am, it’s good vibes only‼️❌⭕️💢

literally you’re sitting on the counter top and atsumu is trapped between both your legs and you’re playing with his hair while he’s scrolling through his phone as you wait for the water to boil

sometimes you end up sharing a few kisses, which leads to the water spilling out of the pot and unto atsumu’s leg

“yer so pretty at night- OW, FUCK!”

“oh my god atsumu get away i need to check the water-“

while you’re cooking he sneaks up behind you, wraps his arms around your waist and drapes his head on your shoulders

always expect some mellow or soft music (the go to is Easily by Bruno Major) while cooking at night!

while the songs play, sometimes you and atsumu dance together around the kitchen

in the end, the food usually sucks, and atsumu won’t waste a second telling you that.

“i’m not going to lie, this sucks.”

KIYOOMI SAKUSA

this man...

he IS mr. perfect pretty much.

cooking??? he’s got it on lock he can do it all

i personally see sakusa as someone who just doesn’t like to give up easily, so he would definitely try to recreate as many dishes until it turned out properly

honestly, his idea of cooking with you at first was him cooking, and you sitting a fair distance away from the kitchen

and this is just because he’s used to throwing it down in the kitchen by himself

but overtime hes warmed up to you and you both cook together, of course while being marginally clean

sakusa absolutely loves making foreign foods because they challenge him

whenever he flies internationally for leisure or volleyball, he always comes back with at least one cookbook

whenever the two of you have time, you try to finish the recipes in the cookbooks

sakusa always finds it adorable when you struggle to keep up with him (since you aren’t the best at making foreign dishes) and he always finds a way to tease you about it

“you can’t even follow simple instructions,y/n? that’s pretty embarrassing.”

“shut yer trap! i’m trying my hardest!”

sakusa would just laugh and proceed to continuing cooking, leaving you a flustered and embarrassed mess <3

sakusa ain’t too big on pda in the kitchen, because you’re cooking and it can wait

the most he’ll do is wrap his hands around your waist as you both wait for the food

cooking with you can also sometimes be sakusa worst nightmare

you tend to get messy sometimes, you’re never seen without a stain on the side of your face

“you’re so messy, clean up the counter.”

while you’re a giggling fit, sakusa is veryyyy unamused

and he certain isn’t laughing when you purposely get him messy with a stain or two

while he just stares at you in shock, you take this as your cue to bolt and start running for your life cuz baby, he’s comin ‼️🗣

so basically, half of your cooking sessions end up with you getting chased by a flour-clad sakusa kiyoomi around the kitchen

but in the end, you’re always met with amazing food

SUNA RINTARO

suna.

he CAN cook.

but it doesn’t mean he’s good at it.

if it was possible, he would definitely burn water

although he’s usually attentive, he can get super absent minded when it comes to cooking, cause it’s borin and his phone is more important ‼️

like atsumu, suna’s idea of cooking together is once again, YOU cooking, and him stealing bits of food from the pots and pans

“this one tastes really good. we’re so talented babe.”

“we? you were sitting on your ass and i was cooking...but yeah, we’re talented.”

you learned your lesson to NEVER ask suna to cook for you...

when you had asked him to make you breakfast, he had made himself at home in the kitchen, acting as if he was about to bring out a 5-star meal

“you’re going to love this one, babe.”

he really presented a slightly BURNT piece of toast with butter on it, and a glass of water with a shittily cut slice of lemon to go with

“viola, babe, dig in”

“how on earth did you even burn the damn toast.”

he also offered bring you breakfast in bed, and you were met with a half cooked plate of scrambled eggs with half the eggshells in it

“suna...did you even let it cook?”

long story short...baby do better‼️

he’s literally so annoying you ask him what he feels like eating and says ‘you’ as if he’s doing the most 🙄

now you’re just completely convinced that suna cannot cook for the life of him, which is kinda true

but you’d be surprised at how he suddenly turned into a cooking god when it came to baking edibles

sometimes he goes all out, making you wear a coat, goggles and shit

“edibles are delicate and must be handled property.”

“so you’ve become a scientist, suna?”

he gets really into it when making edibles

it’s you and him time, so no electronics in the kitchen! just you, him, and some urban music playing as you wait for the edible cookies, brownies and rice krispies to finish baking

both of you are on the floor in front of the oven, backs against the counter while you just talk to each other

sometimes, if you’re both feeling affectionate enough, you’ll sit in between his legs and rest across his chest

and when the edibles are done, you get absolutely zooted (responsibly of course)

gen taglist: @bokukiyoom

also thank you to viru baby for helping me with these headcanons ily babe!!

*send an ask to be added to general taglist

[hatterstan-shameblog]

Prompt My Own Damn Self # :He’s Not the Guy You Marry, But He Is The Guy You [REDACTED] in the Night Club Bathroom at Two O’Clock in the Morning, Which is Also Important

Summary: Literally what it says in the title, except we find out what [REDACTED] means, which is very fun and exciting. That’s right, everybody, we’re 👏 going 👏 there 👏

Warnings: ‼️18+‼️ Extremely Explicit Sexual Content. Do NOT be uncool and read it if you’re not of age. Otherwise, there’s alcohol involved here (wow what a surprise 🙄), like one mention of drugs, and smoking. Aside from that, it’s pretty straightforward.

Genre: Mediocre Smut

Pairing: Hatter/Fem!Reader

Notes: There are two types of people in this world: people who are very attracted to the weird sexy hat guy who started a death-game pyramid scheme, and LIARS.

Real talk, though: this is pretty explicit. More explicit than I’ve gone in a very long time, so I’m a little rusty. It veers into “hate sex” territory, which was kind of fun to write, honestly. I live for the banter. (Also, the “you” character in this is kind of great? I like her.)

