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zarameraki · 4 months

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˖°🦇 ࣪𖤐 𝐭𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐫𝐝 ˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mention of suicide 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 bodyguard x senator’s daughter 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 sarcastic mmc x fmc who’s tired of his bs 𖥔 neck kissing 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 soft toji 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 toji’s not an ass for the first time 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 bathtub sex 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 5.9k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this is my first one-shot and of course it had to be about my favourite unhinged man. i promise it’s good, y’all. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

You hated being the senator’s daughter—burdened by the title you never chose. Despite the grandeur that surrounded you, you despised the life you were born into. The opulent dinners, the endless social events, and the constant scrutiny from the public were chains that bound your spirit.

If you had any spirit left to spare.

You yearned for a life of your own, away from the suffocating expectations that came with your father's political stature. You resented the polished façade you had to maintain, the carefully crafted image that hid your true self. The constant presence of the media felt like an unrelenting spotlight, casting darkness over your desire for anonymity.

The large ballroom was ablaze with sparkling lights and the murmur of conversations mingled with the soft strains of a live jazz band. You found herself at the center of attention, a reluctant participant in the grand social affair, unwillingly cornered by a persistent suitor your mother had chosen from the roster. Apparently, his family wealth and business ventures were the most fascinating topics he could think of.

You wore a forced smile and desperately sought a way out of the conversation. Your eyes darted across the room, searching for an escape route.

". . . you see, our corporation has been at the forefront of innovation for decades," the suitor boasted, gesturing expansively with his hands. "We practically built this city. My great-grandfather was a visionary, and my father has expanded our influence globally. I'm destined to take it to even greater heights."

“How wonderful,” you muttered. The suffocating aura of the suitor’s self-importance lingered in the air. Just as he reached out to place a possessive hand on your arm, a deep, graveling voice cut through the conversation.

“Careful,” warned Toji. His eyes, sharp and vigilant, locked onto your suitor’s hand, which froze in mid-air. “Take a step back, and we won’t have a problem.”

The suitor, momentarily taken aback, withdrew his hand with an affected chuckle. "Ah, my apologies. I was only admiring your bracelet. It's exquisite, really."

You shot Toji a glare as you replied, "Thank you for your compliment. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be returning home now. Senatorial matters to attend to, you understand."

His eyes narrowed, and he attempted to regain control of the situation. "But surely, darling, you wouldn't want to miss the grand finale of the evening. There's a surprise performance that my connections secured."

Before you could respond, Toji stepped forward, a stern expression on his face. "The evening is over, Mr. Mahito. She has other obligations to fulfill."

Mr. Mahito, a name you’d forgotten at his ‘hello,’ glared at Toji but wisely chose not to challenge the imposing figure. With a forced smile, he nodded and said, "Of course, I understand. Until next time."

As if.

Toji couldn't help but scoff under his breath, earning a side glance from you. "Does he ever run out of compliments for himself?"

You sighed. "He's harmless, Mr. Zenin. Just trying to impress, that’s all."

"Harmless, maybe, but annoying as fuck."

You eyed Toji with curiosity. "Why the sudden interest in my love life, Mr. Zenin? Jealousy, perhaps?"

He smirked, a rare hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "Jealousy? Princess, I guarantee you, I'm far too professional for such bullshit.”

You shot him a playful glance. "You know, if you were a little less broody and a bit more charming, you might have a chance."

His facade cracked, and a genuine smile played on his lips, that scar stealing your attention again. "Charm has its time and place.” He opened the back door of the limousine and nudged you inside. “I prefer to keep you safe."

Toji was insufferable just as he was tall. Dressed in a compressed black t-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and chiseled torso, he exuded an air of quiet intensity. The long, dark tendrils of his hair poked his half-hooded eyes that always carried a mist of amusement. He was a silent guardian who navigated seamlessly between your shadows and the limelight.

You remember the first day your father had introduced your newly assigned bodyguard. All you could do was ogle the devilishly handsome man and pray your father and his security detail didn’t hear you swallow too hard or sit with your legs clenched together.

You appreciated the fact that he was fantastic at his job. At least in the first couple of months. But after you’d started your fourth year at university, Toji practically glued himself to you.

It was like he was your shadow, and you couldn’t escape. You get it, Dad was a senator, and security is essential, but did they have to assign you the clingiest bodyguard on the planet?

You’d gone on a blind date a few weeks back with yet another pretentious finance head, and Toji had himself stationed on the table adjacent to yours. When your date had stepped out to use the bathroom, Toji leaned over the table, and you remember how his biceps had flexed and that infuriating smirk played at his lips.

"Princess," he drawled, using that irritating nickname he's given you. As if being the daughter of a senator automatically made you royalty. "You should smile more. It might help with those lines forming on your forehead."

You hoped he choked on his own smugness.

But then there were those moments when the loneliness crept in, and the isolation became too much to bear. In those moments, his sarcastic banter was a lifeline, a distraction from the weight of your responsibilities. You found yourself craving the very company you claimed to detest.

You caught him smirking as you glanced in the rearview mirror, and for a moment, you forgot about the suffocating expectations, the political games, and the constant surveillance.

It's just you and Toji.

The soft hum of the elevator filled the air as you and Toji stepped into the sleek, mirrored enclosure leading up to your apartment. You looked like you had just stepped out of a battle with a jungle cat. Your eyes, once vibrant, were now shadowed with fatigue, and your normally impeccable hair fell in disarray around your shoulders.

You sighed, the weariness evident. "I can't believe this day. Non-stop meetings, interviews, endless parties, and galas. I feel like I've been running a marathon in heels."

"Well, at least you made it out in one piece, Princess."

You fired him a tired glare. "Don't call me that. You know I hate it."

"Sure thing, Your Highness," he replied, a teasing edge in his voice.

As the elevator smoothly ascended, your legs wobbled, and you swayed slightly. Without thinking, you reached out for support, your hand landing on Toji’s muscular arm. He felt the sudden weight and turned to look at you, eyebrows raised to the roof.

"Whoa there, easy," he said, his voice softer than before.

You blushed an outlandish shade of red. "I'm sorry. I'm just so exhausted. I didn't mean to—"

Toji cut you with a grin, his tone filled with mock concern. "Princess, if you're going to faint, at least do it gracefully. No need to ruin my reputation as the best bodyguard in town."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile played on your lips. "I'm not going to faint. Just a moment of weakness. That’s possible for even women like me, you know."

He chuckled. "Well, weak moments can be dangerous, especially in this line of work. You never know who might take advantage."

The elevator pinged, announcing their arrival at your floor. You straightened up, a renewed sense of determination in your eyes. "Thanks for the concern, tough guy, but I'll manage." You punched in the key code of your apartment door, the security light flashing green. "You can head home now. I’ll be fine from here."

"Oh, absolutely, Princess. But you know the drill—protocol and all. Can't leave the precious cargo unattended until it's safely delivered to its destination."

Your patience was wearing thin as you turned and brushed chests with the jester in black. “Mr. Zenin, for the hundredth time, I don't need an escort to my front door. I can handle myself."

Toji chuckled, the sound low and teasing. "Sure, sure. But what if a rogue pigeon attacks you on your way in? Or a gust of wind blows too hard, and you lose your balance? It's a treacherous world out there."

“We are indoors. There’s no rogue pigeons or a windstorm.”

Toji wore his stubbornness alongside his pride. “Just doin’ my job.”

You sighed, realizing arguing with him was futile. "Fine, come in if it makes you feel better, but then you're leaving."

"Sure," he said, holding the door open with a flourish as you entered the sterile, monochromatic apartment. From the high ceilings to the marble flooring, it was all your mother’s idea. For God’s sake, it was your apartment. You wanted earthly tones, Persian rugs, and a cat. A European tabby. You have wanted it since the day you were born because being an only child was like living in a house full of ghosts.

Your heels hit the floor with a muted thud, and your shawl cascaded down in a haphazard swirl as you brushed it off your shoulders. You sunk into the plush armrest of the couch, sighing deeply as you closed your eyes, attempting to shake off the fatigue that clung to you like a second skin. You were beginning to regret the three glasses of champagne to tune out tonight’s event.

"So, I’m guessing you’ve got another glamorous night in the political arena tomorrow, huh?" Toji asked.

You opened your eyes, your gaze meeting his, and managed a weak smile. "You have no idea. Sometimes, I feel like I'm caught in a never-ending dance of smiles and handshakes."

He pushed himself off the doorframe and strolled toward you. "Well, lucky for you, I'm a decent dance partner. Just not sure about my smile and handshake skills."

You wanted to tell him he had a nice smile, that the scar really added a touch of mystery to him—a mystery that kept you on your toes. He also had really large hands that you found yourself staring at during meetings or drives.

You ran a hand through your hair, loosening a few strands that framed your face. Toji’s eyes lingered on you, a subtle appreciation in his stare. Without thinking, he stepped in front of you, his fingers gently tucking the stray hair behind your ear.

"You've got a talent for getting yourself into these messes, Princess," he remarked, his voice low and intimate. His touch lingered, brushing against your cheek and then down to your neck. Unintentionally, his fingers traced the soft skin.

Your breath caught, the unexpected contact sending a shiver down your spine. You met his eyes, finding a silver of vulnerability in his usually cheeky behavior. For a moment, the air crackled with an unspoken tension. Toji, realizing the accidental breach of boundaries, withdrew his hand, mumbling, "Got a bit carried away there."

Your tired eyes softened with a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place. "It's okay, Mr. Zenin. Just . . . let's just chalk it up to exhaustion.”

He straightened up. "Yeah, exhaustion. That's exactly it."

Nodding, you stood from your spot and awkwardly patted his shoulder. “You can see yourself out."

He raised a fascinated brow at the gesture, the scar curling up in a half-smile.

As you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling of Toji’s calloused fingertips circling from your ear, knuckles softly brushing your cheekbone and down to your neck. The sensation lingered, sending shivers down your spine.

You entered the bathroom, the cool tiles beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth building within you, turning on your bathtub’s faucet. The running water drowned out your racing thoughts as you undressed. Your fingers traced the curves of your body, and your eyes, filled with self-doubt, studied your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The image staring back at you was proof of years of dieting imposed by your mother's relentless pursuit of the perfect political image.

You sighed, shoulders slumping, yet the boulders of burden settled upon them refused to fall. As you raised your head, you caught a glimpse of someone in the reflection behind you. “What the f—” A chill ran down your spine as you turned around, heart pounding.

There, in the doorway, stood Toji, his green gaze fixed on your face.

“What the hell are you doing here?" you demanded, wrapping your arms protectively around your breasts, hand covering your lower region.

Toji’s eyes softened, his usual sarcasm substituted by concern. "I heard you talking to yourself. Thought you might need some company."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "That's not an invitation to barge in!"

“I'm your bodyguard, and part of my job is to make sure you're secure, even if it means guarding you in your own bathroom.”

“I'm perfectly safe in my own bathroom. Besides, you're not my babysitter."

Obviously, he ignored you and took a step closer to the tub, his eyes never leaving yours. He turned off the faucet just as the water was at the perfect level. His hand dipped in the steaming water. “Hot.”

“Oh my god, get out!”

“Get in.”

“What?”

“Get your ass in the tub.”

You rolled your eyes but didn't back down. "I'm not getting into that bathtub with you hovering over me like a hawk."

Toji sighed exasperatedly.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by a crack in his patience. "What's so urgent that you can't leave me alone for five minutes?"

He hesitated for a moment before smirking. "I want to wash your hair."

"Wash my hair?" you echoed.

"Yeah. I heard it's the latest trend in personal security."

You shouldn’t have chuckled, but you did anyway. Everything about this situation had blown out of proportion, escalated from zero to a million, and put an interesting mark on your otherwise professional relationship with your bodyguard.

Toji extended his hand, a silent invitation. You were at his beck and call in five seconds, lowering your hands from your bare body, and not once did he check you out. However, the tick in his jaw and the subtle flare of his nostrils easily gave him away. You accepted his hand, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours—his touch was firm yet gentle. You gingerly stepped into the embrace of the steaming water, sinking low until it covered your shoulders.

Toji wet your hair before squeezing a handful of shampoo into his palm, his hands strong yet gentle as he began to work the lather into your hair. His fingers moved in rhythmic circles, massaging your scalp with a skill that spoke of experience. The sensation of his touch, combined with the warm water, created a cocoon of comfort. The tension in your shoulders seemed to melt away, replaced by a strange but welcome calm.

"Seriously, though, why are you doing this?” you asked. “Bodyguards aren't typically known for their hairdressing skills."

Toji flashed a wry grin. "Rumor has it that a well-groomed princess is a happy princess. Plus, it's in the fine print of the bodyguard handbook—section 37, subsection B: 'Haircare Duties.'"

“But I’m not a princess.”

“Not to me,” he murmured.

As the water streamed down your back, you closed your eyes, surrendering to the tranquility of his caretaking. "Mr. Zenin," you whispered, your voice a gentle hum, "this is a side of you I never knew existed."

He chuckled softly, continuing to pour water over your hair. "I wear many hats, Princess. Tonight, I'm just Toji."

Your eyes opened, meeting his gaze. “Toji.”

He paused for a moment, his hands still in your hair. The only sound was the rhythmic patter of lingering water droplets leaving the faucet. You could feel the shift in his demeanor, a subtle tenseness that hadn't been there before. It was as if the temperature in the room had dropped a few degrees.

He cleared his throat, a nervous habit you had never noticed before. “First time you’ve said my name.”

Oh.

In a daring move, Toji let his fingers linger on your neck, his touch feather-light. Your breath hitched in your throat, or maybe it was his hand curling around your trachea that stopped it. He leaned down, his nose brushing against yours. If he kissed you now, you would never look at your bathtub as a source of taking your own life again. If he kissed you now, you would never look at him the same again. If he kissed you now, you’d drown in it. It would be the only time you willingly would without coming back up for air at the last minute.

Your hand reached up and cupped the back of his head as a green sign. Toji leaned down, his lips brushing against yours. The world seemed to hold its breath as he lingered there for a moment. Then, with a slow and deliberate motion, he parted your mouth with his tongue, seeking permission, and you welcomed him wholeheartedly.

But as quick as the kiss happened, the quicker he pulled back.

“Fuck.”

Your heart sunk.

Fuck, indeed.

Confusion and hurt flickered across your face as you struggled to comprehend the sudden twist in your actions. You hadn't considered the consequences, the potential risks that a romantic entanglement could pose to both of you. The weight of your privilege and his responsibility pressed heavily on both of your shoulders. "Toji, I thought . . .”

He suddenly stood, and you reached out with your hand, grazing his arm, frightened that he was going to walk away and leave you wallowing alone in your guilt. "Well, well," he drawled, the corners of his mouth lifting in a sardonic smile. Slowly, he tilted your chin up with a gentle touch. "I never thought I'd see the day when the senator's daughter would be so desperate for her bodyguard's attention."

A flush of embarrassment crept up on your cheeks, and you tried to pull away, but Toji’s grip on your chin remained firm.

“Desperation suits you, Princess," he continued, his tone light but with an undercurrent of something you couldn't quite place. "But remember, we're playing with fire here."

"You're one to talk, Mr. Zenin. Who kissed who first?"

His laughter echoed throughout the bathroom. "Touché, sweetheart. Touché."

You lowered your eyes, hugging your knees to your chest. “Whatever. You can leave now.”

“Leave? Not a fucking chance.” Toji’s boisterous laugh made you jump. He started taking off his shirt and tossing it aside. “It’s your turn to wash my hair.”

“W-What?”

He responded by unbuckling his belt and lowering his trousers, leaving him in his boxer briefs. Your hands covered your eyes when he was completely naked and incredibly erect. “What, you’ve never seen a naked man before, Princess?”

“Once,” you mumbled. You weren’t a virgin, a secret only you knew. It was during the first-year of university when you’d hooked up with one of your mother’s best friend’s son. Both your families had high hopes of an engagement, but you were against the idea. Thank goodness for that. He’d lasted about five minutes into the sex before collapsing on top of you. It was a painful disaster.

“You just signed a man’s death wish,” Toji said, settling into the tub with you. The water sloshed around him, cascading over the edges of the tub and creating small puddles on the marble floor.

“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper breathlessly.

"Taking a bath? Now, now, sweetheart. Don’t be mean." He reclined against the tub's porcelain edge, the water clinging to the contours of his muscular frame. “Why are you so far away? Come here.”

Your body defied your intentions as it glided away from the corner, moving towards him. His left leg extended while the right one bent, with the cap of his knee emerging from the water. Your small hand cradled it, guiding you closer until you were seated just inches away from his erection.

Toji splashed water over your face, causing you to yelp in surprise.

“Toji!”

“Eyes up here, sweetheart.” He tilted his head back, accentuating the chiseled contours of his jaw. His chest resonated with laughter. “You’re so pretty when you blush for me.” His large hand slithered to your nape and tugged you forward, claiming your lips in a feverish, powerful kiss, where his teeth pulled your bottom lip and sucked on it. It frustrated you that, once again, he broke away first, leaving you to whimper. “Turn around. On all fours.”

The questions fizzled out on your tongue. “Are you going to . . .”

“Fuck you?” He arched an eyebrow, the damp strands of his hair swaying in sync with the tilt of his head. “Fuck yes.” His lashes lowered, giving his eyes a dangerously dark glint. “Unless you don’t want me—”

“No!” The words slipped out before you could stop them. “No, I never . . . I want you to.”

“To what?”

Oh, he was really a dick. “I . . . want you to fuck . . me.”

He wet his bottom lip. “How do you want me to fuck you, sweet girl?”

Your chest rose and fell in synchrony with the ebb and flow of the situation. “I don’t know. I’ve only had sex once.”

“Baby, there’s a major difference between having sex and being fucked.”

On cue, your legs instinctively clenched in an attempt to find relief. “Are you clean?”

Toji raked his fingers through his hair and made a spinning gesture with his finger. Your body followed the motion, turning away from him and gripping the tub’s edge. “Wanna know a secret, Princess?”

“Uh, sure.”

The heat emanating from his chest pressed against your back. “I got a check-up the day I was assigned to you.” A sentence that visibly made you shudder. Of course, the insufferable bastard had planned this circumstance ahead. “I knew that sooner or later, I’ll have the senator’s daughter naked and needy underneath me. That I’ll have my cock buried deep within the tight walls of her sweet, sweet pussy, as she milks every last bit of my come. That I’ll watch as it drips out her hole and down her soft thighs.” He extended his arm and delicately lifted the drain plug with his fingers, allowing the water to gracefully swirl away from the bathtub. “I jerked off to the thought almost every night.”

“So, you accepted this job just to get a chance to sleep with me?” Your confidence tanked, and your body prepared itself to leave the tub. “Go to hell—”

Toji wrapped his palm around your hair three times, pulling it taut as he drew you back, pressing you firmly against his chest. “I wasn’t finished talking.”

“Let me go!”

“Know what I do when I escort you to your apartment, Princess?” He wasn’t gentle with cuffing his hands around your neck, immediately silencing you. “I wait like a fucking dog outside until you’re asleep. Then, I walk back in, clean up around your kitchen and living room because you’re too tired to do your chores, and after playing your maid, I tuck you into bed. I watch you sleep, even letting you hold onto my hand, until the moon exchanges for the sun. And I’ve been doing this for the past six fucking months.” He jerks your head to the side, his glare cold and cutting. “So, no, Princess, I didn’t accept this damn job to fuck you. This was just a side perk.”

