#the way they take care of each other has me weeping

[bandgie]

Would you maybe be interested in this?

https://www.tumblr.com/thefantasydenthoughts/745174509121929216/sending-one-more-i-hope-im-not-annoying-i-feel?source=share

a/n: (link) I am yes BUT you know I have to add my own twist

Synopsis: You never expected to run into three terrifyingly handsome men the night you ran away on your wedding, but you didn't expect them to be so inviting either.

warnings: MDNI 18+, fem!reader, 4some, jerking off, multiple orgasms (f!), light pussy play, PIV, cumming inside, no protection, lots of boob play, overstim (f!), GUN INVOLVEMENT (not nsfw), kidnapping?? (kinda), prolly missed more lmao

4.3k words

"Don't scream," you hear a deep voice whisper in your ear before your mouth is covered. "Unless you want metal in your head."

Your small whimpers muffle in his hand, but you nod. The man with chubby cheeks gives you a sympathetic look and frowns at the one holding a gun to your head. "Do you have to say that? You're gonna make her cry."

"Jisung," a cat-like man says his name sternly. "We don't have time for this, let's go."

Jisung grumbles while they lead you to an alleyway away from the main street. The tall man behind you keeps the gun to your head, guiding you to follow them. There are hardly any lights this deep into an alley, but the moon provides enough to help you spot a parked car.

They're taking you back. The thought of your arranged marriage makes you cry, weeping in the hands of your kidnappers. Tears seep through the man's fingers and you taste the saltiness on your lips. Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, but the hand on your mouth prevents you from properly inhaling.

You shake your head back and forth, trying to escape from his grip. "No," you sob. "I don't wanna go back. Don't send me back. Please."

The man with the cat eyes unlocks the car and opens the backseat door. "Damn Hyunjin. What'd you tell her?"

"I didn't say shit!" Hyunjin has to bump you toward the car as you try to escape. "She just started crying. Are you sure we have the right girl?"

It takes Hyunjin and Jisung to put you in the car. To ensure your captivity, each of them sits beside you, thigh to thigh. The other one sits in the front, roaring the car engine to life. "All I was told was that she had white heels. That's it."

You're still crying, hiccuping as Hyunjin keeps the gun pointed steadily at you. Jisung takes a comforting approach, opting to hold your shaky hands and smooth over your skin. "Nothing is gonna happen, okay?" He smiles wearily at you. "Just a few questions. That's all."

No way that's all. If your fiancé sent them, they'll do more than just ask questions. "D-don't lie to me," you say through your tears. "You're gonna send me back to h-him and make me m-marry him and you'll kill me if I don't." You expect them to keep feeding you lies in an attempt to calm you, but Jisung's expression is utterly confused.

"Marry? Marry who?" It's the driver who asks. He hasn't put the car into gear yet as he turns to look at you. His face is more terrifying when he's pissed. "Who are you?"

Shouldn't you be asking them that?

But you tell them. You tell them how you were set up for an arranged marriage with a man whose name you don't even know. You tell them that tonight is the night you ran away from your wedding. You're sure he's sent people to find you, and since Hyunjin had that god-forsaken gun, you thought they were the ones.

"Holy shit," Jisung swears when you finish your story. "Chan is gonna kill us."

You're not sure who Chan is, but you're not eager to find out. "Don't tell him! I promise I won't say anything. I swear. I'll pretend like nothing happened and...and I'll give you anything you want! I have money! I don't care how much you ask for, just don't hurt me." Your bottom lip trembles.

Han shares a look with Hyunjin who looks at the man in the front for directions.

"Listen," the driver speaks softly. "We aren't gonna hurt you. We weren't even thinking of it. We were supposed to question a different girl but someone got it wrong." He shoots a look at Jisung. "But I promise, pretty, nothing's gonna happen to you, okay?"

He sounds sincere, and whether he means it or not, it makes you feel just a little better. You nod and wipe the tears sliding down your face, trying to control your breathing. Hyunjin seems to have long abandoned the gun and Jisung’s hand moved to your knee. Suddenly, it’s not too scary having them pushed against you.

"See?" Jisung gives you a sweet smile. "You're gonna be okay. Minho looks all mean, but he's not too bad."

Minho grunts.

"Okay, maybe he is a little bad, but he's not all bad." Jisung gives a reassuring squeeze.

You nod, trying to smile but the need for air is more important. You're still in your wedding dress with a huge coat over it. With the two men sitting hip-to-hip with you, it's starting to feel hot and uncomfortable. You try fanning yourself with your hand, but it's not enough. Deciding it’s better to remove your coat, you slowly shrug the material off. It slides down your shoulders to reveal the dress you tried so hard to conceal. 

It's beautiful, much to your dismay. A corset wrapped tightly at your waist so your breasts overfill at the top. It's loose on the bottom, with a slit starting at your upper thigh to expose your leg. It makes you look accentuated, yes, but it's a reminder that you were a pawn. You wish you could remove it entirely.

"Oh wow," Jisung can't help his shock. His eyes lock at your chest before traveling up to your neck. "You look...you look...I mean you were getting married, I know, but-"

"You look beautiful," Hyunjin saves Jisung from embarrassment. You discard the coat on the floor of the car before looking at Hyunjin. Maybe it's because he's no longer threatening you, but he looks charming under the car lights. His eyes remind you of how the crescent moon looks high in the sky. Though his lips seem to demand your attention from his smile, you can’t help but be drawn to the shining metal on his eyebrow. 

"I uhh...thanks," you aren't sure which enchanting features to look at. “You look…good too.”

"Thank you," he giggles. "So is this what you were gonna wear for a man you've never even met?" Hyunjin gestures at your dress. Your smile falters and you nod. "What a waste," he places his large hand on your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Such a pretty thing like you deserves so much more. Don't you think, Ji?"

"So much more," Jisung scoots closer to you. His hand goes to your knee while leaning into your neck. "So pretty." His breath is warm on your skin. His body heat feels like an inviting blanket you want to wrap yourself in. Though you haven’t spoken to Jisung much, he seems to be the ‘nicest’. He was the only one who made an effort to calm you down, even if it didn’t help much at the time. 

You can tell Jisung wants to touch you more. He's practically vibrating with need, but he holds back. The only sign he gives you is the hand on your leg. It never travels up, but his fingers make small circles on your skin. His hesitation only works you up more. Feeling his hand on your knee is only a hint at what you might endure tonight. You're surprised to see how much you want to feel all of them touching you.

Still, you have the mind to remember how scared you were moments ago. “I don't- I don't think-" You're cut off by Hyunjin tracing his thumb on your mouth. He taps your bottom lip, pulling it down to reveal your lower teeth.

"Don't think, angel," he sounds like a dream. "You're safe with us, that's all that matters."

Safe? That you aren't too sure of, but you don't try to stop Hyunjin when he leans in. His hand is steady on your cheek while his lips meet yours. The kiss is soft, a gentle mingling to let you know he wouldn't do anything you're not ready for. You tilt your head up to get more of his taste. A specific flavor of coolness meets your mouth, he must wear chapstick.

Mint, you think.

The kiss deepens and his tongue swipes against your lip. You debate on it, unsure if you're really wanting to fuck the same guys who scared the shit out of you minutes ago. But everything just feels so good. Hyunjin's mouth and Han's inching hand. You're already on the run from your finance, what's the harm in fucking up more?

You part your lips, inviting Hyunjin's tongue. He inhales and grunts at the wetness of yours. They slide together and mix, twisting into an open-mouthed kiss crudely.

Hyunjin properly reattaches his mouth to suck on your bottom lip, pulling the skin in a way that makes you whine. Jisung takes the opportunity to slide his hand up the slit, finding home at your inner thigh. You feel his mouth attach to the exposed part of your neck. His tongue is hot on your skin, licking and sucking until your throat turns a bright shade of pink.

"Are you guys seriously gonna fuck in my car?"

Oh. Right, there's another person here. Hyunjin slowly pulls away from you. The lack of kissing has you chasing his lips, blindly following the sensation.

Han whines in the crook of your neck, sparing a look at Minho who looks both irritated and aroused.

"But Minhooo..." Jisung pouts. "She's so pretty."

"So pretty," Hyunjin parrots.

"And we weren't very nice to her at first. This is us making it up! This is the least we owe her, don't you think?" Jisung must have Minho under some type of spell because his features soften. There's a brief moment of silence that's nearly deafening. The attention shifts from Minho to you, and you can hardly stand the tension.

"I...I want to."

"Oh, you do?" Minho doesn't sound too friendly. "Alright then. Go ahead." He twists his body so it's fully facing you and the other men. You hear Hyunjin groan and Jisung giggle. They waste no time in getting back to their original position, though Jisung seems eager to spread your legs wide this time.

The feeling of two hot mouths lands on both sides of your neck. You gasp, fists gripping their pants.

You lock eyes with Minho to see a smirk on his lips. "You're...you're just gonna watch?"

Minho's smile widens, "Why? Is two not enough for you?"

Hyunjin laughs against your skin while you blush. "That's not what I meant," you whimper when Jisung bites down on your flesh. "I just...I don't want you to-"

"He's a big boy, angel," Hyunjin picks up his head from your neck. "If he wants to watch, he can watch you cum on my dick, okay?" You turn redder, hand coming up to cover your bashful expression.

It's a good thing you've got something covering your mouth because Jisung has managed to infiltrate your underwear amidst the conversation. He massages your cunt through the material in slow circles. You hum and widen your legs while Hyunjin helps to hike the dress up to your waist.

"No, she’s gonna cum on me first!” Jisung pouts. “I wanna be the first one.” To drive his point home, Jisung moves your underwear to the side. He spreads your lips to show the arousal collecting somewhat proudly. “I did this! It’s not fair that Hyunjin calls the shots when I’m the one who got her wet! And I was the only one nice to her!”

Ah, that’s true. Even if Han’s throwing a bit of a tantrum, you can’t help but find it somewhat cute. The points he makes are valid, and if he wasn’t as welcoming as he was in the beginning, you would probably be doing something very different than what you are now. 

Though Han’s directing his whining at the others, you nod. “I…I don’t mind if Jisung goes first.” Your words quiet the car before Jisung looks at you with an endearing smile. “Really?!” He claps when you nod. 

“See!” He looks at Hyunjin. “You don’t get to get everything just ‘cause you’re handsome.”

You giggle as Jisung grabs you by the waist to hover you a few inches off the seat. He slides underneath your ass and wiggles his pants down, using a hand to free his cock. Hyunjin still keeps the dress at your waist so you’re able to see Jisung spring-free when you look down. 

It’s a lot thicker than you thought. It flushes a deep color while the head of his cock is even darker. A few small veins trail along his length, but one along the sides has you already lowering yourself down in anticipation. 

“Whatever. You’re just opening her up for me,” Hyunjin grumbles. 

His words are lost to you and Jisung as he taps his tip on the front of your pussy. Jisung swivels his hips so he’s able to smear his pre-cum over your cunt. You match his movements, grinding back and forth so your clit can catch his flared tip. It’s hard to steady yourself while wearing heels, so you find leverage by hanging onto the headrests of the front seats where Minho sits. 

“Can’t forget about these,” Minho hums to himself as he reaches for your corset. He loosens the top part of your dress before spilling your breasts out, cupping and groping them. He flicks your nipples in an attempt to get them to harden. With his thumb and forefinger, he pinches the buds until you squeal. 

Hyunjin can’t contain himself anymore. He watches as Jisung gets to rub his dick all over your pretty cunt and as Minho plays with your tits. Finding a solution, Hyunjin bunches the material of your dress in one hand behind your back so a newly free hand can finally touch you somewhere. And that somewhere is your cunt. 

“Don’t you want Jisung in your pussy already? Hm?” You feel Hyunjin slide his long fingers to Han’s cock so he can push it up. The tip slightly breaches your entrance, but there’s not enough force for it to go in all the way. Still, you can feel the warmth of it, of all of them. Minho’s soft yet ruthless hands twisting your nipples until they blossom with pink; Han’s hot dick sliding across your pussy; and Hyunjin’s warm fingers guiding the cock where it should go.

You nod, though you aren’t sure if he can tell. 

Hyunjin grabs the base of Han’s cock and angles it to your cunt. “So wet already, it should slide in real good.” He tugs the back of your dress as a sign to lower yourself. Hyunjin is careful to make sure Han’s cock stays perfectly aligned with your hole despite how much he’s moving. Your lower lips spread as the head of his cock breaches your entrance, a whine leaving you. Inch by inch, you take Han’s length inside of you, thighs burning as you slowly make your descent.

Minho’s hands travel from your chest to your shoulders, helping you fully settle on Han’s cock. “Shit, look at that,” he laughs breathlessly. “Pussy opens so good for him.” You whine at Minho’s praise, finding the motivation to finally sink fully into his cock with a moan.

“Gotta fuck you,” Jisung whimpers from behind. His hands find the curve of your hips before he thrusts upwards. You squeal at his intrusion, thighs shaking. “J-Jisung! Can’t- I can’t- Just wait let me-” But he doesn’t wait and a bigger part of you is glad. You can feel his thighs slapping against the bottom of yours, how he’s whining just behind your ear with soft apologies. 

“So, so good. Pussy so good to me, baby. I- fuck- ‘m sorry. I’ll be slower next time, mkay? I promise.” Jisung opts to wrap his arms around your middle torso to properly fuck up into you. Your tits bounce at his harsh thrusts and Minho doesn’t hesitate to get back to work on them. He takes hold of your nipples and pulls, watching your back arch forward. The whimper that leaves your mouth is heavenly, and Hyunjin can’t help but grow restless. 

The taller man moves his hand to rub on your clit, moving the flesh in wide circles. Your jaw drops and you tilt your head to look at Hyunjin, eyes glazed with tears and arousal from the overstimulation. He gives you a dazzling smile, “You should see how you look, angel. Gettin’ all worked up over one dick. It’s so cute.”

Your styled hair must be a mess from the way Jisung keeps pounding into you. Your dress is wrinkled and damn near disheveled at the top because of Minho’s persistent groping. And you’re sure the expensive makeup can only last so long. So to hear Hyunin call you cute seems like it should be impossible, but the look on his face screams authenticity. You mean to thank him, to say anything that could describe how grateful you are for all of them making your night, but the moment you open your mouth, it’s moans and cries that sound instead. 

“Fuck! Her pussy,” Jisung groans. “Gonna make me cum. I can cum in you, right? Can I?” The desperation in his voice makes you want to agree, but it’s Minho who answers him. “You get to fuck her first and cum in her? That hardly sounds fair.” Even though you can see the smirk on Minho’s lips, Jisung cries out as if he’s been wounded. His embrace around you tightens and his thrusts grow sloppy. Despite that, your cunt hugs his cock eagerly, begging for his cum. The walls of your pussy feel stretched and used, but you can feel your womb aching to be filled.

