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lure-of-writing · 1 month

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Little Sister; Just Peachy

Summary: After sparring with Cassian you feel just peachy

Note: ya'll Im not going to lie the scene with Rhys in the living room got me in my feels 😭. But don't worry your little hearts we will absolutely will be seeing this from Ariel's point of view. As always I cannot wait to hear what you guys think!

(please read all in a days work , knock before you enter, and his little sister first!)

Word count: 2.9k

Warning: Mentions of having tiny frames but only in reference to being a child

Ever since your visit from the summer court something with both your brother and Azriel has been off. Rhys for the first time in your life has been avoiding you and suddenly you could never seem to catch Azriel at the right time. It was starting to annoy you to no end. “Well good morning to you too, sunshine.” Cassian looked over to where Nesta was stretching with the rest of the girls as if to ask her about your negative attitude. In return she just shrugged and welcomed you into the circle of stretches with everyone else. Today was all about fighting and since Cassian's counterpart was nowhere to be found it was up to you to help Cassian demonstrate the fighting techniques that had been practiced for a few weeks now. You were known to be a person who refrained from fighting and going into battle but that doesn’t mean that you weren’t capable of doing so. You were only one hundred years younger than your brother, it was safe to say that you had some experience with fighting.

The roof of the house of wind was quiet except for the occasional gust of wind along with Cassian's booming voice explaining how this match would go and the things then needed to pay attention to before each of them went toe to toe with either you or Cass. Finally after he was done giving instructions he turned and faced you. “You know I’m not going to go easy on you right.” scoffing your head tilts to the side “Yeah that's because your mate is over there giving you bedroom eyes and you want to impress her.” Once again his boisterous laugh filled the space of the open room giving it more warmth. Nothing more was said as you both got into fighting stances and prepared to walk away with some bruises.

The fight hadn't been going on for more than five minutes when you swore that you saw Azriel landing on the roof and watched as you and Cassian went back and forth throwing and dodging punches. Now you couldn’t say for sure because as soon as you took your eyes off your opponent to spare a glance where you thought Azriel was standing, Cassian's fist made contact with your cheek and subsequently you were laying on the matt looking into the sky completely dazed.

Cassian never meant to actually punch you. He knew exactly how you fight, he knows your tells and the next move that you would usually make but he didn’t know that you were going to turn your face at just the right moment and his powerful punch would connect with your face. Both you and Cassian knew the strength that he possessed and usually he would never fight you using that unlimited well of strength but the purpose of the match was to demonstrate how to use each part of your body to increase your strength when sparring.

Nesta was sitting on the ground right next to you with your head in her lap holding a cold hand on your sure to swell cheek and busted lip. From your point of view she was upside down. Even like this you thought she looked stunning. Gently she stroked your hair when telling you that you were going to be ok. Deep down you knew that you would in fact be ok but right now your head was ringing and your face hurt and you were pretty sure a tear was running down your face from the pain. Off to the side of you Cassain was shitting his pants. Not only had he hit the person who he views as a little sister, he hit you with his full force. He was grateful he did break any of your bones. But that wasn’t his only problem; he hit Rhysands little sister. Cassian was sure that he just signed his death certificate.

Rhysand was in his office with Azirel getting the report from his latest mission when he heard Cassian in his head. “Rhys?” The tone was a question as well as a grimace “Yes?” Rhys raised a finger to stop Azriel from continuing on. “Can you come up to the house of wind?” Sighing he looked at Azriel before rolling his eyes. “Can it wait? I'm currently in the middle of getting a report from Az.” a beat of silence passed in Rhys mind before the quiet voice of his brother came back in “It’s y/n”

Cassian could hear the beating of two sets of wings before he could see them. It didn't take a genius to know that they were flying at max speed. Cassian took a big breath and held it for a few seconds before blowing it out between thinly pressed lips. This would probably be the last time that he could breath normally for a while. Just as the two males touched down he glanced over to where his mate was still cradling your head and periodically removing her hand to look at the bruising and your split lip to see how bad it was getting.

Rhysand hadn’t even landed when his eyes locked on your body laying flat on the mat with Nesta holding your head. As soon as his feet touched the hard surface of the roof he was pouncing on Cassian with questions. “What the hell happened to her? Why is she laying on the mat with Nesta holding her face?” Cassian said nothing as he folded his high lord to where his sister lay. He knew as soon as Rhys saw your face he would be done for. Rhysand wouldn’t need any answers to his questions, he would know exactly what happened and who did it. Azriel fell in place with Cassian behind Rhys as they made their way to where you were lying and he glanced at his brother for a second with an eyebrow raised as if to ask what happened. Cassian just grimaced and shook his head. Azriel would also know what happened as soon as Nesta removed her hand from your face.

Cassian stayed back a few steps as Rhys bent down to get a closer look at you. Azriel was on the other side. “Nesta move your hand.” She didn’t do so, “Before I do you need to know that it was an accident and–” The tone of Rhysands words that came next left no room for discussion. “I said remove your hand.” The power in the high lord's voice raged over her like the waves of an ocean before a hurricane. She hated how the power made her bend to his will. Quietly she removed her hand as both males took in your face. The bruising has officially started to begin. All of your right cheek was painted with colors of red, purple and spots of dark red where the blood vessels broke. The bruising also danced along your cheekbone and around your eye, presumably from the impact, and down towards your jaw. Right where the bruising meets your lip is where it was split open and now had dried blood crusting along the open cut and down your chin.

After taking in your appearance Rhysand stood to his full high he turned around to look at the other male. “Cassian” his voice was cool and emotionless, the voice of a high lord. “Did you do this to my sister?” As much as it sounded like a question both males knew it was not. It was more like an interrogation.

As Nesta watched from afar as her mate and her brother-in-law were preparing to have at it she prodded in her sister's mind. “Feyre you need to come to the house of wind.” She paused for a moment as she listened to Cassian try to explain himself and what happened. “Now.” she added. Her attention was pulled from the fight that was sure to happen in a few moments with the jostling of your body beneath her hand. Looking down again she sees Azriel gently pull your body into his being as careful as possible as not to cause you any more pain. Nesta was sure that you were too out of it to feel more pain, as you didn’t even respond when she called out your name and your eyes were too unfocused and dazed to notice anything happening around you, still she thought the gesture was sweet.

“Where are you taking her?” Even though she wanted to go wherever Az was taking you she knew that she needed to be here when Rhys was done with her mate. To nurse him back to health. Or bring him back from the dead, whichever happened first. “She needs to be seen by Madja.” She nods her head in agreement as glances back over to her mate. She was sure the blood bath would start at any second. “I agree.” Finally after getting you into a position in Azirels arms that he deemed safe enough he shot off into the air and towards Madja’s clinic just as her sister flew in. Frantically Feyre looks at where her mate and her brother-in-law stood a few feet away brawling. “What the hell happened?” Nesta glanced down at her younger sister before returning her gaze to the fight. “Cassian accidentally punched y/n in the face and knocked her out.” Feyre felt her jaw drop all while turning to look at her older sister who just shrugged her shoulders in nonchalance.

When you woke up the first thing you noticed was the pounding headache ravaging your mind, the next thing you noticed was the excruciating pain in your face and jaw. Whatever happened to you must have been pretty bad for you to be feeling this way. Especially with fae healing. After cataloging the different types of pain and discomfort you were feeling you took in your surroundings. Plush big bed, the soothing smell of your brother's cologne, and paintings of Nyx, Feyre and your brother decorated the walls. You were in your brother's room. You must have been hurt pretty bad for you to wake up in a room that wasn’t your own. Closing your eyes again in hopes of soothing the pain inside your head you take a few deep breaths while you were at it.

Reluctantly you pushed the warm blankets off your body and made your way into the bathroom. The soft glow of faelights illuminated the bathroom and casted it into warmth. The setting sun on the horizon told you that you apparently had been out for most of the day, if not a day or two. Turning to look in the mirror you gasp at the sight in front of you. “Oh” a beat of silence “I look like shit.” gently you press a finger into the dark purple, blue and black bruise covering most of the right side of your face. You cringe back at the pain your prodding had induced. It took you a few seconds of staring at your own reflection to remember what had caused this but eventually you remembered.

You were sparring with Cassian in hand to hand combat and while the two of you were circling each other you could have swore you saw Azriel in the corner of your eye. Going to confirm it you turned your head to the right as Cassian's arm made a big and powerful swing and made contact with your face. After that you can’t remember anything. Giving it another once over you shrugged “At least he didn’t break my face.” you muttered to yourself before making your way out of the room and down to the kitchen or living room. You knew that you would only make it to one or the other before somebody was destined to stop you.

You got as far as the living room. Rhysand sat in a chair as he watched his wife and son play on the floor. The soft padding of your feet on the marble floors pulled him from his silent brooding. You watched from the entrance of the room and your brother practically shot up from his seat and in three quick strides stood in front of you. “ You're awake!” Even though you knew he meant it as a statement it felt more like a question. “Yeah?” You watched as your brother sighed in relief before gently pulling you into his arms. One arm around your back and the other stroking your hair. He made sure the unbruised part of your face rested on his chest. Returning the hug you arm your arms around the waist of your brother wrapping each hand around your forearms and your rest your complete weight against him. For a few seconds nothing was said as he gently rocked you back in front in the same spot.

Silently he pulls back to examine your face. You watch as his eyes take in the much darker welt on your face and the slowly closing fractured lip. He releases another sigh before once again pulling you back into him. “How are you feeling?” his tone in gentle and soft, knowing just how much your head probably hurts. Rhys had also been on the receiving end of Cassian's powerful strike, more times then he would like to admit. “My head feels like it's been cracked in two and my face feels like it might of been shattered but other than that I feel just peachy.” you felt the rumbling of your brother's chest before you heard the soft laughter. “I’m glad to see Cassian didn’t cause any brain damage.” Now it was your turn to laugh.

A peaceful quiet settled over the two of you and for a second you enjoyed it. Closing your eyes you listened to the steady heartbeat of your brother's heart, and for a second it reminded you of when you were a child. Any time you were scared or just in need of your brother's love you would seek him out and cling to him like your life depended on it. And without questioning he would simply wrap his arms around your tiny frame while you rested your head against his chest listening to the soothing sounds of his heartbeat until you fell asleep.

Those memories are some of the ones you hold closest to your heart and the current situation reminded you of when you were a child. Gently you knocked on the barely there shield of Rhys mind, he welcomes you in with open arms and there you show him all those precious memories this moment reminded you of. Some things are for certain and one of those things is sometimes you just need the love and comfort of your brother. Gently he squeezes your body closer into his own while still rocking you back and forth before placing part of his cheek and chin on top of your head. “Should we get you something to eat?” he all but whispers into the space above your head. Nodding your face against your chest the two of you pull away from each other after a few seconds. Rhysand keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders as he leads you into the kitchen. He may not be a great cook and usually avoids the kitchen like it had the plague but for his little sister he would do anything. Even if that meant potentially burning his house down.

It was a few days of living with your brother at his house before he thought you were ok enough to return back to the house of wind. That was only after Madja had even the ok that you would be good enough to survive the flight up there. You rolled your eyes behind his back as he talked with Madja. It was less than a five minute flight from his house to the top of the house of wind. If all else failed and you felt bad during the flight you would squeeze your eyes shut and pray you don’t throw up.

When you finally returned to your house you were surprised to see it empty. “Where is everyone?” you asked as your brother trailed behind you while entering the living room. “Nesta is with Feyre and Nyx shopping and Cass and Az are currently on a mission.” settling into the couch you glance over your shoulder at your very sweet but protective brother “Back to calling him Cass? That must mean you no longer feel like murdering him.” you watch as your brother makes himself comfortable on the couch across from you. “I’m still not happy with him but that doesn’t mean I hate him either.”

The room fills with silence yet again. “Why were you even sparring with him in the first place?” Furrowing your brows you look at him confused. “Uh because Azriel wasn’t there to do it? It was supposed to be the two of them but I guess something came up and no one else there has enough years of experience with the technique the Valkyries were learning so I stepped in to help.” It was now your brother's turn to furrow his eyebrows in confusion. “I didn’t give him anything to do so I don’t know why he wasn’t there.” Shrugging you look around before answering. “I mean he is a spymaster. I’m sure he has things that we don't get the privilege to know.”

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fire-lizard-ro · 5 months

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Woo~ Hope you're ready to read Mr. Sunday taking you…

Up the ass- Psych, mfs-

Bet you didn't expect that one from me, huh? I know I normally don't write bottom character, but... I felt like it? I want to see this man wrecked.

I'm writing for both bottom Sunday and top Sunday on this glorious- checks time moonlit (I haven't checked outside and idk what day it is today) night. A little birdy told me she wanted to see bottom Sunday first. Call yourself out if you wanna. 😂

CW: COCK JUMPSCARE- (jk), anal (I mean- come on you knew this), choking (+a little breath play y'all please be sure to make this distinction when talking about it ijsige-), edging, overstimulation, discussion of safe-wording, dom/sub stuff, mention of subspace, spanking, toys (there's an anal plug and cock ring), degradation (+praise), nipple play, harness???, bondage, collaring, slight public play, some subbing from Sunday and some power bottoming (but we'll be focusing on him subbing- it's only really mentioned), prone bone+cat position(that's what it's called, right???)+mating press, some namecalling (ex: praising - good boy, degrading - slut, etc., etc.), crying during sex (the good kind), marking, begging, dumbification, mention of being ashamed but liking it, belly bulge, slight cumflation/excessive cum, excessive lube, objectification(I think???), talk of his cock being useless (it's sex talk I swear reader doesn't mean it-), ever so slight gaping, cumming dry

Reader gender: Gender neutral, but you can envision what you want. Reader has a dick/strap and the cum can be uhhh- Lube? Is that what people put in squirting straps-

If I forgot to add anything to the CW or made any typos- Whoops. You can let me know if you wanna~

Personally, I think Sunday would be a switch. How he leans is up to you. But when he's topping, I see him being more prone to domming. Opposite can be said of when he's bottoming. More likely to sub, but does have his moments when he wants to take control again.

While I do love a good "turnabout is fair play", I think that considering Sunday's need to be in control (…the leaks told me so-), he needs a clean cut decision on what you'd be doing that night. If you've decided together that he'd be topping and domming, don't try to take over please- It'd probably fray his nerves and make him upset. This is because for him, I imagine that he'd need to mentally prepare himself and get in the mindset to sub. He loves giving up the control he holds onto so tightly, but he needs to remind himself that it's okay. That he can trust you and that you'll make him feel so, so good for his concession.

But by god is he a vision when he does slip into that submissive mindset.

It'd start with you two showering together after a long day of Sunday upholding the harmony of Penacony and dealing with any issues that arose to threaten that peace. It's both a way to wind down and to ease him into letting you take care of him and allowing him to slowly loosen his grasp on his control.

Soft touches and soothing words whispered in his ears between the sounds of water with gentle hands petting his wings has him melting into you. The stiff set of his shoulders, imperceptible to all but you, relaxes and the tension drains from his body along with the water as it swirls down the drain.

It is also now that you take out the plug he'd been wearing today while he was away from home. The night before, he'd just finished with you when you two took to the shower and you helped him clean up before stretching his pretty hole with lubed, insistent but gentle fingers. The plug went in nicely after that, the little jeweled heart of the plug's flared base in your color marking him as yours.

He hides behind his wings as you pull at the plug, the toy tugging at his rim that you trace with a playful finger. But of course you nose at them until he lets you in to kiss him soothingly, his wings then pressed to your cheeks to hide you both from the spray of the shower head and the rest of the world. It's just you two here and now. He would gasp a little as the plug slid out to the widest part of the toy. Thin and perfectly groomed eyebrows would furrow while you play with him a little. Push it back in carefully before slowly pulling it back to the wide part again a few times before finally bringing it out fully, rewarding him with "good boy" and "thank you for indulging me" and more kisses.

Once you both are finally in bed, that's when the fun begins.

You both go over the rules again. What to do if he ever wants to stop, reminding him that ultimately he is still in control because he controls if they stop or not. He's the efficient and straightforward type. Traffic light system along with three firm taps if he couldn't talk was enough for him. (Let it be known that when you started dating him, he was not at all aware of these things. I think he'd have been inexperienced to sex beyond vanilla beforehand.)

Tonight, you two were going to use a lot of implements (?). You laid them out, making sure that they were the same as the ones you discussed using prior (yes I think Sunday needs for you two to explicitly discuss beforehand and honestly I agree with him unless you like spontaneity) and going over what you'd do with them to recheck with him that he was okay with it. Consent is sexy, folks.

You then kiss him while fixing the collar on him, checking that it wasn't too tight. He liked using a collar when subbing because it helped him reach subspace and was something the two of you trained him to relax more with when subbing. Helps calm his constantly racing thoughts. The next step is the harness. It's a pretty pale blue-grey that matches his soft hair and is worn with his legs through it and over his hips. They're there for easier handling on your part. The fact that they accentuate his soft, shapely ass and strong thighs is a very welcome bonus. When you put it on for him, please make sure to kiss up his legs all the way to his hipbones while you pull up the harness you helped him step into. Nibble on said hipbones a bit and kiss his navel, near dangerously close to his neglected cock that twitched cutely at your proximity to it. Once that's done you can lube up his hard-on with one cursory tug in order to slip on the cock ring. He won't be getting any more than that for most of the night.

You then have him on him hands and knees so you can get him in position and bind him. Tonight would be a simple set of padded cuffs. You would push between his shoulder blades to guide him to press his chest to the bed, leaning down to kiss down his spine while pulling his hands gently pull his hands behind his back to put the cuffs on. Be sure to praise him for being a good boy, for doing so well for you as you prepared him for the night.

