#AT LEAST NOTHING NEAR AS BAD AS WHAT THE GENERAL DID

[empressofthesunwriter]

Change the Narrative

If people knew the truth, they would call her a selfish monster.

But Katara had sacrificed anything for the world, for an ungrateful husband!

This time she would always choose herself first!

Here is a little one-shot of my anger about what happened to Katara in canon.

I want to give her the end she deserves, so I hope you enjoy it!

Katara knew it was time for her to die.

She felt it in her old bones.

Alone she lay in her bed at the South Pole and watched how the snow was falling.

At least she would die seeing the beauty of her homeland.

It was a good death.

The old woman blinked tears away and tried to be positive about her nearing death.

She would see Sokka, her father, her mother and Gran-Gran again.

It was good.

She had lived a long happy life.

Something burning and unsettling spread through her chest as she thought this.

Was it a happy life?

How often did she and Aang argue over simple things?

How often did she beg him not to play favourites with Tenzin? Yes, their youngest was an airbender, but what about Bumi and Kya? They were his children too.

But no!

The Air Nomad legacy was more important than their two oldest children and their pain.

Once upon a time when she was a young girl and fantasized about the man and family one day she would have, she never would have guessed how she became the kind of mother, who didn't fight for her children.

Who didn't call out her husband for his wrongdoings?

However, she had so with Aang. Since she had met him, she always had mothered him, shielded him from things which didn't fit his narrative.

He was the Avatar, the only hope to end the war, with a track record of running away.

They couldn't lose him, so she had protected him the best she could.

And she did so to her children.

No wonder Bumi and Kya didn't even visit her and Tenzin didn't have much of a relationship with her.

Where did she go wrong in her life?

When did she become a shadow of herself in the name of love?

Why did she even choose Aang?

Was it because of Aunt Wu's prediction, she would marry a powerful bender or because she had a feeling Aang...deserved her?

He loved her and had ended the war.

Was it so bad to give him a chance?

Sadly after sacrificing her best years for him and being rewarded to die alone without her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren around her, it may have been the most stupid decision she ever made.

Spirits, was she a bad person to think that?

She loved her family, really she did, but deep down she had to admit...she wouldn't do it a second time.

Katara wouldn't sacrifice herself, her ideals, and her dreams for Aang's dream.

She had her whole life given and given and was now at the end of it rewarded with nothing.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, as she slowly closed her eyes.

Soon she would join her loved ones...

Just...

If she could...

If the spirits were so kind...

If dear Yue heard her...

She wanted a second chance.

She wanted to live a life for herself and herself alone.

Katara had given in this life all and more...was it so bad that she wished for a second chance to get it this time right?

Was she selfish?

Maybe.

Surely.

But anyone had a point in their life where they had to put themselves first.

Her only regret was that she did not realise it sooner.

Katara closed her eyes and felt the last beats of her heart.

Never noting how the moon was shining brightly down at her...

***

She felt pain in her head.

Katara hissed and touched her forehead.

Why did she get a headache?

Where was she?

She blinked to banish the shadows before her eyes.

Slowly she could see.

Ah yes.

She was outside General Iroh's tea shop in Ba Sing Se.

The waterbender had seen Aang walk out and wanted to join him.

It was high time that she gave Aang her answer about them being a couple.

She had been unsure a few days ago, but now with the war over...why shouldn't she give him a chance?

He was standing at the balustrade watching the setting sun, it was the perfect moment.

As the waterbender made her first step towards him, an avalanche of emotions and vision filled her whole being.

Katara gasped quietly, trying to make sense of this.

It was too fast and also too slow...however, she felt it in her bones...whatever she had planned kissing Aang and getting together with him...it would be the worst decision of her life!

No, she didn't want what she had seen.

How could she sell herself, her principals, and her honour for a guy?!

How could she be together with someone who would play favourites with their children?!

No, absolutely not!

Whether this was a vision from the future to save her from this faith Katara didn't know, but what she knew she wouldn't make the same mistakes twice!

So angry she walked up to Aang and tapped his shoulder.

The Avatar turned smiling towards her. He seemed so happy and hopeful and looked at her like she had hung the stars and the moon.

For a second she flatter, which only made the vision come forth again and made her anger tenfold.

Oh no!

Not with her!

"Aang.", she began. "I don't love you and I never will! Stop pestering me about us being a couple! If you don't accept my feelings I will waterwhip you do your next incarnation, do you understand me?!"

To say he was shocked was the understatement of the century. She could formally see the heartbreak in his eyes and how he tried to speak up, maybe to guilt trip her, however, she wasn't having anything of it.

"Nothing you will say and do will ever change my mind! So don't even try. I will go back with Sokka to the South Pole and rebuild my home. That's where I belong!"

Dramatically she turned around and entered the tea shop again.

The others tried their hardest to seem like they hadn't listened in, yet Katara saw through them.

She sends them all an annoyed look.

"What?!"

No one said anything for a few seconds before Toph snickered: "Oh sugar queen, I hoped you had it in you."

This makes Katara smile.

***

The next months of her life Katara rebuilt with her father and Sokka their home. 

The Nothern Watertribe had tried to turn the South into a second North, except Katara was having none of it.

As a war hero, master waterbender and daughter of the chief she used all her power to stop this chances.

She was a force of nature!

No one had a chance against her.

Her family was so proud of her and she was satisfied with herself.

Yes, this was where she belonged.

Helping people and not being the soulless, passionless arm candy of Aang!

Katara was happy.

A voice inside her told her how she deserved it.

***

A year later found Katara as ambassador for her people at the first peace summit.

She was happy seeing Zuko again, they had written to each other, yet seeing each other in person was much better.

He had become her best friend.

And her wall against Aang.

As Avatar he was at the peace summit too. Of course, he tried to talk with her. Tried to sway her, saying he missed her and wanted to be friends again.

She saw right through him. Aang still wanted her.

Thank the spirits for Zuko having her back and distracting Aang.

When they enjoyed together a cup of tea in General Iroh's tea shop she thanked him for his help.

Awkwardly he waved it away.

It was nothing.

He and Mai had broken up and the black-haired girl wasn't happy about it.

Even if she and Aang weren't exes, Zuko knew how frustrating it was to have a person follow you like a shadow and demand to be together again.

In comfort, she petted Zuko's hand and told him he did the right thing to end things with Mai.

If she couldn't accept a no was she a good girlfriend?

A little crooked smile formed on Zuko's lips, and her heart stopped for a second, as he thanked her for her words and friendships.

Then he asked her to join him in the search for his mother.

***

Being with Zuko on a life-changing field trip again was... exciting.

They still worked flawlessly together, like when they had hunted down the murder of her mother, but now they were friends.

It changed a lot of interactions.

They were playful with each other.

Zuko was the only one who ever laughed at her jokes.

They were there for each other.

In the long days when they hunted down one clue after another and Zuko seemed to lose hope, Katara reminded him to never give up.

They shared the workload.

It was amazing not mothering someone and having someone help her around camp.

They were getting closer to each other.

They shared things they never told anyone.

Zuko told her how he got his scar and Katara hugged him, wishing Aang had killed Ozai.

Wishing Ozai was before her and making him pay for hurting her best friend!

Sometimes they just stared at the stars, inventing constellations, their hands inching closer.

Something new was born between them.

Katara didn't know what it was, but she would enjoy it.

It made her feel good.

After weeks on the road, they finally found Ursa.

And also a society of hiding airbenders.

Katara couldn't help but laugh in utter glee.

***

Was it really that surprising that Katara and Zuko fell in love with each other after their journey?

When she kissed Zuko for the first time, it was like coming home. 

Warm, welcome, familair, intim.

It was the best sensation in the world.

Something inside her told her this was how it was supposed to be.

After two years of dating and being the ambassador of the Southern Water Tribe in the Fire Nation, they married.

All their friends and half of the world were invited.

Yes, even Aang.

Aang was so grateful to Katara and Zuko for having found his people and was busy with the air nomads to rebuild their society, and seemed to finally let go of Katara.

Now they really could be friends.

***

Katara of the Southern Water Tribe, master bender, war hero and Fire Lady became a living legend.

Not only the people in the Fire Nation adored her, but she used the power she wielded to make the whole world a better place.

She was the one who came up with the idea of Republic City, a place where all nations could live in harmony.

She revolutionized the art of healing with her bloodbending.

She installed fountains and aqueducts everywhere she could, so people had clean water.

Statues were built and universities, streets even neighbourhoods were named in her honour.

Katara taught new generations of waterbenders like her daughter Kya and people formally fought over to learn from the Fire Lady.

When their oldest daughter Izumi became Fire Lady, Katara and Zuko retired to Ember Island to live out their twilight years in peace.

They often had visits from their friends and families.

Their son Lu Ten, a nonbender, had married a waterbender named Mizuki and had with her five children.

So the proud grandparents helped their son and daughter-in-law raise the rascals.

It was fulfilling.

As Aang then died and was reborn as Korra from the Southern Water Tribe Katara and Zuko moved to the South to teach the new Avatar.

Korra loved Katara and Zuko like grandparents and loved hearing about their adventures.

After Korra goes to Republic City to learn airbending from one of Aang's sons he had with one of the hiding airbenders, the pair returns to Ember Island.

Zuko died a few months before her.

Katara followed him after the birth of their third great-grandchild.

Both died surrounded by their big and bustling family.

As Katara died, her oldest great-granddaughter, who was named after her held her hand, she couldn't help but feel happy.

She had lived a long and wonderful life.

Soon she would be together again with her beloved husband and her family.

And so the greatest and most beloved Fire Lady died in peace with no regrets in her heart, her story being told for thousands of years to come.

***

The Legend of Katara became a tale which young girls loved.

From a simple waterbender to a master, war hero and ruler over a nation, who changed the world only a few ever could.

It showed all girls, that they could do anything they wanted.

They could reach their goals and go even beyond.

This was Katara's legacy.

As it should have been.

If you liked this one-shot and want more Zutara, a badass OC, personal growth for Aang and the Gaang being amazing check out Yin and Yang! 

Click on my profile and leave a comment.

I hope you liked this little One-Shot!

Let’s now scream together in the comment section how Katara deserved better and if it’s not canon we will give it to her in fanon! :D

#katara #atla katara #avatar the last airbender #atla #zuko #atla zuko #prince zuko #atla zutara #zutara #zutarian #katara deserved better #zuko x katara #katara x zuko #zutara fanfiction #zutara fic #zutara forever #anti bryke #anti kataang #anti maiko #bryke critical

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Wrongful Imprisonment

Male Alpha Yandere Prisoner x Omega Male Reader CW: Noncon, imprisonment, prison setting, knotting, mating cycles, a/b/o, rut/heat, knotting, size difference, ass eaten like it's groceries, general yandere behavior Word Count: 2k (Sorry this took so long.)

You never thought you would find yourself in prison. But there you were. Locked away in a minimum security facility.

You were innocent. When your home was raided you had no idea there were drugs there. Your boyfriend at the time had put all the blame on you to escape punishment.

What's worse was that you were an omega sentenced to a mixed facility full of alphas. Since male omegas were so rare no one bothered to make separate facilities for them.

