#i have never seen anyone wear tight clothes like this man wears tight clothes

[m-ayo-o]

first time 𐙚 taken by toji fushiguro...

18+ nsfw, dad Toji (he's kinda sweet and soft ngl), friend Megumi, college students, age gap, virgin reader, pulling out, spitting, oral

Needless to say, it doesn't go well.

You were Megumi's cute, doll faced friend, always daring to enter the lion's den wearing such skimpy outfits.

Short skirts after college. Toji was sure you drove all the boys mad. He bets you have them drooling. But he's no better, fisting his oversized cock to the thought of you bending over to pick up your school bag.

He's a fucking pervert and he knows it.

But you've nearly graduated college... you've got to be twenty one by now.

You must be. Because Toji has a call come through from Megumi's phone one night with your sweet voice sounding on the other side from some bar.

"Megumi, um, had too much to drink, can.. can you please pick us up?"

So he drove to this stupid club and Megumi tumbled into the back seat.

But he wasn't really paying attention to his lightweight son fumbling to get his seatbelt on, because he was watching you step around the front of his car in the tightest black dress he has ever seen.

When you climbed in the front with him he watched you try to pull the dress down and he scoffed. You were a little intoxicated... he could tell because you were less fidgety and awkward than usual and you touched his arm and told him 'thank you, Toji', pressing a little kiss to his cheek way too close to the scar on the corner of his mouth.

He could've grabbed hold of you right then and pulled you onto his lap on the driver's side.

He manages to take you both back to his safely, where you insist on taking a shower before you sleep despite it being two in the morning. But when you step out in a tiny towel you realise you don't have any clean clothes, so you knock on Toji's bedroom door... where he greets you in nothing but his boxers.

You can see the outline of it. Instantly. And you're still tipsy so your eyes hover there for a bit too long before you manage to stumble out that you need a t-shirt. He throws you a white cotton t-shirt and it fits like a nightie, then you bother him again by asking if you can have a pillow because you're going to sleep on the sofa.

"Why not in his room?"

"It's not like that.. we're not.. you know-"

"You're not fucking my son?"

You shake your head rapidly.

"I haven't.. done that.. with anyone."

You mumble then thank him for the pillow and dart to the sofa before you embarrass yourself anymore.

Toji lays on his bed and contemplates that there is currently a hot, probably very horny, and shy college girl laying on his sofa wearing nothing but his t-shirt.

He imagines what he could do to you.

The image of you on his dick keeps him hard all night.

And in the morning he gets up early as usual and finds you still sleeping. The blanket has fallen away and his t-shirt has ridden up and..

"Fuck.."

Your pussy is on show.

He didn't touch himself all night and his morning wood only gets harder when he lays eyes on that pretty little pussy. You're laying half on your back, half on your side, with your legs parted slightly. He can see the outline of your tits and his thin, white shirt does nothing to hide your nipples.

He kneels down in front of you and kisses your legs until you rouse and find the man below you with his hands on your thighs.

"Toji -!!"

You squeak but he hushes you.

"Don't be scared."

He kisses up between your legs and pulls you up on the sofa to sit in front of him, perfectly spread, and he licks you there. Your friend's dad holds your thighs open and gives you pleasure like you've never had before. You hold onto his black hair gently and watch him devour you. His mouth opens wide and he's swallowing so much and getting his tongue over your clit then.. pushing into your tight pussy. He groans and lets out a little laugh into you- he has to really force his tongue in. And he watches your head hit the back of the sofa and he knows then that you weren't lying.

"You really are a virgin, aren't ya?"

You nod and he sticks his tongue back inside you. Repeatedly.

Then his fingers. They're longer and thicker than anything you've had in there.

And with you starting to nervously jitter about Megumi getting up, his father carries you to his bedroom and lays you on his bed.

He slides his boxers down and pins you to the mattress.

You're about to scream but he covers your mouth and sinks his cock into you.

He can't stand the way you fucking grip him... and he looks down and sees your blood on his cock and he's not even all the way in.

But damp tears start to well from your eyes and he hears you blubber into his hand.

"s'enough please, please Toji stop there, i-it hurts.. can't- can't take it-"

But the animal in him keeps trying, forcing his way back but it's your first time and his dick is just too fat and long for your pretty cunt and he eases out with a pained look on his face.

"Sorry- sorry-"

He slides in again, maybe halfway down his shaft.

"Can you take this much?"

His breathing is heavy. He's desperate.

You nod, mouthing a soft "yeah" and he rocks his hips into you.

It's half of him. But it's enough. Enough to get him off. He's been hard all fucking night from the thought of you alone he'd be happy with cumming in his damn pants while he ate you out. The man doesn't care as long as he gets his relief, preferably with his tongue inside you. So he starts kissing you real slow and nasty, telling you to open your mouth and he spits inside and licks and sucks at your tongue.

He grunts and nearly forces his dick back another inch but he grits his teeth and pulls out to jerk himself off over your stomach and tits. You've never seen so much cum before. He empties his balls over your body and finally sighs with relief.

Next time you're over he waits until Megumi is asleep and sneaks out to the living room to watch you in your slumber. He cursed that you remembered your pyjamas this time. But there must be a god because your shorts are so skimpy and have pulled up between your ass cheeks and your vest displays your tits for him so nicely.

But he can't wait until morning this time, so he tickles you awake with his lips and you give him a look of confusion that quickly turns into excitement.

You didn't know this was going to happen again.

"Up you get."

He pulls you up and takes you to the kitchen, where he bends you over the island and drags your shorts down. He preps you with his fingers then gets his cock out.

"You can take all of me this time."

He tells you and buries himself inside you.

He works you open, easing you over his cock. The size of him looks ridiculous. No wonder he can barely fit, with a body like yours... and one like his. Thick and meaty inches slide into you one by one and he groans when you finally allow his pelvis to touch your ass.

"Got you, got you- fucking- good girl. Oh, that's a lot of cock for you, hm? Doing so well pretty thing just let me, ooohh.. oh fuck, let me move now --"

He mutters such dirty and expletive words your pussy leaks all over him and sucks him back in.

He can barely fucking move from how tight you are and it starts to make his head spin. But you're splayed over the island and gripping onto the cool marble, clenching your jaw closed so you don't wake up your friend. Little whimpers and hiccups escape your throat and Toji starts to pound you with his thick thighs slapping your ass.

It's a lewd sound that gets him hornier and he grabs as your cheeks and spreads them, spitting on your hole and smearing it with his thumb.

"Cute ass."

He mutters and keeps fucking you, praising you the whole while for taking all his dick and having such a perfect pussy. So wet and tight, letting him use it like this and fuck you all the way to your orgasm. You're about to milk his load but he pulls out quickly and erupts over your ass. It sprays up your back and you swear you feel a spot on your neck. The rest dribbles from his swollen, flushed tip and trickles over your cheeks. He helps you to the bathroom before it spills into your pussy and insists you sleep in his room so he can do it again in the morning.

But you're not sure if you can take it so he eats you out and fingers you then gives you a little lesson on how to suck cock.

toji

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #female reader #18+ content #toji imagine #fushiguro toji #sweet toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #toji x you

[dahliaslove]

⭑ HC’S OF SLASHERS WITH A BIMBO S/O

⭑ authors note: this was very fun to make so feel free to request any similar head canons also lmk if i should make a part two with more slashers :)

⭑ warnings: small mention of kidnapping, some of them immediately make your appearance sexual (sorry but they’re very mentally unstable), stalking, mention of panty stealing, corruption kink, aged up stu as if he got away with the killings and went on to college, small mention of fucking in a bathroom, basically they’re all perverts to some extent (sorry)

⭑ characters: thomas hewitt, michael myers, bo sinclair, lester sinclair, vincent sinclair, stu macher

no detailed smut, but minors don’t interact please!

THOMAS HEWITT

- living in the conservative and rural south, i doubt he’s seen many people decked out in as much pink as you while also simultaneously wearing as little clothing as possible

- luda mae will definitely judge you by the way you dress but once she gets to see how well you treat her tommy she’s letting it slide and excusing it by saying that it’s necessary to dress like that in the heat or something

- once you’re an established person in the hewitt residence i feel like they wouldn’t really have to hide their cannabalism from you too hard due to you being you know . . . oblivious

- hoyt would 100% make some sort of remark to you that has thomas fuming, like he knows you’re such a kind and gentle person and hoyt should not be trying to get with you like that, even if you don’t necessarily notice that he’s being sleazy toward you

- i know thomas would low key struggle to contain himself around you and is definitely ashamed about it because he should not be feeling this way when you’re not even doing anything necessarily sexual

- like he feels pathetic palming himself in secret while thinking about you in your short skirts and tight tops but after you find out about this he’ll absolutely let you help him out with it

- imagine trying to calm the creaking from his bed so his family doesn’t hear as you ride him silly with your skirt rolled up your thighs and his big hands holding onto your waist . . .

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

MICHAEL MYERS

- the amount of pink you’re wearing is what first catches michaels attention. he definitely stalks you at first and just watches you waltz around in your bright pink attire, oblivious to michael watching you, very obviously too.

- to be honest i think this would frustrate him at first, like why aren’t you noticing that there a dangerous man following you around?!

- oh my god and if you’re someone who constantly forgets to lock their doors? michael is literally taking that as an invitation to break into your place. he doesn’t even bother to hide whenever you come walking down stairs in your short and cutesy matching pajama top and bottoms, he just waits for you to notice.

- mans is absolutely baffled whenever you turn to him and instead of freaking out, you just smile and ask him if he’s hungry. i would like to say that he would take this invitation and take a container of whatever food you have and then just awkwardly leave and question his whole entire existence.

- he comes back though, because even murderers have to eat, right? he just keeps coming back to your house frequently until he’s practically living with you.

- i feel like one day you would probably see him on the news while looking for something to watch and be like oh my god my new roommate is a killer? well . . . he hasn’t hurt me so it’s whatever i guess . . . wait! that’s why he never pays rent?

- once you guys cross the line from roommates to a couple, he will honestly be a little concerned for your well-being, like how does someone as oblivious as you even make it through the day?

- don’t worry though, michael will absolutely stalk you to check in on you and will murder anyone who does anything to you :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

BO SINCLAIR

- to be honest, this mf is gonna sexualize you immediately. He’s turning his charm levels all the way to 11 and trying to win you over in his own manipulative and slightly hot way though.

- he definitely gets annoyed by you being clumsy, but he uses that as an opportunity to 100% be a pervert by letting his hands wander or just straight up staring down at your tits or ass.

- trust me, as soon as this man is in your vicinity he is rock hard because he literally has the dirtiest mind ever and has absolutely no chill. ( this makes the sex 1000% better though )

- he for sure has nude polaroids of you in his wallet, like imagine gifting them to him sealed with a bright lipstick stain on the back and a cutely drawn heart. he also jacks off to these in the back of his shop because he has no shame when it comes to you as i said earlier.

- he probably wouldn’t worry much about you leaving due to you being oblivious to the situation you’re in but he would definitely be more protective of you because of this when you get to know each other more.

- like if any tourist tries to do or say anything to you that he doesn’t like? he’s gonna try and keep his act together with clenched teeth and a strained smile before killing them off himself instead of sending them to vincent or something.

- definitely makes fun of you for being a naive klutz though. like he will manipulate you to the max to get you to comply for him, he’ll say things like “just please do it for me, okay sugar?” and have you wrapped right around his finger.

- the same kinda goes the other way, just to an extent. after a while of you laying some sweet loving on him he’ll definitely be asking lester to pick you up some pretty lipsticks and anything that he thinks you’ll find cute.

- over all, you’re bo’s walking wet dream and he literally can not get over you especially after you guys get in a relationship and to you he’s just your silly little mechanic boyfriend who lives in a weirdly empty town.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

LESTER SINCLAIR

- lives for the aesthetic and finds you so pretty but is a total pervert and he, like bo, uses your naivety to his advantage

- he gives panty stealer vibes to me, like i know he probably acts all innocent and puppy eyed around you but as soon as you look away for one second he’s going into your room and stealing your panties you know? (he still does it while you’re in a relationship too, because this man can not be stopped)

- say you work at a cute little diner he likes to frequent (because of you) he will go there every other day and butter you up only to leave the parking lot of the diner and jerk off into his hand on the side of some abandoned road . . .

- he will find a way to be with you whether it be literally stealing you away or finding you on the side of the road after your cars broken down and convincing you to stay with him. and with the second option being more likely (he will mess with your car and plan out the whole thing) you won’t even realize he’s got you tied in with him forever

- you’ll just think lester is the sweet southern man from the diner who’s turned into your boyfriend who takes care of you and let you move into his place really quickly

- He absolutely has a corruption kink, like he loves the idea of being with someone so perfect and just absolutely ruining them. he also definitely has you christen his truck for “good luck” by fucking you in there until you’re a sticky sobbing mess.

- but on the softer side of things, i know lester is so greatful for you and can’t believe that someone as sweet and pretty as you could love him. especially as someone who wasn’t loved properly as a child :(

- and he’s so protective over you too because he knows how mean the world can be and he doesn’t want anyone else to hurt you. so he’s definitely extra careful when he has you in the car and is picking up tourists. it’s low key funny because he’s over here worried they’re gonna say something mean to you and not that you’re gonna find out what he’s luring them into. if they do something though, he makes sure to tell his brothers to make their death slow and painful :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

VINCENT SINCLAIR

- he absolutely adores you, like he loves having a silly lil naive pink loving partner.

- anytime you’re having one of your airhead moments he will calmly explain to you in more detail until you understand what he’s talking about :(

- he loves drawing you, he does it so much it’s to the point where his pink colored pencils are getting shorter and are always dull from use. he hangs the drawings up all over his walls and stuff too, which literally has you leaving kisses all over him and drowning him in compliments (he gets very flustered)

- tries to keep you away from the fact he turns people into wax statues, but is glad that you don’t even seem to notice! imagine you complimenting him on how life like they look and he’s like :-|

- probably very protective over you, especially if you come into contact with bo . . . who has no shame in flirting with you but you’re just like no thanks i have a perfectly awesome and cool boyfriend :) (bo’s ego was very hurt that day)

- this immediately has him rolling all over the house and happily dancing because he loves you so much and you’re all his

- just because he feels like this doesn’t also mean he’s not a perv like the rest of them though (you thought you were safe muahaha) he probably has so many nude drawings of you, mans absolutely gets every detail in them too

- he hides them from you at first but if you find them . . . oh my lord he’s gonna be so embarrassed . . . and hard. seeing him depict you so beautifully, probably splayed out on pink sheets too, immediately has you on your knees for him.

- i don’t care i would suck this man dry to show my appreciation, like until he has tears in his eyes and he’s just uncontrollably bucking his hips into your mouth

- basically he loves you in pink and is your #1 supporter!!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

STU MACHER

- absolutely whipped for you and you have him following you around with heart eyes all over campus

- doesn’t tell you about his side hobby of killing people, because he honestly doesn’t feel the need too since you believe him anytime he says the red staining his shoes is paint.

- absolutely gives you the princess treatment since he has all that money from his rich parents, so he buys you new clothes, gives you mail money, money to get your hair done, ect, ect.