Once that's done, press one more kiss to his body. This time on the top curve of his soft ass before lubing him up some more. It's never bad to be safe about things and there's more than enough chance that he needs more as it dried throughout the day.

Tease him by purposefully tapping on his prostate softly while making sure he's stretched enough and wet with lube coating his inner walls that clenched around your skilled fingers.

Keep going until he finally asks you in a small voice to get on with it. "Hm? What was that?" "You heard me-" "Only good boys get what they want and good boys ask for what they want." You aren't going to make him beg for it (yet), but you'll still make him ask for it like the good, polite boy you know he is.

(Okay we're switching styles here, folks.)

"F-fine… Please fuck me," Sunday said, words trailing of into a mumble. You knew what he was saying, but you didn't really hear it. "What was that? Couldn't hear you, baby." "I-" he angled his head to glare back at you with traces of a pout tugging at his lips. He then turned again to avoid your eyes that took in his face, pressed to the bed and needy. "…please fuck me." "Was that so hard, pretty boy? Since you asked…" You slipped your fingers out slow, letting him feel the drag of them against his sensitive walls as he gave a shuddering sigh. Sunday had attempted to keep it under wraps, but it still slipped out.

Your chuckle caused him to flush more, a wing attempting to hide his face despite you being unable to see it from this spot behind him.

As you slicked up your cock, you watched his hole twitch and cock sway as he unconsciously sunk his hips back more as if to ask you for your thick length in his hungry, empty hole. "Aeons you have the prettiest ass, you know that?" You then finally line yourself up, the head of your dick pressing to the still tight but prepped hole's rim as you slide your hands down the man's sides to grasp his hips before sliding fingers into the straps of the harness that cradled his slim hips.

The angelic man beneath you held his breath in anticipation for a moment. "Breathe, baby." And then you were pushing in, slowly spearing open that wet warmth. He gasped and jolted, but your hand was quick to hold him down by the back of his neck while the other kept an iron grip on the harness to keep his hips steady. A whine escaped Sunday as he attempted to close his legs at the delicious sensation of your cock sliding deep into him- Up to the hilt. Once you bottomed out, he was already panting like he was in heat and his wings that had flared and flexed while you had been pushing inside drooped to rest on the bed.

Your cock was so big- So deep in him he swore he could feel it in the back of his throat, his own cock drooling messily onto previously clean sheets where it hung between his legs. It throbbed as he finally had a clear enough mind to remember the cock ring you'd fastened onto his needy dick. "Such a good slut for me, taking everything." He felt a bold of shame, yet it made his cheeks redden with more than shame. Arousal. As he felt mixed feelings of pleasure and shame swirling in his gut, he also then felt something else in there- Your cock grinding heavily, steadily into him with hips rubbing against his plush ass.

Sunday allowed himself to lean into the pleasure you provided, hips moving back into your slow but strong humps forward. Your cock was sliding over his prostate so nicely and it had him closing his eyes to focus in on it. The arch of his back deepened, emphasizing the lean musculature of his back and bringing out the little dimples above his ass as you leaned forward to put more your weight into your grinding. The pressure inside him and on his neck had his eyes fluttering along with his wings. A moan startled out of him when you proceeded to nibble on said wings, teeth gently nibbling along the fragile bone in the first bend of the feathery appendage. Your hand moved from its spot holding the back of Sunday's neck to press him face first into the bedding moved to instead wrap around his throat, turning him towards you so you could steal a sloppy kiss from him. It was filthy and wet, the sounds of it joining the wet squelch and the slight sound of skin on skin as you began to thrust. His whine was swallowed up by your mouth and when you pulled back he looked a bit dazed, uncomprehending eyes looking at the string of saliva between your lips and his that was promptly licked away by your sinful tongue.

"So good- Such a good boy, yeah? You're all mine aren't you?" He was deep enough in that he just nodded at he tried to rearrange his thoughts. That idea was de-railed when you thrust hard and spanked his ass with the hand not holding his throat, grip tightening enough to make him a bit lightheaded. "Words, harlot. Tell me how you're mine- How good I make you feel." The name made him feel deliciously ashamed of how he was really letting someone push him down and fuck him like a whore. But aeons did he love it. He managed to get out in between panting breaths a, "So good so good please- 'M all yours-" "That's a good cockslut. But just for me right?" "Just for you-"

You rewarded him by speeding up your thrusts, slowly ramping up how hard you fucked into his clenching heat that pushed out lube with every push in- You had made sure to use a lot so he would have to hear the obscene sound of your fucking him and dominating him. His moans became louder along with it, a whimper escaping him when your thrusts forced his hips to the bed. His once neglected cock now lay trapped between him and then bed as yours wrecked him and claimed him. He began babbling about how it felt, how it was like you were in his belly how it was too much not enough please please- Sunday was begging, now, with his drooling mouth, hole, and cock.

"I didn't know toys were supposed to speak- Especially when not spoken to." Your hand tightened around his neck again, this time pressing so it made it a bit harder for him to breathe. "Shhhh- Just be quiet and take it, pretty baby. I'll make you feel good. Make you forget all those troublesome thoughts. Don't you wanna be my dumb little slut? Only focus on taking my cock?" Yeah… he did. He wanted to let go of all the thoughts making his head hurt and give in, even if just for a little while. You'd taken care of him before. Now wasn't any different.

Even through the grip on his throat, he still let out little "ah- ah- ah-" sounds to the rhythm of your hips slapping into his ass, pushing your cock into his deepest parts. Yet you made it feel so good- It didn't hurt at all. All he could think about was how filthy he was and how pleasurable it was. Sunday must have tried to wheeze something out despite everything because you said, "Yeah? You like being dirty for me? A filthy slut for be behind closed doors while in public you act like such a proper leader? What would your dear people think of you if they knew you got fucked like a used prostitute- a mere toy?" You then let go of his throat to let him speak, the air rushing into his lungs making his head spin. "I- I love it! Love it so much please please lemme cum lemme cum on your cock-!"

Another spank to his ass had his hole tightening around you, a cry being startled out of him and tears beading at his lash line. "Good boy-" You then slowed a bit, causing him to whine despite how he had been held on edge for a while, now. Still wanting the bright hot pleasure despite the agony of being denied his release. "Color, baby?" "Mmmf- Green-" "Good boy-" A kiss was pressed to a wing before you harshly thrusted in and went back to pounding him within an inch of his life. Every thrust forced his body up and down the bed, cock an angry red and leaking profusely. Sunday buried his face into the pillow, tears staining them as they came faster. "Please- Let me cum, please! I'll do anything!" "Anything?"

Maybe that was a mistake.

One that had you yanking your dick out of his hole, the greedy thing clenching around nothing as if missing your cock in it. He whined pitifully, tears staining his face as he sobbed into the bedding. Fuck did he sound good. You uncuffed him to flip him over, tossing the things somewhere to the side of the bed. He was unable to keep up with the sudden changes and before he knew it, you were pressing his thighs to his chest in a mating press, cock sliding up and down his own teasingly. "Such a big cock and yet you don't even know how to use it. It's just a big, dumb, useless thing hanging between your legs. All you need is this slutty hole of yours, right?" Your thumb came down to rub at the slightly gaped hole, smearing the lube even more over his sloppy pucker that twitched at your touch.

He hid his face with his wings, flushed and crying as you belittled his cock. He was only good as an anal slut for you. But his wings flared open as he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder. You had sunk your teeth into the spot in reprimand and to mark your toy as yours. "What did I say about that? No hiding." He whimpered and nodded- A spank. "Words." "I won't hide anymore!" "Good toy."

Once you slid in, his mind went blank again. Though somewhere deep in the back of his mind, he noted- Oh. You were in his belly. There on the otherwise flat surface that scrunched up from his position, was the slight bulge of your cock in his guts. "Look at you- So pretty." You pressed on it, making him toss his head back with a pitchy moan, hips jerking under you and insides clenching wetly at the dick they were sucking on while his hands flew up to claw at your back desperately. As you leaned over him to lick into his mouth, you then reached one hand between you to slip off the cockring. "You wanted to cum- So cum." You immediately began a brutal pace that had him screaming as he finally was able to find his release, hurtling off that cliff and vision going white as he emptied his cum onto his stomach and yours, the pressure of having held it in so long and the angle of your mating press- The jerking of his hips from you shoving your deliciously big dick into his hungry little hole forcing his cum to splatter over his chest and on his neck and even wings. It was like a sinful angel was laying beneath you.

You slowed, then, and he let his breathing begin to even out. But it was an act of deception because you transferred his legs from your hold to over your shoulders and grabbed hold of his softened cock that laid on his cum covered belly to begin fucking him hard. He screamed and whimpered at the onslaught of now almost painful pleasure. "Wait no no no- Can't- Too much! Stop please I can't cum again-" "I know you can. You've done it before. Come on- Give me another one. Haven't even filled you up, yet."

He began crying even harder, tears blurring his vision as he panted and whimpered while his thoughts slipped away. Even as his mind went blank, his body still responded with his hips jerkily trying to meet your thrusts even as the twitched in overstimulation. Later he would glare at you with tears in his eyes and a pout while declaring that he would be in charge the next time he bottomed and would hold you down, instead, to take what he wanted. But for now, he could only let his hole be used as a warm, wet little cock sleeve. He choked on his drool as you bent him further so you could lean down to tongue his sensitive nipples, sucking bruises and hickeys into his chest and even right around his nipples- Going as far as to nibble on them.

It felt like hours of cumming and cumming and cumming and losing his mind as you fucked him and wrung out every drop of his spend and pleasure as you could along with the tears that still poured from his puffy eyes. It didn't help that he could feel the way you were filling him up with your own cum, having only orgasmed the second time he did. He was cumming dry when you finally slowed, kissing him gently and rubbing at his slightly distended belly that was full of your cum sloshing inside.

"Did so good for me, baby. I love you so much- Such a good boy for me." You helped him slowly come back down, helping to ground him as the high faded. You had slowly lowered his legs from your shoulders. This was why you always ended facing each other. So he could have that intimacy towards the end of seeing you and being able to kiss you. And so you could help him return to earth Penacony after you were done milking the cum and pleasure and pesky thoughts out of him.

Once he was back with you, you made sure to praise him more and kiss him all over his face before finally coming back to his lips to kiss him slow and deep. "Come on. Gotta drink water, birdie." You always made sure to help him up, let him lean against you as you began aftercare. "I love you," you would remind him at the end of it all. "I love you, too darling," he would always reply back, sealing it with a kiss.

Ah yes. Another round of: Roro writes entirely to much and with far too much detail. I made this one even longer and more detailed as well as included a bunch of writing in more story format rather than headcanon-ish form like I normally do. Because I'm back in business!!! (To write smut about hot characters I like-)

Hope you enjoyed~

-Roro, your friendly neighborhood degenerate

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danurso · 6 months

Text

NWN Challenge

*At a nice bar in Atlas*

Ruby: You’re still dealing with the fallout of that mess?

Blake: Of course. As the head of the white fang I can't just clean up a mess and ignore what caused it and who was affected by it…..*sigh* The last thing I want is people thinking we’re slipping back into what we used to be years back.

Yang: Good thing your pops is really good at de-escalating, well that and Weiss’ PR team.

Blake: Yeah. Where is her by the way? I wanted to thank her personally for all the help.

Ruby: She said she was coming, something came up during work.

Yang: Or someone. If Jaune went to visit she might be an hour or so late.

Blake: That. . . . . . probably isn't the case.

Yang: Why?

Blake: *nods* Because she doesn't look like she just had a good time.

The trio then turned to see a familiar heiress coming in, looking like she was about to murder someone.

Weiss: *sits down on the table*

Bartender: What will it be mi-

Weiss: Vodka. Pure. And make it a triple.

Yang: Yeesh. Someone got up on the wrong side of the bed today.

Ruby: What happened?

Blake: Who did you kill?

Weiss: He's not dead, the doctors said just broke a few bones.

R_BY: . . . . . . . .

Weiss: . . . .what?

Blake: . . . . .i was joking.

Weiss: Oh. . . .right. . . . .

Ruby: Wait, wait, you tried to kill someone!?

Weiss: I didn't! I just exaggerated a bit while dealing with a jerk.

Yang: What happened?

Weiss: . . . . .*sigh* I was venting to Winter about some private things about Jaune, as soon as she left an associate came in, he must've heard something about what we're talking, because as soon as we were done talking business he tried asking me out.

Yang: Doesn't everyone at the company know you just married?

Weiss: They do and he knew about it. But he insisted saying we could do something “fun” and that he could “Give me what i needed” since my husband wasn't doing so.

Ruby: Oh gods. . . . . .

Yang: Hah!

Blake: Like, I understand why that made you angry, but did you have to send the guy to the hospital?

Weiss: Not really, but i’ve been having a really stressful week and even after i said no multiple times, he kept pushing, and the moment he got too close i catapulted him out of the room with a glyph, though because of everything i miscalculated and sent him through a wall instead of the door.

Yang: *laughs* Please send me the video whenever you can! I wanna see that.

Ruby: Well, jerk aside, is everything okay? You sound like there's been stress even before that.

Bartender: Here miss. *Puts down her drink*

Weiss: Thanks.

Blake: Is everything okay at home? You said you were venting about Jaune, is everything okay between you two?

Weiss: No! The last three weeks been awful! HE has been awful!

Blake: Wait what?

Yang: Wow, That's a surprise.

Ruby: But why? What's wrong with Jaune?

Weiss: He’s been the worst! I keep having to deal with issues at the company! Cleaning the mess my father made! And then, after an awful day of work, what am I greeted with!?

Yang: A blown up house?

Blake: Another woman?

Ruby: Jaune wouldn't do that blake! Geez. . . . .Oh! Was it maybe a dead body?

Weiss: No! As soon as I come in he greets me with that stupid! Bright! And warm smile! He hugs me tight goes on about missing me soooo much! He covers me in kisses! Takes me in to show the warm bath he prepared for me! The house which is basically spotless and the dinner which was my favorite! Aaaarggh! Just thinking about it makes my blood boil! *Chugs the drink*

Ruby: . . . . . . . .

Yang: . . . . . . . .

Blake: . . . . . . . . . .that's it?

Weiss: Oh no. No no no, it gets worse. After dinner he brings me a whole cheesecake! Freshly made! And after we ate he took me to the living room and massaged every corner of my stressed body! I felt like I was melting! Oh gods the nerve of that man!!!

Yang: Wow, sounds like a nightmare.

Weiss: I know! Because it is!

Blake: *deadpan* Is it though?

Ruby: Err, Weiss? Are you sure there's a problem there? Because you make it sound like he's doing something bad but apparently he's been really sweet to you.

Weiss: I know! And it's unbearable!

Ruby: But why?

Weiss: BECAUSE IT'S NOVEMBER RUBY!!!

R_BY: Ohhhh. . . . .

Blake: He’s doing that dumb challenge too? I thought it was just Sun.

Ruby: *sigh* Nah, Oscar was doing it too.

Yang: Sounds like a headache. Lucky me and Arslan don't struggle with that stuff.

Blake: Yes, because she's not a guy, they tend to be incredibly stubborn about the stupidest things. Well, as stubborn as you can be with someone who knows all your weaknesses.

Ruby: Got him to give up?

Blake: Around a week in, would’ve been sooner if i wasn't busy with the fang. Oscar giving you trouble?

Ruby: Nope. He went for ten days straight, then he walked in on me coming out of the shower and he snapped. *Chuckles* I wasn't even trying to make him lose.

Weiss: *eyebrow twitching* Good to know I'm the only one suffering here.

Yang: Come on ice cream. You know that guy is basically addicted to you, if you give him a push in the right direction I'm pretty sure he’ll just crumble.

Weiss: And you think I haven't tried!? Skimpy swimsuits, Lingeries, Nudes throughout the day, dirty comments, cosplaying his favorite characters, offering to do the most questionable things! I used every last trick in the book and he STILL didn't cave in!

Yang: Oh, wow.

Blake: I knew he had a strong will but this is still surprising to hear.

Weiss: It's so frustrating! I get to come back home every day to the most wonderful husband in the world, who pampers and looks after me, doing everything I wish and making me the happiest woman in Remnant! And you tell me I can't ride him to oblivion after all that!? It's unfair!!! Utter Injustice!!! I wished I knew who came up with this challenge so I could strangle them until they're blue!!!

Yang: *chuckles* I can't tell if you're angrier at not getting laid for three weeks now or at him for not falling for your charms.

Weiss: BOTH!!!

Ruby: I mean, you said you tried everything but it doesn't sound like it.

Weiss: I did Ruby. I most certainly did! And wore basically anything you could imagine, I went as far as to wear things that, if images were leaked online, my life would be ruined and Blake would never talk to me again.

Yang: . . . . . . .you wore a-

Blake: *covers her mouth* Please don't, I’d rather our friendship still exist by the end of the night. For once in my life i do NOT wanna know.

Yang: *pushes her out* Wow. You really pulled all the stops.

Weiss: And it did nothing to him!!! *Depressed sigh*

Ruby: I mean, so far it sounds like all you did was dress up and act sexy to try and make him cave in.

Weiss: What else was I supposed to do!?

Ruby: Did you forget who you're married to? It's pretty easy to get him to bend and do what you want once you pin his weakness down.

Weiss: . . . . . .that sounded very wrong, especially being about my husband.

Ruby: What? I never abused that weakness mind you! He's my best friend, I could never!

Yang: Unless he has your favorite cookies.

Ruby: *pink* That's different!

Weiss: Spit it out already!

Ruby: *sigh* . . . . .fine. but he ever asks, you didn't learn this from me.

Weiss: *walks in* I’m home.

Jaune: *wearing pajamas* Hey, how was your night? *Hugs her* Everyone doing well?

Weiss: Yeah. *Kisses him* Everyone is doing well.

Jaune: I left some food for you in the microwave, wasn’t sure if you would eat out so i made something.