"Oh," was all you could manage to say. The mystery behind the polished kitchen sink, the mugs and dishes neatly stowed away, the meticulously organized closet, and the unexpected peaceful nights of sleep settling within you finally unraveled. The source of your newfound stability, one that encouraged you to gradually wean off your anti-anxiety medication, was none other than your bodyguard who, unbeknownst to you, had been quietly tending to your well-being in the shadows.

Toji's gruff voice murmured near your ear, interrupting your contemplation. "You're mine, not only in body but in soul, sweet girl. No one—absolutely no-fucking-one—gets to lay a finger on you when I'm around. I won't let you out of my sight, not even for a moment."

You nod, curving your cheek and giving him a simple, soft kiss. “Will you wash me afterward?”

“Every time.”

“Will you sleep alongside me?”

“Every night.”

“And day?”

“Every day.”

“You promise?”

Toji didn’t answer, and you didn’t want to push the fantasy any further given your roles.

You’d made up your mind and rested your head back on his shoulder, a smile naturally splaying at your lips. “Don’t hold back, big guy.”

Toji kissed the side of you neck and nudged you forward so you were gripping the tub’s edge once again. His calloused, rough hand ran down your spine and settled on one-half of your ass. “So soft here.” He delivered a forceful slap, firmly grasping the flesh between his nails, stretching your skin taut, then spanking you again and again and again until your pussy was practically salivating for his fingers. “Fuck, you’re so wet already, baby.” He spat on his fingers and slipped through the slit of your soaking pussy, circling your swollen clit in fast motions. “When’s the last time anyone’s fucked this neglected pussy? Made you spread your legs and rubbed your pretty, puffy clit?” You moaned and broke into choppy gasps, pushing your ass closer to his fingers. “Your private tutor didn’t teach you a lesson on patience?”

“Toji, please.”

“Shh. I know, I know.” He mocked your desperation, gathering your hair in his fist. “Let’s see how many fingers my sweet girl can take.” Toji drove in two digits before you could blink, a maniacal chuckle escaping him as he skillfully moved them in and out, savoring the sounds of your pleasure-filled cries. “Yes, baby. Oh, yes. One more, okay?” His ring finger forced itself in, eliciting a groan from both of you. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rested his thick fingers inside your warmth for a minute, feeling you clench and suck him in.

“Toji— Too much—”

“Not enough, sweet girl.” He began moving, easily hitting the spot that had your toes curling inwards. “You can take it, baby. I know you can take it.” You proved him by grinding back on his palm. “That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck yourself on my fingers. Such a good girl.” The squelching sounds crowded the bathroom, your release seeping out of you without you knowing. You cried out as he relentlessly thrusted his digits, gathering your sticky mess on his fingers and bringing it to your lips. “Taste how sweet you are.”

Your mouth covered his slick, white-coated fingers, tongue wrapping around them and suckling them deep towards the recesses of your throat. The sounds of you gagging made him grunt and sink his fingers ever further before pulling them out abruptly, strings of your saliva and release bridging the space in between.

Toji, with a sly grin, licked his fingers clean, shooting a playful wink at your flushed and flustered demeanor. “Delicious.”

Arm around your waist, Toji easily carried you back and turned you around so you were facing him, straddling his sturdy thighs. A rugged exhale escaped his lips, akin to someone who had endured a grueling day of manual labor. With muscles flexed, he extended his arms on either side, creating a protective barrier around the edge of the tub.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, drinking in your figure.

“Thank you.”

“No, baby. You don’t say “thank you” to me if I compliment you. You say “I know,” and move the fuck on.” He rubbed his hand up and down your thigh, cupping the side of your waist. You jumped when he flicked at your stone-hard nipple. “You’re sensitive there, huh?”

You mumbled, “Everywhere.”

“Speak up, sweetheart.”

“Everywhere,” you said with a volume that made him tip his head back and study you through the hooded slit of his eyes. “What you did, with your fingers, it felt good. Really good.”

“I know,” he replied, winking. “Want me to make you feel fucking fantastic, sweet girl?”

You nod, anticipating his next—

“Sit on it,” he said languidly.

“What?”

“Sit on my cock, Princess.”

He truly had a way with his words.

And you had grown accustomed to them.

Rising on your knees, you stumbled forward and aligned yourself on his ramrod erection, white beads of pre-cum leaking from the pink tip. He gripped the base of it, allowing you to sink down on his long, girthy length.

“Shit,” he breathed out, head lulling back.

“You’re—You’re too big.” The words strained out of you as you sought a comfortable position to move in. “Oh, God. Toji, I don’t think—”

He swallows your following words with his lips, cradling your flushed face in his hands. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck. “It’s okay, sweet girl. Get yourself comfortable because, in a minute, I’ll make you forget the word ever existed.”

“Oh, God.”

“Toji, baby. The name’s Toji. Fucking say it.”

“T-Toji . . . ”

He lowered his head and grasped your left breast, fondling it like a stress ball as if his stress levels were beyond the roof. You mewled when he pinched your nipple and stretched it out, heating it between his fingers. His lips latched onto your right breast, cheeks concaving as he sucked hard.

You were a lost cause at that point, watching him nibble the swollen bud between his teeth, giving you that devilish smirk. “Fuck, baby. Your nipple tastes so sweet.” His tongue circled around it, pulling it taught in his mouth. “Maybe I should make you a mother just so I get to taste the milk that’ll leak from them.”

“You’re so dirty,” you whispered, ignoring the sudden film reel of you and Toji and your children gathered around a Christmas tree in an apartment smaller than this, in a life quieter and more private than yours. You needed clinical help.

“I know you’re thinking it.” He released your nipple with a pop and kissed your lips. “Soon, sweetheart.”

Soon?

Toji didn’t allow you to overthink anymore before grappling your ass and raising it high off his cock, until only his tip remained in you. “Hold on tight.”

He pounded you down.

You yelped and stabbed your nails into his shoulders, shouting out, “Fucking hell!” which, obviously, made him burst out laughing, all while ramming you down on his cock, burying himself to the hilt.

“Toji—ah!”

Tears streaked down your cheeks, which he quickly wiped away with his tongue, kissing each eye as if it were your mouth. He thrusted up into you in a staccato rhythm, gripping your nape to keep you steady in place. Your high-pitched whines and empty complaints fueled him to push both of your limits.

“Don’t let this get to your head,” Toji gritted out, a layer of cockiness in his voice, “but I’ve never once fucked anyone in this position.”

Well, that made you feel special, you supposed.

Actually, it made you want to try harder to please him. If you did well tonight, you could try every position in his book. So, you pressed your hands against his pecs and swirled your hips in circles, slowing his thrusts so you could take control. He was fascinated by your body, by your sudden superiority, settling his hands on your waist while you rode him insistently.

“Look at you riding my cock, baby,” Toji muses. “Look at you go. Just like that, come on. I know you can move faster.” He admired the movement of your breasts, the sweat-beads that crystallized on your skin, how your drowsy eyes rolled to the back of your head. You felt his cock twitch uncontrollably within your hot, sticky walls, felt the thick tip of it penetrate the spot that pushed you to the precise of your orgasm.

But your exhaustion caught up to you faster than your climax, causing your body to grow limp and slump against his chest. Toji embraced you, settling one hand on the back of your head and the other on your ass.

“You did well, baby,” he whispered into your hair.

“Don’t lie to me. You didn’t come.”

“Neither did you.”

You nuzzled your nose in the crook of his neck, circling your shaky arm around his strong neck. “I’m close, Toji. I’m almost there. I promise.”

That’s all it took for him to drive back up into you, grunting expletives and praises in your ear—fuck, oh, fuck, ah, fuck, such a good girl, my sweet fucking girl, oh, your pussy is so tight, so pretty, made just for my cock—while holding you flush against his sweaty chest. You kissed his temple and clutched his hair, breathing in the scent of your lavender-honey shampoo and his natural musk. He continuously mumbled, “Come on, baby, come on. Come for me. Come on my cock, sweet girl.”

And you did. With a cry that hitched in your throat, with your nails dragging down his shoulder blades, with his teeth sunk into your neck, with your bodies sweat-struck and panting like wild horses.

Toji drew you back and ran a hand on your cheek, brushing away the damp strands sticking to your cheek. “Good?”

You breathed out through your open mouth, the organ inside your chest hammering to break out. “Fan . . . tastic.”

He smiled warmly, not the arrogant-cocky kind you were used to receiving, and pressed his lips to yours. No tongue, nothing. Just a simple, chaste kiss. “Time to wash up, Princess.”

Switching from the tub to the shower stall, you began to wash Toji’s hair with your lavender-honey shampoo. You anticipated his complaints, but all he did was sit silently on the seat, using a loofa to clean your body. He complimented the curves of your figure, even taking a sneaky nip at your breast, then chuckling at your reaction. Like a gentleman, he dried off your wet body, combed through your wet hair as he blow-dried it, and then it was his turn, but of course, he forced you onto his lap while you did.

“How’d you get this scar?” you asked as you two lay in your bed, naked with your limbs tangled with each other. For the past hour, all you’ve done is trace your finger over his brows, his sharp, pointed nose, and his lips. “You don’t have to tell me—”

“Family. That’s all.”

“Okay,” you whispered, snuggling your face under his jaw and wrapping your arm around his torso as far as you can.

“You’re clingy, aren’t ya’?” he teased, hooking your leg over his hip.

“Was I too out of character for you, Mr. Zenin?”

You felt his smile on your crown accompanied. “You’re not a character, Princess. You’re a real person.” His hug around your sore body tightens as if you’re about to escape any minute. “It’s overwhelming how real you are, Y/N.”

“Did you just call me by name?”

He raised a brow, voice laced with charming sarcasm. “Was I too out of character for you, Y/N?”

Your hand cupped his cheek, stroking the scar by his lip. “You’re perfect, Toji.” You kissed the wound, the middle of his lips, and the tip of his nose for a good measure.

“Stop acting cute and sleep, Princess. You’ve got a tea party in the morning.”

Groaning, you decompress in his hold. “Goodnight, Toji.”

“Night, sweet girl. Dream of me.”

“You, too.”

“Always.”

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bby-deerling · 3 months

Text

girlfriend (zoro x reader nsfw)

part of my 1600 follower event!

prompt is: show him what you do to me/late at night when the wind is free/we're gonna have to tell him/you'll only be a girlfriend/of mine

18+, mdni, nsfw, wc: 2.6k masterlist

cw: afab!reader, jealousy, established relationship, law is lowkey a freak, unrequited law x reader, voyeurism, jerking off, eavesdropping, unknowing exhibitionism, dirty talk, law considering using his devil fruit for (actually) nefarious purposes

tagging: @eelnoise @ragethebunny @sanjisprincesswifey @willowhaze26 @kaizokuniichan

Lazy clouds roll overhead, making for an easy and uneventful day at sea. The soft rock of the ship is soothing, and the ocean mist turns you ticklish as it sprinkles across your face and into your hair. It was sublimely serene and peaceful—until your crewmates decide to make you the target of their mischief for the afternoon.

“Sanji wants to know what your boyfriend wants for lunch.” Nami asks as she approaches you next to the railing, a wicked grin on her face as Usopp tries his best to suppress a fit of giggles.

Brows knit together as you look at her, perplexed. “Why? He knows Zoro will eat just about anything besides chocolate.” you reply, still unsure as to why Sanji was bothering to ask considering he usually made his menus without even thinking to consider Zoro’s opinion, stating that the mosshead is too crude to have a fully developed sense of taste.

“No, not Zoro, your other boyfriend!” she teases, causing you to let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes as Usopp cackles. Trafalgar Law had made himself quite comfortable around you during his temporary stay on the Sunny; it had started with an interest in a coin he was absentmindedly flicking into the air—you used to grade and collect them, after all—and it had devolved into him sticking close to your side, grumbling under his breath that you were the only person on the crew he could tolerate.

“Why am I the Law expert?” you hiss, frustrated and trying to keep your voice down. Truthfully, at a different, more naïve time in your life, Law’s strange charm and roundabout way of indirectly flirting with you through mumbled half-compliments would have had your wrapped around his finger, but not now; not when you had a support system of people to give you whole, unrestricted, free-flowing love. Not when you were in an idyllic partnership built on respect and growth. There was no room in your heart for Law and his cryptic platitudes beyond friendship—not when you were in love with Zoro.

“Because he sits and talks to you with that dopey look in his eyes as if he’s never seen a pretty girl before in his life! He’s so obvious it’s painful!” Usopp exclaims, causing you to sigh. Law considered himself smooth and sneaky, but the way he showed you preferential treatment was beyond glaringly obvious, and considering that nearly everyone else had picked up on it, it was only a matter of time before it spilled over into something that you weren’t quite prepared to deal with yet.

“Which is why I’ve been trying to ignore it.” you say through gritted teeth. Worry rushes through your veins as you consider the last week or so, replaying each interaction with him in his head to try to decipher if you had been encouraging his budding affections in any way. Unsatisfied with the vagueness of your conclusion, you reach for external validation. “I’m not doing anything to give him the wrong idea, am I?” you ask them, nervously digging your nails into your forearms.

“You’re just being friendly.” Nami says, reassuring you with a squeeze to your shoulder. “It’s just hilarious to watch him follow you around like a lost puppy.” You’d liken him more to a miserable wet cat than a puppy, sulking in corners and stealing you away to demand attention when it suited him, craving affection from you, but only on his own terms. It was a bid for control that was foreign to you and left a bitter distaste in your mouth, especially when you were accustomed to the mutual trust that you and Zoro shared.

“And a bit pathetic.” Usopp adds with a crooked grin.

“You’re one to talk about being pathetic.” Nami chimes in, unable to resist getting in a playful dig at her friend’s expense.

“Hey!” he exclaims, launching the two into a fit of unserious bickering as the sound of heavy boots against the deck approach them.

“Is that moron done with lunch yet?” Zoro asks with a huff, sweaty, fatigued, and irritated after a rough workout.

“Almost! Or at least he better be—I’m starving too.” you tell him with a smile; the look on your face visibly softens his frustration slightly, turning his anger into a gentle rumble.

“Idiot can’t even stick to a regular schedule.” he growls, leaning against the railing next to you. As Nami and Usopp remain engrossed in their sidebar conversation, you take the opportunity to softly ask him how his training went, and eagerly drink up each detail. In return, he wants you to relay him the details of your morning, and you do, with a dreamy smile of your face—a lovestruck look that’s not lost on your fellow crewmates.

“Look at that look in her eyes, it’s probably crushing his poor heart!” Nami whispers to Usopp, gesturing towards Law across the deck, who was slowly strolling towards the kitchen.

“The pain of unrequited love!” Usopp whispers back, tears nearly streaming down his face from both uncontrollable laughter and empathy for the Surgeon of Death’s plight.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” Zoro barks out as he snaps his head towards them. They both point towards the doorway to the kitchen, where Law’s hat disappears into the room. “Don’t you two have anything better to do?” he asks with a sigh.

“Nope!” Nami chirps, informing him that their course was securely set, and that the schadenfreude she and Usopp derived from watching Law fight a battle he was doomed to lose from the start was the most fun they’ve had in weeks. Zoro scoffs, appearing indifferent as he rolls his eyes and makes his way towards the kitchen, but the tight grip he keeps around your waist betrays his annoyance and uneasiness as Nami’s words rattle around his head; both of you had considered the way the surgeon clung to you a bit odd, but hearing that other people had noticed it too had made the situation tangible, and suddenly makes Law’s presence next to you at the table unbearable—there was something unsettling about the fact that he would rather see the cook on his knees in front of you, pathetically begging for just one chance, than to have Law at the same table as you, let alone sitting beside you.

“Something bugging you, mosshead?” Sanji quips with a knowing smirk upon seeing Zoro’s arm wrapped around you. Frustrated, the swordsman doesn’t dignify him with a response; not in the talking mood, he removes his arm from around your torso in order to shovel food into his mouth and prevent any attempts at small talk. You’re engrossed in your own food, slurping up the wedding soup that Sanji had prepared for your lunch, ignoring the burns the hot broth leaves on the roof of your mouth. It was still far too hot for a reasonable person to eat, but as was often the case with Sanji’s cooking it was too good not to.

“Mmm…” you hum contently; the rest of the crew is used to your penchant to moan in delight when stuffing your face with a particularly good meal, but Law is unable to hide the way he stiffens like a board beside you as the sound that escapes your lips rings in his ears. “Sanji, this is delicious!” you say innocently, with glimmering enthusiasm, causing the cook’s lips to curl up into an appreciative smile and teasingly telling you it would taste even better if you had the patience to wait a while before digging in.

A few moments pass uneventfully as you scarf down the bread that accompanied your soup, until a sudden sensation running across your outer thigh causes you to nearly leap out of your own skin; peering under the table, the culprit is Law’s leg, pressed against your own. He’s a tall man, so the need for leg room would be a reasonable excuse, and scrutinizing his face reveals no outward trace of unscrupulous intentions; yet, at the same time he’s so transparent, unable to help himself from bouncing his knee alongside yours, as if desperate for the slightest bit of friction. The smallest of sighs escapes his lips as you lean away from the touch, confirming your suspicions; the realization makes you echo the sound, frustrated and disappointed that he was unable to be content with the friendship you were willing to offer and was instead so insistent on meddling in a place where he didn’t belong.

His behavior was starting to eat away at your last nerve, and evidently, Zoro shared your sentiment, becoming more possessive than usual when he makes love to you that night.

“Bet he jerks his pathetic cock to the thought of switching places with me…hah…but he doesn’t have the balls to do it.” Zoro whispers, panting into your ear as he snakes an arm underneath you to pull your waist closer; craving to feel your hot skin melt into his, he needs you trapped and caged between his arms, mewling and whimpering out a soft, pretty song as he pounds you into the floor. “He knows you need something bigger, don’t ya’, pretty girl?” he growls in your ear; it’s gravelly, possessive, and makes you flutter softly around him as you whine out an “Mhm… you feel s’good…” in response.

Lost and drowning in a haze of ecstasy, neither of you notice the soft blue light enveloping the room, nor the muffled, strangled gasps coming from outside the door as Law drags his hand down his cock, imagining burying himself inside you instead. For a brief moment, he does consider switching places with him, picturing the way your eyes would be blown wide with shock—shock that he’d fuck out of you until you’re drooling out the corner of your mouth and whimpering his name like a prayer. But as much as he desires it, burning up for you so much that he barely knows what to do with himself, he knows he can’t—it’s too twisted and dark; however, he can’t bring himself to dispel the room that he’s cast. He bargains with himself to come up with a justification to flick his wrist and take you that wouldn’t make him a monster—that wouldn’t turn you away from him entirely; it’s beyond tempting to give into his urges when one simple movement is all that separates him from the warmth of your core swallowing his cock whole. Choking back a groan as he fists himself, he wonders if, even for the briefest of moments, the mention of him made your mind go dark, fantasizing about having his cock deep inside of you. He wonders if he could get away with just a taste, switching places for just a fraction of a second—neither of you would notice a thing, and he would finally get his fix, and the opportunity to tremble at the tight, wet grip of your walls around him.

