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#is this a) out of the goodness of his heart b) an apology for the fish breath incident or c) all of the above
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"I'm ready for my injections," Holly told her boyfriend, Ryan.
"Good, you're becoming so obedient. I told you you'd come around eventually. You almost look eager."
Holly blushed, feeling the weight of her breasts hanging off her chest, already about twenty-five pounds each. Fifty whole pounds of pure breast. It felt absurd to her, so wrong, and yet inescapable. It was her new reality. "I'm excited to see them grow for you....."
"That's a good girl," he said, inserting IV needles into her breasts at various points.
Holly winced as her boyfriend injected her breasts with over a gallon of saline each. She remembered when she first met Ryan barely a year ago. He was so charming, they met at the gym and were both very passionate about being fit and healthy. She worked as a gymnastics instructor. Now she couldn't imagine trying to work her old job. The mothers would be horrified at such a huge-breasted cow of a woman trying to teach their daughters.
Soon into their relationship, Ryan mentioned having a big tit fetish. She thought nothing of it, what guy doesn't? Before long, she noticed her breasts were getting bigger and started lactating. He fessed up that he was drugging her water bottles, and apologized, but said he wanted her EE-Cup breasts much bigger. She was angry but as her girlfriend was still excited to please him and get bigger for him, despite not wanting large breasts.
Her breasts got bigger and bigger, impeding her ability to do gymnastics. Women began recommending she get a reduction or chop them off outright. Holly had to reluctantly admit her boyfriend was making her grow them out like this. His fetish consumed her life, made her lose her job, getting so bad she found herself becoming a living embodiment of his kinks. No longer Holly at all, just an object he acted on and molded into his perfect toy.
She gasped as the gallons of saline flooded her breasts, his new favorite means of torturing her. When they were done, her breasts ballooned to double their size, red and swollen, round and very taut like fake tits. He took out the needles and placed heart-shaped bandages over them to help keep her tits from springing leaks. This new way of increasing her breast size would ensure once the saline is absorbed her breasts would stretch, getting saggier, longer, emptier. Instead of being beautiful and full from the breast growth drugs, like a woman who's pumped out a dozen or so kids, her breasts would switch between extremely saggy, floppy and empty, and enormously round and heavy, filled to the point of popping with saline, heavy as two water coolers strapped to her chest.
Holly winced as Ryan tightened her leather straps and added the rest of her corrective harness, which looked a bit like bdsm gear, to help keep her back upright, pushing out her giant saline-filled boulder tits. Ryan smiled, smacking Holly's breasts, which made her recoil in pain. "It feels incredible when I hit them, doesn't it?"
Holly nodded, barely able to catch her breath. "Y-Yes.... Smack them all you want. They're yours."
"Good girl, but they're about to be all of Lower Manhattan's. I want you bringing in lots of money tonight, OK? Smile a lot, eagerly service any man, even the homeless ones or violent looking ones. I can't have you saying no to any clients. Don't worry, I'm taking my anti-STD pills every day so I won't contract all the bugs you're collecting. Oh, and if you don't mind, I want you whoring on the corner by your old dance studio, hopefully some of the moms and other women you worked with might get to see your new occupation. Doesn't that sound nice?"
Holly was blushing beat red. "B-But....."
"None of that. You don't have 'no' in your vocabulary. Now off you go!" he said, smacking one of her breasts again.
"OK.... I won't disappoint you."
"Good, otherwise I might have to paddle all that saline out of your tits when you get home"
Holly yelped as he spanked her, sending her out wearing only her harness and nothing else, to go enjoy her new occupation as a whore with giant saline-filled breasts. Which she slowly started to feel was exactly who she was always meant to be.
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neuvilletteswife · 2 days
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Argenti Fluff Alphabet!
Inspired by the NSFW Alphabet by @fairy-tail-babes.
Feel free to use for your own writing Blogs!
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
Argenti spends his free time to take care of you both physically and mentally. He loves to praise, cuddle and protect them. Always make sure that you feel happy when you are with him.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
He loves to admire everything about you. Your face, body and attitude. Everything about you is beautiful for him. Argenti never stop praising you.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
He is good at comforting you.
“Shhh…My dear please let me comfort you.” Argenti pulls you closer to his chest. “What happened? Do you want to talk? If you don’t want to it’s alright. You can cry. Let it all out. I am here for you. I never leave you my love.” He rubs your head softly and kiss your forehead. “You will get better soon. My beautiful. Please be relax in my embrace” Argenti rubs your back softly.
D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?
He wants to travel space and finds Idrila with you. He will support and take care of you forever.
E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?
He can be dominant one or passive. It depend on you want him to be. Even he is dominant, he never push you into anything. He also follow your wishes too. When he is passive he is a good follower.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
Be the first one to apologize whether he is wrong or not and always forgives you. He prefer to talk to fix the situation over fight.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
He always says “Thank you” or praises you a lot for do something for him. Even though the things that you did for him is just a little but he always remember and appreciate everything you did.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Argenti is straightforward person. He never keep his secrets from you. He trusts you and shares everything to you. He never lie.
I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?
He learned a lot about your planet. How he should live or behave on this planet with you. He appreciated that you help him solve the problems a lot and he will repay you with his kindness and treat you like a prince/princess.
J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?
Argenti rarely feel jealous. He is always understanding you. If he feels jealous. He will just ignore it.
K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?
He would ask your consent first. (What a gentleman) His kiss is loving, soft and passionate. He is a good kisser. Never too rough or making you feel uncomfortable.
L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?
When he feels his heart beating so hard when he is with you. He will confess his feelings for you. How much he adores and love you. His feelings are genuine.
M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?
He will dream of marrying you one day but if you don’t want to it’s alright. He always lives with you until his last breath anyway. Your marriage are full of roses and luxury decorations. He did it just to impress you.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
My rose, my love, my dear and Sweetheart.
O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when
they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?
He will express his feelings directly to you that he loves you so much. He always treat you well.
P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?
Argenti will praise you in front of others but when you two show affection. He prefer to do in private. (He is a knight so he won’t do anything too affectionate in front of people)
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
Argenti loves to do your hair. He is also a very clean person himself. He might clean your body too.
R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?
Argenti is romantic lover. He can be both cliché and creative but he wants you to tell him how to make you happy. He likes to surprise you.
S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?
Argenti is always support and believe in them 1000000% He also help them to achieve their goals and praises while they doing it.
T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?
Argenti would like to spice out by taking you ride his spaceship and travel around the universes.
U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?
He knows about you a lot. He always let you speak what’s in your mind without judging. He never being mean to you. Always empathetic and understanding.
V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?
You are a beauty of his life. You always make him feel happy. He always feel grateful and lucky to have you in his life. You are everything to him
W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.
He doesn’t mind when you tease him. He also likes it and laugh but he rarely teases you.
X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?
Argenti is very affectionate and likes to touch you soft but firm. He loves to kiss, hug and cuddle for relief his or your stress. He would do everything you want him to do. Just say it.
Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?
He will thinking about you all the times you left. Sometimes he messages you that he misses you a lot when you are on work.
Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?
Argenti would dedicated his life for you just like his aeon. Would sacrifice his life for you. Never leave you. His loyalty is very strong. Argenti is a perfect lover.
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dreamaze · 2 years
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BFFL 5/∞   ↪ well-fed ♡ translation cr. @slowrabbitpd 
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arminsumi · 3 months
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♡ 𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲!
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🔞 mdni / 18+ content
Pairings : fem reader / bully!Gojo Satoru / bully!Geto Suguru
Synopsis : college boy Satoru bullying you around with his best friend
Warnings : bullying kink, degradation, dacryphilia, dirty talk, bl*wjob, p*ssyjob, semi-public s*x, rough s*x, perv behaviors, namecalling (wh*re, sl*t, b*tch), getting caught, threesome, +++
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Bully!Gojo who asks Suguru to trip you down the corridors as you walk past them, so that you can fall right into his arms.
"Oopsie..." Suguru says, grinning like a jackass and sticking his leg out. Your face plants into the muscular chest of that white-haired freak, and then he pulls out one of his awful pick-up lines on you; "Fallin' for me, sweetheart? I knew you would eventually." he blatantly stares straight down at your cleavage. "What!" you give them a repulsed look and pull back. Your reaction elicits giggles from your two bullies, and they check out your ass as you walk away in a fit of anger. "... I'd give her backshots 'till dawn." Satoru says, and Suguru shakes his head at his best friend, "You're insane." he says, but Satoru says, "She looks like she needs to get fucked hard."
Bully!Gojo who grumbles and folds his arms, sat in the principle's office after pulling a water-dumping stunt on you just to see your nipples go hard.
He glares at his spiralbound notebook. Instead of writing an apology letter like the principle instructed him to do within an hour, he ends up writing your name over and over and drawing hearts around it, filling the page with little doodles of you as if he's some obsessed high school boy.
Bully!Gojo who loves the squeaks he elicits out of you when he slams and pins you against the wall.
"I bet you get so wet for me when I do this." he taunts, whispering lowly into your ear. "No I don't!" you lie, glaring up at him. He arches his back and bends his knees to level himself with your face, "Liar." he says, lips grazing your cheek. "F—feel for yourself, freak. You'll see I'm not wet..." you bluff. He arches a brow and dips his fingers between your thighs, making you gasp as he presses against your hole through your panties. He just grins, backs away, cockily lifts his chin, and leaves you standing there embarrassed.
Bully!Gojo who muffles your moans on his big hand while caging you with his body in the cramped closet at a college party.
He grinds his crotch against you, making you aware of the size difference between your bodies as his big, heavy cock divides your tiny pussy lips. "I know you need me, baby." he lowers his voice, cautious about getting caught with you in here, "Just say the word and I'll take you to heaven, I promise." he murmurs almost romantically, but before he can fully cast his spell over you, your classmate Nanami Kento draws back the closet door. "Wow. We're at a party, what's wrong with you two?" he scolds. Satoru chuckles guiltily while you just crumble in embarrassment, "Out, out! Stop fucking in my damn closet...!"
Bully!Gojo who loves it when you try to retaliate by spitting on his uniform. It gives him a brilliant idea for the next time you visit his dorm room for a class project.
"Spit on it. Make it sloppier. Good... now choke on me." he shoves your head down on his cock, big hand firmly holding the back of your hair. He makes you take as much of his meaty cock as your tiny mouth can handle. He groans and cums so hard after just a few shallow thrusts into your mouth. "Hey, don't let it fucking spill out, you whore. I want to see you swallowing every. fucking. drop." and damn, his cum is so thick and so much that you nearly choke on it. But that just makes his ego swell.
Bully!Gojo who stalks you like a cat in school, following you down corridors, cornering you in quiet classrooms, getting up in your face.
He doesn't let you breathe, he always closes the spaces and gaps between you and him. He'll be chewing you out for something, calling you a dumb slut while grazing his lips over yours. Arguments always lead to him growling "Shut up..." before slamming his lips onto yours. And when Satoru kisses you? He starts moaning real quick, something about you just makes him weak. Next thing you know, his fingertips are rising up your thighs and daring under your skirt, and your fingers are exploring under his shirt, feeling over his muscles.
Bully!Gojo who fingers you into ecstasy... in the middle of class.
He'll sit himself next to you, and you'll squirm uncomfortably under the scowls you receive from jealous girls. Thirty minutes into the lecture, you whisper-shout under your breath, "Satoru, you're embarrassing me!" and he murmurs back, "No, baby, you're embarrassing yourself with how fucking wet you are. Just listen to that pussy..." he goes harder, the sounds get louder and you can hardly think with how his fingers rub in and out of you. Satoru makes you orgasm on his fingers right there, grinning like a bastard at the feeling. You bet he taunts you afterwards, "I can't believe how slutty you are... you'd be a slutty girlfriend, huh?"
Bully!Gojo who has Suguru apologizing on his behalf all the time.
"I'm so sorry... I swear Satoru's not usually this much of a menace. He's just got a thing for you, haha..." it hurts his lil' heart to see you getting pushed around... sike. Lots of Gojo's gutsy plans originate from his nasty best friend. Satoru can only come up with the most basic shit; stealing your lunch, tickling your back, pinning you to the wall, bluffing how he'll "ruin your life". But Suguru? He's the one with the good ideas; dumping water on you from the balcony to see your cloths sticking to your body, persuading explicit pics out of you, and smirkingly staring at them with a wide-eyed Satoru... who thanks him.
Bully!Gojo who's got the most foul, nasty dirty talk.
"I'm gonna cum, don't stop!" you squeal in the backseat of his car, feeling him pound into you from the back. "Of course you are..." he humiliates you, pounding you harder and harder into your orgasm, "... tell me you're my little whore." he grunts. "I'm your whore!" you squeal, "Again..." he smiles sadistically, "I'm your whooore!" you reply weakly. He pulls you to his chest and grinds deeper inside, "Yeah that's right. You're just my little cock whore."
Bully!Gojo who gets off to you crying.
Tears streak your cheeks and your body shakes; trying to adjust to his size is impossible. He's always too deep, too thick, stretching you out and fucking up your guts like a pornstar. "Aw, can't take it? What a fucking crybaby." Satoru groans, slapping his hips into you back and forth like an animal. He hears you sniffling and moaning for more, "Keep crying; it's gonna make me cum so hard..."
Bully!Gojo who bets your pussy on a basketball game with Suguru and makes you sit and watch.
"Aw... princess, 'guess it's a draw. You don't mind if we share you, right? After all, sharing is caring. And we all care about each other, don't we?" Satoru smiles. They're sweaty and exhausted, but still have enough stamina in them to pound you. "Come on, show Suguru how sweet your holes feel."
Bully!Gojo and bully!Geto who literally bully their cocks into your pussy one after another, taking turns and telling you how good you feel and how good of a slut you are for them.
"Whose do you like better...?" Suguru asks, but you're too dumbed out, "I dunno! Both!" you squeal. He gives you a dangerous smile, "Aw... well, let's go another round and see." he says, making Satoru laugh, "Oh, I don't think she can handle another round. She's too weak."
Suguru just pushes your legs back, slides too deep inside, and coos, "You're right, Satoru. She takes cock like a bitch... we should train her into the perfect cockslut. Aw, look... she's smiling."
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© arminsumi
I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.
This is fictional work.
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munsonsreputation · 3 months
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i can't talk to you when i'm like this
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steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: [2.1K]
warnings: warnings: no use of y/n, established relationship, reader has a history of shitty ex's, steve accidentally makes reader cry, a lot of angst regarding past relationships (feelings wise), steve's shitty childhood & terrible dad (brief), fluff at the end (yes because i am a softie)
summary: steve never raises his voice at you, but the first time he does, you can’t find it in yourself to tell him what's really bothering you when you’re seconds away from breaking down.
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You hate how the tears coming springing to your eyes the second Steve raises his voice a little too loudly beneath his already apparent annoyance.
Your brain blanks out the second it bellows against the walls and comes hurtling down to your eardrums. It feels like glass shattering in a million different ways, cutting you open and killing you with a thousand cuts.
He’s frozen in front of you, blinking with a look of oblivion on his face because he’s waiting. His arms still held wide open after he asked a question: one that was posed with a tone too sharp for your liking.
“Why are you making it such a big deal?”
His usually sweet and gentle tone was long gone, or at least that’s how you heard it. Instead, it dribbled with irritation and resentment meshed all in one. The kind that sounded like he was fed up and wanted nothing to do with you anymore.
He was just trying to do a sweet thing by picking you both up some coffee and yet here you were starting an argument — you always had to ruin a good thing.
Your teeth dig into your gums, trying to find any way to hold off on the waterworks that you know are about to pour any second now. Cloudy orbs shoot down to your bare feet, trembling against the floorboards while you excuse yourself from the kitchen.
“I’m g-going to the bathroom.”
Your voice is delicate yet not the kind that Steve knows like the back of his hand — the one where you keep it so quiet like an oath when you whisper you love him when you think he’s asleep and no one else is around to hear it.
This time the oath is broken, cracked, just like your voice, torn at the seams between fear and panic. Its edges are frayed and tattered, and its tenderness that is usually formed out of affection is long gone as it cuts through your chest and causes your back to heave as you walk away.
He knows he messed up.
It’s stupid. You shouldn’t be so worked up over the barista leaving her number on Steve’s cup. But you are. You’re worked the hell up and you want him to understand why it is such a big deal to you.
It’s upsetting because you shouldn’t be this wound up and insecure. You know Steve would never even dare to dial the numbers left on the cup, let alone remember the name she left on there. He’s head over heels in love with you the same way you are with him — yet you just don’t get it.