Weiss: It's fine, we got something to eat on the way back.

Jaune: I’ll pack it up for tomorrow then. *Walking to the kitchen* By the way, Whitley called. He said something about a guy you sent to the hospital. Is everything okay at work?

Weiss: Yeah, someone tried hitting on me earlier, and I accidentally used too much force to push him off when he tried to get too close.

Jaune: *storing the food* Ouch. Almost makes me feel bad for him. . . . .almost. *feels a pair of arms wrapping around his torso from behind.* . . . . . .Weiss?

Weiss: *inhale* . . . . . .*deep exhale*

Jaune: *serious* Weiss. . . . .that guy didn't hurt you, did he?

Weiss: *chuckles* Good to know my knight is still there to protect me if I ever need, I thought he ended up buried under my cute husband.

Jaune: Weiss-

Weiss: He did nothing, just a few sweet words which I already forgot. I just wanted to hug you.

Jaune: If you say so, then I believe you. What do you wanna do now?

Weiss: Bed. I’m tired, could you come with me though?

Jaune didn't answer, he only turned around and picked her up in his arms, making her chuckle in response, he took her to the bedroom and helped her out of her clothes and into her nightgown, and soon enough, they were both in bed cuddling.

Weiss: *Chuckling*

Jaune: What’s so funny?

Weiss: Nothing. I’m just happy.

Jaune: That's good to hear. You seemed a little stressed these last few days.

Weiss: Yeah. . . .but I'm fine now. In fact, I couldn't be happier.

Jaune: Really?

Weiss: Of course. *Hugs him closer* I’ve got a nice house, a good job, great friends and above all else *Looks up to him* the most wonderful husband in the world.

Jaune: *pink, scratching his cheek* Hehehe, I’m just doing what I can. It's not a big deal.

Weiss: It is for me. . . .for someone who grew up in a cold house, surrounded by people I couldn't trust, having someone that I can trust and love this much is everything.

Jaune: Weiss. . . . .

Weiss: You never ignore me, you always know when I'm not okay, you look after my every need, you go above and beyond to make me happy, and you know me even better than I do myself. I must've been a saint in a past life to be blessed with someone so wonderful as you are. I wanna stay like this and hold on to you for the rest of my life. *Angelic smile* Thank you for marrying me, my love.

Jaune: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Jaune: *naked on the bed and spooning her* God damnit. . . . .

Weiss: *sweaty and giggling*

Jaune: I can't believe I fell for that.

Weiss: Fell for what~? I was being honest, you know?

Jaune: I know! And that makes it even more of a dirty move!

Weiss: My heart bleeds for you.

Jaune: *groan* I was just a week away. I resisted everything you threw at me and this is how I lost?

Weiss: Yep. I thought there was no way out until a certain someone reminded me how weak you are to someone being genuinely emotional with you.

Jaune: It was Ruby wasn't it? Every time i have her favorite cookies she'll go on this emotional speech about how much it matters to her that i’m her best friend and all we went through, and when i realize i already gave her the cookies.

Weiss: I won't confirm nor deny anything.

Jaune: Ugh, figures.

Weiss: *turns to him* Oh please, you say it as if you didn't like it.

Jaune: Of course I did, I've been craving you for weeks.

Weiss: Good to hear, I felt the same.

Jaune: Just don't do that next year or I'm telling Blake about your secret costumes.

Weiss: You’re doing that again next year!?

Jaune: *chuckles* That's your main concern?

Weiss: Of course I am! These last three weeks have been hell!

Jaune: If that's the case. . . .*on top of her* Then let me take you to paradise.

Weiss: *pink* That wasn't enough for you?

Jaune: Nowhere near enough to make up for these three weeks. You gotta work Tomorrow?

Weiss: Not really, they have to fix the wall in my office so. . . . .

Jaune: Good. You won't have to make up an excuse then. Might need one for after tomorrow though.

Weiss: *red* . . . . . . .I’m in danger aren't i?

Jaune: The plan was to win the challenge and slowly ease back into routine. You tricked me into losing so now I’m giving you what you want, all of it.

Weiss: *redder* C-can we talk about this for a mome-AAHHHH~!?!?

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #jaune x weiss #rwby jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby weiss #rwby weiss schnee #rwby jaune x weiss #whiteknight #rwby white knight #white knight #rwby whiteknight #yang xiao long #ruby rose #rwby ruby rose #rwby yang xiao long #blake belladona #rwby blake belladonna

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ozzgin · 6 months

Note

Do you only write Hannibal lecter or do you also write for NBC Hannibal?

Yandere! Hannibal x Reader: The Grand Meal

Gather around for a short story in the spirit of Thanksgiving. You have been invited by Hannibal Lecter to a celebratory dinner, although unexpectedly barren of other guests. He will be entertaining you this evening, carefully describing each dish as he battles his own inner turmoil. (For extra immersion, I suggest listening to Bach's 'Sheep May Safely Graze')

Warning: Cannibalism and detailed gore. I'd advise against reading if you're squeamish.

[Horror Masterlist]

He politely aids you in removing your coat, folds it over his forearm, and steps aside, expectantly. You glance at him, somewhat confused.

"Your bag, if I may."

"Oh, I...I was planning to bring it with me. I have my phone in it and all the essentials." you stutter, unsure.

Uh huh. Your etiquette seems to be lacking in certain areas. Nothing that cannot be chiseled.

"You won't be needing it, I assure you." he extends his hand out, waiting.

You hesitantly place the dark leather Pochette into his fingers. Hannibal has always been rather particular when it comes to decorum. You wouldn't want to upset him, especially given his generous invite to his Thanksgiving celebration. He'd heard your complaint of being alone during the holidays and he encouraged you to join him instead.

As you hurry behind him down the spacious hallway, you quietly marvel at the expensive, tasteful paintings sporadically adorning the walls.

"I suspected they might be to your liking." He briefly peeks back at you with a faint smile on his lips.

The heavy wooden doors creak open and your nostrils are quickly overwhelmed by the tempting smell of intricate dishes. You narrow your eyes, taking in the flavors. Once you finally look ahead, you notice that the table, although neatly decorated, consists only of two seats that have been prepared for dining. Two opposing seats, causing the whole setup to seem of ridiculous length.

"Pardon my intrusion, but is anyone else attending?" You cannot contain your curiosity.

"Oh, no. Not really." Hannibal pulls your chair outwards before departing to his own designated place. "It's you and me. Does that bother you?"

"I suppose it's cozier this way." You brush it aside with a chuckle. Better than being alone, you tell yourself.

He nods in agreement before settling down. He takes a moment to examine the table, confirming that everything is indeed in its proper place. A final, satisfied incline of his head.

"Allow me to introduce today's dishes. I don't want to keep you waiting for too long." He says as he remembers your earlier little gesture of delight. "It's a little bit of a scattered theme, if I am to be honest with you. I've drawn my inspiration from varied cuisines."

"I can see. How exciting!" You swiftly scan over the diverse plates, enthusiastic and hungry.

"The main course is over there. Balsamic-glazed oven baked ribs. I recommend a drizzle of cranberry sauce to go with it."

As he points to the dish, he can almost hear the dry crack of the bone. Abruptly, he's been taken back to the previous night, to his humble slaughter room - the meat needs to be fresh after all. Shears cut through the ribs with little resistance. The blades go around the thoracic cavity, contouring the ribcage. Once a proper opening has been made, he firmly grasps each side of the ribcage and nonchalantly lifts the bone flap, resting it over the face.

Wait. He quickly digs through the skin and fat that had been shoved aside with the carcass, searching for the face of the victim. It's you. How delectable and surprising that you've wandered into such a recollection. Well, not quite a surprise that you've invaded his memories; from the very moment he met you he's been plagued by this indecent idea: How would you look on the dissecting table?

His musings are interrupted by the sizzle of the sparkling wine he's currently pouring in your glass. He finds himself back at the dining table, together with his favorite guest. You graciously thank him, and as he gazes over your features, he can't help but continue this game of imagination he's just spontaneously devised. Whoever had been carefully served for this occasion will be temporarily replaced during the theatrical retelling by you. And what a fine actor you'll be, even though you're not aware of it.

Alright, one must start from the beginning. He traces the edge of the autopsy table and inspects the drain just below your feet. He wouldn't want an incident. Would you be mortified if you'd learn your secretions and discharges leaked and clotted against the sieve? Don't worry, you'll be spared of such scenarios. He'd never willingly embarrass you like that. He softly presses the scalpel against your bare skin, going under each breast and stopping at the pubic bone. Now to trim the thick layers of fat sticking to the dermis. You're not making much of a mess, but then again it's a dream within his idle mind. A mischievous grin takes over his expression once he witnesses his clean work. The segments of skin detach smoothly, revealing your glistening, bloated organs.

He already went over the ribs. That part has been covered. What comes next? His eyes rest on the most obvious: your intestines. Which reminds him...

"This one is a Middle Eastern dish. Stuffed intestines. You gently cut the membrane, like this." He demonstrates on a separate plate. "Don't worry about seeing some additional blood. Naturally there are many capillaries irrigating the walls, so you might open them up in the process. It quickly seeps into the mixture and adds a bit of a stagnant flavor to it, but it's merely noticeable."

You swallow dryly.

Back to the original matters. He searches for his scissors and cuts along the attachment tissue smoothly. Once the bowels have been freed, he fondles them into his hands, cupping them into place, and hurries to the nearby counter. The entrails collapse and spread onto the marble surface, like mischievous tentacles. He languidly eyes them. Do organs resemble their owner? Absurd question, really. Do they reflect one's health - that much is indubitable. Yet he can't help feeling that if presented with an endless row of viscera, he could, without hesitation, point and state which ones are yours. It's a mysterious confidence whose source he cannot pinpoint. You've always captivated him. Just when he thinks he's had you like an open book, you slip and slither between his fingers. Fitting.

What is it about you that preoccupies his mind to such degree? He turns back to the table and scans the remaining options. Your intelligence? The tool drawer opens and his fingers linger over the saw and skull chisel. Perhaps. But there's more to it, really. His analytical, rational self craves for more than what it can grasp. And what it lacks, well...

He pinches the visceral fascia and lifts the translucent membrane, with the same delicacy of unveiling a young bride, and reveals your heart, cold and still. There it is, the answer to everything. A transect to the vena cava near the diaphragm and the organ has been separated from the rest of the body. An angel with clipped wings. Holding it like this, he can almost discern the faintest throb, the fibrous muscle pressing into his skin.

"And this?"

He purses his lips, taken aback by his own rudeness. Has he been zoning out in plain sight?

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

"The dish, I mean."

He follows the direction of your stretched out index. Ah.

"Heart stuffed with mushroom duxelle. Old English classic with a twist."

"You sound like a professional chef", you respond as you laugh. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Is there? He considers it. Right before his revelation was discontinued by your inquiry - absolutely not your fault, the ill manners were his - he was wondering if he possesses the capacity to love you. He definitely prefers you over all of the people he's encountered in his life, and your behavior and way of thinking never ceases to make him curious. Yet love is a conclusion he cannot asses with certainty.

He had hoped a vivisectionist approach would offer him concrete data, palpable reasoning, but his journey only reinforced that some concepts must be tested outside of pure introspection. Or, as one would describe it colloquially, he has to take the bull by its horns.

"By the way, what meat is this?" You have arranged yourself a platter with a little bit of everything, and just finished chewing a hearty bite. "Ox or something? It's very tender."

If Hannibal is to embark on his expedition of human feelings, he needs to reflect on his choices carefully. Or does he? Hmm. His methodical tactics are what caused this impasse in the first place.

One can afford to give in, every now and then. How will you react to his self indulgence? He rests his head on the back of his intertwined hands and stares at you with a determined look.

"Human."

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere #yandere x reader #tw cannibalism #tw body horror #horror x reader #slasher x reader

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meownotgood · 2 years

Text

married life / hayakawa aki

married life with house-husband aki.

pairing: hayakawa aki x gn!reader

genre: headcanons / fluff, just lots of domestic sweetness

note: this post is sfw, but this account contains nsfw content. please do not follow if you are a minor.

❥ You were the one who proposed first. It started as an off-handed remark: Hey, Aki, have you ever considered getting married? Without fully understanding what you were implying, he replies, I'm not sure, but I wouldn't mind being married to you. Needless to say, you popped the question not long after.

❥ You'll never forget the look on Aki's face when you asked him to marry you: his eyes were wide, and his face was flushed all the way to the tips of his ears. When he tried to speak, all that came out were incoherent stutters, but as he knelt down and hugged you, you heard him whisper, Yes. I'd love to.

❥ You consider yourself fortunate that your job has always allowed you to live comfortably, your salary easily enough for two people to live off of. For the first time in, well, ever, Aki doesn't have to be working himself to the bone all the time. He isn't used to this, and it took some adjusting to, but once he settled in his new peaceful lifestyle, he grew to really take a liking to it.

❥ Aki enjoys dwelling in something simpler, in a quiet sense of home. He finds comfort in the little things, in taking care of day-to-day tasks and the household chores. When you come home, a smile on your face once you see what he made for dinner, the stress leaving your shoulders when he tells you how he took care of everything — Don't worry about anything at all, you can relax now. When he's able to help you, to let his beloved feel at ease, it makes it all worth it.

❥ He's always been a chef at heart, so Aki enjoys making you dinner every single night. He asks you what you'd like to eat tonight before you leave for work, and he gives you a few suggestions if you aren't sure. He makes a mental note of all the ingredients he needs to pick up from the store. Then, he prepares dinner in earnest, expertly chopping vegetables, adding spices and having a taste to make sure it's perfect. He always plans it perfectly so that as soon as you come home, you'll have a delicious hot meal ready for you.

❥ Over the months and years you've spent together, Aki has memorized all of your preferences. He knows what flavors you like, and he remembers what you don't like; he always excludes those things from the recipe.

❥ You're no stranger to breakfast in bed, either; Aki will crawl out of bed as softly as possible, cooking quietly in the kitchen, careful to avoid stepping on the floorboards that creak. He'll brew some hot coffee, waking you up with a kiss to the forehead, a steaming mug and a plate of pancakes in his hands. Good morning. Did you have sweet dreams?

❥ When you arrive home from a long day of work, Aki takes your coat off your shoulders at the door, hanging it on the coat rack. He unites your shoes for you, then wraps his arms around you in a warm embrace, his hand tenderly holding the back of your head. The very first thing he says to you each and every time is, Welcome home, I missed you so much. How was work?

❥ And when he can tell that you've come home stressed and upset, he wastes no time, pulling you into a tight hug the second you've walked in the door. Bad day, huh? C'mere. Let me hold you.

❥ Aki makes you boxed lunches in the morning for you to take to eat at work. He makes sure each one is a balanced meal, with enough nutrients to get you through the day. There's always a hand-written note tucked inside, wishing you a good day at work, and reminding you of how much he loves you. Have a good day today. Hey, there's a festival going on downtown tonight, would you like to go? Let me know later. I love you. :)

❥ If you happen to forget your lunch on the counter, Aki will drive all the way to your work just to hand it to you. He pretends not to overhear when you start bragging to your co-workers about how much of an amazing husband he is, but he's smiling to himself on the entire drive home.

❥ Honestly, he'll never get used to you calling him your husband. It always makes his heart flutter and warmth rise to his cheeks. He still can't believe this is real, that he is married to the love of his life, and gets to spend the rest of his days peacefully beside them. After everything he's been through, he thinks he deserves it.

❥ He frequently admires his wedding ring, turning it over and rubbing his thumb along the smooth surface when he's reminded that it's still attached to his finger. Real, tangible proof of your marriage, proof that you belong to each other. Aki's heart skips a beat just looking at it. Sometimes, whilst you sleep, he'll grasp your hand and admire your own ring, too.

❥ You don't think you've done your own laundry since Aki moved in — He's always done it for you. He quickly learned what goes in all of your drawers, and how you like to organize your closet. When he washes your clothes, he seperates the whites from the darks, and he uses a special fabric softener that leaves them smelling divine. He folds all of your clothes neatly, and if you wish, he'll even pick out outfits for you, arranging everything so that you never have to worry about what you're going to wear in the morning.

❥ Aki makes sure every single chore is handled before you even come home. Dishes? Yep, he's already washed them, dried them, and put them away. Trash? He took it out ages ago. You don't have to stress about any of it.

❥ As he cleans the house, dusting every surface, he admires all of your knick-knacks, all of your belongings that have blended with his since you've moved in. He's extremely careful with your things, setting them back exactly where they were. A soft smile settles on his face when he gazes at the photo frames of you and him, and all of the pictures you've taken together.

❥ There's photos from your honeymoon (his arm is around you, you're kissing his cheek), and your wedding (he's crying like a baby at the altar, his hands clasped in yours). When you took visits to both his hometown and your own, you look lots of pictures of the scenery. And there's even shots from your various vacations, including his favorite picture of you that he's ever taken — You're at the beach, the waves washing over your toes, the sunset illuminating you perfectly. You look amazing, but honestly, Aki thinks you're stunning in every single one. He feels delighted to be reminded of those memories.

❥ Aki's favorite part of housework is tending to the garden. He waters the flower beds with a watering can, and then carefully tends to the soil of the plants. The best part is harvesting everything he's grown — tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, strawberries — and letting you have a taste. He'll chop up the cucumbers into slices for you, he'll make a cake out of the strawberries and feed you a slice. Is it good? Tell me what you want me to grow next year. I was thinking lettuce would be nice, I can make us some salads.

❥ He still has much to learn, but Aki managed to pick up sewing in the time while you're away at work; if you ever rip your clothing, or if the washing machine ever snags a button, he'll sew it back up for you, just the way it was.

