#to eat them rather than let them grow up and starve

[kabutoden]

having a 8 billion spider siblings wouldnt fix her but it would be funny. its so hard being a middle child that’s why she’s like that

RQ OPEN!!

#vriska serket #homestuck #spidermom #lusus #homestuck troll #give her siblings!!!!!! #it’s hard growing up with a billion spider siblings in funny hats who are constantly backstabbing each other #they all have to feed spider mom to not get eaten btw. sometimes sibling bonding is sharing one of the dead trolls you caught #but also this is abt vriskas difficulty to bond with trolls. in this way she is both neither a normal troll or a normal spider : ( #its family business to catch trolls but she wishes she was excluded from it on account of being a troll #spidermom’s a better parent in this but believes morally if her children can’t catch trolls and help feed her it’s her obligation #to eat them rather than let them grow up and starve #it’s hard having a giant spider for a mom #buglore

[i-cant-sing]

Okay okay, I have another idea-

Yandere dad Nanami x Nanami reader

I've made yall see the menace Fushiguro reader who we all love and adore, but let's talk about Nanami's daughter who is an absolute angel and polar opposite to Fushiguro reader.

Child reader is just the most well behaved kid, listens to her father always, and since Nanami is raising her, she's also going to be very good in her studies because papa Nanami is a very good teacher. I mean, reader is definitely on top of her class and has a whole wall dedicated to her awards and medals. She just has to show off her math skills when she plays cafe (because obv she's gonna be a baker who bakes fresh bread daily for Nanami to buy and make sandwiches) and uses Monopoly money.

And when I say reader is polite, that is the understatement of the history. She just cannot bear to offend anyone! She has to put "-san" with everyone's name and has to address them correctly. "Yuji-san! Megumi-San!" And "pervert-San!" Which is Gojo, because of course Nanami has told her to beware of him and only address him as "pervert-san".

"But my name's Gojo!" He tells you, but you're so distressed because dad told you to call the white haired man wearing a blindfold/glasses "pervert-san" and it'd be rude to address him as anything else!

And Nanami adores his kid so much. She's such a perfect child, never breaks rules (don't talk to strangers or Pervert san.) and is such a goody-goody. He is a present father, he makes time for you. The Jujutsu sorcerers can wait, the world can be saved by someone else, but he needs to attend your school play at all costs. And even when hes not around for the day, he has raised you to be a very responsible child- like you even go get the groceries on your own when dad is late! (Like that Japanese show in which they send kids to shop on their own)

But of course, there are times when he needs to be away for longer periods, so he needs to hire a babysitter. His top choices: Shoko(although hes a little hesitant since you have a morbid curiosity learning and Shoko would happily let you accompany her to the morgue), Yuta, Maki, Megumi + Yuji + Nobara.

Who is NEVER allowed to babysit you? Gojo.

Gojo babysits anyway. (He fr steals you from Megumi trio)

And Nanami just comes home to Gojo and reader eating takeout and he's just like "Y/n, how could you let Pervert san in your home and eat with him?" And reader's just on the brink of tears and is trying to defend herself "b-but you said to be polite to guests! And Pervert-san bought food for me. Wouldn't it be rude to not share it with him?" *reader's teary eyes* and then Gojo is like "you'd rather let your child starve? Can't you see how tiny she already is?!" *Gojo's teary eyes* and Nanami pops a vein "it's not cute when you do it!"And then kicks Gojo out of the house.

Even though reader can dress herself up appropriately, she still has to have her hair done by Nanami, no matter what age. At some point, reader probably realises that it's something Nanami needs more than she does. It's a tradition, you think, but it's actually a coping mechanism for Nanami to deal with the fact that you're "growing up" and don't ask him to watch cartoons with you or read you bedtime stories anymore🥺

And Sukuna??? He takes one look at you and he's already decided he's gonna be mean to you, but then the more time you spend with him and Yuji, the more he realises.... its just not worth being mean to the only person who is so sweet to him and actually greets and talks to him like he's an individual person and not just a parasite inside Yuji's skin. Like reader just goes "Sukuna-san! I'm painting Yuji-san's nails but he can't pick a color. Will you help?" And he's like "Alright, fuck it I'm taking this brat with me when I comit mass murder. She's safe."

I feel like Nanami will allow reader to have a fairly normal childhood, so he keeps his yandere tendencies at a bay. It's when you start growing up and as he says "the others try to taint you with momentary pleasures" that his yandereness begins to show. Honestly, it's just more of his protective tendencies coming to light than anything else. He thinks people don't have your best interests in and sometimes he's right, but how else will you learn if you don't experience it?

Also, if you do end up having cursed energy and the ability to see curses, I think that's when Nanami starts spiralling down. He does not want you to become a Jujutsu sorcerer, he wants you far far away from the Jujutsu world completely. He can't- he can't allow what happened to Haibrara happen to you. He can't allow your innocence and naivety to be tainted by the horrendous world of curses. He'd rather risk you hating him forever as he locks you away than allow you to put your life at risk for others.

You are his priority. Your safety is his priority. You'll understand in due time why he did what he did, so while his heart does break hearing you cry and beg to be let out of your room, he doesn't regret putting you in there one bit.

Nanami sighs as he continues prepping your dinner. Guess he'll have to add some crushed sleeping pills so that you don't get sick from crying your bodyweight out (or more like he can't bear to see you in such a pitiful state.)

God save the poor souls who do end up kidnapping you.

#yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jjk nanami #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #jujutsu geto #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader

[allfearstofallto]

Dandelion Wine

Yandere! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader x Yandere(?) Childe

Forced Marriage AU

Word Count: 4.1k

Synopsis: No crush is simply harmless when married to Scaramouche, but what he doesn't know won't hurt him. And what he doesn't see won't affect him, so what's the harm in putting on a little show?

TW: Yandere, obsessive themes, forced marriage, mentions of abuse/violence/punishment, reader mentions dissociating during sex, dub-con, unprotected sex, finishing inside, voyeurism, infidelity, masturbation (m. & f.)

Scaramouche believed that dinner should be eaten in silence with only the sound of the silverware and plates clattering. Hence why he rarely spoke at the table. He also believed that the same morals he applied to himself, were for you as well. Your sweet, plump lips that he kissed and sucked constantly, were to be shut and devoid of noises, only eating during meal times. The food that was prepared was meant to be savored, every bite of it tasted and appreciated. Because of that, dinners felt long, quiet, and worst of all, extremely tense.

The only times things were different, was when Childe came to visit. Number eleven as your husband called him, and Ajax as the orange haired man insisted he wanted you to refer to him as. His cheeky smile and big, blue eyes practically lit up the room, he was practically the epitome of visual charisma. And there was his incessant chatter, Scaramouche would say, his non stop talking about something or other. You never had the heart to tell the man you married that Childe actually talked a normal amount and that he was abnormally quiet.

“Have you ever seen a piece of mora straight from Liyue,” he asked rather loudly while holding up the coin, “Shiniest you'll ever see one. Man, those Liyue natives have no idea how lucky they are!”

You smiled alongside the man, also finding the topic interesting. The coin was indeed shiny, the only impurities on it being the fingerprints from Childe's hands. Other than that, it glimmered, making you realize how old and dirty the mora you must've had before was. Scaramouche wasn't impressed at all. He wasn't even paying attention. Quietly sipping his miso soup at the head of the table, his eyes only focused on his meal.

“Want it?” Childe asked you and you tried not to perk up too much, but your excitement was palpable. Seldom did Scaramouche entertain you with conversation or fun gifts. The only thing he'd bring you back from his travels was a single flower and maybe a regional tea to try together, but nothing you typically enjoyed.

“May I take it, my lord?” Pleading eyes looked at your husband who seemed more irritated than usual.

He let out a sigh, dropping his chopsticks in frustration, “Will it make the both of you shut up?”

Harsh words were nothing new to you, but you had to admit that those eyes of his made you freeze up like stone. No matter how many days you spent married to him, you never grew less afraid of your husband. And you definitely never found yourself coming to love him.

“Yes, my lord,”

He nodded to Childe and the coin was dropped into your hand. You held it as if it were fragile, not wanting to stain the shiny metal anymore than it already was. Your lips formed into a weak smile that you gave to Childe, then another one to Scaramouche who merely nodded at your display of joy, seemingly disinterested.

His chopsticks were picked up, a sign that he wished for dinner to continue on. You picked up yours as well. Your months of living with your spouse meant you had plenty of time to practice. Little leeway was given to you when it came to what you ate with, and despite the fact that you were originally from Mondstadt, you were given chopsticks with every meal. Time and practice made you grow accustomed to them, that and the fact that Scaramouche wouldn't allow you to eat with anything else. Learn to eat with them or starve, he told you. And you did grow terribly hungry.

Childe was more of a special case. He apparently lacked dexterity in hands. You saw it in the way he struggled to use the bow he was hell bent on learning and in the way he struggled to use chopsticks. Throughout the course of the meal, he'd already dropped three pairs, fumbling them dramatically like a character in a comedy play. Each time he'd lose a pair to gravity, leaving the wooden sticks on the floor, he'd look at his barely touched meal. The tragic, almost hopeless look on his face would elicit a laugh from you, followed by Scaramouche shooting you a very knowing glare. He'd sent you to your room without dinner many times before and for much less. Those glares were a good warning to shut up.

“Man! I can't seem to figure out how you eat with these things,” the orange haired male was holding one stick in either hand, instead using them to stab through the food and bring it to his lips. You held back your laughter again, instead forcing yourself to swallow more of your meal.

You had a crush on Childe. Maybe it was because of how kind he actually was or maybe it was because he was the only man you'd seen outside of your lawful husband in a year, but you did like him. He was funny, strong, and most importantly very attractive. Blue eyes and orange hair, a smile that could make a girl swoon with perfectly straight, white teeth. His voice was sultry, smooth like fine dark liquor, but he also knew when to be funny. His sense of humor was more comical to you than Scaramouche's dry humor or snide remarks. You liked Childe. Way more than you wanted to admit.

After dinner was a free time for you. From the time the plates were clean, until it was time for you to go to bed, you were allowed to wander the manor and do what you want. During this period, Scaramouche would be off doing what he pleased. Typically leaving the house to enjoy his night walks, where he'd be gone for hours. It was truly your only time of peace in hell he called home. It was also the only time you could talk to Childe when he came to visit. The two of you would spend the hours just telling each other whatever, it was mostly just you listening to him tell of his travels across all seven nations as you longed for the perceived freedom he had.

Much to your dismay he was nowhere to be found after dinner. You felt stupid searching the house looking for him. The interest towards him was likely one sided and on the slim chance it wasn't, you knew that nothing would happen between the two of you. Yet you looked for him. He was still good for conversation.

Find him you did, at the end of the second floor hallway, but not in the way you thought you would. Steam clouded around the door as he exited the bathroom, a towel was wrapped around his hips, orange pubic hair peeking out from it. His bare chest was covered in scarring, some old and healed, some visibly fresh. His skin was still moist with bathwater, his hair clinging to his face and dripping more down on him. He looked like a piece of art, a statue standing at the end of the hall, toweling his hair with his eyes closed. But then they opened.

You tried to turn on your heels and walk away before he spotted you gawking at him, but quick reflexes were expected of a harbinger. He saw you before you could even manage to take one step back.

“Oi! I was looking for you!” He called, stopping you in your tracks. You did everything in your power to avoid looking at him. That toned, firm body of his was practically begging you to gaze upon it.

“Please find me again when you're more decent, Lord Childe,”

He immediately recognized the forced stiffness of your words and scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his features, “Since when do you refer to me as Lord, huh?” he was still smiling. Despite his undress, he wasn't the least bit shy.

Your mind shifted to your husband. Unwilling of a bride as you might have been, he made sure you were fully committed to him. He once commented on how much you smiled at his fellow harbinger and your blood went cold. Of course he noticed. Scaramouche was nonchalant, quietly observing everything around him, but he wasn't stupid. You know better than to think your little crush was well hidden, he was just giving you a warning in advance.

“I think we should start being more professional around each other,” you strained the words out, watching his face fall from his normal smile. It felt painful saying these things to him, but it was better for your safety and his.

“So we're not having our talks anymore?” He whined cutely, even pouting his lips a little, “I was looking forward to telling you about my stay in Mondstadt,” it was as if he knew exactly how to hold your attention. Lingering on every single syllable to make sure you knew he was speaking of your home, convincing your already weak will to falter, “and the wine I brought with me.” If he had you on his hook by mentioning Mondstadt, then the notion that he'd brought wine with you was all he needed to reel you in.

Hailing from the city of freedom, you were no stranger to a good drink. You remembered your first glass better than you remembered most things in your first kiss. Your first drink was like a rite of passage for Mondstadt and typically, the first liquor you tasted, became your vice. You were no different than your mother or your grandmother, the drink handed down from generation to generation, and your fondness was felt for dandelion wine. A sweet delicacy only found in the city of freedom, an unassuming drink that'd knock you flat on your ass if you didn't take it seriously enough.

But Scaramouche wasn't a fan of sweet things. He wasn't a fan of much, seeing as very little could even get a smile from him, but he had a special hatred in his heart for anything sugary. His taste leaned more towards the bitter, which was like hell for you.

Sake was never your drink of choice. There was plenty of it in Mondstadt, if there was one thing that your city could do right, it was import drinks from all over Teyvat. But just because it was there, didn't mean you ever drank it. Sake was a drink that tasted wrong to you. The harsh, bitter flavor left a terrible feeling inside your mouth that wouldn't leave no matter how much you tried. So of course, it was the favorite of Scaramouche. The disgusting taste matched his disgusting personality. And when you were permitted to drink, which was rare, you were given sake.

“Dandelion?” You questioned hopefully.

“Dandelion,” he affirmed. He was still using his hands to hold his towels, instead using his head to gesture to his room door, telling you to follow him inside. And you did.

You were tense as you sat down on his bed. Tense when you were handed a cup and told to hold it while you waited for him. Tense as he stepped into his closet to dress himself, still coming out in only pants, but no shirt, telling you that his hair was still wet to wear one. But all that tension melted away when he pulled that familiar green bottle from his bag, pouring you a glass of that rich, yellow wine.

The first sip took you back to your family's home. To a festival in Mondstadt, which was just one of the city's many excuses to drink more. The second took you back to a bar you favored, drinking competitions were held through the night, you always won. There was a part of you that just wanted to down the whole glass, drink it all as you'd done before and request another glass before that sweet taste ever left your tongue. But you saw that he'd only brought one bottle, you had to savor this glass.

“It's yours, if you want it,” Childe spoke softly while holding the wine up, he hadn't even poured himself a singular glass of it, “You just have to do one thing for me.”

Big, doe eyes looked up at him as you practically pleaded with him, “What?”

“Tell me how you really feel about me,”

He could've asked you to do a handstand on the roof of the house during a thunderstorm and that would've been much easier. For so long, your feelings for Childe were just thoughts. You could push them to the back of your mind and pretend they didn't exist. If they weren't real, your husband wouldn't hurt you. He wouldn't punish you. And knowing Scara's jealousy, if he knew you had feelings for another and not him, no one would be safe.

“I won't tell,” he spoke again, a gentle hand coming down and stroking his cheek. His fingers were still warm from his bath, still slightly damp to the touch, the way they cling to your face was assuring.

“I'm married,” you said, “Not just to anyone, but your superior. He's nobody that we should be toying with like this.”

“Who says I'm ‘toying’ with anyone? I wouldn't be asking if I didn't have feelings for you as well,”

Your quick beating heart stilled in your chest for a moment, you lingered on every word. Did you make it up? Did he really say what you thought he did? Silence fell over the room as you contemplated what he said. If he liked you as well, he never showed it. Yet, he'd have no way to. Scaramouche seemed to be around every corner.

“I…like you,” saying the words solidified it. His hair, his smile, his voice, even the way he smelled, you liked it all.

You liked him so much you let him place the bottle of wine in your hands. You let him lean over and place a hand on your shoulder, so close to your face his still dripping hair was wetting your forehead. You let his nose brush against yours, you let him sigh against your lips, you let him close the distance between the two of you and sink into a kiss.

Your mind was a blank, empty room as you kissed Childe. You really kissed him. Kisses with Scaramouche felt like he was trying to swallow you whole, trying to own you, not cherish you. But Childe's admittedly cold, chapped lips were caressing yours. His hand that managed to slither around your waist, holding you like he didn't want to let you go, his other hand squeezing your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating. If he could, you wanted his to be beating the same way.

A bell made you break away from the kiss with a gasp like you were about to be killed. Because you were. That wasn't just any bell. It was the chime of the bell above the main door. The one that signified that it was opening. The one that meant Scaramouche was home.

Biting back the urge to throw up, you tossed the wine on his bed and raced from the room. You didn't want to look back at Childe once. Not after the mistake you'd made with him. Lust was clouding your mind, it had to be keeping you from thinking properly. That was the only excuse you could make while you cursed yourself mentally, simultaneously begging that he wasn't aware of what you'd done.

At the foot of the stairs, his large hat still on his head and a grimace on his face, was Scaramouche. His indigo eyes looked you up and down, noticing the way you trembled and panted like you’d run a marathon.

“Where were you?” He asked, tossing his hat to the side. It fell to the floor with a clatter and was easily ignored by him, “Have you forgotten your duties? You know when I'm supposed to be home.”

“I apologize, my lord!” You tried to stop your voice from shaking.

“Well?”

You looked at him dumbfounded as he walked past you up the stairs.

“Aren't you going to tell me why you were late and huffing like a fool at that?”

“I fell asleep, my lord. And once I noticed I was behind, I raced to try to meet you at the door, but it appears I was too late,”

A mere hum from him was your response. Which was good enough, it meant he had nothing harsh to say. As the two of you entered the privacy of your room together, you felt him hug you from behind. Little did he touch you meaninglessly, which meant he wanted to go farther, his soft lips kissing the back of your neck told you enough.

“I'm only so hard on you because I care about you,” he whispered into your ear. Him being sweet you felt worse knowing what you did with Childe just a few short moments earlier.

But still, you ended up lying back on the bed, naked and nestled in the mountain of pillows. Scaramouche thrusting into your hole above you, eyes clenched shut in pleasure. He was fucking you into a mating press, your knees against your chest, causing you to only take shallow breaths. It was a personal favorite of his since it meant he could sink every inch of his cock into you, while still watching your face.

You kept silent as he fucked you, only letting out a few gasps or whines as he hit particularly sensitive spots inside you or thrusted too deep. You didn't enjoy sex with him, it was always something you didn't want, and he wasn't going to make you pretend. Scaramouche was going to do it with you regardless, it was about his own pleasure.

During the act you'd normally be lost in your own world, trying to pay attention to anything, but the way he was rutting his hips into you, it made the time go by quicker. The closet, the clock on the way, the way the bed squeaked, the crack in the door. The crack in the door where Childe stood, watching in the darkness of the hallway.

It took you a moment to realize what you were seeing and you had to convince yourself still that you weren't imagining it. Orange hair, deep, blue eyes, shirtless and strangely with a tent growing in his pants. Childe stood in the doorway watching, out of view of Scaramouche who either has his eyes closed or stayed focusing on your face.

You went to cover yourself, but realized that that would draw your husband's attention to the other man. You couldn't say anything, not without fear of Childe getting hurt in the process. You felt scared, neverous, a little violated, but when you saw him slide a large hand down and palm his growing length through the fabric of his pants, you began to feel almost aroused.

Sick. Sick in the head, you called yourself mentally as your eyes stayed focused on the man watching from the hallway. But you still placed your hands on your breasts, tweaking your nipples and mewling out softly. You didn't know what came over you to make you do such a thing, but knowing that Childe could see you made you want to do more than just lie there. Scaramouche was immediately surprised by you making any noise of pleasure at all and quickened his already brutal pace. But it felt good for once. It felt nice. You could feel yourself growing wetter, your cunt finally sucking him in and welcoming him.

“You're rather receptive tonight,” he grunted out with a smirk and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his confidence.

“I…I suppose it feels better than usual, my lord,” you locked eyes with him, until he clenched his shut from the pleasure once more. Then you looked back at Childe. He'd long since freed his cock from his pants, stroking his long thick length. It was big. That was all you could think as you watched him, how you wished that it was his big cock inside of you, but you could pretend. Pretend that it was him on top of you instead of your husband.

Mewling and moaning louder than you ever had before, making noises you didn't even know you could, your legs were pressed harder against your chest, opening yourself up for him to go even deeper. You were dripping at this point, your wetness sliding down to your ass. But Childe was dripping as well. His cock was leaking precum, coating his hand in a lube that he was using to stroke himself at the same pace that Scara was going inside you.

“Ah! Yes….yes! Fuck me harder!” You'd never begged for more like this before, but who was he to question it, he'd never know that your cries were for another. He was enjoying how wet you felt around him, how you were moving your hips to match his pace inside you. He merely panted and did as he was told, his cock thrusting into you in deep, long, hard, strokes, each one having you see stars.

“I'm finishing inside, my love,” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your lips. You nodded, locking your legs around his hips. A move you'd never done in all the times he'd slept with you and something that made him gasp out in pleasure.