HEY! Just another reminder! This is 18+ so if you’re not of legal age, do yourself a solid and ditch this little thing, okay? Okay.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

It starts with tequila shots.

Salt licked. From your wrist. His chest. The hollow of your throat.

Lime bitten. Held between your fingers. Between his teeth. Between your pushed-together breasts.

Music pulses. Lights flash. He’s got a hand on your ass. You’ve got your lips on his neck.

“Wanna go somewhere?”

“Yes.”

And he leads you, hand on the small of your back, away from the bar. People stare. You like it.

‘Somewhere’ is, apparently, a two-stall women’s restroom, tucked away in a narrow little hallway which runs to the left of the bar. A place for shooting up drugs. A place for scribbling on the walls with permanent marker.

A place for sex. Hot, sweaty, anonymous sex.

...Well, semi-anonymous, anyways. It’s impossible to live at the Beach and not know who the man in red is, the man who sells a shot at salvation for nothing more than a few playing cards.

You lean against the tastefully cream-colored counter which hosts, among other things: a sink stained pink with cheap soap; three forgotten tubes of lipstick; a small mirror, holding an abandoned credit card and two small lines of cocaine; a crumpled up hand towel; a half-finished bottle of Asahi beer; and what was probably once a wedding ring.

“Great ambiance,” you murmur flatly. The harsh light of fluoresent bulbs burn your eyes, diverting your gaze to the white floor, “Been ages since I got fucked in a classy place like this.”

“Ages?” Hatter flicks the lock on the door with a low thunk.

“Hours,” you answer, mournful tone betrayed by a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth, “Had you not come along, my dry spell might’ve gone on through the morning.”

“Perish the thought.”

And he does not so much approach you as he descends upon you, mouth sucking at your collarbone and leg pushing between your thighs.

“Tell me,” he pants into you ear, breath hot and fingers deft as he unties the strings of your bikini top, “How do you want me?”

“Now,” you hiss back, “Don’t care how, just—fuck, just give it to me.”

“Then, if you would be so kind?” He holds a condom between his index and middle fingers.

In truth, you’re glad for it—you’d rather not deal with the mess after all is said and done—but there’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of a ‘thank you.’

“Fine,” you huff, snatching the foil square from his grasp, “Don’t suppose you have anything better to—oh!”

Hands on your hips spin you around so you’re facing the mirror. You grip the edge of the counter, knuckles straining, and watch as he reaches around to palm your breast.

“Apologies,” he makes eye contact with you in the mirror, “but I seem to have my hands full at the moment.”

And that’s when you feel fingertips slipping beneath the seam of your bikini bottoms, an insistent press against the slick of your slit.

You spit a curse and fumble with the condom, desperation setting in as his hands continued to dance across your flesh. After some moments (too many for your liking), you’re successful in your endeavor, and pass the unwrapped nuisance over your shoulder.

“Much obliged,” he thanks, removing his hands to sort himself out, “You know, I appreciate—“

“I didn’t come here to talk,” you snap. He laughs in response.

“Ooh, you’re mean!”

And he’s sliding the crotch of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, exposing only what is necessary and lining himself up—and, okay, that’s the kind of semi-impractical hotness you were looking for from this particular encounter. Your muscles clench involuntarily around nothing and you cant your hips back to get him to move it along...but nothing happens.

God, what is this guy’s problem?!

“But, I wonder,” he whispers into your ear, “are you desperate enough to say ‘please?”

Of all the guys to pull for a quick fuck, of course you get the one who’s a total tease. So smug, arrogance blooming as he presses a soft kiss to your left shoulder. There’s no way you’re giving in to this asshole, so you glare at him in the reflection of the mirror.

“Fuck you,” you spit, teeth bared and mouth formed into a malicious smile.

He shrugs his shoulders.

“Close enough.”

You both cry out when he fills you with a single, fluid thrust. And—fuck, fuck, fuck!—that is good. One of his hands curls around the jut of your hip, while the other splays across your collarbone, thumb and forefinger framing the base of your throat in a firm but gentle touch.

Otherwise, he remains still—perhaps he’s being gentlemanly and allowing you time to adjust? No, no, he’s definitely being a tease again.

Seriously, what is his goddamn deal?

Since he seems content to take his merry time, you take matters into your own hands, moving against him in a somewhat-awkward but still satisfying rhythm.

“You,” he says between heavy breaths, “seem eager.”

There’s something in his voice that seems amused, as if he finds your candor endearing. You lean forward a bit, angling your hips so his length is able to sink deeper and, oh, that’s much better.

“Want something done right,” you pant, “gotta do it yourself.”

“You don’t think I’d do it right?”

“Sweetie,” you coo with a condescending smile, “I know you wouldn’t.”

And you’re lucky that guys like him are all the same—arrogant, showy, desperate to prove their sexual prowess—because he finally (finally!) decides to get his sorry ass into gear and make something happen.

The hand that was around your neck gropes at your breasts, the cool metal of that stupid-ugly-tacky ring catching on your skin in an annoyingly tantalizing way. The other shoves its way between you and the edge of the countertop, deft fingertips circling your clitoris in a way that makes your toes curl in your sandals. You bite your lip to keep from crying out as he fucks into you, hips snapping hard but steady against the plush of your ass.

“You know, the people I fuck usually try to be nice to me,” he says, “nicer than you, anyways.”

The hand on your breast pinches your nipple, earning him a sharp gasp.

“Why be nice?” You clench around him, causing his rhythm to falter, “You’re just the means to an end.”

“And here I thought we were making love.”

Teeth scrape down the length of your neck, and fuck—you’re getting close. Your arms are shaking. Your heart is racing. You hate to admit it, but he’s good at this.

“Darling,” he growls into your ear, “I do believe you’re about to come.”

“Shut up,” you snap, trying desperately to sound cool and unaffected despite the fact that your composure is about to shatter and there is not a goddamn thing you can do about it.

