#you’d think I’d be mad

[thewierdbookworm]

😣😣😣

#personal #about me #fuck #fuck this shit #me dolió and I don’t know how to over think #podré ser muchas cosas pero no ladrona #like I don’t know what to do #no hice nada #pero se siente culero que te acusen #it hurts #part of me wishes I could tell to pero pos no #like who do I tell #my anxiety went 📈 #I’m overthinking #you’d think I’d be mad #I’m sad more than anything

[youngyoo-apologist]

OG Choi Han they could never make me hate you cause if some random rich boy was yelling at me and telling me my family deserved to die like a day after it happened and all I wanted was to know how I could get help I’d beat him up too

This plus the added fact that the Harris Village people were the first people to take Choi Han in and take care of him after years and years in the dark forest. Like he’s obviously not going to be mentally stable after all that, and he was so young when everything happened to him like I cannot blame him at all. I don’t think I can ever hate OG Choi Han like ever, he’s flawed, he has problems, but I love him dearly. He deserves the world. This kid who had to fight for his life, was taken away from his family, and in the process had to give up parts of his own humanity to survive, and like went to war two years later, they could never make me hate u OG Choi Han…

Like yeah violence is bad I guess but OG Cale had it coming(saying this as an OG Cale fan, I love him, but he was mean as hell when he was younger!)

If I’m honest, I think they were both in the wrong to an extent. Like OG Cale shouldn’t have said all that no matter the circumstances, and OG Choi Han shouldn’t have beaten him up so much. But u say mean shit and you get hit, that is how it will work when you’re talking to the guy who just saw his entire village get murdered like idkkkk man

I understand where OG Cale was coming from, but he had many issues and while he wasn’t an awful person, he was capable of doing bad things because of his own internalized pain and emotions that he never got to properly process because of his emotionally distant childhood and relationship with his father who should have been there for him more when he was younger.

Okay speaking of his childhood, Deruth isn’t the WORST father in the world but there are a lot of things he could have done better. I think a lot of Deruth’s flaws come from his fear of failure and messing up. He’s scared of doing the wrong thing, and so he sticks to doing what he knows and using what he knows best. That’s why he uses his money, that’s why gift giving is his way of showing affection, he knows that it is one thing he cannot mess up.

The problem is that money and gifts is NOT what OG Cale needed. I think what that guy needed the most was a parent who wasn’t afraid to talk to him, to ask him questions. Not to say that Deruth gave up on OG Cale, but I think in a way he gave up on OG Cale by giving up on himself. Deruth didn’t trust himself to have the capabilities to talk to OG Cale, which is why he never did. It’s because that Deruth was scared, and didn’t trust himself, that he could never face OG Cale

If Deruth was able to trust himself a little more, and pull himself together, I don’t think OG Cale would have turned out the way he did. As a kid, he probably thought the only way he could help his family without relying on anyone(no doubt this whole ‘I have to do it myself’ thing came from the fact that he couldn’t rely on his father when his mom died, and instead was acting as a pillar of support for his father when it should have been the other way around) was to sabotage himself, the only heir. If he was shown to be unfit to be heir, then everyone else would have no choice but to direct their hatred towards him instead of his family.

If Deruth had talked to his son at least ONCE when he was a kid, asking him why he was upset or why he did the things he did, I think OG Cale would have told him. Why? Because he’s a kid!! A kid will obviously want to rely on his father, if he just had one sign telling him that he didn’t have to do it alone I’m 90% sure OG Cale would have said something.

Basically, while Deruth isn’t the worst father, he’s not really a great father either. I think he does do his best, but he has issues with communication lol

OG Cale and OG Choi Han are both complex characters and had their own reasons to behave the way they did. The thing is with people is that they’re complicated and have layers, so the situation with them would have layers behind it as well with multiple co-existing truths and stuff

#guys I’m a big fan of Choi Han #and I get sad when people bring up this scene and all the blame is on him #like okay he was wrong but if YOU saw your entire family dead and some random rich boy started yelling abt how their lives were worthless #you’d be mad too no? #like his feelinsg were totally justified cause OG Cale was REALLY mean in that scene #‘their lives are worth less than the bottle in my hand’ OHHHHH OKAY OG CALE THATS ENOUGH THATS ENOUGHHHH #I love OG Cale but u have to admit he wasn’t very nice when he was younger #like the statements ‘he had his reasons’ ‘being trash was an act’ ‘he wasn’t a bad person’ ‘but he did say bad things’ can co exist #yes being trash was an act but he is ALSO capable of saying mean things and things that are wrong #LIKE TELLING THE GUY WHO JUST GOT HIS FAMILY MURDERED THAT THEIR LIVES WERE WORTHLESS #HE WAS NOT INNOCENT FOR THAT #Younger OG Cale is not a black and white character #and neither is older OG Cale but this post isn’t abt him #okay I’m gonna bring up someone who isn’t from TCF #but take Eunyung Baek from no home as an example okay #eunyung did bad things and was a bad person because of his childhood right #the reasons to being a bad person do not take away the bad things he did #but just cause he did bad things and was capable of them did not mean he could not change #I love OG Cale a LOT and I just think that his character has a lot behind it #Older OG Cale is obviously very different from his younger self #years and years of war and tragedy have matured him and like he’s not the same person he was anymore #okay back to Choi Han I love that guy I will defend him with my life #beating up people is wrong yeah but with the circumstances I’d say OG Cale had it coming #like okay it would be different if it was unprovoked but it was very much provoked #I swear I love OG Cale I just think he was very wrong for that #not to say he can’t change or isn’t capable of change he definitely is #idk I guess my point is that OG Cale was wrong but he changed as a person #and OG Choi Han was wrong for beating him up so much but it wasn’t unjustifiable #tcf #lcf

[parasite-core]

Shadowheart was so mad at Addy over finding out he was the one who started the cult of the Absolute, and for him not telling them. Even though Addy didn’t know before just then either. And they all know he has amnesia and he made no secret of this being a surprise to him while talking to Gortash.

Shadowheart, my girl, *you* have amnesia, have a little empathy.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #Adramelek didn’t even agree to join Gortash like come on how much better could he have done? #as much as I love Durge x Gortash #Addy cares about Karlach too much to let Gortash get away with what he did to her #so unlike Calio Addy is not going to take him up on his offer #he is going to destroy the Iron Watch and then come for the Tyrant’s head #this is not anti-Shadowheart btw I love SH to death #I’m just baffled by her reaction in this particular instance #like no one else in the party was mad at Addy #if more people were mad I’d be like ‘okay it’s a party-wide thing which sucks but it is what it is’ #but it was only SH who yelled at me #the other person with amnesia who you’d think would be sympathetic to me learning something that horrific about my past #when Addy has been consistently trying to be a good person ever since being ordered to kill Isobel and refusing #like he is *clearly* not that person anymore and he has been very open about everything he does remember when it comes up #she was the second person he told about remembering he was a Bahaalspawn despite that being a dangerous thing to admit #I’m just really baffled by this writing choice I guess

[skhardwarevers1]

Goood morning!!!!! it’s Saturday!!!! chill out and do nothing !!!! unless you have something to do, do that but don’t let it stress you!!!! Things to do are part of life, can’t avoid them might as well try to look forward to them!