It only took a few more thrusts before he held his cock balls deep inside you, you could feel the length twitching as he filled you with seed. Each shot of his hot ejaculate hitting your walls and making your whimper. Light kisses were pressed against your forehead as the two of you were locked together. His cum and your honeyed wetness dripping from your hole.

When he pulled out, you kept your legs up a little longer, making sure Ajax saw every drop of his cum dripping from you. Your still needy twitching cunt, filled with a load, your delicate fingers rubbing your clit in slow circles while he watched. Your soft gasps and pants, trying not to draw Scara's attention while he was cleaning himself up in the connected bathroom. Both of you, putting on a show for each other. Him stroking his length from the base to the tip slowly, extenuating every inch and you dipping your fingers into your filled hole.

He continued jerking his cock while he watched you, nothing was said or spoken between you two, but your eyes conversated enough. This was pure desire. It was need. And when you came, it was for him. Your hips stuttered and bucked off the bed, toes curling almost painfully.

Childe came with you. Watching you finish while looking at him was more than enough. His hand was pressed against the door, scratching at the wood, begging to be let in so he could finish inside you as well, like he knew you wanted him to. But he didn't. His cock sprayed rope after rope of cum onto the floor of the hallway in front of him. His toned chest heaving as he watched himself make this mess.

You longed to lick it up, not just the cum, but his still aching cock. You wanted to clean it with your mouth, to suck it the way your husband made you. You knew he wanted more. But Scaramouche was already out of the bathroom, a towel in hand. He began cleaning you up between your legs, eyes seeming a little softer than normal while he did. A look that wasn't normal for him.

“You did well tonight,” he praised you. Fond words you'd never heard from him before, but likely because he had no idea why you were putting on such a show.

“Thank you, my lord,” you replied sheepishly, looking back up to the crack in the doorway, Childe was gone. It was better this way though. Better that he leave now than accidentally get the attention of your husband.

“I'll think of a reward for you tomorrow, but rest for now,” the candles were blown out and he laid next to you. A protective arm was wrapped around your waist as you lay on your back, trying to regulate your heartbeat.

Realization hit you like a truck, forming a sickening pit in your stomach. It was only now that you'd realized what you'd done and fear and worry were taking over. If Scara were to find out, he'd kill you. He'd do worse than kill you you supposed, ending your life would be much too easy

And you could only imagine what'd happen to Childe next.

You lay on your back in that inky black, pitch darkness, eyes trying to adjust to the light. You were feeling regretful, but you'd also never felt such a thrill in your entire life. Not since you got married.

#genshin #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #genshin impact #yandere childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere smut #yandere imagines #yandere #tw smut #smut #mdni

[after-witch]

To the Top [Yandere Chuuya x Reader]

Title: To the Top [Yandere Chuuya x Reader]

Synopsis: Over the past few months of your pregnancy, you’ve never been sweeter to Chuuya. Little does he know that for every smile you’ve given him, you’ve stashed away something for your escape. 

Word count: 3100ish

notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, reader is pregnant, abusive behavior  (chains, restrictions, food control, etc)

Life in this shut-up penthouse was never exactly invigorating--but over the past few months it has become unbearable. And that unbearable, stifling heaviness weighing you down every single day has taken its toll in more ways than one. 

It’s made you feel like you’re going to lose it at any moment. It’s made you feel like you’d rather be anywhere than here.

You want to get out.

Chuuya had rules for you, of course, when he first started keeping you here. They came slow--a leash that tightened before you realized it--and sure. 

But now, with your belly swollen and growing bigger by the day, he’s completely taken control. 

You’re not allowed to go outside, even with Chuuya, even surrounded by bodyguards ready to take a bullet or unload them into any would-be assassins. Those brief bouts of fresh air were one of the few bright spots in your life, now blotted out from Chuuya’s paranoia of losing you. 

You’re not allowed to use your exercise bike or take a swim in the heated indoor pool tucked in the basement. It doesn’t matter how much you argue that you should be exercising for the sake of your health, because Chuuya says he does let you exercise. According to him, anyway.

He only lets you do the mildest--and you do mean mildest--of aerobic exercises in the pool. Only under supervision, and the moment you look like you want to start leaning into the water and getting in a nice backstroke, Chuuya orders you out and you’d best comply if you ever want to see the pool again for the next 2 years.

You’re not allowed to eat whatever you want, even when your cravings feel like they’re going to eat you from the inside out. He doesn’t starve you, no, no, no. But you can’t have a big juicy cheeseburger topped with bacon and a side of onion rings, a heavenly concoction that makes you drool just to think of it. 

If you must have a burger, and it’s a big if--Chuuya allows you to eat a made-from-scratch ground turkey burger with low fat cheese and a side of mashed sweet potato (no butter, no extra salt!) all courtesy of the well-trained personal chef Chuuya hired to live in the building. 

They’re the reason you are eating three square meals and two snacks a day, and the reason each and every meal is perfectly designed to eat every nutrition goal. Everything you eat is always nutritious and sure, the food isn’t disgusting… but it’s not fucking fair, is it, that you can’t just eat what you want when you want. 

Chuuya insists you eat only the best of foods. He makes sure every meal comes with a little cup of medicine--prenatal vitamins and anything else the doctor thinks will help keep you safe during your pregnancy. 

He doesn’t let you run around or fret or clean or do much of anything at all. He doesn’t want you to exert yourself, he says. You can’t eat what you want or do what you want or go where you want. 

It’s all too much.

You fought at first. You argued. You pleaded. But it didn’t do anything but make Chuuya tighten his hold on you.

And that’s why you accept his rules now with the utmost of patience and sweetness that you can muster. Oh, you haven’t given in. You aren’t meekly submitting to Chuuya and agreeing that he surely knows what’s best for you.

You’re just biding your time for the day when you can get the hell out of here.

Besides, you needed a little bit of freedom if you were going to escape. And a little bit of freedom was all you were going to get.

Early on in the pregnancy, Chuuya kept you locked in the bedroom when he was away because you fought him too much. A chain around your ankle kept you from even trying to get out the bedroom door.

Yes, you were given food by a stoic bodyguard throughout the day and it wasn’t like you were left to fend for yourself, but still. It would be impossible to leave if you were stuck in the bedroom all day.

Now, though, Chuuya lets you walk around the penthouse when he’s gone. He allows the chef to premake some of your meals so that you can microwave them if he’s not here to feed you; you can watch a movie in the living room or take a nap on your shared bed or whatever you’d like, as long as it’s quiet and calming. 

Because you’re good, and you’ve behaved, and you let him do what’s best for you. 

It’s not a lot of freedom. But it’s enough to give you the chance to start stashing away supplies for your escape; it’s enough to give you the perfect moment to pretend to fall asleep on the sofa before Chuuya leaves one day, so you can look just in time to see the passcode he enters on the electronic lock attached to the front door.

It’s enough to put you on the path towards freedom. 

--

Chuuya paces back and forth so rapidly that you’re starting to feel a bit dizzy. There’s a framed picture of flowers--your favorite--on the wall behind him, and you focus on that to keep yourself steady. Chuuya… flowers… Chuuya… flowers. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t go tonight. I could send someone else for this.”

“Chuuya.” 

“Or I can send one of my guards to stay in the apartment while I’m gone. Just to be safe? Shit, I don’t know.” 

“Chuuya.”

“Fuck it, I’ll call it in, I’m not going--”

“Chuuya.”

He stops, and you take the opportunity to step forward and grasp both of his hands in yours. You pull them against your chest and watch as his expression goes from agitated and fretful to sweet, almost puppy-love. Every time you touch him without being told, it’s like you can see a sweet light spark in his eyes. Too bad you lost your spark a while ago. 

“Go,” you say, soft and sweet and so fake you wonder that he can’t see through it. “I’ll be fine. The building’s being guarded, and the door will be locked.” The tension begins to melt from his shoulders, and you continue. “Just come home safe, all right?”

His frown holds for only a moment more, then it splits into a grin.

“Yeah. Yeah… You’re right.” He lifts his hands, taking yours with them, so that he can press a short kiss to your knuckles. “I’ll be back in the early morning--don’t wait up for me, you two need your sleep. Got it?”

We won’t be here when you get back, you think. “I know. We’ll go to bed early,” you say. 

And then you lean forward and kiss him softly on the lips, your stomach brushing against him as you do. 

He expects a kiss whenever he leaves and you’re almost happy to give it, tonight, because you know it will be the last one he ever gets from you. 

--

You don’t act right away. You’re not stupid. It’s about 2 hours after he leaves that the plan is ready to set into motion. In the meantime, you’ve read and reread the same page of your book a thousand times; sweat has begun to cling to your back as your eyes dart from the page to the clock. 

The sensation of your stomach in knots is equaled only by the frenzy of activity inside your belly--you swear they can sense what’s going on. Can they feel how your heart has begun to race? Can they tell that your muscles are tense? That your ears are strained, listening for the sound of his footsteps, in case he changed his mind?

You’re thankful that you’re not alone when you finally retrieve your bag from its hiding spot. You’ve got supplies. Some cash, food, a few water bottles. Underwear, clothes--yours and the babies--and some of the baby things Chuuya has already picked up. A blanket, a package of bottles, in case he doesn’t take to the breast.

It’s not a lot. But it will be enough to get you through to safety and freedom, and that’s all that really matters.

The bag shifts on your shoulders as you stand at the door, heart pounding, breath coming in short puffs. The guards outside the door are doing their rounds--back and forth, stopping in front of the front door of the penthouse and again at the door of the elevator just a few steps away, then going round the corner to complete a circle. 

It takes them 15 seconds to walk down the hallway once they walk away from the elevator. And you have about 60 seconds to get from the front door into the elevator before they come back. Maybe 90 seconds, maybe 2 minutes, if they stop to chat. They don’t do that with any regularity, so it’s impossible to plan for it. So you don’t. 

Instead, you count, one hand on your belly, one hand poised above the numbers on the electronic lock. It makes a noise so you have to wait to just… the right… time…

Now.

Despite all of the careful planning that went into this, as soon as your fingers press the code in, all thinking seems to cease. You are running on pure instinct. The door opens and you don’t even look to make sure the guards aren’t there, instead you fly right to the elevator door and push down.

It could all go wrong here. If someone is in the elevator, if someone is coming up from the floors, if the elevator didn’t return to the top after Chuuya left.

But the door has mercy and opens right away, and you rush into it, almost tripping over the threshold. Your finger trembles onto the close door button and it shuts. You don’t hear shouts. You don’t hear panic.

They didn’t see you.

Timing, again, is everything. You press the fifth floor so that the elevator will stop there long enough for the guards at the bottom to--you hope, you hope, you hope, if you timed it right--be around the corner as well. But there’s no telling if your timing is correct here. Maybe they don’t leave the doors at all, on the bottom floor. Maybe there are more guards, maybe they take shifts. All these maybes ball up in your stomach and take the air out of you as the elevator reaches the ground floor and opens.

You rush out without looking, but no one is there. You’re at the private back entrance and you don’t waste time thinking about how lucky you are or what to do next; you simply push yourself out the door and begin to run down the street.

It doesn’t take long for your feet to hurt. The house slippers Chuuya gives you are not meant for concrete, not meant for uneven sidewalks where people occasionally drop glass bottles and cigarette butts. 

You don’t let the pain stop you. You never have before. 

As you run, solid thoughts finally begin to return to your mind, which feels less fuzzy and more aware of the danger that you might be in. You did it. You’re out. You’re gone. You’re free. 

But not just yet, right? You need to stay hidden. You need to be safe.  You need, above all, to get off the highly visible streets. 

A sign for a bus stop catches your eye. Yes--a bus. You could let it take you as far as it will, and then go from there. But the sign says the bus stops on the hour, and there’s still 30 minutes to go--you can’t stay out on the street that long.

Instead, you slip into an alley just a little bit away from the sign. It’s close enough that you could press yourself against a wall and still keep an eye out for when the bus arrives. Will it be comfortable? No. Will it be smelly? Probably. Will you be out of public view? Yes--so that’s what you do.

You slip into the alley and immediately every nerve on your body raises because there is someone here with you.

No. Scratch that.

Two someones.

There is a man standing that you can only see from behind. He is shrouded in the shadows of the alleyway’s end, which isn’t lit by anything but the hint of light from the street. 

And there is a man on the ground, pressed against the farthest end of the alley, begging for his life. You only catch some of the words that tumble out of his desperate lips: I didn’t betray you, I swear, I swear, I can tell you everything you need to know, it wasn’t me, oh please, fuck, I swear--

And then he doesn’t speak anymore because the first man shoots him in the head. He falls backward and something hits the wall and you can't help the noise of startled horror that slips out of your mouth.

The man turns around, gun drawn, and you have just enough time to think--this is it--before he steps forward. 

And… says your name?

The man is Chuuya.

The man is Chuuya, who holsters his gun and, mouth gaping, has his hands on you before you can even think about running. He’s checking you over--for bruises or cuts or who knows what else--and his grip on your forearm is relentlessly strong. 

“What the fuck? What the fuck?” He says, not believing the sight of you, even as he touches you. “Babe, what’s wrong? Did something happen? Where’s--”

And then he sees the bag slung over your shoulder. Sees how full it looks. He glances down at your stomach. Then back  up at your face.

“You were trying to leave?”

The hurt on his face might induce pity, if you weren’t currently dealing with the most horrific adrenaline rush in the world. 

“No,” you sputter. “Yes. No. I--” 

And it’s then that your body and mind crash together, and the realization that you’ve been caught catches up with you. You should run. You will run. 

And you try, but it’s a lost cause. You don’t even have enough leverage to take a step back with how tightly he’s holding you. Your mind knows this, but your body doesn’t accept it quite yet, and you squirm fruitlessly against him.

He only needs one hand to keep you by his side as he takes out his phone and barks out an order at someone to come take care of the body of the poor dead man in the alley.

Then he looks back at you and hurt, fear, anger, play out on his face in a series of moments. 

“We’re going,” he tells you. He’s back on his phone, another order. A car to pick you up. 

His voice promises locked doors and lost privileges, yes, but there’s something else simmering in there that has you yanking back feebly as he drags you out of the alley and into an unmarked car.

--

Every guard Chuuya crosses stammers out apologies, swears they don’t know how this happened. Chuuya deals with them in clipped tones that make you wonder if they’ll survive the night. Reassigned, if they’re lucky.

The penthouse is just as you left it. Quiet. Clean. A now runny smoothie, fortified with vitamins and calculated with the perfect natal nutrients, sits on the counter; you didn’t drink it tonight.

Chuuya drags you through to the bedroom. All this time, he hasn’t let go of your hand. There will be finger-shaped bruises tomorrow.

You expect him to scream at you. Maybe even hurt you. A physical slap might hurt less than this all-consuming fear as he pulls you into the bedroom and gently guides you to sit down on the bed. What will he do? What will he say?

Your hand grasps your belly--please don’t hurt me.

Chuuya growls out bubbling anger, turns, and punches the wall so hard that his fist goes through the drywall. His knuckles have freckles of blood on them.

The sound, the sight of the blood, the anger pressing down on your shoulders--it’s all too much and hot tears spill over your lower eyelids and down your cheeks, salty, burning. 

He’s on his knees, immediately, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pressing kisses to your tear-stained cheeks.

“Babe, I’m sorry--I didn’t mean to scare you.” He hushes your hiccuping sobs, wiping and kissing your tears in alternate measures. “I was just so fucking mad.” 

At me? You think. 

“Those guards,” he continues, frowning. “They weren’t watching you like they should.”

“But I…” You don’t finish: But I’m the one who ran away.

Your confusion must show on your face, because he presses a kiss to your cheek, to your lips. 

“Hush. I know you’re prone to fits like this. I don’t mind. It’s why I do so much to watch over you, y’know?” He rubs at your cheeks with this thumb and cracks a smile. From the corner of your eye,  you can see the blood on his knuckles. “It was either the wall or one of those guys’ heads, right?” 

He doesn’t wait for an answer as he kisses you, more lingering this time.

“You make me crazy,” he whispers against your lips. “You know that?”

“Chuuya,” you whisper, breath mingling with this. “Please, I want to… I want to…” Leave. Be free. All words you could say, that never make their way past your lips.

He sits up taller on his knees and rests his head against your stomach. There’s a flurry of movement inside you--does the baby know he’s there? What does the baby, in all its primordial growth, think of any of today’s events?

“I know it’s scary,” Chuuya murmurs. “You don’t have to tell me. We’re about to be parents. Anyone would be worried.” 

That’s not what you wanted to say. It’s hard to say if Chuuya knows it and pretends otherwise or simply doesn’t acknowledge your resistance at all. 

He sighs through his nose and closes his eyes.

“I’ll have to bring the chain back out for a while. Maybe until the baby comes.” He opens his eyes just a little and glances up at you with a smile. “But I can make it long enough for you to walk around. Doctor said you needed to stretch your legs every day, babe.”

He closes his eyes again and you don’t know what else you can do but reach out and rest your palm against his head. He leans into your touch.

“I know,” you croak out. There’s a few beats--of your heart?--and your fingers curl against his hair. “I’m sorry I went outside.” What else can you do, but lean into Chuuya, but apologize for doing what he insists you never do. Leave him, be free, live your own life.

He sighs and nuzzles himself against your stomach. He presses a soft kiss to it before pulling himself off the floor, leaning down, and kissing you on the head.

“I know, babe. Don’t worry. I’m not mad.”

You wonder what Chuuya might have done if he had gotten angry at you.

Perhaps it’s better not to know.

#yandere chuuya #yandere bungou stray dogs #yandere bsd #yandere #afterwitch writes

[yoonlattehorse]

♡Dazai NSFW headcannons♡

✎ 𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕟𝕤𝕗𝕨 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤 𝕓𝕒𝕤𝕖𝕕 𝕠𝕟 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕝𝕖𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕟𝕒𝕞𝕖! 18+𝕄𝕕𝕟𝕚 ◇

*・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆・゜・*:.。.*.。.:*・☆ .

O- oral: I honestly think, he prefers to give rather than to receive, its just such good stressrelief to him! How could he pass a chance to fiest and absolutely devour your pretty pussy? He'd only whine if you didn't let him, clinging and holding onto you until you'd grant him a taste, which obviously ends in making you cum atleast once on his tounge... he would tease you at first, dragging his wet tounge ever so slowly around your pussy, leaving your poor swollen clit without any attention. You would have to earn it first, pretty mewls and broken pleas falling from your mouth until you finally, finally get what you deserve.. Dazai would huff with amusement against your cunt, only sending vibrations against your sensitive pussy, as you grip his hair hard, when he finally dives in, tounge lapping your swollen nub. He'd know exactly what to do, how you like it, taking note of the smallest shivers, of what makes you squirm and moan. Dazai would close his mouth around your small clit, gently suckling it, occasionally letting the tip of his tounge graze that bundle of nerves softly. He'd finger you in the process, before going all in, his mouth devouring your cunt, messily eating you out like the starved man he is, groaning against your sweet pussy when you tug his soft brown locks harshly- he doesn't mind. If anything he enjoys it, your taste, the way your legs start shaking as you get closer to your high. Oh, what he'd give to get choked between your thighs-the sweetest death imaginable to him. He'd squeeze the plush of your thigh eagerly, pushing them apart for better access. Once you're approaching your orgasm Dazai would only grip your thighs harder, push his face against your pussy more, relishing the sound of your louder growing moans and squelched noises of his sloppy tounge against your cunt, before making you cum all over his mouth, until you're all spent and happy.

S- Size: He's got some nice length to him, definetly longer than average, not too thick though, just enough to give you a nice stretch. His fat tip flushes the prettiest pink when he's worked up, oozing salty pre-cum, just waiting to be tasted. His cock feels heavy on your tounge, and although he prefers to give oral rather than to receive, he'd never decline a good sucky-suck from you, when youre all pretty on your knees for him. His balls are heavy, waiting to shoot his creamy load all over you, inside of you..

A- Asshole (how mean is he in bed?): Oh, he definetly enjoys torturing you from time to time- he's just an asshole, that's who he is- and although he's usually extremely sweet and attentive, whispering sweet nothings into your your ear, about how well you take him, how tight and warm you are, give him some time and you'll find yourself with this: he'll spank you, deny you of orgasms only to overestimate you completely afterwards, hes mean. He chuckles as he denies you of yet another orgasm. You've lost count of how many it's been, coos of false sympathy coming from him as he nuzzles you softly. Poor you, tears glittering in your eyes as you feel your next orgasm approach. Even his words, usually full of praise, turn into words of degradation as he pounds into you. "Look at what a slut you are.. bouncing on my cock like I havent just fucked you yesterday... what a horny cockslut.." He enjoys it, smirking mirthfully as he watches you squirm as he finally, let's you cum.

M- Mirrorsex: Definetly something Dazai would be into. Just the thought of fucking you infront of a mirror gets him rock-hard. He'd hold you, fucking you in different position as he makes sure every thrust is visible, the way his dick enters your pussy, fucking you hard. You flush, watching yourself get yourself get railed by that sexy brunnette behind you. Laughing breathily, Dazai would drown in the sight of you, face all blissed out, tits bouncing, your pussy taking him so well, practically gripping his dick. He'd make you to look at that mesmerizing sight too, both of your bodies softly illuminated by the warm light in the room.

