#and stops being ashamed of his scars | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pseudowho · 5 months

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Post-ShibuyaAU! Grey Nanami Kento Headcanons

(help me find the Nanami artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

As an accompaniment to my story, Grey (link here); an AU where Nanami survives Shibuya exploration because I'm never going to be over his loss.

Warnings: Severe injury (burns, eye loss), PTSD, alcohol use, depression, light smut, angst, AU headcanons

Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here

Christmas Greynami Headcanons, link here

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Before he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who meanders, severely burned, skin still on fire with agony, with blurred vision to another atrium, thronging with transfigured humans.

AU!Nanami Kento who fights until the end, embracing his death, until Yuuji arrives at the eleventh hour.

AU!Nanami Kento who, despite being healed by Shoko, faces a grisly recovery, forever physically and psychologically scarred by the events of Shibuya.

AU!Nanami Kento who drinks more heavily than ever, trying to scare away the nightmares; waking up in cold sweats, burning alive and screaming.

AU!Nanami Kento who turns viciously on the hierarchy of Jujutsu High, blaming them for sending their staff and students to Shibuya like lambs to the slaughter.

AU!Nanami Kento who hands his notice in shortly after Shibuya; bitterly recognising the monsters of the world in the various forms, wishing to hunt freely without being at the beck and call of Jujutsu High.

AU!Nanami Kento, who embraces the vigilante life, still saving privately earned money for his early retirement.

AU!Nanami Kento with bruises on his thighs, cuts on his hands, because his depth perception fails him in day-to-day activities now .

AU!Nanami Kento who took up the cold-baths-in-your-clothes idea from Higuruma Hiromi, because his burns still prickle so tenderly even after being healed.

AU!Nanami Kento who looks in the mirror once a day and once only, disgusted by what he sees.

AU!Nanami Kento who is still on speed-dial for every student and every assistant at Jujutsu High, who begrudge him nothing, and still love him dearly.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't even need to use his Cursed energy to hunt down rapists, murderers and abusers.

AU!Nanami Kento who is informed by Ijichi of the goings-on in the school; where students are sent and when, if anyone is being sent to re-recruit him...which is how he learns you are being sent for him.

AU!Nanami Kento who throws himself into work, isolating himself from the world, bitter and jaded and so desperately lonely.

After he meets you:

AU!Nanami Kento who seduces you when you hunt him down, sensing a kindred spirit, and someone to keep him company even if just for one night.

AU!Nanami Kento who is surprised to wake to see you still there, soft, naked, and pressed against him.

AU!Nanami Kento who almost cries when you press soft kisses over his eye patch, not disgusted, not afraid.

AU!Nanami Kento who treats you like a queen, throwing his whole heart and soul into romancing you, never hesitating in his choice.

AU!Nanami Kento who eventually stops covering himself up at home, exiting the bathroom in just a towel, no eye patch, his good eye smiling softly at you, curled in his shirt on his sofa.

AU!Nanami Kento who re-embraces the music from his teenage years, insisting you listen to MCR, Tool, and Fall out Boy while you cook together, singing along badly, flour everywhere.

AU!Nanami Kento who, the first time he had a vicious nightmare with you in his bed, was ashamed and took himself alone out of the house for a walk in the dead of night.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't make it to the door alone the second time; your hand winds in his and you wrap a scarf gently around him, walking arm in arm through the orange glow of the streetlights until he feels calm enough to attempt sleep again.

AU!Nanami Kento who knew he loved you before; but now loves you obsessively, sweetly, deeply.

AU!Nanami Kento who gasps to life in the morning, feeling your warm mouth travel down his scarred abdomen below the covers, groaning in ecstasy as you take him into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair, relearning how to feel joy and pleasure.

AU!Nanami Kento who no longer hides his face in your neck while he rolls his hips gently against yours, drinking in your facial expressions and soft sighs as he takes you to the edge again and again.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't let you go to any of your kills alone; he comes with you, protecting you at every turn, but refuses to split your payment with him.

AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't know you've perfected a minor reverse-cursed healing technique, and you use it to heal the eye patch sores on his face while he sleeps.

AU!Nanami Kento who introduces you to Yuuji; Yuuji smiles so widely with pure honest joy, and Kento feels his heart might burst with pride.

AU!Nanami Kento who only semi-ironically considers Nobara a member of the One-Eyed Club, like him. Nobara loves it. She has badges made. Kento has one under his lapel at all points.

AU!Nanami Kento who learns that you always carry aloe-vera gel and a spare eye patch when you go out together, and his heart clenches with appreciation for you.

AU!Nanami Kento who, in return, starts carrying around pads and hair ties for you, but won't carry an umbrella; he knows you always bring one, and you'll be forced to share the same umbrella.

AU!Nanami Kento who loves when you buy clothes for him, choosing good materials and long sleeves which won't irritate his scars.

AU!Nanami Kento who is so proud to walk out of the coffee shop with two coffees and pastries now, instead of the lonely one.

AU!Nanami Kento who falls asleep against you when you wash his hair and tight scars in the bath, and definitely falls asleep with his head in your lap while you massage aloe into his burns.

AU!Nanami Kento who sees kids staring at his eye patch; he kneels down and quietly tells them that he's a pirate, but the good kind.

AU!Nanami Kento who suffers dreadful depression and flashbacks as Halloween approaches the first year you're together; by the second year, he agrees to dress up as the Phantom of the Opera and Christine together.

AU!Nanami Kento who has dinner with Ijichi, Ino, Higuruma and Kusakabe often.

AU!Nanami Kento, who knows Ijichi will always make a Jujutsu High car available for him, even though he's no longer employed by them. Ijichi, who always has Nanami Kento's back, and would fight anyone to the death for him.

AU!Nanami Kento who no longer sees himself as defined by his trauma, but instead as defined by the love you give him, and he gives you in return.

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Sigh. I adore Greynami.

Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here

@silkspunweb My smutty muse, and partner in crime, thank you ❤️

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tojisun · 4 months

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re: bimbo!reader (because i love her more than simon now)

thinkin about simon who, with all the scars and surgeries done to his hands and arms, has some sort of nerve damage that leaves him with trembling hands. and sometimes, when it's just a tad too cold or the rain is just too strong, his hands can't stop shaking so he hides them from you.

he is ashamed of how "damaged" he is; he is ashamed of being caught at his weakest, at his most vulnerable. so he stuffs his hands underneath your fluffy blankets or curls them inside the pockets of his jackets so that they are out of sight. he knows you're... slow sometimes and he had hoped, had prayed, that you wouldn't catch on this time too; that you're distracted enough with, well, everything else to see the way he can't even hold a glass without spilling his water.

but he forgets that when it comes to him, when it comes to "simmy," you become the smartest, aren't you, petal?

so the next thing simon knows, you're handing him a hook and a bundle of yarn before teaching him how to crochet. he remembers now how you've had that one phase when you were so obsessed with crocheting even though all you could do is make circles- a ring of single stitches that just keeps going until the edges began to rise until it ended up resembling a little pouch that could only house a pen. but it seems like it doesn't matter to you that you don't really know how to crochet, content with teaching simon the single stitch and chirping at him to keep the line going.

simon's hands continue to tremble, muted pain shooting from his wrists, but simon, for once, forgets. he forgets his blemishes and his scars; forgets that his hands could only ever be good for shooting and for killing and for hurting. he forgets that he is more than a weapon as you two crochet: him, quiet, and you, humming to yourself.

he forgets because you remind him that he is more than the man that he is. in your place, he is simmy. he isn't ghost with a mission. he is simmy with a princess who loves him more than he knows he's worth.

simon trembles, and this time it isn't because of his injured hands. this time, he trembles at the weight of his love for you.

his single crocheted line is wobbly and wrinkly and ugly, but simon watches on as you make a bracelet out of it, securing the ends with knots that simon knows won't hold. but that is alright, because simon will be there to retie your bracelet when you need him to. because simon won't leave you.

"i love you, sweets," simon murmurs, pressing his lips and his words on your forehead.

you giggle. "i love you too, simmy!"

see? with you around, he'll be alright.

#suns #bimbo!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #god i love them

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pupkashi · 7 months

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scars

gojo learns to love the scars on his body

a/n: hi friends ! here is sweet and soft lil something about our favorite white haired sorcerer <33 thank u for the request and i hope u guys enjoy :3

wordcount: 1,547

masterlist

he stares at it every morning. when he pushes his hair back to fix it and put on his blindfold, when he wears a shirt that isn’t his Jujutsu uniform. his eyes seem drawn to the faint scars on his forehead, neck and chest.

they seem jagged and out of place compared to the rest of his smooth and perfect skin, serving as a reminder of his failures and losses.

“g’morning pretty boy,” you mumble, walking past him and sitting on the toilet, too asleep to notice the way satoru jumped, quickly letting his hair fall to cover the scar.

the pet name seems unfitting as his eyes move back to the mirror, his reflection staring back at him. “morning sweets” he finally answers, washing his face and grabbing his toothbrush.

“what’s wrong?” you ask, still as intuitive as ever when it came to your lover.

“‘m fine, just a bit stressed,” a tight lipped smile as he hands you the toothpaste. you don’t believe him, but you decide to hold off until at least after you’ve woken up a bit more.

you don’t say anything as the two of you continue to get ready, letting your gaze linger on satoru. there was nothing you could think of that could’ve made him upset so early

it’s a bit quiet as you both make your way into the living room, flowing easily as you two make breakfast, making each others coffee, with satoru carrying the plates to the table and you the coffees. (the last time he carried the coffees burned his hand and spilled both cups everywhere.)

and as he’s about to head out the door you’re pulling him by his collar, fixing it a bit and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. satoru melts into your touch, hands slipping around your waist and all worries being thrown out the window.

“have a good day angel boy,” you mumble, pressing on last kiss to his lips before pulling away.

“cant be that good if I’m not with you,” he pouts, not bothering to make a motion to leave, not until you’re forcing him out the door as he whines ‘just one more kiss!’

it’s anytime there’s a reflective surface, he’s stealing a glance, making sure his neck is covered. he’s so careful about it, wanting to keep his scars hidden, too ashamed to show them to the world.

“sensei is that a scar on your neck? that’s so cool how’d you get it?!” yuji’s voice is enthusiastic and his eyes are glimmering as he stares up at his teacher.

satoru physically tenses at the acknowledgment of the scar on his neck, quickl flashes of that day coming into his mind. geto, riko, where it all went wrong.

“just a nasty fight is all” he shrugs his shoulders, hoping the younger boy would drop the topic.

“but if you have infinity how’s that happen?” his brows furrowed as satoru tries to calm himself down.

“yuji come look! megumi found something!” nobara calls out, the pink haired boy rushing to her side as making their way to their other friend.

satoru’s hand unconsciously brushes over the raised skin, recalling how he’d tried so hard to get the skin back to normal, begging shoko to help him.

that afternoon he’s wearing a bigger sweater, letting his messy bangs fall over his forehead and trying his best to cover up his neck when he catches you staring at him.

“what?” he asks, a nervous smile on his lips. did you realize how ugly they were? were you finally done calling him pretty?

“nothin’ you just look so pretty” you sigh, smiling as you press a kiss to his cheek, hand reaching to push his bangs out of his eyes. satoru stops you immediately, his much larger hand wrapping around your wrist, eyes wide as he realized what he’d done.

“I’m sorry” he mumbles, hand shaking slightly as he lets go of you, rushing into the restroom and taking deep breaths. you were gonna hate him after that, you would realize how fucked up he was and you were gonna leave him and-

three soft knocks on the door pulls him from his thoughts, “angel boy? you okay?” you sounded worried, and he couldn’t help the tears filling his eyes.

“I’m sorry if i overstepped, i didn’t mean to” your voice smaller, satoru opened the door immediately, almost instantly pulling you into his arms.

“no you didn’t” a shaky breath leaving his lips as he debates on where to go from here. “it’s just, i don’t really like my scars,” he frowns, eyes averting your gaze.

you gently take his hand in yours, leading him back to the couch, watching as he tentatively fiddles with the hem of his sweater, pulling it off of him.

there’s a scar running from his neck down his chest, the skin raised ever so slightly. he shrinks as your eyes land on the skin, clenching his jaw when he lifts his bands and reveals the smaller scar on his forehead to you.

“they ruin everything,” he whispers, watching as your fingers ghost over the skin.

“may i?” you’re looking up at him, and he doesn’t know what the emotions swirling behind your eyes are, but he nods anyway. shivering when your fingers make contact with the skin, trailing down the entire length of it.

he jumps a bit when you place a feathery kiss to the top of the scar, he watches as you continue to kiss down his chest, following until the end of the scar. your hands feel cold compared to his now flushed skin, watching as you look up at him.

you don’t say anything as you cup his face in your hands, pressing a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. “they don’t ruin anything, pretty boy,” your words laced with love.

“but-” he begins, the shake of your head cuts him off, the slight furrow of you brows is enough to have him stay quiet.

