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#just holds his arm like 'little bruised it's okay'
Reminder; Don't Forget
(Scrap)
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❥Park Seonghwa x fem reader
➯a/n: i want park seonghwa to be mean to me while wearing a tank top, that is all ➯a/n: i'm going to start posting drafts that haven't been touched in over a month so they don't just collect dust, enjoy ya filthy animals
✃ "You need a reminder of who's good girl you are."
✫彡wordcount: 2.7k
(>ᴗ•)♡´・ᴗ・`♡genre: YANDERE SMUT (hinted mafia/crime au)
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: THIS IS A DARK FICTION. EMPHASIS ON DARK FICTION. i do no condone pretty much anything seonghwa does in this fanfic. this is very dark, the darkest i've gone so if you are uncomfortable with that check out something else. we have here: dark/yandere/savior complex hwa, degrading, unsafe physical restraint, choking, destruction of personal property, shaming, dubcon, extremely possessive behavior, some ddlg themes, slapping, praise, yelling, captivity, crying, knifes thrown at reader as a punishment(none hit!!), threats of violence, manipulation, mind break, hair pulling, mention of edging, face humping, throat fucking, messy bj, not proof read
MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI
"Did you forget your place, hm? It certainly seems like it, acting like a slut when you're mine!" His grip on your neck tightens, a chuckle leaving his furled lips as you grab at his tank top desperately trying to force out apologies through the pressure he puts on your wind pipes. "What, you can't even say that you're sorry? Another's man's number in your phone and you can't tell me you're sorry?"
Oh he's evil, he loves to see you squirm. And squirm you do: pushing against his heavy weight on your hips and clawing at his arm as your lungs beg for air.
He lets go, arms crossing his chest as he leans back nonchalantly, every bit of his weight in your lap as you heave. "Hwa-seong...Hwa, I'm s-sorry! I thought, thought, it'd be okay hes just a f-friend-"
   "You thought," he laughs cruelly, "are you even capable of that? Dumb little girl," he slaps your jaw, lightly, but it still makes you face the wall with a look of defeat.
"I think for you, is that clear?" You nod, tear stained cheeks gleaming in the light.
"Hey, am I clear?" he shouts this time, making you jump.
    "Yes! Yes, Hwa, clear..."
   "There's my good girl—" He brushes back your hair, cooing as you lean away, "you're the prettiest girl I ever laid my eyes on, and you think men don't see that? You think they're blind? Or are you really just that naiive, pretty baby?" His cool finger tips trail down to the blooming bruise on your neck, pressing softly to make you whine. "Give me your phone."
   He's up and off your body in a second flat, letting you catch your breath as you slowly manage to pull yourself to your knees. He doesn't press you to hurry or yell, he doesn't do anything but sit back in the bean bag chair he gifted you for previously good behavior and watch you like a hawk. His legs spread and hands on his knees, resisting the urge to snatch you up. When you turn and see him on the other side of the room, you simply outstretch your arm with the old prepaid phone he provided you with a few weeks ago. "Bring it here," he commands lowly, eyes tracking your every move as you slowly move towards him on your knees- having no energy to stand.
He spreads his legs further, a silent instruction. You slot yourself between them and hold the phone to him tentative, shoulders relaxing as he takes it. "Thank you, beautiful. See, isn't it easy when you listen to me?" He unlocked the phone quickly, eyes flicking to you darkly when you go to take it back. "Got something to hide?" You shake your head, looking down as he takes your hands and places them on each of his thighs. "Don't move."
So you don't, simply breathing deeply to replenish your abused lungs while he combs through your phone with a fine toothed comb. You know you haven't done anything truly wrong, but it seems like he has different definitions to you.
"Good girl..." He whispers to himself as he sees the message of you shooting down the idea your friend tried to corrupt you with, to go out without him. "Stupid, but good..." He continues as he reads through every message with the phone number of the man. He monitors everything you do, it was only a matter of time before he got around to checking all of the numbers in your phone and their owners.
"Aw, you really are just naiive, huh? My poor little angel. Cant even tell when someone's trying to take you away from me-" He tuts his tongue, setting the phone down on the floor. When you go to pick it up, he kicks your hand away. "Sorry, Baby, you can't be trusted with big girl stuff yet. Gotta learn first." He smashes the device beneath his booted heel, a squeal passing through your lips at the loud metallic crunch.
"Hwa!" A pouty whine comes before you can stop it, tears welling up in your eyes all over again. When he cocks his eyebrow up, you cower between his legs, stuttering quietly. "Sorry, m'sorry..." He swipes the destroyed phone to the side with his boot before tapping your hip with it. You shuffle quickly, untying his shoes with a shaky breath.
"I know you get bored baby, but I can't have others corrupting your mind. I'll get you some new books, maybe even a TV for in here if you're extra good." You whisper a soft thank you, and a promise you will be as you set his shoes off to the side neatly.
"Look up at me, Doll. C'mon don't be angry," you look up at him as softly as you can, a groan of affection bubbling past his throat, "there's my pretty little thing." You rub your fingers on his jean-clad legs in an attempt to ground yourself as he looks down at you like a predator that's spotted it's next meal.
"Aren't you so happy you have me to take care of you? Who knows what others would do to that pretty face of yours— not to mention that pretty cunt."
A heat immediately finds it way to your face, and he laughs deeply. "Oh, please, don't be coy. You know as well as I do that if I didn't take you out of there that that little hole would be ruined in an hour. I saved you."
You hide your face in his lap, mind racing. It's true that he's more gently than other people you've had the dis-pleasure of encountering in his line of work. But that doesn't make him any less over bearing and obsessive. His possessiveness bordering on ownership. Sometimes you're truly thankful he scooped you up before anyone else could touch you- other times you curse him for it.
He rubs the back of your head gently, leaning up in the slouching chair, like he can sense your thoughts. "You aren't going anywhere, Baby. You're mine- until the day you die and even after that. Even God himself couldn't pry you away from me. You are mine. Do you understand that?" You nod into his lap, a quiet 'yes,hwa' muffled by his jeans. "Such a sweet thing," he whispers before gripping your hair and pulling you up, earning a gasp.
That glint in his eyes- "Hwa, wait, wait—" he did no such thing, standing up with his clothed crotch in your face, pulling your hands up to his belt.
"You need a reminder of who's good girl you are-"
"No-"
"No?!" He laughed in disbelief, nails digging into your scalp as he makes you look up at him, the stretch of your neck uncomfortable as he cranes it up. There's a sharp hunger in his eyes, "you're so cute -so, so, so, cute when you're defiant... but I'm not in the fucking mood. Get your ass up," he tugs you up by your hair, ignoring the sharp yelps that tremble past your lips.
     "Ple-ase don't take me downstairs! I'll be good, I'll be good!"
    "It's okay baby, we aren't going downstairs," he positions you back to the wall and backs up, pushing you back when you try to follow and apologize. "I'm too tired." The glimmer of hope is stomped out as he unlocked his side of the nightstand. "You can take your punishment here."
   "Hwa... I'm real sor-" A skinny throwing knife that thuds into the wall next to your head shuts you up quick, a squeal replacing your pleas.
   "Been looking after you so much, I'm rusty-" He throws another with a groan, hiding his smirk as you jump, "stay still baby, I'm out of practice." You can't help but duck as it thunks into the wall just above your head.
     "Stand up straight!" His booming voice shakes you to your core, and you stand as straight as you can manage with the knot forming in your gut. You grip the wall with your finger tips, looking down at your feet so you don't see the sharp objects coming. You've found that it's less fearful that way.
Knife after knife is thrown, each dull thump making you twitch as they're buried into the drywall in the outline of your body.
When they finally stall, his sock clad feet come into view, his curved knuckle lifting your chin. The flame in his eyes has faded to a simmer, an almost fond one. "Are you done being a brat? Or should I let my hand slip next time I need target practice?"
   "I'm done..." you speak with a gulp, body still frozen against the wall lest you move and graze against the blades.
He seems to sense your thoughts once again, cooing softly as he notices your tense shoulders. "C'mon, sweet girl," he carefully pulls you straight out from the wall and twirls you around.
He wraps his arms around under yours and grips your shoulders, holding you close to his chest and resting his chin on your head. "Your life in my hands... Such a delicate thing you are." You eyes trail over the outline of your body, traced with throwing daggers. "If you just behaved, I wouldn't have to scare you. It's the best way for you to learn, my love. That fear you feel when we go downstairs, when I have you pinned up- that's the fear you would feel every waking moment without me. Just be a good girl, and let me protect you..."
"...Okay, I'm sorry, Hwa... I don't know why I act out," You don't know if you're telling the truth anymore. It is even acting out? You sometimes think you have a right to.
Maybe— "Maybe you like it when I'm mean to you."
You don't know what you would have thought, but that wasn't it. You think he likes being mean to you. He always finds a reason to punish you: whether it be with bone chilling fear or being pushed to your sexual edge and then repeatedly denied.
    Some days, he's softer with the sexual aspect of his obsession with you.
He turns you back around and shoves you to his knees, right back into his clothed bulge where you started. "I want to claim you, I'm going to claim you. Every part. Take it off now before I decide to skull fuck you." Your breath hitches in your throat, lip trembling at his threat, knowing full well he will follow through.
Today is not one of those days, you realize.
You hands quickly find their way to his belt, unbuckling the golden buckle and letting it dangle, the button undone next and the zipper followed. He didn't bother to kick his jeans off, or even pull them down. Only his cock out, twitching to life infront of you inpatiently. "You belong to me, I'm gonna get that through your thick skull" -he flicks your head- "even if I have to use my cock."
He rubs against your cheek, sighing out in pleasure at the feeling of your hot embarrassed face. "Say my name," he whispers deeply, eyes swirling with an unreadable mix of emotions.
"Seonghwa," you pant out shyly, eyes closed as you feel him rutting against your face, his pre cum smearing on your cheek bone. His grip is continually becoming softer, loving as he lewdly humps your head. Your hands find purchase on his sock clad feet, helping you lift up your body into him. "Seonghwa," it comes out as a moan, and a thick groan comes from him in response.
He steps back just an inch, looking down at your tear stained face, his fresh pre-cum glimmering on the side of your face.
His full lips curve into a smile, his previously angry facade fading as quick as it came when he busted in the door earlier, while he lifts you to the bed and lets your head hang.
He's even beautiful when viewed upside down-
    "You make it hard to ever leave your side, pretty girl. I could spend the rest of my life buried in any of your gorgeous holes, I love you so much."
"I love you, Hwa. I-" Your breath catches in your throat as the words tear through your throat. "I do want you to claim me, I want to know I'm yours." One of your hands seems to sprout a mind of its own, wrapping around the base of his thick and smooth girth. "Let me take care of you, and you take care of me."
A groan dies on his lips, shuddering as you slowly stroke him, the words you speak shooting through his heart and down to his balls. "Let me be your good girl. Please, I know I can!"
The fear he instilled in you just moments ago festered into a need to please, to solidify your place by his side so he would never leave. He never would dream of it- leaving you. You are his heart and soul personified. You hold his entire being in your hands, and you have no idea.
"Yeah? Gonna be my good girl again? Make it up to me?" His heart flutters as you nod enthusiastically, your mouth opening wide for him and tongue lolling out."Fuck, that's a good girl," he spreads his legs around your dangling head, slim fingers gathering yours to your chest and holding them ever so softly as he slips right down your throat.