You don’t get the way this makes your insides turn and the thoughts to start whirlwind in your head. At first you were just upset about the number, maybe even just mildly irked — but then the second Steve’s voice came to you like that… that’s when you entirely forgot how to even tell him how you felt.
Now you just felt stupid for making it such a big deal and turning it into this.
“Breathe….” you murmur to yourself jaw trembling as you try not to tense.
The tears finally roll when your back collides with the bathroom door and your shaky fingers lock it shut. Your heart feels like it’s on fire, one that consumes your entire being and engulfs you in the bluest blue instead of the blazing red.
The only thing keeping you from collapsing is the door that’s holding up your weight and it’s not long after that the person you love yet are avoiding is on the other side making it more difficult for you to attempt to make it seem like it’s not a big deal.
“B-baby… I’m so sorry.”
The apology comes in an instant, and you could almost feel his breath hitting your neck from behind the wood. You know it’s genuine…Steve has never ever made you cry. You feel now like you’ve taken everything out of proportion — you should’ve just giggled and said ‘oh that’s cute! too bad you’re my boyfriend!’
All of the things you wished you would have said play in your mind like punishment for the way you’ve acted. How you know you’ve turned the tables on him and made him look like the bad guy when he was far from that.
He was just shocked to come home and hand you your favorite drink only to be asked about the barista he barely gave his attention to. Your accusing voice after he did something nice wasn’t something he was expecting.
Your throat tightened, eyes squeezing shut as you tried to cover it up and make it seem like you weren’t upset. You shuffled from the door, towards the sink, turning it on yet making no move to put your hands under the water.
“I’m fine! I—I just had to wash my face!” You lie, trying to cover your tracks as if Steve doesn’t already know it.
There’s been times when things have upset you, not things that Steve has done, but things that life throws at you and most of the times you hate how wound up you get. Without failure, you sneak away, just wanting a moment by yourself to cry without anyone feeling bad for you or asking questions because they’ll never get it. They don’t understand that the littlest things can trigger something inside of you to completely shut down from the rest of the world.
No one gets it… but Steve does.
“Baby,” His voice is stronger this time, yet tender, “please, can I come in? I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean…”
Your fingers finally come in contact with the frigid water, dabbing the droplets over your eyes attempting to get them to settle instead of looking like you were just crying. There’s a sniffle that comes from you as you clear your airways and a pathetic smile that you press onto your face to try to hide how you’re really feeling.
The water shuts off and you’re opening the door, cutting his apology off altogether.
“I’m fine, Steve!”
Your voice isn’t swaying even with the volume it carries and neither with the faint laugh you give him when you meet face to face. Your lashes still bear the droplets of salt and your cheeks tinted red with the path they’ve traveled down.
He can feel the pain in your voice and see the wobble of your chin as you hold back everything inside. He hates that you feel like you have to mask how you’re really feeling when, in actuality, you should be furious at him for what he did.
“Baby,”
Sadness joins his concern, and he doesn’t bother to hide it — he’s not sure he can when his eyes leak the same emotion, “Baby, you’re not fine…I know you’re not fine.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes unconvincingly. “I literally am, babe… it’s cool. Everything is fine.”
He knows that now you’re trying to reassure yourself rather than him. Trying to play it off and make it seem like everything was okay. Like he’s just supposed to accept it and let you hold everything inside like torture when that’s far from what he wants.
Your attempts to brush past him are futile when his hands come out to hold your shoulders, his fingertips kneading your tense skin. He can feel the blood rushing from under your clothes and it’s not the kind of warmth you usually carry — you are blistering and if he looks hard enough, he can see the way your chest is trying to level itself out as you hold back.
It takes everything in you to not draw your eyes away from his because you don’t want him to know that you’re still feeling it. Feeling stupid and at the same time nothing at all because you don’t know what to feel anymore. There’s a whirlwind of emotions and none of them you can put a finger on because you’re just lost.
You just don’t want him to think you’re crazy… like you reacting to him raising his voice like that was something that would daunt him away.
One of his hands stops its movement on your skin, raising up to your cheek and cradling you gently. There’s a crease between his brows and his eyes seep with regret and guilt. His lips part and the words that leave them come in whispers and fragility — croaks and cracks guiding them.
“Everything isn’t fine… I acted like an idiot and raised my voice at you. I’m sorry baby, I—I never meant to do that on purpose. It just came out, but that isn’t an excuse.” He shakes his head at himself disappointingly because he knows better.
Steve was far from perfect in his own eyes, but he knew better because all his life if there was one person he didn’t want to be like, it was his dad. The dad that used to scream at his mother, and scream at him, and scream at the world when everything went wrong, and didn’t know how to talk if it wasn’t screaming.
He’d never forgive himself if he made you feel that way or even became a smidge of what his father was. But it wasn’t him who he was blaming for this — this was all Steve himself, and he knew that. Accountability needed to be taken from himself because the only person he was hurting was you and it was going to be okay.
Not in the heat of the moment, not ever.
You hadn’t even noticed you had tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, the faint taste of iron trickling onto your tongue when you realized you were biting down on the skin too hard trying to stop yourself from crying.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby, please just—just tell me how to make it better.” His voice pleads and reasons, wanting to make it right with you anyway he could.
You close your eyes, letting the tears fall as you feel his thumbs wipe them away. He’s done this times before, wiping away your tears that had spewed from another’s doing. Never did he ever think he would be the cause.
“I-it’s nothing… it’s stupid, I’m stupid and dramatic.” You swallow thickly, sniffling and twisting your fingers in your hand to fight off the lingering feelings.
He shakes his head. The obvious look of disapproval for your words covers his face because this was far from your fault. Sure, he was bewildered about the whole incident, considering he didn’t even know the number was left there until you brought it up, but for him to not know how to convey his frustration better was the real issue at hand.
Not the accusation, not the stupid number, not the oblivious girl who left her number: it was him, Steve’s idiotic actions that got you both here.
“Stop, don’t talk to yourself like that.” He insists, staring deeply into your eyes, searching for a reason why you were blaming yourself,
Your jaw shakes roughly before a sob rips through your mouth. Tightening your eyes to try to get the tears to stop, yet they don’t cease no matter how hard you try. Frustration builds inside of you because you should be over it by now. The fact that he apologized and was here trying to comfort you should be enough.
But something inside of you won’t let it die. The silence is filled with the memory of his voice shouting at you and the face that he stared back with.
“I—I don’t want you to think there’s something wrong with me.” You croak, covering your face and turning away from him to save you the embarrassment.
But he strays to where you are, sticking beside you with a comforting hand resting on your back, “Sweetheart, nothing is—”
You sob one more, this time with a grunt that is direct to yourself. Stomping your foot against the cold tiles, your hands come down to grip the edges of the counter tightly. Your reflection in the mirror is only half of what you feel, and when Steve steps behind you, all you can see is guilt, but at the same time patience knowing he’s ready when you are.
You try your very best to at least keep your sobs at bay just enough for you to speak through them and for him to understand.
“You’re not gonna wanna be with me anymore knowing I can’t—I can’t talk to you when I’m like this! I don’t know why, but I can’t… it makes me feel stupid, like I’m crying over something so tiny and now I’ve totally forgotten why we were even arguing in the first place.”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head and reaching in front of you to bring your hair back and away from your face. His eyes keep yours in the mirror, watching at you with such a gentleness that even now doesn’t falter.
“We weren’t arguing. I was just dumb and raised my voice when you were asking me about it.”
You move your sights from his to the bottom of the sink, shaking your head, “No, b-but I shouldn’t have reacted like that and made you look like the bad guy when yo—”
Your voice is traveling faster than you can think, spewing out words so hastily like you have to make him understand that it’s not his fault, but yours. It takes your breath away, hiccuping and coughing between a sob that leaves your mouth and bobbles in your chest.
Steve’s instantaneously rubbing your back, shushing you and trying to get you to calm down knowing you going on and on like this wouldn’t do you any good. He understands that you feel a lot of things very deeply and sometimes it isn’t an easy task to get them all out at once: he knows it and he’ll spend forever with you until you got it all out.
“Hey, hey, baby, c’mon… breathe,” He coos, his palm never stilling on your back feeling the deep breaths in and out, watching the tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto the counter.
It’s a kind of scene he hates to see, the one he wishes he could take from you and shoulder instead because watching you in such a state breaks his heart more than he could imagine. And this time it stings a little more knowing that he not only cannot shoulder your pain, but was the one creating it this time.
“Talk to me, please. What’s going on? Why’re so you upset at yourself and not at me?” He begs, trying to get a glimpse of what you’re feeling so he knows where the root is.
“B-because… I made it such a b-big deal.” You hiccup.
When you swipe angrily at your eyes with a ferociousness, that’s enough to make Steve step in and take it from here now that he knows where you’re coming from. A warm hand comes down onto your shoulder, pulling at you just enough for you to face him completely, weakly hanging your head low not knowing if you were strong enough to see him just yet.
“You didn’t make anything a big deal. I promise, we’re okay.” He whispers quietly, cupping your face in his hands, and bringing you face to face, “You’re not stupid and I could never think that you were. You’re human honey. It’s normal for you to be upset by things.”
“B-but I…I don’t want you to think you did something wrong—“
He stops you with a shake of his head. “But I did. I did something so wrong. I yelled when I shouldn’t have, and I made you feel like shit.”
Steve desperately needs you to know it. That this was his fault and no one else’s. That him making you feel like crap was the worst thing he could have ever done, but he was willing to man up to it and try to make things better, and at the same time he would understand if you wanted nothing to do with him after this.
Still, even after his words, you’re somehow even angrier at yourself, mind blaring at you for being such a dramatic person for making him go out of this way with all of this. That this was surely your fault and yours only, and if you didn’t take it off his plate, it was just something he would use against you one day to realize that he didn’t want to be with you anymore.
It’s what they all did — held it over your head and made you feel like you were wrong for feeling how you felt, so instead it was best not to feel anything at all. To hide it away and hope that being noncombative meant that everything was going to be okay and it wouldn’t give them a reason to run.
“I-it’s my fault—” You pinch your eyes, gulping back a cry as you shake your head in his hands.
His brows pull together, eyes squinting at you, not completely understanding why you’re doing this.
“Hey, stop, it’s not your fault. Don’t do that. Don’t take the fall for me,” Steve assures you with a sternness to his soft voice, continuing to wipe the seeping tears.
Somehow you can’t let it go, “But—”
“But nothing.” He starts, his voice composed yet unyielding in his tone.
He can’t stand it, clutching your face a little firmer, hoping that you would peek your eyes open to see him because he desperately needs you to. The second you do, your face twists again with heartache, praying that he would just let you go and walk out already, because by now, he probably thinks you’re insane — there’s no way he’s not thinking it.
His lips part, trying to find the right words to say, needing the perfect ones to get through you because he hates how you won’t let him take the fall, the one he so rightfully deserves to come crashing down on. You are everything to him and in some ways the feelings that you feel hit him right in the heart, and right now is no different, but there’s a wall between you both and his only goal is to knock it down completely.
“I—I don’t know why you feel like you have to protect me, but I promise you don’t.” He whispers, watching as you try to calm yourself, little sniffles going in and out and broken cries leaving your mouth.
His thumbs rub back and forth across your cheeks, soothing your withering skin. Slowly but surely your cries die little by little, eyes fixed on his, trusting that he means everything that he says, because Steve isn’t like the others — something that you should’ve known judging from his character alone.
“If I do something that makes you upset or sad, you should be able to voice that, not keep it in. I don’t ever want you to feel like you can’t tell me when I’ve done something wrong. I—I want you to feel safe and okay around me, enough to know that my love for you isn’t gonna change, just because you bring something up. You have every right to be upset, and angry, and disappointed, everything.”
He says it like he means it and you know it’s because he does. He lets every word hang from the stars as if he put them up there, and points them out just for you to know that they are there and true, because that’s all he ever wanted. For you to know that every word he speaks comes from his heart, and no matter how many times he needs to repeat it, he’ll do it over and over again, just so you know it’s real and until you believe them and know he won’t ever break them.
“Don’t ever blame yourself for me, please? I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself because I’m here and…and every time I fuck up or make a mistake, I swear I’m gonna own up to it and try to fix it. But I’m not gonna let you take the blame, okay?”
Being with Steve for so long still feels so new, especially when you know he isn’t like the rest of the boys from your past. He’s patient and kind with a big heap of understanding. Like everyone else in the world, he’s guilty of his own poor moments, but he’ll be damned if he takes that out on you or makes you feel like it’s your responsibility.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” He murmurs, letting his hands fall away from your face, letting you decide what the next move is.
The tears that escape are more so in between the remains of the sadness being washed away with tears of love and gratitude. Your arms wrap around his torso, pulling yourself into him and burying your face into his chest where the tears soak through his chest. Without a second thought, his arms envelop you, rocking you both back and forth as he presses kisses on the top of your head.
It mends your heart not merely because he’s just sorry, but because you didn’t get plenty of sorries before. Left only with sweeping things under the rug and pretending like nothing ever happened — it never solved anything and never gave you much.
But Steve gives you everything and so much more.
A big chunk of you feels like you don’t deserve him because he seriously is the best person with an even better soul wrapped up into one and yet he chooses you — every day. He sees you through all the good and the bad and never makes you feel like you’re alone even when you could be a distance away when you’re right beside him.
When you talk too much, say too little, or sometimes say nothing at all — he’s there giving you a listening ear and comforting shoulder to lean on whoever you need it. And on the days when you can’t talk to him when you’re like this… he’ll wait until you’re ready and show you that he’s always going to be there every step of the way.
He’s everything you could have asked for and more.
You pull your face away from hiding, resting your chin up on his chest as you stared up at him.
“I’m sorry too. I—I shouldn’t have been so indifferent earlier and just told you what I was feeling from the get-go.” You sniffled, rubbing your hands over his back, smiling faintly when he nodded understandingly.
He knows that sometimes he might not quite get it, might not see things in the same light as you, but he would never try to dismiss your feelings. He would sit beside you through the storms and sunshines, knowing that he was learning more about himself and you with you in his life.
That because of you, the younger version of himself got to heal his deepest wounds and open himself up to a love he only through he could dream up. You were here making him a better version of himself, all while he was doing the same for you. Showing you that the scars and fears of your past didn’t have to live in the next person you met — that you could let it go and open yourself up to the love you deserved.
His love.
“I forgive you only if you forgive me,” Steve grinned, swiping away at the dampness on your cheeks.
You grinned, nodding up at him. “Of course, I forgive you.”
“I love you so much… nothings ever gonna change that.” He hummed, cupping your face, taking you all in for the person he loved so dearly.
You closed your eyes blissfully before a kiss was placed on your lips.
“I know, I love you too.”
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💌 reblogs, tags, comments, + likes are greatly appreciated! leave a comment and let me know if want to be added to my taglist!! 💌
a/n: hi all, I hoped you like this little one-shot/imagine... i had this one sitting in my wips for awhile and it was nearly finished but I didn't have the inspiration to finish it until now. I don't usually write angst bcs i am a fluff girl, but this concept just came to me bcs like a lot of people when someone raises their voice at me...i just freeze and i don't know what to make of it and i just start crying. i think steve would be super apologetic and i wanted to write this bcs i needed some stevie!comfort so yeah... i hope you all enjoyed!!!
taglist: @translatemunson @kennedy-brooke @manda-panda-monium @tvserie-s-world @givemeth @steveharringtonswife @astolenkiss @loving-and-dreaming @awkotaco24 @engenelxver @elfiaaaa @pbs-theundeadmaggot @johnricharddeacy @gaysludge @keerysfolklore @micheledawn1975 @ihatepeanutss @bakugouswh0r3
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aajjks · 11 months
Text
loser ≠ lover (m)
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synopsis. He wants you so much, even if you’ll destroy him, because he’d let you.
fem reader x yandere oc.
warnings. yándere, öbsession, masochïstic tendencies, mentions of physical, emotional abûse, unhealthy thöughts, èxtreme obsession, obsessive thoughts.
note. MY FIRST OC!!!!! UHHH IM SO SO NERVOUS BECAUSE IM NEW TO THIS KIND OF THING BUT I HOPE YOU ALL WILL GIVE HIM A CHANCE. HES ALL YOURS TO INTERACT WITH, send fanart?!?? Please I’d be honoured, send asks talk to him!!!! 😭💌
second instalment x
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loser boy who worships the ground you walk on!
Who licks off the dirt that trails off your shoes as you walk down the school hallway.
loser boy who is so obsessed with you that he can’t breathe if he can’t get a look at you.
loser boy who can’t feel anything but love for you, passion that pumps so hard in his veins for you, who can’t say a word without stuttering except your name.