U- Unknown fact about them in bed: Hear me out on this one: Dazai loves getting choked. I don't think this should come as a huge surprise to anyone, considering his Canon reaction when Kunikida/Chuuya/Odasaku choke him (it literally says he was 'blissed out') and although he prefers being in charge in bed, (I can't really see him as a bottom considering how uncomfortable he is being vulnerable in that way), this manwhore, wishes no more than to be choked by your pretty hands. He's most blissed out when your hands-or thighs- close around his throat squeezing him, bonus if your bouncing on his cock in the process, like he'll whine and cum in seconds if you do that. Honestly, he's such a shameless slut when it comes to that, like he'll gladly be bottom if it means getting choked by you.

D- Drive: I would say his sex drive is fairly high, like, he's horny all the time. Even at times when he's not the first one to be horny out of the two of you, it really doesn't take much for him to get hard and leaking. He can go on for hours in bed, like this man has stamina, he'd last multiple rounds definetly. He'd fuck you on his cock until youre a dumb slut, babbling nonsense, and he doesnt care how long that takes! He usually only stops because his darling is completely spent from his cock♡ otherwise he'd go for more rounds.

A- Aftercare: To be honest, a lot of people say that he would be great at aftercare but I think he's ass at it lmao. Take one look at this man and tell me he's good at taking care of you after sex.. if you're just a casual hookup, I doubt he'd put any effort into aftercare at all, don't get me wrong, he fucks like a pro, but aftercare...? If anything, he might like it if you take care of him. If you are in an established relationship, which is something that a guy like Dazai is not going to get into unless he's so utterly selfishly head over heels with you, then I do believe he'd try to put effort into aftercare, even if it's unlike him. Like he'll clean you up with a damp cloth, bring soft new clothes to wear and maybe make you tea.

Z- Zzz (how fast does he fall asleep after the deed?): Pretty fast, if you're in a relationship, he'd make sure that you're taken care of a bit first, but it doesn't take long until he's out like a light.. and believe me, with the way he's rearranged your insides, you're pretty fast to fall asleep too, he just fucked you that well♡

A- Anal: Ooh, he's definetly down to it, as long you're down to it too, of course..! He'd first make sure that his cock is nicely coated with lube or your juices, before slowly pushing into your hole. He's a stretch, and long, so it takes a moment to get used to, but once he starts circling your pretty, sensitive, little clit while drilling in and out of you, you're in heaven... you'd moan uncontrablly, milking Dazais cock completely dry while he murmurs sweet praises- or words of humiliation, into your ear.

I-Intimacy: (how intimate is he?): I dont think he is an intimate person per se. This is just my opinion, and we've seen over and over again that Dazai is someone who although, knows his way with people, he seems to really struggle to express himself in those more heartfelt moments. Like he's so clumsy with it..! That also applies during sex, he'd probably just fuck you senseless in a way that you'd have no place left to think about the intimate parts of sex, and/or put some sort of 'barrier' between the two of you, like not taking off his bandages, acting overly jovial/light-hearted and acting completely in control. I think these are all very in-character things for Dazai to do and when we look at the close relationships he's had (especially with Odasaku and Ango), he never expressed their bonds and deep friendship explicitly, especially not verbally. THAT DOES NOT MEAN HE DOESNT CARE ABOUT ANYONE! he cares a lot. He just doesn't speak like that. Yes, he does act silly, jovial and carefree, but it shown multiple times throughout bungo stray dogs, that he doesn't act in that manner without any reason and often his behavior even serves to cover some sinister stuff beneath the surface.... so before I go on a rant about this let's get pack to the point lol: Dazai would not act super intimately, especially of you're not close yet, so don't expect any "I love you"s during sex in the beginning. I do think once he is truly in love with you he'll warm up a bit more to being vulnerable and intimate, and give you the world. Literally.♡ (take one look at beast!) So in a nutshell: the amount of Intimacy he shares with you depends on how close you are and how comfortable he is with being vulnerable.

(ノ^∇^)Hii, I hope you liked this, I'm planning on doing more characters soon..! Sorry that I got carried away in the last part, I'll probably make a separate post on Dazai and his relationship with intimacy/vulnerability in different contexts.

.·´¯`·->Also, sorry for any english mistakes!<-·´¯`·.

#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bsd smut #dazai smut #dazai x reader smut #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai x reader smut #osamu dazai smut

[lightwing-s]

𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐑

pairing: dick grayson x fem! reader

summary: as an intern at the police department you should know how to separate work from personal life, but when officer dreamy comes after you, you can't help it but mix them together

rating: 18+ (MDNI)

word count: 6,2k warnings: unprotected sex, cum eating, handjob (f receiving), slight overstimulation, a lot of pinning for each other

a/n: i gave up proof reading halfway because i was sleepy, so it might be okay at first and then become messy. sorta base on my experience working at a police precinct earlier this year, but not faithful (at all) to reality.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

⌜masterlist⌟ ⌜requests⌟

Jumping off the last step down the bus, you rush into the streets, swerving through the crowds, bumping against people, getting sworn at by some, and somehow managing your way through the busy mess that was Gotham’s early mornings.

The headphones glued to your ear were the only thing trying to distract you from all the chaos that was the start of your day, but as the shuffle merged bossa nova into 2000s punk rock, you felt your body react and jump into a faster pace on your way to work. Within each step, the Greek columns of the old imposing building of the Gotham City’s Police Department grew bigger in the horizon, letting you know your commute was close to its end.

Beep beep, your watch announced the start of your shift. Damn it, you were late again. Trying to speed up your steps, you felt your calves start to burn, but the building soon was right in front of you, a couple of steps separating you both.

“Good morning, Yn.” greeted one of the officers, as you passed by him in a rush, as you made your way up the large steps without somehow managing to trip as he was bound somewhere else, already deep into the rash routine of being a police officer at the country’s most dangerous city.

Bursting through the doors, you look around to see if your supervisor, officer McCaffrey, was anywhere near. He hated you and had been on your ass since you started arriving a bit later than you were supposed to, a move further away from the precinct ruining your commute times.

Not seeing his growing bald head anywhere around, you jump ahead and find your way to your desk, stacked with piles and piles of papers, old cases handed to you to be typed and launched into this new software funded by Mr. Bruce Wayne.

Interning at a police station wasn’t exactly a part of your meticulously drawn up plan to get into law school, as law enforcement was on the far bottom of your list of possible careers to choose for your future. However, from day one you were surprised by how much you enjoyed working at the department, by how much you enjoyed the people, both your co-workers and, weirdly, the criminals you got to meet on a daily basis. 

Sometimes it was too much, juggling school work and the internship, plus all the side hustles you had to take just to make it through college without starving to death. But it all had its good sides. Sometimes, some really good ones.

Placing your bag over the pile of cases, you were about to go around your desk and sit down on the rather uncomfortable chair to start typing those damned cases away, when the rough voice of the main antagonist of this current season of your life reached your ears. 

“Miss, Ys,” your supervisor called. Rolling your eyes, you forced yourself to remain still, a lot of effort put into not throwing your head back in defeat as you turned around to meet face of your tormentor for the first time that day. “Thought you started your program at…” he dragged himself out, looking at his clock. “Exactly fifteen minutes ago.”

“Hello, officer McCaffrey.” you forced out a smile while greeting him. “Well, I was here fifteen minutes ago, you must have missed me.”

You confidently tried to lie, hoping the time spent with suspected criminals had taught you something, but being sure your face must have told him the opposite of what you meant. “I’m pretty sure I looked all over for you.”

“Are you sure?” you feigned innocence when trying once more.

“Miss Yn, this is a serious institution and if you’re not going to cooperate by doing your job properly I’m sorry to inform you that…” 

“You won’t need it, Christian.” a deeper voice cut your supervisor off as he started to scold you again. The voice, a tone you could easily identify from how much you’d heard it and dreamed of it in the past few months. “I stopped Miss Yn outside for a talk. I did not think there would be any problem.”

Sounding much more confident in his lie than you did, you were sure you could’ve fallen for it if it wasn’t of you he was talking about.

“Officer Grayson, Miss Ys has got a job to finish, she doesn’t need to go around having conversations with what I imagine are busy policemen.” officer Tormentor replied, not even caring to turn around and face the other voice’s owner, disdain covering each and everyone of his words.

“We were just discussing a case, it’s not that big of a deal. Right, Yn?” Officer Grayson called you by your first name along with a wink, the remaining energy left from not rolling your eyes at officer McCaffrey earlier keeping you from melting at how sweet your name sounded coming out of his mouth. 

McCaffrey finally turned to face your white night in a white button-up, only his back in your line of view now as you were still paralyzed in your spot, the image of Officer Grayson trapping your attention from anything else in the precinct.

“Dick,” your supervisor continued, the name sounding off of him like an annoyance. ”You’re not supposed to share confidential information with the students.” He told him bitterly.

“Aren’t they here to learn about our job, Christian?” Officer Grayson replied, the same annoyance playing on his tongue, but at the same time full of an uplifting fun only Dick Grayson could master and that you were sure only annoyed Christian more.

Facing the sudden silence between you three, you noticed Officer Grayson’s eyebrow raising, challenging his fellow officer to complain about you one more time.

“Sure, but…”

“I was doing just that, making sure Yn’s internship actually brings some value to her future.” Grayson cut him once more. “No sensitive information was shared, just the look of an investigation through a detective’s eye. And even so, miss Yn is one of the most competent interns we’ve had in a while and I’m sure she would’ve been able to keep any information she might’ve gotten. I’m sure talking with actual officers is much more beneficial than typing old cases into a system.”

Silence overcame you three again, Grayson’s words having a certain impact on you. Your shoes, stained and in desperate need of a wash, suddenly became interesting as you lowered your face to hide the burning red on your cheeks. The insides of your lips were chewed on, stopping the smile from spreading on your face.

Finally looking up, your eyes briefly met Officer Grayson’s, but you moved away quickly, afraid of what they might’ve done to you. 

Officer McCaffrey opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, his mind certainly trying to muster a comeback to Grayson’s defense of you but clearly failing to do so. His eyes moved from you to his coworker, and you wondered what was going through his head.

Whatever it was, it would never live up to Officer Dick Grayson. He just never would.

“Very well,” McCaffrey finally spoke, turning to face you with a displeased expression. “Get on with your typing.”

Turning on his heel, McCaffrey walked away from the two of you, the hardness of his hips making his walk look funny and with the bald spot growing in his head the both of you let out a soft chuckle.

Resting your butt on the desk behind you, the need of formality gone with your supervisor, you took this time to eye up the man left with you. 

That man didn’t have a bad looking day, showing up like a greek god every single day at work. He wore his usual white button-up shirt, rolled up to his elbows and exposing his thick forearms, built effortlessly at the gym - you were sure -, and decorated with veins you secretly wanted to map with your fingertips. 

He wore gray pants today, a color he often varied with either dark blue, black or beige, but the latter, thankfully, becoming rarer with each passing day. It didn’t compliment him, making his look rather boring in your opinion, nor did it match well with any of his shoes, probably more expensive than anything you owned. 

His badge and gun hang on his hips, held on the black belt made of the most sophisticated leather in the world, or so you’d bet. He seemed to take good care of himself, as not only his skin glistened like a glazed donut, but he exuded a strong woody smell, following him along to every room he entered.

However, the lack of a tie and the untidy hair signaled to you he might’ve been just as late as you were. And still, he looked majestic. The highlight of your long hours at the precinct.

“Hello, officer Grayson.” you greeted him shyly. You certainly should not have spent too much of your days simply just watching him go on about his work, but it was a habit you had created and that was hard not to do, his simple presence was enough to overwhelm you.

“Good morning, Yn. Haven’t had an easy morning, I see?” he raised his eyebrow at you this time, a playful smiling playing on his face. 

“You too, right?” slipped out of your mouth quicker than you’d wished, almost slapping your face out of sheer frustration.

His head bent to the side, a question forming on his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, but soon returning to the playful expression you were used to. “I see your detective skills have been improving.”

“I-I just noticed you’re not wearing a t-tie like you usually do and your hair seems messy, that’s all.” you said without pausing for air and his smile only seemed to grow.

“Relax, Yn,” he dragged out. “I just had to stay up till late last night. What’s your excuse?”

“Commuting has been hell. I just moved to a new apartment.” you told him, nodding for absolutely no reason. He didn’t seem pleased with your answer, eagerly waiting for you to continue. “At the Amusement Mile.”

“Amusement Mile?!” he exclaimed. “That’s basically on the other side of the city.”

Yep, you worded, or not. You were not sure.

“And really dangerous, Yn.” he sounded worried. “Make sure to not leave too late, okay?”

“I’ll try.” you replied, but he still didn’t seem pleased. “I promise?”

You were not sure what kind of tone this conversation had. You and Officer Grayson had always been friendly, as he always came by your desk to wish you a good day or night, to bring you coffee as he did with his coworkers, or to ask you about how classes were going and if the internship wasn’t getting in the way of your studies.

It all sounded friendly to you, as if he only saw you as a younger sister or something like that. Sadly to you, that seemed to be a reality. But today, the friendliness sounded less friendly, for some reason, or maybe they were just the voices of hope playing with your mind.

“Good, I’ll have to work now, and I think so do you. Having fun with typing?”

“It really could be worse.” You joked, bringing out a laugh from him, filling your ears and making your heart pump faster.

“Have a nice day, Yn.” 

“You too, officer.” you eagerly replied, watching as he too walked away from you.

Finally sitting down on your chair, you let out a huge sigh, Officer Dreamy, as you kindly nicknamed him to yourself, stuck in your head. You knew it was inappropriate to harvest a crush on a superior at work, but gosh was it hard to.

“And Yn?” his voice startled you. 

“Hmm” you managed to hum as you found his head poking out from behind a wall.

“Call me Dick.”

Lights went off one by one around you, as you still sat on your desk, files of cases long forgotten, while you typed in a class project you were due very soon. 

As life worked conspired to put you down, your laptop had given up on you, deciding that the smokey life was the way to go now and simply choosing not to work ever again. So, you had to stick around the precinct or the library till the wee hours of the night if you wanted to get any uni work done.

“Yn” a voice called you, starling you out of your seat. “Still here?”

Officer Grayson, looking as tired as you must have looked, made his way to your desk. In his hands, some papers you’d come to know were cases he took frequently to study at home.

“I have to finish an essay.” you informed, voice almost not making it out, as you had neglected your health and hadn’t gotten a single sip of water all day.

“What happened to your computer? I remember you bringing one before.”

“Decided to give out smoke signals, I guess.” you joked, managing to steal a smile from him. “It broke, and I’m too broke to fix it, so I have to stay here if I want to finish this essay tonight.”

Your eyes itched from the extensive exposure to the computer lights, your back also causing you discomfort. But you still had work to do, so there was no way you were leaving any time soon, and quickly you returned your attention to your essay ignoring, for once, your favorite male presence in the precinct as you didn’t want to miss the peak of energy and creativity you had gotten to.

As you typed unaware of his lingering presence, Officer Grayson stood by your desk for a while, watching as you swiftly typed word after word of your homework. “You aren’t going to stay here till too late, right?”

“I’m not sure.” you moaned, rubbing your eyes with the palm of your hands. “I really have to finish this but I’m not even close.”

Returning your gaze to him, you found his eyes and they bore into your, making your breath get caught up in your throat and your heart to skip a beat. You wanted to focus on your school work and go home, get some much needed sleep before starting your routine all over again, but Dick’s mere presence  pushed away all your academic thoughts.

It was like his body irradiated an energy, a gravity field, that pulled you in from wherever you were. That trapped your attention, leaving you breathless even though you hadn’t run, leaving your head heavy as the most painful headache, leaving you completely, deeply, under his spell.

As you focused on him, you noticed the bags forming under his eyes and his much messier hair, as if he had, and he did, spent hours running his fingers through it as an attempt to concentrate. His clothes were ruffled, and you swore his belt seemed to have been loosed at some point during the day. 

To you, he was like a painting at an art gallery. Exquisite, expensive, beautifully breathtaking… and forever unreachable.

On a scale from one to ten, you were minus forty in the levels of importance inside the department. Nobody really cared for the interns. They were nice and all, but they knew they wouldn’t last long, so why bother connecting, why bother giving them too much attention. And yet, officer Grayson would come over to you, every single day, saying his “his” and “goodbyes”, wishing you a good morning, a good night, a great weekend.

He was truly a being out of this world. A gentleman amongst mere humans, too kind, too sweet for this world, for this city. You often wondered how the hell did he, the son of a billionaire, end up working with the police, and the answered you always came up with was that he must have been the only truly good and altruistic person alive, opting to care for the people instead of being a pretentious heir like many others.

If he had looked over at your computer screen, he’d have found a soup of words that together made zero sense, as your mind couldn’t only write Dick Dick Dick Dick, in both meanings of the word.

“A-hem.” he coughed breaking your awkward stare competition. “I have to get going, Yn. Please don’t stay up too late, and message me when you get home.”

“I don’t have your number.” you mindlessly blurted out.

“I have yours,” he stated, catching you off guard. “I’ll text you. See you tomorrow?” he asked, seeming actually interested in a positive answer.

“Uh-huh.”

“See you, then. Goodbye, Miss Ys.”

“Goodbye, officer.”

It was past midnight when you eventually turned off your computer and headed out of the police department. Sleepiness weighs your body down, making each step a harder task than it should've been.

Saying your goodbyes to the officers working the night shift, many of those telling you to be careful as they feared the dangerous Gotham nights would turn you into one more of its victims, you made your way down the large set of steps, an activity much easier than climbing them in the morning.

As you step into the sidewalk you’re embraced by the darkness. The cold breeze hitting you, making you wrap your jacket tightly around your body, a shield from the freezing weather and the demons of the night. Your bag is glued to your hips and your eyes scanning the area for any strange movement.

You’re glad some of those police officers had been kind enough to teach you how to realize some signs before anything bad happens, applying it to your everyday life as you could never be sure of your surroundings in this city.

When you turned right on the first corner, a moving shadow had your neck hairs up and a shiver running up your spine. Your fight or flight instincts overcoming you as your steps grew faster and faster.

“Yn, wait!” you heard the shadow owner scream, your heart skipping a beat before your mind could make up the situation. It took you a while to figure out who the scream belonged to, the fear blinding your senses and preventing you from forming any type of judgment, but something in you clicked and upon turning around it everything was all made clear.

“Officer Grayson?” you questioned, confused by his appearance as he had gone home almost two hours earlier. He now wore a pair of dark gray or black sweatpants, the faint light hindering your perception, a black t-shirt and a thick overall to shield him from the cold. The tips of his hair dripped with a few droplets of water, and even in the darkness you could make up his red nose gifted by the freezing weather. 

He looked cozy, huggable, like a plushie pillow you hugged to go to bed. This look on him made your chest warm up and you swore you wouldn’t need a jacket soon.

“Why are you following me? Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry if I scared you, Yn. I thought it’d be better if I didn’t scream, but maybe I was wrong,” he apologized, rushing the words out of his mouth.

“I just didn’t expect to see you here.” you smiled, unable to hide the joy from seeing him again. Your smile made him feel less bad for scaring you, but his eyes still looked into yours like he apologized for it. 

“I didn’t get your text.” he said, his statement confusing you a little. “That you were going home?”

Oh, that! It was your turn to feel bad, your cheeks, if possible for him to see, painted red but not from the coldness.

“I was expecting your text and didn’t get it, so I showered and came here to see if you’d gone home and I found you still in your computer. I was waiting for you to come out.”

YOU WERE WAITING FOR ME?!, you wanted to scream, his words making your head spin, trying to work out the reason why they came out of his pretty lips. The idea of him waiting for god knows how long till you finished your essay making you dizzy.

“It didn’t feel right letting you go home alone at this hour.” he continued to explain, seemingly aware of the questions inside your head. “So I came back after taking a shower to pick you up.”

HE CAME BACK. HE WENT HOME. TOOK A SHOWER, A SHOWER HE PROBABLY, DEFINITELY, TOOK NAKED. AND CAME BACK TO PICK ME UP????

Oh lord, your head was truly spinning and you hoped you weren’t dizzy enough to end up falling and making a fool of yourself. No single sentence was merged in your mind, your lips blurting out whatever overcame them without any filter: “The subway isn’t empty.”

He chuckled at your silly response and reaching for his coat’s pocket, he picked up his car keys, shaking them in front of your eyes. “Are you declining a ride home? Thought you’d love to ride in a Porsche tonight.”

At the sound of “Porsche”, you let out an excited giggle. You always wanted to find out what car Dick drove, a man’s choice of vehicle being a way into understanding his lifestyle and tastes, and not only were you finding out now but you were also getting to ride in it with him.

“I think it’s an offer I can’t really let pass.”

Showing you the way to his car with his head, he let you walk past him, and when you did his hand met your waist as he guided you in its direction. 