But he knows a moment wouldn’t be enough for him—not even close. He knows his length would be able to reach depths of you that Zoro never could, and he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to break you in, scramble your mind, and leave you unable to be dripping and wanting for anyone else but him. His wrist is twitching, wavering in tandem with his resolve; he’s moments away from tipping over the edge, the word shambles at the tip of his tongue, until a soft whining of Zoro’s name vibrates through the door, the word dripping with neediness and devotion. The sound leaves the bitter taste of bile at the back of Law’s tongue and his room falls apart, a crushing reminder that he’s alone, in a dark hallway that leads to the aquarium bar, jerking himself off in the middle of the night while Zoro gets to indulge in the comfort of your flesh.

Zoro’s name is hot on your tongue as he delivers you to burning red ecstasy, his calloused fingers rubbing circles into your aching bud as he ruts into you. “Need you, only need you, Zoro…” you murmur as blood rushes to your face, pooling in your cheeks as you pulse around him, mind shattered and vulnerable, only for him. The flutter of your walls makes him pull you even closer, sinking his teeth into your neck as you bury your face into the throw pillow on the ground in front of you and whimper.

“So good for me—you take it so good for me.” he mumbles; the sight of you falling apart underneath him lights a fire in soul that makes him give it to you harder—Law can hear the smack of his hips against yours through the door as he smears buds of precum across the tip of his cock with his palm. Limp and pliant as tingles of electricity continue to dance through your skin, you’re his, to have and to hold as he sees fit.

He knows your body like the rough, weathered palms of his hand, and in turn you know his; the intoxicating way he ruts into you, filling you until you can’t think straight, along with the tremble in his thighs lets you know he’s close. He holds you tight, the flesh of your back melting into his broad chest as he cums deep inside you, as if you’ll vaporize into thin air if he lets you go. The simple sensation of him wrapped around you is enough to get drunk on, and you silently wish you could stretch this moment out for an eternity.

“I love you.” you murmur to him as he crashes from his high, slowly regaining control of his breathing.

It’s soft and hushed, a raw rasp in your voice as your words blanket the room in an intimate sweetness, the kind that pulls on heartstrings so harshly that the rest of the world slips away. As Zoro echoes your sentiment, whispering a love you too in your ear and burying his head into the crook of your neck to savor the moment, Law selfishly twists your words in his mind, filling in the gaps and imagining them whispered to him instead.

“I love you, Law.”

Though it’s a mangled, manufactured creation of his own mind, he doesn’t care; just the concept of the words rolling off your tongue as you cry out for him is enough to make him spill his seed all over his jeans as he violently fucks his hand.

“I love you, Law...”

The words tumble in his head, bouncing off the walls of his skull as he comes down from his high, tormenting him. He needs them to be real, to hear them spoken to him in hushed tones in quiet places hidden away from the world; he needs you to want him, to yearn for him, to crave him, to love him.

But you don’t.

You love Zoro.

At breakfast the next morning, Law stretches his legs underneath the table, lightly grazing his thigh against yours in the process; it’s intentional as it always is, the guilt and shame of his voyeurism doing nothing to dampen his futile attempts to sway you.

You jerk away from his touch, tilting your legs to your left, towards Zoro. So close, but so far, it’s infuriating enough to make him clench his jaw so hard he nearly breaks a tooth.

When you’re still hungry after finishing your plate, he quietly offers you the remnants left on his plate—he can barely stomach food at the moment anyways, not when he’s plagued with visions of you splayed out and spread open underneath another man.

Though he knows he can’t have you, Law can’t help but continue to give you his scraps.

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #zoro x you #roronoa zoro x you #trafalgar law x you #law x you #zoro x y/n #law x y/n #zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #trafalgar law smut #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #one piece scenario

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eminemily05 · 2 months

Text

Passion’s Dance

Husk x Reader

I couldn’t help myself with this one 🫣 3.2k words, holy shit.

This is a Husk x Reader 18+ imagine. Please, please don’t interact if you’re a minor. I don’t want you to get in trouble with parents.

This is very, very self indulgent and is the first smut I’ve written seriously since I was like…15? So please forgive me if it’s all over the place. Kind constructive criticism is very much welcome, just don’t be a dick about it.

Warning: Sexual Themes (obviously), and vague descriptions of feline anatomy.

The story is under the cut.

“If anythin’ hurts too much, tap out. Don’t try an’ be tough.”

Bedding Husk was no easy feat. It took long enough for him to even allow you to put a label on what you two were. He’d been through enough ‘relationships’ that the terms ‘dating’ and ‘partners’ had become so unappealing to him.

He’d been hurt enough and had hurt others enough, he didn’t want to bring in false hope for himself. Not to mention his lover.

However, you’d pushed past those walls (respectfully, of course) and wormed your way into his old, tired soul. As much as he tried to hide it, he was glad to have you. Husk knew that being with him, exclusively, wasn’t for the faint of heart. He self-destructed, drank himself to blackouts, and gambled his money when he got the chance.

He was patient, sure, but you had to be when dealing with Alastor. Husk was forced to be complacent. He’d described himself as ‘broken’ on more than one occasion.

But, you never let that push you away. You knew why he did it, why he beat himself down, why he stayed silent when obviously something was wrong. You were patient, truly patient. You didn’t push too hard, but you didn’t let Husk push you, either. He respected that.

Now, if Husk letting you label your relationship wasn’t hard enough, getting him to be truly intimate was a damn miracle.

He’s not innocent, by any means. He’s had a fling here and there. One-night stands almost every night when he was alive. Business ‘transactions’ as an Overlord. He’s been through it all. But, he’s never had a true night of passion with someone he’s truly loved. Husk never had a reason to. Especially as an Overlord, he was rough, cruel, uncaring.

He doesn’t want to test that beast showing its fangs to you.

You two had been going steady for a good number of months. Getting Husk to warm up to you took time. Gentle kisses and touches in privacy were hard enough. He’d shy away from the affection for the first couple months, tense and unsure of it. The barkeep had never been shown affection that didn’t have some kind of motive behind it.

Slowly, he’d started to grow into it. Leaning, ashamedly, into soft pecks and gentle scratching between his wings or ears. However, he usually didn’t reciprocate. And when he did, he always made sure to ask first. He would never act without your permission, even when you insisted it was alright.

It was for his ‘peace of mind,’ he’d tell you each time.

You built on that over the months, gently warming him to your affections and presence. Wing touches here and there, gentle ear rubs, hands through the hair on top of his head. He began to lean into all of it more and more, becoming more confident in his touches and affection towards you. Behind closed doors, of course. Gods forbid Angel ever found out. Husk wouldn’t hear the end of it.

After months and months of soft, careful affection and touching, he finally came to you. He was ready, now.

It was a romantic little date proposal, by your standards.

He had walked up to you, a set of plastic playing cards folded up into roses. Those definitely had the handiwork of someone like Charlie, but you weren’t going to mention that. You could almost hear her squeals at the idea of him, begrudgingly, asking for that kind of help.

He asked you on a date, and how could you possibly say no?

Well, one date later and here you both were.

Sitting on his lap, fingers curled in the fur on the back of his head as he littered your neck in soft kisses. His claws roaming gently over your clothed figure, catching the seams in the slightest of actions.

Soft jazz played from a record set on his dresser. You had bought that for him a while ago after learning he liked the style of music, but had no way to play it himself. And like hell he was going to put a radio in his room. Alastor owning his soul was more than enough.

His ears twitched at the sound of your soft breaths, his paws settling over your hips and squeezing. A low groan soon followed from you, drawing a chuckle from the bartender.

“Feelin’ good?” His tongue poked out to swipe across your neck, sending a shiver through your body at the rough texture. He knew what he was doing, damn him.

As much as you’d love to kiss that grin off his face… “Y..You’re being quite the tease, you know?” You shot back. He gave you a smirk and another squeeze.

His kisses gently trailed back up your neck, a soft path leading to the corner of your open mouth. “Mm, that wasn’t what I asked.” He mumbled against your lips before leaning in completely, closing the gap.

A rough tongue lapped across your bottom lip, coaxing a soft whine from your throat. He took the chance to dip it into your mouth, grazing your own in the process. Husk’s paws wrapped securely around your hips as he maneuvered you both to the bed. Your back was laid against the soft covers as he hovered above you, kiss unbroken.

Fighting you for dominance, one of his paws left its spot on your hip. Claws softly dipped into the opening of the shirt and guided upwards, running against your quickly warming skin. You couldn’t help but arch slightly into the touch. Husk chuckled against your lips, noticing. His wings twitched in excitement.

All too soon, he pulled back. Your head instinctively tried to follow him. Much to your disappointment, he hummed and nuzzled his cheek to yours. You giggled at the ticklish feeling, but he firmly continued.

He wanted nothing more than to be able to smell his own scent on you long after this was over. To know he had taken good care of you, with the invisible mark to prove it.

The paw in your shirt drifted up further, slipping under all your layers. He pressed it gently against your nipple, his tail and ears perking at the sound of your soft gasp.

You blushed, looking up at him. He looked back, almost asking for permission. Gods, he could be so sweet..

Nodding, you reached to help remove your top. His other paw was quick to stop you. “Let me take care of ya. You’ve been doin’ it for me long enough, baby.” Husk’s paws made quick work of your upper layers, laying your chest and stomach bare for him to see.

Him, and him alone.

Shaking his head of the thought, he leaned down. His lips pressed back against yours in another kiss, tongue pushing in with little resistance. The demon’s paws moved up, down, and across the expanse of your newly exposed skin. Soft fur rubbing against your warm skin. You arched up into the feeling.

A hand reached up and settled in the fur between his wings, pushing him closer against you. Husk’s wings puffed at the intruder between them. He shuddered against you, tongue pressing roughly to yours and drawing a soft squeak from you. Then, he pulled back.

You whined at the loss.

Shifting his hips carefully against yours, you bit your lip. You could feel his excitement pressed against the warmth between your legs. His whipping tail told you he could feel yours just the same.

But that could wait.

Instead, he shifted his attention back to your chest. Your nipples had grown stiff with the introduction of the cold air. Leaning down, he settled his mouth around one of them. Swirling his tongue around the peak. He knows the right pressure to use.

His teeth graze across the bud, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. His tongue soothes gently across the area, turning the gasp to a soft squeal. Husk hasn’t forgotten about your other one, though. A paw reaches up and gently rubs over the other nipple, pressing down in slow circles. Your hips gently buck up against him.

He laps gently at your peak, purring softly before he can even think. His claws tweak your other one. A soft mewl leaves your mouth before you can think. Quickly, he switches spots. Your other nipple is enveloped into the warmth of his mouth as the former is given the same tweaking treatment.

Soft moans and purring fill the room. The hybrid demon’s tail flicks absentmindedly in the air. His ears are facing you, enjoying every sound his movements draw from you.

“Husk…” You moan, gently tugging at the hair on the top of his head. He looks up at you through lidded eyes. A flick of his ear is the only way you can tell he’s heard you. “Husk, please…”

Pulling back with a wet pop, he looks down at you.

“I know, Doll. But ya need to be ready.” His kisses trail down your torso gently, tongue lapping against the warm skin. You shudder and watch him, your own gaze hazy from his actions.

He hums low against your belly, sending a soft vibration against it. That only added to your growing arousal. A twitch of his nose told you he noticed.

Sitting back, he stripped himself of his suit and slacks. His fur puffed up at its release and he chucked the garments off to the side. Concealed within the soft fur was a ribbed length. It was average in length, but was definitely a good sized girth that would need adjusting to.

You shuddered at the sight.

Husk made quick work of your lower layers, tossing them to join your upper layers and his suit in a pile on the floor. He’d worry about cleaning that later.

Looking down at you, he couldn’t help the trill that left his throat.

“Fuckin’ beautiful.” His wings puffed up gently as he leaned back down, pulling you into yet another kiss. Tongues dancing as his paws moved down to shift your hips up against his.

Once you were adjusted against him to his liking, he reached into his bedside table. Pulling back, he opened a small bottle.

You looked at him, brow raised.

“And you have a bottle of lube…why?”

His ears went flat as he gave you a look. “Maybe another time.”

Before you could protest, a cold feeling hit your hole. You squealed at the temperature shock. Husk only smirked. Bastard.

Opening your mouth to curse him, a soft moan quickly replaced your words. The bartender’s paw rubbed the gel in gently, the soft pad smoothing over your hole in soft but pressured circles. Gripping his arm, you bucked at the feeling.

He simply chuckled as he drew his paw back, taking the time to coat his own dick in lube. He didn’t even flinch.

You definitely had questions for later.

Shifting to line his hips up with yours, he looks at you. A serious look is on his face.

“If anythin’ hurts too much, tap out. Don’t try an’ be tough.” He threaded a hand into your hair, scratching your scalp gently.

You leaned into the touch, nodding. “If it hurts too much, I’ll tap out. I promise.” He leaned down and bumped his nose to yours.

“Good.” He lines himself up to your lubed entrance. “Can I?”

In a world full of boys, he truly can be a gentleman. Always asking for permission before doing anything with you, it was sweet.

You gave him a nod, reaching up to gently cup his fluffy cheeks. “You can.”

He leaned into the touch as he slowly pushed himself in. You were right. The girth, combined with noticeable bumps and ridges, would take a bit of adjusting to. Clawing at his back pulled a low hiss from him, making him stop.

“Fuckin’- ‘Stop’ would work just fine too, ya know.” He grumbled. Leaning down, he peppered your face in soft kisses. His claws wrapped around your hips, waiting to shift you into a better angle.

You nuzzled into the kisses. “You still listened.” He lets out a snort at that.

“Course I did. ‘M not a fuckin’ asshole.”

Testing the waters, you shifted your hips against him slightly. Husk let out a low growl and his wings puffed considerably. Hooking your legs around his hips, you nodded. “You can move..”

He nuzzled against your neck, using his paws to tilt your hips up against him. You could feel his cockhead reach deeper, a moan escaping you. He smirked against your skin. Slowly, his hips pulled back. The hybrid drew back until only the tip was left inside, before slowly pushing himself back in.

There was still a twinge of discomfort with it, but the lube was working well. He gave a few more thrusts like that. Deep, slow, loving. Husk was going great lengths to make sure you got used to his texture before anything else.

His tail thumped loudly against the bed, low trills and huffs leaving his throat and vibrating against your body. His claws digging into your skin told you it was taking everything in his power just to hold himself back. You reached up and scratched between his ears. The cat instantly leaned into it.

You felt yourself being shifted to rest back on the pillows. The feeling of soft fur left your hips and his paws rested on either side of your head. The rhythm of his hips against yours, sped up slightly. You moaned at the feeling, finally accustomed to the rough cock.

“You’re…so fuckin’ tight..” The growl reverberated through your ear. Kisses and nipping littered your neck, fueling your sounds. His wings spread slightly as he ground against you.

Even though he wanted nothing more than to fuck you numb into the bed, he treated you like fragile glass. Like one wrong move could absolutely break you. His thrusts slowly began to hit deeper and deeper.

When he grazed against your sweet spot, you swore you saw stars. A pitched moan was all he needed to hit that spot over and over again, his ears twitching. You clawed at his back again, but he only sped up this time. And fuck, if it didn’t feel good.

The louder your moans grew, the faster he seemed to go. Pushing you down, albeit gently, into the bed. His fur pressed against your sweat covered skin. He was desperate to chase your release, growling incoherently against your neck. Panting against the skin.

“Husk..” You mewled, gripping onto the fur of his neck slightly. He let out a loud trill and looked at you. His pupils were enlarged, threatening to cover the orange of his irises. The hazed look in his eyes was enough to make you clench. His hips stuttered against you as he felt it. “Fuck- Husk..!”

He began to litter your neck in soft bites, his thrusts steadily growing sloppy. It was obvious Husk was close. You weren’t too far behind, he could tell. And while he’d love nothing more to fill you up right then, he was still clear minded enough to know he needed to make you cum first.

So he shakily lifted himself on his front paws and pressed his hips to yours, folding them slightly. With this new angle, he slammed straight into your recently discovered sweet spot. You choked slightly at the feeling and tugged at the base of his wings. Husk‘s tail whipped loudly against the bed.

“Baby…ya can’t-“ He growled, arms buckling. “‘M close enough..fuck..! I won’t last long…if ya tug there..!”

You shakily reached up, curling your fingers in the fur on the back of his head. Bringing him into a sloppy kiss, you locked your legs around his hips. He chuckled hoarsely against your lips.

Grinding into you, he kissed down your neck. Lapping gently at the sweat covered skin with his rough tongue. Shivers wracked your body as the knot built in your gut. Pooling warm and heavy. You moaned out as Husk settled on one of your nipples, prodding it into his mouth.

He circled the bud gently, drawing loud mewls and groans from your throat. The feeling of it added to the warming coil, and you arched up against him. You were close. So close.

Pulling back from the nipple, he looked up at you. His thrusts grew sloppier, but he was holding himself back. You needed one more push.

Moving up, he nuzzled against a spot on your neck. Licking it and nipping it, he slowed his thrusts in favor of going deeper and harder. “Come on, baby..cum for me.”

As he gave a particularly hard slam, his teeth dug into your skin and marked the skin with deep grooves.

That was more than enough for you and you came hard. A loud moan of his name filled the room. Husk shook himself and gave a few more hard thrusts, ears flat. He slammed himself deep and came, thick ropes filling you up. You watched, dazed, as his wings flared out across the room.

The hybrid gave a couple more thrusts, fucking his cum into you. Then, he let himself collapse on top of you. Husk panted gently against your skin, ears flicking.

You both laid there, panting, enjoying the afterglow as your hearts calmed down. Reaching down to where Husk’s head rested against your chest, you combed your fingers through his mussed hair. He leaned into the touch with a purr, opening his eyes to look at you. You watched as he blinked away the hazy look.

You giggled. “That was amazing…I’m shocked.” He instantly bristled.

“The fuck’s that supposed t’ mean?” The cat nipped, playfully, at your chest. You know he didn’t mean anything behind it.

“I’m just kidding.” A hum built in your throat, “Thank you, though. For trusting me enough to do this.”

His ears folded back and he grumbled, distracting himself by cleaning up your bleeding mark. “Yeah yeah, whatever…thanks for..being patient.” He mumbled softly against your skin.

You cupped his face and brought it close to yours. Then, you rubbed your cheek against his. Instantly, he leaned into it, tail curling. “Don’t have to thank me for anything.”

He chuckled and lapped at your skin gently, cleaning you in his own way. When he’d grown soft, he pulled himself out and grabbed a rag. Wetting it in his bathroom, he came back and carefully cleaned you. You nuzzled against him as he finished up. His wings puffed.

“You know what you’re doing, ya little shit.” He nipped your cheek.

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You smirked, taking the rag from him and tossing it to the floor. It could make friends with your clothes down there. Then, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into the bed.

He curled his tail around your waist, and covered you with his wings. Softly nuzzling into your neck, his purring started up lowly. The feeling of it against you was enough to make you yawn. He closed his eyes at the sound.

“I love you, Husk.” You mumbled out as you drifted to sleep. He simply curled his wings and tail tighter around you. You didn’t expect him to answer.

“..I love you, too..”

#hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #18+ content #18+ only #husk x reader smut #smut #self indulgent #can’t write sex scenes for shit

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vsimp · 5 months

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greed (nsfw 18+)

pairing: kamisato ayato x f!reader word count: 1.3k genre: smut minors pls do not interact

Ayato knew that it was his duty to give an heir to the Kamisato Clan. It was one of the reasons why he had agreed to a marriage in the first place. He always kept his expectations low, as he knew a marriage with love was more rare when it came to nobles like him.