They forcefully drugged away your heats to the best of their ability but the meds had side effects on your mood and gave you dizzy spells. And they weren't perfect. Even without a heat a faint scent of omega peaked through. During heats it was a bit more pronounced.

To some of the alphas who had been there for years it was enough to get their interest. And they were not men whose interest you wanted.

It was terrifying. The cells had no doors so you were in constant fear that you'd wake up with a rapist over you.

The guards were no help. You did your best to avoid all of the alphas of ill intent for as long as you could manage it, but one time you were cornered.

They had followed you in from the yard and crept up behind you. You flailed, scratched, and bit but they didn't take your struggles well and beat you until you stopped fighting.

You could hear them snickering as one slammed his knee into your gut before giving you two brutal punches to the face. You doubled over in pain, your nose bloody and tears cascading down your swollen face.

"Just be a good cock sleeve and stay still"

You felt your pants being yanked down to your knees.

"Look at how tight it's pussy is!"

You prepared for the worst, unable to eek out any pleas over your ragged sobs of hurt and fear.

But the worst never happened. Instead you heard growling followed by hisses and cries of pain.

Your pants were pulled up and you were helped onto your shaky feet.

In front of you stood a sweaty mountain of a man. He was about your age. Tan skin and red hair. All muscle. Probably spent every free moment lifting weights.

Which wasn't really true. Lately he also spent a lot of time watching you from a distance. Trying to get to know the one who's scent called to him so strongly despite the suppressants.

"Th-tha-th-" You tried to mutter a thanks, but your assault and near rate had sent you into a full panic attack.

"Shhh, don't try to talk. It's okay."

His green eyes stared into yours as he inspected your facial injuries. Nothing was broken.

He gently led you back to his doorless cell. The cells had a lot of traffic. You were a bit nervous but you were more scared to be alone and if he had wanted to hurt you he could have.

At least, that's what you had thought. Though you were completely unaware of how badly he wanted to bend you over and fill your body full of his seed. Unlike the brutes from before though he at least wanted you to moan and cling to him while he did it.

He introduced himself and you managed to return the courtesy once your sobs had lessened.

His name was Lance.

And over the months you spent in prison the two of you had become very close.

He kept you within his sight at all times and made sure you were safe. The two of you even managed to have it arranged where you could share the same cell so he could protect you at night and prevent you from getting a bad roommate.

Lance also rubbed all your clothes every morning on him so they had his scent to keep you safe.

The alpha even had the idea to give you a claiming bite just to make sure no one would try anything.

You allowed him to do so, you didn't think it meant anything. In fact, he had reassured you that it hadn't. It was just another measure to protect you.

Of course that wasn't how the alpha saw it at all. Even though he hadn't bed you he considered you his mate. And really, if anything, the fact you were so naïve about it only proved that he was taking the correct course of action.

You were too trusting and soft. That's how you had ended up there in the first place. That's why those vermin tried to get their unworthy hands on you.

You were his mate. Even if you didn't know it yet. You needed him.

And he needed you too. Your scent and personality drove him to keep you safe. So kind. A perfect mate for him. You were the only light in his otherwise miserable existence. To say that you were as essential as oxygen to him would be an understatement.

And after he saved you from those lesser alphas his instincts screamed that he owned you. He had won you in a physical contest.

The alpha just had to calm himself down and be patient. He would get you gradually. He was confident he was almost there.

Until you got the news that you were being released early because new evidence had come to light.

Lance feigned joy at the news.

"I am glad... a place like this really isn't for a person like you..."

"Yeah! And now I won't have to be such a burden to you anymore either! Thanks for helping me so much Lance, you're a great friend. I'll miss you."

Inwardly Lance wanted to go on a rampage. His mate was being taken away from him! He wouldn't be able to protect you. Someone might try to hurt you and touch you with hands unworthy of your skin.

The mere thought filled him with unbridled anger.

Lance knew what he had to do.

/////////

It had been just a couple months since your release and you were adjusting about as well as could be expected for someone in your situation.

You had been money from a settlement for being falsely imprisoned so finances weren't an issue. But you had no friends on the outside anymore. You had nothing to do.

And the ptsd from over a year of living like an animal was immense.

The hardest thing to adjust to, at least physically, was no longer being on industrial strength suppressants. And the very strong heats that accompanied that change.

It was during one such extreme heat that Lance broke out of prison and was making his way up the hill right towards your secluded home. He could smell you from far off.

He was in rut. He had not seen his omega in months. And he could smell your heat.

The alpha was coming for you... and very soon... he would be cumming in you.

When he came upon your home he noticed the window was open. You were so careless! Just letting your damn heat scent drift out and attract any piece of shit alpha right to your open window!! You were really fucking lucky you had such a dedicated mate like him though. So loyal that he broke through prison to take care of you.

He watched you for a minute through your open window. Poor little omega. Writhing in your empty nest. No alpha scent to soothe you. Your nude form hot and sweaty, jerking your cock and bucking your hips fervently, a puddle of slick staining your blankets. And the smell was insane, practically screaming for someone to slide in you.

But fate had provided you with a strong lover that was going to fuck all your frustrations right away.

As he stepped through your window your eyes snapped to him immediately, his musky smell grabbing your attention. “L-lance? B-but…”

“I got out for you. Now I can help you and we can be together.” His voice was low and raspy. Almost animalistic.

You recoiled in fear of him and fell out of your bed.

Lance was hurt that his precious lover was scared of him, but he understood. Past lovrs had hurt you and other alphas had tried to rape you very violently. But that’s not what he would do. He was going to keep you safe. Take care of your needs.

“You n-need to leave Lance.”

It was so hard to think clearly. Your body was on fire and his smell was so comforting even though you didn’t want his knot in you. He was still an attractive alpha who you had been close to and your body wanted to be closer. And he could smell it.

“No. I need to breed my husband.”

“Lance, y-you’re not my-”

He stood over you and picked you up easily, putting you back into your nest. He knelt beside it so that his head was right by your ass that was hanging off. He positioned your legs on his shoulders and inhaled deeply.

The scent you were giving off was too captivating, especially there, he could no longer even process your words. He tenderly nuzzled his nose beneath your balls, drinking in the scent and kissing each of your nuts gently before focusing his attention on your needy, slick-leaking hole.

He stared at it in awe for a moment, like a dragon appraising his most precious treasure.

Lance slid his tongue right in and began wriggling it to get at every inch he could reach, reveling in the needy sounds you made between your flustered protests. He kissed it and removed his lips, a small string of drool and slick briefly connecting your hole with his lips.

The alpha then flipped you on to your belly and climbed into the nest with you after discarding his pants and underwear, he took off his sweaty shirt and laid it under your head so you could enjoy his scent while he bred you. He put your head down and kept your ass up. You would have protested, but you couldn’t stay in your right mind any longer.

Not after the tongue fucking he had given you, not with his scent so concentrated with your face pressed into it.

You gripped his shirt and pressed it closer to you, trying to inhale the musk as much as you possibly could. His heart leapt at the sight of it all. His little omega was presenting so nicely for him all while drowning so willingly in his smell.

He gripped your hips firmly, but still careful not to hurt you as he sank his cock into you deeply.

Lance gasped as the wet heat engulfed his entire length. You fit over him so well. There was not a fraction of a doubt in his mind, you were made just for him.

You moaned and drooled into the shirt your loving mate had provided as his flesh smacked against yours. Faster and faster he slammed into you with your slutty noises driving him on until his knot swelled and his cum was pumped into you.

The alpha renewed that claiming bite he had given you as the two of you became tied together and while licking your fresh wound he lightly humped into you until you came hard as well. He caged your body with his and held you tightly to him as you both panted and waited for the knot to go down.

As your mind temporarily cleared you were aware that this was not something you wanted.

But it wasn’t something that you could fight either.

After everything you had been through you were still just a prisoner.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere boyfriend #male reader #x male reader #yandere x male reader #yandere a/b/o #yandere alpha #yandere omegaverse #My OCs #My OC Lance

[lazycats-stuff]

Can I request a batfamily x male reader where reader is the youngest member(just a few months or so younger than Damien) and brings home a tiger he’s somehow managed to tame and is trying to convince his family to let him keep it?

This is something that Damian would do too.

Summary: (Y/N) brings a tiger to the manor. Family is shocked to say the least.

Warnings:

Bruce noticed something about his youngest son. Damian and (Y/N) shared the same love for animals and that was something that made Damian bond over. But there was now something off about his youngest son.

Every time Alfred bought some meat, it went missing. And (Y/N) was always near the barn on the property, just spending time there. Bruce thought nothing over that, maybe he was playing with Titus. But why was meat going missing then?

He asked Damian about it, but Damian had no idea. Titus may have been on a raw diet, but there was meat specifically for him, bagged and dated on a shelf. So that left Bruce scratching his head. Where was the meat going? And what was in the barn?

Well, the truth was a little bit different. (Y/N) was responsible for the disappearance of meat, but for a very important reason. And maybe a bad reason for Bruce, but (Y/N) had no choice.

The tiger from the Zoo escaped and somehow ended up on the Wayne property. So what did (Y/N) do? He somehow tamed the tiger and named it King

Tiger made it's home in the barn, happy to be here. It took a while for (Y/N) to tame him, but it was nice to see that the tiger trusted him. He came here often, always destressing from the patrol or just from pressure in general.

There was a small problem though. A minute one.

The family didn't know that there was a tiger. Bruce would be livid about it, Damian would be excited, Tim and Jason would be that's cool and Dick would just be okay with it.

But still, there was no way to tell the reactions of his family members. He just needs to find a way to tell them without giving Bruce a heart attack. Maybe he should tell Damian first and slowly ease every single member into the news?

He sighed as he sat down on the hay, the tiger walked towards him, plopping down onto (Y/N)'s lap. He nuzzled his nose against (Y/N)'s legs. (Y/N) smiled, petting his head, feeling the soft purr. Well, it wasn't really a purr, but still. King blinked slowly, showing he appreciated it.

" Damian, what's going on with your brother? " Bruce asked Damian, sitting down at the edge of the bed. Damian shrugged his shoulders, honestly not knowing.

" I don't know father, he didn't tell me anything. "

" Do you know why he is going to the barn so often? " Bruce pressed.

" I don't know. Titus doesn't go towards the barn so... Pennyworth either. " Damian said, cleaning his blade.

" He didn't tell you anything? " Bruce still pressed.

" Nothing father. You should talk to him after dinner. " Damian suggested.

" Maybe I should. " Bruce said to himself.

" But I don't think that it's anything serious. " Damian said. (Y/N) was the most normal kid out of this entire manor so the chances of him having any type of problem that he needs to hide are low as hell.

Bruce wanted to talk to his son, but (Y/N) was quick to leave to the barn after dinner. Bruce frowned at the his son's behavior. Something was completely off.

Bruce decided to ask the others to help him talk to (Y/N). Almost like an intervention. They moved quietly to the barn, listening to the words (Y/N) was saying.

" I know, I love you too. "

Bruce has had enough of the secrecy. He opened the door and he felt his eyes widening.

" Brother is that a tiger? " Damian asked, not afraid of the animal. He moved closer, sitting down closer to not anger the tiger. It was obvious that the tiger was protective of (Y/N) and Damian allowed the big cat to sniff his hand. It grumbled and nuzzled against the palm of his hand.