“Want it…” you moan. “All of it. I want all of it.” 

It’s as if you’re Jisung’s savior. He can’t help but laugh, looking at his hyungs with triumph. “Heard that? You heard that, right?” He kisses the exposed part of your neck tenderly. “Thank you, baby, thank you. Imma fill you up nice and full. Gonna be leaking with my cum for weeks.”

“Gross,” you hear Hyunjin grimace. There’s not a chance to glance at him before Jisung bucks up into you with fervor. You gasp, leaning forward towards Minho so Jisung can have full access to your pussy. It’s wet, it’s lewd, and Hyunjin only makes the sounds louder as his fingers flick back and forth against your nub. 

You’re reminded of how tired your legs are in this position, but that thought is distracted by a warm mouth enveloping your breast. You look down to see Minho peering up at you through his lashes, your nipple between his teeth. He gently bites before sucking it back into his mouth, letting his tongue graze the bud repeatedly. He hallows his mouth to make a powerful suction and leans his head back, taking your tit with him.

It’s no shock when you cum, but it is sudden. You’re not sure which action made you finally tip over, but Jisung can feel the gushing of your cunt and the squeezing of your walls on his cock. Hyunjin can feel how much wetter your clit has gotten, how it twitches in his hold. Minho only giggles when your entire body vibrates, tits jiggling in his mouth. 

Han whines, “Is she cumming? I can feel her pussy creaming all over my cock. Shit, feels so good baby. Gonna make me cum.”

“Mhm,” Hyunjin looks at your wrecked state that barely manages to keep you upright. “She’s cumming all right. Don’t think she can take much more, Ji. Hurry up or she’ll pass out on my turn.”

The thought of having Hyunjin fuck you makes you clench on Jisung’s cock. It seems like he appreciates this, moaning before spilling hot cum into your pussy. It floods your cunt in streaks, finding a place deep in your womb. Your knuckles turn white from the grip you have on the headrests, teeth digging into your lower lip just to keep yourself from being too loud. Jisung groans and rests his forehead on your back, giving you tired thrusts to ride out his high. 

“God- fuck! You put a spell on this pussy or something? Squeezing me so tight like it doesn’t wanna let me go.” Jisung struggles to pull himself out of you. He adjusts his hands back to your hips so he can lift you, slowly dragging his cock against your walls. You moan at the feeling of him sliding out. It’s cautious and slow, a good alternative from how roughly he was fucking you. The two of you let out a loud whine when he’s fully out.

“About time,” Hyunjin pushes Jisung out of the way. Jisung frowns, “Hey! That’s not very nice.”

Hyunjin laughs, shaking his head as he adjusts himself to how Jisung was. “Shut up. Just hold her dress up.” With grumbles, the younger man listens and bunches your wedding dress in his fists. Hyunjin slides the tip of the cock on your pussy, sending overstimulating shocks throughout your body. 

“Make it fast,” Minho directs his attention to Hyunjin. “We’ve overstayed.” Hyunjin nods, but not without a few mumbles under his breath before sinking himself inside of you.

You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it wasn’t this. Han’s cock wasn’t the longest, but it hardly lacked the thickness to stretch you out. With Han, it felt like you were being lolled around, but with Hyunjin, you can’t help but still. His cock goes deep, a never-ending feeling of being probed. You throw your head back, uncaring for how loud your moan is. Hyunjin shivers under you, hands shaky as he quickly finds a pace to fuck into you.

Minho has a front-seat view. It’s an understatement to say he’s amazed at how well you’re taking Hyunjin. Your cunt flutters open perfectly for him, clit swollen from being rubbed. Minho watches the inches upon inches being slammed into you before being pulled out. You can’t blame him when you see him sneak a hand to undo his jeans before pulling his cock out. 

“Shit! Can’t believe you got to fuck this pussy first,” Hyunjn moans out to Jisung. “Still so tight.”

Jisung is wiggling in his seat despite already cumming, Like Minho, he’s slowly stroking his soft cock at the sight. “Mhm. Tight little pussy. He’s fucking you real good, huh?” He doesn’t expect you to answer, you’re too busy trying not to scream at the bruising pace Hyunjin’s set. If you thought Jisung was rough, then Hyunjin is brutal.

“T-too much!” You yelp when Hyunjin finds a certain spot in your cunt. He feels your walls clench so violently that Jisung’s cum leaks onto his cock. “N-not there,” you whimper. “Can’t take it.”

“But it feels so good there,” Hyunjin retaliates. For once, his hips slow to purposely drag his cock across that spot. You squirm and hiccup in his hold, squealing at how overwhelmingly blissful it feels. Jisung wipes the corner of your mouth, collecting the drool that’s begun to seep through your lips before popping it in his mouth to suck.

Hyunjin drives his cock deep inside, “You feel that?” He pulls a few inches out and grinds in again. “That’s where I’mma put all my cum. Right in here.” You shiver at his words, nodding mindlessly. He smiles at your pliant state though you can’t see. “Good girl.”

“And you called me gross,” Jisung rolls his eyes, thumb still in his mouth as he watches Hyunjin desperately get himself to cum inside you. His words are hardly noticed though amongst the sound of skin and moans. All you can focus on is how close Hyunjin can bring you in such a short amount of time. He’s focused on fucking you right and you can feel how hot his body is. He brings you back down on his cock with such vigor that your entire body jiggles at the force. Minho’s eyes switch between your cunt swallowing Hyunjin’s cock to your breasts. You wish you could reach over and replace his hand with your own, but Hyunjin has a strong hold on your body for his own use.

His cock twitches in your pussy and he groans. Hyunjin’s hips have started to falter, but you’re hardly upset about it. Your cunt feels beyond abused, leaking with Jisung’s cum every time Hyunjin fucks into you. The familiar feeling of euphoria builds in your stomach and you feel it grow with every powerful thrust. You’re so caught up in the sensation of your approaching orgasm that you almost miss Hyunjin announcing his own high.

“Oh, angel. I’mma cum in you. You want my cum, yeah? Say it. Fuck. Say how much you want it.”

Hyunjin expecting you to talk despite pounding himself into you is comical, but you manage to squeak out small words. “So bad. I need it, Hyunnie. I- I wanna feel it inside me, please.” Your babbling is more than enough for Hyunjin to unload. He shivers and stills his hips flush against your ass, letting his cock pump you full of cum. 

You can feel his tip pressing against your cervix. His cock is rubbing against your gummy spot so perfectly that you cum seconds after him. Hyunjun moans at the feel of your walls clamping down on him. 

When he slips out of you, your thighs fold until you collapse on his lap wetly. Your legs tremble both from exertion and the pleasure coursing through your body. You rest your head on the middle console, wrapping your arms around your torso in an attempt to stop yourself from shaking. Hyunjin soothingly runs his hands up and down your back, cooing at how well you did with Jisung chiming in with compliments.

It takes you a moment to recognize the wet sound of Minho stroking himself. You tiredly pick your head up just in time with his orgasm. Minho’s cum shoots so far that a few strings of cum land on your face. You blink and flinch at the warm substance, automatically using your tongue to swipe off the gooey liquid. 

“Oops,” you can see Minho trying his best not to laugh. “Uhh…let’s take you to Chan’s now.”

#smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #stray kids #skz #skz hyunjin #skz hard hours #skz hard thoughts #skz jisung #skz han #skz lee know #skz minho #minho skz #minho smut #hyunjin smut #han smut #Jisung smut #poly skz #hyunjin hwang #han jisung #skz lee minho #minho stray kids

[l0velysmut]

miguel o’hara x fem!reader

contains: short smut, jealous miguel, dom!miguel, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, brief breeding kink.

wc: 1.3k unedited

Once again, Miguel has caught you in the middle of a conversation with a random Peter Parker. One that Miguel’s told you multiple times to stay away from because the man looks at you as if he’s undressing you with his eyes.

Of course, that’s not really the case, but Miguel gets in his own head and over thinks whenever he sees you talking to another man. He believes that since he’s a man, he knows how other men think.

But you’ve reminded him over and over again that no man or woman could compare to him. Nobody could make you feel as loved as he does, or make you feel as much pleasure as he does, so there’s no need for him to be jealous, but he constantly feels the need to remind you.

So that’s how you got in the position you’re currently in.

You’re bent over Miguel’s desk in his dimly lit office, legs shaking as he pistons his girthy cock in and out of your weeping hole. His legs are in between yours, keeping your shorter legs spread for him.

Your suit had been ripped to shreds for the millionth time this month, so Miguel had a clear view of his cock sliding in and out of you with ease due to how wet he made you.

Your juices are dripping down your inner thighs, and you can’t help but moan every time the tip of his cock kisses your cervix each time he thrusts into you roughly.

“You wanna act like a little slut, then I’ll treat you like one.” He says in a gruff voice, putting his hand on your head, pushing your cheek into his desk.

“Miguel!” You call out his name weakly, attempting to push at his abs which were covered by his suit since the only part of him that wasn’t covered by the impressive technology was his cock.

He groans when your walls clamp around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. He licks his lips and looks down at where you two connect, then his eyes trail up a little to your other hole which was clenching around the air.

He brings the hand that wasn’t holding your head down to your ass, squeezing the flesh in his large palm before giving it a light smack. His thumb then shifts to your butt hole, and he presses his thumb against it, making you moan loudly and shiver beneath him.

“Shit,” He mumbles. “It’s like you want everyone to hear us, dirty girl.”

He pushes his thumb in a little bit, and you try to squirm away from him. When he notices, he takes both of his hands and grabs your hips, pulling you closer to him and sinking his cock deeper inside of you — if that was even possible.

“Where you going, mami? Huh?” He growls, fucking you harder and rougher.

The grip he has on your hips would for sure leave bruises, but you didn’t have a care in the world because the way he was fucking you was turning you into a blathering mess.

You could feel your orgasm coming, and you tried to alert Miguel, but the second you opened your mouth, only a string of moans left it.

Your brain felt like complete mush, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t like when Miguel got jealous.

“F-Fuck! Miguel!” You practically scream, not caring who could hear you two.

He stares you down as he grinds his hips into yours. You clench around him, causing a beautiful moan to leave his plump lips.

“You gonna cum, baby? Gonna make a mess on my cock?” He teases, one hand going up to your head to tangle his fingers into your hair. “Go ahead, pretty girl, cum for me.”

You whine and reach your hand behind you to try and stop him from fucking you as rough as he is, but he just takes both of your hands and pins them above your head, his upper body hovering over you.

He presses kisses to the side of your head, moaning and groaning into your ear.

With a few chants of his name, you finally felt blood thundering to your brain as euphoria crashes over you at a high intensity. You swear that you went deaf for a moment because for a few seconds, all you could hear was your heart pounding in your ears as white hot pleasure took over you.

“Ffffuck, yeah.” He groans as you cum around him, walls fluttering and spasming around his imposing girth. A smirk spreads across his face when he sees your entire body shaking which was caused by his pace which never faltered. You thought he would slow down, but no. He just continued to fuck you as if you didn’t need any time to recover from the fierce orgasm you just had.

“This is my pussy, do you hear me?” He shouts, and then chuckles when he sees your fucked out expression. “Course you can’t. Poor baby can’t hear a single thing.”

He lifts himself slightly, his hands releasing yours and placing his hands on either side of your head. He could feel his own climax boiling inside of him as he continues to fuck you at a brutal speed.

He grits his teeth, and a groan bubbles in his throat when his cock twitches repeatedly inside of you. His balls tighten, giving you a few more thrusts before he stops, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he empties his load inside of you, painting your walls with his thick cum.

He stays still for a moment, breathing so heavily that he’s practically panting. He remains deep inside of you, making sure all of his cum was pumped into you.

You lay there with your limbs shaking beneath him, trying to take deep breaths to calm your aching body down.

With a sigh, he pulls out of you slowly which makes you whimper at the empty feeling.

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you, right?” He asks, turning your body onto your back so you could look at him.

You shake your head, and open your arms, telling him that you wanted him in them.

“You were perfect,” You say to him with a small, tired smile. “Made me feel so good.”

He puts his head in the crook of your neck, and inhales your scent deeply, his eyes briefly turning their occasional shade of ruby red.

“Only I can make you feel this good, right? I’m the only one who can make your entire fucking body shake,” He softly rubs his large hand up and down your bare stomach. “I’m the only one that can fill you to the brim.”

“The only one.” You whisper, and wrap your arms around his neck.

You two stay like that for a moment before Lyla decides it’s time to stop minding her business and remind Miguel that you needed proper aftercare.

He grumbles and lifts off of you, taking Lyla’s word and going to get you some water, something to eat, and something new to wear.

As he walks down the halls of the Spider HQ, he doesn’t miss the way people either smirk at him or give him a horrified look. And his chest fills with pride when he makes eye contact with a certain Peter Parker who looked particularly scared and immediately looked away from Miguel’s menacing glare.

When Miguel reaches the cafeteria, Jess suddenly pops up next to him with a smirk and a knowing look.

“Sounds like someone had fun. Y’know, if you two don’t stop, Y/N might end up like me.” Jess says, a hand on her baby bump.

He glances down at her baby bump, and an eyebrow quirks. Then, an image of you with a baby bump forms in his brain, and he could feel his cock hardening once again.

He says nothing to her; just grabs some water and food and treads back down to his office, his mind buzzing with an overwhelming want to breed.

The second he came back, you could see something different in his eyes, and you noticed that his mood had shifted almost drastically.

“What’s wrong, Miggy?” You ask, placing a hand on his bicep.

“How would you feel about having a few kids?”

a/n: idk how i feel ab this so lmk if y’all like it

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #miguel 2099 #l0velysmut

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

Ehem* Ehem* carefully slides over a pack of oreos “more cow reader content please:>”

Hmmm more cow reader au?? What else could i write about? Cow reader x multiple bulls? 👀

CW: cow hybrid reader, fem reader (reader has breasts and vagina, referred to as a "girl"), multiple partners, smut, dubcon, orgy (F/M/M/M/M), breeding kink

───────────────

Imagine your farm hands' surprise when they find out that your owners purchased several bull hybrids.

It was a spur of the moment decision: there was a nearby farm that was shutting down and about four bull hybrids had nowhere to go. Your owners, being the sweet people they were, decided to give them a home. They already had a cow hybrid—i.e. you—so taking care of bull hybrids shouldn't be that different, right?

It was a big adjustment having four bulls added to your barn. They were all so similar and yet so different, and you found your brain fuzzy when you tried to keep track of all of them. They were big and noisy and were already friends with each other, making you feel left out. You often found yourself alone in your pen or out in the field, the four bulls hanging out at the opposite end. Of course, one or two were polite enough to invite you over, but you never stayed long, feeling unwelcome in their tight knit group.