When he had met you, however, you had exceeded his expectations. He was never the type of man to get so close to just anybody, maintaining his boundaries with everybody else. He even kept you at a distance for a bit, but then you broke down his barriers, loved him for who he truly was, not who he displayed himself to be.

That was why he was no stranger when it came to you. You made him smile on the days when he was stressed out, and you never judged him for any of his weaknesses, the ones in which he had done everything to conceal. You helped him around the household by assisting him with his work, despite him telling you that it was unnecessary; yet you kept telling him that it was no problem at all and that it was your duty as his wife and lady of the estate.

He was no stranger to the nuances of romance, finding some acts quite puzzling, but he never questioned you as you pulled him to rest his head on your lap at times, or when you would ask him to play some strange “pocky” game with him, only for your lips to sneakily make their way against his once you “accidentally got too close.” He started to crave for your affection more and more the closer he got to you. You were like the moonlight to his darkest days, all of the stars that graced the skies in the endless void. You were his only flower amongst fields of grass and the rainwater to his arid soil. At some point during your relationship, he realized that you were more than just any other woman to him; you were his light, the love of his life.

He wanted to give you everything you could possibly dream of and spoil you rotten, for your smile was enough to get him through even his hardest days.

Ayato, however, had always expressed some hesitation when it came to producing an heir. He didn’t know if it was fear or nervousness that set him back. All he knew was that he didn’t want to lose you for whatever reason, be it from pressuring or scaring you away when you weren’t ready to get intimate.

But as you sat in bed with him, the dim amber light illuminating all of your features, as the silk robe slid down your shoulders to the sheets, he felt like his breath was being taken away. You told him that it was okay, that you were ready for him, but he still held some reserve. After all, he had spent his entire life all by himself, and then you somehow came in and managed to rock the world he built so sturdy that it seemed impenetrable. Was he truly ready to be vulnerable in front of someone, just as you showed your very own vulnerability to him at this very moment?

And then you kissed him. Slowly and gently, your lips moved with his. Your warmth emanated from your body as you encouraged his hands to caress your soft skin. There were no other thoughts running through his mind but you, you, and you.

He was turning greedy. He craved you more and more. He wanted to drown in your lips, drown in the sound of your moans. His arm wrapped around your back, pulling you closer and closer to him.

“Ayato…” You whispered softly to him. “I love you…”

He felt his resolve to resist you waver right then and there, his breath trembling slightly as he felt something in his heart burst open. He loved you, he loved you so much that he was willing to do anything for you.

Ayato truly wanted to spoil you rotten, to let you sink into pure pleasure from him, and him alone. He kissed you, his tongue departing your lips as he lapped up every single drop of your taste. Your sweet moans filled his ears as his hands wandered everywhere, from your breasts, pinching your nipples, down to your thighs. You felt so soft, so supple and welcoming. He wanted to worship your body, drench you in all of his unchaste desires, making you completely his.

He wanted to possess you.

These thoughts were uncouth and remained hidden in the deepest parts of his mind. He didn’t want to frighten you, but his actions and the way he looked at you had spoken otherwise, betraying his desire to upkeep his composure.

His hands started making its way down your body before rubbing you through your underwear, giving you shockwaves of pleasure as you moaned sweetly in his ears. His tongue lapped up the sensitive buds of your nipples as he started to rub at your clit, before slipping his hand under the thin fabric, dipping one finger and then two into your wetness. He was breathing harder from how much he desired you, and his hot breath beat against your skin, letting out low groans whenever you whimpered or cried out.

Sweat started to gather at his forehead as he pulled your underwear off, before he lapped up your slit, making you moan even louder. He drank you as if you were sweet honey, oozing all over his tongue while he licked your most sensitive areas. His tongue even buried deep in your pussy, all whilst his hands gripped your thighs, pushing them as far back as they could go as he allowed himself further and further into your sopping cunt. His lips kissed your clit, your moans filled his ears as he felt himself growing harder and harder. Even after you cum, he continues to devour you, savoring your every taste.

When he departed, he looked down at you as you pant, trying to recover from your high. Your body looked utterly enticing, and he knew he had to have you.

But before anything, he wanted to throw in some tenderness, to convey his true feelings for you.

“My love…” Ayato uttered softly as he pressed his forehead to yours, his elbows on either side of your head as he positioned himself in between your legs, all while his azure blue eyes stared straight into yours. “I love you very much…”

You’d let out a gasp as his cock entered, before any sound you could make was blocked by his lips. His lips kissed you so gently despite how your body had started to tremble in pleasure.

Ayato would start panting, his groans growing louder as he buried his face in your neck, his hips starting to move at a slow pace. Your body would rock in time with his thrusts. His teeth would mark and claim you, leaving pink and red bites all down your neck. Your pussy would slosh with wet noises as he slid his cock deeper and deeper, in and out, your sweet moans filling his ears.

“Y/n…” He groaned, his half lidded eyes stared down at you in pure lust. “You’re so beautiful, my love…”

He would adjust his tempo and strength, holding back based off of any discomfort you may or may not feel. Once you’ve fully acclimated to him, he wouldn’t be able to hold back, increasing his thrusts until he was pounding into you all whilst playing with your body. He would caress your entire body, pinch your nipples, squeeze your breasts, anything to make your pussy clench tightly against him, to which he would hiss in reaction to. He would fuck you hard and deep, changing his angles based off of your reaction, make you cum so hard until the only words that you could mutter out was his name. He would turn your brain into pure putty, knowing very well that the only thing wracking through you brain at the moment was just him and his hard cock inside of you.

And whenever you came, he would kiss you deeply, his tongue intertwining with yours as his seed filled your inner walls, coating you so lusciously in his sinful desires.

That was right, if you two wanted to make an heir, he would have to claim you like this every night. He was looking forward to pumping his children into you, and the various methods that will get your body wracking in pure pleasure once more.

#smut #genshin smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #ayato x reader smut #ayato smut #genshin x reader smut #i'm so thirsty for this man that i had to write a quick drabble for him

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tteokdoroki · 6 months

Text

ೀ⋆OCT 23RD JENIFER'S BODY ━━ eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking !

୨୧ — caution, you are now watching. eijirou kirishima + monsterfucking. there’s something weird going on with you. you’re like…actually evil. not college girl evil, and it’s kinda hot. (5.5K)

୨୧ — rated r. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, dark content, characters aged up to 20s, college!au, friends to lovers (?), mentions of death/murder, demons, gore, choking, gags, marking, blood play, knife play, creampies, cockwarming, monsterfucking, rough sex, unprotected sex, demon + fem!reader, monster-hunter!kirishima.

୨୧ — director’s note. back again for another week! sorry for the delay on this one! it's for sure one of the spookier fics so pls proceed with caution and enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ✧

what does it mean to die?

by definition and according to the oxford dictionary — to die means to lose the life of a person or organism. any creature that breathes (to all capacities) the same components as air as yourself, that moves, that communicates, that exists. but what does it actually mean to die?

death is a concept the most humans find difficulty in coming to terms with. there is fear in not knowing what comes after or how it might feel when the flickering flame of your life is finally blown out. do you really see every choice you’ve ever made flash before your eyes? does it hurt? what emotions do you feel? regret, sadness, pain or happiness?

life can be so fickle, yet is always taken for granted and in a number of ways too. those that exist at this very moment don’t dare to consider the long run, they live in the moment — yes. but do they appreciate it? and then there are those that take life, disrupt the beauty of its natural course and take away a being’s chance to see the world for what it really is. to ruin their chances of love, longing and laughter. how cruel of a human do you have to be to want to hurt someone in such a way?

these are the thoughts that have plagued eijirou kirishima’s mind as of late, haunting his every waking moment from the second his eyes open, every hour in between, and to the second that they close. death has been a constant theme across the campus of yueii recently. ever since the fire at the beginning of the school year had burned the college’s local bar — it’s been everywhere.

the disappearances, the murders, the deaths.

it started with that girl, ochako uraraka, from the college cheerleading team. she went missing after a match at home and was found in the woods later on. then there was kyouka jirou — some emo looking girl who liked to skip class to play her music obnoxiously loud outside of the campus library. her friends shinsou and kaminari had been deeply affected by that.

and as of yesterday, mina ashidou.

she was the kind of girl eijirou would have been into if it wasn’t for his long-term boyfriend katsuki bakugou. she was bubbly and loud, but never treated anyone without an ounce of kindness and warmth — mina loved mornings, loved being in class and loved caring for her friends. the redhead had gotten close to her over the course of last semester, mina having joined him for a portion of his major (sports medicine) that coincided with her psych course. during that time relishing in the gift of her friendship and the kind gestures she offered like coffees for nine AM classes or sharing her notes whenever kirishima found things hard to follow.

she was found dead in one of the newly built frat houses just north of her last class with eijirou kirishima. and like most of the other victims, it looked as though she’d been chewed out by animals, as if she was scared right up until her last moments.

everyone had begged the question, who would do such a thing? why would they do it? students begin to flee, head home despite the year of lectures and assignments ahead whilst parents sent angry emails demanding that the university do more to protect their children. the killer remained at large, without a pattern, without a trademark nor a trace of evidence. nothing that could give investigators the slightest clue was ever left behind.

the only coincidence kirishima could come up with, was the very fact that you didn’t seem to care about what happened to mina even though you had been planning a date with her just hours before her death. he distinctly remembers your conversation in the halls, how you’d barely paid the pink haired girl any mind until eijirou struck up a casual (albeit, a little, flirty) conversation with her somewhere along the line. if there’s one thing that kirishima knows about you, his best friend, is that you hate when he’s the centre of attention.

he’s known you for practically as long as he’s been alive, you’ve been friends for the same amount of time too and through years of emotional bonding — eijirou has noted so many little oddities about you. things that he once adored, at least he thought that he did. you hated it when your outfits clashed, you had always jokingly claimed that it made you look like siblings rather than lovers. you were always so possessive, it took you months to accept bakugou as a partner and even more for kirishima to finally get over you… having the inkling feeling that you were leading him on.

to him, you were everything. a blessing wrapped in the shape of a wonderful human being, worth more than any gold or money a man could find. he loved you more than he should have for a friend, something he was a little too ashamed to admit — he let you take advantage of the kindest parts of his nature because of it. sometimes it almost felt like you wanted kirishima, like you needed him despite swearing that you weren't into the burly redhead. though nowadays, there’s a sinister twist in to his gut whenever you’re around — a cool chill that settles in his bones and a pang of fright to his chest where his heart is. like a knife has sliced right through it.

you’re not the same as you were before.

he gets flashes, visions of thinks he feels like he’s not supposed to see — your eyes disappearing into your skull and reappearing in a twisted shade of dark red, deep enough to rival blood diamonds and rubies. oftentimes there’s a devil’s tail and demon fangs that drip with a viscous substance akin to the one that runs through his veins and carries oxygen to his lungs. and in the days after his visions, you seem more full of life, more confident and hotter than previous ones.

that’s when it hits him, like a sturdy building coming down on eijirou all at once. rose tinted glass shatters around him, knocking his skin — making him bleed as it’s shards form a truth that he has been dreading.

whatever it is that you are, whatever it is that you’ve become is the reason for all of this death.

eijirou kirishima’s best friend… you… are a demon, a demonised college student that kills college girls for sport.

in one of his dreams, eijirou sees you soaked to the bone in blood like you've drowned in a rouge tainted oil slick. you’re still as ethereal as you’ve ever been, perhaps even glowing — and even though it’s just a dream and he knows what you’ve done, he still finds himself that boy who years for you and your body against his. on top of his. moving with his—

shooting up from the comfort of his sheets, kirishima palms the dull ache at the forefront of his mind as he tries to rid himself of all thoughts regarding you. funnily enough, you’re already there, waiting for him practically naked at the foot of his bed as if eijirou had used a demon circle to summon you in the middle of the night. it never used to be like that, where he’d call for you and you’d actually answer.

you’ve been in his room more times than he can count — put posters up with him, had sleepovers, danced to old music on his stereo tapes. but this time isn’t the same. firstly, you’ve never been bare below the waist and secondly, you’ve never looked this insane or deranged. the hairs on the back of the redhead’s neck stand on end, his spiked pulse — elevated and alive steadily thumps through him so loud he’s scared that you might hear it… and yet….

“what are you even doing here? don’t you know it’s late?” kirishima yawns, stretching out his tired limbs as he holds his arms above his head for some relief in his taut muscles.

peeking a crimson eye open to look at you, the smear of blood at the corner of your plump lips doesn’t go unnoticed by him, though, it still doesn’t elicit the reaction eijirou expects from himself. the innate human desire to survive.

“i owe you an explanation.” the smile that you give him is too fast to be genuine, just barely reaching your big shiny eyes. there’s that feeling again, the knots in eijirou’s stomach — the ones that let him know something is off. “you know what i am, i want to tell you why.” your tone is sickly sweet like molasses in his ears, innocent as if you’re not a demon.

as if you’re not the one behind all of this death. you explain to kirishima in detail about the night a group of bandmates sacrificed you to satan so that they could go global. how they mistook you for a virgin sacrifice. how the devil resides within you now. you tell him about the blood of your victims and the missing people. how it’s the only thing you can stomach. how it makes you grow stronger, how it heals you, how much you love the new version of you. the murderous you.

he thinks you might have gone insane when you flip a lighter from your pocket to burn your tongue — showing how you recover almost instantly. it’s only then that fear strikes eijirou in the chest with the power of a lightning bolt — realising that he’s well and truly lost his best friend. to satan or to insanity.

poor, gullible, eijirou kirishima — for doubting that his best friend could be capable of such heinous crimes. and while you stand there, looking more alive and more beautiful than ever… he just can’t fight the feeling that makes him want to run.

the red head quickly realises that he’s no longer faster or stronger than you. for your demon powers have you reaching the bed before he can even throw off the sheets. your toned thighs swing around his waist to lock eijirou down to the bed, his back hitting the blankets with a dull thud and his wrist nearly crushed in your hand — wrestling his concealed knife away from your chest, just barely nicking you.

“why would you want to hurt me, eiji?” you comment softly, acting as if everything is as it were before you changed. “it’s still the same old me!” the both of you are breathing deep from where your old friend thrashes underneath you, his pupils dilating and casting a dark shadow over his terrified red eyes. “i really don’t want to hurt you.”

this could be it. he thinks. his life flashing before his eyes just like the stories say. “t-then don’t…” kirishima stutters, the pitch of his voice spiking as you shift on top of him — inspecting him as if he’s a piece of meat. you have him right where you want him, his blade under your control, his vital organs open and vulnerable. one wrong move and kirishima could be next on your list of life-force victims. “you don’t have to.”

“you’re right… i don’t think i will.” cooing, you take your free hand down eijirou’s muscled body, tongue darting out to wet your lips while your hips grind down on his swelling erection — painfully hard from the mix of arousal and fear coursing through his blood stream. “on one condition,” you continue on, moaning lightly at the sensation of your clothed clit catching on his cockhead. “you let me feed from you.”

“w-will you kill me?”

“only if you stop trying to kill me.” you’re not upset, from what he can tell — revelling in your best friend’s guilt and betrayal as his knife drags along your collarbones in a thin slice from where you’ve let your guard down.

a crimson gaze flickers to all of the vital points on your face — searching for your innocence and any traces of who you once were. seizing the opportunity hiding within your hesitation and the crack in your resolve, kirishima tries once more to shove you off of him but makes the mistake of trusting your facade. he’s quick but you’re quicker, raking your nails over his toned stomach until they catch on the waistband of his shorts. as soon as his erection springs free — wetly slapping against his stomach whilst precum tangles in the coarse black of his pubic hair, you slither your hot cunt down on to him.

straight to the hilt.

your thighs either side of his angled hips keep the redhead anchored to his sheets and your hands splayed across his stomach stop him from writhing away from your quivering cunt as it clenches around him. not that he’d want to. pull out of you, of course. eijirou grows delirious, hot under the collar at the feeling of his weighty cock pulsing against your biscuits, squishy insides. a tender whimper bubbles up on his slightly chapped lips, his pointed teeth sinking into the swell of his lower one to try and muffle the pathetic sound.

he can hardly believe this. that is best friend, whatever form you might be taking right now, is sitting on his fat, drippy dick like he’s always dreamed of. any guilt kirishima has pulsing through his veins (in regards to basically cheating on bakugou, his boyfriend, no less) is replaced by white hot blistering lust. it burns at his nerve endings, painfully tremors through his erection trapped by your welcoming wet walls. it leaks against pleasure spots in the form of sticky precum — white and thick as it paints your pussy while you cockwarm him.

kirishima swallows and his adam’s apple bobs, he looks up at you through his dark long lashes without a word — afraid this his voice will fail him and end up in a moan.

“please, eijirou,” you purr, completely devoid of any blame-worthiness or evidence of your wrong doings. you’ve killed people. innocent girls for your own bloodlust and now you’re where — seated on your bestie’s dick as if your crimes mean nothing. and with a pussy like yours, wrapped around kirishima so warmly and tightly, he might start to believe that you’re innocent too. “let me feed from you, promise i won’t hurt you. i just…need…”

leaning down towards his neck, your hips shift above his own, encouraging his heavy girth to sink deeper inside of you — walls rippling pleasurably around him. the sudden movement causes a low, and needy groan to take residence in kirishima’s chest — taking root in his lungs and other vital organs. his head tips back into the pillows, ruby, blood red locks tussled against their fabric as a bead of sweat rolls down his forehead and another down his chin. tracing the ridges of his adam’s apple and the column of his throat.

his eyes don’t dare flutter shut, coasting over your every move as your lips ghost over his prominent collarbone and then his neck — pressing into his pulse pout where his heartbeat races, fear and adrenaline shooting through his body thanks to the steady thump of his heart.

you hear it all, the frightened tune of eijirou’s bodily orchestra only causing your mouth to water. “just need to taste you…” pouting, you nudge the point at which his chiselled jaw meets his neck. “need you.”

slowly but surely, your hunger reveals your truest form — and instead of the sweet girl eijirou kirishima once new, you sprout demon horns and a tail, nails that could tear a throat out, teeth that could surely cause carnage and a feral grin proving to the redhead that you would eat him alive. in contrast, your tone is sweet like syrupy honey or hard candy, the kind that eijirou loves — it’s salacious and full of wanton and he knows that he should resist. but you’ve always had a way of getting what you want out of him — he can never say no to you. you are his girl after all.

and no matter how hard he tries to escape your clutches — he will always be yours.

“f-fine,” kirishima barks, albeit shakily. “t-take what you need. just as long as you promise not to kill me.”

