#What possessed me and how do I do it again??

[ddarker-dreams]

Lock I need you to share something about Gojo. Jjk is getting worse with no hope in the future. Plis just a tiny part is god. 🙏🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Detour.

Gojo Satoru x F Reader x Geto Suguru.

Warnings: Mild not SFW implications, Gojo and Geto are Not normal about you, exhibiting possessive behavior. Word count: 1.2k.

-Index-

"—Excuse me, miss!" 

The exclamation barely registers amidst the crowded street's ambiance. Everyone has a destination they're eager to reach, and you're no different. Unlike those native to the area, however, you're more likely to get lost; hence your current conundrum. 

You examine the mess of squiggly lines, blocks, and patterns intended to function as a map. 

Kagurazaka, Kagurazaka... c'mon, I know this one... it starts with the kanji for god or something, right? 

While you scrutinize the map, the same voice from earlier calls out again, this time beside you. You glance around, not wanting to respond if he’s trying to flag down someone else. In doing so, it becomes increasingly obvious that you’re who he’s been trying to grab the attention of. 

From the looks of it, he’s a man in his late thirties, wearing a suit that could use a good ironing. You can’t recall meeting him before. Then again, you’re not privy to everything that happens back on campus. Meetings with influential figures frequently occur without your knowledge. You only ever find out about them later when Satoru loudly voices his critical view on everyone who attended. You are wearing your uniform, it’s recognizable to those in Jujutsu circles. 

You’d rather not stir up a scandal by unintentionally snubbing a Zenin or someone equally important. With this in mind, you politely inquire, “Can I help you?” 

“That uniform… you’re a high schooler, right?” 

You nod, figuring that this confirms your hypothesis. 

“What year?” 

This question makes less sense. Maybe he wants to know your proximity to Suguru, or, far likelier, Satoru. These types always have their own designs for the pride of the Gojo clan. 

“I’m a second-year.” 

“I see, I see,” he begins rummaging through his blazer’s inner pocket. He procures a business card and holds it out. “How about a job? From the looks of it, you’d make a good fit.” 

You blink. 

Are you… allowed to do freelance work? You’ve heard of specific sorcerers being requested for jobs, but that’s always been through the school. Besides, as a Grade Three, you don’t think you can go on unsupervised jobs. Not wanting to seem rude, you reach out to accept the card— 

—Only for it to be intercepted. 

“Sorry, she’s completely booked,” a voice that sounds the furthest thing from apologetic chimes in. 

Gojo Satoru stands to your right, adorned with his circular sunglasses and trademark grin. He rips the card in half without so much as a second thought. You stare at him, incredulous. Questions swarm around your head. When did he get here? How didn’t you notice him until now? Why does his cursed energy have such an unnerving quality to it? 

He bends down and hangs his arm around your shoulder. “You’re somethin’ else. Ignoring Suguru and I’s calls, chatting up strange men in Kabukichō… I swear, we can’t take our eyes off you for a second.” 

“Wh— I’m not chatting anyone up!” You whisper yell. His infinity nullifies enough for you to jab a finger at his chest. “Why can’t you give better directions?! ‘West of the Edo Castle’ doesn’t tell me anything, it just sounds like a TV drama!”

Satoru shrugs. “Should’ve just asked an auxiliary manager to drop you off.” 

“You might treat them like a personal taxi service, but I’d rather not. Taking the train’s fine.” 

The man finally overcomes the shock inflicted by Satoru’s audacity, taking a step forward. “What are you, her boyfriend or something?” 

“Bleh, no!” 

“Future husband.” 

Yours and Satoru’s responses come out simultaneously. 

“In that case—” 

“Excuse me,” A new presence interrupts the increasingly irritated man. Suguru wears a friendly smile which somehow comes across as more menacing than Satoru’s wolfish grin. He places a hand on the man’s shoulder. “You are aware that it’s a minor you’re trying to recruit, correct?” 

The man flushes at the accusation. “Listen, I dunno what you’re trying to accuse me of—” 

“I’d hate to see you get in trouble for a mistake like that,” Suguru cuts him off again, raising his voice ever so slightly. This attracts the attention of some bystanders. “Who knows what consequences that’d result in, especially for a married man like yourself…” 

Huh. You hadn’t even noticed the gold band on his ring finger. Suguru’s nothing if not perceptive. 

Nearby commuters whisper amongst themselves while eyeing the scene. The man’s gaze flits between a self-satisfied Satoru and an overly polite Suguru, eventually settling on an escape route. Wordlessly, he departs, although you swear you overhear him muttering ‘crazy kids’ and ‘doomed girl,’ along the way. 

“Yo, Suguru. Took you long enough.” 

“Unfortunately, not all of us can teleport.” 

“Your curse did a better job at tailin’ me than you.” 

Ignoring the jab, Suguru dusts his hands off while honing in on you. “You alright? You weren’t answering our calls.” 

“And you’re late,” Satoru whines. He helps himself to searching through your purse, taking your pink Razr hostage. “Huh. Battery’s dead.” 

Suguru appears content. “What’d I tell you?” 

“If she’s blocked me before, the same could happen to you.” 

“I wouldn’t block Suguru.” 

“She wouldn't block me.” 

This time, it’s you and Suguru who speak concurrently. Satoru pouts, putting his hands up like he’s under attack (which he probably believes himself to be). You snatch your phone back without issue, unlike when he last stole it. He unblocked himself and dangled it above your head until you promised you wouldn’t do that again.

“And here I was, about to treat you both to pastries,” Satoru sighs, melodramatic as ever. 

“While we were waiting for you, I noticed creampuffs and macaroons on the menu; which would you recommend?” Suguru inquires, not bothering to acknowledge Satoru’s complaints. 

“That depends on what you want from the experience,” you mimic his decision. “Creampuffs tend to be one flavor, whereas macaroons come in multiple, so the variety’s nice. When I get a variety pack, I always end up disliking one of the flavors and wishing I’d just gotten my favorites instead.” 

Satoru sighs as loud as he can. “Right, right, I’m just a walking wallet. Let’s get going before someone else solicits [First].” 

“Eh?” You turn your head to face Satoru. “‘Solicits?’ As in…?” 

“Se—” 

Suguru slaps a hand over Satoru’s mouth. “What he means to say is that this isn’t the best area for a high school girl to linger.”

“W-Wait, hold on! I thought he was like a… er, how would you say that… sorcerer employer?” 

They both stare at you. 

“You do know what Kabukichō’s famous for, right?” Suguru tentatively asks. 

“Hm? ‘Kabuki’ is a type of traditional theater, isn’t it?” 

“...” 

“...” 

“Let’s just show her what we mean,” Satoru bends down, picking up two halves of the business card he split in half earlier. “It’ll be a good lesson. I’d rather not have to come fetch her in this place again— oh.” 

Suguru inspects what has the power to shut Gojo Satoru up. You watch as his eyes move back and forth, his face shifting while he does so. His lips narrow into a thin line when he pulls back. Curious, you stand on your tiptoes, hoping to catch a glimpse yourself. Thankfully, there’s yomigana above some of the kanji you don’t recognize. This eliminates any possibility of you misreading the card’s contents. 

‘Oh’ indeed, you think. That poor guy…

It’s a business card for the company that oversees AKB48. 

#this was so fun to write LMAOO #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #geto x reader #suguru x reader #gojo x reader x geto #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #reader insert #golden girl #my stuff #answered #cecii22me

[rene-darling]

Listen I saw this fanart and now I had an idea. So like sub!Idol Xiao x dom reader (fem prefered but u can choose) and so basically Xiao's taking some mirror selfies for his social media in this outfit and yk like showing off those lacy panties (like they're pulled up, but he still has his jeans on) and like reader (their partnwrcomes home and sees him doing that. So they like sneak up behind him and hug him from behind. Like he becomes all flustered all of the sudden and readers like:"Oh so you're showing this to millions of people, but get embarassed when I see it?" What happens afterwards is up to u lmao

IDOL!- Xiao x reader

OML THIS IS SO- HOT. I love this concept. I'm drooling.

Possessive reader! A lil toxic I guess, but it's pretty tame.

Also! The readers gender nor pronouns are not mentioned anywhere, so feel free to assume. And if they are please feel free to tell me!

Talk to me on insta [r3xni3]😞🙏

...Xiao...

He's been at it for hours. Different angles, different poses- all to get a good photo of himself flaunting his panties and the tight straps attached to them on his waist,

They hug his body so tightly pushing at his skin, if they move even a little bit you'd definitely see the red marks under them, they push up against his skin, it hurts but, he's doing it cause his agency asked him.

"mhm..." Groans leaving his throat, the photos- they're just not good enough. Scrolling through the endless amounts of them that he took, finally landing on one that pleases him.

He decides to shoot it one more time, same angle and stuff, just better lighting. He wants to show off his toned body as much as possible. And as he does this, it- quite frankly skips his mind that he has a loving partner returning from work soon. And that soon happens to be around- now.

"Ah-!" His body freezes up. Goosebumps trace along his skin- god your hands are cold. His eyes flash down, seeing as your hands slowly trace down the side of his waist, fidgeting with the straps they came across, grabbing one and pulling it away from his body only to watch in amusement as it snaps back in place once you let go,

He reaches out to grab your hand instinctively, mewling- until you finally reach, and play with the hem of his panties.

"y/n- s-...mh, stop." He tries sounding serious, but he curses at how squeaky and pitched his voice came out.

"hm..? What's the problem darl', you can show off your panties to millions of people, but you're getting embarrassed when I see? Hmpf, I'm one of your fans too y'know?."

"i-its not the same-" he's stammering over his words "y/n- hah..-" slipping your hands in between them, but not quite touching him just yet, simply tracing the sides of his hip "and how so..? I'm your biggest fan, shouldn't I get a reward for that. I deserve more than a picture. Don't'cha think?"

Tracing down the side of his hip, he can feel your eyes peering over his shoulder, watching him. His every movement, his every shudder. And the way his panties start bulging in a specific area

"y/n-" his voice is cut off by his own whine. You're so mean, suddenly jerking his cock, tapping its tip just for your own amusement. "Aw- darlin that was too cute!..do that again? Hm? For me?..you take so many photos for those stupid fans of yours, you can make that cute sound for me again can't you..?"

Huffing, he's leaning back into your body. His head falling back with each increase in movement, resting it on your shoulder, whining back into your ear. "Hah- you- you're so mean..!"

It's not your fault he's decided to make you jealous. Seriously, why the hell should he post his body for all his perverted fans to see.

Picking up his phone and pressing record on it, angling it right at his face. "Look here baby, I'm sure your perverted fans would love to see their favorite lil idol losing his head over a few touches." His eyes widen in shock "n-no..!"

He tries grabbing the phone, but to no avail. You pull it further, and jerk his lil dick harder, he stumbles, falling forward before you grab his waist pulling him back into you, he's leaning his whole body weight against you, he just hopes you won't let go.

Snickering to yourself you decide to stop recording, and go into the photos, clicking on the video you just took, you bring it to his ears and make him listen "Aw- darling don't you just sound so cute when you're desperate."

That's when it all spills. A shameful feeling, and an ever more shame worthy whine leave him as he comes all in his lacy little panties, getting them all dirty.

His legs collapse completely as you're forced to pick him up off the floor, not that you mind.

Resting him on the bed, letting him catch his breath, you take a hold of his phone and- delete every photo he took showing off those panties.

Scoffing you throw his phone down next to him and crash onto the bed right near him, wrapping your hands around his pretty waist you hear him huff. "You got them dirty..." He could only mumble under his breath.

"I'll buy you some new ones, on one condition." Turning his head around with a slightly amused expression on his breathless face "and..that is...?"

"you can only take those photos for me. I get to see them. No one else."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin hcs #sub genshin #genshin xiao #sub genshin men #xiao x reader #xiao fluff #xiao smut #bottom xiao #genshin smut #genshin impact xiao #genshin #genshin x reader smut #sub char #sub xiao #dom reader #top reader #gn reader #female reader #male reader #idol au #xiao #alatus x reader #alatus

[only-goose]

Heeeey pookie!!

i loved your Arthur fic too much, the man deserves to receive more love here🥹🫶🫶 I have two ideas for you, which in my head make more sense. I will try to explain myself as best as I can but in reality this is not my strong point LMAO

If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗

Or maybe something about him being a little jealous and possessive not in a grotesque sense like I had to defend her from someone in a bar or something, like her being too nice by not wanting to walk away so as not to hurt the other person even if it's bothering her (that happens to me often haha😅)

Maybee some of the care for her when she's sick 🥹🥹

Of course, only if you feel comfortable with these ideas, which were more than two, I apologize for that, I'm a little excited.🧍🏻‍♀️🫶🫶

(I hope I have made myself understood, also English is not my first language, I am sorry if this is complicated when read or understood, also sorry this was so long :(, anyway much love to you 💗💗💗💗)

Little things

A/N: I am going to write all of them, they're so cute. Arthur absolutely deserves more love, he's underrated. Don't worry btw, your English is fantastic. I'm actually Australian so my spelling of certain words are different to everyone else's 😅. Keep an eye on my page for the next few days, I'll release them soon (I just need to finish my uni assignment first, whoops 🤷‍♀️). I hope I did what you were thinking 🫶🫶

Arthur Leclerc x reader

Warnings: Fluffy/Simp Arthur

Synopsis: "If you want and can write something about loving every little thing the reader does, such as the habit of brushing his hair behind his ears or, for example, when he reads a book that she cries, smiles or curses as if he LOVES that about her. 😮‍💨💗" - This part of the request.

You and Arthur were lying on the couch watching a movie after a long day. You propped up my pillows with Arthur on top of you, head resting on your chest. Your fingers started to scratch the back of his scalp, slowly worth their way up. He sighed as he pressed himself deeper into you, nuzzling his face into your skin. He lifted his head up and pecked your lips. You look down at him and giggled, “what was that for, baby?”. He looked up at you with a peaceful smile, his eyes brimming with love as he replied “just appreciating the small things” before resting his head back on your chest as you kept scratching his head.

The next time it happened, you guys were cuddled up in bed and you were reading a book. It might be one of the saddest books you had ever read in your life (for this I’m gonna use “Bridge to Terabithia” cuz I feel like everyone read it for school). You got the the chapter where the girl fell into the creek and drowned. The pure amount of detail broke your heart and sent you into a sobbing mess. Your sniffles caught Arthur’s attention, he looked down the see his shirt beginning to get wet. He pulled you up to face him as we wiped your tears. “Hey hey hey what happened mi amor?” He rushed. You explained what happened, causing Arthur to give you that look again. A peaceful smile, eyes brimming with love, he pecked your lips, “how about we read a happier book?” He suggested. “No” you said as you made eye contact again “I just wanna cuddle”. He grinned and settled down, pulling you into him “that is something I can definitely do”. You smiled as you tucked yourself into his side.

Another instance was when you and Arthur were walking through the paddock. The crowd was pushing and shoving, sweeping you away with them. Arthur quickly realised you had gotten caught up, jogging back to guide you again. You think your right hand to his left, your left hand coming up to hold his strong bicep on the same arm, basically wrapping yourself around his arm. You have his hand a little squeeze, leaning your head on his shoulder when he squeezed back. You made it to the Ferrari garage and you knew you would need to let go but you didn’t want to, do you didn’t. Arthur planted a kiss on your forehead and gave you that dopey, in love look he gives you in moments like these. “What?” You laughed. Arthur pecked your lips “nothing my love” he mumbled against them, “just admiring” he winked. Just like a school girl, you giggled and then cuddled into him, are grip still tight on his arm.

What really stood out is when you were cleaning your shared apartment. You were going through your shared closet when you found a brown leather book. The title on the inside of the book, in Arthur’s unmistakeable handwriting, was “those moments”. You flicked through the book and saw dates and times, which matched to all the moments when Arthur gave you the look. Scratching his head on the couch, crying at a book, being clingy at the paddock, it was all there. What you didn’t know, was that Arthur was leaning on the door frame, watching you read his little things journal. “Find something good, amor?” You jumped at his question. “I’m so so sorry. I shouldn’t be snooping but I’ve never seen it before, and I had no idea what it was for. I’m sorry, I should’ve given you your privacy an-” Arthur cut you off with a kiss. “Im glad you found it. Everytime you ask about this “look” I give you, you now know what I was feeling and thinking. Is that ok amor?” He has a glimmer of home in his eyes as he asks you. You put the book back where you got it from, wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed him deep “of it is, I love you Arthur” “I love you mi amor”

#arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader fluff #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fluff #arthur leclerc x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #f2

[runa-falls]

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before. 

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina. 

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish. 

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision. 

It’s a mess in the end. 

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you. 

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously. 

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again. 

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier. 

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it. 

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it. 

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs. 

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home. 

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust. 

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear? 

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that. 

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest. 

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit. 

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance. 