Yes, it would seem that your new roommates just weren't interested in you. You supposed that was fine, you still had your farmhands who gave you plenty of attention, you didn't need to be friends with those bulls.

But then your heat came around, and things quickly changed.

Your heat started in the middle of the day. You were alone in the barn when you felt a tingling sensation run down your spine, your cunt twitching to life, weeping slick down your thighs. You whined for your farmhands, begging them to come take care of you. You couldn't help but present yourself in the empty barn, so hot and sticky, your pussy aching to be filled.

"Y/N?"

You froze, slowly glancing over your shoulder, eyes meeting one of the bulls. He must have come back from the pasture early today; maybe he forgot something. It didn't matter really: you could already tell where this was going to go.

The bull sniffed the air, his tail twitching, eyes crossing oh so slightly.

"Yer—shit, are ya in heat?"

You whined, trying not to wave your hips back and forth, forcing yourself to stay still. Despite your efforts to not tempt him, the bull was already seduced by your scent, making his way into the barn, his cock beginning to stand at attention.

"Ya need help? Huh? Need to be filled up?"

You hiccuped, biting your lip, pushing down a moan when he kneeled behind you and grabbed your hips.

"I-I'm fine! The farm boys will help me; you don't have to—"

"The farm boys?" He clicked his tongue. "Nah, they won't be able to help ya, sweetcheeks. They can't give ya what ya need. But me—" he began running the head of his cock through your folds, "—I can give it to ya real good."

"W-Wait, I—"

"Shhhh, just relax, pretty baby. Lemme fill ya up nice and good."

And fill you up he did. He pushed his cock in steadily, his thick girth splitting you open, reaching every inch of your gummy walls. You cried out, hands curling in the hay beneath you, back arching. His hips met yours, his cock bumping up against your cervix, leaving you dizzy.

"See? What'd I tell ya? Ya don't need no farm boys—ya got a real bull right here."

With that, he pulled out, slamming back into you. You gasped, bracing yourself for his harsh thrusts, scrambling for purchase on the dirt floor. His thrusts were hard, rough, his balls making pap pap pap noises as they slapped against your soaking cunt. You could feel a fire burning in your belly, toes curling as you felt it rise higher and higher, eyes rolling back as you tumbled over the edge. You came with a wail, cunt spasming around the bull's heavy cock, his hips not stopping as you creamed around his dick.

"What's goin on—"

The bull's voice died out as he saw the two of you before him, his friend's cock stuffed deep inside your pretty little cunt. He watched in amazement as his friend leaned over you, thrusting even faster than before, making you cry out with each slam of his hips against yours. The bull approached the two of you, staring as his friend finished off, pushing his hips flush to yours and cumming inside, filling your womb with his seed, his cum overflowing around the sides.

"Woah," he whispered in awe. "That's a lotta cum."

"Sure is," the first bull exclaimed, pulling out and watching his cum leak out of you. "This'll definitely get her pregnant."

The second bull scoffed, pulling on his friend's shoulder, kneeling behind you. He manhandled you until your hips were presented to him, his now-hard cock rubbing up against your folds.

"Betcha my cum will get 'er pregnant first."

"Yeah right! My sperm is way stronger!"

The second bull pushed into you, filling you up, pushing out the cum from the first bull. Loud squelching filled the room as he began thrusting into you, his hands digging into your plush hips, bound to leave marks behind. You moaned weakly, letting him have his way with you, barely registering that he and the first bull were still arguing over who would get you pregnant.

"What's goin on in here?"

You raised your head as best as you could, making out the silhouette of the other two bulls walking into the barn.

"We're just makin a bet on who can get Y/N pregnant first."

"And I'm gonna win in just a bit."

"Shut up—"

"Psshhh, yall think you can get her pregnant? I'd bet a whole barrel of apples that I can get her pregnant before all of yall."

"Oh, buddy, I'd have a way better chance than you."

The four bulls began arguing above you, the bull inside you still stirring up your insides, soon making you cum on his cock.

"Oh shit, she's tight—"

The second bull came inside you, but you weren't given time to breathe before another bull pulled you towards him and mounted you.

That's how it went the rest of the night: the four large bulls in a circle, passing you around and fucking you until they came inside, fucking the other bulls' cum out of you. They continued making bets, upping the stakes, arguing over who would be strong enough to get you pregnant. By the time your farmhands come by to check on you, you're collapsed on the floor, a gallon of cum spilled down your thighs.

You thought that would be the end of it, that the bulls would lose interest in you and go back to focusing on themselves, but they surprised you. After they fucked you senseless, they started doting on you, following you wherever you went, questioning you about your likes and interests. You thought they were just being polite, being friendly after they fucked you so much, but one day you heard them arguing in the barn.

"No, I'm gonna be her mate."

"No way, I came in her first."

"I came in her the most."

"As if."

"Alright, alright, that's enough. What if we just shared her? Ya know, took turns and stuff?"

"What the fuck?"

"No way in hell."

"Well... maybe it wouldn't be too bad. At least then we'd get to have her and nobody's feelings would get hurt."

"Yeah, and just imagine it: we could take turns looking out for her and we wouldn't get tired out."

"Plus, we know she takes us all like a champ."

"Yer right, I've never seen a heifer take four bulls before."

You tried to lean closer to hear better, but you ended up knocking over a spading fork in the process. It fell with a loud clang, making the bull's jump and turn rapidly.

"Y/N?"

"What're ya doin, baby?"

"I-I'm sorry!" you stuttered. "I'm sorry for eavesdropping, I just—"

"Awww, you were eavesdropping?? Naughty girl."

The other bulls caught on, smirking as they all began to approach you.

"Y/N, Y/N, shame on you for listening in on us."

"Naughty thing."

"We oughta teach you a lesson, huh?"

"Yeah, gotta teach this bad girl some manners."

You were surrounded with nowhere to go, the four bulls towering over you, their cocks growing with each passing second. And before you could try to defend yourself for listening to their conversation, they were already coaxing you onto your hands and knees, arguing over who got to fuck you first.

Safe to say, you're gonna have to get used to your new farm mates.

───────────────

#ask #smut #☀️ asks #fem reader #cow hybrid reader #cow hybrid au #tw breeding kink #tw dubcon

[bloodlust-1]

A baby is on the way!

Tav is expecting a little one! This is how I’d imagine the companions to react during the pregnancy and birth

Reactions/head-canons!

Featuring:

Astarion

Gale

Halsin

Astarion

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

- “What? Is this some kind of joke cause it’s not funny, Tav! You can’t really be pregnant�� I mean happy things don’t happen to me. Right..?”

Reality will kick in, he won’t admit he’s excited at first, but she can see the happiness in his eyes.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

- “My little sweet with her tummy all grown. I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight, if I say so myself.”

While she naps he loves talk to her stomach, saying random names until something sticks. He loves gender-neutral names.

Preparing for the baby:

-“How in the hells do you put this together!?” He fights against the bassinet. “Gods, please give me the patience to see this through.”

-“You know, our baby is going to be the cutest face to ever grace faerun! With parents that look like us, hah!”

He visits healers with her often, and even secretly confides in Gale for pregnancy books to learn more about a half-vampire baby.

The baby is coming:

-“Deep breaths my love.”

-“You’re doing so well, our baby is almost here.”

Astarion makes sure to bring all of his baby care he prepared. He never leaves her side, holds her hand, and occasionally yells at the healers to help her with the pain from the contractions.

The baby is born: It’s a girl!

- “She has your eyes. Thank you, for giving me something I can fall in love with all over again. I love you.”

He weeps in happiness and relief as the baby takes its first cry, he is the first to hold her.

He doesn’t allow anyone to see the baby until Tav gains her energy back. He stares at the baby and points out what features are his and what is Tav’s.

Gale

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

-“I-I…This is fantastic news! I’m going to be a father! We must celebrate at once.”

The first week of telling Gale he went to buy the most beautiful embroidered baby blanket, and occasionally showed up to the house with random baby items.

Already planning the baby shower.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

-“You have a glow to you, I’m happy you both are both healthy, my love. Let me cook you something for dinner.”

Gale loves to hug her belly from behind when they are in bed. He traces little hearts on her stomach.

Preparing for the baby:

- “Darling, I visited the library and look what I found!” He dumps a pile of books on the table. Its books about parenting, pregnancy, and babies-101. “Now we’ll be ready for any obstacle. I hope.”

They discus a birthing plan with each other. Gale really wants her to deliver the baby in Waterdeep, his home town where his family could visit them.

Gale won’t let her move a finger. You have to go up the stairs? Not without him. You need a glass of water? He’ll fetch it. He cooks all her favorite meals and weird cravings.

The nursery room they’ve built together is inspired by the stars. All the pretty star and moon decorations were placed in the nursery.

The baby is coming:

“There, there, it’ll all be better soon.”

“I can’t wait to see our baby.”

Gale brought the best healers he know to assist Tav. He rubs her lower back to try and comfort the contractions. He is extremely nervous— hands shaking and all!

The baby is born: It’s a boy!

“You did perfect— he’s perfect. I-I don’t even know what to say. We’re a family now, Tav…” <3

He tied back Tav’s hair in a bun and helped her shower after giving birth.

Gale watches Tav breast feed as he rubs the baby’s cheek and whispers the baby’s name to it. Promising him a good life.

Halsin

When Tav tells him she’s pregnant:

-“I knew there was something off with you, I’m just surprised this is why! You’ve already made me so happy, and now you’re giving me the biggest gift nature can bestow on me.”

She catches Halsin praying to his god, giving it thanks for the giving him a baby and family.

He starts to study babies more, even brining back natural remedies for Tav to use/eat for the baby’s health.

Belly is gettin’ bigger! :

-“At this rate you won’t be able to walk soon. Do you need your back rubbed again, my heart?”

Her belly is super big, almost too big for just 1 baby. Halsin barely leaves her side and took time away from being a leader to help Tav with her pregnancy.

He carves small wooden toys for the baby, especially ducks. He always shows Tav for validation to see if she likes them, of course she always does.

Preparing for the baby:

-“The baby will be here soon, I’ve alerted everyone in the grove to keep a watchful eye on you to make sure you don’t go too far from home. I want you to be safe.”

Halsin prepares a tub for Tav to give birth in the comfort of their own home. He collected many towels, aloe, and much other natural remedies to reduce her pain during labor.

He wants Tav to pick the baby’s name, he feels as if this is natures gift and that the mother should have free range to name the baby. He is happy with anything.

He orders midwives to make Tav eat soups, many that don’t taste great but are super packed with benefits for a healthy baby.

The baby is coming:

-“It hurts my heart to see you like this, but I promise we’ll get through this together.”

-“Keep pushing, my love, you are doing so well, don’t stop now.”

Tav never seen him so nervous. Her contractions were very frequent with little to no time between them. He gets extremely overwhelmed and starts to get snappy with the midwives to try and help Tav cope. He even tries healing magic on her as well to help.

Halsin holds her hand in both palms, he squeezes them whenever she groans in pain. He always uses loving words to try and comfort her.

The baby is born: It’s twins! Boy & Girl

-“Look, Tav! It’s our cubs, they’re beautiful. This is truly a blessing from nature, I am forever grateful for you for giving me a family. I promise to protect us all.”

He holds both babies in each arm, swaying them slowly and adoring their little faces. He orders all and any crowd away from the home for privacy between the couple. Halsin likes to call them his cubs. He gives Tav many kisses and thanks.

Halsin prepares a ceremony to introduce the babies to the Oak Father. They were wrapped in the finest silk blankets and all the grove attended, giving their prayers to welcome the children.

Many members of the grove gives the newly parents much gifts and food. Halsin has never been happier and is excited to teach his skills to his cubs.

Note: Halsin a twin daddy? 🥺 omg my heart, I could imagine him playing toys with them and teaching them how to go into wild shape. Little cubs running around the house. <3333

#bg3 fluff #bg3 tav #astarion bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 halsin #halsin bg3 #halsin x tav #halsin fanfic #halsin x reader #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale bg3 #gale fanfic #bg3 headcanons #bg3 reader #bg3 spoilers

[lolitafushiguro]

Dancing in the Rain (Neuvillette x Reader)

Lolita's Note: ー in which you saw neuvillette standing by the porch in the midst of a downpour of rain ー you asked him to dance, and little did you know it soothed his aching heart.

This, again, is taken from the actual lore of the hydro dragon crying whenever it rains!

There is a common superstition passed down through the hushed whispers in Fontaine…

…that when it rains, it is said that the Hydro dragon weeps.

It is something that you have always wondered about. You always thought about the things that made the hydro dragon cry, because it happens quite often too.

With that said, you have come to a realization that the Hydro Dragon must have a tender heart.

One that is as gentle as a morning drizzle.

Yet one that is as powerful as a thunderstorm blaring through the darkest of nights.

When the latter happens, you seek the arms of the one you love, Neuvillette. And somehow, when your bodies find each other, you swear to the archons that the storm has calmed down.

Even just a little.

The thing about Neuvillette is he does not like to display his emotions.

But he is very polite and courteous. He does not like to make anyone feel excluded, despite working in an occupation where a cutthroat attitude is necessary.

One can say that his personality becomes two sides of the same coin.

There is a middle ground, though ー a blurred space that combines these said facets of his personality. One that he fails to hide every single time.

One that comes out when it rains.

"Darling? Neuvillette?" You shift on your shared bed in a half-asleep state, looking for him.

When you sense that he's not inside your bedroom, you lit up a lamp and searched for him in your shared home.

It's been raining pretty hard these days. Coincidentally in your point of view, Neuvillette has been acting odd. It's as if he's more uptight and aloof. You noticed that he also stays up pretty late ー sometimes you think he doesn't sleep at all.

Another strange thing he frequently does, is he stands by the front porch watching the downpour of rain.

So now you definitely knew where he is.

Slowly, you hesitated to reach for his hair, but you did anyway. Caressing it gently, he was taken by surprise for a moment before he turned to you and gave you a small smile.

"Oh, my dear. You should go back to bed. We still have two hours before it is morning." He curtly tells you before he holds you closer to him.

"It seems that you want me to stay, though." You chuckle, placing your hand on top of his.

He lets out a small laugh ー one that comes out as a content sigh.

The loud downpour of the rain calmed down into a somber drizzle.

"Do you still find storms scary?" He asked you, while he looked out to the distance. You nod in reply. He sighs once again, as if he's apologizing that it cannot be helped.

"As long as you're here, I'm going to be fine." You held his hand and took him with you outside, a sudden idea of dancing in the rain popped in your head.