“pinky, baby.” comes your angelic coo, contrasting with the deep red of your own blood as it drips against kirishima’s golden boy skin. your hands massage over his sensitive pecs, smearing your hot blood over his nipples as they pebble under your fiendish touch. there’s a devilish spark in your pretty eyes once he agrees, and so, you latch onto his gorgeous, golden tanned skin ready to feed on kirishima to your heart's content.

as the pointed edge of your teeth sink into eijirou’s neck, his hips instinctively turn upwards and nudge his thick cock against your womb while layers of your juices spiral down each prominent blue vein that decorates his shaft. you bite down, hard, bruising him with shades of deep purple and midnight blue as if you’re creating a work of art. you suck the life from kirishima, close to draining his blood as if you’re a vampire fledgling with her first catch of prey.

there’s a weakness and a fuzziness that sits comfortably over eijirou’s brain, enhanced by the steady stream you set your hips — gently lifting and dropping them over the red head’s lap. the more energy, the more life force, that you drink from him — a mix of your blood and his glossing over your lips, the more turned on you feel. your cunt drips down his balls like a never ending tap, you’re so wet that a lewd slap echoes throughout your best friend’s bedroom.

even though you’re the one in control, guiding the hum of ecstasy that courses throughout kirishima's entire body, the waves that make him tingle from the top of his head to the tips of his toes — there’s no doubt that he has you losing your composure. the delicious burn of his girth against the tight rim of your entrance every time you sink down on the redhead drives you up the wall and pulls innocent whimpers from the bloody seam of your lips.

having him pressed up against your silken walls, bearing down on that special spot inside your swollen sinful pussy while you drain the man fry of his life force causes your jaw to go slack and tony spurts of his seed to coat your puffy folds. “oh fuck!” you drawl all high pitched, eyes disappearing into your skull as a bemused and blood-coated smile stretches across your angelic face. “you feel like heaven, eiji.” to pacify yourself, you lick over the puncture wound of your teeth that you’ve left against kirishima’s neck, grabbing him by the cheeks and tilting his head so you have access to the other side. “you taste so good, feel even better.”

“y-yeah?” kirishima asks, his voice shaky and extra husky from the lust. against his better judgement, clouded by all that is you — his rough hands fall to your doughy hips, manoeuvring you on his throbbing dick to his liking. “i-i like the way you fuck me, baby. but please…please move a little faster…”eijirou feels like he’s going insane beneath you chasing your sweltering and souse sex like a man following a mirage to quench his thirst. he behinds to push upward where you bounce your ass and pull off his cock, your hips rocking together fluidly.

his morals are completely abandoned, he could care less about the fact that you might be a killer, that you’re some kind of otherworldly being — especially when you ride him just like that. you release his raw bitten neck from your jaws of death, face and chin covered in blood and spit, while your hands dance down your chest and tweak at your nipples for your best friend’s viewing pleasure. he groans lowly at the sight, extending a thumb from your hip to reach between your doughy thighs and fat pussy lips so he can spread you wide open for him.

“g-getting bold, are we eiji?” you simper, ruby red lips caught between your pointy teeth when the rough pad of his thumb grazes your swollen clit as it peaks from between your folds. feverishly, you grind against kirishima’s digit, leaving a treacle-like trace of your sweet nectar against his hand. “so nasty. trying to get me off while i drain you dry. you m-must be delirious. so cute.”

he hates the way that you mock him, poke fun at how fucked up kirishima is for you. even though he knows that you’re slowly but surely killing him, drinking his blood while you take a seat on his achy, wet cock — he can’t help but give into you. eijirou wonders if this is how your other victims went out, if your precious tits swaying in their hot faces were the last thing they saw before you took them out. it’s a crude thought, but it only serves to turn him on even more. picturing you this way above others, your skin shining in the moonlight from the perspiration that glitters over you along with your glistening slit that leaves webs of your slick in his pubic hair.

while his thoughts escape him and his imagination runs wild, your next move catches the redhead by surprise. you grip his throat tight as leverage as you ride the man for dear life, pudgy thighs slapping against his strong ones, clit grinding against his pelvis and fingers. “fuck me,” eijirou begs, face twisted in rapture and guilt, cheeks as red as his hair. “fuck me harder, take what you want from me. j-just give it to me.”

it must be the lack of oxygen to his brain that obscures his view of you — the cold hearted killer on campus. because eijirou only sees his best friend, the girl he’s wanted his entire life, falling apart on his creamy cock as it bullies it’s way into your womb. he doesn’t care what you do to him as long as he keeps feeling as high as cloud nine.

the way you fuck yourself down on him right now, it’s like an out of body experience. you’re hot all over, out of control, objects and and Knick knacks around kirishima’s room levitating with the sheer amount of power and euphoria pulsating through your sweaty bodies as they move together in a shamefully slurry dance.

his head rolls to the side when you speed up, slamming your clenching cunt down on him with an erratic rhythm — a crude mix of your arousals flying about the place and wafting with the scent of metallic blood in the sex trained air. “you’re so needy, eijirou. bakugou hasn’t been taking care of you.” you tease through baited breath, throwing your hips down on him so that his milky precum spreads along your ribbed and sensitive walls.

you sink your teeth into his perfectly poised neck once more, leaving your mark and draining him of that life energy again. kirishima wails at your comment, chest heaving and eyes watering, his lungs threatening to explode with blistering lust. the more you bite at him, take his blood and his life, the more powerful eijirou feels. because you seem to have forgotten one key element to your newly found powers.

where your other victims were torn to shreds, the bites you leave on kirishima leave him with pieces of your demon abilities too.

“you can’t even respond, s’kinda pathetic, don’t you think eiji?” your words are harsher, meaner, and the red head can’t tell if it makes him want to fuck you or hate you more. “that you’re willing to let me sue you like this. take your life just like every pretty girl before you…maybe when i’m done with you, i’ll pick on your little boyfriend next—“

you truly are the fucking devil.

though everything you say is slurred and in the heat of the moment — you don’t have a chance to finish. every syllable ends in a salacious squeal when kirishima uses his newfound strength to wildly jackhammer into you. so fast and fucking hard that his weighty breeder’s balls smack against the jiggly flesh of your ass. his beefy arms snake their way around your shoulders, anchoring you to his girth while the bed creaks beneath the weight.

“will you fucking quit it?” in split second and surprising turn of events, eijirou has you flipped onto your stomach — sweaty chest to your back and cock so deep his pelvis barely peels away from your ass as it bounces for him. “you promised not to try and hurt me. but if you want it to hurt, then I’ll make it so.”

cockwarming him hardly prepared you for just how big and blessed your best friend is. chubby, fat and drooly as his cock glides through the sugar glazed lining of your gushy walls. every time your creamy hole clamps down on him, he threatens to crumble. like a mountain with an avalanche, his girth doused in your sweet essence and his breath shaky against your ear. kirishima grips at your demon’s tail where it sprouts just above your ass, stroking it lewdly just to hear you yowl for him.

the sheets below become victim to your pointed teeth, tearing through the soft linen in an attempt to calm your pornographic screams. “c’mon big guy,” you growl into the sheets, muffled, needy and amused, while you run your tongue over blood soaked teeth. “i thought you were going to make it hurt—“

“don’t test my patience, sweetheart,” your best friend snarls back as if you’re two animals fighting over land or territory — using his brute force, eijirou grips you by the back of your neck in a similar fashion to the way you did him, and yanks you onto your knees so that you’re both kneeling in the bed while eijirou fucks your wet little cunt raw. “if ‘m gonna fuck you, it’s going to be by my rules. so do me a fuckin’ favour and keep your pretty mouth shut, alright?”

the bed squeals louder than you do with this new position, eijirou angling his hips up to meet your g-spot perfectly — letting your eager pussy swallow him down. you lose control quicker than your brain can even realise, overpowered by the way the redhead brutally pounds into you, milky and heavy precum pearling along your ribbed walls like dew droplets in a black widow’s spiderweb. your sex welcome him home as if he was never meant to leave, clench on his bright red tip as you froth at his base and drop down his balls.

equally, your mouth foams with copious amounts of spit, your head hanging low while eijirou ruts you into a state of delirium. he licks the trace of drool seeping out of loud mouth and follows it up to your lips — generously feeding you his hungry moans and strings of spit. keeping you sedated, all for him while your tongues roll over one another in a fierce battle, neither of you knowing who will come out on top.

“you’re disgusting,” kirishima barks against your nape, giving it a near murderous squeeze — he fumbles around in the sheets and somehow locates the knife from before, pressing its cool blade against your skin with his free hand. you can just about hear him over the pap, pap, pap of his Rick plunging in and out of your slick walls. “don’t you feel guilty? huh? for…fuck, killing anyone?” the metal against your skin makes you moan, makes kirishima light headed and the whole ordeal so much hotter.

but you somehow manage to smirk in response, throwing it back into the red head aggressively— drowning in the pleasure. “don’t you feel guilty for fucking their killer?”

you grip the knife, pulling it closer to your vitality veins, light trails of blood from the wound smearing along kirishima’s skin meeting your skin. “why shouldn’t i kill you?”

“y-you don’t have a reason not to!” you battle through the thick drool on your tongue, hyperfocus in the precum and slick slinging between your sore thighs. you’re wrecked and ruined, losing your demon strength to your goodie two shoes best friend. “i’m a god, death doesn’t s-scare me!” with the way his dick churns you up, eijirou stretches you beyond your limits and preps you to take his impending heavy load. “f-fuck! right there, k-kiri!”

it’s so good that your demon powers activate on their own, your insides that burn bright with ecstasy grow so hot that they heat the knife pressed against you — branding eijirou’s hand with your claim until he drops the hot metal. he falters, the rhythm of his thrusts going sloppy while a creamy sound echoes between your sexes. you’ve changed and you’re right.

if eijirou kirishima really cared about your victims he would have turned you in and ended this all at the first chance. instead he dips into your demonic charm, afraid of what lies on the other end of this sinful ordeal. does he let you go? does he turn you in? does he keep his best friend here in his arms no matter what crimes you may commit?

“oh…oh eiji!” you whine, small and cute. “‘m gonna cum! please cum for me…cum with me.”

gone is his precious best friend, replaced with a slutty demon trying to selfishly such down his cock. lost in the moment of the ecstasy, you reach back and rake your talons across his skin in one last attempt to leave your mark and it’s only then that eijirou has had enough. using all of his strength, he roughly pushes you down to the sheets once more — forcing the sheets into your mouth to keep you quiet.

“i can’t stand you.” he reiterates, huffing against your shoulder while locks of his hair stick to your hot, sweaty bodies. “you’re so fucking greedy. so evil…”eijirou shifts to press his hand into the pillow next to your head, smiling sadistically at your muffled screams as he puts the last of his energy into making you cum just as you want. because you always get what you want out of him. “y-you don’t even deserve this.”

“b-but you’ll give it to me,” you pant around your mock gag, swallowing down thickly. “i’ll keep killing if i have to… you’ll still want me…”

even if it’s true, eijirou always wanting you, he can’t shake the feeling that you’re no longer the girl he used to know. used to love. his warm and kind persona you once knew is replaced with a similar demonic beast full of lust. “yeah i will and you’ll fuckin’ take it.” he threatens, continually bucking into you and nudging your g-spot in a swaying dance of sacrilege. “s-shit, you’re gettin’ tight. are you really that close, so soon?”

all you can do is nod — grabbing and biting at anything to keep yourself calm. the world around you shakes furiously and white blinds your gaze as you cum, juices splashing back onto kirishima’s meaty girth. “let me give it to you, hm? cream this pussy. make you mine like you want…” comes the red head’s last simper before the dam breaks and your demon cunt drains him dry, milking him for every last drop of his potent white seed.

the two of you are reduced to shallow breaths and heavy eyelids — exhausted from the loss of blood and sharing of demon powers.

but before you can turn around and sing kirishima your praises — the air is sucked from your lungs, a searing pain shooting through your back right through to the centre of your chest. thick, hot blood fills your lungs and the cavity in which they rest, it gathers at the corners of your cherry bitten lips and seeps through the knife wound kirishima has inflicted on you.

he’s quite literally stabbed you in the back.

he had no other choice, he couldn’t let you go on hurting people and tarnishing the image of his once best friend. you were different now, you had no place in the world anymore. it was your turn at death’s door, eijirou had decided.

“i… i’m sorry,” he says carefully, pulling out and away from you as you lay dying beneath him. “i… i couldn’t—“

with the last of your energy you offer eijirou kirishima a weak and bloody smile. “s’okay…” your breathing slows in understanding, and he lets go of the knife in your back. “so by any chance… have a tampon?”

of course you would find it in you to make a joke when faced with death. you weren’t afraid of anything.

and now, neither was kirishima.

with his newfound demon powers he wouldn’t let your death nor that of others go in vein. he would find the pro heroes who did his to you, made him do this to you, and make them pay.

a life for a life. a death for the same price.

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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year

Note

a one shot w jk and the one night stand scenario pls pls i beg 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️ delulu levels r off the charts ever since ck

What he wants, he gets

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader (idol au)

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

3000 celebration

‘Fuck,’ you mouthed as you looked down at your bare body covered only by a white sheet, and then slowly and horrifyingly turned to look at the man beside you. Your eyes widened even further, your heart beat faster as recognition dawned on your face.

Fuck, indeed.

You let your head fell back down on the pillow in frustration. You couldn’t even have the luxury of experiencing any onslaught of confusion about what happened the night before because you knew full well. The soreness in between your thighs and the marks you could see scattered on your chest were enough to tell you what shouldn’t have happened.

You blamed the alcohol.

You even blamed the man beside you.

But worst of all, you blamed yourself.

You meant, in the first place, why did you allow yourself to go out and drink and completely lost it?!

And of all the people you could have slept with, why on earth did you sleep with the Jeon Jungkook?!

God, you knew you had to leave before he even woke up. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he would react when he saw you beside him. He would probably think you tricked him somehow.

With bated breath, you lifted the heavy arm filled with artistic tattoos. You carefully watched his face, taking note of the way he whined when you left his arm. He was frowning adorably before you place a pillow in his arm.

You looked down at his handsome face. His dark, luscious hair was like a halo in perfect contrast to the white pillow. His slightly agape lips looked as kissable as they did last night. Jeon Jungkook looked like a dark prince that stepped out of a fairytale. He looked like a dream with his innocent face and his eyes filled with childlike wonder, yet his sinful body told a different story.

Sadly, you had to leave the dream and wake up.

You just wished he didn’t recognize you.

With a small, bitter smile on your lips, you kissed his cheek softly. And with that, you left. In your haste, you unknowingly left behind your bracelet with your name engraved on the inside,

Three weeks passed and yet, the memory of your time with him was still deeply etched in your mind. The way he kept looking at you in secret, a shy smile gracing his lips, the way the colorful lights from the club reflected on him, the way he finally built the courage to walk to you- they were all living rent free in your mind. The marks he so delightfully left in your skin may have already faded, but you could still feel him. The way he was so shy when he approached you was so opposite to how he was when he was on stage. The way he laughed at your jokes was like music in your ears… and the way he looked at you with interest and shyness both glinting in his eyes made you pull him by his clothes to kiss him. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to forget. You have to if you were going to work with the group.

“Until when are you going to sulk, Jungkookie?” Jin asked the youngest maknae, his voice both worried and with a hint of sermon. Ever since he woke up hours later without you and with no trace of you except the bracelet you left behind, he felt angry. That was almost a month ago and everyone in the group could feel the shift in his mood and it was affecting them.

Jungkook was someone who was often laidback, someone who didn’t want to feel negative emotions. However, everyone knew he hated when he was being ignored and what you were doing was the highest form of neglect he had ever felt in his life.

“Until I see her again,” he answered quietly, his eyes focused on the bracelet he was wearing. It was tight on his wrist, but he didn’t care. This bracelet was the only information he had on you.

“Jungkook, you know we always give you everything you want. But we can’t give you her. Not when we don’t know anything about her except her first name,” Namjoon explained gently, his patience endless when it came to the golden maknae. He could see how you were able to affect Jungkook. This was the first time they saw him be attracted to someone, really attracted to someone.

Because if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t lose sleep over you. He wouldn’t go home to his hyungs with tears in his eyes saying he lost you. He wouldn’t still look for you if you were meaningless.

“You’ll find her, Jungkook. We’ll help you, okay? But now, we need you to focus in this meeting.”

The meeting ran long. It was both draining yet productive to the boys. After deciding to call it a day, Jungkook walked out of the room. His eyes were focused on his phone when he felt someone ran into him. His hand immediately went out to steady her.

The girl bowed down her head in apology, her hair covering her face as she refused to meet Jungkook’s doe eyes. He tilted his head, about to ask her if she was okay. His large hand was still touching her forearm when he caught her.

And he felt something he couldn’t name.

Your heart beat faster. It was just your luck to run into him when you thought you successfully evaded him the whole meeting. But there was no way he recognized you, right?

“Have..have we met before?” He asked in confusion, his voice deep as he tried to peek at your face.

“N-no,” you answered while shaking your head, your hair still carefully placed in front of you. Your eyes were now on his hand that was still touching you. Your eyes widened when you recognized that bracelet.

It was yours.

Why was he wearing that?

In your surprise, you looked up at his dark and beautiful eyes. And before he could even process anything, you were apologizing yet again and walking as fast as you could to the elevator without looking suspicious.

Jungkook turned his broad back on you, his brows furrowed as he tried to remember your features and where he saw you. It was merely a second, only full second that he got to see your face before you hid behind your hair again.

You really looked familiar.

You felt familiar.

Could you be-

“Y/N! Enjoy your weekend!”

You had just entered when your coworker saw you. She waved at you, unknowing about the chaos she created.

The elevator was closing when you looked up and saw Jungkook snapped his head to you. His eyes looked betrayed as recognition finally dawned on him.

It was you.

It was your name. With purpose, he ran to the elevator only for him to miss it by half a second. You slumped back to the wall. There was no way that he didn’t recognize you now, his face told you everything.

Fuck. He was fucking mad.

He was fuming mad. He probably thought that you took advantage of him, never minding that he was bigger and stronger than you.

But still, he was younger than you by almost two years. You closed your eyes, praying this was all a bad dream. But the elevator finally dinged, signaling the basement floor. You opened your eyes just as the elevator door opened, only to reveal a huffing Jungkook.

He was breathing hard after running down the flights of stairs. There was no way in hell you would escape him now, not when he finally found you.

His dark clothes made him looked more imposing, more dangerous. His booted feet entered the elevator slowly, sauntering to where you were practically glued to the wall.

“Why are you running from me, noona?” He asked with his head tilted to the side. His voice was soft, but he was anything but.

Jungkook was both happy, yet angry. Happy that he finally found you. Angry that you had once again ran away from him, something that you weren’t allowed to do anymore.

Not when he finally found you.

“J-jungkook, that night was a mistake. I’m sorry,” you said with shaky voice, your hand stretched out in front of you to stop him from cornering you even further.

“Noona, how could you leave me alone?” He asked you with a pout, his hand caressing your face. Fucking finally. Finally, he could touch you again. “You promised me that you wouldn’t leave me.”

What?

“It wasn’t a mistake…it was meant to be,” he continued despite your grip on his thick wrist. You tried to stop him, but he was too determined and strong. His large body crowded you. He looked down at you with dark eyes, his eyebrow piercing glinting from the elevator’s light.

“But I forgive you. We’ll start again, noona.”

You were attracted to him, really you were. But the way he was right now, the way he sounded almost…terrifying, woke you up from the dream you were in. Jungkook was no prince charming.

“I need you to step back, Jungkook,” you said with a strong voice, pushing him away to no avail. “We need to talk about this?”

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You want to talk? Fine, we’ll talk, noona.”

And before you knew it, he leaned down and your body was thrown over his wide shoulder.

Who would hear your cry for help in the basement? Who would stop him?

“Is that her?” Taehyung asked as he watched their maknae carried someone over his shoulder. He was finally smiling. No one knew this side of Jungkook. Behind his sweet smiles and personality, Jeon Jungkook was an obsessive man. No one knew, and unlucky you, you were about to experience first hand.

“It seems like,” Jimin answered before smiling.

No one could really control their maknae. What he wanted, he got.

Alternative ending

#jeon jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #yandere bts #3000 celebration #jungkook x you #yandere jungkook #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook x uou #jeon jungkook x reader

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stellarbit · 20 days

Text

Past Echoes

4.0k words. Light references to intimacy.