“no, i don’t wanna hear it,” you frown, “they don’t make you any less attractive, they don’t make you any less of my pretty boy,” the words comfort him in a way he never thought words could. the warmth blooming in his chest has his eyes watering slightly. “in a way they show how much you’ve grown, what you’ve learned and lost” you begin, your fingers intwined with his, grip tightening a bit.

“you don’t think they look, i don’t know, ugly or out of place?” he pouts, still not daring to look into your eyes.

“don’t be silly angel boy,” you grin, pushing his bangs out of his face, pressing a kiss on his forehead, atop his small scar, “nothing about you could ever be ugly, you’re the prettiest.”

his cheeks are dusted pink as a small giggle slips past his lips, finally meeting your gaze when you gently lift his chin with your index finger.

“but as much as i love you, you smell like sweat,” you scrunch your nose up, “so go shower,” laughing when his jaw drops, letting go of your hand and sniffing himself, scrunching his nose in agreement.

satoru doesn’t hesitate to wrap himself around you, smothering you in a hug, laughing loudly as you struggle to free yourself.

after his shower satoru’s eyes linger on his scars, the dewy mirror distorting his reflection slightly. for the first time since he can remember, satoru doesn’t think about that time when his eyes land on his scars, rather he thinks of the love of his life, the one who comforted him through it all, the one waiting for him now.

a small smile on his lips when you welcome him into bed, clinging to him as soon as he slips under the covers. you pull him close to you, peppering kisses along his jaw, then his cheeks and finally landing on his lips.

“you’re my pretty, angel boy,” you whisper, eyes staring into his cerulean ones, “i don’t want you to ever think otherwise,” pressing one last kiss to his lips before cuddling into his chest.

instead of flinching away, he lets you. he lets himself relax as your hand rests over the scar, only the thin fabric of his t shirt separating your fingers from grazing the skin. he relaxes into your touch, smiling when you press kisses to any open you see, whispering compliments into his ear, comments reserved for only him.

slowly satoru finds himself not even glancing at his scars in the mirror, he no longer tugs at his shirt collars, and he doesn’t dread staring at the mirror. he doesn’t sleep with a shirt anymore, and he walks around shirtless, a boost of confidence shooting through him when he catches you staring.

they no longer feel out of place or ugly. not as you kiss them, each press of your lips more filled with love and tenderness than the last. not as your fingers ghost over them, giggling when he flexed his abs under your touch. not when you accidentally let slip that you think he looks hotter with scars.

not when you’re there to kiss away any insecurities he has, to push away any doubts in his mind with a shower of compliments.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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dixons-sunshine · 12 days

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Cleansing The Mind, The Soul And The Body | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF credits to @reedusmcbridedaily.*

Summary: Getting Daryl to take a shower or a bath when he wasn't in the mood was never easy. It took a lot of skillful convincing and even some bribery. Luckily, as his wife, all it took was a batting of your eyelashes and he was putty in your hands—and you took this to your advantage.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Alexandria; post Saviour arc, pre the building of the bridge.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of past abuse, Daryl's scars.

Word count: 1.6k

A/n: A fic born from this idea by @louifaith. Hope you like this! This was originally supposed to be a 500 word blurb but I got carried away lol.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The sun was almost completely gone from the sky. The first stars of the night sky were twinkling brightly outside the window of the bathroom in your shared home with Daryl, and the calming, cool breeze was flowing in through the slightly open window. The water was starting to fill up the bathtub, and you meticulously added just enough bubble bath liquid you had found on a run a few weeks prior.

Behind you, Daryl was reluctantly slowly undressing himself, carelessly tossing his shirt into the laundry hamper. He was grumbling to himself under his breath, making you laugh lightly.

“Whatever you want to say, you can say it to my face, Dixon,” you joked, turning the faucet off and turning around to face your half naked husband.

Daryl rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Nothin',” he answered, slowly stepping out of his jeans and boxers and walking over to the bathtub and settling into the bubbly water. “Let's just get this fuckin' over with already.”

You chuckled affectionately, settling onto your knees beside the bathtub and bringing a hand up to brush through his hair. Even though the archer didn't admit it, the warm water of the bathtub was soothing the aches in his body. And your soft hand gently threading through his hair had him practically melting into the water. Despite originally being against the idea of having you bathe him, insisting that he wasn't a little kid and he didn't need someone cleaning him, if he was already so content with just your hand in his hair, he didn't even want to know how relaxed he'd feel if you were to gently wash him.

Daryl subconsciously leaned into your touch and let out a small, content sigh, eliciting a light laugh from you. “Relaxed? I thought you didn't want this. Didn't you say that you "didn't need to be babied" and that "this would be a waste of time"?”

Daryl grumbled under his breath, lightly swatting your hand away. “Shut up,” he mumbled, trying to hide how his lips twitched up into a smile.

You giggled and leaned over the bathtub, catching his lips for a quick, tender kiss, before pulling away again. “Okay, handsome. What first? Body or hair?”

“Hair,” Daryl replied slowly, suddenly feeling hyper aware of the fact that he was naked and vulnerable in front of your eyes.

You nodded and carefully got to work on his hair, wetting it and carefully applying shampoo, working it into his hair while lightly scratching his scalp. “I love your hair. Long hair really suits you.”

“Yeah?” he asked, looking at you.

“Yeah. It compliments your features perfectly. I love it.”

Daryl closed his eyes and basked in the caring, loving moment. However, he couldn't help the nervousness that creeped up on him. The scars on his body were on full display, but luckily the ones on his back were hidden from your view for now. He chastised himself for feeling so insecure about his scars—you were his partner for two years before you became his wife a couple of months prior, and a loyal companion and friend for two years before that, dating all the way back to the quarry. You were well aware of his scars and about his father's abuse, and always worshipped him and reassured him that his scars were nothing to be ashamed of, but that didn't stop his insecurity from creeping up from time to time.

And what should've been a loving, tender moment could potentially be ruined by his insecurity.

While applying the conditioner to his hair, you noticed his now opened eyes staring ahead at the wall, his eyebrows furrowed together as he subconsciously crossed his arms over his chest, right over his scars. You instantly knew what was going through his mind, and you took it on yourself to lift his spirits.

You gently cupped his cheek with one of your hands, prompting him to look at you. His beautiful, ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes, and you could clearly see the turmoil within their beautiful depths. It made your heart ache to know that someone caused the man you loved so much harm. If his father was still alive, Daryl wouldn't have had to worry about a confrontation with him. No, you would've given the man a taste of his own cruel medicine and after that, you would've killed him.

“Baby,” you whispered softly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

Daryl could feel a blush creep up onto his cheeks. He scoffed and ducked his head, letting his wet hair fall in front of his eyes. “Stop,” he mumbled, but he couldn't help the small smile that crept up onto his face.

You giggled and tucked his hair behind his ears. “You are! You're so beautiful, Daryl. I can't believe how lucky I got with you. I won't be surprised if every woman here has a crush on you. Well, except Tara, but other than her...”

“Nah,” he denied and shook his head in disagreement. “Ain't no woman who would give me the time of day 'cept ya. 'Sides, even if there were, I ain't need no other woman. I already have the perfect one.”

You smiled and leaned over for another kiss, this one lasting longer than the previous one. You pulled back with a soft laugh, admiring the man who you'd come to love above everything else.

“And you swear on your life that you're not a romantic. That last line was smooth, Dixon,” you mused, grabbing the soap bar that smelled like lavender and turned back to the archer. “Is this okay?” you asked, motioning to his body.

Daryl's heart swelled at your thoughtfulness. You never wanted to do something that would make him uncomfortable, and he appreciated you for that. Nobody understood him quite like you did.

“Yeah, s'fine,” he replied with a nod, pushing that nagging voice in the back of his mind away. You loved him, every part of him. If you didn't, you would've run for the hills a long time ago. You weren't freaked out by his scars. You loved him for him, scars and all, and he'd be damned if he let his self deprecating thoughts ruin a good, loving moment.

The two of you remained in a comfortable silence for a few minutes while you continued to wash his body. However, when he slowly sat forward so that you could wash his back, you broke the serene silence with your loving, soft whispers.

“You're so strong, Dar,” you whispered, gently tracing your soapy fingers over his scars. An involuntary shiver traveled across Daryl's spine, eliciting a small giggle from you. “You're a warrior. You've been fighting to live the life you deserve even before the dead started rising. You've been surviving for far longer than most of us. That makes you so fucking brave, baby. And I know you don't feel like it, but you deserved to be loved, and you are loved. Rick loves you. Michonne loves you. Carol, Maggie, Rosita, Aaron, all of them. But I can assure you, nobody loves you as much as I do. I've never loved anyone as much as I love you. I'd die for you. I'd kill for you. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. He swallowed hard, willing the lump in his throat to go away. Hearing that from you was exactly what he needed in that moment. He knew it would be a long journey for him until he actually believed he was worthy of love, worthy of your love, but with you by his side, he knew he'd get there eventually.

“I love ya,” he whispered, staring into your eyes to let you know he meant it. He truly did love you. Nothing could ever change that.

“I love you too,” you answered with a smile, gently rinsing the soap from his back before grabbing the handheld showerhead and instructing him to lean his head back. You carefully rinsed the conditioner from his hair, bringing an end to the bath time.

You grabbed a towel and shook it out, using it to dry your husband. He looked at you in amusement but allowed you to do so, not-so-secretly enjoying the attention you were giving him. You then grabbed the fresh pair of boxers and handed it to him, as well as a pair of flannel pants. He got dressed in them and turned back at you.

“Lift your arms,” you instructed, watching the man lift an eyebrow at you but complying nonetheless. You helped him slip his shirt on, and after he was dressed, you wrapped your arms around him and nuzzled your face into his clothed chest.

Daryl wasted no time in returning the hug. He tightly wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss to the top of your head before resting his chin there. He gently rocked you from side to side.

“Dar?” you whispered, catching his attention.

“Hm?”

“Do you wanna cuddle?”

“Mhm.”

“You wanna be the little spoon?” you asked, giggling as Daryl's arms tightened around you. You already knew what the answer was without him having to say anything. “C'mon. Let's go to bed, handsome.”

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honoredalone · 25 days

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𐙚 I’D RATHER BE KISSING YOUR WAIST

❝ move slow, i don’t wanna get in your way. well the words in your mouth sound cool but i’d rather be kissin’ your waist ❞ keep it up - chase atlantic

♡ gojo satoru is the strongest, but that didn’t leave him without his scars. internal and external. the biggest scar making him shy away, but that didn’t stop you from loving it.

content: talk of scars, self doubt, negative thoughts, sad baby satoru, slight angst, tooth rotting sweetness

heavily inspired by @colonelarr0w, “tracing satoru’s scar”. go check out their works!! they’re amazing, so go support!!

it’s ugly, satoru thinks it’s the most hideous thing on his body. the gross texture, weird color and the memories behind it. the scar circling his waist makes him sick to look at. everyone knows how confident satoru is, well how could he not be? he’s the strongest after all, but even the strongest has his moments of weakness and the scar is just a permanent reminder of just that. he resents himself for it though he’s only human.

“what’re you doin’ there sweet girl?” his voice is raspy and deep from fatigue, a long day of teaching at jujutsu tech will do it to you but he always looks forward to this time of day. when he can lay in bed with you, cuddled into your warmth, his hand caressing the small of your back lovingly. your hand drifting down his torso above his black t-shirt. he didn’t usually wear t-shirts to bed but after the fight he could barely look at his own body without being ashamed so naturally he hid is body not only from himself but from you too. he knew you wouldn’t be disgusted by something so trivial but he couldn’t heals the insecurity that leaked into his brain.

“nothin’ ‘ru just wanna love you.” you whispered, your head resting on his toned chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. your fingers slowly moving to the hem on his shirt. you didn’t miss the way his stomach clenched when your warm hand drifted under his shirt. “you’re so handsome.”

“baby, wait.” satoru almost whines as your fingers feather over the ragged skin. his other hand softly holding your much smaller wrist. you heard the way his heartbeat sped up, the way his breathing became uneven.

“satoru, love.” you sat up, your eyes connecting with his. you hated seeing him so broken over something so small, something that you didn’t care about. nothing about the scar that decorated his beautiful pale skin deterred you away from him whatsoever, he’s your satoru.

“please.” he didn’t know what he meant by that but his eyebrows furrowed together, crystal eyes filling with tears. “it’s not pretty. it’s ugly.” he quietly admits, hand still wrapped around your wrist while the other still sits at the small of your back, thumb caressing you so tenderly. it upset you he thought about himself like that, it crushed your heart. he couldn’t help the fact that the wound scarred and it wasn’t his fault that it made him self conscious but you wanted to show him that it, of course, could never change how you felt about him.

you move to sit on his lap, his hands going limp and laying flat on the plush covers but they find your waist, squeezing them affectionately. looking at him for silent permission to push up his shirt slightly, he only looks at you like a kicked puppy before giving you a tense nod. you slowly push up his shirt, just blow his chest. his torso as gorgeous as always, fair skin strong and smooth. he was beautiful, breathtakingly beautiful. he took your breath away everytime, before and after the wound. you rest your hands onto the scar, thumbs softly rubbing the rough skin. his breath shook, he closed his eyes to prevent tears cascading down his blushed cheeks.