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

[i-yap]

MY FAVORITE IS DICK GRAYSON FORVER WILL BE DICK GRAYSON AND HERE IS WHY

DICK GRAYSON X Y/N ( FRUSTRATED ME EDITION)

- first of all , he is the hottest character in dc (literally the comics have written this line by line)

- he is the real one with communication issues. You think jason struggles with that? NO jason uses any chance to tell me people how much he suffered. But dick? He wears a smile, he hides everything he is feeling

- the only person who gets to see the real him is YOU. The stress, the pressure, the mommy daddy issues...cmon. and bruce prolly was the worst at raising grayson and learned from his mistakes for the rest

- dick is someone who tries to be happy. Who tries to have a normal life. Who tries not to let his issues affect him . But they do which is why he has so many fucked up relationships. But when he meets you he wants to keep you, he needs to keep you with him. So he tries yet again to open up, fix his issues, love you the way you truly deserve.

- AND let us all not pretend we are all not stressed asf in life. He is so joyful and bright and will almost never dull the mood. Car karaoke ? Done. Skinny dipping in some random lake you drive by? His suggestion. Amusement parks? He is excitedly pulling you to all the rides and WILL 100% WIN YOU THE BIGGEST TEDDY

- he is deep, he js in touch with his feelings and he knows how to take care of you. Idk abt u guys but I have issues . I want a man who gives you those words of affirmation, who makes it super obvious he likes you.

- he needs you just as much as jason or tim or damian do. He also never had genuine love, he also has been a soldier a leader the person responsible all his life. He needs yo hold you, he needs that peace and quiet away from everything he has to deal with . He wants someone he can come home to and just show how drained he is .

- he is so kind to the world but he WILL BURN IT FOR YOU . I refuse to believe any other opinion on this. No matter how big a hero this guy is...remember how he killed joker for jason? Someone he said he hated? Broke the no kill rule?? Yea imagine what he will do for you.

- and how dare u suggest he isn't jealous/ possessive. He gets so cranky..not insecure and u don't have to coddle him and avoid all other men ...but u do have to give him extra kisses

-HE IS THE REAL GREEN FLAG fuck the whole " a hero will sacrifice you for the world but a villain will burn the world for you" NOT HIM NO HE WILL KILL EVERYONE OKAY cuz how date anyone suggest taking you away from him after everything he has done for the world. You are his reward and you better remember that.

- slow waltzing in the kitchen while he sings you his favorite love song, giggling in a pretty cafe while sharing a piece of cake( he is feeding you the whole thing and will kiss you when u Ask why he isn't eating any himself) , getting tipsy and walking back home all sweet and drunk and in love. He is adventurous and wants to experience everything With you.

- best part, everyone around u will love him. I'm sorry but I like it when my bf is liked by the old ladies and my parents and my boss. He will make you the power couple, even if you aren't as "powerful". He is your biggest loudest supporter always. Always introducing you to ppl as if you cured world hunger , telling everyone just how smart and kind you are taking any opportunity to talk about You. And dancing with him at galas makes you feel like a princess

- he will get the best gifts, say the sweetest things, be the most supportive kind eyes only for you guy once he genuinely falls in love.

I love jason a lot too, and tim and bruce too. Like yes I daydream about all of them But I just hate how underrated my boy here is.

#batboys fluff #batboys #batboys x reader #batfam x reader #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #nigthwing x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson angst #dick grayson romance #dick grayson #nigthwing #dick grayson x y/n #Dick Grayson x Reader #Dick Grayson x You #Dick Grayson x Y/N #Dick Grayson Fluff #Dick Grayson Angst #Dick Grayson Comfort #Dick Grayson Headcanons #Dick Grayson Imagines #Nightwing x Reader #Nightwing x You #Nightwing x Y/N #Nightwing Fluff #Nightwing Comfort #Batfamily #Batfamily x Reader #Batfamily Fluff

[salaimoi]

i wave goodbye to the end of beginning ˚. ✦.˳· ⋆.✧̣̇˚.

pairing: gojo satoru x fem reader sypnosis: he wasn’t what you desired anymore, but he couldn’t let you go. months passed since your bitter breakup, and yet, he didn’t stop loving you for a second. cw: slow burn. angst for the sake of angst. falling out of love for no reason fr. unrequited love. alcohol consumption (gojo only) no happy ending me thinks, or maybe somewhat. who knows word count: 3.1k

author's notes: i’m mourning gojo and so should you! so here’s a piece of an angsty fic that’s been rotting, unfinished, in my drafts since march 29. i was only gonna post a sneak peek of this and suddenly the holy spirit took over me and drove me to finally finish it??? IF U EVER READ ANYTHING OF MINE PLEASE LET IT BE THIS😭😭i’m so in love with the reader crying scene u don’t get it. the metaphors?! i outdid myself. i am so terrified of the deep ocean, and the fact that i find myself writing about it during angsty hours says a lot about me. i can’t emphasize how much i adore this fic. i just love angst sm idkidkidk

also, this is my first time attempting angst for the sake of angst as well as slow burn (?) so idk if i’ll ever come back to this. not beta read.

Time and again, this mahogany dining table was the scene of numerous heartwarming interactions – mementos Satoru wouldn’t be able to replicate a second time, even if he spent a thousand lifetimes trying to do so. Sure, it was more than easy to recreate the scene, but not the genuine warmth the two of you felt in that moment. He could go to great lengths, such as hand-crafting every single piece of furniture in the room that bore witness – carving and polishing wood until his palms became more splinters than skin. But even then, he wouldn’t come close to reliving any of those gratifying sentiments from so long ago.

All the shared laughter at his trivial attempts at comedy had caught up to you; your smiles were forced lately, and he could tell. He possessed that diamond-blue, six-eyed gaze which consistently made you feel as if he could undeniably read your thoughts, but that wasn’t the case. Even a blind person could discern the unforeseen shift in your comportment toward him, and due to this, Satoru questioned himself relentlessly. 

What if he’d said something to offend you? What if he left the toilet seat up one too many times for your liking? What if he began snoring in bed but you were too considerate to say anything about it? What if he forgot a special date? What if he tried to offer you something you were allergic to? 

What if he stopped being the love of your life...? 

It seemed as if, in a fraction of a second, all the enjoyment you once felt had deserted you, and with it, your love for him. Had you forgotten how happy you were by his side all in the spawn of a few hours, or was this the universe’s twisted interpretation of a joke?

Even if it was, you weren’t laughing.

You told yourself it was fine, that it was a mere wave of sadness that would soon pass, but instead the harmless tide you paid no mind to had brutally swept your body into a sea of despair. Before you could process your predicament, the shoreline was well out of sight – blurring with the deep blue expanse of the oceanic abyss that enveloped your mind.

The longer you fought to stay afloat, the clearer the path became for the briny water to replace the oxygen in your lungs, giving you no choice but to drown as everything around you became a pitch-black, bottomless pit – devoid of any sense of worry for you. 

It was rather often that you were accused of abandoning the ship when things got bad, and yet, here you were – submerging along with it.  

How ironic.

Even he couldn’t save you now. The solace his mere presence bestowed upon you when you needed it most wasn’t there anymore. There was no more capability of initiating conversations with him when you were the only other person in the room, causing the once-upbeat and soothing environment to give way to one of silence and uncertainty; it was as thick as syrup.

Syrup. The sugary taste of it from when you consumed it during breakfast was all but replaced by a repugnant, sour one in your mouth. A persistent echo of those homemade fluffy pancakes you had turned down remained, even though he had made them just for you — his precious girl. 

You insisted you would eat later – an obvious white lie to mask your despondency and lack of appetite – but he spoon-fed you, because in his own words, “What kind of boyfriend would I be if I allow my girlfriend to starve? No, that won’t do. I’ll take care of you even after I've exhaled my last breath.”

“And how would you do that if you’re no longer breathing, genius?” you asked, a wilting smile on your face that you had put on display for him. 

“Well, my dear," he retorts with a smug grin. "I've always believed that love has a way of transcending the boundaries of life and death. And as luck would have it, our love transcends the mortal realm. I will always be with you, in spirit if not in flesh.” he smiles, a twinkle of amusement behind his sapphire eyes before continuing.

“Once I've moved on to the afterlife, I'll find a way to send you sweet nothings and a box of chocolates from beyond the grave. Consider it an eternal gift.”

He declares in a complacent tone as he lounges back in his chair, head resting comfortably on the back of his hands. 

"But in all seriousness," he then adds, his tone becoming more genuine, "I'll do everything in my power to ensure you're taken care of – even if it means making sure my eternal resting place has a Wi-Fi connection for you to receive my messages.” 

Your thoughts were entirely silenced in that moment; white noise overtook the black space within your mind. How had he managed to say such heartfelt words as if they were second nature? This early in the morning, nonetheless.

Would he actually…?

You knew he would.

"But let’s not dwell on my demise just yet,” his words bring you back to the present conversation. “Until the day comes, I promise to make the most of our time together. Besides, knowing me, I’d probably haunt you just to ensure you have someone annoying to keep you company."

He finally remarked, going back to stuffing your face with the soggy pancakes that had been sitting in syrup for too long. 

And you were cognizant of the fact that you alone were privy to this side of Satoru Gojo: the mushy, gentle one who tended to his companion as if it were a god-given mandate. 

To the public, he was a stoic, impervious character who had no dread of others. To you, he was far more vulnerable than he would ever confess. 

But that wasn’t nearly enough to deter you from taking the disheartening decision made later that day.

“I can’t stay here anymore.” austere words you didn’t wish to speak, but needed to, in order to provide some semblance of closure for the both of you. “I can’t love you anymore.” 

A hushed supplication could be heard flying across the room at the speed of light once your hand reached out to turn the bitterly cold door knob, hitting against the back of your head – identical to an equally-cold shower.

“Please don’t leave me,” he immediately protested weakly. 

He approached you with cautious strides, every step causing fragmentation in his all-too-frail emotional state. Even if it was ephemeral, the mutual love between the two of you had already left a blazing watermark on his soul. His feelings for you transcended the nagging rationality that bound his mind, defying all sensible objections he had on the matter of permitting you to depart from his life. Having failed to quell the ardor her felt, it persisted apodictically until he was an arm’s length from your frame. 

And that was exactly it – the same frigid sensation your hand clinged onto emulated the one you felt in your wretched heart the moment he approached you. You’d already turned your back on him and expressed every afflicting anguish that tormented your soul, so why plead now? Now – when you already made the conscious decision to leave him behind. 

Tears neither you nor he could hold back began flowing down your features. A familiar hand lifted towards your cheek soon after, wiping the salty residue off your delicate face with his thumb. 

He never ceased to remind you how gorgeous you were when you cried, frankly because the manner in which your wispy eyelashes retained the saltine tears in your eyes resembled the delicate surface of a tranquil pond.

Every tear you shed would become the gentle water that tickled his skin as his body wafted about in your iris – an eternal reservoir he’d swim in without tiring if the heavens so permitted it.

However, this occasion differed from the rest; the once gentle waters he yearned to lay in became calamitous waves, which may lure him to the ocean’s most profound recesses in the blink of an eye – your blink of an eye. He would usually stay afloat among that innocent gaze of yours, but tonight it was ruthlessly drowning him with no lifeline in sight. 

Even after he implored that your crying would come to a halt, more pungent teardrops bled onto his fingers. An eroding desperation flowed through you, aching to hold onto something, anything, in order to cease the mental decay within your subconscious.

Thus, your own hand extended to hold his against your cheek, a glacial embrace overpowering the warmth of his skin; an identical chill tickled his spine when he absorbed the crispness of your graze, but he paid it no mind.

“Not you too…anyone but you,” he pleaded in a low voice, causing more accursed tears of yours to cascade mercilessly as he embraced you in an endeavor to sway your decision. His voice was gentle and soothing, mimicking a caress you’d never experience a second time. 

“I’m sorry.” you muttered.

Being unable to bring yourself to meet the sapphire eyes that imitated a midwinter sky so perfectly, your head lay low; the only thing visible to him was the top of it. 

It was unclear what you were sorry about. Perhaps you were sorry that you had to leave him behind. Or perhaps you were apologizing to yourself that he was no longer what you thought you wanted with every fiber in your body.

You desired more in this life, and on your game board, he wasn’t a playing piece who could frolic alongside you. It wasn’t because you didn’t fancy his company, rather it was the fact that his own strategy of playing was one that did not catch your eye anymore; it had become a monotonous rehearsal. Every move came to be a discernible one to you – even before he picked up his pawn, causing you to lose interest in the entire game itself.

That realization alone shattered his entire world.

Satoru’s head lay low all throughout as he sat on a wooden stool amidst the empty bar. It was 2 a.m. and he needed to go home, but why should he?

You wouldn’t be there to greet him – or even scold him for that matter. 

Colorless, almost lifeless, marbles stared vacantly at the picture of you on his lock screen; he consistently spoke to your picture as if he were having a conversation with it. At this point in time, it had become routine. Maybe one of these days the frozen-in-time frame would speak back to him for once?

Just once.

Where had that tender smile he’d fallen in love with gone?

Where had you gone?

On a nightly basis, the same detestable conversation from that night redounded from one end of Satoru’s mind to the other incessantly – akin to a religiously recited sermon. 

It was impractical to disregard the harsh reality that sooner or later every cherished individual he held dear to his heart willingly departed from his life – Suguru, and now you. 

If it entailed becoming a regular person, he’d give his life as a sorcerer to ensure the permanent presence of at least one individual in his life. Where was the value of possessing such prowess when one’s vulnerability in the realm of love was inescapable? 

What twisted transaction was that?

He'd even willingly forsake his divinely bestowed talents for the purpose of altering the passage of time, thereby reverting to a period where your presence was far from being nothing more than a diminishing recollection. 

Ijichi had been dealing with this side of his boss for months on end. Regardless of his efforts to encourage Gojo to put an end to this melancholic act of his, he never managed to convince him to do so. Ijichi attempted the compassionate approach, but to no avail. His optimism and patience were dwindling, fearing that this would continue on for eternity – and perhaps it would’ve if he hadn’t stepped in.

This had to end sooner or later, and for everyone involved’s sake, it had to be the former. So tonight, he opted for a sterner, and perhaps more unforgiving, path.

Your car was parked out front of the bar Ijichi had sent you the address to – forehead pressed against the steering wheel as an audible, exhausted sigh escaped your mouth. It was late and you knew this was nothing short of inane behavior. You weren’t doing this for you; you had to remind yourself that you were doing it for him, with the hope that he would ultimately find someone who would be there for him in a way that you were unable to. 

Weary, almost weak, legs lead you to enter the desolate bar. A knife prods at your chest when your eyes dart over to where Gojo was. He kept his head lowered; the only part of him you could clearly see from this angle was his back.

An overwhelming sea of emotions plagued your mind when you witnessed him in such a state. You could feel the knives twist the longer you stared at the back of his fluffy white locks. 

Months had passed since your split, and you realized Satoru’s grief and distress were indeed as dire as his assistant conveyed to you during the phone conversation. 

A tap on his shoulder was accompanied by a sweet voice that had vanished into the depths of his consciousness a long time ago. Perhaps because he didn't wish to recall the agonizing memories that came with your voice, or perhaps because he needed to maintain a pristine, untouched image of you in his psyche.

As you occupy a vacant stool one seat away from him, your attention is drawn to the half empty vodka bottle in his grasp. 

“You know, I talked to your therapist. He said you were getting sober.” 

What you said held true, except you didn’t hear it from his therapist directly; Ijichi was the one who was initially informed about that, and being the caring person he was, he relayed the details to you. Mostly because he felt as if, deep down, you still wanted to know about Gojo’s well-being.

"What are you doing here drowning yourself in alcohol?" you added, seemingly concerned for your ex-boyfriend.

He looked up at you, his eyes red and bleary from the drink. His body froze. Blue pupils dilated in a mixture of shock and happiness. It really was you. Had you come back for him after all this time? 

"What does it look like I’m doing?" he muttered, his voice bitter and angry.

Satoru detested alcohol; it always interfered with his abilities, and being the strongest meant being ready whenever – no questions asked.  After your departure, though, he grew fond of the bitter, burning feeling the liquid provided. That sweet poison was the sole substance capable of muffling the eternal pessimism plaguing his mind.

You approached him cautiously, taking the bottle from his hands and setting it aside. "Come on," you said firmly, "we need to get you home."

He wasted no time to speak what was really on his mind. Even if it was for a mere second, he had felt the sensation of your touch once more. That was more than he needed to vocalize the thoughts that tormented his sanity. Either that, or it was the alcohol he had consumed speaking. 

“Why won’t you love me back?” His words slurred, being far too drunk to care, though. 

“…You’re drunk, let’s get you home.”

“What home? The one I bought for us that YOU left me all alone in?” he deadpans, the silence following being as deafening as a scream.

Ouch. 

“My room feels so empty if you’re not there. I see your precious face and I don't know what to do.” His expression dampens with anguish before he continues – somewhat unclearly, ”whatever I do, I cam’t fubking get you out of my head amd it’s ruining me.” 

“I told you to move on a million times every time you drunk dialed me, Satoru.” 

“If that’s what you wanted, why did you continue to pick up the call?” He retaliates, eyes glazed with forbidden tears on the verge of cascading against his pale skin.

You knew perfectly well why. He knew perfectly well why. Everyone Satoru vented to about you knew why, so why continue to deny it? 

Attempting to keep your temper in check, you take a deep breath, eyes darting back and forth between the door and him. It was more than easy to run away from your problems, like you always did. But not this time.

