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onlyswan · 7 months

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summary: in which jungkook is one of your greatest fears and you’re his achilles’ heel.

idol!jungkook x reader, est. relationship / fluff, angst / word count: 4.1k

content/warnings: i love you i want us both to eat well T_T sigh. oc has abandonment issues pls protect at all costs + oc is worried bc jk is working so hard :( + a worm (???) cameo. ily protective and hopeless romantic iw!jk <3 the ending 🥲💔 this drabble literally goes 📈📉

> in which masterlist!

note: *insert my melody mugshot scene* me if planting puzzle pieces in my drabbles + making oc cry (IM SORRY) were a crime. this was sm fun writing <3 i cried and laughed they’re so precious </3

—

“jungkook, baby?”

your silky voice fills the quiet apartment as you pad across the floor. you’re carrying your heeled mary janes by its straps, leaving you only in your white socks.

“babe?”

you frown as the seconds pass and you receive no response from your lover. there’s no music playing, no rustling somewhere in the kitchen or the living room. the lights are dim like they usually are, but the vivid colors are absent.

him? asleep at 9pm? jeon jungkook? it can’t be, but you’d be delighted to finally see him resting early if it was real.

and so, spurred by that tiny glimmer of hope, you carefully crack the bedroom door open, as if you’re fifteen again and you just came back from sneaking out of the house.

but you’re grown now; you live in a building with complete strangers for neighbors. you just got home from work, and you’re no longer used to sleeping alone because you share the bed with another person.

you find it empty. devoid of any creases, sign of life. as neat as a hotel room’s make believe that no one lived there until two hours prior.

the disappointment weighs down on your shoulders, causing them to drop.

he didn’t tell you he was going somewhere else after practice, you think to yourself as your lips permanently shape into a pout. what happened to going out with you for dinner?

agreeing, your empty stomach grumbles angrily.

maybe he got caught up at work. maybe he’s on his way home. maybe he’s on his way to the restaurant and he’s about to text you to come over. maybe he forgot about your plans and he’s having dinner with somebody else.

whatever the reason is, you’re too lazy and tired to whip up something edible on your own. with or without him, you’re going out and you’re stuffing your mouth full with rice and meat. after all, autumn is here, your dear old friend.

in search for a coat that will accompany you in your late-night stroll, you enter the walk-in closet and flip on the lightswitch.

you can count them with just your fingers— the amount of times you’ve felt this type of fear. absent eyes, melting spine, chills running to the top of your head down to your fingertips, mind racing with an overload of thoughts (it appears as a blank page, the same way that white is the presence of all colors of visible light). this fear… you associate it with impulsive mistakes, fire, police and ambulance sirens, and… empty closets.

jungkook’s side of the closet is empty.

clothes. shoes. bucket hats. beanies. belts. everything. gone.

but the floor is scattered with random pieces of clothing that look like they accidentally fell while someone was in a rush to pack them all in a bag. so in a rush that they didn’t even bother to pick them up.

your weak knees almost give way, but you force yourself to stumble backwards until your back hits the doorframe— you refuse to let yourself look like you’ve been carelessly discarded too.

not again. not again. not this goddamn vicious curse you thought you’ve already broken out of. not. again.

you blink away the tears threatening to spill as you scramble to open the zipper of your bag, but they spill anyway when your shoes clatter to the floor. you flinch at the thunderous sound, clutching your phone tightly against your chest. you keep your eyes closed throughout the defeaning silence that comes after.

the empty space mocks you. it knows your intricate design was not meant to live in an empty home.

you guess nothing much has changed. you’re still afraid of jungkook and his power to take away the sun, just as he did before, and you deeply despise being afraid. you don’t like it when the walls are closing in on you, poisoning your mind into believing that you’re small when the heart inside your chest burns with a fire brighter than that of the damn sun.

anyone would be foolish to leave you; it’s only jungkook who could have you mourning the death of the garden you’ve given the past five years of your life to.

—

jungkook returns to the apartment half an hour later. despite the long, grueling hours of dance practice he nearly didn’t survive, the excitement vibrating through his body is manifested through the lightness of his movements. he’s finally seeing his lover for the first time today… awake.

when he brought his natural body warmth along with him to the bathroom this morning, you sunk yourself further into mattress, beneath the thick blankets and against the soft pillows. by the time he had to give you your obligatory goodbye kiss before he leaves for work (or else you’d sulk about it for the rest of the week), half of your face has been hidden from sight. he was only able to press a loving kiss on your forehead, and then your eyelids that were fluttering as you dreamt.

night time comes and he is still deprived of the sight of your beautiful face? he somberly wonders as he finds you slumped over the dining table; he swears that there is a dark rain cloud hovering above you. your arms are thrown over the hardwood as they serve as a makeshift pillow for your vessel— his little firefly curiously bleak.

“baby? are you sick?” he asks, voice dripping with concern as he tenderly rubs your back.

the legs of the chair screeches against the tiled floor, neglectedly pushed behind.

“kook?” you manage to choke out, frantically sitting up once your muddled brain registered the familiarity of his touch on your bare skin.

his heart drops to his stomach as your tear-stained face comes into view. this isn’t how he envisioned your greeting; it usually came in the form of a bright light not harsh as the sunlight, a softness that begs to be held.

“are you crying?!”

your reply only comes out as a pitiful whimper. he stumbles a step backwards when you unceremoniously jump into his embrace, wrapping your arms over his shoulders. he gets a whiff of your sweet perfume, and then it becomes the air that he breathes, but he doesn’t have much time to revel in it.

“baby!”

he squeezes your waist taut against his body, affectionately nosing at your cheek before giving you a kiss. “did something happen? tell me- tell me.”

“jungkook,” your voice cracks as you utter his name, sounding almost like a plea, and then an endless string of heartbreaking sobs comes out muffled against his shirt. “where have you been?”

this sends him into a state of panic. seeing you in pain— it’s his biggest weakness. after all, you are his achilles’ heel.

“why? why, why, why?” you’re weak and pliant as he pulls your arms down, collapsing against his chest when he envelopes you in his embrace. he cradles your head in his palm, soothing you with gentle pats and shushes. “shh, shhh- it’s okay, i’m here now. everything’s okay, you hear me?”

his efforts prove to be fruitless, because you only seem to cry harder as he slowly rocks your bodies back and forth.

you shake your head, hands attempting to hold on to the back of his shirt to regain sensation in your limbs, but they miserably fail and fall on the sides of his hips.

“talk to me… please, mhmm?“ he hums quietly, pressing his soft lips to your temple. “tell me what’s wrong and your boyfriend will take care of it.”

from your sniffles to your hiccups, you remain unable to form any coherent response, and it leads his imagination to construct the worst possible scenarios. he feels his stomach turn with uneasiness, jaw clenching as he carefully pulls away to meet you eye-to-eye.

“did someone touch you? hurt you?” he spits out with urgency, and the unparalleled care he displays puts you in a daze, simply dumbfounded as he strokes your face. “huh, baby? just tell me and i’ll take care of the rest.”

now that you’re being reminded that jungkook could quite literally kill a person with his bare hands if they ever inflict harm on you, the fog is clearing up and you feel so incredibly… stupid.

but that’s more the reason why it’s difficult not to be sensitive when it comes to him; his absence proves to be lethal.

“shit, you’re scaring me.” he breathes out shakily as he taps your cheek lightly to bring you back to him, the distant look in your eyes triggering the emergency alarms in his head.

he unconsciously licks his lips and he tastes your tears; he doesn’t want anybody else to ever come this close.

“okay, okay- let’s put that aside for now. what do you need? should we go to bed and rest instead?”

“i thought you left,” you whisper as you hang your head in shame.

he blinks at you in confusion. “to where? my flight isn’t until next week, baby.”

fantastic! now you sound like the most dramatic, clingiest bitch to ever grace the planet. you bury your face in your hands to hide the battle zone between your heart and mind, but your boyfriend seizes your wrists because he can’t bear another second of it.

“is-is that why you’re upset…?” he asks with not a trace of malice or ridicule. he is only filled with guilt as it dawns on him then— how you’ve only gotten used to always having him around four years into your relationship, when he was taking a break from work.

the changes in his life are also changes in yours, but they still affect you in many different ways.

“then just come with me. i’ll make it work. maybe we can extend for a bit, spend an entire day by ourselves- there’s a lot of museu-”

“i thought you left,” you repeat yourself, exposed and vulnerable, vision swallowed by the darkness because you can’t make yourself look at him. “your clothes… they’re gone, and i was calling but you… you weren’t answering my calls so i thought…”

“my clothes?” he exclaims, eyes going wide as he realizes that they’ve accidentally slipped from his mind. “ahh, i thought about cleaning the closet while waiting for you so i moved everything to the other room!”

you open your mouth to speak, but much to your chagrin, no words come out. you purse your lips as your chin wobbles— the new wave of tears in your eyes mimic shiny crystals.

“____!”

and at the stern mention of your name, you know that you’re about to receive a (loving) scolding from your boyfriend. your lips curve into a frown before a sob inevitably escapes past them.

“why would you think that? why would i leave you? that doesn’t make sense at all, does it…?”

you shake your head, hugging him so tight, possibly tighter than you’ve ever done before. between your bodies, his heart is being unbearably wrung.

“i’m sorry, baby. seeing you cry like this breaks my heart…” he closes his eyes with a heavy sigh, resting his cheek on the side of your head. “but why would that be the first thing you think of…? i must be doing something wrong, right? have i been too busy with work? am i neglecting you?”

you’re breathless, a little dizzy— bloodshot eyes meeting his that are now gleaming with sadness. “no, it’s not like that! i just panicked, i couldn’t think straight.”

“are you sure?”

he looks at you skeptically, scanning your face.

“baby-” his voice breaks, then he pauses with his gaze still trained on you. “okay, i’m sorry. i… should’ve thought about what cleaning the closet would look like.”

“i was just being stupid.” you give him a small smile, rubbing your eyes to chase away the burning sensation. “sorry for scaring you.”

“stop, you’ll hurt yourself.” he tuts, pushing your wrists aside to cup your face in his hands, much gentler in comparison to your own self. his thumbs draw shapes on your soft skin, and then out of the blue, he curiously squeezes one of the space buns on top of your head. “wow, this is so pretty?”

“huh…? oh, thanks.” you mumble, still feeling out of it.

“this, too.” the white silk ribbon wrapped prettily around your neck, he means, which he hooks a finger on to tug lightly. it matches the lace straps on your shoulders that falls across the underbust of your dress, tied together to form a ribbon in the middle of it. that makes two, so clasically you.

and while it may be partly true that he’s trying to lighten the atmosphere, he just can’t defy the urge to express his admiration for you, even in a situation like this. he’s perpetually love-drunk.

“thank you.” you nod, shyly looking away to sniffle. “but you’re the reason why my makeup is ruined… need to wash it off before we go.”

“you’re beautiful either way, baby.”

“i know.” you scoff. “would you date me for five years if i wasn’t?”

he releases a throaty chuckle, capturing your lips in his with a smile of endearment that he fails to subdue.

“you’re so fucking cute. i love you-” he says with merely an inch of distance between you.

he grunts in melodramatic anguish, overcome by the insensity of his affections overflowing past the brim of his very being, leaning so close that the edge of the table digs into your lower back, surely to leave a temporary mark.

and he carries on to kiss you so many times that you lose count; you can only melt as you collect them in that bottomless pocket located somewhere in your soul, where all the love you’ve received across lifetimes is recorded to prove i was once here.

“i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you, i love you. i’m never leaving. you’re stuck with me and bam forever.”

if the time comes that the two of you break up, who would bam come home to? jungkook stubbornly refuses to have that conversation.

however, you still can’t let go of something, and you pout as you shove him lightly. unsurprisingly, his strong build doesn’t budge at all.

“but why didn’t you answer my calls?” at last, you gain enough energy to complain, but your face grows hot as the urge to cry returns. “i mean, what else was i supposed to think?!”

jungkook is struck by yet another lightning.

may the heavens have mercy, he’s been making you angry more than usual lately.

“shit, i forgot. i turned off my phone.” he mutters under his breath, feeling extremely regretful that he was not reachable when you needed him most to be. “i wanted to focus only on you tonight. what do they call it again…? leaving work at work?”

he winces guiltily.

“i’m sorry. maybe it wasn’t a smart idea.”

“no, i like that.” you almost interrupt him from talking because of how fast you are to brush off his apology.

he makes a mental note of it— the way you’re gripping at his shirt in small fists. you’re tense and overwhelmed; you need him to stay close.

“leave work at work. focus on me, and let me be your rest.”

unbeknownst to you, jungkook bites back his tears then. after all this time, he still gets mesmerized by the tenderness that naturally governs your every word and action; he thinks that he needs you more than you need him.

—

“just eat, baby. i’ll cook the meat for us.” jungkook coos at you as he cuts more meat into bite-sized pieces using a pair of kitchen shears.

“okay, then i’ll make sure that you eat.” you grin excitedly, dragging your chair closer to his.

you set down the tongs, grabbing your chopsticks to pick up a cooked piece of pork belly from the grill. you don’t forget to blow on it, mindful of burning his tongue.

of course, you don’t want to hurt him, but it would be especially painful for him as a singer.

“ahhh-” still busy with cooking, jungkook opens wide at your cue, catching the meat in between his teeth.

“rice,” he demands as he chews.

you scoop up rice from your bowl, and he devours it happily as he continues to flip the strips of pork belly lined up across the grill.

“mmhmm, it’s so delicious!” he dramatically says out loud. his eyebrows are knitted together and his legs are bouncing under the table, tell-tale signs of him enjoying the food.

witnessing this kind of reaction, any chef would be happy to slave away in the kitchen to serve him a meal. you recognize it in the smile of the owner after jungkook ordered more side dishes, and the way he dashed through the door to reduce the waiting time.