“you’re so handsome satoru.” your voice soft, melting over him like honey. he could just sob, he was barely keeping it together when he felt your warm breath fan over the wounded skin. “my pretty boy. so beautiful.” you place soft kisses, all over. his hands shook on your sides as his fingers tighten attempting to dampen his nerves. his words were stuck in his throat, he could barely formulate a sentence in his head because what could he say. open mouthed kisses making his stomach warm and tickle slightly, making his head spin.

“fuck, sweet girl. i love you. love you ‘s much.” his words wavered as he spoke, his mind nearly blank. kissing up from his waist, to right below his chest he sits up, wrapping both of his arms around his waist. he looks at you so sweetly, lmost defeated. his arms retracting from around you to the neckline of his black shirt, slowly taking it off and discarding it to the side and looking over your face again. he knew that he couldn’t fully look at his scar and not feel badly but he could learn to like it, just because you did.

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acourtofmenandthirst · 6 months

Text

Love You In The Dark

Azriel x Reader, based on Love You In The Dark by Adele :/

Warnings: angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.4K

“Don’t look at me like that.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper, but he didn’t miss how your words came out trembling, or how your dry throat constricted as you spoke.

He shook his head. You had always known he was a male of few words but you didn’t know that he, in that moment, didn’t trust himself to speak. He knew his words would come out broken, shattered on a muffled scream. He had to blink away the tears just to watch you stuff clothes into your bag.

You were ashamed, truly, that it had come to this. That the only solution you could find was to pack your bag and go. No matter how many nights you lay awake, convincing yourself that you were the crazy one, making up stories and rumors, you’d come to the same conclusion.

Leave before he does.

But what you couldn’t do was go without a goodbye. You knew it would be easier to hastily grab your most valued items and disappear into the high mountains of the Night Court without any words exchanged between the two of you.

But you couldn’t.

And he couldn’t stop watching.

Azriel grabbed for you - he reached out those scarred hands, the ones you loved so much - encircled your wrists and tugged you closer to him. But you stood firm, squeezing your eyes shut and shook his hands off of you. And that hurt him, you knew it, shrinking away from his touch like it burned you. He knew the feeling all too well.

You didn’t mean to, after all. You were being cruel to be kind.

It was hard to navigate the small cottage that had become your shared home. His clothing had taken over your wardrobe - you’d fumbled through piles of neatly folded sweaters and shirts that had belonged to him, that smelled so strongly of night and rain, in search of your own items to stuff in your bag.

In the past few years you and Azriel had been dating, he’d moved into your little cottage. It turned into his reprieve, after spending most of his adult life moving around, he’d never had a place to call home. The winged male spent his time flitting between the House of Wind and the townhouse, the Riverside estate and the cold Illyrian war camps. Once he’d spent a few nights with you, it quickly turned into your shared home.

He still spent time away from you, when his High Lord had ordered him as chaperone for their brother and the moody Fae female, but those nights were some of the longest you’d felt. It was no longer just your bed, it was too roomy and far too cold without him. The kitchen no longer smelled of tea first thing in the morning, and everything felt too spacious when there wasn’t a pair of leathery wings taking up all the space.

The male trailed you everywhere you went. He followed you step-for-step as you turned all around the bedroom in search of your clothes, so often strewn about the tiny area; his broad shoulders filled the doorframe as you swiftly grabbed your soap and salves from the bathroom. You knew he could do more to stop you - he was so much stronger than this. He could grab you in those big arms, hold on to you and never let you go. He could cocoon you in those dark wings and wrap the both of you in warmth - safety - like he used to do in the beginning.

But he didn’t.

And that’s why you continued.

He still wouldn’t leave you alone after what you told him. Once you said you were leaving, he hadn’t left your side. He tried to talk you out of it, to promise things would change, that it would get better - he hadn’t known you’d been thinking about this for the past few months. How you were left with no other choice.

It would hurt the male now - the normally stoich, proud Illyrian whose poker face never faltered. You told him late at night, when you were hoping the darkness would conceal the way his lips parted in surprise, the way his brows furrowed in confusion. But those hazel eyes glinted in the moonlight, and you could have sworn you’d never seen them so shiny. You spent the next few seconds - that moved like centuries - convincing yourself that those weren’t tears brimming in his eyes. His arms moved to constrict around you, to reach for you in the bed that you felt go cold many moons ago. You were too quick, already reaching for your bag and shoveling things inside.

You’d bitten your tongue long enough about it, the two new females that had entered your boyfriend’s life. Not only his, of course, but his family’s - and everyone seemed dead set on playing matchmaker. Not in front of you, for that matter, but you heard them talk behind your back about how perfect these other females were for him.

Gwyn, an angel seemingly sent from the Mother above, who so often trained with him, would be the perfect match - body, mind, and soul.

There was an unspoken bond between them already, one that nobody else on the land was privy to knowing besides them. It was something forgotten long ago, but something you saw renewed in those golden blue eyes each time Gwyn looked at Azriel. She gazed at him with admiration, both his fighting style and his calming presence.

If they weren’t discussing training lessons for the day, it was the jokes poking fun at his brother - how he absolutely drooled watching anything Nesta did - or about the newest book she was reading. Azriel, who had seemingly read every book in existence, nodded along, even adding his own commentary on the novel.

He had built up quite the collection between the books he brought into your shared home, a mix between his old worn favorites and the stacks you had lining the walls and tables. But you soon noticed the fantasy and romance books he held on his lap before bed, the pages were worn and well loved, even the paper smelled different. What was sharing books between friends? There was nothing to it - but you couldn’t help but feel the tinge of jealousy turn your chest red.

Then there was Elain, the third Archeron sister, the perfect opposite to Azriel.

You often heard the High Lady whisper to her mate and newfound family: “Three brothers and three sisters - how perfect is that.” Something Azriel just shook his head about - but never outright refusing. You just listened quietly as if you’d never heard anything at all. You pretended not to see the way he gazed at her - the Seer - or the way his fingers brushed hers when she handed over a plate or pastry.

It was those fingers you knew he didn’t like people to see. The hands that you’d spent years trying to get him to touch you with, to not care what they looked like or how rough they felt. They grazed along her pale skin, so smooth and flawless, in the same soft manner he’d touch you - your thighs, your stomach. And as his eyes held her round ones, you wondered if he imagined the way her body felt, the supple curve of her breast or her straight spine. Azriel had an appreciation for the arts, why would he not be with the most beautiful of the sisters?

She always baked for him. She baked for everyone, really, but always insisted he - it was always him - try her treats. Azriel never complained when it came to food, but he never was one for gushing over how sweet the rolls were or how delicious the jam was. But her insistence with feeding him - such an intimate act in Pyrthian, to any Fae, really - didn’t sit right with you.

You hadn’t felt further from him. It seemed that everything was changing. You were, too. Even though you spent nearly every night together, you felt defeated, unable to compare to the new excitement he must have felt with these two females, both fawning over him. His family only encouraged it, too. Even when you spent those nights together, wrapped tightly in his arms, you felt the space between you grow.

Azriel had given you the world - you never thought that you’d have to spend another day of your life without him. But you couldn’t shake that feeling from you. The feeling that he thought about those other females, that he’d wonder what it would be like to be with them, to spend time with them. Those rare times when you’d join them for parties or intimate dinners, you saw their eyes linger on him, on you. And those hazel eyes next to you often fell to one of the two.

You’d never dared to ask him about them.

You knew leaving wasn’t fair. You didn’t bring any of it up until the day you decided to go. He’d only brushed it off, expressing that he wasn’t actually interested in either of them, but rather in the conversation. There were nights he’d stay late at the River House, where you knew all of them resided together as a family. They’d stay up late drinking and laughing, sharing intimate stories and overly friendly touches.

Once he returned home, he offered you a kiss and then crawled into bed next to you, not pulling you into him or laying half-sprawled over your chest like he normally would. You swore you smelled roses on him that night.

You knew he’d never touched either of them. He wouldn’t disgrace you like that. But his family so often brought it up. Possibly being mates with someone they already had known and loved - let it be the Archeron sister or the favored Valkyrie - they all had much more in common anyway, and it would be far preferable than him spending eternity with an outsider such as yourself.

But that wouldn’t stop him from wondering.

You couldn’t carry on like everything was fine.

So you packed your bags, offering Azriel his fair chance at finding who he might think is his mate. Either one of them would be lovely to him - you knew both the females would offer him the world on a silver platter.

The hardest part would be choosing which one.

“Please don’t go, (Y/N),” he whispered, tilting his head down closer to you. He’d followed you from the bathing room back to your bed, and one of his hands fell to your hip.

“Stop asking me to stay,” you replied, ignoring his touch and continuing with your packing - you were almost done.

He swallowed the lump in his throat - you saw it. His eyes flitted between the two of yours, dragging down to your lips. “And stop looking at me like that,” you added, breathlessly. So you had to break the trance, blinking away any tears that threatened to pool in your eyes.

Azriel almost laughed. The breath came out jagged, loose from his lips, but he could barely stifle the exasperation. “There will never be a day when I don’t look at you like this, (Y/N).” His voice was low but unwavering.

“It’s not you, Azriel,” you huff, resisting the urge to throw everything in your arms to the ground. “It’s not the way you look at me or how you don’t - it’s how you look at them.” His brows knitted in confusion. “The way you treat them is the same way you treat me and - ” you huffed a sigh. “I can’t do it anymore.”

He did lose it - he grabbed your arms - palms hot, burning with emotion. “They aren’t you, (Y/N).”

You stared up at him, anger washing over your sadness. “But you treat them like they are!” Everything fell from your hands as you shook out of his grasp. Taken aback, Azriel straightened and watched you closely. “Do you know how long it took for us to get here? For you to even talk to me? Touch me?” You stifled the urge to pull at your hair. “I feel so defeated - watching you joke and laugh with them. You and I are so far apart now - you’re a whole new person!”

He shook his head, black hair shifting slightly with the motion. “I’m not - we should talk about this. You can’t bottle everything up and then just leave.”

“I’m not just leaving, though, Azriel.” His heart thudded at how you said his name - how you spat it like it burned our tongue. “I’ve been in the dark for so long - you never bring me around your family - because you know they don’t like me.” You cut him off before he could interject. “They keep trying to set you up with Elain or Gwyn! I know what they say behind my back, Azriel, you aren’t the only one who knows the secrets of that River House.”

Azriel’s chest heaved with each stabbing breath he forced into his lungs. His hands flexed at his sides as he held himself back - he wanted to grab you, throw you onto the bed, cage you under his body so you had no choice but to hear him out. He wanted to kiss you, to hold you, to tell you that you were so fucking wrong and he would always choose you over them - over his family.

But he couldn’t.

And he didn’t.

So you took a step back and grabbed the leather bag from the bed. Whatever you already had was good enough - you could rebuy whatever else you needed. Besides, it would probably be better to leave anything that would remind you of the male you were leaving behind. Mother above - if that were the case, you’d truly be leaving with nothing at all.

“I meant what I said, Azriel, every word.” He was surprised at your sudden shift in tone, as your voice fell to a whisper. His shadows hissed in his ears, expecting more yelling - hell they were about to start screaming at him, too. “I love you - I don’t regret a gods damned thing.”

“I love you, (Y/N),” his voice cracked. Those hazel eyes were glazed over with silver, finally realizing you’d had this prepared. It was premeditated, you’d fallen out of love with him long ago.

“But I want to live, Azriel. Not in anyone’s shadow, and not while every one of your family members tries to arrange marriage for you.”

Azriel had never lied to you. He wouldn’t start now. There was nothing he could do to stop their silly gossip, to stop wishing for their friends to flirt with him - not without breaking the family he’d worked so hard to build. “What am I supposed to do without you?”

“You’ll survive.”

#azriel x you #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #acotar #angst #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader

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fearthhereaper · 1 month

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aemond being arrogant and smug about going to war. he is overconfident in his conviction that he will come back victorious when alicent frets over him leaving for battle.

when the day he's supposed to leave with their army comes alicent is there to say goodbye and wish him well. he sees her worried expression and takes her hands in his promising that he will return having won the battle for their family.

he squeezes her hands and says his final goodbyes. climbs on a horse at the head of the army, next to criston and aegon who will be leading it.

suddenly he's overtaken by a feeling of unease. he turns his head back and sees alicent watching the procession. his stomach drops, he feels nervous, unsettled.

before he knows it he stops, gets off the horse and hearing criston yell his name in the background walks runs back to alicent and hugs her tightly. neither of them says a word until he lets go. she touches his face, caresses the scar on his cheek and he leaves without a word.

climbs back on the horse, ignoring aegon's sour, jealous expression and criston's questions.

he feels ashamed of showing that weakness, of feeling like a young man he is, when he's the one riding the most formidable dragon alive. especially in front of the soldiers he's supposed to help lead.

an older man rides up to him, clasps his shoulder startling him out of his musings.

"young or old, all men cry out for their mothers when they're dying on the field, my prince. only a fool would fault you for embracing yours."