- but he also does it with his actions you know? like he absolutely opens the door for you with a dramatic bow and says something like “after you, m’lady”

- he’s the type of guy that will go out of his way to look up your skirt to fluster you though

- he’s still a pervert but he’s more jokey about it, for example, he makes all sorts of dirty jokes and giggles like a maniac when you don’t understand them. when you do though, you’ve got him down on his knees for you, if you respond back by flirting, just know he’s taking you off to some bathroom and absolutely fucking you dumb and when you’re done he’s flipping your skirt back down and leaving the bathroom with a spring in his step.

- basically you’re just his sweet lil bimbo partner who he spoils endlessly in kisses n’ nice stuff who thankfully never notices the blood staining random items in his apartment :)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

#thomas hewitt x reader #michael myers x reader #bo sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #stu macher x reader #slasher fucker #slashers x reader #dahliaslove horror #slasher smut #bimbo reader

[supercap2319]

It's my birthday. So I wanted to ask for one of those NSFW imagines that you do...

Steve Rogers surprising y/n on his birthday (the newest member of the team) by letting him eat his cake (his ass).

Y/N's birthday wish had come true about six weeks before his actual birthday was due. It was like something out of a movie where the main character lands their dream job, or in Y/N's case, his dream team.

Ever since the Avengers first appeared together to save the world, Y/N wanted to be a part of the team. He studied hard in school, played sports, and even the occasional computer classes, but what got him the job was the powers he developed. The power to control the very weather all at his fingertips. Nick Fury was impressed, and after a trial run, Y/N was officially the newest member of the Avengers.

Everyone was welcoming. Sure, Tony liked to pick on Y/N because he was the rookie of the team, Steve, aka Captain America, always had his back. Y/N couldn't help but fall for the Captain. He was so nice and kind. He showed Y/N the ropes on missions, and he never lost his patience with Y/N. Even when the situation called for it.

Y/N and Steve were an inseparable team after the first few weeks. Steve would teach Y/N everything he knew from battle techniques to planning and strategizing. In return, Y/N had shown Steve how to work a phone and the internet. What memes were and social media. That's probably how Steve found out it was Y/N's birthday.

The young Avenger didn't want to make a spectacle of his birthday, so he didn't bother telling anyone about it. Y/N figured he could spend a quiet Friday night alone with some Netflix. He was wrong.

Y/N enters his room to find Steve waiting for him on his bed with a small smirk on his face. He wore a blue bathroom and fuzzy red slippers. This was so different from the "old man clothes" as Tony liked to call them that Steve usually wore. His blue eyes were shining with a hidden mischief. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, Cap. What's up? How did you get into my room?"

"J.A.R.V.I.S. let me in. Hope that's fine with you?"

"Of course. Did you need something?" Y/N asked, eyebrows raised at Steve's attire.

Steve stood up and walked towards him. Y/N frowns and gulps as Steve gets closer until he can see the flecks of black in baby blue eyes. His lips are pink and plump. So full and shining with some sort of coat. Probably, lip bomb. "It occurred to me that today was your birthday today, and you didn't tell anyone. Why?" Steve looks at Y/N.

Y/N blushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"You should. We're a team now. We celebrate everyone's birthday together. But we can tell the others tomorrow. For now, I have a cake for you." Steve smiled, but he was also blushing very hard, which made him look even more adorable and innocent than he usually did.

"You baked me a cake? You didn't have to do that."

"It's a different kind of cake. And I need you to frost it for me. I can't reach back there."

Before Y/N could ask what that meant, Steve dropped his robe and revealed he was wearing a patriotic thong. Captain America turned around, and the floss of the fabric was so tight around Steve bare ass crack and made his white boy cheeks even bigger than they were and believe Y/N, he's seen Steve in his suit. He knew those glutes would be big.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Y/N blushed, but he couldn’t deny he's actually fantasized Steve doing this just for him. Showing him America's ass.

"I told you. I want you to frost my cake with your tongue. Maybe you'll give me your frosting?" Steve pulled the thong to the side of his cheeks and exposed his pinkish hole. It winked at him. "Please, Y/N?"

Y/N looks shocked. Was Steve really giving him his ass for his birthday? He must be dreaming, right? He pinched himself. He wasn't. This was real, and so was Steve. Steve wanted it. The pinnacle of American dreams was right in front of him, shaking his tight ass.

The young Avenger walked towards Steve and bent him forward against the bed as Y/N spread those golden boy ass cheeks and began to lick Captain America's ass like a dying man.

#x male reader #male reader insert #male x male #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x male reader #chris evans #captain america #Captain America x male reader #birthday wishes

[pedgito]

i have a request 🫣 prince paul having an affair with his chamber maid, and he’s extra mean and arrogant because she’s the help. maybe it starts out with him requesting (demanding) she wear skimpier clothes in his presence and it just escalates from there 👀

author’s note: honestly never forgiving you for this. <3

cw: 18+ (minors dni) period typical drama (you don’t need to have seen the show to understand), chambermaid!reader, lots of degrading (not in a nice way), adultery/infidelity, mentions of reader being infertile, lots of tension, bratty!paul (he’s such an ass), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, power imbalance, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 5.5k

He’s not quite the man you expect at first glance. Paul, that is. His mother was an atrocious being, soft for show and nothing but hard edges, laced with ill-intent at every turn, opportunity—every chance she had, she was betraying the semblance of trust she had built.

And maybe that was her plan after all, the reason why she rules the way she did—but people talked and you heard every bit of it.

No one cared for chambermaids, especially not the one addressed to a tantrum prone young prince who despite his misfortunes still had the attitude and personality of a spoilt-child, all condescending tone and disregard for basic human decency.

But, it’s your normal—and it’s easy to fall into that routine, his voice is like white noise as you work, if he had the nerve to notice you. He’s often caught up in his own thoughts, scowl on his face as he brushes past you with no acknowledgment, not that you expect it. He’s cold at first, brisker—more than he has been lately, but your place was recognized.

Paul didn’t have the time to talk to the likes of you.

Yet, that’s exactly why he did—though, it wasn’t without your own valiant effort.

The first time it happens you almost jump out of your skin, pressing fresh sheets on his bedside chair to redress his bed, his pouting figure perched at the end, head bowed.

“Can you believe her?” He asks, voice soft but tense. You turn back, thinking he’s talking to someone—anyone but you.

There’s no one.

So, you say, “She’s quite evil, isn’t she?”

It’s a solid enough response to get a reaction out of him, even if it’s barely noticeable. His shoulders shake with the chuckle he holds back.

“She’d have your head if she was to hear that,” Paul points out, tipping his head back over his shoulder, eyes still downturned toward his floor, “careful what you say.”

“Sir, I need to change your bedding,” You urged, hands gripping the silk duvet, destined to rip that blanket away whether he moved or not, “please?” You ask softly and he’s standing silently, rounding the bed to reach for the gold plated goblet at his bedside, sipping what you could only assume was a fruitful, fancy wine from their large collection.

He watches silently, intently as you rip the old sheets away and replace them with new ones, body stretching over the bed as you fold in the corners, breasts pushed tight against the fabric and hips peeking out through the stiffly tailored dress, the itchy material driving you crazy every day.

His lips are perched on the rim, dark eyes glaring from a distance as you glance up at him briefly, met with his heated stare. You blush slightly—no man has ever looked at you in such a way.

You clear your throat quietly, flipping the blanket over the sheets and smoothing it out until it’s pristine—and you almost make it out without consequences or crude commentary.

“Lose the dress next time,” Paul orders, “it’s unbecoming of you.”

“Pardon?” You ask shakily, dirty fabric balled up and held tight against your chest, “Sir—er, Prince Paul, your majesty…I don’t think that is appropriate.”

“You’re my chambermaid,” His expression changes quickly, speaking through clenched teeth, “you do as you’re told.”

You nod obediently, though slow.

“Only here,” He clarifies, “Close the door from now on, only come at night—do you understand?”

You nod.

“Good,” His face changed on a dime, softening slightly as he stepped toward you, ringed fingers clinging against the metal of his cup as he tilted it toward you, pressing it against your lips, “drink.”

You’ve never tasted alcohol, not allowed those luxuries. It’s bitter as it hits your tongue, the tartness of the wine causing you to grimace slightly, lips stained a deep red as your tongue peeks out when Paul pulls the goblet away.

“Obedient,” He notes with amusement, snorting softly through his nose, “that is…useful.”

He doesn’t elaborate, nodding for you to leave as his expression hardens again, eyebrows drawn together tight.

“Mutter off,” He grumbles, “and do as you’re told.”

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from him, the situation souring in a matter of seconds as you walked away quickly, disappearing down a dark hall to rid yourself of the dirty laundry, avoiding the judging gaze of the consort as they walked by, ducking your head in a effort to hide in plain sight.

Before that encounter, Paul hid himself away after the death of his first wife and child—and while his wife had been horribly unfaithful, you could never wish that on anymore. Paul constantly grumbled about having a child to serve the purpose that his mother wanted, he’d finally accomplished it and then it was being swept out from under him in such a brutal manner.

It didn’t soften the blow of infedelity any less, or that he’d lost his son, a potential heir to his throne.

And for a while you barely see him, either tucked up under his covers and refusing to let you inside, or gone on some task with his army of men—you couldn’t be bothered to care.

You were poor, lowly, at the bottom of the pecking order and never destined step foot outside of this place, that much was obvious. It’s taught you to be mindful and overly observant—you knew Paul’s wife was cheating on him from the beginning, small inclinations that things were arye, but it wasn’t fully confirmed until you walked into a vacant room to his unfaithful wife being fucked by his bestfriend. As horrible as Paul may be, you weren’t sure he deserved that.

The period between then and now is tense, but manageable. You’ve got plenty of duties to keep yourself busy outside of his room, helping set tables for one of the many extravagant parties the council had weekly, tidying up the main rooms and helping greet guests from time to time. You were always presentable, clean, hair pulled back in a loose bun and any strays tucked behind your ear. It added an extra softness to your face, bare of any makeup—Catherine always commented on how beautiful you were, too pretty to be in the position you were now. You could never tell if she was lying or not, her first nature is always to make connections first and destroy them later.

She wastes no time in finding Paul a new wife, much to his initial dismay. He becomes rebellious during the time before, not that he wasn’t already the cause of most issues, but you quickly become used to it.

You find yourself picking up two pairs of clothes rather than one, slipping into his bedroom in the early mornings while he’s still tucked under the duvet, a naked, nameless woman wrapped around him and much less covered.

His mother would have a stroke if she knew he was finding sexual comfort in the likes of paid sex rather than putting his efforts forth to find an acceptable replacement, someone who is fertile and willing to submit.

And you can always slip in and out without being noticed, returning at night to finish up the more tedious and difficult tasks, avoiding conversation and his eyes at all costs.

Until you walk into an unfortunate situation one night, Paul buried in the cunt of a woman who’s much too loud, his pale legs tensing with every rough thrust of his hips—and sex wasn’t foreign, but it was private. It was a private, sacred act that should be kept between the two parties, but for Paul, that’s not the case.

He hears the door creak open, your eyes wide as he glances back at you, a deep smirk on his face.

His clothes are clutched to your chest along with his necessities for his bath—you’d normally start it for him by now, but you’re frozen, eyes stuck on the sight before you.

“She’s watching,” Paul says to the woman quietly and she moans softly in response, “—do not let me stop you,” Paul says, voice labored slightly as he wraps his hands around her thighs, pulling her impossibly more flush, his body blushing a bright shade of red, similar to the fake blush you patted on most morning as you helped him dress—though this, it’s so much better, “I’m nearly done.”

Your mouth is slightly agape, tongue feeling dry as you try to regain your composure, shaking your head as you slip past—the noises grow louder, heavier, and you quickly shut the bathroom door out of fear you might be caught again, eyes drawing toward him without meaning to.

You draw the bath, scolding hot as he liked and dip your fingers in to test the temperature, shaking the water from your fingertips as the door creaks open.

He’s still naked, unashamed as he walks toward you. It wasn’t the first time you’ve seen Paul naked, but it feels different. He’s not as showy, and more often than not he’ll shove you away, order you to busy yourself as he washes up—he doesn’t say a word this time, lifting his legs to step into the tub, softening cock bouncing against his thigh. He’s large, girthy and uncut. You’ve never heard many of the women talk about him in such a manner, so it comes as a surprise the first time you see it. It’s nothing like the older men you’ve seen undressing from their loins during your rounds—he’s younger, leaner, and oozing with an unbelievable confidence.

You still barely spoke to him then, handing over the washcloth and soap silently as you walked about, filling up his glass with the alcohol he usually requested; an awful tasting red wine that was much more bitter than it was sweet.

It was quite poetic, actually. It represented Paul perfectly.

His eyes drag up your coveted figure as he reaches for the glasses, stopping on your face, cheeks hot from the stuffy temperature of the room.

“Stay,” He says fiercely, catching you by surprise, “you can help, be of use finally.”

When he turns to sip and sit the drink down you roll your eyes, fist clenching tightly.

“Do you mind?” He asks, holding up the soaked washcloth toward you.

“Your majesty…you want me to bathe you?” You ask slowly, carefully.

“Are you hard of hearing or something?” He asks coarsely, teeth biting through his words as he bared them to you.

It was hard to know what would set Paul off, even the littlest things a trigger.

“No, no.” You reply softly, not bothering to finish your sentence as you squeezed the washcloth over his back, his shoulders stretching slightly as he rolled them, lifting his arms up on the edge of the tub.

“Not quite used to that?” Paul asks curiously, tone softer now.

“Sir, I’m not sure what you’re referring to—“

“No use being coy.” He notes, looking back at your briefly.

You weren’t nearly as timid as he assumed you were, not in the slightest. But, you appreciated the life you had, that you were living, and you weren’t going to jeopardize that by letting your sharp mouth get the better of you.

“Not necessarily, no.” You tell him honestly, “I’ve caught Potemkin in some…strange situations, but I usually excuse myself quickly—“ Paul leans back slightly to give you access to his chest, the wetness of his hair dampening your dress, “sex is private, s’not meant to be intruded on.”

Paul hums a soft noise, eyes linger over your body as you stretch and rub at his chest with the soap, smoothing out the washcloth over his skin before your hand dips under the water, reaching the soft skin of his stomach.

“You’re much too shy,” Paul teases, “you cannot be that way here, not with who I am—with who my mother is.”

“I do my duties and stay in my room, your majesty. It is important, also, to be mindful of where you stick your nose.”

It earns a laugh from him, genuine and unrestrained. His wet fingers loop around your wrist as it resurfaces from the water, and he’s pushing your sleeve up slightly, wetting the fabric.

“I tend to enjoy it,” Paul admits, “what a better way to remind people of what’s rightfully mine, yes?”

You snort at that, glancing down at him. Every signal in your brain is telling you to shut up, but your mouth moves anyway.

“Mmm, I assume paying for it also translates over to it being your property, correct?” He scoffs lightly, not as angry as you were expecting, but his grip tightens.