❥ Although you tend to be busy, you and Aki have a designated date night where you always spend time with each other. Sometimes you go out to a fancy restaurant. Aki helps you pick out a glamorous outfit, does your hair for you, and stands behind you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as he clasps your necklace. Oh, you look so perfect, sweetheart. I can't believe I get to call you mine.

❥ He opens the car door for you when you arrive, and he allows you to hold his arm as you step out. When you sit down, he pushes in your seat for you. And of course, he orders for you, too. If there's something on the menu you said you might want to try but weren't sure if you'd like it, that's what he orders, and he's sure to give you a bite. If you enjoy it more than what you ordered, he'll swap your plates. And if you choose to order something out of your comfort zone, he orders your favorite, so that if you dislike your meal, he can just give you his. Aki spends more time helplessly staring at you than he does eating, anyways.

❥ But, if you're not feeling up to anything crazy, Aki is perfectly fine spending date night staying in. You'll cozy up on the couch, a blanket over your bodies as you watch whatever movie you've been dying to see. Aki pops homemade popcorn for the two of you. When you fall asleep on his shoulder, he turns off the television and carries you to bed in his arms.

❥ Aki wouldn't force you to, but if you wanted to take his last name, he'd be absolutely overjoyed. He would be honored to give you such an important part of himself. A smile tugs at the corners of his cheeks whenever he watches you sign paperwork with Hayakawa, and tears well in his eyes when the two of you visit the graves of his family, reminders that he isn't alone anymore, that you're his family now.

❥ Each night, you have a routine of telling Aki how your day went. Aki recounts everything he managed to get done today, and you tell him about anything exciting that happened, or rant to him about all of your stresses. You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and Aki rubs slow, soothing circles on your back.

❥ He listens intently to every detail, praising you for your accomplishments: You finished that big project you were telling me about last week, didn't you? You've been working so hard love, why don't we do something special tomorrow to celebrate? Or, comforting you when you've had a shitty day: I'm sorry, baby. I don't understand why your boss has to be such an ass sometimes. If there's anything I can do to help you out tomorrow, just tell me.

❥ And yes, Aki knows that you really need your sleep for the busy day ahead, but sometimes, he just can't help but keep you up. It's not his fault you're so perfect he can't stop staring. You certainly can't blame him for wanting to kiss every inch of your sleepy face over and over again, until there isn't a single place his lips haven't pressed to.

❥ If you can't fall asleep, Aki holds you close and hums you a lullaby. It's some dumb love song he heard on the radio that reminded him if you. He can't remember the lyrics, but he still remembers the melody.

❥ You quickly discovered that when he gets really comfy, drifting into a deep sleep, cuddled up beside you, Aki snores a little. Not very loudly, just a quiet, low hum each time he breathes. You're sure he doesn't know, and you'll never tell him. You find it absolutely adorable, and his gentle snores always help to lull you right to sleep.

❥ Before he met you, Aki would have terrible nightmares every time he slept. It was unavoidable — Nightmares about his family, about devils, reenactments of every memory he's ever tried to forget. But now, as he drifts off in your arms, he has nothing but good, pleasant dreams.

❥ Aki will try his best to make sure you are never late for work, offering his assistance in the morning in any way he can, but if you ever are late, it was probably because he didn't want to let you go. He grumbles in your ear when your alarm goes off, his arms around you pulling you closer to his warm body. You say something about needing to get ready, but he just holds you tighter, sleepily mumbling, Just five more minutes.

❥ Your morning routine has been carefully woven into his. Aki brushes his teeth beside you, so close his shoulder is nearly touching yours. As you brush your hair, he ties up his, and once he's done, he's wrapping his arms around your waist and peppering your shoulder with gentle kisses. When you're showering, he writes cute love messages on the fogged up mirror for you to see when you get out. He never forgets to give you a goodbye kiss before you leave for work.

❥ Aki is always paying careful attention to your health and his own, so it isn't often that either of you fall ill. He always reminds you to take your vitamins in the morning, and he makes sure the meals he prepares are as balanced as possible. But, in the unlikely case that you happen to get sick, Aki takes the best care of you.

❥ He can tell you're not feeling well when you wake up stuffy and exhausted. He presses the back of his hand to your forehead, and when he feels the heat radiating from your skin, he shuffles out of bed to grab the thermometer. You have a terrible fever. Stay home today, sweetheart. I'll call your boss for you.

❥ He makes you easy to digest meals, he brings a wet washcloth and lays it over your forehead. Don't even think about getting out of bed, because Aki will make certain you're getting plenty of rest. If you're bored, he has no problem sitting next to you and reading you a book until you fall into a peaceful slumber. He doesn't care if it's gross, you can sniffle and wipe your nose all over his t-shirt and he won't mind. He'll hold your hair for you and softly stroke your back if you have to throw up, and he'll toss your pile of used tissues while asking you if you need some more.

❥ You tell him to sleep on the couch that night so he won't catch your sickness, but he never listens; he sleeps with his arms around you without fail. You'll be alright, just rest up. I'm here if you need anything.

❥ If you come home from a particularly bad day, Aki will immediately run a warm bubble bath for you. I'll have the bath ready for you soon, darling. Do you need anything else? He lights some nice smelling incense and candles. Then, he helps you strip down and slip into the relaxing hot water. Before he leaves to toss your clothes in the washer, he asks if you want him to bring you anything to drink, or if you'd like a shoulder massage.

❥ It wouldn't be hard to convince him to come in the bath with you. He'll let you lean on his chest while he washes your hair, his fingers gently scrubbing your scalp until you feel like you could fall asleep right then and there. And of course, he dries you off afterwards, wrapping your body up in a warm towel he took straight out of the dryer.

❥ Even if it makes it more difficult, he always keeps an arm linked with yours while he does the dishes, or a hand intertwined with your own when he's preparing dinner. If he absolutely can't, he takes regular breaks just to pepper your face with kisses.

❥ Aki also takes breaks from cooking dinner just to slow dance with you in the kitchen when your favorite song comes on the radio. He doesn't have the best rhythm, and he's still trying to get the hang of it — He apologizes for stepping on your toes, you simply laugh and kiss his lips.

❥ When the weekend comes, you and Aki like to spend the night drinking at home, sitting on the balcony and watching the twinkling stars. Aki always seems to end up getting just a little too drunk, his face flushed out, his words slurred when he babbles every little thing that comes into his mind. You're so perfect, you know that? C'mere, I wanna kiss you.

❥ If you go out to drink instead, Aki is always the designated driver. He watches you carefully, making sure you don't drink too much, keeping his arm around you when the bar starts to get busy. He never has a lot to drink himself so that he can drive the both of you home safely.

❥ Aki has no problem driving you anywhere, really. He's probably the best driver you know, and he always asks you if your seatbelt is on before he even shifts the car out of park.

❥ If you ever bring up the idea of starting a family together, Aki immediately turns into a blushing mess. He isn't opposed, not at all, in fact. The idea makes him feel warm inside — Settling down with you, raising a family of his own, growing old together with the one he loves. He'd be there by your side for the whole thing, helping you paint the walls of your spare bedroom, or taking care of the kids while you're away at work. He'll finally quit smoking for good, like he's been meaning to do for a long while. You're both still a little too young to think about it now, he figures, but sometime in the future, he'd love to have that kind of life with you.

❥ Your parents love Aki, that's just a given. He's so polite, kind and sweet, and so willing to help at every turn. He feels truly elated whenever he gets the chance to impress them with his cooking. He'll always participate in your family traditions, no matter how odd or unfamiliar. Honestly, your parents are happy for you, and it makes his heart feel full to know they're glad to call him their son-in-law.

❥ Aki will kill all the bugs in the house if you're too scared of them. You don't have to fear spiders ever again when he's around, just call for him to come take care of it and he'll come running with the bug swatter.

❥ He never, ever forgets an important date. Aki already has the most lovely day planned out for the two of you on your anniversary months in advance, and he's up until 12 in the morning baking you a delicious cake the day before your birthday.

❥ If you prefer, Aki will be the one to schedule all of your doctor's appointments for you, and he has no problem always being the one to call if you're ordering take-out.

❥ He tries his hardest to understand all of your interests, and he diligently remembers even the smallest of details about yourself. Oh, when you were in grade school, you went on a trip to the aquarium that you never forgot? Aki takes you there on your days off, and he always recalls which exhibits are your absolute favorite. He asks you questions about your hobbies, and enjoys watching you partake in them. He'll even try to learn them if he can, so he can enjoy the things you love together alongside you.

❥ Aki tells you he loves you at every opportunity. I love you is the first thing you hear when you wake, and the last thing you hear before you fall asleep. At the altar, he said it as a promise, a declaration to be in love with you for the rest of his life. And he says it now, breathlessly, in between every kiss he places on your lips. I love you, more than anything. You're the one I want to be with for the rest of my life, I'm sure of it. I couldn't imagine living without you, my angel.

❥ Aki is forever grateful to wake up every morning by your side, your face being the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes. In many ways, he doesn't understand how he got so lucky, fortunate enough to live such a perfect life. If anything, he promises to never take it for granted, to love you and care for you until it's all over. You changed his life, and he wants to make sure every single day, you know you mean more to him than all of the stars in the glittering night sky. He's glad to call himself your husband, and he's even happier to be able to call you his.

#aki hayakawa x reader #aki x reader #aki hayakawa #aki hayakawa fluff #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader

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sickophantic · 4 months

Text

𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘢𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

pairing. stalker!leon / afab! reader

warnings. stalking, kidnapping, noncon, probably other stuff but idkk, read at your own risk

word count. 4,644

note. i like, haven't written anything for ummm half a year,, but i'm super excited about this fic!! started it almost two months ago and i finally finished it :33

Poor baby, haven’t been taking care of yourself for weeks; haven’t been eating or sleeping and barely going out for groceries, always staying inside except for work, leaving the house early in the morning and returning home at 2 a.m. Poor girl’s been coming back so late just for a shower, a quick, shitty dinner or a cup of tea, and after that straight to bed, day after day after day. And of course, Leon noticed what it was doing to you immediately: your sunken eyes from the late hours and the graveyard shifts, the dull skin from all your forgotten skincare, God, all those products collecting dust in your little bathroom, and the way your flesh was starting to cling to your bones, oh you poor thing. He couldn’t have that happen to his angel, absolutely not.

Sitting on the bed, watching you, something broke in him every time he saw you all teary eyed and tired, scrolling through your phone, looking through all your contacts. It’d happen almost nightly, after work and after a shower, all of you but your face hidden in the cold cover of the darkness, your quivering lips and your matted eyelashes limned by the blue light of your phone, your finger hovering over your friends’ numbers as you debated with yourself. He’d see the way your brow furrowed as you weighed the risk of opening up to people who should care about you, but fuck if it actually felt like it. So you’d just sigh, suck in a breath, and set your phone on the bed table and fumble in the darkness to find its charger, before shutting your eyes, preparing for next day’s hell.

He’d watch you breathe for a little while, his own eyes intent on his screen, before he’d shut the app and set his phone down. It was like a nightly routine at this point. He’d come home from the R.P.D., and every day, his heart would soften when he’d check on you, watch you through the cameras he installed and see how lonely and apathetic and pathetic you were. Poor baby had no one. Just made it even more obvious how much you needed him.

When you’d skipped dinner for the third time that week, he decided enough was enough. He didn’t want to, of course he didn’t, but he’d have to take drastic measures. Just, take you away for a little bit. Temporary, of course. Just until you got your things together. He was helping you. You’d see that. That’s why today, he slipped into your apartment with a copied key and stirred something special into your tea.

Sweet thing came home late, rubbing your bleary eyes and yawning, throwing your keys somewhere by the door, slipping your coat off and heading to the kitchen, wanting to microwave your day-old tea. Waited thirty seconds for the microwave to beep. He watched on his phone as you put creamer and sugar in your tea and downed it quickly. You always liked things sweet. You took a shower and stumbled into bed, all sluggish and soft, falling asleep almost immediately.

A few minutes later, the front door opened, letting in the dim, yellow light from the hallway and a pair of silent footsteps. He took his coat off, setting it gently on the rack, slipping his shoes off quietly before stealing into your room. His heart fluttered when he saw you, the only sound in the room your soft breathing and the only movement the light rises and falls of your chest.

He sat next to you on the bed, feeling the way the mattress dipped beneath him, and placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing small circles into your skin. He watched you for a while, resting his arm on your shoulder and gazing down at you, fingers playing with your hair or knuckles grazing across your face, before he smiled. He’d be good to you, real good. Treat you like a princess, just the way you deserved. No more stress, no more hard work. Just smile and look pretty. He wanted you so bad, fuck, even right now, but he promised himself to take it real soft, real slow, real sweet. Just for you, his perfect girl.

His heart almost stopped when he saw your eyes open, eyelashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. He’d been sitting on his bed, admiring your sleeping form, lightly rubbing small circles onto your cheeks with the backs of his knuckles, just like last night. Except, now you were really here, in his bed, with him. Made him want to kiss you and hold you and fuck you, all at once. Couldn’t do that yet, though. But God, he was so excited to see you, couldn’t stop himself from thinking about you, had to pull himself away from work cause he couldn’t get anything done, even made you breakfast in bed. But seeing your waking face not be that of immediate adoration, even though that’d be a little insane to ask for, broke his heart. Seeing your eyes widen and your brows furrow as your mind raced to explain where the hell you where and how this happened made his chest tighten with guilt. Poor baby. He’d make it better, make it all better, pinkie promise.

“Hi, hi.” He cooed, still caressing your cheek. Immediately, you flinched backwards, finally noticing him. But he kept going, keeping his voice quiet, low, like he was talking to a frightened, injured animal. “‘m Leon, okay? Don’t be afraid, just gonna take care of you, sweetheart.”

You opened your mouth to speak, to scream out, to cry for mercy, to beg to be let go, he couldn’t tell, but instead, with a small, cracked voice, you asked, “What?”

He moved his hand upwards, rubbing circles with the pad of his thumb on your temple. He saw the way your eyes were glossing over and the way your eyebrows scrunched and the way your lips trembled beneath him and he felt so terrible for doing this to you but at the same time you looked so fucking pretty he wanted to do it over and over again. Shit. He didn’t mean to think that way, that was so mean. Didn’t mean to, not at all. It was an accident, honest. He sucked in a breath, realizing he’d been visibly hesitating for a few seconds. Remembering what he was trying to do, he reached behind him, grabbing a fork and a plate, still a little warm, bringing a piece up to your mouth. “Just wanna take care of you, baby.” He spoke softly, trying to hide all his earlier thoughts. “It's just French toast. Nothing else in it.” He promised.

You grimaced. "No."

He opened his mouth to try to reason with you, explain that he just made it and there really was nothing in it and you needed to eat, but he could tell you were scared. He swallowed, setting the plate aside. He scooted a little closer on the bed and kept talking, all soft and sweet, “Haven’t been looking after yourself for the past month, have you?” He asked. “Just wanna help you, angel. Don’t need anything in return. No work, no chores, nothing, okay?” He murmured.

He watched your face for a few seconds, expression twisting from panic to confusion to disbelief. “What the fuck are you talking about?” You whispered, all hissy and teary eyed and confused and scared. “Oh my God, what, you can’t, fuck, what are you talking about?” You repeated, almost incoherent.

He just shushed you gently, placing a thumb to your lips. “Shhh. I told you. 'm just gonna take care of you.” He cooed.

You squirmed uncomfortably beneath him, trying to escape out from under him only to have his wrap land around your throat, pressing lightly enough to hurt only a little but enough to warn you to stop squirming. He hated squirming. He felt bad, really bad for threatening his poor girl, but your reaction was starting to be a little frustrating. He sighed. “C’mon, it’s not that bad. Just gonna keep you here for a little, unless you wanna stay more,” he smiled. “Get you back on your feet, sweetheart.”

For some reason, you suddenly stilled. He noticed, and he also noticed the way your entire expression grew dazed, but he just kept on talking, almost rambling, enjoying your silence and your stillness, kept murmuring sweet nothings to you, his perfect, perfect girl. He was telling you how much he loved you and how long he’d been waiting to take you home and just how God damn excited he was when you interrupted him.

“I’m gonna,” you stuttered. “‘m gonna throw up.”

The sounds of your dry heaving over the empty toilet were the only sounds in that bathroom, echoing, bouncing off the walls. Sick, pitiful noises. Leon leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, as you gripped the sides of the toilet like your life depended on it, knuckles turned white from the pressure and the rest of your appearance disheveled. He knew what you were thinking, knew that you were panicking about the fact you’d never met him before and who the hell was he and Jesus was he a psycho? And was he in love with you? Oh God, what was he saying about you not taking care of yourself? Was he watching you? Must’ve been watching you, or how else would he know? He saw you wretch even harder. Nothing came out. He grimaced.

“It’s not that bad, baby. Promise.” He said, approaching slowly. You were sobbing now, not even trying to vomit anymore. Not like you could, anyways. “C’mon,” he asked, tone dropping a little. Your chest rose and fell faster. Frightened little thing.

“Fuck,” you whispered, voice cracking, and he couldn’t tell if it was because he just kidnapped you or because nothing was coming up. You sat back from the toilet, crawling backwards into the corner farthest from Leon, mumbling, begging, crying something like go away go away please please please. You kept on repeating yourself, sometimes stopping to swallow and bringing a hand up to your chest or your throat because it hurt so bad or maybe you just couldn't breathe. He was trying to comfort you, let you know he wouldn’t hurt you and he loved you and it was okay and you were okay, but you just kept curling further in to yourself, crying now replacing the sounds of your dry heaving, face all red and eyes a little puffy and voice completely broken as you begged about something, but at this point you were just incoherent.

Leon stepped forward and you flinched back, and he let out a little sigh, leaning against the bathroom wall and staring at your poor, shivering form, brushing his hand through his hair, completely exasperated, and thinking What am I going to do with you?