Fitting back in with the Bad Batch was an adjustment. Accidentally letting it slip that you and Echo had more history than Tech, Echo, and Wrecker realized... made it a bit more challenging.

Light reference to this lil fic Shadows of the Order. Do you want some jealous Tech? Protective Echo? A slightly voyeuristic Hunter? I gotchu.

I had a thought - the Batch would most definitely hate the idea of you having previous nsfw fun with a reg. But what if it was a 'the call is coming from inside the house' situation. Enjoyyyyy

When the Batch returned to Ord Mantel, you and O2 followed. Cid, a former Jedi informant, didn't recognize you, and you didn't recognize her—fortunately. She wasn't thrilled about your presence at first. It wasn't until you completed a solo job for her, proving your worth while the Batch tackled their mission, that her complaints subsided.

It became routine for you and O2 to take on jobs separately from the Batch whenever possible. The occasional solitude was a balm, helping you adjust to the constant company.You’d forgotten what it was like to be a part of a squad and to have any attention on you.

Their intense attention was making it all the more challenging.

Reuniting with you after Order 66 mended a wound in them. The loss of Crosshair left a void, partially filled by Omega's arrival. She helped them move forward, bridging the gap left behind. Your presence reignited a sense of the familiar, despite the undeniable changes. Where you once engaged freely, laughing and unhesitant in physical affection, you now held yourself apart, you were now detached and resentful as they saw it.

All of them but Echo. He’d known you longer than the others, back to your days as a Jedi Knight fighting with the 501st, and knew personally how hard adjusting could be.

Adjusting to your new reality was more exhausting than you'd anticipated, not so much a matter of resentment as it was sheer fatigue. Socializing, something that once came as naturally as breathing, now consumed a significant chunk of your mental energy. In some ways, Hunter, Tech, Wrecker, and Echo remained unchanged, the brothers you remembered. Yet, in other ways, they were entirely different, forcing you to relearn how to interact with them as if meeting for the first time.

Adjusting to the presence of a child was a whole separate issue.

Aside from taking some missions separately, you’d all fallen into another routine. Between missions, you all retreated to a modest dwelling you'd secured on the outskirts of Ord Mantell. The Marauder had quickly become too small for all of you.

It wasn’t big and privacy was scarce with most of the space being communal. A small refresher, built a short walk into the desert, provided a sliver of solitude from the group's constant buzz.

The moons were starting to set by the time you and O2 returned from your most recent job. You were sore and ready to shut O2 down by the time you walked into Cid’s.

“Welcome back!” Wrecker shouted, tossing you a box almost faster than you could react. “Looks like another successful mission for you.” You snorted and passed the carton of mantell mix to O2.

Hunter and Omega were immersed in the game at the dejarik table, Tech at the bar with a datapad, and Wrecker and Echo in a booth along the wall observing it all. You headed straight for the bar, a slight limp in your gate.

Echo's posture snapped to attention as he observed your approach. The abruptness of his movement as he rose was enough to send their table jostling. Wrecker steadied the table, thrown off by the sudden energy, and watched his brother march over.

“Must’ve been an easy job if you got back before us.” You teased and slid onto a bar stool, handing Cid her client’s requested datastick.

“Heh, easy for us!” Omega boasted and thrust a thumb to her chest. Hunter briefly smiled at the young clone before focusing on the game again.

Echo, however, wasn’t so easily diverted. He approached, his concern etched deeply into his features as he placed a firm hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “Looks like it was a rough one if you’re limping back,” he said, his voice carrying a scolding edge.

Behind you, O2, seemingly oblivious to the gravity of the moment and embodying the classic B1 battle droid blend of sass and clumsiness, trundled up. “If you ask me, we had the easy job. I only tripped twice and only one of those times was in front of enemies. Improvement!”

You waved a hand at Cid, signaling for a drink and said, “Getting old is rough. It’s nothing new.” Your attempt to sooth his stern expression fell flat.

Echo frowned and shook his head before bending to one knee. Examining your leg, Echo slid his hand behind your knee and lifted it up. His hand squeezed around your knee as his thumb worked into the joint. It brought you visible relief, indicative of the sigh and relaxed tilt of your head.

As Echo’s hand continued its examination down the length of your calf, he asked , “Is it acting up?”

Tech leaned from his stool to peer over Echo’s shoulder, taking special note of Echo’s hand still on your knee. “To what are you referring?”

Echo, without shifting his gaze from your leg, replied with a hint of frustration, “Her knee. She injured it during the Battle of Christophsis.” He paused, his voice softening as he looked up at you, concern replacing annoyance. “We’ve talked about this.”

Cid slid your drink across the bar to you, which you promptly tilted towards Echo. “I have been, nanny droid, but I can’t baby it all the time.” You took a large gulp of the drink and said, “Besides, it always aches after landing.” Since you’d known Echo, he’d always doted on you to some extent. Since your reunion though it was borderline overbearing.

Tech, ever the voice of logical reason, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Actually, that discomfort is likely due to the variations in air pressure and altitude experienced during descent. The symptoms should ease within a few hours. There is no cause for alarm.”

Echo’s response was a sharp and disapproving glance at Tech..

You hummed a laugh as you finished your drink. Setting the glass down and patting Echo’s hand, you turned away from the cybernetic clone. “Which reminds me,” you gestured to O2 in a ‘follow me’ fashion. “O2, c’mon. I need your help with my shoulder.”

That caught Hunter’s attention. He turned from the dejarik table. “Your shoulder?”

That particular injury was a relic of Order 66, a scar you hadn’t planned on discussing.

“I got shot and it didn’t heal right, but O2 helps with the occasional steroid shot.” Narrowing your eyes at O2, you rolled out your shoulder. “This time get it on the first stick.” You said as the two of you started towards the door.

“Hey!” The battle droid whined after you. “It’s not my fault you won’t calibrate my sensors.”

“Ah, ah, ah!” You shook your hands at O2 and jabbed a finger into their chest plate, “And I told you I’ll get to it. Just-”

“Not happening.” Echo cut in firmly just as you hit the stairs.

Pausing mid-step, one foot hovering above landing to the next flight of stairs, you turned back to your friend. “Excuse me?”

Echo met you on the stairs. “That clanker is not getting the chance to make it worse.

You grounded yourself and notched a hand on your hip. “Echo,” Your voice betrayed your exhaustion. “O2 can help just fine.” Echo’s face pinched together at the mention of the droid. His disdain and distrust for droids had not eased with O2’s presence.

Echo's resolve was unyielding, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that left little room for debate. "No. I'm not letting that droid anywhere near you with a needle. It's not about its capabilities; it's about doing this right," he stated, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "We're not taking any chances with your health."

You sighed, resisting Echo would only prove futile. “Alright, alright,” you conceded and started back up the stairs. “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before,” you quipped, too tired to think about what you just let slip.

Echo's reaction was immediate; his eyebrows arched in surprise, clearly he hadn't anticipated such a slip. He quickly glanced at his brothers, hoping that your words had somehow escaped their notice.

It hadn’t.

Hunter's gaze shifted, a flicker of surprise crossing his features. Wrecker's mouth hung open, momentarily lost for words, while Omega looked between them all, sensing a tension she couldn't quite grasp.

Tech, who was usually composed and unfazed, seemed especially taken aback. His eyes widened behind his goggles, and for once, he too was at a loss, his brain trying to piece together this new information with the efficiency of a computer experiencing a glitch.

The others were left in a similar stunned silence, grappling with the sudden insight into a part of Echo and your past that had been carefully veiled until now. It was a sudden glimpse into the shared history between you and Echo—a history that was evidently more intimate than any had realized.

A subtle flush crept over Echo's cheeks, a rare display of embarrassment from the stoic soldier, before he turned, almost sheepishly, to follow you up the stairs.

The sound of the closing door echoed down the stairwell, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Cid, ever the observer, couldn't help but comment, "Didn't think Killjoy had it in him."

“Had what in him?” Omega asked, her head shifted between her brothers, expectantly waiting for an answer.

Cid leaned over the bar, “What are you, fresh out of the tube or something? They-”

“Were in the war together.” Hunter cut Cid off sharply. “Soldiers…” he struggled to find the appropriate words. “...have to dress wounds all the time.” He tapped his finger on the dejarik table. “It’s probably best we head back too.”

Omega led the way out with O2's unwieldy form bobbing along beside her. Wrecker and Hunter followed, their broad shoulders nearly blocking the path, while Tech lagged behind, lost in thought.

Wrecker leaned in, his whispering not as quiet as he might have thought. "There’s no way we wouldn’t have noticed something... And aren't Jedi not supposed-”

Hunter quickly silenced Wrecker. The situation was already uncomfortable without Omega’s curiosity making it worse. He caught sight of Tech, unusually distant and without his usual companion, his datapad, in hand.

There had been signs, subtle yet unmistakable, of something more between you and Tech. Hunter prided himself on his ability to read situations, to understand his team beyond words. The knowledge of your intimacy with Tech had bothered him, sparking an unexpected intrigue in him.

He’d smelled, more than once,Tech’s scent on you. The first time it had dredged up an ugly feeling inside the tattooed clone, but that feeling quickly evolved into something stranger.

Hunter remembered a moment, long before the chaos of Order 66, when he and Crosshair had stumbled upon you and Tech in a compromising situation, ostensibly "repairing" the Marauder's camera system. He’d been catching on to the two of you for a few weeks, but that day he knew for certain. Tech reeked of you and you uncharacteristically jumped at the opportunity to load the ship. It may have been lost on Crosshair, but not Hunter.

He knew what happened and, that night, he enjoyed thinking about it.

On the other hand, the possibility of you and Echo sharing something similar caused him a twinge of jealousy - a new feeling for Hunter. He wasn’t sure what secret you and Echo harbored; he just knew he didn’t like it. He did worry what that meant for the brother behind him.

In the cramped quarters of your makeshift dwelling's refresher, Echo was preparing the syringe. The space was limited, barely accommodating the essentials—a shower, toilet, and sink—yet it somehow felt enough for the two of you squeezed together.

With your back to echo, you sat on the rim of the empty bathtub working at the wrap on your shoulder. Most days you wrapped your shoulder and knee for support. The support it offered varied, but on this day, the wrap was more stubborn than usual.

As you struggled with the final layer, Echo's calloused fingers gently brushed yours aside. The warmth of his touch prompted a soft laugh from you. "Definitely warmer than O2," you commented, the tension easing from your shoulders as the last of the wrap fell away.

"Well, at least fifty percent of me is," Echo replied, his voice carrying a lightness that reminded you of times before the scars of war had marked him. Shutting your eyes, memories of Echo before Skako Minor flooded your mind, back when you were both new to the 501st and the galaxy seemed a vast expanse of possibilities.

Your paths had crossed shortly after you were knighted, and Echo had yet to lose the sheen of a 'shiny.' The connection was instantaneous, each of you quickly fell in together. Your friendship was built on your trust in battle and shared fun, with you playfully chiding him for his by-the-book approach, while he, in turn, found joy in occasionally bending the rules for you.

Your attachment to him was tested after a particularly grueling battle, one that left Echo injured and confined to a med bay. Sneaking in to visit him after hours, you were hit with the reality of how close you had come to losing him. It was within the quiet stolen moments in the med bay that blurred the lines of your camaraderie.

At one point, when you tried to adjust his bandages, Echo's hand caught yours, stopping you. The small touch lifted the weight of the situation. His thumb began gentle little circles on your hand and the bond between you went taught.

Seated beside Echo, your friend who looked at you as more than just a Jedi or commander, you wondered what you may have been without a war. It was hard to imagine, but one thing was clear: the thought of losing Echo, who had become more than just a fellow soldier, was unbearable.

For the first time, you felt that all the hardships of the war might be worth it, just to keep him and his brothers safe. At that moment, the reasons for fighting seemed more personal, tied to the people who mattered most.

The air changed as you noticed Echo’s gaze lingering on your lips.

Without saying a word, you leaned forward. Echo tried sitting up to meet you and that was all it took for you to bridge the gap with a kiss. A first kiss for the both of you. When you pulled back, he pulled back his blanket and, mindful of his injuries and desperate for the closeness, you tucked in beside him.

For that night, the war faded and it was just the two of you in a sanctuary of whispers and touches.

It was the only time and neither of you regretted it, but it only strengthened the depth of trust your shared. It made losing him all the more gutting. Your eyes opened at that thought.

“Echo.” Your voice broke the silence.

“Hold still.” He instructed before you felt the pinch of the shot. When it passed, Echo rolled his thumb over the puncture point and worked pressure into the surrounding muscles. “What is it?”

You began picking up your bandages and held them to your bare chest. “Did I ever tell you,” You glanced over your shoulder, but unable to look at him as you continued, you turned back “Losing you at Citadel was one of the worst pains I’ve ever experienced? You were my best friend… and I left you behind.”

The sight of you, hunched over those bandages, a scar wrecking your back, and the smallest he’d ever seen you, caved Echo’s chest in. Echo realized how much that moment had stayed with you, just as losing you had stayed with him.

Echo leaned down to your level, placing his hand on your scarred shoulder. You answered his touch by turning just enough to meet his gaze.

“You are my best friend.” he said, his voice steady and sincere. The look in his eyes suggested he was navigating through similar memories, yet his demeanor wasn't marred by sorrow. Instead, there was a tranquil acceptance in his expression, a balance between acknowledging the past's pain and appreciating the present's joys. He even managed a small smile. "I never felt abandoned by you. I get it. Losing you," he paused, a brief shadow crossing his face, "it seemed like the galaxy was falling apart, not the war."

Echo’s grip tightened on your shoulder before he stood back up. The smile he gave you was confident and comforting, the same Echo you’d met all that time ago.

“But you are alive and so am I. That’s the only thing that matters now.” His hand traveled up your neck to cradle the side of your head. Then, lightly, he placed a kiss on your head “Let’s keep it that way, shall we?”

He started turning to leave you to wrap up, but paused just short of opening the door. “Oh, and one last thing.”

You’d already started rolling the bandages around your chest, so you didn’t bother to look up but acknowledged him with a nod.

“"The rest of them... they're aware now, of how close we actually are."

His words hung in the air, giving you pause. Only after a beat did the full weight of his statement hit you. Abruptly, you stopped what you were doing and whipped around to face him. "What was that?"

Echo hesitated, then clarified, "You pretty much announced it back at Cid’s that I've ‘seen it all before.’”

As his words sank in, you replayed the exit from Cid’s in your mind, and with growing dread, you realized the implication of your offhand comment. Your eyes batted around, recalling exactly what you’d said on your way out of Cid’s. As the realization fully dawned on you, you looked horrified.

While you and Echo never regretted that night, you both agreed to leave it in the med bay. It couldn’t complicate anything if it stayed as a silent memory.

“Echo-”

His pale skin was rose tinted, barely visible from his hand pinching the bridge of his nose. He glanced upwards, as if seeking divine intervention for a swift escape from the ensuing awkwardness. “I’m not dealing with that jealous lot alone so you better hurry up… Shorty.”

Echo said the nickname , a relic from your time with the 501st, in a way that would’ve made Fives proud. His use of the nickname, light and teasing, was enough to momentarily disarm any retort you had ready. By the time you could react, he had already stepped out.

He waited outside the refresher for you to finish and you both headed inside together. As you both reentered the common area, it was clear that Tech, Hunter, and Wrecker were making a minimal effort to seem occupied with anything but the two of you. O2 and Omega were elsewhere.

Tech’s attention was drilled into fixing a component of the Marauder, but the tightness in his shoulders showed his discomfort. Hunter was sat adjacent Wrecker, sharpening his knife.

Wrecker, in particular, didn't even bother with the pretense of subtlety. His gaze was unabashedly fixed on you both, wide-eyed and overtly curious, as though seeing you in a completely new light for the first time.

Wrecker was the first to break the silence, unable to contain his curiosity. “So, you two?” He gestured between you and Echo.

Tech’s attention snapped from his tinkering, his expression tight, betraying a flicker of discomfort at Wrecker’s blunt inquiry. "Is this really the time to—"

"It's okay, Tech," you interjected, wanting to clear the air before misunderstandings could take root. Echo nodded in agreement, his expression calm.

One of Tech’s hands tightened into a fist and he glanced away. With not enough information to assess this sort of situation, he was frustrated and struggling to process it. Tech adjusted his goggles, his voice a mix of resignation and annoyance. "I suppose clarity on the matter would... facilitate a return to normalcy."

Echo glanced at the rest of the squad, then back to you, a silent agreement passing between you. He sighed, "Yes, we had a moment. A long time ago. It wasn't serious, and it's in the past."

Hunter finally spoke, raising a hand to stop the conversation., “We don’t need the details.” He sighed and sat up in his chair. “If it’s in the past, that’s that.” Standing, he replaced the knife in his forearm sheath and continued in a flat tone, “Just caught us off guard is all.,” His gaze swept from you to Echo and then rested on Tech.

Tech finally spoke up, his usual composure regained. “As long as this… history doesn’t interfere with our missions, it remains a personal matter.” Yet, beneath his measured words, a hint of unresolved tension lingered.

Wrecker, processing the information, scratched his head, then offered a shrug. “Guess we’ve all got our stories, huh? Just didn’t see this one coming.” Ever the one to lighten the mood, Wrecker clapped his hands. “Well, now that’s settled, who’s hungry?”

Your eyes caught Tech’s. One of his hands rested on his leg while his thumb rubbed against his forefinger nervously. His characteristic confidence dimmed. You weren’t going to let that linger.

Surprisingly, the group quickly dispersed after the awkward meeting.

Wrecker headed off to find Omega and grab some grub and Hunter wanted to do a routine check of the Marauder, leaving you, Echo, and Tech lingering in the common area. Echo gave you a relieved smile and a nod before he too left, leaving you with time to address Tech.

Tech had stayed behind under the guise of fixing the equipment but the careful avoidance of your gaze didn't go unnoticed. Seizing the moment for a much-needed conversation, you approached him with a deliberate calmness, hoping to bridge the growing gap between you.

"Tech?" you started, your voice softer than usual.

He paused, tools in hand, and finally met your eyes. The usual spark of curiosity was there, but it was overshadowed by a hesitance that hadn't been there before. "Yes?" he responded, his tone neutral yet guarded.

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words to navigate the delicate situation. “I’m sorry I never told you. We always wanted to leave it in the past.” You sighed. “I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

Tech processed your words, the rigid lines of his posture softening. He set his tools down, giving you his full attention now. “If you are implying I would think less of you, that is not the case.” His mouth twitched to the side, his face still masked in neutrality he hesitantly continued. “However, it certainly makes adapting to our new dynamics more… complicated for me.”

Your confused expression prompted him to explain further, “Historically, the thought of your involvement with others was an… unenjoyable experience for me.” His back straightened and something passed through his brown eyes. “At present, I find myself challenged by the desire to offer you more preferable and memorable alternatives."

For the first time in almost a year, heat flared in your chest. You’d forgotten how intense Tech’s attention was. He’d hinted at jealousy in the past. But that short exchange made you wish he’d found out about your history with Echo much earlier.

You took a casual step forward. “I’d like to see what that brain of yours thinks up.”

Tech’s eyes widened for a moment, flitting to the door and back to you.. “I’ve already thought of multiple scenarios I believe you’d find suitable.”

“Are any of them suitable for a limited timeframe?”

His head tilted and, for the first time since your reunion, he gave you his braggadocious grin. “Precisely three.”