It was like you entered into another reality when you crossed the Police Department’s doors, meeting an Officer Dick Grayson that you always dreamed of but never expected to become a reality.

The warm touch of his hand on the small of your back gave you shivers along with a sense of safety not even a room full of police officers had given you. It was different, somehow, in a way you found hard to explain, but that made your heart beat nervously, your breathing to get hectic and your stomach to take turns.

Soon, the silvery car was beside you and the man opened the passenger door for you with his free hand. You thanked him and slid inside the car, the warmed leather seats a comfortable welcome after hours spent on the painful cheap chair by your desk, and when he closed the door you took the few seconds until he was sat beside you to at least try to recollect yourself.

Richard John Grayson isn’t just giving you a ride, he came all the way from his home to do so. You didn’t know where he lives, but it couldn’t be too close. He went out of his way to do that for you, and what that meant frightened you a little.

The warmness of the seats couldn’t compare to what his touch had made you feel. As his hand slid off of your skin you let out a low moan you hoped he didn’t have the time to listen to, already missing the feeling he had given you.

It made you both afraid, nervous and excited, and you couldn’t help the smile from spreading on your lips, even when biting down on them or chewing the insides of your cheeks. You sat still, spine straight and hands resting on top of your bag laid up on your lap, while he calmly walked to the driver’s side, the opposite reflection of how he made you feel.

“Amusement Mile?” he looked at you for confirmation, the engine of the car warming up. Your eyes were glued to his every movement, admiring every single breath he took.

You simply shook your head to answer, biting on your bottom lip in contemplation.

“It’s gonna be a long ride, so make yourself comfortable.” he told you before continuing. “And I almost forgot…”

Reaching for something behind your seat, you felt his breath on your neck, sending more shiver up your spine, a recurring thing tonight. “I got you some soup. To warm up.”

“Wow. Thank you, officer.”

“Yn?” he called you and you hummed, letting him continue. “What did I tell you to call me?”

“I’m sorry.” you apologized, remembering the moment you’d shared earlier. “Thank you, Dick.”

“Perfect.” 

Turned just enough to face you, it was his time to bite on his lip, the sight sending your hormones to overdrive. 

The ride was mostly silent, as you both felt comfortable in just each other’s presence. You drank your soup and he drove carefully to not make it spill. He left his playlist on shuffle and you commented on a few surprising tunes.

“I didn’t take you for a reggaeton kind of guy.”

“Hey, I appreciate the sounds of many different cultures!”

 And faster than you had wished for, you two were parked by your front door.

“Thank you, offic… Dick, really. I would have taken at least double the time to arrive by subway, so I really cannot thank you enough for this, you really didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense, I’m always here to help, and I wouldn’t sleep well knowing you could be in danger.”

For the 1000th time tonight, your cheeks grew scarlet and you avoided Dick’s eyes. The yawn coming out of you the perfect getaway from the situation you didn’t not know how to handle.

“I better get going, or else I’m just gonna take a nap before having to go back to the precinct all over again.” you sent him a smile before opening the door, but before you stepped outside you felt his hand touch you again, this time reaching for you tight.

“If you want to, I can pick you up tomorrow morning.” his thumb lightly drew patterns in your jeans, and you could feel a hit of sweat on the palm of his hands and the spot on your tight grew humid.

“It would be asking for too much.”

“No it wouldn’t.” he didn’t wait for you to finish. “I’d love to.”

He had your full attention, his eyes trapping yours in a drunken haze. The air around you got thicker, warmer, too hot, as if the winter night was just a mere illusion outside the car. You had sat back in your seat, not sure if the door was open or closed because only him mattered now, only his eyes drifting from yours to your lips, only his tongue moistening his own, only the slow movement of his head getting closer to yours.

You wouldn’t remember the next few seconds even if described to you in the smallest details, you just remember meeting his lips halfway. At first, a hasty kiss, your lips barely moving but already igniting you with an electric feeling. His teeth pulled on your bottom lip, causing a moan to escape off of you.

His hand went to your neck and the kiss deepened, his tongue immediately sliding inside your mouth, playing with yours as your hands found his waist in search for balance, even though you remained at your seat.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” you cut the kiss, your own mind betraying you with the words that flew out of your mouth. “But I really want to.”

“I don’t see why we shouldn't,” he said, connecting your lips once again. 

He sucked and nibbled at your lips, certainly leaving small bruises on it, but who were you to complain. All night, your anxiousness tried to get the best of you, but his kiss and his touch held you hostage in a passionate haze.

“It’s dangerous to be on the streets this late.” he told you between kisses.

“We can go upstairs.” you offered, wanting to extend the moment as much as you could.

“I wouldn’t wanna bother your roommate.”

“I don’t have a roommate.” you informed, eyes meeting his once more in search of confirmation.

Kissing where your neck met your ears, he whispered. “I’ll park the car.”

“You can leave it right here.” you moaned, desperately wanting to move things inside. He chuckled, pulled you in for another kiss and then quickly jumped out of the car. He followed you as you climbed the stairs to your floor, managing to control himself and stay far enough as to not throw you against the walls and fuck you right then and there, but the gentleman inside of him held him together and he anxiously watched you unlock your apartment door.

You threw your bag somewhere, and walked inside your home aimlessly. You didn’t bring many guys over, so you always struggled to figure out what to do at this point.

“Yn.” you heard Dick calling, spinning on your heels to meet him. 

Throwing his key on a table, he came over to you without wasting time, hands grabbing your face and smashing your lips together for a hotter, wetter, dirtier kiss.

His tongue sucked you yours as your hands traveled on his chiseled torso, sliding inside his shirt for the full experience. You scratch the skin with your nails and he quivered under your touch. “Fuck.” he let out, pushing you against the head of the sofa.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you shortened the distance between your bodies even more and his hands moved down your body, from your back to your ass, to your tight where he grabbed and entangled them around his waist. He placed you on top of the sofa, magically not letting your lips grow apart.

You could feel the bulge on his pants hardening with each touch, so you lowered one hand to cup his member in it’s entirety, but not managing to get a hold of half of it. Shit. You tried to pull at his waistband, but he pushed your hand away. “I’m not wasting time.” he said, taking you off of your seat. “I need to be inside you.”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. The thought of his words becoming a reality soaking your panties more than they already were, as you had to grind on his clothed crotch to get the friction, the sensation you so desperately needed. You wanted him inside of you now, not a minute later.

“Your room?” he asked.

“First door to the right.” you said, gasping for air between his kisses.

With ease, he walked to your bedroom as if he knew you home by heart, and as if he didn’t carry a girl but just a stuffed toy. His only struggle came at the door handle, but reaching behind you you managed to open it up for him, a group effort for a group pleasure.

Dick let go of your legs, letting your feet hit the floor once again. His hands were quick to find the hem of your shirt, tugging at it before you broke the kiss to allow him to pull it over your head, your bra being ripped off your skin not much later. His shirt and sweatpants flew behind him too in just a few seconds, and he soon had you pinned on the bed, hands trapped by his on top of your head.

Dick had an urgency in him you’d never seen before, more used to his calm demeanor. He grunted on your ear as he sucked on your neck, leaving marks you knew you wouldn’t be able to hide at work, and he grinded his clothed dick on your bare pussy.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting this.” he groaned, one hand grabbing tightly at your boob. “Some days beside you were pure torture.”

You couldn’t imagine an Officer Dreamy having dreams about you, just like you did with him, but from the sound of it, he had plenty. All you could do was moan out his name, his mouth doing magic on your neck as his hands finally reached where you needed him more.

Rubbing slowly at your clit, you tried humping it, wanting it faster, wanting release, but his movements remained slow, torturous. 

“D-dick.” you cried out his name, begging him to speed up his touch.

“Say it again, darling. Say it.” he requested. “Let my fucking name slip out of your dirty little mouth.”

“Dick. Dick, please!” you obeyed, little the silly little slut you were for him. If your friends or coworkers found out about this, they’d be very disapproving, they’d tell you it was wrong to fuck your superior, but fuck it, fuck him you will.

He moaned loudly in your ear and his movements gained speed. He rubbed at your clit harshly, making it bruise, but the pain only added to the growing sensation on your core. He lowered his head and his lip grabbed your nipple, and his sucks were enough to bring you to the edge.

“You came so hard for me, darling.”

Moving away from your skin, setting your hands free, he admired your cum glistening on his hands before bringing them to his mouth and licking it off his finger. “I knew you’d taste fucking delicious.”

This idea of him wanting to fuck you for so long did wonders to your ego and booted any confidence you still had. The man you so desperately wanted for so long had wanted you as desperately for just as long. Your heart beat so fast you were sure he could hear it, but you wanted him too, no secrets lying between you two anymore.

Without you noticing, his boxers were gone and his hard dick bounced on his crotch, the rosy tip, dripping with precum, staining his stomach. Lining up outside your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit just to tease you a little more, his eyes met yours. They trapped you as they did inside the car, but now they didn’t stare at you with simple desire. It burned, it consumed him and needed to find a way to release it. And his way was you.

With no warning, he thrusted into you, his size ripping you open and you let out a scream as you prayed your neighbors were heavy sleepers. Dick, as soon as his member was fully within you, let out a guttural groan, the sexiest moan you’d ever heard come out of a man.

“F-fuck you’re so tight.” he moaned. “Just like I imagined.”

Lying on top of you, he met your lips, he wrapped your fingers in his and slid your hands to the top of your head again. His thrusts were fast, hard, reaching you deeper and deeper, taking out of you a scream louder than the other, only muffled by his mouth that refused to leave yours.

You wrapped your leg around his waist, wanting him to go deeper, if it was even possible, so consumed with lust that all logic melted out of your mind.

It wasn’t a fuck, it was love making, sensual and nearly animalistic love making, and the idea of it made the butterflies in your stomach go feral just as you were. If he loved you or not, even it was even something else more the pure lust, was a discussion for later, but he fucked you like no one else did, and you only hoped it was a sign he was not like the others. That he wasn’t just a single page in a large book.

The wet sound of your skins meeting each other filled the room, but only because your mouths were glued together, all sound not allowed to make it out.

“You’re taking me in so good, aren’t you Yn?”

“Yes, y-yes. You’re filling me so good.” you cried back.

“Are you gonna come on my dick, Yn? Are you gonna let me feel you coming?” he teased, nearly as desperate for your orgasm as you were.

“Yes.” you replied, louder than you’d wished. With a few more thrusts, you came all over his hard dick, your body shaking ferociously, reaching a high you’d never reached before. “Uuh, yes!” you screamed, as he continued to pump into you, his own orgasm imminent.

“I’m gonna come, Yn.” he announced, thrusting once more before taking his member out of your pussy and stroking it up and down with his hands. His milky load hit your belly, painting you in sin, as your tongue extended out for a little drip of it.

Exhausted, Dick threw himself on the bed beside you, both your breath audibly out of pace. Your body was covered in sweat, your bed sheet sticking to your back as you tried your best to recollect yourself.

“Officer McCaffrey would be so disappointed.” you joked, getting a loud laugh out of the man beside you. Crossing his arm over your waist, he pulled you closer to him, kissing the wet baby hairs at your temple.

“Wanna disappoint him again?” he asked, turning your face to meet your eyes, his new found favorite thing to look at.

“All night?” you asked in return.

“All fucking night.”

It was safe to say you were late for work again the next morning, and would be late a few more times, as Officer Dreamy would gladly keep you up for as long as you wished.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x yn #dick grayson x female!reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson smut

[depravitycentral]

Daichi Sawamura Yandere NSFW Profile

Yandere! Daichi Sawamura x fem! reader

TW: dub/noncon, kidnapping, masturbation, voyeurism, groping, cum eating (literally and in a kinky way), Daichi is icky and you should never eat any food he provides for you, roleplaying, begging, breeding, Daddy kink, mentions of pregnancy, brief mentions of lactation kink, mild undertones of misogyny, obviously this is post-timeskip Daichi, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 10.0K

HABITS:

Before you walked into Daichi’s life, he wasn’t an avid fan of touching himself. He had no problems with sex – it was normal, natural, and he was most certainly no stranger to the incessant pull of hormones, to the intensity of late night bouts of horniness.

And yet, he’d never really been one to get himself off obsessively, to wrap his fingers around his aching cock and jerk away until a stuttered grunt and sharp exhale of breath tumble past his lips as ropes of white splatter against his chest every night.

Sure, he had stress from his everyday life; stress from his job, his friends, his parents, everything – and he’ll admit that his hand, some lube, and a rather explicit video certainly helped make the stress go away, if only for a bit. He wasn’t necessarily unpopular with women before meeting you, but he’d never really held much of an admiration towards any particular girl for any longer than a week or two, anything deeper than a fleeting attraction that eventually died down and turned to something more platonic.

His feelings are guarded, and it most certainly did not feel right to be fucking his fist to the thought of some girl who he’d never spoken more than fifty words to. Past girlfriends have helped curb his libido a bit, offering him a better alternative than his hand, but Daichi has never felt that enthralled by touching himself and others.

However, once you step into his world, suddenly Daichi’s entire outlook on sex and masturbation changes drastically. He prides himself on being a man of restraint, of respecting the boundaries of others, but where you’re concerned?

Well, is it respectful of him to be daydreaming about bouncing you up and down on his cock, hearing you cry out his name and watching your pretty tits bounce along with you?

Is it disrespectful to think of the way your ass would jiggle as he spanks you, how your voice would sound so airy and breathless when you call out five – oh! Five, Daddy!

Is it crude of him to imagine the way you’d choke and gag as you pull off of his cock, a string of saliva connected to your puffy lips to his swollen tip, cum smeared all along your cheeks as you beg him to let you give him just one more, wanna make you feel good one more time, please!

He’s normally not especially sexually driven, but it’s almost like a switch gets flipped once Daichi realizes how fucking in love he is with you – mind, soul and, of course, body.Lonely nights spent thinking of you and your perfect figure that Daichi desperately wants to touch become more and more frequent, more and more urgent because when he’s laying underneath his covers, his body growing hot as he thinks about what could be hiding under your clothes, how can he not vividly begin imagining the gentle curve of your ass, the plush of your thighs and the wonderful, sweet treat laying between them?

How can he not fantasize about tasting your slick, dipping his tongue between your folds and feeling your fingers tug at his hair while your pretty whines fill his ears?

Because of his stance on getting busy with himself being a time for imagination of someone, Daichi is actually quite touch starved, and once he has his hand wrapped around his achingly hard cock with you in mind for the first time, he starts to question why he didn’t start doing this much sooner.

When it comes to touching himself, he has a pretty set in stone method for how to best get himself off, for how to make the experience the best that he can.

(Everything he can do to himself is subpar in comparison to you, though – just the thought of what your soft fingers could do, your warm mouth, your soaking pussy, your bouncy tits, your pert little asshole is enough to get him groaning and wishing you were with him.)

Daichi has a pattern established on how he touches himself, and he rarely strays from it. It works very well, and it allows his mind to run wild with fantasies of you. Daichi is a dom through and through, and every fantasy he harbors between the two of you (and there are many to choose from) involves him in the more dominant position - him above you, thrusting into you as deeply and sensually as he can, whispering in your ear how good you are for taking his cock so well.

Him sitting up in bed, your legs straddled around him and your fingers splayed over his chest while he moves you up and down, growling out your name and sucking hickies into your neck, occasionally coming up to smack and grab at your ass. He’ll even grab you firmly and thrust up into you from time to time, the abrupt change of pace and force making you cry out and collapse forward, pressing your chest into his face while he sucks at a nipple and growls under his breath.

His obsession with caring and watching over you that plagues his everyday interactions with you translates into the bedroom too - every sexual urge and desire he has about you is really about taking care of you and your needs. He’s the ultimate pleaser, in all honesty, though he does his fair share of teasing at times.

 Of course though, he has a few selfish fantasies (namely, he’d love for you to give him head, to be on your knees, sucking and drooling all over his cock while he runs his fingers through your hair, grunting out praise for you and thrusting into that tight throat of yours) that he indulges in once in a while, but generally when he’s alone with just his fist as a poor stand in for your warm, tight, dripping cunt, he focuses on mainly the idea of pleasing and fucking you.

And while he doesn’t ever want to admit it, Daichi has a bit of a dirty secret when it comes to how he masturbates – he’s very much the standard fist fucker, jerking himself off until he’s nearly numb, until he’s panting and his cock is left bright red and swollen, aching for more but too sensitive to endure anything else.

He doesn’t do anything too risqué when he’s jerking his wrist up and down, flicking it slightly as he nears the tip and occasionally letting his thumb glide over his slit, making his hips jerk. He’s not too crazy in that regard, but the small glass jar he pulls out from under his bed and sets on his bedside table is anything but normal. Its half filled with white, sticky semi-liquid, a light film covering the entirety of the jar, looking sinister and kept safe and out of harm’s way so as not to spill a single drop.

When he’s in the mood, his cock already flushed and desperate for contact (which is after nearly every interaction with you, no matter how small or innocent), he’ll just gulp and bite his lip, retreating away to his bedroom with excitement building in his gut. He’ll start by locking the door and dimming the lights, before heading over to his bed and stripping down to nothing.

He’ll twist the lid of the jar off, the potent smell enveloping his senses and leaving him to wonder how you’d react to the aroma, whether you’d be flustered and shyly look away, or whether you’d grab the jar and bring it up to your nose, deeply inhaling and letting your eyes roll to the back of your head, moaning something about how he smells so good, how you want to taste him, how you need him.

Setting the jar back on the table, he’ll sit on his mattress so that he’s leaning back on his knees, his entire chest upright and exposed as his cock slaps up against the skin of his lower stomach, red and drooling precum and absolutely begging for attention.

He’ll run a hand along his chest, scratching lightly at the hard muscles and reaching down to his dark pubic hair, a low groan escaping his throat as he closes his eyes and imagines it’s your wandering hands, so much smaller and softer than his own.

He’ll imagine you laying down before him, spread out and looking so welcoming and ravishing, your hair all wild and your eyes wide with desire, lips already swollen from kissing and dark marks sucked into your neck claiming you as his his his. His cock bobs at just the thought, a thick glob of precum oozing from the tip.

He’ll start slowly, ghosting a hand over his raging erection, feeling how he twitches slightly at the airy contact. He runs his fingertips over the prominent vein on his left side, feeling the way it stands out against the smooth skin of his length, the touch making his toes curl and his thighs twitch.

Sometimes he’ll imagine your soft, perfect lips wrapped around his length, sucking and swirling your tongue around his sensitive head while his fingers are buried in your hair.

Other times, he’ll imagine you under him, looking up at him with those wonderful eyes clouded in lust and ecstasy as he absolutely destroys that precious little pussy of yours, pounding into you so hard that you’re fisting the sheets and crying out for dear life because fuck he’s hitting so deep, and you’re going to come much too soon.

The only sound filling the room while his fist works at his length is the dull thump of his pelvis, along with ragged breathes and little growls of your name and fuck yes, good girl, god just like that, fuck baby how’re you so damn tight mixed with incoherent little gasps of mine as he nears his high.

His pace starts to speed up too as he gets closer and closer to his release, grunts escaping him while he chants your name under his breath, until eventually his hips are bucking over and over into the air, desperate to be thrusting as deeply inside you as possible, and his orgasm tears through him with a low, throaty grunt.

Quickly he’s scrambling to grab onto the jar, knocking things over in his haste as he groans loudly, chanting your name and going on about how you’re so good, so fucking good, fuck wanna – wanna fuck you so bad – take it take it take it – !

His eyes squeeze shut as thick ropes of cum shoot from his red, engorged tip and directly into the open jar, the spurts blending in with the other older, thicker loads stored in the container, and he’ll lowly growl your name, imagining praising you for taking his cock so well and how you’re such a good girl for taking every last drop of his cum while he empties his balls inside the container, keeping his hand lightly pumping to make sure he gets every last drop out. He’ll even grip the base and shake himself a bit to make sure everything he has to offer comes out, drooling from the swollen slit and dripping in big fat drops into the jar.

It takes him a few minutes to recover, and once he does, he’ll smile crookedly down at the glass, bringing it up to nis nose to lightly sniff, the image of your face when you bite into the little snacks he makes you flashing through his mind.

You’re so cute when you’re munching on the little mini bite sized sandwiches he brings you every week during your lunch break, your adorably clueless self never wondering why there seems to be so much mayonnaise, why there’s always a slightly bitter, salty undertaste.

But Daichi doesn’t mind – it’s worth it to see you lick your fingers clean, his mouth going dry at the thought of you licking his cock clean in the same manner, and as he shuts the jar lid and carefully places it back under his bed, knowing he’ll likely have it filled the other half way by the weekend with the sheer amount of cum he produces and the frequency with which he collects it.

And as he leans back against his pillows, he’ll be more lonely than ever, because all he wants in that moment is your warm, beautiful body to be there with him, cuddling into his naked chest and telling him how much you love him.

All he wants is your soft, sticky body clutching onto his, your face nuzzling into his chest and the mixture of his cum and your slick dripping down your thighs and onto him to lull him to sleep. You’re so perfect, and as Daichi slips into a land of dreams filled with your face, he can only hope the day soon comes when his imagination becomes reality.