- A few hours earlier, he was stirring coffee in the breakroom, absently glancing up at the television, when he recognized a familiar pair of tired eyes. Huh, he thought. He sipped his coffee as he watched your parents crying on live television, almost incoherent, recounting all the details he already knew about you. He felt a little pang in his heart, knowing that he took away these people's only child, only daughter, but it was for the best, wasn't it? He was taking such good care of you, and though you would never admit it, he could see the way you were slowly brightening up, the way life was returning to your drained body. He was doing a good thing. He was a good person.

Now, a little later, with keys jingling in his finger, he whistled softly, listening to the small click as the door unlocked and he slipped inside quietly. It’d been about two weeks since he’d… kidnapped? you. He wouldn’t say kidnapped, maybe taken instead. It’d been two weeks since he’d taken you. Sounds a little better. He pulled his shoes off by the door, debating whether or not to call out to you that he was home. It was dark already, so you were probably hiding, shivering under his blankets and clutching that little bear he’d bought you, as if that’d stop him from finding you. He sighed a little. This was taking longer than he thought it would. Would’ve thought you’d have at least warmed up to him by this point.

There were only two lights on, one above him and the other a little farther away by the dining table, leaving the rest of the room in a semi-darkness. He saw your half eaten bowl on the kitchen counter. He yawned, setting his coat on the rack and slipping his keys into his back pocket. He’d have to hide them later. Remembering an earlier text from Chris, he leaned against the wall, taking out his phone to check his messages. He watched the loading sign, watched it swirl and swirl and swirl around nothing. Finally loaded. He tapped on Chris’s icon and skimmed something about a work party. He yawned again. He’d deal with it tomorrow. He was slipping his phone into his other pocket when he heard your voice, soft and strangely deferent. “Leon?” you asked.

He looked up, a little surprised to see you standing there, your silhouette outlined by the light behind you. He was surprised to see you in one of his shirts, completely oversized on your frame. He realized it’d already been a few seconds, passing by with him just staring at you. It wasn’t a bad thing, though. You were just so pretty, how could he not? When he finally snapped himself out of his daze, he yawned again, “Yeah, baby?”, finding himself walking instinctively towards you.

You were fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes darted from him to the door, from him to the door. Can’t be asking to leave now, can you? Or maybe you were asking for something. He was about to prompt you to finish what you’d started when you finally spoke up.

“I felt…felt really lonely today.” You murmured, looking down at the floor, at your bare feet on the cold ground. Kicked at the ground a little. “Missed you. Didn’t um…” you trailed a little, eyes wandering slightly upwards. “Didn’t know what to do.”

Huh, he thought. His heart fluttered a little at your words, making his chest feel warm and light. He smiled at you. “That’s sweet. Missed you too, missed you so much.” He said. “Was thinking of you the whole day, angel.” He was standing right above you now.

For some reason, he thought he saw you grimace a little. But it was a momentary thing. He probably imagined it. You finally looked up at him, finally made eye contact for more than a split second. He could tell you wanted to say more, that what he said wasn't exactly what you hoped for. What you did want? He didn’t know.

Looking down at you, he stared in silent anticipation, in absolute adoration. His heart fluttered. Just as he lifted his hand up to brush away a stray hair on your cheek, you leaned into him, wrapping your arms around his torso and burying your face in the dip between his neck and shoulder. He huffed in surprise a little, holding you against him as you shivered.

"Really missed me, huh?" He laughed, rubbing circles against your back. He was so happy. So happy he could die.

He held you against him until you pulled away, looking up at him with your perfect doe eyes, asking him to come to bed with you. Nothing sexual, you just wanted someone near you. His heart jumped, and so did his dick, but he nodded, willing to ignore his needs for yours. He promised to join you soon, watching you pad off to his bedroom, needing to go finish some nightly chores. He headed to his office, brain so full of rushing, giddy thoughts that he didn't notice the unusual quietness when he walked or even the strange emptiness in his back pocket.

You were dragging your nails down his skin like some feral animal, nose red and cheeks flushed and eyelashes all wet and matted, tears freely flowing down from your pretty doe eyes. He grabbed you from behind, placing a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries as you sobbed and weakly writhed against him. He held you close to him, hand on your face and an arm wrapped around your waist. He was about to say something, to tell you just how disappointed, how pissed off he was, when his voice caught. A minute ago, maybe two, he'd found you at 3 a.m. in the morning, fucking with his front door and his keys, you ungrateful idiot, yet here he was now, tongue tied. He barely got a syllable out before he stopped himself, cursing you when he realized he was getting all breathy, his face flushing a little, his pants growing tighter. Fuck, was he getting off to this? That’s sick. He was sick. He was getting off to the idea, no, to the sight of you choking. Made him feel all warm and fluffy inside for all the wrong reasons. Actually, he was getting off to the idea of raping someone. Jesus, Leon. Fuck. He was getting off to the idea of raping you. Damn.

He held you against his chest, staggering backwards to lean against the wall for support. He hissed curses under his breath next to your ear, warning you to keep still. He couldn't stand squirming. Made things so much more difficult. It was hot though. God damn. Fuck. Fuck. He wanted to scream. Shout at you, maybe. He didn't know. Hearing your muffled pleas, something stirred within him, pent up and tired and angry, and for some sick reason, he didn't lift his palm from your mouth, instead wrapping his arm around your neck, pressing your windpipe in between his forearm and bicep, hissing in your ear, "Shut the fuck up."

He sucked in a breath, closing his eyes, ignoring your begging and yet at the same time reveling in it. He needed to think. Needed to think about what the fuck he was doing. He felt you hiccup against him, felt your warm tears drip onto his cold skin, and Jesus Christ his dick was harder than ever. He loosened his grip on your throat, hearing you gasping for breath, not even trying to beg him to stop. He slumped a little, guilt climbing up from the depths of his wretched soul. He was still breathing hard.

When did you get his keys? He heard you sobbing apologizes now. How the fuck did you manage to snatch them without him noticing? He was running through all his interactions with you recently, unable to pinpoint when, where, how, until he remembered what happened just a couple hours ago. Oh. Oh.

"Feeling sorry, angel? Or feeling guilty?" He murmured into your ear, fighting to keep his tone flat. He was irritated enough that he had to stumble out of bed at three in the fucking morning, pissed that when he was still rubbing the blurriness from his eyes he found you trying each of his keys and still somehow failing at unlocking a fucking door, but at the same time, he was hurt, betrayed that you had tried to leave him, even entertained the passing thought of escape.

"Sorry, sorry, 'm so, so sorry," you sobbed against him, breathing erratic and your entire body shaking. What a mess. You could barely stand.

"Really?" His voice dropped. "Sorry for waking me up at three in the fucking morning? Sorry for stealing my keys? Sorry for lying to me, for betraying me?" For some reason, he couldn't feel anger at your escape attempt. Not like he wasn't angry, though. No, he was angry, but not because of that. You lied to him. Said you missed him in that sweet voice, looked up to him with those big, innocent eyes, shivered against him and said you missed him, all just for some bigger plan. He was almost disgusted.

He heard your incoherent, pathetic pleas for mercy. He wasn't hearing you out, though. He grabbed you, tossing you over his shoulders and headed to his bedroom.

He kicked the door shut and threw you down onto the mattress, watching you cry and shiver and open your mouth to scream. Nothing would come out, though. He felt his hands fumble with his belt, with his jean's zipper. He dimmed the lights. Maybe he wouldn't feel as bad if he couldn't see your face. Maybe.

He found himself crawling on top of you, slipping his hands up your shirt. He wanted to be mad, wanted to be able to take out his anger on you, choke you and slap you and bruise you and bite you, mark you as his, fuck you so hard you wouldn't ever think of escaping again, but he couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to hurt you, even when you deserved it. At least not that way. He cursed you under his breath as his hands found your breasts, kneading and grabbing and even twisting your nipple between his thumb and index. You cried out, all pathetic, squirming beneath him. His heart softened, just a little.

"Shh, don't cry. Don't cry." He murmured against your ear. He heard your loud swallows, and looking at you, looking into your eyes, he saw your lovely, naïve face twisted into one of pure terror. Maybe even disgust. He felt so bad, but it wasn't his fault. He tried to be so good to you, treat you all soft and sweet, take it real slow, make it romantic, make it easy. But he was just a man. You committed the crime. It wasn't his fault. Not his fault. He heard himself groan a little, even as your hands pitifully shoved against his chest, even as you tearfully begged him to stop. He was just a man.

The bed creaked, and you cried, and his breathing just kept getting heavier and heavier. He tried to ignore the slight tightening of his throat, the just noticeable watering of his eyes. He couldn't hurt you. He couldn't. But he was, he was hurting you in the worst way possible. His heart broke as he watched you flinch, but his dick somehow hardened every time you sobbed, as you somehow tightened with every wince.

He gripped your hips to pull you up against him with each thrust, and at the same time tried to ignore the way you gripped the sheets, knuckles white, face frozen in pain and pleasure and fear. He had to stop himself from crying a little. You felt so wonderful, though, looked so pretty, even now. He leaned his forehead against yours, felt you rock beneath him. "Sorry, 'm so sorry," he murmured with each thrust, voice clouded by lust, apologetic even as he raped you. He still loved you. Really did. But still, he didn't stop, shutting his eyes instead as if that would make all his guilt disappear.

You'd been acting nicer for the past two weeks. Compliant, deferent, soft and malleable. Your voice was always low, sometimes to the point he'd have to ask you to repeat. You didn't say much anymore, not like you did before. There was a heaviness in your movement, like everything you did was a struggle. He'd notice it when you woke up, with the morning light streaming in through the window, his arm wrapped around you, holding you close to him, and you just wouldn't move. He'd brush his nose against your neck, murmuring soft Good morning's and How're you feeling?'s, but you just wouldn't move. You'd sit there like a corpse, cold and apathetic, yet your flesh was still so warm and your skin so soft.

He'd wonder about that while he brewed your morning tea, watching you slump against the dining room chairs, staring out the window, staring into stillness. He'd talk to you the whole time, trying so hard to coerce some sort of response other than your one word answers or your quiet hums, but nothing would come out. Your eyes were constantly glazed over, like an unending cloudy day. It wasn't all bad, though. All those jokes about women existing to be looked at, not to be heard? You were just that. He was just a man, you know.

He came home from work a few hours ago, whistling, keys jingling as he spun them on his fingers. Now, you were curled up together on the couch, your back to his chest, engulfed by the darkness of the early winter night like a heavy blanket, your form illuminated only by the blue light of the TV. He had some random local channel on. It didn't matter. Only you mattered.

After that incident, you stopped squirming in his arms, stopped trying to escape his grip or lose his touch. Instead, you just sat there like a pretty doll, just like you were meant to. You let your entire body weight slump against him, let your head rest in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. He pet your hair, brushing his fingers through each strand, gently detangling. He wrapped his arms around your torso to hold you close to him, and he hummed in contentment. "Missed you, baby." He watched your head slowly perk up to look at him, expression all dazed and dumb. So pretty. "What'd you do today?" he murmured quietly, looking into your glassy eyes and brushing away a stray hair.

You had a neutral expression on your face as you thought the question over. It took you a few seconds to respond. "Slept."

The TV, which he vaguely recognized to be playing a news channel, buzzed in the background. He laughed a little at your response. It made him so happy that you even spoke. "Really? Slept all day, but you still look so tired." He teased, almost commenting on the growing bags beneath your eyes but holding himself back. You just nodded in response, laying your head back down on his shoulders.

One hand rubbing soothing circles on your back and the other still playing with your hair, his mind started to drift. Not to anything in particular, though. He wondered what that secretary at work was writing down, what Chris and Wesker were talking about, just little, curious things. He felt your breathing slow, and he suddenly felt so warm inside, knowing that you could fall asleep against him. His breath right against your ear, he murmured, "Night, sweetheart," and looked up at the TV, noticing a missing person's report.

A random boy returned his gaze. The camera panned to shots of a forest, and a news reporter recounted all the details. Name? Jack Reed. Age? Seven years old. Last sighting? Three days ago, heading into the woods for some reason, somewhere. Leon didn't care. What he did care about, though, was that this meant that the world had already moved on. Everyone had stopped looking. Or at least, the public gaze had already shifted. Now, they were looking for someone new. And the week after that, someone else. And with each passing week, the world would forget about you, and that just left more for him. So he just kept on brushing his fingers through your hair, humming quietly to himself. You were his girl now, his perfect, perfect girl, and maybe he hadn't made it real soft, hadn't taken it real slow, maybe even the opposite, but at least now, he could make it real sweet.

#sicko's #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #stalker leon kennedy #kidnapper leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #writing ೃ⁀➷

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beskarandblasters · 13 days

Text

Ner Riduur (My Spouse)

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: The lyric “What if he’s written mine on my upper thigh” from the Taylor Swift song, Guilty as Sin? has not left me alone and I couldn’t stop picturing a Mandalorian wedding ceremony where Din tattoos his riduur 🥹

Summary: You marry Din on Mandalore and get his handwriting tattooed.

Word count: 1k

Warnings: canon divergent, set post season 3, reader is able-bodied but has no physical description, feelings of doubt/anxiety, minor description of pain, needles, made up customs for Mandalorian weddings, ceremonial tattooing, allusions to smut, Mando’a words and phrases (translations included after), no use of y/n

It’s a beautiful day on Mandalore. But it’s not just a regular day today. It’s your wedding day. A nervous pit’s been forming in your stomach since you landed here. You’re not nervous about marrying Din. You’ve never been more sure about anything in your life.

It’s the ceremony itself that’s making you nervous. Ever since Din informed you about a certain practice in Mandalorian culture, you haven’t been able to put it out of your mind. Today, he’s going to tattoo Ner Riduur (my spouse) on your upper thigh. At the same time, the rest of the clan watches. You’re worried about the pain. You’re worried about looking weak in front of the clan. You’re worried about… disappointing Din.

No, that’s stupid. He loves you. He’d never be disappointed in you.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

You spend the day getting ready until it’s some for the ceremony at sundown. Not that much preparation is needed. Mandalorian wedding ceremonies are rather simple. Bo-Katan agreed to watch Grogu overnight so you two can have some alone time. That’s what you’re looking forward to the most, spending time with him alone; a rare occurrence lately.

The Armorer, Bo-Kotan, and some of the other female Mandalorians escort you to The Great Forge. Your knees go weak beneath you, your palms grow sweaty, and your mind races with every thought possible.

Not cold feet. It would never be cold feet. But suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of your appearance, your mannerisms, the way you carry yourself. You’re about to be your most vulnerable self in front of a sea of warriors. It’s nerve-wracking. It’s an act of bravery.

But then it all makes sense when you see Din. Everything else turns to white noise around you. It’s tunnel vision on the man you’re about to spend the rest of your life with. It’s as natural as the force interconnecting everything in the galaxy, as sure as the suns rising and setting on Tatooine.

You join hands with him in front of the flames, quickly glancing at the crowd of Mandalorians watching you. Bo-Katan shoots you a reassuring smile and you can feel some of your nerves start to subside.

Din starts the vows, squeezing your hands before he speaks.

“Mhi solus tome. Mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an. Mhi ba'juri verde.” (We are one together. We are one when parted. We share all. We will raise warriors.)

Tears well up in your eyes as you repeat the vows back to him. And then the easy part is over just like that. It’s time for the tattoo.

He leads you behind the forge, where a cloth lay spread out for you. Beside it is a needle and a jar of pitch-black ink. The forge offers a sliver of privacy from the watching eyes and blank visors but not much. You shed your pants, leaving just your underwear as you lay on the cloth. Din tugs off his glove and your heart skips a beat at the sight of his hand palming your thigh.

“Are you ready, riduur?”

“Of course,” you smile, taking a deep breath and relaxing.

With focus and care, he dips the needle in the ink and picks a spot on your left leg, on your upper thigh and below your hip bone. You look at him the whole time and hold your breath as the needle makes contact with your skin. The pain isn’t as bad as you expected and now that you’re conquering your fear, you’re able to focus on the reality of the situation. Your riduur is tattooing you. The words Ner Riduur will be on your skin forever. Maker, does it make your heart soar.

It’s done sooner than you expected. You look down at the words, skin stinging and tears springing in your eyes again. But not from the pain. From the love and trust you have for him.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” (I love you) Din says softly.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” you whisper back.

He holds out his hand and helps you up. You put on your pants as he replaces his glove. Once you’re back in front of the forge, you’re met with a boisterous cheer from the clan. Two riduurs standing before their clan. It can’t get any better than this.

Once the festivities are over, you’re back at home with Din. Once the clan reclaimed Mandalore, they wasted no time building homes. It feels nice having a real place the two of you can call home. The helmet’s finally able to come off now that you’re alone. His eyes are glued to your tattoo the entire time, making sure to be extra gentle with it. But it doesn’t stop him from having his riduur in his marital bed that night.

Two bodies and souls intertwined together. Shared breaths and lingering touches, a safe haven found in each other’s arms. His eyes are wide with all of the love and admiration in the galaxy, pupils wide with only a small ring of warm brown showing. No detail is missed when it comes to pleasure. He takes his time with you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure his riduur gets everything she wants. It ends with you climaxing together harmoniously,

He grabs a bandage from the refresher and wraps it around your thigh, whispering, “I’m so proud of you.” He kisses your forehead before getting into bed with you. You fall asleep in one another’s arms, both of you fitting together like you were made for one another.

When the morning light seeps in through the window, you stir awake. Glancing down, your eyes land on your thigh. You smile to yourself before you roll over and look at Din. Maker, he looks so peaceful, lashes fanned out against his face and his chest rising and falling rhythmically. He’s softly snoring and it’s a sound you’re ready to hear every morning for the rest of your life. Everything you yearned for for so long is here, finally a reality you’re living in. This is where you were meant to be.