Loser boy who follows you around like a lost puppy, who doesn’t care if your ‘friends’ cuss at him, if you call him a dirty dog.
At least you’re talking to him! God, he’s so lucky!
“Goodness fuck off! You sicko! How’d you find my address!?” You spit at him, your eyes filled so beautifully with hues of disgust, your luscious lips curled up in annoyance. He smiles so brightly at you, God, you’re so beautiful.
“O-Oh please! C-Call me more names! P-Please!” He begs, on his knees, his raven hair falling on his grey orbs, his lashes wet as he begs you.
You feel embarrassed, He notices, yet he feels his heart burning from the need to hear you insult him.
It’s been too long.
And that’s why he’s here, at 1 am right infront of your door, begging.
“Fucking masochist! You’re so disgusting! FUCK OFF.” The way your shoe hits his jaw, makes him moan out your name like a prayer.
You groan in anger, he gets up again, you struggle against him, your nails scratch him, the burn feels euphoric, he missed you so bad.
“You don’t understand huh?!? LEAVE. ME. ALONE.” You try to get away from him, the boy doesn’t let you, instead he grabs your legs, wrapping his arms around them, “n-no please! take me back please!” He’s sobbing.
Yet his heart loves the thrill of your resistance, it turns him on so much, his pants feel so painfully tight, “NEVER! You ARE NOT GOOD FOR ANYTHING! You are of no use to me anymore!” you keep insulting him, it makes him feel so relieved.
You hadn’t been talking to him for so long, he almost went insane without you.
“Y-YN p-please kiss me!” He stands up, “p-please!”
“FUCK OFF Ezekiel!” His mind blurs.
His tongue lulls out and he whimpers as you finally utter his name out, it sounds so good, so erotic from your mouth, His name was made for you to call out.
He is so obsessed with you.
“S-Say it again… p-please!” Ezekiel stands up, his knees wobble, the stormy grey eyes are full of lust, craziness.
You roll your eyes at him again, it only makes him so much more excited, he loves your rejection so much, he always has.
Because it’s a unique bond between you, you treat him special, he knows.
“fuck off weirdo.” Ezekiel doesn’t say anything but pushes you against the door of your house, “YN…” he brings his face so much closer to you, he feels scared yet thrilled.
You’re so unpredictable, it makes him shake with anticipation.
“P-Please don’t leave- don’t-don’t abandon me! I-I’m sorry I disappointed you b-but he deserved it.” You raise your eyebrows at his ‘apology’
“No. Get away from me you sick freak! You had no right to beat him up like that, who are you huh? My boyfriend? Please…” you scoff, “you’re nothing to me Ezekiel, absolutely nothing.” You spit again at him.
God.
“You’re just a pathetic man who gets me off. You’re just a pastime you get that?” You point your finger to his chest.
“Y’know you’re lucky you have a big dick and a pretty face. sometimes you’re obedient too and you make good punching bag.” You laugh so cruelly, venom drips in your words.
Yet he takes it as words of praise.
“You’re like my dog.”
Yes he is.
“S-So please just take me back? I-I’m so sorry YN…. Please punish me but not like this! H-HIT ME.” He takes your hand and swipes it hard across his cheek.
You gasp in surprise, Ezekiel looks at you with pure desperation. “Please! I-I can’t live without you,” he bites his lower lip, the mole under his lips becomes more evident.
“I-I can please you! I can help you get off! Please let me- give me a chance- I’ll make you cum as many times you’ll want to- PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE AT REDEMPTION!”
“P-Please!”
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exhaslo · 5 months
Text
Puzzle Pieces Ch.3
(Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Reader)
Ch.1, Ch.2
Warning: Eventual Smut so Minors DNI, mentions of abuse, blood, murder, language, fluff, bullying, mentions of sex
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It was another rough day at work for you. The only ray of sunshine you had all day was the scary, Miguel O'Hara, actually talking to you. He was so good looking that it made your heart flutter. You knew he was bad news, but you were desperate for anything to make you happy these days.
Stepping out of the supermarket with a small bag of groceries, you sighed as it started to pour. You had an umbrella, but someone stole it right before you clocked out. It wasn't too far of a walk, but you were still going to get soaked.
Taking a few deep breathes, you decided to make a run for it. Your place wasn't too far away. The rain could stop at any moment. It was fine! Yelping, you whimpered as you slipped and fell into a puddle on the sidewalk. Your groceries falling everywhere.
"N-No," You whimpered, trembling as you picked everything up alone.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you kept whispering that you were fine. You were tired of this life already. You flinched as a foot appeared beside your canned corn. You glanced up, shaking as Miguel stood before you, holding an umbrella out.
"Need a lift?"
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A few minutes prior, Miguel was sitting in the back seat of his chair, listening to Lyla over his phone. She was repeating his schedule out to him for his official job. Miguel groaned lowly, not wanting to have to deal with any of Alchmax's partners.
Hearing the rain, Miguel glanced out his window. He noticed you standing in front of the supermarket, staring at the rain before making a run for it. He told his driver to slow down, wanting to watch you a bit longer while Lyla kept talking.
His eyes widen slightly as you fell. Miguel told his driver to stop and hung up with Lyla. Looks like his little bunny needed saving. This wasn't something new, but you weren't like other girls. You weren't going to throw yourself onto him like the others.
Miguel smiled casually as he grabbed an umbrella and approached you. He stopped and held the umbrella over you, watching those tears stream down your cheeks. You were so fragile. All the more delicious to break in bed.
"Need a lift?" He offered, observing the shape of your body through your soaked clothes.
"U-Um..." Your lips began to tremble as you finished picking up the last of your dented groceries, "I-I don't w-want to be a b-bother. I-I appreciate the...the offer...but..." You kept avoiding his gaze, still crying.
Miguel was adoring this new treat. How easy you were to approach. No girl would hesitate to get in a car with him, yet here you were. A shy little bunny afraid of the big bad wolf. Miguel was enjoying this game. He reached out and easily wiped a tear from your eye,
"I wouldn't have asked if I thought you were a burden. My car is over there, I'll take you straight home." Miguel offered once more.
"A-Are you-" You stopped, seeing him get slightly annoyed, "T-Thank you, sir. S-Sorry again...for burdening you," You apologized again.
Miguel felt a rise as you called him, 'sir'. How nicely it rolled off your tongue. Miguel kept his eyes on you as his driver opened the door for the both of you. Your groceries going in the truck. Miguel sat beside you, having the heat turn up since you were shivering.
"Where do you live?" Miguel asked. You flinched,
"R-Right! S-Sorry!" You stuttered and told the driver your address.
Miguel leaned back in his seat, watching you put your seatbelt on. He nearly scoffed at the sight, finding you hilarious. You kept playing with your fingers, apologizing for everything. Hell, at this rate, Miguel was going to have to apologize to you for fucking you later.
"You're very naïve," Miguel said bluntly, causing you to flinch, "Never enter another person's vehicle. You're lucky that it was me, conejita. (bunny)" He warned.
"I'm sorry,"
"You wouldn't want your boyfriend to worry," Miguel glanced at your reaction, wanting to see if his prey was taken or not.
Not that it mattered.
"I-I don't have one...E-Even if I-I...I did, he...he wouldn't care." You said sadly, recalling how many times Eddie left you to fend for yourself.
Miguel noticed the small things about you. You were gripping your sleeves tightly while your body shook, not from the cold, but from mentioning your ex. Your cheeks started to burn as tears threaten to spill. This was not an easy topic for you.
"So, single and living alone in the big city? Haces esto demasiado fácil. (You make this too easy)" He hummed.
You glanced over at Miguel, admiring him. You knew better than to enter a stranger's car, even if he was a regular. Honestly, at this point you didn't care. Maybe it was for the best if someone took you away. Pinching yourself at the thought, you decided to keep the conversation going. To distract yourself.
"I...I had to leave...I-I thought I'd be...I'd be able to s-survive here. But...I guess I can't."
"You just need some help," Miguel noticed the area they were driving into, "You live here?"
"I-It's all I could...a-afford." You stuttered before sneezing.
You whined softly as you kept sneezing. Sometimes you had these spirts. Once you finished you saw Miguel's hand getting closer to you. Recalling times where Eddie would hit you to be quiet, you flinched and covered your head.
Miguel withdrew his hand as he noticed your reaction. He furrowed his brows before the car came to a stop. He knew that reaction all too well. Glancing at the shady apartment building, Miguel got out of the car and opened the door for you,
"I'm not going to hit you," He said and helped you out, "Let me walk you upstairs."
"Sir, this is-"
"I know where we are." Miguel hissed lowly and followed behind you, "Wait for me down here and don't make contact with anyone."
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You were shaking as you tried to open your door. Miguel was right behind you with your groceries. You felt embarrassed for reacting the way you did. All he was doing was helping you. Once you were finally inside, you quickly gave him a glass of water before rushing to change.
Miguel took this opportunity to look around your shabby apartment. You were grabbing his attention faster than anyone else. Miguel was starting to want you for himself. A cute little trophy to have in his room.
"S-Sorry I took s-so long," You stuttered, coming out in all long sleeves again. Miguel felt his eye twitch,
"No need to apologize. As you know I do more than just shop at your work." Miguel watched you carefully, "I'll get to the chase. You're new to this city and I've taken an interest in you."
"H-Huh?! Y-You h-have...but...but..." You sat down, covering your lower face with your sleeve, "I-I'm n-nothing...s-special."
"Estás seguro de que te hizo un número. (You're ex sure did a number on you.)" Miguel muttered and approached you once more, "Allow me to get to know you before you make such assumptions."
"Mhm," You looked away from him, sinking into your seat.
You weren't sure if you ready to see anyone, but this would be a good way to distract you. Miguel did seem kind to you at least. Biting your lower lip, you had to remind yourself about Eddie. He was kind to you at first too. You needed to have faith in people. Glancing back at Miguel, you gulped,
"O-Okay, I-I'll g-give you a chance."
Miguel just grabbed your free hand in response and kissed it. He smiled towards your flustered reaction and made his way out. You followed him, waving him goodbye before closing the door. You bit your lower lip and sat against your door.
"P-Please...be g-good to me."
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Miguel sat in his car, listening to Lyla lecture him. He had his arms crossed as he glanced at where you sat prior. He wanted to know more. Especially about what you've been through. Miguel wasn't going to have his new prey already broken.
"Lyla, I want you to gather as much information on (Y/N). I want to know what egg shells I need to avoid."
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@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
🔮🕯🍃🥀🌑🌌♊️
next chapter
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sitkainsnow · 1 month
Text
Desperately need a fic from a police officer’s pov and they watch SuperBat interactions bc like all the cops either hate or love Bats, but are still kinda terrified of him, but ofc Supes is all sunshine and smiles and “He’s my best friend y’all!” And they KNOW bats probably totally has kryptonite and an attitude worse than the devil.
So they end up in a situation where they’re working together and Batman in taking with the police and Superman’s standing behind him waving and smiling at everyone while Batman is giving single-word or just huffs for answers. And then Superman freezes and cocks his head and to everyone’s surprise grabs Batman by the shoulder and whispers something in his ear and then what’s more surprising is Batman doesn’t even mind as he wraps his own arm around Supes and then they’re gone in a blur of blue and Black. All the cops are just left standing there like 🧍‍♂️shocked bc Bats didn’t mind Supes touching him.
Or another instance where it’s after this big battle in Gotham and it’s with whatever villain but Superman is there too and the villain had kryptonite. Anyways so after the battle Bats is talking to the police and handing over the villain and Superman comes over after talking to the civilians, picks Bats up by the scruff mid sentence politely nods to the officers he was talking too, and moves him a couple feet away and just starts yelling at Bats abt how stupid it is for him to run around jumping in the way of heavy blows EVEN if they have kryptonite and Bats just scoffs and turns his head away and all the police on the area watch as Superman and Batman argue about how stupid it is to risk your life to save the other (they both did it) completely oblivious to their audience and the police whose POV it’s in just thinks “god they sound like a married couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy if the two of the worlds greatest hero’s were actually a couple lmao. But that’s crazy they’re just really good friends”
Gordon watched all this trying not to blow his fuse bc yes, Batman does need to be yelled at, and yes, he does need to prioritize his safety more, but NO, you don’t need to be having your lovers quarrel in front of the whole damn GCPD.
Or in another instance Batman racks up a bunch of charges on him for whatever reason and the GCPD by luck manages to arrest him and so here comes Superman trying to bail his partner(in more ways than one) out of prison and the police are like “we’re really sorry Mr. Superman sir but we can’t legally do that” and Supes goes “what the hell did he even do” and so the officer goes “Property Damage, unlawful violence, arson, punched a cop in the face and broke his nose, caught carrying weed which is illegal in the state of New Jersey, multiple -and I mean multiple- unpaid speeding tickets. Oh, and the DMV wanted us to talk to him about his unregistered Batmobile and Batbike.”and Supes is about to cry as he quietly asks “Okay, so how much is bail” And the officer looks away and mumbled “sixteen grand” and Supes gasps and cries out “I don’t get paid enough for sixteen grand!!”
However thirty minutes later Supes is back at the GCPD station shakily counting out bills bc he can’t use a check or card (obvi) sweating heavily and looking extremely pained. The cops don’t even ask where he got all those bills so quickly and just watch him and another 30minutes later Bats is out and Supes is shaking him by his shoulder shouting “so who’s gonna lag me back!! Who’s gonna reimburse me for for 16k?? Whose gonna apologize for the heart palpitations you gave me?? Whose gonna apologize for all the gray hairs this is going to give me?? You’re giving me gray hairs all the time B!! I can’t do this!!” And Batman just sighs and pats Superman on the back as they walk out of the station and Superman is mumbling about bank credit and loans and how bad he looks with wrinkle lines and gray hair sounding like he’s about to cry.
Meanwhile the police try not to loose their minds throughout this whole interaction and Gordon’s just staring at the door blankly smoking a cigar and the police whose POV it’s in looks at the cigar a little bit closer and goes “That smells like weed” and Gordon looks at her and just says “I feel for Superman a bit more than I want to”
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tonyspank · 7 months
Text
WH0 R U 2???
Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.
Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)
A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u
part 1
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Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.
Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.
As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.
Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.
"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.
"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.
You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.
"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.
Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."
"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."
You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.
"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.
"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.
"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.
"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.
The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"
"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"
Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.
"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"
You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."
Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."
You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."
Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."
"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.
You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.
Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.
When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.
But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.
Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."
Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.
"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.
Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.
Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?
Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles
Shit.
Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes
Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll
Tara: just tell sam im on the way
Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house
Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 
Tara: wtf? no?
Tara: ill ttyl
-
The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.
Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.
"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.
"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."
Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"
"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."
"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."
Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."
You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"
You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."
You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"
Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"
You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."
-
You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."
You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."
Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.
You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.
On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.
Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.
Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.
You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.
"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.
You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.
Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.
You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.
A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.
Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?
The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.
Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.
Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.
You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.
When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.
Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.
"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.
Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.
Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.
You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.
Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.
She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.
One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.
You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.
Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.
Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.
You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.
You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.
"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.
Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."
You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.
And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.
"Y/N! Shit!"
You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.
While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.
Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."
Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.
Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.
The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.
You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.
Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.
Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.
She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.
This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.
She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.
As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.
You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.
Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.
The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.
Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.
You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.
The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."
Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.
You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.
Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.
1K notes · View notes
kaiijo · 11 months
Text
AUDACIOUS — MIYA OSAMU
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pairing: miya osamu x fem! reader content: timeskip! osamu, fluff, comedy
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you had already told your sister that it was a bad idea but she begged and pleaded with you, and you’ve always had a huge soft spot for her. when you were little, you’d let her play with your toys, would cover up for her when she broke curfew, and played wingman on more than one occasion. all she has to do is give you her big, round puppy dog eyes and a jutted lip and you’re putty in her hands. Really, if you had a stronger constitution, this could all have been avoided.
because, right now, you’re sitting in your dining room, your husband across the table with his arms crossed. he’s eyes are narrowed and he asks, “so, what do ya have to say for yerself?”
you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his glance. “I had no other choice, ‘samu.”
“bullshit. ya did and ya know it.”
“babe—”
he holds his hand up. “i don’t want to hear it. i expected better from ya.”
you head shoots up and you throw your hands up, exasperated. “i’m sorry, ‘samu, i already apologized a million times!”
he huffs, “sorry’s not gonna cut it. you broke my trust.” there’s a beat and then he looks you squarely in the eyes. “was it worth it? worth it to break my heart?”
you can’t contain the snort you let out. “really, babe? i thought you left the dramatics to atsumu.”