" This is so cool! " Jason said, also moving closer.

" Holy shit... " Tim said, trailing off.

Dick didn't know what to say. He expected that from Damian, not from (Y/N).

" YOU BROUGHT A TIGER?! " Bruce yelled out, making the said tiger raise his head and growl.

Bruce took a deep breath to calm himself down. He pinched the bridge of his nose.

" We can't keep him. " Bruce said, way more calmer.

" Too late for that. " Dick said, still kind of speechless.

Bruce sighed, trying not to lose his mind. He expected this from Damian and not from (Y/N). My God.

" So we are keeping him father? " Damian asked, scratching the tiger's head.

Bruce sighed once more. This is the craziest thing ever.

" Apparently so. " Bruce said, clearly outnumbered by his kids.

" You will love him Bruce. " (Y/N) said, smiling.

Bruce sighed for the nth time, thinking about the fact that he will have to make a facility for the tiger. Barn is not a suitable place for this animal.

" I guess then we are going to keep him. " Bruce said, rubbing his eyes.

#dc x male reader #x male reader #dc comics #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #jason todd x male reader #batkids

[theveryworstthing]

I'm Alive

I posted this on patreon so I might as well post it again here. Hopefully current and past patrons see this as well as people who have just been generally curious about where I've been.

I'm very sorry for not being around and I'm very grateful to those who stuck around. To those who didn't, I get it and I truly appreciate you passing through. 

Last year and the beginning of this year have been pretty bad. Some of you might have heard about my grandma's death and sadly, she was just the first of the family losses in the time I've been gone. There was also a friend's death discovery, my parents' health tanking, my friends Going Through It, and my own physical/mental problems. I didn't want to talk to the internet about these things because they were/are very overwhelming and private and tbh I used all my energy to help with the household and make sure work got turned in on time. When I had spare time after dealing with the near constant disasters, I didn't really feel like interacting with the internet at all beyond using it as a way to talk to far away friends (mostly to give them the thumbs up that i was alive) or watch/read things when my brain was less scrambled. Social media was an absolute no go and I didn't have any non-work art to post so I just kind of mentally crawled under the porch to die lol. 

I only drew work related things for months due to extreme burnout and it took me almost a month off after my last job to remember how to create again. I couldn't draw or write, it was kinda like art block except it was more like nothing was there at all? It's hard to explain. 

Things are still happening but I need to get back in the saddle eventually so here I am. 

I'm going to post the little art I did in June and all the sketches I did in January when I re-learned how to draw for myself. Again, I'm so sorry for being away without saying anything and I'm grateful to whoever threw me a buck, or even just casually enjoyed my art. Leaving like I did was really irresponsible and there's no excuse for not at least making a post about all of this sooner.  Every month I got a patreon payment was another wave of guilt because I literally couldn't give y'all anything but at the same time that money was letting me book flights to funerals and keeping my mom comfortable while she recovered from surgery right after I spent a lot of my savings in 2022 trying to fight my late cat's cancer. And then not posting about what was going on made me more anxious as time went on because there was more guilt every month so I felt like I needed to come back with a bunch of art and energy and good reasons and it was just. A Mess. 

But anyway.

I'm alive, I'm back. The Horrors persist, but so do I.

Thank you for your patience.

#talkin

[gojos-thot-patrol]

HII!!! and happy birthday to you ♡♡ i love ur works sm, for ur special birthday event, could i request — ryomen sukuna, mean, " i love you, and you don't deserve that " ?? AGAIN, HAPPY BIRTHDAY AND HAVE THE BEST YEAR!! (｡>﹏<｡) feel free to change it up! you're the birthday author afterall<3

AHH these are late, but in my defense I got very drunk then had to work off the hang over lol.

that being said, thank you so much Nonny!! This is so sweet and I feel kinda bad because this one got pretty dark. Trigger warnings for Domestic abuse, non con/dub con implied, emotional abuse and manipulation, and yandere themes. you have been warned, Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.

Now Presenting...

Starring: An cold complicated Ryomen Sukuna, taking it out on a Reader that doesn't deserve it.

There were few things on this earth Sukuna found more vile than humans. Maggots, maybe, but at least maggots served a purpose- they were important to the nutrient cycling of many ecosystems. But what the fuck did human do? They destroyed with reckless abandon, conquered without a second thought, and bread like roaches to continue the destruction long after they were gone. They were creatures of hate. And maybe that’s why Sukuna couldn’t stand them. They were just a little too much like him.

That was all with one exception. Y/n was a human that challenged every thought he had about humans. She was kind and generous, but still not afraid to get her hands dirty for what she believed. She proved that much when she ran out to stop him from destroying some elders home of all fucking things. He didn’t know what was funnier, that she thought she could challenge him, with her meek frame and zero battle experience, or the look on her face when he threw her over his shoulder. 

He had planned to throw her to his hoard of underling curses and let them tear her limb from limb. A fitting punishment he thought, she wasn’t really worth his effort. When he got to the throne room, he looked down at the writhing mass of curses below the tall platform his throne sat upon. He watched them all move as one, entangled together in a breathing wet sea of shit and hunger. They needed to eat.

And then he looked at her. The way she clung to his arm, the genuine terror in her eyes. She didn’t look like she had before on the battlefield, so willing to give her life to save another. Now she looked as if her entire being was made of ice and terror, as if she’d shatter if the breeze blew the wrong way. He felt a tightness in his chest, like some otherworldly being was pulling the sinew that laid there apart, cord by cord. And he threw her into his sleeping quarters instead. 

And ever since that day all those months ago, Sukuna had been complicated. A fucking human complicated him, it was almost comical. He caught himself being vulnerable around her, and he coludn’t fucking stand it. For every quiet sweet moment they had, he had to double down with two or more acts of brutality to make himself feel better. Except, it never made him feel any fucking better, in fact it made him feel actively fucking worse. The betrayal and hurt behind your eyes always made him feel minuscule, and it only made his hate of you burn even brighter. 

It was moments like these that made his skin crawl. When your head was resting on his chest, arms wrapped around your body as best as they could be, legs still trembling in the aftermath of your shared sin. When he realized his heart was calm, and his claws didn’t crave blood in your presence. His reaction to comfort was always visceral anger. 

“Get off of me wench.” He growled, jerking his shoulder up and launching you out of your near sleep state. You looked so hurt.

“Oh, this again?” You muttered.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean, Whore?” Sukuna scoffed, unable to believe you felt comfortable enough to talk to him with such a tongue.

“Nothing.” You sighed, shaking your head and trying to turn away from him. You didn’t get very far before his talons were digging into your shoulder, forcing you to face him again.

“No no, If you’re going to say something, say it. Don’t try to take the cowardly way out now.” He warned. You shook your head, knowing better than to make eye contact right now.

“I just don’t want to fight-”

“Oh, you think this is a fight?” He laughed, “that would almost be cute if it wasn’t so pathetic.We don't fight Y/n. You forget your place, and I remind you of it. Fighting implies you to be my equal, which you never will be.” he said, his voice dripping in condescension and laced with contempt. His poison shot straight into your heart, coursing through your blood and to your tongue. You were so tired of his bull shit. 

“Oh, really?! Is that what happens?!” You laughed back to keep from crying, “Because from my view, You realize you have a heart and get so scared of it, you have to hurt someone smaller than you to feel like a man aga-!” Yea, you weren’t shocked when he struck you. You held your face, knowing there would be a bruise you could take fingerprints off of forming. You’d long since become used to his treatment. He grabbed you by your hair, yanking you to look at him. You could feel individual follicles being pulled from their roots as he raised you off the bed, as he drank in your scream as if it was the finest of wine. 

“Listen here Brat,” Ryomen always had a way of making even the most mundane words cut into your soul, “You’d do well to remember who the fuck you are talking to when you speak to me. I am not your friend, I am not your lover, you are fucking nothing to me. You’re less than nothing to me. Wrong me a-fucking-gain and your villiage won’t stop finding pieces of your body.” He snarled, throwing you off the bed. 

You braced for impact, but that still didn’t stop the collision from sending sharp waves of anguish through your already bruised ribs. You took in a sharp breath and tried to keep the tears swelling in your eyes from spilling over. He wanted you to cry. You wouldn't give him that satisfaction. You got to your hands and knees as quickly as your body would let you, then sat up as best as you could.

“Do you know what your problem is Sukuna?” You mumbled from the floor. He raised an eyebrow at you, genuinely shocked you had more to say after that. Normally, physical violence shut you up pretty quick. 

“And what is that Y/n?” He asked. You took an edge breath in.

“Your problem is that you don’t want to keep being a warlord. You’re tired of it, it bores you, you want to do something else. You found something that only makes that feeling stronger. And you can’t stand it! Because you don’t know who you are. You have no idea who Ryomen Sukuna is without the power and the blood thirst, and that fucking terrifies you.” Sukuna didn’t even argue, and he wasn’t surprised you read him so clearly. You had always seen through him as if he was nothing more than a fragile bubble. 

“And do you know what my problem is?” You growled. You waited all of 3 seconds before responding to his silence, “My problem is that I love you. And you don’t deserve that.” A chuckle left Sukuna, but it was humorless. His eyes didn’t hold any anger or angst, he looked as if he was made of stone. He finally got up from the bed, and moved to you. He crouched down to be at your level. 

“Things are only going to get worse for you from here on out. I hope you're prepared.” he said, zero emotion making its way to his voice or eyes. He pushed you onto your back before standing up again and leaving the room. Once he was back in his own sleeping quarters, he punched a hole in his wall.

How fucking dare you tell him you loved him! Who the fuck did you think you were?! And why the fuck would you confess that after he threw you to the fucking ground? As if you were nothing more than a used cum rag! He roared as he ripped some random piece of art off the wall and smashed it against the floor, splintering the wooden frame. Your words kept echoing in his head, phantoms that wouldn’t let him rest. I love you, and you don’t deserve it.It made him sick. Because he didn’t deserve it. And because he loved you too, and you truly didn’t deserve that.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #yandere sukuna #true form sukuna #tw: toxic behavior #tw: toxic relationships #tw abuse #dead dove do not eat #sukuna angst #sukuna x reader angst #nobody likes you when you're 23

[willowser]

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds. 

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating. 

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is. 

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

#narrator voice: willow did not have the spoons to extend the ending #whoopsie #okie okie part 2 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

[ughthisisntright]

Add Some Spice | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader x Jake Seresin

Summary: In a surprise turn of events, your dear fiancé surprises you with a fantasy you'd had yet to voice to him... or so you thought.

My official submission for @sushiwriterhere threesomeissance 2023!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, threesome (mmf), p in v sex, ass play, anal, double penetration, general sexual goodness.

Word Count: 2,326

How did you even end up here?

Sweating, writhing, dripping - some fluids not even your own - and positively undone.

Even as your cunt is filled with Jake’s cock, mouth stuffed with Bradley’s, your mind can still replay the series of events that started this entire evening. What was a harmless fantasy you'd shared with a girlfriend of yours has turned into possibly the most erotic moment of your life.

Up until now, at least.

“Oh, my God!” Your friend - Alisha - cackled. “You're not serious?”

“No way!” You laughed before sipping your drink, rounding the bar at the Hard Deck to get a little closer to where Bradley stood playing pool with the guys. “I’d let each of them take their turn with me, hands down.”