The hot, velvety skin encasing him makes him moan loudly, squeezing your hands to ground himself and keep himself from fucking your skull like his life depends on it. But, oh, how he wants to—
"Good fucking girl, that's it, just like I taught you," you gulp around his overwhelming length, eyes closing as you focus on breathing through your nose, the smell of his body wash somehow soothing to your fried nervous system.
   He holds himself back as long as he can, thrusting in your throat slowly and basking in the warmth of it. But as your saliva builds, nowhere to go, and the wet and lewd squelch of your throat grows louder, he can no longer do that. He intertwines his fingers with yours and lets you squeeze tightly, a soft growl letting you know his arousal is at a peak before he loses all control-
   His hips draw back and slam into you, the head of his cock poking at the very depth of your throat and making you gag, and the noise just stirs him on, going again and again and again to hear that sweet sound of you choking around him. Sticky saliva tainted with the white of his pre-cum drips from the corners of your stretched mouth, dripping up your face. It seems like the onslaught will never end, but he has bigger plans for his building release.
     The moment your throat is free of his cock, you draw in a large gasp, all of the wetness in your mouth dripping like a waterfall, letting you heave as he watches with dark eyes. Not that you can see the lust driven look on his face, if you were to open your eyes you'd be blinded by spit and cum.
  He discards his pants and top as he lets you catch your breath, cooing all the while about how good you just did for him. He uses the softness of his tank top to wipe away most of the filth on your face, and you finally peek your eyes open as you feel him lift you.
   You swear there's hearts swirling in the darkness of his eyes as he scans your messy face, a permanent smirk plastered on his features. "Pretty girl, you're such a mess for me," you can only pant in response, leaning into the palm he places on your cheek as he lays you down right-side-up, letting your head collide with the soft pillows.
The moment he put a pillow under your back, you knew you were in for a long ride.
And by the end of it, you wouldn't forget who you belong to.
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miratastic · 3 days
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Feyd spanking-
yes. oh my god yes. went a little bit overboard with this one, hope u enjoy !
feyd has rules. rules that he expects you to follow. he needs you to listen, to be obedient and good. he likes it when you’re soft, and floaty and treat him like he’s the only thing you need (which let’s be honest, he is). he likes having control over you. likes to tell you what you can wear, who you can talk to, what you can and can’t do around geidi prime. if you obey him, he treats you. spoils you with gifts exported from other planets, takes you to his favourite childhood hideouts, lets you cum as many times as you want. if you’re really good he uses his mouth on you and makes you cum so hard you black out.
feyd doesn’t give second chances. the second you start acting up, say your outfit is more low cut than usual, or you’re being bratty and saying no to him, he will waste no time. discipline is very important to feyd. he would drag you by the wrist, ignoring your shocked outburst at his sudden aggression, to his private chambers. you think you’re so smart by telling him that he’s overreacting, and that you’re not doing anything wrong. feyd would snarl in response, veins in his forehead ticking. he would be fuming, you’d be able to hear his teeth gritting together as he throws you over his lap. this entire time he hasn’t said an entire word and you’re starting to get worried. you realise that maybe trying to rile him up was a bad idea. “feyd,” you’d say uncertainly, wriggling in his strong hold. “let me go.”
the sharp sound of fabric tearing is his response. he’s ripped a gaping hole in your clothes, giving him full access to your ass and upper thighs.
“here i thought you were good. here i thought i had taught you manners.” his voice is gravelly, fury barely contained as he strokes your skin.
“feyd-feyd m’sorry okay? i won’t do it again, i promise!” he’d reduced you down to a whimpering, pathetic, mess and he hadn’t even started yet. “please let me go.”
feyd laughs at you. it’s menacing and scary and you tremble where you lay. “it’s too late for you. if you were my pretty pet we wouldn’t be here right now. if you were the good pet i know, you’d be cumming on my cock tonight. but you aren’t good are you? no, good pets fucking listen to their owners. you deserve this.”
the first spank against your ass hurts. he wasn’t starting off soft or giving you a chance to get used to it. feyd puts all his power into it, years of warrior training being obvious with how the pain radiates through you. you cry out, tears immediately running down your face. “f-feyd!”
“count.”
you whimper out a quiet ‘one,’ and he hums, “maybe there’s hope for you yet.”
he spanks you again, this time it hits the thin skin just under your left cheek, and you jerk up his lap from the impact. feyd doesn’t offer comfort through his punishment; doesn’t soothe the reddened skin with his large hands. he doesn’t even wait long enough for you to catch up before he’s doing it again.
feyd makes you count all of them. he keeps going until he’s satisfied he’s erased the badness from you. if you lose count or take to long to answer, he starts again from the top. he keeps going until you’re just a sniffling, drooly wreck with a bruised and battered ass.
when he’s done he would pick you up and seat you over his hardened cock, not caring if it hurts you. your head would find itself burrowing into his chest, wet faced and snotty nosed. “m’sorry, m’really really sorry. m’gonna be good for you, m’gonna be a good pet for you, won’t make you mad ‘nymore. won’t be a brat, i’ll listen and be good.”
feyd’s palm would come up and rub your head, and you’d start crying again from how good it felt to finally have comforting touch from him. he’d bring his other arm across your waist, hugging you tight into him, continuing to stroke your hair.
“c’mere sweet thing. you took your punishment well, pretty. did good for me didn’t you? yes, that’s right, did so good for me baby. you’ve learnt your lesson haven’t you? perfect pet, i’ll take care of you now.”
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peachdues · 1 day
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y’all want a little sneak peek of some soft Compass content?
Note that this scene will not be included in Part I, but will be featured in a later installment, should I continue the series.
CW: mention of robbery • injury • gang member!Sanemi • protective Sanemi • slight skip between scenes because this is just a teaser lmao
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Your face pales as he thunders toward you. “Sanemi, wait — it’s not that bad —“
But he doesn’t listen; not as he reaches for you, his hands cupping your jaw, trapping you in place. His eyes are wild as he scrutinizes your face, hands tilting your head every direction, assessing.
His eyes run first over the cut on your lip before settling on the bruise forming along your cheek. At the first glimpse of the faint swelling along your cheekbone, his frantic, angry concern melts into something colder; more frightening.
Murderous.
Your fingers wrap around his wrists as he begins to tremble. “Sanemi,” you say lowly, urgent. “Sanemi, I’m okay — it was just a robbery —“
“Just a robbery?” His voice is hard and unforgiving. “Just a fuckin’ robbery?”
“I’m going back to headquarters,” Iguro says quietly, eager to distance himself from the pair. Without another word, Sanemi’s fellow hashira retreats to the back of the store and slips out of the service entrance.
Sanemi makes a mental note to thank him later. His hands remain on your face, his finger gingerly wiping away the smudge of blood where it’s dried on your lip. “What were they after?”
“Just the cash in the register,” you wince. “They were just some petty thieves —“
“Give me names and I’ll handle it.”
“It’s not like they identified themselves,” you say, exasperated. “And I definitely wasn’t about to ask.”
“Descriptions, then,” Sanemi says through clenched teeth as he leads you through the back exit of the store, arm latched firmly around your waist, guiding you to where he’d unceremoniously propped his motorcycle against the alley wall.
“Get on the bike,” and because Sanemi can see you hesitate, can see the protest building on your tongue, he sharply adds, “Now.” He reaches for a spare helmet and shoves it toward you.
You can’t help it. The moment you spy his arm lifting to push the helmet down over your head, you flinch. Hard.
All at once, Sanemi’s panicked anger winks out like a star. His arm drops limply to his side. He does not reach for you again.
He murmurs your name and finally, you look to him, eyes full of guilt that matches his own.
“I would put a bullet in my head before I ever raised a hand to you.”
You nod, mortified. “I know,” you whisper. “I know that.”
And you do. If there was one certainty in this — this thing between you, it was that Sanemi could not hurt you. No matter how angry, no matter how frantic he was, all that fell away the moment you were within his reach.
His voice is gentle, so very gentle as he asks, “Can I touch you?”
You nod and he folds you between his arms. His lips press gently against your forehead and then he breaks away, his hand cradling your face.
———-
You shouldn’t be surprised at the soft knock at your bathroom door; that he’d heard you pitiful attempts to stifle your sobs behind your hand and under the spray of the shower head.
A rush of cool air breaks up some of the steamy humidity of the bathroom. Sanemi softly calls your name. “Can I come in?”
You squeak out a soft yes, your eyes squeezing shut as your tears escape down your cheeks, mixing in with the shower water streaming over you.
He pulls back the shower curtain and his face falls as you shrink back against the soap-scummed tile.
“C’mere,” his hand lands softly at your waist and he tugs you in. You follow without resistance, eager to melt into the reassuring warmth of his skin.
It dawns on you that the arm locked around your waist is half-holding you up, Sanemi bracing your weight against him.
“I’ve got you, baby, I’ve got you.” He murmurs between kisses against your ear, his other hand cupping the back of your head, cradling your face into his throat. “Just let it out.”
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JJK FF/ ROYAL GUARD
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CHAPTER ELEVEN | SERIES
Ch. 1
Ch. 2
Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
When you keep bumping into your personal royal guard by accident not knowing he is your guardian angel
Pairing: Jeon Jungkook!fallen angel!royal guard! × fem!reader!virgin!princess 
Word count: 3k
Rating: 18+ smut
Genre + warnings: Fluff, smut, dirty talk, crying, tears of happiness, lap straddling, a lot of pussy fingering, biting, nipple play, Jungkook groans a lot, full nakedness, big dick!jk, a little bit of rough French, neck kissing, hard orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, guys :D) - she probably pregnant by the time he is done with her - upss - also mentions of marriage, paranormal romance, historical fanfiction, Kook being cold and mysterious, being his sexy self. Caring and possessive!jk! Really horny towards his princess, being a big seductive tease. A lot of swearing, cursing and a little bit of crying. The story isn’t real, just my imagination running wild so just enjoy reading!
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Still waiting in Jungkook’s chambers, you nervously fidgeted, your fingers picking up stray pieces of your dress whenever your leg bounced up and down, unable to calm yourself.
This couldn’t keep happening!
Everytime you think about what happened in the forest, it makes you tremble with fear. Your palms feel sweaty and your heart is beating loudly.
What if something happened to him?!
What if they caught him?! If anything were to happen to him...
You shook your head violently.
Stop thinking like this!
Taking a deep breath, you sat straight in the chair, crossing your legs and resting your hands on your lap, trying your best to control your breathing.
Just then, the door opened revealing a servant, the lovely octopus Moe, bringing in another tray of food.
“My lady, you need to eat something. You can’t go on like this,” he said softly, afraid that he overstepped his boundaries,” The king will be back soon, don’t worry.”
You smiled at him, “ Thanks but I’m not hungry,” trying to convince him otherwise, your stomach decided to complain with a grumbling sound loud enough for him to hear and you blush with embarrassment, not believing yourself for making those kind of sounds.
He tries to hide his surprise with a polite bow and leaves the room when he finishes setting up your late dinner since it was really late, the darkness outside having already started to cover the entire castle.
A couple minutes pass by when suddenly, the door opens with a bang which caused you to jump in your seat. A familiar man enters the room.
His whole armor was covered in blood, his wings torn in some places with dried blood on them. The sight makes you gasp when he steps into the room, the door closing behind him with a bang in the same way how it was opened.
Throwing the sword on the carpet, he doesn’t even notice you sitting there by the window when he removes his face mask, revealing his beautiful face full of bruises and wounds, the right eye already forming a blue bruise on his left cheek.
A sob escapes your mouth, tears streaming down your face as you stand from your seat and hurry to him.
Grabbing his wrist, you run your fingers lightly along the purple mark that now appeared on his skin.