“s’not dramatic when you cheated on me!”
you roll your eyes. “you did not just say that to me. all i did was go to onigiri empire!”
osamu makes a sound of disgust. “don’t make it sound so casual! ya directly patronized my main competitor!”
“my sister wanted to try it!”
“oh, so if yer sister jumped off a cliff, ya would to?”
“oh my god, it’s not that deep, ‘samu!” you rub your temples but when you glance at osamu’s scowling face, you cross the room and stand in front of him. placing both your hands on his shoulders, you say carefully, “i’m sorry i ate at onigiri empire, baby. i won’t do it again, promise. even if my sister begs me to go again, i’ll say no. can you please not be mad at me anymore?”
you take a page out of your sister’s book and give osamu your best pouty, puppy dogs eyes and you see how he immediately softens. if there’s someone who’s more whipped for another person than you are for your sister, it’s osamu for you. he lets out a long breath and says, “i’m sorry i overreacted, sweetheart.”
osamu stands and opens his arms, which you eagerly step into, and he wraps them tightly around you. he tucks his head into your shoulder and murmurs, “as long as ya didn’t like theirs more than mine.”
“how could i? i know yours are made with love.”
he chuckles and presses a kiss to your cheek.
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a few days later, when you come home, osamu calls you into the kitchen. you cock your head in confusion; osamu hardly ever invites you to the kitchen. you’ve been banned from it ever since you nearly burned it down trying to make your husband breakfast in bed for your first anniversary seven years ago. hanging your coat up, you cautiously creep into the kitchen.
osamu’s standing at the kitchen island and he perks up when you come in, beckoning you over with a wave of his hand. you eye his suspiciously as you walk over and he pecks the crown of your head. “how was yer day at work?”
“good, mitsubishi was annoying as usual.” you glance over his shoulder, where two onigiri sit on different plates. you ask, “did you make a new recipe?”
he shrugs and just pushes both plates towards you. “try a bite of each.”
“you’re acting weird, ‘samu.” you pause and say, “you’re actually acting like you did when you and atsumu made me guess which one you were.”
he gives you a look. “just try them.”
you sigh, “okay, okay.”
you take a bite on the left onigiri, savoring the sticky rice, seaweed, and kombu — your favorite flavor. you take a bit of the right one and it’s also kombu. you look at your husband, perplexed. “these are the same flavors, baby, and you already have kombu in the store.”
“which one did you like more?”
you blink. “what?”
“which one did you like more?” he repeats.
you contemplate and then point at the left one. “this one has a fuller flavor, i guess? ‘samu, what’s this—”
osamu lets out a whoop of victory and scoops you into his arms, lifting  you up and spinning you around. he cheers, “my baby knows my onigiri’s better!”
ah, you think with a fond roll of your eyes, so that’s what this is about.
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bunniesanddeer · 1 month
Text
Heat: Part One
Part Two
This was my first attempt at smut, so you will all get to see it now. I hope you'll like it. I originally posted it on AO3. If it is terrible, I apologize. This is also set in the same universe as "Bound to Hell" and "Going Straight to Hell", but it is NOT canon to the official multichapter fic which will be posted when it is half done. So it is the same characters, with a much more developed relationship.
Pairing: Alastor x Reader (AFAB) Lamb/Sheep Reader
Warnings: References to abuse, going into heat, no a/b/o, female anatomy, Rosie being a good friend, references to Soul Bonds, something you can ask about haha. Minors DNI. This part is not explicit, but the next is! Alastor speaks French.
Word Count: 3,690
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Alastor knew something was wrong very early on. He hadn’t been able to identify what it was specifically, but it had been unsettling. His shadow had quaked and quivered at something he couldn’t see, and his skin had felt tight. When he had left his room, the sound of crickets in the swamp fading behind him, the feeling had grown worse. It had made the Overlord not quite jumpy, but definitely uncomfortable. Then he saw the cause, stumbling from their room.
His little lamb that was slowly carving out a spot for themself in his cold, dead heart, was the cause. Their wool was disheveled, nearly matted. Their eyelids were drooping low, as if they hadn’t slept. He watched them stumble for a bit before he caught their scent. Due to their bond, and proximity, he was quite attuned to their scent. Normally, they were faintly sweet with a hint of florals, but now? All he could focus on was the deep, heady smell of them. Alastor wasn’t sure what had happened, but it was clearly drastic.
“My dear,” he called. The sound of his voice had made the little demon perk up. They whipped around, and nearly sprinted to his side. They were often enthusiastic to see him in the morning, but this was new. 
“Alastor!” Their voice was filled with joy, their eyes full of unwarranted excitement. The exhaustion that had painted their face only a moment before, was gone. Their hands wrapped around his lower arm, and they nuzzled into his side. They cooed, “I missed you.”
Alastor’s brows furrowed. How very peculiar! His little lamb never initiated contact without asking first. He didn’t mind their touch, it was rather pleasing. He enjoyed the softness of their skin, and the gentleness of their hands. They still liked to ask, though, some strange need to make him feel comfortable. (He thought it was unnecessary, he was an Overlord, and he owned their soul; if he wanted them off, they’d be off of him). Not to forget, they had ‘missed’ him? The two had been separated a handful of hours at most. What was going on?
“My dearest, are you feeling alright,” he asked, lifting their chin with his other hand. “You seem a little out of sorts.”
Their eyes wavered, and the exhaustion leeched back into them. The grasp they had on his arm tightened. “I’m sorry, Al. I feel really weird.” Their eyelids fluttered, and they released a strangled breath. “I feel like I’m burning up. Which is weird, it’s winter still.” 
Alastor could feel his smile wavering. He hadn’t heard of sinners getting fevers for anything other than strange illnesses. No one else in the hotel was sick, so how could they have contracted anything? He looked them up and down, noting the flush to their cheeks, and the sweat building up on the back of their neck. They were sick. 
“Hey, can… can demons get colds?” They asked, almost as if it was a joke. Before Alastor could muster a response, they collapsed. He deftly caught them, his surprise showing on his face. 
“Oh, dear,” he muttered to himself. Who would know about these kinds of things? Perhaps Charlie? But she was supposed to be rather busy that day. Perhaps Rosie would know! She had been in Hell for quite a long time. She was bound to know something. 
Alastor arranged his little soul-bond in his arms, and stalked back to their room. Their room was full of that smell that had thrown him off just before. It made his skin tingle, and his head feel full. He couldn’t account for it, but it wasn’t something he disliked. The discomfort came from the confusion that was growing in his breast. What a strange sensation!
Alastor wrapped them up in their blankets, hoping that perhaps getting warmer would help their fever. Before he stepped away from their bedside, he stroked their cheek with the back of his fingers. How soft their skin was! He stared down at their little face, taking in every detail. The white freckles that looked like stars against their gray skin, the way their lashes fluttered in their sleep. Their plush lips, just barely open, and the sharp teeth he knew lay behind them. His chest tightened, something aching deeply, as he looked at them. His smile tightened. Alastor decided it was time to go. 
On the way out of the hotel, he called for Husker. The cat-demon was clearly disgruntled at being called on earlier than he’d prefer, but Alastor didn’t care. 
“My little lamb seems to be sick. They’re in bed right now. If they don’t stir before noon, wake them up and make them eat something.” Alastor let the underlying threat color his words. He wouldn’t have their situation get worse just because Husker wanted to be lazy. They would eat, before he got back, and then he would help them get better. But first, he needed to know what was wrong.
“Alastor! My good friend! What brings you in on such a fine day!” Rosie’s fervor was nearly infectious, but Alastor had a mission. The feather on her hat bobbed as she tilted her head in question.
“Ah, I seem to have a problem,” Alastor replied. “Do you mind if we perhaps have a conversation in a less, public space?”
The deer-demon glanced about, as if to remind her of their location. Rosie nodded, still smiling happily. She gestured with a flick of her wrist, and led the way to the back of her store. 
When the two had finally settled into their seats, Alastor sighed. Rosie went about pouring some tea for them as he worked on his words. He conjured his microphone, idly tapping it. Something heavy weighed in his chest, and the feeling wouldn’t go away.
“Oh Alastor! You know you’re my favorite pal! Just tell me what’s on your mind. You look all twisted up!” Rosie sat back in her chair, sipping from a teacup that she held delicately. Her smile was welcoming and patient, and it soothed Alastor minutely. 
He was thankful for her breaking the silence, as it forced him to finally speak. “Do you know what might cause a sinner to get sick? Even if they have not been exposed to anything?” 
Rosie hummed to herself, a knowing look in her dark eyes. “Oh, this is about your little paramour, isn’t it?”
Alastor’s smile twitched, faintly. Of course! Rosie would be able to tell immediately. She was intelligent, and she was better at reading people than even himself. Not to mention, the two of them had been friends a long time. She could read him like an open book. 
“Yes,” he admitted. “They seem to be sick, and I don’t know what it could be. I’ve never seen nor experienced such a thing, here.” His claws tap at the armrest of the plush chair, as he props his chin up with the other hand. “They looked positively dreadful this morning! Claiming that they felt hot, despite the cold.” 
Rosie set down her teacup, letting a hand cover her smile as she laughed. “Oh dear! That is quite something.” She laughed again when Alastor let his annoyance show. “They’re a sheep, are they not?” 
Alastor nodded, not quite knowing what that aspect of his little soul-bond had to do with it. 
“And they are female, yes?” Alastor nodded again, his confusion growing. “Oh dear. You said some time ago that they had reciprocated the soul-bond, yes? And they’ve been down here for several months now.”
Rosie trailed off, as if expecting him to suddenly understand what she was implying. Alastor couldn’t think of how any of that had made them sick. Rosie picked up on how deeply confused he was, and sighed.
“My, my. You really don’t know about how demon manifestations work, beyond what pertains to yourself, do you?” Rosie waved a hand. “As you know, the form we take in death often have something to do with our life. The way we died, the way we lived, all of it contributes in one way or another. Lambs, sheep, whatever you want to call them, tended to have harder lives where they had no control. Often dealing in their bodily autonomy, or lack thereof.”
Alastor’s smile shrunk. Well of course, he had known what their life had been, but seeing that their new form was a reminder of that, each day? It made him uncomfortable. He hoped that his little lamb didn’t know why they were a lamb. 
“Yes, I see that you have connected some of the dots. They’re lambs to the slaughter, all of them in one way or another. Their forms, because it’s Hell, often come with some terrible side effects that don’t show for a while. Their stress needs to level out, and they need to feel comfortable with the demons they are frequently near.” Rosie raises her brows, waiting for him to get it, but he doesn’t. “When they’ve settled, and they’re around demons they like, or they bond, the side effects kick in. Your little lamb, is experiencing that now.”
“So, they will get sick, because they’re comfortable?” Alastor feels mildly bamboozled, as he tries to clarify.
“Alastor, no,” Rosie sighs. She rubs her forehead, carefully avoiding cutting herself with her claws. “They’re in heat.”
Alastor shifts in his seat, that uncomfortable feeling tingling in his brain again. “Heat? Like, like an animal?”
“Yes, like a ewe, Alastor. They will seem sick, for about a day, then they will be clingy with you for the next, and then it will happen.” Rosie leans back in her chair, again. Unlike Alastor, she seemed entirely comfortable with the topic of discussion. “They will have the strongest drive for sex that they will have ever experienced. Going without is said to hurt terribly, like their whole body is on fire. They’ll seek out comfort in you, or by themself. Whatever quells the urge.”
Alastor felt like he had been shot. Never in all his years, alive or dead, had he heard of such a thing occurring. How tedious! How disgusting. His nose scrunched up at the thought of having to deal with such a thing himself, but the thought of his lamb… Heat rushed down his chest and into the pit of his belly. His skin was itching. The thought of his soul-bonded needing him in such a way… Alastor could not tell himself that he disliked such an idea.
He was deeply aware of how much he had grown to care for them. When he had finally relinquished some control in their relationship, offering to tie their little string tight on his end, he knew it was cemented. Alastor had a bizarre, and new, kind of love for the sweet thing he had made a deal with. They were his, and for the first, and only time, he could say, he was also theirs. He still owned their soul, but it was different. Their relationship had shifted over time. There were no more orders, and there was no more fear. His little lamb had grown comfortable, happy even, and this ‘heat’ was the proof.
Something akin to pride ignited in his chest. Yes, they were happy with him. What a delightful thing to know for sure! 
“What should I do? I am not ready for anything of that nature, and I don’t want to risk them. They have had far too many choices taken from them,” Alastor says. His hands clasp together as he gives Rosie a moment to think. He didn’t want them forced into such an awful thing again. The realization that their experiences in life had caused this…anger was a word that barely described his feelings on the matter. He wanted to tear whatever being was in charge of such transformations into pieces. 
“They will need something, at some level. Tomorrow, bring it up to them, ask. Let them know everything you know, and give them a choice. They can try and ride it out alone, or you can be beside them. How you handle it beyond that is between the two of you.” Rosie stands, a gentle smile on her face. “You should get going, my friend. You should get back to them. You’ll want to feed them well over these two days. They’ll need the energy, no matter what happens.”
Alastor stands, thanking her, almost absentmindedly. His trip back to the hotel is spent in silent pondering. He needed to plan. He wasn’t sure if sex was something he desired for himself, but he knew, deep down, he would do it for them; he’d give them that pleasure, that joy. Alastor could also feel something possessive growing. The idea of anyone else getting to commit themselves to such a task made him grit his teeth. No, if anyone was going to touch the sheep-demon, it would be him. 
Angry flames licked at the bottom of his belly, something in his thoughts igniting them. They were his, and his alone. He would be the one to drive them to pleasure. (He ignored the memory of Richard and his deeds. None of that changed anything about what they deserved. It just meant that he needed to more carefully heed their wants and needs. He would give them the bliss that no other had). 
Alastor smiled widely when he returned to the hotel. Now he needed to sit by their side for the night, and then speak with them tomorrow. Perhaps a quick discussion with the others as well? The two of them would not be available for the next few days, and he needed to make sure they would remain undisturbed. Perhaps a different location would be ideal.
When you woke, all you could focus on was the smell of food. Alastor was a very good cook, and you knew from the lovely smell of spices, that it had to have been his food. When you finally cracked your eyes open, you were delighted to find yourself right. The demon was sitting on the edge of your bed, a steaming bowl cupped in one of his hands.
“Good morning, dearest,” he said. There was something akin to apprehension on his face, but you were far too hungry to immediately comment on it. “I figured you would be quite hungry, when you awoke, so I took the liberty of making you something hardy.”
You smiled widely in thanks. How sweet he could be to you! It was new, in your relationship, but you loved it. You held out your hands, thanking him as you did, but he didn’t hand you the bowl. Alastor merely gestured for you to sit up, and scoot back. You did so, hesitantly, your back settling against your headboard. You held out your hands again, but he settled himself close to you on the bed. With his legs swung over the side, he started spooning the stew.
“No, hey, wait a minute! I can feed myself!” You glared at him, confusion and a tinge of anger mixing together. 
Alastor sighed, affection leaking into his words. “I know, my love, but I need to tell you something quite…hmm, difficult might be the best word here. I want you to just listen, and focus on eating. Plus, I just love taking care of you.” One of his hands edges towards your face, claws softly stroking your cheek. He pulls it back, and spoons some more stew. “You can ask questions when I am done, but for now, eat.”
You grumble to yourself before opening your mouth to accept the spoon. Although you were loath to admit it, the stew tasted great, and him feeding you only felt slightly patronizing. 
“Do you recall how you felt yesterday? You said you felt like you were burning up. Well, when you fainted, I went to find out what could be the cause. I went to my good friend Rosie, you remember her?” He lets you nod before feeding you another spoonful. “I came to the conclusion that she would know enough about Hell, to know what was causing your sudden illness. 
“So I described it vaguely, and she realized I was talking about you, dearest. And she said some things that upset me, more than I had been willing to admit at the time.” Alastor sighs, static, that seemed ever present in his voice, fizzling out. The room was quiet for a moment as he let you swallow your food. “The way we manifest in Hell, has to do with the way we lived, and died. The things we experienced. I know you know some of this, but I also found out something more specific about your form.”
Alastor goes quiet, and you frown. Whatever could he have learned to cause the demon that never stops talking to go quiet? 
“Sheep demons are often the result of lives lived that had very little control over themselves or their situation. You are a sheep, because you had such little bodily autonomy in your life, my love.” He feeds you another spoonful as your eyes widen. He snorts to himself. “It made me so incredibly angry, to have that confirmed to me. It only got worse when she finally told me why that had anything to do with your illness.
“You aren’t sick. You are experiencing a ‘heat’, as she called it. It’s a side effect of being a sheep, or more specifically a female, sheep demon. It occurs when the individual has been comfortable with the demons in their vicinity and stress-free for a time. Soul-bonds can trigger this too.” 