#hotd #house of the dragon #alicent hightower #aemond targaryen #alicent x aemond #team green #i have a lot of feelings about them #little does he know he'll never see her again

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exhaslo · 4 months

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Puzzle Pieces Ch17 (End)

(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)

Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16

Warning: Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex

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It was another beautiful day in the city of Nueva York. The snow was sticking to the ground and the Christmas spirit was in the air. Everyone in the city was doing their last minute Christmas shopping while making sure they had their ingredients for dinner.

You were not shy to being one of those last minute shoppers. It was the day before Christmas and you were panicking about making sure you had everything to make for dinner. You wanted to treat Miguel well since this was going to be your first Christmas together.

It had been two weeks since the incident with Eddie. Miguel had reassured you of his death and even mentioned something about your parents calling off the engagement. As much as you wanted to ask how, you knew that Miguel was always going to take care of you. It was so reassuring to have him by your side.

Humming quietly to yourself as you walked down the aisle of your old job, you smiled spotting the deli. Your former supervisor gave you a wave and motioned you over. As you drew closer, one of the workers placed a ham inside your cart.

"On the house," Your supervisor said. You just smiled,

"T-Thank you!"

Returning to your shopping, you couldn't stop smiling since this was the first time you were enjoying yourself. It did feel slightly weird since you did have a bodyguard. Miguel wanted to make sure that you were always with someone and safe.

Miguel was sure to make you as comfortable as possible. You were the girlfriend to the leader of the strongest mafia in the city. It was a scary thought.

"Do you have a dress for tomorrow night?" Peter asked, wanting to make small talk since you were getting overwhelmed with the amount of people in the store.

"O-Oh, y-yes...L-Lyla and I...went s-shopping for one...Um...D-Do I need t-to bring...anything?" You asked, getting in line. Peter glanced around,

"Just a smile on Miguel's face. I think that will cheer everyone up," Peter said with a chuckle.

You couldn't help but smile as well. You've gotten to know some of Miguel's men and women. They were all really nice people. Nothing from what the movies portrayed. One might think you were insane for getting comfortable with the mafia.

"O-Oh, P-Peter...could we stop by....one more place....please?" You asked. Peter glanced down at you,

"Of course!"

---------

It was an unusual sight. You were standing in front of a mirror wearing a gorgeous dress. The only issue you were having were your scars. As beautiful as dress was, your scars showed your ugly side. Not even makeup could cover them.

Tears started to well up as you went to grab your sweater. How could you present yourself as Miguel's girlfriend if you looked like this? What were people going to think?

"¿Conejita? (Bunny?), what's wrong?" Miguel asked as he entered the room and saw you crying, "Don't cry, look how beautiful you are!"

"B-But...m-my scars, Miggy," You whimpered. Miguel fixed your hair and pecked your lips,

"Are nothing to be ashamed of, but if you wish to cover them, then I understand." He said and fixed your sweater, "I still love you all the same."

"I...love you too," You sniffed, wiping your tears away, "I...I just don't...want your people...to think...y-you k-know..."

"Whatever they think, they keep to themselves. My people know better than to insult me or you," Miguel whispered, resisting the urge to call you anything but his wife.

"Miggy~" You cooed happily, enjoying these moments.

You glanced at Miguel and squeaked, seeing the lust in his eyes. Before you could protest, Miguel picked you up and placed you on the bed, wanting to hog your beauty all to himself. You whined, afraid of ruining your dress, but Miguel made sure to be careful.

"M-Miguel~ N-No...m-more~ ah~ I-I gotta...s-stand mhm~ f-for the p-party!" You cried out as he bullied his cock into you.

"Just once more, baby. I want everyone to know that you're mine." Miguel hissed as he sucked on your neck.

You arched your back, moaning loudly as Miguel grew rougher with his thrusts. His grip was tight against your hips as his dick rubbed against your sweet spot, causing you to cum. Shaking in pleasure, you whimpered as Miguel kept his pace, painting your insides white.

"M-Miggy," You panted softly. Miguel licked his lips, glancing down at you,

"Just one more, please?"

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

Your face was flustered as you held onto Miguel. Your legs were shaky and quite numb, so Miguel had to carry you into the party. It was none the less embarrassing. Plus, your neck was covering with Miguel's love bites.

"T-This is embarrassing," You whispered. Miguel chuckled softly as he entered the Alchemax building,

"It's only for a short while. I usually stay at this party for an hour, the other two hours." He explained and placed you on your feet, "But, if you want to leave early to continue celebrating Christmas-"

"Mhpm!" You huffed your cheeks out, giving a slight glare towards your sex driven boyfriend, "W-We're b-binge watching m-movies remember?" You whined. Miguel couldn't hold back his laugh,

"I know, baby. I can't help but tease." You felt captivated by his smile, "Just stay by my side, okay?"

"O-Okay,"

Everything felt like it was moving so fast. You refused to let go of Miguel, not used to the fancy party life. Alchemax was different and you weren't sure if you liked it yet. The food was fancy and the people seemed snobby. It was no wonder why Miguel wasn't too fond of this job.

The only good thing about this party was that people only paid half a mind to you. Everyone tried to avoid Miguel unless it was a simple introduction. Miguel was the CEO, he had to make his rounds and a small speech.

Sitting a small private table, you smiled as Miguel handed you a small plate of food. He kissed your head and went up to the stage to make his yearly speech. After he was done, the two of you were going to go to his more 'lively' party as Miguel called it.

"Is she dating the boss?"

"Can't be, look at her."

"But those marks-"

"Just a fling. We have a better chance."

Ah, there is was. You hadn't left Miguel's side until now, so you had avoided hearing the whispers about you. Of course, everyone was curious about you. The CEO of their company had brought a girl they had never seen before.

You wanted to tell them that you were Miguel's girlfriend. You wanted to tell them that they were wrong. That they would never stand a chance with Miguel, but you were still afraid. Just because you had gotten comfortable with Miguel, didn't mean that you were ready to confront others yet.

"Please, do enjoy the rest of the night. My wife and I have other matters to attend. I shall see you all in the New Year," Miguel spoke before leaving the stage.

You hadn't even heard his last part, still playing with your sweater sleeves about what those girls said. You didn't even notice Miguel approach you from behind, his arms wrapping around yours.

"You didn't eat. Was the food not to your liking?" He asked. You flinched and shook your head,

"S-Sorry...I um...spaced out." You whispered and scooted closer to him, "A-Are we leaving...?"

"Yes, perhaps you'll like the food there better."

Miguel lifted you up, ignoring your small protests and his staring underlings. He held you close until the two of you arrived at his other party. It was already lively since some of the Peters had gotten a little drunk.

"C-Can I ask-" You giggled lowly, seeing Miguel's slightly annoyed expression, "H-How did you come to hire so many p-people with the s-same name?"

"I don't know. I really don't know," Miguel huffed and watched as his mafia went wild, "Let me get you a pla-"

"THE BOSS'S WIFE WANTS FOOD!" One of the Peter's yelled. You were too focused on Miguel leading to a table to hear the yelling,

"BRING THE QUEEN HER FOOD!"

"FOOD! FOOD! FOOD!"

"What the hell are they going on about now?!" Miguel barked. Lyla came over with Jessica and a few other girls,

"Everyone's excited to finally meet (Y/N). They're bringing her a plate of food now," She said with a grin.

"E-Excited to s-see...me?" You questioned in shock.

"Yea, you're the one who thawed this grumps heart." Jessica hummed while Gwen and Margo snickered to themselves.

Miguel kept his quiet glare since you were enjoying their company. He turned his attention to his drunk underlings who brought you a large enough plate to even feed Miguel. Wondering if he should make his speech now, Miguel waited on you.

He enjoyed the smile on had on your face as you talked to the girls. Your eyes sparkling ever so slightly at the mountain of food. You seemed to be happy here, that's what mattered.

"I'll be right back," Miguel whispered in your ear.

You shivered in delight and pecked his lips, wishing him luck. Miguel groaned lowly, hurrying to the main stage to calm his eager crowd. Oh, how tempting you were still. Miguel was going to make sure to keep on giving all night long.

"Excited to give Miguel your gift tomorrow?" Lyla asked, ignoring Miguel's speech. You felt your cheeks warm up,

"I-I really...r-really hope he likes it."

"He will. Miguel will cherish anything you give him."

"I trust you all to keep this city safe again this year. My wife and I shall lead this family to success-"

"I-I'm just worried...t-that he'll think it's...cheap..."

"Miguel doesn't care about that. Listen to this, his brother gave him a baseball from one of his games and Miguel still has it in a glass case!" Lyla grinned.

"As you've all seen, my wife is quite shy and nervous when it comes to new people, so I expect you all to behave and-"

"O-Oh, yes! M-Miguel told me that story. It's s-super sweet," You cooed, hiding your smile, "S-So...he will like my g-gift~"

"HEIR! HEIR! HEIR!"

"The hell are they yelling now?" Jessica huffed, crossing her arms towards the crowd. You titled your head, drinking some wine,

"Hair?"

"Ignore them," Lyla snickered.

You were still confused, but kept enjoying your meal and drink. Eventually Miguel returned and cozied up to you, claiming that he needs a break already. You laughed at his childishly behavior, but indulged anyway.

After a while, you were tipsy and ready to go home. As ready as you were to sleep, Miguel made sure to keep you up for a few more hours.

Tis was the season of giving after all.

---------

You let out a soft whine as Miguel scooped you up from the bed. He had you wrapped in the blanket, carrying you over to his large living room. You rubbed your eyes, glancing at his beautiful Christmas tree and tons of gifts placed below it.

You gasped at the sight, shocked to see so many presents. Miguel chuckled towards your reaction and placed you down on the couch. He pecked you lips and went to bring some eggnog. You were still in shock, wondering if your gift was going to be good enough again.

"Where would you like to start, Mi pequeño conejita (my little bunny)?" Miguel asked, handing you a mug. You glanced towards him, placing the cup against your lips,

"C-Can I...give y-you your gift...first?" You asked.

Miguel happily agreed if that was your wish. Miguel watched you struggle to grab his present from a hidden spot. You were cute as you struggled to walk. Returning to the couch, you let out an 'oomph' as you fell on Miguel, handing him his present.

"M-Merry Christmas!" You chirped.

Miguel brought you into his embrace, opening the gift with ease. His eyes widen, seeing that you got him a glass Spider figure. Miguel glanced towards you, watching as you touched the spider, opening a small compartment.

"Tadaaa," You chirped. Miguel glanced inside the compartment and chuckled,

"Chocolate hearts? How cute, you can't even tell they were in there."

"I-I've noticed that y-you liked Spiders....y-you know, before I-I knew you were part of the S-Spider mafia. T-The hearts...I um...I wanted to um....r-represent...m-my love...for you." You stuttered, feeling slightly embarrassed now.

"I love it, mi amor (my love)" Miguel brought you in for a deep kiss, "Allow me to give you one special gift first."

You could feel small hearts floating above your head as Miguel kept giving you kisses here and there. He went behind the tree and brought you a medium size gift. Curious, you opened it and saw that Miguel got you a custom made puzzle.

"Let's build it together," He whispered in your ear.

You muffled a whimper as Miguel sat you between his legs. You could feel your heart race as his hands engulfed yours. The two of you were working on a special puzzle together. You were both nervous and excited to see what it will form into.

"Will?" You questioned.

"Keep going,"

A shiver ran down your spine as Miguel kept whispering and kissing your ear. He grabbed your hands, working on the other side of the puzzle now.

"Me?"

"Ten piedad, te voy a devorar si sigues siendo tan linda. (Have mercy, I'm going to devour you if you keep being this cute.)" Miguel groaned.

You bit your lower lip as you kept working on the puzzle. You could feel Miguel's erection already, making you really wonder what the puzzle was. Your eyes started to widen as you saw another word being formed. Miguel then covered your eyes as his hands motioned yours to finish the puzzle.

"Ready?" Miguel moved his hands away from yours eyes.

"Will you m-marry me?" You gasped in awe, then turned to face Miguel, "Y-Yes! Yes!" You cried, tackling him in a hug. Miguel wrapped his arms around you waist, laying against the floor,

"(Y/N), I love you so, so much. I promise to take care of you now and forever," Miguel said with a low hum. This time, you were the one to cover him in kisses,

"M-Miguel, t-thank you so much f-for treating me well. I-I love you so much it hurts! I-I can't wait to be called your wife!"

"Oh? I've been calling you that all night." Miguel chuckled lowly, sliding your panties down, "I thought it was so cute how you didn't hear a single one."

"Y-You were?!"

"Everyone knows that you're my wife," Miguel laughed, sitting back up and kissing you deeply, "And now, you will be."

"Thank you, M-Miguel," You pecked his lips happily. Miguel picked you up, hovering over you on the couch,

"No, thank you, (Y/N)."

Every one is a puzzle just waiting to find their missing pieces. It may take some time and there maybe moments where you think you found the right piece, but patience will reward you in the end. For you will finally find all of your puzzle pieces eventually.