"What are you doing?" He asked you, a bit alarmed.

"Let's dance in the rain!" You exclaim.

"You're going to catch a cold." Neuvillette tries to take you back inside.

"Then take care of me when that happens!" You retort.

Neuvillette laughs. It sounded more genuine now.

It continued raining, but unlike the violent storm before, it poured gently on your skin. The man brushes a wet strand of your hair that covered your face and smiles at you again.

"Very well. Lead the way, monsieur/mademoiselle." Neuvillette put his hand over his chest, while you held the hem of your dress shirt on both sides.

After you bowed, you took Neuvillette's hands and guided them ー one finds its way on your waist and the other holds your hand.

"We don't have music, so let's just pretend that we are dancing to the melody of the rain." You laugh, as you begin dancing to the rhythm of waltz.

You both shared tender laughs and danced in the rain like children, even if the only light that illuminated you were the lamps of your home.

"I am sorry. I should've stayed in bed. I don't want you to be the one seeking my presence every time you feel afraid, upset, or terrible in general." He sighs.

Just as you wonder if the hydro dragon has a human form, Neuvillette wonders if you already cracked the code.

"Hydro dragon, don't cry. Hydro dragon, don't cry." You started to chant softly, as if lulling a weeping child.

He softened at your expression. As he spun you around he asked,

"Where did you learn that?"

"Oh, nothing. I thought it would be nice if the Hydro dragon hears it. I mean, not that it would be of much help." You chuckle.

Neuvillette then finds himself repeating the same words.

"Yeah that's it, let's chant it together!"

Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Hydro Dragon, don't cry.

Neuvillette admires your gentle nature. One touch, one word, and one look ー all of his worries dissipate.

All of his woes disappear.

And of course, the heavy rainfall that he brings forth once he has a heavy heart stops.

Just like now.

"Oh? The rain stopped!" You squealed in excitement.

"Yes, it seems that the hydro dragon heard us." He replied.

The skies cleared to reveal the slight glimmer of light at the crack of dawn.

Looking up, you can still see the full moon.

"Come, let us go back inside and dry ourselves. We still have a few hours of sleep to catch." Neuvillette tells you, guiding you back to your shared home.

"I wonder if the Hydro dragon really heard us. I hope whatever troubles them is resolved soon." You say as he tucks you to bed.

To him, if it's you, then he can get used to your lullaby ー a hushed chanting of his name, one that seeks to comfort his sonder heart.

ー Lolita

#genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette x y/n #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette headcanons #neuvillette fluff #lolita writes #phew what an impulsive piece #gotta go to bed now :3 #this was fun to write #originally i wanted to go for childe in this but i guess i like this one now hehe #genshin impact

[moonstruckme]

hi! i hope you're having a good day<3 i was wondering if you could write a remus x fem!reader where they aren't really dating but everyone knows they like each other (them included) where r has kinda mean friends? like, they leave her out of everything and she constantly feels bad about it. and ever time she tells remus he's like "you should drop them, you deserve better" and he's just trying to get her to see that she deserves better?

Thank you <3

modern au

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 736 words

Remus can feel a heaviness building where you sit on the couch next to him. 

He lets his eyes slide subtly in your direction, and you’re frowning at your phone. Not an upset frown, no pursed lips or drawn brows, just a slight downturn of the corners of your mouth. You look defeated, and Remus can’t abide it. 

“Everything alright, love?”

Predictably, you soften like butter at the endearment, and your expression as you turn to him is kind if not happy. “Yeah, I’m good,” you say, and Remus pretends not to know it’s a lie. He waits. Your eyes drop to his shoulder, one thumbnail picking at the other distractedly. “I just wish…I wish that if my friends were going to hang out without me, they’d at least not post so much about it.” 

A familiar ache starts up in his chest. “Oh no. What’ve they done?” 

You shrug like it’s little to you, but he sees the way you press your lips together, the faint redness creeping up from your neck. He hopes you don’t cry, if only to spare his delicate heart. 

“They’re all at Hannah’s place, I guess. Going to go see the new movie premiere.” You laugh. It sounds raw. “I actually asked them if they wanted to go do that tonight, and they all said they were busy.” 

The frailty of your voice works like glass shards, cleaving Remus clean open. “Darling,” he says, and he doesn’t care that you’re not official enough to acknowledge the endearment in its full capacity. You both know he means it well enough. His hand slides atop yours the way one tempers one ingredient by adding a tiny bit of another before the rest. You soften at his touch, and Remus goes all the way, curling his arms under yours to give your back a firm squeeze. “I know you’re sick of hearing it from me, but they really don’t deserve you.” 

A tiny drop of warm wetness slides from your face to his shirt. His own fault, really, but if a good cry is what you need he’s ready to indulge you. “I just want to know what it is about me that makes me so terrible to be around,” you weep, and Remus crushes you to his front unthinkingly, a protective ire swelling within him. He wishes he could go to your friend’s house and give these girls a talking-to right now, but you probably wouldn’t thank him for it. He settles for dragging his palm up and down your back, hip to shoulder and back again. 

“Don’t say that,” he pleads with you. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” Your sigh is a stilted, shuddering thing. “I’m putting you in an awful position. I don’t mean to fish for compliments.” 

“I know,” he promises, his hand stopping where Remus can feel your heart beating through the material of your shirt. “And I’m not saying it out of any sense of obligation, but you really are lovely to be around. I mean” —he pulls back so you can see his face, hoping the sincerity in it will make some headway against your self-doubt— “would I be here if you weren’t?”

You give him a small smile, thin-lipped. “You’re very nice.” 

Remus laughs, wrapping his fingers around your upper arms and barely restraining himself from trying to shake some sense into you. “I’m not that nice. But okay, Sirius would never hang around anyone he didn’t actually like, can we agree there?” He takes your silence for acquiescence, and, with a gentle smile, goes on. “Every one of our friends sees how kind, and smart, and lovely you are. They” —he shoots a pointed look at your phone— “are the only ones who don’t. That’s how I know you’re not the problem, sweetheart,” he says, softer now. “They are.” 

You look him in the eyes as you take a deep breath. This one goes in and out steadier than the last, and some of the tension in his own chest eases. “Thank you,” you tell him. 

Remus can’t help himself; he pulls you in for another hug, selfish to his core. “No thanks necessary,” he says firmly.

“I guess the only thing to do,” you say, voice muffled against his shoulder, “is to stop trying to make plans with them and hang out exclusively with you.” 

Remus laughs. He doesn’t hate the sound of that.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x self insert #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin fluff #the marauders #marauders era #marauders #marauders fanfic #marauders fic #the marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[inbarfink]

Okay, so… The ending flashback in “I Remember You” is often assumed by fans to be specifically the moment where Simon and Marcy first met. Like, Simon stumbled on this Weird Gray Kid crying in the middle of the apocalypse, cheered her up with a dolly and only after that Simon started taking care of Marcy full-time. 

However, while this seems to be a pretty logical interpretation of the scene - a look at the original storyboard actually reveals that was not the original intention.

You can argue whether or not it was properly conveyed in the finished episode, but the intent was supposed to be that these two already knew each other and were already a tiny lil’ post-apocalypse family (‘he has left her alone for some reason’ implies that they would usually be together at this point).

I mean, since this idea wasn’t really all that clear in the actual episode, a lot of people who did know about the storyboard notes (myself included) still assumed it wasn’t really canon. You know, it didn’t seem like such a big deal. What’s the big difference between Simon giving Marceline Hambo on the first day they met or not? What difference does it make?

And even when this idea was discussed, it was generally within the framework of, like, speculating about a possible connection between Simon and Elise (Marceline's Mom). And/or that Marceline specifically knew Simon before the War. Since neither of these ideas ever really came back in the Show itself, most people just kinda forgot about these Storyboard notes - if they ever knew about them in the first place.

It’s only very recently that it suddenly dawned on me; what was the original intent behind that scene, what is the meaning it was trying to convey, why was it so important to specify that Simon and Marcy already knew each other in that flashback. 

If this is Simon and Marcy’s first meeting then the narrative is, like we mentioned above, that lil Marceline was crying in the rubble because she misses her mom or she just really processed that the world has been destroyed, or because she was tired, or hungry. Then Simon sees the poor little girl weeping and immediately sets on to cheer her up and help her in whatever way he can. That is still a very solid narrative that focuses on Simon’s kindness and strong parental instincts. I can see why so many people are attached to it as their interpretation for that scene. It certainly makes sense for Simon’s character overall and Marceline’s relationship to him.

But the intended meaning is actually uniquely important as a part of “I Remember You”. Because the narrative implied by the fact that they knew each other at that point is that Simon has left Marcy alone ‘for some reason’ (scouting ahead? Forging for food in a dangerous area?) and Marcy probably started crying because of that. Maybe he was taking longer to come back than he promised her to, maybe she just started getting anxious because she’s a little kid all alone (who already has abandonment issues pre-packaged from her mom). 

But whatever the specifics are, with this one extra detail of ‘they know each other’ it seems extremely likely that Marceline was crying because she thought Simon had left her forever. 

But Simon did come back, ran straight to her, comforted her and reassured her that no, he didn’t leave her behind, he’s right here. And then he gives her Hambo as both an apology for leaving her behind and a reassurance.

A reassurance that he’s still here, and he’s not going to leave her.

#adventure time #atimers #ice king #the ice king #marceline #simon petrikov #marceline abadeer #marceline the vampire queen #marceline adventure time #simon and marcy #i remember you #simon adventure time #adventure time simon #adventure time marceline #adventure time analysis #at simon #at marceline #simon at

[tojisun]

Reader who loves Simon but….he’s Simon😖

my fucking god!!

how do you even go about that? when your love is not asked for, what else could you do? would they see your acts of devotion and care as a burden? would your affection only cripple them? when all that you are is a person who loves, how can you exist with them?

and the thing is, simon would not let you love him because he thinks he is undeserving of it. he thinks that what is good for you is to leave and forget about him so he pushes you to do just that. he is so, so stubborn. he sees his faults and thinks you should see him the way he sees himself; thinks that your love is naive and innocent and unfounded.

you tell him he’s wrong, of course.

oh how wrong he is.

he’s simon. he is the one your soul yearns for; the one it seeks for. but most of all, he is just who he is.

you would spend a lifetime alone and in agony if it meant the next one would be spent with him. it is not so much as proving to him your love, but it is paying your dues. it is doing everything it would take just so simon be kind to himself.

because you know, god, you know, that simon is doing this because he loves you.

so, “please. please, let me love you too.”

your sadness has turned to fury; to a sputtering anguish that makes your chest cave into itself. you feel hollowed out, exposed, your heart bleeding at its seams.

still, simon stands there, his lips pinched and his eyes furrowed. the distance between you two is less than a foot and yet it feels immeasurably vast. like the world spins and time runs only to force you two further apart.

simon balls his hands into a tight fist.

“go,” he says. “pack y’r things and, just, go.”

no, you want to say but you see the storm of simon’s emotions in his eyes. they rage on, crashing against each other, and you stop, breath stuttering to a halt.

you can’t burden him any more.

he turns, shutting himself in the guest room again.

none of your words could ever make him change his mind. none of your actions could make him understand. so you burn, bright in your sorrow. you sob and cry, collapsing into yourself—a weeping star, decaying.

tomorrow, you will wake up alone in your apartment. the guest room will be scrubbed clean, leaving not even a remnant that simon’s been here.

simon’s gone.

—

(this is so immovable object meets unstoppable force coded)

#i rambled bc i dont know how to shut up :’> #tomie <3 #ask #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #suns

[rodolfoparras]

listen, listen-

price missing his boyfriend (reader) while he’s on leave so he ends up buying a dildo and using a bit.

but then reader finds it and double penetration ensues (I know I’m kinda stealing ideas from other fics you just did I’m sorry)

-⚰️

One thing I can see is price having one singular dildo, just a thing he keeps around and uses every once a while, besides he needs it much less now that he has you

But sometimes he finds himself missing you, usually after a long day of work, or when he can’t seem to fall asleep no matter what he does

That’s when he finds himself taking his toy out before sprawling out on his mattress and slowly working the toy inside of him.

But it doesn’t feel the same, cant even reach his prostate properly, sweet thing is just huffing and puffing, sweat dripping down his body and hand aching from the uncomfortable position he’s keeping it in

So he decides to reach for his phone, dials your number, scrambles to remember what time it’s over where you’re at before you pick up the call.

Your voice is low and coated with sleep barley registering what’s happening but for him it’s enough to have heard your voice ,already feeling much happier with the toy continuously sliding inside his hole

You don’t even register what’s going on, sometimes price just has those days where conversations are kept short, so you keep blabbering on til he no longer grunts out short responses but rather whines and whimpers,and your brows furrow in confusion, conversation coming to a stop before you mutter a breathy and low “John?”

“Please, keep talking, please..”

•

He never intended for you to find it. Either way you had ended up finding it when looking for a shirt to change into. For a second, a surprised look paints your face, before confusion overthrows it until it finally sets into something more playful as you make your way over to your boyfriend.

“I see you keep yourself entertained when I’m not around “ you say and can’t help but smile at the way he turns red in the face, words falling over each other as he attempts to explain himself

He’s absolutely embarrassed, doesn’t know what you’ll think about him. Will you think it’s strange for an old man like him to keep toys in his closet? Maybe you’ll even be upset? No maybe you’ll think he’s a sex ad-

“That’s- that’s not-“

“It’s okay sweetheart “ you say voice low as you walk closer to him “you are allowed to have fun without me you know?” You say cupping his face with your free hand while the other holds onto his toy

“How about you show me how you use it when im gone hm?” You say leering down at home while stroking his cheeks

Price can already feel his cock stir, mind going hazy as he agrees to your suggestion “yes- yes sir”

“Good boy”

•

Price is sprawled out on your bed, stark naked, legs spread and cock weeping where it rests against his stomach

“It’s okay pretty, go ahead, show me how you take care of yourself”

Imagine the bashfulness, the fleeting gaze, the blush on his face as he circles the plastic cock head around his puckered rim before he sees the tent in your pants and becomes much more confident as he pushes it inside of him

#Alec answers #⚰️ anon #accidentally posted it before I got to edit it oh well #scribbles #John price #John price x reader #John price x male reader #captain John price #captain John price x male reader #captain John price x reader #top male reader #dom male reader #sub male character #bottom male character

[writers-hes]

The Blind Man

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, abusive marriage)

They finally meet.

PART 1 / PART 2

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

There was nothing discreet with how you dressed. You were in all black, a black veil shielding you from the onlookers. Simon sent some money to Johnny’s wife, Beth, for a proper wake. His house was filled with white flowers and proper food. It’s the least he could do, that’s what he said. You were sitting beside the widow, trying to console her.