Your brows scrunched up, and you swallowed the food before you had finished chewing. It hurt your throat, but the urge to grimace was too strong. How fucking terrible. It felt like you couldn’t escape anything from your life. Your eyes drifted to the wall. You couldn’t even make eye contact with Alastor. His gaze felt heavy on you, and all you wanted to do was hide. 
“I’m sorry, dearest. You need to know what ‘heats’ are, though. Then we can talk about what you would like to do about it.” Alastor sets the bowl down on your bedside table, taking the hint that you couldn’t eat right then. One of his hands tugs at yours, large claws wrapping around your whole hand easily. “Yesterday, the fever and the exhaustion, was the first day. The second, which is today, it’s common for the affected individual to be clingy, especially with a bonded pair.” His thumb stroked the back of your wrist, as he continued. “Tomorrow, the actual ‘heat’ occurs. You will be driven to-” 
Alastor cuts himself off with a cough, and it draws your gaze. “Sorry, my dear. I’ll continue. You will want to have sex. The desire will become a need, and it will consume you. I have been told that it can hurt, to go without, but that it is possible to handle alone. This is what I would like to talk to you about.”
Your nose twitches, and your lips quiver. Of course, this would be thrust on you. How could you deal with this? The idea of sex still unsettled you. However, he mentioned that it could be handled alone. Did he mean masturbation? Would something other than penetration work? Your thoughts whorled in your head, when one stuck to the forefront. 
The image of Alastor holding you tightly to his chest, hand cupping your navel and exploring lower, made your brain halt. The thought of his fingers rubbing at your clit, and his wonderful voice whispering in your ear. Him touching you gently, talking you through the whole ordeal, and bringing you to orgasm, lit up your mind. You suddenly wanted it more than anything. You didn’t need penetration from him, but you so desperately wanted to be touched.
Your cheeks flushed, and fluttering erupted beneath your navel. Alastor’s eyebrows raised as he took in your appearance. You were so glad that he couldn’t read your thoughts. How embarrassing, especially because he wasn’t the biggest fan of being touched.
The heat subsided as you remembered that detail. That would complicate things. The idea of being left alone, right now, made you want to cry. You hoped he didn’t want you to handle it by yourself. If all he could do was be in the same room, you would take it over being alone. 
“I know that neither of us are at the point where…sexual intercourse would be the best action. However, I don’t want you to deal with it alone. As new as this will be for me, I would like to be there for you. To help you with it, if you so desire.” Alastor leans in towards you, one of his hands cupping your face. “I would bring you pleasure, and help this ‘heat’ end for you, my love.”
Your eyelids flutter closed, letting his breath fan across your face as you think. You want him with you, badly. 
Alastor chuckles, making you look at him. “I can do that, my dear.”
Oh. You had spoken out loud. (Your brain feels like it's melting. It feels hard to think, but you push through). Your cheeks flush again. 
“Please, stay with me. I don’t want sex, but I would like your help, if you would give it to me.” Your eyes shift off of his face, shame curdling in your stomach. “I don’t know how to help myself very well, as it is. I would like to learn, with you, if I could.”
Alastor suddenly grabs both sides of your face, his own getting closer. “Look at me, my little lamb. You are deserving of such pleasures, and I would gladly help you. We can learn together, dearest. We can stop if you are ever uncomfortable, I swear it. I would never take advantage of such a situation.”
You smile at him. “Same for you, Al. If you don’t wanna touch me, or vice versa, just let me know. I can figure something out.”
Alastor’s smile softens, and his pupils expand. “Oh, love, worry not. The desire to touch you in such a way has been growing, and the thought has been stuck in my head all night.” His thumbs rub your cheeks, gentler than you had ever felt him be.
Your chest aches, and the sudden need to cry grows within you. You love this strange demon, despite everything that had happened in the last months. He was growing to be so good to you, and it made your heart hurt. 
“Can I kiss you,” you ask, your volume barely above a whisper. 
Alastor answers by molding his lips to yours. His skin is cool to the touch, but compared to the fire you were bathed in the day before, it was Heaven. One of his hands clutched the back of your head, brushing by your sensitive ears. A sound breaks free from your throat, and it makes him press into you harder. You clutch at his suit jacket, your lungs starting to burn. Before you can grow lightheaded, (although you definitely were from just kissing him, just not suffocating), he pulled back from you. 
“That was splendid, ma chéri.” His voice dips lower, his fake radio accent slipping. 
You bask in his presence, as you think over what tomorrow will entail. Although he feeds you a few more times that day, and you talk more about how you feel about it, nothing could prepare you for the full force of the ‘heat’. When he transports you to a room that you haven’t been before, you let your curiosity numb your anxiety. Worrying about it wouldn’t help you, anyway.
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murdockparker · 1 month
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Our Cottage
Benedict Bridgerton x Reader
Summary: A first anniversary is nearly as important and memorable as the wedding day—if only she had remembered it. Or, at the very least, hoped her husband also forgot. Knowing her husband? Unlikely.
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: fluffy fluff!! cheesy as cheese gets I'm afraid, mentions and illusions of sex but no smut (sorry babes maybe next time)
A/N: Another self indulgent fic for me myself and I. You're welcome to read it if you want I guess—I have nothing else to say about it
__
The room was too fragrant. 
Maybe it was her sensitive sense of smell that had awoken her, but something about the near ten bouquets that adorned her bedchambers led her to believe that both could be true. 
“What in the world?”
“Good morning, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, knocking unceremoniously on the door. “I do hate to intrude on your beauty sleep, but I was instructed to beat the drapes and I’m afraid this is the last room I have left to do.”
“No, no,” (Y/N) groaned, sitting up in bed, “I bet it’s time for me to rise anyway. Can’t sleep the day away.”
“You’re much more forgiving than Mr. Bridgerton,” Mrs. Crabtree smiled, entering further into the bedchambers. “As much as I miss the young master’s presence here at the estate, if he found out that I awoke you early,” she laughed quietly, “I reckon the mister and I would be packing our bags before nightfall.”
“Oh please,” (Y/N) peeled the covers off of her body, stretching her legs, “Benedict loves you both dearly—”
“But he loves you more,” the woman points, making good work of taking the drapes off the wall. “Why, do you think Mr. Bridgerton would purchase the same amount of flowers for me?”
She looks closer at the bouquets—all full of a different variety of blooms. Most filled with her favorites, but a handful were a collection of his favorites as well. “Why did Benedict purchase all of these flowers, anyway? It seems excessive…”
Mrs. Crabtree’s smile seemed secretive at first, fading in realization after looking Mrs. Bridgerton in the eyes. “Oh, my dear, you’re serious.”
“Benedict is usually known for romantic gestures,” (Y/N) said indifferently, “I do not recall a time he did something quite like this, though.”
“Well, I can recall a time Mr. Crabtree and I had to clean up a shocking amount of paint and a few precarious handprints across his study…”
She wished she was still in bed, wanting nothing more than to pull the covers over her bright red face. It was one of the many nights of their honeymoon—Benedict had the bright idea to try and paint with their bodies instead of brushes. She thought he had the decency to clean it all up in the morning. She thought, anyhow.
“I-I’m sorry you had to clean up such a mess,” (Y/N) said, praying the apology could transcend lifetimes. “I will be sure to let Benedict know he needs to be more careful with his oils.”
“Oh, your love keeps me young, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “But as I was saying—do you really not realize why your husband had purchased so many flowers?”
“Not a clue.”
“Perhaps it isn’t my place,” Mrs. Crabtree said slowly. “But you and the master have been married for a year now.”
“Yes, yes,” (Y/N) waved. “Nearly year of marital bliss—”
“A year ago, today.”
“Today is… surely not…”
Noticing a perfectly placed card in the bouquet on her nightstand, she grabbed it and quickly sped over the looping font.
~
Dearest,
I hope these blooms find you well, I instructed the Crabtrees to be extra careful in their delivery this morn. As exquisite as the flowers may be, and I insisted on their exquisiteness, they could never hold a candle to you. Light of my life and song of my heart, how pleasantly perfect the last year has been. 
Happy anniversary, my love.
Yours forever,
B
~
Their anniversary. Their first anniversary, and she had completely forgotten about it.
“Mr. Bridgerton is still visiting Kent until this evening,” Mrs. Crabtree explained, as if the young missus didn’t know. “I’m sure that provides ample time to prepare something for his arrival, at the very least twelve hours give or take.”
“How could I have forgotten?” (Y/N) was beside herself, forgetting her anniversary? Her first anniversary? Surely it wasn’t an omen of some kind. She was holding onto his note rather tightly. “What kind of a wife am I?”
“Not a terrible one,” Mrs. Crabtree said. “Why, I recall forgetting quite a few of my anniversaries as well.”
“Not your first one though, correct?”
“Well, no—”
“We need to go to town,” (Y/N) said determinedly, flinging her closet open, eyes scanning over every sensible dress she owned. “I need to figure out a way to top whatever spectacle my husband has planned for this evening.”
“I’ll call for a carriage,” Mrs. Crabtree sighed, knowing full well that the drapes will not get finished this afternoon.
_
“If we were in London, why, I’d have hundreds of choices on what to get Benedict,” (Y/N) said, skimming through the few booths at the market. Life out in the country was agreeable, favorable even, but it was moments like these that she truly missed the convenience of living in such a populated place. “I just do not see how I am to make a gift with anything here.”
“Perhaps, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree said, carrying a basket full of fresh fruit and veg—taking every opportunity of the market while they’re out, “perhaps you should try gifting something from the heart?”
“What to wives usually get their husbands for the first anniversary?” (Y/N) asked absentmindedly, fingers running over a healthy pile of apples.
“I find that most women in your place have the pleasure of gifting news of an heir right around or before the year mark,” Mrs. Crabtree said, a hint of a smile dancing on her lips. “I don’t suppose you can surprise Mr. Bridgerton with such news?”
Her face went red. “No. Decidedly not.”
“Shame,” Mrs. Crabtree clicked, “I was rather hoping to be doting on a babe sometime soon…”
“What did you give Mr. Crabtree for your anniversary?” (Y/N) tried to change the subject, ignoring the perfect thought of a little baby with Benedict’s eyes. Perhaps they would have her nose? Her smile?
“Well,” the older woman’s face lit up, “our Henry was the best kind of gift—for me or Mr. Crabtree. I wish I could be more help in that regard, dear.”
Defeated, (Y/N) threw a handful of apples into her basket. The apples weren’t even all that good this time of year. Perhaps she could convince Mrs. Crabtree to bake a pie. Either way, a snack for the horses and their hard work this morning.  
“Please forgive me for speaking out of turn, ma’am,” Mrs. Crabtree spoke quietly, “but your husband loves you dearly, I am quite sure he would be most content with any gift you give him.”
“Oh I am sure he would be well suited to accept anything I made or purchased,” (Y/N) agreed. “I rather think I could sneeze on a piece of parchment and he’d write to the National Gallery to induct it into their collection.”
“He would,” Mrs. Crabtree agreed, holding back a laugh.
“Why did I marry such a thoughtful man?” (Y/N) groaned, fist clenching tighter on her basket. “I am destined to be in this predicament every year until the day I perish, aren’t I?”
“To be in a happy marriage, ma’am?”
“To have to deal with my inadequacy for gifts,” she corrected. “We are but a competitive match, after all. Chess is a blood sport with us,” (Y/N) laughed, recalling the last time they had played the game. They both were of the same mind, irritating as it were, it was as if they were playing themselves. It usually ended well regardless, with one under the other in the bedroom. “He probably has been planning something since we were wed, I’m sure. How do I ever top such a thing?”
“Might I suggest the baby narrative again?”
“Mrs. Crabtree, I know you mean it in jest, but it really sounds like my only option at this point.”
“I cannot help my need to see perfect little Bridgerton babies around the estate,” Mrs. Crabtree said cleverly. “But I also know when that day comes and you and Mr. Bridgerton do end up having children, it will be the most welcome of presents. Just, not this year, hm?”
“No,” she sighed, “not this year.”
“Very well,” Mrs. Crabtree nodded. “Perhaps we should head back to the estate?”
“I suppose,” (Y/N) sighed again, kicking a stray rock off of the path. “No use in sulking at the market when I can sulk in the comfort of my own home and await my perfect husband’s arrival with his perfect present.”
“Chin up, dear,” Mrs. Crabtree laughed, putting the baskets away in the carriage. “It’s endearing that you care so deeply about Mr. Bridgerton's gift. I’m sure whatever you land on will be just perfect.” A tease of sarcasm, a tease at her young missus. 
“You’ve made your point,” (Y/N) grumbled, hopping into the cab. “Perhaps I should just accept defeat.”
“Oh, well now that won’t do,” Mrs. Crabtree admonished playfully, closing the door behind her. The carriage begun moving home. “You yourself said you were a competitive match, and I for one would like to see Mr. Bridgerton bested. All men need to be reminded that the wife is the true head of the house from time to time.”
(Y/N) snorted. How she cared so deeply for the staff here in the country, the Crabtrees were always a breath of fresh air. “He’s well aware.”
“Remind him anyway,” Mrs. Crabtree said absentmindedly.
As if struck by lightning, Mrs. Bridgerton knew exactly what she could gift her husband.
_
Benedict was exhausted. His family’s bad timing is never lost on him, needing his immediate attention at Aubrey Hall for one reason or another. His mother’s correspondence begged him to come urgently, a matter only meant to be discussed in person rather through letters. With a heavy heart he left his wife behind, knowing he’d only be gone for a handful of days anyway, even if he would be missing the majority of their anniversary day. 
Benedict grinned wickedly. They still had plenty of the night, however.
When he originally had purchased My Cottage, he never expected to share the less-than-humble estate with anyone else, but like it was meant to be—and he had a very good reason to believe it was—(Y/N) made it her own and took to the country as well as he thought. She had even made fast friends with the Crabtrees, who, by all regards, Benedict thought of as family. 
“Mr. Bridgerton,” Mr. Crabtree greeted, nodding to the young master exiting the carriage. Anthony had sent for him with a family transport—knowing Benedict would not want to leave (Y/N) without—all the more reason for his brother to agree to come to Aubrey Hall. “Welcome home, sir.”
“Crabtree,” Benedict nodded back, jumping down to the dirt path.
“How was your family, sir?”
“Dreadful,” Benedict groaned. “Made even more taxing by the two entire days of travel there and back. Do they not realize how far Wiltshire is to Kent?”
“I am sure the viscount is well aware,” Mr. Crabtree said, treading lightly. “I am also sure that they would not have called upon you for a small matter, either.”
“No,” Benedict sighed, rolling his shoulders. The trip had been a long one, his muscles ached. “It was a good reason for my visit, but it still pained me to be from my wife for so very long, especially today.”
“Ah, well, your missus has not been herself since you left,” Mr. Crabtree said. “I am quite sure that seeing you will be a happy reunion indeed.”
“Please ensure that you and your missus find your lodgings in the cabin, this eve,” Benedict said, as if the thought just occurred to him. Asking his staff to stay at the cabin by the pond became a regular occurance, especially after his marriage. “It is my anniversary, after all.”
Mr. Crabtree smiled. “Already done, sir.”
“Excellent,” Benedict said, trying his best not to grin from ear to ear. “Have a good night.”
“You as well, sir.”
Benedict knew that dinner would be waiting for him inside, Mrs. Crabtree probably having already made his favorites. After his day of travel, he was ravenous—more for food in this very moment than anything else, but he would settle for his wife, too.
“Darling,” Benedict called out, removing his boots by the front entryway. “Your fantastic husband has returned!”
Silence.
“Darling?” He called again, only to be met with the ticking of the grand clock in the foyer. “Playing hard to get, it seems…”
A shimmering of light caught his eye. Candlelight was emitting from his study, his studio, flickering from the crack under the door. 
Odd.
“(Y/N)…?”
He opened the door cautiously, only to find his wife hunched over an easel. She had a streak of blue paint on her right cheek, a smidge of green right across the bridge of her nose. Benedict couldn’t recall the last time he saw something so endearing. 
“Oh! Benedict!” (Y/N) said, nearly jumping five feet into the air. “You’re home!”
“I am,” he laughed, shutting the door to the study. “What’re you doing in here?”
“Cooking,” she deadpanned, posing with a hand on her hip, painters pallet in the other. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
“After all my begging to get you to pick up a brush, you decide to do it whilst I’m away?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “I cannot decide if I am touched or hurt.”
“It was meant to be a surprise!” (Y/N) laughed, setting the pallet down. “A gift for you.”