You owed it to him to at least finally stick around long enough when things got tough. You wouldn’t put up an invisible wall between the two of you anymore, not today. 

You sigh, taking the empty seat right next to him. 

“We can’t go back to how things were. We broke up, remember?” 

“I know,” he grumbles, taking a sip of his beverage. He shook his head, his drunken state making it almost impossible to focus his thoughts or his vision. “But maybe drinking will make me forget that we ever did. Maybe tonight I can pretend we’re still together,” his voice and face etched with sorrow.

His voice trailed off, followed by another long sip of his drink. 

“You need to quit drinking yourself into a stupor, Satoru. This isn’t healthy,” you responded, voice softening out of concern. 

His eyes still clouded with alcohol, he looks at you before speaking. “I don’t know how to move on.” He admitted, voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to live without you. I loved you…and I still do.”

He silently weeps once and for all, crumbling before the love of his life. You didn’t know what else to say, so you settled on simply allowing his head to rest on your shoulder; you always were his favorite shoulder to cry on, after all. Wrapping an arm around him, you pet his head as you lull him. Instinctively, he envelops you into a warm embrace, face burying itself deeper into your chest. 

As he continued to sob like a baby, the sorcerer allowed his emotions to flow freely – months of bottling them up into liquor bottles had finally caught up to him. 

He was beyond ecstatic underneath all the melancholy; not only had you allowed him to get closer to you, but even went as far as hugging him too. He couldn't believe it. Just a few moments ago, you were talking about forcing him to move on, but now – you were actually back in his arms, where you belonged.

He felt relieved for a moment, almost to the point where he wasn't thinking properly anymore. You were finally back in his arms, where you needed to be; he refused to let go.

It felt like a fever dream, but this was all he needed. Even if you’re gone, morning come, he’ll live in this moment for the rest of eternity. 

#✰ gojodagoat is online #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru angst #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #jjk gojo #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satorugojo

[st4rreid]

well behaved padawan

mdni 18+

summary: you had been acting in like a brat all day, pushing Anakin to his limits until he had enough.

warnings: smutty smut smut, fem/ afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, swearing, p in v, power imbalance, edging/ orgasm denial, praise, degradation, teeny bit of aftercare, creampie, probably more but i’m tired.

A/N: iz actually posting for once??? drinking wine brings out the whore in me so i was possessed to write this.

wc: 1.5k

You know Anakin prefers a compliant padawan, pounding you into submission when the council smites him, or when missions don’t go exactly how he wants. Every now and again however, you can’t help but to act out, and get under that pretty tanned skin of his, and that’s exactly what you had been doing all day, rolling your eyes and sighing when he spoke, dragging your feet as you walked behind him through the temple, making lousy blocks when he lifted his saber at you in training.

Truthfully you didn’t know why you were in such a bratty mood, but you reasoned that you had just been too well behaved as of late and he should have to put in some work for once.

You knew when he pulled you into his quarters he’d be making you sorry for your actions.

"What's wrong Ani?" you purred, running your hands through his hair and tugging gently. “I know we’ve had a long day.”

Anakin's eyes darkened with desire. Almost always, he would take charge, but today, after your behavior he had something a little extra in mind. He sensed a challenge in your eyes, a playful sparkle that hinted at trouble.

"Get off me, brat," he growled, his hands going to grip at your thighs. "You know very well that your behavior today warrants a punishment.”

"Aw, come on, Ani," you cooed, leaning forward so that your nipples brushed against his chest. "I just want to make you feel good. Isn't that what good girls do?"

With a swift move, Anakin pushed you onto the bed, caging you between his arms. "Not this time, little slut. This time, I want you to beg. Beg me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

A mischievous glint met your eyes, your inner brat bubbling back to the surface. "Oh, really? And what if I don't want to?" You pushed him away, "Maybe I'll just go find someone else to scratch this itch. Obi-wan looked really really good toda-" *smack* you were interrupted by a harsh backhand across your face, head careering to the right.

Anakin's eyes narrowed, his possessiveness bubbling to the surface. "Oh, you think you can play that game, do you?" He closed the gap between you, his tall, muscular frame intimidating, yet incredibly attractive. "You forget who's in charge here, princess."

"Who's in charge?" you taunted, cheek stinging, yet not quite ready to submit. "I don't see anyone in charge here except me. And right now, I'm feeling very much in control."

Anakin's gaze darkened, and you could see the desire burning in his eyes. He placed his hands on your waist, tugging closer. "You want to play it that way, huh? Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you when it becomes too much for you.”

"You like being a naughty girl, don't you? Teasing me, playing with fire. Well, let's see how well you handle it."

You gasped as he pinned you against the wall, his mouth crashing down on yours in a hungry kiss. You melted into him, your brattish façade slipping as your need for him took over. His kiss was demanding, possessive, and it sent shivers down your spine.

His hands roamed your body, removing your robes as well as his as he went, cupping your breasts, tugging at your nipples, making you whimper into his mouth. Then, sliding his hand down your stomach, to the apex of your thighs, his fingers seeking the heat of your sopping core.

"Somebody's wet baby? It’s pathetic, like she’s crying for me, huh?" he crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "Did thinking about being a bad girl turn you on? Did you touch yourself, imagining it was my hand between your legs?"

you whimpered, head falling back as his fingers teased your clit. "No... I... I wanted you," you gasped, your body thrumming with need.

"Wanted me, huh?" Anakin said, his voice hoarse with desire. "Well, you’re gonna have to wait a little longer first ok? I can’t go around rewarding bad behavior.”

With that, he swept you off your feet and carried you to the bed, his eyes smoldering with a mixture of lust and dominance.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed he placed you, stomach down across his legs, hands roaming the curves of your ass. “Count.” he spat.

Feeling brave you rushed to start counting, before he could hand you the intended punishment. “one, two, three, fo- fuck!” you shrieked the painful stinging being more than you anticipated. “Feel like behaving yet?” he questions, and you can practically feel the smug smirk he's sure to have. You shake your head and let out a tiny “nuh-uh” that comes out more as a whimper as tears start to prickle at your lash line.

He raises his hand again and you tense in anticipation, needy hole clenching as he delivers another equally as mean smack. “T-two” you choke out, tears now freely falling down your face and onto the plush mattress beneath you. “There's my good girl again” Anakin coos, letting his dominant exterior fade for just a second as he strokes the reddened flesh.

His dominance quickly returns to the surface, as he delivers an ever so slightly softer hit to your hind. “Three” you sob, knuckles turning white as you clench your little fists together.

“Two more, pretty girl. You can do that for me right?” he croons, amused by how a few good spanks can completely dissolve your bratty display. You whimper a little “yes” between deep breaths to prepare yourself for the next one.

“Four!” you cry, cursing under your breath. Not wanting to delay any further, Anakin delivers the last firm hit to you. “Fuck-five!” you shout relieved that the onslaught of spankings was over.

Anakin soothes his hands over the new marks he had left, thoroughly enjoying his own handywork.

"Now, be a good girl, get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me," he said, his voice low and husky.

Your bratty exterior had completely melted away, replaced by a needy, wanton whore. you did as you were told, spreading your legs wide, exposing your sopping pussy to him.

Anakin's eyes devoured the sight before him. "Such a pretty sight," he growled, positioning himself at your entrance, tip grazing your soaked folds. "You ready for me, baby?"

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. "Please, Anakin. I need you. Now."

With one swift thrust, he entered you, bottoming out. You cried out, in short broken gasps, your legs twitching as you took his whole length, the stretch was uncomfortable, but not entirely unpleasant, and almost completely eclipsed by the satisfaction of being so full. He began to move, his hips snapping as he plunged in and out of your tight heat.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groaned, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs as he pounds into you. “Your tight little pussy was made for my cock."

You moaned, your nails digging into his shoulders as pleasure coursed through you. "Please... right there... Oh God!"

His thrusts became more urgent, his body slick with sweat as he drove into you again and again. Your hips bucking up to meet his in perfect synchronicity. The room was filled with the sounds of your combined passion—the slapping of skin, ragged breaths combined, and your moans of pleasure.

"I'm close... so close," you panted, your body tensing as an orgasm built within the pit of your stomach.

With the admission of your impending orgasm, Anakin’s hips stilled, that cocky, knowing smirk plastered on his face. “Hm I don’t know baby.” he croons “I still haven’t forgotten your insolence.”

Your chin started to wobble. Tormented by his throbbing cock still buried deep within, angry red tip weeping inside.

“‘m sorry! Please, just let me!” you cried out, thick, hot tears sliding down your face.

He resumes his movements, this time deliciously slow, allowing you to feel every vein along his length. “Are you going to misbehave again like you did today?” he smirks, knowing he’s got you exactly where he wants; a whiny mess, broken and needy.

You shake your head, tears freely flowing down your face, “ ‘m not, no. never again.” you grip onto him tighter, surely leaving little crescent marks, on the taught skin of his shoulders.

“Promise me baby, y’know I hate not giving you what you want” liar, he’s found this process entirely satisfying, but he doesn't want you to know that yet, not when you've taken his condescension so sweetly.

“Please Ani, i- I promise.” with your verbal pledge he kisses away the sweetly salty tears coating your face before returning to pound into you.

"Cum for me, baby," Anakin growled, his voice thick with his own desire. "Let me feel that tight pussy milking my cock."

Your body shook as an intense orgasm ripped through you, walls clenching tightly around his shaft. "Anakin! Oh fuck!"

Feeling your orgasm, Anakin let go, his own release crashing over him. "Fuuuck!" he grunted, his hips stuttering as he filled you with his hot sticky cum.

Collapsing onto you, he kissed you deeply, their sweaty bodies still joined together. "Gods, baby," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. You hazily smiled, still vibrating from the intensity of your orgasm. “You’re all sweaty Ani, and heavy. We need to shower.” Anakin hummed, still not ready to move “just five minutes like this princess.”

#hayden christensen #anakin skywalker #rots anakin #anakin smut #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #clone wars anakin #anakin drabble #anakin x padawan #anakin fanfiction #sw anakin

[ghoulsbounty]

can you make a fic abt baby billy and like being one of his wives or like when he's on the run from tiff idrk depends on what you want to do

A Fall From Grace

Uncle Baby Billy Freeman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Baby Billy comes seeking comfort, and you are always willing to shoulder the burden.

Warnings: smut (18+), backshot, cum eating (kinda), p in v, alluding to an affair, mentions of religious beliefs relating to the show, angst, alcohol, smoking, emotional hurt/comfort, reader pining for baby billy, dejection.

Word Count: 1.7K

A/N: Anon and anon, thank you for requesting that I write for this emotionally stunted baby man. I love him, I love the show, and the world needs Baby Billy fics! This is set before he is with Tiff (because I love her.) I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

You longed to utter the words, to express disbelief at finding yourself in this familiar game of cat and mouse once more. But honesty was a luxury you couldn't afford, not when your conscience was already weighed down by a litany of sins. Each lie added to the burden, and you couldn't bear to heap more upon your soul.

There was a time, not so long ago, you walked the path of life with a sense of purpose and righteousness. Like any devout believer, you diligently carried out God's will, spreading His word among the neighbours of Pumpkintown. But then, on a scorching summer's day, destiny led you through Freeman's Gap, where you found yourself standing at his doorstep. From that moment, everything changed.

Baby Billy, with his irresistible charm and captivating façade, swiftly drew you into his intricate web of deception. His presence cast a shadow over your once-virtuous existence, blurring the boundaries between right and wrong. In his company, your convictions faltered, and the very essence of your faith began to erode. Slowly but surely, he transformed you from a devout Christian into a mere echo of your former self.

No matter how many times you had promised yourself that this would be the last time, that you wouldn't let it happen again, it all amounted to more lies to add to the growing list. When he reappeared in your life after an eighteen-month absence, you were poised to slam the door shut in his face. But he possessed a silver tongue that could persuade the sun to set twice.

So here you were, pressed face down against the mattress, your skin glistening with sweat as he drove into you from behind. This was your preferred position; it prevented him from gazing at you with adoration, as if you were the centre of his universe, while he consumed every inch of your being. It made it easier to bear his departure after he was done with you, when he didn't linger. The ache in your chest always remained, but your time with Baby Billy had made you realize that you were nothing if not resilient.

Your gaze lingered on the half-empty bottle of gin perched on the bedside table. It was his customary offering, always referred to as your favourite. Whether it truly held that distinction was a matter of uncertainty, but you always accepted it. Flowers and chocolate might have softened the edges of your encounters with him, but they could never dull the sharp pang of inevitable loss you’d feel when he returned to whichever-number wife he was on.

"I'll accept the bottle, but not the intent," you would murmur each time he presented it, extending the gesture like an olive branch. His eyes would gleam with anticipation, tinged with a hint of apprehension, as he waited to be welcomed in. How many lies had you accumulated by now?

More than you cared to count. This self-proclaimed righteous man of God would lead you to the depths of hell itself if it meant avoiding solitude, and you would willingly follow. That was the truth.

"Haven't lost you now, have I?" His voice snapped you out of your trance, his hips grinding against your backside with a fervour that seemed desperate to anchor you to him.

Clutching the sheets tightly, your knuckles turned white as you shook your head. "I'm here, Baby Billy."

He chuckled, his hands gripping the flesh of your hips as he pulled back slightly before thrusting back in with force. Your walls tightened around him, drawing out the most obscene moans from his lips as he maintained an unfaltering rhythm.

"You're always here for Baby Billy," he remarked with a hint of satisfaction. "You're a good girl."

The words ignited a surge of conflicting emotions within you, sending sparks flying through your mind. Somewhere deep within, a wire seemed to short circuit, and you found yourself instinctively grinding your hips back against him, matching his movements.

"Damn," he sighed, his voice heavy with gratification, as one hand dropped to your front. His fingers traced along your wet folds until he found the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a high-pitched wail from your lips. "Well, if that ain't the prettiest thing I've ever heard."

His other hand released your hip, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you against his sticky chest. The new position drove him deeper, your head leaning back against his shoulder in the crook of his neck as he slowed to a heavy grind. His fingers continued their expert ministrations on your clit, tracing familiar circles, while his other hand left your hair to grab harshly at your breast, pinching your nipple just as he knew you liked.

"Let me see you now," he panted. You hadn't realized you'd squeezed your eyes shut until he slapped your clit with an open palm, causing you to flinch against him, and when you opened them, he was looking down at you with those hazel eyes that sucked you in every time. "There she is. Tell Baby Billy what you want from him."

He always did this, despite your attempts to bury your face into the mattress to hide from what you were doing with him. He always found a way to make you look at him, to confront your demons and tell him what you desired most from him. It was as if he couldn't let you come out of this unscathed, regardless of his claims that he needed you right there with him.

He didn't truly need you, not in the sense of wanting you for anything more than warming his cock and easing the burden of the life he had created for himself. You were a distraction from the suffering he had caused, never once caring for your own.

You wished you could refuse him. In every other aspect of your life, you were strong, but when it came to Baby Billy Freeman, your resolve wavered with just one look. Perhaps it was the underlying desperation he always seemed to exude, making you feel sorry for him, as if you were providing a service by temporarily alleviating his misery. Eventually, you stopped trying to make sense of it, allowing it to happen and taking from it what you wanted, what you needed.

"I want to cum," you breathed against the skin of his neck, then remembered what he always liked to hear. "Please, Baby Billy."

The familiar tightening in your stomach signalled your impending climax, and he seemed to sense it too, his movements growing more urgent as your walls fluttered around him, drawing him deeper with each thrust. His fingers worked faster against your clit, pushing you closer to the edge. Your eyes rolled back as your orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing against his as you cried out into the silence of the bedroom.

He grunted, continuing to thrust into you through your orgasm, your walls milking him as you pulsed around him. Your body went limp as the last surge of electricity shot through you, and he tossed you back onto the mattress to reach his own release. A few more thrusts, then you felt the tell-tale stutter of his hips before he withdrew completely, leaving your pussy feeling empty and used. The sound of your juices squelching around him filled the room as he used them to pleasure himself, pumping once, twice before finally cumming hard onto your ass with a shout of release.

You laid there, your sweaty face pressed against the sticky cotton sheet as you slowly grounded yourself back to reality. He panted above you, running a finger over the curves of your ass, scooping his release from you before bringing it to your mouth. You accepted it, your tongue swirling around his finger, lips closing around him as you sucked the salty mixture and swallowed it down. It was a habit he enjoyed, claiming that if he couldn't cum inside you, he at least wanted to ensure you received what he was giving in some way. It had become a routine you found yourself needing more than you cared to admit.

He withdrew his finger, delivering a sharp slap to your ass before rising from the bed. The mattress groaned with his movement, and you lay still as he carried out his next habitual task. Moments later, he returned, a lit cigarette between his lips and a wet cloth in his hand as he gently cleaned off the evidence of his release from your behind before tossing it onto the bedside table with a wet thwack. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned over you with an arm resting on the mattress. You turned onto your back underneath him, running your fingers over his forearm as he looked down at you.

"Don't look at me like that," you said, tracing patterns through the hair on his arm.

"Like what, angel?" he asked, his voice tinged with amusement as he brought the cigarette to your lips. You took a drag before he reclaimed it, exhaling slowly as your eyes met his.