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THANK YOU ALL FOR READING AND SUPPORTING THIS STORY!!! I couldn't have done it without all of your love and support! As sad as I am to see this story end, what ends with one, gives life to another!

I have already started on my next story. I present:

Corruption (Villain!Miguel x Hero!Reader)

Thank you all again for reading and enjoying my story! I hope to see you all again in my future projects~

@migueloharacumslut @18lkpeters @deputy-videogamer @leahnicole1219 @synamonthy @thedevax @jolynesposts @thraetor @freehentai @2099hitmylineyline @vvampir3s @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying @secretadmirerisnowonline @jadeloverxd @bunnibitez @oharasfilipinawife @randomgoosegame @lilbanas @daisy-artfield @axi-moore @mimiemie @darkfairy102190 @jazzyj1011 @mcmiracles @innercreationflower @spoderssimp @thel0velykey190 @moonvoidpng @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @scaleniusrm @love4saturn @nyxgoddessofchaos13 @slutty-chronicles @ghstypaint @migueloharastruelove @brainmatterdump @a060403 @trendyharold @yannauauau @kimivixen @angel-xx-1 @nxrdamp @miguelzslvtz @lynxslokley @wafflefries786 @pochapo @what-the-jams @flaps200 @ii-angelsrolltheireyes-ii @nakimushiohime @tojishugetiddies @aya-world @supercowgirl04 @mysteris-things @daisy-artfield @mcmiracles @alexa4040 @llama--drama @kpopscoups17130000 @havkjhdecs @ruexvn @tojishugetiddi @openup-yourmind @black-swan-blog27 @xstarsdiary @kiddisquacking @gachagator @yujyujj @emmyrxx @blackteamint @sockears @black-swan-blog27 @soraya-daydreams @byjessicalotufo @nanoinn @bunnibitez @aockskcw @l3laze @dimitri-needs-therapy

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #miguel x reader #spiderman miguel

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diejager · 23 days

Note

Just the boys and König finding sh scars on reader, and/or helping them stitch a wound? Platonic, if possible

I’m gonna make the assumption (I might be horribly wrong about this…) that sh means self-harm???

Cw: Self-harm, blood, scars, protective behaviour, helicopter parent (Price and Laswell), angst?, fluff?, stitches, tell me if I missed any.

There’s a certain level of… panic in their eyes, the rising waves of fright until it threatened to drown them in a thick and dark abyss, swallowing their minds whole at the single fear of losing you to something they could have stopped; prevention they thought, a plan B in case plan A failed, but if they didn’t know, how could they have time to set it up? König almost had a heart attack when he broke the door at Gaz’s call, finding you slumped against the bathroom door, one hand on the door knob and another - the bloodied one - limply clutching your phone, eyes blinking blearily at them, clouded in confusion and fatigue.

It didn’t take them long to call the rest, rushing you to the infirmary after your accident, cutting too deep and risking death from your slight slip of the hand. Laswell and Price were called, finding the four of them seated beside you after they stormed into the sterile room. You looked ashamed, not about the act of cutting yourself to feel more than the depression and darkness in your heart, but the act of being caught, letting them know of your… ways to refresh your mind. The shameful tilt of your head downwards, staring with heavy eyes at your bandaged wrist, cleaned and stitched up.

Ghost had forced your sleeves up, rolling them until your biceps to show the extent of it, the many lines, crisscrossing in old and jagged lines of paler skin, standing starkly from the usual flush. He wasn’t disappointed at you, never, from a person who cut themselves to another, he was more so disappointed in himself from not catching the signs —a dark omen of pain and sorrow, forgetting that he was blinded by your happy smile to catch the tired gleam in your eyes.

Both he and König knew the pain, the new scars that no one asked for, but kept adding and adding until it would eventually tear your arm off, limb from limb, piece by piece until you lost the will to keep on. He took on smoking instead, as self-destructive as cutting was, but the thicket of nicotine would calm his loud mind, and König had a therapist, someone he was… willing to talk to when things got too hard. They understood and felt, but failed you all the same, despite everything they vowed, they almost lost you because they were too blind to see past your thin mask.

It was a feeling shared by the two sergeants, the more sensitive and sympathetic of the bunch, more in tune with heartfelt affection and human socialisation than the others, and the two weren’t afraid to voice it. The anger at themselves, the rage that crossed Soap’s face when he curled his fingers, bleeding his palms in the same manner you bled your feelings, hidden and alone in your dark room, bathroom and floor stained in the iron-rich ichor.

Gaz made a face, lips pulled down, brows pinched and eyes wet, tears fluttering at the edge of his lashes. He was a soft man, feeling and sympathetic, nearing empathetic whenever he wanted to feel what you felt, but in a crisis like this, where the thought had crossed his mind once or twice, but never acted it, he was lost. Confused and afraid, a daze where he thought that - perhaps - was how you felt when he wasn’t there to ease your pain, ignorant of the subtle signs of agony in your heart, screaming for help when your mouth wouldn’t utter a single word.

Price and Laswell hovered, combat helicopters roaming around you for any danger, watchful and worried, confident in their helping hand, but worried you would need help. Wanting to help, but afraid that needing it would mean something much deeper, and today was just the boiling point of it, the discovery of your sorrow and their dread and disgust at their inactivity. Laswell had made a few phone calls, her voice hushed as she spoke, eyeing Price for corrections and agreements until they came to the same consensus.

If you hadn’t known any better, you would have considered them your parents, loving and caring, tender and affectionate, just as the rest of them, all friends and teammates you considered brothers. Yet, there was a stigma to it, one imposed by normal people that made you feel a certain way. Perhaps that why you hadn’t spoke about it, the dreadful need to keep it hidden until it was forced into the light.

“You don’t have to do it alone anymore, luv,” Price promised, his low and rumbling voice that exhumed calm tenderness.

That was all it took you to sob, a dam creaking and breaking, letting your tears flood outwards while you clutched at the lapel of his jacket, hiding away in the familiar musk and cologne of his parental figure.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

#x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #konig mw2 #konig x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz x reader #soap mw2 #soap x reader #price mw2 #price x reader #laswell mw2 #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #platonic relationships #tw self harm

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gatitties · 1 year

Text

Care and comfort

─ Yandere!bonten x motherly!reader (platonic)

─ Summary: you were just trying to help someone and you ended up being the obsession of a criminal organization

─ Warnings: obsession, stalking, toxic behaviors, kidnapping, slight mention of drugs and stuff related

Part two / Part three / Part four / Part five

You turned on the light in your kitchen, almost tripping over one of the stools because your eyes were still half closed, you had fallen asleep correcting the last report that the newspaper where you worked had sent you. You had noticed that you hadn't even had dinner before, so you made a quick meal before heading back to work, but before you could touch your laptop you heard a crash at the front door, as if someone had collapsed and slammed against it.

It's not that you lived in one of the worst areas of the city, but it was strange that something happened in the wee hours of the morning, you walked slowly, opening the door, or trying to, because the body of a man was blocking the entrance, a few minutes of struggle was enough for the unconscious body to fall to the other side, leaving you to open the door completely and contemplate the man.

He had one of those mullets that were fashionable among young people, several earrings, some scars on his mouth and stains of what appeared to be vomit and blood, okay, you did not want to interfere with anyone who seemed to be a drug addict, but on second thought, it was better to help the man than to have to give statements to the police as to why there was a dead body at your door.

You dragged him home and laid him on the couch, laying him on his side so he wouldn't choke on his own vomit if he ever did, though after further scanning you decided he needed a good shower. You did not feel self-conscious in doing this job, you are of an age and you have worked in many things, among them you had a position taking care of the elderly, all kinds of care being more specific, so no, you did not feel uncomfortable having to wash this man.

You changed his clothes and put his striped suit in the wash, leaving him back on the sofa, you continued with your work, reading and quickly correcting the errors you found, the night passed quite quickly and you fell asleep once you were completely done your work, sending it to the head of the newspaper.

The next morning you woke up with a gun pointed at your temple and that man's pretty eyes staring back at you, good way to start the day indeed.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Are you young people these days so ungrateful? It was you who passed out on the doorstep of my house at two in the morning."

He lowered the gun, seeming to remember some parts of his night, he sat still a little bewildered and with his head elsewhere because of the drugs taken yesterday, he looked at you in silence now noticing his change of clothes as well as the smell of his hair, it was not the smell of his usual shampoo.

"Did you…?"

"Yes, oh, don't be ashamed, it's been a long time since I stopped being interested in that kind of thing, at a certain age the only thing one looks for is economic stability and peace of mind, are you going to stay for lunch?"

He blinked contemplating your calm form, he didn't know if he was still under the pressure of narcotics, but he didn't reject your proposal, Sanzu was anything but embarrassing, however he felt like a little boy next to you being cared for by the mother he never had.

For your part, he was not the first brat you helped, you had married friends, with grown children or adolescents who did not stop getting into small problems, you acted like the aunt who drinks wine and criticizes everyone at family gatherings, for your attitude, they found it easier to access you when they had problems they didn't want your friends ─their moms─ to know about, you always had their backs unless it was something that was detrimental to their health, then you wouldn't hesitate to call your friends to give their children a lecture, even as adults.

That same attitude was the one that made Sanzu visit you more often than he would like to admit, although most of the times he left scolded for coming home drunk or drugged, you never closed the door on him, how could you? You weren't heartless enough to leave him lying in the street when he came desperately asking for help with some of his hallucinations.

Your kindness led him to an obsession towards you, you were like his little lifeboat, his conscious part about all the madness in which he was involved, he began to watch you from afar, observing your interactions with strangers and friends, it bothered him, it bothered him that you were just as kind to others as you were to him, he wanted all your attention just for him. He was also worried about you, he had seen the worst part of the rotten world in which he lived, someone with a soft heart like you could not survive against the predators of this society.

Of course, Bonten executives were not stupid, usually most of them lived in the headquarters, they had private properties where they spent a few days or weeks, but most of the time they were in that headquarter, especially Sanzu, that's why they started to noticing his absence more and more, it's not like he had to explain himself to anyone ─except if Mikey asked him to─ but his behavior was strange, didn't he arrive drugged? It seemed like a bad joke, clothes without a bloodstain? he was definitely doing something outside their radar.

Not that the others cared much, but the Haitani brothers were a bit nosy, like gossips who want to know why their partner seems happier when he comes back in the morning after a night of 'fun'. They discussed it a couple of times with the others when Sanzu wasn't around, and they all agreed that his behavior was unusual, so they began to investigate what he did in his leisure.

This led to an ordinary person like you being watched by two executives of the largest criminal organization in the country. At first they thought that you were a whore with whom he had fallen in love, but investigating more about you, they discovered that you were a lady with an established daily life, there was nothing about you that stood out and yet you seemed so interesting.

"Sanzu please, I need to finish correcting this report, I promise you that later you can have all the hugs you want."

"No."

He tightened his grip on your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck, you were trying to do your job but Sanzu found your hugs too comforting after you once found him crying ─from being drugged─, killing people leaves obstacles in any person and as much as he loved it, certain deaths of innocent people always ended up flying over his thoughts like ghosts that tormented him from time to time.

The sound of the doorbell made you stop typing, moving the man slightly away to go to open, you were not expecting a visitor which was strange to you, Sanzu felt a chill when you opened the door, meeting the eyes of the youngest of the Haitani directly, he got up quickly without even letting you ask what those guys wanted, he pulled you back before Ran could drag you with him.

"What the fuck are you two doing here?"

"Make sure you don't have too much fun, are you so in love that you forget the meetings?"

They started a little discussion while you looked blankly, you and Rindou looked at each other in silence while the other two talked, you greeted with a brief nod, thinking they were Sanzu's coworkers.

Luckily just when the discussion was getting more heated, a 'ding' coming from the oven threw everyone off concentration, taking advantage of this you got out of the man's strong grip, walking towards the kitchen to see that the cookies you had been working on before were ready.

"There are plenty of cookies for everyone, Sanzu you can invite your friends."

"They are not my friends!"

"That's very kind of you, we'd love to meet our friend's friend."

So you ended up having lunch with the three men in an awkward silence between them, due to the tension of which you preferred not to take into account, Ran and Rindou were quite nice and understood that you were not a love interest, nor did you want it, nor did you seek it. Alarm bells of boys without a mother figure going off again, of course you caught their interest more than before, they knew your background but not your personality, and they ended up falling into that obsession towards you, as if there was something that made them gravitate towards you, was it because of your simplicity? for your kind words? They didn't know it, but they were jealous that Sanzu could snuggle up against you and they would have to keep more of their distance.

Now you had three of Bonten's executives constantly visiting your house, whether it was asking you for small favors or advice on nonsense to asking you to make them cookies or food in general, they just desperately wanted your attention, like babies crying out for their mother.

This cycle of obsession only made the others begin to suspect that they were up to something, whether it was harmful to Bonten or not, Takeomi was the first to notice, Kokonoi the same, he noticed how the brothers spent a certain amount of money, which they didn't used to do that often, followed by Kakucho, Mochizuki and lastly Mikey.