“Well, go on then. After all,” he hisses, “I don’t have all night.”

What starts as anger is quickly overtaken by pleasure—white-hot and blinding, enough to make your knees shake and your eyes spring with tears. It’s exactly what you were looking for, exactly what you had been expecting from the most notorious sex fiend at this God-forsaken place.

Apparently, he must’ve come too, because he’s pulling out with a surprising tenderness—gentlemanly in one way, at least. He even makes sure to right your bikini bottoms, making sure that they’re once again covering you completely before turning his attention to himself.

“You know, I didn’t know people could glare their way through an orgasm, but you made it happen.”

“I’m a woman of many talents.”

Before you choose to look in the mirror, you fix the rest of your bathing suit with a tremble in your fingers. You can feel him watching you, and honestly, you’re not sure how you feel about that. Good, mostly, but tinged a bit orange with annoyance. You try not to think about that too much and, with a deep breath, look at your reflection.

The first thing you do to assess the damage of your little liaison is check your makeup—your eyeliner is a bit smudged, but that’s easily fixed with a few swipes of your littlest finger. Your hair, however, is another story, so you set to fixing it with a dissatisfied huff.

You hear the snick of a lighter behind you and the scent of fresh-burning nicotine hits your senses. You turn around to see him leaning against the tile wall with a cigarette between his lips and smoke curling in wisps towards the ceiling.

He raises an eyebrow when you approach him, then chuckles when you snatch the cigarette right out of his mouth and take a long, deep drag. It’s almost as good as the sex.

“You know,” he says, “I think you might be a bit in love with me after my spectacular performance.”

That makes you choke, your lungs switching from laughter to coughing and back again.

“Spectacular?” You quell your sputtering with a gulp, “You were passable. At best.”

“Careful, sweetheart. You’re getting awfully close to giving me a compliment.”

You take a step closer to him, shoulders squared, fingers ashing the cigarette onto the floor.

“Not your sweetheart,” you say, taking one last drag and blowing the smoke directly into his face. You smile when he flinches.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” you say, pressing the mostly-smoked cigarette between his lips, “I have somewhere to be.”

You turn on your heel and begin to walk away, making sure to sway your hips just so as you do. There’s no way his eyes aren’t glued to your ass, and the thought makes you smile triumphantly.

“Until next time, then,” he calls—and it’s cute that he sounds so sure that you’ll come crawling back to him.

You exit the bathroom with a self-satisfied smirk, enjoying the thought of him lighting another cigarette and trying not to chase after you.

Three days, tops. That’s how long it’ll take for him to beg.

You can’t wait.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

also just in case you were wondering, he DID leave the sunglasses on—BUT they were on his head kinda holding his hair back because I truly believe he would do that. also the kimono has pockets and he thinks it’s very cool to carry around all his stuff in there (for example he keeps a granola bar on his person at all times because sometimes you just get hungry yknow?)

[blushingbaka]

mistletoe matchup !

FANDOM : bnha and haikyuu pls 👉👈

GENDER PREFERENCE : female. she / her 😳

SONG : all i want for christmas is you, mariah carey ‼️

ACTIVITY : singing christmas carols 🎶

MBTI : intp - t 👄

tysm for considering my request please have a great day and take your time, no pressure !!! ❤️

hihi !! thank you for sending this in ! i hope you like it <3

for haikyuu

Underneath the mistletoe, you’ll find...

❅ ❆ ❉ ❊ TANAKA SAEKO  ❅ ❆ ❉ ❊

you and your girlfriend saeko are walking through the park on your way home from a date when the sound of singing catches your attention

it’s a group of carolers singing “we wish you a merry christmas” and a fond smile appears on your face as you listen to them

“can we watch for a bit?” you turn to saeko who’s already smiling affectionately at you

“babe, we can do more than just watch” she winks, squeezing your hand as she drags you over to the group

thankfully the carolers are more of an informal group and saeko easily makes you and herself a part of it

she hugs you tightly to her side as you sing the classics you know by heart and she belts out the lyrics

everyone is laughing and having a good time singing together. saeko is so overwhelmed with cheer, she presses a giddy kiss to your lips in between each song

you’re not sure where it came from, but at some point while you’re singing “holly jolly christmas” a caroler holds some mistletoe over your and saeko’s heads

they grin brightly at you two as you all sing “Oh, ho the mistletoe/ Hung where you can see/ Somebody waits for you/ Kiss her once for me” 

saeko gladly cups your face, pulling you into a deep kiss, and you can’t help but laugh against her lips

it’s late and freezing when you two decide to part from the carolers but there’s a warmth that settled in your stomach that remains the whole way home

and who’s hoping to steal a kiss from you next year ??

*̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥❅·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·❅‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

Terushima Yuuji Tendou Satori

*̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥❅·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·❅‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

for bnha

Underneath the mistletoe, you’ll find...

❅ ❆ ❉ ❊ BAKUGOU KATSUKI  ❅ ❆ ❉ ❊

this is the first christmas with your boyfriend bakugou, so you’re elated when you find yourself under some mistletoe with him for the first time

it happens at a christmas party with your old UA classmates, so of course everyone is watching, eager to see his soft side

but he disappoints them and you when he simply rolls his eyes, taking your hand as he finds you two a place to sit down

you suppose you shouldn’t really be surprised since bakugou isn’t much for pda, but you have to admit you were looking forward to having that kind of memory with him

you don’t voice any of this, but bakugou still sees the longing in your eyes as you watch your classmates kiss their dates under the mistletoe

it’s a couple of days later and you’ve practically forgot about it all, so you’re surprised when bakugou directs your attention to the mistletoe he’s hung in your hallway

when you ask him why, he says, “it’s what ya wanted isn’t it?”