“Why are you here so late? Did you get attacked? Who did that?!” You asked frantically, not knowing how he even got injured like this.
Do magic beings even heal faster like from the myths?
Jungkook looks at you in surprise for a second before his expression melts into concern when he notices your teary eyes.
“Darling, please don’t cry. Everything is fine.” He says reassuringly.
Relieved, you put both of your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace, not caring whether or not you dirty your dress with his blood.
“I need to shower . You know I can’t stay with you smelling like blood,” he whispers, his warm breath hitting the side of your cheek as his chin rests on top of your head.
You nod, tightening your hold on him.
“Okay. But make sure to be careful. You can slip in there if it’s too slippery,” you warn him seriously and your words makes him smile at you, looking at you like you’re some wonder of the world.
“I will be extra careful and If I slip, I will call you,” he smirks with a teasing note in his promise to which you laugh and hit him gently.
“Stop making fun of me. I was worried about you when you went to fight vampires again. I thought that I will never see you again,” You said truthfully.
The corner of his eyes crinkled slightly in response, showing that he understood your meaning.
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” He says, caressing your cheeks with the tips of his fingers.
Then without saying another word, he walks to the wardrobe and takes out his clothes before leaving again.
Since he went to shower, you decided to clean yourself too since your dress had bloodstains. Taking the change of clothes, you went to the other bathroom , washing yourself as fast as possible.
Once you were done, you quickly dressed in your nightgown and walked to the bed where you lay down, staring into space, your thoughts still filled with worry.
The image of him fighting in the battlefield flashed through your mind again making you shiver uncontrollably. Why did you insist on going outside the castle if there’s danger?
With a tired sigh, you feel hot inside. Fanning yourself, you go to the big window with the balcony doors and open them wide, letting the fresh air enter the room, allowing your mind to be free of any doubts.
Trying to relax, you closed your eyes, trying to clear your mind. The last thing you wanted was to dwell on what happened earlier in the day.
After a while, you hear the bathroom door open and close softly. Not opening your eyes, your heart rate started to rise when you heard his footsteps approaching you.
He moved like a silent panther with soundless steps as it wasn’t him moving at all.
Feeling him behind you, Jungkook wraps his arms around you to nuzzle your neck.
“I missed you, princess,” he purrs, nuzzling your neck affectionately, pressing kisses against the spot between your shoulder and neck.
You hum softly in return, letting your eyes flutter shut and leaning into his embrace, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body and the smell of his cologne and fresh scent enveloping you.
“I heard that you were a bad girl for me while I was away,” he murmurs, nosing the shell of your ear, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. His breath sends chills down your spine but he didn’t seem to mind at all as his lips brushed against your earlobe gently.
"It's my duty as your future husband and your king to punish my princess whenever she does something wrong," he adds huskily.
You feel confused,” What are you talking about?”
You feel him smiling against your neck,” You didn’t eat anything , so your body needs time to recuperate. I ordered Moe to bring you some food and a glass of wine and you haven't touched it,” he explains softly, rubbing circles on your back with one hand, the other hand resting gently on your hip.
You flush in embarrassment as you realize that he caught you. "I'm sorry."
"Don’t apologise. It’s perfectly normal to miss someone while you’re away,” he replies, his thumb brushing across the curve of your waist.
Your eyes widen as you turn around in his arms, your face only inches from his.
His eyes are blazing when he looks at you and the longer he holds eye contact, the faster you let your own drop down at your feet, too shy to see his intense stare directed at you.
“Now,now. Don’t be shy now, darling. I don’t bite,” he coos softly.
There is irony in those words because you both know that you have been bitten by him before so this sentence was necessary.
When you look up again, you lock your gaze on his black eyes, seeing his pupils dilate and his eyebrows drawn together with a sexy smirk on his lips.
Suddenly, his hands are grabbing yours, pulling you closer, his hot breathe tickling your face, forcing you to tilt your head upwards so he could kiss you more deeply.
Your hands automatically move up to his hair, holding onto him securely as he deepens the kiss; his tongue slipping past your parted lips and exploring the inside of your mouth.
Suddenly, he breaks off the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, still not breaking your stare.
“Are you still sore?” he mumbles quietly and you shake your head, trying not to giggle at his question, you were more than eager to feel him in you again.
Your hands roam through the soft locks of hair on the back of his head, slowly pulling him down until he connects his lips with yours again, kissing you passionately, his tongue invading your senses. His hands roam the rest of your body, leaving heated trails everywhere they touch.
His lips trail down to your jawline, grazing his tongue over it teasingly before biting the delicate flesh there. Making you moan in pleasure, you grab handfuls of his hair, tugging playfully.
His mouth moves from your jaw to your collarbone, sucking hard as he bites your skin once again, licking the area tenderly before moving his mouth further, finding the perfect place to leave a wet hickey under your collarbone.
Panting, he lifts himself from your body, giving you no choice but to open your eyes to look at his beautiful face as your eyes traveled down to his bare chest.
“I don’t deserve you,” he whispers with a sad little smile as he looks straight into your eyes.
Your heart clenches painfully as you take in his state.
“What do you mean?” You ask confused.
He shakes his head,” I have blood on my hands and you still let me touch you. If I wouldn’t be the king or your guardian angel, we would never be this close. You would never have been mine in the first place,” He says brokenly.
Your eyes welled up with tears at his confession as you couldn’t believe what you just heard. You knew how he feels towards you and it kills you to see him like this because you love him.
Tears roll down from your cheeks as you wrap your arms around his neck, your eyes locked with his.
“But you are my king, my guardian angel, my guard, my everything. And as long as I have you, nothing else matters. That includes blood and death and being forced to watch you kill anybody who threatens us or our family. We need to protect them and knowing that you try to protect me despite facing danger, that’s enough reason to marry you,” you confess with a small sob, burying your face into his neck.
He lets out a chuckle in disbelief, pulling you even closer to him.
“I’m glad you see it that way because I can’t wait to make you mine and you to finally be mine forever,” he replies happily as he pulls your face back to look at him.
Lifting a finger to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks with such tender care, you smile at him.
“It’s me who doesn’t deserve you. You’re perfect man to be my husband,” you say lovingly.
Jungkook’s expression from warm to serious,” You make me do things to you if you keep saying these kind of sweet words , Y/N. How am I supposed to resist you now?”
You laugh at that and lean forward to press your lips to his as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.
Before you can stop him, his hands lift you by the waist and he carries you onto the mattress, settling you in his lap, one of his hands traveling down to your leg while the other is holding you firmly around your waist.
Your eyes open wide in surprise at the sudden move and you feel him grinning at you wickedly before placing his lips against your neck again.
Your legs automatically wrapped themselves around his torso, pulling him closer to you.
Your eyes fall shut tightly, overwhelmed by his loving touches and his soft kisses on your skin. You couldn’t help but melt under his ministrations.
“My queen, look at me,” he says quietly as he kisses your neck again.
Slowly opening your eyes, you find him gazing right at you with love filled eyes,” Look at me when I speak to you. You belong only to me and nobody else. Only me,” he declares.
Tears form in your eyes as you blink at him, feeling overwhelmed by his passionate declaration. You nod silently with tears filling your eyes.
His lips brush against your cheek softly as he brushes his thumbs on your tears, “I’ll shower you with affection everyday if it means that you don’t cry anymore.”
You let out a small laugh,” It’s tears of joy that will make me cry. I won’t stop crying. Because I’ve already cried enough times tonight alone,” you tease him slightly.
“No. No more tears. Not after tonight. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” he states, raising an eyebrow playfully.
Leaning down, your gown’s right strap falls of your shoulder to reveal your pale flesh and even further when your breast is revealed completely. Your blush darkens and you bury your face in his neck.
His sharp breath makes you moan when he gets a clear sight of your bare nipple. Kissing your neck, his tongue hits your sensitive spot as he sucks your hardened tip lightly, making your knees weak and hands clutching on his hair.
You whimper softly, letting out small noises of pleasure as his lips travel lower down your body.
‘God, what is he doing?’ you think to yourself, your breathing growing heavier with every passing second.
Before you can question him, he slides your gown up your thighs till your bare pussy is exposed to his hungry eyes.
“Jungkook-!” you exclaim breathlessly, your whole body tensing up with nerves and anticipation, anticipating his next move.
“Shhh, don’t talk. I haven't stopped looking at you,” he murmurs huskily before lowering his face towards you.
Kissing you on the lips, he traces a path with his finger to your entrance. You let out a gasp and he immediately takes control, thrusting in two fingers. The burning sensation shoots straight to your clit making you arch your body upward, making him groan loudly against your ear.
“Breathe. Just breathe for me baby girl,” he breathes out harshly as he continues to finger fuck you slowly but steadily.
You can’t help but to whimper as his fingers are moving slowly inside of you, driving you crazy.
His tongue then slips inside your mouth, his fingers still moving inside you, causing you to let out another low moan as his mouth covers yours aggressively, thrusting inside of you relentlessly.
Bucking your hips against his lap, you felt his erection pulsing under your ass beneath that towel. Since he was in the shower, he didn’t put on any clothes on.
Moaning from the pleasure, you could only hold on, almost to the point of pain, not knowing how long will you last.
“Jungkook, Oh, Jungkook,” you pant against his lips and then your guard lost it, seeing you so close to orgasm.
Ripping the towel off his body, there was a second of silence, only your harsh breathing was heard in the room when he
enters you roughly. Your eyes flutter closed in shock before opening back up when you realize how deep he was.
The sound of air hitting your ears was the only thing you could hear as he began thrusting slowly into you, stretching you in all ways possible. The feeling of his thick muscles squeezing around your insides sent waves of arousal shooting through you and soon you were moaning into his lips as his thrusts became harder and harder.
You were coming apart at his touch. Your toes curled in pleasure as your body shook in his hold, your nails digging in to his shoulders as you came undone.
Jungkook moans loudly as he watched you come undone in front of him. His own orgasm was approaching quickly too.
Enveloping you with his wings, you see only darkness with his eyes glowing white,” Oh, my God! Oh, god, oh, god..! Yes! Fuck!” You scream out loud, feeling his hard cock hit the spot in you where you needed him most. As you start to tremble with pleasure once again, your eyes widen realizing that you couldn’t take a break,” Oh, yes, yes…” you don’t know how you even lived without this feeling before but you can’t stop thinking about him being here, now, with you, giving you pleasure like nothing you had ever experienced before.
Jungkook was beyond thrilled at the sight of you. Every time you came undone at him it was the best feeling in the world.
Taking your throat, he hits the spot deeper when your eyes roll back and you almost pass out.
“Fuck!” He growls, not even stopping when he finds his own realise.
There’s so much seed that you feel it spilling on both of you which causes your vision to blur for a moment. A small gasp escapes your throat as you come undone yet again, making you moan in pleasure.
After you finally finish your climax and your walls start feel sore, you slowly sit up on his lap, your hand on his chest.
Jungkook watches you intently, his gaze so hazy with lust and love, it’s almost scary to see him looking at you like that.
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you tight against his chest.
“I will arrange a priest to come to the castle tomorrow,” he murmurs against your ear.
“For what?” you ask, not understanding his purpose.
“To marry you, of course. I want you to be mine forever,” he answers and his voice sounds rough and strained, like he has been running for miles.
From his words, your walls clench around his cock and he groans, burying his head in your neck,” You like that, baby? Knowing that you will be my wife,” he whispers in your ear, his hot breath tickling your skin.
Licking your wet skin, he lets his teeth nip softly at your exposed shoulder and you let out a soft moan as goosebumps cover your entire body.