#Or maybe look forward to getting them over with….you could do that too if it’s something so dreadful you’d rather not #I used to HATE going to track practice and like. Doing it. #I kid you not! It was the worst! I’d cut corners and complain all practice #And it was a MISERABLE season for me #But! This year I actually look forward to being there and doing the work #I give it my all! Even when I hate it! When the other girls around me are down in the dumps over track I’m higher than ever! #Wanna know why? #Because believe it or not track got 20x more enjoyable when I started looking forward to it rather than dreading it #I’m EXCITED to go do 3x160s and carry mad balls and do starts! #I’m EXCITED to do all the things I hated last year! Because they’re helping me and they’re actually FUN! #Letting yourself enjoy something that seems like a lot of work or dreadful or smth like that actually makes it a lot more fun #And I have followed that philosophy since the start of track this year #I actually get a little mad when girls complain or try to cut the workouts because they’re being so negative for no reason! #Okay anecdote over bye bye ^_^ #S.K thinks

[wacky-nameless-inventor-24]

idk why but I’m never able to draw Topolino Mads’ hair the right way the first time? Every drawing you see of mine of him that’s my 103597939285th try doing his hair.

#Which is fine when I’m doing it digitally but. Just started some traditional ones and. #anger rage pain suffering etc. #mad ducktor #wacky’s soliloquies #you’d think I’d know how to seeing as I have to draw it so many times for one drawing of him #But no

[omtai]

i think perhaps someone cursed me to have fucked up sleeping patterns forever (me from going to bed at fucked up times)

#no but seriously. How do i go to bed at 9:30am one day. and wake up at 5pm. #and then i don’t go bed the day after that until 10pm. #And you’d think i’d be getting lots of sleep right. #But instead i wake up at 4am. #and then can’t get back to sleep ?! #Stop this madness #Stop this!!!!!!!

[boomerang109]

#hey I am a chronically in pain person who pushes themself too far and then gets mad they have to skip things #but I *think* i don’t actually miss my job/school very much considering how unwell I am #so I would love to know how often other people are unwell #also if you only miss stuff every so often but are sick much more often (IN A NON DANGEROUS WAY PLEASE DONT SHARE IF YOURE INFECTINF PEOPLE) #I’d love if you’d reblog and share that! #but yeah the majority of my friends are either confirmed chronically ill/disabled or im like ‘x-thing about you isn’t normal’ so I feel like #my view of attendance to school and whatever is NOT normal #but then my job doesn’t expect us to miss ANYTHINF and it’s weird af #life of a boomerang

[freakylilnutjob]

not my father saying he doesn’t want to be the dad that treats his kids the way he was treated after getting butt hurt because I didn’t tell him I got a tattoo ✋💀

#sir… #he told my mom ‘did she think I’d be mad?’ #UMM YEAH #you mocked me for crying when you’d yell at me #you yell when I don’t bring you something fast enough #you literally throw pots and pans around the kitchen when you get upset #you also told me you thought anyone with a tattoo was stupid #like… #OF COURSE ID THINK YOU’D BE MAD #and like good sentiment with the treating the kids better thing but like twenty five years too fucking late #the damage is done sir #and it’s detrimental #like too little too late #I guess good on you for starting to be self aware #if all I had to do was get a tattoo then I’d have done this shit a long time ago 😭 #sav speaks

[afieldinengland]

.

#sometimes i do wonder why people aren’t crueller to me. i’d deserve it you know….. i don’t know. is that silly? #i just think. people are so gentle with me when really i deserve to be wounded a little more than i am #not that i’d want to be. i have been. but it’s what i deserve what i want doesn’t really feature #it’s absurd. i don’t know. i just….. sometimes i wonder why people are so good to me #only lamb in the world that deserves a good hard smack rather than a caress. i don’t know. #if i could open my head and show you you’d understand why i feel i deserve only cruelty. but i can’t #i don’t want to sound selfish. please don’t say that i know i’m just like anyone else. that’s not my point #it means the world to me when people are gentle. makes me tear up. because i don’t deserve it #why are people so good to me when i’m frightened? why are people so sweet and romantic to me about my looks my talk my mad beliefs #really i should still be being forced about. i should be bruised and criticised. i don’t want to be— it terrifie(s/d) me— but. look at me. #if the world were reasonable i wouldn’t get a ‘no’ and i’d be bleeding from the nose right now. but i’m being handled gently and it still #dizzies me a little. surely people ought to be cruel to me? look at me. i’m unbearable

[gottarunfromthelaw]

I think god should chew me up like gum and then put me on a tree

#the thing vents #does this make sense #probably not #but also I’m in so much pain and I hate what I am #like not in a I wish I were dead way #and more in I wish I could do more/actually do shit way #a huge part of it is pain #another part of it is agonizing fear and hate #which you’d think after like ten years of it I’d chill out but not really #this isn’t that serious I’m just mad I’m not doing art like always #and the only reason I’m thinking about it is because I’m in so much pain rgat I can’t sleep #yaaaay #I hope one day I can go to a doctor #typing is actually really painful #like this really really hurts #i wish I could go to sleep

[actuallylight]

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCK

@moremoremisa please front I’m so sorry

#light speaks #context: it was L misa and i’s anniversary yesterday. and i forgot #i don’t know how girls work. she’s mad about it #do i get her flowers??? #you’d think that i’d know this stuff as the host of a female body #fuckkkk #we all just got over a rough patch too #sigh. dating is difficult. girls are difficult. #L is somehow easier to understand #idk. #it’s literally our phone password i have no idea how i forgot

[emmyrosee]

“Baby, I promise I was kidding.”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Rintaro.”

“‘Rintaro?’ Baby, it was a joke! If I knew it would actually make you upset, I wouldn’t have done it.”

Your eyes are watery and pouty when you look at him, and he blinks down at you expectantly. Then you huff, “of course I’m upset! It’s a sign of disrespect.”

Rintaro groans and squats down in front of you, head moving back and forth to keep his eyes locked on yours as you try to move your own gaze, “baby, I swear, I didn’t mean it, I thought it would make you laugh.”

He never thought hitting your Pompurin plush would have you in such shambles. You’ve been ignoring him all ride with a small grimace on your lips, playing with Pompurin’s arms and tiny feet, sometimes answering questions about what’s on the tag. You’re deadset on ignoring him. It’s destroying him.

With a small sigh, he leans up to try and plant a kiss to your lips, despite the fact that the last thing he’d think you’d want is a kiss. It’s something he knows you adore, though, he hopes you see through your anger to see him.

You do pout out slightly to try and chase his lips, and it fills him with relief.

“It was pretend, baby,” he mumbles, trying to convince you. “I’d never mean to hit him, I was pretending to be mad that he’d take you away from me.”