“you don’t have you force yourself” you lightly chuckle, feeling embarrassed that your disappointment that night was so evident 

he tells you that he genuinely wants to do it, but you reply saying he should have done it that night. “you say you don’t care what they think of you anyway” you tack on. 

“I don’t care” he quickly retorts. you simply raise an eyebrow causing him to huff and pull his phone out of his pocket. you watch curiously as he clicks on his camera app and sets a short timer

“I’ll show you if you don’t believe me” he grumbles as he places his phone on your bookcase in the hallway on a shelf that’s almost eye-level

before your brain can put the pieces together, he cups your cheek, pulling you in for a fervent kiss

your heart flips seeing his small smile when he pulls away, but it turns into a smirk as he retrieves his phone that captured a picture of your moment under the mistletoe

“as if I'm embarrassed...” he tsks. “I'll send this to all of them” he boldly declares pulling up the groupchat you all use to keep in touch

you laugh saying that wasn’t what you wanted, but he insists anyway

it wasn’t the way you imagined your mistletoe kiss with bakugou going, but when you see he’s made the picture his lock screen, you realize it was still a memory you’d cherish

and who’s hoping to steal a kiss from you next year ??

*̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥❅·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·❅‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

Itsuka Kendou Usagiyama Rumi

*̣̥☆·͙̥‧‧̩̥❅·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·‧̩̥˟͙☃˟͙‧̩̥·‧•̥̩̥͙‧·❅‧̩̥‧·͙̥̣☆*̣̥

❄️ MISTLETOE MATCHUPS ❄️

[madamslayyy]

Prisoner of Love (Erik “N’Jadaka” Killmonger x Black! Reader)

Pairing: Erik Killmonger x Black! Reader

A/N: IM 👏🏾 HORRIBLE 👏🏾WITH 👏🏾DEADLINES 👏🏾BUT 👏🏾I 👏🏾MADE 👏🏾IT 👏🏾✊🏿‼️ So this is my submission for @hoopshoney and @purple-apricots Valentines Day Fic Fest, With Love, From Wakanda . This is actually shorter than I intended but I ran out of time so one day a part two might pop up (but it won’t be anytime soon, I’m so sorry y’all). Anyways this is it, I didn’t know who to tag so I just tagged random ppl I thought might be interested.

Warning: Kidnapping??? Imprisonment. Loss of Will. Nothing triggering honestly but conceptually I could see this being a problem.

Prompt: 27. “Nothing was planned but it certainly worked out for me.”

~*~

“You could smile, y’know. I walked all the way down here to see your pretty ass and this the reception I get?” His dimples flaired more than usual when he was angry. And he was always angry.

He’d gotten into a sort of routine. He’d come see you every three days and if you behaved he’d give you a present. You never behaved the way he wanted, never disrespectful/ disruptive but not the lovestruck admirer he craved either. You might not have much entertainment in this glass cage he’d condemned you to but you had come to find a smidgen of pleasure in watching him burn the trinkets in front of you after he didn’t get what he wanted. There was something about seeing his effort go to waste that made you feel victorious, even if only for a millisecond.

“Some way to treat ya king. Gonna make sure we break you-out of that real soon.” He sank into the throne like chair he’d had installed in the room (on the other side of the glass) and so began the ritual. He’d sit in the other side of the glass for hours, telling you about his day, his Kingly duties, how he was going to ‘fix’ Wakanda and then the world. He would talk to you about any and everything and of course you’d sit there and listen silently, like a good prisoner does.

On days when he’d run out of things to say, he’d simply gaze at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. You hated every second of it.

The first day you’d been in-prisoned by N’Jadaka was the second day he’d been King. You worked for the crown as a bookkeeper, a boring paperwork filled job swarming with numbers, algorithms, expenses, and budgets. The newly instated King has stormed the Wakandan Department of Finance to let everyone know they were fired and could go home, he wasn’t about to let anyone ‘budget’ his revolution.

You’d been on your way out he door when he violently grabbed your arm, nearly breaking it. You turned your big doe-like eyes to him, fear instantly taking residence within you. It was public knowledge that this man had savagely murdered the former King T’Challa and Spiritual Leader Zuri in cold blood. If he could put an end to them so frivolously, then it would be nothing for him to kill a nobody such as yourself.

“What’s your name,” He asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Your face must have gave way to your confusion because his grip on your arm loosened, but only marginally.

“Your name, ma. I won’t ask again,” he commanded. Even with you blood running cold in your veins, you could recognize he was easily the most handsome man you’d ever come encounter with.

“Y-Y/N.... your highness,” you squeaked. You felt like you were about to pass out.

“The voice matches the face... and the body.” he murmured to himself. He continued staring at you for what felt like an eternity before he finally nodded to his second-in-comamnd. You knew immediately who he was. W’Kabi, leader of the border tribe, traitor to Wakanda and the crown.

“Take her into custody,” he barked and immediately you found yourself being dragged away by two of W’Kabi’s men. That was the last day of your freedom.

“Look at me y/n,” he said in a stern voice, breaking you from your train of thought.

“I am,” you said softly. Even if your mind was a million miles away, you always kept your eyes on him. It would take less than a second for him to press the button on his Kimoyo beads to make the glass between the two of you vanish. Though you were already completely at his mercy, it often felt as if the glass barrier that kept you locked in your cell was the only form of protection you had from him.

“No you’re not. Your eyes are on me but you’re not seeing me.” You knew he couldn’t bare when all of your attention wasn’t completely focused on him. In the abundance of free time being King N’Jadaka’s prisoner had granted you, you’d often taken to psychoanalyzing your captor. You wondered if he often felt as if no one saw him, perhaps he was often ignored in childhood, spurring such an insecurity in his later life.

The silence between you two lingered on, him gazing at you as if he were studying you. You were the same each and every day but he always watched you as if he were discovering something new.