“Johnny used to talk about you alot,” she weeped. “‘That’s my girl! That’s my daughter and she’ll go places!’ That’s what he always said. He told me how you grew up in the brothel and how you were always willing to listen to his lessons in arithmetic.” Her eyes were red from crying and all you could do was console her. “Thank you for taking care of him…for taking care of us,”

“It’s nothing, Beth,” you assured her. “He let me into his bunker when my mum died,” you recalled. “He protected me from…from…as much as he could, you know?”

God. Just how many people could you lose in this fucking lifetime? First, your father but you’ve never really weeped for him. You never knew him. Second, your mum. She took care of you with how little she had. Third, Tommy. You never heard back if he was alive or not. Your protector. Fourth, Big Johnny. He’s always been the male figure that you considered as your father. Who’s next?

“I’m grateful for him,” you managed to choke out. You asked your security guards to go somewhere else, maybe a few feet or metres from the house. You wanted privacy. “I’m just so regretful to never have seen him and now he’s gone…”

Johnny died because of a rumble with some of the newer gangs in Small Heath. Some young lads mugged him on the way home and killed him. They threw his body by the docks where they thought no one would ever see him.

Your body suddenly fills with rage. Was this the work of the Blinders? Fuck. Why would they fucking do that? Beth excuses herself from you and you nodded. Picking on the rings on your fingers, you didn’t notice who sat beside you. 

“Seems like we only see each other at weddings and funerals,” You gasped, looking at the source of the familiar voice. How could you ever forget? She told you what you needed to do to survive. 

“Polly,” you gasped, extending your shaky hands towards her. “How have you been?”

“I’m good,” she replied. “Who would’ve thought, huh?” she asked. She lets you clutch her hand for support. “Where’s Simon?”

“He has business in Camden Town,” you replied. “He allowed me to go but there’s security around us right now. We can’t really talk, Poll—he’s going to, he’s going to—“

“I’ve handled it,” she said. “You can talk to me as freely as you would like, okay?” You nodded. 

“I’m sorry for…for leaving,” you whispered. Your voice wavers and you feel the wetness in your eyes. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Darling…”

“He threatened to kill Tommy, Arthur, and John if I didn’t obey,” you confessed. “During the…the war,” You shut your eyes to hide from Polly. Her heart aches. You’ve always been reluctant to show your emotions but you are visibly hiding now. Cowering from the fear of rejection and of humiliation from Polly Gray. “He said that-that he knew people who could finish the job.”

“Don’t hide,” she coos. Your obedience was not in vain but she’d never tell you that. She didn’t want Tommy to act impulsively and she didn’t want you to lose what you already have. “How are you? You don’t need permission from a man, you know,”

“I know,” you nod. “You always told me but…Simon is all I have now. He trusts me and I don’t want to break that trust that I’ve worked so hard on. You told me to take advantage of everything and I am,”

“What have you been doing?”

“I have trusts, bonds, and investments to my name now. Simon couldn’t take them away from me. All sealed with a document that my lawyers reviewed,” you told her. Once a prostitute, always a prostitute.

“Johnny and I taught you well then,” she nods in approval. “That’s good. We miss you,”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Where’s Ada? I’ve to thank her for the house,”

“If anything, she has you to thank. She’s been going there a lot since you left. She said she feels more at peace there,” Polly replied. “When are you leaving?”

“After the burial,” you replied. “I have to leave and go to uh, Italy with Simon,”

“For what?”

“Some…business thing.” you replied. 

“He’s showing you the world?” she asked, gesturing to your clothes. You knew it. It was too much for a funeral.

“Yeah. It’s too much isn’t it? I can-I can change into something else but, he likes these clothes,” you told her. “But can I—“

“No, you look good,” she says, stopping you from your worries. “You look like who you’re supposed to be,”

You look like who you’re supposed to be. If it was any other person, you’d be offended; but this was Polly. She always told you that you didn’t belong in Small Heath. “You’re too pure to belong here forever.” She’d always say. It’s funny, you felt like you never belonged in Simon’s world no matter how hard he tried to put you in it. 

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask about Tommy and his brothers. How could you? You were too scared to know the answer. If Polly didn’t mention it, it’s probably for the best.

“I do wish you’d visit us more but I know your circumstances,” she said. “I received the letter from Simon along with a cheque of a few thousand pounds,”

“Did you encash it?” you asked. 

“No,” she replied. Somehow, that gave you comfort. She couldn’t be bought. “I did it because I was so worried about what could happen to you. It didn’t have any details. It just said that he’d appreciate it if we cease all contact. He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”

“No,” you shook your head. Not yet. “As unimaginable as it all is, he has never. I truly believe that he loves me, Pol. He tells me every day. He heeds everything that I say or do and has never had a mistress but I feel so terrible because I don’t love him that way,” you confessed, feeling like the weight of the world just lifted itself on your shoulders. “I’m terrible,”

“You’re not,” Polly said. “I told you to take advantage of everything but I never told you to love him, did I?”

-

You went home that day feeling lighter. You could always confide in Polly whenever you needed. You were just so heartbroken to know that that could probably never happen again. Your servants have left now. You told them that you didn’t need them during the night because of how small the house was. They stayed at a lodging for labourers nearby; except for the guards. They came with you wherever you go, even if it was only at a distance. 

You were putting away the heavy gold earrings in the vanity in your room. It was dark, except for the lamp that you opened by the bed. 

“You should really change your locks,” Your head whipped, earrings falling on the ground. 

“Tommy?” you asked, rushing towards him in your most comfortable clothes. It was a long sleeved pyjama shirt that Simon owned. Tommy didn’t like it. “Oh my God. You’re here,” you breathed, shaky hands touching his arm. “You’re here…you’re here,”

“And you’re here,” he says, his voice void of emotion. He looked for the pressed flowers in the frame that usually sat on your vanity. It was gone. “You left,”

“I didn’t want to,” you said, removing your hands from him when you felt how cold he was.

“Did you plan on coming back? At all?” he asked. His rage blinds him. Why was he so cold and cruel? Why couldn’t he tell you how happy he was to see you again? He didn’t know how to handle his emotions. Years of longing…of heartbreak…of wondering if he could ever be good enough came down on him. 

“Tommy?”

“It’s just a funny thing, isn’t it?” he chuckled, lighting up his cigarette. “You leave, make your way into the world, and then expect things to be the same.”

You frowned. 

“It’s a funny thing. You promised to wait for me and you didn’t,” he spat. “All I ever looked at was your photo in those four years and you—“

“I didn’t want to leave, Tommy,” you whispered. 

“But you did!” he exclaims. “You left me! You…you left me and married someone else. You decided that I could never grant my promises and fucked someone else. Like a…like…”

“Like what, Tommy?” you asked, stepping away from him. “Like a whore?” He’s never thought of you like that before.

“I never said that,”

“But you thought it!” You sit on your bed. “You see me like how everyone sees me. Fuck,” you shook, shielding yourself away from him. “How could you ruin this for us?”

“No, I’m—“

“Then, what? What is it, Tommy? You come in here to my house and pick a fight. You can’t blame me for the choices that I made! I had no idea if you were coming back. What else was I supposed to do?”

“Wait for me,” he demanded. “I told you to wait for me. I’ve been building us everything that we ever wanted but you were just so impatient,”

“How could I if you never wrote back?”

You looked up at him through teary eyes. You finally gave him the chance to look at you. You looked older, despite the garb that you were wearing. The sparkle was gone. You looked up at him. He’s different. Detached, cold, and emotionless. The blue eyes that used to convey so much emotion were gone. He wasn’t letting you in like he used to. 

You both changed.

A shimmer on your neck catches his attention. It was his mother’s locket. You catch his eyes casting down on it. 

“I forgot,” you croaked, looking away. “I’m supposed to give this to you.” He wasn’t your Tommy anymore.

“No, you should keep it,”

“It’s okay,” you nod, removing the locket from your person and putting it on the bed. It was the first time you’ve ever removed it and it felt like you were removing a leash. “You own it. You should give it to someone else. Someone that’s…that’s not me,”

“Y/N…love,” he tried but you shook his head. “It always belonged to you.”

“We’re not the same people anymore, Tom. You look at me and-and it’s how everyone else does,” you cried. “Like a whore. I’m selling my body and my future for a life like this. Right? I don’t want to have this anymore,” you said. “We grew apart and we’re older now. We’re not the same people,” You don’t love me anymore.

There was hell and there was a place below hell. It was where he was. How could he be so cruel to make you cry? How could he insinuate that you were all the same? How could you hint that he doesn’t love you anymore?

“I waited for you, Tommy. Waited for you to write back and at first, I felt…sad. Then, angry. You think I’m so disposable. So replaceable, right?” you asked. “I sent you letters every week. You always told me you’d protect me but you couldn’t even send me a letter telling me that you were alright. You couldn’t even protect Johnny!”

Maybe if he told you that it was Polly who intercepted those letters, you wouldn’t be so mad at him. Maybe you wouldn’t think that he’d abandon you so easily. Maybe you’d know that you were the only face that got him out of the tunnels. Maybe you’d know that it was your name that made him feel good. Like your name was some prayer he’s worthy enough to say every time that he felt like he was underground again. But how could he hurt you more than he already did?

“You were the one who replaced me,” Maybe you’d finally know that he loves you and that, if you could have just waited a little bit longer, you’d never have to worry if your hair was out of place.

“There was nothing to replace.”

-

Tommy brews in anger. To Polly, to you, and to himself. He couldn’t tell you that Polly intercepted your letters. He didn’t want to cut your relationship with her too. 

“Fuck!” he roared. The barmaid comes in and asks Tommy if he was okay. He shrugs her off but seems intent on staying.

“Do you want me to sing for you?” she asked. He leans back, uninterested. 

“Sure,”

“Happy or sad?” she asked. 

“Uh, sad,” 

“It’ll break your heart,” she says, smiling softly.

“Already broken,” he muttered. Already broken. 

He sits there, unmoving. To be honest, he didn’t know why he was so mad at you. He was truly, utterly, and irrevocably alone now that you were gone. It wasn’t that he wasn’t used to being alone. He prefered it sometimes. Maybe it’s because he always expected for the two of you to be alone together. Like you always were. 

The fear of being unknown to you scares him. You’ve always known him—his whole heart and his whole soul. You’ve always known him but now, you’re gone. You���ll never know him the way you knew him. You were too different now and it rips through him like nothing else. You’ll never be there for him like you did. He’ll never know you like he did once. He could never pinpoint it but he hates how he was never enough for you. If only he could provide, if he could only protect, if only…

Here he thought he’d finally have a wink of sleep after four years. 

-

You were on the phone with your husband after Tommy stormed out in anger last night. You needed to be comforted, to be told that you were right and that everyone else was wrong. It was one of the few luxuries you allowed yourself when you were with Tommy but you were positive that you’ve lost him now.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. “I can always come down there, you know,”

“I know,” you nodded. “I just miss you,” 

“You do?” You could tell that that inflated his ego. “If it’s any consolation, I missed you too,”

“Do you think…do you think you can be here for the funeral?” you asked before you could even stop yourself. Why were you bringing him here when Tommy was around? Were you bringing him here out of spite? To make Tommy what? Jealous? But then again, was it a sin to ask for comfort from your husband? Tommy would never understand. He was quick to tell you what he thought of you yesterday. It was the first time he did it but you couldn’t get it out of your head. If to him, you were a whore, then a whore you’d be. 

It was the only thing you were good at anyway. 

“Of course,” he nodded. “This thing with Solomons is just shit work anyway. I’ll be there the day before. Will that be alright?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. Are you really willing to let him inside the fort you’ve built with Tommy? “I lost my mom’s locket today and I…” 

“You did?” he asked. He knew how important that locket was to you. You begged him to not take it off during your wedding. If only he knew. He bought you jewels but you never wore another necklace. “We can get you another one. Something that’s even more beautiful than the one you had.”

“I suppose so,” you sighed. “I love you,” 

“I love you too.”

And you weren’t sure if you were still lying. 

-

Simon arrives at your house sometime in the morning, before the sun rises. It was his first time seeing your house—being in your house. It was a small, shabby home with flowers. Have you always liked flowers? One of the servants opened the door for him and he entered. Poor you. Did you always live like this? 

He spots you reading a book on the couch when you look up at him.

“How was your trip?” You close the book and sit upright. “I hope it wasn’t horrible,”

“I’m here now,” he sits down, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. “You’ve been on my mind since you left. Is there anything I have to know?”

“I…I talked to Polly,” you confessed. The grip that he has on your waist tightens. “But we only talked about Johnny. She said that the police aren’t doing anything to know who killed him.”

“I see,” 

“But I left after that. I’ve never seen her since,” you said truthfully. “I told her that we couldn’t meet again,”

“Thank you for not breaking my trust,” he said, removing his grip on you. “You know it’s for us, right?”

“Yes, I know,” you nodded. This is wrong. This is all wrong. Why were you understanding him more? Are you only agreeing with Simon because you hated Tommy at that moment? What’s the sudden change? 

You were all gathered at Johnny's funeral. Simon was beside you, holding your waist protectively. Beth was a wailing mess by the coffin. They were putting him six feet under. Last night was the last time she’ll ever see Johnny’s physical body again. You were bowing your head down, trying to keep your tears away. Johnny had been the father figure and now, he’s gone too. 

The ceremony ends soon enough with Simon never letting go of your body. The Shelbys have noticed. Simon was basically hounding you so you wouldn’t have to talk to others. 

“I sometimes wonder if she stopped talking to us because she wanted to or if she was forced to,” Arthur said, looking at you and your husband. Ada was looking at Polly. They were the only ones who knew. They both agreed to never tell a soul because of how messy things could be. Tommy would wage a war if it concerned you. “The question is why is she letting him?”

Tommy walks to where you were. He clears his throat to make himself known. He watches your figure become rigid. Simon was looking at him, his hand still on your waist. If he could shoot this prick’s hand for even laying a hand on you—

“I’m Tommy Shelby,” he starts. “I just decided to come by and offer a quick greeting to your wife.”

“Of course, Mr. Shelby,” Simon replied, his voice was strained and you were scared. Terrified. “Y/N didn’t tell me about you. Have you, darling?” There was a threat in his voice.

“Oh,” you nod, licking your lips. Your voice was wavering. “Mr. Shelby i-is someone I knew when I was a child, darling. He left for the war and…and…”

“We haven’t seen each other since,” he finishes.  “I wish we could talk more,” Tommy added, confirming what he already thought. He didn’t spare you a glance and if he did, he didn’t make a show of it. “Mr. Coventry. Y/N,” he bowed, taking your gloved hand and kissing your knuckles. He walks away, leaving Simon’s anger and your anxiety behind him. 