“You’re filthy!” Alisha hollered, laughing at your frankness. “But…” She glanced out at the men, beginning to nod as understanding dawned on her. “Yeah, okay, I’d totally let them ping-pong me like the slutty thing I am. Or, at least, would be for them.” You playfully smacked her arm.

“That's my fiancé you're talking about,” you warned sarcastically. The two of you doubled over in giggles as you walked back to the group of aviators gathered around the pool table.

Bradley felt your warmth and slowly snaked his arm around your waist as you sidled up next to him, kissing the top of your head as he usually did. As far as you knew, the tall brunette hadn't heard a lick of what you and your friend were so brazenly daydreaming about. He sipped his beer, stared straight ahead, and his mind swam with exactly how he would pull this off for you…

-

Bradley approached Jake later that same night, the most uncomfortable look on his face that the Southern man had ever seen. Bradley’s hands fidgeted at his sides as he walked up to him at the bar, having excused himself to get another beer and using it as the perfect cover to talk. And, as he approached, Jake’s heart sank into his gut as the possible scenarios of what he was about to hear ran in his mind.

“Hey, man,” Bradley grunted. “Got a sec?”

“I dunno,” Jake turned to look at the bombshell wiggling her fingers at him in the corner. “Ah, shit, why not? What's up?”

“Got kind of a… Weird question,” he continued.

“Uh-oh, trouble in love land?” Jake drawled with a grin. “What happened?”

“Nothing! I just… I overheard her talking with Alisha and… Well,” Bradley shifted on his feet, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“Spit it out, man, I’ve got a clock here.” Jake seemed irritated already. Bradley wasn't sure if he could do this.

“She said something about… Wanting us to take turns with her. In bed,” Bradley looked like he was going to pass out. Jake stood there gaping at Bradley, searching his face for any sign of this being a joke. A cruel, sick, stupid joke. When he received no indication, he cleared his throat.

“Well,” Jake started, uneasy. “I guess… Uh, maybe you should talk to her about it?”

“Nah, see-” Bradley looked around to make sure you weren't near them. “I’m kind of down for it. Only if you are, though.”

Jake’s eyes seemed to light up at the suggestion. Was he down for it? He’s been down bad for you since he laid eyes on you, until he realized you were spoken for and stepped back. And then, when it was Bradley whom you were spoken for, it made it all that much harder.

Bradley couldn't help but draw into himself as his words hung in the air. He was sure Jake was about to laugh in his face, tell everyone, then move on. He was sure you’d be mortified that he’d overheard you. He was even more sure, though, that this would make you happy. After all, it’s nice to mix things up in the bedroom.

And then, just as Bradley was about to chuckle, clear his throat and suggest it was just a bad idea and tell Jake to forget about it, Jake’s voice cut through the agony in his head.

“I’ll do it.”

-

It was all a blur from there. Bradley approaching you, that warm, sweet smile you've loved for so many years. And hands - hands that weren't his - settling on your hips. You remember feeling anxious. But… With Bradley looking at you so sweetly, how could you resist your man?

“Heard you needed somethin’ from me, sugar,” Jake drawled against your ear. “Bradley told me everything.”

“What… What?” You breathed out the words softly, stunned.

“I heard you and Alisha, baby girl,” Bradley piped up. “Such a naughty little fantasy you shared. And so…”

“Scandalous,” Jake finished. “How could I refuse such an offer?” His hands traveled up your loose-fitting t-shirt and fingertips ghosted over the soft skin of your stomach.

Bradley walked up to you and placed a hand on the side of your neck. Looking back up at him, doe-eyed and stunned, he smirked and slid his hand down your face only to wrap it around your neck loosely.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go have some fun.”

-

So now, here you are, a mix of sweat and cum and stuffed completely full of the two aviators. The lewd sounds of skin slapping together and your own choking radiate throughout the room. You’re positively delirious with pleasure and Bradley - sweet, sweet Bradley - knows exactly what you need.

Bradley looks down at you as he fucks your mouth and runs a big hand through your hair to pull it out of your face. You open your eyes to look at him, cheeks hollowed out, sucking his painfully-hard cock. He gives you the darkest grin you’ve ever seen on his beautiful face.

“So pretty,” he growls. “So full of us. You must be on cloud fucking nine, baby girl.”

Jake’s fingers dig hard into the flesh of your hips. You’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there come morning. And you're sure Bradley will kiss them with the tender touch he always showered you with. The bruising pace Jake set behind you reminded you of the delicate way in which Bradley loves you.

And you need that reminder.

“Mnh-nh!” Your moans fall around Bradley’s cock as he tilts his head back.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans. “Feels so good when you moan for me.”

“You're sweating, Bradshaw-” Jake hisses.

“So are you,” Bradley retorts. “How's she looking?”

“So pretty,” Jake grunts and slows down a little. He leans his head forward, letting some spit dribble from his mouth. You feel it dripping down the crack of your ass and you whine around Bradley. You know where this is going.

“Gonna get prettier, darlin’,” Jake drawls. He uses his fingers to spread his spit around your ass hole. Testing the waters, he presses the pads of his fingers to the opening and pushes them in just a touch. The way you clamped around him had him seeing stars.

“Oh, pretty girl, you're squeezin’ me so hard,” he groans. He feels you loosen up and continues pushing his fingers inside you. Knuckle-deep, he chuckles in satisfaction. Your mewls around Bradley’s cock were music to his ears.

He resumes his relentless pace and his eyes snap to meet Bradley’s. Bradley looks close, he can tell by the strain of the veins in his neck. A dark grin crosses the Southern man’s face.

“Gonna cum in her filthy mouth, Bradshaw?” Jake coos. Bradley lets out a huff of air and shakes his head. “Sure looks like it. Fuck, look at you,”

Bradley looks down at his own cock stuffed in your mouth, the tears in your eyes and hears the way Jake taunts him. His lip twitches and he lets out a shattered breath.

“Fuck-hhh you- Jake!” He cries out and pulls his cock from your mouth, squirting his hot cum all over your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, thankful none of it got in them. You drool as you feel the liquid dripping down your face, moaning softly,

“Damn, Bradshaw-” Jake hisses. “You made a mess,” he feels your walls flutter around his cock and simply holds his thick fingers inside your ass. They're in deep and you can only feel pleasure.

“Shit, she looks so pretty like this.” Bradley leans his head back against the wall and looks down at you, languidly stroking his cock as he watches his release dripping off your chin. “Never painted your face before, baby, I think I’ll keep doing that.”

You moan in response and feel Jake’s cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you've never felt before with Bradley. You assume it's because of his fingers being stuffed to the knuckle inside your ass. And you'd have to convince Bradley to do the same tomorrow night.

Bradley swipes his thumb across your cheek and smirks. He brings the digit up to Jake’s mouth and feeds him the cooling fluid. Jake happily accepts his cum and stares him in the eyes, establishing some kind of dominance.

“A-Ahhhah, Jake I-I’m gonna- Fuck! I’m gonna cum-mmm!” Your babbling snaps him from his trance. He grinds against you and forces his cock impossibly deeper which sends you into a tizzy.

Bradley brings his fingers down to stroke your aching clit and just like that - they’ve got you. You clamp down around Jake’s cock as he pumps in and out of you, cumming harder than you ever have. You shriek their names, throat ripped to shreds before Bradley's lips close over yours in a bruising kiss.

Jake’s hips slam into yours harshly and you can feel him twitch inside you, spilling himself inside you violently. He grunts an animalistic sound you've never heard before and squeezes your hips in his large hands.

You're left a panting, moaning mess. Bradley’s cum still on your face, growing colder by the minute. Jake sits inside you still and Bradley is soothing your burning skin with his gentle hands. Jake finally pulls out of you and you collapse into a heap on top of your fiancé.

“Oh, sugar,” Bradley chuckles. “You're cute if you think we're done.”

Your whine of exhaustion must be a secret code word for them, as Jake is gathering you up and laying back, pulling your back flush against his as he lays down. You feel his pulsing erection at your ass hole and whimper softly. You know exactly what this means.

“Gonna go slow, darlin’,” Jake whispers huskily in your ear. “Gonna make you scream again. Right, Bradshaw?” Another chuckle comes from above you - Bradley.

“She sounds so pretty when she screams for us, Seresin.”

Jake slowly pushes himself inside your ass, your teeth gritting and grinding as he stretches your hole wide open. You hiss in pain but the relaxation of your muscles brings incredible pleasure. You cry out softly as the full feeling begins to make you shiver.

“Oh, God, Jakey…” you whine. “S’Good…”

Bradley’s fingers poke and prod at your still-leaking cunt. You keen loudly at the feeling, already knowing now what the two had planned.

“Baby girl, fuck. You're squeezing the life outta poor Jake back there,” Bradley huffs. “Let's see how much more room you've got…”

He climbs over your body, and Jake's, and pushes his cock inside your cunt. Slowly, inch by inch, he seats himself fully inside you. Your strangled cries of pleasure are indication enough that they haven't hurt you. His hands are planted on either side of both your heads as he begins to pull out, only to snap his hips back to yours.

Jake moans as he feels you clench around him and Bradley, also loving the feeling of Bradley’s balls bumping against his. It's more intimate than he was planning on but fuck, if it didn't feel good. Your whimpering was simply music to their ears.

Bradley grunts and picks up the pace, Jake beginning to move inside you as well. You're overwhelmed with pleasure feeling their cocks slide past each other from the two angles they hit. Your eyes roll back in your head and you're babbling fucked-out nonsense as they fill you to the brim.

“Hah, baby girl, fuck,” Bradley grunts desperately. “So fuckin’ tight, I’m gonna cum again-”

“She's got a vice grip on me, Bradshaw, holy shit.” Jake’s voice is wrecked and you can tell he's trying to hold back. He’ll cum soon, too.

“Wanna cum baby? Need to cum?” Bradley teases. You nod your head in a daze and squeeze your eyes shut as his hand comes down to assault your clit.

“Cum, darlin’,” Jake hisses. “Fucking cum already.”

Snap.

Your scream rips through your throat as your orgasm washes over you. It's the longest orgasm you've ever had, and by far the most intense. It causes your fingers to tingle and toes to curl. You're left a crying, drooling mess.

Jake cums shortly after you, Bradley in tow. They grunt and groan your name as they fill your body once again. Bradley, spent from the marathon he just ran with the two of you, folds over you, still seated inside you. Jake pulls out of you and whimpers in exhaustion. A sound none of you were expecting.

In a daze, you feel Bradley pull you off of Jake and onto his chest. You wrap yourself around him and bury your face in his neck. All you need now is him. Your loving husband-to-be.

“I got you, baby,” he coos. “I've always got you.”

Jake smiles down at the two of you before sitting back. Bradley looks over at him and gives him a knowing nod of approval, which Jake returns. As if this was a “bro” thing that they'd arranged. You, on the other hand, are just a jelly mess of limbs and tingling all over.

“Jake,” Bradley hums.

“Bradshaw?” Jake answers.

“Appreciate your time,” your fiancé says with a smirk.