Well. It was only half pretend.

But you don’t need to know that.

You gently twist pompurin’s ears in your fingers, shrugging and shaking your face from his hands slightly. “You hurt my feelings Rin.”

Once again, he grabs your chin, leaning up to press another kiss to your lips. “I know, baby. I thought it’d be funny.”

“Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m so sorry-“

“Not to me,” you grumble. “To him!” You hold up the new pompurin plush, and Rintaro tucks his lips in his mouth to hide the annoyed sigh that wants to slip out.

Annoyed, albeit still endeared.

Green eyes hyper fixate on the doey eyes of pompurin, smacking his lips and nodding in respect. “I’m sorry, Pompurin. I never should’ve hit you. And I hope you’ll consider forgiving me and taking care of them while I’m at practice.”

In his peripheral, he sees you smile, your fingers shifting to move pompurin’s head to nod.

“Thank you for apologizing,” you say as you lower the new plush animal. “I love you.”

He smirks and leans forward one final time to kiss you, and you giggle in the kiss and toss your arms around his neck.

If he could guarantee you’d always be this affectionate after, he’d playfully smack all your stuffed animals.

#suna rintaro #suna rintaro fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x gn!reader #suna rintaro x reader fluff #suna rintaro imagine #suna rintaro haikyuu #suna #suna fluff #suna x reader #suna x reader fluff #suna x gn!reader #suna imagine #suna haikyuu #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x gn!reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x yn

[dante-mightdie]

A small req? Wheree we're a milf and our incel son eventually joins the military (you choose if he joins the military or meets at a bar I ain't gaf) and meets Ghost, 141 whatever. He brings Ghost home to his basement room(or the 141 bb do whatever you want) and ghost is surprised n shi that we this incel momma when we com with snacks or something like 'get outta here mom you're embarrassing me Infront of my new friends!" Is our sons reaction or sum. And ghostie pookie excuses himself up to the bathroom to sloppily makeout with us 🥺

nobody look at me i’m foaming at the mouth

c/w: simon is kinda strange but in a weird sexy way, mentions of misogyny, talks of sex must no actual smut, housewife kink kinda

it’s no secret that your son is a nasty little misogynistic shit. everyone on base has had the experience of standing next to him on a night as out when he gets a drink thrown in his face by whatever girl is he was chatting to

they’d been there every time he dogs out in front of everyone when you visit him on base. watching your eyes well up when your son tells you that he doesn’t like your new haircut or dress, that you’re too old to wear stuff like that

simon tried not to judge, appearances can be deceiving. perhaps you’re not all smiles and baked goods, maybe you’re an awful mother behind the scenes. he really tried. until he found out the real reason your son treats you like shit…

“she made my dad leave. he told me after they divorced that she wasn’t giving him what he needed, that’s why he had to go and get it somewhere else.” your son finally admitted one night after going through half case of beer

simon felt his hand tighten around his bottle as your son continued to ramble about how you were always busy with shit jobs. waitressing, cleaning or retail. he spent most of his childhood never getting all the latest toys and clothes because you could never afford it, too busy catching up on late bills to make sure there was a roof over both of your heads

“she’s so selfish.”

‘fuck being non-judgmental’ simon thinks. this kid doesn’t know how lucky he is. having a such a lovely mum like you, never losing your patience with your son even when he treats you like dirt. always trying to greet him with a hug or kiss just for him to push you away. begging him to call when he’s away just so you can know your boy is safe :(

“sounds like your mad at your mum for being the one that stuck around, lad.” price buts in, shaking his head with a small laugh.

you had been a topic of discussion the night after your first visit to the base. the product of a few glasses of bourbon shared between simon and john

“did you see the new recruits mother? fuckin’ hell, if I were 10 years younger I’d be all over that.” price admitted, adjusting his hips as he leaned back in his desk chair. simon let out a small grunt of agreement, having thought about this since he first laid eyes on you

simon had come to the conclusion that you both just needed a good man in your life. your son needed a father figure that would actually stick around, he could tell by the way your son looks up to him and the captain, eager to impress them

and you. oh, you. with your sweet, simple dresses and adoring smile. simon wishes you’d smile at him like that. all that cooking that your son lets go to waste could go to him instead. you could cook his favourite dinners for him and take care of his house whilst he’s away at work, whipping the boy into shape. teaching him every thing that your sack of shit ex-husband clearly didn’t

he’d be so good to you too. he knows it’s been a while since you’ve had a man to take care of your needs. he sees the way you nearly drool as you watch him running laps around the field, tatted arms on display. he’d spit you open so nicely on his cock and he knows you’d take him so well too, your pretty cunt would he creaming all over him

he soon takes advantage of this knowledge, subtly convincing your son to invite him over to your home on leave. dropping some story about how his flat is getting some work done and that he only lives 20 minutes from you both. your son was quick to offer the lieutenant a place to stay, telling him that he could take your room. that you could sleep on the couch for a couple weeks.

‘we’ll share the bed.’ simon thinks, but he doesn’t dare say it to your sons face. can’t have this little brat meddling with his plan

his arrival is clearly a surprise to you from the way you rush about shortly afterwards to start scrubbing the house top to bottom, rattling off apologies about the state of everything. simon quickly shuts down any offer of him taking your bedroom

“keep your bed, love. I’ll take the sofa.” he grumbles, sipping the tea that you made for him whilst your son rolls his eyes from the other side of the kitchen

he can see the way your eyes look at him with this longing. he knows it won’t take much to get you into bed. poor thing that hasn’t had anyone to look after her for years

he spends the next few days proving to you that he can provide. helping you carry anything heavy, drying the dishes after you’ve watched them, fixing the handy jobs around the house

you’re constantly praising him, focusing your love and attention towards him instead of your ungrateful son and the boy hates it. which is just the cherry on top, simon thinks

“your mother is so lucky to have a son like you. you must help her around the house all the time!” you coo, fidgeting with your skirt

“my mum passed away… jus’ me left out of the whole family.” simon admits, solemnly

“you poor thing, I’m so sorry. you’re welcome here anytime…” you gasp softly, placing your delicate hand on his arm and squeezing the muscle of his bicep gently and simon is ashamed to say it made his cock twitch against his thigh

“thank you, sweetheart… such a lovely girl, aren’t you?” he smiles behind his mask, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist. he pulls you against him, putting one hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he hoists you up onto the kitchen counter

he squeezes his large frame inbetween your spread legs, leaning forward to look into your widened eyes

“been so good to me, love. taking care of me. such a good mum to your son, ya just need a good man to be a wife to, don’t you?” he says, pushing your skirt up your lap and revealing your thighs to him

he feels your thighs squeeze his waist, an aroused reaction from you. your body slumps into his with a natural submission that makes his cock ache. he lowers his hand and hooks his mask over his nose, revealing the scar running over his lip

“s’alright, darling. ‘m here to look after you now. me, you and the boy will be a nice happy family, yeah?” he says with a small smirk. leaning forward to mould his lips against yours before you can answer

he hears the little whimper you let out as you kiss him back, a little sloppy and inexperienced from years of being single, too busy with your son and work to date

but that’s okay because simon’s here now. ready to claim his family.

#mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley

[yandere-daydreams]

file #2: the amputation fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!gojo satoru x reader (jjk).

length: 2.9k.

warnings: non/con, amputation, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, obsessive behavior, amputation (no injury to reader in fic), handjobs, masturbation, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Babydoll? You wanna let me in?”

A beat of silence, a light knock. You stayed where you were, crumpled on the bathroom floor, and Satoru sighed.

“C’mon, angel. I can’t help from all the way out here.”

You clenched your bloody arm closer, pulling your knees up to your chest. An orange-tinted, half-emptied pill container sat lidless and on its side beside you. Shoko’s pills took care of the worst of the pain, but a steady, persistent throbbing had lodged itself in the knob that used to be your wrist and refused to let-up. It probably wouldn’t for the next hour, if not the next day.

“I can’t take you to see Shoko if you keep me locked out.”

At that, you relented, uncurling with from your self-made bundle. It took a second to shift yourself onto your knees, another to find the doorknob with your remaining hand, but Satoru himself in as soon as the lock clicked out of place. Thankfully, mercifully, he gave you time to skitter back to your corner before crossing the threshold, but that didn’t stop you from withering as his eyes raked over you, as he evaluated the damage. Eventually, he collapsed against the adjacent wall and sunk to the floor, letting out a raspy groan before tossing you a familiar, crooked smile. You didn’t return it. “That mad at me, huh?” You didn’t respond, gaze dropping to your decimated hand – or, rather, the mangled stump that used to be your hand. His smile wavered, but didn’t fall away. “Yeah, no, I probably deserve that. Does it hurt?”

You didn’t indulge him with an answer. “Did you call Shoko?”

“On a mission,” he said with a slight shrug, a strong note of ‘what can you do?’ in his tone. Lole this was some minor inconvenience, annoying but ultimately trivial. Like like you weren’t missing an essential part of yourself. “She said she’d swing by as soon as she’s done, but I’d give it another hour. I think she’ll kill me if I keep asking her to make house calls.”

Another beat of silence, another deafening failure to respond on your part. Finally, he turned to face you properly, leaning forward. “…can I?”

He always did this – paused like that, smiled like that, tried to make himself seem so gentle, so loving, so considerate. It might’ve been well-meaning, an attempt to let you know he was sorry without having to swallow enough of his pride to actually apologize, but all it ever seemed to make you feel was cold and alone, stuck in a shell of an apartment with a shell of a man. It was always the same. It was always going to be the fucking same.

And, like always, you relented, looking away as you nodded stiltedly. Satoru’s smile brightened as he closed the distance between you, his thigh pressing into yours as he settled against your side.

When you’d first gotten into a relationship with Gojo Satoru, you told yourself that if things ever so much as seemed like they might be going south, you were gone. You hadn’t known anything about cursed energy or sorcerer hierarchies or malevolent spirits, but you didn’t have to – even if you hadn’t watched him obliterate monsters the size of apartment buildings with a snap of his fingers, he still would’ve been the strongest person you’d ever met, a man capable of shattering bones with his bare hands and breaking open skulls with all the effort it would’ve taken you to swat a fly out of the air. He was dangerous to be around, even if you doubted Satoru could ever intentionally hurt another living, breathing person. He was rich, and pretty, and strong, and used to getting his way. You loved him, but you needed to be able to leave if it ever seemed like that love was going to put you in danger.

And you did leave. The first time you argued, the first time he lost control of his temper and you were left sobbing on the floor with nothing below your left knee, you’d gotten as far as you could as quickly as you could. It’d taken him a full week to track you down, another to convince you that one of his bizarre friends could heal you, and roughly half a minute of Satoru sobbing and clinging to your (newly restored) leg for you to forgive him, to write it off as an accident – just the kind of risk you took when you got into a relationship with someone who could deadlift armored tanks. The second, you’d stayed at a friend’s place for a few days before coming back on your own, as desperate for his miracle-cure as you were for the pet comforts that came with Satoru’s bottomless fortune. The fourth, you’d barricaded yourself in his bedroom for sixteen hours and only come out for Shoko, who’d muttered about your ‘wreck of a boyfriend’ as she rebuilt the three missing fingers on your right hand.

Now, on the ninth, you’d barely managed to keep him locked out of a bathroom for all of five minutes. It was embarrassing, more than anything. You wanted to be able to hate him, you wanted to be scared of him, but it was hard to be scared of someone you loved. Someone you loved as much as Satoru, especially.

You shook your head, dragging yourself out of your own spiraling thoughts. Your attention, instead, moved to Satoru – still slumped against the tiled wall, his head lulled back and his attention focused pointedly on the ceiling. You were dressed to go out, uncomfortable jeans and all, but Satoru looked like he just rolled out of bed – a plain white shirt pulled tight over his broad chest, a pair of pitch-black sweatpants falling low on his waist, the lights dim enough to mean his piercing blue eyes didn’t have to be locked behind tinted glass or thick fabric. That was what you’d been arguing about, even if it was hard to remember why it’d seemed like such a big deal. He had the day off, no class and no cursed spirits to slaughter, and wanted to waste his morning in bed, with you wrapped in his arms. You’d tried to tell him, as slowly and as tenderly as you could, that you couldn’t, that you had an important early-morning lecture, that you’d be back by the time he actually wanted to get up, but he’d whined and pouted and you’d lost your patience when he reminded you that you could ‘always drop out’. You tried to leave, and he tried to catch your hand, to make you stay for that much longer, and—

“Can I see it?” You were almost thankful to hear his voice, if only for the distraction. “Your hand, I mean. If you’re comfortable with showing me.”

You weren’t, but you were desperate not to sink back into your own head, either. Slowly, cautiously, you shuffled that much closer to him, folding your legs underneath you as you gingerly held out the arm you’d spent the better part of the last few minutes cradling. It made you sick to look at a part of your own body so violently distorted, so violently wrong, so you didn’t – keeping your focus trained on your knees as Satoru took up your shortened limb. His own healing abilities had taken care of the worst of the gore, but even with the open, gaping wound at the end of your arm closed, there was still a ring of bruising around your wrist, streaks of dried blood running down the length of your forearm, a raw quality to the skin where his hap-hazard repairs hadn’t quite taken. His touch was feather-light, skirting around the worst of the remaining damage and lingering near your elbow, then your bicep. Acknowledgement came in the form of a low whistle, an airy sigh. You tried not to let his casualness get to you. Sorcerers must’ve seen injuries like this all the time. This was the end of the world for you, but Satoru would be just fine. “I’m not going to let you lift a finger after this. You know that, right? I’ve gotta make sure my pretty baby’s still nice n’ spoiled, even when I go and fuck everything up.”