FAVORITE BODY PART:

Your thighs

He can’t quite explain it, but there’s just something about the expanse of your thighs that gets him gulping, having to adjust both the collar of his shirt and the waistband of his trousers. Size is completely irrelevant to him; you could have the leanest thighs with hardly any fat, the most muscular legs he’s ever seen, or a lovely plush to them that jiggles with your every move, and he’d still be completely, whole-heartedly in love.

There’s just something about the smooth expanses of skin that really get Daichi hot under the collar - maybe it’s the fact that they look so soft and squishy, like he could just reach out and grab a handful, get you flustered and squeaking in surprise as he massages the soft flesh under his palm.

Maybe it’s the way they splay out when you sit down, looking perfect, so fucking tempting, like they could suffocate him so easily and fuck, now he’s hard and staring at your thighs from across the room and god, where’s the nearest bathroom with fairly soundproof walls?

Or maybe it’s because he just knows that there’s a wonderful, sweet surprise waiting in the middle of them, ready for him to love and touch and taste and god, he’s never wanted to fuck something so bad, never wanted to shove his cock into something so much, to fill to fucking brim with his cum and make a completely fucking mess of something as badly as he does your luscious fucking thighs –

Regardless, he’s completely in love with the supple flesh; he wants nothing more than to run his hands up and down them, take a handful and squeeze, nibble until a nice, possessive hickey taints the delicate skin. He wants to touch you so badly, to get the opportunity to love and worship every inch of the supple flesh, to show you just how beautiful you are, how much he loves and appreciates your body.

Each time the thought of them flashes through his mind (something that happens very frequently), he’s practically drooling, his mouth watering and saliva pooling up in his cheeks at just the thought of getting to touch them, of getting to knead your soft skin and hear the way you sigh out in pleasure, of sucking dark hickeys into the delicate skin of your inner thighs, of getting to push them together and fuck the space between them.

It’s honestly pretty bad how quickly and easily your thighs can arouse him - when he sees you wearing anything shorter than full length pants, he has to will his eyes away for fear that he’ll grow hard right then and there, his face flushing red and his throat growing dry.

It’s all too easy to imagine those thighs hooked up over his shoulders, bending your body in half while he pounds into you again and again and again until you’re incoherently crying out, fingernails scratching down his back while he hisses and grunts and pounds into you deeply enough to imprint the shape of his cock onto every part of you.

And once he’s stolen you away, Daichi’s obsession really begins to show – constantly touching you, always groping you and resting a hand against them (preferably between them when you cuddle or watch TV, because the heat alone is enough to have his eyes fluttering closed, a sharp inhale sounding while he shifts around below you) always eyeing them from the corner of his gaze, always forcing you to throw a leg over him when he’s cuddling you in the much too large bed Daichi bought for the two of you.

(He’d purposefully bought such a large size, if only because he wants to have all the room in the world to spread you out as he sees fit, to get you open and exposed and vulnerable to his probing stare, his wandering fingers, his eager mouth.)

If he could, he’d have a hand on your thigh at all times of the day, regardless of who you’re with, where you are and what you’re doing - he just can’t control himself.

His chest

While he isn’t overly buff, he’s put in his fair share of physical care and generally keeps himself in pretty good shape not only for his job, but for his own health as well.

He most definitely has muscle, and his upper body is actually quite defined – pectorals that physically stand out, a pair of pebbled, sensitive nipples, planes of light abs that flex and harden under your curious fingertips. He works hard during required workout sessions for the force, and although he isn’t the most purely athletic on the force, he does regularly visit the gym and lift.

And once you walk into his life, suddenly Daichi has someone to impress, someone to imagine gushing over his muscles and trailing their fingers over him in awe. And really, you’re by far the best motivation he could ever ask for; he wants you to be impressed, to be in awe at his body and the muscles lining his form, if only to prove that he can provide for you, that he can protect you and take care of you like he should, like you deserve.

And that’s what running through his mind as he pushes the bench press above his head, as he grits his teeth and pushes himself just a bit further, just a bit harder, because imagining the look of awe and attraction in your eyes the first time he’s shirtless around you is enough to have him eagerly upping his regiments, wanting to resemble to cover models for the men���s activewear magazines he sees around.

He has a lot of fantasies that involve his chest where you’re concerned – he wants you pressed up against him, your warm, soft and supple body flush against the hard lines of muscle.

He wants to feel your breasts pushed up against him, feel your hard nipples against his own, the swell of them against him as he pulls you closer, kisses you, hands grabbing fistfuls of your ass while he groans into your mouth.

He wants to hover above you and absolutely destroy that cute little pussy of yours, to leave you sobbing and writhing around below him in pleasure with your hands firmly pushing against his chest, arms too weak to even remotely put up a fight as he just keeps going, as his cock drives into you again and again and again.

The ideas make his head spin, his throat feel dry with want and his fingers idly clenching into fists, the desperation to have your admiration and awe pointed at him so potent that it’s nearly painful.

And once you’re trapped in his home, Daichi tries to speed up the inevitable by simply forgoing any type of shirt in the presence of you – his muscles are on display, abs tightening and flexing when he reaches up to get something off the top shelf, clenching his core tightly when he forces you to sit on his lap while he feeds you dinner.

Having a strong, masculine chest only furthers his idea of him being your strong, brave protector in his mind, and you being his sweet little darling, the one who is so delicate and in such desperate need of saving.

Daichi is proud of his physique, and while he tries not to let it show, the first time he’s half naked around you the desperation to get your approval is practically palpable – so really, just run your hand from nipple to nipple, trace the hard lines of his abs, the deep v right above the hem of his pants, and whisper a sultry voice, you’re so handsome, Daddy, and Daichi will nearly come right then and there.

He just wants your approval, so badly that it nearly suffocates him.

 

DRIVE:

Before meeting you, his sex drive was low – occasionally getting himself off, though often finding himself too busy to really indulge in even a quick session with his wrist tugging and jerking on him while he grunts and groans.

It just wasn’t important to him, something that he didn’t have the time, energy or interest in investing in. He didn’t have anyone to think of or imagine, and while there were plenty of pretty women he got along with, he could never manage to form developed enough feelings to get to the stage of wanting to be with most of them in that way, of wanting to see them naked and touch them.

 However, this does a complete 180 when his obsession with you forms - suddenly he’s wrapped up with all of these lewd ideas of you, all of these fantasies that make his face turn red and his entire body feel like it’s on fire.

Frequent wet dreams that leave him washing his sheets three or four times a week have him focusing on hazy imagery of you reaching down to spread the lips of your cunt for him, letting him see the shining wetness inside, the clenching hole he so desperately wants to fuck, the slick he wants to lap up every drop of.

Ideas of you on your knees, looking up at him through teary eyelashes while you gag and choke against his cock have him groaning and steadying himself against the wall, his knees quite literally going weak at the mere thought of you.

He’s horny for you at all times, and nothing can sate his desire for you and your body until you’re there in front of him, naked and getting your brains fucked out by your beloved. Getting himself off makes it more manageable, but he isn’t truly happy until his thick, aching cock is buried as deeply inside you as possible, where it truly belongs.

He wants to fuck you all the time, and with every innocent expression you give him when he’s with you and every time he sees that fucking skirt you love ride up just a tad, it gets harder and harder to deny himself of his urges.

With every little sound you make as you work on your work assignments, as you stand stirring something over the stove or settle into bed, the urge to pin you down and claim you as utterly and completely his (via stuffing you full of his cum and leaving so many hickeys on your neck that you’ll look like you were attacked by a wild animal, of course) becomes more intense. It becomes more difficult to hold back as his fingers dig into his palm, his eyes squeezed shut in concentration as he tries not to think about the way you’d sound begging for his cock, how you’d plea and cry out for him to fill me up, please please Daddy! I’ve been so good, want your cock, wanna be fucked stupid, please!

Daichi is a bit of a demon in waiting, and once you’re in his grasp, he’s throwing the idea of holding himself back out the window, because fuck it all if you don’t look like the sexiest thing he’s ever seen all dolled up in his t-shirt and the lacy pair of crotchless panties he’d forced you into that morning.

You’re gorgeous, and because of you his libido spikes to the point of him feeling overwhelmed by every little thing you do – but surely, you must want him just as badly as he needs you, right?

However, Daichi will not force anything sexual on you. He wants it to be consensual, for the both of you to enjoy it, and he can’t enjoy himself if you’re in tears and begging him to stop.

(Unless you’re begging because he’s made you come so many times that you can’t even think, something that crosses his mind often late at night, when there’s a flush high on his cheeks, his fist moving so quickly that he can’t hope to stop himself, not when the orgasm he’s so desperate for – that he pretends you’re desperate for - is so fucking close -)

His morals where you’re concerned are fairly skewed, but even Daichi, in his state of absolute obsession with you, knows that sex absolutely needs to be consensual, regardless of the fact that he could die happy if you’d just move those panties to the side and give him five minutes to do whatever he desires, five minutes of pure, unadulterated pleasure that could give him enough material in the spank bank for the rest of his lifetime.

So, he steals himself and tries to ignore it the best he can, but sometimes it gets to be too much, the yearning and desire at such a level that Daichi is helpless in the face of how his cock throbs, aching and practically begging him to get release, to bury himself as deeply inside your tight little pussy as he possibly can.

And anything can trigger this intense reaction, really – seeing you bite your lip while you contemplate whether it’s worth cuddling with him to get the warmth that the blanket he’s using has to give you is enough to have Daichi groaning, a rather noticeable bulge in the blanket right over his crotch making the decision for you.

When you idly hum a tune to a song you love, immediately Daichi’s wondering whether you’d like him to fuck you to that song, to let your cries and moans blend in with the singer’s voice, his own groans and grunts matching the bass perfectly.

He really doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but the pure lust you inspire within him, the desperate desire that your mere presence ignites in his heart isn’t always easy to ignore - he gets desperate, his body telling him to drop everything and come, and sometimes he can’t even make it to the bathroom.

Which leads to him jerking it right in front of you, his trousers zipped down to expose the thick, tan length as his hand mercilessly pumps up and down, up and down, again and again. It obviously makes you uncomfortable (because it always, always happens when you’re in the same room, when you were just doing something that gave him such intense mental imagery that he just couldn’t hold back the lust), but Daichi can’t bring himself to care.

He’ll shamelessly be grunting your name, not scared to praise fantasy-you while you stand a few feet away from him and watch with wide eyes as he steadily yanks at his intimidatingly thick member. 

His eyes go from squeezing shut tightly and peeling open to stare you directly in the eye as he groans out fuuuck, shit baby so fucking tight – hngh, gonna – gonna make you come for Daddy, fuck, his fist squeezing his cock in an effort to mimic the way your own walls would milk him dry.

He comes faster knowing you’re watching, knowing that the presence he so desperately longs for is right next to him, that your soft skin and pretty lips are right fucking there, perfectly visible for his eyes and imagination to run wild.

He’ll grip himself tighter and tighter, telling you that you’re so damn tight baby, oh f-fuck, clenchin’ me too damn much while his head falls back, his eyes squeezed shut and his brows furrowed as the pleasure mounts and mounts and grows, everything feeling hot and heavy and ready to absolutely burst –

His cum is suddenly landing in long, thin white stripes across his chest as he heaves, his eyes fluttering open to stare at you as the last few spurts land against his tan skin, his fingers – trembling ever so slightly – give himself a few good shakes, just to make sure he gets absolutely everything out. And all the while he’ll just grin, the sight almost boyish as a breathless chuckle tumbles past his lips.  

He wishes that could’ve been inside of you, that he could’ve stuffed your sweet little pussy full of his cum until you were begging for more, but he notices the way your thighs clench together, how your face is flushed from embarrassment but also arousal, and it makes him fucking smug.

He knows it’s only a matter of time until you cave and beg him to touch you, and Daichi can’t wait for that day. You better know what you’re getting yourself into because once he’s done with you your throat will be raw from screaming and you won’t be able to walk for a few days.

MAIN THREE KINKS:

Praise 

During sex, Daichi is quite vocal – there’s a lot of noises, mostly grunts and groans, along with the occasional growl.

He’s cursing under his breath when you tighten up, the sensation of your walls clenching down at his length making his breath come out in harsh pants. when you let out a particularly sexy moan that goes directly to his cock, he’s gasping sharply and muttering your name, his words slurred slightly as he tries to veer himself away from his impeding orgasm.

He’s incoherent as he tips over the edge, ropes of cum staining your tummy, pussy, tits, face, anything and everything – his words don’t make sense (tangled moans of so good and ‘m coming and take it please please please -).

It’s never quiet in the bedroom with him between his words and the sounds of his balls clapping against your ass and chin, the lewd squelching noises ringing in his ears while he fucks you hard enough to see stars.

There’s all kinds of noise, and there’s almost always a constant stream of commentary coming from him as well. He can’t help himself; the sight of you below him, writhing in pleasure as he thrusts into you and rubs quick, tight circles along your clit is just too much for him to not say anything about.

You’re just so fucking cute when he’s got you split open on his cock, your breasts bouncing in every direction as his hips snap into yours so harshly you’re sure you’ll break, that he’ll tear you in two.

He is quite the dirty talker, and while most of it is short and possessive mutters of mine, Daichi isn’t afraid to express just what you’re making him feel. He’s grunting out that you’re mine, babygirl, this pussy fucking belongs to me as he sinks in inch by inch, slowly filling you and making your eyes squeeze shut as he just keeps going, his length never seeming to end even as his tip nudges against parts of you that you didn’t know existed.

He’s burying his face into your neck as he bends your knees against your heaving chest, the angle letting him hit deeper and harder, your walls milking him for every last drop of cum as he groans lowly that he’s gonna make you come, wanna make you squirt, fuck want you to make a mess for me, let go baby.

He’s running his hand through your hair and tilting his head back with closed eyes as his hips jerk up lightly, thrusting without his control as he nearly whines out about how that’s it, oh fuck baby, look so pretty sucking my cock, like you were made to choke on me ngh –  

It really gets him off to see you respond to his words; when you clench around him as he’s telling you how good you’re being for him, how you’re such a good girl for Daddy, it only makes him want to go harder, deeper and faster until you’re spasming around his cock and milking him for absolutely everything he’s worth.

When he tells you that he’s so proud of you while you drool and gag all over his cock, Daichi loves to see your eyes light up, the way your thighs rub together as you move to suckle at his balls, your hand taking over and spreading his precum mixed with your saliva all over his twitching length.

When you make that fucking adorable little gasp as he tells you how he’ll never get pussy this good from anyone else, his heart melts and his desire to see you come undone because of him skyrockets.

He’ll call you his baby girl, tell you how good that pretty little mouth feels wrapped around his cock, or how tight your precious cunt feels around him as he ruts into you.

He’ll rant and rave about how good it feels when you come on his cock, your walls spasming and massaging at his length, triggering his own orgasm that fills you up with white until it’s leaking down the sides, spilling out of your messy little hole because it’s all just too much.

It’s always positive praise; he’s not a fan of degrading you, if only because he genuinely views you as perfection, as someone who deserves to be loved and cared for, not ridiculed and humiliated. It’s designed to subtly show how dominant he is (as if the bruising pace of his hips and the sheer power behind his fingers gripping onto your waist weren’t enough) and to show you how much he’s enjoying whatever it is that he’s doing to you.

Sex with him is never quiet; between your moans and his grunts and hissed words, and of course the slapping of skin against skin and the squelching of his cock stirring up your insides, the bedroom (or kitchen, or shower, or wherever else the two of you find yourself getting down and dirty) will be filled with the passionate sounds of your lovemaking.

And of course, the unmistakable sound of Daichi cursing and calling you his good little girl, his little angel.

Daddy kink

Daichi is dominant in bed. There’s very little chance of you ever convincing him to let you take control between the sheets, and while he may briefly entertain the notion as he lets you push him onto his back and climb on top of him, your moment of power won’t last long.

Soon, he’ll have his hands on your hips, a small smile on his flushed face as he guides your pelvis to grind against his own, dirty words falling from his lips as he commands you to touch your clit for me, wanna see you all gooey and wet for me.

In the bedroom he wants full control, to be the one calling the shots and deciding what goes on, how you get off and whether or not you’re being a good enough little girl to even get touched.

He wants to be the one deciding whether you come from his fingers or tongue – he’ll murmur into the skin of your thighs as he plants kisses leading from your knee to your folds that you’d better behave, wanna see you come on my cock tonight, not my tongue.

He wants to be one to control how many times you orgasm in a single night – he’s warning you that he wants at least four babygirl, and I want them loud; tell me you’re feeling good, and Daddy will keep letting you get there, okay?

It stems from his compulsive, obsessive need to protect you and care for you. He sees himself as your protector, your caregiver, and in order to fully care for you, he needs to make sure you’re getting what you need from sex. He honestly feels like he knows what’s best for you, that his decisions are really the correct ones, even if you don’t see the truth in them now.

He knows that the solution to your homesickness is to fuck you stupid on his cock. He knows that when you’re getting mouthy with him, shoving his girth into your throat until you’re gagging and tears prick the corner of your eyes is the only way you’ll learn some respect. He knows that when you’ve had a long day alone while he works on the force, you need a reminder of how much you mean to him, and what better way to show that than spend hours between your legs, your slick smeared from his chin to his cheeks?

He genuinely believes that he has your best interest at heart every moment, and when you’re such a crying, babbling mess as he impales you on his cock over and over, obviously you can’t make any decisions, let alone speak a coherent sentence, so it must be his responsibility then. You’re just too cockdrunk to know what you really need – so Daichi knows for you.

As a result, there is absolutely no chance that you’ll ever dominate him, no matter how badly you want to - he takes care of you outside and inside the bedroom, and he isn’t relinquishing control no matter how hard you beg.

Even if you get down on your knees and grasp at his pantleg, pleading with him to please let me peg you, please? I’ve been such a good girl lately, I’ll do anything you want if you’ll just let me!, he’s still not budging, just sighing and telling you to quite being such a brat.

Even if you perch yourself naked on his thigh, desperately rubbing your cunt against the knee of his pants, smearing your pretty slick all over the material, Daichi won’t let you tie him up and use him how you please, even though he’s hard as hell. He’s fairly lenient on a lot of other aspects of your captivity with him, but the second you ask if you can top him, if you can call the shots, Daichi can’t help but laugh because do you really think you could do it by yourself?

Do you really think you have the ability to control a man as strong and large as him? Don’t make him laugh.

He wants to showcase his dominance over you in every single way he possibly can when you’re both naked and sweating, and though he does a lot of this through raw physical maneuvering (grasping your hips and controlling the pace when you ride him, pushing your knees up to your ears when he folds you into a mating press, leaning forward so that his entire chest is flush with your back as he ruts into you from behind like a dog in heat) it doesn’t just stop there; you are required to call him Daddy in bed, regardless of whether you want to or not.

Something about the power that comes with it goes to his head; the complete and utter trust that you have in him in order to give yourself over to him like that, to hear you refer to him as such a power figure.

It makes him dizzy with pride, arousal and adoration, and he’s honestly in heaven each and every time you gasp out the name. When he slurps against your folds, tongue eagerly working at your clit, his eyes roll to the back of his skull when you grasp at the pillow under your head and whine out a Daddy, mm, oh just like that, please don’t stop!

When you moan it out while he sends a sharp slap to your ass as he pounds into you from behind, his thrusts only get harder, more aggressive, surely strong enough that you’ll have two large bruises on your ass the next day from where his hips smacked against your skin over and over.

Every time you whimper it as he doesn’t stop his ministrations against your engorged clit even after you’ve reached your high and told him you’re too sensitive, that you can’t Daddy, oh please it’s too much, he just growls and keeps going, the power going to his head because he knows you need one fucking more.

He loves the nickname so much, in fact, that he’ll start requesting you to refer to him as that outside of the bedroom as well – when you’re tired, he’ll only let you go to sleep if you ask him in a sweet voice whether he’ll tuck me in, please Daddy? You do it just how I like it.

To him this is, of course, code for you asking him to fuck the absolute shit out of you without actually having to say it, and most of the time it works – Daichi’s libido is extremely high when it comes to you.

But on the nights where he won’t give in until you swallow your pride and push your arms together in your front, squeezing your breasts together so that the outline of your nipples show while you whisper out a please Daddy, can’t sleep without your cum in my tummy, his pupils dilate and he gulps, quickly ushering you off the bedroom when you know you’ll spend the next two hours with your face buried into the mattress and your ass high in the air while he gropes your tits and fucks you like a man possessed.

He wants to give you the love and pleasure that you deserve, so just let your Daddy take care of you.

Roleplaying

While Daichi could never, ever get bored of fucking you, he likes to mix things up in the bedroom occasionally. His hard and fast rule of always being the one in charge never changes much, but he’s a proponent of roleplaying when the both of you are getting intimate.

Perhaps it’s the product of years of relatively secretly watching porn, or perhaps it’s all those horrible ‘sexy’ costumes he’s seen during Halloween. He’s not sure, but regardless, he’s very, very interested in playing out some common sexual tropes with you.