“Yes.” You whisper in return, tightening your grip on his muscular shoulders and pressing yourself to him,” I would like that very much.”
“Then it's settled. We shall get married as soon as possible,” he mutters into your ear.
You smile happily before leaning closer and placing a quick kiss on his jaw,” Okay, husband.” But not before you bumped your nose against his.
Your guardian angel only smirked," We really need to stop bumping into each other."
Be continued…
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p.s. All images and gifs are not mine, some of the edits are mine edited but not every picture. All the credit goes to their rightful owners
DO NOT REPOST THIS WORK AS YOUR OWN BECAUSE THIS IS THE ORIGINAL OWNER’S STORY
If you like, please reblog or like the post so I can post the next chapters :)
🅒 All rights reserved
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spiderfunkz · 21 hours
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✧ NOT A LOT, JUST FOREVER.
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summary : you create a memory that peter will remember forever.
word count : 0,5k
contains : tooth-rotting fluff, established relationship, reader and peter go stargazing.
a/n : inspired by my number #1 favorite movie ever which is 'eternal sunshine of the spotless mind' !!! i love this scene with all my heart and i thought it'd be cute to make a blurb inspired by it 💕
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the snow fell harsh.
peter never liked the cold. his sweaters were always too thin, or too thick, maybe too itchy and a little silly. he either loses one of his mittens or finds them ruined and dirty. and he never wore his beanie because he never wants to ruin his best quality— his hair.
you've always liked the cold. your sweaters were warm and hand knitted by one of your family members, your mittens fit perfectly in pairs, and you have an entire collection of beanies for every day of the week, decorated with pins and colorful clips.
there is also a reason why you liked the cold.
the hidden lake you've been going to since you were little freezes up. it's thick enough for you to walk on but slippery enough for you to fall.
you've gone ice skating there, made snowmen there, lost your boots there, and fell in there once, maybe twice. but you've never hated it. falling in cold ice gets you hot cocoa at the end! and a big headache.. and a sneezy nose..
but other than that you've loved it.
and you are so excited to share all of that with peter. even the headaches and sneezy noses.
"come on!"
you smile, peter holds your hand tightly as he steps on the ice for the first time. "it's very solid this time of year, don't worry."
"i'm not so sure about that." he's clinging to your arm, "come on, come on." you gesture.
"oh wow. i could see the city lights from here." peter grins, "pretty right?" you ask.
"very."
you don't notice peter's loving doe-eyes looking smiling at you and instead, you run into the middle of the lake before slipping.
"ow!"
"jeez, are you okay?" peter runs to you.
"you okay?" — "yeah i'm okay." you brush of the snow from your coat. "come on, now!" you gesture getting closer to the middle.
"i use to skate here sometimes. oh, we should do that sometimes!"
"i think i might cause the ice to crumble. and end up in 50 or so bruises." peter giggles, "i can teach you."
you give peter a smile before laying down on the ice, patting on the space beside you, gesturing for peter to follow along.
peter hesitates for a moment before following, "i think i heard a crack," he shook his head.
"it's not gonna break! or crack- it's so thick."
the stars shine above you. twinkling and glowing.
"show me which constellations you know."
"oh, i don't know any.." peter shrugs shyly, "yes you do! you took astronomy once!"
peter smiles, he pauses for a moment. "that's osidius," he points.
"where?" — "right there, see?" his cheek touched your cheek as he inched closer. "it's sort of a swoop and a cross. osidius the emphatic."
you smile and laugh.
"ooh look, that's us." peter points, "where?" you squint. peter takes your hand and slowly points in the direction of two stars.
"me, and you. you're the brighter one." peter says. "i'm the brighter one?" — "mhm, my bright, pretty, star."
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avocadorablepirate · 14 hours
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What Do We Call This? - 06
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Pairing: Trafalgar Law x fem!reader
Summary: On a quest to find what you've been looking for, you acquire the help of the Straw Hat pirates, who've agreed to let you temporarily join them. There are however many challenges that come along with your temporary recruitment - an alliance with a certain Trafalgar Law being one of them.
Word Count: 1.4K
Warnings: fluff, angst, kinda slow burn, swearing, the occasional OP spoiler
A/N: Protective Law reporting for duty. I didn't want to delve too much into the Zou arc so this is just Law being protective at various points in the arc. Also, can I just say, Zou Law is my favourite Law cause gawd dammit he looked so hot in that black button down shirt, you know the one....anyway, I hope you like it!
—⁠☆✿☆—⁠
Despite initially finding your newly acquired bounty amusing, it had made Law hyper-aware of your every move. While bounties would usually imply that you were more than capable of holding your ground in battle, to Law it signified a potential recklessness - a reason for you to test the limits of your powers to a dangerous extent, which only meant you could cause more harm to yourself than you had in the past. And whether it was the sudden soft spot he harboured for you or the fact that you had mentioned Corazon twice, indicating your familiarity - that intrigued him, Law felt protective.
This protective instinct first manifested when you were approaching Zou, or rather it was the first time Law had come to realise this need to protect you. He had watched as you emerged from one of the cabins and sat alone on the deck, a frown etched on your face. Prior to the incident at Dressrosa, he would have disregarded your demeanour, but now felt that his dynamic with you had shifted, and it was only right to show concern.
"Everything okay?" he inquired as he took the seat beside you, and the faint smile that you gave him, told him all that he needed to know.
"Who were you healing?" His eyes searched you for any fresh wounds, though you had done well to conceal your bruises with a long sleeved top and a pair of loose cargo pants, not to mention the bandages that you were already covered with.
"Some of Bartolomeo's crew had a few minor injuries, nothing to worry about," you reassured him with another smile, touched by his concern.
"Don't overwork yourself," he advised as he made himself comfortable beside you. If you attempted to heal anyone again, at least this time he could intervene.
The next time Law felt his protective instincts surge was when it came to climbing to the top of the elephant on whose back rested the island Zou, where his crew had been waiting for him. The pink dragon that Kanjuro had conjured up made Law feel uneasy. Regardless of the fact that he found your gushing over the dragon endearing, he couldn't imagine a single scenario in which a terribly drawn dragon would reach all of you to the top. However, there weren't any other options, and Luffy's excitement, plus your words of encouragement to the little dragon had everyone piling on top of him, with Law quick to take the place behind you.
The climb was going smoothly until Law noticed your body sway as if on the verge of unconsciousness. His arm instinctively encircled your waist, providing support as you fell against him. "What's wrong?" The tension in his voice was clear, and as he watched you struggle to stay awake he grabbed at your wrist to check your pulse.
"Using her powers on Bartolomeo's crew members must be making her drowsy. She should be awake by the time we reach the summit," Robin answered on your behalf, and Law couldn't help but click his tongue in frustration as you slumped further into his embrace, his hold on you tightening. He couldn't blame anyone for not knowing the repercussions of your powers, but the frustration grew within him towards everyone who had made you use those damn powers.
As Robin had said, you awoke just as the summit came into view. Law felt a sense of relief wash over him as you stirred in his arms, and with a gentle squeeze to your side grabbed your attention.
On feeling Law's presence behind you, you sat up straight and mumbled an apology as you fumbled to break away from his grasp, but he wouldn't let go, instead leaning closer to you, "I told you not to overexert yourself," he chided, and you rolled your eyes in response, missing his irate tone.
"This was before, and it really was nothing. I'm all good now." Despite your assurance, Law remained unconvinced. Once again silently vowing to protect you from any harm, especially in your endeavours to heal others.
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Law remained glued to your side as you ventured further into Zou and took to examining what remained of the Minks' residence. Earlier, he had let his guard down and you were nearly electrocuted by a Minks; luckily Zoro had stepped in before she could get a hold of you. Now he watched over you carefully, his sharp gaze scanning the surroundings for any potential dangers.
"This looks like it was used to inflict torture." Law eyed you with concern when the words you spoke were accompanied with a tremor as you took in the remnants of the wooden cross that had been stuck to the ground, worry settling in the pit of your stomach. From a little further ahead Usopp yelled something about a huge drop of water, and from where you were crouched on the ground inspecting the wreckage you strained your neck to see what had cast a huge shadow onto the ground.
"We need to get to higher ground!" You heard Robin instruct through the sudden chaos. Before you could even comprehend what you were looking at, Law's hand closed around your arm, a tinge of annoyance in the sigh he let out as he transported everyone to the top of a building that hadn't been destroyed in the earlier conflict.
As you caught your breath, your heart racing from the sudden teleportation, you looked around, taking in the view from the elevated point. The destruction that spread out before you was a clear sign of the chaos that had engulfed the country, and once again a feeling of dread settled over you. You tried to peak your head over the edge of the building, curiosity getting the best of you as you attempted to catch a glimpse of the water from above flood the city. But Law's grip on your arm remained firm, holding you back from leaning any further. Fate seemed determined to test his resolve to protect you.
"Stay back, we don't know when these buildings could collapse," his voice was authoritative yet imbued with concern as he pulled you away from the edge, and you couldn't help but throw him a glare. At first his concern for your well-being had been endearing, but now it almost felt suffocating; his overprotectiveness acting as a sign that he didn't think you could handle yourself.
"I can take care of myself, you know," you muttered under your breath.
"I'd rather not take any chances," he didn't miss the irritation in your tone, countering it with his own stern response. Before you could retort, Usopp's voice cut through the almost rising tension, alerting all of you that he had spotted Luffy.
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Even when Law had to momentarily separate from the group to reunite with his crew, he was reluctant to leave your side. He would claim that he would go look for them, but then wouldn't move an inch, instead his eyes fixating on you in a silent plea for you to say that you would join him. Though that was far from what you wanted. You were looking forward to reuniting with the other Straw Hats for a short banquet, and if anything craved to get away from Law's protectiveness.
Just when he had had enough of the indirect approach, and was on the verge of suggesting that you come along with him, you spoke up, seizing the opportunity to get away, "Law your crew's probably waiting for you, we'll catch up with you later." You locked arms with Nami and Robin and pulled them away before he could even get a word in.
Law, ever perceptive, knew you were trying to keep your distance, and it was starting to bug him how good you were at it. Upon returning with his crew, his interactions with you were short-lived; you would either swiftly engage in conversation with someone else, or make a quick exit the second he took his eyes off you. Your avoidance made it clear to Law that you would be more inclined to go with Luffy to Whole Cake Island, whether it was to retrieve Sanji, or evade him. Nevertheless, Law remained determined to keep you by his side. As discussions about the division of the group for the missions to Whole Cake Island and Wano arose, he was quick to suggest that you accompany him.
"Why?" you asked, your curiosity sparked by his unwavering insistence, and for a fleeting second you thought you saw a flicker of hesitation before he composed himself, "I need your assistance." His cryptic response didn't give you the explanation you were looking for, it was however, compelling, and you found yourself willingly agreeing to accompany him nonetheless.
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A/N: Next chapter is the one that I wrote well in advance (⁠ノ⁠◕⁠ヮ⁠◕⁠)⁠ノ we've made it this far ᕙ⁠(͡⁠°⁠‿⁠ ͡⁠°⁠)⁠ᕗ
taglist: @trafalgardaria @deathsmajestysworld
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citrine-elephant · 10 months
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new game plus
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werecreature-addicted · 2 months
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okay but what a fallen angel who you happen to stumble upon all bloody and bruised. and we must take him home to care for him and oops somehow we end up in his lap taking care of him in other ways…
poor thing. pathetic and wretched. He doesn't deserve your soft touch, but he accepts it anyway. who cares if he's being selfish right now, greedy and sinful. He's already fallen, how much worse can it get? you treat him the best you can, his injuries heal on their own, but he doesn't tell you that. He like your touch, and the way you coo at him that "this might sting a little bit". It does sting but he doesn't mind. He's fascinated by this new sensation of pain. Injuries never touched him before in the heavens. it's... not good, but it is fascinating.