Simon didn’t speak to you on the way back. You tried but he only dismissed you with a cold shoulder. When you arrived home, he dragged you by the arm to the living room. You watched while the servants dispersed to give you some privacy. It was funny how they always pretended that they knew nothing.

“Do you really think I’m fucking stupid?” he roared, his loud voice vibrating the walls of your home. “You talked to Polly Gray but didn’t meet Tommy. At all,”

“You have to believe me, Simon. I never…it’s my first time seeing him again!” you pleaded, scared for Tommy’s life—scared for yours. Your arm hurts but you have bigger problems right now. What was a little bruise anyway? “I didn’t even know if he was still alive,”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked. “It’s like everything that you’re saying are…are lies! I gave you everything,” he spits. “I gave you and your friends money. If it weren’t for me, you’d still be in that fucking brothel fucking some twat who could never afford everything that I’m giving you. Is that what you want? Do you want to go back there?”

“Simon,” you tried. “I swear, I didn’t know he was still alive. Polly never told me. I—“

“Liar!” he says, stepping closer to you. He grasps your chin tightly, your head unmoving at the pressure. “I bought you. Don’t you dare fucking disrespect me. I own you,” 

“Simon, please…” you cried. “I swear to you I didn’t…”

“Shut up,” he spits. “You’re fucking disgusting,”

He shoves you to the floor and you cry. He leaves without looking at you. He didn’t apologise for what he did. It was the first time he showed you what you were to him. A property. You didn’t sleep that night; you were just on the balcony, looking at the docks, wondering what would’ve happened if you had just waited. 

-

The morning comes and you are tired. Simon just woke up and decided to stay with you on the balcony. 

“I’m sorry, angel,” he whispers. He wraps his arms around your shoulders. “I’m sorry for doing that. I promise to never do that again. I was just…so angry because Tommy Shelby came to us. Do you see why you’re not allowed to be here? Why I hate it when you’re in Birmingham? These fucking rats have no respect,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“Simon, you said things,” you whispered, looking up at him. Tears stained your cheeks. Everything that he said replayed inside your head over and over.  What right did you have to demand his apology if he owned you? “You…”

Defeated, Simon sighs.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You know that I’m doing this for us. I’m sorry,”

You could only nod wordlessly, blinking away the tears before they fall again. You didn’t notice the bruising on your jaw yet. You weren’t at the brothel anymore but up to what extent are you truly free? At the end of the day, you’re still weak. You still have nothing. At the end of the day, buttering him up doesn’t matter.

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1912

“One day, we’ll be able to buy those fancy, black cars and drive around London as much as we want.” Tommy said. He was in his work clothes, a greasy white shirt and his shaggy hair falling in different sorts of places. 

“We will?”

“Yes,” he nodded, his shoulder touching yours. You were just about to work when he pulled you away. He asked if you wanted to come with him to The Cut for a little while and you agreed, finding it hard to say no to him. “I’ll get you one and then, I’ll get you a horse.” 

“Don’t forget the house with a big lawn,” you giggled. 

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I’ll buy that first,”

“Would you hate me if things don’t work out the way we want them to?” you asked. “I’m just wondering,”

“Why wouldn’t it? We’re staying together,” Tommy said, casting you a confused look. 

“I mean, you’ll get a wife. I can’t live in the same house as her,” you said. “I don’t want to cause unnecessary problems for the two of you. I want her to be my friend too.”

“I’m not marrying,” he said. “Why should I marry? We come as a pair. Never one without the other. We won’t need anyone else,”

“That would be nice.”

“I get it,” he nodded. “You’re always my main priority. I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about all that yet. As long as you’re with me, I’ll be fine,”

“And if I’m not?”

“I won’t,”

“How are you going to do all this?” you asked. You always believed in Tommy.

“I’ll do everything,” 

“You’re a man of ambition, Tommy. Did you know that you can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous?”

He ponders. He’ll deal all of his cards and fold if it came to you.

There were a million things you wanted to tell him at that moment. He does, too. He looks at you so…lovingly and so naturally that it doesn’t seem like anything anymore. Tommy really didn’t fear anything, except when it came to you. He’s scared to tell you the truth because he might change the course of things. He’s scared to never fulfil all of his promises to you. He’s scared that he’ll never amount to anything other than a greasy boy that you took care of. 

He doesn’t say any of this, though, so he just smokes slow. 

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

“I have to do something about it,” Tommy told his brothers, taking a swig of his Irish whiskey. He was composed but his mind was running at a speed that he couldn’t quite catch up on. Were you happy in your marriage?

“Tom, it’s better if you could just let her go,” Arthur replied. “It’s not my place, hm? But we saw them yesterday. Maybe it’s for the best,”

“It’s not,” Stoic as ever, he looked ahead. 

“It’s a bad idea…” his older brother tried. “You’re fighting against a king. You’re not—“

“Why is everyone telling me that I can’t do anything? Why?” he asked. “I hardly recall asking for your permission, Arthur. You and Polly have been telling me what I can and can’t do.” 

“Tommy, think about it. With the fucking guns and taking on this whole…thing with her. It’s too big. So, just let it go, eh? You’ll get yourself killed,” John added. He knew of Tommy’s affections for you. Hell, he knew what Tommy meant. John discreetly watched you and your husband. You couldn’t maintain eye contact, you couldn’t speak freely without a stutter. It was so different from the Y/N that he used to know but Tommy couldn’t be persuaded. He was living on the edge of life in the war that it didn’t matter to him if he died or not. He’s free from the fear of death; he could do whatever he wanted. 

“I’m a man of ambition. You can’t have ambition without being a little dangerous,”

-

BANG! BANG! BANG! 

Tommy feels like the world was caving in. Fuck. He always hated sleeping, no matter how much he craved it. The darkness of his room and his closed eyes reminds him of the darkness of the tunnels. The walls and the tightness of the closed spaces; the unknown waiting on the other side. The lives he lost, the blood that his comrades spilled. He sits up, he hates how he couldn’t sleep because he’s always hearing the gunshots and the bombs in France. He hates being weak. Things were never the same and he so desperately wanted it to be. He couldn’t breathe—couldn’t think. He couldn’t see the faint lamp that burned on his bedside table. The ringing in his ears doesn’t subside. It was just fucking dark. 

He looks over his bedside table and reaches for your picture. You always seemed to calm him no matter where he went. No matter what he does, you always seem to ground him.

“Y/N,” he whispered, taking a swig of his whiskey. As if that would just conjure you. He was sometimes convinced that your picture was an apparition of the time when everything was quieter. When his world had no guns and bombs. When you two were together. He frowns, taking his head in between his hands and cries. 

If only he was stronger. If only he was rich. If only he could fulfil all of the promises he gave you. If only.

-

If there was anything he regretted, it was how angry he was when he went to your old house for your first meeting. He’s been waiting to be graced by your smile for years but he couldn’t control the anger that brewed inside him. He was so guarded after the war. But those guards seem to crumble around you, leaving him defenceless and vulnerable like a child. 

A knock on his door arouses him. It was currently just before the sunrise; that hazy blue period that calms him before everyone else wakes. He checked from his window outside but there was nothing. Another knock comes and he sighs, going downstairs to check. He puts his gun behind him. He opens the door and it reveals you.

You were shaking like a leaf when his eyes landed on your figure. 

“I don’t know…where else to…to go,” you whispered. He goes out and looks around to make sure that no one’s there. When the coast is clear, he takes your hand and guides you to the living room. He was hoping that no one heard anything.

“Do you need anything?” he asked. 

“Just…water, please,” 

“Did you walk all the way?” 

“Yeah,” he hears you say while he pours you a glass. “Sorry for disturbing you,” 

“It’s alright,” he tells you, giving you the glass. 

“Yeah,” you replied, drinking the water to avoid any sort of communication with your old friend. “Tommy?”

“Hm?” he asked, sitting in front of you and it’s so different it hurts. He used to sit beside you, knee to knee. He had to blink multiple times to clear his vision—to make sure that you were actually there. “What brings you here?”

“I…I…” you couldn’t say a single word before you broke into tears. It was then when Tommy actually looked at you, the bruising on your chin, your defeated stance. He trembles in anger but forces himself to let it subside and comfort you. “S-sorry,”

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, love,” he whispers, sitting beside you this time and rubbing circles on your back. “You don’t have to talk about it,”

“Would you still…would you still protect me?” you asked and you were aware of how selfish you sounded. “You’re right. I’m a-a whore,” you chuckled, looking away from him. “I know I’m being unfair…marrying Simon and then coming here…”

It appals him for you to think that he’ll ever stop protecting you. It disturbs him for letting you think that way because of one argument. 

Your chin was quivering as you tried to form a coherent sentence. 

“I thought…I thought I was free but he laid a hand on me,” you tried. “Gripped my chin and called me his property,”

You told yourself that it wasn’t Tommy’s fault. 

“All because you talked to me during the funeral,” you whispered. You couldn’t stop yourself and Tommy couldn’t stop himself from the emotions that linger. It’s not his fault. It’s not his fault that you loved him. 

“Let’s run away,” It’s all his fault. All his fault that he loved you. 

“Tommy…” you whispered, shaking your head. “Did you know…did you know why I stopped talking to you?” you asked him. He didn’t. Maybe the reason why he’s so angry with you was because he didn’t know. “When you were in France, he told me that if I continue any form of communication with the Shelbys…he’ll locate you and your brothers and have the three of you killed.” You reveal to him. “You always said you’ll protect me but I wanted to protect you too.”

Your broken voice was something that he’ll never forget. Your fragile figure was something that he’ll never remove from his brain. You were…miserable. How could you let yourself be miserable for his sake? How could Simon let you cry? How could he break you? You were so strong, the strongest he’s ever known.

“I will kill him,” 

“Tommy, no,” you whimpered. “I’m here to tell you that…that the best way to protect me is to forget about me,”

“You can’t do that to me,” Tommy replied, his voice stern. He was trying so, so hard. “Not when I waited to come home for four years.”

“It’s the best way,” you pleaded. “You can go start a family or…or do something else but if you really want to protect me, you’ll forget about me,” 

You were so defeated, your figure curled to your heart like you were protecting yourself from everyone. Tommy could see the stutter of your body while you tried to control everything.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he tried, blinking the tears away but failing. His resolve was crumbling; popping the joints on his knuckles to ground him. It was then he noticed your nail beds, peeled and crusted with dried blood. You must have been thinking about it for so long. “You’re not giving me a choice here, love,” You must have been hurting.

“He’ll kill you, Tom. I wouldn’t be able to take it if I am the reason why your body’s thrown at The Cut.” you told him. “I let you go once without knowing for sure that you’ll come back alive. I’ll make sure that this time, you are.”

“So that’s it, eh?” he asked. “Your bastard husband threatens my life and you let him control you.” he licks his lips.

“I’m sorry, Tom,” you told him. “That's all I could do. You’re a man…you could have the world. I’m a woman and I can’t have anything unless I make it. This is me making it.” This is me making sure that I’ll never have to think about you. 

You left in the wee hours of the morning and Tommy lets you go without a fight. He thought that he was the one doing the protecting, when you’ve been protecting him all along. You were his most tender wound. Battle scars from France don't compare to the pain he’s feeling in the darkness of the house. Should he run after you? Should he heed your advice? What if he kills Simon? Will you be free then?

“Her husband’s dealing with Alfie Solomons,” he tells everyone during a family meeting. “I’ll deal with Solomons myself,”

“You’re waging a war that is bigger than all of us, Tommy,” Arthur said.

“I’m not asking for approval,” he only replied, his voice was monotonous; suppressing his emotions as much as he could. He swallows. “Information about Y/N’s home life has reached me. She told me that the best way to protect her is to forget about her.” He confessed.

“Well, shit,” Ada replied. “Surely…”

“Surely, I won’t.” he said, voice stern and determined. “I’ll deal all of my cards if I have to. Do you get that?”

“Tommy, it’s a bad idea. She’s right. With the fucking inspector on our throats and Simon Coventry…you’ll get yourself killed.”

“I have decided,”

“Then, what’s all of this for, then?”

“Just letting you know.” he says, looking at everyone’s face of disapproval. 

When he exits the Garrison, Polly runs after him. She was determined to let him let you go for your safety. It was a sticky situation that Tommy was putting himself in. A semblance of power doesn’t mean that he’s powerful but he couldn’t seem to understand that. 

“Tommy, do you want to save her because you want to or is it because you have to prove yourself to you?” she asked him, grasping his arm. 

“Polly—“

“Do you love her because you do or do you only think you do because you need her? It’s alright to let her go, Tom. You have to realise that maybe she’s correct,” she reasoned. “The more you move, the more she’s constricted—“ 

“You took her away from me, Polly,” he spits. “How can I not love her when I need her beside me to even get a wink of sleep? Her picture was all I looked at in France. She is the reason why I’m alive—why I’m here. You took her away from me and I am taking her back. Does that look like love to you?” he demanded, shaking her arm away. 

“You want to know what blinds a man as smart as you, Tom? Love,” she says. “You’re making things—“

“So I am blind,” he shrugs. “I vowed to protect her and that is a vow that I’ll take to the grave with me, Pol. You could help or not. It wouldn’t matter either way but you owe it to me to try. At least,” 

A beat passes, Polly doesn’t speak. He nods to excuse himself, walking away as the blind man.

-

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. I’m so glad you’re still here.

Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it!

PART 4

TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay @dasia21 @tsenthusiast1920 @aces-tattooartist @panda-luminary @ttaechi @spencerrxids @i-heart-food @fudge13 @affabletimelady @heartcereql @ce1iat @notalxx @1800-queen-trash

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby #tommy shelby angst #tommy shelby fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #protection!tommy

[writingforatwistedworld]

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, murder, death, stalking, violence, obsessive behavior, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationship, blood

Your totally normal isekaid househusband

Vil by himself is already... something?

But then imagine, someone that can use magic ending up in our world

Yeah, becoming more or less a househusband is not exactly high on the list of possibilities

Jokes on the list though, that is exactly what Vil did

One year later and he is standing in an apron in your kitchen whilst you are rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, him greeting you with a “Have you slept well? I made breakfast.”