#honestly i love them #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch #tbb #my writing #tech #tbb tech #the bad batch tech #bad batch #star wars #tech x reader #echo x reader #the bad batch echo x reader #the bad batch tech x reader #hunter the bad batch #the bad batch echo #hunter x reader #hunter the bad batch x reader

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strawberry-crocodile · 14 days

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TMA? TME? What's that?

This is a question I get a lot on my posts talking about transfeminism; I intend to make this a masterpost with which to send people if they are genuinely curious.

What does TME/TMA mean?

TME- Transmisogyny Exempt

TMA- Transmisogyny Affected

More specifically, TMA is a catchall term for people whose experience being assigned male and transitioning to a feminine gender or presentation has made them the focus and primary target of transmisogyny. TME people are everyone else.

But isn't everyone affected by transmisogyny in some way?

In some way, yes. But TMA people are, by definition, the ones who are the primary target, and the ones who cannot escape it. A trangender man might be mistaken for a trans woman on the street and accosted, yes! However, his interactions with family, the legal system, other queer people, and any partners are going to be affected by transphobia, but not transmisogyny, because these people see him as outside the "MtF" category. This is the core of transmisogyny and why transmisogyny as a term exists separate from transphobia.

Why not use transfeminine/transmasculine?

Where I'm standing I'd like to be able to use those words with the rough understanding that they are related to one's relationship to assigned gender and transmisogyny, but there are people who do not feel that this adequately describes their identity (ie transfem people who were AFAB). I'm taking these people on good faith, but I still want to be able to discuss what TME/TMA is discussing.

Isn't this just reinventing the gender binary?

It's describing a preexisting one. The White/POC dichotomy is not "reinventing race science", it's describing how the society built on that lie affects people. Someone who uses the word "nonblack" probably knows that racial categories are artificial, but is still affected by anti-black racism, and deserves the language to talk about it. Understand TME/TMA the same way.

Also, to be clear, cisgender men are TME. It is not just restating your AGAB.

What about intersex AFAB people?

This is where I am going to bow my head and admit that I do not know, exactly. It's undeniable that there are similarities in the bodies of TMA people and a cis woman with PCOS, just for example, and that the hatred that such bodies attract are going to affect her. However, it's also true that having been assigned, raised, and legally defined as a "female" is going to provide a different set of problems. If someone wants to have a genuine discuss about this, my ask box and messages are open- however, if you are not yourself AFAB and intersex, I do not care your opinion on the matter.

If it has so many problems, why use it?

Every term used to discuss marginalization has problems. "White", for example, is a category that can include or exclude Ashkenazi jewish people depending on context and usage; the border between cis and trans is one that has edge cases. But these terms are important for describing oppression and helping marginalized people! It would be absurd to completely abolish them, wouldn't it? It's the same with TME/TMA.

I fundamentally disagree that this category of people you're talking about deserve or need a word to describe their oppression, or that they have a unique relationship to that oppression.

Well. You're wrong, so

#tme/tma #transmisogyny #tme ppl #dalucaray #tme/tma guide #tme/tma reference

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sim0nril3y · 8 months

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Push and Pull - Part 2

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: Simon just can't seem to get you off his mind following the abrupt end to 'Push and Pull' Note: Set in 2014 Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), mild angst, reconnection, joking about kidnapping a dog, Simon being his usual guarded self, canon-typical swearing

It had been a long couple weeks since your last interaction with Simon. In your head you understood that you were being a little sensitive that he hadn’t wanted something more with you, but there was another part of you that couldn’t help but feel used… You wondered, if he hadn’t wanted anything more serious then why had he strung you along so romantically? If he wanted sex and intimacy then why be so adverse to it in the beginning? Why not just sleep with you that first night and keep all emotions out of it?

“So, what happened to that bloke you were seeing?” Your friends voice broke through your fuzzy mind. It was a moving out party for one of her colleagues that was heading North. It wasn’t like you had even wanted to be here anyway, but she had convinced you it would be a good time with a bunch of booze – that promise was enough to get you into a nice dress and off your sofa watching re-runs of ‘Come Dine with Me’. “You seemed really into him…”

Yeah, you had been really into him, but… it clearly wasn’t meant to be. “Yeah. I think we were just both looking for different things.” You really didn’t need to spell it out for her to understand. An almost sympathetic look pulled across her face before she clinked her beer bottle against your own. “His loss, babe. I’ll go get us another couple of drinks.”

It was part hurt and part relief that there had been no communication within the past couple of weeks. He really hadn’t meant to make you feel like he was just using you, but maybe this way you might be able to move on and find someone that would be able to give you more than he was able to. Simon really hadn’t the thought of you being with someone else. He hated thinking about you teasing and laughing with them. He hated thinking about you on your knees for them. He hated thinking about your mind being consumed by them. It was for the best. Deep down he knew that he wasn’t built for love or affection. No, everything around him was death and destruction and he’d be damned if he was going to inflict that on you too.

As he sat watching the football highlights his eyes caught a glimmer of something beneath the coffee table. Leaning down he plucked up the small piece of jewellery in his hands and inspected it. He recognised this ring, it belonged to you. Just put it back. Fuckin’ throw it out. It’s junk jewellery. Even with his cruel inner monologue trying to warn him off Simon still rang your number. It rang and rang and rang. For a moment he thought that maybe you weren’t going to answer.

“H-hold on-” Your voice came down the line. There was mixture of music and voice down the speakers that told Simon you were out at the moment. Of course, you were… “Hello?” You asked as you finally got to place that gave you a little bit of peace. “I have something that belongs to you…”

There was a beat of silence before you muttered back. “You sound like a supervillain.” You should have been angry with him, but there was humour that laced your voice. “Do you have my dog or something?” Simon begrudged himself as he laughed lowly before responding. “Bloody hell, you really must think I’m a monster if you think I’ve kidnapped your dog…” It was just so easy to have this banter with you, like no time had passed at all, or there hadn’t been any hurt between you.

“Well, I’ll be a little concerned because I don’t actually have a dog…” You responded with a small laugh and he groaned as he covered his face with his hand. “Why would you be worried that I’d kidnap your dog if you don’t have one?” Trying to figure out your brain was like trying to solve a very intricate puzzle, but the moment your laughter lilted down the line Simon found himself smiling. He’d missed it. He’d missed you. “It’s actually a ring I found… it doesn’t seem my style so it must belong to you.” He mentioned observing the small band in his fingers.

For a moment you were quiet before stating. “It might belong to one of the other girls you’ve brought back to your flat…” There was jealousy linger there, along with hurt that hurt his heart. “I don’t bring other girls back to my flat.” Only you, he wanted to add but the words never formed in his mouth. “Do you think… can I bring it to you?” He questioned with a crease forming in his brow. There was a part of you that had wanted to deny him, but… another part… a more needy and affection part spoke first and louder. “I’m at a party… but sure. I’ll send you the address.” He could hear the way that you attempted to be nonchalant but there was there affection there.

It didn’t take long for Simon to leave once she sent him the address and honestly it wasn’t hard to find the house as he drove down the road. Each other house was quiet, curtains closed and dead to the world, but the one he pulled up outside of was lively, music pumping from inside and people filtering in and out. By the brick fence his eyes spotted you, lingered there looking at your phone as if you were trying to keep yourself busy, or at least look as if you were for when he arrived.

Climbing from his car he approached and you glanced up. “That didn’t take long…” You noted and then looked him up and down. “So, do you have my ring, or…” “Bollocks. I left it in the car…” He cursed softly. “Do you wanna come get it?” He asked and you eyed him suspiciously before wandering over and climbing into the passenger seat. Just like you imagined his car was just as organised as his house, there wasn’t an item out of place and it smelt like fresh pine. He climbed into the driver’s seat beside you and collected the ring from the centre console and placed it into your open hand.

“Thanks…” You hummed quietly twirling it around your fingers before sliding it on, the whole time keeping your eyes trained on it. “I think I owe you an apology…” Simon began and you looked at him. “Don’t be silly. We were just having fun, right?” He saw the way your smile pulled into a fake smile, trying to act easy-going but he saw through it right away. “Listen, I still don’t think I have a good answer for your question… what were we doing? Fuck knows, all I knew was that… that you…” He looked direction at you, intense eyes setting you completely still. “You have pushed me and challenged me and fucking terrified me more than anyone has for…” He really had to think. “Forever.”

“I’ve never known anyone like you.” He mentioned rubbing his face softly. “Is that a bad thing?” You asked then a look of concern set on your face. “No… No, it isn’t… I’m just… trying to figure out how to deal with all this.” He frowned. “This isn’t easy for me and I know that me being like this doesn’t make it easy for you either…”

A frown set on your face, twirling your ring again slowly before looking at him. “I told you from the beginning at your pace…” Then looking at him. “I just wanted something… just a little something to try and tell me I was on the right path… or that I hadn’t ruined everything…” Reaching across Simon took your hand, squeezing it so gently. “You didn’t ruin anything.” Then bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss your knuckles sweetly. “I wanna take you out again… if you’ll let me…”

There was a beat of silence between you both then and Simon wondered for a moment if maybe you’d decline. “Okay…” You said, softly and sweetly before tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Okay.” He responded with a small smile finding his lips. “I won’t fuck this up.” “You won’t.” You agreed softly as he brought your hand up to press a kiss to his knuckles.

Masterlist | Ask | 03-09-2023

#simon riley x oc #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x oc #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x you #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon riley cod #simon riley smut #simon riley x y/n #ghost #ghost smut #ghost angst #ghost x y/n #ghost x you

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loverofmirage · 5 months

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It's unfortunate how anti-npd stigma makes it hard to have nuanced discussions on the way the disorder affects relationships.

I'm not a mustache-twirling villain with a secret plot to abuse the poor empaths, but my symptoms of NPD do put an immense strain on my relationships.

Strong healthy relationships (of any type) are built on emotional reciprocity, something which low-empathy, egocentrism, defensiveness, grandiosity and a (maladaptive) transactional approach to human interactions all erode.

#npd #cluster b #actually cluster b #actually npd #narcissistic personality disorder #actually narcissistic

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silassinclair · 25 days

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Yandere Ghost x Reader

CW// NSFW (MINORS DNI WITH PART OF THIS POST), Dub-Con, Obsessive Behavior, Masturbation, Stalking, Mentions of Murder, Religion, Somnophilia

Introduction here for more context

Masterlist

When you spoke to Dante for the first time he felt more alive than when he was living.

You could see him. For the first time in centuries someone could see him. He could finally interact with somebody.

“Y-You can see me?”

He could never let you go now. No… this must be fate. God brought you to him! The Lord denied him access to the heavens and sent you instead!

Well, now you have a ghost following you around your own home 24/7. Tell him to leave you alone and he’ll just whine and beg for you to let him be in the same vicinity as you.

“Dante please leave me alone. I’m trying to write.”

“Amore mio, my love, please let me stay. I promise I won’t disturb you. Just let me be in your presence.”

The perks of being a ghost means Dante can choose whether to phase through objects or touch them.

Meaning he can touch you.

You’re so warm. It’s been so long since he’s felt such warmth. You’re the sun in his new life. Yes, he sees his death as life now thanks to you.

“Dante your hands are freezing!”

“I’m sorry dearest but I can’t control it. I’m a ghost after all.”

“Could you maybe not touch me then while I’m trying to work then?”

“:,(“

He’s madly in love with you, obsessed with you, and would die again for you. He prays that you feel the same way for him. But you’re just so dense towards his advancements!

“I would die a thousand deaths for you amore.”

“Please don’t do that, dying once should be enough for you.”

He cannot blame you though, no no you’re a doll! Absolutely adorable. Nothing is ever his amore’s fault.

Dante blames himself. When he was alive he could have any woman he wanted. But that was when he could show his gorgeous face. Now, he has a Venetian mask permanently attached to his face because it was what he last wore when he died during the party. If only he could take it off and show you how flawless he is.

“Dante, why do you wear that mask?”

“It was what I wore when I died, along with what I am wearing now. I… cannot take any of it off.”

“How come?”

“I don’t know mi amor but I wish I could show you my face.”

“Are you handsome?”

“Oh I’m absolutely ravishing. You’d fall in love with me immediately.”

Physical affection is his love language and not being able to kiss you is as painful as dying to him.

Your lips are so soft and it breaks his heart being unable to feel them on his.

So instead he’ll trace the lips of his porcelain mask along your neck while you sleep. He’ll touch your body while you’re vulnerable and asleep.

“I wish I could feel you… I want all of you.”

You notice some of your things start to go missing. Your bat necklace, blood red lingerie, and even a pair of your panties. It was weird. It wasn’t like you traveled and lost your things, you were always home after all.

The only room you cannot access is the attic. Dante says that it’s his private area so you respect his privacy. This was his home originally after all.

But you have no clue that he has put together a shrine dedicated to you in the attic. All of your missing things are in their respective spots in the shrine built in your name.

“If I pray hard enough will you give yourself to me as I have given myself to you?”

He’s a religious man. He believes in God and was raised Catholic. Dante prays every night, begging the lord for you to love him back.

Dante can’t stand it when you leave the manor!

He makes up many excuses for you to stay. He needs you! You’re his life! Yes you work from home and are home 90% of the time but he can’t stand seeing you go even for a second!

“Amore mio please don’t go! You have everything you need here. You still have milk in the refrigerator.”

“But I’m running out of eggs..”

“That is no problem my dear. There are many recipes you can make without eggs. I have my Mother’s cookbook somewhere. How about we try and make something together?”

“Oh that sounds cool.”

Adores your aloof personality. You don’t mind it when he cuddles you at all! Plus your smiles are rare so it makes him all the more merrier when he sees you smile. He thinks of your smile like a shooting star. Rare and more beautiful than any other star in the sky.

But he does wonder where your attitude came from. You don’t like to talk about your life before you came to the manor. The ghost wanted to know if there were any previous suitors. He has tried to pry once but you became angry. He never pried again.

“What was your life like before you came here? Any… special someones?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it Dante..”

“So was there someone?”

“Just be quiet about it already! Stop being so damn nosy and mind your own business!”

Cried for the rest of the day after that. He hates seeing you anything other than your neutral or happy self.

His green eyes glisten with tears when you apologize to him. They peer at you from the dark holes of his mask.

“Sorry I snapped at you… Who I was with in my past is a sensitive subject and I don’t like talking about him.”

“Was he a bad man? Did he hurt you amore?”

“Badly…”

He wants to kill him. As soon as he heard you say that one word he had the bloodthirsty urge to kill. It’s a sin but… but whatever. It’s for you.

Anything for you.

NSFW ONWARD, MINORS DO NOT TRESSPASS

Can’t resist you any longer. But… He doesn’t want to scare you off.

Dante wants to fuck you so badly. He’d treat you so so right! He already kisses the ground you walk on.

But he’s afraid of rejection. If you leave then it’s over. Once you’re off The Verona Manor property he cannot chase after you.

Dante may be a depraved animal for you but he’s still a gentleman. He wants you to fall in love with him as all couples in love do.

But you’re taking too long. Would you be mad if he just so happened to slip into you in your sleep? Your s/c thighs are so tempting in those lewd little shorts that hide little to nothing.

“J-Just the tip… Just a little bit.”

Slides your shorts down slowly. He watches your expression carefully, green eyes gaze piercingly at your resting face. If you just so much as whimper he’ll freeze and continue once you’re relaxed again.

Once your shorts are down to your knees he practically drools at the sight of your lace panties.

“Amore mio, did you wear these just for me? You knew I’d do this huh? Such a vixen you are.”

Massages your clothed clit with his leather bound gloved fingertips. Rubs soothing circles into you that make you squirm where you lay helplessly.

Stares at your dripping cunny like a desperate, thirsty animal who has found an oasis in a desert. He wants to lick up your slick so badly. But that damned mask is in his way.

His fingers will have to do.

Your pussy flutters around his fingers as he gently eases your hole. He doesn’t want you waking up with his dick in you after all. He needs you to get used to the feeling. You haven’t had sex in so long, you may was well be a virgin!

Dante’s dick leaks pre at the thought of taking your virginity. He knows you aren’t, you have had past partners. But he wants to imagine.

Just for tonight.

He tugs his pants down, his erect cock slaps against his tummy. The tip is red and angry, begging to be put into your sweet little cunt.

“A-Ah~ Mmggph… W-Wish you were awake s-so I could hear your pretty little moans~ I know they would sound so pretty from your lips m-mi amor-“

Whispers dirty little things into the night as he fucks your tight little hole slowly and gently.

Even when asleep you’re dripping wet for him. Your unconscious arousal turns Dante on like a light switch. But he has to maintain control.

Just the tip after all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #x reader #yandere imagines #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #obsession #dante verona #yandere ghost #yandere ghost x reader

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alastorswifee · 1 year

Text

༆ 𝓜𝓸𝓿𝓲𝓮!𝓛𝓵𝓸𝔂𝓭 𝓐𝓤

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd being so nervous when he first started dating you, he’s so used to people not wanting to be around him due to his father’s bad reputation

The only people he’s interacted comfortably with are the other ninja but that’s only in a best friend/sibling aspect

When Nya found out about Lloyd’s feelings for you, she encouraged him to be himself and make his move before someone else does

It took the green ninja a good few days before he built up the courage to do it but here he was

He showed up to your locker one morning and told you that you looked really pretty, one thing led to another and that led to you two eating lunch together

Then it became an everyday habit, him always greeting you by the lockers then planning to have lunch together

Soon his confidence got a bit higher than in the beginning but that’s only because he’s gotten to know the kind of person you are and he got comfortable around you

Soon enough he planned a way to ask you out and to his relief and surprise, you said yes

Now you two are a cute little couple

༆Boyfriend!Lloyd bringing you flowers(if you’re allergic then he’ll bring fake/plastic flowers) every week or two as one of his ways of showing you affection

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd walking you to all your classes no matter what you say, he always insists that it’s no trouble at all

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd always aiming to kiss your cheek or forehead because he’s too shy to kiss you on your lips at first

He eventually mans up one day tho don’t worry, with some encouragement from the group

He was hanging out with you after school and as usual, he walked you home to make sure you’re safe. This time tho, instead of kissing your cheek before you head inside, he cupped your cheek which made you look at him with curiosity.

He’d slowly lean down and whisper “can I kiss you?..”

How could you say no?

That’s how you two had your first kiss

Ever since then, he would always want to kiss you, not in overly public places tho because he can get a bit shy with pda

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd introducing you to Koko a month or two into the relationship, he figured that if he’s going to do something as big as dating he might as well let his mother know

She’s thrilled to hear that a girl loves and cares about her son, she invites you to have dinner with them some day and gave you the privilege of getting to call her mum(only if you’re comfortable ofc)

The other Ninja obviously know about you but haven’t properly met you yet. When they did, some of them did the overprotective friend act at first to jokingly scare you but they warmed up to you pretty quickly when they saw how happy you made Lloyd.

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd would invite you to stay the night on weekends if you’re allowed to and if his mum says yes which she most likely will allow

Those little sleepovers will consist of lots of cuddles and kisses

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd has a secret love for baking, from time to time he’ll bake you some sweets such as cupcakes, donuts, macaroons, cookies and more

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd is a very understanding and caring person, if anything’s going on please tell him. The poor baby will get worried sick if you’re being distant or any of your behavior changes

If you need space or time then tell him because worrying him isn’t the best decision

Communication is a huge thing for him, if you can’t tell him what’s going on then it will cause a huge problem because he’ll start worrying and stressing as well as overthinking.