It wasn’t an apology, but it was as close as he’d ever get. You grit your teeth and nodded, taking a second to find your voice. Even with the delay, it came out as a croak; almost too low and too ragged to be coherent. “This can’t keep happening, ‘toru. I love you, but this can’t keep happening.”

“I know, baby, I know.” One of his hands remained wrapped around your arm while the other, unoccupied, fell between his open legs. “I don’t mean to. If I had it my way, nobody would be able to touch you, but…” A pause, a laugh. “I just get so stressed out when we start fighting, like that. All I can think about is someone hurting you when I’m not there to keep you safe, and I forget how delicate I’ve gotta be with you. It feels like I’m not in control of myself.”

Despite your better judgement, you felt a deep, churning well of guilt open up inside of you. It was your turn to sigh, now, to slump, to let your eyes fall shut. “I love you,” you repeated, like it was the only thing you knew how to say. “It’s just— It scares me, when you get like that. I know you’re just trying to be protective, but it hurts.”

You heard his breathing pick-up, his grip tighten ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel. “I know, sweetheart. I’m just trying to take care of you.”

“You do take care of me, but—” You were cut off by a breathy swear, a throat groan. Momentarily, your fear and self-loathing gave way to irritation, a frown tugging at the corner of your lips as you opened your eyes and snapped towards Satoru. He was still focused on your arm – what was left of it, at least – but his gaze was glazed over, far away, and his hand was moving between his—

You put it together too quickly, the force of the realization leaving no time for numbing shock or dampening confusion. He was touching himself, grinding the heel of his palm into the base of his cock. You could see the outline of his shaft against the dark material – already half-hard, if not worse.

If you’d been able to feel anything, you might’ve felt sick.

Reflexively, you tried to pull away from him, but his hold on your arm only tightened, fingertips digging into your bicep as Satoru laughed, the sound strained and airy. “Sorry, sorry, my bad. I know you like a head’s up, but…” Now, he looked at you, but it was too late, too much, too sudden. All you could seem to think to do was gape back at him, unmoving and unthinking. “Guess it’s just what you do to me. I’ll try to make it quick – all you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

It was a familiar line, a familiar excuse. You’d heard it a thousand times – mumbled into your neck as draped himself over you in the early hours of the morning, spouted off as he dragged you back to his car halfway through dinner at a restaurant you’d been looking forward to visiting for months – but it didn’t seem to make sense, this time, didn’t fit with the image of your missing hand hovering a few inches above your loving boyfriend’s erection. The dissonance only seemed to get worse, more dizzying as he shrugged the waistband of his sweats past his hips and down to his thighs, freeing his stiff cock. You’d been too generous, before; he was already hard, his tip flushed a dark pink and leaking thick beads of arousal. Again, you tried to get away, and again, he only pulled you closer, until your side was flush against his. There was a deep grunt, a hazy grin as he wrapped a fist around the shaft of his cock, his grip almost painfully tight. His eyes never left the dull stump on the end of your left arm, his raspy breathing soon turning to a deep, heady panting as you watched him pump his fist over his cock, his pace slow and methodical – a far cry from the spontaneous, erratic Satoru you were used to. A soft voice in the back of your mind, awful and treacherous, suggested that he might be trying to savor it, and a dozen more screamed loudly enough to drown it out.

“Satoru,” you said, nearly surprising yourself with how distant you sounded, how detached. You didn’t feel detached. If anything, you almost felt too grounded in the feeling of cool tile against your back, the heat of his body where it pressed into yours. “Please, stop.”

“I don’t really have a choice, babe.” He shot you a playful grin, and for a second, you could almost imagine hating him. “It’d go a lot faster if you helped me out, though.”

You didn’t answer, but he didn’t need you to. His hand was already groping for yours, already forcing your reluctant participation. The position was awkward, your body half-bent over his, but when you shifted, Satoru’s thumb dug into the bone of your wrist and instantly, you went still. This was bad. Not having control of your only remaining hand was bad. But having your only remaining hand taken away from you would be worse.

Satoru didn’t seem to see it that way. Sounds of aching pleasure bubbled past his lips shamelessly, turning the abruptly claustrophobic bathroom into an echo chamber of pitchy whines and raspy groans and the slick, wet clicks of his cock fucking into your balled fist. It was terrible – being able to feel how his cock pulsed against your palm, being forced to acknowledge the little, stilted movements of his hips whenever he decided your (admittedly lackluster) pace left something to be desired. In less than a minute, his head had lulled onto your shoulder, his voice muffled by the proximity as he struggled to speak in spite of his own unabashed moaning. “Love you so much,” he half-mumbled, half-panted. You could feel his breath against your shoulder, his drool starting to pool just above your collarbone. “W-wanna take care of you when you can’t take care of yourself, make sure nobody else ever gets to put their hands on you. I’d be good – cook for you, n’ shower with you, ‘n dress you up all nice n’ pretty,” He paused, nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “You… You wouldn’t hate me that much if we left it that way, right?”

You felt something drop into the pit of your stomach. “Satoru, you’re—”

“Please, baby.” It was the same tone he used when he was begging you to make a late-night snack run with him, or when he wanted to finish inside of you without protection. “Just—Just tell me that you’d let me take care of you. Just say that you’d still love me.”

It felt like your throat was swollen shut, your chest stuffed to bursting with shattered glass and razor blades and spiny needles only just beginning to poke through your skin. You didn’t want to say anything, you didn’t think you could say anything, and yet, when your mouth fell open, you found a voice that was not your own seeping out by means beyond your control. “It’s alright,” you muttered, distantly, as his cock throbbed in your hand. “I’d still love you, ‘toru.”

Although, you were starting to wish you wouldn’t.

You heard him groan, felt something thick and searing spill over the back of your hand. Satoru’s hand, cupped snuggly over yours, kept you moving until every last drop had been milked out of him, until the final ember of his climax had burnt itself out. He went limp against you, his vice-grip finally falling away, but rather than run, you only straightened, wiping your hand on your jeans before tucking it into your lap. How you looked didn’t matter, anymore.  There couldn’t have been more than a few minutes left in your lecture, if you hadn’t already missed it entirely.

Silence interrupted only by panting breaths and the beating, drowning drum playing in your ears reigned over the confined space, keeping you in a state of bleary stasis until the sound of a sharp knock, shortly followed by a distant door opening broke through the fog. “That’s Shoko,” Satoru murmured, almost disappointed. He started to separate himself from you, only to relapse – burying his face in the crook of your neck and letting out a deep, contented sigh. “You know that I love you, right?”

“I know.”

“And you know that all I wanna do is keep you happy?”

“I know, ‘toru.”

“Good.” He pulled back, grinning. “’cause all I ever wanna do is take care of my angel. Don’t let anything ‘side from that get into your pretty little head.”

You only nodded as he pushed himself to his feet, as he slipped out of the bathroom to meet Shoko, to explain what vital part of yourself he’d torn away this time. You wanted to get up, to wash the cum off of your hand, to pump feeling back into your numb legs, but your remaining limbs were uncooperative, heavy and awkward and useless. It was all you could do to pull your knees up to your chest, wrap your arms around your legs, and hold yourself as you started to cry.