So it led you to be kidnapped by Mochi after doing enough research on you, because they didn't take much notice of it at first when the brothers first noticed. You were tied hand and foot, a blindfold was removed after consciousness returned to you, you found yourself face to face with a man with immense dark circles and eyes full of lifeless, on his right side another man with a large scar on his face, on his left side another man with a small scar on his left eye.

You felt something cold touching your temple, again you had a gun pointed at you, held by the same boy who had kidnapped you, you turned your head also noticing another man with long white hair.

"Who are you and why do you have my executives after you?"

"Executives…?" you looked at everyone carefully, connecting the dots when you saw their tattoos "Oh- so that's why they never wanted to tell me what they worked for… are you some kind of organization? Like arms smuggling, money laundering or something?"

You took the situation calmly, that your life was hanging by a thread right now was not one of your biggest concerns, you had lived a full and happy life up to now, you had no regrets, you were mature enough to understand the point at which you were, the more the years go by, the less afraid you are of the things that used to terrify you when you were young.

"GET YOUR DIRTY HANDS OFF MY MOTHER!"

Everyone was surprised to see how Sanzu entered kicking Mochizuki so that the weapon flew out of his hands, away from you, the Haitani brothers followed closely untying you quickly while all those men had a discussion of looks, the dense silence was broken by your giggle, you were trying to control yourself as much as you could but it was impossible.

"My God, Sanzu, you just called me mom!?"

The boy's face was completely dyed in pink tones, all the attention was now focused on you while you let out a laugh at the slip that your child had, something made the hearts of others clench in pain when they heard your laugh, no matter how bad it sounded, whether it was asthmatic, uproarious, or silent laughter, it was like real music to the ears of all the executives at Bonten, including the leader. As if you had flipped a switch in the mind of their rotten minds, they now had a new interest in you, as if you had further triggered an obsession you were unaware of with the first three you met.

They began to understand why those three felt attracted to you, it was as if your mere presence was intoxicating for them, as if just listening to you or looking at you calmed their broken hearts, many alarms from boys without a mother figure, of course that was a triggering reason, all these men longed for that kind of love that they could hardly experience.

Now you had the criminal organization after you, not in a bad way, more like a bunch of men acting childishly because of your limited attention. One thing they were clear about without the need to speak, you were not going to leave their sight for a single moment from now on.

#tokyo revengers x reader #reader inser #fem reader #platonic reader #yandere platonic #bonten #bonten x reader #sanzu #mochi #mikey #ran #rindou #haitani #kakucho #kokonoi #motherly reader #yandere bonten x reader #yandere platonic bonten x reader #old reader

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kurogxrix · 5 months

Text

Under Wraps

Bruce Wayne x Wife!reader

IN WHICH Bruce and you deal with the aftermath of your kidnapping.

WC: 1.8k

warnings: ANGST, mentions of kidnapping, injuries, PTSD, soft!Bruce.

A/N: Ive l’ost all motivation in writing as of recently and had to FORCE myself to write this for a whole ass month😭 so it’s really nothing great.

The tense silence that lingered between you two was suffocating, albeit all windows in the room being wide open. You just couldn’t get yourself to speak, and Bruce just didn’t know what to say. He never does, but you love him either way. it’s funny to see the cocky billionaire flaunt all of his riches out to the world while he softens for you.

You sat upon the edge of your shared bed with your head in your hands, unable to make out whatever you husband was fumbling with behind you. The feeling of being in the opposite man’s grasp was so fresh to you, like a new scar that your brain harboured. Not only mentally, but the haunting mark across your wrists and neck were yet another temporary reminder of what had happened to you that night.

Oftentimes throughout the night you found yourself being ashamed for a reason or the other. Your husband’s been through worse, so have your sons, and yet your brain couldn’t help but replay the disturbing images of the moment you’d lost Bruce at the gala. You sighed in the comfort of your hands, forcing your eyelids shut impossibly further than they already were to try and shoo the nightmares away.

Your clothes laid messily somewhere across the floor, a bloody and muddy mess that Bruce had quickly drawn off of you before ushering you into a warm shower. He’d then dressed you in a silky robe, and that was the end of it before you’d end up on the edge of the bed, alone with your thoughts despite your husband being in the same room as you.

Your ears fell deaf to the sound of constant rustling of cloth, so much that you failed to hear him crouch before you as he settled comfortably on his knees.

Rough hands gently pried at your own, pulling them away from their protective stance around your face. The sudden lack of covering made you scrunch your nose in dismay, but a quick look from those hazel eyes before you had you relaxing. Bruce made a quick work out of the situation, silent as ever as his hands came to undo the knot around your robe that he himself had previously tied.

You didn’t complain as his hands pushed at your robe, revealing the naked torso that Bruce had seen so many times before. The soft sigh that escaped your husband didn’t go deaf to your ears, and you closed your eyes once more as you awaited for the tingly feeling of his fingers. Seconds passed in sterile silence before you finally felt the scarred skin upon your own, except instead of balm covered fingers, you were met with his warm, bare ones.

You opened your eyes to the sight of your dishevelled husband staring down at your bruised torso, the balms and bandages that were once in his left hand now abandoned beside you on the bed. His right hand held onto your side like an anchor, wide thumb pressing against your stomach. Bruce kneeling between your open legs was a sight that you’d never get tired of, but this time you could only pray for it to end.

Hazel iris traced the dark spots littering your torso with a shame that was beyond their ability. Tiny hairs across his hairline stuck to his forehead due to cold sweat, and you brought a hand down to smooth them behind, little to no care for the tacky fluid rubbing onto your hand. Slowly by slowly, you began caressing your way down his face, smoothing out the wrinkles accumulating on his face before stopping on the edge of his jaw.

The feeling of your fingers, alive and warm upon his freshly shaven jaw caused his fingers to involuntary clench on your side. The painful hiss that escaped your mouth was enough to snap your husband out of his stance, fingers almost immediately unclenching from their grip.

Masochistic as it was, you were somewhat glad for the pain. It reminded you that you were alive and well, there in the mansion with your husband. It also managed to get those brown eyes that you loved so much to snap upwards towards you. They held so many feelings in there that you believed you could not be able to tend to them all in one night.

“I’m sorry,” it left his lips faster than your brain could comprehend, and you were left dumbfounded yourself at those two little words. Meaningless in most relationships, those words were nothing that you’d ever hear coming on of the one and only Bruce Wayne’s lips. He was cocky, always flaunting his riches to those who seeked.

“It’s okay, it only hurt for a second.” you lied, because the throbbing pain still coursing through your right side threatened to sell you out. You could tell that Bruce wasn’t buying it, so much for being Gotham’s greatest detective. Nevertheless, your hand resumed its delicate caressing upon his cheek, a ruse to take his mind away from the little slip up.

You could practically see the gears turning inside his head, trying to decipher why in hell you would be lying to him about this out of everything. Yet again he’d worried far too much over you in one night, you wouldn’t let his mind collapse over something so minor.

Bruce didn’t wait for your approval before shifting on his knees, hands grabbing at the balms that looked humorously tiny compared to his large palm. The cold paste spreads smoothly upon the tip of his fingers, and soon they’re on your skin. The sensation made you flinch, but the reassuring hand that laid on your knee made you calm down. You thought it was crazy how such a simple thing could make you relax so easily, yet again marriage and love were another crazy thing of their own.

Your fingers clenched on their own as you felt

your throat tightening. No. Hell no, you wouldn’t let Bruce see you cry after the hectic course of fucking hell of days that you’d put him through. That selfless side of you that was present most of the time was yelling at you to stay strong, and yet the sight of your burly, rough and yet caring husband doting after you following your accident, you couldn’t hold it in anymore.

You fingers clenched into a fist, nails digging little crescent moon into the skin of your palm as

you gritted your teeth together to hold in a loud sob threatening to escape past your lips involuntarily. From his spot on the floor, Bruce froze at the sight of the soft, rhythmic movements that swayed at your chest. From the corner of his eyes nevertheless, and in the dimness of the enclosed room, his senses never failed him.

Tilting his face up to meet your own, his fingers unwillingly clenched around the poor tin can of balm upon his hands. The tears that you were trying so hard to keep in pooled at your waterline, entangling in your bottom lashes before escaping on their own accord. He watched as your chest shook, exasperation taking over your body before you could even cry to him. Yet you weren’t doing it, and for some reason Bruce knew that he had some part to play in it.

He remained silent as his hand came to clutch onto your own. Then, the sobs shook you and you just couldn’t hold it in anymore. You jumped from your seat on the edge of the bed and straight into his awaiting embrace, arms thrown tightly around the broad neck. Bruce felt his heart squeezing at the sound of your distraught cries, like the Joker himself had his heart placed and chained on some sort of death carousel.

Nothing was more painful to Bruce than family. The bad and the good hurt. Like when happiness would grasp at his heart so hard that it’d physically hurt. Only family could achieve that for him, yet life wasn’t always favourable, and the bat knew that better than anyone else. He could make a list of things, one shittier and more tragic than the other, that’s happened to Bruce ever since he was but a little boy, and yet, his heart never got more of in a twist than at the sight of a member of his family hurting.

Your breath staggered, and your husband felt the warm exhale of you trying to stabilise yourself upon his neck. A large, ringless, and warm palm found its way to the small of your back like a collarless dog chasing home. Suddenly, another bare hand fell upon your back as Bruce embraced you against his chest fully.

The room was void of any noise save for the agonising sounds of your pained sobs. Bruce didn’t need to ask anything, he didn’t need to inquire to know that you were hurt. All the more scared and traumatised after your encounter with the Joker. His large palm rubbed comforting circles along your back as you laid motionless in his warm embrace.

“You’re home now,” he muttered, as though it would help appease all of the new scars and fears that you'd acquired in the span of a few days.

“I’m glad.” you breathed out from your position in the crook of his neck, feeling like you’d break down again if you spoke too much. The both of you occupied your positions on the floor for far longer than normal, only splitting apart to rejoin the comfort of the soft mattress after you’d whined in pain following a slight movement to adjust yourself on his lap.

Bruce made a quick and effortless job of carrying you back to bed, pausing in his movements when you’d told him you’d feel better to sleep with the side lamp on tonight. The frown on his face deepened at your comment, yet he didn’t allow you to see it as he kept his back to you despite complying. Settling in bed was even harder for you than you expected, unable to wrap your arms around the muscular torso of your husband and rest your head upon his chest as your injury unabled you to.

Sleep didn’t come easy either, plagued with nightmares that previously didn’t exist in the far back of your mind. Bruce was here with you through it all, his sleeping habits aiding him to wake by the moment you’d stir awake. That night, Batman slept but Bruce didn’t, but the feeling of your pulse regaining its normal beat as you laid with your back against his chest erased Bruce’s ability to care. Safe and sound under the wraps.

anyways that was that….

#bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x batmom #batmom #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne oneshot #bruce wayne x wife!reader #the dark knight #bruce wayne angst #bruce wayne fluff

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slasherwife · 1 year

Note

Slashers reaction when their s/o catches them without mask for the first time? Pls and thank you!

s/o catches their slashers without a mask

awww yes!! i must give happy endings to all of these 😭🫶

warnings: extra short bc daddy bo doesn’t wear a mask 🥲💗

thomas hewitt:

He feels guilty

He wasn’t careful and now he’s scarred you from letting you see his scarred face. He’s ashamed he couldn’t keep you from himself 😭❤️‍🩹

And in a way it feels invasive. He feels like he’s been seen naked, and he quickly looks away with the feeling of embarrassment and shame fills him💔

He goes to leave, quickly entering the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

after about a minute of refusing to look at himself in the mirror, he hears gentle breath coming from the other side of the oak wood door.

his better half, asking if he’s okay. that it looked like he saw a ghost, and then laughing. then telling him that you miss him. and that, “by the way, you’re beautiful.”

he starts to cry, smiling, and looks into the mirror at the face that they said was beautiful. 💗💗

jason vorhees:

jason isn’t really self aware like thomas is. he isn’t one to worry about what he looks like anymore 🤗

i mean, he does worry that you won’t find him attractive, but it’s not to the point where he will refuse to ever let you see him with his mask off!

the first time was when he was down by the lake, sitting down washing a trap that had flesh still inside, minding his own💞 he had taken off his mask to breathe freely the lake air.

he had thought you’d been asleep for a long time, inside the cabin. and he had been so threaded in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the door open.