His wings heal, and work again but the feathers turn black, marking his fall. You should be disgusted with him, he's defied his master, and now he's something unholy. You seem fascinated by his wings, running your fingers through his soft wings, and telling him how pretty he looks. and your laugh, heavens above, your laugh is sweeter than any church bells, he thinks he'd do anything to hear you giggle for him and see you smile.
He's obsessed with your touch, with the warmth your hands bring. He doesn't know what "touch starved" means until you explain it to him but it perfectly describes him and how he feels. He's an angel, not a human, he shouldn't need skinship like you do. but he does crave it. he doesn't want to let you go when you hug him. he finds himself pressing his face into your palm, forcing you to cradle his cheek the way you did that first night when you found him.
As an angel, all be it a fallen one, he's never had sex but he wasn't born yesterday. Lust has always been a temptation he struggled with. He knows what it means when his heartbeat quickens every time you're near. he knows he wants to kiss you, touch every inch of you, fuck you. He's aware of his own carnal desires, he's just so used to denying these wants he isn't sure how to act on them.
He truly does have pure intentions when he pulls you onto his lap. holding you in his big arms. But then you shift a little too much and your mouth is already so close to his... you'll take care of him, right? you'll take his big cock and make him cum like he needs, right? you're his savor, and now bringing him to ecstasy like this, He'll gladly devote himself to you, just keep riding him like that.
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simonrileysfavteacup · 2 months
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The Morning After
Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader
Word count: 700 ish?
Warnings: Mentions to sex, hickeys, naked people, Simon wanting you for breakfast
Summary: The morning after a steamy night.
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Sunlight creeps in through the curtains you never closed last night. The curtains fly around the room, pushed by the daring wind. The window’s are still open, letting in the chirps of birds outside. The wind pushes a breeze around the room and you shiver.
You’re laying on your right shoulder. There’s a heavy arm that isn’t yours draped across your waist. There’s a head tucked into the crook of your neck. There’s another forearm underneath your head. There’s someone’s heavy breathing going straight into your neck. You can feel a bit of stubble. You can feel hair, long, soft hair. You can feel a strong chest against your back. All of it is memorized in your mind.
And there’s only one person in the whole world who’s body you know inch by inch. 
You squint as you open your eyes, the sunlight almost killing you. The duvet is all messed up, barely covering your tangled bodies. His right arm is underneath your head, draped off your side of the bed. His grip on your waist is loose, he’s still asleep. His breathing is even, you can feel it. 
You push yourself out of bed slightly, making a move to shut the window and close the curtains. He grabs onto your waist tightly and pulls you back into the position you were in before. His voice is raspy, almost not even there, as he says, “Five more minutes.”
It should be illegal. His voice. His hair. His chest slowly falling and rising. It should be illegal to look this fucking good in the morning.
“Just wanna close the window,” You reply, keeping your voice hushed. 
“Who gives a shit?” He pulls the duvet higher over you, covering your naked body from the wind. “There. Now, give me 10 more minutes.”
His hand goes back to your waist, covering the soft maroon and purple bruises that formed throughout the night. 
So, you lay back down, take in a deep breath, and try to fall asleep. 
At least an hour goes by before you finally wake up again. Your position hasn’t changed and Simon’s hold on your waist is loose again. You finally move, getting up from bed. He doesn’t pull you back this time, but rolls over. He lets out a groan. “Oh, shut up, you big baby. I gave you more than 10 minutes.”
He doesn’t respond. Just lets out another groan, but louder and longer.
You grab the shirt he wore last night, the one he threw into a random corner of the room, more focused on your body. You toss it into the hamper. His pants and boxers are thankfully close enough to the hamper, yours nowhere to be found. Guess he was a little too excited.
You walk into the bathroom, getting a fine look at yourself in the mirror.
Hickeys and the traces of fingertips line your neck and chest, your hips and legs are covered, and I mean covered, in bruises. On both sides of your hips are marks of large, muscular hands. The marks are red, and it doesn’t look like it’ll all fade in the next hour. You turn slightly, getting a look at your back. Your ass is marked the same way your hips are, with large hand prints, your back thankfully okay. 
“You’re hurt,” Simon’s voice is barely above a whisper as he stares at you from the bed. 
This happens every time he leaves a mark on you. He turns cold again, becoming distant in fear of hurting you again. Every single time. It takes so many words of encouragement to get him to open up again, assuring him it didn’t hurt. 
“They’ll fade,” You shrug.
“I hurt you,” He whispers. 
“No, you didn’t. Last night was probably one of the best nights of my entire life, love. Don’t you dare think I’m in any sort of pain or anything. I’m fine,” You smile at him. “And I left a fair share of marks on you. Look at your back.”
He lets out a soft chuckle, looking over at you again. “Promise?”
“Swear on my life,” You smile. “You want breakfast?”
“Mhm,” He hums, walking over to you and kneeling in front of you. “It’s already served.” Are his last words before diving in between your legs.
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headkiss · 8 months
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I LOVE the idea of protective Hotch constantly having an eye out for younger bau!agent who’s literally sunshine personified and the complete opposite of him!! Do u think u could write something along the lines of that—maybe him protecting her from something or just their dynamic?
i also love protective hotch!!! tysm for the request i hope u like it baby :D | 1k of fluff, tw for a small burn!
You’d been surprised when you got a job at the BAU. You didn’t have that much faith in yourself at first. Not to say you don’t believe in your skills, but it’s a widely known part of the bureau. A lot of people wanted the job.
And then, there’s Agent Hotchner, unit chief and intimidating though you’re sure he doesn’t mean to be. You were insanely nervous at the beginning.
That was before you started, before the team welcomed you as the new media liaison after Agent Jareau became a profiler. You met Garcia and her collection of fun high heels, Reid and his never ending supply of facts, and you sort of fit right in.
Hotch became much less intimidating. A kind man who cares so deeply for his team that you couldn’t help but like him the way you do. Not to mention the dynamic that built between the two of you.
The small things he does for you that are impossible to ignore. A hand covering the edge of your desk to protect your head when you were searching underneath it for a dropped paper clip, the way he physically places himself between you and danger if he ever gets the chance.
He’s always there, protecting you in ways both big and little, and you enjoy it more than you should.
It’s even brighter on nights like tonight. Drinks and snacks at Penelope’s after a tough case. Nights when you get to call him Aaron instead of Hotch, when he smiles and laughs freely without restraint.
The beep of the oven cuts off yours and Garcia’s conversation, and when she shifts to take care of it, you stop her, “I got it! You’re already hosting, just relax a little.”
“Thank you,” she smiles, squeezing your arm as you walk by.
The smell of food in the oven hits your nose as you walk into the kitchen, humming along to whatever song spills through the speakers.
You pull the oven open, reaching in without thinking and touching the pan with your bare hand. You drop it quickly, metal clanking as it falls back onto the rack in the oven.
“Shit!” You say it loudly, and then, even louder, addressing the team in the next room, “I’m okay!”
They all laugh a little at your reassurance, and then, like they know he wouldn’t let anyone else check on you before him, pretty much every set of eyes in the room lands on Hotch.
He shakes his head and heads to the kitchen, because he would’ve gone either way.
“You okay?” He asks, finding you with an oven mitt on your non-burnt hand, reaching into the oven, and your burnt hand shaking by your side.
“Oh!” You set the pan of nachos on top of the stove and slip off the mitt, turning off the oven and looking at Hotch. “I forgot oven mitts were a thing for a second there. Burnt my hand, I think.”
He’s on you in a second, his hands gently grasping your injured arm, pushing back your sleeve and guiding you over to the sink. His hold is light, never bruising even though you know he has the strength to do so.
It’s the kiss of sunlight on skin.
Aaron turns on the sink, places his fingers under the water to make sure the temperature’s okay before guiding your hand under the stream.
“You still took out the nachos first?” He asks, even when he knows that’s what you’d do, because of course you’re worrying about everyone else before yourself.
“I didn’t want them to burn.”
You’re trying to be brave, though your hand hurts so much there are tears misting your eyes. You’re bouncing on your feet a little to try and deal with the pain.
“How bad does it hurt?” Hotch checks.
Aaron’s felt this sort of protectiveness over you ever since you started. A little younger than him, this ball of light that’s come bursting into his life. You’re always the positive one, even in the darkest situations and he can’t help but want to shield you to keep it that way.
There’s this thing in his chest that tugs and tugs when you’re around, that makes him stand next to you in any room, in front of you in darkness.
“It’s okay,” you say, though your voice cracks a little. “I’m sure you’ve seen much worse, Hotch.”
“Aaron,” he reminds you gently, “and you don’t have to pretend. It’s alright if it hurts, I just wanna help.”
The sink running mingles with the music coming from the next room, the background noise to your moment with him.
“You could bring the nachos out? I told Garcia I would, but we see how that turned out.”
“Okay, I'll bring them out.”
“Don’t forget oven mitts!”
He huffs with a smile, somehow always surprised with how easily you can turn something around. A smile on your face even with tears shining in your eyes and a hand that’s surely stinging.
Aaron carries the tray of nachos and drops them off, then turns to Penelope, “you have a first aid kit?”
“Oh my gosh! Yeah, bathroom cabinet, I can grab it.”
“It’s alright, Garcia. I’ll get it.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Don’t worry. Nothing major, I’m taking care of it.”
He grabs the first aid kit and heads back to the kitchen where you’re still holding your hand under the stream of water.
“Okay,” Aaron sets the kit down on the counter, opening it and then turning off the tap. “Let me see, honey.”
The word melts into you, sticky sweet, and you hold your hand towards him, palm up.
He starts by drying your hand with a piece of paper towel, pressing your skin lightly. His other hand is under yours, his palm against the back of your hand a painkiller in itself.
You hiss when he hits a sensitive spot, and he’s quick to apologize, his voice low and quiet. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Almost done.”
“It’s okay, Aaron. It's not your fault I thought I was heat-proof.”
“You’re cute.”
A smile spreads over your face, your head tilted down to stare and his hands around yours. You watch him spread some Polysporin over your burn, his fingertips featherlight over your skin, soft apologies leaving him every time you flinch a little.
By the time he’s done, the first aid kit shut on the counter, you’ve both forgotten about the rest of the team in the next room. Aaron’s happy to bask in your sunshine.
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anantaru · 1 month
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two new characters of hsr were confirmed. Aventurine and Gallagher one-night stand?? LIKE??
including. aventurine, gallagher
synopsis. having a one-night stand
cw. [ex]plicit, reader wears a dress, strangers to lovers, semi public (outside the bar, gallagher's part), fingering, car syx, dirty talk, gallagher smells like alcohol but he is not drunk okay he just smells like it HAHA, fem! reader
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— ꒰ AVENTURINE ꒱ + one night stand in the car
hot exhales of air hit your glossed lips, and those erratic movements of your hips, all adjoined to your skimpy dress sticking to your body— you do not think, do not form any thoughts, you only leave it to the lust to guide your figure as you straddle the hips of a stranger.
your lips bruised, thoroughly bitten when aventurine captures them with his heated tongue— he laps across it while grabbing a fistful of your ass to rub you against his erection, practically dragging the moans off the tip of your tongue.
his name, you've never really heard it before yet when you two coincidentally met, it's like he knew exactly what to say in order to have you wrapped around his finger.
and before you knew it, you ended up in the back of his car, driven by desire to taste the handsome stranger with everything you've got. "kinda crowded in here, ugh... whatever, come here," he smirks at you, devilishly, as his hands hold your hips dear and push you closer. you're too aroused to even function properly anymore, both loving and hating the anticipation of almost reaching your climax as the candid scent of his cologne made your mouth water. you grip at his shoulders as his fast rhythm sets in, your heart beat rising when he bottoms out to fuck your cunt faster.