Finally he stood from his chair, approaching the glass. He took off one of his kimoyo beads and entered it in the key pad to your right. The glass between you two vanished and your body instantly went rigid. He handed you a small box which you accepted with shaking fingers. He backed out of the cell before reigniting the glass.

“Open it,” he urged, his eyes more intense than ever. You opened the small velvet box to reveal a ring made of pure gold with a diamond bigger than any rock you’d ever seen nestled in the middle.

“Do you know what tomorrow is?” He asked softly, arms folded across his enormous chest.

“February 14th,” in the months since you’d been his prisoner, you actively kept up with the date. It helped keep you sane.

“Little something called Valentines Day where I’m from. A celebration of love,” you’d never heard of such a holiday so you remained silent.

“It only seemed fitting on such a day that I make you my wife.” Your eyes suddenly flew open in shock causing the King to grin wickedly.

“N-no. Your highness please I d-“

“Take a long look around Y/N. Tonight is your last night in this cell.” His voice boomed as he began to walk away.

“Was this all apart of your plan? Take over Wakanda, kidnap and marry the first girl you see?” You asked quietly. You almost thought he hadn’t heard you when he paused.

“None of this was planned but it certainly worked out for me.” And with that, he was gone.

You looked down at the ring. It was gorgeous. But you knew what it really stood for. It was more or less shackles that would bind you to him for all of eternity. You had to bring yourself to question was this a fate worst than death?

~*~

The next morning came and you were greeted by two Dora Milaje who came to retrieve you from your cell.

It felt like only hours since the king had left you with the velvet box in your hand. Maybe it had only been hours, there was no telling how long N’Jadaka was with you yesterday. The cell he kept you in was deep underground with no windows or clocks for you to tell time. Your eating schedule where a designated maid brought you breakfast, lunch, and dinner was your only way of keeping track of the days.

“It’s time,” one said in an unbelievably deep voice. She was beautiful of course but so were most of the Milaje.

You put up no fuss, allowing them to escort you out, the same way you allowed them to scrub your hair and skin until your brown skin glowed a slight red tinge, the same way you allowed them to dressed you in the most extravagant white American styled wedding dress you’d ever seen. One last look in the mirror before the wedding was supposed to begin and you hardly recognized yourself. The hair, the makeup, the jewelry; you looked beautiful but it wasn’t you. Or maybe it was. Maybe it was who you were about to become. After all, you were about to be a Queen.

The ceremony was surprisingly short, shorter than normal Wakandan royal weddings, thanks to N’Jadaka of course.

Except for the first day he’d seen you when he’d grabbed your arm, you hadn’t touched N’Jadaka since. So when he held your freshly manicured hands in his own enormous ones, you felt the heat rise in your cheeks. He held them gently, rubbing small circles in the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Through the power of Bast, I declare you bonded for life, King and Queen of Wakanda.” The new Spiritual Leader, Ghube, rang out. N’Jadaka allowed a small smile to grace his lips before he captured your lips in his own. They were softer than you expected, the hairs of his beard tickling your face. He grabbed you by the waist, deepening the kiss. The witnesses cheered loudly and you felt your cheeks heat up even more.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” he said breathily as he pressed his forehead against your own. He was so close to you. And so large. His body easily engulfed your own and you were suddenly filled with a feeling of dread. With his new role as your husband, he would expect you to perform certain wifely duties. Duties you weren’t sure you could handle. Your experience was limited to say the least and you’d never been with anyone who could hold a candle to the King’s flame. His incredible beauty aside, he was confident, strong, psychotic, always got what he wanted apparently and didn’t take no for an answer. How on earth did they expect you to bed a man like that? Or worst, give him an heir.

You were stoic the remainder of the ceremony, the impeding dread of your wedding night consuming you.

“Aye, you good?” N’Jadaka asked quietly in your ear. It was nothing for him to lean over because you two had been impossibly close since the moment the two of you were wed. He hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you, only further perpetuating your unease.

“I’m not feeling well. It’s just a lot going on, I’m a little dizzy,” you said, trying to excuse your behavior.

“Aight,” N’Jadaka squeezed the side of your thigh his hand had previously been resting on as a form of comfort you supposed before standing up.

“Alright, weddings over! If you not staff or cleanup crew, get ya asses out!” N’Jadaka yelled abruptly, causing the room to still. Nobody seemed to really know what to do so they all stared at him awkwardly.

“Did I fucking stutter?!” That kicked them into high gear and everyone made a quick B-line for the door.

“C’mon, lets get you to the royal doctors,” N’Jadaka said going to help you up.

“No, really I’m fine. That won’t be necessa- AH” he picked you up bridal style as if you weighed nothing. You clung to his neck for dear life. Nobody had ever picked you up before and here he’d done it with such ease.

“I’m gonna have them take a look just in case.”

“I’m serious, my king. I’m fine, I just need to rest.” You said and he tensed.

“What did you just call me?” His eyes looked almost feral and you thought he might throw you down to the ground on purpose.

“M-my King? I’m sorry I di-” You squeaked when he cut you off by crashing your lips to his. He moaned into the kiss, a deep guttural sound that made your heart flutter for a moment. To think he’d get so worked up over someone like you?

“I could get used to that,” he chuckled, breaking the kiss. You bit your already slightly sore lips, N’Jadaka’s affections leaving them swollen. You couldn’t believe he was that enamored with the title, as if everyone didn’t call him that. As if you hadn’t called T’Challa that a hundred times during his short reign.

As he carried you off to what would be your shared bedroom, you couldn’t help thinking how peculiar this man was. You’d watched him through the glass of your cell for months as he’d come and pour himself out to you and yet you’d never seen this side of him until today. He was an enigma, for sure.