“Anytime.”

taglist

@roosterscock @kmc1989

#rooster brain rot goes brrrrr #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #hangman top gun #top gun hangman #hangman seresin #top gun maverick #hangman x oc #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x y/n #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw au #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin x oc #top gun threesomeissance 2023

[percyluvr]

could you do a jason grace x fem!reader , where the reader gets a little jealous since Jason gets hit on/asked out a lot by other ppl, and she is a little jealous, but jason just reassures her that she's the only one for him? im just craving some fluffy bf!jason content rn haha

jason grace x fem!reader summary: you get jealous when jason gets flirted with, but he reassures you that you're the only girl for him wc: 987

Being with a guy like Jason wasn't easy, and you'd known that from the day you started dating him, but you didn't expect to feel so insecure about yourself all the time. It wasn't like it was his fault, no, not even close.

You knew he was bound to get flirted with, he was very handsome after all, but it made you so insecure and you felt horrible about yourself, especially when girls that you considered way prettier than you began to flirt with him.

You never wanted to make him feel bad, so you never told him, but keeping it to yourself was beginning to take a toll on you. Typically, you and Jason told each other everything, and you were beginning to feel guilty for not telling him, especially when it was one of the only things on your mind recently.

At camp, everyone knew everyone, so it made you even more frustrated and insecure when other campers flirted with him. It made you think that they thought you were less than them and that they didn't care that Jason was dating you.

Before you began dating Jason, you generally thought that you were at least average, but now you felt like you were the absolute bottom of the barrel, and it was not a good feeling.

You wished so badly that you could voice this to Jason, but he had already dealt with so much that you didn't want to add to that, but apparently he'd caught on to how you were feeling.

The two of you were sat on a log near the campfire, Jason's arm wrapped around your body and your head laying on his shoulder. He was gently rubbing his hand up and down your arm in a soothing motion, subconsciously trying to make you feel better. His efforts to make you feel better had been working until a girl came up to you two, her eyes immediately looking Jason up and down in a flirtatious way.

"Give me a visit sometime, would you, handsome?" She gave him a wink and sauntered off to where she was sitting before.

You felt yourself tearing up and accidentally let out a small sniffle that you hoped Jason didn't hear. Unfortunately for you, he does hear, and gives you a concerned look.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He asks.

You clear your throat. "Um, nothing, excuse me for a second," you quickly say before removing yourself from his embrace and rushing off to your cabin. You hear Jason's footsteps behind you.

"Woah, slow down. Come on, talk to me, please," he pleads.

"Jason, please, I just need to be alone for a second," you say, voice cracking. He sadly nods and lets you go into the cabin.

However, what you didn't realize, was that he sat on the steps outside your cabin, waiting for you to be ready to talk, so when you did come out of the cabin, you screamed in surprise.

"Hey, it's just me," he softly says, reaching his hand out. You intertwine your fingers with his and sit down on the step next to him.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Are you ready to talk now, or do you need more time?" He gently asks.

"I think I'm ready," you say.

There's a moment of silence before you speak again. "I've been dealing with this for a while, but I really didn't want to say anything, because I know you're still dealing with a lot, and I didn't want to add to that," you say, pausing to collect your thoughts.

"You're never a burden, okay? I want to know what you're thinking, always," he says as he pulls you closer to him.

"Okay, well, ever since we started dating, I've been feeling kind of.. well, for a lack of better words, insecure. Almost every day someone comes up to you and flirts with you, acting like I'm not even there, and it just makes me feel inferior to them. This is probably stupid, never mind," you spoke, suddenly feeling very stupid.

"It isn't stupid. I hope you know that no matter how you see yourself, or how you think anyone else sees you, I still think you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in the world. You know that I would never even reciprocate their flirting, especially when I have you, you're the most important person in my life and I would do anything for you to be happy, okay?" He states, giving you a gentle kiss.

"Really? You mean it?" You ask, looking up at him.

"Really," he says with a smile. "I love you more than anything in the world."

#jason grace x you #jason grace fluff #jason grace #jason grace imagine #hoo #pjo #percy jackson x reader #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa #pjo series #heroes of olympus

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - VII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,003.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 7

Time was against you.

The more time passes, the more blood he loses and the more the chances of mortality increase.

You needed to be very careful and be as thorough as possible. Any wrong move or touch would result in Cleitus' imminent death.

The issue of medicine was also complicated and archaic and this only complicated everything. You weren't a doctor, but you knew enough about the human body and health care that you believed you could help save it. Your biggest concern, however, was the infection that could arise and how to treat the wound in his abdomen correctly and not make his situation even worse.

Those nights spent watching Grey's Anatomy could come in handy.

You almost laughed at that thought, but it was true. You tried to remember medical procedures and the biology books you had read in high school. You had to remember what was written.

You looked at Doctor Philip and frowned. He seemed more confused than you and that was because he studied medicine. Of course, not the medicine you knew, but still medicine even if archaic and probably with many flaws.

Obviously, Cleitus needed a hospital, with proper medical treatment. The only problem is that you were in the 4th century BC and not the 21st century and there were no conventional hospitals and there was the bonus that you were in a camp during a military campaign.

All the odds were against you.

The thought alone was very discouraging, but you weren't going to give up. You would do everything in your power to make sure this man lives and in the end it would all depend on how well you did.

Cleitus shouldn't die now and you were aware that saving him could change history even more, but you didn't care. Everything had already changed and you needed to save him.

You had to do it.

You washed your hands with the water that was there and the soap available. It wasn't the same as it was in its time, but it should help eliminate at least some bacteria.

You closed your eyes and counted to ten in an attempt to calm your nervousness and opened them again. You took a needle and sterilized it in beer. It wasn't what was recommended, but there was nothing else available so it would have to do.

Cleitus was lying on the cot, Philip was checking his temperature. You approached the cot with the needle and thread in hand, along with a wet and dry piece of fabric that was supposed to imitate gauze.

Philip looked at you suspiciously, ''What are you going to do?''

''Sew him.'' You replied as if it was obvious. You sat down on a chair placed next to the cot and grabbed the beer. You stared at your patient, Cleitus' tanned skin was pale and a wet cloth was on his forehead, as if it was trying to fight off a fever.

He was in a lot of pain and you would only make him feel more.

Your hands were shaking slightly and you cursed yourself for it. Taking a deep breath and praying to whoever was listening to you, you carefully cleaned the blood from the cut that was still bleeding, praying that internal bleeding wasn't happening.

You could stop external bleeding, but not an internal bleeding.

After cleaning up the blood that would get in your way, you threaded the needle and prepared to sew him up. Philip tried to help guide you, but you already knew what he was talking about.

You knew more about medicine than he did.

Trying to ignore Philip's babbling and the panic settling in your body, you pierced Cleitus's sagging skin and began to stitch him up. He was still and expressed no pain, but you knew he was hurting. The right thing to do would be to anesthetize him, but that was not an option available to you.

You managed to stabilize the tremor in your hands and finished the sewing, cutting the rest of the thread with a small knife. The wound had been closed and sterilized, Philip seemed satisfied and said that Cleitus could recover.

But you knew it wasn't just that.

A deep cut to the abdomen was dangerous and there were many risks to consider.

The cut had been closed but there were many things that could go wrong. An infection, internal bleeding or sepsis could occur. Or this could all happen at once.

The only thing left to do was pray and make sure he wouldn't die, at least not alone.

It felt like days had passed.

You had lost track of the time since you had treated Cleitus.

Your eyelids were heavy and you just wanted to sleep, but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep, not until you were sure he would live.

In a way, it was your fault. You were to blame for him being in such a state.

Although it seemed unrealistic, you were sure it was your fault. Alexander had his share of guilt that was greater than yours, but you still felt so fucking guilty.

You blamed Alexander too. Oh, and how you blamed him.

What was wrong with that man? By god, why the hell does he want to marry you? He knew you for what? A day or less? And you weren't politically attractive.

Not in terms of beauty, you thought you were quite beautiful.

But not politically. You literally appeared out of nowhere, with just the clothes on your back and probably looking like a ghost and he wanted to marry you.

It seemed like a very bad joke.

Cleitus had been the only sensible one, you recognized that. You were too shocked to react and you blamed yourself for it. Maybe if you had said something, Cleitus wouldn't have been stabbed.

Or he would have been the same way.

There was no way you could have predicted it, but you wished you could go back in time again and reverse this situation. But you couldn't do that.

Or could you?

You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts out of your head. There was no point in thinking about things like that, you didn't even know how you ended up in this place, much less how to travel through time again.

Or did you know? Now, alone with Cleitus in a strangely silent environment, you were finally able to think and analyze everything that had happened a few hours ago.

This all started after you bought that book, you were sure of that. And that book was supposed to be magical, it was the only explanation, even if your mind screamed otherwise.

You have always had a scientific mind and have always sought answers based on science and this has always worked for you. There was nothing that science couldn't explain.

Except that.

Science confirmed that time travel existed, but only into the future and not in the way you were experiencing it. Albert Einstein's theory of relativity was always something to be credited with and you trusted him.

Now you weren't so sure about that.

Science went down the drain in this case. Maybe it was some god playing with you or you went crazy. But you dug deep into your mind, looking for any traces of what might indicate why you were here.

And that was when you remembered that strange man who had approached you before you went to the market.

You shivered when you remembered his words.

''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''

Could he be the real culprit of your current torment? Possibly. In fact, him and that damn book were the things you could blame right now and only the gods knew how desperately you needed to blame someone or something.

You felt anger course through your body and you wanted to scream at someone. Preferably the culprit, but anyone would do in your moment of understandable outburst.

You felt tears in your eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of despair, but of pure anger.

You didn't try to fight back the tears, but let them fall and wet your face and the top of your blood-stained chiton.

All the emotions you had been suppressing finally exploded. The anger, the sadness, the fear, it all came at once like a devastating wave. Your eyes burned a little, but you didn't care.

After hours of anguish, you allowed yourself to freak out once and for all. And it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders after letting all your emotions out of you. You buried your head in your chest and folded your legs, trying to hide like you did whenever you were scared.

''(Y/N)?'' You raised your head and tried to focus your unfocused gaze on whoever had spoken to you. It was Perddicas. You smiled a little at his presence.

He approached you and gently touched your bare shoulders. You shivered a little at the sudden contact, but didn't try to push him away.

''Hey...'' You mumbled with a choked voice.

''How is he?'' He murmured, patting your shoulders.

You held back a sob, ''I'm not sure.''

Perdiccas just looked at you fondly with those beautiful blue eyes that you felt like you could get lost in them for hours.

''And how are you?'' His voice was a little louder than a whisper. He was trying to comfort you and you appreciated it immensely.

''Not great.'' You simply said, still looking into those mesmerizing eyes.

A hint of pain flashed across his handsome face. ''I'm sorry to hear that and for what happened to Cleitus.'' He mumbled and you could swear there were tears in his eyes.

''It sucks.''

He laughed nasally, ''Yes.''

No exchange of words was said after that. And it wasn't necessary, body and facial language said everything that needed to be said.

You were very close, closer than would be considered appropriate or comfortable but you didn't care. You needed this comfort, desperately and Perdiccas could offer you that.

He wanted to offer you this.

You knew it from your first interaction with him.

You leaned your face closer to his and his breathing became heavy, You didn't back away however. Your eyes were fixed on the general's full lips.

''(Y/N)...'' Perdiccas murmured, looking at your face with desire and affection.