“yah, feed yourself, too!” jungkook chides you after you feed him meat three times in a row, but with an open palm that catches the juice that drips from the kimchi, you still tap your chopsticks against his lips. he spares it a glance before catching it using his tongue.

“i am!” you then rush to wrap a piece of pork belly in lettuce, dipping it into ssamjang before stuffing it into your mouth.

“good job, baby.” he grins in satisfaction, rubbing your back as praise. this makes you preen. “make sure to eat lots, got it?”

but then you’re back to spoiling him rotten, this time with an egg roll. so far, he has only touched his own chopsticks twice.

“i just told you to eat first!”

you glare at him, pouting. “but you worked so hard practicing today and you haven’t even eaten properly yet.”

he is too busy with work, and it’s not news that you’ve been worried sick about his health. it’s difficult to watch him work himself to the bone, but no one truly has the power to stop jungkook from doing what he wants, sometimes not even himself. and you find it impossible to fault him for it when you know that everything he does is done out of love. from the vigorous vocal and dance lessons, and to the deep cleaning of the apartment because his baby has been developing an allergy to dust.

“you need to make it up to your body. here, please?”

he loves being loved, jungkook thinks to himself as he eats the egg roll whole.

—

you were already prepared to go home after dinner, but your night owl for a boyfriend insisted on going on a walk at the park because he wanted to, and you quote, ‘see you awake for a little while longer,’ or whatever the hell he meant by that.

with his tattooed arm protectively swung over your shoulder, you’re engulfed in a wave of nostalgia. for the first two years of your relationship, before you started living together, you only met with each other at night, save for the very rare day-offs that he got. the only places that are still open after midnight are nightclubs, fastfood chains, convenience stores… and well, parks.

and he would always hold you close like this to make you feel safe, and the rest of you melts away while the side of your ribcage that he is pressed against remains to shelter your heart. on the contrary, you also remember how your bodies used to be so tense. you wanted to sacrifice more sleep and to walk to the other side of the park, of the street, to that other convenience store five blocks away because this one didn’t have the flavor of ice cream you wanted, anything… just… anything so you could be with each other ten minutes more.

and it was cold. it was always cold.

“what do you mean ‘it exploded’?”

“it seriously exploded! it was on fire! that’s why i went out to buy a new extension cord!”

“jungkook, it’s because you plug in too many things at once!” you cry out in frustration, your steps becoming heavy stomps. “i told you to stop doing that!”

“what do you mean? if it has six slots, doesn’t that mean six devices is the maximum?” he continues to stubbornly defend himself, and you can only hang your head in defeat. “otherwise, it’s a scam!”

“it is a scam! see…? they made you buy a ne-”

your sentence is cut short as your tongue gets paralyzed.

a dark and striped, long figure approaching ahead, slithering its across the grass.

your mind immediately registers it as the animal you fear most.

oh, no. no, no, no, no, no.

“jungkook,” you utter his name with a tremble.

the same fear you experienced only two hours ago holds you hostage once more, add all the hair in your body standing up and you’re as frightened as a cat.

“what’s wrong? yah! what are you doing?! baby, ba- fuck!” he sputters out as you forcefully pull him back along with you, displaying a type of strength and agility he doesn’t normally see.

the two of you continue to stumble backwards as you struggle to maintain balance, and somehow jungkook manages to switch your positions so that you’re the one who lands on top him instead of the other way around when you eventually end up as a heap on the soft earth.

he begins to feel his throat closing up at the sight of pure, genuine fear in your eyes.

“jungkook, snake- it’s small bu-”

you interrupt your own sentence with a high-pitched squeal, garnering looks from strangers moving and unmoving. in the blink of an eye, your boyfriend has swept you off your feet as if you’re light as a feather, driven by the instinct to protect the love of his life.

you cover your mouth in shock, your other arm coming up around his neck to keep yourself from falling.

you think you may have fallen for jungkook all over again.

“are you spiderman?”

he was too busy searching for the subject of your fear under dim lights, and so he looks at you in bewilderment to ask, “what was that?”

you shake your head with your wide eyes shining with faux innocence. you squeak. “nothing.”

he releases a sigh, followed by a chuckle of obvious relief and amusement as he squeezes your body closer to plant a kiss on your forehead. “aigoo, my ____! why are you so scared today? what am i going to do with you…? it’s just a worm.”

“are you sure? i swear i saw it raise its head!“

“i’m sure,” he lulls you. “i think worms can do that, too?”

your face twists in an expression of mixed bewilderment and distrust.

“that i’m not sure about, but it’s really just a worm! would i still be standing here if it wasn’t?” he clicks his tongue sharply. “we need to get your eyes rechecked.”

you roll your eyes with a huff. you’ve have had enough of his teasing before it even starts.

“uh?! i’m serious over here!”

this is new— you mean bickering with jungkook in a public place isn’t, but being carried by him like a bride while it happens definitely is.

“fine, i’ll go this weekend. happy?” you fake an obedient smile. “you can put me down now.”

he blinks, and then he adjusts the way he’s holding you to ensure that your dress won’t show what’s for his eyes only— for a split second, you were flying.

“i’ll go with you,”

“okay. now put me down.“ you tap his shoulder repeatedly to prompt him to heed your words. “babe, this is embarrassing!”

“nope,” he ignores your protest with nonchalance as he resumes to walk the path you’re on, evidently enjoying the attention he’s stealing and the way you’re curling yourself smaller to hide.

“oh my god! weren’t you just complaining about your body hurting?!”

“you were scared of me leaving,” he smiles, glancing down at you. “so now i’m gluing you to myself.”

that made you quiet for a while. inside your tote, the container of kimchi, wrapped in a plastic bag, rattles with his every stride. you noticed that jungkook loved it so much, so you ordered it to go when he went to the bathroom before you were to leave the restaurant.

“you know, we used to just hold hands,” you mumble with a childish pout. “like normal people?”

“this is very normal,” he argues.

the scenery becomes more familiar as he takes the long way home.

“some would even say romantic.”

a wave of nostalgia hits, and you visibly shiver.

you don’t know if he would remember, but he has said the same exact words once before.

you scrunch your nose, supposedly to give him a look of disgust, but a giddy smile betrays you. you are five years younger again, and the night ends with the moon bidding you an adieu.

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

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#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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mactavishsgfandwife · 3 months

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Dad!Simon Taking Your Daughter to the Optician’s (Fluff)

another random one but OMG imagine your daughter had needed those adorable baby glasses and simon took her to the optician to buy a pair 😭 like awwwwweewwwwwwwwe purest domestic fluff ever, not proofread

He pulls her tiny, pink raincoat off of the coat hangers by the door, along with his own black bomber jacket that he holds under one arm, and he tenderly leans down to zip up her little jacket - the one with cutesy rubber ducks embroidered at the cuffs. Most people wouldn’t immediately assume them to be father and daughter. This huge, intimidating military man with sunglasses on in early Spring to hide his eyes and a small silver dog tag dangling down around his neck, dwarfed by his broad shoulders - and reaching her hand up to hold his, babbling something unintelligible about rocks, a little girl. Her hair was carefully tied into bunches - Simon had tried to do it himself but he somehow managed to miss out half of her hair, so he lifted her up over his shoulder as if he were a firefighter and went to find you.

"Y’married a soldier, not a hairdresser," he grinned, a little bit embarrassed.

At the optician’s, he guides his little girl around the room, inspecting the shelves of different glasses. He holds her soft, little hand in his big, tough one. For a moment, he is distracted by some informational poster on the wall, but a sudden exasperated gasp from the 3 year old at his feet pulls him back to reality right away. Looking down, he sees her chubby hands holding a pair of adult sunglasses to her eyes, a big grin on her face.

"Glasses! Want glasses, daddy!" she giggles, the specs falling wonky on her little button nose. Simon laughs softly, crouching down to get closer to his baby, his elbows resting on the denim of his jeans.

"You can have glasses, love… but those are too big for a littl’un like you," he leans in to kiss her soft forehead, and tries to place the sunglasses back, as her little fingers paw at them.

"What about these ones..?" he smiles, holding out a little pair of pink glasses, purple at the edges, with sweet little stars along the sides. That smile on his face is met by her exaggerated, pleading eyes and her little sad pout, still trying to reach her hands out to the sunglasses that her daddy had meanly placed on a high shelf. :(

Simon finally settles on buying the sunglasses ‘for himself’, rolling his eyes with a small chuckle as he helps fit those cute, purple glasses to his little girl’s face, turning her to look at herself in the mirror of the shop.

"Ahh!" she lets out a little, excited squeal, "I love it, Daddy!"

"You look so pretty, little girl," he smiles protectively, trying not to laugh as he sees her chubby, grinning face looking up at him behind those glasses that make her eyes seem twice as big as normal.

Her little mary-jane shoes run in circles around the shop, as she lets out little squeaks of joy and mumbles to herself - in the end, it takes your husband a whole 10 minutes to convince her to take them off so that he can buy them, and on the walk home she does her best to speed ahead of him (not that he would ever actually allow her out of his sight), shouting, "Faster, Daddy!", alternating between running away from him and walking slow at his side, panting from the running until he caved and carried her. She was just so excited and couldn’t wait to go home and show Mummy. <3

And she looks so cute when she excitedly rushes into the kitchen, screwing up her face and giggling as she tells you all about her new glasses, Simon leaning against the doorframe in the background and chuckling softly as he watches, unable to hide how much he loves his little family.

i love him so much i’m crying tears thanks for reading lovelies! x

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fictionalslvr · 6 months

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SYNOPSIS: Leon is the most devoted young man you know, and what you always wanted, is to ruin him, turn him into a complete sinful mess.

PAIRING: Churchboy¡Leon x F!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.030k

WARNINGS: Religious themes! Suggestive and lewd. Corruption kink. Sub¡Leon. Delusional reader. Not p in v because it's all a reader's fantasy ect.

NOTES: Someone send help, I can't stop thinking about RE2 Leon.

AKRASIA:"(n.) Lack of self control."

Leon is a very devout young man. With his knees down on the cold floor, eyes turned to the ceiling and hands squeezed together, his soft voice carried a lot of prayers. It is possible to hear a faint breath escape from those pretty plump lips while he did that, showing how disposed he is to his religion. You had a very bad and twisted thought about him, how you would ruin him completely.

The soft prayers wouldn’t be the only thing slipping out from his lips, his baby azure eyes would be teary, carrying gentle tears that would slid down his cheek so gracefully, his eyes would be turned upwards as always, but this time, not to be face-to-face with his savior, and yes, to show him how sinful he would be in that moment. Those sick contemplations are rotten in your mind, in the most wrong place ever to be thinking about this, the damn church. Who would have thought that you, with that long white skirt, round big eyes that seemed so innocent, the pair of cute Mary Janes on your feet, along with adorable lacy socks, would be so perverted. Who would think that such a delightful girl as you, bashing your eyelashes to everyone, would be wanting to ruin an adorable boy as Leon.

Your thighs are squeezing against each other on the wood bench, you’re sure that you're a sinner dressed as the most faithful gorgeous girl in that place, surrounded by others sinners, after all, no one is fully innocent. Seeing Leon on your right side, he’s very focused on the priest's words, and you, poor you can’t stop your mind in fantasizing about that boy. His dirty blonde hair shines under the white ceiling chandelier, he has this adorable habit of biting his lips when focused, sometimes even poking his tongue slightly out of his lips, you just want him under you, crying and humming your name with that angelic voice of his. Your chest rose as your eyes are glued on his figure, he’s driving you crazy without even saying a word.

You’ve always wondered if Leon was still a virgin, judging by his devotions, you guessed he never even kissed anyone, and that only eats your mind alive. You wanted to be his first in everything, the one who achieved to make him sin with you, you wanted to see his face plastered with tears, his breathing hitching as the name of his God couldn’t save him from that guilty feeling rushing over his spine. Leon would feel bad for feeling so good, that guilty pleasure that drives him into a sobbing mess, whispering faintly “sorry, i-i’m so s-sorry!” in between whimpers. You would take good care of him, being slow and passionate to show there’s nothing wrong in that pleasure he’s feeling, but that wouldn’t help, he would be a melted butter into your hands, hiding his face on the crook of your neck as your naughty hands kept touching the tip of his rosy penis, that pleasure was too much, something new that he’s getting already attached to, they were right, it’s an addiction that erodes an human being. The vulnerability of his state, his nude figure, it’s all new, like he’s a newborn around the world, discovering what the world could offer him as good, but that had consequences.

He would always hear that “the good boys go to heaven”, so he followed that strictly. But hearing that escaping from your lips would play with his mind, that nickname was supposed to be a good thing, not to be used as filthy as you make it look like. And maybe this is what you wanted, to make him feel guilty, to doubt himself and his purpose, to make him a full sinner, dragging you into hell with him. Poor Leon, his mind is so religiously focused, that he’s scared he could go to hell after life, so he restrains himself in almost everything to be perfect in the religious eyes. That would only make your twisted mind want him even more.

You would give whatever it takes to see his round cheeks growing rosy in embarrassment, to watch his eyes shut tightly, scared to look into your eyes and see that lust flames on them, to hear his heartbeat increase as you only get closer to him, depositing a kiss on his cheek and that would make him rest his hands there, thinking about your actions and how he needs to reprimand you from your manners, but he simply can’t, because you cause him fright. No one would believe him if he said how the cute girl has been teasing him, showing a bit more of her cleavage by bending down in front of him to make his mind wander to all wrong sides. In your deepest fantasies, Leon would be addicted to the friction your hands caused him the last time, he would try to recreate that, head leaned down as he felt even guiltier than before, his own hands exploring his body that way for the first time.

Leon is your little tragedy, the piece of drama in your life that keeps you coming to the church, even to not listen to any of the words about it. A divine violence, you like to think that Leon is the actual demon from teasing you just from being himself. Sadly, you didn’t do any of those things, your mind likes to fantasize that, so maybe one day, you can actually send Leon over the edge.

You only noticed that your sweet fantasy is over when a soft voice calls you out, a big pair of blue eyes towards you, which you knew greatly who it was.