At least, next time Satoru decided to tear you apart, you might not find it so hard to hate him for it.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #jjk #yandere gojo satoru #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #yandere gojo #yandere satoru #gojo satoru x reader

[yuuuhiii]

I just want you ᡣ𐭩

includes : Megumi x reader , angst w fluff ending , 0.9k words , kisses

ai’s notes : I luv him sm :((( not proof read

You stomp your feet all the way into the lounging area where Nobara, Yuuji and your boyfriend were.

You could hear Nobara and Yuuji teasing Megumi and if it was any other day you’d be there to back him up, even though he didn’t really care for their words. But today wasn’t any other day, you were mad and you had a very valid reason to be.

All of their eyes are on you and Megumi softly smiles at you. It’s soon wiped off his face when you’re pulling him by the ear, Nobara and Yuuji on the verge of laughing but also amused.

“Ah!—What the hell are you doing—Y/n!”

You let him yell at you as you yank him down the hall and into an empty classroom, sliding the classroom door shut.

“What the hell is your problem!” He grabs at his ear, glaring at you, but his gaze immediately softens when he sees you on the verge of tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong.” His brows furrow. He moves to hold you but you step away, making his stomach drop.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?”

You’re trying to hold yourself together, biting your lip so it wouldn’t jitter. Megumi’s more than confused but he’s trying to rack his mind of every possibility, just something that he did that would have you upset this much.

“Look. I don’t know what you’re talking about but I’m sorry.” He tries to reason and you look so broken, his heart is beating so fast but it wasn’t in the way he liked.

“Gojo-sensei told me about Mahoraga.” You glare at him and he stiffens.

Fuck.

Maybe he did lie to you about that technique, yes it was a ritual but he never told you that he had to sacrifice himself for it to work.

“You’ve tried to summon him at least five times for me!” You yell, your tears already falling, voice breaking.

He doesn’t know what to say and in a way he’s letting you break down, so you could let it all out.

“Why would you lie to me, especially about that.” You pout, sounding so desperate and hurt that it’s killing Megumi in the inside.

His mouth opens and closes, like a fish out of water with no oxygen. You crush him with your arms, holding on to him as if he’d disappear at any second, sobbing in his chest.

“You can’t keep sacrificing yourself like this Megumi, Gojo-sensei said you had the potential to be the strongest.” You say and he finally replies.

“I don’t want to be the strongest.”

Even though it’s a smart ass reply he’s holding you close to him, scared that things will go south and you’ll leave him.

“That’s not the point! But you can get stronger. How are you supposed to get stronger if you’re constantly trying to kill yourself.”

That makes him bite his tongue because you were right.

“I don’t care if you want to get stronger or not, I care about you.” You whimper, your cries not ceasing. Megumi combs his hands through your hair.

“I don’t want you to sacrifice yourself for me, I don’t want your soul, or your curse—”

“I’d never curse you.”

Your glare shuts him up.

“I want you. Like this, how I have you now, this is all I want.” You say so sincerely, holding his face in your hands.

“Alive, healthy and by my side. For as long as I can have you.”

His heart beat hasn’t slowed down, if anything it’s picked up, but now because your words have reduced him to a flushing mess. His ears and cheeks red, eyes softening.

“You’ll always have me.” He whispers, cradling your face now.

You don’t reply but you kiss him with so much passion, trying to gather up all the love you had for him and he kisses you the same way. The both of you afraid to lose each other.

Megumi couldn’t think of a world without you but he never stopped to think how you’d feel if he wasn’t in yours. Mostly because he’d do anything for you, even if that met giving up on his life for your wellbeing.

When you pull away you both are just as close, sharing each other’s breath.

“You have to promise me you won’t use it anymore, that you’ll get stronger so you don’t have to resort to that, or else I’ll leave you.”

Megumi’s hands squeeze around your waist at the last part, brows furrowing. You knew you’d never be able to but he didn’t need to know that. He rests his forehead on yours, squeezing his eyes.

“I wont use it.” He sighs.

“You promise?” You look up at him, making him melt.

“Promise.”

You lift up your pinky, and he shakes his head in amusement. Linking pinkies with you and touching your thumb, pecking it right after.

“You can’t break it, or I’ll have to cut off your pinky.” You pout and he chuckles.

“Yea I know.” He pecks your lips.

Smiling into his kiss, you lead up with a million pecks, causing his smile to rise as well.

“I love you ‘gumi.” You whisper, brushing your lips with his and he holds the small of your back.

“I love you too, so much.” He says as he nuzzles his face into your neck, placing a peck there as well.

At peace knowing that you were no longer mad at him.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

#—jjk #megumi x reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #megumi fluff #megumi angst #megumi drabble #megumi scenario #megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro fluff #megumi fushiguro angst #megumi fushiguro imagine #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro x you #fushiguro fluff #fushiguro angst #megumi fushiguro #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk angst #jjk megumi #jjk megumi x reader #jjk megumi fushiguro #jjk drabbles #jjk imagines

[strwberri-milk]

a/n: cue me listening to the same secret time over and over to put me in the right mindframe for this bc I don’t have either of the cards for the AB set for this goddamn FISH – im still learning about him/specifically abysswalker raf as well bc I know nothing outside this audio so there are indeed going to be some growing pains uwu im still learning his voice but im in love w him <3

Wrapped in Moonlight

AO3 || Rafayel x Fem!Reader || Soft Smut, Mild Angst || 3, 503 Words

additional tags: accidental mask kink, fingering, vaginal sex, first time having sex [w/ e/o], first kiss [w/ e/o], rafayels acc so in love with you, i like the moon and havent ever had to write a lot of water motifs before

The dull thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears has never been louder, not until this moment here, with you.

Your eyes look up at him from where you lay on your bed, teeth lightly worrying over your lips as you take a deep breath, shaking your head as though to shake away the words that had his feet planted firmly on the ground. You’d taken to summoning him more often as of late and even if he could, he would never reject your requests. Rafayel knew that it was dangerous but he couldn’t think to care, beginning to crave being by your side in ways that drove him mad.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you. Please, just forget I even said anything,” you begin to plead, averting his gaze and retreating further into your lush sheets. Sheets he knows the feeling of, the barely there warmth that his fingertips longed to feel, his resolve cracking every time you sleepily ask him to stay until you fall asleep.

“Your Highness doesn’t think I’d really be able to forget such a request, does she?” he decides to say instead, wanting to lean into a slightly more playful side of his persona to cope with the swell of emotions crashing down into his chest.

You stay silent and he decides to take this opportunity to step closer. His gloved hand parts the beaded curtain, your breath catching in your chest as you see the way the candle’s light faintly illuminating his face. Rafayel’s eyes are intense, something you’ve always noticed when he looks at you. All thoughts begin to cease as soon as his eyes meet yours, leaning in closer to you.