End note: May the fourth be with you! ✨

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedrostories #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader

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deepouterspacecandy · 2 months

Text

Ex Machina

I received so many requests for period sex with Abby. This is a sensitive topic, difficult to write with the intention of fitting a wide array of readers, as our experiences with our bodies are all so different. Anyhow, this is my interpretation of Abby and intimacy during your time of the month. I hope I did it justice. Thank you for reading. 18+ only.

From the moment you crawled out of bed, a stubborn headache has plagued you, a dull throb pulsating behind your eyes. Sunlight floods your apartment, drenching the lush green leaves of all your plants while simultaneously intensifying the pounding in your head.

You glance out into the stadium and spot Abby leading the new recruits through drills on the field below. All week they’ve been running late, and although she’s usually home by now, it seems like today will be another exception.

Perhaps it’s for the best since you’re teetering on the brink of a bad mood.

You realize you should eat the breakfast she’s prepared for you, but your stomach is churning. Exhaustion burdens every inch of your body, as if your bones themselves are weary, the brain fog and bloat leaving you miserable.

While some months are more challenging than others, your period is never a pleasant ordeal. Growing up, the focus was on survival rather than on understanding the intricacies of womanhood and how to navigate them. Now, the demands of being actively involved in the WLF have made it difficult for you to prioritize and manage your health. It doesn’t help that your superiors interpret any actions that undermine your performance or distract you from the objective as a sign of weakness.

In this arena, Abby is an absolute godsend. With her background as a trained medic, and raised by a phenomenal doctor, she is also a highly empathetic partner to you.

Next to your breakfast, Abby has thoughtfully prepared a thermos of ginger tea, its peppery aroma offering respite from your nausea as you drink it down.

Abby’s concern about how much you’ve been pushing yourself has reached a peak, and given how awful you feel, you’re starting to see her point.

This time around, it’s pure luck that your days off align perfectly with your desperate need for them. Counting your blessings, you drag yourself to the shower, hopeful that the hot water will alleviate some of your agony.

----------------------------------------

Abby strolls through the door in the late afternoon, and you immediately catch a whiff of citrus and jasmine as she places a vase of fresh flowers on your bedside table. They’re a gesture of peace to make up for being gone so long, but she’ll always find an excuse to bring you fresh flowers.

“I’m sorry it ran so late today,” she says, letting out an exasperated sigh as she kicks off her boots. “God, what a shitshow. Let’s run away together, yeah?”

“Ask me again in a few days,” you say.

While you dig through your shared drawers, she observes you swapping your pajamas for one of her roomiest shirts. The corners of her mouth lift in a devilish grin, giving her an air of playful wickedness.

“Still feeling rough?” she asks, plunking herself onto your bed.

“I think it’s worse this time around,” you explain, your hands cradling your sore stomach, finding comfort in the soft fabric against your skin. “Everything aches, and I’m so bloated. It really sucks.”

“Well, you look beautiful,” Abby says.

You go the extra mile to give her the most over-the-top eye roll you can manage. She’s a sweetheart, but her words can’t mask the overwhelming sense of detachment you feel from your body, intensifying your self-doubt.

“I’m serious,” she says, reaching out to pull you closer. “Have I ever lied to you?”

You can’t recall a time when she’s made you doubt her—the integrity of this woman is unwavering. Her straightforwardness knows no bounds, often leaving others taken aback. It is ultimately one of the traits you admire the most in her.

“I don’t feel very beautiful, I guess.”

Abby’s fingertips glide down the back of your thighs, tickling the sensitive skin behind your knees, before trailing back up to toy with the hem of your shirt. Her shirt, technically speaking.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks.

Her question carries a familiar undertone, one you’ve been meaning to address for a while now.

During Abby’s cycle, her sexual desire intensifies to an unprecedented level, and she’s insatiable.

One night, after your shift let out early, you walked in on her. The blonde wisps of hair framing her face were curled with sweat as she touched herself under a blanket on the couch. You recall vividly her delirious gaze, head tilted back on the plush armrest as she rode the waves of her pleasure, filling your apartment with the sweetest sounds.

It was in the early phases of your relationship, and you were so surprised when you entered the room that you hesitated—torn between quietly leaving to let her finish or offering to help her. Luckily, she decided on your behalf.

Instead of panicking and hurriedly covering up her deed, Abby continued without missing a beat—beckoning you to join her. It was one of the most sensual experiences of your life, and the memory of it still makes your heart race.

But for you, it’s different.

It’s a constant battle of messiness, discomfort, and frustration. When your hormones are fluctuating and you feel a spike of arousal, the thought of Abby seeing you in that state halts your excitement.

In the past, she mentioned how her lifestyle influences her body’s bleeding patterns. She attributes her active lifestyle and high stress levels to a lighter flow. But she also understands that certain conditions are beyond control for many women, affecting their relationship with their cycle and the way their body reacts to it.

“How the heck do you do it?” you ask, your fingers connecting with hers as you delicately flip her hands over to trace the deep lines etched on her palm. “You get so confident.”

Every day, without fail, you find yourself entranced by the beauty of her ethereal blue eyes as she seems to peer directly into your soul. There’s a special intimacy in truly knowing someone, beyond the flaws and all the fears.

She has a keen sense of what you’re grappling with, often before you can articulate it.

Her brow quirks as she rakes her teeth over her pouty bottom lip.

“Horny, you mean?” she smirks.

“Is that what it is for you?”

“Not always,” she explains, as her fingers move to brush against the front of your thighs, igniting a tingling warmth between them. “But I listen to what my body tells me. It’s how I heal.”

“What does your body tell you?” you ask.

“It depends,” she says, looking up at you through her soft lashes. “Sometimes it tells me to rest—other times, I need a little more than that. But I have bad days, too.”

You reflect on your relationship with your body and how Abby’s presence has transformed your self-perception over the years. She empowers you to find security in your own skin, even when you’re clawing the walls of your existence.

Even on the toughest days to practice self-love, she’s right there by your side, offering that extra boost to keep you going.

“It doesn’t gross you out, the thought of touching me when I’m like this?”

Abby lets out a surprised chuckle, gently placing her hands on your hips for a reassuring squeeze.

“Baby,” she says with an air of certainty. “There’s nothing you can do that would ever disgust me. This just reminds me how much of a badass you are. I’m a pretty big fan, if you haven’t noticed.”

You nod in acceptance as your fingers weave into her hair, gently tugging the long braid that rests on the nape of her neck. She fixes her busy gaze on you, brimming with an unmistakable and sincere affection, patiently awaiting your next move.

“It fucking hurts,” you say.

“Inside?” she asks.

“Everywhere,” you whisper.

Her lips meet the swollen part of your stomach as she leans forward, pressing kisses from your belly button to your hips. Her methodical nature shines through, ensuring she leaves no tender spot untouched.

When she glances up at you again, her eyes are heavy with hunger.

“Do you want me to make it better?”

It’s a lot to consider, and she watches you closely, anticipating your reaction as you try to process it all. If it bothers you, it will surely bother her, too—but can the reverse be true? If you have a pleasant experience, is it possible that Abby will also have a good time?

“Can we sleep on it?” you ask. “I’m just, you know—worried, I guess.”

Abby invites you to sit on her lap and when you oblige, she snuggles into the curve of your neck, sighing happily.

“Of course we can.”

Noticing your musing, she leans back to get a solid look at you. When your eyes meet, she crinkles her nose, a silent, impish signal she frequently uses to let you know she’s with you, even from across the room.

“What’s going on in that pretty head, huh?” she asks.

“I’m just glad you’re wearing dark pants right now,” you snort. “This cup thingy you got for me is working okay, though.”

“Well, thank God for that!” she huffs. “What would I ever do with bloodstains on my pants—can you imagine? Not this girl.”

“You’re on a roll today, aren’t you?”

Abby’s tongue darts out, lingering at the corner of her mouth until you dig your fingers into the ticklish spot at the small of her back, causing her to squirm with laughter. She quickly unravels under your ministrations, her voice transforming into something high and wild as she reprimands you through wheezing breaths.

“See, I warned you about teaching me how to lift weights!” you giggle, your grip on her wrists unforgiving as you pin her hands behind her. “Game over, Anderson.”

“You think so?” she chuckles breathlessly. “Hey—can I show you something?”

“You can try!”

Abby regains control of her hands and flips you onto your back with such ease it renders you utterly defenseless.

“Now what?” she asks.

She has you trapped, pressing your body and hands firmly against the mattress, careful to avoid your abdomen. It gives you an advantage, an edge to steal the upper hand, and with a sudden burst of energy, you buck into her, entangling your legs with hers in a fierce grapple. By the end of your wrestling match, your muscles burn from exertion, your focus shifting solely to the simmer of adrenaline working its way down your spine.

You leave behind any awareness of your physical state or appearance in favour of being in her arms, and she’s delighted to have you there.

Her rugged hands rest on your belly, rising and falling in sync with your breathing, and you’re weightless. The pain that had been radiating at your core all day has subsided, the niggling headache lifting from your temples as Abby works out the tension at the base of your skull with her fingertips.

Prominent veins pulse along her powerful arms in thick blue vines and as you trace them, her nostrils flare. The most innate manifestation of life and simply being alive underneath your touch.

“Let’s grab some dinner, yeah?” Abby pants, dropping a playful, squeaking kiss between your brows. “I’m starved. I need sustenance.”

“What else is new?” you tease. “You’re my God and my freaking machine.”

“Quit beating me up then,” she groans, a smile dancing on her lips. “If you build up my appetite, it’s only fair to replenish me. Do you want me to waste away or what?”

“Listen to you!”

She turns her face away, attempting to hide her jubilance.

“Bullying me—using up all my energy,” she says, jutting out her bottom lip. “Poor Abby is what they all say. You should hear them!”

“You literally started it,” you blurt. “I’m so done with you.”

Before you can roll off the bed, she quickly snatches you up and buries herself against your chest. Trying to suppress your triumph, a whirlwind of flutters spins between your ribs, like a miniature tornado poised to absorb everything in its path.

“Please don’t ever be done with me,” Abby murmurs. “Okay?”

Tendrils of soft hair spill out from her braid, and you can’t resist the urge to twist the golden threads around your finger, stroking her freckled shoulders with your other hand.

“Forever is a long time,” you murmur.

“It sure doesn’t feel like it,” she says, wrapping herself around you.

----------------------------------------

After months of waiting, the chow hall is finally serving your favourite meal, and you’re in a state of pure bliss as you savour it with your friends and comrades.

Manny is on his grind, recounting the funniest stories he can think of, causing uproarious laughter and taking harmless jabs at everyone at the table. Among her squad, Abby truly shines, earning admiration for her ability to treat everyone as equals, regardless of her superior position.

She is a leader in the field, but at home, she’s everyone’s trusted friend.

As you reminisce about a time before you knew her, the thought of living without the familiar scent of pine soap and the comforting feeling of her arms around you while you sleep becomes hazy and indistinct. The sensation of her breath against your neck as you wake up each morning is a treasured gift that you never want to lose sight of.

Under the table, you give Abby’s knee a gentle squeeze. She instinctively laces her fingers with yours, fully focused on Manny’s irrational fear of a girl storing her toothbrush in his apartment.

Only when your hand glides up her thigh does she split her focus, giving you a knowing sidelong glance.

Abby subtly adjusts herself to accommodate you, widening the space between her legs as the edges of her ear takes on the prettiest pink hue.

You toy with the button on her cargo pants, trailing your fingernail along the zipper, and despite her best efforts to focus on the surrounding conversations, she’s fading fast. Absentmindedly nibbling at the dry patches on her lip, she blinks with a slightly delayed rhythm, absorbed by your attention.

With each seductive surge, the intensity of your pain subsides, smoothing out its sharp edges.

“It’s your fault,” Manny explains, addressing Abby directly, the tines of his fork slicing the air. “I never had these problems when you were my roommate.”

Foreseeing a mental showdown, you slowly retreat to your lap, but Abby immediately tugs your hand back.

You know precisely what is going through her mind.

“Don’t blame your mommy issues on me, Alvarez,” Abby retorts. “Shit or get off the pot.”

Your fingers scratch a torturous path across her hard thigh, only stopping to pay special attention to the rigid seam of her pants before traveling back to her knee. Abby clears her throat and straightens up, indicating that she’s about three seconds away from a polite excuse to refuse dessert and propose an early night.

You beat her to the punch by deftly gathering your trays, offering a nod of farewell to everyone in the room and letting your girl know it’s time for her to take you to bed.

----------------------------------------

Rain trickles in silver ribbons along the panoramic windows of your apartment, flashes of lightning illuminating the night sky as the occasional rumble of thunder punctuates a mounting storm. Abby places candles on every tabletop and surface, creating a dim, flickering glow in anticipation of a possible power outage.

The crackling hiss of each match strike pulls you deeper into a state of relaxation.

She abandons the matchbox and, in one fluid motion, lifts her sweater up and over her head, tossing it onto the rocking chair in your reading nook.

Her back is a tapestry of sculpted muscles and you’re eager to feel them twitch and flex. It’s time to put an end to the silence that has been lingering between you since dinner.

“Abby?”

She hums, spinning around to face you, her expression lifting with an affectionate smile.

“What’s up?” she asks.

“I trust you.”

All traces of her tough exterior vanish as her determined strides carry her across the room, closing the distance between you. It’s a compliment that you know she will hold in high regard.

“I’m glad,” she whispers. “You’re always safe with me, okay?”

Abby’s eyes are a fragment of the ocean, a world of mystery and depth pulling you in. Her touch is gentle as she cups your jaw, delicately tilting your chin toward hers.

“I mean it,” she says.

The moment your lips meet, the taste of her intoxicates you, the room a dizzy blur of raindrops and candlelight. Her eager hands greedily explore the curves of your body, and the languid pace is torment. Taking her lower lip between your teeth, you suck her gently into your mouth, rocking against her for relief.

“Please let me take care of you,” Abby says.

You guide her hand between your legs, giving her the freedom to ease your pain. The surface is so slick that her fingers glide over your smooth folds, circling your swollen clit until you’re whimpering against her throat.

“Fuck, you feel good,” she whines. “You’re so wet, I can’t even take it.”

“Keep this up and I won’t last long,” you giggle.

Abby lifts you and sets you down on the bed, and that’s when you see it for the first time. Faint streaks of you staining her fingertips.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you say.

“Look at me,” Abby murmurs, trailing kisses up your thigh. “You are so incredibly sexy like this.”

#abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian

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lunarmoves · 4 months

Text

mentions: some predator/prey dynamics dont look at me

“is there a reason why you're following me around?” you asked in amusement as you paused in your trek and glanced up from your phone. with the daycare closed for the night, you had to take inventory to prepare for tomorrow—a simple enough task. only, it was made ever more complicated by a certain lanky shadow that trailed closely after you.

sun's rays spun slightly around his head as he regarded you with upturned eyes and clasped hands. he swayed back and forth on his heels. “none in particular! why?"

“you just seem more energetic than usual.” you shrugged as you fully turned around to eye him. indeed, he was fidgeting more than you'd expected after a long day of dealing with children—a pent up sort of terseness to his limbs.

sun let out a dramatic sigh and held a hand up to his forehead. “you've caught me, dear friend! it seems i simply have not run myself down to the bone today! whatever shall i do to get rid of all this pent up power?” to demonstrate, he did a few cartwheels around you before ending with a one-handed handstand. his free arm waved at you, rays spinning around fast enough that you could feel a small breeze from them.

you huffed and gave him a small push on his chassis. with a little exclamation, he toppled backwards into a flip and righted himself with a jump. “first of all," you said shortly, "you don't have bones.”

sun made a sound like a pssht. “ah, semantics! down to my endoskeleton! is that better?” he skipped around you in that cartoon-like way of his. you followed him, slowly spinning yourself around in a circle to keep him in sight.

“better." you nodded in approval. "secondly—i dunno. i have some time before i need to clock out. we could do something to help you get rid of those extra jitters?”

sun stopped next to you and spun his upper body in a circle, then released a loud hMmm. he lingered close, a hand up to the bottom of his face plate as though in thought. "we could, you're right! let's seeee..." he trailed off, tapping a finger against his face with a clink clink clink as he pondered. "how aboouuttt... tag!" quick as a blink, his hand darted out to tap your shoulder before he skipped off deeper into the daycare with a giddy giggle.

you stared off at him slack-jawed for a moment, then processed his actions as he got further and further away. "hey! at least give a little warning?!"

"where's the fun in that?" sun's voice called out to you from beside one of the large jungle gyms. he had stopped his skipping and waved at you eagerly—impishly. "i don't see you chasing, friend!"

"oh you little—" you growled playfully under your breath, then took off in a jog after him. he watched you encroach with a mischievous grin, and just when you were close enough to reach out and touch his arm, he spun himself fluidly away and skipped off elsewhere.

"gotta be faster than that!" he called cheekily. you huffed and picked up the pace. he peeked over his shoulder at you and squawked out something as he dodged a swipe from your hand. "wOAhahah! close one!"

"suunn," you called out warningly, a grin splayed on your face despite your tone. "get back here!" he only laughed and tossed you a playful wink.

you knew you had no way of actually managing to catch sun, being that he was a robot and you were, well, a human. but it was still fun attempting to. he didn't run, exactly. he just skipped and frolicked about. it was almost annoying how you couldn't catch up. he'd slow down, then speed up right as you were about to reach him. sometimes he'd jump up onto the jungle gyms to fling himself over your head or crawl out of your reach in a manner reminiscent of moon. you hoped it was helping him more than it was helping you—you certainly were starting to feel sweaty with all the running around. eugh.

finally, finally, after what felt like ages of sprinting after him, you managed to tag him with a clever feint to the side.