“Miss? Are you okay? The preaching is over for a few minutes now.” A smirk appeared in your lips, for the first time, you couldn’t contain yourself, you had to do something.

Throwing your self control away, you gathered courage to lift your body and look around, there’s no one else in the church. Seeing Leon, his eyebrows are frowned in worry, you’re ready to ruin that face of his.

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x fem reader #leon x reader #leon x you #leon kennedy smut #leon smut #re2 remake #re2 smut #re2 leon

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aphroditeinthesea · 1 month

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this was a request from @annaizcool44 but i accidentally deleted it when i tried to post it

“ safe in my garden, an ancient flower blooms ”

jason grace x daughter of demeter ⚡️

reader expresses her feelings to the son of zeus through a shared love of books

tw none

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨💐୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

“Whatcha reading?” Y/N jumped at the sound of the voice behind her. She was sitting on the porch of the Demeter cabin when she noticed the blond approaching her.

She looked up and smiled, “Little Women,” she scooted over for him to sit next to her, “ever read it?”

He shook his head, sitting beside her. He leaned over her shoulder at the page she was on, “what’s it about?”

She felt her ears warm at the closeness, “these four sisters during the Civil War, and their dad’s fighting in the army so they're trying to adjust to their life now… I guess.”

“Can I borrow it sometime?”

Jason heard a knock at his door in the early morning. He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he stood up, walking to open it. He found on his doorstep a copy of Little Women with a sticky note on top that read “For Jason, with love Y/N” and he couldn't help but notice the fresh flowers that had sprouted around his cabin.

He smiled and looked around. He saw the girl peering from behind a nearby tree. She turned away, giggling, when he looked her way.

His heart warmed. He stepped back into his cabin and flipped through the pages, he found little notes in the margins and underlined quotes.

For the rest of the day, the book never left his hands. During breakfast, during training, his eyes were glued to the pages.

Just before the campfire, Y/N peeked into his cabin, “Jason?”

She noticed him wipe his eyes, “oh, uh, hey.”

She smiled and walked over to his bed, “Beth?”

He nodded, “yeah. Why would the author write that?”

She bit her lip, “Jase, it’s a true story.”

His eyes widened, “no.”

“Yes.”

Tears began pricked out of his eyes, “that makes it so much worse.”

She sympathetically laughed, wrapping her arms around him. He nuzzled his head into her neck. She couldn't help but smile at how the usual tough guy was now crying in her arms over a book. A book she had gifted him.

He pulled away, “your little note made it better though,” he grinned. He opened the book to the last page he had read, “Jason, when you get here, come to my cabin, I know you’ll need to.”

She laughed, “I think I know you too well.”

He nodded, “I think so.”

“You wanna read Pride and Prejudice?” she asked, “one more sister, happier ending.”

He chuckled, “might as well.”

She showed up to his cabin just before curfew, “the Bennett sisters, Jane, Lizzie, Mary, Kitty, and Lydia, search for love in 1813 England,” she announced in a pretend professional voice.

“No scarlet fever?”

She shook her head, “no scarlet fever. Jane gets a cold, but it's nothing serious.”

He hesitantly grabbed the book from her hands, “thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem, Jason, it's nice getting to share these with you.”

“Yeah, it's nice for me, too,” he trailed off, looking away, “I should get to bed.”

“Right, yeah, of course,” she smiled, “goodnight.”

“‘Night,” he replied, closing the door.

“Oh, uh, one more thing.”

He slightly opened the door again, “hm?”

She took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his cheek, “see you in the morning.”

He stuttered, trying to suppress his blush, “yeah- yeah, see you,” he awkwardly smiled, closing the door again.

The next morning she watched him sit at the Zeus table, reading the book. Her heart raced as she knew he was getting closer to the last annotation she had written. She started to regret it, what if he thought the books just made them closer friends? Of course they were friends, she cursed herself for thinking he could see her differently. He glanced up at her, he flashed a smile and a nod her way. She turned pink, looking away.

“Y/N!” the all too familiar voice called to her as she sat by the dock, watching the sunset later that day.

She turned around, “Jason, hi,” she shyly smiled.

He took the spot next to her, handing the book back to her, “I finished the book.”

She nervously looked into his eyes, “and?”

“It was great!” he beamed, “everything about it.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, “even the ending?”

“That was the best part.”

“Jason,” she laughed, “did you even read the annotations?”

He squinted his eyes in confusion, “of course I did.”

She opened the book to the back cover. She folded it open and showed it to him. There was written in pink ink, “Will you be the Darcy to my Lizzie?”

“I know it’s cheesy,” she muttered, closing the book and turning away.

“Yes,” he paused, “wait, no. Yes to the question, not to it being cheesy. Well, it is cheesy but it’s cute. You're cute.”

She giggled, “thanks, so are you.”

He held her cheek in his hand, their gazes met before their lips crashed into one another. She placed her hands around his neck as he now held her face with both of his hands. When they pulled away, their foreheads leaned against one another and they could feel the other’s breath against their lips.

The next morning, Jason walked out his cabin to find a field of multicolored roses had encompassed him. He looked around just to find the girl responsible standing in the middle of the flowers, holding a book. He breathily laughed and made his way over to her.

“Here,” she smiled, handing him the book.

He took it, “Mansfield Park?”

“Jane Austen, she wrote Pride and Prejudice, too.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into a kiss, “sounds perfect.”

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #jason grace x you #jason grace x daughter of demeter #demeter #daughter of demeter #child of demeter #cabin 4

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beesonhoneytoast · 6 months

Text

“I’m hopeless without you.”

♡ Mike Schmidt x GN!Reader ♡

synopsis: on his day off, mike hears that you were involved in some freak accident at work. he wastes no time in getting dressed and driving to your workplace. however, when he calls you, something bizarre happens. cws: hurt/comfort, established relationship, mike being a narcoleptic mess and a disaster pansexual (?), crying, confusing dreams for reality

~800 words | divider creds @firefly-graphics

Mike runs out into the living room, putting on his shirt as he rushed out of his bedroom.

Abby is lying on her stomach watching cartoons but turns her head at the sound of her big brother shuffling around and panting. “Mike?” She called for him.

“Y/n was involved in an accident. I don’t have time to call anyone to watch you, so get your shoes on. We’re going to find them.” He explained, hopping on one foot as he put his shoes on. He grabbed the keys as Abby slipped her little Mary Janes on.

The two Schmidts went outside and Abby rushed to the backseat on the passenger side of Mike’s car.

Mike got the front door of the house locked after a moment (as trying to do anything with trembling hands is understandably very difficult). Mike slammed on the gas after hurriedly backing out of the driveway, and he pulled out his flip-phone, selected your number on it, and put it to his ear. Every time, however, he was sent to voicemail. He left a message every time he was.

“Y/n, it's me, Mike.”

“If you're alive, Y/n, please reach out if you can.”

“Please Y/n, I- I'm hopeless without you.”

“Okay. The third time wasn't the charm, neither was the fourth. Maybe the fifth time will be the one? I dunno. I have no idea if or when you'll hear this, but... Ever since I've known you, I've felt... So at home. You're the only person I know who seems to care about me, and- I… I can't lose you. Please.” Mike said into the phone.

“Mike?” Your voice came from the receiver, laughing slightly.

Mike’s heart nearly leaped out of his ribcage. “Y/N?!” He shouted. He was so alarmed because your voice sounded perfectly okay. “This- isn't some sort of prank, right?” He whispered in denial.

Your airy chuckles came crackling over the phone. “Mike, I'm okay. I'm at work. I just went on break and saw you were sending me like, three or four voicemails. Is everything okay?” You asked him seriously now.

Mike pulled over on the side of the street and teared up in disbelief. He ran a hand through his hair after putting the car in Park.

Abby was very confused by this entire situation. She was looking out the windows with her brows scrunched. “What's going on, Mike?” She asked.

“Ah, I hear a certain little girl is there with you?” You teased.

“Yeah, uh…” Mike mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “Listen, I- I have no idea what happened. I just heard you were in danger and I panicked and didn't think things through and-”

“Oh, Mike. I'm coming over to you. Are you out of the house already?” You asked.

“I'm… right next to your work building, actually.” Mike chuckled breathily.

“Ah, I see. I'll be right out, okay?” You told him.

“M’kay.” He muttered, sniffling slightly, causing you to frown.

“I’ll see you outside.” You said before hanging up.

Mike pulled into a parking spot in front of your workplace and you walked right out the front door and trotted towards his car. He couldn't believe it.

There you were, perfectly fine and alive. You got in on the passenger side of the car. “Hi, Mike.” You greeted him softly.

And just like that, the man crumbled, and tears spilled. He hid his face in his hands and his shoulders shook with each sob.

“Oh, come here, buddy.” You cooed, unbuckling his seatbelt and hugging him over the console between the both of your seats. You pet his messy hair softly. Clearly, he had been in a rush to get here to you, for he didn't have the time to brush his hair and get himself tidy. “It's okay. I'm here, I'm okay, I'm alive.” You whispered reassuringly, holding him to your chest as best as you could in this awkward setting of the front seats in his car.

Eventually, you had all gotten home and you made dinner, as you felt obligated to, considering you unintentionally scared Mike that day.

Once Abby was sent to bed, Mike revealed that he had a dream that you had gotten into an accident at work, and to him, it felt so real that he believed it was reality.

“I’m so sorry that happened, baby. Dreams are so weird.” You told him, hugging him for the nth time that night.

Mike had a special little spot under your chin and on your collarbone where he could just bury his face into. He whimpered softly, holding your shirt in his balled fists.

You kissed his forehead softly as he relaxed in your arms, moving his head down so it was now in your lap, resting against your thighs and using them for pillows. You played with his hair and hummed softly, the quiet sound of your singing gently lulling him to sleep, and soon you found yourself joining Mike in the realm of dreams.

>> end.

#five nights at freddy’s movie #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddys #fnaf mike #mike schmidt #hurt/comfort #tw nightmares #tw night terrors #poor little meow meow #poor baby #unemployed #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson simps get y’all’s juice #mike schmidt x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #second person pov

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gloxk · 7 months

Text

“Mary Jane.”

Gojo satoru ~

Summary: Your best friend was a snake. She slept with your boyfriend at a party. Everything shattered when you saw them. Your heart broke, leaving you with hatered and resentment. But two can play that game. Didn't she know? Karma’s a bitch.

W/C : 2k+. READING TIME: 10 minutes.

Setting: Modern Au, Reader is in their 20’s.

Song inspo:The best I ever had (Limi)/ Birthday S*X (Jeremih)/Drunk in love (The weekends version)/What you need(the weekend.)

A/N: Happy kinktober. It’s been a minute. (I've returned just for this years kinktober) idk i’ve just been busy fr. I haven’t been writing at all 😭. But I was on tik tok right, and i saw this lil video abt a story. So yall know those reddit stories? Bro this story was fucking outrageous, i tell ya. So boom bro got cheated on by his gf and she slept w his best friend. I was like damnnnnn 💀 ain’t no way. So bro turned around n fcked his ex best friends sister. The crazy thing is HE RECORDED IT. AND HE SENT IT TO BRO. I got carried away w this one. (I was high asf.) But anyway please enjoy! My grammar might be fucked up i didn’t feel like prof reading. Mdni/ageless blogs you will be blocked. 17+.

Warnings: F/M relations,Jealousy, angst if you squint, friend dumping, lewd behavior, DRUGS & alcohol. (mary J) mentions of Ex, BJ’s, Male receiving, unprotected sex (I got a little nasty w this one)

————————————————

You sat there disappointed in your dry phone. It was like looking at a blank screen. The night was cold, dark, and quiet. Everything was different now that you cut off your toxic-ass best friend. Deleting all the pictures and videos of you two. All the happiness and laughter y’all had shared just for it to be ruined in a few hours. The incident only happened a few days ago.

You decide to scroll through your alt account’s Instagram feed hoping to see something interesting. Something interesting indeed popped up. A little green circle around your ex-best friend’s profile picture. “Curiosity killed the cat ya’know?”, It surely killed you as soon as you clicked it. She was with your Ex. Your face scrunched in disbelief. You couldn’t help but muster up a pitiful laugh. What was going through her goddamn mind? Did she know the alt belong to you? Was the random pinterest boy profile picture not convincing enough? You nearly tossed your phone to the ground you felt tears bubbling up in your eyes. You remember the whole thing like it was yesterday. The horrible things you said to each other. But one thing she said in particular stuck in your head. “You aren’t even together anymore! Why the fuck do you care Y/n?”, Those were the last words she said to you, the last words you needed to hear to leave her alone. It hurt you so much, the girl you known from middle school betrayed you.

It was late maybe around 11 pm. Your mind was filled with anger. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You told her everything and she did the same. You two grew up together. When you introduced your boyfriend and best friend they hit it off. They were so cool with each other that it seemed like a dream come true. Having your best friend actually like your boyfriend was extremely rare to come by. Your dream came short-lived after you found them fucking in a bathroom at a party. It hurt so fucking bad. You clenched your shirt trying not to cry. That night broke you, you lost everything in 4 hours. All it took was a couple of shots and one blunt to have your whole world crash. In a fit of rage, you decided to go through her entire Instagram feed. Scrolling through every single post. In a recent post from earlier today, you saw a dump of her stepbrother. All of the pictures were silly, cute pictures of him. You couldn’t lie, he was fine as fuck. You saw her stepbrother a couple of times when y'all were younger, but god did puberty hit him good. He was tall and muscular with a sharp jawline. He has white hair and beautiful ocean-colored eyes. He had a couple of arm tattoos as well. You sat there trying to remember his name. You looked over the caption trying to find something leading to him, the caption read: “HAPPY 19th BIRTHDAY @satoruxgxjo! I hope 19 treats you good lil, bro :).” That was his name! You finally remembered him. Satoru gojo, it was definitely moan-able. You DM’D him almost immediately.