"Like you might love me," you whispered.

He chuckled, briefly glancing away before returning his gaze to you. "Maybe I do."

Once, you believed you loved him, back when you were still innocent to the manipulative games he played and your part in it all. But that belief didn't last long; you soon learned to shut it out, along with the company of men who weren't him.

"Right girl, wrong time," he had once told you, but you quickly learned that the right time would never come.

For Baby Billy, love wasn't in the equation. It soon became clear that he merely enjoyed the possession of you. You were like an old toy to him, tossed aside until he desired to play with you again. Your emotions, your needs, they were secondary to his whims, serving only to satisfy his fleeting desires.

Baby Billy Freeman didn't love you, he loved having you.

He would depart soon, leaving you with uncertainty about when you would see him again. Yet, deep down, you knew he would return. He always did, seeking refuge in your presence to distract himself from the harsh realities of his life. And you would be there for him, as you always were.

Because unfortunately, somewhere along the way of Baby Billy using you like a drug, you had become addicted yourself.

#uncle baby billy #uncle baby billy x reader #baby billy x reader #the righteous gemstones #walton goggins #baby billy freeman #baby billy freeman x reader #fic request #uncle baby billy smut #baby billy smut

[drabblesandsnippets]

Drabble #5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus-size female character (unnamed)

Background: Continuation of Drabble #2 and #3

Summary: After making his girlfriend ride his face, Bucky slows things down, despite her obvious need for more.

Warnings: 18+ Only. Explicit sexual content. Domination. Teasing. Masturbation. 

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

Bucky barely lets her recover before he’s rolling them over, settling on top of her, letting her feel how hard she makes him. He swears he’s been hard and aching for her since she left for her trip, no amount of fantasizing about her able to give him any sort of relief. So now that she’s finally home, where she belongs, he’s not letting her out of his sight anytime soon.

She’s still sensitive from her orgasm, but she doesn’t care. She’s desperate to feel him inside of her after spending weeks apart and she moans against his mouth, eagerly meeting him in a passionate kiss, grinding herself against him, her body trembling underneath him. He’s already made her come twice - once by her own hand in the backseat of his car on their way home, and then again with his mouth - and all she can think about is having his cock inside of her, fucking her until she’s sore.

But he’s still refusing to let her touch him, and she lets out a whine of frustration when his fingers quickly wrap around her wrist to stop her from freeing his cock from his underwear. Before she can protest, he pulls back and looks down at her, their bodies still flush, moving slowly against each other, making her breath hitch.

“I missed you so much,” he tells her, letting go of her hand to run his fingers along her jaw, taking in all the subtle reactions to his touch. The flutter of her eyelashes, the slight twitch of her hips, the pulse of arousal he feels against his cock. “Missed everything about you,” he murmurs, closing the distance once again to kiss her, his lips brushing across hers before moving along her cheek.

Bucky’s tenderness is a stark contrast to what her body is craving right now. He’s supposed to be fucking her senseless, making her forget her own name. It’s been weeks of promises and playful threats of what he was going to do to her once she got home. But, now he’s teasing her, driving her wild, and she’s already past the point of wanting to beg.

He can read her so easily, and just as her mouth opens, he wraps his hand around her throat, silencing her, reminding her who’s in charge - in charge of her, her body, her pleasure. Bucky groans at the expected reaction, her hips lifting, seeking out more friction, but it doesn’t deter him. “Shhh,” he tells her, a soft smile on his face. He knows exactly what he’s doing to her. “I’ve been thinking about this moment for weeks, Princess. Don’t rush me.”

She whines softly, the tone of his voice sending a burst of pleasure straight to her clit, and for a brief moment she considers pushing back. The inner brat in her wanting to come out to play. But, that’ll only prolong his teasing - something she definitely can’t handle right now.

Bucky watches as she forces herself to breathe slowly and he immediately rewards her, grinding himself harder against her pussy, the length of his cock sliding along her clit. “Good girl.” Her appreciative moan is met with one of his own and it takes everything in him not to reach down to remove the last bit of clothing separating them, wanting to finally feel her wrapped around him. 

Instead, he gives her one last kiss, his tongue slowly sliding along hers as his fingers possessively twitch against her neck. Then he suddenly pulls away, the loss of him making her gasp, a look of confusion crossing her face as she watches him climb off the edge of the bed. Without thinking, she quickly starts to sit up, reaching out for him, but then he’s shaking his head at her, the grin on his face growing, “Uh uh. Stay there.” 

She complies without hesitation, her body buzzing with pleasure at his order, letting herself fall backwards, but not without groaning softly in frustration. How can he be so calm when she feels like she’s being driven insane with lust. Bucky laughs, still shaking his head at her. She has no idea how hard it is for him not to crawl back on that bed and give her exactly what she wants. 

His entire body is tense with need, his thoughts consumed with how good she feels, but it’s been so long, and he knows the moment he buries himself inside of her, he’s not going to last long. He needs more time to appreciate her, to worship her, to show her just how much he missed her.

Bucky watches her from the foot of the bed, an audible groan leaving him when she spreads her legs wider, trying to entice him, letting him see just how wet she is. All for him. The smile on his face fades slightly and his eyes darken as he reaches to remove his underwear, finally letting his cock spring free, the head slick with his arousal. 

Just as his hand wraps around his thick shaft, he groans in pleasure, telling her, “Touch yourself for me.” His vibranium hand reaches out to grab the corner post of the bed, steadying himself when she does exactly as she’s told. One hand playing with her tits, pinching her nipple, while her other hand settles between her thighs, her fingers working over her clit quickly. 

While his eyes roam over her entire body, enjoying the view of her delicious pussy, her beautiful breasts, her flushed face, her own gaze drifts to his cock. She can’t tear her eyes away, watching as his hand makes lazy strokes, the sight of him so hard for her quickly building her towards another orgasm. 

But, she doesn’t want to come again, not without his cock inside of her. She doesn’t fight it yet though, allowing herself to get closer to the edge, Bucky talking her through it, his voice rough with desire, his own hand occasionally pausing to stave off his own orgasm. And just when her body starts to tense, her breath quick and uneven, she arches her back and whines his name, begging him to fuck her.

Bucky’s hand grips the bedpost almost hard enough to break it, the sound of his name making his balls tighten, pleasure shooting up his spine. “Fuck,” he groans, his body moving on its own accord, joining her on the bed to kneel between her thighs before he even realizes it. She begs him again, pleading with him to please fuck her, to make her come on his cock. And for just a moment, he considers giving in.

But then his hand reaches out to grab her throat again, pinning her to the bed, the look on his face telling her she’s misbehaving. “I thought I told you not to rush me,” he growls, raising his brow at her, the slight twitch of her body causing his fingers to tighten slightly. “Keep it up and the only hole I’ll be fucking tonight is that pretty mouth of yours.”

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

Part 1

Part 2

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky x plus size reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfiction #bucky smut #sebastian stan

[silentium-symphony]

A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) hey ya'll! i'm so sorry for going MIA for a few months--as some of you may know, I have just recently graduated from college, so there are a lot of big changes happening in my life right now! i appreciate your continued patience with me :) this fic was commissioned by the lovely @mistressofdeathsblog! thank you for giving me such a fun prompt, I had a lot of fun trying smth new and I hope you enjoy it too!

before you start reading, please take special note of the cw below. also, please remember that this is not a healthy relationship you want to emulate and is written for the sole purpose of entertainment. if you are in a relationship that strips your autonomy and you feel unsafe bringing this issue up to the offending party/parties, please reach out to someone you trust. there is no power in staying if there is no freedom to leave. stay safe out there.

and ofc, since this is smut, minors do not interact with this piece.

cw: dubcon, afab!reader, ooc!link since i highly doubt Hylia's Hero would be so life-alteringly possessive of their lover, tp!link, reader being chased, reader being held against their will, blood, tight spaces, swearing, name-calling, dumbification kinda??, cunnilingus, doggy, mirror/standing sex

wc: 5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Sweat and blood dribbled down your forehead, stinging your eyes with a salty, metallic bite. Thorn-kissed hands grasped and blindly waded through thick patches of bramble. The dark, bristling whips that surrounded you worked every exposed piece of skin into a raw, bloody mess quivering from the forest's cruelty.

You couldn't care less.

The birds overhead guffawed at your efforts as splotches of pale moon danced mockingly, titillatingly along the cold earth. You chased every moon patch with the frenzy of an escaped convict a morning away from freedom.

Because that's what you were, really.

The beginnings and ends of thoughts knotted and frayed into each other, flurrying your head into a cohesive garble. Just how big was this forest? It looked like a sprawling mess from the fortress you were locked up in, but it was absolutely impenetrable now that you were in the thick of it. It was as if the very woods were enchanted to keep you from ever escaping.

A ring of pain hooked the topside of your foot, propelling all of your momentum downwards and towards the forest floor. You couldn't even scream before you bashed your cheek through a thin layer of crusted mud. The cold soil caked your flushed cheeks--the only shred of relief you've felt since your mad sprint to freedom.

Your spine slinked up into a curl--a pathetic attempt to get up, to begin your chase again, but your battered body refused to endure further abuse. (E/C) eyes flitted about you, trying to interpret the shadows that danced and weaved through the trees.

Running in this state would be pointless. You dug your forearms and elbows to crawl towards an ivy overhang that promised hidden refuge and curled into as tight of a ball you could muster. The silky white dress he gifted you had been ripped past recognition. The airy fabric that once brushed your ankles now clung tightly to your blood-laced thighs, soiled from the toils of flight. You pulled your legs closer; your lungs fought for precious breath against your pounding heart.

What a shame. If only it weren't beating so fast, you might have heard the crack of a single twig located too close for comfort.

From several paces into the unseen was a pair of blue eyes misted over with sinful hunger; your quivering, shorn form was scintillating to watch and feasted his mind with imaginations more heart-racing than the last. Your blood, sweat, and tears mixing with your natural scent proved to be the most tantalizing olfactory cocktail, scattering his thoughts into overdrive.

He hated the rush he got from seeing you like this--lost and confused without his guidance through these nested thorns, yearning for warmth and safety he knew he could provide (and had been providing since you stumbled into his castle that fateful day).

Why did you leave him? Was he not enough for you? But he'd given you everything! Everything! Freshly made home-cooked meals, tailored clothes that hugged your form, a bed warmed by him, his body...

He could still feel the soft plush of your flesh sinking and dimpling in his hands as he thrust into you with the faux tenderness of a starved man. Your beautiful eyes locked with his own, only leaving to disappear into the back of your head. Your mouth agape to let the cutest sounds escape...

If you were happy with him, why were you leaving him?

Not waking up to your face smooshed into his pillows, not beholding you in all the pretty silk and ribbons he had lying around, not fucking you in every position you could possibly think of, not spending every waking moment with you...

Why, he'd rather die.

If it made you happy, he'd allow the ambrosial drippings of freedom to bead your lips.

If it made you happy, he'd let you delude yourself into thinking you were far enough from the castle to be away from him.

But only for now. Link prided himself on his chivalry and patience, but even that was growing thin from your incessant attempts of escape. He was going to have to show you why it was such a good idea to stay here with him, forever and ever and ever.

You were nodding off now, it seemed. The way your head kept dipping and rising in a futile attempt to stay wary was so adorable, he just had to ravish you right then and there! He had barely managed to stave off his intrusive thoughts as he stalked closer to you, still clinging closely to the dark cloak that hung off twisted branches.

You saw something shift from the corner of your eye; your neck snapped up and a croak clawed out of you.

"Who's there?!"

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Why was it so quiet?

Had it always been so quiet?

Where have the birds gone?

A familiar silhouette emerged from the trees.

"L-... Link..." Your throat, parched and scratched from heaving the cold night air, rang a voice unfamiliar to you.

Azure eyes that once beheld you with all the love in the world now stare back with deadpan coldness. Words need not be exchanged here; his presence alone blew any hope of escape in the next breeze that ruffled his fur.

A calculated step towards you retreated you further into your little alcove, a prayer that the ivy could take you in as one of its own on your lips. There was no telling what he was thinking, or how close to the edge he was. But that look, that hunger.

That familiar, craved look your body knew too well pulsed anxious tingles through your fingertips.

Another step.

Then another.

Another.

Finally,

He was here.

You could feel him, all of him--his hot breath against your arms, his fur bristling against your thigh, his warmth freezing your blood where it ran. You hadn't realized how much you were shaking until you heard the rhythmic shifting of ivy buzzing into your ear.

He pressed his head into your lap, prying you open to make way for him. And you sat there, obeying him like the perfect little doe you were. As he lazily dragged a tongue across your thigh, lapping at the dried blood that crusted your flesh, he looked up. Relief, adoration, love. That stifling comforting, possessive protective obsession love that he had so readily wrapped you in the moment he met you. For a moment, he looked like a lamb in wolf's clothing.

So many thoughts swirled inside you, your brain numbing to prevent overstimulation. But amongst the chaos, a single thought backdropped every complicated emotion you were feeling.

He had found you.

Had it not been for the blood drumming through your ears and temples, you would have thought time had frozen in this purgative state. He was splayed atop you now, seeming to rest from his hours-long stalking; he wasn't crushing you, but it was clear he had all the control in this dynamic. Any undesirable shift away from him, to preserve your own personhood, would most certainly have led to a 'gentle' nudge toward him.

A single cobalt eye lazily cracked open after a million years ticked by. His piercing gaze, though fringed with some life, made it abundantly clear that your race to freedom was placed at an indefinite standstill. He had never once snapped at you, but the fear lodged in your chest informed you not to test him further.

He hauled himself up, joints locked from inactivity popping to life as he arched into a long stretch. His carefree pose hinted at obliviousness--borderline forgiveness--to your impertinence, but you knew better.

Link never forgets.

He eyed you again with a sort of child-like excitement that twisted your gut into a sickening pattern. His tail arced to and fro, painting his excitement in broad strokes. He wedged his snout between the small of your back and the wall and firmly pushed you forward, scooting you a couple inches toward your prison home.

You knew better than to anger him.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Link's skillful navigation through the thorns was unimpeded by your clinging onto him. It had taken hours to get to where you once were, but a quarter of that time for the wolf. The gloomy castle you had called your home for months (years?) broadened into view until you could clearly see its spires puncture through occasional clouds. The moon, basking in its celestial sovereignty, jeered at your return.

Link slipped through a tiny crack in the iron-clad door, made by the wolf confident in its tracking and retrieving abilities. You slugged off him with practiced movements; a sound akin to obscene magic asundering flesh preluded your captor's transformation. Grisly black fur gave way to sand-blonde hair; the worn, patchwork shirt which heralded his humble beginnings as a rancher ran taut against the back you had spent several minutes clambering onto.

He continued looking ahead unblinkingly as you idled a few paces behind him, your chest constricting and mind frenzying with murky anticipation. Your nerves, frayed from adrenaline and brain-altering fear, now swam in the heavy nothingness of silence; you were a breath away from weeping before a tenor tone disturbed the still.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Silently, you both moved through the halls, paying the torchlit shadows the special type of attention one gave to the mundane in moments choked with awkwardness. Worn, freshly torn hands bunched the hem of your dress until your knuckles whitened. A part of you wished to never reach your destination, preferring thickened stillness over the unpredictable inevitable. You rounded a familiar corner and gathered the shreds of your sanity to brace yourself for whatever may come.

The sullen wooden door gave way to the man's heave and you followed him in. A large bathroom decorated only with the essentials filled your view. As Link ran the faucet, your eyes absently glazed over the rickety plumbing he had installed to transport hot spring water to the tub. For the first time since his transformation, he turned to you.

"Strip."

His clear, authoritative tone cut sharper than any thorn that had shredded you. Eyes downcast, your fingers wrought the straps of your dress further, further down your shoulders. Your skin burned from your clammy fingers; you blamed it on the steam that had begun filling the corners of the room and ignored the heavy, heated stare placed on you by the male.

Link followed your dawdling, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it to reveal a stomach sculpted by years of farm work and adventuring. The straps of your dress coiled close to your elbows before settling by your ankles. Your hands immediately scattered to cover your exposed parts as Link finished undressing himself, his fully erect length blurred by warm mists and (eventually) a deftly wrapped towel.

He reached over to squeak the faucet shut; the comforting, monotonous lull of running water now halted to scant droplets. After pulling out the small basket of rags and soap, he sat on a bar stool and beckoned you with a lone finger.

"Come here. You're filthy."

You shuffled out of the shredded dress and forward, keeping your eyes trained on the end of the tub where he sat.  The wanton desire for a hot bath waived your concerns over the situation, dulling your fears enough to throw a leg over the edge and sink everything but the top half of your face below the water.

The warm panacea cloaked you in an elixir of ease, and a satisfied groan unintentionally lapsed your lips; your hand figuratively slapped over your mouth when the air honeyed into something...

Sinful.

Link dipped a small bucket into the bathwater and slowly poured it over your head, calloused fingers expertly combing through knotted, crusted strands. The hardened skin tenderly brushing the back of your neck jolted heated memories to the forefront of your mind.