He opened the door and carried you inside what easily had to be the most extravagant room you’d ever seen in your life. Dripping with gold and vibranium, this single room was bigger than any place you’d ever lived in your entire life. The bed was unnecessarily huge with feather pillows larger than your whole body and sheets made of pure silk. Had this been where he slept every night? It seemed like an awfully big bed to sleep in alone. If he was alone, that is. No wonder he was in such a hurry to find a wife.

“Home sweet home,” he said, laying you down on the bed. He took your shoes off one by one and began to massage your delicate feet in his large hands. If a year ago, someone had told you you’d be here in the most beautiful room you’d ever seen, on the softest bed you’d ever felt, receiving a foot massage from the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes of, all while wearing the title of Queen, well you’d have thought it was a delusional dream come true. And yet here you were.

“I know what you think about me... what they say...” N’Jadaka said bleakly, “but I’m letting you know now, that shit doesn’t matter. I’m gonna be a good husband to you. If you let me.”

Was he serious? He wanted to be a good husband? When he’d locked you in a glass cage like some doll for months?

“Okay,” you said, not really sure what response he was looking for. Apparently that did it for him because his hands started trailing up you leg under dress, stopping at your thigh.

“You’re still afraid of me,” he sighed, removing his hand.

“I-I um..”

“I can hear your heart palpitating, and you’re trembling Y/N.” He interjected. “I took the heart shaped herb, I’m the new Black Panther remember.” Shit, how could you have forgotten something as important as that.

“It’s... it’s not you I’m afraid of.... I’m just not any... good at that,” N’Jadaka nodded, licking his lips.

“I can help with that,” he cooed, unbuttoning his shirt.

Taglist: @queennanayaa @chaneajoyyy @erikkillmongerstan @macfizzle @chasingsunlight @softnani @thehomierobbstark @supersizemeplz @wakandas-vibranium @wawakanda-btch @loosewindmill @muse-of-mbaku @chefjessypooh @iamrheaspeaks @theunsweetenedtruth @cancerianprincess @laketaj24 @sugardaddytonystark @itsmarshalltime98 @blackpanthersmut @blackgirloneshots @lavitabella87 @wakanda-inspired @blackpinup22 @ayellepea

[zenruption]

The Daily Disaster-5/18

AN UNDER-APPRECIATED PROBLEM WITH THE TRUMP PRESIDENCY IS HOW HE AND HIS STAFF CONTINUOUSLY NORMALIZE DISASTER. BECAUSE WE WITNESS NEW SCANDALS, GAFFES, COVERUPS, HYPOCRISY, MISDIRECTION, INCOMPETENCE, ATROCITY, CRONYISM, IGNORANCE, RACISM, XENOPHOBIA, TREASON, EMBARRASSMENT, LIES, DYSFUNCTION, POWER GRABS, WAR ESCALATIONS, ENVIRONMENTAL ASSAULTS, MISOGYNY AND MORE ON A DAILY BASIS, THE MAGNITUDE OF EACH IS DIMINISHED IN OUR CONSCIOUSNESS BY THE SIMPLE VIRTUE THAT WE HAVE BECOME SATURATED. BECAUSE OF THIS, WE AT ZENRUPTION WILL BE PUBLISHING A DAILY CURATION OF THE EVENTS THAT HAVE BEEN REPORTED, FROM VARIOUS SOURCES, INCLUDING LEAKS WITHIN THE WHITE HOUSE, SO THAT WE CAN FULLY EXPERIENCE THE LEVEL OF DISASTER OUR EXECUTIVE BRANCH HAS BECOME AND THE IMPLICATIONS IT HAS ON ALL OF US. TODAY, MAY 18, 2017

Check back often

and contribute!

By Jerry Mooney

From The Horse's Mouth (Trump tweets, then leaker tweets, then published reports)

Trump deleted these tweets today, but I screenshotted them :)

With all of the illegal acts that took place in the Clinton campaign & Obama Administration, there was never a special counsel appointed!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) May 18, 2017

This is the single greatest witch hunt of a politician in American history!

— Donald J. Trump (@realDonaldTrump) May 18, 2017

Why Is Donald Trump Standing By Mike Flynn? https://t.co/8zEFwX3gKX via @buzzfeed

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

1/ Some Republicans are boo-hooing about the special prosecutor. You know what would have prevented it? I'll tell you.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

2/ Not trying to turn the House Intel hearings into a "but muh leaks" clown show. Not having the WH conspire with Nunes.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

3/ Not slow-rolling the House and Senate investigations and hoping it will all go away. Not tweeting and giving incriminating interviews.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

4/ Not trying to suborn the FBI director. Not having RUS officals in the Oval Office. Not posing for RUS propaganda photos.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

5/ Not hiring a package of people in business with RUS oligarchs. Not screeching praise for the GRU asset Wikileaks.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

6/ Not engaging in every flavor of whataboutism. Not lying constantly from the press room podium.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

7/ You bought this bad pony. You ride it.

— Rick Wilson (@TheRickWilson) May 18, 2017

Slam Dunk. Grand Slam. Chose whatever metaphor works for you. https://t.co/zrCfNv3NnY

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) May 18, 2017

Do you think Trump has figured out that degrading our IC while praising Putin/Russia/WikiLeaks wasn't in his own best interests?

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) May 18, 2017

@TrueFactsStated @LouiseMensch New Time Magazine cover. No words necessary. pic.twitter.com/MmstkB1xpV

— Peter J. Clark (@pondbridge) May 18, 2017

@TrueFactsStated @wrennywrenn Or a future legal fund. He has a history of embezzling campaign funds. https://t.co/Y6KivaaITm

— Susan. B Bitchin (@s_bitchin) May 18, 2017

I dunno, maybe should have considered that before nominating him. https://t.co/cSUWxkmfGU

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) May 18, 2017

While folks around Trump have slowly been teaching him how to play checkers, Comey is 27 moves ahead in 3 dimensional chess.