(Y/n): “Hey! I saw your birthday was earlier and I wanted to wish you a happy 19th birthday!” You didn’t know what you expected him to say back to that. You didn’t know if you wanted him to immediately block you or text you back. Maybe if he blocked you would be able to move on and heal. But all you wanted was revenge. After two minutes you got a notification from Instagram. (satoruxgxjo): “Yo, I appreciate it. it’s been a minute. How have you been?” A smug smile arose on your face. You instantly texted him back. (Y/n): “I’ve been amazing. Recently I had just got some za from a friend and since it’s your birthday maybe we can roll up?” You watch as your text goes from Sent to Seen. Your heart immediately went faster.(satoruxgxjo): “Lmao? That was quick but sure. I don’t mind. Addy?” Your face was sinister. If he could see your face right here probably think twice about his current decision. You sent him your location, (Y/n): “I mean it’s not like we don’t know each other Saturo, just pull up :) We can catch up!”, You were so happy that this was gonna work out perfectly. (satoruxgxjo): “Who is Saturo? It’s Satoru* n I’m otw.” That happiness quickly faded into embarrassment. How could you forget his name already? You repeated it 10x to remember it, while repeating his name you quickly got up and rushed upstairs.

You dressed yourself in a loose shirt that hung off your shoulders, your chest was the only thing holding it up. Underneath you made sure to treat your guests to an easy reveal no bra and pink Victoria's Secret lace panties. Your hair was messy letting little strands of hair frame your face. You rushed downstairs to set everything up, you grabbed an open bottle of Hennessy and accompanied it with a jar of bud including a pack of Raw’s. Everything was set for the most part. You dimmed the lights and played some sensual music. You turned your TV on to some random Netflix show to make it seem casual. You soon turned your attention to the door as the doorbell rang. A wicked smile placed on your face, your hips swaying to the music. You opened the door and smiled at your victim—I mean visitor. “Heyy~.” Your voice filled with a welcoming tone. Luring him in like a fisherman. “Hey, Y/n.” He had a basic white shirt on, and his muscular body filled it out nicely. His lower half was hidden behind grey sweatpants, He had on white cross that were no longer white. His tall frame continued to tower over you. He sounded so nonchalant, but his blue eyes told a different story. He couldn’t stop looking at your bare shoulders. “Come in hun.” You moved out of his way and motioned him to the couch. The table caught his attention immediately. You made your way to the kitchen swaying to the beat of the music. “Henny? Whatcha got this for?” He picked up the bottle with an eager smile. “Why else Satoru?” You winked at him. Watching him open the bottle and pour himself a shot. “Well, Hopefully, it’s not for little ole me. God, you wouldn’t make such a silly mistake and give an underage boy Hennessy? Right?” He asked mocking you. A smug expression on his face. You couldn’t wait to wipe it off. “Oh of course not! I would never do such a disgraceful thing. But..I won’t tell if you won’t.” He threw his head back and he gulped down the shot of liquor. The burning sensation only made him crave it more. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” He chuckled as he watched you sit down on the couch. He soon followed you and plopped down beside you. “You ever rolled before?” You looked at him as you picked up the grinder. “Nah, I’m more of a pipe or hookah person. Ya’know?” You giggled at him. He was falling into your trap without even knowing. “Lemme show you how to roll then.”. You took him through the basic steps. Letting your hands guide his. After a few attempts, he was able to get a good enough roll for a beginner. “And now ya gotta lick it.” You bent over his lap using his muscular arm to hold yourself up. You dragged your tongue over the paper making sure to seal it. You took the joint from him and began to light it. His eyes watched you dangerously. After a couple of pulls, you handed it back over to him. He pulled a heavy hit making him cough. You poured another shot for the both of you. Handing him a glass of liquor. “Oh? Is that for me? How kind.” Your hand sat between his thighs. “Of course.” He took the glass and knocked it back, and you followed his lead.

You weren’t slightly drunk nor were you high. But you couldn’t say the same for Satoru. He almost finished your bottle of Hennessy. His head was between your neck and shoulder. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, you didn’t particularly care what he was babbling about. He was lying between your legs using your chest to keep him propped up. His hands rubbing your thigh, “Mm..please.” He mumbled desperately. “I told you not to drink too much Gojo. Now look at you.” You laughed as you rubbed his head. “.. I know. m’ sorry. Please y/n. Please.” You were confused you didn’t know what he was asking for to be quite frank. “You should get an Uber to take you home.” You nudged him to get off of you. He didn’t budge at all. His eyes looked up at you pleading with you. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay with you. lemme stay.” He was so whiny while he was drunk it was pissing you off. “Okay, you can stay.” He hummed softly in response. “upstairs?” You whispered in his ear, he nodded his head. You moved off the couch pulling him off with you. You walked him up the stairs to your bedroom. He was stumbling up the stairs you had to hold him up. Making it to your room in one piece was the hardest part. Opening the door his hands never left your body, If anything they became more needy. His fingers roamed around your back as he began to tug at your shirt.

You grabbed his hands telling him to stop. “I don’t know...if we should do this...I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like this.” You smiled as you pushed him on the bed. Of course, she wouldn’t like her brother sleeping with her ex-best friend. But that made it more exhilarating. Satoru groaned at your words. Bringing up what you and his sister had going on at a time like this was a low blow. “Don’t fuck with me Y/n. You’ve been touching me all night. Saying little shit to me. I’m ready now, and you’re gonna act like this?” You heard the frustration in his voice, looking down at his gray sweats pants you saw what else was frustrated. You laughed at him. “Oh look who’s mad at me. I’m just trying to respect you and your sister's relationship.” Your hands go under his shirt and rub his abs. He laughed as his arm covered his face. “Ah, so I understand why she called you a conniving bitch now.” Your smug face was quickly wiped with confusion. “Oh…Yeah? She gonna think I’m more than conniving after this.” You grabbed him by his hair pulling him closer. Your lips clashed against his, you could taste the intoxication on his tongue. The kiss became sloppy fairly quickly. His hands continued to roam over your back. He followed your lead not allowing your mouth to leave his. He yanked at your shirt, he wanted to pull it off of you. Sitting on his lap, you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side. His hands went up to cup your breasts. His fingers ran over your hardened nipples, his expression was darkened with lust. “So fckin pretty.” He sat up leaving kisses on your neck and chest. You assisted him in taking off his shirt and tossed it over to yours. Leaving kisses on his neck and slowly moving downward to his chest. Taking your precious time with him. He was so impatient, whining if you didn’t kiss him. You used your finger to trace his v-line teasing him enough to push him. You got up and slowly removed his sweatpants leaving him in his tight boxers. Licking your lips at the sight, it was a delectable sight indeed. Tracing the bulging print through his Ethikas. “Oh my god…” You stuttered in disbelief, this man was packing. Satoru felt you tugging his boxers, he lifted his hips and allowed you to yank them off of him. The cold air hit him drawing out a long sigh. Those blue eyes watching you with a dangerous glint, those eyes screaming out for you. “don’t play with me Y/n.” He whispered, almost as if he was begging you to make him feel something. You seated yourself between his thighs, looking at him with awe. Your hands running up and down his hardened dick. You gave him kitten licks on his tip, licking away any pre-cum. He growled at the teasing, “C'mon.” his hand caressingyour cheeks. You smiled as you quickly put your mouth around the tip and bobbed your head up and down.

His tip hits the back of your throat every time. Satoru’s hand pushed your head down so he could feel you deep-throat him, “Fuuucckk, just like that.” You pulled your head back with an angry expression. “Nobody likes a head pusher.”, You glared at him. “Nobody likes a fucking teaser.” He mumbled. You laughed at his audacity as if he was the one in control. You slipped off your underwear and climbed on top of him. Letting him slide in slowly, inch by inch. You threw your head backward, rolling your neck. Low moans escaped your mouth as you felt his hips grinning against yours. “Go faster.” His tone completely shifted from whiny and desperate to frustration. He wanted more, He needed more. It wasn’t enough for him. You looked so pretty going up and down on him. His eyes watched your body lift itself off of him and right back down. Your nails dug holes in his chest, “That fuckin’ hurts Y/n.” He gave you a sadistic smile as he dug his nails into your hips. You shrieked in pain. You could quite literally feel his nails penetrate your skin. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t care less about anything other than cumming. Your mind became foggy and filled with a certain haze. “Mm. Keep going. Dnt stop.”, Those words left Satoru’s mouth, his thrusts were sloppy and no longer had rhythm. His fingers found their way to your clit and played with you to make sure you came before him. Your moans filled the room as you were so close. You stopped as you finally reached the bliss you been begging for, panting heavily trying to regain the breath you once had. The feeling of warm liquid filling you was a slap in the face. You soon realized you didn’t use protection. You looked down at Satoru whose eyes were closed with a smile of his face. “Oops, m’sorry i’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.” His hand gripped your ass while you sat there in disbelief. How could you fuck up this bad? You smiled as you seen him cover his face once again, “Don’t worry about it. I have some in the bathroom.”. You got off of him and made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back you saw sleeping Satoru, under your sheets wrapped around your blanket. It was a cute sight to see him so vulnerable, you were about to fuck up his life. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling him. He turned around and placed his head between your breast, his arm wrapped around your lower back pulling you close. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures. This bitch was gonna know “Fuck my man, I fuck your brother.”. You unblocked her number to send her a little treat. “When Satoru comes home tomorrow tell him I had a wonderful time. (3 attachments sent).”.

You turned off your phone and cuddled the sleeping boy, kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Mm, she's gonna fuck you up when you get home.” You whispered in his ear. His phone was soon blowing up, From his mom and sister. “I don't care, you don't know how long I've been waiting to fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet.

#gojo x y/n #gojo saturo #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk smut #jjk x you #kinktober

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babyjakes · 2 years

Text

the devil's thirst.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

summary | stupid little babies who wanna act big need to be reminded how utterly pathetic and helpless they truly are.

pairing | mean!daddy!lloyd hansen x little!reader

warnings | mean!mean!mean!daddy!lloyd like so mean, very cruel!!, denial as punishment (no cumming for a month), lloyd is a sick bastard (canon) and threatens to cut various body parts off, fake soft!daddy!lloyd for a hot minute, my strawberry shortcake trauma insertion, mocking/degredation, restraints (rope), watersports (forced wetting), fingering, black rubber gloves bc lloyd doesn't like messes (whew daddy!!), forced orgasm, squirting (i mean, ,, it's also pee but, ,, ,, you know), pussy slapping/clit spanking, big big crying kink, so much cursing, name-calling (whore, slut, bitch, all the good ones), no aftercare/lloyd makes her clean up the mess D-:, dude wtf even is this and why did i write it :^))))

word count | 2,742

an | idek what to say about this one so i'm just gonna link this hate anon i got about having a piss kink where i responded with piss ari and cursed the haters bc i think it's funny and neat okay byeeee-

Unsurprisingly, when it came to being your daddy, there were certain parts of the job that Lloyd found especially enjoyable. He did it all well, of course- took care of your needs and wants, doted on you, treated you like the princess you were. But he would be lying if he said the darker, more sinister parts of the role weren't his favorite; it was only in his nature. He was cruel, wicked down to the bone, and that meant strict rules, along with even stricter punishments. Considering this, you were never one to act up much.

Much.

When you did end up on Lloyd's bad side, the consequences were usually swift and scathing. One philosophy he held was that it wasn't a true punishment unless he had you in tears. And being the notorious torture fanatic he was, he had plenty of methods to extract those pretty sobs from poor little you. All in all, your daddy was very hands-on with your discipline. So the one time he finally decided to punish you by depriving instead of dealing out, you knew you had taken things too far. But it was too late to do anything about it. Lloyd Hansen gave second chances to no one.

"A month?" you exclaimed in horror, jumping down from your seat on the dark polished wood of his study desk. Hands coming to rest on your hips over your frilly tennis skirt, you stood with shock still clear on your face.

Not even pausing to look up at you, Lloyd nodded as he continued to sort through the paperwork before him. He knew it drove you crazy; that's why he did it. The more worked up he could get you, the better. He loved seeing you pout and fuss. "That's right, princess. A whole month, no playtime. And if you even so much as think about touching that pretty little clit of yours, I'll cut it off and feed it to the dogs."

Grimacing in disgust, you somehow found it in you to protest, "Ew- no, Daddy! You wouldn't!"

Chuckling softly at your outrage, the man nodded, "Oh, I would, sweetheart. Actually- maybe I'd keep it, put it in a nice frame up on the wall. You know how much Daddy loves your little button, wouldn't wanna let it go to waste. Oh- and the same goes for your nipples, young lady. Daddy knows his naughty girl can get off on those alone when she's needy enough."

Huffing softly to yourself, you crossed your arms, stomping the rubber bottom of your platform Mary Jane against the floor. Finally looking up to meet your gaze, Lloyd smiled widely, having gotten exactly what he wanted: a precious, pouty baby. How cute.

"No fair, Daddy," you whimpered, bottom lip puffing out in an attempt to change his mind.

"No fair? Why's that, princess? What were you expecting when you stole Daddy's bike for a midnight joyride, a fucking pat on the back? A new pair of shoes?"

"N-no, but..." Sniffling, your frown deepened. "You never give me punishments like this, Daddy. Always just..."

"Give you what you want? Play rough with you, let you cum?" the man finished your sentence for you as you lowered your head in shame; there was no denying that he was right. "Oh, you'll get that too, sweetheart. This is just part one of your lesson, so quit being a brat and whining about it, or I'll double the time."

"No- please, Daddy!" you were quick to beg, eyes bulging with tears as he did nothing but laugh at your pathetic desperation.

"Good. Now get out of here, Daddy's got a meeting. You might wanna take a walk around the garden, baby. Don't think you're gonna like the sounds I'm about to pull from these bastards."