“Correct,” He seethes, tilting his chin up daringly, dragging you closer abruptly while your hands shoot out to catch yourself, gasping sharply as his face is mere inches from your own now, “—need I remind you that you are also my property?”

“I’m well aware, your majesty.” You bite back, “That does not allow you access to my body if you wish to lose a limb—“

“A delicate thing like you—“

You shake your head slowly, the words dying on his tongue.

“If you would like to keep fucking women in your bed, or at all, I would be careful with your next few words, sir.”

Paul smirks slightly, pushing you away with ease.

“I never said anything about force, you know,” He hints at, “I’m not that evil, not in that sense, at least.”

“As you shouldn’t be,” You retort, “Are we done here?”

Paul stands as you reach for the weak excuse for towel, cock resting proud against his stomach as both of his hands cup himself, allowing himself some decency—though it’s blatantly obvious.

You’re not sure whether to be flattered or offended, handing the towel off silently and dragging your feet toward the door.

“You can leave, yes—“ He hesitates for a moment, and your eyebrows draw together in confusion.

“Is everything okay, your majesty?”

Paul smirks darkly, eyes drifting away from you.

“Just a thought—I shall keep it to myself,” Paul says cryptically, “—‘less I risk losing an appendage as promised.”

Your laugh curtly, a subtle smile creeping onto your own face.

“You’re very smart, sir.” You tease.

“If only my mother would think as such,” He responds bitterly, mood shifting quickly, “—leave me, busy yourself.”

It’s not as harsh, but you don’t linger any longer than needed.

It’s the first time you manage to have a semi-normal conversation with Paul—though, nothing was ever conventional with him.

He remarried a few months after the encounter in the bath, your small conversations coming to an abrupt stop, his demeanor flat and angry more often than not.

No more random ladies in his bed, no more late nights perched on his desk table letting him ramble on about how much he hated his mother—you didn’t exist anymore.

He’s being the good little boy his mother asked him to be and promises her another heir, hoping this one holds up. And his wife seems kind-hearted at first, but that quickly sours.

It’s how you were in the position you were now, in his chambers stripped down to nearly nothing, as he’d asked, and going on about your business as if nothing was different. You didn’t have the luxury to question Paul’s orders, being as obedient as you could—as you were always taught to be.

He’d been angry the night before, about his mother but…something else. It lingered, you didn’t ask, and now it was itching at your mind, bugging you to no end.

Paul catches you when you’re bent over to grab a piece of stray stationary that had fell to the floor, making a noise you can’t decipher before speaking.

“Good,” He chide, “you listen.”

You weren’t sure what Paul was capable of, truly—and you didn’t want to find out. Because being the spawn of his mother, those tendencies were there at the surface, if not already exposed.

You turn slowly, breasts pressed together in the thin bra, underwear clinging to your hips and you curtsy slightly.

“Your excellency.”

You were laying it on thick, wondering what his angle was.

Paul examines the room carefully, stumbling a bit as he walks.

Drunk. He was drunk.

Not so much that he couldn’t speak or think for himself, but he seemed looser, less perturbed. His face was flush from the effects of the alcohol as he slipped his glass up along a random shelf.

“Fresh linens—you’ve even got my outfits lined up for the ceremony tomorrow,” His eyebrows quirks up interest, “you have been very busy.”

“It is just my job, sir.” You explain softly, hands clasped in front of you tightly, the cold draft in the room making you shiver.

Paul approaches slowly, plucking the stray paper from the desk and examining it, “Seems someone has been rummaging through my belongings again.”

You freeze, eyes tracking his every movement with regret, knowing that you were likely to blame—it could be a hit this time, a few stinging words and a night without a meal, you braced for impact.

“Do you women really think of yourself as the smarter species?” Paul asks, curiously but his voice is laced with an edge, a motive. “That us men are that dim.”

“Uh—“ You start quietly, stammering for the right words.

“She’s fucking the cook, you know.” Paul drops on you, making everything click in one fleeting moment. “The help. Like you.”

You bow your head, your normal snarky response subdued for the moment.

“She’s been writing letters, just the same as the other filthy fuckin’ whore I used to be bethrothed to.” The smell of liquor was strong as it fell from his breath, but his eyes still connected with you, flicking with life.

He always looked sad, small in comparison to most of the royals despite his attitude and harsh manner of dealing with things and people and really anything that bothered him. He was just as vile as he was kind—most of it being an act.

You knew he wasn’t being sweet to you out of the goodness of his heart, he had reasons. He was calculated in the most deceiving ways.

“How—how do you know?” You ask softly.

Paul huffs a small laugh, dropping the paper back onto the desk and allowing his other to trail up your front, finger wrapping around the material that joined your breasts together—if he pulled hard enough it would snap, the weak fabric no match against his strength.

“Caught them.” He spits out viciously, plump lips pouting around the words as he tugs you toward him, you move easily.

You weren’t scared of Paul—that was never the case. But, you knew it wasn’t smart to go against his actions, the things that he wanted. Because really, you weren’t sure how badly you wanted them either, until his fingertips were touching your skin, his eyes roaming your nearly naked frame.

“But sir, she’s—“

“With my child.” He answers for you, pausing for a moment to catch the stutter in your breath, his hand smoothing down over your stomach, your skin ice cold underneath his scolding touch. “No more sir, or your majesty—or whatever bullshit they teach you to say to me.”

You nod jerkily, head dipping down to watch his fingers trailer further and further, breath quickening with every movement.

“Considering my first son was not even my son, I shouldn’t be surprised,” Paul says lowly, his hand cupping your cunt light, the delicate touch of his fingertips tracing along the seam of your underwear, “it seems no woman can understand the concept of faithfulness.”

And you had to give him that—as much of a tyrant he could, he’d never tried to be unfaithful in his relationships. He had his indulges during those long, lonely in between periods, but never during.

Yet, here he was. A married man, touching you in ways that felt…too good. He was no different than his wife, but maybe that’s what he wanted.

“I must admit you are much prettier than the previous help, solnishko.” His free hand reaches up to tilt your chin up confidently, eyes connecting with him surrounded by an intensity you haven’t felt before. “I would much like to keep you around.”

“Unless I disobey,” You counter softly, “you would not hesitate to order my beheading, yes?”

Paul shrugs carelessly, “You wouldn’t be the first, I can assure you it would not be the last.”

His thumb rubs over your chin, rising to your lip, saliva wetting his finger as it stilled there, giving him a glimpse of your clenched teeth, not realizing your fist had been curled so tight at your sides until he’s speaking again.

“Relax,” He comforts, though it’s nothing but a mockery, “I would not hurt you, not unless I’m given reason.”

Your eyes squint slightly, narrowing on his bluff.

“Say it,” He orders, “say what is on your mind.”

“You are a scared boy,” You challenge, his demeanor faltering for a half-second before he recovers, “all talk and nothing else.”

The gentle hand on your face quickly turns to stone, slipping around your throat in warning, squeezing lightly. Your eyes close, trying to ignore how unbothered you are.

It wasn’t the first time your life has been threatened, it was all old news.

His fingers move quickly, slipping under your panties to touch bare skin. Paul snickers evilly at the wetness pooling between your folds, the soft noise your throat makes when his finger drags through—warm and thick.

“You seem to be enjoying yourself,” Paul says smugly, “how long?”

“I’m afraid I might need you to elaborate, sir.”

The squeeze is light, but tense. A warning to your words.

“Paul,” You correct yourself quickly, “I apologize—old habits.”

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks slowly, tongue and teeth enunciating every word like he’s spitting venom at you.

You couldn’t give him a period of time, because there wasn’t one. The attraction was a surprise to yourself, from the moment he touched you after stepping into the room, you knew. You could handle the not so subtle glances he took, the teasing words and throw them right back—but you both had never crossed this line. Sure, Paul could be coarse and suggestive more often than not, but part of him never expected you to follow through on his commands, even if it meant your life.

He’s intrigued by you, enthralled. He hates himself for it more than he cares to admit. But, all good things did come in moderation.

“Must you ruin the mystery of it all?” You retort playfully, eyes lighting up as he tilts his head, trying to decipher the growing smirk on your face. “May I ask you a question, your—er, Paul?”

“So long as you choose your words wisely.”

“Why ask me here in such a state?” You ask, “If the others knew—if they found out, you would surely face consequences yourself.”

“I won’t,” He forces out through clenched teeth, jaw flexing underneath the skin, “this stays here, understood?”

“What exactly is this?”

He can see the way you’re relaxing under his hold, more comfortable speaking to him in such a tone. He’s used to being talked down upon, constantly disregarded—never challenged.

“Madam, whatever I want it to be.” He smiles, sickeningly sweet, proving his point by dipping a finger into your entrance.

You gasp softly, back hitting the edge of the bed as he maneuvers you the short distance there.

“But, your wife—“ You interrupted in a hushed tone, his mouth hanging open slightly as he glared up at you, “how does this make anything better?”

“Not better, even.”

You nod obediently, moaning softly at the loss of contact as he stands, wiping his hand along the front of his trousers.

“Undress yourself.” He orders, seating himself on the edge of the bed as you turn, switching positions with him.

Your eyes glance toward the door briefly, the light from the moon shining in through the stained glass, the candlelight dim—if anyone walked by, they would assume Paul was sleeping, but behind closed doors…it made your heart skip a beat in anticipation, excitement even.

It was reckless, but you didn’t care.

Paul unbuttons his trousers swiftly, already down to a few layers rather than his several, regal waistcoat and all—it was just his loose white shirt and a faded pair of tan pants that cuffed at his ankles.

He’s not shy in the slightest, cock already half-hard as he palms himself, squeezing lightly at his balls before fisting himself tightly, raising a foot up on the bed frame to steady him, free hand coming to rest beside him.

Your bra goes first, loose straps falling down your shoulders with no resistance, pulling at the string holding the material together tied behind your back. The cold air has the soft buds of your nipples hardening instantly, skin prickled with goosebumps. Paul makes an appreciative noise, thumb rubbing at the thick head of his cock, the uncut skin allowing for an easy slide as he works up a harsh rhythm, cheeks flushed an even deeper red than earlier—there’s more than just alcohol affecting his system.

He doesn’t speak a word, only nodding his head to urge you further, slipping your underwear down and beyond your ankles quickly.

“You are—“ His voice catches, grunt slipping past his lips, “divine.”

You smile slightly, a surge of pride rushing through your body at the sight of him, clearly unhinged by you.

“Would you like your cock sucked?” You ask bluntly, adding the endearment for extra measure. “Sir.”

Paul grins widely, reaching forward to tug you by your wrist, “Get over here.” He urges, settling to your knees impatiently, never one for niceties.

But, you didn’t need that. You didn’t expect it from him.

“How do you like it?” You ask curiously, nudging his hand away to replace it with your own, eyes watching the small, glistening bed of precum that leaked from the tip.

“I’m sure you’ve sucked a cock or two before.”

“I’m asking you,” You challenge, “What do you like?”

“Control,” He answers quickly, without hesitation, “going to let me fuck your mouth, milaya?”

The softness of the word makes you smile, though it’s subtle.

“As you wish, your excellency.”

He hates the terms, the formality of it, but it only eggs you on further. He was still Paul in your eyes, but this was easier. It kept a level of disconnection you need.

His hand roots into your hair roughly, gripping a decent chunk before pulling you forward, his large hand enveloping your own to rub the head of his cock against your lips.

“Open,” He orders, pressing your mouth open, “further—-there, good.”

You moan at the guidance of his hand along your jaw as he presses himself further into your mouth, “I know,” He soothes, “it’s much larger than what you’re used to, isn’t it?”

And he was, by far—but you’re also not exactly inclined to say yes, not allowing another boost to his ever growing ego.

You moan softly, eyes falling shut when the head of his cock nudges against the back of your throat, breathing deeply through your nose as he watches, waiting for you to pull away.

It never comes.

You can see the burning flames of fire in his pupils, deep set behind those wide brown eyes. He’s speechless, for once.

He pulls you back harshly, allowing you a small gasp of air as the corners of your mouth quirk up in amusement.

“Does that answer your question?” You say teasingly, a mocking need to your tone that Paul has never heard before. But, he can’t be bothered to reprimand you, too busy wallowing in his own desperate need for pleasure, release—human connection, even.

Paul growls low through closed lips, pressing his cock back inside your mouth with ease, the warm, flat of your tongue running along the underside of it, a faint taste of his cum rendering you thoughtless.

It’s been long, far too long.

And you’d do just about anything for a moment of blissful peace, drowning in your own arousal.

His thrusts are pointed, lacking the delicate touch you’re used to, but it’s everything you need, swatting his hand away finally to cover what your mouth couldn’t possibly reach, his other still firmly fisted in your hair. It had to be a mess now, pulled from its bun and glowing over your shoulders.

Paul wasn’t trying his best to stay quiet either, groaning a flurry of obscenities above your head—“Fuckfuck—need to have you,” He begs, “I will not finish this night off without knowing every piece of you, darling.”

He pulls you away suddenly, lips flushed and covered in spit.

“Maybe I’ll make my mother happier with another heir,” He jokes lightly, pulling you to your feet, shoving you promptly onto the edge of the bed until you’re settled on your back, ass flush with his hips, the hard ridge of his cock pressing against your thigh, “—it’s only a joke, you may laugh.”

“I am unable to bare children, Paul.” You tell him openly, “Why do you think I have this job? Because I enjoy it?”

His fingers slip over your cunt wordlessly, pressing into you slowly. Two fingers instead of one, but the stretch is welcomed.

“What a shame,” He comments quietly, your breasts bouncing slightly bad your gripped the sheets beside your head, hips rocking with the steady movement of his fingers, “wish there were more help like you.”

“So you could fuck them, your majesty?” You retort.

It strikes a nerve, his cock replacing his fingers rather quickly, without warning. You gasp ruggedly, hand reaching out to grasp at his wrist, his hands smoothing over the tops of your thighs to pull you close, his brows drawn together in concentration, short blonde curls stick to his forehead.

“Watch your mouth.” He warns, eyes darkening with his words.

“Or what?”

You must’ve had a death wish, but Paul can’t even be bothered to act upset.

“I assure you, you do not want to find out.”

And with that, Paul swats your hand away, his own circling around the backs of your thighs to push them higher, his eyes dragging toward the point of connection, and you’re gripping him better than anyone he’s ever had, the warmth like a vice as he grunts, sharp thrusts producing the loud slaps of skin against skin mixed with your own desperate moans.

Paul doesn’t try to quiet you, only spurring him further into madness.

“Just as fucking mouthy as I thought,” He tells you, “why must you challenge me so much?”

“It’s—it’s,” You stammer, his hand muffling out the scream that threatened to escape, his eyes examining you until his thrusts slow slightly, allowing you to continue, “You like it too, I can see it.”

“So what?” He asks redundantly, breath labored, “Does that make you special?”

You reach for his white tunic, thighs widening to pull yourself upright, forcing him even deeper inside you. He watches you intently, your face stopping a few inches from his.

“You tell me, sir.”

“Paul,” He tells you, eyes rolling back as you squeeze yourself around him, the hand not busied with his shirt wrapping over his shoulder, pulling him to you, “say my name.”