You could still feel the harsh, almost desperate grip laced in your hair as he pounded you from behind, panting sweet promises to give you more for the rest of your lives. Your face, buried in his pillows, blindly nodded along to the specifics of what he had said, your mind too blurred to focus on much else aside from your umpteenth high of the night.

The warm water felt like a cold deluge and a noticeable shiver ran through you. Soapy hands stopped caressing your scalp.

"(F/N)?"

"H-Huh?"

"How about we play a little game?" Link murmured suddenly, absently twirling your locks in his fingertips. Had it not been for the taut fingers interweaved through your hair, your surprise would have been more apparent.

"What... What game?"

"A little game similar to hide-n-seek." He started languidly, as if savoring every vowel that lisped his tongue. "If you can evade my capture until dawn, I will guide you to the forest's edge so you may leave. However..."

Rough fingerpads traced up the side of your bicep as darkened ears caught your quiet, involuntary gasp.

"If I catch you... You're mine. Deal?"

Throat tightening and heart palpitating, your mind fought to keep its last ounce of calm as your captor's hand circled to your front to cusp and knead your--

"What's the catch?" You breathed, somehow managing to divert your attention away from Link's sinful reaches.

"There is no catch, but there are rules." He pecked your cheek, his lips curving into a soft smile that thinly veiled iller intents.

"You are allowed to hide anywhere in the castle grounds and use whatever means necessary to hide from me, so long as neither of us gets seriously injured... The moment you step foot in that forest, I will claim you where you stand. Is that fair?"

Was this a trick?

A sick joke meant to dangle tonight's failure in your face?

Surely it was... But what if it wasn't?

His steady stare that peered shamelessly through your soul conveyed a degree of seriousness and sincerity required to make a truthful statement.

"How do I know that you won't go back on your word?"

"I have never lied to you." He gritted his teeth. "Can you say the same?"

The genuine hurt masking his eyes ached your chest, but the tiniest shred of dignity you had left netted the apology that almost escaped your mouth.

"Is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?"

"No. I have told you everything you need to know and will uphold my end of the deal. The final decision is yours."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Moonlight masqueraded through the gaping windows, streaking drab grey pillars with hints of alabaster. The halls which you have called home for what felt like time immemorial now crowded your vision with a foreign bite, sinking into your flesh an unnerving uncertainty around every corner.

Your neck swiveled on all axes, one eye trained in front of you and the other separating the benign from foe that hid in every dancing shadow. Bare feet pattering against olden stone filled the gaps in between each racing heart beat, drumming your ears in a never-ending symphony of chase.

Legs aching, quaking, begging for proper rest are promptly ignored, outcompeted by the more urgent matter at hand.

Your final gambit for freedom.

You cursed under your breath as you ascended a spiraling staircase, your lungs burning with the rage of a thousand suns from heaving in the cold, arid air. The stone floor kissed knicks into the soles of your feet as you skidded around a corner and madly dashed down the hall, shifting down a narrow crawlspace that branched off from the main hall.

Whispered hisses and curses bounced off the tightening walls as rough-hewn stone jagged into your skin, reopening recently closed wounds from the brambles. You could only pray that Link was far enough away to not pick up on freshly streaked blood.

A familiar carpet--the one from the main hall--filled your view and you slowed your shimmying into a momentary pause. You fought to see through your grimace to peer around the corner and hoped that your heart wasn't beating loud enough to mask the signs of your stalker.

All good...?

You scooted out of that uncomfortable position and ducked towards the exit.

The private gardens opened up to you. Trails of ivy found residence in the cracked grey of decayed walls and the fountain was spewing the most delicious water your parched throat had ever seen. You circled the mini courtyard, your frenzied mind shunting the garden's haunting aesthetics in search of a practical hiding place. To your right was the more open space of the main courtyard, and to your left were the untrimmed topiaries of Hyrulian heroes commemorated only in flora.

Streaks of morning were just beginning to tip the horizon.

Your feet teetered toward the right, but a certain non-human shadow slinked past the threshold. All color drained from your pallor as you scurried around the topiary's wide base and hid behind the cloister's stone pillar. The sounds of flesh ripping and reanimating shot through the air; tears began to freely flow as a carefree whistle ambled closer to you.

"My, my... It's almost daybreak. I must find my beloved soon, or else I'll lose her forever."

The sky was just beginning to tinge a magenta-red.

"Is she... Hiding by the door?"

Boots clicking against stone rang like a departed's dirges. Your clammy fingers dug into the side of your face--a feeble attempt to muffle your whimpering.

"Is she... Behind these topiaries? No? Hm... But I'm getting close, aren't I, (F/N)?"

All strength, all hope, had been sapped from your body; your knees locked and buckled.

"Oh? Have we always had a little walkway back here? What a wonderful surprise! I know my darling would love it here."

Your vision darkened.

Leather nestled softly into your face as the heat of another poured and mingled with the cold stone pressed to your back.

"Guess who?" He sang.

You felt all your muscles simultaneously release their tension; your legs folded in on themselves, but secure arms hooked them under and hoisted you bridal style.

As you were carted inside the dark fortress, the morning sun greeted you in its soft-rayed glory.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The stale castle air flooded your lungs as your body was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. A hand tightened around your wrists and hot, agitated lips locked with yours before your brain could register the cotton plush of your sheets. His other hand feathered up your thigh, learned fingers grazing all your tender spots and teasing your thoughts into a foggy mix of want.

Your figure writhed uselessly under him as he flattened you further into the bed, using his full weight to keep you pinned where he wanted. The hand that carried out its sinful ministrations below shot up to seize your cheeks. Rough fingerpads bruised the softer flesh as he craned your neck to make way for his lips, flushed with a feral red and coated with soft proclamations of domination.

"You're mine... All mine..."

Hot breaths ghosted the surface of your neck, tickling a heated whine out of you. Your needy noises hitched into a gasp when you felt moistened lips lock onto your skin, suckling and teething the flesh into discolored patches. Rich vermilion fringed with a sinful violet bloomed below your jawline, trailing down and darkening with each claim closer to your chest.

He yanked the noisome dress down, exposing all of your chest to him. The snaps of cloth ripping from its handles and the sudden whip of cold air across your most sensitive parts pierced a jolt through your body. He pulled away to admire the shades of purple and red marring your fair complexion, a visual reminder to the dust haunting old halls and courtyards lost to time that you were his, and his alone. A lone tongue swirled around an irritated bud.

Trembles quaked through you--from heated anticipation or disgust, you were unsure. He hooked his fingers back into your cheeks and pried your face to look into his own. Sky-blue eyes, which once beheld you in crinkled happiness, had dimmed into a hazy navy clouded with lust.

"So pretty... My gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Soft lips brushed your forehead, ambled down to your nose, and finally settled on your lips.

"My good girl."

Lips warmed with depraved whispers silenced around your bud. Starved suckling backdropped the more apparent whimpers scratching your throat, dredged in pleasure with a dulling edge of resistance. Scarred skin delicately cusped your mounds, tweaking and flicking your perkiness until it was a rosy red.

Your growing sensitivity stung tears into your eyes. Achy hands, now free from his grasp, grappled onto sinewy shoulders but did little to convey genuine discomfort. A deep groan purred from his chest as Link balanced your sore bud in a soft knead between his teeth. A pop filled the room.

"Let me see those eyes."

Your eyes wedged open to see blown-out blues taking all of you in. Your heart pounded a flush into your cheeks and christened an unholy flame to spread through your core.

"That's it... Now watch me..."

He dragged his body lower and lower, his eyes unwavering from yours for even a second. Steady hands balled into the collar of your dress and tore through the silk, the symphony of rips bouncing off the walls and knocking coherence out of your head. His lips matched the pace of the ragged unveiling and chased progressively exposed flesh with soft kisses, down, down, and farther down. Feverish breaths along your inner thighs sent chills up your spine.

"Watch me as I make you cum for me."

Hands gnarled from knighthood knotted into the delicate lace separating him from his prize, tearing it apart with ease.

"Link, hold--ah!"

Your eyes shot to the back of your head as your mouth gaped into a silent 'O.' An orchestra of colors, conducted by a madly indulgent maestro, symphonized into a crazed, otherworldly experience. His tongue coiled and stretched into you with the practiced precision of many amorous nights while his thumb circled the space around your clit, teasing the nub until agony. It was only a matter of time before your impassioned gasps and pleas competed with the downright sinful wetness Link lapped below.

"Tell me you love this--that you love me."

"Link, please! Just give it to me please, please, please...!" The top of your head rolled further into your pillow when the painful prick of a pinch shot too much for too short a time.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away, you filthy slut." Deft fingers plunged into you until pleasure fried your brain. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Your whines and whimpers hiccuped into full sobs for release, whistled with pleas and promises you both knew you wouldn't keep.

"You'll love me forever, right? You'll be my good lil' cock slut forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise! Please Link, just let me cum already, please!"

You damn liar.

He pulled away, coldly gazing at the weeping, quivering, gasping mess of his beloved.

"Link...? W-why did you--"

"Your heart may have forgotten, but your body remembers..."

His sweet lips, tinted with a hint of bitter longing, moved with yours in a desperate, crazed dance. Every lust-filled, haggard groan ripped from his lungs masked the quieter crack running up his heart.

The bed creaked from the sudden redistribution of your weight as he spread you on all fours. He aligned himself to your entrance and, in a single motion that he had done hundreds of times, completed you. A wail, colored in pleasure and streaked with pain, contrasted Link's blissed-out groan. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes; each droplet slipped down your cheek in time with his frenetic pounding until it had thickened into a steady stream.

He wasted no time in his pursuit for pleasure, hitching his pelvis to your ass, pulling away, and slamming back in with the gentleness of a starved wolf ripping into a lamb. His fingers dug crescents into your hips as he adjusted himself, propping one of his legs up to angle himself deeper and faster into you.

He was stretching you past your limits, and every thrust was accompanied by a heated flash of pain. Your upper half sunk towards the bed as he moved your hips higher, closer to him. Helpless (E/C)s stared at the creaking bedpost while your whitening knuckles dug through the sheets clumped in your hands. A salty mixture of tears and saliva pooled on your pillow as honeyed cries haunted your walls.

"What, is my princess not having a good time?" He jeered, reaching over to give your engorged clit a cruel flick and your ass an even crueler slap. "What does my baby want me to do to her? Huh? What do you want me to do to your tight pussy?"

"L-Link, It hurts! It's too--!"

The side of your quivering hips slammed into the mattress and forced you on your back. Your face snapped into the pillow when his writhing tongue replaced his thick cock, tonguing and lapping at your dripping pussy as if your ambrosia would be the last thing he was to taste. He pulled out and spat on your entrance, pressing his tongue flat against your pussy and swiping up towards the clit that he coiled.

"Mmph... Fuck, I love you... Give me more... Gods, give me more."

A bruising ache pressed into your hips as his frenzied circling spurred faster, faster, faster. Pleasure dizzied your senses towards a dark void; the familiar knot in your stomach that ached to unravel popped with the abrupt re-emergence of Link.

"Mm, tight as ever... How're you feeling, my dove?" He husked, ragged breaths encapsulating the shell of your ear.

"Too b-bi--Link, you're too big!"

"Shhh... You can take it. You've taken it hundreds of times. C'mon, squeeze my cock like a good girl."

"It's so--Link, you're stretching me out, I need to--"

"Not yet. I'm not done fucking you yet." He swiveled you back on all fours and pounded you into the mattress, your cries and pleas be damned. Slender fingers snarled through your tresses and strained you away from the pillows that held your screams.

"When I'm ready, I want to watch you cum all over my cock." His erratic pounding slowed for a split second, enough time for a certain thought to come and go. "I want you to see it too."

Your abused cunt finally had a moment to breathe and process; if only your brain had that same luxury.

The bed sighed a relieved groan as Link crawled out and wrapped his arms about your lower abdomen to hoist you up. When it was evident that this pathetically limp curl was the best you could do, toned forearms hooked under your knees and spread your legs in the most vulnerable position you've ever been in. With a huff, Link brought you front and center to the mirror. You both watched breathlessly as he lowered you onto his slicked cock, sinking every inch into your gummy walls.

"Fuck, you're so tight... I need you, (F/N)..."

His crazed pistoning began once more; the sensations that ransacked your body were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The tip of his cock so easily, so effortlessly rammed into your sweetest spots; every thrust he slammed into you turned you into a shamelessly shaking, overstimulated mess.

"Look at you," he hummed darkly, "look at all the sin running down your legs."

Link's voice was so far away now. The way he kept disappearing into your sopping cunt and your juices dribbling over your thighs consumed your every thought. The only tangible you could feel was the building pressure coiling in your gut, tightening with each passing second.

"So beautiful... So tight... Don't you want to do this forever? Hm? Don't you want to be ruined by me forever and ever?"

His teeth sunk into your neck, adding to the carnal collection and ripping a hoarse cry out of you.

"You're my good girl, aren't you? My good girl... You're all mine--all fucking mine."

Veins marbled his arms and forehead as he nuzzled into your neck, tongue tracing the edge of every bite. The labored grunts that occasionally wheezed out of him, along with his stuttering hips, signaled that he was teetering closer and closer to the edge. Hooded blues stared piercingly into your own, weighed down by mindless intoxication. His lips brushed a flame through the curve of your ear.

"Look at me..." He purred. "Look at me and confess your lust to me."

A shattered cry, followed by a wave of profane heat, collided with your system. Winced eyes lolled to the back of your head while you spasmed and twitched in still arms. Your violent clenching and knowledge of your release strained a guttural growl through Link's chest as he spurted his cum as deep as it could go. Thin, white threads coated your walls and trailed out your still-plugged hole until drips of sin stained the stone below.

Link tripped to the foot of the bed, his body folding into the sheets the second his foot made contact with the wooden post. With arms wrapped comfortably around you and the familiar presence of your spent lover, you passed out the moment your body recognized blissed finality.

As you commenced your near-immediate foray into the realm of dreams, a familiar voice--soft yet broken--rang through your last layer of consciousness.

"Sleep well, my dove. If eternally precarious possession is the closest thing we will ever have to love, I will gorge myself on it."

#link #link x you #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere smut #yandere x reader #yandere link x reader #link x reader #link x reader smut #loz link #loz link smut #loz link x reader #link legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #loz smut #legend of zelda smut #legend of zelda #also #FUCK THE TUMBLR APP #this shit kept deleting my edits AND POSTING THINGS WHEN I WASN'T DONE #by far the most stressful writing experience i've had bc of it l m f a o

[sodaabaa]

to flee or not to flee, part four

anthony bridgerton x OC what happens when a charming and determined viscount courts someone whose worst fear is to marry a man like him?

tropes: damsel in distress, innocent and shy mc, slow burn,

tw: mentions of domestic abuse, angst, anxiety, slight misogyny/patriarchal concepts

masterlist

“Your Grace, may I be so privileged as to take a stroll with the Duchess? I was hoping to get to know the Bridgerton family better and where best to start but with the eldest daughter?” She approached the table where the Duke of Hastings and his wife were lounging at on the terrace of Aubrey Hall overlooking the vast amount of land the family possessed. 

“Please, I only wish to be called Simon – the Duke of Hastings is a title better suited to stuffy old men, do you not think?” He joked, an easy smile on his face – although his attention returned quickly to his wife. 

“Of course! I’d be delighted to learn more about you as well, Miss Carrington” Daphne said.

Daphne all but jumped from her seat, turning only to give a quick peck on her husband’s cheek. 

“Shall we?” Daphne said, offering an arm to Annalise. She nodded, locking her arm with Daphne’s as they walked off.

They made their way to one of the large staircases leading down to the front of the manor and Annalise once again, marveled at the sheer size of the home. She supposed Daphne noticed her gaping stare when she said, “it is not as grand as it seems, when you share the home with a dozen other people.”

“Does Lord Bridgerton spend much of his time here?” 

“Ah, straight into your inquiries of Anthony, I see?” 

Annalise’s eyes widened, a warm blush creeping up her neck, “no- I did not mean to pry about the viscount’s affairs, I-” 

Daphne laughed, “not to worry, Miss Carrington. I only wish I had the opportunity to learn about my husband and his family before I married him. It is a good thing that you wish to know us before you marry him.”

Annalise exhaled, once again overwhelmed with the task she decided to take on – spending each day with Bridgerton sibling would not be easy. 

“Did you not know him before you married? From the way you two look at each other, it seems as though you’ve known each other for ages. Was it not a love match?”

“I suppose it was. Though neither of us knew, nor did we want to admit it. Actually, it was Anthony who made us marry – rather quickly too, I hadn’t had the chance to truly know Simon before we wed.” 

“Did the viscount choose Simon for you to marry?”

Daphne scoffed, “heavens, no. He loathed the idea of Simon marrying me – do you know they dueled? Or they were about to before I ran in to stop them. He had found Simon and I…” she paused, pursing her lips, “in a rather compromising position.” 

Annalise raised her brows, “and he forced the two of you to marry?”

“Precisely. Though I suppose it was for the best in the end” she smiled, no doubt thinking of her husband.

“Excuse my forwardness but, did he force the two of you to marry to save the family’s reputation? I suppose what I’m trying to say is, is he quite concerned with how he is perceived?”