Hearing him say your name like that sent waves of pleasure through your body. Your faces were close, very close.

''Perdiccas...'' He got goosebumps when he heard you whisper his name.

You no longer had any doubts.

Against all the common sense you had left, you sealed the distance between you. Your lips met in a shy and superficial kiss, but one that quickly became passionate.

You moaned softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his warm body closer to yours. Perdiccas touched your waist and squeezed lightly, deepening the kiss. Your tongues touched in a shy and passionate way, your mouths became one.

You reluctantly broke apart after the lack of air hit you. You opened your eyes and blushed when you saw his lips swollen from the kiss and his breathing a little labored. Yours was no different.

You took a deep breath and touched his face tenderly, stroking it softly. He was really very handsome, the kind of man you were sure you'd see in one of those magazines, maybe like Vogue.

''(Y/N), you...'' Perdiccas couldn't formulate a proper question, still very surprised and excited by the passionate kiss. He wanted to kiss you more and maybe even more than kiss.

You smiled at him.

You threw yourself against him, looking for the necessary comfort. Perdiccas hugged you tightly and kissed your neck, stroking your hair. You closed your eyes and gave yourself what you wanted most.

— lady l: You didn't expect that kiss, did you? Me neither. The idea for the kiss came up at the last minute and I had to write it, so... Yeah, we had a little kiss between our girl and Perdiccas. Will I mention the consequences this will have? No. Anyway, I hope you liked it and forgive me for any mistakes and bad writing on the medical treatment part lol, don't repeat that! If you have been stabbed, seek medical attention! Love you all and see you in the next chapter ❤️.

#history #yandere history #yandere historical characters #the lost queen #tlq #alexander the great #alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great x reader #yandere alexander the great

[fuckmyskywalker]

need to ride dad!Anakin’s combat boot while he works on some mission plan…

— CW: 18+, Smut. Fauxcest (Anakin is called "Dad"), if you are uncomfortable/don't like it don't read it. Grinding. Boot riding. Mentions of pet play. Slight mean Anakin.

— a/n: I'm a dad!Anakin apologist. At this point I'm down bad. Also, please take this as an apology for my hiatus.

“Stop fidgeting so much,” Anakin whispers, yanking your hair by the roots and gritting his teeth. “Dad is busy.” Biting your lips to hold a whine, you nod. He is generous enough to let you get off on his boot, perhaps you are being too greedy. Anakin rolls his eyes and returns his attention to the communicator on his wrist. “Sorry about that… my dog was trying to jump on the couch.” The lie is not even convincing, but his tone is. 

“You have a dog?” Obi-Wan asks from the other side of the line. “Since when?”

Anakin looks at you, lifting his foot so your wet folds rub against the tip. “Around 6 months?” His lips curve to a wicked smile, that’s the time you two have been dating. Holding onto his knee, you gasp quietly, jolting your hips forward to increase the speed of your grinding. “Where were we?” He coughs.

“Ah— yes,” Obi-Wan continues. “There are reports of increased Separatist activity near the Rishi Maze. It's a strategic location, and our sources indicate a possible assembly of their forces. I believe we should investigate and take preventive measures." 

“The Rishi Maze has been a critical region lately…” Anakin observes, humming as he pulls on your hair again. “Rex mentioned something about that, something about unusual encrypted communications.”

“I’ll propose the mission to the Council. Maybe they’ll give us the green light.”

“Thank you Obi-Wan, you know they won’t listen to me.” You are glad Anakin is about to hang up the call, hoping he’ll finally pay attention to you. “I’ll see you tomorrow—” But your excitement is too much. The slick that coats his black leather boots helps ease the rocking of your hips, but after a particularly harsh grind on the hem of the tongue of the shoe, a broken whine escapes your lips— painfully audible. Anakin’s eyes narrow and his shoulders tense; you can read it in his eyes, you are in big trouble.

“What was that?” Obi-Wan asks. You can even hear his frown. 

“My dog” Anakin spits, leaning forward and pushing you off his boot. Lifting it, he places the heel against your naked shoulder. “She just wants attention. I think she is in heat or something, I don’t know much about animals.”

Obi-Wan sighs through the communicator. “A dog is a responsibility you are not ready for, Anakin. How did you manage to keep her alive for more than a week?”

“Oh, I have my ways. Turns out I’m a better dad than I thought.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, but there is nothing humorous about the situation… not for you at least. 

When the call finally ends you can breathe, but Anakin seems to have other plans in his twisted mind. Standing up, he removes the commlink from his wrist and throws it over the couch where he was sitting seconds ago. Staring down at you, he shakes his head as you attempt to stand up, applying more pressure against your shoulder until you are lying on the cold wooden floor of your flat, his heel digging painfully against your skin.

“Are you that desperate?” He asks mockingly. It is better for you if you cooperate, it is a lesson you learned the hard way. “Are you that needy for Dad’s cock?” You nod to both questions, feeling your cheeks heat up at the humiliation.

“Please, Dad. I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to—”

“Shut up.” He rolls his blue eyes, taking a few steps so both boots are now on either side of your head. You have a direct view of his crotch, shivering at the sight of the visible outline of his cock under his black pants. “I think you need a lesson again. To be reminded of your place.” His voice lowers, and you don’t know if you are shivering from pleasure or fear. “But don’t worry, Dad will take care of you.”

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes! #dad!anakin #dad!anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin fanfic #anakin skywalker fan fiction

[thinkingaboutjaedyn]

puppy love ( elisa de almeida x reader )

prompt: you and elisa have to deal with y'all's puppy's shenanigans during the off season

author notes: please give me grace when you read this because i haven't written fanfiction in forever and i ain't grammar check this so.. still enjoy

it was finally time for the off season after a long, but fulfilling season at paris saint germain. you and elisa were planning to sleep the days away until it was time to get back to the fast paced soccer lifestyle. that was the plan before remembering you guys adopted a puppy at the beginning of the season. the little rascal by the name of cherishe (you forced that name onto elisa) was well behaved during the season. being an absolute joy to her babysitters when y'all were at away games and adorable when you two could bring her to home games. it wasn't until a well deserved break that cherishe started to show her true colors.

you and elisa was sleeping peacefully. having a nice cuddle, oblivious to what was going on in your shared apartment. the sound of tearing was what awoke you. just thinking it was nothing, you try to nuzzle back into elisa's chest but again the sound interrupts you. a light yawn escapes your mouth as you sit up in bed. sparing a glance at elisa (who was still sleeping somehow) before getting up out of bed to go find the source of that tearing sound.

"cherishe?" you call out as you walk out of your bedroom and into the hall. the little pup was cuddling happily in you twos' bed last night, but this morning she is no where to be found. you cross your arms across your chest as you walk further down the hall. once you reach the living room, you pause your steps. the sight before you was ridiculous to say the least.

cherishe is gnawing on one of the couch pillows with pillow fluff all around her. with pillow fluff over the living room floor in general. it would be a cute scene if you haven't just bought that couch a week ago. "cherishe! how did you even..?" you say in pure confusion on how such a small dog could make such a huge mess as you walk over to her and pick her up. effectively putting her into air jail as you walk back to elisa's and yours bedroom. your girlfriend was still sleeping without a care in the world as you walk inside. you shake her gently once near the bed.

"five more minutes.." she mumbles as she turns over, taking a pillow with her. you shake your head before shaking her once more as you say, "cherishe just tore up all of our new couch and if you don't wake up right now than i'm going to let her tear up our bedroom pillows." the threat was enough to make elisa sit up, blinking at you. it takes a few moments for her to fully process what you said before holding her hands out. "let me hold her, babe" the french player gives you a little sleepy smile as you place cherishe in her hands. "bad doggie," elisa baby talks at cherishe as the puppy licks at her.

you roll your eyes as elisa lays back down and starts cuddling with cherishe who looks more than satisfied. "she is in trouble and you're just rewarding her" you sigh out as you turn around to head back out of the bedroom. your girlfriend happily ignores your words as she pecks the top of cherishe's head. "in twenty minutes you better make your way out here and help me clean this mess, elisa. i'm not playing around" you say before going back to the living room.

🐾💗

that wasn't the only situation that happened during the off season that had to deal with a particular mischievous puppy.

one afternoon, you and elisa both decided it would be nice to take cherishe out on a walk. usually you guys would just entertain her in your apartment (elisa always manages to break something), but today was pretty sunny so here you guys are: walking in the park near the apartment. now you loved alot of things about elisa. her smile, the way she spoke, her cuddles, and her cooking just to name a few. however there are always downsides to everything. elisa's was definitely how hyper she is.

a hyper elisa and an overactive cherishe isn't the best combination. "stop riling up the dog!" you shout after elisa as she takes off with cherishe running right after her. "but it's fun! and it's good for her" elisa shouts back as she continues doing the opposite of what you said. eventually the troublesome duo stops on the grass. you roll your eyes as you see elisa start to playfight with cherishe. "you always complain about how cherishe never listens, but you never seem to listen yourself" you giggle as you take in the scene infront of you. with elisa laughing as she lays on her back as cherishe playfully bites her. "mother like daughter i see" you say as you lay down beside them. just alittle further away, so cherishe wouldn't decide that it would be a good idea to start biting you next.

you look up at the sky, enjoying the way this moment was so joyful. aleast it was a joyful moment before you hear elisa shouting and not in a good way. you sit up to see your girlfriend quickly running after cherishe, trying to catch up to the puppy. you jump up and start running as well. "cherishe, come back!" you call out as you steadily catch up to elisa who was already half across the park. this chase goes on for almost twenty minutes with cherishe acting like this is some kind of game.

finally, elisa is able to scoop up cherishe. she breaths out a sigh of relief as she turns to face you. a few ragged breaths come from you as you stop running and slowly walk towards the two. elisa starts to laugh loudly as she sees how red you are in the face from running. "and you call yourself a soccer player? look at how out of breathe you are" the french player teases as she hands cherishe off to you.

you focus a few moments on giving the puppy a stern talking to before giving your attention to elisa. "well usually i'm prepared to sprint and usually it's after a ball that doesn't have four legs and a puppy level of energy" you say back in defense. your lips curl up into a tired smile as elisa and you start to walk back to y'all's apartment.

a nice nap would definitely be needed after this little afternoon runaway pup chase.

#elisa de almeida #elisa de almeida x reader #woso x reader #woso community #woso fanfics

[yuusishi]

Hello, can i ask for Idia or Ace (I can't choose between the two the one I want, so you can choose it), Lilia and Ruggie (my man need more love) hc with a reader that adopt legally Grim ? Like, now Grim have the last name of reader, and he call reader his dad/parent, and they have to be approved by Grim to date the reader ?

(separate please)

Have a good day/night (sorry for my bad english)

-Anon

. . . INTRO TO NON-HUMAN PARENTHOOD

pairings : Ace Trappola , Lilia Vanrouge , Ruggie Bucchi x gn!reader

genre : fluff , written with graduated!reader + characters in mind , established relationship

cws/tws : very tiny book 7 spoilers…like rlly small

a/n : it feels so weird not having any work done since my teachers assigned all our work before christmas break so we’d be able to rest

ACE TRAPPOLA !!