“hi jason” your voice rang out sweetly, slightly caught off guard because his mask was off but nontheless wanting to greet him🫶

he says nothing (obv), but instead of giving you his long soft glance like he usually does, he looks away, and down, almost trying to hide his face as he grows stiff

you grow slightly deflated, but your love for him seems to intensify, and you can’t stop the words before they come out, “you have beautiful eyes.”

jason’s eyes flicker to you, then back to the ground, then pats the ground beside him for you to keep him company 💕💕🥺

michael myers:

this guy is the literally opposite of thomas he does not care at all😭 he is literally so not self aware at all

he likes his mask but sometimes the thing gets real smelly so he has to throw it in dishsoap water yk 🥲

then you come around the corner he’s like “oh hey y/n” literally nothing off about what’s being seen atm 😃😂💞

you TRY to play it cool but at the same time you’re like fangirling over seeing your hot smexy murderer husband without a mask for the first time 💕😇

but at the same time like he probably sleeps without the mask on so i’m assuming y’all sleep separate until now 🥲

if not then you see it so early into the relationship like it’ll be no big deal 😇💕

bo sinclair:

boy doesn’t wear a mask, his face is too hot and sexy to be contained 😍

vincent sinclair:

absolutely horrified. he doesn’t even like being alone without his mask on that much.

has literally considered waxing the actual mask to his face permanently😕❤️‍🩹

he just was repairing it— he got too close to a radiator on accident and needed to repair it. then his baby walked in🥺

hears the door open and IMMEDIATELY flinches away. he knows you caught a glimpse, and he’s terrified, and mortified.

he’s breathing deeply, frozen, stiff, like one of his sculptures. you on the other hand are concerned. 🥹

“darl? is everything okay my love?” you call out softly, so not to startle him💞 he doesn’t answer, and doesn’t move.

“i went looking for some petrol, i knew you wanted some for your art. it’s in the shed.” he noticed that you never called his statues “sculptures” or “wax dolls” like bo always did. you called them “art” 💝💞

“honey you don’t have to hide from me. i will always respect your privacy, i will never ask you to show me your face. but you will never have to hide from me because i love all of you.” 🥹💗

you say this to him and he softens like the wax on his mask. it was within the next few days that he’d rather throw it into the fire than melt it into his skin forever 💞💞

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huntershoe · 2 months

Text

Back to you

Hunter x Jedi!reader

Spoilers for the bad batch season 3 :)

Summary: After a long time, you're finally reunited with your family and your lover.

Warning: Canon violence, Mention of mental and physical torture, slight depressing state, hurt/comfort. Fluff!

A/N: Let me know if anyone would like part two. I was planning on making it spicy ;}

Word count: 2.4k

Part two

It's been months since you got a distress signal from one of your fellow surviving Jedi. Months since you managed to rescue your Jedi friend but sacrifice your own freedom. Months since you've seen your family and your lover.

The last thing you remember from when you were still with the batch was when you were all on Pabu, helping the people restore the beautiful ocean city while you were waiting to get any word from Echo as he helped Rex.

When the only thing missing was Crosshair.

You got the distress signal the same day Echo said he would visit. You knew you couldn't wait for your friend to visit, so with a tight hug, a long and loving kiss and a promise to return safely and quickly, you set the course for your Jedi friend.

Unfortunately, your plan wasn't Vader proof and you ended up captured, switching your place with your friend who managed to escape. You waited for your end, silently apologizing to Hunter and your family, but it never came. Instead, Darth Vader decided you would make a great addition to the imperial inquisitors, so they tried to break you, in every possible way.

For months, they tortured you mentally and physically, leaving you crying and barely alive at the end of every day. But you never broke, no matter what they did to you, you didn't break. There were times when it came close, but thinking of your batch and Hunter gave you strength to fight on.

So when the first opportunity to escape came, you took it. Doing everything in you capacity, even if it meant you'd have to tap into the dark side of the force. Your body had been weakened in the past months, your skin now covered in scars but that didn't stop you and you managed to escape, hijacking an imperial ship and running.

It seemed that even the force was on your side once you coincidentally run into Echo, Rex and the newly forming Clone resistance. But all your happiness disappeared once Echo informed you of the loss they suffered almost immediately you were gone. All those months, just the idea of coming back to your family and how everything would be perfect once again. Everything fell apart and you felt like you were once again in that cold prison cell, waiting for the inquisitors to torture you again. You were falling into the dark abyss, ashamed to even show yourself to Hunter and Wrecker.

It wasn't until Echo came looking for you, four days later. His body radiating happy energy as he practically jumped on you, hugging you and telling you that both Omega and Crosshair managed to escape and were now safely with Hunter and Wrecker on Pabu.

That made you hyperactive, filling you with energy and will to live and both you and Echo were in the ship only few hours later, crossing the galaxy to get back to your family once again.

Three days later you finally made it to Pabu, docking the ship at the top of the city. But while waiting for the ship to touch the ground in a matter of those seconds, your mind betrayed you. Suddenly all you wanted to do was to hide in the corner and dissappear, all those happy thoughts dissappeard, instead being replaced with dark and hateful thoughts. You imagined how Hunter must hate you now that you only returned once everything was alright again. How you dissappeard when they needed you the most. Maybe he's even blaming you for everything bad that happened to his family. Or maybe Omega's the one who hates you now, maybe she thinks that you betrayed them, leaving your family to help someone else.

Your whole body was shaking and you felt like you would faint and when the ramp finally began to descend and the sun shined on your face, Echo had to gently grab you because you swayed like a fragile flower in the wind.

Both you and Echo managed to take a few steps down the ramp before you heard a loud yell. Omega screamed yours and Echo's name, sprinting full speed at you, making you react the same. You yelled her name and she jumped in your arms as you quickly prepared to catch her, hugging her close to you as you began crying, peppering her face with kisses and petting her hair. You managed to crouch with Omega in front of you as you grabbed her cheeks and looked at her more closely, checking for any injuries as she cried telling you how much she missed you.

But as soon as Omegas eyes fell on your face her expression fell as well.

"What happened to your face!" Big tears began rolling down her cheeks as she looked at you. Similar to your body, your face was now littered with both small and big scars, some more visible than the others.

It's been months since you've seen Omega, the young female clone that had unexpectedly entered your life and become like a daughter to you. And after so long, you didn't want your scars to be the first thing you talk about, it was too dark subject to address in the first moments of reunion. So you moved your hands up to her hair, trying to change the subject to something happier.

"Look at your hair! It's grown so much!" You laughed through your tears as you played with the little girl's hair.

"I know, now you can finally braid my hair!" The young girl knew what your were trying to do and played along giggling as she mirrored your hands movements and played with your hair.

You were just about to respond when you both got interrupted by someone whispering your name. Your head snapped behind Omega, falling on a frozen figure, Hunter.

Your body went rigid, completely frozen in time when your eyes meet with his golden ones. Omegas eyes followed yours and once she saw Hunter standing there silently watching, she hugged you one last time before slowly removing herself from you and running towards waiting Echo.

Now that Omega was no longer in front of you, you stood up slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he watched your every move like he couldn't believe you were really there.

Your hands began shaking again and you grabbed your sleeves to try and stop them but to no avail.

"Hunter?"

You whispered back to him, taking a small step towards him. He said nothing, but his body moved and he was by you in the next second, his hands enveloping your body as his own crashed against yours. He squeezed you almost as hard as he could, fearing that if he wouldn't, you would've disappeared again. Hunter buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as your hands slowly stopped shaking and you moved them up into his hair. Your forehead fell on his shoulder as you finally closed your eyes, taking in his warm presence. You both stood there for a long minute, not moving as you both tried to soak in each other's warmth.

You felt Hunter deeply inhale once again, his breath tickling your neck, before his lips pressed against the same spot and he kissed you. Repeating the movement kissing up your neck, slowly coming to your face as his hands moved up to your neck, and his thumbs landed on your cheeks as his eyes found yours again. Hunter breathed out your name again, his face so close to yours.

"I thought I lost you..." His normally smoky voice sounded broken, quiet, like he was worried he would scare you away if he'd talk any louder. His own hands began to shake slightly as he gently turned your face around, his eyes jumping from scar to scar.

"Hunter, I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you, I really did but they-" You tried explaining yourself as his eyes found yours again.

"When your ship returned I thought to myself at least I got one of my girls back...but then only General Prima came out and she could barely look me in the eyes to tell me what happened..." Hunter let out a sigh as his thumb traced the scar across your lips.

"...I thought I lost you and I couldn't bare to even think of what they're doing to you...I tried get you back every day, you and Omega..." He went on slowly and quietly, his other thumb tracing the scar across your eye.

"I'm so sorry Hunter-" You tried to apologise again but he interrupted you again with his thumb on your lips.

"Just...just promise me to never leave me again...I...I can't live without you." Hunter whispered as one tear left his eye and you moved your hand to his cheek, brushing it away as he leaned into your touch.

"I promise Hunter, never again." You nodded your head as you promised him, your own tears escaping you again and you moved your head, leaning your forehead against his.

Hunter let out a gentle puff of air, making your lips tingle as the air hit them. His own lips ghosting over yours as he whispered. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ka'ra."

A small smile appeared on your lips and you gently nodded. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ashi dul."

You responded and finally moved, pressing your lips against his into a long and loving kiss.

Hunter's hands moved back down to your waist and he pulled you closer again as his kiss turned more desperate.

Your own hands moved around his neck as you pulled yourself impossibly closer, a small sound escaping you as Hunters hand squeezed your hip and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips as he entered your mouth in almost like urgent matter.

You let him take the reins and followed his tempo, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you again.

"Okay, you can continue doing that later! Now it's my turn!" You heard Wrecker before another set of arms snaked around you and Hunter, squeezing you even further and lifting you in the air. Both you and Hunter gasped, breaking the kiss to look at the gentle giant as he hugged you, leaning his head on your shoulders. You chuckled, grinning and squeezing one arm out and moving it to gently pat Wreckers head. "I missed you too Wrecker." Even Hunter managed a chuckle as he heard his brother sniffle quietly.

"We're never splitting ever again." Wrecker decided as he slowly put them down and brushed the tears from his eyes away. "Agreed." You nod, grabbing the giant clone's hand and squeezing it.

"What, no hug for me?" Crosshair's sly snake like voice asked as he came closer and crossed his arms in front of his chest an amused frown on his face. Your head turned in his direction and a wide smile grew on your lips and you gently let go of Wrecker and moved around Hunter, letting your hands to drag across his chest as you stepped closer to his youngest brother. "Crosshair!" You grinned and quickly moved closer to him, enveloping him into a big hug. Your movement surprised him greatly as he was expecting a glare and a witty remark instead you hugged him.

His arms were awkwardly waiting at his sides, debating if he should hug you back or push you away. Alas, you were the only one that hugged him so far and he'd be lying to himself if he'd say he didn't need a hug. So he let his arms slowly sneak around your body and he hugged you back, silently laying his head on top of yours.

"I'm glad you're back with us again." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and you felt his breath hitch.

He slowly let go of you and stepped back a little, watching the scars across your face.

"Come on, you have to meet Batcher!" Omega gasped, grabbing your hand out of nowhere and pulling you towards what looked to be a excited Lurca hound, running around and chasing Moon-yos. You chuckled at the enthusiasm of the little girl and looked back behind you to your lover and the rest of your family, only to see Hunter slightly glaring at Crosshair and Echo rolling his eyes and pushing the former Sergeant, encouraging him to move, while Wrecker only laughed and followed closely.

Omega managed to introduce you to the lively hound, telling you how she helped her and how they bonded over the time as they managed to survive the empire. Batcher seemed to be the perfect energetic pet for Omega as they began playing together, almost forgetting everyone else that was watching them.

You felt a warm hand on the small of your back and a moment later a warm body pressed against your side as Hunter lowered his head to whisper in your ear. "Come on, you must be starving." He pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as you turned your head to look at him. "A little, yeah." You confirmed and Hunter motioned with his head to his brothers, before gently pushing you towards the house reserved for the batch.

Hunter whistled, making Omegas and Batchers heads turn, motioning them to follow too.

The shining sun had slowly began to descend as they sat down around the table after they put on some food. They snacked on the delicious fruits, talking about everything, just like they did in the old days, while they watched Omega and Batcher play.

The moment felt perfect, besides the one empty chair, remaining everyone that they will never be complete again. Everything else felt normal, Crosshair's witty remarks, Wrecker's compliments to the food, Echo trying to talk about another one of his missions and Hunter silently trying to listen to everyone as his hand slowly fell on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure you and himself that this moment is in fact real.

Translation:

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - Mandalorian way of saying "I love you"

Ner ka'ra - My star

Ner ashi dul - My other half

#sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter #hunter tbb #tbb hunter fluff #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #clone troopers #star wars #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #omega tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb wrecker #tbb echo #tbb rex #fluff

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mikkomacko · 10 days

Note

Thank u for doing requests ! What about giiving kisses on mob boss Nico’s scars (if any)?🥹🥹

This is so sweet oh my god I’m gonna cry. (This also somehow turned into a smut scene at the end so happy first smut scene of mob boss Nico!)

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope I did it justice!

————————————————————————-

It wasn’t a big dead, not really. Just an off-handed remark Jack had made after Nico chirped him for getting a bad haircut.

“You should spend more time worrying about that lip of yours than my haircut.” He’d yapped, motioning to the recently split lip Nico had gotten. “Eventually your girl’s not gonna wanna kiss it better.”

It had healed just fine and yeah for a bit there you’d avoided the raw wound, but now that it’s just a sliver of a scar it’s fine, right?

Nico can’t help it. He’s picking at it, smears of shaving cream still splattered across his jaw and cheeks. He picks at it until the skin of his lip is red and raw, and it hurts so badly he has to stop.