“I suppose one could see it that way if you were not familiar with Anthony. You see, honor and duty is of utmost importance to my brother – and he is fiercely protective of the people he loves, which are few and far between outside of his family. He did not want Simon to take advantage of me – for him to have his way and then abandon me. In his own mind, forcing us to marry was more about protecting me from harm than it was about protecting my reputation.” 

Annalise nodded, choosing to remain silent for a moment as they continued their stroll.

“Does he ever wish he were not the eldest?” Annalise asked.

Daphne looked at Annalise in surprise.

“No, I don’t think he does. Though, it’s not something I’ve ever discussed with him. One might think he regrets it or wishes he was not the firstborn – but Anthony is not a man who wishes for things. He’s very cold and logical in that way. The way he sees it, fate cannot be changed. He is the firstborn son and he must accept the responsibility that comes with it, whether he wishes to or not.” 

Fate cannot be changed. The words echoed in her mind.

They continued their stroll around the grounds, Annalise quietly pondering over Daphne’s revelations about the viscount. When they neared Aubrey Hall, Daphne turned to Annalise, grabbing both of her hands. 

“I could not imagine that any of my other brothers would have taken care of our family the way Anthony did – and continues to. And I doubt there is a man in London that could be a better husband than him because of it. Except Simon of course. But fortunately he’s taken.” She said with a triumphant smile. 

The pair returned to Aubrey Hall, she exchanged goodbyes with Daphne who was all too eager to get back to her husband. Annalise stood at the center of the foyer, processing the conversation with the Duchess.

“I see you’ve gotten more acquainted with Daphne, she was not too tiresome, I hope? She is quite the opinionated Duchess, I will say” a velvety voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Annalise squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, scrunching her face. She exhaled and turned to where the voice had come from.

“Not at all, she’s lovely. I enjoyed my time with her” she replied, trying to be as curt as possible.  

“I’m happy to hear you’re getting along with my family then – a step in the right direction indeed” he teased, a smile on his face that Annalise wished did not make her feel so warm in the face.

“Must you always?” She shot back.

He shrugged, his arms lifted out to each side, “I’m not certain what you mean, Miss Carrington.” 

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead giving him a defiant look and a small curtsy to excuse herself from the conversation. He let her leave but did not cease his smiling as she walked off to her room, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as she could.

“Your defiance will not deter me, Miss Carrington!” He called out after her. 

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Her next target – Eloise. From what Annalise already knew of her, Eloise was rebellious, outspoken, and had a large amount of disdain for the polite society she was raised in. Perhaps she could give Annalise better insight into the flaws of her brother? 

As expected, she found Eloise in the library, her nose in a book. Annalise sat across from her, a book in her own hand. She glanced at Eloise for a moment who seemingly either hadn’t noticed her sit down or was entirely too entranced by her book. Annalise opened her own book, skimming the pages.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Eloise peeking over her book. Annalise looked up just as Eloise peeked over her book once again.

“Hello, Miss Bridgerton – though I assume you’d prefer Eloise?” 

She nodded, putting her book down in her lap. 

“I’m not interrupting, am I?” Annalise asked.

“Oh, not at all. I’ve read this book twice before, I only wanted an excuse to get out of embroidery lessons with my mother and Francesca” she said bluntly. 

Annalise laughed, “You are every bit the rebellious one your brother said you were.” 

“He said that did he!” Eloise exclaimed. 

“Well he certainly implied it” she laughed 

Eloise rolled her eyes but her smile remained, “I suppose your brother thinks the same. A well-read woman is often seen as rebellious, are we not?” 

Annalise’s smile faded, “yes it seems so.” 

“It is their fault – they cannot handle an intelligent mind” Eloise said, her tone both serious and jestful when she noticed the shift in Annalise’ demeanor.

“Does your brother dislike your love of books?” Annalise asked.

“Hardly. Despite his qualms and complaints on my rebellious nature” she mocked, “when we were younger, he found quite the governess for us – for Daphne, Francesca and I, that is. Actually – several governesses, each one more strong willed than the other! I’d scare them off when I didn’t like them but he refused to give up” she chuckled.

“What about your brothers, did he treat them any differently from the three of you?” Come on, Eloise. Give me something. She pleaded in her mind.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose. He certainly doesn’t drink with us or take us to the gentlemen's club but we were always allowed to pursue what we wanted. Did he ever tell you, I’m a better shot than the lot of them! And he never prevented me from besting him, as wounded as his pride may have been.” She scoffed. 

Annalise sighed. Yet another review of the viscount that held nothing but praise. Three days had passed and yet Annalise had not yet found a single flaw. 

After their conversation ended, Annalise made her way out of the library towards the terrace for some air when she heard music coming from one of the rooms. She walked towards the sound – a pianoforte playing a dancing tune. The door to the room ajar so she peered inside, unable to quell her curiosity. 

“Come, brother! It’s been far too long since you’ve danced with me!” It was the youngest Bridgerton, dragging Anthony by the hand towards the center of the room. 

“Alright but just this one dance, I have much work to do, Hyacinth.”

Behind them, Francesca played the piano – as Anthony had said – quite exceptionally. 

Anthony took Hyacinth by the hands and began dancing with her, galloping across the room, spinning her around eliciting loud giggles from the young girl. He picked her up, spinning her around, grinning ear to ear at the joy his sister found in dancing with him. Annalise watched them, it was a bittersweet sight. The age difference between Anthony and Hyacinth was not all that different from Annalise and Thomas. But here she was, deathly afraid of accepting a proposal from what she now had to admit, amazing man, because of her own brother. Her fear, that even Anthony, in all of his greatness, would turn out every bit as cruel as Thomas. She turned away from the scene, unable to witness all that she could have had. 

That evening, she laid in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep. There were still quite a few Bridgerton siblings left to converse with, but she was beginning to doubt there’d be any use. A sharp knock on the door startled her out of her thoughts.

“Come in,” she said, sitting up. Lady Bridgerton walked in, a gentle smile on her face. Annalise stood up, caught off guard by her sudden arrival.

“Apologies, I did not mean to intrude but I wished to speak with you.”

“Oh! It’s no intrusion at all, Lady Bridgerton, it’s your home after all. Please, sit” Annalise said, standing until the dowager viscountess took her seat on the bed.

They sat side by side as Lady Bridgerton took Annalise’s hands in hers. 

“This all must be quite frightening for you, being courted by Anthony and having no confidant” she said, her eyes filled with love – Annalise knew what she had meant. She was unsure of what to say, scared that she might say the wrong thing.

“Should you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask me. I went through this once upon a time – and I have raised four daughters of my own. I am no stranger to the worries of young girls during this time.” 

“Thank you, Lady Bridgerton. You are most kind” she said softly, trying to hold back the tears fighting their way through. Despite not remembering much of her mother, there were certainly days where her heart ached because of the vacancy in her life. 

“I know Anthony is not the easiest man to get along with. He is an enigma, even to me sometimes and I raised the boy!” She laughed, Annalise smiled along with her. Lady Bridgerton exhaled, a smile still on her face as she turned to Annalise. 

“He feels strongly about you. I see it in the way he looks at you. I do not think I’ve ever seen him quite so enamored by someone before. I do hope you will give him a chance before you write him off.”

Annalise sighed. First the sisters, now the mother. What was Annalise to do?

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A startling crack forced Annalise’s eyes open, ripping her from her sleep. Light poured in through the satin curtains. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was the morning of her fourth day at Aubrey Hall, her fourth day in search for Anthony Bridgerton’s fatal flaw in hopes it may save her from the irreversible boundaries of marriage. Annalise sighed, leaving the plush bed behind in preparation for the day.

She made her way towards the noise that had awakened her, following the boisterous laughter of men as they shot clay pigeons. To her surprise – it was not only men, Eloise was taking her shot while Benedict, Collin, and the Duke watched in awe. She stepped outside, walking towards the group though not near enough for them to see her just yet. 

“She is a freak of nature” Benedict murmured. 

“How was I not aware that it is not a Bridgerton brother – but a sister who is the best shot?” The Duke chuckled, obviously enjoying the shame Eloise’ skills caused her brothers.

Eloise turned after taking her shot, shooting down the clay pigeon with ease, a triumphant smile on her face. 

When she spotted Annalise, she jumped, “Oh, Annalise! You must join us!” Eloise ran over, excitedly grabbing Annalise by the hand and dragging her towards the little party.

Benedict was the first to speak as Annalise approached them, offering a nod and a warm smile. 

“I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking yet – I hear you’ve been quite busy interrogating the family about our dear eldest brother?” 

Annalise blushed, “I see I have not been as subtle as I had hoped,” looking down at her feet suddenly regretting joining their outing.

“It’s quite alright, Miss Carrington. Quite smart on your part, actually” the Duke said, chiming in on the conversation. 

“Has it now reached our turn to be interrogated?” Collin jested.

Annalise couldn’t fight off her smile caused by the younger boy’s joke, “I think I’ve gathered all the information I need.” 

“And that is?” Benedict asked.

“That your brother is essentially flawless, I suppose. There is really nothing that could hinder me from accepting his proposal.” 

The three siblings and the Duke exchanged looks, silent for a moment before bursting out into a fit of laughter. Annalise stilled, had she said something funny?

“Our brother? Flawless?” Eloise said, doubling over in laughter.

Benedict and Collin cleared their throats, trying not to laugh any further, wiping away tears from their eyes. The Duke chuckled once more.

“Do you wish to reject his proposal, Miss Carrington?” Collin asked after he’d calmed down from the sudden outburst. Before she could respond, Benedict cut in.

“Truth be told, Anthony is a complicated man – he is honorable and decent, of course. But,” he paused, trying to find the words to convey his feelings towards his eldest brother, “the death of our father haunts him, the weight of carrying this family is constant and it makes him rather – irritable? Hard to please?” He finished, looking at Eloise and Collin in question.

 “Obstinate?” Eloise added.

“Self-righteous” Collin said.

“Arrogant” the Duke nodded.

“Well then-” she turned to Eloise, “you waxed on about how well he took care of you and your sisters” she said, confused at the sudden change in opinion.

“He certainly did! As dutiful and honorable as he is, he can be just as difficult.” 

“He is the reason we are able to pursue what we want but his decision to take on this burden has isolated him” Benedict said earnestly. 

Annalise did not know what to make of this conversation. She saw what it did to her brother to take on the responsibility of being heir. It did not bode well for her, she became the outlet to her brother’s every stress and grievance. But she had seen Anthony with his family – the family whose weight he held on his shoulders valiantly. He did not hurt them the way Thomas had hurt her. 

“Perhaps we should return, it seems as though a storm is coming” the Duke said, snapping Annalise out of her thoughts. She only nodded, relieved to end the conversation and retire to her room.

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Anthony poured another drink in his glass, swirling the cup before downing the bitter liquid all at once. He sighed, leaning back in his chair. He spent the past few days going over dozens of ledgers and letters that required his attention. At first, he welcomed the distraction. It had been four days and Annalise still had not given him an answer – not only had she not answered but it seemed to be she was doing her best to avoid him altogether. He supposed it could be worse, Daphne had informed him that Annalise was asking about him. Perhaps he had hope yet. The pitter patter of rain caught Anthony’s attention, the dreary skies finally gave into pouring rain it seemed. He tried to return his focus to the ledgers in front of him. Unfortunately, the sound of his siblings' laughter did not allow it. He exhaled in annoyance, getting up from his seat at the mahogany desk to go berate them to shut up.

“Is it necessary to be as boisterous as you lot are?” He barked, storming out of his study. 

“I have been working for da-” He stopped in his mid sentence, choking on his words once he noticed Annalise frozen standing between Benedict and Eloise. 

“Miss Carrington. My apologies, I did not realize- I assumed all the noise was coming from my brothers” He stumbled.

She shook her head, “please, you needn’t apologize, my lord. We did not intend to disturb you” she said, her voice meek, avoiding eye contact. Something tugged at his chest at the sight of her so docile and afraid.

“Come now brother, must you always be such a damper on our fun?” Benedict said. 

He shot Benedict a look, not now. 

Thankfully, Benedict understood. 

“I believe mother wanted to speak with you, Eloise. Something about you avoiding an embroidery lesson?” 

Eloise looked to Anthony and then Benedict, eyes wide. 

“Collin? Did you ever tell me about your trip to Anatolia? Penelope mentioned something about a turkey…?” She said, hoping to rope Collin into postponing her chat with their mother.

Collin pondered for a moment, “no I don’t believe I did.” Benedict, Collin and Eloise locked arms and sauntered off. Benedict turned before they were out of sight, throwing a wink at Anthony.

He was left with Annalise, who still had her eyes trained on the ground. 

“Would you mind accompanying me back to my study for a moment?” He asked.

She looked up, lips parted to make an excuse but he spoke before she could voice her protest.

“I promise, I only wish to speak with you.” 

She nodded hesitantly but followed him as he made his way back to the study. He returned to his seat, gesturing for Annalise to sit where she’d like. She sat, her hands in her lap, fiddling with her fingers. 

He watched her for a moment. Eyes trained on the way she tried to soothe her nerves by fiddling with whatever she could find – usually it was a loose thread. Anthony exhaled, he supposed he should just spit out the question he so desperately wanted an answer to. 

“Why are you insistent upon refusing my proposal? One would have thought marriage is something a person in your position should chase” he asked.

Annalise looked up, inhaling. 

“I have already told you, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Have I wronged you in some way? Hurt you? Or have you found that I lack something that you wish to have in a husband” Anthony pressed.

She scoffed, shaking her head.

“What is it?” He asked.

“You are so incredibly,” she paused, “vexing!”

“Vexing?” His eyebrows raised. 

“Yes, vexing. I have spent the better part of this week searching for some flaw, some secret, something that will make it clear to me that we are not meant to be!” Her voice was rising as she neared the end of the sentence. This was the most he’d seen her speak – and the loudest she had been too. 

“And did you find it?” He whispered.

“No.”

Anthony held his breath, waiting for her to continue.

“Instead, I have found nearly a hundred reasons to surrender and accept that perhaps,” she inhaled, “perhaps I was fated to you from the very start.” 

“Does this mean you accept my proposal?” Anthony drew in a breath. He could see the internal battle in her mind, afraid, pained by the question he continued to pose to her.

“Please,” she paused, looking back down at her lap, “do not hurt me. I have spent a lifetime fearing my brother’s anger and I cannot,” her voice cracked and Anthony’s heart broke, “I cannot bear to spend the rest of my life in continuation of the same fear with another man.” 

Anthony crossed over to her, leaning in front of her and took her face in both of his hands – taking great care to be as gentle as he could be. She looked at him, causing tears to fall from her eyes. He reached forward, placing a kiss under each eye where the tears had fallen. 

“I swear upon all of the stars in the sky that I will not hurt you, Annalise."

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton family #oc #netflix #fanfic

[cvmkoo]

➟ missed call

➟ summary : jungkook yearns for you, with an intensity that's hard to describe. he would do anything, absolutely anything, to have you all for himself. hes not afraid of getting his hands dirty, and he'll stop at nothing until you are all his. what he wants, he will have, and nothing will stop him.

➟ genre : angst, psychotic love, fluff, comfort

➟ warnings : lack of consent, nightmares, descriptions of passing out, unhealthy relationships, emotional abuse, psychotic behavior, manipulation, gaslighting, bipolar behavior, possessiveness, graphic violence, verbal violence, stalking, forced isolation, captivity, severe power imbalances.

➟ wordcount : 3.1k

➟ note : this is an ongoing series you can continue reading on my wattpad page!!

you involuntary flinch when you hear the door on the top of the rusty stairs creak open, blinding light peeking through the dim basement. the metal chains around your ankles rattle, and he smiles at the sight.

he tells you that you look so beautiful while you sleep, he expresses and shows you how incredibly you are and it reminds him of the first time he saw you on campus.

you were wearing a tank top with a denim jacket, and had your pretty hair cascading down.

the boy with the doe eyes and a smile that could cure cancer has turned into something of your nightmares.

he calls your name, and the sound of the syllables rolling off of his tongue make you internally shiver. the light illuminates his figure and you can see him descending down the stairs, holding a tray.

it makes you feel sick, the smell of his cooking makes you gag, but the only thing that keeps you from throwing up is the lack of food in your system.

the candle gutters, and jungkook's features are distorted by the flickering light. the boy who used to make your heart race now inspires only fear.

"Y/N." he whispers, his voice laced with a hunger that makes your skin crawl. "you're so beautiful... even when you're chained up like this."

you flinch, but there's nowhere to hide in this dingy basement. The chains around your wrists and ankles are your prison.

he sets the tray down on a dusty table, the clink of the dishes echoing ominously in the gloom.

"eat." he commands, his smile twisted into something sinister. "you need your strength."

The food looks rancid - leftover stew, hardened bread, and something that might have once been fruit, now moldy and rotten.

but you're starving, and the thought of even a single morsel is almost enough to make you weak with hunger.

a flicker of defiance sparks in your eyes. you're not just some animal he can keep locked away and feed at his whim. But what can you do? the chains are secure, and he's much stronger than you are

a tear escapes down your cheek, and he notices. "don't cry, doll." he coaxes, his voice soft again. "it's not your fault. im the one who's gone bad."

you want to believe him. you wanted to believe him when he the boy next door with the kind eyes and the easy smile. but his actions speak louder than his words, and his actions have turned monstrous.