“Did you really think that I’d forget that you asked me to kiss you?”

The words hang heavy between the two of you, an unnamed but not unnoticed tension sitting on your shoulders once again. It felt like the two of you were constantly doing some song and dance, skirting around the way you both felt about each other. He looks like he’s got something more to say, watching you intently before stepping away. The clicking of the curtains gives you something else to focus on as you try to still your erratic heartbeat, hearing him draw the curtains to your room open at the same time as him blowing out the candles.

He stands in your window for a moment, the moon’s light wrapping around him so intimately you can’t help but be jealous. You shift in your bed, unconsciously crawling towards him. The sound makes him turn to look at you, hues coloured with something you can’t quite understand. You think you’ll drown in the depths of them but you can’t be bothered to care. If it meant being able to touch him, even for just a moment then you’d be more than willing to suffer that consequence.

“Rafayel, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just didn’t think before I spoke.”

And you couldn’t, not when he looked at you like he wanted to devour you or whenever he’d touch you gently to reassure you of his presence.

Silence and tension continue to colour the air between the two of you and you have a fleeting thought that this might be the last time you ever see him. You couldn’t ever summon him again, not after leaving things like this. Rafayel can feel your eyes flitting over his figure, imagines that you’re committing his features to memory.

“It’s quite the opposite,” he admits after some time, long strides closing the distance between the two of you in no time.

You find yourself being pushed back against the bed. Slowly, Rafayel pushes you to lay on your pillow, staring up at him in the moon’s light. He looks ethereal like this and you can’t imagine how you’re still capable of any sort of thinking right now.

A slight chuckle leaves his lips at the sight of your eyes widening. His hand goes to cup your face, leaning in so close your noses would be touching were it not for that infuriating piece of leather that keeps your breaths from intermingling. You have half a mind to ask him again, this time in the form of a wish to see if he’ll accept but you feel your mind go blank as you feel him press his face against your neck.

“What are you-”

Your words devolve to gasps, hands going to cling onto his shoulders as you feel him periodically press a little harder against your skin. If you close your eyes and really focus you think you can feel his lips pressing against the leather, kissing you through his mask. His breath rings in your ear, you trying to keep your gasps quiet to avoid drawing attention to your chambers.  

“Fulfilling Your Highness’ wish. Is that not what you wanted?”

You know that even this much is more than you could ever ask for, Rafayel always watching you cautiously whenever your hands would near his mask. You understand that he has his reasons for privacy and you would never ask him why but now, you’re just desperate to feel his lips on your skin, desperate to know if it’s as good as you’ve fantasized about. The only solace you get is the warmth of his body seeping through his clothes, teasing the tips of your fingers as you try not to act desperate for more of his touch.

“I can feel you holding back. Don’t tell me Your Highness is getting greedy?” he laughs breathily, the slight pant in his voice unnoticed by you with how divine it feels to be under him.

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you manage to mumble, biting back a slight moan when you feel his arm creep under your back and push you closer to his face.

“Hate you?”

The words leave his throat almost bloody. Just the sheer thought of hating you made his stomach churn, murky waters of his affection for you maddened that you could ever think such a thing. His hands tighten their grip on your body to a way that’s almost painful, looking up at you with a look that has so much want in it that it steals the breath out of your lungs.

“I could never hate you.”

His hair tickles your throat as you feel him settle against your neck, nuzzling into you and resting his hand on your waist. You try to turn to face him but the weight of his body stops you, Rafayel giving you a sound of disagreement.

“I told you already. It’s quite the opposite.”

You try to ask him to clarify, about to open your mouth when you he quickly gets up. He looks at you quickly before going to look around your room, shaking his head good naturedly at the slight furrow of your brows and parted lips. You watch him rummage through your things, getting even more confused when he returns with a strip of ribbon between his fingers.

He crawls over your body again, tilting your chin with his knuckles. You think you’re imagining it in the low light but the apples of his cheeks seem tinted red. Curious, you bring your hand up to the side of his face. You’re glad that he doesn’t seem to be flinching away from your touch. A smile graces your lips when you feel how warm his face is, Rafayel now pulling away from you slightly.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, a slight pout in his voice.

“You’re warm,” you laugh, bringing your hand closer to his face.

Your fingers brush against his ear, sure with how warm they are that he’s bright red. Your fingers trail down the curves, nail tracing the shape of his jaw down to his collar. He doesn’t shy away. Instead, his hand goes to grab your wrist, the ribbon tickling your skin as he leans in closer.

“This is your fault. You know that, right?” he scolds lightly.

“If it weren’t for you my heart wouldn’t feel like a hurricane over the ocean. Do you feel that?”

He brings your wrist over to rest on his chest, your palm resting over his heart. True to his word you can feel his heart pounding under your fingers. He presses his chest against you, brows furrowing as your fingers press against him.

“You should be more understanding, Your Highness. You can’t just do these things to people and leave them washed up on the beach during low tide. It’s cruel.”

The way he pitches his voice in your ear makes you swoon and you’re glad you’re already laying down. Your knees feel weak and you barely register his thumbs tracing a smooth line across your cheek. You’re both so close to each other that you’re suffocating in his presence.

“Are you willing to face the consequences?” he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

Weakly, you nod. With this, he brings both his hands to your face and suddenly you have your vision obscured by the ribbon he pulled out earlier. You bring your hands up to reach for it, immediately stopped by his strong grip.

“You said you’d be willing to accept it. You trust me, don’t you?”

His voice is raspy, laced with something more than just the question he’s asked you. There’s a weight to his words, something dragging down the vowels and accentuating the bite of his consonants. Your breath is caught in your throat as you wait for him to finish tying the ribbon behind your head, whimpering softly when he brings his thumb to press against your bottom lip.

Forced to wait, you try to imagine what he might do now. Your mind runs wild, barely listening to the sounds around you when you feel his weight on your body again. You reach out for him but gasp when you feel his lips press against your bare skin. The sound is indecent and you’re embarrassed you were even capable of making it but when you try to hide it you feel him bite you, squeaking in response.

“Don’t hide from me. I want to hear your voice. Don’t you think I deserve a bit of a reward for this?”

He continues to litter your skin in featherlight kisses, and you realise that his clothes don’t seem as thick as they usually are. You can feel his skin through the thinner layers, about to say something when his lips press against yours. It’s soft, barely there but the contact is enough to make your mind spin. You get the sense that he’s testing your boundaries and before he can pull away you wind your fingers through his hair, kissing him more insistently this time.

“I hope you don’t mind the blindfold, but I think it’s more exciting this way, don’t you think? This way, you’re forced to guess what I’m going to do next to you,” he breathes against you when he finally pulls back.

“You just like teasing me,” you mutter, scared to admit just how much you liked this and wanted him to keep going.

“I’m just trying to get revenge on you. You’ve been teasing me too! Don’t act like you’re innocent in all of this.”