If he has to be honest, he doesn't know how to feel, not in a bad way tho!! He's so used to teasing Grim as a part of the first years friend group, but now that he's legally your child (and by extension his son), it just feels weird sometimes.

But in the end their relationship doesn't change one bit, this also means there's endless bickering whenever Ace comes by your place.

The one thing he can't get used to is though is Grim referring to you as his parent. I mean, c'mon, if you've been hearing "henchmen", "my human" for years it's bound to be quite the change.

During the legal adoption process, he's the type to be beside you searching on his cheap little laptop the meaning of so many words on the documents you're meant to sign (this is his way of helping you).

It doesn't sink in for a while that the three of you are technically a family, you occasionally joke about getting married in the (probably near) future and making Grim be the ringbearer or flowerboy.

One night when Ace crashed at your place, you came home to see him and Grim passed out on the couch next to each other, even seeing two slices of pizza purposefully left for you and hints of the tomato sauce stuck on the edges of the two's lips. You smile, nothing truly changes with these two.

Lilia Vanrouge !!

He's SO excited.

Silver's getting a new stepbrother once the legal process is done.

He's slightly disappointed though that, since Grim is already grown at this point, he won't be able to raise him like he did with Malleus and Silver but he'll still consider him a son either way.

I don't think unwanted fatherhood included brushing up on law and the adoption process so your guess on what terms on the documents mean is as good as his.

But we have the internet! Like Ace he's searching the meanings and making sure you understand the depth of every word printed onto the documents. Although he's hasn't formally adopted a child, he at least knows the legal repercussions that could happen should anything happen to Grim.

Overall, he's happy to have a new addition to his family :) First it was Malleus, then Silver came by, then Sebek, then now you and Grim.

When he first heard Grim refer to you as his parent, he can’t help imagining if Grim would call him “dad” or “father” like Silver does [cue heart attack].

He thinks about his general days occasionally, especially when he gazes on as you and Grim play around the field near the house he found after leaving NRC. He did not enjoy the war, not in the slightest, but maybe fighting in it was worth it if this was the type of future he's able to enjoy.

Ruggie Bucchi !!

He was really surprised, as in super surprised.

The entire concept of parenthood didn’t interest Ruggie in the slightest since it just meant more money to spend, even if it meant you had a little bundle of joy, but when you said that you were legally adopting Grim…

He looked at you like you set off a bomb in front of him 😭.

But after calming down a bit, he realized that Grim wouldn’t be even more of a handful than he already is since it’s not like he’s a baby that needs 24/7 caring.

Ruggie’s worked a ton of part time jobs just to earn some extra cash while on Sage’s Island, so he’s definitely dabbled in the law in one way or another.

He’s also just generally smart so he was your go-to man in asking the meaning of some legal jargon and he was happy to help you free of charge.

Hearing Grim call you his parent for the first time and even refer to you as that when you’re all at home surprised him a lot.

You’re telling him the little brat that always called you “human” and “henchman” in NRC calls you his parent now?? He can’t believe it.

After finally being able to adopt Grim, he didn’t feel the need to act “fatherly” since he’s known you both for years ever since NRC. Sure, he might be more open to going on midnight snack runs, but that’s it!

When reality sets down on him that he actually has his own ‘family’ now, it was a strange feeling. A sort of bittersweet happiness. It was a dream to him that he wishes would never go away, and you were there to remind him that this was his reality.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #ace trappola x reader #ace x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie x reader

[satansaidnottoday]

When you get sick

Based on the Uno reverse Beel pulled in the last post.

Info: Human AU, GN!Mc.

Summary: You've got the cold and now your boyfriend must take care of you.

Warnings: general talk of sickness.

Lucifer

Has "do what I say, not what I do" energy. 

He urges you to take time off and rest. Says it's very important to relax for a timely recovery. Be sure to remember his exact words for the next time he is sick.

Will try to get out of work earlier so he can take care of you. He calls you throughout the day to see how you're doing and if you need anything. If you're in a really bad condition, he will take time off to take care of you.

He can't cook, but will order any foods you like. 

He will cuddle you if you ask, but won't offer on his own. He is a little scared of it being contagious. 

When you feel better, he won't expect anything from you but will accept any gestures of gratitude you give him.

Mammon

Whiny.

Thinks you're going to die.

You have to reassure him that it's just a cold every thirty minutes. I will try to get you to the hospital anyway.

He is completely at your service from day one. Do not dare move a muscle; the great Mammon has everything covered for you.

You have a fresh supply of hot tea always by your side. He makes sure you get all of your meals. He keeps a tally of every medicine you need to take. You basically have a personal nurse.

Lots of cuddles and massages.

If you're trembling at all because of the fever, he will hold you as if you were having a seizure.

He cries a lot when you're in pain, probably more than you.

When you're feeling better, he will expect at the very least a thank-you gift. A shopping spree would be preferable.

Leviathan

He doesn't know what to do.

Finds everything to be too overwhelming. He is really worried about you and wants to help, but he has no idea how to take care of a sick person. So, of course, he goes back to the person who used to take care of him when he was sick. Mammon.

He tries his hardest to be just as supportive, but it doesn't go well. The tea is always too hot or too cold, he only knows how to make ramen, and he keeps forgetting about the ibuprofen!

In the end, the best he can do for you is bring you more tissue boxes and lay down by your side while you watch movies. You reassure him that this is more than enough, but he still feels a little guilty.

When you feel better, make a great spectacle about how helpful he was. He did miss a butch of seasonal releases just to stay with you.

Satan

He will insist you take time off the moment symptoms start to show.

Shows up at your house with a butch of medicinal herbs. Mint to open up your nose, lavender to help with the headache, cardamom for... Something? He knows it had some healing property, but seems to have forgotten. He makes you some soup with it just in case it was important.

Won't go near you, even if you ask. Most he'd do is help you get around if your muscles are aching.

He will tell you about his latest read and how it made him feel. If you have read it, he will ask you to compare notes. Just trying to keep you entertained any way he can.

He brings all of his favorite tea blends for you to try out.

He won't expect anything in return for his care. He loves you, and that's just what you do for the people you love.

Asmodeus

Whiny 2.0

"My poor, beautiful thing."

He might not know a lot about caring for the sick, but he knows a lot about self-care. You will still have a runny nose, but your skin will shine, baby. 

He will pamper you. Have all of the blankets. Sleep for as long as you want. Ask for any food, and he will get it for you. With unlimited snacks, you can even have his favorite chocolates. He will watch all of your comfort shows and movies with you.

Baths, many baths. They are really good when you're sick; they relax your muscles and help the bad energies leave the body.

As soon as you're feeling good, it's his turn to be pampered! So better be prepared.

Beelzebub

If nothing else, you're well fed.

All healthy meals, he won't let you indulge in sweets. Your body needs protein and veggies right now, and he will have them for you at every meal. 

Will cut fruit for you as snack.

Pushes you to do some light exercises when you can. Sweat out the sickness.

He is very supportive, constantly telling you you're going to be okay. He will stay by your side every single minute.

He will carry you around if your muscles are sore.

When you're feeling better, he will make you desert. For the days he has you surviving on steamed broccoli and rice.

Belphegor

This is actually great news.

He gets to cuddle with you all day, and you won't be able to escape. He can even use you as an excuse to take a day off. No work, no school, just napping with his favorite person. Every day should be like that.

If only you didn't have to be sick for it to happen. 

He doesn't know much about taking care of someone. Being the youngest one, everyone else always took care of him. But he doesn't like seeing you hurt, so he will try his best.

The best medicine he can offer you is a good nap in his arms, but he will try some of Satan's medicinal teas. If needed, he will get Lucifer to drive him to the pharmacy. 

He doesn't know a thing about eating healthy, so you will get a diet of chips, pastries, and candy.

If you manage to get better, he will whine about not having your full attention anymore.

Thanks for reading!

#OB!HumanAu #obey me #obey me x reader #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me nightbringer #om! shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me gender neutral mc #obey me! headcanons

[koreads]

HAZEL CALLAHAN WITH A GAMER GF:

im a gamer myself and i really want to date hazel ughhh (there's nsfw in this one, minors dni!!!), this is pretty bad guys, so is my english.

but i hope you enjoy my little pookie bear bullet points 👍

i don't think hazel is big into games, maybe she enjoy some cute games (bc she is a cutie!) like animal crossing or something like this;

her gf enjoys fps games, she lives for the competitive atmosphere. hates losing her ranked games but, at least she has hazel.

—Haze. —the girl in front of her was speaking in pout, dark circles under her eyes, the hair was a mess falling out of her bun.

—What is it babe? —Hazel opened her arms, Y/N didn't waste a single second before cuddling into her girlfriend —Did you lost again? — Y/N pinched her, Hazel laughing out loud.

—That fucking game is ridiculous. —she said, nuzzling into Hazel neck.

Being near her girlfriend was the only thing that made Y/N calm after a long time getting annoyed with FPS games, Hazel couldn't understand why her girlfriend spend so much time at something that made her so upset but, was glad to help with cuddles and head pats.

y/n really wants to be a perfect girlfriend for hazel because she genuinely thinks that the girl deserves nothing but love and attention. but sometimes she simply forget about having a life outside her rpg games, after all, why live in a real world when you can life in genshin impact?

when she feels like spending all day gaming, she asks for hazel to be with her. they cuddle in front of the screen and y/n explains the game to her lover.

—And that's my baby, Scaramouche. —Y/N said. She was between Hazel legs, both wrapped in a blanked in Y/N room. Even though they were in Y/N's bed, surrounded by her stuff, she could only smells Hazel perfume.

—I thought I was your baby?

Y/N kissed her girlfriend cheeks, smiling wilde at the pout in her face.

—You're my baby, my darling, my lil' pookie—even though Y/N hated the chessy nicknames e cute actions, she couldn't help whenever her pretty girlfriend was near.

after much insistence of y/n, hazel started playing some games other than animal crossing. her favorites were the sims bc she loved making a cute family with y/n, hsr bc she didn't had to do much and fall guys, bc she really liked the silly running.

—That's the room of our son, Robert Callahan. —Hazel was showing the baby at her iPad, Y/N was sitting at her girlfriend lap and distributing kisses along her neck.

—I like the LGBTQ flag in his room. —Y/N said, her fingers running through Hazel's hair.

—He support's his moms.

NSFW:

hazel is very patient. she always waits till y/n to end her gamer moment to ask for her attention. im general, she even enjoys watching her gaming but sometimes she gets a little needy.

when she gets needy, she really can't wait.

Y/N shuddered, gripping her mouse with a strength that could broke it, very easily. Her eyes were fighting to stay open, and mouth forcefully closed because she certainly didn't want to moan in front of her teammates.

Hazel was just down her desk, eating her cunt like it was the first meal she had in years, her fingers gripping the girl thighs with such a strength that certainly would leave marks.

—Oh, fuck me. —Y/N rolled her eyes, one hand leaving the keyboard to hold at Hazel's hair. The girl looked up, her blue eyes shinning in a sinful way —Guys I have to go. Bye. —turning the game off, Y/N grabbed Hazel face, bringing her to a kiss —You'll be the dead of me, Haze.

Hazel's hand went from her thigh to her wet cunt, making Y/N moan and throw her head back, before moving her hands to take of her girlfriend's pants. Pausing for a second, once she felt her orgasm coming.