“A gift?” Benedict mused, walking closer to his wife. “And what did I do to deserve such a gift?”
“You married me,” she said simply, wiping her hands of any wet paint. They were still covered in a kaleidoscope of colors, but all dried down and hardly worth the effort to clean at the present moment. “A year ago today, I gather.”
“Oh yes,” Benedict said knowingly. “That is today, isn’t it?” His wife grinned up at him, looking more beautiful than the day he met her, a day he could have sworn was burned into his mind forever. 
“So I’ve been told,” (Y/N) said. “I hate to admit, but I started on this later that I would have liked, only working on it for the last eight hours—” 
“You didn’t happen to forget our anniversary, did you?” Benedict crossed his arms, his voice teasing.
“Of course not!” She lied, keeping her voice even. “You are just an impossible person to make a gift for, that is all.”
“Ah,” Benedict clicked. He did not believe her, but forgave her all in the same breath. “I see.”
“So it is not yet finished—”
“May I see it?”
“No, not yet,” (Y/N) said, turning the easel away quickly. He couldn’t have possibly seen what it was from where he was standing, anyway.
“What if…” Benedict crossed the room, carefully opening the closet in the wall. “We showed them together?” He pulled a similar sized canvas from the contents of the closet, covered in a plain white sheet. Of course he painted her something, it seemed only right. She married an artist, after all.
“Yours is going to be much better than mine,” (Y/N) said, nearly melting into the floor. “I will feel inadequate comparing our work.”
“Nonsense,” Benedict scoffed, walking back towards his wife. “They were both made with the same amount of love, I’m sure of it.”
“Perhaps…”
“Come on,” he said, nudging her arm with the corner of his canvas lovingly. “On the count of three?”
She nodded. “One.”
“Two.”
“Three.”
She spun the easel around just as Benedict removed the cover from the canvas in his hand. 
Laughter filled the room.
“Oh my darling, I could kiss you,” Benedict said, voice full of love, his eyes not straying from her canvas for a moment. “Granted, I have wanted nothing more than to kiss you since I arrived—”
“Out of everything we could have painted,” (Y/N) giggled, brushing hair out of her face. “We picked the same subject?”
On both canvases laid a landscape rendition of My Cottage, one obviously more well-done than the other. Benedict’s gave a sense of perfect imperfection, something worth hanging in a gallery or museum. (Y/N)’s, while being done by the hand of a novice in only a handful of hours, gave it the sense of home, the shared feeling the couple had every day at their estate.
“We share the same mind,” Benedict surmised, setting his work on a neighboring easel, putting both side-by-side. “What a stunning collaboration on our end.”
“You jest,” (Y/N) pushed Benedict playfully. “Yours is far superior to mine. A toddler could have done better work.”
“Nonsense!” Benedict said, pulling his wife into his side, kissing her temple. “You obviously put such care into it, no matter how lopsided the left side of our home may be—”  
“Benedict—”
“It’s brilliant, my love,” Benedict sang, turning (Y/N) to look directly at him. “I couldn’t have asked for a better gift.”
“Truly?”
“Well, I fear I am still waiting on my welcome kiss…” Benedict sighed.
“Needy, needy man,” (Y/N) bubbled, rocking on her toes to reach her husband’s face, all but happy to oblige. 
After a total of four days apart, the kiss was one that was worth waiting for. Saccharine sweet and slow, it was welcoming, it was home. Much like their first kiss, Benedict idly wondered if (Y/N)’s lips were always meant to be captured in his own—as if they were quite literally made for each other. 
“Oh dear,” (Y/N) giggled, pulling away from her husband’s embrace, thumb rubbing soothing circles on his jaw. He needed to shave.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” 
“Paint,” she said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “Entirely my fault. I’m not even sure how I got it on my face to begin with…”
“Hardly the first time,” Benedict quipped, leaning back in to kiss her once more. 
“Do you really like it?” (Y/N) asked, resting her head on his shoulder—their attention somehow turned back to the canvases. “Or are you lying to me?”
“I would never lie to you,” Benedict said. She believed him. “But, I do suppose a few more hours would boast well to the quality…”
Another playful slap to his arm. 
“Where are we to hang yours?” Her hand grazed his masterpiece. He must have finished it ages ago, hiding it away for just the right moment. “The entryway gets too much sun—” 
“What about our bedchambers?” He offered. 
“No, I want our guests to admire your work of Our Cottage,” she hummed, focusing her attention to the beautiful wreath he lovingly added to the front door. She loved adorning their door with fresh flowers, a detail he surely could have overlooked, but still included anyway. “Perhaps in the drawing room?”
“Our Cottage…” Benedict mumbled happily. “I think it’s high time we changed the name to that, don’t you agree? Seeing as it is no longer ‘my’ anything, not with you here.”
“Considering it still is not a cottage in the slightest, I have a few disagreements on that alone,” she teased. Their estate was nearly the furthest thing from a cottage, nearly a small mansion. “But yes… Our Cottage seems fitting.”
“And where will we hang your masterpiece?” Benedict pulled her tighter into his side. “Shall we hang them side-by-side? Allow our guests to see just how talented the Bridgertons can be?”
“Oh I am quite alright with stowing this away until forever,” (Y/N) laughed. “No guest needs to see this poor attempt when the true artistry falls onto you.”
“Poppycock!” Benedict dismissed. “My wife worked very hard on this, I refuse to just ‘stow it away’.”
“Well, then where do you suggest we hang it?” She said, trying not to smile, his praise flooding her senses from her head to her toes. 
“I may have a few ideas…”
_
The wondrous scent of flowers filled their home once more, something that happened more and more frequently in the summer months, when flowers of all sorts were in season. Benedict made sure he outdid himself from last year, adorning each room in their home with at least two bouquets each, rather than just a load in their bedchambers. His reasoning? They only get the once to celebrate their second anniversary, might as well make it special.
“Should we move this one?” (Y/N) asked, holding a rather large assortment in her hand. “I would hate for her to be overwhelmed by the scent…”
“Darling, she’s fine,” Benedict said, grabbing the bouquet from his wife. “But, if you insist, I shall make an exception on this room.”
“She’s a baby,” (Y/N) giggled, watching her husband clumsily run across the hall to place the bouquet in their bedchambers. “I do not think she has the capacity to admire such a thing yet.”
“We want our daughter to be well versed, do we not?” Benedict said, returning to the nursery. “Best we start her on the language of flowers as soon as we can. An educated lady is a respected lady.”
“You’re impossible,” (Y/N) grinned.
“So I’ve been told.”
“God, she’s so perfect,” she said, looking over the crib with a look one could only describe as lovestruck. “How did we manage to make such a beautiful thing?”
“You did most of the work,” Benedict said, suddenly beside her. “I only showed up the once, if I recall.”
“Oh hush,” (Y/N) leaned up against him, feeling the warmth of his body touching her own. “A perfect anniversary present.”
“She’s been quite the gift the last few months, I’ll give you that,” Benedict hummed, his fingers lazily rubbing shapes on the top of her arm. “But I’m afraid that title still falls to the gift from last year.”
Framed perfectly atop the crib of their precious baby girl was the rendition of their home, the one (Y/N) had worked so hard on a year prior. While it had looked a bit more polished after Benedict offered his wife some very well needed advice, it was still lopsided and patchy, but very much full of love. He had hung it two weeks later, after it had completely dried and framed, causing his wife to sob tears of joy on the placement. 
Their daughter was born only nine months after.
“Our Cottage,” she sighed happily.
“Our Cottage,” Benedict kissed her temple, looking down at his daughter and back at his beautiful wife. “Happy anniversary, my love.”
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nuhuhwinniethepooh · 1 month
Text
B-urn
Tags : Fluff then Angst, Smitten Gojo Satoru x F!Reader :), Gojo as a hateful dad, character death.
A/N : I've had enough of soft dad Gojo Satoru, I need some hateful dad Gojo Satoru or something similar to it at least.
WC : 1.7k
__________________________________________________
1 " Hey 'toru, Get some peaches on your way back. " " Hey, honey. "
"You're crazy," you whisper speechlessly, pushing a strand of wet hair off your eyes and gazing blankly at Satoru kneeling on the tiled floor with a velvet box in his hand, encasing a sparkly ring inside- both his and your birthstones, you notice.
"Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But one thing's for sure, I never thought I wanted to settle down. But now...now I just can't imagine a future without you," Satoru starts, you've never seen him so genuine of his feelings, so innocently vulnerable like he's gonna shatter if you say no.
"So please, answer my question. Can I marry you and make myself the happiest man to have ever lived?" He continues, gentler this time. You bite your bottom lip, holding a sob back as you nod, too afraid that you'll fall apart if you speak. You nod once again, feeling warmth envelop your skin as Satoru throws himself at you and peppers your face with kisses- 'Thank you's' and 'I love you's' slipping out his mouth like butter on a heated pan as he slips the ring on your finger.
You clear your throat, backing away as you look at the ring glint under the light with a smile," it's beautiful, Satoru. I love it but next time, please don't propose to me in the bathroom when I'm fresh out of the shower," you say with a wide grin on your face, tugging the towel around you to secure its position again. Satoru responds with a huge grin of his own, pulling you close and nuzzling your neck," Couldn't wait for tonight's date, I've waited long enough for this," he mumbles, placing soft kisses against your damp skin.
"Tha-," he shuts you up with his lips, "Okay, fine. Sorry, I'll keep the destination in mind next time," he apologizes with a sheepish grin but you know better than that, he's not the least bit sorry.
2 " I'm going shopping with your mum for my wedding dress today, I might be a little late. " " I hope you're doing fine "
The wedding was perfect from start to finish, the Gojo clan doing all the grunt work while the two of you made the final call at the end. Everything was perfect for Satoru, especially you. He even tears up a little when he watches you walk down the aisle towards him- muted giggles echoing in the enclosed wedding hall at his reaction. He had his blindfold removed for the day despite the fact that the shards of decorated glass and bright lights irritated his six eyes, a small sacrifice for the greater good.
The greater good being getting a better look at you, every blemish, every scar and every battle wound peeking out of your wedding dress was perfection to him. His heart tap-dancing in his chest when he meets your eyes, absolutely smitten for the look of pure joy in your face when your father finally rests your hand on Satoru's and the officiant starts the wedding, his words falling on deaf ears when Satoru chooses to gaze at you with adoration in his eyes instead.
Popping out of his reverie when your sparkling eyes meets his and a smile tugs at your lips," You're supposed to say 'I do' now," you whisper, squeezing his hand. "I do," his voice rings, loud and clear, squeezing your hand back after you do the same.
"You may kiss the bride." Finally.
"My wife," he thinks to himself happily before pulling you in and crushing your lips against his, the cheers from the crowd gradually turning into background noise, getting lost in the feeling of your warmth against his. He breaks the kiss only when thunder erupts and the pitter-patter of the rain starts loud and ominously, he turns and looks at you worriedly only to be left surprised when you look back at him with delight.
"Looks like even the heavens are blessing our wedding now," you hum, pulling him by the arm towards the door to the large balcony. Pushing the door open and dragging him towards the middle of the open balcony with a grin, the heavy rain immediately drenching the two of you- you let go of his arm, turning to face him with a hand held out," Can I have this dance?" a teasing grin on your face, Satoru swears his heart actually stopped for a second; grabbing hold of your hand, he places a quick kiss on your knuckles," gladly."
Gently swaying in the rain to the music drifting from the wedding hall, Satoru couldn't be happier. He's the happiest man to have ever lived when in your arms.
3 " 'll make breakfast tomorrow though, you want anything? " " I'm not sure if I told you this enough but "
Getting pregnant 3 years after your marriage wouldn't have been a surprising thing but it was for the two of you considering the fact that you went at it like rabbits. You wanted kids, he didn't, heirs and other matters be damned. He wanted you to himself for as long as possible, hoard your attention and love for as long as he could before you finally put your foot down.
The dreaded day arrived sooner than he liked, he'd have preferred another 7 years alone with you but you didn't give in this time. Adamant on bearing his child and starting a family, how could he ever say no to you? So he gives in and fucks you with a new goal in mind- getting you pregnant with his child.
Two weeks later, your breathe hitches as you look at the stick in your hand- you're pregnant. Excited squeals gushing out of you, you rush out the bathroom and to the shared master bedroom where you hold the pregnancy test up at Satoru's face. He looks at you with mild shock in his face," already?" He asks softly, taking the stick from your hand and looking at it blankly, sitting down on the edge of the bed besides him, you nod excitedly," We're gonna be parents, s'toru!"
Before you know it, he throws the test aside on the floor, pulling you in his arms and crushing you under his weight as he presses kisses all over your flushed face," we're gonna be parents!" You giggle, hands cupping his cheeks to slow down the barrage of kisses. Satoru still wasn't really sure about the idea of a child yet but your joy at the thought of it was enough for him to push that idea aside, what you wanted was what he wanted, it's a universal rule.
"We gotta celebrate this now, don't we?" He mumbles, hands slowly sliding under your shirt with a smirk, earning him a swat against his chest. "Gosh, you're disgusting," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and pulling him in. "And you love me for it, Mama," he coos, pressing a light kiss at the corner of your lips- your heart swells at the thought of being a mother, you were finally gonna start a family of your own with the man you love, life couldn't get any better.
4 " It might rain today so call me when you're done, okay? I'll come pick you up. " " I love you so much "
Fear and respect, two sides of the same coin, was easy to come by when it came to Gojo Satoru, hating even easier but what was hard was loving him, harder than it should be- Loving him was like climbing up a snowy mountain with nothing but a fork, Loving him was like crossing the seven seas with only a raft, Loving him was like trying to figure out what to do with a beloved china bowl that got smashed into pieces. It was nigh impossible to love him, anyone who did try gave up halfway through, only leaving him worse still. But everything changed once you came along.
You didn't climb the snowy mountain with a fork, not at all. You just waited long enough for a ski lift to be built for skiing enthusiasts and then took the lift yourself. You gave him time to adapt, time to breathe before finally making your way through the icy remnants of his scarred heart.
You didn't travel the seven seas with a raft, not at all. You just sold the raft and bought yourself a ticket for a worldwide cruise, enjoying every single moment on the long trip back to him. You gave him patience and waited happily for him to come around.
You didn't just accept your fate to pick the broken china pieces and throw it in the bin, not at all. You just gently assembled it and glazed it with lacquer, painstakingly painting over every crack with gold. You didn't fix him, you just accepted all of his broken pieces, that's all - the rest he did it himself.
It wasnt the fact that you took the easy way out, not at all. It was the fact that you put the effort to think about ways to love him- It was always hard to love Satoru, you just made it easy. So if someone asks Satoru why he loves you so, all he does is smile and answers " no reason at all." He just loves everything about you, he doesn't need a reason to do so.
5 " You don't sound so well, is everything okay? " " More than you could ever know "
20 weeks, 5 months, into your pregnancy and Satoru's already starting to feel uneasy, the change is small, unnoticeable to the normal eye even. But the change is there, his six eyes catching everything. You've gotten weaker, not externally per se but internally. He brings it up once when the two of you cuddle in the bed, you laugh and brush it off by saying," it's only natural." He's not convinced but he doesn't push it, opting to graze the curve of your cheek instead.
Something was really wrong, very, very wrong- You've been rapidly losing weight, the complete opposite of what should be happening. The growing baby bump only makes you grow thinner, finding it hard to even do the basic things, having to rely on Satoru for everything. He'd have been delighted on being relied on some other time but this time he's not, he's more concerned than anything.
The trip to the doctors doesnt change a single thing, every single one of them saying the same thing over and over and over again. "She's fine, just a rare case. It's better than it looks, 'ts just an uncommon case of weight loss during pregnancy." He swears its not, the very molecules that makes up you seems to be slowly but steadily gathering and surrounding one particular place, your belly but how could they know that? They were normal doctors, not some omniscient sorcerer like him.
So he grits his teeth, quietly holding your hand and holding onto his last hope, Shoko. Despite it not being her area of expertise, he can only hope for the best afterall she was a sorcerer too, she has to have the ability to figure it out...doesn't she? All hope comes crashing down when Shoko shakes her head, there was nothing wrong with you, the final verdict.