“Paul,” You relent, adding a dangerous comment to hopefully spur him further into his growing addiction for you, “you shall be king soon, yes?”

He nods absently, his mouth reaching for you, tilting your head up to give him access to your neck, feeling that mouth to mouth might be too far, despite your current situation.

“Then fuck me like one.”

There’s a noise that settles in his throat, deep and suffocated as he grips the long tresses of your hair, pulling it taught as he fucked into you wildly, “You are dangerous, milaya.”

“I know,” You smirk viciously, head dipping down until your eyes connect, “—so come inside me. I will walk around the halls and no one will know, it will be our secret, sir.”

His face buried into your neck, one hand gripping at your thigh painfully tight as he slips one between you both, drifting over your clit gently, the small touch igniting a spark inside you.

It’s never something most men paid attention to, or yourself even, to busy with your duties to allow time like this to yourself—it doesn’t take much, a few quick, precise circles before your clenching around him tight, forcing him into his own orgasm, his teeth peeking out to bite against the skin of your neck softly, his groans muffled by the action.

There’s a moment of calm that washes over, Paul’s hips moving slowly as he comes back down, removing himself from you just as gently.

“Secrets.” He corrects. “I will never be done with you.”

You laugh softly, tilting your chin up dangerously close, lips barely grazing his own.

“I never asked you to be, milaya.” You retort, repeating his earlier term of endearment.

“Tell me,” He starts, eyes raking down your figure and back to your face, “do you understand Russian?”

You nod shyly.

“You are going to get me in trouble, my little darling.”

If only he knew how right he was.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

#joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #prince paul x reader #prince paul #prince paul x you #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #eddie munson #my writing

[iamsherlocked1479]

Admit it

Word count: 1.9k words

Description: Sherlock believes that lingerie is pointless so y/n decides to prove him wrong, no matter the costs.

Warnings: 18+, very angsty, BJ, P in V sex, choking, slut shame

A/N: this is my apology for not posting as much hope you like it! But chapter 11 is about halfway done atm.

“I don’t get it!” Sherlock shouted at the television screen, jolting you awake with his movement, you had fallen asleep on him again, which of course he didn’t have a problem with.

“W-what now?” You ask dazed from your sleep

“These adverts look at those women.” He pointed to the ad you had seen thousands of times for a designer company showing off their new lingerie.

“Its just an ad?” You say confused, this is your punishment for letting him get to intrigued in the reality tv shows you watch, his attempt of proving he could be a normal boyfriend.

“Yes but I don’t get why lingerie is so amazing.” He turned to you

“Because its a way to feel pretty, seductive almost.” You laugh

“But you don’t need lingerie to look beautiful.” He added

“You know you should use that line more often.” You laugh

“I really don’t understand society.” He sighed and turned his head back to the screen.

“So you wouldn’t care if i wore something like that?” You ask

“I prefer you in nothing, we both know that.” He squeezed your thigh

“No but its meant to make their partners want them more. A treat i would say.” You thought how you ended up explaining the use of lingerie to your boyfriend who was very much experienced by now in the arts of physical relationships with you.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.” You laugh “its like when you wear that purple shirt that’s slightly too tight for you” you smirk as his brow raises

“That actually explains a lot.”

“Never mind the show is back on.” You point to the screen

“You’re just going to fall asleep again.” He smiled

“Would that be a problem?” You ask

“Never.” He added, and as usual he was right. You woke up the next morning in you shared bed trying to work out how you’d gotten there but then remembered your conversation from last night, maybe he would like it if you wore lingerie. You hadn’t exactly tried that before, you knew he was probably out on a case so you got dressed with your mission clear. Finding the perfect lingerie to seduce the great Sherlock Holmes, who also happened to be the man who never had physical relationships with anyone, in a physical relationship with you.

You started out with a few common clothing shops with nothing really taking your fancy so you decided it would be better to look in the expensive shops, like the one from the advert. You browse the isles being amazed by the different styles and colours in all shapes and sizes before finally seeing the perfect set.

On a mannequin in front of you was a purple laced bra and panties set. It was almost the same colour as his shirt so you knew it would be perfect, the bra was lace and obviously see through and the panties would fit your figure just right.

It was early evening by the time you got home, and Sherlock’s violin could be heard throughout the apartment. He smiled when he saw you, but didn’t stop playing. It was obvious whatever case he was on was really toying with his mind mind.

“I’m just gonna take a shower.” You yelled not expecting a reply, it was time to put your plan into action. You showered and washed your hair, whilst also performing for the various bottles of shampoo that probably wished they didn’t need to hear the same verse from careless whisper three times over. You towel dry your hair enough so it wouldn’t be dripping wet, without getting too frizzy the next day and slipped on the lingerie. And god it was perfect, there was no way in hell even Sherlock holmes could deny you didn’t look good, you weren't one for loving yourself too much but this made it difficult.

You left the bathroom wearing only the lingerie and Sherlock was still playing, but upon hearing you enter the room he began playing a careless whisper mocking your singing.

“Was I really being that loud?” You laugh

“I’ve heard worse.” He still hadn’t turned around, dam his stupid mind palace.

“So what case are you stuck on?” You ask moving to the kitchen and ignoring the severed human limbs to make tea.

“A soldier was murdered, found dead in the shower, no way in, no way out and no signs of a struggle. Just dead, it appears as if a ghost killed him.” He still hadn’t turned around, god he was arrogant sometimes.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” You ask

“Yes and is there any biscu-.” He stopped and finally laid his eyes on you. Your back was to him, your ass clearly showing.

“Everything okay back there?” You smirk

“W-what are you wearing?” He asked, you could have swore you heard a gulp.

“Oh this little thing? I picked it up today. What do you think?” You tapped the tea spoon on the cup and turned around, he watched your every move as you entered the living room. You place the tea on the table and walk over to him, now he was intrigued. It was time to play your game. “Sit please” you push him back into his chair and he falls back with a huff his eyes scanning every part of your body.

“I- I think its n-nice.” He watched as you teased him moving your hips as you turned around allowing him to look at everything.

“But you see I’m not sure about it, could you have a closer look?” You step towards him, and place yourself in his lap straddling his legs, with your chest in his face, his hands slid up your legs towards your hips, but you pushed them away. “Ah ah, remember I thought you didn’t see the point in clothes like this. In my opinion i’d say they’re pretty effective.” You could feel him twitching beneath you,

“Maybe they are helping a tad bit.” He shuffled in his seat trying his best to do as you said but he wasn’t going to admit you were right.

“Pitty, I thought they were working.” You began circulating your hips, grinding yourself against his growing length, letting out small moans of pleasure. You watched as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly at the sensation of you rubbing against him. You moved your hands to his chest and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers moved closer to you tracing along your leg, but you stopped your movements and tutted. “Admit I was right and maybe I’ll let you touch.”

He grunted frustratedly he wasn’t one for admitting he was wrong, but here you sat in his lap grinding against him and he couldn’t even kiss you. “Shit” he sighed “fine you were right” you smiled at your win and pushed your lips against his and began moving faster.

“I can’t help myself around you, fuck baby.” He trailed his lips along your neck going in between the crevice of your breast with his tongue, he pulled down the straps of your bra and pulled your tits free. He took one into his mouth, nibbling the nipple slightly while gripping the other with his hand.

You gripped his hair pushing him further into your chest letting out more moans edging him on. You pushed your soaked cunt harder on him, making his cock rub against your clit beginning to causing the knot in your stomach to grow tighter, growing closer to your release. He purred into your chest as your wetness soaked through his trousers, which grew ever tighter with your work. You couldn’t hold it back any longer your hips jolted as you came,

“Oh fuck Sherlock yes, fuck you’re so hard its s-so good.”

“Mmm fuck i can’t wait any longer.” He stood up and carried you through the hall towards your bedroom, his lips still locked to yours as he kicked the door open and carried you to the bed. He dropped you there watching as you knelt below him, wiping the hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Want your cock, baby, I need it.” You whimpered as you unbuckled his belt. You pulled down his boxers and watched as he moaned as you licked a stripe down his length before gently sucking on his balls as your hand pumped him slowly. His head knocked back with a sigh of relief as you reached his tip again, and slowly began bobbing your head down over it, working your tongue around him before sinking down a little farther. You tried your best to swallow around him he helped by pushing himself in gently letting out deep moans the further you got. His hip’s jolted again as you pulled back and worked on the tip again, he was becoming too sensitive and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. He pushed your mouth away and brought you to his gently gripping your throat.

“Don't think I forgot you wouldn’t let me touch you, I won’t let that go unnoticed. I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for a week.” He pushed you onto the bed and positioned his frame over you, he practically ripped off the panties and entered with a hard thrust causing you to yelp and grip to the bed sheets. He pushed hard into you the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room accompanied by your moans, you clawed at his back as he fucked you

“Look at you so cock drunk, you think you can parade yourself around like a little slut in my apartment and get away with it. Do you?” He asked

“N-no.” You whimpered, leaning your head back as your back arched

“No what?” He grabbed your chin making your eyes level with his dark blues

“N-no sir.”

“Good.” He flipped you over and knelt over you, slowing his pace, taking more time to push harder into you. “Now say you’re sorry.” He slapped your ass, hard smiling as a pink gleam appeared

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered

“Good girl, now we can enjoy this.” He sped up his pace and placed one hand under you, his thumb rubbing your already swollen clit. The pulse of you clit sent waves through you as you squirmed, he fucked you hard through your orgasm

“Oh fuck, sherlock just there, thats right!” Your voice was muffled as you buried yourself in the sheets pulling them from the corners.

Sherlock groaned, he loved the sight of you being this way around him, so cock drunk you couldn’t even hold yourself up. He too was reaching his end the way your pussy clenched around his cock was enough to set him off, spewing thick white ropes deep inside of you and collapsing onto you.

He took a moment to cat his breath, his cock still inside you before pulling himself off the bed,

“Looks like you need another shower.” He held out his hand as you turned and sprawled onto the bed

“I can’t, too tired.” You say breathlessly

“I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.” He smiled while wiping the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Hmm” you groaned as your eyes fell closed. Sherlock fixed the sheets around you before wrapping your body in a cover and allowing you to sleep. He showered before going back to his violin, this time thinking only of you. Though he would never tell you, maybe just this once you were right.

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock holmes x reader #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock smut #smutty #sherlock bbc #y/n x sherlock #i am sherlocked #sherlockedit #spotify

[mitoad]

yandere ghost headcannons please!

okok to be honest I rarely imagine ghost to be a yandere,, his past was so hard and he most likely has the same fear of repeating the same mistakes of his father !! (plus I want him 2 get the love he deserves) BUT WHEN I CAN IMAGINE HIM AS A YANDERE … chomp munch crunch very very good food 

yan!simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader hcs !!

notes: mentions of trauma (ghost), descriptions of violence, obsession, gn! reader, mostly unedited (bear with me ill actually proofread one day maybe) (684 words)

I do feel like a lot of ghost's more yandere mannerisms would be due to his childhood. He'd never had the chance to be truly innocent, from his abusive father to the cartel that had mercilessly killed the rest of his family, the countless teammates that he had lost, there was always some form of blood on his hands. Years of distrust festered into seething, buried hatred for the amount of ugliness in this world. Burying himself in the only good he could trust in; the suffocating cigarette stained air of Captain Price, the familiar tone of the rugged Scottish accent that came from Soap, Gaz's charming smile.

So when he first meets you, so much more docile and harmless and friendly, never faced with the adversities that Simon had seen in the world, he silently slips your name into his head, keeping that precious string of words in the darkest- yet safest- parts of his brain. You were the light in his eyes that he had lost at an age so young, your presence arranging the constant static and ringing in his ears into a pleasant hum.

You never judge him when he flinches at the hiss of a snake, never belittle him for constantly wearing that cloth mask that concealed half of his face. He avoids it at first, how he relaxes whenever he sees you in the room, how he smiles beneath that mask when you wave at him.

He truly wants to believe it’s just some childish crush, a form of love that could only be protected for a matter of months.. That you were some odd fantasy he had developed due to the plethoras of trauma he had faced. 

But once you have him wrapped around your finger, once you somehow manage to break down the walls that he'd been suffocating in; he'll do anything for you. Cut out his tongue just to see you smile. Tear out his voice box just to your sweet rambles. 

he’s part of the sas; a man who was trained to kill without mercy, shown the tragedies of the world since he was a child. he has no issue dealing with anyone he thinks is bad for you. hell, ghost would protect you from just about anything- he’d do anything, lose anything, to protect you from the world he lived in. the violence he saw.

He thinks he knows what's best for you. Despises those jaded and ungrateful friends you have, how they never even reciprocated any of the care and support you gave. And that boyfriend you had- his sleazy grin and grubby hands all over you- christ, he swears he'll carve out that man's organs once he gets the opportunity.

and that’s when he decides he can’t let you keep mixing with those vermin, endangering yourself without even noticing. of course he believes you deserve far better than him- an eden so much different from the bloodshed and tragedy of this world, where everything was just as wonderful and lovely as you were. But he was the best option to keep you safe, to keep you happy. And he didn’t care how far he had to go due to it- he'd risk his career, his life, everything for you.

The method didn’t matter. Whether he convinced you with smooth words and empty promises or ripped out his intestines to chain you to his side, he was going to make sure that you were safe. That you were his.

So you wake up one day, wrists and ankles bound suffocatingly with rope, the coarse hairs stinging at you skin as you struggle to free yourself from the bedpost you were tied to. You can feel your heart twist in horror as you hear that familiar rough cockney accent. 

“sorry if I tied those ropes too tight,” it smells like ivory, blood. the brown eyes the ones that you had made a home in for the past year you spent with each other stared down at you. That wasn’t simon. That wasn’t simon. That was ghost. “just needed you keep you safe, love.”

#🍵 mito's writings °｡ ⋆⸜ #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod x reader #cod headcanons #cod hcs #call of duty headcanons #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere simon riley #yandere call of duty #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines

[ms0milk]

no cw so self indulgent, farmhand nanami showed up from nowhere like he was made in a lab to bewitch you <1k

He would look better on horseback this morning, cantering through fog falling cold from the mountains. Nanami is a handsome rider and he’s strong enough to do it well. His hips roll like they should in a saddle and his hair was always meant to be mussed by a breeze. Reins fit nicely in his golden hands. Regal might be a word you use as you bundle up in your doorway, watching the man emerge from a quickly-overgrowing gate at dawn. A word you might use if Nanami was actually on horseback and not leading your horse on foot, clearly mired with bramble thorns from waist to boot.

He’s wearing your hat. Nanami draws it low to hide his face and your sweet horse nips at his hand as they walk together; their gaits are both heavy with sleep. He’s never once looked disheveled but this morning his clothes hang quite well over his jeans where he’s usually so careful to tuck them in and in all he embodies the farmhand’s equivalent for wearing odd shoes to carry groceries inside.

A canvas coat that is clearly much too small on his broad shoulders, is thrown over a dress shirt– possibly two– you’ve never seen before and he couldn’t even manage to button one closed. His undershirt glows obnoxiously underneath as it hugs the shapes of his firm body. It’s a blessing to watch, a thought you will keep to yourself, and you open your door a bit wider in invitation.