—Haze I'm gonna...

—Cum. Cum for me, darling.

As if she was waiting for Hazel order, Y/N came. Her moan being drought in Hazel's lips.

—My turn. —she whispered popping open her girlfriend's jeans.

even if y/n loved videogames, she loved hazel even more.

Cuddling into Hazel naked chest, Y/N kissed her lover, smiling when the girls shivered with the contact.

—I love you. —she mumbled.

—I love you too. Even if you spend way much time with the bald guy with a weird beard.

—Kratos?

—I don't care about his name. —Hazel mumbled, pouting and hiding her face at Y/N hair.

—I bet Kratos couldn't make me come three times in a row. —Y/N said, smiling when she noticed Hazel blush.

—I could do four, y'know?

Moving faster than Y/N imagined she could, she straddled Hazel, smiling down at her beautiful face.

—Then what are you waiting for?

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan x reader #bottoms (2023) #ruby cruz #kit thantalos #hazel Callahan fluff #hazel callahan smut #hazel callahan drabble

[kujakumai]

Personally, I agree that TKB has every right to feel anger and take action to prevent the tragedy of Kul Elna from happening ever again. But the second he says "I'm going to work with a demon to destroy the entire world" is when I put my foot down, because that makes him no better than what the ruling class did to him; it makes him worse because he's inflicting that to other innocent people. Neither Atem and TKB are completely correct or wrong, but the story siding with only Atem is morally iffy

-TKB isn't a real person independently arriving at moral actions, he is a character in a narrative whose structure and characters are consciously designed by human beings to tell a particular story

-Saying "Well, TKB was still evil because he wanted to destroy the world" is accepting the premise of the narrative and TKB's motivation as if it sprung forth from the ether, ever-extant in its present form and incapable of being written any other way

-The narrative of MW paints a portrait of a world that is visibly and systematically unjust and whose domestic and military power is derived from the literal death and exploitation of the poor; it then has a character, TKB, make very deliberate criticisms of this system, and puts them in direct contrast with Priest Set and Akenhadin's own ongoing corruption.

-Since again, this is a story being crafted with intent, this contrast directly leads audiences to conclude that TKB's criticism is valid, and the author intends us to reach this conclusion and has deliberately set up his commentary. Determining that TKB is right about the monarchy is the logical conclusion of the facts and narrative tools we as the audience are given.

-However, instead of leading us to a satisfying conclusion based on this setup, the story instead tacks on "...but he wants to destroy the world, so we can kill him!" and never meaningfully addresses the questions about good and evil or the nature of the throne, nor does Atem ever have to really face them. It disposes of TKB and quickly sets about putting a heroic coat of paint on a mostly unchanged Set and reducing everything to a quick and tidy good vs. evil shonen fight scene, contradictions be damned.

-The problem with this plot twist isn't fantasy-monarchism. It's that it is actively disorientating. We as readers have been told in loud, bold letters for over two dozen chapters what this story is about and what message it's trying to communicate (a very powerful one, based on how passionate people become about it!) and the story simply...dumps it all, and starts pretending to be a totally different story. Like none of that earlier stuff mattered and we should suddenly be content with power-of-friendshipping the bad guy into dust.

-Tongue-in-cheek declarations that "TKB was right!" aren't moral statements about TKB or Atem's actions, because Thief King and Atem aren't people, they are characters--a narrative tool the author is using to tell a story. And again: the narrative is telling us that TKB is right and the monarchy is troubled and unjust. Vocal declarations that Thief King was right are really an expression of disgust for a clumsy narrative betrayal. "MW told me this excellent story, got me invested, very deliberately set me up to draw these conclusions about the story it was telling and the message it wanted me to get...and then tacked on the ending for a completely different story that had nothing to do with any of that! This is bullshit!"

-If TKB were a mere generic evil, who intended to destroy the world for his own gain and had no compelling criticisms of the hero's world or complex tragedy, he wouldn't be anywhere near as interesting (see: the anime, which did almost exactly this), but I don't think people would be half as worked up about it. It would be neat, at least, because if everything is a fantasy good vs. fantasy evil from the start, then at very least the story would match its ending. No one would feel misled or disorientated.

-But the story did ask moral questions of our characters, and it did so carefully, deliberately, and with fireworks; it is therefore culpable for failing to even attempt to have them answer them.

-At the same time, the trope of the "rebel turned murderous extremist" is well-worn and troublesome. There are ten thousand examples. A villain who challenges the status quo, who takes issue with real problems, revolutionaries and rabble-rousers with righteous fury...but they want to, uh, kill innocent people also! for some reason! which is why our heroes (defenders of the status quo) need to get rid of them and we don't need to listen to what they are saying!

-Why does fiction so frequently depict people angry about real societal problems, and who act to change them, as people whose legitimate complaints are inexorably tainted by tacked-on inexplicable violence?

-Who benefits when fiction frequently conflates righteous criticism of injustice with supervillainy? When fiction conflates heroism with stalwart defense of the current system? How do we carry these narratives with us into the real world?

-You are criticizing Thief King as if he were a person. I'm not, and I'm not interested in doing that. I am criticizing the poor formulation of a story.

-anyway. TKB did nothing wrong

#long post #meta

[slashers-and-rats]

Could you make Michael Myers' reaction to entering a house during a hunt and see a mother and her two children sleeping hugging on the couch?

rat chat: micheal seems like the type that would have some general morals. that’s kinda what this fic in general is demonstrating.

micheal myers x fem!reader | sfw |

micheal felt the autumn leaves crunching underneath his boots. no matter how silently he crept through this backyard, the sound still managed to escape into the quiet of the night. he was lucky that the wind was blowing, hard and loud, as it covered up any of his footsteps.

he was careful as he slithered up to the back of this house. there wasn’t anything special about it, nothing that drew him in and made him sure this was the target. there was no rhyme or reason in what micheal did, not always. sometimes, when hunting, he just needed to make a choice based on nothing but his own instincts. there was nothing different about this home. the only thing he noticed was a few balls strewn about the backyard.

‘must have a pet to watch out for’, he thought to himself.

he pressed himself up to a window, peering into the dark of a random room. upon further inspection, it seemed to be a living room, since in the very middle there was a couch. on the couch, laying as if she were bait in a trap, there was a woman.

micheal didn’t see much of her, only her head laying back against the top of the seat. she was dead asleep, clear by the way her mouth hung open in silent snores. he took note of her position, lingering for a moment. she seemed peaceful. he almost felt as though he shouldn’t ruin this moment- maybe he could find another house, and satiate his needs that way. but, it was too late into the night, he had to commit. didn’t he?

he pried himself away from the pane, stepping back and going to a nearby door. he found the knob and tried a few times, finally feeling it creak open and swing out near him. this neighbourhood was notorious for unlocked back doors (as if an intruder would only try the front).

he stepped up into the house, glancing down at the welcome mat he was met with. ‘remember to wipe’, it read in colourful, bubbly font. he tilted his head, amused that some woman would not have grown out of such childish things. he shrugged, deciding to amuse this little request, and he wiped some of the dirt from his boots off onto the mat. he then began his ascent into the home, weaving his way through the halls until he was back where he needed to be.

right there, sitting on the couch, was the woman from the window. micheal could hear her soft breathing now, and see the way her shoulders rose and fell with each breath. he examined her from the doorway for a minute, tracing over the shadows that adorned her face.

something tugged at him, urging him to leave and abandon this prey to its warren. he didn’t understand it, thinking that there was some… performance anxiety, or something of the like. it usually happened when he was walking into a bad situation, like a trap or a victim that liked to fight, but this didn’t seem like something he should be nervous about. it was just some lady, a sleeping beauty unaware of his presence. this was an easy target. it should be, at least.

he stepped up closer to the couch, and rounded it so that he was at the front. it’s then that he learned what the feeling was, or what it was trying to tell him.

sitting at both sides of the woman were

two kids, one to each hip. they laid over her lap and nestled into the warmth of their assumed mother, sleeping just as soundly as she was. upon closer look, micheal could see they had fallen asleep while reading a story book. a version of red riding hood, warning of wolves in the forest, and intruders like him thirsting for blood.

he was a villain. he had been well aware of that fact for a long time. he had abandoned his own virtues, deciding to find comfort in unforgivable sins, but seeing such a sight made him feel… dirty. it wasn’t common for him to be so self-aware. he usually targeted people that could be justified, a bully or a selfish landlord, but this. he could feel hell nipping at his heels.

micheal stared down at them. if one could see through the holes in his mask, they would see the intense focus in his gaze. he tried to untangle the knots that had developed in his stomach. regret, apprehension, the need to retreat- they swirled around inside of him and made him step back towards the middle of the room. doing this only gave him a greater view of the home. toys strewn about the floor, a child sized table littered with photos of the kids and this mother, and the same sort of balls from outside sitting in a heap near the same window he looked through. he should’ve known when he’d seen the yard there were kids here, he should’ve listened to his own intuition, but…

he shook his head. micheal had standards. he had needs, sure, but somewhere deep inside him there were morals, buried under years and years of neglect. he couldn’t do this, he couldn’t raise a blade to these people. yet he still felt the need to disturb, to bring some fear. maybe… maybe he could.

he went over to where they all lay, resembling the corpses he had seen many a time before, and picked up the two children. he was gentle, and they seemed to nestle into him, most likely mistaking him for their mother. she stirred only for a moment, but settled relaxed against the couch. he then got to work.

in the morning, when you were awoken by the birds singing sweet tunes, and the sun shining on your face, you found yourself on your couch. it wasn’t rare that you’d fall asleep in your living room, but this felt different. you recalled the night before, and how your children had been their with you, and it made you pat the seats beside you.

they weren’t there.

for a moment you panicked, eyes widening as you sat up and began scanning the room. it had been cleaned. toys were put away carefully in their bins, pictures had been pinned to their proper cork boards, snacks had been swept off the rug- this was not how this room had been left. you knew the kids wouldn’t have cleaned it either, not without a bit of a fight. it filled you with dread. someone had been inside, and had decided to… clean? such a kind action, and yet you were filled with unease. your home had still been entered, after all.

you pushed yourself up from the couch, beginning to look around the home, calling out for the kids. the more you called without answer, the more your chest tightened. room after room you checked, until you finally shoved your way into their bedroom, and-

there they were. they were still asleep, blankets tucked tight to their chins and peace on their faces. you made sure they were breathing and all in one piece, before sitting down on the edge of a bed. your heart was still racing, the pounding filling your ears.

you had to take a moment to breathe, to reassure yourself that it was all alright. maybe you had done this and didn’t remember. you had been so exhausted yesterday. it was a weekend, and the children had been particularly energetic. maybe, in your own half-asleep state, you had put them to bed and cleaned up the living room.

you insisted that must’ve been it, nodding your head and looking up to the window.

it was open.

you stood up quick, going over to it and leaning outside over the sill. you never left their window open, as one of the children had believed there to be fairies that would whisk them away. no, no you wouldn’t forget such a thing. you couldn’t have.

you looked outside, seeing nothing in the horizon. it seemed safe. you leaned back into the room, shutting the window tight and closing the curtains.

micheal watched from the tree line.

#micheal myers #micheal myers x reader #slasher x reader #slashers #ask