"tag!" you exclaimed in triumph, then abruptly turned on your heel and bolted away. you didn't bother to linger and see his expression—you knew he'd be able to catch you rather easily. might as well at least try to evade him.

"good job, my dear!" he called after you with a tinge of pride. "here i come!"

you could feel yourself starting to get tired as you ran around one of the larger jungle gyms. but the adrenaline of having sun skipping after you kept you going. you grinned as you glanced behind you to see him merrily making his way over. not too fast, not too slow. just enough that you could slow down a bit and catch your breath.

"are you still feeling pent up?" you yelled over your shoulder as you ran past the ball pit. when he didn't respond, you dared a look behind you. he wasn't there. it made you blink and slow down slightly. "...sun?"

"eyes up front!" a voice hollered and you automatically yelped as you jerked your head back around and just barely dodged his hand. you caught a brief glimmer of white from his eyes before you sprinted off to the side. "ooh! close!" there was something tinging his voice that you couldn't quite make out.

"gotta be faster than that!" you echoed his words from earlier. perspiration was starting to mat your hairline and run down the side of your face. you huffed and looked behind you to see if you could pause for a bit, only to flinch at the sight of sun picking up the pace to run faster after you. something sharp gleamed in the curve of his smile, but you weren't able to get a proper look as you practically flung yourself away.

"frieendd," sun suddenly crooned out in a way that made your stomach drop. a chill ran down your spine. "come heere."

"no thanks!" you panted out and made a sharp turn around a slide. you swallowed heavily, a dryness coating your throat. a stitch was starting to form in your side. "hey, can we take a break? i feel like i'm dying."

no response. you slowed to a stop and looked around you. your heart thrummed a steady beat in your ears, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you attempted to gain control of your breathing. you spun slowly in a circle, trying to see where sun was. nothing. you peered out behind you at the rest of the daycare, but you didn't see a flash of yellow anywhere.

...he could be very quiet when he wanted to. you didn't think you heard a single footstep nor jingle of his bells the entire time you were playing with him. you wiped at your forehead and tried to calm yourself down. the daycare's theme song played merrily through the speakers surrounding the area. it almost made you uneasy.

trepidation lined your figure. you had the urge to call out to him again, but for some reason, you hesitated. there was an odd feeling to the air that hadn't been there before. you swallowed again and decided that maybe— maybe you should... make your way over to the security desk. just in case.

as soon as you took a single step in the direction of it, there was a prickle of the hairs on your nape standing erect. you had just enough time to look above you at one of the jungle gyms before you saw a sharp flash of grey. a shriek left your lips as you ducked down with your hands covering your head, something lunging over your figure and skidding a distance away.

for a moment, you stayed curled up in a crouch, hands trembling over your head as you gazed distantly at the floor. a few strands of your hair drifted gently down, landing lightly on the blue play mat you stood on. you blinked at them blankly. then you looked up.

sun was hunched forward with his hands bracing against the floor, back towards you. there was a twitchiness to his limbs, his head jerking minutely left then right. his torso shifted and moved up and down like he was breathing heavily.

you slowly, very slowly, raised yourself to stand. it felt like you were standing on the edge of a precipice—unsteady and uneasy. sun paused, rays twitching slightly. then he turned around, flexing sharp fingers.

your breath got caught in your throat.

"hello my dear." sun grinned at you with teeth that were sharpened like a razor. pinprick white eyes were zeroed in on you on a backdrop of grey. you took a small step back. "you should run now."

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wileys-russo · 8 months

Note

mearps blurb request (she’s so underrated it’s criminal): mearps is super busy and focused (she gives off such boss wife energy c’mon) with football stuff, and comes home to her gf who has been super domestic and made their place really warm and cosy, cooked her favourite food, and just generally tried to look after her (I always say I’m super independent but for a hot footballer? it’d be wifey energy in an instant)

domestic bliss II m.earps

mary exhaled deeply as she parked up in the driveway after an excruciatingly long day.

she'd been up at the crack of dawn for fitness testing for the impending season, trained this morning and this afternoon with the team, met with her MAE27 team for a business lunch about the next upcoming launch inbetween on her break.

then had yet another business meeting with nike after her second training session about stocking her national keepers jersey which was nothing short of a draining back and forth argument, and had just wrapped up a zoom call with her agent which had gone an hour and a half overtime.

mary was forever grateful for her career and more than knew the privilege she held in her current position. but days like today she just felt pulled in a hundred directions, talked at rather than to, acting more like a robot than a human just to get by.

she had left the house not long after five this morning and was now returning at half past seven at night, her bones ached and her head was absolutely throbbing. mary could almost feel her heartbeat in her eyes and had seriously considered pulling over with how bleary her vision was driving home.

on top of that mary knew she had an insane list of life admin awaiting her once she stepped through her front door. she had a sink full of dishes to be washed, baskets of dirty laundry to be done as well as a mountain of clean clothes to be put away.

her bedroom looked like a bomb went off, clothes were scattered left right and centre from her early morning toss through her wardorbe to try and find her training gear. which of course she'd eventually sought out in her dirty washing basket, having to drown herself in perfume just to get by today.

the entire house needed vacuuming and tidying and her bathroom was crying out in desperation for a deep clean. mary having been away for the weekend to see her family had meant that again her two days off had been consumed by other people needing her, not what she needed.

she had dinner to be cooked and she needed to spend some time doing work to prepare for the upcoming week which was destined to be just as busy as today if not worse.

and to add yet another thorn in her side, you, her refuge and respite from the insanity of everything going on, were away for the entire week on a business trip.

mary was endlessly proud of you and especially for the promotion you'd recently earned, despite the added tasks and hours it meant.

still she couldn't stop herself from selfishly wish you were here, wanting to just melt into you as you whispered sweet nothings in her ear, showering her in the warmth and love that you forever and always indulged her with.

but you needed to accompany your boss for the week and mary knew how important it was that she was just as supportive of you and your career as you were of hers, she was nothing less than your number one fan and made sure you knew that every chance she had to prove it to you.

as much as she'd love nothing more than to order a takeaway and potato it out on the sofa mary knew that just wasn't an option and the more she put things off the longer and more overwhelming her to do list became.

so with a sharp inhale mary shut off the engine and unbuckled herself, mentally preparing for what was likely to be a grueling all nighter as she grabbed her kit bag from the back, which was filled with even more dirty laundry for the ever growing collection she was complaining as the days passed.

locking her car behind her mary trudged her way up the driveway, feet dragging along the cement as if weighed down by anchors until she eventually made it to the front door.

the woman had to withhold the urge to launch her keys across the front yard as she dropped them twice trying to fumble around and unlock the door, eventually shoving them in with a pained sigh, shouldering it open and stepping over the threshhold.

mary closed the door behind her and adjusted her kit bag on her shoulder, kicking off her trainers and frowning as she realised the once messy cubby of shoes was neatly organised, her shoes all stacked up neatly and in colour order.

the next thing that peaked her suspicion was the smell of lavender drifting around the house, as well as the music she now noticed coming from down the hall. following her nose marys eyes widened in shock as she slowly took in the spotless living room.

"oh hi love, sorry i didn't even hear you come in." mary let out a yell and spun around, dropping her bag to the ground as you watched on with an amused smile, cocking your head to the side as mary opened and closed her mouth in shock.

"you look like a goldfish." you quipped teasingly, taking a step closer toward her as mary firmly shook her head. "you're supposed to be in london." she managed to spit out, still trying to wrap her head around what was happening right now.

"when you called me yesterday i could hear how tired you were, i know this week is insane for you with the MAE27 drop and the ongoing contract negotiations, not to mention you taking the next step with nike and what that might mean for you if they try to pursue something legal-" you continued to make your way across the room toward her.

"-so i spoke with arthur and he agreed to let me come back early and work from home. i could work from the office but with everyone still in london for the conference there's really no point, I mean I might pop in a couple times but-" your words were cut off short as your girlfriend quickly closed the distance between you and engulfed you in a bone crushing hug.

you couldn't help but laugh as she picked you up off your feet, gripping you so tight you could swear you might have bruises from how her fingertips dug themselves into your skin as she held your body close to her own.

"so i made my way back here this morning. cleaned the house, did some work, caught you up on laundry, bought some groceries and made dinner. which you're just in time for!" you announced happily as she placed you back down on your feet.

grabbing your girlfriends hand you all but dragged her into the dining room, gently pushing her down into a seat, hands on her shoulders.

"try to relax baby, you're insanely tense." you spoke softly, squeezing her shoulders and kissing her cheek tenderly before hurrying off to the kitchen.

mary was still in a state of shock as you busied yourself dishing up, flittering around the kitchen as marys eyes wandered around the once messy home, so clean she probably could have eaten off any surface without a second thought.

craning her head to the side she peered into your shared bedroom, immediately noticing her mountain of clean laundry had suddenly disappeared, as had her wardrobe of clothes which once littered the floor this morning.

eyes drifting back to you she located the source of the gentle lavender which was wafting around the room, the diffuser you'd purchased a few months go expelling the fragrant floral scent into the air.

if there was one thing mary would associate you with, it was flowers.

you'd made it clear from the moment you'd met her how much they meant to you, forever admiring them with a soft loving gaze, fingers stroking the petals with the outmost care as if they were made from the most fragile of glass.

the older girl noticed you bought yourself a new bunch every week which would sit proudly on your coffee table in the early stages of your relationship before you'd moved in together.

so of course mary then made sure she bought you flowers every week, the radiant smile which would curl onto your face at the sweet gesture each time she handed them over making her heart flutter as you'd hold them so tenderly.

you looked to them as you would a newborn child, as if you could hurt them if handled too rough. after you’d carefully placed them in a vase pecking her lips at least four times, mumbling your gratitude as you did.

so of course it came as no surprise to mary to see you'd bought a fresh bunch of poppies which were sat in a vase on the table.

the simple gesture was the tipping point for the keeper as she felt her exhaustion finally come to a boil, tears welling up in her eyes.

"so i made your favorite but-" you hurried back with a plate piled high with food, though you quickly placed it down seeing the obvious pain in your girlfriends eyes.

"oh mary." your features softened as the thin line of tolerance the older girl had suddenly snapped, the tears carving their path down her flushed cheeks.

"why are you crying love?" you asked quietly with a concerned frown, your girlfriend wordlessly scooting her chair back and tugging you to straddle her lap, your hands coming to rest gently either side of her face as hers gripped at the back of your top.

your thumbs tenderly wiped away her tears as her fists balled your shirt, twisting the material tightly and pushing your body into hers, burying her face in your chest as you felt her tears dampen your shirt.

"oh baby." you sighed, arms moving to wrap around her neck, one hand cradling the back of her head as the other dipped down her shirt and traced soft circles on her back with your nails.

you recognized that she clearly needed to let this out as you held her tightly, whispering sweet words of affirmation in her ear as she slowly began to settle. "sorry about your shirt." the older girl sniffled, cracking a small smile as she pulled her head away, noticing the obvious tear stains on your shoulder.

"thats okay my love its yours anyway." you teased playfully, wiping a few stray tears from her crystal blue eyes and reaching behind you to grab a few tissues, handing them to mary as she blotted at her puffy red eyes.

"sorry i just-i was so drained today and i knew i had so much more to do when i got home and my day just seemed to drag on and on and on. then the last thing i expected was you to be here, let alone for you to have literally done everything because of course i'm hopeless. but i don't want you to feel like you have to do this and you have to take care of-" you cut her off as you gently placed a hand over her mouth.

"okay first of all. i don't feel like i have to take care of you, or i have to do anything for you. i did what i did because i love you ever so dearly and i want to look after you, i want you to feel cared for and supported and like you can come home after a shit day and just unwind. so please don't thank me, don't feel guilty, just know that i love you more than anything and you don't need to tackle everything alone." you spoke softly but your words held firm, mary stunned wordless at the overwhelming wave of emotions she felt for you, only nodding along.

"as much as i love what a business woman and a tough boss bitch you are, independence doesn't mean you have to do everything yourself. i'm here, let me take some of the load for you yeah?" you smiled tenderly, mary again nodding and pulling you into a hug, your lips resting lovingly on her forehead as she mumbled how much she adored you into your shoulder, affectionately kissing your collarbone and jawline before making her way to your lips.

"as much as i love kissing you, please eat before it gets cold." you gently pushed her away and stood to your feet, sliding her the plate of food as mary almost moaned at the sight of it, happily tucking in as you sat down beside her and did the same.

with her ongoing questions you filled her in on how the last few days you had been at the conference were, the blonde listening intently practically hanging off your every word and you melted at the obvious effort.

ignoring your protests that you could do it mary wasted no time shooing you out of the kitchen and into the shower, threatening to throw you over her shoulder and walk you into the bathroom herself unless you went willingly.

as you disappeared the older girl was quick with washing up everything from dinner, unable to wipe the smile off of her face at just how looked after and cared for she felt, wrapped up in the comfortable and cosy little bubble of domestic bliss you'd crafted for her oh so intricately.

drying her hands mary joined you in the living room where you took up her normal position as the big spoon, opening your arms and patting the space in between your legs with an alluring smile.

you let out a laugh as the taller girl practically belly flopped on top of you, peppering your face with sloppy kisses before settling in your arms.

you threw on her favorite movie which only softened her up more, your hands coming to rest on her shoulders as you began to massage out the tense knots of stress, pressing the occasional tender kiss to the back of her shoulder blade or below her ear.

the deeper you pushed the more relief flooded her body and mary couldn't help but let her eyes start to slowly flutter close, overcome by a tantalizing cocktail of both exhaustion and bliss.

and in that moment, wrapped up in your arms and smothered with your love and care, mary solemnly swore to herself, she'd make you her wife one day, and that day was going to come as soon as she possibly could make it.

#woso x reader #woso #mary earps x reader #mary earps #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #woso blurbs #man united

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ynbabe · 2 months

Text

Bite Me ୨୧ Charles Leclerc x Reader- Vampire AU

Charles had admittedly done many stupid things in his life, getting turned into a vampire in a club in Monaco was definitely one of them, but at least he has you, but what happens when his brothers see the bite marks on you?

Was it obvious I was listening to Lana del Rey while writing this?

You groaned as his teeth sank into your collarbones, blood seeping out into his mouth. Your grip on his shoulders as a pang of pain rolls through your body as he sucks on the open wound, lapping up the warm blood that poured out.

Your nails dug deeper into his bare back as the pain increased, a small groan escaping his lips as you broke skin. Your head fell back as Charles finally let go.

You pressed your hand to your head feeling light-headed, squinting your eyes you missed the look of guilt Charles had.

"I'm sorry, Mon Amore," he kissed your neck, lips still sticky. You could only hum in response. He laid down on top of you, burying his head on your chest.

"Did you get enough?" You asked him, making him nod against your skin.

When you first found out, you were terrified, almost running out of the apartment when he showed you his teeth but his puppy eyes made your heart break. So you stayed.

"Lets go clean up," he whispered in your ears, picking you up.

You showered first, then changed into a simple pair of sweatpants and a tank top, not realising all the old bites that had turned into nasty bruises could be seen easily.

Just as you had tied up your hair, the doorbell rang. "Hey, babe, are you expecting anyone?" you called out.

"I don't think so," he yelled back. You sighed and walked out of your bedroom, going to check who'd interrupted Charles and your weekend bliss.

You had barely opened the door when Arthur came barreling in, a tired Lorenzo behind him, an apologetic look on his face. "Hey, Y/n," he greeted pulling you in for a hug, unknowingly applying pressure on Charles' bite marks, making you hiss in the older man's arms.

"Are you okay?" He asked, gasping when he saw the yellowed bruises on your arms, redder- more newer ones on your shoulders and the still fresh ones on your neck and collar bone.

His eyes widened as he pushed into the apartment, turning you around to see the 'damage', you tried to explain that it wasn't a big deal. It was Arthur's turn to go ballistic, he stopped talking, staring at you with his jaw slacked open. "What the fuck?" He whispered.

"Guys this isn't what you think-" You began but they wouldn't accept it.

Lorenzo furrowed his brows, "Did Charles do this to you?" he asked.

"No, Enzo," you tried to explain, without outing Charles' secret, "Not, in the way you think, he- it's not," you seriously weren't prepared to be interrogated today.

"Oh my god," he looked away, "this isn't right, Y/n, we can help you, I know he's our brother but you can talk to us," he started, Arthur butting in.

"Fuck that, he's hurting you y/n, you get help," Arthur called out. You were touched by their protectiveness but you had to explain before they thought the worst of Charles.

"Guys please," you tried once again but to no avail. Suddenly you were pushed behind the two boys, and before you could ask why you saw Charles walk out, a matching pair of sweatpants on, hair still dripping from the shower.

He seemed shocked to see his brother, especially the anger in their eyes, he moved towards you but they pressed forward, confusing him further.

"Hey-"

"DON'T YOU FUCKING HEY US YOU BASTARD," Arthur yelled making Charles flinch.

Arthur pulled you further back, glaring at his bother.

"How could you? You were supposed to love her! Maman raised you better than this!" Lorenzo yelled making Charles' eyes well with tears.

"What- what are you talking about?" He asked, trying to make sense of the whole situation, when Lorenzo pointed at you and all the recovering bite marks.

A look of realisation flashed across his face making him smile in relief, pissing off his brothers even more, "YOU'RE FUCKING SMILING" Arthur barked, throwing a pillow at Charles with deadly accuracy but he was faster, much faster.

"How could you even think I could do something like that?" He asked, suddenly infront of Arthur, "I'm a vamipre, not a monster!" He exclaimed, showing his fangs.

"Oh..." Arthur said meekly before passing out in your arms.

"Your a- a what? Is this some weird sex thing, because I don't want to know." Lorenzo asked with a hint of disgust in his voice.