Of course, he’s more than willing to play the police officer that catches you in the midst of a very minor crime – a speeding ticket, where you’ve got to do him a favor to get out of the cost.

(Generally, a very, very messy, drooly blowjob does the trick; he wants spit dribbling down your chin and down his length, his balls coated in a sheen of it while you gag and choke, his groans of I suppose I can let you go this once making relief sink to your guts.)

His favorite cop fantasy is finding you committing public indecency – you’ll make up some cover story of how you lost your shirt and bra at a friend’s house and now you’re in the middle of the park, the world subject to seeing your pretty tits and tummy. Daichi will pretend to scold you, chiding you for being so reckless, but it’s hard to take him seriously when those brown eyes are staring at your chest the whole time, fixating on how they jiggle with every step you take, just practically begging to be touched and groped.

(He’ll tell you that he has to take you back to the station – the bedroom – and teach you some common decency; ironic, considering more clothes come off than on when this happens, but your face will be buried in the pillows as he pounds against your ass so hard you’re seeing stars and tearing up, so you can’t focus on that too much.)

He enjoys other roleplay dynamics as well; anything with a clear power imbalance.

He’ll be the CEO of an important company and you his sweet little assistant, delivering paperwork and reminding him about that big meeting he’s got later in the day.

(Soon your skirt shortly flipped up over your ass as he pounds you against his desk, the wood creaking with every thrust as he relieves the pent up stress he’s feeling because this is a very important business meeting he’s got.)

He’ll play your patient and you his nurse who’s oh so willing to do anything her patient needs to get healthy again, even if the doctor’s prescribed cure is as many orgasms as possible.

(He likes when you look over every single inch of him, especially if you have to undress him – he’ll be commenting on how lewd it all is as you peel off his shirt, but his breathing is noticeably heavier and his pants are noticeably tighter – not to mention damp.)

He’ll play the fireman saving you from a burning house, and you’re just so grateful for his heroics and courage that you must repay him somehow!

(And who would he be to turn down your offer of letting him blow his load right into that tight little cunt of yours – as repayment for his hard work, of course!)

He’ll be the professor and you a college student, your grades desperately needing raising as you slowly shimmy off your cardigan, revealing the extremely tight and cropped shirt you’re wearing, the white fabric letting him see everything from your waist and above.

(He’ll have you lean forward, looking at him with sultry eyes as you ask if there’s anything you could do, because you’ll do anything to preform better, sir, because I promise you once I start something, I don’t stop until I finish it.)

He’s game to try almost any scenario, and for the most part it all ends with roughly the same thing – he’s fucking you until you’re nearly sobbing from the overstimulation, his calloused hands running along your body as his labored breaths sound in your ears, his depraved moans in both the scene and of his own volition making your head spin.

He’s a sucker for nearly any kind of roleplay, and if you were to bring up a certain scene? Oh, well – Daichi will almost never say no, but you’d better be prepared to dive deeply into the context because he will be making you play your character.

It’s just so hot to him how your relationship suddenly becomes taboo in the blink of an eye, and yet despite all the compromising situations you pretend to play out, Daichi likes that you’ll start associating him with a character who’s life is inarguably intertwined with yours – after all, where would the multi-billion dollar CEO be without the tight piece of ass he keeps in his office just to service him when things get a bit stressful?

You’re more than that to him, but the effect is the same – he’d be nothing without you, and doesn’t that just make you feel so very special?

OTHER NOTABLE KINKS INCLUDE:

Breeding

Diachi is very much a family man. He’s known from quite early on in his life that he eventually wants children, that he’d love to have a few sons running around shooting Nerf guns at one another, to have a few daughters running around playing tag and pretend.

It’s so heartwarming to him, to think of having his very own family, and once you wander into his life? Well, that desire for children and the parental gene that was semi dormant before suddenly become wildly active – Daichi so badly wants to knock you up, to fuck a baby into you that it becomes something he fixates on any time the two of you have sex.

He still fucks you with the goal of making you both feel good, but now he wants to make you feel good so that his seed will take, so that your tummy will be growing round with his baby.

Each time the two of you are in bed, his hands groping and wandering at every inch of your lovely body, Daichi is imagining the way you’ll look once you’re pregnant.

His fingers squeeze and press into the delicate skin of your breasts, imagining how they’ll swell up, your nipples darkening as milk weighs them down. He imagines how heavily they’ll be as he cups one in each hand, his lips closing around the buds as he suckles, mind filled with fantasies of how you’ll look with droplets of white leaking form your puffy, engorged nipples.

He presses down on your tummy as he fucks into you, marveling at the image of your belly so big you can barely walk, your frail body needing his support to do the simplest tasks, totally dependent on him as you carry what he gave you.

He’ll lick and suck at your clit and pussy, imagining how you’ll grow swollen and hypersensitive, your body having gone without his cock for far, far too long – he can only imagine how insatiable you’ll be after you recover from birth, practically forcing him to stuff you full of him him him.

He will be coming inside you every time, not letting you anywhere near birth control, not having a single condom laying around your shared home – no, it’s just his bare cock and your sweet, fertile and unprotected cunt, joined together and creating something wonderful.

Every time that he fucks you he has the trusty plug nearby, stopping you up once he pulls out to make sure that none of the creamy, sticky white stuffed between your legs leaks out.

He’s spending a few moments to caress your stomach as he tries to catch his breath, dark gaze mesmerized by the image of his cock stuffed into your cunt, almost talking himself into believing your tummy is already swollen from the cum he’d just filled you with.

Daichi will get you pregnant, whether you want him to or not, and once the news comes he couldn’t be happier – after all, you’ll make such a wonderful mother, your stomach round and full and your tits leaking with milk.

Breast Fixation

While your thighs are his favorite part of you (though he doesn’t really have a least favorite part of you – you’re his ideal woman after all), there’s something about your breasts that make Daichi absolutely swoon.

He’s never really identified as a tits man before, firmly preferring legs and thighs. Every bit of porn he’s ever watched he’s all but fast forwarded through the fondling portions, the zoom-ins of the woman’s breasts not doing a huge amount for him compared to way the camera captures the lovely curve of her calves and the plush of her thighs.

But the second that your soft, supple mounds are in front of him? Well, Daichi’s body is reacting before his mind can catch up, before he can realize that he’s reaching out and kneading at the soft flesh, callused hands rubbing and squeezing, a harsh moan tumbling from his lips because fuck you’re so soft, how is that even possible?

He’s reaching out to fondle you at the most random times; in the morning, when your sleeping body is spooning up against his own, he’s reaching around to carefully squeeze and lightly toy with your nipples, feeling the way the soft flesh slowly hardens, how you twitch in your sleep slightly at the minute pressure.

He’s reaching across the dinner table as you chew at your food, fingers giving a firm, purposeful squeeze before he sits back down, content to finish his chicken as he dreams about exactly how your tits will look tonight as he fucks you hard enough to make them bounce.

He’ll teasingly pinch at your nipples when he walks through the door from work, his officer uniform on as he grins and sees the outline of them through the incredibly tight shirt he’d had you put on this morning. And during sex, this doesn’t change; he’s rolling and pulling at your nipples, addicted to the way they pebble, how they slowly tighten up when he blows air onto them.

When his hands aren’t groping your thighs there’s a strong, strong chance that they’re instead present at your chest instead – idly fondling, making you squirm in place as he pushes his hips up against your ass, a murmur of do you feel what these pretty tits do to me babygirl? Can you feel how bad I wanna fuck them?

(And once you get pregnant? God, it’s game over for your chest – he’s fascinated by the way they swell up, how your nipples grow darker and areolas larger, how they’re heavier in his hands. And the second that you start lactating, Daichi is done for – you aren’t allowed to wear a shirt anymore, so that he can constantly be gazing upon your swollen belly and leaking tits, so that he can come by and squeeze one, watching a spurt of milk dribble down, rubbing it all along your skin. He likes nursing on you, muttering how you’ll be such a good mom, how his child is gonna be spoiled for life after getting to suck on tits this fine, this perfect and tasty.)

Really, he just loves your breasts, no matter the size, and Daichi has no shame showing his love – you’re perfect after all, so why should he ever be ashamed of recognizing that?

BIGGEST FANTASY:

While Daichi is completely swamped with explicit fantasies between the two of you, there’s most definitely a hierarchy in terms of what he deems the hottest, what’s most appealing to him, what he’s most desperate to try out with you.

(Of course, he’s not complaining about the onslaught of sexual thoughts he harbors for you – oh no, how could he? How could he possibly be upset when he’s waking up sweaty and panting from dreams starring you without any clothing on? How could he be upset when he’s spending nearly every night wringing himself dry to you, his cock swollen and sore and still aching for more, aching for you?  The only downside is the cost of having to replace the bottle of lube he keeps on his nightstand – he goes through an entire bottle in roughly two weeks, spreading so much around his length just to try and replicate what he’s sure is your incredibly wet, warm pussy.)

He’s watched his fair share of porn over the years, and slept with a few different women. Consequently, he’s aware of most kinks and activities in the bedroom, and as a result he feels he has a grasp on all kinds of different things he could do to get you moaning and gasping, your nails raking down his back, your lips parting into that pretty ‘o’ shape when you come.

However, most of his favorite – most eager – fantasies are more conceptual than specific situations. He’s constantly fantasizing about knocking you up; stuffing you so full of his cum that you’re leaking down your thighs, your skin stained with the creamy white while you shake and shudder underneath him, looking so pretty and warm.

He’ll fantasize about making you squirt, your pretty thighs quaking as his fingers rub desperately over your clit, your cries making his cock so hard it hurts. He dreams about fucking you up against a wall, using every muscle in his body to hold you up while he destroys you with his length.

However, Daichi’s biggest fantasy is to hear you beg for him. Nothing gets him harder than hearing you say how badly you want him, how much you need him. Nothing is more appealing to him than having you verbalize how badly your body craves him, how you’ll never be truly happy and satisfied until he’s buried balls deep inside you, drooling pink tip nestled snugly against your cervix.

It’s the stuff of wet dreams – in fact, many, many nights Daichi has awoken an hour or so before his alarm, sweat dripping from his temples and the very obvious tent his cock is making in his bedsheets letting him know that the ringing please Daichi in his head is the culprit. It satisfies his protective and possessive side, knowing that he’s the one you’re craving pleasure from, that only he can give you what you want, what you deserve.

As soon as he imagines you saying please, oh god please he’s rock hard and desperately craving a release from your fingers, mouth, and pussy. He’s craving to hear the way your voice changes pitch as you get closer and closer, how your back arches up slightly and your grip grows more insistent against his biceps, your voice turning whinier and your words slurred and your pussy getting so goddamn tight -  

The more he imagines you begging for him, for his cock, his cum, anything, the closer he gets, and it’s a sure fire way to obtain a shatteringly powerful orgasm for him. It just turns him on so much.

              His lips press light kisses against your neck, tickling the sensitive skin and making you gasp slightly. His hands ghost against your bare sides, calloused fingertips marveling at your soft skin and making you shiver. He’s above you, hovering over you so that all you can really see is him – his shoulders, rounded with muscle, his jawline (sharp, with a hint of stubble lining the skin), his brown locks falling slightly into his half-lidded eyes, his mouth set into an expression that you can only describe as a mix between utter adoration and lust. It’s a bit overwhelming, and between the pounding in your lower body and the way his fully erect cock is resting against your thigh, you know you can’t just lay down and wait. You need him.

Now. 

              “P-please…” You whisper, eyes squeezed shut as you buck your hips, desperately trying to get some friction to calm the pounding of your lower body. Daichi chuckles, pressing one last kiss against the soft skin of your neck before sitting up. He stares down at you, taking in the messy state of your hair, the rise and fall of your chest, how your lips part just slightly. He smirks down at you, fingertip tracing your jaw as his mind focuses on how fucking perfect you look in this moment. Flustered, disheveled, desperate all for him – exactly how he likes you.

              “Please what, baby girl?” He asks, voice low. You gulp and avert your eyes. 

              “Please, Daichi. T-touch me…” You whisper, still looking away from him. Daichi’s heart swells as his cock visibly twitches against your thigh - you’re just too adorable like this. So needy and horny all for him…

              “Now now, princess. You know only good girls who look at Daddy when they beg get what they want.” The finger tracing your jawline moves down your neck, ghosting over your jugular before dipping down over your collarbone to trace around an areola. You shudder, opening your eyes and looking shyly up at him. 

              “Daddy, please. I need your big, thick cock.” Your voice is whiny, high pitched and so needy, just how Daichi likes it. His heart flutters at the praise; you know exactly what to say to get him aching for you, his primal instincts taking over and pushing him to just ravish you until you’re shaking and too weak to properly stand. And you can feel how it’s affected him; his cock twitching against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, only coaxing on your own desire to be filled, to get the pleasure your body is craving. His fingers close in on a nipple, watching as it hardens below his calloused fingertips. 

              “What does my baby girl want this cock to do, hm?” He asks, accompanying his words with a thrust against your thigh. You moan, shivering at the friction against your skin. Daichi smirks once more, pinching your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb. You whimper at the feeling, and as he lightly pulls and tugs, your eyes fly open, catching his brown gaze that’s boring into you so intensely that you’re sure he can see right into your soul.

              “W-want Daddy to fuck me, please! I n-need Daddy’s cock inside me, want him to make me come so bad. Please, please!” You beg, your voice so clear and ringing out in the hot silence of the bedroom. Daichi pauses for a moment, his lips parting just slightly as he commits this moment to memory - you looking up at him in such desperation and desire, your arms tossed above your head, hair spread out and looking like a halo, and of course your naked, shivering body that’s just begging to be touched, loved, fucked. The next thing he knows, he’s lost complete control over himself, and he’s leaning down, capturing your lips in a heated, messy kiss. 

              When he pulls away for air a few moments later, he’s panting and practically buzzing with excitement and need. He leans down and licks the shell of your ear, and growls. In the low, gravelly tone you’ve learned to associate with a sore pussy for several days afterwards he groans, “Get ready baby girl, gonna fuck you so hard you’ll be screaming Daddy’s name all night.”

              And with that, he pushes in, cursing sharply at the feeling of how you clench down on him as your startled moan rings through the air. He grunts; you’re so fucking warm and wet, and immediately his hips are snapping back, thrusting, creating a bruising pace that leaves you scratching at his back as you chant ‘yes, Daddy, yes’ under your voice over and over. 

              “A-ah, oh Daddy yes yes yes please ngh, oh more -!” You cry out, throwing your head back and clutching desperately at his shoulders, hearing him grunt from deep within his chest.

              “More what babygirl? Tell – fuck, you’re so fucking tight – tell Daddy what more you want.” He growls, slowing his pace ever so slightly as you whine and buck your hips.

              “Want Daddy to fuck me stupid, wanna be his silly little – little girl.” You’re desperate at this point, the stretch of his cock and painfully slow movement against your walls not giving you nearly enough stimulation.

              Daichi smirks, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “Yeah? Wanna be Daddy’s dumb little girl, all stuffed full of cock?”

              You nod your head, biting your lip and squeezing your eyes shut as he slowly starts moving again, the slap of his balls against your ass making you cry out in pleasure and happiness.

              “Fuck you’re so pretty, my pretty little baby, getting destroyed on Daddy’s fat cock, fuck –“ His words are nearly unintelligible, said mostly for his benefit, but it only makes you cry out louder, a few tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as the minutes pass by, the trace edges of your orgasm creeping up on you.

              And Daichi can feel the way you slowly grow tighter, your moans changing in pitch and volume. He grunts, snapping his hips into you and asking you in a shaky voice, “Something the matter babygirl?”

              You whimper, eyes peeling open to stare into the brown depths of his own. “Gonna – gonna come Daddy, please let me come, wanna come so bad!”

              And when you’re looking at him with teary eyes, desperation written across your face as your walls clamp down on him hard enough to leave him breathless, how could he possibly deny you?

              “Shit, yes – fuck, come for Daddy, cream all over this cock.”

              And all Daichi can do is bury his face into your neck, and keep his hips pistoning into you as he reminds himself that this is finally real, that he’s finally getting to be with you and touch you, and when you clench down around him a good five minutes later, a moan of his name ripping from your throat as you come, Daichi thinks he must have found his heaven on Earth. After all, nothing else can explain the way your body makes him feel, the way you make him feel.

#yandere haikyuu #yandere daichi #yandere daichi sawamura #haikyuu smut #_daichi sawamura #_haikyuu #_lee's profiles #daichi smut

[moonsvillain]

have been toying with the idea of an au wherein shen jiu, after burning down the qiu household and running away, comes across xie lian rather than wu yanzi poaching him immediately afterwards:

i'd imagine in this verse he runs away to town rather than immediately being found in the aftermath of what he's done. at this point, shen jiu would be too paranoid to consider reaching out for directions to cang qiong mountain even if he wanted to make it there: what if they knew what he did? or figured it out if he did know? (if he even had the mind to think of these things through his panic)

he doesn't want to end up begging on the streets again, though—too alike his childhood and last time he was in that position, shen jiu ended up with the qius in the first place

so he takes refuge in temples that he comes across, stealing food when he can before moving to a different part of the rather large town he's ended up in so there's no clear pattern of when he shows up at whichever food stall

despite not holding that same respect and unwavering belief in gods (how could he, after everything he's gone through? shouldn't they have stepped in, sometime? what god would let him suffer as he did, separating him from the only person he loved?) he knows better than to try them, and begrudgingly thanks them for the shelter (because this he did appreciate, at the very least, if nothing else)

winter hits hard when it does, and shen jiu, after spending so many years in the qiu household, forgot how the cold seeps into your skin and bones without solid walls to keep out the frigid breeze.

he quickly falls ill with nothing to protect him from the elements but his threadbare clothing, and when he grows ill, he becomes slow. shen jiu nearly gets caught stealing, running away before he can be dragged to a town guard for his offence, but earning himself a nasty wound to his leg as he retreated

sickness + the cold + the wound leave him weak and wanting: missing qi-ge, reminiscing on nights where they'd curl up together for warmth, still cold but not alone, the two of them steady against the storm that raged on ahead of them

fever-ridden and teetering close to death, shen jiu wanders into a temple late at night and sinks to his knees, falling to his side, heart-rate slowing. in his delirium, he misses the figure taking shelter from the storm in the corner, watching him

shen jiu wakes up (he doesn't expect to), warm while he hears the wind whistle. he's still in that temple from earlier, but it's considerably... cozier. a small fire warms the inside and his clothes aren't as damp against his cold skin. his fever's broken, too—he doesn't know how long it's been, but he's glad he didn't die: never realized that he wanted to live until he was close to forfeiting his right to

here is where he meets his accidental saviour: xie lian stood over a slowly bubbling pot of stew that smells heavenly to shen jiu—he'd eat just about anything at this point, starved

his immediate distrust of xie lian stops him from being truly excited about his appearance

their relationship is veryyy shaky at the very beginning: shen jiu refuses to trust him and xie lian refuses to abandon this strange child he found on the verge of death

(there's a strange sort of bond built up when you nurse someone back to life, dragging them away from the brink of death and xie lian isn't interested, but he's curious about this kid who stumbled into his temple at the dead of night on a midnight in winter)

shen jiu's torn between distrust and this desire for company he didn't know he possessed; after being alone with no one but the qiu household [before he went on his massacre] he didn't realized how much he wanted to share space with someone who wasn't actively hurting him until he was afforded the opportunity to experience non-violent company with xie lian

his distrust slowly declines when he finds out that xie lian is a cultivator. despite being arguably too old to learn cultivation to the fullest extent he could have if he started a few years earlier, he still desperately wants to learn

xie lian, perceptive as ever, slowly starts teaching him bits and pieces of the basics, teaches him to meditate, takes care to keep his distance when it looks like shen jiu's getting overwhelmed

shen jiu can't help but get attached. he hates it

shen jiu decides to test xie lian before resigning himself to this

he was snappy, impatient, and argued with xie lian, when he came over, one day, waiting for some form of punishment to come, bristling like a spooked cat.

nothing came of his experiment but a slight frown from xie lian, which made shen jiu feel almost bad—xie lian almost reminded him of qi-ge, which made him feel doubly bad because he desperately wants to find him

shen jiu came to xie lian the next day with a pastry [that he stole] as an apology. and a request:

"teach me how to cultivate so i can be a disciple at the cang qiong sect"

xie lian agrees easily enough: he's been around shen jiu to see that despite the late start, he has potential to be great [especially untouched by wu yanzi and his twisted form of cultivation]

shen jiu throws himself into his studies, working himself to the bone

xie lian is concerned by this and after trying to soften the load of his work doesn't make shen jiu slow down, he becomes stern: warns him against trying to chase too much frivolously

this leads to a breakdown of sorts—where shen jiu gets angry, dismissive, before becoming upset. the average emotional depth of a teenager but, like, 4 times worse because of the circumstances

xie lian coaxes the story out of shen jiu here; qi-ge [the first time he's mentioned aloud by name], the qiu household [only the barest of details. shen jiu refuses to dwell], and the night shen jiu made qi-ge leave, as well as qi-ge's promise to come back

shen jiu finishes by telling xie lian he needs to make it back to qi-ge, needs to see if he's still alive, he's been selfish for sticking around as long

shen jiu tells xie lian that he needs to figure out as much as he can, as fast as he can, so he can leave and make his way to cang qiong mountain with some sort of base knowledge to make it in. and that he's not sorry for pushing himself because he doesn't have time

xie lian is quiet for a while

puts a comforting hand on shen jiu's shoulder and tells him he understands; he knows someone who would do anything to make it back to the one they loved, understands the pain that comes when time and distance separates the two

however, xie lian tells him, he can't let shen jiu push himself. he'll only stunt his progress by hurting himself rather than speed things up

shen jiu is ready to argue again before xie lian offers to make the trip with him

shen jiu doesn't believe it at first—who would bother with helping him for this long if they weren't getting anything out of it? he already found this hard to believe, let alone the fact that xie lian would drop everything to travel with him for weeks on end

xie lian doesn't shake in his resolve, though. shen jiu figures out he's being serious and wants to argue, but he's just—relieved

so many people have stood as roadblocks on his path back to qi-ge; xie lian might be the first person actively trying to help them

it almost reignites hope in him; someone other than him believes in them. someone other than shen jiu thinks they'll make it back to each other and succeed in reuniting. xie lian's faith in him is like a gust of wind beneath his wings

he agrees to their road trip

[xie lian makes sure to tell his beloved he'll be away for a while]

[shen jiu doesn't notice that xie lian buys steamed buns off the same stranger in nearly every town they stop by for a night of rest in the following few weeks]

[xie lian notices, years later, when shen qingqiu doesn't recognize him upon their first meeting in decades. shen yuan doesn't know xie lian, but xie lian knows this isn't shen jiu, anymore]

#i've had this idea in my head for a few months now #only just finding the time to write everything out #i'll write this on ao3 eventually! trust me i will i promise just need to defeat exams first #hua cheng stalking xie lian w a forced smile on his face: who the hell is this fraud and why is he stealing my husbands attention #xie lian with a happy lil smile: theyre just like us san lang he's learning cultivation to find and protect his beloved isnt it so wonderfu #hua cheng letting go of the steamed bun smushed to pieces in his hand: ah yeah sounds great. sooo cute gege. come home soon. Please. ^_^ #xie lian meeting shen jiu: what a lovely young man #shen jiu half feral and armed with the worst attitude known to man: who the hell is this fraud #svsss #tgcf #mxtx #shen jiu #shen qingqiu #xie lian #hua cheng #svsss au #svsss fanfiction #scum villain #scum villain self saving system #the scum villain's self saving system #heaven official's blessing

[lendmyboyfriendahand]

Crack fic where Maedhros and Maglor have no concept of half elven ages

__

"We can't take them back with us," Maedhros said.