"oh, fuck…" he grits his teeth when you shudder tight on top of him now, rutting your swollen pussy into his cock as moan a slides up through your throat, "i need to keep you just like that," he boldly rasps into your ear, low and urgent with a smirk almost too candid, almost too pure, contradicting his hungry movements, "keep you like this, yeah? hot and desperate and gorgeous until, until… until…"
it's the perfect amount of speed, pressure and thickness, aventurine fucks you like he's known you for years, and his lips taste so poetic, softly licking at them just wasn't doing it. he personally got fond of the joyful lightness that's in your eyes, or the slightest tingling from the exhales of your moans hitting his eardrums as he finds himself becoming addicted to a stranger.
his eyelashes flutter at your heavenly tunes as he looks down between the mess you've made— your arousal melting into shaft as the air gets filled with that of sinful scents, immediately sending sparks of deep enchant through the entirety of your spine.
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— ꒰ GALLAGHER ꒱ + one night stand outside the bar
there's no one else on this side of the alley, and the only clatters and chit-chats you could notice were shrill, outside yells and slurred talks coming from drunk people standing outside the bar— yet again, from this particular place, you were alone in the cold night with the pulse of your heightened heartbeat washing over you.
gallagher, the name of the stranger who weirdly enough, took his time to discover your secret places and memorize your curves. the man couldn't possibly stop sliding his warm palms over your skin before covering your chest, it's futile, tickling your collarbones, watching you whine, then trailing his fingers along your neck, looking at how you're swallowing down the budding saliva on your tongue.
he exhales through his parted mouth as you take in the scent of cheap alcohol, wanting nothing more than his big, strong hands to keep touching you like that all night long.
he continues to stroke the planes of your face, marvelling in the gentleness of your features, before ultimately rounding up his inspection to your arms— yes, indeed, he's certain he memorized you entirely, giving you a little hum of appreciation as your arms wrap around his neck, holding him close.
gallagher captures your lips in a melting heat of passion as you lean back against the cold wall, closing your eyes to be carried along by the sensual moments of his traces guiding you.
his large hands on your hips made you shiver— you do not know the man yet they feel so good, they promise yet conceal so much. the loudness of people outside too— or the penetrating talks as you've been hidden behind a wall of golden lust, concealed by an even bigger body towering over you.
it made this situation so much more filthier, hotter and send waves of pleasure to overwhelm you.
the coldness of the wall left an impression on you, a cold hug that was ultimately cancelled by gallagher's warm hands messily pushing your dress up to find your soaked panties.
he doesn't waste more time before he presses two fingers against your clothed folds, slowly getting there. you're moving as one, and the laps of his tongue on your lips were thick like molasses, always licking his pink muscle over your own before reaching down to pull the drenched panties aside, his raw digits now hovering over your hole.
by no means was this something you'd normally do, just hook up with a random stranger— it was altogether too quick, to unpersonal yet somehow this particular night, it was stronger in its pleasure and heat than you've ever known it before.
you open your legs a little to invite him as the muscles in his arms bunch under his skin when he fingers you with two thick digits curled deep inside— although shockingly enough, he's tender and gentle with you, which came as a surprise, testing the waters on your pussy as he scissors your hole and teases your walls with his fingertips.
"that feels good?" gallagher questions whilst watching in awe how you ride his hand for him, the rough pads of his digits pulling the breath out of you as your body tingles and arches into his chest, "yeah.. that's s-so good," you close your eyes, both breathing hard— yet in truth, it was already easy for you to discern a big smile on his face, one of being greatly pleased by your answer while the man was marveling at the smoothness and the lovely muscles of your hole twitching around him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own
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dilfsfordinner · 1 month
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summary- toji fails to prevent a completely preventable messy incident from occurring, involving his son
pairing- husband toji x fem!reader
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“You wanna do it?” Toji grinned, eyebrows raised as he watched little Megumi tug the ratchet from his grasp, waddling towards the raised car, brave enough to face the thing he’d thought a transformer just months prior.
Your car was in dire need of an oil change and being the caring husband that he was, Toji took up his place as mechanic for the day, his worry about typical shop workers taking advantage of women evident in his pleas for you to just stay home and let him do it.
Megumi also took up his place as the incredibly curious and stubborn one year old, his job apparently to make Toji’s work as hard as humanly possible, every babble or questionable crash tearing Toji’s attention away from the task at hand, which is why he stopped trying, and just let his son indulge in his childlike curiosity.
Of course, you would lose your mind if you knew that your baby was around such a large machine, but Toji knew himself and his capabilities, his reflexes practically inhuman, so he didn’t really mind a little thing running around his feet, as long as he kept an eye out.
“Alright, Megs, give it back,” Toji said gently, hand curling open to reveal a waiting palm, Toji realizing that the young boy did not intend to help him underneath the car. Rather, he’d started a game of tag, little feet scurrying to the other side of the garage, awaiting his father’s move.
Refusing to let a one year old bruise his competitive spirit, Toji used his skills to be across the room in a split second, large hands grabbing Megumi before he could run away, a loud slew of giggles leaving the young boy’s lips, Toji smiling as he held him up with only two hands, walking towards the car like he was holding a feral cat.
Setting the babbling child down, Toji got down on his level, kneeling to tell Megumi to stay back and watch for a second. Pulling himself under the car, Toji then began to use Megumi like a little assistant, asking for tools as needed. “Wrench please” and similar phrases continued for a while before Toji was ready to actually do the task at hand.
Humming in approval at his handiwork, Toji made one final request to the boy sitting beside his feet. “Can you get the jug of oil for me, please?” he asked gently, hands busy holding the port above him closed, his ears catching an excited “yes” and the patter of running feet retreating farther into the garage.
Too preoccupied to notice the unusual length of time it was taking for his son to grab the requested bottle, Toji continued his tinkering before an odd smack sounded, glugging sounds following soon after.
Pausing his movements, Toji craned his neck to try and see his son but before he could even question what had happened, a familiar sniffle sounded at his feet, loud cries flowing from his baby’s mouth.
Sighing, Toji quickly screwed the oil duct tight, and pulled himself from under the car. The sight he emerged to was certainly a surprising one. There, right next to all of his discarded tools, was an oil-covered Megumi, his whole body completely drenched with the thick, black substance.
Letting out a sympathetic laugh and sweet “It’s okay”s, Toji scooped up his crying child, tutting as the dripping kid hid his face in his dad’s chest, trying to hide or remove the liquid, Toji couldn’t tell.
Completely clueless to the situation outside, you were busy in the kitchen, making a snack for your husband as a thank you. For the first time in an hour, familiar footsteps sounded behind you as you chopped up some vegetables, smiling to yourself as you expected two arms to come wrap around you. What you didn’t expect was to hear the wails of your baby boy, and you especially couldn’t have prepared yourself to see him in the flesh.
“What happened,” you gasped as Toji held the young boy to his chest, a black trail of droplets gathering around his feet as you rushed up to the two of them. Cradling little Megumi’s face, oil coated your hands, anger bubbling inside of you, the only funnel being a slap to your husband’s shoulder, narrowed eyes turning up to meet his own.
“I told you to leave him in here,” you huffed, your angry tone fizzling into sympathetic coos as your attention turned back to your son. “It was an accident,” Toji’s voice had that humorous lilt to it, one that was really good at making your very motherly nature less worrisome. “It happens to workers all the time, he’ll be okay.”
And he was right, because after what seemed to be hours of scrubbing and a whole bottle of dawn dish soap later, the previously oily Megumi was squeaky clean, and incredibly happy as he munched away on his dinner. Toji couldn’t help but retell the story a million times, ignoring your reprimanding words as he fell into a fit of laughter, which eventually had your lips starting to pull into a smile, Megumi none the wiser, his memory about the incident already wiped away.
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avis-writeshq · 1 month
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hi! could i request track one with spencer reid where reader gets drunk and needy for spencer 😭 but he denies (cuz yk shes drunk) and just takes care of him please? thank you!
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off my face — spencer reid
summary: “i’m off my face in love with you.” in which reader gets drunk and spencer has to nurse her back to health. pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: established relationship, fluff warnings: rated 16+ for allusions to smut, reader gets drunk, reader wears lipstick and a dress, mentions of throwing up [not in detail], spencer being sickeningly perfect, lots of pet names, inspired by that one video of matthew. you know which one i’m talking about. a/n: i er… got carried away because i love this trope 😔 i am in fact obsessed wc: 1.23k
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It’s too loud. Granted, it’s a club; it’s supposed to be loud. Spencer cringes a little as the music somehow manages to get even louder and he sips at his coke. He has your purse in his lap and he’s also manning your drink like a guard dog; moving himself to the furthest seat in the booth that is away from the crowd. Your inevitable return is a lot sooner than he expected, and he watches with amusement as you slide into the booth and curl into his side, reaching for your drink. 
“Have fun?” Spencer asks with a soft laugh, one arm wrapping around your shoulders as he presses a kiss to the top of you head. 
“Mm,” you hum in affirmation, eagerly sipping at the sugary concoction in front of you. “Would’ve been funner with you, baby.”
He laughs louder at that, rolling his eyes teasingly and squeezing at the flesh of your waist. “You know it wouldn’t have been.”
“Bet you’d be real sexy with all that sweat dripping off you,” you coo, your voice sickeningly sweet as your fingers move to toy with the buttons of his shirt. 
Your fingers are wet with the condensation from the chilled glass of your cocktail and they brush against the sensitive skin of his collarbone. A shudder runs down his spine at the contact, and his cheeks grow hot. His hand finds your wrist and he holds it firmly, but not enough to hurt. 
“Don’t,” he says, half jokingly half seriously as he moves his head to track your gaze. “How much have you had to drink, angel?”
You ignore the question, moving your fingers upward to brush against a blooming purple mark near his collar. A pout rests on your lips as you gesture to it, a frown forming on your face. “Who gave this to you?”
He bristles, moving the flap of his collar to cover the bruise. “You did. This morning.”
“Oh yeah!” The smile returns to your face awfully fast and a giggle bubbles up from your throat. “You love me.”
“I do,” he agrees, kissing your head again. 
Your expression is all too gleeful as you move your head just at the right time so that he lips would meet yours. He pulls away after a brief moment, about to say something else, when you effectively cut him off by pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 
“Angel– sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” he says gently, prying your needy fingers away and holding them firmly in his hand. 
“Nuh uh,” you deny, leaning forward again and kissing his neck right where you left a mark earlier that morning. 
He jolts at the contact, pulling away as pink rises to his cheeks. “We’re not doing this while you’re drunk, honey.”
You blatantly ignore him, maneuvering yourself so that you’s practically half on his lap with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck. He doesn’t mind the attention, per se. He just feels incredibly guilty about enjoying it when you’re loopy from all the cocktails you have had. You’re pressing kisses against his cheeks while your hands play with the collar of his shirt, tugging at the purple tie you chose earlier that day and there are lipstick stains all over his skin. He’s well aware of it; bright red with a sticky residue and he will forever not understand how you can wear it all the time. 