In a frantic spiral he’s suddenly spotting all the little marks on his face. Every scar left over from teenage acne to fist fights to hitting his head on the coffee table as a child, Nico feels manic as he takes them all in.

Maybe he shouldn’t have shaved. Maybe he should’ve let his beard grow out, creep up his cheeks and down his neck to hide all the ugly marks.

Down and down and down the rabbit hole he goes. Wiping the shaving cream off with a towel, Nico spots the ugly mark on his collar bone from where he’d been nicked with a knife. The one on his abdomen from where he’d been kicked with steel toe boots.

Something ugly and ashamed rises in his chest, threatens to choke him. He scrambles out of the bathroom, haphazardly shutting off the light as he rushes to the closet. In his haste to cover himself he misses you already lying in bed. It’s not until he’s yanked on a hoodie and sweatpants, finally able to breathe easy, does he notice you watching him with bewilderment.

“You ok boss?” You ask him, slightly amused.

Nico runs a hand through his hair, feels like throwing up. What if you saw all of them? Like really saw them? Sat in front of him and saw all those ugly spots at once, all his ugly spots?

“Fine,” he mumbles, climbing into his side of bed. He feels stiff and awkward, ignoring your gaze as he reaches to shut off the bedside lamp.

You make a confused noise in the dark and Nico blinks until his eyes adjust. Then he’s lying back on the pillows, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers ache to reach for you, to touch your skin. But he’s terrified of you touching his skin and suddenly deciding you don’t want to anymore.

Stupid fucking Jack and his big mouth.

The sheets shuffle, the mattress moving with your weight. “Nico?” A hand pats down the duvet, then slithers across the blanket until it’s resting over his chest.

“Hm?”

“Baby you’re on the edge of the bed.”

“M’just hot.”

“Maybe it’s the winter clothes you just put on?”

Nico hesitates, scrambles for an excuse. “Not feeling well either. Don’t want to get you sick.”

“You ate three plates of pasta, Schoa. I don’t think that’s contagious.”

Clearing his throat, Nico pathetically shrugs. Something’s welled up in his esophagus, is choking him and he wants you to reach over and make it better.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong or am I gonna have to piss you off first?”

He closes his eyes, feels the weight of your hand on him. That feeling chokes him again, makes him panic until he’s spiting out his worst fears to you.

“Do you still want to kiss me?”

Nico expects you to laugh, to kick at his leg and tell him he’s being ridiculous. But he thinks the pathetic whimper of his words has given away how dire this topic is to him.

“Oh baby,” you breathe out, “I want to kiss you all the time.” You sound sincere, like you’re thinking about kissing him right now. It makes his face hot, embarrassed and insecure for some reason.

His silence is thick, hanging in the air so heavily you have to sit up in bed and crawl over him. Nico can’t help it, his hands moving on their own to find your hips as you push the blankets back and straddle his thighs.

“Nothing could ever make me not want you.” You whisper. In the dark he finds your eyes, the moonlight coming through the window gleaming in them. They look shiny and blurry, warped by the night- no by him. Because he’s got tears in his waterline.

“You didn’t want to kiss my lip,” he mumbles like a child, “when it was hurt.”

You stroke through his hair, press your palm to his cheek. “Because I didn’t want to hurt you, not because I didn’t want to kiss you.”

“What if next time it’s worse? What if the cut is bigger and then the scar is and it doesn’t get better?”

“What-Nico where is this coming from? Did something happen?”

He’s silent, embarrassed again. “Jack said if my scars get any worse you won’t want to kiss them better anymore.”

“Oh Nico baby,” you huff in disbelief. “Have you ever noticed that Jack doesn’t even have someone to kiss his scars better? Who does he think he is?”

You’re right, but he doesn’t feel better. So he just shrugs, makes some weird noise of protest in his chest because he’s scared and hurt.

“Can I please turn the light on?”

Nico leans into your palm, heart thumping loudly in his chest but he mutters his consent. The lamp flicks on and at first he’s blinded. But then you come into view, one of his shirts on your shoulders and you’re pretty hair frizzy on top of your head.

You look so beautiful over him.

“Oh my god, what has Jack done to you?” You ask softly, stroking your thumb under his droopy eyes that are still wet with unshed tears.

“I don’t know,” he mumbles.

Your fingers trace his face, over the soft skin of his freshly shaved cheeks and the slope of his nose. Your thumb outlines his lips, your eyes following its movement with such adoration in them it makes his heart ache.

“You are the most beautiful man I have ever seen,” you say with earnest, stroking the scar on his lip. “No cut or bruise or scar is ever going to change that.”

“Yeah?”

You lean down, ghost your lips over his. “Yeah Nico,” you promise, sealing it with a kiss. He runs his hands up your back, holds you as you trail kisses over the little marks of his face.

Nimble fingers dip beneath his hoodie, touch the warm skin of his stomach. “Can I take this off my love?”

Sluggish, Nico nods. He sits up enough to help you wiggle it off of him, falling back into the pillows as you throw the hoodie to the side.

You sit back, admiring the skin of his chest and abs with your hands and lidded eyes. “All I see when I look at you, is the brave and strong man that I love.”

Sliding down his body, you mouth at his collarbone with soft and needy lips. Nico sighs contently, lets your breath tickle his skin and grows warm at the way you touch him so sweetly.

Sometimes he wonders how you can treat him so softly, how you can take him in those soft hands and turn him into a puddle.

“Baby,” he whines, unsure of what he’s even calling for. All he knows is that he loves you and you’re making him feel so good.

“Let me love on you,” you request, word pressing into the column of his throat. “Let me show you how beautiful and sexy you are Nico.”

He tangles his fingers in your hair, shudders as pleasure nips at his belly and blood rushes to his cock.

“Fuck, yes, please.”

You’re slow and diligent, finding any and every place on him that is marred or changed and showering it in kisses and loving touches. He’s sweating and panting when you get to the edge of his pants, peeling the band down to reveal more and more of the scar there.

“This one’s my favorite,” you say so quietly he almost doesn’t hear you.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head, brain foggy with lust. You peer up at him through thick eyelashes, blinking sultry over the planes of his body. Lips hovering over the mark that trails down the v of his hips and the top of his thigh.

“My favorite,” you mumble into his skin, kissing at the point of his hip. Then you’re pulling his sweats down even more, innocent eyes watching him hiss when his cock jumps free, red and hard against his abdomen.

“Why?”

Your lips curl up, wicked as you bite into the inside of his thigh just enough to make him twitch. “Because I get to see it every time I’m down here.”

Nico’s brain short circuits, shuts down when you bite into his skin again and it feels so good he might come untouched. He doesn’t want to though, not that he needs to tell you that.

You nose at his cock, mouth wet and hot against the base of him and his bones turn to jelly. He falls back into the mattress, widening his legs for you to get closer.

Grounding himself with fingers in your hair, Nico whimpers when you drag the flat of your tongue up his length, gentle fingers wrapping around his girth.

“Baby,” Nico whines again, and you’re already kissing at the thick head of his cock, all teasing flicks of the tongue and lips sticky with precum.

“I know pretty boy,” you assure, sweet and loving. Nico moans, ears growing hot at the pet name. “So pretty, from those big eyes of yours all the way down to your pretty cock, huh?”

His hips buck up, eyes rolling back and he twitches in your hand. Jesus Christ, now he knows why you love when he talks you through sex. The rawness of your words, the truth in your tone, how utterly sweet you sound saying such filthy things.

“Make me cum,” he begs, tugging on your hair encouragingly. “Please just -fuck!”

You swallow him down easy, fitting his cock into your warm mouth just how he taught you. Like it’s habit now, to have his cock dripping into the back of your throat while your tongue licks at the underside of him.

Nico’s so worked up and sensitive he’s already throbbing and threatening to blow his load. That fire licks at the base of his spine, curls his toes and has him blubbering nonsense. You bob your head, drooling down his length and cupping his balls in your palm.

You’re so soft and warm, so loving in everything you do. Nico thinks it might kill him one day, how much you love him. But that would be a hell of a way to go.

His cock throbs, twitching in the hollow of your cheeks and you stroke a free hand over that favorite scar of yours. That’s at it takes and he’s seeing stars, coming so hard on your tongue it twists painfully at the pit of his stomach.

Dropping his hands from you, heavy like his bones are made of lead, Nico fights to catch his breath. Your merciful on him, easy and gentle as you kiss your way back up his torso and to his mouth.

Nico doesn’t peel his eyes open until you’re messily mouthing at his parted lips. Your tongue tastes like him, breath hot and he groans into your mouth as he kisses you back.

“I lied,” you pant when you part from the kiss. “This one’s my favorite actually,” and your pecking a kiss to the scar on his lips.

“Baby you just sucked the soul out of me,” Nico croaks, wrapping his arms around you and pinning you into his sweaty chest. “I can’t take anymore compliments.”

You giggle, touching your nose to his. “It’s the truth this time, I love that one. It’s the first thing I see every morning, the first thing I see after you kiss me.”

Nico hums, smacks a kiss to the corner of your lips. “Yeah? Do you think that’s pretty too?” He goads, smirking when you blush and roll your eyes. “Pretty like my cock? Or pretty like my eyes?”

Laughing, you wiggle in his hold to try and get away. “Oh shut up!”

“Noooo keep telling me how pretty I am, boss please?”

#him and i #him and I blurb #nico hischier #mob boss Nico #mob boss Nico hischier #nico hischer x reader #nico hischier smut #requested

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maroonswan · 1 year

Text

Imagine pampering pro hero!Izuku Midoriya after he rushes in the door late for date night, covered in a thick layer of the day's sweat and grime. A fresh bouquet of flowers clutched gingerly in his scarred hands as he apologizes for being such a mess.

He immediately lauches into a tangent of an explanation, rambling about how he had wanted to get back home as soon as possible but had still wanted to get you something special. That he had neglected washing up at the agency in order to run by the flower shop before it closed, and that despite the late hour he still fully indended to take you out tonight (after grabbing a quick shower).

"There're still a few bars open." He continues. "We could grab your favorite cocktails. We could dance. And, maybe after that we could get some fast food or I can cook you dinner! I'm sorry, [Y/N]. I know it's not exactly what you were hoping for, but I promise I'll make it up to-"

You cut off him before he could finish, pulling him in to a tight hug; your face burried deep in his soiled chest, muffling your laughter as he freezes in his tracks.

Midoriya can't help it. With you, his worries seem small. He takes a deep breath relishing your sweet clean scent as a smile comes to his lips.

"It's okay, it's okay. I'm just glad your home, Izu." You sigh. "Besides, I had other plans on how I want to spend the night."

"You do?" He asks, genuinely curious, feeling your self-satisfied hum rolling through his chest. Such a coy non-answer. He knows you're up to something but decides to play along. He's kind of tired of asking questions anyway.

"Whatever you want, lovley" your boyfreind agrees whole heartedly, kissing your forehead and making you giggle with excitement. You always appreciated Midoriya's trust and intend to show him so tonight.

Without another word, you gently take Izuku's hand in yours and lead him to your shared bedroom.

Thinking about giving Midoriya a handjob after a hot bath and a full body massage. The epsom salts having worked wonders on his sore muscles; the remaining knots having melted away under your touch. Yet, he knew he was done for the second you drop your rode to reveal you were wearing nothing underneath. His cock immediately swelling with blood as you crawled your way on top of him, straddling him, your ass pressing into the corded muscles of his thighs.

Izuku is still covered in oil, glistening in the golden glow of the candle light. His stares at you mesmerized as you watch him with an equal sence of wonder, near hypnotized by the nervous rise and fall of his shining abdomen and chest.

He's so wonderfully gorgeous, like an angel or a demi-god.

How could you not serve his every need?

Izuku breath catches you gently grasp your hand around him. It's warm and so soft, so smooth. He can't bring himself to protest as your start stroke him just way he likes it, your grip light but sqeezing tighter the closer you get to the tip; fingers running lusciously across the vein on the underside; the tugging of his lubed cock making such lude fapping noises.

Izuku squeezes his eyes shut as he moans openly, slutilly. He feels like he's melting in your hands even as all the muscles in his body tightened up again; your other hand massaging his balls as you continued to pump.

He knows he isn't going to last long. Not when it feels this good, when you've been so thoughtful, when everytime he reopens his eyes he's greeted again by your perfect body and jiggling tits.

You're spoiling him, and he's helpless to stop you.

"Fuck," he slurs. Better words having formed on the edge of his lips but never having fully come through.

He cums so quick in your hands, and it's alot. Warm and shooting out of him in seemingly endless ropes with each replenishing pump.

Izuku's not at all ashamed. If anything, he feels relaxed. His muscles are completely slack, and if it wasn't for his many scars he would have had a hard time beleiving he ever was hurt before.

He turns to you as you curl up beside him. His gaze soft and full of love.

"Thank you, baby."

#afab!reader #mdni #smut drabble #izuku midoriya x reader #midoriya smut #sub!midoriya #mha smut #bnha smut #midoriya being insecure

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