If you’re alright with him helping you through whatever is bothering you, he’ll do everything in his power to try and help you get better and support you.

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd stays up late on some nights because you’re on his mind so that results in him making you playlists with songs that remind him of you or with your music taste

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd being pouty whenever you don’t give him a kiss or you tease him affection wise, he’ll follow you around like a lost puppy until you give him a kiss or anything

༆Boyfriend!Lloyd going on patrol sometimes at night as the green ninja and uses that as an excuse to drop by your bedroom balcony to say hi

Sometimes if you’re okay with it he takes you on nighttime rides in his dragon mech

He’ll show you all the beautiful city lights from a brand new perspective and view. The look of happiness and wonder in your eyes making him fall in love with you all over again

༆ Boyfriend!Lloyd and you relaxing in his mech as he had let it sit ontop one of the tallest buildings in ninjago city.

You both talk about your future while stargazing, Lloyd honestly didn’t think he’d find someone such as yourself but here you are proving him wrong.

He doesn’t wanna get older without your head on his shoulder.

He wishes time could move slower when he’s with you, he cherishes every living second he has with you.

He knows you’re the person he wants to grow old with and be with forever.

And if reincarnation exists..

He hopes to find you in every lifetime.

@kitomon eat this while I try to get rid of writers block

#ninjago lloyd #lloyd ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago #the lego ninjago movie #lloyd garmadon #ninjago x reader #lloyd x reader #lloyd garmadon x reader

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 months

Text

Pretty Eyes (2)

summary - you and daryl have reverted to your original positions, however your divide in getting along isn’t only affecting the two of you. it’s endangering the group, and so when needs must, you have to reconcile and make a truce (2.2k)

warnings - 18+ mdni, mentions of sex and slight mention of drugs, mentions of death, mentions of domestic abuse, silent treatment, swearing, slight angst, trust issues

a/n - i am aware that I said there would be smut in this part, however i liked the way this turned out. dw there will be a part 3! i’m really enjoying writing this, it’s my favourite mini series i’ve written so far

part one / daryl dixon works / main masterlist

His gaze avoided any direction that you were in, and you could tell that any soft interaction that you had shared was obsolete in his damned brain. It was possible that that the alarms instigating a departure from the CDC was a good thing, as then you didn’t make a mistake by sharing a tousled bedspread with the youngest Dixon.

You had remembered in the state of needing to survive, that he didn’t care about you, and vice versa, and the only reason you had almost allowed him to fuck you was out of celebration for thinking that you were safe from the dawning aspects of the hungry wilderness. The booze hadn’t helped either, and that to have found yourself in those circumstances, that you had probably drank too much.

Any time you were involved in a conversation, he would talk right past you, as though you weren’t even there at all. You weren’t stupid, you could recognise regret even if wasn’t right before your eyes, and Daryl felt it, and what for? Because he almost exposed the slither of vulnerability with you?

Despite finding him to be a ridicule in his amenity of ignoring you, you didn’t see him as weak, he was one of the reasons that you had made it to the Greene farm after Carl had been shot, aiming for the same deer as the man who had held the gun. Otis, that was his name. He had felt responsible before he died, but Hershel, the eldest and father of the family, saw you as a herd of burdens on his land, but you could only see one, and it was walking straight towards you, his foot falls being wide and ebbed with integral emotion.

It wasn’t Daryl, rather it was Shane, which was unsurprising as the redneck appeared to prefer steering clear of you entirely. His face was filled with spiced annoyance, and it made you realise that he was not walking to converse with you of his own free will, Rick, the sheriff whom had shifted everything, had sent him over to you.

The two of you had held mutual respect for one another, or at least you had back at the camp that was located in Atlanta. He had appreciated that you were willing to speak out against the arrogance of the Dixons, as not many people could find the confidence in themselves to do so, other than himself of course, for which he prided himself on.

He saw himself as a man, but you could see the averted change to his person, he had become slippery with a jurisdiction to pursue everyone as an enemy, and worst of all, lie blankly to the faces of those that surrounded him. Otis died in vain, you knew that, and for what? So Shane could get a head start in recalling his stature to safety, that was why.

He was selfish, and his slope of goodness was crumbling, the world had gotten to him; not everyone was built for the end of it, it was a frame of mind that kept you going, and more importantly helped you to stay alive. His was almost gone, vanished as his brain became plagued with the mindset that he knew what was best for your people.

It was humorous to think that he still saw himself as the leader, he’d had that position swept out from beneath his feet, unknowingly at first, by none other than his best friend. It was a betrayal in his looking and dark eyes, however it had come full circle, because as much as you’d have preferred to have stay a foot away from their business, it was evident that they harboured emotions towards the same woman.

Finally, as you patiently awaited for the brute before you to speak, you could see the slither of the archer’s silhouette within the corner of your eye, returning from his search to uncover the whereabouts of Sophia, whom had ran into the woods alone, and never came out. “Spit it out, I haven’t got all day Shane.” You sighed, refocusing your attention on him rather than Daryl, who once again ignored your presence.

“Rick wants you to get along with Daryl.” He was blunt, as though he was reciting a written speech that he had prepared for him, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if that had been the case. “It’s causing problems for the group, you’re a reasonable woman, so I’m sure you can understand.” You cocked your brow at his rehearsed lines, crossing your arms expectedly as you smirked, penetrating the large man with your stone like glare.

“I can understand that you’re all too scared to pull Daryl up on this, but he’s the one that’s not speaking so much as a word to me. It’s not a problem to me that I’m getting the silent treatment, so how come it is for you lot?” It hurt your feelings a little, sure, but in all honesty it was the least of your problems, one if provoked was stood right in front of you, attempting to rationalise the childlike behaviour that you were being given by the surly archer.

Shane huffed diligently, rolling his irises around in the whites of his eyes, unamused by the ignorance that he decided you held on the situation. He didn’t like the red neck either, he never had, but against his judgement he was here, being the messenger to resolve the petty exchange, or lack of, that you and Daryl were berating one another with. This wasn’t the camp that he had founded anymore, you had all left the gory scene, and those of you that had survived had experienced worse than you had ever imagined.

People were dead, and whilst a particular man in the afterlife had deserved the horror that had unexpectedly struck him, they had lost others than just Ed. You had watched, in the midst of trying to defend yourselves those that you had found along the way were destined to be nothing short of a feast for the undead. And you were a fighter, a good one at that, Shane could tell by how you effortlessly made the walkers fall with a plummeting of a sharp object to the location of their brains.

“Because…” the man whom had once been in military trailed off, feeling thus more controlled by Rick than he was with him in command before the outbreak, “we all need to get along, there’s nothing else that’s keeping us together than simply being alive. And if push comes to shove,” which it would, Shane thought to himself, “you and Daryl are going to have to work together.” He trusted Daryl the least, but if he could get you to understand that your skills were necessary, and that you had to communicate with the handler of the crossbow, then there would be less chance of a problem aspiring from him.

Daryl had a problem, in Shane’s eyes, and that was believing that the little girl was still alive in the depths of the woods, going so far as convincing Carol that he would find her. Shane needed you to be exactly how you were back at the camp, he thought ironically it was due to the eldest Dixon’s absence as to why you were leashing yourself from calling out any bullshit, you felt bad. You pitied the man in your own way, but that wasn’t it. He was ignoring you solely not for the reason for how you had previously spoken to Merle, it was because he had missed the opportunity of getting his dick wet.

Just the thought caused you to swell with anger, it was so typical for him to blame you for the intrusion, rather than the bleating emergency that upheld you with the threat of impending slaughter. But you had gotten out, escaped the narrow destruction that would have taken you with it, and because of it, Daryl saw you as nothing more than one of the trees, stood around them, and acting as nothing other than a distraction.

“Fine. If it’ll get you to stop berating me, I’ll talk to him right now.” You weren’t ready to, you thought in solitary, however you had never been one to back down from a challenge, even if your pride was being held by a thread. There was no cause for you to feel nervous when it involved Daryl, nothing had happened. So you couldn’t understand why as you stalked in the direction of the lone wolf, the reason your heart was berating an echo within your ear drums, and the purpose as to why your hands sweltered and grew nervously clammy.

It wasn’t a big deal. None of it was, other than continuing to live another day as it came, and speaking to Daryl wouldn’t kill you, only wound your pride a little. His spectre of a physique was within your peripheral, he was sat with a vast lack of company upon an astray log, dwindling his fingers together, holding a glinting knife between them. It was understandable that he was deterred from much to do, you felt the same, you were inhabiting the indefinite peace whilst it lasted.

The air stung you as you awaited for your own dialogue to slice through and disturb the lack of bouldering tension the hunter was distributing. He was slightly tense, but that was all, which was understandable considering that his task continued to be unresolved. “I believe you, y’know.” Your mouth felt irritatingly dry as the words ushered from your vocal cords, provoking the attention of the man whom had long since previously had you pinned vulnerably beneath his aroused body. Well it hadn’t been much time since then, but it definitely felt that way. “With Sophia being out there I mean.”

It wasn’t a fleeting battle when there was a child scarcely all alone in the threatening triumphs of the unknown, more so one that had travelled so far with you. Daryl could only scoff, biting back a retort in your direction, clearly disgruntled and unmelted by your peace offering of conversation. “Makes you the only one then.” He stated, convinced with the untested fate of Sophia, his jaw clenching at the unimaginable that may have unravelled without the fruits of knowledge.

“Is that so bad, that I believe you? That I trust you?” Trust was never something you would have once conferred with the name Dixon, but the man had proven himself despite his howling arrogance towards you that he could survive this, and have your back all the same. Without leaning on one another, none of you would have made it this far, and if this was the end, that you would possibly die on the road after Hershel gave you the boot, then you felt the desire to voice your prevailing emotions, rather than act impulsively on the unquenchable nature of lust.

“Ya don’ trus’ me, yer jus’ bein’ stupid.” His accent rang thick as he relished in his frugal spite of allowing a single soul close to him, it was his greatest fear, and he was full with an appetite of pushing you further and further away. Or perhaps he didn’t keen in your direction, you were a stiletto in his foot, pressing the sharp heel into his border of preferred personal space. He wanted you gone, to be notarised by each person in your travelling camp to be left be, especially you. He stepped unwillingly closer, hoping that the decrease in distance would make you flee from his eyesight.

“You’re right I was being stupid, when I was just seconds away from letting you fuck me.” He forced himself not to meet your eyes that were speaking a different story than your mouth, yearning to be accepted within his small list of those he cared for. They were alluring, a drug that he couldn’t quite get a fix of, splicing deeper into him than the arrow had. “And to think, you said I had pretty eyes…” You teased narrowly, slyly rolling them as you glared at him, surprisingly without judgement. “We didn’t do anything, and it meant nothing, so I propose we make amends so we can both get on with the shit surrounding our lives.”

“Make amen’s, I don’t want to make anythin’, ‘cept be left alone.” He huffed sparingly, whipping around to walk away and back to his own self-induced confinement, but you didn’t let him. You couldn’t. With defiance you grabbed his wrist, enabling him to turn around, and you felt a shiver run through your veins. It was like your blood vessels were bursting with contagious sparks, adrenaline coursing through every bone in your body, as you lowly looked up at him, finally making direct eye contact. “Fuck it.”

He hissed, ignoring the hand of yours that was attached to his wrist, and within seconds his hands were harshly cradling your face, his lips pressed hungrily upon your own. It made you forget the devastation of life in which was poisoning the world, and convinced you that you were unknowingly trapped in the CDC once again, celebrating something rather than berating any figment of emotion that crossed your minds. You never wanted to stop sharing your laboured breaths as your lips refused to detach, and Daryl had no intention of doing so as his hands gravitated towards your waist, pulling the entirety of your body closer.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #norman reedus x reader #norman reedus imagine #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n #the walking dead x reader

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writting-for-a-chain-of-heros · 2 months

Note

I have to ask the question of:

Cuddle headcanons you can pick the links.

Cuddling with Time,Hyrule and Legend

Hyrule

He is the worst cuddler you'll ever meet in your life

This man doesn't know how to cuddle

PLZ SEND HELP

He's never had much positive physical interactions and he's socially stunted due to his isolating environment

When the closest thing you've had to cuddling were cult members holding you down trying to sacrifice you for their leader, you tend to not be all that great with touching in general.

This guy is awkward as awkward gets with just hand holding let alone cuddling

He'll be stiff as a board just kinda laying there letting you do your thing when you first try to cuddle him

He doesn't know what to do with his hands so he keeps them at the side but he'll occasionally bring them up to give you a few pats.

.......

It's completely awkward and silent

It feels like your hugging a manikin more than cuddling with a person

He's just looking straight up while you're laying on top of him & he's just trying he's hardest to learn to relax into it but he's just not.

He just isn't, I am sorry

He'll start overthinking the whole time he's trying to figure out how to do it

He might be sweating a bit

Oh hylia, is he sweating?

Is he supposed to sweat?

Is that normal during cuddles?

But it's only been 1 minute 30 seconds in, oh shit does he smell now? I mean he always kinda smells but he doesn't want to be THAT smelly, wait what if you're just putting up with his bad BO this whole time and you're suffocating now

Wait no he took a bath in the creek two hours ago or was it two weeks ago?? Oh hylia suddenly he can't remember??

Wait, is he suffocating you? What if you're already passed out? Why aren't you moving? Why aren't you making any noise?? Hold on, is it supposed to be this awkward? Is it supposed to be this quiet??? Can people die from bad BO?Maybe he should just end thi-

And then he feels you shift in your position and suddenly you're both on your sides as you guide his arms around your shoulders then moved yours to wrap around his abdomen

Oh this is different

And suddenly he relaxes a bit and leans in with his chin resting on the top of your head

This isn't so bad

As he breathes in inhaling your scent he allows his arms to wrap around you gently

“I'm not suffocating you right?” He asks

“no, you're not” you tell him as you lean in closer to him snuggling into his arms

“You smell nice by the way” you whisper to him

His body goes laxed into your embrace as a small smile creeps up on his face

It'll take him a while to get use to this but if you're patient enough he'll get there

…

......

...........

Eventually

Legend

Absolutely not

He doesn't do cuddles

He doesn't do hugs or any touchy feely stuff with anyone really

Don't even think about touching him if he doesn't know you or you aren't close and even then that's still a shot in the dark to even think he'll open up to the idea of cuddles

He used to be a lot more open about physical affection in the past before life beat him into being a prickly jerk, but now? You'll have to catch him dead before he's shown being sugary sweet to anyone in a 100yrd radius

You would have to be someone who's REALLY special to legend or a very young child since he has a soft spot for kids but even then that's still a maybe

It's not that he doesn't want to be affectionate it's just he has his own way of showing he cares without getting mushy & that usually involves sarcastic comments or witty banter

A lot of nudges with his elbow, an arm over your neck & shoulders,some pats on the back or maybe a slight playful punch is what you're really all going to get out of Legend

He's built up a big hardened shell around him & physical intimacy just kinda breaks it all down leaving him exposed

He doesn't like feeling vulnerable and exposed

So he avoids it like the plague

He sees his vulnerability as a weakness and is disgusted by it to the core so he stuffs it away where no one can find it

But he's a complete tsundere & secretly wants it but at the same time doesn't want to get it

So if you want to cuddle with him you'll have to be someone he feels he can trust with everything that he is

You're going to have to slowly build you're way up before you start cuddling with him

You start off with hand brushes, light shoulder pats, a hand on his forearm when your leading him somewhere

Move your hands down to holding his fingers,not exactly holding his hand but the touch is enough get him use to your hold before moving to hold his palms then the next thing you know you're holding hands with legend without much protest

You'll have to keep up that steady rhythm before you get to the cuddling stage

All while this is happening he lets you do it & he doesn't realize just how touch starved he is for more

He's a bit stiff and awkward once you do cuddle for the first time, he's not as bad as Hyrule but it's been a LOOOONG time since he's been this intimate with anyone in years.

He'll be tense at first but after a few minutes he leans into it as you both hold each other close while cuddling

His face might blush a bit at how close you're being but he's absolutely smiling softly like an idiot during the whole ordeal

Don't make fun or tease him about it if this is your first because he WILL get up & leave

Don't test him

I am serious

It feels soft & warm while your holding him

His head is resting on your chest listening to your heartbeat as you play with his hair

His eyes lull a bit and he feels at peace, like he's relaxing a muscle he's been tensing this entire time.

“I'll kill you if you tell anyone about this” he says but his soft tone of speaking betrays his attempt at sounding threatening

All you do is give a slight hum of agreement to him not paying any mind as you continue to stroke his hair by the fire at the cabin inn.

Time

It's uncomfortably comfortable when your cuddling with Time with his armor

Despite the cold metallic pokes against your skin as you’re resting against his chest this wasn't all that bad

Time a pretty reserved person when it comes to physical affection which only gets shown to people he sees as family or mange to warm their way into his heart

You’d have to be someone really high on his list of love ones to get accesses to cuddle privileges from

He usually tends to keep his arms to himself with only a small burst of physical affection occasionally when the moment called for it and even then it's limited to a select few

He’s not as rigid or stiff as you’d expect him to be due to his stoic demeanor while cuddling

In fact he's actually surprisingly good at this whole cuddling business then maybe even you

He grew up in a forest full of children and Malon where hugging and cuddling was very the norm

Despite his dark past and somewhat limited experience with affection he’s still always been someone who’s had a knack for being comforting when the moment is needed

When he takes his armor off the cuddling experience gose from a 6/10 to a 100/10

But you only get Time without his armor cuddles at night,early mornings or when your resting in a town

If you want cuddles suddenly throughout the day you’re going to have to deal with cold edgy metal against your face, Hylia forbid the summer sun hits and the metal is burning against your skin

If anyone at all tries to make any snide remarks about your cuddling he’s shutting it down in half a second

It will be a cold day in hell before he allows someone to embarrass you or him out of your special time together

He can be a bit goofy while cuddling,it's the only few times he’s got his guard down and just relaxes

He’ll poke and tickle your sides to make you laugh, this sometimes devolves from cuddling into a semi wrestling tickle fight

If your someone he’s got a bit of a romantic interest in, he’ll sometimes lightly blow a breath behind your ear and tease you a bit to get you flustered but won't go too far if he’s making you uncomfortable

After all he’s a menace not a creep

He’ll rub small circles on your lower and upper back while your resting your head against his chest

You'll feel his strong fingers press into the knots and a few satisfying pops can be heard

He does this throughout your spine & you feel your muscles ease against his touches

It doesn't matter how long the cuddle session is or how in shape you are, as soon as it's over your back always feels 10x better than it did before you came

You swear he’s using magic but it's just a few tricks he’s learned in his travels to help with his own back issues

His favorite positions are any where he has you under him or against his chest

He likes the feeling of being able to survey you as it feeds into his protective habits

If you fall asleep while cuddling that's all the better because it shows you trust him enough to watch over you and you feel comfortable enough to feel at ease in his embrace

Unfortunately cuddling with time is far and few, he’s a busy guy having to take care of a group of rowdy adventurers so any intimate one on one time has to wait in the back burner until the right moment arrives

So any cuddle time you get is spent in 20 minutes to an hour,maybe half a day if a miracle like that somehow happens

Treasure the seconds you have with him because once it's over you're not going to know if you'll get it back again in 40 minutes or 40 days later

#lu hyrule #linked universe x reader #linked universe #lu legend #lu time #fluff #ask #headcanons

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