His tie has come undone entirely and you pull at his shirt to kiss dangerously close to his collarbone. 
“Okay–” he’s flushing scarlet and he doesn’t dare meet the eyes of anyone in the team. “Okay, baby, that’s enough. Let’s get you home.”
“Ooh,” you giggle, wiggling your eyebrows with insinuation.
“You need sleep.” He says it sternly, although you don’t seem to grasp the concept. 
“What kind of sleep?” You ask, winking. 
He shakes his head, amused and exasperated, as he rebuttons his shirt and reties his tie. “The REM kind. Come on, angel. Say good night to your friends.”
You giggle tiredly, waving goodbye to your friends. Penelope looks absolutely hammered, wiggling her eyebrows at you with an expression full of insinuation. Emily is smirking in your direction, swirling her martini around before taking a sip. JJ looks equally elated, snickering softly as she holds onto Will’s arm. 
Spencer ushers you gently into his car, leaning over the console to open the glove box on your side and brandishing a packet of micellar water wipes. He takes out two for himself before passing the rest of them to you.
“For your makeup,” he explains, wiping the lipstick marks off his cheeks. “I’ll help you with your skincare when we get home, alright?”
You’re in love. It isn’t long before he’s helping you up the stairs of his apartment and sitting you gently on the couch. Your eyes are droopy and it seems like the sugar high from your cocktails is wearing off. Spencer runs his fingers through your hair gently while he holds a glass of cold water to your lips, urging you to drink. You only do it to appease him and once he’s satisfied with your water intake, he’s reaching for the zip of your dress.
“Someone’s needy,” you coo, giggling as he pulls it down to just below your ribcage. “Gonna rough me up?”
“No.” He answers it swiftly, and had you been sober your heart would have split in two. He continues, “I’m going to put you in something more comfortable and then you’re going to sleep.”
“Boring.”
“No, it’s not– it’s not boring,” he flounders, his cheeks growing hotter at your words. He can’t believe he’s arguing with a drunk person. “It’s not boring, baby, it’s safe. Alcohol is a neuro inhibitor. There’s a reason why you can’t drink and drive and it’s because the brain’s neural activity patterns are suppressed or blocked. That’s also the reason why you can’t ask a drunk person for consent; they don’t know or understand what’s going on around them.”
You’ve half fallen asleep at his explanation, the sleeves of your dress falling down your arms and a shiver runs down your spine. “So we’re not going to be partaking in passionate steamy love making?”
“No, we’re not,” he confirms, pulling your favourite pair of cotton pyjamas over your head. It’s a pale pink set with little bows prints all over it and a lacy collar. “Lift your hips for me, angel, I need to get the shorts on you.”
You comply, kicking the dress off into some forbidden corner of the room and Spencer takes this chance to slip the matching shorts onto your legs and up your thighs. The rest of the night is smooth sailing from there– he has successfully applied your skincare in such a way that you would be singing his praises. He has also managed to get you to drink another cup of water, and even though you’re going to wake up complaining about the fact you need to pee. He’d rather you complain about that instead of some raging headache. 
Spencer climbs under the covers next to you, pulling you into his chest and kissing your shoulder. A soft snore leaves your lips and he can’t help but chuckle. Passed out, as expected. 
“Good night, angel,” he murmurs into your ear, holding you tight. “See you in the morning.”
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reblogs are always appreciated !!
event page
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angelfic · 9 months
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Howdy! Could I request a Theodore Nott, secret relationship, “don’t leave me… please”. ❤️
here u go!! i actually really like this idea and kind of wanna recycle it for a longer fic maybe.. 🤔 thank u for the request! 💌
theodore nott x reader + secret relationship + “don’t leave me… please”
➺ part of my 2k milestone writing game
You’re stressfully stirring sugar into your tea in the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place when Mattheo and Theodore turn up, bruised and bloody in the hands of Alastor Moody.
The Auror had sent a message in advance through his Patronus, alerting members of the Order that he was heading to headquarters with two death eater defectors. An hour of hoping it’s who you think, and three cups of tea later, you breathe a sigh of relief when you realise Mattheo and Theo are alive.
The way Theo is leaning his weight on Mattheo doesn’t slip past you, and as soon as he finds you among the others, you rush forward.
“Hi,” Theo whispers, the greeting reserved only for you despite the numerous others in the dining room. His eyes are drooping slightly as he sways on his feet. Nonetheless, he gives you a weak smile. “I’m okay. I promise.”
You nod slowly, brows furrowed in concern despite his reassurance. Ignoring Moody’s confused stares, along with the whispering happening behind you, you do a quick scan of Mattheo and find that he’s definitely had worse injuries from spontaneous fist fights during your years at Hogwarts.
“Are you okay?” you mouth at him, just in case. He winks at you in answer.
Moody, seemingly snapping out of his confusion, turns to you and raises a brow. “You know these two, then?” he asks gruffly, a hint of suspicion creeping into his voice.
“We all went to school together,” Dean Thomas pipes up, saving you from having to stumble over your words in an attempt to explain your relationship with Theo.
There’s no doubt in your mind that everyone in the room suspects you and Theo are more than just schoolmates, but you don’t move to address anything. The implications of you being in love with an ex-death eater aside, it’s none of their business. Moody doesn’t quite seem to accept this immediately.
”School,” he mutters, nodding begrudgingly. “And how well do you-”
“Alastor,” McGonagall cuts him off sharply. Peering at him over her spectacles, she purses her lips. “You can get to interrogating them about being Transfiguration partners after they’ve recovered. These boys need a healer. Now.”
“Yes, yes,” Moody replies grumpily, reluctantly letting them go to open the door to the hall. “We’ve got Poppy in the living room. She’ll fix them up, nice and quick.”
You step back to give the two boys space to make their way to the Healer, but Theo catches your hand and grips it tightly. “No. No, Y/N can do it. Just give her some of the medicine, I’m not seeing anyone else.”
You open your mouth to object, wanting Madame Pomfrey to assess him properly, but the pleading in his eyes has you hesitating.
“Don’t leave me…” Theo’s voice becomes lower, quieter and earnest. “Please.”
“Okay,” you exhale, cupping his face with your hand and stroking your thumb over his cheekbone. You look over at Professor McGonagall for confirmation and when she sighs and nods, you respond with a grateful smile before turning back to Theo. “I won’t leave you.”
Mattheo clears his throat, popping the little bubble you and Theo have found yourself in and making you look away, cheeks warm. Walking over to where Moody holds the door open, Mattheo gives you both a knowing look before speaking to the rest of the room. “I guess I‘ll be seeing dear, old Poppy alone then. Nothing she hasn’t fixed before.”
Taking this as your cue to leave, you wrap an arm around Theo’s waist to support him as you make your way out of the room and up the stairs to an empty room. You help him to sit on the bed and disentangle your hand from his, dropping a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I need to go get the stuff from Madame Promfrey, I won’t be a minute-”
“Not yet,” Theo pleads, hooking pinky finger around your own and tugging lightly. “I’m not that injured, just… come here for a second.”
Your resolve crumbles immediately due to not having seen Theo since school ended a month ago, during which he was trying to leave the other side of the war without getting himself killed. You sit next to him on the bed, but he immediately reaches over to manoeuvre you by the waist until your legs are wrapped around him in a straddling position. Theo presses a soft kiss to your lips and the pure love radiating from him makes your heart jump to your throat. When he pulls away, he looks more relaxed and content than he has in months.
“Hi,” he says, a gentle smile playing about his lips while he fingers the hem of your shirt where it sits at your back. Tingles run down your spine where his cold fingers brush against your skin and you end up leaning into his chest even more, causing his smile to deepen. “I missed you, darling.”
“What, Crabbe and Goyle weren’t good company?” you tease, tilting your head. Theo scoffs in disgust, lightly tugging on a lock of your hair and looking at you expectantly. “I missed you too, Theo. So, so much. I’m glad you got out.”
“Me too,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder. You both stay in silence for a few minutes and you bask in the warmth of Theo’s breaths fanning over your collarbone. He nestles his face into your neck and seems perfectly happy just to stay there when he speaks. “It was torture staying away, you know. I’m never leaving your side again.”
You run your fingers through Theo’s hair, lightly scratching at his scalp and biting back a smile when he lets out a sound halfway between a sigh and a groan. “You being glued to me is probably going to make it clear that we’re more than ex-Transfiguration partners, by the way.”
“I bet you anything they all already know,” Theo murmurs distractedly. You frown and sit up straighter to look at him, raising a curious brow in questioning. He looks at you like it’s obvious. “Mattheo is downstairs, unsupervised. If he hasn’t told everyone by now…”
You shake your head, shifting to move off Theo’s lap. A pout forms on his lips, but he reluctantly lets you stand. “I better go do some damage control while I go get the stuff from Pomfrey. Merlin knows what embarrassing things Mattheo is telling them right now.”
“I can think of a few things,” Theo says, his innocent voice contrasting with the devious smirk on his face. “Like the time we were in the Astronomy Tower and you were too loud, so-”
“Right, okay!” you interrupt loudly, screwing your eyes shut in embarrassment as you try your best not to relive that particular memory. Taking a deep breath and ignoring the way Theo is cracking up, you smile sweetly at him. “You haven’t had any injuries to the head, have you?”
“No, love,” he replies, grinning. “Why?”
You grab a pillow and swing it into Theo’s face, knocking him backwards on the bed. Crossing your arms in satisfaction, you falter when he stays laying down and moans in pain.
“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?” you rush out, panicked as you move the pillow out of the way to climb onto the bed and hover over him. Theo cracks his eyes open slightly, his face scrunched up in discomfort and your stomach drops. “Theo, where does it hurt?”
“Here, come closer,” Theo winces, gesturing you forward, closer and closer and you furrow your brows in confusion. When you’re close enough, he snakes his hand around to the nape of your neck and pulls you into a deep kiss, burying his fingers in your hair. You don’t bother admonishing him, your head getting dizzy from the feel of his lips moving against your own. You only pull away when you hear sudden laughter coming from downstairs. Theo doesn’t look ashamed in the slightest when you do. “All better.”
“Not yet, you’re not,” you say, rolling your eyes and sitting up again. You make sure you put all of your weight on the mattress to do so, just in case you actually do end up hurting him. “I’m actually going downstairs now, okay? The idea of Mattheo talking to McGonagall is driving me crazier by the minute.”
“Come back quickly?” he asks lightly, but there’s a hint of pleading in the way his hand circles your wrist. You give him a reassuring smile and another quick peck on the lips.
“Always.”
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help-itrappedmyself · 2 months
Text
Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess
shoutout to @that-random-fangirl
Masterpost
The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 
So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 
The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 
So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.
The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.
“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 
“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 
“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.
“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”
The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.
They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 
“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”
“ This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.
Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.
“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”
“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 
Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.
“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.
“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”
Now with part 3!
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luveline · 10 months
Text
𝐚 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
eddie fights to get his usually shy and moderately intoxicated girlfriend to bed when you insist on clinging to him at every turn. requested here. fem!reader, 2.5k.
cw intoxicated reader
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
You're holding onto Eddie's arm tight enough to leave little fingerprint bruises behind. He doesn't think he'd mind, and he doesn't try to slacken your grip as he helps you up the stairs into the trailer. 
"Do we have to be quiet?" you whisper. Or, attempt to whisper. 
"Nah, Wayne's working." He closes the door behind you and leans over your shoulder to put his car keys in the bowl on the sideboard. "Oh, hey." 