When the promised day arrived, you were a much different girl than you were only a month ago, any last hints of brattiness and defiance completely put out as you could really only be described using one word at that point: needy. In the morning as he helped you get ready, your daddy dressed you up in your favorite Strawberry Shortcake pinafore with matching pink stockings held in place by pretty lace garters, and of course he let you wear your favorite lingerie set, the baby pink lace with little strawberry patterning just so adorable against your perfect body. With how cute you were looking, it took everything in him not to bend you over your bed and fuck you into oblivion as soon as you were all dressed and ready for the day. "So beautiful for me, angel," Lloyd cooed against your hair as he held you on his lap, running a gentle hand up and down your back. "You remember what today is, don't you?"

Big eyes blinking innocently, you nodded, too busy holding your breath to respond.

"I knew my princess wouldn't forget. Daddy can't wait to give you the rest of your punishment- and some relief, of course." Smiling down at you, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing, "But in order to get all that, you need to be a good girl for Daddy first, okay? I've got some work to wrap up in my office, and I want you sitting pretty on my lap while I do it. Do you understand?"

"Yes Daddy," you nodded obediently, jumping slightly as his other hand came up to rub against your thigh. Cheeks burning in embarrassment, you bit your lip, knowing better than to start begging early.

"Oh sweetheart, you poor thing," your daddy crooned sympathetically as he ran his fingers delicately over your trembling skin. "Look at how badly you need me- are those tears in your eyes already, princess?"

Not wanting to open your mouth in fear of breaking down completely, you simply let out a weak whimper, turning to tuck your face against the fabric of the man's shirt. Chuckling at your actions, Lloyd wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss down on the top of your head. "Okay, okay- Daddy'll quit teasing," he promised. "Now come on, little one. I have a surprise waiting for you in the study."

Lifting you into the air with ease, he was kind enough to carry you all the way from the bedroom to the office, letting you stay hidden away in the safety of his familiar scent and the darkness of his shirt. "Don't tell me you're gonna be a teary-eyed baby all day," he frowned as he flipped on the lights to illuminate the grand room, stepping over a bit and rousing you in his arms. "Hey pumpkin, look- look over on the couch and see what Daddy got you."

Wary eyes cautiously coming out of hiding, you glanced over to the plush brown sofa, a small gasp escaping your lips as you whispered, "Strawberry sodas! Daddy, those are my favorite!"

"I know, my love. That's why I got them for you, thought maybe you'd like a treat for being such a good girl all month for me. You wanna have one while you sit on my lap?" the man offered as he gently placed you down on your feet, smiling as you gave him an eager nod of a response. "Go grab one, baby. Actually, make it two. Daddy'll try one with you, can't remember the last time I had something sweet."

As you skipped across the rug to grab the pretty glass bottles full of sparkling pink juice, Lloyd settled himself down in his black leather office chair, smirking silently at the sight of you bouncing in excitement from the "treat" he had bought for you. "Look Daddy, cute baby strawberry cartoons on the bottles!" you beamed as you made your way back over to him, climbing up to straddle one of his sturdy thighs as you faced in his direction, handing him one of the drinks.

"So cute, angel. Almost as cute as you," he smiled widely as he helped you pop off the cap before opening his own. "Cheers," he sang as he tapped the glasses together softly, trying to keep from salivating as he watched your puffy lips pink with lip gloss wrap around the mouth of the bottle.

Taking a few gulps, you hummed lovingly at the sweet taste. "Soo good, Daddy. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome, princess. Go ahead, drink up. The whole box's for you."

"You stupid, stupid baby."

Choking against the wad of lace shoved between your sticky lips, you let out a humiliated whine as Lloyd stood above you, towering over your trembling form with his hands pressed neatly behind his back. "Look at you," he snapped, "couldn't even get through tying you up without the tears starting. Isn't this what you wanted? You were so sad when Daddy wouldn't wreck your pretty little cunt on the spot- remember that, whore?"

Sniffling pathetically into your spit-soaked panties, all you could do was cry harder at the man's degrading words. Sobs wracking through your chest as you stared wide-eyed up at the terrifying man above you, you struggled to comprehend everything that had happened in such a short span of time. Where had your loving, doting Daddy gone? You should've been suspicious when he was so kind that morning, but silly little you, all you had thought was he had woken up in a good mood. Now it was clear that he had much darker intentions settling just below the surface the entire time; it was all a part of his game. He had played you like a pathetic little pawn.

Kicking your legs with what little strength you had left, you tried to struggle against the tight ropes holding you bound and open against the smooth leather of the office chair, but it was no use- you couldn't move more than a fraction of an inch in any direction. Watching you writhe and attempt to escape, Lloyd laughed a loud and mean laugh, his spit hitting your face as he grinned in sick delight. "Poor little slut. Can't get out of Daddy's knots. You know better than to squirm, sweetheart, but I'll let you get away with it this time. I have so much fun in store for you, I don't wanna waste any time on trivial matters like spanking your nasty little fuckhole."

Icy eyes trailing down, the man's gaze settled on your exposed pussy, the soft, delicate petals of your sex puffy from excitement and neglect. "Oh baby," Lloyd cooed, crouching down in front of you as his eyes became level with your dripping heat, "look so sensitive already. Haven't been touched in weeks, and it really shows. Daddy's gonna have so much fun with you. Aren't you excited, angel? Isn't this what you wanted?"

Crying harder against your makeshift gag, you shook your head desperately, a wicked smile forming on his face as your daddy nodded knowingly. "No? Why's that, princess?" Reaching out a hand, he snatched the panties from between your teeth, giving you only a moment to cough and recover from the forced intrusion. "Speak."

Lower lip trembling terribly as you fought back stronger sobs, your voice came out in shaky gasps as you stuttered, "P-please Daddy... p-please! Have'ta- please... h-have'ta go p-potty!"

Pure depraved thrill shone in Lloyd's eyes as you let out your admittance. "Stupid, stupid baby. Drank all those strawberry sodas, how many was it again?" Warm tears rolling down your cheeks, you whimpered with heavy regret, your tummy throbbing against the ropes holding you so tightly in place. "And now look at you, so full- you could nearly burst. Stupid fucking baby. Never use your fucking brain, do you? Time to teach you how tiny and dumb you really are, slut. You wanna know what happens when little girls cum with a tummy this full?" he asked cruelly, reaching into his back pocket to pull out a pair of black nitrile gloves, snapping them onto his large hands for a dangerously tight fit. "They piss all over themselves. Like the pathetic fucking babies they are."

The panties being shoved back in your mouth knocked the wind out of you, but it was two of Lloyd's thick fingers piercing into your drooling folds that had your eyes rolling back into your head as you struggled to catch air. Digits pounding brutally in and out of your aching walls, the man quickly made you into a sputtering mess, the friction provided by your slick and the rubber of the gloves sending burning shocks through your gut and up your spine. You begged, pleaded through the fabric wedged between your lips, but it was no use; Lloyd would get what he wanted. He always got what he wanted.

"So fucking wet, little slut- such a fucking mess you're making," he grunted as he increased the speed of his fingers, focusing his attention on the tender spot he knew could get you to snap in seconds. Warmth building up in your tummy, you did everything you could to fight the urge to release, but it was a losing battle. "Needy little whore went all month without getting to cum once- no way you'll last long. Horny little bitch, always ready to take whatever Daddy wants to shove up her filthy little cunt."

Ripping his fingers from your tight grip, he smacked his gloved hand down several times against your tender pussy, dissolving you into a squeaking, sobbing mess as your flesh burned agonizingly from the assault. "Stupid-" smack, "little-" smack, "baby-" smack, "gonna-" smack, "squirt-" smack, "all-" smack, "over-" smack, "and there's nothing she can do about it," he grinned widely as he shoved his fingers back in, his other hand coming up to keep smacking over your throbbing clit, "absolutely nothing. Can scream and cry 'til she's blue in the face, but Daddy doesn't care. Daddy's gonna make you cum, little girl. Gonna make you gush all over yourself, 'n there's nothing you can do about it. So keep fucking crying, you pathetic little bitch. Get those pretty cheeks nice and wet for me- maybe if you're good I'll fuck your face when I'm done."

Speeding up his thrusts once more, the thumb of his other hand settling in to rub tight little circles harshly against your burning nub, there was nothing you could do but lay there and take it as Lloyd brought you to the edge of climax within minutes. Noticing the growing look of terror on your face, the man's crooked smile grew wider as he taunted, "There it is, look at that. Knew she couldn't hold it in. Dumb little babies can't keep themselves from cumming, not when their daddies are finger-fucking their pussies this good. Come on, you fucking whore. Cum for Daddy, make a big fucking mess like the stupid fucking baby you are." With the curl of his massive fingers hitting just the right spot, and the pad of his rubbered thumb stroking painfully against your bundle of nerves, with a broken sob, you heaved as you submitted to your punisher. Your orgasm sprayed out against his relentless ministrations as he laughed cruelly in delight, "That's it. Filthy. Fucking. Baby. Give it to me. Give it all to Daddy."

When the waves of terrible pleasure finally began to subside, you were left gasping for air as Lloyd slowed his hands down to a gradual stop, mercifully reaching up to pull the panties from your mouth to allow you a little more space to breathe. "Dirty little girl, look what a big fucking mess you made," he shook his head heartlessly, rising to his feet as he snapped the gloves off his hands and tossed them to the ground. Grabbing a switchblade from his pocket, he flicked out the metal edge, running it harshly over the ropes holding you in place to set you free.

As soon as your sore muscles were released from their bonds, you collapsed against the sturdy frame of the rolling chair, still struggling to catch your breath as Lloyd spoke to you with disinterest, "Now clean it up. All of it. And throw the clothes away. Stupid little baby, ruined her favorite dress. Covered in piss now, pathetic. Disgusting." Reaching under his desk, he grabbed a roll of paper towels and a bottle of cleaner, tossing them at you, ignoring when you whimpered at them hitting you in the face.

#eun's writing #the devil's thirst #lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen smut #lloyd hansen fanfiction #daddy!lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #chris evans #chris evans smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x y/n #lloyd hansen one shot #lloyd hansen imagine #the gray man fanfiction

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cockdestroyer32 · 6 months

Text

home.

peter b. parker x fem!reader

word count: 2190

summary: you're used to taking care of peter, but today, you're sick, and he's ready to take care of you.

a/n: yes him again what about it

The apartment was awfully quiet. The sounds of a knife tapping against a cutting board and of water bubbling inside a pot were replaced by an irritatingly calming, yet uncanny, sound of nothing. Peter could hear the occasional car honking from the busy streets of New York underneath him and the distant sound of the television in your bedroom, but he still missed the sound of your voice babbling to him about the most random thing in the entire planet, all so he wouldn’t linger in the moment he had to sign the paper that definitively cut the string that tied him and MJ together. You’d sit next to him and the both of you would have dinner while watching an episode of one of those random detective shows that always seem to be on TV at any hour, and just for a little while, things would feel normal. But that’s not happening today, nor on any day of the rest of the week. ‘Cause you’re sick.

When you get sick, you act like you’re on death’s door. You’ll just lie in bed all day looking like a baby who got their favorite toy taken away. And you get clingy. When you and Peter were both 20, living together in a tiny apartment after college robbed you of every last dime, it was normal for you to cling to him during these moments. The flu brought out a sort of neediness in you you didn’t understand. The first time it’d happened, he’d snickered and very gently pushed you away after, a very generous, 10 minutes of hugging. Defeated, you retrieved to your room, throwing your body on the mattress, where you lay on your stomach, your cheek and the corner of your upper lip squished and elevated from your awkward position. You didn’t even get under the blankets, so melodramatically tired you refused to lift the covers over your shoulders. Though hours later, you’d found Peter had done it for you instead, his head buried on your shoulder and his arm draped over your ribs.

You were 99% sure he did it because he felt guilty. Deep down, Peter B. Parker had always been a softie.

You’d gotten used to your sickly routine, though when Peter met Mary Jane, and shortly after you met your own partner, the snuggling obviously stopped. Peter got down on one knee for MJ and both of you moved out of the little apartment you’d learned to call home.

Now at 38 and with a divorce on his belt, Peter’s the one clinging to you. It’d be kind of funny really, if it wasn’t for how crushing it was to have to hold him as he held back tears.

But today there were no tears. In fact, there was none of the slouching or huffing or eyebrow furrowing that’d plagued Peter for the past month. He’d felt…normal, for once. For the first time in a while, he wasn’t thinking of the red hair and the dimples and freckles, he was thinking of the arms that wrapped around him and held him tight every day for the last 30 days, the voice that told him it was okay and the hands that stroked his hair and made them dinner every night. The hands that were clutching to a blanket at this very moment.

He got up.

He was worried for you. Yes, it was just the flu, but he knows how you get. Plus, after how you’ve taken care of him the last month the least he could do was…well, everything.

He walked over to your bedroom and very slowly nudged the door that had already been open a few inches. Inside, you were in bed, underneath the covers, one end of the blanket tucked under your head as you used it as a pillow. There was that familiar frown, your eyes looking like you might just start crying at any second, though they’re never glassy, the lips that almost pout, and quiver every now and then when you shut your eyes tightly as you just can’t bear the stuffy nose and scratchy throat anymore.

It is a strangely adorable sight.

You look at the TV, though Peter is almost sure you’re not paying attention, and you don’t look at Peter who now stands at the doorway either, you probably see him there, you’re just too grumpy to look or say anything. Another thing Peter is almost sure about.

Peter’s hand reaches for the back of his shoes and he pulls them off, dropping them to the ground without much care. Now displaying his white socks, he crawls into bed beside you and drops his body on the mattress with a groan. He stares at your back and the bit of your cheek he can spot for a little while, before finally speaking up.

“Wanna cuddle?” he asks.

“Oh, thank God,” you flip around on the bed, not wasting a second as you wrap your arms around him and gleefully place your cheek over his chest. He chuckles and puts his palm on the back of your head, cradling it. Comfy.