“Early ride?”

He peers out under his brim at the sound of a voice and tips the hat off his head with a quickness when he sees you. He tightens his sleepy posture. Your pretty cream gelding is returned to his stall for breakfast before Nanami answers your question.

The only thing between the back stalls and your front door is moss. The earth this farm belongs to is wet with life. A thousand horseshoes have flatted the walkway like pressed powder and still the dandelions grow, pollen falls, petals fall, rain falls, snow falls freezes and melts and still your stables are warm and your dusty clearings grow grasses. You tighten your shawl around your shoulders. The morning fields are all mist and the sun can’t be bothered to warm you.

If you surprised him, it doesn’t show. Dewed pebbles crunch under Nanami’s boots as he crosses the clearing to reach you, you standing chilly in your sleepshirt with coffee brewing in the kitchen. You’d like to know why he’s wearing half the bramble patch as pants.

“M’sorry miss,” he rasps like he hasn’t spoken yet today and a quick twitch of his brows is the only thing that hints at embarrassment. Man of few words. English doesn’t seem to be his first language but he won’t tell anyone a thing about himself past what you all can observe. He works well, he works quietly. The animals love him and he doesn’t mind a bit of dirt. Nanami showed up in town a few months ago and the old boss hired him outright when she saw him in a full suit at sunday market. Horndog. She knew how good he’d look in chaps.

“Excuse my thieving” he murmurs this time to keep his voice soft and hangs your hat on the horn beside your door.

“Don’t call me miss, Mr. Nanami.”

“Excuse that too.”

Your hat hugged him too tight and his hair suffers for it, blond bits stuck flat to his head like a teenager with bedhead. He has to hang his head low to look at you for how much taller he is and you haven’t decided whether his dedication to eye contact is chivalry or flirtation. He’ll look through you to the bone with those sharp brown eyes, even if you’ve only just whistled good morning. Something inside him can’t help but call you miss.

“I’d love to hear this story,” you yawn slightly and gesture to his outfit, “I put a pot on.”

Nanami’s head tilts so slightly as he considers all the ways he might decline such an imposing offer but when you bump the door open a touch and bitter, bread, and jam roll out into the morning air you know you’ve got him. After all, what cowboy can resist coffee?

farmhand nanami tag <3

#farmhand nanami ˚⊹♡ #tbc dudes bc i need him to fuck me #nanami x reader

[slasher-male-wife]

Male reader making slashers realize they're queer

Because it's pride month and also because I've come across a lot of undisclosed fem reader stuff I decided to write this. The reader isn't specifically cis but they are seen as a man. I know Adam isn't a slasher but I've got Saw on the brain.

Includes: RZ Michael Myers, Brahms Heelshire, Martin Mathias, Severen, Adam Faulkner and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Slashers checking out reader, flirting, internalized homophobia on slashers part, reader wears "revealing" clothes (tank tops, shorts, being shirtless), vague descriptions of readers body, stalking kind of, mention of drinking blood in Martins bit

RZ Michael Myers

Michael noticed you moved into the same neighborhood as the Myers house. He finally saw you one hot summer day when you were outside doing yard work. You're wearing cut off jean shorts and a tight tank top. Michael questioned why you would wear something like this as a man.

But he couldn't deny that he enjoyed watching you work. Michael never explicitly knew anything about sexuality. He just knew if you weren't dating someone of the opposite gender, you'd be ostracized. But he couldn't help tilting his head as you wiped away sweat on your forehead while you mowed your lawn.

Michael felt the voice in his head telling him to attack you quiet down as a funny feeling bloomed in his stomach. He felt this way before when he saw something that excited him. But why would a man excite him like this? Michael went through any explanation he could in his mind while he watched you finish up your mowing. But eventually he realized, he might be attracted to you.

He momentarily thought about what other people would say, when he remembers he doesn't care. Watching you work out in your yard made him feel funny, and pushed away the voice in his head telling him to kill. He's felt this way before. But it was brief and usually only happened with women. You went back inside after you were done and Michael made a mental note of where your house is. He's most definitely going to be visiting you later Y/N.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms was delighted to learn he'd be getting a new grocery boy. Malcolm was annoying and that was before he stole Greta away from him. Now that he's hired a new grocery boy he's been anxious to meet you. The day finally came and he rushed in the walls to the door to meet you.

You entered the house and looked around, groceries in hand. You'd been told no one was home today so you made your way into the kitchen. Brahms follows you and he can't help but admire you. He's gone without seeing anyone for awhile and now seeing you is making him feel funny, like the way he did with Greta.

You set down the groceries in the kitchen and start to unpack them. Brahms watches as that funny feeling only grows. He's only felt this way about women before. He can't feel this way about a man right? His parents would have told him if he could. He puts a hand on his stomach to try and stop the feeling as you keep moving around the kitchen.

Brahms guesses boys can like other boys. He's never though about that before however. Maybe it's just the fact that he's been alone for so long that's making him feel this way. Maybe he just needs a better look at you. Brahms knocks gently on the wall and you turn your head to look over. He knocks again and you walk over to the wall.

Now that you're closer, Brahms funny feeling grows very strong. Could he really like other boys? He looks at your beautiful eyes and wonders what your lips would feel like if he were to kiss you. He watches as you walk away from the wall and you finish putting away the groceries. Maybe he could get you to stay and watch the doll for a few days, or forever.

Martin Mathias

Martin is making another grocery delivery. He knocks on your door and you open it, not wearing a shirt. You give him a smile and he smiles back shyly, looking back down at your shirtless chest.

"Oh you must be here to deliver my groceries. I'm Y/n. Your name is Martin right?" You ask. Martin nods, "Well come in. My wallet's in the kitchen." You walk away and he follows you, shutting the door behind him. He feels weird after seeing you shirtless. His eyes have always lingered on shirtless men and barely clothed men whenever he saw them. He follows you into the kitchen and sets down your groceries, looking back down at your chest again.

"Do you live alone Y/N? Or do you have a girlfriend?" He asks as you pull out your wallet.

"Oh no I live alone. If we're being honest, women don't interest me too much." Martin tries to understand what you mean by that as you hand him some money.

"Why are you shirtless?" He asks, resisting the urge to reach out and touch your stomach.

"Oh well I was just working on building some furniture upstairs. I could actually use some help on building it if you wouldn't mind." Martin pockets the money and shakes his head.

"I don't mind." You smile again and pat his shoulder, that weird feeling returning. It's like the feeling he gets when he sees a pretty woman passing by, but this time he doesn't want to drink your blood. He follows you upstairs and looks into your rooms before entering one with a half built bookcase.

"So I need someone to hold this down while I screw the back in." You explain, showing Martin what to do. He follows your instructions and holds it down while you screw it in. But the entire time he's just watching you. He's heard the term 'homosexual' be used in the past to describe men who love other men. Martin never considered himself to be a homosexual. But now looking at you, he might be one after all.

Severen

Severen leaves his room as it fully turns into night. The moon's high up in the sky and the soft yellow lights outside of the motel rooms shines down on him. He lights up a cigarette and starts to walk. He doesn't need to feed just yet, so picking up a pretty girl is the next best bet. He turns a corner and notices you standing in front of a vending machine.

Something comes over him in those first few moments he sees you. Despite being alive for a hundred and something years he's still denying the weird feeling he gets around certain men. Maybe it's the fact that he's full from his last feed, or some random courage, but he puts his cigarette between his lips and makes his way over to you.

"What's a young man like you doing at a motel like this?" He asks, looking you up and down. You turn your attention to him and smile.

"Well this young man is taking a road trip on a budget and this is the best motel he could find," You turn your attention back to the vending machine, "I didn't know it came with attractive men too." You whisper to yourself, pressing a button. Severen's smile grows wider and he takes a long drag from his cigarette.

"Hell I'm on a road trip too sweet thing. I never knew there would be such pretty boys here too. Now how about we go back to my room and play some cards." His smile grows smug as he taps off the ash from his cigarette. You hear the can of soda fall and you pick it up, turning your attention back to him.

"Well this 'pretty boy' was hoping to go out tonight. I never expected to have company but if you wanna come with me I heard of a great bar near here, the kind of the stone wall variety," You crack open your can and take a sip. Severen's smile only grows when he hears the mention of a bar.

"I'll take you up on that sugar. I'd like to buy you a nice drink tonight." This time your smile grows.

"I'm in room 22. How about you meet me there in half an hour. What's your name handsome?" You ask, taking another sip from your can.

"I'm Severen. I'm also very pleased to meet you."

"Well I'm Y/n. I'll see you in half an hour Severen." You turn around and head back to your room. He can't deny it any longer, he's definitely bisexual.

Adam Faulkner

Adam knocks on your apartment door. He's spoken to you over the phone about hiring him to take pictures of your work for a portfolio. He looks around the hallway, soaking in how much nicer this place is than his apartment. You open the door and greet him with a smile.

He immediately notices how attractive you look, then he notices your choice of shorts and shirt, both covered in fake blood, something peeling up and other unidentifiable stains.

"Oh you must be Adam. Please come in, come in. I'm working on something right now but I've got some other stuff ready for you to shoot." He nods his head and enters your apartment, which is much nicer than his, as he expected. He looks over at your living room and sees a white sheet hug up for a back drop and lots of Styrofoam heads, each with a different special effects makeup look.

"Your place is really nice," He says, looking over at you as you walk into the kitchen. He follows you and finds you in the middle of working on another Styrofoam head. This one has a rotting, zombies face on it, "You're really good at this stuff." He says, trying to distract himself from how hot you look. Adam know's he's not gay, he can't be gay. You smile and pick up a brush.

"Oh thank you. I've been doing this since I was a teenager. I need to update my portfolio and you're affordable and a great photographer. I just need to finish up this one look and we can get started." You say, putting some color on the brush and applying it on the mask.

"Yeah that sounds great. Do you have any roommates or anything I should be aware of?" He asks, more interested in if you're dating someone than anything else. He's telling himself it's just curiosity, it's not like he's gay or anything. You shake your head.

"I live alone, but I am looking for a roommate, ever since my partner and I broke up," You tell him, setting down your brush. Adam feels better when he hears you're single, but not because he wants to date you or anything, "Alright let's get started." You say, picking up the head and walking into your living room. Adam follows behind you and tries not to stare too low.

You set up the first head and look back over at him. Adam is setting up his camera on it's stand, trying to ignore his sweaty hands. But when he looks back at you adjusting the head, he can't deny it anymore. He finds a man hot as hell.

Bo Sinclair

Lester told him about someone coming into town. His exact words were "Not to be a prude or anything, but he's showing a little too much skin." Bo laughed it off and waited for you at the gas station. But when you walk in it takes Bo some effort to not laugh too loud. Your tank top and cut off denim shorts reminds him of when he was a teenager. But it also gives him another thought, one he quickly pushes away.

"Howdy, what do ya need?" He asks. You walk up to the counter and give him a warm smile.

"You'll have to forgive me I'm not any good with cars but the man who drove me here said my car is low on oil and I needed to buy some." Bo nods his head and looks you up and down.

"When was the last time you changed your oil?" Your eyes widen and you press your lips tightly together.

"You're supposed to change your car's oil? Well shit I've been driving it for about a year now. Is that bad?" Bo smiles smugly as those thoughts return, and he tries to think about why these thoughts keep happening. Just because he thinks you're a little hot and stupid doesn't mean he's gay.

"Well I'll tell you what. We can go pick up your car in my tow truck and bring it back here to fix it up. Are you here with anyone else? I don't wanna keep your girlfriend waiting or anything." Your smile returns and you shake your head.

"Oh no I'm alone. I don't have a partner to come with me on these road trips." Your language tips Bo off and he quickly decides what he should do with you. He feels around his pocket, pretending to look for something.

"Shoot you know what? I forgot my keys up at my house. Why don't you come with me real quick to go get them sugar." You chuckle and nod your head.

"I've got plenty of time sir you don't need to worry." As he's walking around the counter at the gas station it finally hits him that maybe he really is gay.

"I promise you've got nothing to worry about darlin' and please, call me Bo."

#michael myers x you #michael myers x y/n #rz myers x reader #brahms x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #martin mathias x reader #severen x reader #adam faulkner x reader #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #bo sinclair x you #bo sinclair x y/n #bo sinclair x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction

[inklore]

now i haven’t seen the show so idk nothing about daemon but i do know that he is HOT and i do know that i would love to have his hand around my throat🥰 idk i think he’d like it too xx

pairing: daemon targaryen x princess!reader warnings: choking kink, insinuations of dry humping/thigh riding. etc: i’d let this man put me in my grave and smile while he covered me with dirt and i have no shame about it!!!

The smile that spreads across your lips is a threat to the man above you. A threat of what is still being put to debate in his head; the surprise evident on his features when he wrapped his fist around your neck—a show of repercussion of a teasing game you should not have been playing—pushing your backside to the cold concrete of the corridor.

You smiled.

Men and women fell to their knees before him, sacrificed the ones they loved, bedded, barely knew to save themselves from his wrath—his blade.

And you had smiled at the threat.

Princess' coward, begged for mercy, pleaded, questioned 'why them' and 'please spare me's'.

They did not wear sinful smiles upon feeling a tight grip encase the column of their neck. A sneer spoken just before that, a warning that had done the opposite of its intention. Their mouths did not hang open on a whimper when that grip tightened, having full knowledge that the man in front of them could drain the life from their corpse in a matter of minutes.

They didn't get off to the idea, to that power.

But maybe that is why Daemon liked you so. Maybe that's why his interests had peaked when he first lay eyes on you—even after you had gotten on his nerves with your games.

When your father all but offered you up on a silver platter for wolves to feast at; himself being the biggest and baddest of them all. He had saw something in you. Something unobtainable, traits in a lady that should anyone find out were there would have her hanging from a tree.

His wrist making the perfect noose.

To hang you from that dark tree of temptation. To let the unobtainable be contained by his own doing. His own hands.

"Does it feel good?" Daemon asks. Brings his lips hovering above yours as his fingers dig into your neck, that whimper finally releasing itself from your lungs.

The nod you give him is all it takes to chisel away what's left of the resilience he had been holding on to to behave. To not take a bite of the tempting fruit that you were.

He's in enough trouble.

But when has he ever denied himself something as delicious as this? Especially when it looked as devouring as you did playing innocence for all to see but devilishly guilty when only his eyes were looking.

Something that felt this inviting and heavy on the hardness of his cock the more it grew with the desire to lay you out below him, and peel back every dark layer you may have, every seed that might match his; was not something you kept yourself from.

He was never a man of self control to start with anyway.

Daemon pushes his knee between your legs, his free hand pulling your skirts up enough to have the heat of your cunt pressing at his clothed thigh. "By all means then Princess, take what you need." He smirks down at you, running his thigh along your heat.

#daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen one shot #daemon targaryen x fem!reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #daemon targaryen fic #house of the dragon smut #thots !