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) May 18, 2017

No stopping impeachment train now. As stock market drops, powers that be may short it for profit, but they know Trump too big a liability. https://t.co/n2XYToJJvK

— Mattison (@Mattison) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump "Why don't they love me, aren't I deserving?" Pressure builds to the beat of the clock. Tick tock, tick tock.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump A lifetime spent in self adulation now rots from within as you polish the tin and deny speculation. Thinly veiled lies losing their power.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump You already said that, don't you remember? All moving so fast you're head's spinning now. Your marvelous empire is crumbling around you.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump You already said that, don't you remember? All moving so fast you're head's spinning now. Your marvelous empire is crumbling around you.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump Of course, Mr. President. You are. For now. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump You've weak and powerless. You try to regain power by raging at others, but that only makes you weaker. But you can't stop, you're so angry.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump Your highest ranking aides are giving up. You'd fire them for their lack of loyalty but nobody is willing to take their place. You're alone.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump Even your appointed family are getting tired. They want an escape, they want you to resign to salvage the value of their inheritance.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump But already know it's a lie. You're repeating it here as emotional masturbation. Desperation is setting in & you can't handle the pressure.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump You are the President of the United States. If you have a tangible reason to believe there was illegal activity, direct DOJ to investigate.

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

@realDonaldTrump And whose fault is that? You promised a Special Counsel to investigate Clinton. But later said that it was all just campaign fluff. #youlied

— Rogue POTUS Staff (@RoguePOTUSStaff) May 18, 2017

Pres wanted to bring Flynn (!!!!) on the Middle East trip, said he'd be a "good resource to have." Idea quickly put to rest.

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) May 18, 2017

During Fox & Friends, Pres LOCKS himself in room & wont let anyone in bc they'll take his phone - always manages to tweet then.

— Rogue WH Snr Advisor (@RogueSNRadvisor) May 18, 2017

After the election, when @KellyannePolls kept writing "Trump is your President", you see, she got that one FLAT WRONG. #Pence #Flynn pic.twitter.com/KhJN1xXfXE

— Louise Mensch (@LouiseMensch) May 18, 2017

BREAKING: @RepCummings presses Chaffetz to finally use his #SubpoenaPen for #WhiteHouse docs on #Flynn. https://t.co/CpOVQJx10C

— House OversightDems (@OversightDems) May 18, 2017

‼️TREASON‼️#Flynn blocked Obama plan to crush ISIS in Raqqa b/c #Turkey (secretly paid Flynn >$500k) opposed it.https://t.co/SZoaUPIz4w

— Dr. Dena Grayson (@DrDenaGrayson) May 18, 2017

#Flynn: "I just got a message from the president to stay strong" Me: In other words: "don't talk & I'll pardon you"https://t.co/krrSJfom2Y

— Ricky Davila (@TheRickyDavila) May 18, 2017

All Trumpflakes right now #RenewAmerica #trumprussia #flynn #WitchHunt pic.twitter.com/8MHrlRNiwi

— McDonalds Trump (@AltTrumpconvos) May 18, 2017

Double popcorn day for the endless bombdropping #impeach #trumprussia show. #muller #investigation #Flynngate #obstructionofjustice pic.twitter.com/Lsxj0WlXgb

— Maddy (@SpeakUpNoworNev) May 18, 2017

@matthewamiller News just breaking that Flynn won't honor subpoena. "Stay strong" must be code for "I'll pardon you." #traitorTrump #Flynngate

— Rebecca Rauber (@rebeccarauber) May 18, 2017

No, sure this doesn't mean Flynn is guilty AT All. 🙄#Flynnghazi #Flynngate https://t.co/puxUi51ER7

— Curiosity (@SFTravels) May 18, 2017

.@Isikoff "Stay strong..." ("... or end up dead like anti-#Putin #Russians")#FlynnGate #TrumpRussia #MarchForTruth #TheResistance https://t.co/xOLmbwHHXz

— ((TrumpResistance)) (@TrumpResist) May 18, 2017

@DrGMLaTulippe @Gav4955 @m4verick12 @DavidGoodrich4r @IreneVista1970 @JonesAnthonee @RobertMordica @TheresePicard @HillaryClinton The fact that Fmr POTUS Obama advised Trump not 2 hire Flynn, made Trump want Flynn that much more-regardless! #TrumpRussia #Flynngate .@NPR pic.twitter.com/KZoly0GWTj

— JGreen, M.P.A. (@jgreenSTPA) May 9, 2017

Shot: “As investigators circled Flynn, he got a message from Trump: Stay strong” https://t.co/ajSLDQVqJk Chaser: https://t.co/U2pfYIDQ70

— Bradd Jaffy (@BraddJaffy) May 18, 2017

House oversight panel chairman Chaffetz to depart Congress June 30: Politico https://t.co/WPpfSGmCtb pic.twitter.com/qEdGPkg0xX

— Reuters Top News (@Reuters) May 18, 2017

.@SpeakerRyan on the House Russia probe: “We are going to keep these investigations going here, as I’ve always said” https://t.co/L1gOsbnAAK pic.twitter.com/I7QsRpTUZh

— POLITICO (@politico) May 18, 2017

To sum up: Donald Trump now thinks the Deputy AG he hired two weeks ago is leading a "Witch Hunt" against him.