" I told you, didn't I? It's just an uncommon case, honey. You're too paranoid," you grin and tiredly pat his hand, boney fingers brushing against his. Your engagement ring and wedding ring hanging around a chain on your neck glistens blindingly under the stark hospital light- it became too loose to fit you anymore. Satoru feels slight prickles in his eyes from underneath the blindfold, he doesn't know why but he does. Forcing a tight smile at you, he nods," You might be right dear, but you know I can't help it when it comes to you," he mumbles, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles to hide his falling smile. You chuckle lightly, flushing at the contact," You're such a silly man, 'toru. "
6 " Hmm? Oh I'm fine, don't worry. How's work though? " " And I swear I've tried, I really have "
Problems over problems befall, the number of curses quickly increasing exponentially with no rhyme or reason and the higher-ups pressuring him from all side was taking a toll on him, not to mention your declining health. You looked healthier now, taking the supplements that Shoko provided helped you not look like you were gonna fall dead at any given moment. A farce, Satoru notes, you're healthier on the outside, dying on the inside. He even contemplates getting rid of the thing inside you completely but as if like you read his mind, telepathically catching onto his thoughts, you become more protective.
Hands always wrapped around your belly and eyes instinctively following his every movement, always on sharp alert. Waiting for something to happen, you're not entirely sure for what but you wait. Catching onto your guarded attitude, Satoru drops the idea immediately. He doesn't want you to hate him, he'd die if you did and even he's not sure if he means it figuratively.
He makes sure to coo at your belly every night though, sure he doesn't want a child but that didn't mean he didn't feel any love for it despite the toll it took on you. He just hates it as a husband and loves it as a father- hates it even more as a lover. Hiding his slowly growing apprehension of the unborn child inside you with a mask of an excited father-to-be.
You know Satoru acts off this days especially when he interacts with the baby but you don't say anything, he's a busy man and you were currently out of service which meant double the work, you couldn't possibly have the right to ask him what's wrong, right?
7 " 'Toru, don't worry about me. I'm not mad, I promise. Just try to get your business trip finish a little faster okay? " " So please don't hate me too much "
You're a nervous wreck, anxiety fully settling deep in your bones despite the contractions. The pain was doing nothing to alleviate the turmoil inside you other than making it worse, 7 hours in after your water broke and Satoru is nowhere in sight- you're nervous, in pain and surrounded by strangers. Shoko was kicked out, 'only family members are allowed in' they said, despite your pleas they ignore you. They were gonna have hell to pay later until then you had to push through it by yourself, it couldn't possibly get any worse.
Biting down on your lips after screaming your throat hoarse, you squeeze your eyes shut, the salty taste of your tears mixing in with the metallic ones on your lips only making you want to gag. Slowly, loud words starts to blur and dim as your vision gets hazy, drifting in and out of your consciousness while barely catching sight of the figures hovering around you," I see the head!" One particularly loud statement snaps you back into reality, everything ending too quickly from there with still no sign of your husband anywhere.
With the first cry resounding in the room, your heart rate falls rapidly; the once searing pain only a throb now, a small respite but an unwelcoming one. You wish for the numbing chill to be replaced for the burning pain, praying for the latter if it meant that you could still breathe in the scent of his skin, still comb your fingers through arctic white hair, still stare into his cerulean blue eyes, still lay your head above hi- "I'm sorry" a hushed whisper in the chaos.
The high-pitched beeps flatlines, parallel lines all in all. The silence is too loud and the air too thick, working their way to restart a heart that's already dead and gone. Somewhere in the distance another heart drops, not with the promise of death but of something much worse. What use is a beating heart if the soul is already dead?
8 " I'm sorry I couldn't make it, I swear I tried " " But I can't do it "
Satoru doesn't hate her. No, he abhors her. The feeling of complete hatred and malice against an individual- every babble, every cry, every coo, her very existence disgusts him to the core. Somedays he just wants to snap her neck, it'd be so easy, so quick, so satisfying, so very dreadful. Somedays Satoru even considers it, his long slender fingers wrapping around her small sleeping figure and squeezing just a little, just a twitch but her eyes always flutters open, always gazes at him with a smile, always holds her chubby little arms out to him.
It's not her smile, her voice or his guilty conscience that stops him, it's her eyes. Your eyes. The curve, the shape, the color, the very crinkle reminds him of you, your eyes are staring back at him but it's not you. It'll never be you. Pulling his hand back like he got burned, he rushes out. It's what he always does these days, he runs and runs until he can't anymore, hoping that maybe somewhere along the way, he'll finally find you again.
You're so cruel and so very heartless, if you were gonna leave him in the end you should've never made him love you at all but you did, you did and he loves you. He loves you and you left.
Satoru is always bitter, maybe if she didn't have your eyes then maybe it'd be easier to get rid of her, maybe it'd be easier for him to move on. But you're always there, your first gift being her last saving grace. Your eyes, your first, your life, your last. Maybe you knew about it, you always did say that you wanted a baby that looked like you. He never bothered to ask why because he agreed with you, he always agrees with you, but now he seems to understand why, you always did understand him better than he did himself.
So all he does is mourn, he mourns but he doesn't cry- he didn't cry when he got the news of your death neither did he cry when he saw your body, not a single tear in sight. He just silently stood by your side, gently grazing your face with a finger, hands interlocked with yours until your last moment. And like all sorcerers fate, he watched your body get cremated until nothing but ashes were left in the end. Silently making his way back to a dark and empty house with nothing but the urn of your ash in his hand. He still doesn't cry when he hugs the urn close to his chest and stares at your side of the bed late into the night, he doesn't cry at all.
He doesn't cry because he can't cry. Tears are the embodiment of an emotion, what use are they for a man who's already gone numb?
9 " I love you " " I can't love her "
"Hiiii, 'toru"
"Hey, honey."
"How's everything over there?"
"She's growing up fast, you'd be surprised. She has my hair, y'know? Well, the color at least. It's funny how she's starting to resemble me, it's almost uncanny. She has your eyes though, it's like she copy-pasted your eyes onto hers, it's almost scary because it feels like it's you thats looking back at me sometimes. And well, she started going school now; just wanted to let you know that-"
"Well, that's sounds fun"
"...it's really not, not without you here"
"Aww, you miss me that much~?"
"I do, I miss you so much that it physically hurts"
"Aww I miss you too, honey. Tell you wha-"
Satoru sighs, cutting the saved voice message. What was he even doing, answering to your pre-recorded voice like a deranged person. But maybe he was deranged or tired perhaps both, he's not sure but what he was sure of was the fact that he hated he-
"Papa?"
Satoru hears before he sees, the door swinging open ever so slightly to showcase a pair of eyes, your eyes, meekly looking at him. Your eyes in his face but it's not you neither is it him, it's neither you or him but it's both you and him. It's so conflicting.
"What is it?" His voice softer than he wanted it, harsher than expected.
"I just wanted to show you the drawing I made today in class." Her voice is quiet, her footsteps even quieter as she slowly walks up to him, a rolled up paper carefully held in one tiny fist. She was so small, so tiny, so quiet, so utterly disgusting. Placing it down flat ever so quietly on the table, she takes a step back "It's you, me and...mama" she mumbles, pointing at the three stick figures accordingly.
Satoru pulls his blindfold up and narrows his eyes at the stick figure that was apparently you, your hair was wrong, the color, the length, the very style was wrong. "I-I don't know how mama looks like" she admits, tiny hands grabbing onto her shirt as she looks down.
"Of course, you don't. You killed her, sucked her life-force right out like a fucking parasite" he thinks bitterly to himself, fingers grazing over the paper. Everything was wrong, this whole situation was wrong, but the crudely drawn smile on your face wasn't. The smile wasn't, your smile wasn't. The edges of the crayon smile was raised just perfectly, you smiled just like that, always did even when he-
"Papa?" She calls out, eyes peeking through the soft tufts of arctic white hair- Satoru clears his throat, quietly re-adjusting his blindfold before nodding quickly "it's good, good job." He says, fingers gently outlining the curve of the crayon smile- it's what you would've said to her had you been the one in his place so it's what he'll say to her in your place. "You may leave now"
And don't ever come back.
She nods, reaching out for her drawing but Satoru shakes his head, tugging it closer to him which earns him a surprised reaction, something hopeful glinting in her eyes as she nods and quietly scurries out the door. He sighs when the door closes with a click, standing up and rummaging through his office for a spare frame. You'd have framed it and gushed about it had you been there but you weren't so the least he could do was frame it, he's framing it because it's what you would've done, it's what you would've wanted him to do.
He can't love her for you, he loves you and he'd do anything for you but loving her for you? He can't do that, he's more selfish than that.
Satoru sighs as he carefully puts the drawing in the frame, it's what you would've wanted, it's what you would've done. So he'll do it for you because it's you that loved her.
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THIS TOOK SO LONG AND IM FINALLY BACK! I ALSO FOUND A PARTTIME JOB! YAY! Gonna take a lot to buy a new laptop though so wish me luck!
Masterlist
451 notes · View notes
doitforbangchan · 3 months
Text
All Bark and No Bite 07
Happy Valentines day!!!!!! To celebrate this day of love here is an early chapter!!! Love you guys <3
Masterlist
Series masterlist
Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8
ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe
Previous - Next
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 
Chapter Warnings: possessive! Chan, kissing, sexual references, suggestive, misogyny, sexist ideals, crying (as usual), cursing, angst, fluff. (I am so bad with warnings please let me know what I missed.)
WC: 4k
MDNI 18+
Five days.
It took five whole days before your heat finally ended. Towards the end you had started to feel like it really was going to go on forever. For you and Chan it was an endless cycle of fucking, knotting, snacking and then starting all over again. You had almost forgotten what it was like to have a clear head, one where it's not being constantly overcome with the fogginess of your heat. 
Your whole body was sore when you woke up on that final day. It had only been about 3 hours since you last came, the exhaustion causing you to pass out right after. Sore, tired, and thirsty. Those were the top things on your mind. Well, that and Chan. He had you wrapped up tightly in his arms while he snored next to you. The… activities must have taken its toll on him as well. 
Now that you had a moment of clarity to yourself you couldn’t help but reflect on the last week.  You felt humiliated. Never in your entire life had you ever acted like that. Then again, never in your life had you ever been that needy. That wanting. That horny. 
It was a hard pill to swallow, that that's the way you had lost your virginity. When you imagined your first time there were always sweet kisses, lingering touches, maybe soft music in the background. Not the hard pounding it had been, the way you had begged it to be. You couldn't fault Chan for that. It was all on you. You know he did what he had too for you. You would apologize for that later. 
You would have to apologize to the whole pack. Especially Jisung and Jeongin. Your heart clenched when you thought of the turmoil you put them both through. The amount that you cared for those boys is staggering to say the least. Really it was how much you cared for this pack. You had just met them but it felt like it's been a lifetime. And the thought of you doing anything to upset them… You buried your face in your hands to keep from waking Chan with your emotions. 
Chan. 
That's right. If there was one good thing to come out of this, it's that Chan said he loved you. Your alpha said he loved you. He had exclaimed it over and over again these past few days, everytime he came inside of you. You were too out of it each time to really register his words then. And he had claimed you. Marked your body for all to see. For all to know you belonged to him. That made you giddy, replacing the sad thoughts from before. You really were having a whirlwind of emotions. 
As comfy as laying here with him was, you desperately needed to pee. As gently as possible you shimmied your body out from his hold. You knew he needed his rest. Once your feet hit the floor beneath, your legs almost collapsed under you, they were aching from all the different positions Chan had you in. Remembering it brought a red flush to your cheeks. You steadied yourself and made your way to his adjoining bathroom. 
When you exited you found Chan sitting up in his bed, dark hair messy and eyes tired. When he saw you come through the door he gave you a sleepy smile and opened his arms for you to join him once more. You crawled in next to him with zero hesitation. 
“Mm there's my sweet baby. I was beginning to think you skipped out on me.” He mumbled into your hair, using his hand to caress down your arm. 
You let out a giggle at his words, “Never. Alpha.” 
Now that you were in your right mind, you could take in what Chans’ room looked like. His sheets were a dark maroon color, and his curtains were of the same color. He had small strip lights behind his headboard and some wrapping around the ceiling. There was a large sound system in the corner along with a desk and a pc. 
Chan pressed a peck against your head. “What time is it?” 
You peered at the alarm clock next to the bed. “7:45. Still really early.” He hummed in acknowledgment and curled himself around you tighter. 
“Let's nap a little longer before we tell the guys to come back. I’m sure once they arrive we’ll have our hands full again.” You nodded in agreement. 
“Chan. One thing before we fall back asleep.” He hummed for you to continue. 
“I love you too.” 
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It was around 10:30 when Minho had gotten a call from Chan -the first time they had heard from him in days- that the pack could return home. There was an urgency from most of the pack to get home, to their own beds and to you. 
Jeongin seemed to be the only one dragging his feet. He was terrified to face you and Chan, terrified that Chan would want to kick his ass for his behavior, or worse, want to kick him out of the pack completely. The young alpha had been assured many times that nothing of the sort would happen: that he had done no wrong, but Jeongin refused to listen to reason. It had been eating him up inside. 
After their argument Seungmin and Minho had apologized to each other. They had a serious conversation with Felix being the mediator and the youngest beta was able to understand where the elder was coming from and vice versa. Minho definitely needed to chat about it with Chan. 
Everyone else was just ready to be home. They loaded up the cars quickly and began the short drive there. 
----------------------------------------------
After a nap it was time to get the house ready for the packs arrival. You started by opening all of the windows to air out the place, and rid it of the smell of sex that was lingering behind. Chan started the laundry while you did the windows, the sheets and bedding stained with your combined essence. Then it was shower time.
 Chan took his time washing every inch of your body, paying special attention to the area between your legs. He was gentle with you. He knew you deserved it after he had been so rough with you during your heat. The alpha left sweet kisses on your bruised skin where his fingerprints remained, giving each one their own peck. He made sure to remind you after each one how sorry he was and that he loved you. 
If you weren’t so tender you would ask him to  take you right there in the shower. Instead you tell him shyly that you kind of like the bruises he left on you. That it is a possessive reminder. 
‘Fuck she really is perfect’ He believed it wholeheartedly. 
Once you were both clean and refreshed Chan gave you one of his tee shirts and a pair of his boxers to wear. He didn’t feel bad about ruining your clothes from before, if anything it brought him joy to rip them to shreds. They were just a reminder of the life you left behind, no need for that when all you need is the pack. Is Chan. 
His shirt fell to your knees, completely covering your thighs giving the illusion that you had no bottoms on at all. You hadn’t noticed that little detail but Chan had. He gave your butt a swift patt as you passed him on your way to the kitchen. The alpha had merely stated the guys would probably be hungry upon their arrival and you immediately sprung into action preparing an assortment of breakfast foods. When Chan offered to help you, you had shooed him out stating it was the least you could do for everyone. 
This was the kind of woman Chan had always wanted. Submissive, subservient, and oh so sweet. You had already proved yourself to be all of those things. He felt like the luckiest man alive to have found his perfect woman. To have his perfect woman wander onto his property. 
When the rest of the pack arrived home they were hit by the appetizing aroma of bacon and baked goods. God it was good to be home. Changbin was the first one out of the car, flinging his door open and sprinting inside. Hyunjin and Seungmin laughed at the alphas enthusiasm as they exited the same car. The second car pulled up a moment later. 
Changbin headed straight for where he assumed you would be- the kitchen making all these delicious smells. He was correct and was greeted by the sight in just a t- shirt standing over the stove while you flipped pancakes. He let out a low groan at the sight, causing you to notice him with a bright smile. He charged you and engulfed you in his arms. “Hello Baby!” 
“Welcome home, Binnie.” You laughed when he lifted you into the air and spun you around. 
Chan let out a loud cackle, watching Changbin, happy the boys were home. 
Changbin set you down right as the other boys came to stand in the entryway of the kitchen. 
Your cheeks were bright red and you cast your eyes down as you gripped the spatula. Now that they were all here you felt very insecure. 
“Hi guys. I'm so happy you’re home.” You smiled shyly and bit your lip. Your actions made them want to melt into a giant puddle right there. 
Jisung was the next to attack you with a hug, latching himself onto your body with a quiet sob. 
“What's wrong Ji?” you questioned with worry. ‘Oh no what did I do?’ You wondered anxiously. 
“J-just so happy you’re ok.” He let out in a wail. “I was so w-worried about you.” Your heart clenched at his words. You dropped the spatula on the counter and fully embraced him now. The tears are now beginning to form in your own eyes. 
“I am alright, I have also been worried about you! I am so sorry for what I did to you.” You looked behind Jisung to the other guys, “For what I did to all of you and the stress it must have caused. Then causing you all to have to leave your home.. It's all my fault and I am so sorry.” The tears were flowing freely. Chan felt his heart break at your words. All of the pack did. 
Jisung began peppering your cheeks with light kisses as Felix and Hyunjin swarmed you as well, it now being a beta cuddle pile in the kitchen. 