He can barely suppress himself from hanging a “darling” at the end

Or from proposing to you but Vil wants to do that with style... and when he is finally able to calm down enough that the thought of marriage with you doesn't make him a flustered puddle

For anyone else he wouldn't even have lifted a finger but for you? He is the perfect stay at home partner

The Chronicles of neighbor gossip speaks of a legend that says that angels are weeping tears of joy and singing chorus whenever Vil wipes the house own for the last speck of dust

Despite being held in such high regard, Vil is not part of the tightly-knit neighborhood spy system

Aka hpstay at home partners gossiping with each other

Oh no, he has better things to do

Like making sure that one coworker of yours finally gets it and stays away

Doesn't matter if they are from the opposite or the same gender as you

Once you brought over a new coworker that was a bit too pushy and followed you all the way back home just for them to be found dead the next morning

You would believe that the model would return to modeling, needing that sweet sweet cash, but no, he doesn't

Why should he when he can also do your laundry and smell the sweet smell of your shampoo that has rubbed into the fabric... WHY ARE YOU SO EARLY HOME??!

And he totally does not want to speak into a pillow whenever you look at him with that cute, tired expression when you come home after a long day

The only time Vil cares to be social is when it could be for your benefit or he has to make sure that no one gets too close to you

Ok, yeah, you probably aren't a fan of that one noisy neighbor lady... Let him take care of her?

Oh you know, just let him bake some cakes...

“No da- *ahem* don't take a piece. I made them for her. It never hurts to be nice, right?”

HAS SO MANY PHOTOS

Pro tip, DO NOT open his closet

If you do, you might find yourself feeling a bit invaded when it comes to your privacy

But other than that, he is a perfect househusband!

Do me a favor though, ok? Don't let too many others into the house

One day you might hear something snap and then the kitchen needs a change of wallpaper

And maybe the police needs to be called but who am I to talk

It's not like the crime rate went up after he arrived, right?

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twst x reader #self aware au #twst #twisted wonderland #twst vil #twisted wonderland vil #twisted wonderland x reader #yandere vil x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit #vil x reader #yandere vil #tw: yandere #tw: murder #tw: death #tw: stalking #tw: violence #tw: obsessive behavior #tw: possessive behavior #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: blood

[itsabouttimex2]

Ok, ok, HEAR ME OUT-

How about lmk Monkeifam and Bullfam with a Y/N who isn't afraid to throw hands —

Like i mean in a response to trauma or manipulation, becouse i fell it isn't explore enough in this situation -

Sure, your loved that you belived was a friend trapped /kidnapped/gaslight you is heartbreaking and of course you are gonna be sad and more incline to behave butttt-

There is always the other way of absolute rage that comes in once you realized you have been trapped/kidnapped /gaslight ecc- like i don't care anymore, i wanna throw hands, those people are death to me.(even thought this isn't the smarter choice considering the strenght of some of the people here) like them breaking Y/N down so they can comfort them to manipulate them, but then unsurprisingly the get the biggest smack/punch of their life . Just- wow the audacity.

Throwing Hands

Bullfam & Monkiefam

“…is this some sort of pathetic attempt at ‘rebellion’, Y/N? I am not impressed.”

Your hands straight bounce. Like punching a bag of wet cement, the Demon Bull King’s skin just shifts around under your fists, never breaking or bruising. You only shatter yourself against it, leaving you worn and looking foolish.

He might not even punish you, given that it’s likely that you break a wrist on impact.

“Now, look what you’ve done to yourself, foolish child. Did you truly think your mortal flesh could stand a demon king’s might? Well, now you know better.”

You lost your temper and struck him. Immediately, you learn better than to do that ever again, and he considers it lesson enough.

Surprisingly merciful, all things considered. (Partially because he finds it somewhat funny.)

I once said in my yandere alphabet that: “Red Son doesn’t want to waste his time doing something like caning or whipping you”. And though I think that viewpoint is usually true…

This changes that. It’s maybe the only situation where he would actively engage in any form of normalized torture “corporal punishment”.

Being physically attacked switches Red from ‘mildly reasonable, if a bit hair-trigger’ to ‘vicious and cruel’. Through brute force alone does he wrestle you into submission, binding your arms behind your back with a pair of metal cuffs.

He tosses you onto the nearest bed and couch before burning the lower half of your clothing off. He then takes up a thin metal rod to utilize in “disciplining” you, sharply lashing it down against your now unprotected skin. He’ll leave puffy, bleeding welts from the top of your rear to the bottom of your thighs, ensuring that you won’t even be able to think about walking for at least a week.

Problem is that not only does it not solve the problem of you being scared and angry, it also just… makes him feel bad afterwards. It breaks him, seeing you weep brokenly over his bed. Blood sluggishly trickles from the skin he’s lashed open, and you scream your lungs out into the sheets as you try to adjust to the pain.

And then he “has to” (wants to, in truth) settle in for some awkward form of aftercare, offering lotion and bandages. When you don’t accept, he forces you to drink a cup of honeyed tea loaded with sedatives because you won’t stop shrieking.

Antiseptic while you’re asleep, a few stitches here and there, then the lotion and bandages he tried earlier. And then a few cautious back rubs, trying to calm your fitful slumber.

“Gods, Y/N… what have I done to you? I… I was just… I was… no, I… I’m sorry.”

An outright dodge. Princess Iron Fan has no time for your nonsense. For trying, she’ll lock you into whatever room has been set aside for you, barring the door with powerful magic.

One shallowly-filled bowl of food every two days, adding just a little bit more to it each day. One ceramic cup of room temperature water every four hours. A change of clothes every three days. Instead of brute force, Iron Fan teaches you through deprivation.

After a month of this, she might see fit you allow you back out of your room, letting you mingle with the family you have been forced to adopt.

After writing her a letter of apology, of course. Two pages. Pray you have the mind to keep your pencil steady.

So very many tears to deal with, probably on both ends. MK knows that he’s doing isn’t all that great, sure… but it’s because he loves you!

Can’t you love him back, please? Ok, he’s been manipulating you! Maybe he’s been driving some friends away! Maybe he’s sent a few clones to tail you around the city! But, please, please- you can’t stop loving him! He just can’t risk having you hurt!

“Please, Y/N! You don’t understand! I’m just trying to keep you safe! You can hit me again, hit me as many times as you want! Just- please, Y/N… I need you. Please…”

His last resort is stuffing you in Shuilian Cave, given that you can’t escape with his or Sun Wukong’s help. Maybe a few ropes to keep you in place. He’ll cry with each knot tied, begging you not to hate him.

Sun Wukong tanks your punch and gives your head a little pat, frowning at the display. “Sorry, bud. Trust me, I know I’m not exactly the good guy here. Go ahead and let it out. I… kinda deserve it, huh?”

The Great Sage knows you have every reason to be upset. Really, you do. All there’s only so much waylaying of emotions to be done, unfortunately. You were going to crack eventually.

He stands firmly in place, one hand rubbing your back while you break your fists against his body, watching you scream and cry. The man is just… unsurprised? He’s starting to realize that he messes up a lot of things.. So just letting you whale on him seems fair, gently trying to shush your angry tears while your skin grinds to bloody pulp against his shredded abdomen.

“How about I make us some tea,” he offers afterwards, surveying your destroyed hands. “And I’ll patch you up. Then… I think you’ve earned yourself an early bedtime for the rest of the week, bud.”

“Oh, kiddo. Do you know what “screwing up” is? After this, they’re gonna put your picture in the dictionary as an example.”

Macaque does not tolerate having hands laid on him. Not by friends, not by enemies. And certainly not by his little student, who is supposed to be wide-eyed and placid, in awe of his every move and strike.

You are supposed to be sweet and respectful. You are supposed to be kind and loving.

And he’s sure that with a little bit of “training”, he’ll get you back to that disposition.

He’ll snap his fingers with an angry snarl, shadows springing all around you like cold wires. You are gagged with a cold ebon muzzle, both your hands locked inside a cuff of swirling black and purple. You want to act like an animal? Macaque will chain you to the wall by your new muzzle and treat you like an animal.

Maybe a few days spent so on a chain so short you can’t lay down will teach you better than to raise a hand against “the only person who even loves you, Y/N!” ever again.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere Lego Monkie Kid #Yandere LMK #Yandere Demon Bull King #Yandere Red Son #Yandere Princess Iron Fan #Yandere MK #Yandere Sun Wukong #Yandere Macaque #TW: Abuse #TW: Physical Abuse #Macaque’s final section is a reference to how ‘pet’ and ‘circus’ monkeys are taught to stand up

[k-n0-x]

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗

Student President’s Secret

╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩��̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

Well, This is more of a spicier nsfw fic of Wriothesley x fem reader, of a quick hook up with Wriothesley and y/n as a belated Valentine’s Day gift from me. Sorry for the lateness, we’re about to have exams, but please take this as some food from me 😍😍😍

Note: Art not made by me! Credits: @_jqwe on twt

Enjoy~ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

🎴❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦🎴

As student body president, with excellent grades and smart demeanour, if anyone found out you were hooking up with school delinquent Wriothesley, your reputation would be tarnished. Though, as tough and troublemaking Wriothesley is, he is such a sweetheart to you. It’s pitch dark out, and you’re doing your homework in your dorm when there’s a soft knock on your door. You go and open it.

“Hey!” He stands in the door way.

“Hi,” you look out into the hallway and make sure no one is lurking in the shadows.

When you see that there is no imminent danger of getting caught, you close the door and sigh.

“You know you should be very careful! At least let me know when you’re gonna drop around! You’re so reckless sometimes” Y/n looks up at Wriothesley with a scowl.

Though you were slightly taller than the average female, you were like a troll compared to Wriothesley’s staggering frame.

“So what? Anyway, they took away my phone during class today” His voice is slightly deep and husky, which you would have payed attention to if you’d didn’t see something sticking out of his back pocket…

“YOU LIAR-” you take the phone out of his pocket. “If you’re gonna lie, atleast be slick about it,”

“Baby, I’m sorry, I’m just messing about,” He gives you a kiss and takes the phone gently from your hand. He turns to your desk, which has a lowly dimmed lamp, and your studying notes scattered on the desk.

“Whatcha studying”

“Human anatomy” You sigh. “It’s kinda boring though”

“Hm. Interesting…” Wriothesley stares you up and down, something in his trouble making mind brews. He is feeling a bit playful and sees you clearly need one way to destress. He nuzzles into your shoulder.

“Well, how about you relax for a moment?” His big rough hands gently move downwards to your cunt, moving his digits in a circular motion, tracing around it, causing you to wetten already

It was either you were sensitive in that way, or he just had this sexually heated power over you.

“Only of course,” He moves the placement of his hand in a more appropriate place,

“If you want,”

Despite the school delinquent, he really knows how to treat a lady well. You nod. You’ve been looking forward to having your legs broken because of Wriothesley for a while now.

He turns you around to face him and he pushes you up against the wall and messily kisses you. He hoists you up in his arms like a sack a feathers and your bodies melt together, following each other movements so synchronised, it could have been a performance at a theatre.

Which, in a way, it was.

The room gets steamy and the two of you were lost in each other, in a drunken high of euphoria. It wasn’t long until Wriothesley’s shaft starts to perk up and harden rock solid.

He tosses you on the bed and starts to grind his hard cock against your wet cunt seeping through your sweatpants, which causes you to moan, arching your back.

Wriothesley then proceeds to pull down your pants and his and he gently starts to tease your clit, rubbing his tip around the entrance, which entices you to let out little whimpers, practically begging for him to go deeper and rougher.

Which, he happily does.

Though, slowly he moves in and out of you at first, his speed progresses and he begins to slam his cock into your weeping hole, which causes you to moan in ecstasy, leaning your head back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Each slam causes your cunt to wrap itself around his dick even tighter, your hands in his black hair while you pull him close and kiss him.

Your bodies are intertwined in an intimate way, rocking back and forth in motion.

This stimulating act of love induces you to reach your climax

“Wrio, I’m about to-,”

The Delinquent shushes you. “It’s okay, let it all out~”

He still relentlessly abuses your pussy, which has already been leaking.

He pulls out, and for good measure teases your cunt with his fingers, drenching your bed with your own orgasm. You shiver with pleasure, with the all too familiar feeling pain in your legs.

It was sore, but it felt so good.

Wriothesley gives you a peck on the cheek.

“Now that I’ve been quite the bad boy, let me take care of you. What tea would you like?”

🎴❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦🎴

#wriothesely x reader #wriothesley #not safe fw #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #aftercare #school #valentines day #happy valentine's day #orgasim #finger my pussy

[sassy-cass-16]

man. the locked tomb is so funny and so full of memes and so beautiful and sometimes it just hits me that it's also so fucking sad.

gideon and harrow spent their entire childhoods hating each other for no reason. they never had to hate each other. harrow had gideon's blood on her hands when she opened the tomb and lost her entire family and it was all for no reason. just because gideon had no one to stick up for her. and when they were both orphans they couldn't even talk to each other about it. because they hated each other.

gideon fell so in love with harrow that she died for her and then harrow spent an entire year pretending she didn't exist just so she wouldn't lose her forever. gideon literally tells harrow's story for her and takes such reverent care of her body for the short time she's in it. gideon first saw her own father through harrow's eyes and called him Lord.

and john. and john is terrible. and he is so human that he becomes terrible. he breaks down weeping because no one else in the entire universe will ever understand his jokes again. he lost everything and he is the only one who even remembers the thing that was lost. he is so completely ordinary that you almost feel like you can't blame him for everything he's done but he is terrible. he let his friends die over and over and over again and he wants to wipe everything clean and start over and he is a man who has gone so completely insane from loneliness that he's circled back around to seeming horribly normal.

he greets his daughter with a dad joke and names her as best he can and gives her a title and a body with speed holes that help her go fast. and he's not malicious. and he's not good. you can't even really call him a villain--what the hell else was he supposed to do? in any of these circumstances? but he is trying his best and his best is simply not good enough. the true horror of god is that he is just human.

all the lyctors. all the lyctors are a tragedy in their own rights. augustine and mercymorn are just the two examples that we know the most about, and their own god/father/brother/lover/beloved/teacher killed them both.

(admittedly, mercymorn struck first. admittedly, john was defending himself and his entire empire. admittedly, it was ianthe's choice to save john in the river that killed augustine. less than an hour before that, augustine was apologizing for raising his voice and john told him to have a cigarette and do you see what i mean about it being hard to blame john for anything?)

and the whole concept of the fourth house in general. we don't talk about that enough. that is almost an entire planet's worth of child soldiers, from what little information we have. what does it say about ulysses and titania that they were the ones to found that house? isaac was thirteen. jeannemary was fourteen. they were expected to become full lyctors before isaac's voice had even dropped. there was no way they could make it off canaan house alive. these kids were doomed.

protesilaus ebdoma had a wife and kids. his wife's name is mia and she probably has no idea what actually happened to him. same with abigail's brother and nephew. corona and ianthe's parents must be losing their shit--they think their eldest daughter is dead and their younger one is now a fucking Saint with a gold skeleton arm.

that's not even getting into alecto. or nona. or camilla and palamedes and paul. this series is so fucking sad even without getting into the revelation that all the lyctors are slowly merging with their cavaliers.