"They're just children though, they won't survive on their own!"

"That's exactly the point!"

"What do you mean? I know children won't be much use in the fortress, but we can feed two spare mouths."

"They're far too young for us to be able to care for them."

"Come on, they look like they're at least twenty. I'm sure they know calculus and how to spin by now, even if they're not yet tall and strong enough for more."

"You haven't been keeping track of diplomatic news, or indeed of time at all. We sacked Doriath not three decades ago, and Elwing their mother was an infant then."

"Humans grow fast." Maglor shrugged. "She obviously grew enough to have children, and within a year or two."

"Gil-Galad mentioned that Elwing gave birth to twin boys in a letter only six years ago. And before you ask, I'm sure she didn't also have older children, these were very clearly the first heirs for the Iathrim."

"What? But - they're so tall!"

"Like you say, men grow fast. They grow unevenly though, without enough time to learn everything properly. Those boys may not even know their letters, or how to identify pewter from lead."

"At six years old, what do they even eat? Celebrimbor nursed until he was nearly eight!"

"They might be old enough to survive weaning, but I'm not sure, and we have no one breastfeeding in our camp at the moment, without anyone born since the Nirnaeth."

"I've heard of using cow's milk or sheep's milk to feed babies, rather than just making cheese. Do you think they'd tolerate it?"

"Maybe, but we can't be sure. It's better to leave them here with all the other people who's homes we destroyed; there were enough babies wailing during the battle someone can surely take in the princes."

"Perhaps, if anyone finds them in the next day. Most people fled the city, and I doubt they'll return before the fires die down."

"I'm not going to take in infants just to let them starve."

"Me neither! But I can ask them if they're weaned. They understand Sindarin, and talk, at least enough to call for their mother."

"A child that young will just say they eat nothing but honey and cake, if you let them choose their diet."

"If they know they like cake, that means they can eat solids, and I'll give them normal food."

"Fine. You can ask them, and if they're weaned they'll survive as well with us as any where else."

"And if they're not?"

"I send a couple scouts to follow the sounds of screaming children and deliver two more."

"Maedhros!"

"What? I can't bring their mother back, nor can my most imperious command make someone lactate."

"So you're giving up?"

"No, I already told you my plan." Maedhros sighed. "And I will send a few people to look for goats or ewes we can take with us. We already sacked the city; might as well loot it."

"You're convinced to make everything the most horrible possible."

"Excuse me for being pessimistic when our brothers just died for nothing."

"Fine, I'm going."

"Good."

#silm #silmarillion #my fic #kidnap fam #kidnap dads #maedhros #maglor #inspred by that post going around about babies in fantasy settings raised in caves

[luvring]

Monster mhin headcannons???? Or just mhin headcannons in general I've been starving with the lack of mhin content lately

MHIN HCS 3

gn!reader | mhin time! :3 i'm going to let the knowledgeable and big brained people mostly take care of monster mhin bc I fear a girl like me is silly and less capable...

as for my limited monster thoughts it'd be nice if their first transformation was done to protect you rather than an involuntary thing and letting it act as a symbol for your growing relationship. but Who Knows at this point

i assume there's some level of lost conscience when they transform So if there's a scene where some part of them refrains from hurting you I Will Start Eating Tree Bark.

Oh...and a scene where they've transformed back and you try to help them...them flinching and confused (though their voice comes out angry? frustrated? at first) about why you haven't run away....letting you cover them and bandage their injuries... 😵‍💫

moving on. they're on the verge of if not threatening people when it comes to co-op games like pico park or heave ho, especially if they're playing with people like vere and ais. no one's ever heard them speak this much someone needs to get them out of there

window seat enjoyer :-)

secretly enjoys when you send posts that remind you of them. the first few times they're like ? what do i do with this. but learn to appreciate it even if they don't actually reply in chat (sometimes if you're like "this is u" and it's Too accurate mhin's like Can you stop no it isn't (yes it is))

"when you're complaining about someone and your best friend is meaner" or however that trend goes. that's them. very direct with saying that person sounds like shit and you should stop talking to them

mhin may not like big, loud festivals, but i think they'd enjoy celebrating things with you alone ^^ maybe eating their favourite dish (tang yuan?)....it'd mean a lot to have someone to share with again

also!! having it for the first time and them mentioning their family and the last time they had it with people... the intimacy of it all...

and !! they reciprocate it!! they do!! they take note of any festivities you say you like, especially one that you wish you could celebrate or haven't in a long time. whether it's cultural, your birthday, your pet's birthday—mhin plans something for you and 'offers' to spend time together that day if you'd like. 'offers' as in shows up and mentions they'll be free some time in the conversation

^ more for the beginning of a relationship (platonic or romantic)... it'll take time, they'd be more direct eventually!

they care for you quietly and by...noticing. folding your laundry and putting it away when they know you're busy. picking up your favourite snacks when they notice you're running out. automatically getting ready to catch you or pull you back when the time calls for it. watching you from across the room at a party and noting where you are and how long you've been gone. that kind of deal

mhin's wary and off-put by being spoiled, but if you're stubborn enough, you'll find them using whatever you got pretty regularly. for example they'll tell you they don't Need a new softer comfier blanket, theirs is Fine, but then the one you buy is the only one they ever want to use. they will pretend like it isn't a big deal if you try to tease them about it

they don't like reading things online and would rather have a physical book. not that i'm projecting or anything of course. they take care of them too and don't lend them to just anybody

i think mhin has actual bookmarks, or would at least like them. they might also use a receipt to mark their page but won't fold the corners...

they always put books back where they found them at the library/book store. if they find one in the wrong section, they'll put it in the right place themself

they can get upset, but don't cry super easily, but that's mostly because they've gotten used to suppressing their emotions. they do their best to channel it into anger instead

mhin isolating themself when they're upset,, conflicted over wanting to be happy and letting themself drown in the sadness. but in the end they hope and survive and will continue to do so

hmm... keeps information of their family and history close to them, but at some point i do think they'd (bittersweetly) share stories with quiet fondness

mhin seems like a silver jewelry kind of person but i just think they'd look really nice with gold earrings while pushing their hair behind their ear...

they see You in formal attire for the first time and keep trying to glance at you the entire night btw. they might not take initiative to compliment you, but if you ask if you look alright, they'll say yes you look nice

...? likes earphones more than headphones. can't tell you why i feel this way

light sleeper. i think. they always know when you can't sleep and they'll stay up with you. if you say you'll go sleep somewhere else so you don't bother them, they're like ..? no.

...affectionate mhin....NOOOOO... it takes so long for them to reach that point it's literally like when a cat finally trusts you and lies next to you/on your lap You Cannot Move Now. You're both obligated to stay here and don't Want to do Anything else.

like imagine cuddling them and they hug you back and their grip tightens in their sleep when you shift around. mhin burying their face into your neck and taking a deep breath. please

if you're an introvert and you both finally get home after a long day out, it's just like. Thank god. and i think they'd understand if you'd rather spend time alone to recover ^^ but depending on the crowd there will be a gossip/complaint session at some point

mhin is one of the top LI's for me when it comes to scenes of like, fixing their collar/clothes. the intimacy of them clasping your necklace, the tension and bated breath because you've never been this close. the surprise on their face when you reach to fix their hood etc.

they enjoy sneaking up on you. they end up in some corner of the room and while you're scanning the crowd to look for them, they suddenly speak from behind you. there's a hint of an amused smile when you jump

@semifilms @mitskiologist @sweet-milky-tea705 hiii

#touchstarved game #touchstarved #mhin #mhin x reader #thinking of kyo from fruits basket transformation... being recognized and loved despite it all....NAOOOOOO

[microwaveable-squish-cheese13]

➤ doe ..

this was js sm i had in my notes, figured id try and post it 🤷‍♀️

pairing: simon 'ghost' riley + medic!reader

the feeling of having an animal's life in your hands was one you couldn't shake.

hunting made you uneasy. ending the beautiful pattern and cycle of another creature's life was something that would grow to eat away at your soul.

you were an impeccable opposite to most of the other people here.

now, that doesn't mean that the other's found pleasure in the act of killing- ending a life and simply moving on with your own.

many had simply grown numb to the feeling. but you knew that there were still a few that felt the same aching pain you did when you would imagine how easily a knife could cut through the delicate string that was life.

you'd seen it firsthand, too.

each of the lines on your palm had been soaked in the blood of another as you desperately grasped at every option to save this delicate string from snapping and shattering.

you knew a bullet to the heart was all it took for this to happen. but if it didn't, you wouldn't have a job.

you would heal rather than hurt. it filled the little gap in your body with something that felt like it could help the growing guilt you felt for every life you couldn't save. every family you indirectly broke.

in return, you grew to treasure the things you had now and not search for anything more than that. you were nurturing and warm, but yet so cold. no one could sneak in and make a place in your heart or your home or your bed. no one.

and just like that, you became a mystery.

you weren't scary or anything. not some looming mass of impending death and ill intent like other mysteries were. you were still kind and warm and everything a medic needed to be, but no one knew anything but that.

then you were hauled from your old post and thrown into the cesspool they called Task Force 141. your skill was highly recommended and appreciated by the captain--- Price, was it?

Garrick was the first of the group you let yourself attach to. he was easy to let yourself down with. with all his jokes and warm outer shell, he was a delightful man. easy to fall in love with too, if you wanted that. but you didn't.

each joke cracked your shell just a bit more.

Soap was next. despite the horribly ugly haircut and honestly repulsing stature, he was a good man and an even better friend.

then Price. he smelled of wood and cinnamon and it made your lips twitch up every time the smell filled your senses. his warm eyes and even warmer words to offer.

this group became your family. each and every one of them. each smile and each word that finally graced your lips was because of them.

it was like something had been opened and that little sliver of light slipped through and your team held it.

all except Ghost.

his eyes would never meet yours. never fully, at least. they would just burn behind that mask of his, simmering in their deadly and dark way. you had seen what he could do and had to deal with the aftermath of it.

but you had never dealt with him. he wouldn't let you heal him. he avoided you like you were the plague itself. but, why?

you had no fucking idea.

Soap would say it was because of how opposite the two of you were.

"the pair of you are like the sun and the fuckin' undertaker, i'm tellin' you." he would tell you. you merely shrugged in the way that you always did. (💀)

but he never stood beside you like the other's would. always in front of you, right there where he could see you.

he didn't think you fit in. not one bit.

like a deer in a pen of wolves. all eyes hoping to swallow you whole, all hands itching to touch what they can't. all of the sex-starved men dying to touch the newest doe in the woods.

you and your big pretty eyes...

you and your small demeanor and even smaller hands.

you and your pretty cheeks that would adorn the shadows of your eyelashes when the sun hit you right.

you.

and you were just a medic. many of the men would throw themselves in harms way or make up fake illnesses to see you. to feel you touch them as you would examine them.

it irked him. truly, it did.

because you were so goddamn fucking oblivious to it all. the way you willingly helped them and had no knowledge of the vile things they said about you in the halls and the barracks. (yikes.)

and you...

you left him be. you didn't press him, you didn't say anything to him without him talking to you first. you excepted the fact that he wanted nothing do with you.

...

it was getting warm again.

summer was creeping up around the corner, brushing her sweet fingers over the hills and across the forest rooftops, gifting the world with new lives. just like every spring did.

you creeped out from your room, your socks doing little to keep your skin from tingling against the cold flooring as you trudged into the main area. the team always packed in here on their days off.

after poking around with the coffee maker for a while, still unsuccessful at getting the coffee you needed, Price spoke up from his spot leaning against the counter.

"hey, ya' know that's broke, right?" he asked, his voice drawing a low groan of annoyance to slip from your lips.

"fucking really?"

"... yeah. Soap put water where the filter was meant to be." from their left, Soap let out a sharp gasp. "hey!" he tried, glaring back at Price. the older man tilted his head at the scott and shrugged.

"yeah. it was honestly pathetic to watch." that was a new voice.

you turned your head, feeling small in your sweater. you felt your own skin grow tight and this uncomfortable heat spread across your body. fuck.

your lieutenant walked in, mug in hand. he wasn't wearing his gear. no one was. they had a day off. a day of peace and normalcy, even if it was for a heartbeat.

your pulse thundered in your ears, the blood rushing through your body all at once as his cold eyes landed on you again. your eyes met his dead brown ones and you swear to whatever god is up there that his jaw twitched under his mask.

"oh fuck off, LT." was Soap's response. but his voice barely registered in your mind.

he didn't wear the skull mask this morning. only the balaclava. meaning; his upper half of his face was visible. but, of course, he wore that dreaded black hoodie and his sweatpants.

at least it wasn't his gear...

but he looked... human. and it hit something inside of you. "morning." your voice was small as it rasped out from your lips. his only response was a small nod, then he moved over to sit down across from Gaz.

"coffee?" Garrick asked, nodding towards the mug in Ghost's hand. the bigger man shook his head in response, his leg bouncing ever so slightly. "tea."

"of course." Soap scoffed from the other room. "you bloody brit's and your tea." you swallowed back a smile as all three of the other men groaned in annoyance.

"surprised you're not wearing a kilt, Johnny." Ghost sneered back, raising his eyebrows. Garrick snickered, taking a bite of his bagel. you let a soft laugh pass through your lips, the sound bubbling up like sweet honey as it filled the still air.

eyes.

there were those eyes again- burning into your skull and burrowing in your chest to heat your whole body.

you had laughed- at his joke. why did that make his pulse jump? it was a foreign and forgotten feeling under his cold skin.

then the eyes were gone. back on his tea and anything else but you. the fragile thing that you wear... hardly any muscle on your little body. only a pretty face and big, round eyes that anyone would say yes to if you pleaded with them.

it was as if you had no idea what you were.

and maybe you didn't.

but he sure did.

"leave him be, LT." Price said, waving a hand. "yeah, casper." you muttered, finding the strength to meet Ghost's eyes with your own. it was as if the world started to crumble under you, your body aching and burning and humming with your pulse.

"leave him be."

Ghost paused, his cheek twitching slightly.

"who the fuck is Casper?"

your brows furrowed slightly, head tilting like a deer's would when they heard something deep in the woods. "wha- who's casper?" you asked, a hand on your hip.

"Casper. the ghost? it's a movie, man."

"yeah.. not ringin' a bell, love."

even he noticed his slip. love. your skin went cold, then burst into flame all at once. your face felt hot and you felt the heat pound between your legs.

love.

love.

love.

love.

lov-

"you there, doc?" Soap's voice chirped in with its usual mocking tone. you swallowed thickly, trying to rid your mind of every thought the darkest corner of your brain churned up.

you straightened your lips into a tight line, hoping no one noticed the thoughts swimming through your brain.

Ghost shifted his hips up, his eyes half-lidded and dark as he pulled the mug to his lips as he pulled back his mask to drink.

his lips. oh my fucking god-

for a white guy, they weren't bad. there was a jagged scar that ran down one of them... the top one. a soft cupid's bow, the bottom was a bit bigger than the top.

imagine them running over your skin, leaving love marks to bloom across your skin like sweet memories... imagine them over your own, or over your jaw or your neck... or down your sternum---

you were staring, weren't you?

oh, yeah. yeah you were.

"doc?" Price's voice. "you catchin' somethin'?" he had asked. but you barely heard him as you tried to calm your breathing and tear your eyes away from the poor lieutenant.

"yeah i um... i jus' don't feel too hot. can i.. uh.. i'll just be-" you looked back at your room. "back. back there."

oh what the fuck was that, man?

perfect save, really. you fucking nailed that one.

a flurry of yeah's and okay's hummed out from their lips, a few worried glances passing your own.

when you were hidden behind your door again, the heat grew and grew and simmered and stayed there. it lingered and festered just as the memory of his lips and his eyes did.

and that was only the first 'incident.'

...

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #john price #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #kyle gaz garrick #first post #Spotify

[vellichor01]

ACOTAR Love Languages

A/N: So, I genuinely believe that the love languages are more of a guideline than anything, but also that the ways people show love isn't necessarily the way they give love. So I made this for my favorite men in the ACOTAR series. Hope you enjoy!

Rhysand

Gives love in the form of gifts and words of affirmation.

He gives so generously of himself all the time.

Whether it's a dress made specifically for you, or a gift based on your favorite hobby, or a skill you're trying to hone.

He will tell you he loves you six ways to Sunday.

Telling how proud he is of you, how beautiful you are

Leaves you notes everywhere

But he needs words of affirmation.

More than probably anyone on this list

He needs to be told that he's redeemable

That he's not a monster

That he's worthy of love

That he's worthy of you

That he is kind and that he is good

Cassian

Gives love in the form of acts of service

He believed for so long that he was only worth anything for what he can do, rather than for who he is

Will absolutely cook for you, any day of the week

He will run you a bubble bath, and wash your hair, and give you a whole body massage after a long day

He will brush your hair and braid it for you

But he never feels so loved as he does when you're spending time with him

It doesn't have to be anything fancy

Grocery shopping

Reading books together on the couch

Cuddling together in bed

Doing puzzles

Or training at the gym

It really doesn't matter

Because you could be doing these things with anyone

But you choose to do them with him

And it warms his heart so much

Azriel

He shows love through quality time

He spent so much time alone growing up that he never wants you to feel that way.

He'll set you on the counter while he's cooking so you can talk about your day

He'll stay in bed with you until the last possible minute before you have to leave for work

He'll sit on the couch while you rant about your newest book with the biggest smile on his face

But he relishes physical touch

But only from you

He's so touch starved

Holding your hand out in public

You always sit side by side when you're eating just so he can rest his legs against yours

Sitting in the couch, running your fingers through his hair

Massaging his aching muscles when he gets back from a mission

The way you will run to the front door as soon as he gets home to give him a hug and kiss

And he will scoop you up immediately, bury his face in your neck and just relax and breathe in the fact that you're still there and that you're his.