He starts to trail kisses down your neck again, sucking gently against your collar. As much as he would like to, he can’t leave any marks on your skin. Something even semi-permanent like that seems far too cruel for someone like him to leave on someone like you. He reveres you and you can feel it in the way he kisses you, showering your body in an affection he’s never felt for anybody else.

“Rafayel – please –” you whimper, his name coming off your tongue his own siren song.  

“Please what? I won’t know what you want if you don’t tell me,” he hums, hand going to play with the fabric beginning to bunch under your waist.

He slots himself between your legs and your knees rest against his hips. You wish you could see him, look at the expression on his face. You wish you could watch him press kisses to your skin, watch his fingers tighten against you the way they are now, the way his nails scratch lightly against your skin between the slits of your nightgown.

“More, please,” he hears you ask weakly. “I need more of you. Rafayel? Please?”

He thinks he should tease you more but considering your current state and his own desperation he decides not to. Instead, he pushes up the fabric on your legs slowly, trying to see if you’ll stop him. When you don’t and instead try to egg him on by making it easier for him, he lets his hands rest on your thighs now laid bare for his hungry gaze.

“Are you sure? This is really something you want?”

The question is desperate, Rafayel not knowing if he wants you to stop him or not. His body longs to be pressed against yours, to make you say his name that prettily over and over again. He thinks he’ll die if he can’t have it, kissing lower and lower over the fabric on your chest to convince you to say yes.

He doesn’t know that he doesn’t have to fight that hard for you.

You clasp your fingers with his, bringing them to rest on the inside of your thighs. He’s glad he can’t see the look in your eyes, knowing that if he did it’d make all of his resolve crack if this is how bold you’re already being without being able to see the effect you have on him.

Tentatively, he brings his fingers closer to the heat burning between your legs. It doesn’t take him long to feel the damp spot between your legs and recognise that it’s getting damper with each kiss he gives you. You start to whine as his fingers tease your slit through your underwear, your body feeling things you didn’t know you could feel just with his touch.

“I didn’t know you were capable of such dirty things Your Highness.”

Despite his teasing words, you can tell he wants it just as much when he slips his fingers between the fabric and your body, fingers haphazardly exploring your body as he kisses your lips again. He swallows each moan you give him desperately, relishing in the whimper you give him when his fingertips start circling your clit.

“You’re the one doing this to me,” you whine, hips bucking against his palm as his fingers slip inside.

“You’re the one who started this. I’ll stop whenever you tell me to,” he mumbles against your neck.

Your moans are louder now and as much as he’d love to have everyone hear how good he makes you feel he also would hate it if your maid came in and saw what was happening. He covers your mouth with his free hand, ignoring the way it feels to have your gasps pressed up against his palm. He wants to ruin you, make you cry and scream from pleasure and have you be his for the rest of time but here, in the quiet of your bedroom he’ll settle for just this for now.

His hand stays focused, letting you moan and gasp into his palm as he fingers you. You feel his palm rest against your body, thumb replacing his finger as he the heel to rest against your core. He can make out gasps of his name when he hits a certain part inside of you and decides it’s too cruel to keep your mouth covered like this. You immediately moan his name, quieter this time to avoid being heard by your staff.

You clench around his fingers, the hand not bracing against his chest going to grab his wrist. Rafayel gives you a breathy laugh and you bury your face against his neck, continuing to moan and plead for him quietly.

“Please – Rafayel – I –“

Your own words are cut off quickly by your impending orgasm, biting into his shoulder to try and hold back your noises as your hips arch into him. The bite of your clothes against your skin as you writhe does nothing to impede the feeling of his hand on your cunt, Rafayel’s voice gently talking you through your orgasm. Stars litter the space of your eyelids, Rafayel’s arm coming to hold you against him.

When you finally come down you find yourself placed carefully in Rafayel’s lap. He’s taken off his shirt and unbuttoned his pants, gently tracing shapes on the skin of your lower back. Your blindfold is still on but you don’t doubt that the hard planes of your bed is Rafayel and when you hear his voice come from just above you you know you’re right.

“You’re awful to me, did you know that?” he muses, groaning slightly when you reposition yourself slightly and brush up against his cock.

“Stop that! I can’t believe you right now.”

“I’m just trying to get comfortable! This is just as much your fault as it is mine,” you say hazily.

You sit up on your knees, carefully putting your arms around his shoulders. You reach behind yourself to touch him, shuddering at the gasp he gives you against your arm. You feel his tip prodding gently against your opening, sinking down slightly. When you hear him gasp again you know you have him where you want him.

“You really want this?” you ask him huskily, mirroring his words from before.

Your hand rests on his cheek and you can feel him nod, continuing your slow descent onto his lap. It takes you a second to adjust to his size, hugging his neck tighter as you moan. His hands come to rest on your hips and he shifts slightly to create a better angle for himself. This makes him sink into you just the slightest bit deeper, you whimpering pathetically as he starts a slow, languid pace thrusting into you.

“Rafayel!” you gasp, hands bunching in his hair as you let him dictate the pace.

“Shh, shh. It’s alright, Your Highness. I’m here for you. Don’t worry – I’ll make you feel good. You know I will,” he mutters into your ear, continuing his gentle grind into you.

For the umpteenth time you wish that you could see him. For now, you have to sate yourself with his pretty moans and gasps, the way he feels inside of you and the affectionate kisses he peppers across your skin. Thanks to his pace you feel yourself coming to a slow build of your orgasm, his soft words of praise and coaxes going straight to your cunt. He groans every time you clench around him, the feeling of your pussy finally being wrapped around him making it hard for his mind to stop swimming.

He angles his hips to find that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, bringing a hand down to your clit despite how much he loves holding you because he knows he’ll love the feeling of you cumming around him more. When you give him a sharp gasp he knows he’s found it, thrusting more insistently. You grind against his pelvis, not wanting it to be over too quickly but still desperate for your release.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” Rafayel asks, pulling you out of the depths of your stupor just barely.

“I can feel it. You’re getting so tight around me – if you squeeze me like this then I’ll cum too. It’s okay, just let go. I told you I’d make you feel good, didn’t I? You’ve already done so well. Just a little bit more, okay?” he coaxes, the sound of his voice tipping you over the edge.

You cum with a broken cry of his name, holding onto his shoulders tightly. It takes him just a couple more strokes inside of you to cum himself, unable to think of anything but filling you up and claiming you as his in this small way. The two of you sit together, coming down from your shared high. You whine a little about still wearing the blindfold but that’s quickly quieted by him kissing you again, telling you that it’s part of the condition for him kissing you.

Your breathing slows together and after a minute he feels you becoming dead weight. He laughs to himself when he realises that you’ve fallen asleep on him, carefully moving you aside to lay you back down on your bed. After cleaning the two of you up and tucking you into bed he gives you one final kiss to your forehead. You make a small noise of complaint, Rafayel kneeling at the side of your bed to take one last look at you for the night. His hand rests on your cheek softly, pretending that this didn’t drastically change everything.

“I love you. Sleep well, my Princess,” he whispers, the far away sound of waves lapping on a shore the only witness to his words.  

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