“Y/n?” A timid voice called for you, you squeezed your way out of the beta sandwich to face Jeongin looking bashful. “I wanted to apologize to you” He looked at Chan “To both of you- for how I acted. I know it wasn’t cool and I can promise it won't happen again.” 
You wiped your tears, “It’s my fault Jeongin. If I had been able to sense my heat this all could have been avoided.” 
“If I had been able to control myse-” The young alpha was cut off by Chan bear hugging him. Jeongin returned the hug twice as hard, shocked at his alpha. 
Chan pulled away with a clap to Jeongins back, “If you really hadn't been able to control yourself you would have taken her right there on the floor. This would have been a very different conversation. I’m proud of you Innie.” Chan turned to smile at everyone. “I am grateful and proud of all of my boys. Nobody here has to apologize to me.”
It was at that moment you understood why Chan was head Alpha. He was a natural leader, and he respected his pack just as much as they respected him. You could see it in the way the guys looked at him. You were definitely one lucky girl to have found yourself in this pack. 
Chan turned to you next “And you,” He pointed right at you. “You need to stop apologizing. None of this is anyone's fault. It’s just nature, Baby. Plus because of your heat now every single person will know whose pack you belong in.” He gestured to the bite mark on your neck with a smirk. 
At the mention of the mark you went to touch it but were stopped as Seungmin came up and tilted your head to the side to get a good look at it. Seems like these guys have no problems manhandling you now that you're mated to their Alpha. 
Seungmin traced his finger over the red flesh, feeling the divots in your skin 
He let out a low whistle “Damn Hyung, you really got deep in there huh?” 
Felix snickers “In more ways than one.” Chan just flicks Felix on the forehead while everyone else laughs. 
Minho had been watching this entire exchange, taking in everything that was said and how everyone acted together. It felt familiar, like it had always been like this. He could see how happy everyone was together, and it made him incredibly guilty for the way he's been acting and speaking about you. He knew he needed to talk to Chan today, needed to get all his thoughts off his chest to his alpha. To apologize man to man. He came up to you, and stopped right in front of you before leaning down and giving you a very soft tussle to your hair. 
“Good to be home.” He smiled at you, Felix giving him a thumbs up.  
Hyunjin was the next to speak, “Does anyone else smell burning?” 
You gasped.
“MY PANCAKES!”
---------------------------------------------
After a group breakfast full of jokes made by the guys and some light pouting from you (still upset about your pancakes), it was unanimously decided to have a relaxing day, watching movies and napping. Seungmin had pointed out how tired you and Chan looked, snickering about why you both were so exhausted. All you did was blush and stick your tongue out at him, causing everyone to laugh at how cute you were. Seungmin teased you, “What? Gonna throw another can at me?” 
In all honesty, every member couldn’t take their eyes off of the bite left on your neck. It was a symbol that you were claimed now- claimed by their alpha, for their pack. It almost felt like an invite. An invite for them to have you in the ways they've been craving. Your purity had already been taken by their leader, now it felt ok for them to shoot their shots with you; respectfully of course. 
You all sat in various places around the living room (You made it a point to not sit next to Seungmin) You were in between Jisung and Felix on the love seat, the betas cuddling you and every so often laying small pecks to your skin. It brought a red flush to your skin every single time and they loved it. 
Changbin had suggested a romcom, something you've all seen so if anyone falls asleep no one would be missing anything. It was settled on ‘the princess bride’, one of your favorites. 
Chan noticed about half way through that you had fallen asleep leaning on Felix with Jisung sleeping leaning on you. It was the cutest thing he had ever seen so he sneakily pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to the pack group chat. 
Minho was one of the only ones still awake and when he noticed Chan was as well he figured it was now or never. He shot Chan a quick text asking if they could talk. Once he read it Chan nodded at Minho and quietly lifted himself from his spot on the recliner, Min doing the same from his spot from the floor where he was wedged between Jeongin and Hyunjin. 
Min followed Chan up the stairs up to the third floor and into Chan's office. The beta had been in there many times before, but this time instead of the normal comfort he usually felt it now felt like a confessional. That he was there to be damned for his sins and accept divine punishment. Though, honestly that's exactly what was happening. 
Chan leaned against his desk casually as Minho closed the door behind him. The second it was closed the beta wasted no time in launching into his apologies. 
“You have probably noticed I've seemed less than enthused lately, with the arrival of Y/n.”
Chan nodded, “Yeah I was waiting for you to come to me about it.” 
“I guess the best way I can phrase it is I've been feeling overprotective and insecure. It’s just been the eight of us for so long, and literally out of nowhere there's another person coming in. Someone we don’t know or know exactly where she came from. And especially a stranger with baggage like she has with her family and another pack.” He paused like he was trying to find the right words. 
“If I'm speaking honestly, when you brought her home into our pack without even mentioning it to me first, it kinda hurt my feelings. I am one of the other elders in the pack, and I thought I was like your second in command. It didn’t feel right not even getting a heads up. Don’t get me wrong- I am so happy you have found your mate. I know you’ve waited for her for a long time. And all the other guys seem to love her too. It was just a hard pill to swallow for me.” 
Minho waited for Chan to scold him for his thoughts, but it never came. Instead, to his surprise Chan said “I understand, Min. It was really sudden. I honestly couldn’t believe I would let someone in so quickly either. And you’re right, you are my second. The least I could have done is run it by you. I am sorry Min.” 
The beta rubbed his eyes and sniffled, keeping his tears at bay. He wasn’t one to cry, usually he's the one comforting the softer members when they cry. He especially didn't cry in front of his leader. 
The alpha approached the younger and wrapped him in a tight hug. They hadn’t had a hug like this in a while, it was comforting to both of them. Minho was the first to pull away, Chan giving him a pat on his back 
“Now that you’re being honest with me, what do you think about her now? Has anything changed for you or do we need to work on the trust?” Chan inquired genuinely curious. 
Min took a second before answering, “ I think I'm coming around to her. In my heart I know she has no malice, it is just hard to trust an outsider. But honestly Chan, I think another part of why I've been having trouble accepting her is that-” He paused, unsure if he should say the next part. Fuck it, “ that theres a part of me that.. craves her. And I feel guilty about it since she is your mate.” 
At his words Chan gave him a wicked smile, like he had been waiting for that answer. “Oh Minho. That is not a reason to feel guilty, at least not in this pack. I may be the jealous type, but the thought of sharing her with you guys.. Excites me. Makes me feel like I’m providing for my pack to be frank.” 
“Well I know the other guys are feeling the same way, maybe minus the guilt.” Minho gave a light shrug. 
The alpha kissed his teeth, “I can tell. They’ve been all over her since you got home. I’m going to have another discussion with Y/n about her role as pack omega, but I don't think she’s going to have a problem with it. She seems very taken with everyone. The hardest part for her will probably be accepting that it's ok for her to want them. To want you..” He could see the beta visible gulp at the thought. “ I also think all of us men have to talk about what is ok with her and what is not. And I need to get her to a doctor before any of you take her that way. Those suppressants really fucked with her body.” 
“Do you think that’s why her heat came on so suddenly like that?” Minho questioned. 
Chan nodded, “ Yeah she said she had been on them since she was a teenager, and hadn’t had a heat since she started taking them.” his eyes hardened, “Her pathetic father didn’t know how else to protect his daughter so he resorted to poisoning her.” The alpha practically growled at the last part. 
Minho felt more understanding of why it all happened like it did. Now he really felt bad for his past thoughts. “That’s… really terrible. Hopefully the doctor in town will know how to treat an omega.” 
Chan shrugged, “ I'll make an appointment for tomorrow afternoon. I have to take her to the police station tomorrow anyway, to clean up the missing persons file.” 
Minho suddenly remembered you don't have any clothes to wear. He wanted to do something nice for you. He asked Chan if he could run into town real quick and the alpha smirked having caught on to the betas idea.
With one more friendly pat on the back, Minho made his way out grabbing his keys and left the home. 
--------------------------------------------
It had been about noon when you fell asleep on the couch, and when you awoke it was late evening, the orange beams of the setting sun lighting the living room in a soft glow. Felix was awake underneath you, scrolling through his phone quietly so as not to disturb you or Jisung who was still slumbering on top of you.
When the blond felt you stirring he gave you a delicate smile, whispering “ Hi baby.” His freckles were very pronounced with the evening sun, illuminating them like intricate star patterns. If you hadn’t known better, you would think you were still dreaming. 
In your awe of him you whispered back “You’re so pretty Lix.” 
He set his phone down as the red rushed to his cheeks, he leaned in close so you couldn't see his blush. “ You wanna know a secret, Baby?” 
“Hmm?” 
“I think you’re prettier.” He left a delicate kiss on your cheek. 
A drowsy voice was heard from atop you.
“Am I pretty too, Baby?” 
You peered over to the other boy with a giggle, looking right into his barely open eyes. “Of course you are Ji. One the prettiest boys I’ve ever seen.” 
It was true. You had never seen anyone who looked like Jisung. His bright boba colored eyes, his rounded chipmunk cheeks, and his pouty lips were uniquely Jisung. You couldn't help but imagine those lips of his on your own, and also somewhere else. He was very alluring to you. 
He hummed in satisfaction, nuzzling his face into your side. He mumbled a muffled “and you’re the most beautiful I’ve seen.” 
Before you could bashfully retort you were attacked by Hyunjin who threw himself on top of the three of you. “Hey finally you're up!” 
“Ahhhh Jinnie!” Felix groaned at the bottom of the pile. 
Hyunjin just cackled at the younger boy's plight. He rolled off of jisung and crouched down in front of you all. 
“Been waiting for you to wake up.” He had a cheeky smile like he was excited then made eye contact with you and the smile grew even bigger. “There's a surprise for you upstairs.” 
“For me?” you questioned in confusion. 
“Mmhmm” He nodded enthusiastically, then rose on his feet and began peeling Jisung off of you. The younger beta whined in protest but doing nothing to stop it from happening. 
Felix lets you stretch for a moment before helping you to your feet. Your legs still felt weak and Hyunjin must have noticed because he crouched down in front of you for you to climb on his back. 
“Hyunjin.You can't carry me up two flights of stairs.” 
He scoffed, looking offended. “Try me.”
A/N: To everyone worries about Minho accepting her, I hope this quells your apatite for the fluff <3 I really enjoyed writing this chapter, idk why but I hope yall enjoy it as much as I did.
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
©doitforbangchan
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st4rrth0ughts · 3 months
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Hello!!! Since I've been reading all of ur fics especially the hsr ones, I like it so much(⁠๑⁠♡⁠⌓⁠♡⁠๑⁠) . I don't know how you got the idea of it and it makes me feel giddy. If u may , can I request: I want to do unspeakable things to Welt Yang(I main him) like I wanna mark him, bite him, doing different positions, just mating non-stop, I don't know what to add for the reader, you can add tho if ya want, but I want the reader taller (⁠。⁠・⁠/⁠/⁠ε⁠/⁠/⁠・⁠。⁠). This is my first request btw (I apologize if I have the wrong grammar or the text of it)
Can I be your "❄️" anon? (⁠>⁠0⁠<⁠;⁠)
bestie no need to apologise that thought is so real (btw whats your team comp i need one for peepaw)
welt with a taller baker reader from the luofu 👓🦯
tw, cw: angst (reader is dead in hi3,) i dont play hi3, food play (occasionally feeding him some chocolates for being a good boy, nothing extreme), petplay, reader is immortal and thus is extremly confused on how Welt's vocal cords are working a/n: 1. what the fuck is a honkai 2. should i play hi3 3. does anyone hate feeding and fattening related kinks??? sorry but i just- cant even try and read those fics ngl the art makes it WORSE
welt loves you. at least, that's what he tells himself, seeing your counterpart work around in the luofu's famed bakery, having been years since he's held your dying body in his arms, sobbing as the light drained from your eyes. He's snapped out of his thoughts as you shoot him a friendly grin, gesturing the man and his two companions to come in. You look the exact same that he remembered you. But your not the same person. He cant just go in and try to convince you he's your lover from another universe, he'll look like a maniac! well, it seems the months of exchanging letters and gifts has won him the spot in your heart. Oh, and in your bed, as a bonus.
Sometimes, when Welt looks at your face, he feels like both crying and hugging you. You just- looked so much like your dead counterpart, from your eyes and hair, down to the way you fucked and handled him with so much care in bed. But he knows that you aren't them, never will be, in fact. And that's okay. He loves you in his own way, just like he loved them once. The man would never lump the two of you together, because you aren't them. (blade im looking at you)
But for now, he doesn't focus on that, simply relaxing in your hold, letting you unbutton his shirt, slide your hands over his underwear, your coarse but gentle voice sending shivers down his spine. A small whimper escapes his mouth as your finger teases his entrance, while you grin at how slick he already is, at least you dont have to find the lube. Lifting his thighs onto your shoulder, and licking that sweet pussy delicately, eliciting a delightful moan from the man, fisting your hair as he tries to grind weakly against you face.
This lovely man, for someone that's 82 years old- well, in human years? You were an immortal from the Luofu, humans are confusing. That being said, from what you've read, humans are more fragile in this state. How he was squealing and crying out in such a high pitched voice, arching his back as tears spill from his eyes as your tongue ravishes his pretty pussy, you figure that he's straining himself, just for you. How adorable, he's doing such a wonderful job. and good boys deserve a huge reward! Cooing softly as you push a small piece of chocolate in his mouth, watching him swallow it as he pants softly, a delirious smile on his face.
Grunting as you gently placed a collar around the man's neck, the leash's end gently clicking around the loop, smiling as he whines softly at the gentle pressure on his bite ridden neck. Pulling the leash closer, the bell jingling lightly as you pull him in for a sloppy kiss, free hand reaching down to fondle his nipples, watching the brunette throw his head back as he jerks from the stimulation, shrill shrieks escaping the man's mouth as he begs for your cock in him, to fill his cunt with your cum. He's been doing such a good job, he deserves the final prize.
Muffling his sobs as your cock pounds into him from behind, only for his head to be yanked back as you tut your tongue disapprovingly, his mind only registering about how he was being such a naughty little puppy, and that if he does that again, you'll just stuff a plug up his pussy, and leave him there, and he doesn't want that! So he's your good boy, eyes rolling back and tongue lolling out as he makes sounds that rival the top pornographic models you've seen. Aeons- you can practically feel your cock threathening to cum when he squirts for the nth time, kiss ridden thighs quivering as he begs so, so sweetly for you.
When you finally cum in him, he wails as he creams around your cock, weakly fucking himself back on you, pupils dilating as he weakly falls on the bed, ass in the air as your seed spills from his puffy cunt, overflowing as you coo softly, in that mocking, sugar coated voice as you line your shaft with his entrance again. The sheets were already soiled with the poor man's cum and sweat, as he screams in overstimulation, babbling about how he couldn't take anymore. Nonsense. He's swallowing your cock so greedily, your not falling for that.
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time-woods · 1 year
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these are the works of a mad man- these 2 literally make me feel insane evrytime i draw them- anyways i am now going to share my autism analysis of the 2 of them 
I feel the need to shout this from the rooftops but- Kim is most definitely a low empathy autistic with high emotional understanding/awareness !! Like- he doesn’t pick up on cues but he still can figure out emotional tones of certain situations!!(has a bit of a hard time expressing tone/ emotion through actions and expressions so he typically uses his words instead) And he has no internal dialog!! Along with not being able to picture things in his mind!! (aphantasia) (that part is pretty much cannon he practically says it))  always needs to be doing something with his hands- can’t just have them by his side,(too open, too vulnerable- yes this is the fight or flight in me speaking) is either holding his hands in front of himself or behind his back, or writing in his notebook, along with checking the time on his watch or fiddling with it. Looks down when walking most of the time (esp on a scene) but it’s just become a general habit- forgets he has to make eye contact- typically more invested in writing down whatever he’s realized in his notes to care (he is so me)
 And Harry is the opposite in that department- (how I play his character at least) high empathy autistic- good intentions but can read the mood wrong at times! Very outwardly expressive- Gots a whole narrator in his head I also think he’s got a pretty good imagination. This mf can’t stand still to safe his life on god he’s got to b moving every 5 seconds in order to not catch on fire. also most likely has maladaptive daydreaming? a bit upsetting but god does it work well for his whole character. Mf is constantly stretching- probably has extremely tensed muscles, shoulders n stuff (th stress). This bich would and probably has apologized or cursed out a chair for accidentally bumping into it. Eye contact is a no go- mostly cause he’s looking around the room already moving on to the next thing or just straight up more interested abt the thing behind you to care about maintaining eye contact
(I heart viewing characters through an autistic lens and either projecting or scrutinizing every single one of their mannerisms)
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