Lucien

This man is a gift giver

He'll gift you weapons

Or plushies

Or neat trinkets from Day Court

He loves the way your face lights up every time you open a present from him

And it's not always extravagant

Sometimes it's just a coffee from your favorite shop

Or a new book that you've been talking about

But you appreciate it all the same and he loves you for it

And he's not materialistic by any means, but he loves when you give him gifts too

Being the youngest brother and not being well loved by his family meant a lot of hand me downs or going without

So he loves whenever you go out of your way to get him something, no matter how small

And if you make him something, he'll probably tear up a little

You have a friendly competition over Solstice presents

Eris

He will show you he loves you by spending time with you

He's so busy with High Lord duties and Court politics and whatnot

But he always makes sure to have time for you

Even if all he can do is have you sit on his lap while he does paperwork

Or carve out an hour to go get lunch

He will always find a way to make time for you

And he loves when you give him acts of service

Keeping your home clean so he can devote all of his time solely to you when he gets home

Bringing him lunch that you've made for him

Probably the most traditional dynamic of any of them, but you make it work for you

Helion

He shows you love with physical touch

Will not let you leave the house without a hug and kiss

Pulls you onto his lap while you're reading

Cuddles with you every night without fail

Keeps your arms linked together when you're out walking

Will absolutely press a little kiss to your temple as you're falling asleep

But this man needs to spend time with you

He waited so long for you to walk into his life that he never wants a second to go by without you

Your nightly ritual is sitting there reading to each other over tea

You spend so much time together in his library, for work and pleasure alike, and he wouldn't have it any other way

Thank you so much to @writingsbychlo and @clairebear08 for being so encouraging as I've started writing again! I appreciate you both so much

#acotar #rhysand #cassian #azriel #lucien #eris vanserra #helion spell cleaver #acotar headcanon #acotar imagine

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hey i love your blog thank you for doing these imagines!

Can i request an half dragon beastkin reader x Izutsumi? Maybe they found them chained up somewhere in the dungeon and laios and them set them free?

Of course dear anon, and congratulations on being my first izutsumi focused ask

The dungeon held many secrets in its labyrinthian halls, Secrets of magic ancient and powerful, Secrets of Shady Deals among less than savory criminals, Secrets of viscious monsters, Secrets of life and death, But some secrets....were much darker than others.

As the group was travelling they heard a strange sound, it sounded like a person in trouble so they followed the sound to its source. It was a iron gate in the ground with a chain on it, around the gate were the bodies of various criminals who seemingly had been killed by an orc raid. As chilchuck and izutsumi listened they heard labored breathing and quickly laios broke open the lock on the chain as they opened the door, there eyes widening at what they saw

A beastkin looked up at them, They had hard reptile scales that covered there body, large clawed hands and feet scraped at the stone floor as a large tail moved behind them, large horns adorning the figures head. You looked up squinting your eyes and covering them, it had been so long since you had seen light.

Izutsumi was the first to notice, large chains were wrapped around your limbs and neck keeping you trapped in place. At first nobody moved, afraid that you were some sort of criminal or were dangerous. Laios asking you why you were down here, you explained that the thugs outside kept you chaine dup down here to show off to other people as a freakshow for coin, normally they would be guarding the gate but you heard them get attacked by orcs and they all must have died. You honestly figured you were going to die in this whole, left to starve to death.

Before anyone could react izutsumi grabbed chilchuck and jumped down into the hole. She put the half-foot down and told him to pick the locks on the chains to get you out now! everyone was surprised at how urgent she sounded, marcille asking what was going on with her. She scowls saying she know what its like to be shown off like a freak and she isnt going to let anyone deal with that.

Everyone agrees and chilchuck picks the locks as you feel the weight of the chains slide off you, you stand up showing just how tall you were compared to everyone else, cracking your neck as you breathed a sigh of joy at your newfound freedom. You tell laios your in there debt and want to help them on there adventure to save his sister, and you join them from then on.

You got along well with everyone in the group, of course laios kept asking you questions about being half dragon but you didnt mind. But it was izutsumi you seemed to be the closest with, She often spent her time being near you. The two of you chatting and talking about being beastkin. Her explaining how it was forced on her when she was a little child and cant remember anything before it. Normally she wouldnt talk about this with anyone...but your different, you get what she has been through, and she feels more comfortable with you than anyone else. You put your hand on her shoulder and comfort her telling her that your sorry she has gone through all this, and that hopefully you guys can find a cure for this curse on her.

You two began to grow closer, She moved from sleeping in the same cot as chilchuck to sleeping with you in your cot. Her commenting how your body is alot warmer than chilchuck and your perfect to lay on top of and fall asleep on. Whenever she falls asleep on top of you, you cant help but put one arm around her and drift off to sleep rather quickly, since she started doing this you have never slept better.

Whenever senshi cooks food she is always sneaking the bits she doesnt like into your portions of food, now having a place to dump the veggies she doesnt like. You are always more than happy to eat them for her, and in return you let her have some of the stuff she does like from your food. you two basically sharing food portions together.

The two of you are incredibly protective of each other, any time the group fights a monster you two are close by each other. Fighting in unison and defeating the monsters that the mad mage sends after you. And when either of you gets hurt, the other one cant relax until whoever got hurt is better. Izutsumi tries to play it off, but her tail will constantly flick as she sits next to you as marcille heals you up.

One night when you two are laying together, Izutsumi is up much later than she usually is. You could tell she was tense about something so you ask her if everything is ok. she hesitates for a moment before speaking up. "yeah it is...its better than ok, thats the problem. Ever since i met you i just...ive never felt like this before you know? ive never really cared about anyone else but myself, after all im the only one thats ever been there for me all my life...but its different with you. I cant stop thinking about you, i worry about you when you get hurt...and i hate not being around you. But it makes my chest feel tight and my head fuzzy when im around you and i keep smiling, im not used to this and i dont know what is going on. Im not used to it and...im scared, ive never felt like this and its so weird to me...i really like it..but it feels so weird i just..." She trails off, her tail flittering as she hides her face in your chest, even through her fur you can feel her blush. "i think i really like you...i really like you alot. But im scared, ive never liked anyone like this before and im scared cause im so used to just being by myself that....that the idea of being with another person all the time and relying on another person scares me, but i really want to be with you, even the idea of depending on another person scares me,but if i dont say anything its going to keep eating me alive.." she said looking up at you, You look at her stunned for a moment. This was unlike her, izutsumi was never one to be open about her emotions. She always did what she wanted and didnt care about what anyone else thought, she was a self reliant woman and other than with you she was never really the friendliest person ever. So to see her being so open with her feelings, being open about her fear and being so vulnerable was something you never expected from her.

You squeeze her tight towards you, your tail wrapping up with hers as as you place a soft kiss on her forehead. you tell her that you feel the same about her. That you love her and the idea of being with her is something you have dreamed of, and that you want nothing more than to always be there for her. You promise her that you will always be there for her and she never has to deal with the world by herself anymore.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi x reader #izutsumi #izutsumi x reader

[ciphykiss]

dating mikey headcanons

description: f!reader, sfw, school!romance, mikey being a dork, tooth-rotting fluff ♬♪♫

mikey in love is such an... odd experience. he's a textbook tsundere but in the strangest way; much like the contrast between ringleader mikey and the mikey that's around his closest circle, mikey in love would be just as much of a jumpscare.

i headcanon mikey has quite literally 0 experience in romance. nada. zilch. absolutely nothing. guy's always been for the boys (the opposite of a girl's girl; a boy's boy *shudder*); and while there likely had been a number of girls that had crushes and admired him from a distance, none of them had the balls to even glance at him too long, much less confess.

that's not to say the concept of love is completely foreign to him; he sees the way his homeboys get flustered around pretty girls, the way emma fawns over draken, and he's not stupid enough to not notice the adoration his best friend has for his sister. he knows it exists, in concept—just not in practice.

so when he starts noticing the way your hair falls over your shoulder in class (not that he attends much), how your eyes light up when you eat your favorite dessert, & the way he blanks out in a daze when you hold his hand for the first time after losing draken, emma, takemitchy, and hina (triple date!! or rather, the girls roped you into it) in a theme park crowd (because all of them had noticed long before the two of you), allowing you to tug him along as you please, completely pliant, he doesn't know what it is. your hand is warm and he is warmer, there's something blooming in the pit of his stomach and in his chest, and mikey feels the same way he had when kazutora hammered him with a crowbar, only twice as lightheaded.

he doesn't even recognize there's something different until you manage to hunt down the girls with their respective beaus and breathe a sigh of relief because finally you'd found draken and could hand over the compressed nuclear bomb of a delinquent to more capable hands.

and mikey finds, when you let go of his hand, that he misses your warmth; he stares at the space previously occupied by you, how your fingers had laced around his, secure and soft against his calloused ones; and he'd felt safe, for the first time in years, because he wasn't the boy-delinquent of the house or the leader of toman or a big brother trying desperately to fill in the shoes of his predecessor.

it's a collection of events that tick his mental checkboxes; how often he'd find himself staring at you (until you'd get creeped out by his unreadable, dead-fish eyes + how impassive his gaze was and made a face), how he had certain urges to win over your touch after that day at the theme park, or when you'd raised a brow at his bleeding knuckles and all it took was a single tap of your fingers over the broken flesh to have him starving, or how he had the inexplicable urge to bash baji's face in after seeing the two of you chat away in the corner during a toman hangout (he stared at the two of you all ( ⓛ ω ⓛ ) until you both sweatdropped & you stopped playing with baji's stupid hair (he had long hair too you know??))

i retcon that naturally, you'd be slightly more intimidated by mikey than any of the other toman members (not that you were particularly close to the group besides a select few and the girls), because mikey is, well, mikey. it isn't until he grows frustrated with your natural aversion to him versus the others (because why the hell did you seek out baji when you wanted to play hair and why didn't you yell at him when he did something stupid or grab him by the collar and scream expletives when he went too fast on his bike) that your dynamic begins to change.

mikey will neither confess nor woo you like a normal guy would. nope. way too cool emotionally underdeveloped for that. expect him to storm up to you pouting after he's through with being disrespected and drag you to his bike to give you a ride home instead. because baji is just as stupid as mikey (and one of the few people that are dense enough not to notice his feelings), he'll stress out an aggravated "hah? you pickin' a fight, mikey??" & draken knocks him on the side of his head while chifuyu facepalms at his leader's stupidity.

you're paralyzed with fear because this is sano-freaking-mikey whose bike you're strapped to, and it isn't until he revs his engine and bolts off without warning that you let out a shrill and cling to his back to avoid vehicular manslaughter

you're dating him from that day on. it doesn't matter if you yourself don't realize it or if he never spat out the actual words or how he tells draken and emma to stfu when they smirk knowingly at him and wiggle their brows (occasionally mitsuya joins in but he's not quite as insufferable). he will hog all your attention, drag you out of class to 'entertain' him (aka feed him or just lay his head on your lap to sunbathe (like a cat!! (but dw he's mindful not to do this on test days bc he doesn't want you failing))), climb up to your window at 3 AM like a friggin serial killer so he can cuddle you to sleep (he does this when his impulses are triggered; mans will literally soak in the rain until you let him in)

while you may have been oblivious to his advances before, it's not long before you realize the two of you are exclusive; mikey is pretty convincing.

it takes a month or so for his childish parts to come out. his boyish quirks, normally reserved for draken, take the form of more outward bluntness and tantrums; unnerving stares turn to tugs to his chest and whines of "pay attention to me", stolen scrunchies (they will never touch another hair on baji's head again), to pathetic cries for attention like walking up to you with his hair in a disarray or bruises he'd collected on purpose.

he loves it when you fawn over him. he once demanded you paint his nails and since then, you'd keep a bottle of black polish (he's not quite so fond of pastels) and handcream in your schoolbag to apply during passing period.

openly steals your hair ties, clips, jewelry.

super cringe but he would 100% ask for a bra strap bracelet. would wear it with pride.

get matching game pfps and lockscreens with him or you die.

you will always lose pocky games.

would be the type to steal your phone and take candids of himself/his friends doing embarrassing shit (best part is they can't delete it) for you to laugh at later

this isn't to say he doesn't have a protective side; mikey's bad with feelings, but he's the type to hide your face in his jacket if you're crying in public so you can save face/be open with your grief, listen in silence to your pain (when there's nothing he can beat up), and sit with you until you're stable.

will drop whatever he's doing and come to you in the middle of the night if you need him. then proceed to take you on a night ride to his favorite spots in the city to get things off your mind.

mikey's a boy's boy; he’s gotta be with a girl's girl.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev fluff #mikey sano #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev headcanons #tokyo revengers headcanons #sano manjiro #tokrev #sfw #there's three cute songs linked under the music notes that I think describe this post hehe #tokyo revengers mikey #if ur taller than mikey (me too lmao) just pretend ur teasing him about his height in the pic

[frownyalfred]

Hello! I’m not Jewish and I just learned about Pikuach Nefesh. Being Jewish yourself, I’m guessing you have a lot of thoughts on this and how it relates to Bruce’s no-kill policy. I’d be really interested in hearing them if you want to make a post!

Hey friend!

I absolutely have thoughts, but I must begin with a disclaimer:

My perspective does not cover all Jews, nor is it the authority on what is or isn't Jewish. I grew up Reform/Reconstructionist, in an ethnically Ashkenazi Jewish family, and these are just my thoughts as a Batman blog.

Another important note: different types of Jews hold the halacha (rules/principles) of Judaism to be far more important in their lives. An Orthodox Jew will observe halacha much more strictly than a Reform Jew. Despite what some people will tell you, this doesn't make either of them better. Just different.

Whew, okay. Now that that's out of the way, let's get down to business.

What is Pikuach Nefesh?

In very general terms, Pikuach Nefesh (hard ch sound in the back of your throat) allows Jews to override other religious "rules" or values in the pursuit of preserving or saving a life.

A good example of this is a an Orthodox Jewish person, who, following halacha, will not drive or operate items with electricity during the Sabbath (Shabbat). But what happens if someone has a heart attack and they need to call 911? Pikuach Nefesh would permit them to use electricity, despite it being Shabbat.

If a Jewish person who keeps total kosher is in a situation where they will starve if they do not eat non-kosher food, they are permitted to eat non-kosher food.

Exceptions

There are some notable exceptions to Pikuach Nefesh, which I suspect is what your question is getting at. The threat to an individual's life generally has to be known, urgent, and not abstract.

Murder is another large exception, with some conditions. Generally, the intentional act of killing another person, or injuring them to the point where they might die from their injuries, is not an act that can be permitted by the principle of Pikuach Nefesh.

The slim exceptions to this include highly specific cases of self defense of oneself or another against an aggressor. One may kill to preserve a life in very strict situations, but they cannot murder. There are even times where killing is obligated, such as war.

So how does this relate to Batman/Bruce's no-killing rule?

Okay. So. I've had a lot of discussions with folks about this, and the answer I've learned is: it doesn't. Not really.

Pikuach Nefesh refers to the principle that a Jewish person should preserve life over almost any other rule or halacha. It does, actually, permit Bruce to kill under very specific situations. It does actually forbid him from gravely injuring people and doing so in the name of fighting against abstract threats, which are both things he does in canon.

The last time I wrote about this, I was definitely off about the details of Pikuach Nefesh in regard to Batman. I was corrected and I stand by that correction. I didn't grow up in the Orthodox faith and I don't observe much of their halacha, which is where a lot of religious theory questions arise from. I'm not an expert, and my explanation is only as deep as my own experience.

I think a good way of looking at Pikuach Nefesh is not as a way to define what, if any, killing is acceptable, but rather, what are we obligated to do to save a life?

The more important Jewish principle shaping Batman's ideology (in my opinion)

"Whoever saves one life, saves the world entire."

This is much more of an important focal point for Bruce's Jewish-influenced ideology. The flipside of this quote, from the Talmud, is equally important: "Whoever kills one life, kills the world entire."

Bruce's no-killing rule is famously tied to his parents' deaths during his childhood. In a way, his entire world ended with their murder. He sees his mission to clean up Gotham as a way to prevent that loss from occurring for anyone else.

Saving one person, like he tells Barry in Justice League, is enough. That is a viciously Jewish thought. It is frequently quoted in reference to those who acted in support of Jews during the Holocaust, doing what little they could against a fountain of evil.

Conclusion

In that regard, yes -- Pikuach Nefesh tells us that preserving a life is the most important thing above all else. But Bruce's no-killing rule would swiftly be broken if he followed the principle of Pikuach Nefesh closely, in that he would a) likely have to kill someone in self-defense at some point in his duties and b) it would not allow him to injure or hurt people to the extent that he currently does in canon.

More importantly, Bruce's no-killing rule is a better reflection of the Talmudic quote that "he who saves/kills a life, has saved/killed a world entire."

It is not much of a stretch, in my opinion, to connect Bruce's trauma from losing his parents at young age to his outright refusal to kill later in life. The more interesting question, in my mind, is if the creation of this no-killing rule truly was shaped by Batman's Jewish creators and their view on life and death, especially post Holocaust.

Comics became more widely available during and after WWII and the Holocaust, during which time many -- many -- Jews entered the field as writers and artists. Their influences on the characters we see today are obvious, often intentionally Jewish, but just as often un-intentional.

Was Batman's no-killing rule a product of the post-WWII Jewish comic writers who shaped his character? Was it a coincidence that lined up well with the Talmud, but not necessarily all the conditions of Pikuach Nefesh?

How else does Batman represent, or not represent, the goal of Pikuach Nefesh (the necessity that a person act in the preservation of human life, above almost all else)?

#sorry for the long ramble here #I hope this doesn't become inflammatory #jewish bruce wayne #jewish batfamily #jewish batman #asks #again: no expert #two jews three opinions #bruce wayne #batman #dc #pikuach nefesh #again if I got this wrong #i apologize

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hey! i’m the relationship anon from some time earlier and this time i’m here with a request, i hope you don’t mind :)

first of all your writing is absolutely the best and you’re super talented!! i found your blog earlier than i first sent you a message and i must say reading your snippets always brings me emotions- i absolutely love you (as a writer and you seem a great person)!

now for the request itself i guess :) may i please read something soft? not anything new/unusual in my request but anyway, maybe with either the hero or the villain being touch starved and the other finding it out, and then some teasing and overall kinda fluff? please- :)

thanks in advance and no problem at all if you don’t wanna do it!

“Your hands are so soft,” the villain mumbled. They got on top of the hero and buried their face in their neck. It was astounding that someone so tall and muscular could also be so tender. Everything about the villain screamed intimidating and yet, they always melted in the hero’s arms.

Out of reflex, the hero’s hands slipped under the villain’s shirt and drew slow shapes into the skin of their lover’s back. The hero chuckled lightheartedly. “Someone’s a bit touchy today, hm?”

As a reply, the villain hummed contently, their voice vibrating lovingly on the hero’s chest. The hero often remembered a time in which they had felt like they were the loneliest person on earth. For years, the hero had thought themselves to be unlovable, unworthy of any kind of affection. Waking up alone, eating alone, going to bed alone — it was painful.

Sometimes, they still felt this everlasting dread on them. They were breathing it in like thick fog, consuming it and without a warning they got hurled back into that time.

That only happened when the villain wasn’t around.

“Sweetheart, you stayed out of trouble this week, yes?” the hero whispered, taking the villain’s jaw in their hand to make them look at them.

“Uhm—” The hero could see their blush crawling down their body, disappearing under their shirt. “I actually did. I didn’t notice but I did.”

“I’m proud of you.” The villain averted their gaze.

“Seducing me to the good side, huh?” they mumbled. It was adorable how they played with the seam of the hero’s shirt nervously, their eyes darting in the air.

“Well, it looks good on you. Helping people, making someone else smile. I watched you play with the kids you saved the other day. You let them play with your cape,” the hero said. Sometimes, the villain went too far when they were fighting. Old habits are hard to kill. But the hero was working on that with them.

“They were asking for it. Couldn’t really say no when their parents stood right next to me,” the villain answered. It was a rather hilarious excuse.

“You could’ve said you were busy.”

“I…” Defeated, the villain buried their face in the hero’s chest again while their lover scratched their scalp carefully, running fingers through their hair with a warm precision.

“Is it that bad?” the hero asked, smiling.

“No…” the villain admitted. “It feels good to be loved. I always thought violence is all I am capable of. But maybe there’s something else.”

They pressed their face deeper into the hero’s clothes. If that was even possible.

“I think so too. You’re a good person.”

“Wish I could be like you, though. You’re so selfless it makes me want to vomit,” the villain mumbled into their shirt.

Laughing at the attempted disgust in the villain’s voice — which failed graciously — the hero lifted their lover’s face again. Without hesitation, they touched the villain’s cheeks. Palms gliding over skin. It made their villain close their eyes, muscles relaxing, breath slowing.

“I used to be very selfish. Very hot-headed and I learnt my lesson more than once. Learning compassion can be very hard when you didn’t grow up with it. You know how it is. Sickness comes from sickness. Feeds on it.”

The hero looked at their lover who seemed quite unsure now, staring at them with big eyes.

“What I’m saying is, it’s not your fault. You’re starting fresh. You can’t control the past. No need to dwell on it.”

When their villain nodded, the hint of a sleepy smile on their face, the hero wished they could live for eternity in this moment.

But when they thought about it again, they knew they could die happily tomorrow, having seen this.

#HOW HAVE YOU BEEN SWEETHEART??? #I’m so heartless you guys I could eat his heart raw I’m so obsessed with him #if y’all have ever wandered what I look like there’s an 80% chance you’ll see me in a turtleneck #other option is sleeveless tops with turtlenecks like those slutty things #I dunno why I’m telling you this? #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #fluff