#tlt #tlt spoilers #gideon the ninth #the locked tomb #the locked tomb spoilers #john gaius #gtn spoilers #htn spoilers #ntn spoilers #tug spoilers #the unwanted guest #god why does this series require so many tags

[autisticlancemcclain]

He walks in on Keith, alcohol-soaked rag clutched in his hand, elbow pressed against the wall to try to reach the weeping wound in the middle of his back. He hadn’t been called, or invited, but had instead used the lock code Keith had muttered at him weeks ago, quiet and plasticly casual in a way that told Lance the gesture was anything but.

He doesn’t wait for an invitation now, wordlessly padding forward and prying the rag from Keith’s crooked fingers, pressing it to the wound. Keith does not flinch or tense, but there is a volatility to the air that makes Lance hold his breath without realizing.

“I’m tough,” Keith whispers, forehead pressed to the wall. His eyes are nearly shut, open only a sliver, and he breathes heavily through his mouth, measured and controlled.

Lance nods. He leaves one hand on the arch of Keith’s left shoulder, using the other to squeeze out the rag into a bucket, blood turning the water pink. He presses the newly strained fabric to the inflamed, sliced skin, and this time Keith inhales sharply, back tensing at the sound of it ringing through the room. Lance doesn’t move, only keeps the rag where it is, applying pressure.

“I know you are.”

“I can take care of myself.”

The bleeding has slowed to something much more manageable, so Lance takes the rag off entirely, tossing it into the bucket with a splash. He returns his fingers to Keith’s heated skin, tracing down the ridges of his spine, the bulges of his trapezius, the raised flesh of his scars. He circles the edge of the wound, mapping the soreness, noting the hitch in Keith’s breath, the jump and twitch of his muscles. He’ll need stitches. Ten, twelve of them, probably. And salve will need to be applied hourly, bandages changed four times a day. This will be a high maintenance injury. He cannot reach it.

He wonders how many of the raised, brutal scars on the Black Paladin’s back are from wounds exactly like this, before Lance knew the lockpad password, before Lance learned to suture, before Lance thought to follow him after missions. Before Lance.

“You have,” he says, instead of that. “You still do. You always will.” He swallows. His hands rest flat-palmed against the wideness of his shoulders, burning through the heat of his skin. “I’ve just joined in, too. Now we take care of each other.”

Keith is frozen, unmoving. The only sounds are his breaths, heavy and slow, and the creak of his jaw as he grinds his teeth.

“You never let me.”

“What?”

Keith turns his neck slightly, looking over his shoulder. He doesn’t look at Lance so much as look to the side of him. “Take care of you.” A beat of silence. “I’m never allowed.”

“I let you,” Lance says quietly. “I always let you fix me up when something hits me.”

“I’m not talking about that.”

Lance heart pounds. Instead of answering, he quickly withdraws his hands, walking over to Keith’s dresser and busying himself with gathering supplies, picking through the first aid kit. He takes his time counting out sutures, a needle, sterilizer, bandages, a belt for him to bite down on in absence of numbing cream. He can feel Keith’s eyes on him, burning the back of his neck, as the seconds and minutes tick by.

He keeps his head down as he turns around with his armful of supplies, sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor and organizing all the equipment, lining it up so it’s perfectly straight. After several minutes Keith joins him, sitting gingerly in front of him with his back turned.

Lance starts with gauze, drying up the wound, soaking up the last surges of blood. He presses until he can no longer feel the burning heat of it pooling into his hand, then he pulls on gloves, tying the suture to the needle. He nudges the belt towards Keith with his foot.

Keith grabs it, pulling it slowly towards him, and holds it loosely in his hands, draped over his lap.

“You were angry at me last night,” he says softly. “After. You pulled away and locked yourself in the bathroom and didn’t come out until you thought I was asleep.”

“I was just showering off,” Lance says shortly.

“You weren’t.” Keith fiddles with the buckle. “There wasn’t any steam coming through the door. You just turned the sink on. I heard you crying, anyway.”

Lance’s hands shake. He clenches them into fists, squeezing until they still, blinking the sting out of his eyes.

Keith lifts the belt up to his mouth, long ends extending behind him like the reign of a work horse. Water condenses on the leather of the belt from the heat of his exhales, millimeters from his mouth. “I know it was because — because I was far away. In my head. I wasn’t — I wasn’t vulnerable.”

The end of his sentence hangs in the air, like a discordant note, in unfinished chord. He finally takes the belt in his mouth and bites, clenching it between his teeth, steadying himself for the sharp pain. Lance forces his hands to move, to slide the point of the needle through red flesh, curve it through torn muscle and sluggishly leaking veins. He loses himself in the sutures, tying one, two, ten. He second he ties off the final stitch, he hears a clink, and the leather belt slides off Keith’s shoulders as he unclenches his teeth, dropping the belt from his jaw.

“You aren’t vulnerable with me, either.” He shifts, pulling away from Lance’s frozen hands. “You keep things locked to your chest. It’s like you have to force yourself every time you touch me.”

Lance swallows. It doesn’t touch the dryness of his throat.

“I react badly to being loved,” Keith says when Lance can’t bring himself to speak. “That’s why I — pulled away.”

“You pushed me away,” Lance corrects. His voice is so quiet it rasps the inside of his throat. “Not — not pulled.”

Keith winces. “Yeah.”

Lance’s hands shake again. He wants to put them on Keith’s skin again so badly. Like a magnet, almost. He glances at the bandages, weighing the weight of the excuse they offer.

“It’s okay,” he starts shakily, stretching the bandages across Keith’s torso, lingering on his chest, his shoulders, his ribs. “For people to — for me, to like the things you’re way too hard on yourself for.” He inhales quickly and forces the rest of the sentiment out, even though it’s humiliating, even though it will cost him. “I like your brashness.”

His face is to Keith’s back, but he can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah?”

“Yes. It’s — charming. It comes from your protectiveness, I think, and I like the thought of that. Of your protection, I mean.”

Keith doesn’t say anything for a moment. Lance can’t read him, can’t guess his thoughts, and he feels like a flayed heart in his openness.

“I like your competitive streak,” Keith says softly. Fondly.

Lance blinks in surprise. “You like my — you like that I’m stubborn?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

Lance isn’t the only one who likes the ugly parts, then.

“Can we start over?” Keith asks timidly, after Lance has wrapped his wound tightly, after he has turned to face him, but still looks slightly away. After they sit inches apart, refusing to touch, itching to make contact. “I want to — be vulnerable.” He speaks the words as if they hurt on their way out of him. “I want to do this together.”

Lance shudders, eyes closing without his permission.

Together — that’s all he’s ever wanted. Equal footing with Keith. All he has ever wanted was for Keith to want and crave him as badly and he does, and apparently he —

Apparently, Keith likes him when he’s stubborn, when he is argumentative and frustrating and annoying. Keith wants him then.

“Yes,” Lance says quickly. “Together.”

———

based on this post

#i love writing these kinds of fic i never know where they bubble up from #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #klangst #hurt comfort #hurt/comfort #langst #keith angst #hurt keith #hurt lance #my writing #longpost #fic #fic fragment #established klance #secret relationship #black paladin keith #red paladin lance

[hyunverse]

elise ‧₊˚✩彡 lee felix

brother’s best friend!lee felix x reader. genre — fluff. just fluff. so much fluff wc — 1471 words. about — in which you and felix are just hopelessly in love with each other. note — a drabble for my 4k event! the song is elise by the greeting committee

“I’m outside,” the text reads.

It doesn’t matter that you get this variation of text almost every night. You’ll squeal every time. You’ll grab the hoodie by your coat rack and put it on, then sneak out through your window every time. You’ll get in his car and kiss him hello every time. Every single time. You’re weak for him and he knows it — loves it. Felix loves the way you’ll get into his car with a sheepish smile, grinning even more when you spot him smiling up at you too. 

You couldn’t be happier to climb out of your window, his sweatshirt hugging your body and providing you warmth. With one foot already outside the window, you look back to your door to double-check the door lock. You nod once you see that it’s already locked, proceeding to climb out to the tree beside your window, careful as to not make any noise.

You’re not supposed to be outside after dinner. A curfew your family have set for you — the princess of the family. You’ve argued multiple times with your mother about the curfew set, saying that it’s unfair that Hyunjin, your older brother’s curfew is one hour later than yours — which your mother has argued back by saying that he’s older than you, albeit only a year older. It’s annoying, being a college student with an overprotective family. 

Hence why you sneak out every time Felix wants to take you out on a midnight drive. For one, it’s past your curfew and secondly, you’re not supposed to be dating Felix — your brother’s best friend. Dating is already one thing, you’re still Hyunjin’s five-year-old little sibling in his eyes, but dating his best friend? If he finds out, his head would probably fall off from whiplash. 

“Hi,” you softly greet him as soon as you open his car door, “I missed you.”

“Hello there,” he greets back, turning to face you, “climb in, pretty.” 

One of his hands stays on his steering wheel, the other on his gear stick. Felix’s brown hair is messy, the side of his face glowing from the street lamp he parked his car under. You can see his freckles better under the fluorescent light, you have to hold back from immediately grabbing his face and littering kisses on each freckle. Not that he’d mind if you did.

You climb into the car, shutting the door close behind you. No time is wasted as you inch closer to kiss his cheek, earning a satisfied sigh from him. Like routine, he then drives off to somewhere else — somewhere none of your family members can catch you being outside past your curfew, somewhere Hyunjin won’t catch you making out with his best friend in the backseat of a BMW.

“You look so pretty,” Felix says the moment the two of you are seated in the backseat.

It’s cold. And dark — but none of that mattered when you’re with Felix. A paper bag of McDonalds sits on the front passenger seat as the two of you sit at the back, holding onto each other for dear life. Felix is glued onto your side, his head resting at the side of your neck. You can smell his coconut shampoo, his cologne and vanilla ice cream — he reeks of familiarity and you love it. You love everything about him, from the constellation-shaped freckles on his complexion to the depth of his voice as he speaks love mantras into your skin. 

“You’re prettier,” you whisper back, as if he would break if you were any louder, “I don’t know what it is but you look extra prettier at night.” 

He laughs. The sound makes you want to weep. 

“That’s so back-handed, baby. It’s like you’re saying I’m pretty when you can’t see me well.”

You scoff, “that’s not what I mean! It’s just. . . the night light makes you glow in a different way. Or maybe it’s because you always have messy hair at night. . . it’s cute.”

Felix hums, then takes your hand into his. The moment he feels how cold your skin is, he clasps another hand on top of yours, warming it up by brushing them together. You take it as an opportunity to inch impossibly closer to his body, to the point where all you could smell is his coconut shampoo. He leans back against your body, before dropping your hand to wrap an arm around your waist.

“How has your mother never caught you sneaking out, hm?”

“No idea. Guess the world’s just on my side lately.”

“The things you do for me, love,” he chuckles, “love you so much. You know that, right?”

“I know. You’re worth everything ever, Lix.”

He feels like crying at the statement. But he doesn’t — instead, he closes the gap between you two with a kiss. A needy kiss. A hurried kiss. A kiss which screams his desperation and his love for you, one that’s breathless and passionate. 

“Love you, love you so much,” he chants between kisses, having to pull away so often from his eagerness.

You pull away after a while, resting your forehead against his. 

“You’ll be the death of me, Lix, swear to god.”

“Mm,” he hums, “hey. Wanna do something a little crazy?”

“Depends on how crazy it is,” you raise an eyebrow, “what do you have in mind?”

God, the things you do for him.

Upon parking his car somewhere secluded — far away from your family’s peripheral vision, you two end up climbing into the comfort of your bedroom. Felix’s idea of something crazy is letting him stay over for a night at your house, knowing full well that you’re dead if you get caught. Especially if it’s your brother who catches the two of you — you shudder at the thought of him questioning Felix’s intentions or some sappy shit like that. 

“You haven’t made your bed from last time,” Felix points out, “the side I slept on is still messy.”

He plops down onto the bed, causing it to bounce a little. The last time you didn’t follow your family on a vacation, you had invited Felix to sleep over. It was roughly a week ago, and you haven’t made his side of the bed ever since. You left it messy, serving as a reminder that he once laid there, tangled in your sheets and your limbs. You like it that way.

“Mm,” you hum, taking off your sweatshirt and hanging it on your coat rack, “makes me think of you every night.”

Your boyfriend’s gaze softens at your statement.

“You know, if we get caught, it’s all your fault.”

He shrugs, “so? What are you going to do then? Spank me?”

“Ha-ha. Very funny, Yongbok.”

He laughs at your eye roll, before patting his side, inviting you.

“Come on, lay with me.”

You do as he says, falling onto your bed and into his arm. Your breath fans against his skin when you hide your face in the crook of his neck, your voice low as you start a conversation. 

It’s meaningless pillow talk, yet meaningful at the same time.  He knows he won’t remember the entire conversation tomorrow, but the small details will definitely stick. Details like what you saw at a jewellery store which you really liked, and a song that has been stuck in your brain lately. 

Something about your company makes him sleepy. In a good way — not in a way where you bore him, absolutely not — but in a way where Felix feels entirely comfortable around you. He could strip himself off any shield and let you see him in all his vulnerability, but he knows it’ll be okay. That he’s safe. The sound of your voice talking about something along the lines of a tv show you’ve been hooked on all week slowly lulls him to sleep. Soon, he could feel his eyelids getting heavy.

“Lix?” you look up at his face, “sleepy?”

“Yeah,” he replies absent-mindedly, “let’s sleep.”

“Okay,” you utter, getting up to turn off the lights. A few groans elicit from his lips when you slip out of his grip, which you chuckle at. One thing you’ve learned about Felix is that he gets especially needy when sleepy.

“Come to bed quickly,” he demands, “want you.”

“Trying my best here, baby.”

“You know I love you a lot, right?” you hear him speak the moment you get back into the duvets beside him.

You could only hum, too overwhelmed by adoration to reply with full sentences. The duvet shifts as Felix adjusts his body to get closer to your figure. His eyes are still shut, breathing steadily and whispering absent-mindedly. 

“So thankful I’ve got you,” the brunette whispers again, “you make my hard days easier, pretty.”

With a chaste kiss onto your lips, Felix falls asleep. 

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#k-labels #felix x reader #felix x you #felix x y/n #lee felix imagines #lee felix x reader #lee felix oneshots #lee felix drabbles #lee felix fluff #felix fluff #felix oneshots #felix imagines #felix drabbles #felix fanfic #lee felix fanfics #felix scenarios #lee felix scenarios #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #rin.delivers!