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

congrats on 1k! can I request bucky fluff where the reader is plus sized and is insecure about her stomach & love handles specifically so she distances herself from bucky and doesn’t want him to see her for a couple days but on the last day she just breaks down and he helps her🥺 thank you

im plus sized too and I’ve been having a hard time recently. 🤍

༉‧₊˚. 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬) 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬

― pairing: bucky barnes x plus size!reader

― summary: the toxic thoughts never really went away, and instead of pushing bucky away, you finally decide to let him in, to help you.

― warnings: body Issues, insecurities, crying, a bit of self-hatred if you squint, referenced bullying.

― wc: 1014

⋆ a/n: i'm sorry this had been sitting in my inbox for so long, but i hope you feel better, and just a reminder, you are beautiful/handsome/gorgeous or whatever terms you prefer, and you don't have to change for anyone.

masterlist | AO3

It was no secret that you were bigger than everyone else; chubby, plus sized, fat, plump, curvaceous, whatever you call it, that was who you were. It was hard being larger than other people throughout your childhood to teenage years, people were mean, and it most definitely altered the way that you thought about yourself.

Even though you were an adult now and managed to separate yourself from that toxic mindset that you had to be skinny to be beautiful, degrading thoughts popped up occasionally. It was a subtle change, starting from paying extra attention to how your double chin looked in pictures, to how your clothes felt a little too tight and itchy against your skin, and ever since you had begun to date Bucky, these episodes grew intense.

When you were a teenager, it felt as though no one would ever have a crush on you, and even if they did, they would rather be caught dead than admit that they were into the cute chubby chick in their class. With Bucky, this was totally different. He wasn’t afraid to be vocal about his attraction to you, let alone able to keep his hands off you; he was always grabbing something, either that be your hand, thigh, hip, waist, and scandalously enough, sometimes your tits and ass.

So, when you had moments like these where you couldn’t help but glare holes at the prominent bumps in your pants, the curve of your stomach that pushed out your shirt, you didn’t want to be touched, let alone be around Bucky. When you felt so lowly about yourself, you began to question your self-worth, questioning whether you deserved Bucky’s affections, that you deserved him. It was no secret that Bucky was extremely handsome, that he was quite the charmer with his sarcasm and flirtatiousness, and he directed all of that to you.

It surprised you at first, that a man like him confessed that he couldn’t keep his head on straight while you were around him, that his brain trailed to many different places when he thought about you.

It had been a couple of days since you had texted Bucky, let alone took him up on any of his offers to go out on a date. You couldn’t imagine yourself wearing that dress that your boyfriend loved so much, couldn’t fathom him even being seen with someone like you. Being cooped up on your couch in clothes that were big enough to practically blanket over your full body while wallowing in self-pity seemed like a better time to you than tolerating the rather judgmental glances people on the streets would give the two of you. Trashy tv had been playing for longer than you could remember, your home growing to become an absolute mess, the motivation to practice self-care had pretty much been thrown out of the window.

Occasionally you pondered the idea of instead of shutting Bucky out when you had gotten like this, talking to him about it. You didn’t want to sound whiny or like you were searching for compliments, seeing as though he never forgot to remind you every single day that he thought you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen, and he had been alive for a very long time. You knew he wouldn’t be mean about it, that he would be more than happy to reassure you that you were his, that your body was like a temple that he felt was a privilege for him to be able to explore.

Then it hit you, like that wall of despair had finally crumbled down, and then, you were crying. The feeling of loneliness loomed over you as you allowed yourself to sob, to feel warm tears trail down your plump cheeks. Reaching for your phone, you didn’t hesitate to click on Bucky’s number. He didn’t even allow it to ring over one time before he picked up.

All he had to hear was your sniffles before you received a, “I’m on my way, doll.”

It didn’t take him that long to reach your building, opening your door with a key that you had given earlier in the relationship. You tugged him into a deep embrace, burying your face in his shoulder as you shook. His metal arm held you close to him as his flesh one stroked your back soothingly, only moving when you had calmed down. That’s how you wound up sitting on the couch once again, Bucky’s hand laying comfortingly on your thigh as he waited for you to tell him what happened.

“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you, Buck.. I just.. haven’t been too comfortable with my looks lately. Whenever I get like this, I sometimes question whether or not you should even be with someone like me. I mean c’mon, I’ve been dating an ex-avenger, the guy that helped take down the Flag Smashers. When I think about it, me and you just sound kind of ridiculous.” You knew your words sounded cruel, painful even as Bucky felt like his heart was getting ripped out of his chest. “Baby, nothing about us sounds ridiculous. In fact, I think we sound just right. You’re my girl, sweetheart, I chose to be with you, to let you see all of me, and you know that’s not easy for me to do.” The hand that was on your thigh moved up to cup your cheek, gently pulling your attention to him.

“I love all of you. Every single curve, bump, and flaw that you may think you see in yourself. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone or anything, so try to remember that for me, please, hun.” You felt tears springing back into your eyes as you allowed him to pull your body into his, laying himself down so you could lay directly on top of him. “Buck..” You whispered in embarrassment. “Ah ah ah, doll.  I think you keep forgetting that I’m a super soldier.” He teased, wrapping his arms around you.

“Sometimes.” You said sheepishly with a smile on your face.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love

#✰ ― meau's inbox ! #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x plus size reader #x plus size reader #plus size reader #plus size!reader #x chubby reader #chubby reader #fanfiction #fluff #boyfriend bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky marvel #bucky barnes marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier #marvel #the falcon and the winter solider fanfiction #marvel fanfiction

[ingravinoveritas]

A few paparazzi pictures of David looking extremely heterosexual with Dermot O'Leary in Bristol today.

#david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #dermot o'leary #i know you can't tell a person's sexuality from how they stand/talk/etc. #but this is like...come on now #seriously the amount of bi energy he exudes in this #sylph like chest and slinky hips #david is lowkey bi and michael is highkey bi #i have never seen anyone wear tight clothes like this man wears tight clothes #bless #can't wait to see what he wears on The One Show tomorrow #discourse #this man is a bi disaster and i love him

[odditycircus-2002]

When Baraka saw You grow Wings

(A small drabble idea that came to mind that I decided to write down for my mental health. Also because I know what it's like dealing with back problems.)

To clarify from one of my headcanons post for Mortal Kombat 1, when Medusa!Reader was transformed, you didn't immediately grow wings. That would come later on when you ran away to the Tarkatan Colony.

/

Barka noticed how you retired to your quarters earlier than usual, which wouldn't be too concerning. If it weren't for how often you lean against something while groaning in pain and how you're often scratching at your back. Yet, you would wave off anyone’s concerns, stating that it’s just temporary and manageable. Baraka isn’t too convinced though, judging by how sluggish you are by the next day from a lack of sleep. The former merchant and tribune may not have much medical expertise, but he wishes you’d let him or ANYONE of the colony look over you. It doesn’t help at all that you cover yourself head to toe in a hooded cloak and robes, or constantly wear a mask. A mask he’s never seen you without.

Baraka eventually gets his wish, in a way, when he and his hunting party returned with a decently sized boar/like creature only for a young man afflicted with Tarkat to run up to him, out of breath. “Baraka, come quick! There-There’s something wrong with the Healer!”

The afflicted man wasted no time to rush toward your dwellings where a sizable crowd of Tarkatans had gathered outside. They are murmuring anxiously amongst themselves, wondering what will happen to them if their only Healer dies. Immediately, Baraka understands the concern when he hears a strained scream echoing from your home.

"WHY DID HE LET ME LIVE?!?"

The former tribune barks for no one but him to enter, for now. The crowd parts away for him as he makes his way into your living space.

He pushes aside the curtains hanging in your doorway, spotting you on your sleeping mat. You are curled up into a tight ball with your back to Baraka, mask off to the side. Your sides rise and fall as you take in deep breaths, trying to manage the agonizing burning pain that wracks your back. “Y/N? Y/N, tell me what’s wrong, please!”

Baraka pleads as he kneels beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. Only for you to let out a pained groan, before you grab your hood to hide your face.

“Don’t look pleassse!”

You hiss out before letting out a shout you barely choke back. Baraka pulls his hand away before he gets up and looks over to your apothecary cabinet. He grabs a small pot he’s seen you use for newly torn open skin, before then reaching for a small bottle filled with painkilling herbs he recognizes from his military days. Baraka then grabs a cup to fill with water from a canteen you often carry before kneeling beside you to place down all these items.

“Just take this, they help with the pain don’t they?”

You manage to rasp out,

“Noooo… saving those… for … others”

Baraka’s eyes widen at your words before his brows furrow.

"I admire that even now you're thinking of the colony. However, you're no good to anyone if you don't help yourself first."

You open your mouth to refuse, only to shudder violently as another wave of pain fills your body. Once you're able to speak again, you finally reply

"F-fine. Just... look away... please."

Baraka nods

"Understood."

He then turns around, listening to you pull yourself up, at least enough to take the herbs and down the water. Baraka speaks again when he hears you open you open the small pot.

"I could help with your back."

Silence fills the air as you contemplate Baraka's offer, before you shift on your mat to lie back down with your back to him.

"Fine. You can look now."

Baraka faces toward you once more to find the pot open. He picks it up before taking a look at your back, only to find it to be writhing as if there was something stuck underneath the clothing, now stained with two dark spots that smell strongly of blood. Baraka moves his gaze toward the door at the sound of footsteps, as a member of his hunting party parts your curtain to inquire about you.

''I'll be caring for her. Make sure everyone gets their portions of the prey we caught. Inform the rest of the colony that we are not to be disturbed UNLESS it's an emergency. "

"Yes sir."

The other Tarkatan then walks away to carry out his orders. With no more distractions, Baraka turns his attention back on you. Without another word, he grabs the back of your tunic and tears it open like it were tissue paper. His eyes widen at the sight of what looks like two bleeding bumps writhing between your shoulder blades. Upon closer inspection, those bumps looked to be something like the tip of claws.

"How long?"

Baraka inquires.

"About a moon ago. I don't know what's happening to me... I'm really scared, Baraka."

A heavy silence falls between you, as Baraka gets to work on putting the salve on your back. The former tribune notes how it's firmer than humanoid flesh with F/C scales speckling your back. You let out a sigh of relief as you feel the cool salve dampening the pain in your back.

"Baraka?"

The man makes a noise of acknowledgment.

"Could you please stay with me? For the rest of the night, I mean."

You don't see the soft expression on Baraka's face.

"I'm not going anywhere, Y/N."

This proves to be true as for the rest of the night until the first light, Baraka stayed by your side. He only left to get you more water and food for you to eat, respecting your wishes and turning away as you do. He offered you a hand to hold as a stab of pain occasionally ripples through you. Eventually, you would pull yourself to his lap, wrapping your arms around his waist while burying your face into his stomach. Baraka didn't have to ask why you did this when a loud CRACK and SNAP echo within your dwellings.

"GAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

You scream as you dig your nails into Baraka's flesh. The latter lets out a reflexive growl but doesn't push you away. Your howl was loud enough to attract some passersby, including the Tarkatan from earlier, to poke their heads into your living space. Baraka quickly dismissed them and repeated how no one else was to enter.

After they left, the sound of wet tearing fills the former tribune's ears. Baraka watches with widened eyes as something like a folded clawed arm covered in blood starts to emerge from your back. You pant heavily as your hold on Baraka temporarily lessens, before you then start to sob quietly.

"Wh-why did he do this to me? Why? Why?"

A somber look settles on the afflicted man as he mutters some words of both encouragement and assurance, as you had done so many times for your dying patients.

"I promise you, I'll make the man who did this to you pay tenfold."

Baraka's not sure you even heard him over your sobbing, but he'll promise this as many times as you need to hear.

So the cycle repeats. You would shudder and spasm in pain, before you shriek in pain as the limbs in your back slowly emerge. Baraka would let you scratch him up and endure the ringing in his ears, before supporting you in any way he could. This includes water, some more pain medication, or an assuring touch. Finally, by first light, the pain stops.

The limbs on your back fully emerged from your back, which turned out to be full-blown wings. Your wings were bat-like and leathery, strongly resembling those of a Vaternian. Not for the first time, the colony's leader ponders what exactly you are or becoming. No matter, having you finally resting in his lap after an entire night battling your body, Baraka is glad to see you're alright.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #shang tsung #mortal kombat 1 #Oddball writes #drabble #baraka x reader #baraka #mk1

[silverynight]

The nightclub

Izuku is actually very lucky; he has a job that pays really good and he gets to meet a lot of pro heroes. Of course he would've preferred to meet them wearing more clothes (because he's shy) but the bunny outfit is cute. Sure, it's also very tight, but Izuku has gotten used to it.

Besides, he's only there to greet customers so he doesn't have to flirt with them or sit on their laps like his co-workers do; at least they seem to enjoy it, especially when they get to meet gorgeous pro heroes.

Izuku has seen a couple of the other workers or "bunnies" fighting over Red Riot, Pinky, Grand and a lot of the top pro heroes...

In the time he's been working there Izuku has never seen Dynamight, although for some reason and based on what he knows about the explosive hero, it makes sense. It seems like he doesn't like to be in that kind of places.

Red Riot has made a couple of comments to Izuku about his friend (customers sometimes stay a little bit longer in the lobby just to talk with Izuku, they're usually friendly) and it seems he likes to go to bed early and doesn't enjoy meeting new people.

"The loser is not even dating anyone at the moment," Pinky adds, touching Izuku's shoulder and leaning closer to him.

"Maybe he hasn't found the right one yet," he says gently, smiling at her.

"I don't think he wants to find anyone," Chargebolt cuts in with an amused smile. "Besides, he's not... friendly."

"But he's not bad!" Red Riot protests.

"I'm sure he isn't," Izuku agrees, noticing that the security guards of the place are getting irritated; they always do, especially when clients stay a little bit too long in the entrance. "Well... I hope you enjoy–"

"I bet you'd make him change his mind, cutie," Pinky says, with a wolfish grin on her beautiful face.

"I don't think so," Izuku mumbles, shaking his head.

"It's time to get inside," one of the guards protests, prompting Chargebolt to pout. "There are more people waiting."

"Fine!" Pinky rolls her eyes at them before giving Izuku a sweet smile. "We'll see you again in a bit, pretty!"

The place belongs to the Todoroki family, which is why pro hero Shoto comes in the place every now and then, he doesn't stay long, sometimes he just meets with his siblings or his father there, although he always stays for a while to chat with Izuku.

He's actually the reason why Izuku doesn't have to be inside and hand drinks or sit on the clients laps (the ones who actually ask for it) instead he gets to be in the lobby to greet customers.

"I don't mind doing the other stuff," Izuku had told Shoto, but the pro hero insisted on keeping him at the entrance.

"Midoriya," the pro hero surprises him again that night. "It's nice to see you."

Izuku beams before waving at the pro hero's sister as well.

"Business meeting?"

"Something like that," Shoto says, looking down at the bunny outfit. "So they gave you an emerald one this time..."

"Yes, they told me it'd look good with my eyes," Izuku says, feeling a little bit flustered out of the sudden.

"It does."

"Thank you!"

Shoto gets a message on his phone, grimaces and tells Izuku he'll see him before leaving.

He's little bit quiet and serious, but a really good friend once you get to know him. Or at least that's what Izuku thinks.