You've given up on clinging to his arm and have started cuddling his waist instead. Eddie feels his eyes go wide, peering down at you almost like he's worried you'll realise you're being bold and move away. You rub your cheek against his leather jacket and sigh. "I love your hugs," you say dreamily, words slurred but understandable.
This isn't news to him, but it's definitely nothing you've said aloud before. Eddie's your boyfriend, he knows you enjoy a warm hug, but he's your new-ish boyfriend, and you're one of the shyest people he's ever met. Half the time he kisses you and your cheeks catch fire. 
"Yeah?" he asks fondly. 
You break the hug quicker than he'd like and bend at the waist. Laughing unsurely, you attempt to untie your shoelaces, wobbling like a cardboard house in a hurricane. Eddie catches onto your shoulders to hold you up, but you can't last. 
You make a strange sound, indignation and admission at once, and put your hands behind you to sit down. You go down hard enough to make the kitchenette shake, trailer walls not especially durable. 
"Shit, are you okay?" he asks, kneeling down in front of you. 
You blink at him glassily. "Will you take my shoes off, please?" 
"Yeah," he says. He laughs and tries not to. "Yeah, I'll take your shoes off for you. Pass em over." 
You put one of your feet on top of his knees clumsily. Eddie unties the bunny knots you'd made earlier, neat and tidy, not wanting anyone to judge you for messy laces, you'd said. 
He slides your shoes off and gives your toes a squeeze. Sober you would blow a gasket, shuffling away from him with a flustered squeak, but drunk you must like it. You leave your foot on his thigh and offer him the other shoe. 
"Do you like my socks?" 
Eddie digs his nail into the second bunny knot. "I love them. Why, are they new?" 
Your socks are normal white crew socks with a black hem stripe, black toes, and black heels. You hum at his observation appreciatively, your hand straying to your stomach. "And my underwear, too." 
"How much did you have to drink while I was in the bathroom?" he asks. Eddie's seen you in your underwear, but it's still unlike you to allude to your skivvies while fully dressed. 
"Not much. Why?" 
"It's not like you to talk about underwear," he tells you, sliding off your shoe and giving your foot a squeeze just as he had the first time, thumb digging into the sole. 
You giggle and yank your legs up and away from him. "That tickles." 
"Sorry, sweetheart." 
"It's okay. I forgive you, duh." 
He laughs, thrilled to see you this adorable and this beamingly happy. He can make you smile like no one else, and of course you're not always shy when you're with him, but it takes time. Eddie wouldn't change you for anything, it's just a real nice thing to see you so proudly happy. 
And hopelessly drunk. You lay on the floor of your side for a moment, jeans riding up your calves as you curl in on yourself, your jacket falling off your shoulder. 
Eddie crawls to your side. He indulges himself, sliding his hand between your cheek and the floor to lift your head. You meet his eyes dozily, sparks of happiness to be seen in your dilated pupils and the apples of your cheeks as you smile at him. 
"Are you feeling okay?" he asks. 
"You–" you begin, not sure where you're ending, "I missed you." 
"You missed me?" You're loaded. "Don't worry about missing me, sweetheart, I'm right here. Can I ask you for something?" 
You nod hurriedly. "Of course you can," you breathe. 
"Will you help me get to bed?" 
You reach for his elbow, your hand coasting up the length of his arm to his shoulder. "Stay here," you say. You're pleading with him, eyebrows drawing together, fingers screwing up in the folds of his jacket. 
"You'll be comfier on my lumpy mattress than you are on the floor, trust me." 
"I'm tired," you say. 
"Come to bed with me," he says softly, mirroring your tone. 
"And we'll have a hug?" 
Holy fucking shit, Eddie's fucked. He thinks, I'm gonna marry this girl, cheeks aching with the effort it takes to keep his huge smile at bay as he helps you sit up. 
"I'll give you as many hugs as you want," he says, brokering a deal with you right there on the floor. 
You agree to his terms, holding your hands out to be pulled up. Eddie stands and pulls you, and you do your part, attempting to stand with a wobble as you go, but he's right there to catch you. Thus begins another round of clinging, your fingers braceleting his wrist, your hips on his. 
Eddie leads you down the hallway. It takes longer than it should, what with your face in his neck and your less than subtle sniffing. He smells better than you do, your shirt soaked with what could be craft beer but might just be a half a cup of cider, neither of which he pictures you drinking. 
"Who tipped their drink on?" he asks, pushing the bedroom door open with his elbow. 
"What?" you ask, lifting your head from his neck. He looks down at you briefly. 
"What happened? You have beer all down your shirt, babe. Did someone tip their drink on you?" 
"Robin did, she said to tell you it was Steve." You raise a hand to his cheek. It's cold, and it smells like your moisturiser. "But I don't keep secrets from you." 
He doesn't mean to melt under your touch. He has things he should be doing, depositing you in the bed, changing your shirt, tucking you in for the night with a glass of water and a bottle of Tylenol for your perusal in the morning, but it's a startling delight to have you stroking his cheek. You usually only do this when he's half asleep or you're very tired; hoping he'll forget, maybe, and forgetting your own inhibitions. 
"You don't?" he asks gently. 
Your fingertips slip from the soft part of his cheek up to his eyelashes. You don't touch them, breathing out the side of your mouth rather than in his face. Drunk but not enough to stop treating him with care. 
"No… except for last Friday when we went to the Hawk. I really did need to use the bathroom." 
Well, Eddie knew that. You're shy, that doesn't make you a good actress. "And now we have no secrets," he says, covering your hand on his cheek. 
Your eyes slip closed a touch. Eddie doesn't really believe himself, he's sure there's lots of stuff you don't tell him. He guesses when you need something to drink because you hate asking, and he can't work out whether you like hotdogs or if you're just humouring him when he makes them, but he thinks any secret worth having is one you've let him in on. 
He puts you on the end of the bed. 
"Can I help you get changed?" he asks, already turning for the wardrobe where he keeps your left behind pyjamas and miscellaneous clothes, washed and pressed and waiting for you the next time you come around. 
"You haven't asked if you can undress me in ages." 
He laughs like an idiot, scooping an oversized t-shirt and a pair of your pyjama pants into his arms. "Now, that's not true. I always ask, but half the time you're already getting there." He turns to you, finds you've disappeared into your shirt, elbow twisted into the bottom and arms slack. "Like that," he laughs. 
"Stuck," you mumble. 
He chucks your pyjamas down and slips his fingers under your shirt where it's folded at the top of your shoulders. "Lift your arms, sweetheart. There you go." 
He laughs again when he sees your rumpled hair and face, dropping your acidic smelling shirt on the floor. "There she is. Hey, gorgeous," Eddie teases, running the side of his hand down your cheek quickly. "Bra on or off?" 
"Can I have my shirt first, please?" you ask.
He loves you. Your shyness creeping back in despite his having seen it all before is endearing, and he wouldn't ever say no to you. "Of course you can. Do you need my help again?" 
"I think this part will be easier." 
You're right about that. You get your shirt on easily enough, unclipping your bra without help. Nor do you need help with your pants. 
Eddie strips off quickly, swapping jeans for plaid pants and his t-shirt for a ribbed undershirt. He stretches out day long aches and kicks aside your dirty clothes on his way to the light switch, flicking it off, only his lamp left on now. 
You look lovely. Makeup smudged, watching him move around his small room with your face propped heavily in your hand, a practically cherubic smile playing on your lips. 
He pulls back the sheets and grabs you by the waist, lifting you very slightly to encourage you up against the pillows. You look at him like he's a wonder, adoration softening each line of your features. Your lips part slightly, your eyebrows rise upward. 
He thinks it might be really special, to be looked at as you look at him. 
"Let me get you a glass of water," he says. 
Neither of you have managed to brush your teeth. Honestly, he doesn't think you can stand up any more to try. Water will have to do. 
"No!" you say, louder than you've likely ever spoken to him when he isn't tickling you. "You said we'd hug." 
"We will," he says, giving your hand a little shake where it clings to his. 
"Please, Eddie, I just want to cuddle with you," you confess, giving him the best case of the puppy dogs he's ever seen. 
Eddie thinks, Whatever, we'll just have to make sure we brush extra hard in the morning. He can't deny you any longer. He didn't stand a chance. 
He climbs over your legs and you tuck him in affectionately, ramming your forehead into his chest and throwing your arm around his waist with less care. You nuzzle in, a satisfied sigh leaving your lips as you get comfortable. 
"This is so nice," you praise, words sluggish, slurred even more than they were as fatigue weighs you down. 
"This is perfect," he agrees, easing as flat as he can onto his back, nothing for his arms to do now but wrap around you and hold you close. 
You sigh again. It's even happier than the first, your leg creeping up as you hook your knee over his hip. "I love you, Munson. Thanks for…" You yawn and rub your nose into his chest. "Thank you. I love you." 
"You told me twice," he says, lifting his head to give you a teeny tiny kiss on your temple. 
"It was true for both of the times," you mumble. 
Despite relaxing atop him, your arms are like a vice. He doesn't care, he really couldn't care less, 'cos if you weren't hugging him like this he'd be hugging you tighter. Eddie speaks against your skin tenderly, "I love you, too," he murmurs, sealing it with a punctuating kiss.
He rubs your shoulder, feels your arms give him one final squeeze. 
"Is now a bad time to mention I need the bathroom?" he asks. 
Your answering snore tickles his chest.
"Eddie." 
Eddie scrunches his face up. You look down at him, flustered, wondering if it would be better for you to run out on him and never see him again. He groans as he wakes, turning his head and distorting the stain of your lipgloss smudged the length of his neck. 
You nibble the inside of your lip. He doesn't seem particularly annoyed with you. But he is mostly asleep. 
"Eddie, how did we get home last night?" you ask, rubbing between your eyebrows. "You didn't drive, did you?" 
He'd had two beers, which wasn't too much for him to handle but is more than anyone should have if they want to drive themselves home. 
Eddie peels his eyes open. "Steve drove us."
"Oh. I'm sorry, I'm super embarrassed. I got kinda wasted, huh?" 
Eddie's hands slip under your shirt to wrap around your soft stomach. He pulls you in an attempt to make you lay down again. 
"You were very drunk," he agrees, yawning into your ribs. 
You put your hand on the other side of his head to hold yourself up. "Was I a handful?" you ask softly, brushing his bangs away from his eyes.
He smiles against your shirt. You feel the curve of his lips, goosebumps erupting underneath it. Shy, you gasp quietly and try to escape his hold, but he hugs you ever tighter, snuggling into your chest. 
"You were great. I missed sober you, though." 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah. Drunk you doesn't get goosebumps when I touch her." Smugness colours his voice, his hand rubbing up and down your naked back roughly to chase away your shivers. 
"I wasn't weird, was I?" you worry, more than alarmed by the gap in your memory. 
"You told me all about your new underwear," —you groan— "and how badly you needed to pee at the Hawk." 
You drop your head on to his, your foreheads touching, your hand curling around his neck. "Did I do anything vaguely in the land of acceptable behaviour?" you mumble in defeat.
"You told me you loved me. Multiple times. Once in your sleep." Eddie sounds delighted.
"That's unfontunately true," you grumble, not really meaning it. 
He laughs and gives you a firm tug. "Cuddle with me, babe." 
You cuddle him if only to hide your face from the world, face in his hair, hands under his back. Eddie draws a path of fondness up and down the dip of your back, laughing at each new crop of goosebumps as they rise. He's sweet enough to let you forget the mess you've made for at least a few stolen hours that morning. 
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed, please reblog if you have the time it makes a huge difference for me ♡
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