Charles laughed and nodded no, explaining to his brother how he got into the predicament, providing proof by easily lifting Arthur by the collar with one hand.

"I- uh, I need to-" he pointed at the sofa, sitting down with his head in his hands. Charles placed Arthur next to Lorenzo, while you brought them water, gently waking up Arthur.

You and Charles took your place across them.

"So, you're fine with, whatever this is?" He asked you, waving his hands between Charles and you.

"Yeah,"

"H-how do you drive? Arent most races in the sun?" Arthur asked, finally waking up.

"Art, it's not like Twilight," he explained, "I just need more sunscreen than usual," he shrugged.

"Does Fred know? Any of the other drivers? Maman?" Lorenzo shot off.

Arthur on the other hand was interested in other questions, "Does your skin sparkle? Do you know any other vampires? How fast can you run? Do you actually drink blood?" he rambled, water long forgotten.

"Calm down, Arthur," You laughed at the younger boy.

"One question at a time guys, but no, no one else knows, not even Maman," he looked at Lorenzo.

"And no, my skin doesn't sparkle, it's not Twilight!" he exclaimed once again, making Arthur roll his eyes, "Yes, Fernando's one, and maybe Lance but I'm not sure, I can run pretty fast now, and yes, I need blood to survive now," he explained each answer making Arthurs eyes grow wider.

"That's where I come in," You raised your hand, pointing to the bite marks on your body.

"Does that hurt?" Lorenzo asked.

"It used to, not as much now," you shrugged, "It heals fast when I drink his blood," You explained making Arthur gag.

"So it's like TVD," he grimaced,

"I mean, yeah, sure," you answered.

A few more questions and finally Lorenzo and Arthur were satiated, deciding to leave. rather than staying for what they had originally come to do.

"I'm kind of hungry, order in?" Charles winked at you making you roll your eyes.

"Bite me."

Hope y'all like this, as always comments and reblogs are much appreciated! Also, how would y'all like a DC-style Logan fic? I've been itching to write that!

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #lorenzo leclerc #lorenzo leclerc x reader #lance stroll #fernando alonso #vampire au

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madebycloud · 10 months

Text

Cozy

jenna ortega x reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: rainy morning breakfast with your girlfriend (requested by anon) warnings/themes: fluff, rainy morning, breakfast err words: 0.7k

The rain's been lashing the windows all night. You roll over in the cozy little cove you've created with the blankets and pillows around you. The early morning chill is too strong for the warmth of your bed.

Suddenly, you receive a notification on your phone. You slide from the warmth of your bed and move over to the bedside table, picking up your phone and checking the notifications.

Nothing but spam and promotional messages. You sigh, returning the phone to the nightstand.

You sat up, stretching your arms and scratching your hair. You took your time to wake up, feeling the laziness seep into your bones. The idea of getting up made you want to just crawl back under the blankets.

The woman next to you was still sleeping, snoring softly. You reach out and wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her close to you and placing a string of kisses across her shoulder.

She mumbles something unintelligible, but her body shifts underneath your touch, and she rolls over to face you. Her eyes are half-closed, but her smile is bright as she touches your cheek and pulls you in for a long, lingering kiss.

“Morning,” you mumble once the lips finally part. She giggles before laying her head against your neck.

“What time is it?” she asks, her voice still raspy.

“I dunno, 7 something...?” you reply, unsure of the actual hour but confident enough that it's early morning.

You give her a quick kiss on the cheek before getting up to start your daily routine. You washed your face, brushed your teeth, and dressed in comfortable, warm clothing.

When you were done, you found her still in bed, her body curled up like a cat behind the cozy sheets.

You head to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, determined to make something special today. You start the coffee maker and read through the many recipes on your phone, hoping to find one that's quick, easy, and delicious enough to satisfy both your cravings and your taste buds.

Then you see it: those fluffy, mouth watering pancakes with sliced strawberries and maple syrup. It's like they were made for you and your taste buds.

“Ahh, that's the one”, you tell yourself, grabbing the ingredients in a flash to start cooking. Your fingers move fast and effectively as you beat up the batter, and before you know it, you've had a flawlessly golden, fluffy batch of pancakes created precisely the way you want them.

While your cakes are cooking, tiny little hands wrap around you from behind, and you turn to see your girlfriend.

“That smells delicious,” she says to you, her eyes focused on the cooking pancakes. You kiss her lips gently before turning back to the pancakes.

“Trust me, babe, you're about to partake in a culinary masterpiece crafted by none other than the 5-star chef.”

“Sorry to disturb the master chef,” she says, before she sits down at the counter, resting her legs in a cross and tilting her head to watch you cook. “What are you cooking?”

You can't help but roll your eyes, but you're not upset at all. With a playful grin, you reply, “Obviously, a five-star meal.”

Finally, the pancakes are done, and they are served on a dish with some additional maple syrup on top, as if you were an actual 5-star chef. Breakfast in hand, you set it down on the small table. Jenna follows you and sits down on the couch next to you, resting her head on your shoulder.

You sip from your coffee, tuning into the local news broadcast on TV. They're reporting the weather, which is rainy outside. You take a mouthful of the crisp, syrup-coated pancake—the sweetness of the strawberries and the richness of the syrup complement each other perfectly, and it's the perfect way to start your day.

With a smile on your face and the pleasure of a job well done, you lean in to kiss her.

It's going to be another one of those days where you have too much stuff to do and not enough time to do it all. Oh well, at least you can count on your amazing morning kisses to make it worth it.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x you #request

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lunargrapejuice · 1 year

Text

drunk confessions

alhaitham x fem!reader | 3k words

warnings: drunk alhaitham, a bit of unwanted touching from another character

the unpredictability of love was perhaps alhaithams worst enemy, at least when it came to you, and as he watched your skin flush under the gaze of another man that was more evident than ever.

he's forgotten why he even came out this way, if he had been seeking you out like he often did or was just trying to get his mind off of you before he spotted you in the distance, wearing that flowy dress that he can’t get enough of, accompanied by another scholar who stood much too close to you, who caressed and grabbed your arm to get you to look at him before leaning toward your lips. alhaitham didn’t stick around to watch you kiss the man. he hadn’t prepared himself for the feeling of tightness in his chest as he walked away or the deep breaths he’d need to take all the way back to his office to try to stop it, though it was to no avail in the end. this annoying lick of flames that kept his chest feeling annoyingly uncomfortable at the thought of another man taking you as their own didn’t disappear simply because he had walked away.

he had struggled, or maybe it was more so avoided, processing the fact that he had indeed fallen in love with you and even after he came to the conclusion of love, he still chose to do nothing about it. love was everything he was not; irrational, illogical, the act of following one’s heart. and you were..

kaveh had once told alhaitham that he couldn’t understand why someone as bright and lovely as you would want to be around someone with such an unlikeable personality, who never saw anything for its true beauty but instead at face value and even then found them unnecessary. you found beauty in everything and gave everyone the kindness he had come to adore, even if he thought most were not deserving of your caring nature. but that never stopped you from being around him, never stopped you from enjoying the peaceful silence as you read books side by side or walked around the city and pointed out the worldly beauties he had not cared to note until he met you. you had blushed at his bone dry teasing and fought with him many times trying to justify such lovely things and why they were important to life. he loved to fluster you, to rile you up, see that pout on your lips and the determination in your eyes as you tried to rationalize that which wasn’t rational at all. but even more than that, he loved to see you smile and a part of him wondered if someone with such a cold, seemingly unfeeling, personality like his own could continue to make you smile.

as irritated as it made him feel, as he sits in his office chair and runs a hand through his hair, he can’t help but think, would the man you were with today be able to keep you smiling and happy in ways he could not?

“gods don’t you look to be in a terrible mood,” kaveh voice breaks alhaitham from his thoughts. apparently he had been so caught in them he had failed to hear his roommate burst through the door or even walk in until he spoke and made himself comfortable on the chair in front of his desk. “want to talk about it?”

“get out.”

“now hold on! i may have a better suggestion and i think you’ll like it,” kaven smiles mischievously and alhaitham already knows what he’s about to say. “want a drink instead?”

“fine but you’re buying.”

your palm stung from the impact against the cheek of the man who had tried to force himself on you. even minutes after walking away, with your chest in knots and your eyes full of unshed tears of anger, you could still feel the tingle of pressure throughout your fingertips. just who did he think he was trying to kiss you unprovoked in the middle of the street like that?! archons you hated arrogant scholars who tried to take what they wanted without actually hearing your own words simply because they thought they were above you.

“my position at the akademiya will make a comfortable life for you. i know i could make you a happy housewife.”

blah blah blah.

it was all pointless drivel when your heart already belonged to someone else, another scholar who’s position in the akademiya never mattered to you. being the scribe never swayed your feelings, was never even a component as to why you fell in love with him and he would certainly laugh at the idea of making you a housewife. but it didn’t matter because you have never confessed your feelings to him and you aren’t sure you ever would.

surely he would find love a waste of time, unnecessary to his own goals. and even if he didn’t think that way about love, didn’t he deserve to be with someone of his same status, someone who could share his wealth in knowledge? the fact he was a genius didn’t escape you and it only made sense that he deserved to be with someone who could share that with him or at least be on a similar level but you didn’t feel like you quite met that bill. so you’d kept your mouth shut and held down the lid of your affections for him, even if it did spill out from time to time when you couldn’t help but reach out to touch him or caught yourself staring at him for longer than you should have.

sometimes you wished to let it all out even though you knew it meant he’d leave your life, to spare you both- it was the most logical action after all- and that was the last thing you wanted. but as you lock the door to your apartment and flop onto the couch face first into a decorative pillow you wonder, had spoken how you felt about him if maybe it could have been him confessing his feelings and trying to kiss you today.

you both hate and love the thought; it’s nothing more than a silly daydream but it was one that made your heart flutter nonetheless.

bang bang bang

the loud thumps on your door draw your attention away from your book and to the clock hanging on the wall. your eye twitches when you see the time, it's well past midnight and the moonlit night shining through the window also says as much. who the hell is coming to your door this late and why are they being so damn loud?!

placing a pressed flower bookmark on the page you were on, you leave the book to rest on the coffee table and go to give this person a piece of your mind and a lesson in the manners of which a person can come to someone’s house unannounced this late into the evening. but as you open the door and are met with seafoam eyes flecked with amber and the tall shadow of alhaitham engulfing your figure, any words you had got caught in your throat and were swallowed to join the butterflies that were doing somersaults in your stomach and the running thoughts that took over every inch of your body.

“y/n..” your name leaves his lips slow and you can smell the alcohol on his breath from here. it’s only then do you notice the glossiness of his eyes and the emotions you can’t quite make out behind them or how he slumps against the door frame, as if he’s using it to keep himself up right.

“let’s get you some water,” you say with a reassuring smile, some kind of attempt to help ease whatever is going on inside his mind that brought him to your door this late at night, and drunk of all things but your questions to why he’s here and what he’s doing this drunk could wait, at least for now.

as if your heart wasn’t already beating like crazy, it almost jumps right out of chest when you put your arm around his middle to help steady him on your walk to the couch and he wraps his arm around you, the muscles of his torso flexing against your hand and side. his grip on you is hardly for support, it seems he can walk fine for the most part but his arm around you is still tight, pulling you so close there’s barely an inch between your bodies.

with his strength, strength a ‘feeble scholar’ didn’t need in the slightest, he pulls you onto the couch with him. embarrassed to be almost on top of him, you avoid his eyes as you move a bit farther away but he doesn’t let you go far. the warmth of his fingers trail from where he held onto you, up your spine and to the side of your neck. warm calloused fingers rest there, feeling every hard thump of your heart and the heat that spreads throughout your whole body but he doesn’t comment or tease you about it. when you finally meet his eyes again, there’s no hiding his are staring directly at your lips.

your face feels so hot under this kind of attention from him, you don’t need to look in a mirror to know you’re flushed a bright shade of red but you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. not with the way he held you with such tenderness and looked at you with enchantingly soft eyes and what you now realize may be sadness shining through the cracks.

“s-stay here, i’ll go get you-“

you don’t get a chance to escape to the kitchen to regain your composure or even finish your sentence before he interrupts you. “does he make you happy?”

confused by his question and the hurt in his tone, your body stills. unable to stop yourself from wanting to comfort him, your hands rest on his arm, your fingers soothing over his skin. “what are you talking about? does who make me happy?”

he grumbles, as if hating to think about whoever it was he was talking about. “that man…” he looks just as muddled as you trying to remember who this man was. “the one who kissed you today.” his fingers resting on your neck tighten their grip, not enough to hurt but enough to tell you how urgent it was you tell him. you’re shocked he had seen what happened earlier but if he thought you had kissed him.. he must not have seen it all. before you can reply and clear the air between you, if you could even find words to speak, the pad of his thumb runs along on your bottom lip, gently swiping across it and back again. you can’t think, can hardly breath but all of it, all of your brain function and answers to his question are taken from you when he leans in close, his silver hair tickling your face, his heated breath fanning your already burning skin and says, “i wanted to be the only one to kiss your lips.”

it’s quiet for a long moment, only the sound of his heavy breaths and your heart beating rapidly filling your ears as he keeps you impossibly close. all this time had he felt the same way as you? your mind races with memories of these last few months when you’ve found your way to his side; times he made you smile, the moments you reached out to touch him and he didn’t pull away, when you swore you caught him staring back at you, even if it was only for a split moment.

“but if he makes you happy.. makes you smile..” his words trail off but he doesn’t let you go, doesn’t move from the proximity of your face. you’re so close your chests are nearly touching with every deep breath you both take.

“i didn’t kiss him,” you finally reply and his desperate grip on you relaxes, a sigh of relief escaping past his lips. “honestly.. his advances towards me weren’t all that consensual..”

quickly enough to give any normal person whiplash, he pulls away from you and stares at you more seriously than he ever has before, the amber of his eyes burning with a fierce fire. “did he touch you? i -”

“didn’t you hear me ‘haitham?” you reassure him, squeezing his arm gently and offering him a sweet smile. “i said i didn’t kiss him. he tried but i gave him my answer in the form of a quite lovely handprint to the face. some of my best work if i do say so myself.” you chuckle at the thought, how proud you felt of yourself for not letting him get away with touching you unwarranted like that and trying to push you into something you made clear you didn’t want.

“that’s my girl.” he says it so casually, like you truly were his and yeah, maybe you weren’t officially, you had never agreed to that with him, but your heart belonged to him all the same.

in your boldness, under the smile of relief and amusement he gave you, a smile that made you even weaker to the handsome man before you, you find your bubbling feelings can’t be held back and let a little more than you ever have before slip through. “i only want you to be the one kissing me too, you know.”

once again he pulls you close. this time resting his forehead on yours while his thumb caresses your cheek and cradles your face, your own hands resting against his chiseled chest, feeling the beating of his heart under your palm. the strands of your hair mix with his, your shared breaths becoming shallow and bated. it's hard to think straight, to not become a complete melting mess in his arms and keep your own feelings from coming out completely to a drunk person who likely wouldn’t even remember this in the morning.

you want so badly to kiss him, to feel the lips you’ve been yearning for against your own but the thought of his drunken regret, that he may not even remember this in the morning, that you may be getting your hopes up, stops you from closing the distance.

“not tonight ‘haitham.. not while you’re drunk,” of course he listens, doesn't kiss you despite how badly he wants to, his fingers flexing against you to stop himself. “but if you still feel the same way tomorrow, if you still want to then, you know where to find me.”

in the peaceful silence you often find with him, he rubs the tip of his nose against yours and keeps your head gently pressing against his. you don’t know how long you stay in that position, basking in this unusually soft and needy display of affection from him and as much as you’d like to stay here for longer, the clock continues to tick and you know you should get him to bed.

moving your hands from his chest to his shoulders, you pull away and feel your heart skip many beats at his response to pull you closer, to not let you go. “come on, let’s get you home.”

luckily he doesn’t live too far and even though he kept you pressed against his side, you didn’t have to help him walk all that much. you find kaveh drunkenly sleeping against the door when you arrive at the house, guess that explains why alhaitham was drunk, and with a knowing smile alhaitham pulls out both house keys from his pocket.

once inside, kaveh now passed out on the couch half covered under a blanket you found nearby, you get alhaitham on the other couch, helping him take off the headphones he usually wears so he can sleep more comfortably before pulling a blanket over him. he looks cute like this, you think. so unlike his normal stern, cool and calculating self and yet still the same man you fell in love with. you hope you get to see more of it, though possibly sober instead of drunk next time.

once he’s comfortable you go to leave, but before you can even take a step away from him, long fingers wrap around your wrist. you turn to face him and see a flash of that determination to see through anything he sets his mind to flash behind his tired eyes.

“y/n… i’ll come for you tomorrow.”

you try not to fuss, not to look eagerly at every set of footsteps that come your way that next morning. you know there’s a possibility it was all just a drunk mistake or that he hadn’t meant it, not that you think him a liar but alcohol did far worse things to people than make them say things they didn’t mean.

still, the way he acted.. what he said.. you wanted it all to be true and deep in your heart you felt like it was. so as patiently as you could, you waited and went about your day with thoughts of alhaitham lingering in the back of your mind. the way he held you last night, the words he professed at the thought of you being with another man, how he called your name like it was the only word he wanted to say.

you heard it over and over in your mind until you swore you heard it for real and with a racing heart, you turned around to see the man you loved making his way towards you, the early afternoon light at his back, that same determination from last night in his now clear, well rested, eyes.

“why do you look so surprised to me?” he asks, never stopping his long strides that close the distance between you. even when there aren't any more steps to take, he brings you closer to him. one hand snaking around your side to the small of your back, pressing you against his chest, while the other gently moves through your hair to hold the back of your neck, his words whispered against your lips as you lifted on your toes to reach him. “i told you i’d be coming.”

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