***

It's really late when he finally heads home, the good thing is that he doesn't live that far from the nightclub so he usually walks all the way towards his apartment.

"Oh, hello, pretty!" There's a man in the alley; Izuku can tell by the way he speaks and walks that he's had a couple of drinks so he pretends he can't listen to him.

However, the man gets angry and starts calling him a whore; Izuku keeps looking right ahead, but listening carefully behind himself.

When the man starts following him, Izuku begins to walk faster, but perhaps the man wasn't as drunk as he initially thought because he gets a lot closer.

Izuku turns around and starts thinking about his self-defense class, he has taken a couple of those for the past years just in case...

He feels a tug on the back of his neck, like someone's pulling his hair with a lot of force from behind. But the man is right in front of him.

And he's grinning. It must be a quirk. He must be able to control things with his mind.

"If you behave, I won't hurt you. I just want to have fun."

Instead of getting scared, Izuku tries to do something unexpected to distract him; he runs towards him and kicks him on the shins to make him fall.

It works. Izuku starts running away, but this time the tug is stronger and he falls all over his backpack. And the man is standing again, but this time he has a knife in his hand.

He jumps at him, but Izuku rolls away in the last second and gets up again.

Izuku feels a pull on his arm and a hand close to his face, but he's ready this time: he bites the hand and the pain is enough to distract the man.

"Fuck you, you fuc–"

From the shadows, someone knocks the man out.

Izuku recognizes the hero suit even before the blond walks into the light completely. Dynamight is a lot taller in person.

"Sorry to steal all the fun, but I got really pissed at him," he huffs, grimacing at the unconscious man on the ground before smirking at Izuku. "You were handling it pretty well... for a nerd."

He adds the last bit after noticing Izuku's All Might shirt...

"Thank you, Dynamight," Izuku mumbles then, feeling himself blush. The truth is that he's one of his favorite pro heroes, but he's not going to say that to him. Not after being called nerd.

"Bakugo Katsuki."

"Midoriya Izuku."

Dynamight stares at him with a huge grin, his red eyes make Izuku feel flustered again.

"Listen, Izuku. I'll tie this fucker up and leave him here for the police to find and then I'll take you home."

Izuku is still processing the fact that Dynamight chose to use his first name even though they just met.

"There's no need, Dynamight–"

"Too bad you don't have a choice, nerd. And call me Katsuki."

"But we just met!"

"So?" It seems the situation is really amusing to the pro hero... Which means Izuku has zero chance of changing his mind.

"Fine. I'll call you Kacchan then!"

"What? That's not..." He stops, as he finishes tying the man up. When he notices that Izuku is trying not to chuckle, he smiles back. "You can call me Kacchan if that's what you want, Izuku."

He doesn't know how, but he makes Izuku's name sound more intimate than it already is.

"Come, Izuku... Let me walk you home."

Even though Dynamight is clearly teasing him, Izuku is enjoying every second of it.

"Thank you, Kacchan."

***

It's been three days since he met Katsuki and even though Izuku would like to see him again, he knows it's not going to happen. But at least meeting him was good.

He's not as grumpy or difficult as some people on Twitter claim he is; he's nice and funny and very kind.

"Pretty bunny!" Pinky grins, startling Izuku for a moment.

"Oh, hi!" He's glad the lobby is mostly dark with blue and pink lights; it's difficult to notice if someone's blushing that way. And his face turns pink quite often. "So... A nice couch inside for three?"

"I called earlier actually," Pinky says, grinning from ear to ear. "This is a special occasion, we'll be celebrating our friend's birthday here."

Izuku grabs the iPad on the counter and starts looking for the reservation... They requested a private couch inside the club.

"Sure!" He grins, looking at the entrance. "Do you want me to take you already or shall we wait for–"

Chargebolt walks in, looking a little bit embarrassed, behind him someone is cursing loudly as Red Riot is struggling with said person outside.

"I TOLD YOU I DIDN'T WANT TO COME! THIS IS A SHITTY PLACE!"

"Come on, Bakubro! Just give it a chance!"

"I'm really sorry about him, Midoriya," Chargebolt apologizes, looking like he wants to disappear.

"What are you–Kacchan?"

Suddenly, Katsuki stops struggling, he shakes Red Riot's hand away and rushes into the lobby until he's right in front of Izuku.

"Izu... ku?" Katsuki chokes as soon as he notices the bunny outfit Izuku is wearing and his cheeks turn bright red in seconds.

So Izuku was wrong, everyone can see when someone's blushing even under that particular light.

"Do you know each other?" Pinky asks excitedly at the same time Red Riot blurts out: "Is this the cute guy with freckles you haven't stopped talking about, Bakubro? That's so manly!"

"SHUT UP!"

Despite the way he yells at them, it's obvious Katsuki is flustered.

"Why does he call you Kacchan?" Chargebolt asks, looking quite amused.

"I'm sorry!" Izuku apologizes immediately. He's at work, he shouldn't have used that nickname, although in his defense he didn't expect to see him there. "Dynamight–"

"No, please... You can keep calling me Kacchan," Katsuki says, ignoring his friends' smiles.

Izuku nods, feeling his cheeks like they're on fire, but he manages to smile back at him.

"Alright... Since it's your birthday, the first round of drinks is on the house and you can choose a bunny boy or girl to keep you company the whole night," he says easily; it's not the first time he does it. A lot of pro heroes like to come to the club on their birthdays. "Now let me take you to your private couch."

Izuku pushes the main door and immediately the music gets louder; people are already dancing and chatting, but they move out of the way when they see them.

"I didn't know the outfit included a fluffy bunny tail!" Pinky has to yell behind him, the music is loud, but Izuku manages to hear what she's saying anyway.

"Yes! All the bunny suits include one!" Izuku replies without looking back, they're almost there.

"Blasty seems to be fascinated by the tail because he hasn't stopped staring at it!" She laughs, ignoring the growl behind her. "Or maybe he's just looking at your–"

"SHUT THE HELL UP!"

"Here we are," Izuku is glad he doesn't have to raise his voice anymore. The music gets a little bit muffled by the booth around the couch. "A couple of our bunnies will come to take–"

"I want you to keep me company for the rest of the night, Izuku."

"I can't, Kacchan," he says, looking away. It's the first time he laments being the one who greets the customers instead of bringing them drinks. "I have to stay in the lobby."

"You said I could choose whomever I wanted to keep me company..."

"Well... yes, but not me."

Katsuki pouts and his friends try really hard not to laugh.

"You can go now, pretty. Blasty will be fine."

***

Izuku is a bit distracted the rest of the night, he keeps thinking about how Katsuki is doing. Is he having a good time? He must be because they haven't walked out yet.

When his shift is over and he comes out of the bathroom with his own clothes, Izuku sighs and wonders if he'll see the pro hero again. Well, he probably will if Katsuki decides to come back.

"Let me walk you home..."

Izuku gets startled when he hears his voice; Katsuki and his friends are outside, waiting for him. The other three pro heroes are chuckling and whispering to each other with amusement.

"Blasty was a pain in the ass the whole time," Pinky tells him, ignoring Katsuki's glare. "I think he scared the bunnies with his attitude; he was throwing a tantrum because he wanted you to be there."

"I WASN'T–"

"Well... Our Uber is here!" Red Riot cuts him off, pointing at a car. "You two have a good night! And be nice, Bakubro!"

"I'M ALWAYS NICE, SHITTY HAIR!"

Izuku can't help but chuckle at the same time Katsuki's friends roll their eyes at him. Then he realizes that the others purposely left them alone and his laughter fades away.

"Can I... walk you home, Izuku?"

"Of course, Kacchan," he smiles, cheeks turning slightly pink under Katsuki's soft glance.

The pro hero takes his hand then, the grip is gentle, almost like he's waiting for Izuku to shove his hand away. However, Izuku intertwines their fingers instead.

The moon up in the sky has never looked so beautiful like in that moment.

***

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#bnha #my hero academia #mha #bkdk #bakudeku #bakugou katsuki #izuku midoriya

[ga-yuu]

Angels, Demons and Jewels of Love ~ THE NINE CURSED MARKS

Sneak Peak of the PROLOGUE ~ Introduction of MC

When someone gives a piece of jewellery to a loved one.

Both the recipient and the giver are blessed and glorified by those around them.

The road ahead for those two was sure to be full of light-----

MC: "Welcome. Please feel free to look around."

This is the jewellery department in the Lunaschente department store.

Jewellery, a symbol of happiness.

I am proud to be in the business of selling it.

(Giving a piece of jewellery to a loved one...)

(I hope one day I will have the opportunity to do so as well...)

Male customer: "Excuse me?"

While polishing a glass case at the counter, a couple approached me.

MC: "Yes. How can I help you?"

Female customer: "I want to buy a necklace, but I can't make up my mind...."

The couple, who are probably in their 20s is already wearing matching rings.

MC: "I'll be happy to recommend you some necklaces that would suit you both."

Female customer: "Wow. Thank you! ......Ah! Miss."

MC: "Yes?"

Female customer: "The brooch on your chest is so beautiful."

Female customer: "Is that a product here?"

MC: "Oh no no.....this one is my personal belonging."

Female customer: "Oh really!?"

After glancing at the brooch I always wear,

I turned to the couple and started showing our products with a smile.

(It was this 'brooch' that made me fall in love with jewellery itself)

This 'brooch' was brought from a jeweller in my grandparents' generation and passed on to my mother.

When I turned 20, my parents gave it to me as a birthday present.

(This 'brooch' has the power to make wishes come true)

(Is what my grandma used to say)

(I don't believe in such magic but....)

Still, I held onto it and always wore it as a lucky charm.

Female customer: "Ah! I love this one! The design and the colour of the gemstones are so beautiful."

Male customer: "If you like it, then let's buy that.....excuse me, Miss?"

(I believe that every piece of jewellery has the power to make people happy)

MC: "Thank you for your purchase."

MC: "I wish you both all the happiness in the world."

The couple who purchased the necklaces looked very happy from behind.

(The path you two are on must be filled with happiness...)

..........

On my way home.

(Today is late than usual)

I was walking down a somewhat unsafe road, which I would never normally choose.

(This road is darker than I thought, but it's a shortcut to get home faster)

While praying for nothing to go wrong, and fast-tracking my way, when I turned around the corner.

Thug: "Coming home from work? I've seen you somewhere. You're the woman from that department store, right?"

A man in dirty clothes, reeks of alcohol.

My path was blocked by the man with an unpleasant aura and I can't help but look away.

MC: "Please move..."

I unconsciously held my bag in my arms as if to protect myself and the man grinned.

Thug: "You have that nice brooch, right? How much is it?"

MC: "It's a gift from my parents....it's not for sale..."

Thug: "Really? Can I see it?"

MC: "Hey! Let go!"

As I was trying to shake off his tight grip.

Suddenly the thug in front of me was blown away by some force.

??? (Stephen): "........Tch, how unsightly."

(....Wha? W-What was that?)

A tall man emerges from the darkness and looked like he simply punched the guy.

MC: "T-Thank you very much...."

But my saviour takes one look at me and sighs.

??? (Stephen): ".....*sighs* He who has no desire to live in dark places..."

??? (Stephen): "Must not sneak into one."

His eyes seemed to say that I asked to be attacked.

He shooes me away and disappeared into the darkness, while dragging the thug with him.

(....At least, my brooch is safe)

Just in case, I took off my brooch and kept it my bag.

??? (Gabriel): ".....Hey you!"

I hear another voice and looked up to another strange man appearing before me.

??? (Gabriel): "I'm looking for a man. Have you seen anyone around here?"

??? (Gabriel): "Maybe a dirty drunkard, who doesn't seem to have anything to with noble-looking man like me."

MC: "Oh. I just saw another man taking him away. Just now, over there."

??? (Gabriel): "Hmmm...I see...."

When I pointed at the direction into the darkness, where the two of them disappeared, the 3rd man went into the darkness without giving me a second glance.

??? (Gabriel): "This country is still in such a dark place...."

The only words heard were grunts that were not directed at anyone.

(....Is he a police officer or something? He has a strangely scary atmosphere)

Some of the main streets in this country have developed spectacularly such as the department stores where I work.

But one step into the back alleys and one will find remnants of the 'darkness' of a previous era.

I decided to turn around to escape and take the well-lit road back.

I thought I'd made up my mind not to go near that alleyway again------

Sneak Peek of the PROLOGUE ~ The two mafia gang

The members of Sheol stood behind me and the members of Elysium stood in front of me.

Surrounded by the two mafia gang, I was panicking and had no way of escape.

(Is there nothing I can do right now.......?)

How should I protect the brooch in such a desperate situation?

Mikhail: "Hey boss, there's a report."

One of the Elysium members looked impatient and calls out to Mr. Gabriel.

Gabriel: "Hmm, okay..."

After nodding a several times, Mr. Gabriel then looks at me.

His usual mocking smile is slapped on his face.

Gabriel: "The brooch isn't in your room....."

Gabriel: "Which means, you have it with you right now. Am I correct?"

(.....You searched my house!?)

There was no words for how insolent it is.

(What should I do now....!? They'll find out soon.....)

Without paying attention to my shocked expression, Mr. Gabriel continued talking.

Gabriel: "From now on, Elysium will take custody of you."

Gabriel: "Oswal."

Oswal: "Yes. Come here, miss."

Mr. Gabriel gave orders while looking at me.

Then a man named Oswal approached me.

MC: "Don't come near me....!"

Stephen: ".....Is that what you call 'justice'? Searching civilians' houses?"

Gabriel: "It takes a lot of heavy-handedness to do the right thing, sometimes."

With me in between, the mafia bosses glared at each other.

Stephen: "I was on my way to get the jewel...."

Stephen: "But, shall we end this long-running feud now?"

Gabriel: "Haa....sure, why not? We're going to win anyways."

Stephen: "Keep saying that. I'll make you regret your words."

Gabriel: "Sure sure.....keep dreaming."

Mr. Gabriel also looked ready to fight Mr. Stephen's provocation.

Marcus: "Boss, I'm always ready to go!"

Berhard: ".....I let you get away with it earlier, but I'm going to get you this time."

Mikhail: "Where does your confidence come from, Berhard?"

Raphael: "You're so belligerent. I don't really care either way to be honest."

Oswal: "....Stephen had made it harder for us to get close to her."

The story starts progressing in a strange direction.

For them, this probably a normal thing.

(Everyone here is serious.....even if it means committing a murder)

(If that's the case, I will never give my precious brooch to them!)

(I will protect this brooch....!)

I tightly gripped the brooch inside my pocket, strongly wishing for it.

Suddenly, a strong light overflows from inside my pocket.

Stephen: "What the...!?"

Gabriel: "That light....Quick! Somebody take the brooch from her!"

At Gabriel's command, Oswal and the others extended their arms towards me.

Marcus: "That's ours...!"

Marcus and the other members of Sheol also reached out to me.

However, the light grew stronger and stronger, not only enveloping me but also my surroundings.

#otome #otome game #angels demons and jewels of love the nine cursed marks

[thousandsun]

🌹Meeting again 🌹

Warning: Alcoholism, depression, cursing.