" 'm not hungry" you manage to choke out, your voice raw with emotion. "i don't want your food."

his smile falters, and for a moment, the boy you once loved looks back at you. But the flicker is fleeting. "you have to eat, Y/N." he insists, his eyes pleading. "you need your strength."

the plea in his voice twists your gut. does he really care for you, or does he just want to keep you alive so he can keep hurting you?

your mind races, but you know there's no easy answer.

there's a shift in the atmosphere, and you feel it like a physical weight. The room is heavy with tension, and his eyes are dark with hunger.

he takes a step toward you, and your body tenses. The fear is palpable. you can taste it, bitter and metallic on your tongue.

jungkook kneels onto the floor infront of you, his movements slow and deliberate. his hand reaches out, his fingers caressing your cheek.

you flinch, and he sighs.

"why do you fight me, Y/N?" he murmurs, his voice aching with a strange mix of regret and desire. "i don't want to hurt you. i want to take care of you."

you tremble, the conflicting emotions tearing at your insides. the chains rattle, and jungkook's gaze is drawn to them.

"you're slowly killing me." you blurt out, your shaky voice barely more than a whisper. "i can't breathe down here."

jungkook's hand cups your chin, tilting your face up. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and his gaze is dark with desire.

"you're wrong, doll." he whispers.

"im saving you."

with that, he leans forward, pressing his lips against yours. he pecks your lips once again, and then he pulls away.

he stands up, leaving you breathless and shaking.

he turns, and walks back up the stairs. the door shuts behind him, the bolt sliding into place with an ominous click.

as the candle gutters, and the light fades, you let the tears fall freely.

-

it's dark. the only sound is the slow drip of water leaking through the cracks in the ceiling.

your limbs are stiff and aching, and the smell of decay and rot fills your nostrils.

you're alone.

the thought hits you like a punch to the gut, and a sob escapes your lips.

jungkook's face flashes before your eyes. the memory of his touch, his kiss, lingers like a ghost on your skin.

but he's gone, and you're trapped in this nightmare alone.

a horrified scream escapes your mouth, and you shoot your eyes open.

your eyes scan the room, but you can barely see anything.

"oh god, oh god, no." you breathe, your chest heaving with unsteady breaths. "no!" you choke out

"jungkook?" you call out, your voice hoarse and shaky. "where are you?"

there's no response, only the echo of your own voice reverberating off the stone walls.

"jungkook!" you shout, panic rising in your throat.

the chains clink, the sound mocking you.

you're trembling, there's beads of sweat cascading down your temples, silent tears streaming down your face and you try to catch a breath.

"k-kook." you whimper shakily, pulling on the restraints as hard as you can, feeling the metal cut into your flesh.

you hear the creaking sound of the door, and the sudden illumination makes you flinch, shutting your eyes and hiding your face in the crook of your arm.

you let out a terrified scream, feeling hands grab at your wrists, making you jolt.

"hey— hey, hey." the soothing voice calls out, and you slowly open your eyes, letting the image of the man come into focus.

jungkook is crouched next to you, his brows furrowed in worry.

You cant make up his figure well, but you can tell that he has a graphite gray shirt on, along with a matching pair of sweatpants. His hair is messy and ruffled, and he looks so fatigued.

"what's wrong, doll?" he asks, his voice a low and croaky.

you stare at him, the tears still flowing freely down your face, your chest heaving as your laboured breaths echo through the empty basement.

"koo.." you cry out, hiccups escaping your mouth, hands instinctivly clutching onto the rough material of his shirt.

jungkook's eyes soften, and he quickly wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. You feel his strong arms collecting your body into a much needed embrace.

you tense for a second.

jungkook breaths out shakily.

He pushes your head down his broad shoulder, and you turn your head, allowing yourself to rest on his shoulder.

"shh, it's alright, i'm here." he soothes, rubbing circles on your back.

He smells so good, his cologne invading your senses, the musky scent calming you down. You let out a sob, and his arms tighten around you.

"calm down, little one." he soothes, his hand moving up and down your back in a calming motion.

"I had a n-nightmare." you sob into his neck. "it was so scary, kookie--"

"It's okay," he cuts you off. "you're safe, im here, doll."

you clutch onto his shirt, breathing in his scent, letting his voice wash over you.

jungkook moves slightly, adjusting himself on the cold concrete floor. He pulls you into his lap, letting you sit between his legs, and your body melts against his, the heat of his body.

"feel me? feel my chest." he questions, lifting your palm up with his warm hand to press it against his solid chest. "feel my heart beating?"

you emit a low hum, trying to press your hand harder on his broad chest to stop yourself from trembling.

he notices, takes your hand a little higher on his pecs, until you can feel the thumping of his heart.

youre scared. youre terrified, but he's here, and for a moment, that's all that matters.

jungkook's hand cradles the back of your head, and he presses his lips to your forehead, kissing the skin gently.

"breathe for me." he says, his voice low and calm. "come on, deep breath in, and out"

you obey, inhaling and exhaling, feeling his chest rise and fall against your body.

you're shaking, and jungkook can feel it.

he runs his hands up and down your arms, trying to get you to stop trembling.

"what was it about, hm?" he asks softly, his voice full of concern.

you remain silent, staring unknowingly into his deep eyes.

"won't tell me? no?" he tilts your head to the side, the pad of his thumb outlining the corner of your lip.

you look up at him with moist eyes.

"scary." you barely let out. "so dark and scary."

-

"yeah? tell me, love. what was so scary about it?" he encourages, rough hand coming up to tilt your chin up to him, his deep eyes locking into a deep gaze with yours.

"so dark. scary" you lowly whimper.

"there was loud noises and then — it w-was suddenly quiet, i was so scared." you utter, your hands roaming everywhere until they found home on jungkooks.

he immediately notices, and he takes hold of your wrists, guiding them back to his chest, holding them in place.

"then, when you came. i thought you left. i didn't hear your footsteps." you shakily mutter, leaning more into his chest.

jungkook sighs. you feel your eyes sting.

"i dont want to stay here." you whimper, lower lash line tingling from unshed tears.

"im scared, kook. please let me go."

he stays silent, the grip on your wrists tightening. jungkook clenches his jaw, shutting his eyes tight for a brief second.

you hiccup, and the tears roll down your cheeks, the salty tears dripping on the grey fabric of his shirt.

"you're a little brat, doll. such a crybaby." jungkook says, his thumb stroking the skin of your wrist.

"how many times do i have to tell you that i'll always be here?"

you let out a pathetic sniffle, feeling jungkooks free hand wrap around your waist.

"i'll never leave you."

"you leave me alone down here every night" you blurt out, your hands balling up into fists.

you feel the pressure build up, and it's painful.

you feel your chest constrict.

jungkook notices.

"hey, look at me." he instructs, his thumb and index finger grasping onto your chin. "look into my eyes."

your gaze meets his, and his stare is so intense.

"do i look like im lying?"

"no." you breathe out.

"there you go. i'm not lying."

jungkook pulls away from you, and his hands fall onto his knees. he stands up, his tall frame towering over you.

"come on." he coaxes, extending his hands towards you.

"what are we going to do?" you mumble, and he grabs your arms, pulling you up onto your feet.

jungkook doesn't respond.

He wraps his strong arms around your waist, and hoists you up, your legs wrapping around his torso.

"kook" you mumble, your voice small and soft.

"shh."

"I want to sleep." you plead.

"we will. in a bit."

you lay your head down on his shoulder, feeling the rhythmic beating of his heart, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

his grip is secure, his touch warm and comforting.

jungkook carries you out of the dingy basement, and ascends up the stairs.

your heart thunders as you feel the light seeping into the dark basement, illuminating your figure.

The air is chilly, and your bare arms are covered in goosebumps.

the sound of jungkooks steady breathing is enough to keep your heart rate at a calm pace.

the door is left open, the dim lighting of the living room filtering in.

"you're being good for me, love. so good." jungkook whispers, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, clinging onto him dearly.

"do you know what im about to do to you?"

-

your body freezes.

jungkooks eyes catches the subtle reaction, a wicked smile curves up his lips.

his fingers dip into the supple flesh of your hips.

"am i scaring you, hm?" he taunts,

"n-no.." you stammer, voice betraying the tremor in your nerves.

his chuckle fills in the air, low and rumble.

"good girl." he purrs, walking down the hallway towards his room, closer to his domain.

"so good for me."

the door of his bedroom swings open with a forceful kick, your eyes widen and you flinch when you feel his body suddenly shifting.

the dim lights of the city seeps in through the half open blinds, and the cool breeze flow into the space.

as soon as the air fills your lungs your body washes with adrenaline, you feel like you finally can breathe again.

he confidently walks towards his bed, his long strides bringing the both of you closer.

jungkook sits down on the mattress with a graceful motion, his body dipping under the added weight.

his gaze never leaves you as he carefully positions you on his lap, his hand possessively resting on the back of your neck.

"im going to give you what you want, little one. im going to take care of you."

"jungkook.." a whimper elicits from your shaky lips.

"you need this. im going to give it to you." he insists. he feels your thighs twitch on top of his, jeongguk grips on of them tightly.

"sit fucking still." he husks, dark eyes boaring into yours.

"no– no, i don't." you mumble, the fear building up. it crashes into you.

jungkook's hands are strong, around your trembling form, holding you in place.

"no!" you exclaim, voice filed with desperation.

you feel an impact of a sharp sting radiating through the skin of your cheek, the impact is jarring, making a painful breathy whimper slip out of your lips.

he struck you.

your hands reach up, and try to cup your cheek, tears welling up in your eyes, the salty liquid stinging the cut he's caused.

an ugly sob ripples out of youd throat, your desperate cries echoing in the empty space of his room.

"i- i can't-" you cry out, voice raw and ragged.

he pulls you against him, hands tightening on the nape of your neck and on your hip, pulling your body close.

you're shaking like a leaf, your breathing labored, and you're dizzy from the sudden impact.

"you can." he coaxes, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. "im going to make it better, i'll take care of you."

your heart is pounding in your ears, and you can't feel your hands and legs.

your heart thunders in your ears, drowning the world around you. strength drain from your limbs.

you feel darkness seeping in your vision, consuming your consciousness. your body gives up completely, and you go limp in jungkooks arms, your head dropping down.

"angel?"

-

theres nothing but the ringing thats vibrating back and forth between your ears, you feel yourself swoon out and your head feels so light. you feel gente taps on your cheek, and theres a barely audible voice thats trying to snap you out.

you gasp, blinking slowly to clear out your faded vision. you dont feel your chest heaving but jungkook does.

theres a warm palm pressed against your chest lightly, you dont notice until the voice of jungkook vibrate into your ears.

"hey–hey." he coos, "there you go. ya comin' back to me now?'

you swallow back, blinking your eyes multiple more times.

the ceiling comes to a focus for your blur eyes, a ceiling marred by cracks and grime comes into focus. You feel your eyes sting.

you feel jungkooks rough thumb brush across the under of your eyes, wiping the tears away.

a shaky intake of breath catches jungkooks ears, his eyes soften when he notices your little hurt hiccups.

both of his hands find home on your jaw and behind your ears, cupping your face in his big hands.

his fingers brush away your long strands of bangs softly, his eyes finding yours.

'w-why" you start.

"shh. hush, angel" jungkook cuts you off.

he leans forward, his breath fanning over your features and he presses his lips to the crown of your head.

the smooth muscle of his hands glide down the curves of your throat, feeling your erratic pulse.

he breathes in your scent, before pressing a kiss against your hair.

jungkook  pulls you onto his lap, both your hands are gripping at his shoulders tightly, trying to stabilize yourself on him.

he guides you head to the crook of his shoulder, wrapping his arms around your form, holding you to his chest.

you hear him sigh, his lips pressing a rough kiss to the crown of your head again.

"youre so fucking addicting youre a drug to my soul." jungkook grunts.

"im so sorry, angel. fuck im so sorry" he mutters, voice a rambling lowly in his throat.

he pulls you into his chest, the vibrations from his voice soothing your frayed nerves.

"i was so selfish i thought you needed it" he breathes out. "i thought i could give you what you needed"

you're shivering again, but not out of fear.

you're shivering out of overwhelming desire and want for this man.

your fingers dig into the flesh of his back, your heart pounding against your ribs.

he pulls away from your hair, and he looks up at you, the deep brown orbs looking into your teary gaze.

your features twist, and jungkook tilts your chin up, pressing a harsh aggressive kiss to the corner of your lips.

"ill make it all better, im sorry doll." he soothes, lips barely leaving the contact of your skin.

your hands crawl up, and cup his face, holding his stare into your watery ones.

you push your lips against his, teeth clashing, tongues fighting, hands clawing and searching.

it tastes like tears and lust. it's like a sweet honey that melts on your tongue, and it leaves a bitter aftertaste.

jungkook tears away from you, his own eyes glistening, lips bruised and puffy from yours.

there's tears in your eyes, the corners of your lips quivering, and you look at him.

you look at the man you were in love with and he looks back at the girl he cherishes with everything he has.

what has happened to him.

all rights reserved @cvmkoo upcoming chapter will be posted on wattpad

#jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook comfort #daddy jungkook #jungkook imagines #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #yandere jungkook #jungkook #jungkook oneshot #jungkook imagine

[marypaol]

Skin To Skin

Draco Malfoy x fem!reader

Summary: The aftermath of Draco knowing who his soulmate is, yet he can’t bear to face her.

Warnings: Teasing, Boggarts, mention of fears, mention of the Hospital Wing, the Weasley twins being themselves, etc.

Note: This is Part 2 of “Copy Of A Copy”, so check it out before you read this! (And I’m sorry if this one is bad)

Copy Of A Copy

Masterlist

Request Reauirements

This person believed in me so here you go! : @theomalfoy

Draco wasn’t the want-everything-to-go-back-to-the-way-it-was-after-complaining-about-it-type.

Well, that’s what he kept telling himself.

But he knew deep down that he did want everything to go back to the way they were, because every time he looked at his hand, that deep red spot of irritated skin was slowly fading away and he wanted to find a reason to create it again.

She’d stopped drawing. And normally Draco would find that a good thing; now he didn’t have to harshly wipe them off and be left an embarrassing red spot on his hand. But he found himself thinking back on how the drawings actually looked good, despite him being annoyed at the fact they repeatedly showed up on his skin, and he wanted them back. Which, of course, sounds ridiculous if you were to look back on how he acted towards the other drawings that previously showed up on his hand.

But he missed it. Missed watching the lines form one by one, letting him know she existed. He even couldn’t get the image of her face out of his mind, ever since he saw her in Care of Magical Creatures. He couldn’t help but think she was decently pretty.

Draco’s hand has unwanted sweat on it so he harshly wiped it on his robes, a disgusted expression lying on his lips. He knew the reason for the sweat though, his quill once again hovering over his skin, the same skin he used to aggressively rub almost everyday as his soulmate drew mindless doodles on her hand.

He dipped the quill tip in the ink, the noises of everyone scattering about being the last thing on his mind, in fact the occasional “SHH!” from Madam Irma Prince was quite helpful to encourage him to focus once the students followed her orders.

He sighed softly, taking a deep breath while staring stupidly at his pale skin he was about to ruin.

He leaned down, the quill tip making contact with his hand two times, forming two dots. Those were eyes, he decided, and drew a straight line below them, making a face that represented him at the moment. His eyes were full yet his lips held uncertainty, hesitant to do this.

Once it was over it didn’t seem so bad anymore, as long as he could manage to hide it from Crabbe and Goyle. The thought of them teasing him about it, teasing him about actually writing back on his skin was unbearable. He could only hope that they don’t stare at his hand.

“Don’t be scared now, it’s just a Boggart.” Professor Lupin explained, his wand held with two hands, a grip on each end.

“Now, Boggarts like tight dark places, and I found this one in the wardrobe yesterday. I asked Dumbledore if we could use it for the lesson and thankfully he said yes. Now, does anyone know what a Boggart looks like?”

The usual hand of Hermione Granger was shot up at the speed of lightning, and once she was called on, she answered not only the right answer but was awarded points for her House.

“No one knows, sir. It takes form of the deepest fear of whomever it faces.”

“Correct, Ms. Granger.” Lupin said, smiling while Granger went slightly pink.

Draco rolled his eyes, irritation seeming to be boiling within them.

“But, everyone, we have an advantage against this creature. And that is?”

“There’s so many of us, it doesn’t know what to turn into?” Potter answered, and Lupin replied with a smile, and awarded more points to Gryiffindor.

“Exactly!” Lupin exclaimed. “Now, though, there is a way to get past a Boggart. And that spell is Riddikulus!” Lupin said, doing the hand movement with the one that possessed his wand. “Say it with me now…”

“Riddikulus!” The class said together.

“This class is ridiculous.” Draco mutters under his breath, Crabbe nodding in agreement beside him while he heard a snuffled laugh somewhere near. His head swerved and he spotted the same girl he saw in Hagrid’s class, trying not to smirk at his joke. He found a smirk coming to his own lips, proud of himself.