“You sure this is alright with you?” you ask quietly, not opening your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s alright,” he says. “I kind of missed this actually…”

“…You missed me clinging to you while I can’t stop coughing and have a runny nose?” Despite how worn-out you feel, you smile. You’ll always have the energy to poke fun at him. He laughs.

“I mean…it does feel like old times a little bit, doesn’t it?”

“I suppose it does.”

“…Remember when we stayed in bed all day binging The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air?”

You chuckle, “Yeah, I do.”

“It was a good day.”

“It was nice, yeah.” you reply, a tiny smile covering your lips. Though it’s quickly cut off by a nasty, old-man cough arising from the back of your throat which makes you have to lean your head back and away from the warmth of Peter’s chest, releasing the cough against the fabric of the hoodie that covers your elbow. Peter looks down at you, his hand that had been stroking your hair up until this point not ceasing.

“You alright?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” Though the tiny smile is gone from your face and you’ve gone back to your usual “sickly” expression. You rest your head back on his chest.

“You need your nutrients, have you been eating?”

“Yeah, mostly snacks. I don’t have the energy to cook.”

“I could make you some chicken soup if you’d like.” His voice is oh, so genuine, but you stay quiet for far too long, your silence telling a whole story. A new smile forms on your lips.

“That won’t be necessary,” you reply, a chuckle leaving your lips at the end of the sentence.

“What?” He smiles widely, “My chicken soup is not that bad!”

“Yes, it is. It’s terrible, Peter.” Another chuckle escapes you.

“My cooking is not as bad as you say it is.”

“It is. The first time I tried your chicken soup, I swear I wound up sicker than how I already was. I’m pretty sure you gave me a stomach bug.”

“No, I did not!” He exclaims, laughing.

“Yes, you did!” You say, “For the rest of the week I was so lightheaded and nauseated, I don’t know what the hell you put in there but I could swear I was turning into a zombie.”

You both laugh, “I’m sorry, you just do not have Aunt May’s skills.”

He sighs, his laughter calming down though a wide smile still plays at his lips. He pulls you closer to him again. “Well, no one does.”

“That’s true.” You bury your face against his chest, your nose right in front of his heart. His frame is much bigger than yours, and his whole body can envelop yours with ease, like securing you in a little tent of warmth.

Peter doesn’t even notice you dozed off. And when he does his arm reaches for the remote controller on the nightstand, his other hand holding the back of your head as he tries not to wake you up.

He could leave, of course. But he won’t. He’d be lying if he said it was purely out of the desire to care for you. He did want to, but it was mostly for him. He wanted to have you in his arms and to stroke your messy hair and pretend like you two were back in your tiny New York apartment, trying to figure your lives out, long before any of the draining life stuff had happened. He closes his eyes, and for a second, you’re both 20 again, and he hears the distant sounds of a laugh track fade out in the background.

Peter wakes up to the sound of retching. He’s lying on his other side now, his belly and cheek pressed against the mattress as his eyes slowly open to stare at the dresser in front of him. It’s darker in the room, and he’s not sure what time it is. There’s a sob and more retching, and Peter turns his head. His eyes squint and close as he notices the bathroom light is on, and the door is wide open. He sees you’re not in bed and only then does his muzzy brain process the fact that the retching sounds are coming from you. You’re throwing up. He flings the covers aside and gets out of bed, hurriedly making his way to the bathroom. When he gets to the door he sees you sitting before the toilet, expelling the rejected matter from your stomach. He quickly kneels down beside you and pulls your hair back, holding the strands in his palm like a makeshift ponytail. His other hand rubs circles on your back.

“Hey, hey…it’s alright, get it out,” he says soothingly, and when you sniffle, that’s when he tilts his head and notices the tears under your eyes. He catches sight of your wet eyelashes and scrunched-up face right before you bend over the toilet again, throwing up some more. He caresses your back more vigorously.

Once the spew is out of your mouth, you cry, “I’m sorry.”

“What? What are you sorry for?” You don’t answer, but he didn’t really expect you to. You sniffle and sit back down on the ground, letting your body fall against the tile behind you, leaning your head against it. “You okay? You done?” Peter’s hand caresses the side of your face, pushing your hair away from your face. You nod, your eyes are still tightly shut and you look even more miserable than usual.

“I really hate being sick,” you say, finally looking at Peter, almost as a plea.

He chuckles softly, “I know, sweetheart,” He’s never called you that before, but considering your current situation you don’t think it as absurd.

“I didn’t wanna wake you up, I’m sorry.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m glad I was able to be here for you.”

“I know, but…you shouldn’t have to deal with this, this is so nasty.”

“Oh, it’s not nasty,” he shakes his head, looking down. You tilt your head at him. “Alright, maybe it’s a liiiittle nasty.” You smile and let out a chuckle, he does the same. “C’mere,” he says, reaching out and wrapping his arms around you. You rest your cheek on his chest, keeping your lips away from his shirt. He strokes the back of your head again.

“You’re the best flu buddy anyone could ever ask for,” you state and he laughs.

“I don’t think so. I mean…at least your partners could make you soup.”

“Oh, who cares about that? You do this for me instead. And you’re the only one who does it well.”

Peter’s heart inexplicably jumps, and he’s forced to take in a deep breath. For reasons he doesn’t understand, he fully relaxes into your arms.

“Well…good, ‘cause I’m not letting go.”

You chuckle. He makes you feel safe, but he doesn’t think you know you do the exact same for him. Sure, he’s being the lifeboat you need tonight but you’ve been that for him the whole month. In fact, you’ve been that for him for as long as he could remember. So if he had to hold your hair back as you threw up or rub your back or give you medicine or learn how to make some goddamn chicken soup for you, he would. He would do it a hundred times over if it made you feel even a little bit better.

He continues to rub your back and you two remain seated on the bathroom floor. It’s not the prettiest situation, but still, Peter doesn’t feel the need to close his eyes and listen closely for a laugh track. Right now is just perfect.

You keep your head on his chest for a while, before finally lifting it up and looking to the toilet, your hand raising to close the seat and flush.

“Oh, would you look at that?” you say.

“What?”

“That looks like your chicken soup.”

#peter b. parker #peter b parker #peter b parker x reader #peter b parker x y/n #peter b parker x you #into the spider verse #ac repair #spider man into the spider verse #spider man: across the spider verse #spider man itsv fic #spider man fic #spider man x reader #peter parker x reader

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babybatgrimm · 1 year

Text

Exhibition | Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Civilian!Reader

Summery: A morning walk with a very good puppy, and a drunken evening at the 141 base.

Warnings: MDNI 18+ ONLY, SMUT, exhibitionism/agoraphilia (public sex), collared sub, fem!reader, Dom!Simon, size kink, breeding kink, panty vibrator, Sir kink, reader nicknamed Puppy, degradation, Dacryphilia (Crying/tears), blowjob,

A/N: Kinky brain go BRRRRR.

A long one shot story, cause I felt like making a stand alone story.

"Lets go for a walk, Puppy." Simon suggests from the bathroom doorway, watching his partner do her skincare. "You can show off that little black dress I bought you."

She smiles at the idea, looking over at him. "Sounds nice." She replies. "Grab it for me?" She asks, which he nods before walking away.

He soon returns, holding a short, tennis style dress on a hanger, and a pair of Mary Jane heels. "Let's go to the café around the corner." Simon says, handing her the clothes. She smiles up at him.

"Sounds lovely."

The sun of the morning was warm, that air crisp, and the streets almost empty. Simon, insisting a morning walk was needed before the gathering he and his partner were to attend that afternoon.

And so, the pair walked down the street. Simon, as cool and collected as ever, strode down the sidewalk, paying no mind to the stares from the few people passing by. Of course, they stare with reason.

The stares are in fact directed to Simon's partner. A flustered, blushing mess, a thick black collar latched around her neck, a padlock sealing it shut, and a leash connected to the loop on the front of the collar, down to Simon's belt.

The collar is paired with the dress and heels Simon had gotten for her, her hair pulled back by a black ribbon headband.

Her steps are much more wobbly than his. Soft mewls and whines leaving her lips with every step as the vibrator shifts against her overstimulated and throbbing clit. "S-Sir?" she whines, looking up at him with wide puppy eyes as he turns to look at her.

Simon chuckles at her expression before tugging on the leash, pulling her into a small alley, barely wide enough for them to fit. He turns to her, his hand moving to her throat and squeezing gently, using his thumb and forefinger to make her look into his eyes.

"Need it that badly, puppy?" His voice is low, cocky and evil with a smirk to match. She nods eagerly, his free hand moves to his belt, undoing it and pulling his cock from his pants. "Earn it, then."

Without a word, she drops to her knees, ignoring the scrape of the ground beneath her as she takes his cock into her mouth. With slow bobs of the head, her hand moves to stroke the rest of his length.

Simon groans, feeling her moan vibrate through his member and places his hand on the back of her head. He leans against the wall of the alley, looking down into her eyes as she speeds up her movements.

Her head bobs back and forth, making wet slurping sounds that accompany her quiet moans. Simon groans, gripping her hair and forcing his cock into her mouth, hearing her gag softly as he cums down her throat.

Keeping a tight grip on her hair, he pulls her back, a string on her saliva and his cum connecting her tongue to the head of his cock as she pants. "Good puppy. Wall." He commands gruffly.

With a small bounce she gets up from the ground, turning and placing her hands on the wall over each other and by her forehead. Simon rubs his hand up her thigh and over her ass, pulling the skirt of her dress up as he strokes his still hard cock.

He smacks her ass, the sound echoing in the alley, before soothing the spot with gentle rubs. He moves behind her, his hand on her ass moving to cup the vibrator that's in her panties.

With one finger, he pulls her panties to the side and grabs the vibrator. He moves the device in small, slow circles, pulling mewls and soft moans from her, before slowly pulling it out.

With an audible pop, the previously inserted part of the vibrator comes out, glistening with her slick. He smirks, holding it in front of her face as he turns it off. "Suck, and keep quiet." He orders. With a short nod she obeys, taking the glistening rod into her mouth and sucking on it.

Simon smirks at her obedience, rubbing the head of his cock through her folds, prodding at her clit and watching her weeping hole clench around nothing. "So wet for me already, Puppy. Such a good little whore."

In one, hard thrust, Simon plunges his cock inside her, pulling a soft moan from her lips and making wet slopping sounds as he begins to thrust into her.

"Is this what you wanted, puppy? Sir's cock buried deep inside you?" He asks, his voice deep and lustful as his hand moves to grasp her throat once more. "Such a desperate toy that you couldn't wait till we got home, eh?"

Her only reply is a whiney moan as she leans her head back. His grip around her throat tightens, just enough to cut off blood flow momentarily before relaxing again. "Use your words, puppy. Tell sir how much you love his cock." He orders, growling into her ear and pulling the vibrator out of her mouth for her to speak.

"I-I love it Sir." she moans quietly, still obeying his orders despite her thoughts being muddled with every impact against her ass. "Please f-fuck me harder, p-please.~" she whines before he pushes the toy back into her mouth.

Simon smirks once more, kissing from just below her earlobe down her neck. "Your pleasure, my Puppy." He replies, his voice full of lust and desire, obliging her request and forcing his hips hard into her, each impact making a smacking sound that echoes in the alley around them.

Her muffled moans accompany the squelching sound of his cock pulling out to the tip before getting slammed back in to the hilt. Her slick leaking out of her weeping hole, coating his cock and dripping down the back and inside of her thighs.

Each rut in and out of her making spiderwebs of slick, connecting his hips to the back of her thighs and ass where the glistening liquid has spread. Her legs begin to shake, his free hand moving to grip her hip, holding her up as she braces her elbows on the wall.

"Cum for me puppy, and I'll breed your sweet little cunt. That's what you want, isn't it?" He groans, his thrusts speeding up and his grip around her throat tightens slightly.

All she can do is nod, her eyes rolling back as she moans, head held up by his iron grip. Simon feels her walls flutter around him before she climaxes. Her walls tightening around him as she lets out a long, muffled moan.

The friction only drives him, rutting faster into her as he chases his own high. With a few more hard thrusts, he coats her walls white, groaning and gritting his teeth, his grip on her throat getting a bit tighter before letting go altogether.

He pulls out in a sharp motion, before shoving the vibrator back into her dripping hole. Turning the device back on as he stands straight once more. "Such an obedient puppy." He praises, lifting her to her feet by her hips.

He fixes her clothes, setting the skirt of her dress right but it doesn't cover the glistening patches on the back of her thighs. Simon puts his member away, zipping his pants back up and buckling his belt.

Simon moves to leave the alley as she stumbled, legs wobbling as she follows him. "Now, lets go home so we can get ready for you to meet the team." He states, making their way back home.

It was early evening when they were both ready to leave and meet the team. Simon is wearing dress casual, dress pants and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, paired with his usual heavy boots.

She however, is preened to perfection. Her hair shiny and soft, bouncing with every step. A simple red cocktail dress, paired with black fishnets, red heels, and a black clutch. Her makeup is simple. Matte black lips and small winged liner, maskara covered eyelashes and soft ember eyeshadow.

The look making her appear delicate and elegant at the same time. Simon reaches his hand out to her, bowing slightly. "You look gorgeous, puppy."

She giggles, smiling softly as she takes his hand. Simon twirls her in place, the flowing skirt of her dress lifting and fanning out. He pulls her into his chest, dipping her down and locking their lips together.

When he pulls away, her lipstick is a little smudged around the edges. He stands up, pulling her straight and letting her go. He reaches into his pocket before he speaks. "Close your eyes." He commands.

She obeys as usual, her eyes fluttering shut. He slips something around her neck in a swift movement, tying it closed at the back. He grabs her shoulders, moving her gently a few steps. "Alright. Open."

Her eyes flutter back open, meeting her reflection in the mirror. Looking down, she sees a black lace and ribbon decorative collar, a bow on the front with a skull and crossbones charm in the centre.

A smile pulls her lips wide as she turns and hugs him. "I love it!" She cheers, kissing his cheek with a giggle. Simon chuckles quietly.