Pairing:Chuuya x Dazai

Genre:Angst

Words:1.5k

After Dazai left the Port Mafia,Chuuya found himself falling deeper and deeper. He thought he could replace Dazai,so he tried to befriend Tachihara. They became friends,but nothing felt like Dazai. Nothing felt like his annoying remarks,like his uninspired nicknames,like their childish arguments.

Once again,Chuuya tried to replace Dazai with something else. He grew closer to his addiction, alcohol. Every night would be just him and a bottle of wine. For a while,the alcohol satisfied him enough. The lonely feeling seemed to stop,the feeling of betrayal too. But nothing lasts forever, right?

On the other hand,Dazai tried to stay away as much as he could. Yet he spent many sleepless nights thinking about his old partner. He quickly realized that,the ginger boy is now more prone to alcoholism. Dazai knows Chuuya better than he knows himself. That's just what many years of friendship did to him.

After all,that shorty wasn't that bad. Even if it took a while to accept this,Dazai knows it,he cares about Chuuya more than he should.

Today,the detective arrived tired from work. Kunikida really overworked him today.

Another night,another attempt to sleep. Dazai knows he can't continue this way. He does not want to see Mori again,but he wants to see Chuuya one last time. Just one last time. Perhaps that would finally make him feel at peace.

He gets up from the bed changing his sleep wear into something more appropriate for their meeting. He grabs his phone and quickly leaves his apartment.

The moon seems to be following him as he makes his way into the Port Mafia unnoticed. Not surprising since he knows this place better than anyone. He picklocks Chuuya's door with a hair pin,just like in a movie. He enters his room carefully,on his tip toes, looking around for his old partner.

The smell of alcohol hits Dazai, intoxicating his nostrils with the harsh scent.

Chuuya is on his bed with his back turned to Dazai. It would be impossible to know someone entered his room.

Dazai grabs a hat from a bedside. The hat of his partner. The hat that he has seen everyday for years. The hat he once stole to make fun of Chuuya. It wakes up lots of memories, doesn't it? An ordinary object can make a simple man shed a few tears. Isn't it interesting how our minds work?Dazai smiles a little.

"Dazai?" He suddenly hears. He freezes realizing Chuuya noticed him. As he glances at the ginger,he acknowledges that the man in front of him is drunk.

"What are ya doing here, mackerel?" Chuuya leans closer to him. His legs are like gelatine. He can't even stay still due to how drunk he is.

"What happened to you?!" Dazai says, ignoring his question. He takes a look around, finally realizing how unorganized his room is. There are clothes everywhere, empty bottles of wine on the floor, cigarette butts,and ripped old photographs of him and Chuuya. He must admit,this is way worse than he expected.

"What do you mean,you jerk? Everything is alright. Stop asking stupid questions." As much as Chuuya would want to hug him tight and never let him go again,he doesn't. He hides his current feelings. This jerk doesn't deserve his tears.

"I know that's not the truth." Dazai gazes at him with a concerned look. "It's me, isn't it? I am at fault for this, right?"

Chuuya tries to take a step closer to him but he ends up falling. "Fuck." He tries to get up. He got too dizzy due to the alcohol he consumed. "You aren't that important. Don't you think you can do anything to me." His tone is cold and rough.

Dazai gets even more concerned. He offers him his hand to help him get up."Let me help you." The ginger just growls at him finally getting up on his own.

"Look,I know I messed up,but you can't keep doing this to yourself." Chuuya knows he is right. He can't keep drinking like this just because Dazai left. Yet he doesn't want to admit it.

"You have no right to tell me all of this" His reply hits Dazai like a sharpened knife. He really doesn't have that right,does he? However,that doesn't stop him from still telling him.

"You know what? I miss you too! I miss you so damn much. But I am not acting the way you do." Dazai says. His voice masks his pain,but his eyes show his true feelings.

"Dazai, you're a goddamn hypocrite." He leans closer to the concerned detective. "Why are you even here? Leave me the fuck alone." His words are said with a harsh tone. One that can't help but hurt Dazai.

"I-..." He tries to respond. No word comes out of his mouth. He just stays there trying to find his words.

Unexpectedly,Chuuya falls again. This time Dazai catches him in his arms. "Careful now" He finally says.

Chuuya's gaze is locked in his eyes. The room is covered in darkness, however the moon is again on Dazai's side. The moonlight falls upon his face highlighting his face features.

"I want to talk to you sober. Let's take you to the bathroom. A cold shower will sure help" He carries Chuuya in his arms to the bathroom. Chuuya struggles against Dazai's grip, his drunkenness making him clumsy and uncoordinated. That doesn't bother Dazai at all. He knows the man he's carrying is too drunk to have enough strength. He enters the bathroom, slowly putting him into the bathtub letting the cold water run all over his body. Chuuya flinches at the sudden touch of the water, his drunkenness momentarily forgotten in the face of the shock.

"The fuck did you do that?!" He sounds more like his true self now. In his eyes, there's a hint of gratitude.

"So we can talk normally" He closes the shower, getting up to grab a towel for him.

Chuuya prefers ignoring him for now. He is definitely not in the mood for a conversation with Dazai right now.

"Look,I came back because I care. I came because I was worried" Dazai handed him the towel along with some clothes he found in the ginger's room. "I thought something like this might happen."

"Then why did you even leave in the first place?!" Chuuya snaps. His voice suddenly became louder.

"Because of him." He immediately replies. "All for his last wish." The brunette gives the man in front of him a sad smile. That makes Chuuya pause and think,then he finally realizes. Odasaku recently died. Dazai must have promised him something related to his disappearance.

His finally got an answer, therefore he should feel better, right? Not really. This only got him wondering why Odasaku was more important than him. Since Dazai had foreseen the outcome of his actions,he must have decided he is less important. This hit him right in the heart.

Chuuya cares about Dazai deeply. His words only convinced him that he isn't worthy of his love. "Fuck you,Dazai!" Dazai sighs giving Chuuya a disappointed look,as if he expected him to react differently. After Chuuya changed, Dazai carried him in his room. He carefully places Chuuya on his bed wrapping him in a blanket. "Do you feel alright?"

"Emotionally? Obviously no." He rolls his eyes at Dazai's question.

"I meant,do you need a painkiller or something? You might be having a headache." Somehow, Chuuya's response reminded him of himself. This was usually the way a conversation with Mori and him would go.

"As if I'll ever accept your help,jerk." His words were sharp,but his body language was enough for Dazai to understand. He immediately brought him a glass of water and a painkiller.

"I know what you said,but this is in case you might need them." His words were carefully chosen to make Chuuya as less irritated as possible and it worked. Chuuya just nod in response.

"I...I want you to know I am sorry.I know you'll never forgive me,and you don't need to." He is nervously playing with his bandages while talking. "I've been thinking about you so much...So much that it kept me awake at night." Dazai is transparent about his experience,even if he knows the ginger might not believe him.

"There's one last thing I have to ask you. A favor." Dazai once again speaks.

"A favor? I'll never do shit for you. Especially after what you did" Chuuya is truly irritated now.

"Take care of yourself. That's all I want to ask." The brunette's voice is trembling. That raises a lot of questions in Chuuya's mind. "Just promise me,ok?" He adds.

"Fine.I promise" The ginger finally agrees. He knows this might make him drink and smoke less,but a promise is a promise.

A sign of relief can be seen in Dazai's eyes. "I just... Can't lose you like I lost Odasaku" He felt a sharp pain in his chest just imagining.

Chuuya immediately notices that something is wrong,but decides to shut up. It shouldn't concern him.

"Time's up." He says looking at the watch on his hand. It's indicating that it's almost morning. "Thank you for letting me stay. Goodbye." Dazai leaves not letting Chuuya even say goodbye to him too.

Was this really their last meeting?

#anime #bsd akutagawa #bsd atsushi #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #bsd #sigma bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #bungou stray dogs chuuya #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x chuuya #chuuya nakahara #akutagawa ryuunosuke #atsushi nakajima #decay of angels #bsd nikolai #nikolai gogol #soukouku #shin soukoku #bungo stray dogs akutagawa #gin akutagawa #atsushi x akutagawa #dazai x reader #dazai osamu #chuuya x reader #yosano akiko #port mafia #mori ogai #armed detective agency

[ronaldofandom]

I got you!

RamBheem drabble. No warnings.

Ram gets Bheem ready for the party and teaches him how to dance :)

Bheem knew the clothes were expensive. And were supposed to be stylish, rather classy. But they felt so foreign, so alien that he couldn’t stop pulling and tugging at them.

‘Anna - why are these pants so tight? And these strings too? I don’t have to pull something with my back using these, so what’s the point of it?’

Bheem fiddled with the suspenders over his shirt, trying to loosen them.

‘Bheem - if you want to go to the party and not stick out, you have to wear these. I don’t like them too much either but after a bit you will get used to it. Just stop pulling everything now - you will ruin the creases.’

Ram slapped Bheem’s hands away from the clothes. Bheem huffed, but obliged.

As Ram helped groom Bheem’s hair and beard, the befuddled man threw a barrage of questions at him.

‘Anna - what will do at the party though? We don’t know anyone there.’

Ram didn’t bother to correct him that he would know quite a few people there, especially some officers. It’s a different thing he would rather puke than spend an afternoon in their company.

‘Why do you need to know everyone? Just stay with her; that’s why you are going, right?’

Bheem gave a solemn ‘hmm,’ which Ram couldn’t grasp the full meaning of, so he wrote it off as nervousness.

‘Don’t worry, it will be fine. She seems like a nice person. And she seems fond of you.’

This time Bheem smiled, and Ram smiled back.

Bheem couldn’t deny that she was nice. He knew it in his heart the moment he laid eyes on her. She had no reason to save Jangu the way she did, other than kindness.

And well, she was pretty. So pretty. Bheem wasn’t blind to that. But he had no idea how to speak to her or handle himself around her. And how to breach the topic of going inside the palace.

He voiced part of his concerns out loud. Ram held his shoulders fondly.

‘Oh my sweet friend - you are so oblivious to your charm. Trust me, you have nothing to worry about. Anyone with a good heart can see the goodness in yours. And anyone with well-functioning eyes won’t be able to resist this handsome face and breathtaking smile.’

Bheem blushed wildly. Pushing at Ram’s chest in protest, accusing him of lying. They jostled weakly, all in jest.

‘Ok, some important things. There maybe some mean people there who may say some mean things. Ignore them, they are pathetic insects. Also, you may not like most of the food there but some things are nice. The desserts especially - I have a feeling you will love them. I have never seen you not drool over anything with sugar in it. Stay by my side when we get to the food section, I will tell you what all to try.’

Bheem’s mood became markedly better. He held on to Ram’s arm.

‘Can’t wait to try them all. AND I am not leaving your side Anna, not for a second. You stay with me at all times, please.’

Ram smiled at him fondly, with a hint of suggestion in it.

‘Well, I can’t stay with you at all times, right? It kind of defeats the purpose of why you are going.’

‘But why? The three of us can be together too. Promise me you won’t leave.’

Ram crossed two fingers behind his back before lying to his innocent friend.

‘Ok I promise. Happy now?’

Bheem beamed at him in response.

‘Now, the most important thing. There is going to be dancing there. Not our kind of dance but a foreign dance. Do you want to learn a few steps, just in case it comes to that?’

Bheem nodded approvingly, admiring how worldly-wise his cherished friend was.

Ram led Bheem to the centre of the room, to a small space on the floor not covered with books.

It felt a bit awkward but it needed to be done. So, Ram stood toe to toe with Bheem, taking the younger man by surprise. He kept Bheem’s hand on his own waist, taking him by even more surprise.

‘What kind of a dance is this, Anna?’

Bheem looked quizzically at Ram.

‘It is strange, yes. But that’s how it is. Now, hold my other hand to the side, like this.’

Bheem did as instructed, still a bit conscious of the position.

‘Good. Now - how close you stand to your partner depends on how….umm…close you are in real life. I would recommend you stand at least this much apart, and leave the rest to her.’

Bheem nodded, suddenly conscious for a different reason now. The blush around his ears was coming back.

Ram started moving his feet and Bheem followed effortlessly. Ram looked at him with pride - the man really was a natural.

Just the next second, Bheem stepped on Ram’s toe and Ram yelled for dear life.

‘Annaaaaaa - I am so so sorry. Damnit I am so clumsy. Sorry - did I hurt you bad?’

Ram chose not to state how he was feeling - as if a bull had stomped on his foot. But he smiled bravely.

‘It’s a tiny scrape, I am fine now. It was my fault actually - both of us were trying to lead so we collided. Plus, I am a little rusty. Don’t worry, she will be a better partner because she would be a pro at this. She will take care of you.’

Bheem was sufficiently reassured.

‘So, I wasn’t too bad then? I won’t make a fool of myself? I don’t want to embarrass myself, Anna. Or embarrass you, since I am dragging you along.’

‘Shush. Stop thinking such things. She will be so happy to see you all dressed up like this that she will forget about everything else. I bet she will come straight to you when she sees you, leaving behind all the other proficient partners.’

‘Oh Anna - you flatter me too much. Why are you so sweet to me? Why do you do all this for me?’

Because you are the best and the purest thing that has happened to me in years, said Ram inwardly.

‘Because you are my brother. And that’s what brothers do for each other, my dear.’

Bheem crushed him with a hug, but it felt like the gentlest of feathery blankets wrapped around him. 

‘Ok ok. We must hurry now. We are late - the party has already started. All the food is waiting for you. And most importantly, she would be waiting for you with bated breath.’

Bheem let go of him then. Ram took one last look at his friend, applying final touches to his hair.

‘Ready?’

Bheem nodded in excitement; he was looking forward to this now.

‘Ready, Anna. With you by my side, I can do anything. I know you won’t let any harm come to me.’

Ram pretended to smile, hiding how his throat choked at Bheem’s unfiltered display of trust and love. And the two men left for the party.

.......................................................

That was written in one hour - coz the scene was stuck in my mind since morning. Hope you liked it :)

@irisesforyoureyes @rambheem-is-real @thewinchestergirl1208 @eremin0109 @eenadu-varthalu @rorapostsbl @yehsahihai @budugu @maraudersbitchesassemble @justmeand-myinsight @rambheemisgoated @rosayounan @jrntrtitties @obsessedtoafault @rambheemlove @jjwolfesworld @alikokinav @iam-siriuslysher-lokid @bromance-minus-the-b @dumdaradumdaradum @lovingperfectionwonderland @annieginny @chaanv @ssabriel @milla984 @kaagazkefool @boochhaan @mesimpleone @filesbeorganized @ladydarkey @teddybat24 @stanleykubricks @burningsheepcrown @veteran-fanperson @ronika-writes-stuff @beingmes-blog @yonderghostshistories @nisreenart @chaidrivenwhore @bheemaxrama @carminavulcana @umbrulla @mizutaama @rosefulmadness @gifseafins @fangirlshrewt97 @astrafangs @voidsteffy @sada-siva-sanyaasi

#rrr #bheem #ntr jr #jr ntr #love #tarak #bheem rrr #komuram bheem #charan #rrr fanfic #rambheem #bheemjenny #charak #jenny #ram