— Palmer Report (@PalmerReport) May 18, 2017

At least 20 IMPEACHMENT MARCHES planned for July 2nd, per organizers. Will increase pressure on Hill Ds >>https://t.co/3gtK3FXjOV

— Jonathan Martin (@jmartNYT) May 18, 2017

Interesting—Evan McMullin wrote an op-ed in Feb. abt same meeting where McCarthy joked Trump was being paid by Putin https://t.co/oWrE1szKmw pic.twitter.com/ngYcKx34lj

— Kyle Griffin (@kylegriffin1) May 18, 2017

GOP leaders can’t say they didn’t see the Russian interference coming. They knew. — Op-Ed by Evan McMullin, February https://t.co/c4WCqOOyaQ

— NYT Opinion (@nytopinion) May 18, 2017

McCain on Trump's claim that he's the worst treated politician ever: "I've been treated worse" https://t.co/BjbCPMuBbm pic.twitter.com/Kewgc2S2fL

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

Read this piece _> "I prosecuted drug offenders in the ’80s. It was a disaster. Why is Sessions taking us back?" https://t.co/eo6iPFTDhb

— Ezra Klein (@ezraklein) May 18, 2017

Deputy Attorney General Rod Rosenstein will brief the full Senate in a closed session https://t.co/qbyW1pkBpC

— Washington Post (@washingtonpost) May 18, 2017

House Intelligence committee requests Comey memos https://t.co/Fsdz72F6fO pic.twitter.com/LRZvjSjdKB

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

Trump doesn’t realize that he’s really Tyler Durden https://t.co/nhtz2i7GhO

— Jonathan Capehart (@CapehartJ) May 18, 2017

“...it's going to really limit what Congress can do”@LindseyGrahamSC: James Comey testimony in jeopardy https://t.co/ZxSrvD4pYJ pic.twitter.com/ad9iBcwLSY

— POLITICO (@politico) May 18, 2017

Analysis: Special counsel Robert Mueller is bad news for Trump’s embattled White House https://t.co/YKK0ksFZc7

— Washington Post (@washingtonpost) May 18, 2017

.@VP Pence stands by claim he didn’t know about Flynn lobbying investigation https://t.co/C7p11WWVTV pic.twitter.com/g3sP3CyQax

— POLITICO (@politico) May 18, 2017

The self-pitying president. @GrahamDavidA on Trump's response to the latest news:https://t.co/eo46S1mE2w pic.twitter.com/TltiEULd8M

— The Atlantic (@TheAtlantic) May 18, 2017

What conservative pundits are writing about Trump's 'Watergate' moment https://t.co/xc19HBsyo1

— The Guardian (@guardian) May 18, 2017

US spies heard Russian intelligence brag about targeting Clinton: report https://t.co/xrzyPjjGsh pic.twitter.com/OSvyWbBytg

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

Slam Dunk. Grand Slam. Chose whatever metaphor works for you. https://t.co/zrCfNv3NnY

— Claude Taylor (@TrueFactsStated) May 18, 2017

Third candidate for Trump FBI director withdraws from consideration: https://t.co/TOsKflw2KF pic.twitter.com/WC1CcbP0Pg

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

Robert Mueller: "I'm in" Jason Chaffetz: "I'm out" Michael Flynn: "I'm in contempt" Donald Trump: "I'm screwed"

— Palmer Report (@PalmerReport) May 18, 2017

Mnuchin just now: "We never said we were in favor of Glass-Steagall." Official GOP platform 2016: pic.twitter.com/l2NX8PoZKF

— Pete Schroeder (@peteschroeder) May 18, 2017

Trump campaign had at least 18 undisclosed contacts with Russians: report https://t.co/AmHDfpFMgj pic.twitter.com/7iAVnGs5SL

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

Rod Rosenstein’s week-long journey from Trump’s man of absolute integrity to the target of rage tweets https://t.co/Mjv1PUGhSM pic.twitter.com/oKGHKHS0hD

— Judd Legum (@JuddLegum) May 18, 2017

Advisers urged President Trump to hire an outside lawyer to deal with issues related to the Russia investigation https://t.co/3dHP5QgfuX

— The New York Times (@nytimes) May 18, 2017

Science committee Dems to Trump: Stop relying on fake news https://t.co/Ep3aeIpkgJ pic.twitter.com/4HDDS57IGx

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

After Turkish security brutally assaulted protesters in DC, Trump maintains a deafening silence https://t.co/KlJ7HHcqPD pic.twitter.com/35Dbne3MiY

— Judd Legum (@JuddLegum) May 18, 2017

"Why Trump will likely resign as Mueller pursues 'Putingate'" https://t.co/KFGQGTqdLA pic.twitter.com/nWPbBPtuiG

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

President Trump’s first trip abroad: How’s that going to go? https://t.co/323PLCvYnL pic.twitter.com/7Eqi0d0Zzk

— Slate (@Slate) May 18, 2017

.@SenatorBurr: “Michael Flynn has not cooperated with the committee up to this point” https://t.co/KmdrtfKaJ1 via @abwrig pic.twitter.com/u2aCizVuDF

— POLITICO (@politico) May 18, 2017

Kushner urged Trump to attack after special prosecutor announcement: report https://t.co/Etfc22PFUw pic.twitter.com/vvcvW4Bz2L

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

With Donald Trump’s downfall underway, the U.S. intel community may be targeting Paul Ryan too https://t.co/eStWYr5GwI

— Palmer Report (@PalmerReport) May 18, 2017

Former Joint Chiefs chairman: "The harder you chase leaks, the more leaks there will be" https://t.co/eAO7pHYc8u pic.twitter.com/fU9caXO0lR

— The Hill (@thehill) May 18, 2017

President Trump: “This is the single greatest witch hunt of a politician in American history!” https://t.co/5EazikFe1B

— The New York Times (@nytimes) May 18, 2017

medianet_width = "728"; medianet_height = "90"; medianet_crid = "728762653"; medianet_versionId = "111299"; (function() { var isSSL = 'https:' == document.location.protocol; var mnSrc = (isSSL ? 'https:' : 'http:') + '//contextual.media.net/nmedianet.js?cid=8CUTI81HQ' + (isSSL ? '&https=1' : ''); document.write('<scr' + 'ipt type="text/javascript" id="mNSC" src="' + mnSrc + '">' + 'ipt>'); })();