"Good. You'll wear it tonight then." He states bluntly before leading her to the door and leaving for the restaurant.

"Of course, Sir."

Of course, being who they are, especially when off duty, the team ended up drinking way too much, resulting in getting tossed from the nicer restaurant that they had originally gone to, because of Soap's drunken shouting, and made their way to the base instead.

As they all left the restaurant, Soap grumbles "At least I can have fun at base." Under his breathe. Price, somehow tuned into Soaps bullshit, immediately retorts. "Ye' not blownin' anythin' up, Soap." Which brings a louder, very dramatic groan from Soap.

The team spent the rest of the night drinking till they went to bed, sitting at a round table, big enough to fit them all. Simon had refrained from drinking as much as the others, as did his partner who contently sat beside him, usually sipping water and leaning against his arm.

"Aye, puppy." Simon says, quiet enough so the others don't hear. She hums in questioning reply, tilting her head up to look at him. Her eyes are wide and shimmering with a tipsy haze, he stares down at her, studying her face before speaking again. "Under the table." He commands.

Her cheeks flush a soft pink, glancing over to the rest of the team before carefully climbing under the tabletop. Resting on her knees, she shuffles over to kneel between his calves, her head just above his thighs.

Simon glances down at her before undoing his belt and zip, pulling his already hard length from his pants and sitting straight, pulling himself forward in his chair. She takes hold of his length with one hand, taking the tip between her lips and sucking softly, her other arm used to prop her up.

Her saliva coats the head of his cock before she pushes further down his length. She whines softly, shutting her eyes and bobbing her head. Simon leans his elbows on the table, gritting his teeth and groaning quiet as his hips buck forward slightly, a silent order for more.

So she obeys, pushing as far down his length as she can and bobbing her head faster. Her hand around him starts to move in unison, stroking his remaining length and causing his muscles to tense.

Before long Simon is gritting his teeth hard, groaning as he bucks his hips forward and brings one hand under the table, placing it on the back of her head. The harsh thrust bringing stinging tears to her eyes as his cock pushes into her throat. He holds her there with one hand gripping her hair, his cum spilling down her throat in ribbons as tears roll down her cheeks, bringing her maskara with it.

Simon pants quietly, leaning back in his chair and watching as she leans back, his cock leaving her lips with strings of saliva and cum connecting the two. His hand moves to cup her chin, holding her face up and watching her swallow the remainder of the warm, white liquid.

Zipping his pants, he puts his cock away and buckles his belt once more as she climbs back up into her seat. She doesn't bother to fix her makeup, the dark tear stains running down her cheeks are evidence of what they'd done, if anyone noticed at all in their drunken state.

Simon leans down slightly to whisper in her ear. "Let's go home, and I'll give my good puppy her reward." Which she eagerly nods and smiles up at him.

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buppypuppy · 5 months

Text

three cheers for isolation in fear of lashing out

#i am miserable right now and desperately want to talk to people #specific ines #but ooo haha im not doing good rightnowwee :D #jane mary cry one tear

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cloverthecactus · 9 months

Text

Assistance [Peter B Parker x gn!reader]

summary: peter and his wife split after having their first child, mayday. peter has custody of mayday and comes to her daycare teacher for guidance/help/assistance

warnings: none (purely assistance for peter and mayday)

word count: 1.7k

notes:

not proofread, just plug and post

intentional use of lowercase letters with capital letters being used for certain words, phrases and letters.

no use of y/n (me no like fanfic with y/n)

it was kinda, sorta hard to write as peter so bare with me.

this is not exactly a relationship type of fic

it had been a long day of peter sitting at spider society headquarters and doing nothing but bothering miguel while he worked. peter only bugged miguel because it was the first day that he had been without mayday.

peter and mary jane had recently gotten their second divorce because of peter's carelessness of where mayday is and isn't. because of this, peter enrolled mayday in a nursery so that he knows where she is at all times and so that she doesn't become as stupid as her father and learns something.

an alarm went off in the main building of the headquarters, indicating that day-spiders swapped out with night-spiders. (like shifts)

"well, miguel, it's been fun chatting to ya'. i have to go pick up our child from kindergarten." peter snickered, standing up from a chair placed on the platform in miguel's 'office'

"just leave, peter. AND what do you mean by 'our child' ?" miguel raised his brow as he turned to face peter, annoyed at the male who wore a pink gown to work.

"well, you are always taking care of her..."

"because you always bring her to headquarters and leave her with unreliable people... LIKE HOBIE!"

hobie, who was standing on the floor of the wide office, crossed his hands over his chest and watched as the two men descended with the platform. "i'd have you know im actually a decent babysitter"

peter chuckled and over exaggeratedly pointed at hobie as he said his statement.

"okay, i get it." miguel rolled his eyes as he stepped off the plaform. "now leave. mayday is waiting for you."

peter sighed exhausted and said his goodbyes to the team, opening a portal and changing out of his suit before picking up mayday. he couldn't have people know he was spiderman... especially after the divorce was such a huge thing because of MJ's reputation.

he sighed as he drove to the daycare. his depression and mental health had rapidly decreased and he knew that if he didn't get his act together, it would affect his relationship with the one he loved the most...

mayday...

peter inhaled a deep breath and forced a red smile on his face as he entered through the door. the jingle of the bell on the door woke you up from your blanked-out state. you held a quiet and sleepy mayday in your hands and peter walked in a bit amazed as she has never been that quiet lately.

"hey mr parker. i was afraid you weren't going to show" you joked, standing with mayday and walking over to the front desk, reaching over to give him mayday's bag and her sign-out form.

"yeah, sorry about that." he chuckled, rubbing his neck as you slowly bounced mayday in your arms and he signed the form and took her bag

"oh no, don't stress about that mr parker. if you feel as though you're going to come fetch her later than normal, just call ahead." you smiled and handed mayday to peter. a loud cry erupted from her mouth as he landed in his arms. he tried to lightly bounce her quiet but failed and the small girl in his hands began to reach out to you again. he looked at you and nod, indicating it was okay for you to take her again.

you held the girl in your arms again and slowly began shushing the girl, bouncing and rocking her back and forth in your arms. she slowly stopped crying and smiled as she laid against your chest.

peter raised a brow at you and gestured for mayday to go back into his arms, and when you gave her to peter, she burst into tears again. peter released an exhausted sigh and bounced her in his arms as you did.

"oh, let me guide you" you smiled and took mayday's bag from his hand and set it on the desk. you stood behind peter and guided his hands underneath his daughter and told him where to support her in order for her to feel comfortable. once he held her the way you told him to, you began guiding his movements.

"okay, now slowly rock your arms back and forth while tapping your hand against her back softly and at a rhythmic pace." you spoke softly and stood aside to watch him do what you had instructed.

mayday slowly stopped her loud cries and stuffed her head into peter's chest, and stayed silent. she closed her eyes and began to fall asleep. peter looked down at her and up at you, amazed by what had happened.

"how'd you do that?" he asked with a genuine smile on his face.

"when working in childcare for years, you pick up a few tips and tricks" you softly chuckled and turned off all the lights and electronic devices.

you were the only one left at your daycare. you sent your workers home when the daycare closed and you had to stay an hour longer because peter showed up late.

"i do apologise about being late. the hours at work are a bit harsh and with my ex-wife not being able to take care of her-" peter sighed and took back her backpack from you. "its just a lot of strain on me." you smiled softly and offered to walk the man and his daughter out. "it's alright mr parker."

"call me peter" he returned your soft smile and accepted your offer. you lead him out and turned off all the lights before locking the door and putting on the alarm.

you walked peter to his car and helped him set an extremely sleepy mayday into her cat seat. "now cover her with her blanket-" you spoke softly and looked over his shoulder as you instructed him. he put her teddy between her arms and shut the car door to talk to you.

"thank you for this." he extended his hand to shake yours. "its no problem at all. i know all the struggles of being a single parent." you chuckled softly as you reciprocated the greeting.

"you have kids of your own?" he raised a brow and looked at your hands, seeing if there was an indication that you were married.

'no rings. they're a single parent too...' he thought, reassuring himself.

"oh, no. many of the parents that leave their children at our daycare are single. i helped them with taking care of their kids because it gets tough with work and extra responsibilities. that's why i never had an issue with you coming later than expected." that reassuring smile crept back onto your face which made peter feel more at ease.

although you never knew the struggle of being a single parent, you understood and was offering the help that peter so desperately needed. he glanced back at his young daughter and back at you.

"if you have time, would you mind helping me take care of mayday?" he asked, shrugging his shoulders nervously.

nervous that you would say no and that he would have to struggle alone

you nod your head and smile wide. "sure peter. i wouldn't mind helping you." you pulled out a pen and a piece of paper and wrote down your name and personal contact number. "just call and I'll assist or i'll be right over" he nod and pulled you into a gentle hug. you were a bit startled, but you understood the relief he felt to have someone helping him again, so you hugged him back with equal energy and smiled as he said:

"thank you".

after a few minutes of talking to peter, the two of you bid a farewell and went your separate ways.

turns out the house you had recently moved into was directly opposite peter's. this made your job of helping peter with mayday easier

#fanfiction #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spiderman fanfiction #peter b parker #peter b parker fanfic #fluff #no smut #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #ongoing fanfic #cloverthecactus fanfic #cloverthecactus #peter b parker x reader #cactusspider

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scourgeofgotham · 8 months

Text

FLORA

You’ll belong to him, forever.

(BATTINSON) BRUCE WAYNE x FEM! READER

WARNINGS:

contains: dd/lg, manipulation, kidnapping, dubcon

a/n: this will become a series eventually, there is no smut in this chapter

You woke up. Your eyes sleepily gazed over, suddenly they widened. You were in a room you’d never seen before. It looked like a Victorian manor like it belonged to the Adam’s Family. You tried to get up but realized you couldn’t you were bound to the bed by black ropes. You tried calling out but realized that you’re mouth had something in it. You tried to look down at your feet and saw you were adorned with white stockings and Mary Janes, around your ankles was black rope. You looked at what you were wearing and saw a black frilly dress. This wasn’t what you were wearing before… you’ve never seen these clothes… You looked around the room more and saw a bunch of cobwebs and covered furniture.

The door opened.

You see a figure stepping in. It was a man. You couldn’t make it out clearly from all the shadows obscuring his figure. “Petal,” he softly smiled. You couldn’t tell but he was enamored by how you looked, tied up on that bed— he had to refrain. Not yet.

The door closed behind him.

You stared at him trying to get a good look. All you saw was a black figure. You could barely make it out what you were seeing. He was moving slightly revealing more of his face. He had messy black hair, he was tall, and handsome, and had sharp dark blue eyes. He walked over to the bedside of the bed, taking a seat. “No need to worry sunshine, you’re mine now” he whispered.

You started to cry, and saw his eyes were smudged with black paint. “You’re wondering why you’re here aren’t you?” He sympathized. “Flora, my little fairy, you brought so much sunshine and happiness into my life that I couldn’t handle if you didn’t love me back… or if you never wanted to be mine.” His voice changed going from sweet and soothing to dripping with venom. “So I did what any other man would do and I took you from that awful digusting life you had. You’re gonna be my little dress up doll, and I’m going to cherish you, forever.” He softly smiled.

You screamed into the gag. Tears rolled down your cheeks. Terror filled your eyes. “Don’t be afraid, sunshine” he whispered, brushing your hair. He took the gag out of your mouth and then started kissing your mouth. “Don’t be afraid, my fairy. Just relax, Daddy is here and he’s going to take care of you. You’re Mrs. Wayne now, as soon as you’re obedient and in love with me. I’ll start showing you off as mine. Little Mrs. Flora Wayne. My new and loving wife who will obey my every command. Who will have my children, who will let me do whatever I want? You’ll never leave my side.” He was crazed, looking into your eyes.

He pulls back for a moment then kisses your neck passionately. “You’re mine, my precious little fairy” he mumbles between kisses. The obsession has overtaken his emotions. “Can I let your wrists go or are you going to hurt me, Flora?” Bruce quietly asked. “I don’t want my little dress-up doll to get hurt…” He continued, his voice dripping with love. You nodded slowly. “I’m gonna untie the ropes, but do not try to escape” he warned. He untied the ropes, freeing your hands and legs from the ropes. You try to get up but he pushed you back down on the bed. He laid on top of you, his body touching yours. You feel his warmth against your skin. His face was close to yours, and he kissed you. You were terrified, “Sir?” You trembled, “Why did you kidnap me?” You started to cry again, tears were rolling down your face. “Oh, my sweetest, most precious petal…” he smiled caressing your face, and your cheeks, and running a finger between your eyes to catch your tears. “I had to keep the one who brings me sunshine close” he chuckled, “don’t be afraid, Flora” he smiled. “I knew you would never love me for who I truly am… You would think the worst of me, I needed to just take you and love you sunshine.” He quietly explained. “You’re my every breath…” His smile was unhinged. “I saved you. I took you here and I’m giving you a better life, just take what I give you and you’ll see that we were meant to be.” Bruce crazed.

“A better life? You kidnapped me!” you screamed. Tears were running down your face, you felt a tear roll across your lips. “You’re crazy.” You felt a tinge of his breath on your neck, his lips kissing you again. “I want to go home…” you whispered. “You’re a little confused, sunshine, I love you” he sighed before kissing every tear that rolled down your cheek. “I just saved you from all the darkness in your life” he continued “It’s ok, you’re with Daddy, I’ll give you everything you want” his voice turned smooth. “Just let me go home.” you sobbed. Bruce sighed, “Flora, you have no home baby.” He looked at you, with obsession. “You belong to me now, you have no name, no family, no past…” he whispered, his voice was soothing, full of love, full of control. “Daddy knows best, your home is here with me” he kissed you again, passionately. “Stop calling me Flora!” You screamed, “It’s not my name!” You sobbed. “I changed your name. You’re not who you once were, you’re name is now Flora. I’ve gotten you all the paperwork you will ever need.” He frantically grinned. “Do you remember what your name was?” He softly asked. You nodded in response.