“They feed on fear, so think of what you fear the most, and turn it into something funny.” Lupin once again explained, and brought up Neville as a demonstration. “Now, Neville, tell me, what do you fear the most?”

“P-professor Snape.” the boy mumbled, having to repeat the same thing again but a little louder since the Professor didn’t hear him.

“Ahh.” Lupin said amusingly once the name was repeated. “I suppose he does intimidate us all in some way.”

There was a pause before Lupin continued to project to the class, for he was having a quiet conversation with the student before him. “Now Neville, I want you to think of your Grandmother’s clothes very clearly in your mind, can you do that?”

Neville nodded, shaking in his shoes. The door opened and Snape stepped out, looking normal as ever like you’d see him everyday but Neville was scared.

“Wand at the ready!” Lupin reminded, Neville held his wand up and squeaked, “Riddikulus!”

Snape seemed to spin around and he soon found himself in Neville Longbottom’s Grandmother’s clothes, a red handbag on his right arm.

The class laughed, Neville’s face slowly turned into an expression of relief.

Draco scoffed basically the whole time, not ending up actually facing the Boggart but watching as his peers did.

Weasley was practically having a seizure as he faced the spider, helplessly whimpering the spell causing the spider to have roller skates, legs swinging everywhere.

Draco couldn’t help but be curious on what the girl’s fear was, but she didn’t end up facing it just like him.

There was an exited buzz in the air as the students left class, each of them wanting recognition for how brave they were while facing their biggest fears.

“-did you see how I faced that snake-”

“-just said the spell and it went, pop!-”

“-the spider was huge!-”

“-never seen that kind of creature before-”

Draco grumbled angrily, grabbing Crabbe and Goyle’s arms and leading them out to the courtyard in front of the Black Lake.

“That was stupid. Why did he let us do that anyway, and for Dumbledore to give permission…wait til by father hears of this.” He mumbled, looking down and adjusting his arm bandages, thinking back when he insulted the Hippogriff. (He still didn’t regret it, the creature did look kinda ugly to him.)

“Right. We should owl him right away.” Crabbe suggested.

Draco looked up from his arm, eyes flaring. “‘We?!’ I’ll do it. It’s my father after all.”

His friends nodded, Crabbe going pink in the ears.

Goyle’s eyes then shot to Draco’s hand. “Ha! What’s that, Malfoy?”

Draco acted confused, and looking down, acted like he’d seen it for the first time. He pretended to look disgusted. “Gross I tell you, I’ll wash it off later.” He said, looking back at them. Both pair of eyes were still on him.

“Well? What are you looking at?” He snarled, and that seemed to do the trick, both heads bending down as they suddenly found interest in the grass.

“Do this Potion before you leave class, and then a portion of it on my desk with your name on it.”

Snake’s sharp voice echoed through the dark classroom, his gaze seeming to meet all of their eyes before he turned around, adding one last part of his instructions in the black board and heading to his desk, long nose lurking over the surface covered in parchment.

The girl sighed, opening the book to the page instructed and starting to chop the first ingredient. She liked to think of herself good at Potions, but sometimes little things like the reactants would mix up in her mind. But nonetheless if she focused hard enough and followed each step carefully, than she was proud to say that she could do it almost perfectly.

It was only then that she noticed the black markings on the back of her hand, and, looking more closely by bringing up her hand to her face, saw it was a smiley face. It looked smeared a little and the lines were wobbly, but she liked it since she wasn’t the one to draw it.

Scurrying through her bag pretending she was looking for something important, grabbed a quill and dipped it in another student’s ink when they weren’t looking. Then, turning back to her hand and covering it behind her cauldron so the nosy Professor wouldn’t see, drew two eyes next to his, a soft smile beneath it to show her gratitude. He didn’t do much, just too dots and a line, but the reason was all that mattered to her.

She just knew that he missed her somewhat forms of affection, so he acted upon himself to continue it.

“Ridiculous, I tell you, why’d he look at me like that? The audacity of some peop-”

“Sorry.”

Draco didn’t realize he ran into someone else, too busy rambling to himself about an annoying First Year who glared at him out of nowhere to notice his body ran into another. It ended up being a Third Year Hufflepuff, quickly scurrying around the corner to avoid the Slytherin.

Draco rolled his eyes, turning back to the direction he was going and continuing to walk to the Common Room. He muttered the password, climbing into the space full of couches and chairs, all in front of a burning fire, flames high and bright, full of color.

He sat down on one of the chairs, waiting for Crabbe and Goyle to get back from the Hospital Wing; the Weasley twins caught them in the hallway, convinced them to eat some candy, and now their faces were covered in red dots that got bigger by the second. Malfoy simply rolled his eyes at the news when Madame told him before making his way to the room.

He currently sat with a Potions book in his hands, long fingers running across the pages that helped his eyes read it better.

He turned the page, but the page he turned got caught on his robes, and, using his left hand, went to fix it before he froze. On his left wrist, he had another smile face beside the one he drew, this one with an actual smile this time not a straight line like his.

He fought a grin that was threatening to pull the corners of his lips, reaching over to pull his robe sleeve over it so no one could see.

-Like, reblog, and comment to make me happy!

Person I think would like this: @dunningz :)

#imagines #stories #x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #tom felton x reader #soulmates meeting #soulmates #soulmate au #soulmate trope

[melodic-haze]

alright think about this jealous sex with arlecchino. Maybe she’s been hanging out with columbina too much.

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Arlecchino x dom!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Thr briefest mention of petplay, rough sex ig, that's basically it 🤷‍♀️

Ohhhhmygod the way Arlecchino talks of her so very fondly too like it's VERY easy to be jealous I think. Like I'm not really a jealous or a possessive person but even then I'd give like a slight side eye

The Knave was just spending a BIT too much time with Columbina for your tastes. You ask if you could hang out w her, she tells you she has a prior engagement with the other Harbinger. You go to talk to her, she's already talking with Damselette. Frankly, she's acc taking the piss❗️❗️❗️

It just. Drives you up the FUCKING WALL but yk. "Do unto others what you want done to you" or smth like that idk the saying

"I-- I'm going to--"

"You are not doing anything unless I tell you to."

You feel her hands grip onto your hair as you practically abused her cunt with your fingers. If you weren't pinning her to the wall and holding her up, you were sure that as formidable as she was, her legs would've buckled down from the overwhelming stimulation and the lack of release whenever she reached her very peak.

(With the strength of her grip, youu also thanked archons above that despite everything, she was careful enough to not claw at your scalp. That wasn't the most important thing right now, though.)

"You know," you idly mused—taunted, even—as you curled your digits within her, "we could've been doing something better. We could've been having tea, tending to your children, having so much more fun than this. And yet what do you do?"

You pulled your fingers away, slick glistening and forming a faintly connecting line before snapping, and you hear a desperate whimper that you pointedly ignore, "You pass all that up for your fellow Harbinger."

"But she can't make you feel good like I do, can she?" You slapped her thigh harshly, to which you ignore her surprised gasp too—you knew she could handle much more anyway, "Nobody else can have you all pliant and breathless like this. Not her, not anyone."

Arlecchino actually makes a move to nod instead of standing there all dumb, "Only.. Only for you.. my love, I--"

"Only for me?"

"Yes..!"

Answering like an over-eager dog. Actually hilarious.

You stand up and press your fingers harshly inside of her, and just when she feels utter delight in tbe thought of you finally granting mercy on a sinner such as her?

"Move."

"..What?"

"You heard me, my love," the affectionate pet name overshadowed by your mocking tone, "if you want to get off, then move. Surely you can manage such a simple task, right?"

It's unsaid that you want her to move on her own to show her dedication to you...

But either she caught on or she was desperate for the feeling of you inside her, for she leaned her head and started to grind her pussy onto your offered hand.

Only you were allowed to command her like this.

Need to constantly alternate between edging her and overstimming her, both to such UNBEARABLE levels bc SURELY she can handle it 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Absolutely use her in ANY way you could think of; by this point she's a hole for you to use and vent your jealousy to, all while repeating some kinda mantra about how Columbina could never do the things you do to her

Remind her that only YOU could make her feel the things she does, remind her that only YOU could have her bend to your will, both literally and metaphorically. Doesn't matter to you how powerful she is!! Could be an eldrich horror and you don't gaf

At the end of the day, you have utterly corrupted her—trained her—in the ways that she (or anyone) had never imagined. You've absolutely ruined her for everyone else

You just. Need to remind her with a LOT of torture 🥰 break this supposed monster all over again, make her remember just who, exactly, tamed her 🥰🥰🥰

Whether it's by stuffing her with so many toys all in the lowest settings or absolutely filling her up over and over and over and OVER until all traces of the angel-like Harbinger is completely fucked out of her mind 🫶🫶🫶🫶

#hazy demos! #hazy explicits! #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #sub arlecchino #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #sub genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin women x reader #genshin women imagines #genshin women smut #sub genshin women

[frozenmoonshine]

TR boys' unexpected/random red flags headcanon:

Just some crack and slander for the humor purposes. As always, don't take it too seriously, and have fun with it at least half as much as I did writing it!

Since I obviously need to spell this out for some of you, even though it's literally in the title of the post - these are the red flags you wouldn't normally expect from them! That's the whole point of them being unexpected. So don't go telling me how I missed the mark with some characters, or how their red flags are something else. Yeah, we all know the obvious ones, but why would I state the obvious?!

TW: F!reader; implied mysogyny; mentions of DV, cheating, and general toxic behavior.

🚩Mikey - proposes on the second date.

🚩Draken - never talks about himself whatsoever. Even when you directly ask him to open up about what's troubling him, he's still difficult and avoids conversation.

🚩Baji - mama's boy. At first, it looks sweet, how he cares about and respects his mother, but soon you realize that he is dependant on her, and cannot make any decisions bigger than what to eat on his own, without "consulting with his mom". Silver lining is that Ryouko is an amazing, lovely woman, but you don't exactly want to date both the mother and the son at the same time, do you?

🚩Chifuyu - overromanticizes everything, then gets mad at you if things don't turn out irl the same they were in his imagination.

🚩Mitsuya - really damn cheap. Like, ok, I know you grew up poor, but going out once a month won't bankrupt you! (You're not even asking him to pay for you or anything like that, but he just refuses to step even one milimeter out of his frugal ways!)

🚩Hakkai - aside from the obvious red flag (you get a package deal of Yuzuha and Mitsuya as well, if you are dating Hakkai), he can also be incredibly self-absorbed and condescending sometimes, thinking he's so much better than you, etc.

🚩Pah-chin & 🚩Peh-yan - putting them together cause they have the same red flag - if you date one of them, the other one will third wheel all of your dates, no exeptions. Might as well just go poly and date them both at this point!

🚩Smiley - refers to women as "females".

🚩Angry - doesn't let you do anything on your own/overprotective. Look, Souya, it's nice that you're being a gentleman, but do you really think I'm incapable of getting a glass of water for myself?! His behaviour can be incredibly stifling and suffocating.

🚩Mucho - won't ever let you pick a date spot cause he's convinced he knows the best. You always end up doing what he wants for dates, or you don't go on a date at all.

🚩Haruchiyo - yeah, sure, he's got more red flags than China, but the not so expected one is that he's incredibly fussy and naggy about the smallest of things. "That's not how you put the trash bag in the can!" "You folded the laundry wrong! Look how I do it!" "Wipe the counter with this, not that!" "Don't leave your hair everywhere! I don't wanna live with a cat!" And so on and so forth, it feels like you are living with your parent(s) all over again!

🚩Hanma - another one with enough red flags to call it a carnival, sure, but the one that catches you off guard is just how jealous and possessive he is. "Where are you going?" "Why is your dress so short?" "You can't go out with male company wearing your tits out!" "Why are you hiding your phone?" "Who's that?" and so on and so forth, you get the idea.

🚩Kazutora - yet another walking red flag in a row (at least his unhealed self), but even as an adult (healed) he still retains that aggression from his teens and gets into random street/bar fights semi-regularly. Him coming back home bloody and bruised is not a rare occurrence at all.

🚩Kisaki - cheats. No idea how he manages to, provided that he looks like... well, that, but he still does.

🚩Taiju - a religious freak prone to domestic violence... what more red flags can you even ask for? None, indeed. But what you don't expect on top of all that is his complete lack of manners and just how loud and embarrassing he can be in public.

🚩Inupi - rude to the waitstaff.

🚩Koko - never got over his ex, stuck on her forever, and cannot ever be fully present in his current relationship. Compares you to his ex all the time, every other person he dated after her was just an unsuccessful rebound.

🚩Izana - does he even have any green ones? Likely not. But what you wouldn't exactly expect from him right away, given all the other red flags that come into front upon the first contact - is that he's a bad mansplainer. "You probably don't know how the betta fish do this thing where..." - Izana, I'm literally a marine biologist.

🚩Kakuchou - breaks up with you over the smallest things. He missed your call cause he didn't hear his phone ring while in the traffic? - He's not good enough for you and you two should break up. He was late 5 minutes to your date because Izana needed his help with something? - He's lowkey ready to commit seppuku, and of course, dramatically breaks up with you. It's tiring, honestly.

🚩Ran - gaslighter and manipulator par exellence! Undiagnozed NPD, but the symptoms are everywhere.

🚩Rindou - loves the gym more than you. Obsessed with working out and body building, won't eat normal food, spends all time in front of the mirror flexing and "checking his gains". Will either try to "get you into fitness" (force you to act the same way he does) or constantly tell you that you "don't understand" just how important it is to him. Is your 10th workout this week really more important than our anniversary, tho, Rindou?

🚩Mocchi - manspreads all the time, and manspreads badly. He's also that type that won't move away from the sidewalk if a woman is coming the opposite way.

🚩Madarame - probably not unexpected, but he's the biggest, worst incel of all. Lives in the manosphere and inhales the alpha bro bullshit podcasts.

🚩South - judges and publicly makes fun of your music taste. It doesn't matter what you listen to, unless it's 101% exactly the same as his taste, he'll be a real bitch about it. Of course, don't even dream about getting a hold of the aux cord!

🚩Shinichiro - doesn't shower regularly. Idk Shin, maybe your lack of personal hygiene was the reason for all those rejections so far? Just some food for thought...

🚩Takeomi - yet another one that's redder than the red army, but what you don't expect is how much he infantilizes you, especially if you are younger than him! Even if it's just one year age difference between you, he'll act all patronizing and constantly emphasise his "rich life experience" and tell you how "you don't understand some things because you are (too) young".

🚩Wakasa - insecure about his height and gets super jealous if he sees you talking to a tall guy. Doesn't even matter if it's your blood relative or a random stranger asking directions in the street - Waka isn't having any of that. He'll sulk and jab at you for the whole day, never saying what the actual problem is.

🚩Benkei - Cannot find/keep a proper job to save his life! Got into some kind of beef with every single potential employer, so he's doomed to working at the gym for the rest of his days.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokrev x reader #tokrev x you #tokrev x y/n #mikey #draken #baji #chifuyu #mitsuya #hakkai #pah and peh #kawata twins #tokrev mucho #sanzu #haruchiyo #shiba taiju #koko #inupi #hanma shuuji #kisaki #kazutora #kurokawa izana #kakucho #haitani brothers #madarame shion #mocchi #sano shinichiro #waka and benkei #akashi takeomi

[epickiya722]

I think about how Yuji is sometimes not told things because the reasons may be someone wants to spare his feelings or just to make sure Sukuna doesn't know what they're planning but either way Yuji is looked out the loop of things.

He doesn't know his parents (even though Wasuke tried to tell him) and therefore doesn't know he is related to Sukuna via soul reincarnation. Megumi and Nobara decided not to tell him about the Cursed Fingers resonating and he probably wouldn't know if Sukuna didn't say anything.

He probably didn't know Todo's condition until these recent chapters, just as he didn't know about Todo coming back to fight. He definitely didn't know about the plan to have Yuta's brain be implanted in Gojo's body. He didn't know and wasn't told that Inumaki lost his arm because of Sukuna, probably was told it was some curse.

Hell, the reason Megumi was able to get possessed by Sukuna because Yuji did not know about the Binding Vow Sukuna made with him (Yuji) because he was made to forget it!

It's just something I think about and imagine how Yuji would because he is one of the most human characters while also not really being human. So a lot of the things he isn't told, if he had found out it would just come crashing down on him.

Not telling him anything comes with good intentions but it comes with dire consequences.

Like, part of me is dreading the next couple of chapters because of how Yuji would react to realizing what Yuta had to do.

Imagine being him. He just saw his teacher get cut down and killed by the same guy who has been nothing but a curse on his life (even before he was born, again Yuji doesn't know) while possessing the body of his friend that he wants to save and then he fights along his senpai who has to clock out the fight because of an injury Yuji didn't even know killed him so now he has to see the results of that.

(Note: before anyone say anything and someone will, Yuji was only shown once in the flashback of 261 and it wasn't a time they were discussing the deal about Gojo's body.)

#he's about to be beyond devastated!! #it's actually something i addressed in his role my fic of my au #where yuji hates not being told things #i didn't even realize this detail from canon until now #just kiya's thoughts #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #jjk manga spoilers #itadori yuji #yuji itadori #yuuji itadori #itadori yuuji