A tear fell down your cheek. You hated this man, you hated him for taking everything from you. He pulled you onto his lap, “It doesn’t matter anymore what you’re name once was. You’re Mrs. Flora Elizabeth Wayne. Your hair color is different, and your eyebrows match.” He stated slowly. “I do miss that beautiful, silky hair of yours, but this is for the best so you don’t get recognized. I will be dressing you every time we go out. I won’t be here at night but Alfred, my butler will be taking care of you. You will refer to me as Mr. Wayne to him, do not call me the special name I gave you, to his face.” He clearly stated. “This isn’t my bedroom, but you will be sleeping in my bedroom every night. I will be bathing you and with you. Any other questions?” He softly purposed.

You didn’t answer, nothing mattered anymore. “Good girl” he nodded, caressing your cheeks. He gave a light kiss to your forehead, your eyes, and finally your lips. “Now you must rest, it’s been a very exhausting night for you, for both of us” he stated, his voice dripping with love and obsession. He held you tightly, close against his chest. “I won’t be in bed with you tonight, my little fairy.” He sighed, “I have important things to do.” He stood up with you in his arms and carried you to his room, he was staring at you the entire time. “My beautiful little fairy,” he cooed. He laid you on the bed and sat in front of your feet, he started to unbuckle your Mary Janes and slid them off. After both shoes were off he started to pull down your stockings. He took his time, removing the stockings slowly. You felt his hands touching your thighs, caressing them softly. He looked at you with that same obsessive, loving, and crazed face he did since you woke up. You felt so vulnerable. After the stockings were off he grabbed your hands and lifted you. He got up close and grabbed your chin, “My little doll.” He cooed before kissing you. He reached behind you and started to unzip your dress. You couldn’t say a word. You just felt vulnerable.

You felt scared. You couldn’t even say stop. You tried, but you couldn’t say the words. Tears filled your eyes as the kiss got more passionate, and as your dress got off. You started to tear up at the kiss, he pulled you against him, holding you close. His hands gently caressed your body as he pulled down your dress slowly and tossed it on the bed. He stared at you for seconds on in, his eyes were hungry, craving. Obsession and love were the only emotions visible to them. “Flora, my sweet petal…” He purred. He started petting your hair, staring into your eyes. “The time will come.” He quietly blurted and then got off of you. He went into his closet for a few moments and came back with a satin dress. He laid it next to you and started to unclasp your bra, and your eyes widened. You tried shoving him off and he immediately pulled your chin up. “I told you, Flora. I will be undressing and dressing you, I’ve already seen your body. I will continue seeing your body.” He snapped. He unclasped your bra and laid it next to you. He slipped the satin dress over you and grabbed your arms to pull them through the holes. You nodded, afraid to not do as he said. He pulled the dress on you, his fingers caressing your skin. He caressed your thighs, your back, your neck, your hair, your cheeks, and your lips as he put the dress on. You felt the fabric against your skin, it was the softest and thinnest fabric you’d ever felt before. He smiled, you could feel and see his obsession and love for you every time he looked at you. He sighed and turned around to go into the closet to grab a robe. “You can wear this if you feel like you’re too exposed.” and then walked towards the door, “Don’t be afraid to come out and ask. I won’t be here but someone can attend to your needs.”

You felt a mix of fear and sadness at the thought of him leaving you alone in an unknown room. You mumbled, “Please don’t go.” He turned around with a look of shock and happiness, “You don’t want me to go?” He questioned, a smile creeping up on his face. He came over to your bedside, “Do you want Daddy to stay?” He asked. He smiled and tucked you in the bed, he caressed your face. “Stay” you pleaded, feeling disgusted with yourself for wanting him to hold you. “Oh Flora, how could I say no?” He purred. He climbed into bed next to you, covering himself with the comforter. “Daddy wants to hold his pretty fairy, come here.” He whispered, holding out his arms. With every moment you couldn’t deny the burning need to get close to him. His voice was soothing, like a lullaby, it melted any fear inside you. His soft touch and love for you made you want to get closer. You got beside him, his arms holding you against him. “I love you, I love you so much, my pretty little fairy,” he whispered in your ear.

Your head was against his chest. He felt so warm, you felt secure in his embrace. The sound of his heart was in your ear, it made your heart melt. His heartbeat was soothing to you, his arms holding you against him made you want to never stay away from them, from him. You fell asleep in his arms, being held by the man who changed your life. He kidnapped you, and now he was going to control you.

He was your biggest fear, and you were his biggest desire.

#batfam #batman #battinson #batman x reader #batman x y/n #batman x you #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #dc comics #dc comics x reader

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mrshipsmcgee · 1 year

Note

I crave some of the classic “random villain kidnaps Peters girl and tortures her in order to get info on him” add in some “Peter shows up at the last minute and goes feral” to make me happy

Yes ma’am. Anything for you my darling 😏

WARNINGS: blood, booboos, owies, hurt

Peter steps into the open window of his shared apartment with his best friends, Miles and Mary Jane. Peter thumbs the switch of the floor lamp beside him before discarding his mask, pausing as his brows lace together - scanning his surroundings realizing his normally warm and inviting home was dark and empty.

No Miles.

No MJ.

They should be up still.. the house should smell like fresh popcorn and the fireplace should be filled with orange flames as Miles and Mary Jane played through their newest video game together.

They always stayed up together for whoever was on patrol.. but tonight something was wrong.

Hair stands up straight on the back of Peter’s neck as he steps deeper into the home, the old wood floors creaking under the weight of each step he took.

He hears a small whimper - MJ’s whimper.

His stomach drops as he crosses the into Miles’ room.

“Shit,” Peter whispers, hot tears forming in his eyes as they fall upon Miles. Peter is frozen, chest rising as he approaches where Miles sat on the ground propped against his bed, crimson blood flowing from his abdomen as he stares up at Peter.

Peter drops to his knees, immediately inspecting the stab wounds on Miles’ stomach. Peter cries, cupping Miles’ face - his normally warm eyes now panicked as he stares at his wounded friend.

“I- I’m okay, Pete,” Miles tries to point to the door. “He has her. Go.”

Peter’s palm drops from Miles as he stands, gritting his teeth, “Where are they?”

Miles shakes his head, “I don’t know Pete. She… she stopped crying a few minutes ago,” he begins to cry. “He came through the window. We- we thought it was you, Pete. I swear. I promise I tried. My powers failed me.. I’m so sorry, Peter. I should have known-.”

“-No, Miles,” Peter interjects, dropping to his knees again and taking his friend’s face in his hands before planting a loving kiss to his forehead. His eyes meet Miles’, “There’s no need to apologize. You’re still learning.. it’s okay.”

Tears run down Miles’ cheeks as he nods at Peter, “I love you, man.”

“I love you, too,” Peter whispers.

“Please, go find her.. He’s going to kill her,” Miles sobs. “She can’t die. I can’t handle another death.”

Peter stands, already stalking towards the door as he cracks his knuckles, “You won’t have to.”

Rage courses through Peter as he nears the cracked door of his bedroom, kicking it open and stepping through the threshold.

“I was wondering if you’d get home before or after I’ve killed them,” a familiar voice comes from the corner of the room. “I’ve been waiting for this day for so long now. I had hoped you’d be here to watch them die. I’m so happy things are working out as planned. You know, Peter - it’s been an awful long time since you’ve watched a loved one die. Hasn’t it?”

“Show yourself, Harry,” Peter growls. “I’m the one you want anyway, right?”

“Peter Parker… such a bright mind, but still can’t figure out the purpose of this all,” Harry let’s out a gravely laugh. “I’m simply doing what I have done before. I’m killing your hope. I don’t want you dead, I want you miserable. I want you to wish for death.”

“Where is she?” Peter asks, fists clenched as his chest rises and falls, “Where is Mary Jane?”

“Oh, the pretty one?” Harry’s voice is playful. “Pete, do you remember what I like to do with pretty women?”

Peter gulps, eyes flickering between rage and sorrow.

“I like to do whatever the fuck I want with pretty women, Peter,” Harry finally steps out of the shadows. “And god damn did I do whatever the fuck I wanted with her.”

Peter charges Harry, hands wrapping around his scaly neck as he begins to choke him, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Do you know who she cried for the entire time?” Harry laughs as he chokes. “You. And - and you - you weren’t there. You - you never are.”

Peter throws Harry against the wall before slamming him onto the ground, holding him by the collar as he screams, “Where is she?!” Peter’s fist meets Harry cheek, then his jaw, then his left eye, then his throat. Harry gasps for air as Peter pulls away, his face beet-red as he screams “Tell me!”

“Go to the bedroom,” Harry smiles. “I’ll just say that she couldn’t move whenever I was done with her.”

Peter immediately runs to Mary Jane’s bedroom.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he sees MJ laying naked on her toddler bed, “Mary Jane.” He rushes to her side, a scream escaping from his throat as he sees the markings all over her beautiful body. Her body already bruising from Harry’s abuse.

His fingers ghost over her bloodied gut, carved perfectly was

H A R R Y

Peter lets out an anguished cry as his hands hover over Mary Jane, to afraid to take her into his arms.

She wakes, eyes lazily opening as she looks to Peter, “Peter.”

“You’re here,” a small smile spreads across her face, her busted lip ripping more due to her drying lips. She hisses.

Peter cries, “MJ.. MJ, I- I- I’m so sorry. Mary Jane… I wasn’t here to protect you. Or- or Miles…”

“But you’re here now,” she blinks before passing back about due to pain.

He sobs, taking MJ by the hand and planting a tender kiss to the top of her limp hand. “I’m going to take care of this, and then I’m going to take care of you and Miles.”

Peter’s face drops, wiping the tears from his warm cheeks as he steps into his bedroom and grabs Harry by the collar.

Peter’s face is expressionless as he starts to pummel his ex-friend - beating him to the point of being unrecognizable. His fists finally stop as he hears Harry’s skull crunch under his final blow.

The hero stands, staring at his work - the bloodied piece of shit lying dead on his bedroom floor. “No one fucks with my family.”

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fuckmymunson · 2 years

Text

18+, dark content, minors DNI! | Obsessed!Remus for the soul♡

a/n: hi, my name is Omel and you're watching disney channel *draws a cock with a wand*

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Fool of you to assume it was over.

It started simply: With that disquieting feeling of being watched. Something— no, someone was skulking around every corner, every window, behind every door. Eyes glued to your back, scrutinizing every movement, every step, every word.

Things escalated; weeks later, little notes could be found in between your notebooks, inside your bag, and even one time on your desk, at potions class. Every letter was the same, same bold, black ink, no sender, and the same scent that was engraved on your brain by memory.

Chocolate and cinnamon.

“What’s wrong?” Your new boyfriend asked you, holding your hand. The note on your hand was different from the others, placed in between your Transfiguration textbook; It felt almost threatening,

«I would rather experience this love even if it wasn't meant to be, than to not experience your sweet loving at all.»

“Nothing, just an old draft of an essay.” You replied, tucking the piece of paper with the rest of the letters, inside your bag, giving him a reassuring smile.

During one of your night patrols, you felt it again.

Eyes all over you, roaming your body. Someone. Someone you knew, someone you loved. Wand in hand, the weak beam of light flickered as if it sensed your sudden fear. Quickening your pace, you breathed through your nose, determined to not let panic get a hold of you. Heart pounding wildly inside your chest, crushing your eardrums, you heard the steps behind you matching your tempo.

“Lumos Maxi—” Your words were abruptly cut off by a scarred hand clasped to your mouth. The same scent of the letter flooded your nostrils. Chocolate, cinnamon and the proximity of the figure allowed you to breath in the subtle fragance of sandalwood.

Which happened to be Remus’s favourite incense.

The frightened whine was muffled by his large hand and his tall frame caged your body against the cold, stone wall, this side of the castle was barely patrolled, you knew that, and he did too. Tears, hot and heavy rolled down your cheeks, staining his sleeve.

“Shhh–” He spoke softly, his nose brushing with yours. “Sorry to scare you, love. I know how easily startled you can be.”

His hand move away from your mouth. “What do you want from me?” You sobbed, scared. “Remus, p–please.” Cupping your face, you flinched at the touch, not letting him brush the tears off, not letting him take care of you.

“Don’t cry, love.” He leaned down, lips ghosting over yours. “Did you receive my letter?”

“Just leave me alone, please.” The desperate cry only seemed to diminish his patience. “It’s been almost a year, just let me go—.”

“Poor baby.” Remus cooed at you, with fake empathy. “Did you really think I’ll let you go that easily?”

He knew, Remus knew exactly what cards to play, to have you putty in his hands. You were weak, you were always a giver, a naive little girl. You tried to push him away, only fueling his anger, his obsession.

Fighting back was useless, and you learned it the bad way. When his scarred hand returned to your mouth, this time from behind, while the other was too busy gripping your hips hard enough to draw bruises on your delicate skin, the tears found their way to the floor, in a place between your feet. Hopeless, stupid, trapped.

"I'm sure your new boyfriend can't fuck you as I can," Remus growled in your ear, his cock buried inside you, hitting all the right spots, just like only he knew. "I'm sure he can't even make you cum."

His madness was suffocating, just like his love used to be. He kept pounding, harder, deeper. Your toes curling in the insides of your mary janes, your hips miserably buckling back, unconsciously begging for more, the slick running down your thighs betraying your thoughts. You hated every second of it, but your body seemed to love it.

Your velvety, warm walls clenched around his hard cock, earning you a breathless chuckle. "Pathetic. Look at you, at least I know this pretty cunt still loves me." Remus continued fucking you, using you, knowing that deep down, this is how you adored it.

It became too much, too painful, your abused cunt gushing around him, overworked. "Fucking milk me dry, you cheating slut." Remus whispered in your ear, before descending into a spiral of madness at the delicious sensation of his hot, sticky cum filling your insides, just like he used to do.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Brought you by: Remus's favorite tea

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