#have perhaps become a bit too comfortable | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ane-doodles · 2 days

Note

Hello! Love your multiple Lambs and your artstyle! You, me, @poppy-purpura, and @agnusloomis are the only ones I know of currently with multiple Lambs. Tell me of your Sorrow and Fondness Lamb, and also the Showman. How did those two come to be? Drink water plenty. May a kind week grace you.

Yayayaya! At first I tried to resist having so many AUs... but in the end it's something that makes me happy, even if I'm not able to write/draw a good story for everyone in the end.

Oh yes rambling time LETS GO!! (notice that a LONG post is coming)

Suemy (Fondness & Sorrows AU) This is born from a kind of "What if" from Chain for a promise, in which instead of Avana being the last lamb, the one who survives is her twin sister Suemy.

If you have had the opportunity to read my little ramblings previously you will have an idea of what this entails, if not I will tell you already: in CFP the tragedy occurs two days before Suemy's wedding, she and her partner being the first to die, followed by the parents of the family and finally Caleb (the older brother) who dies protecting Avana.

However, in F&S the formula changes: Caleb and Suemy's partner are the first to die in order to give the sheeps time to escape, but this does not last more than a couple of days since both are found easily and in an attempt desperate to protect her sister, Avana dies, leaving Suemy alone as the lamb of the prophecy.

Suemy is someone sweet, kind, I originally designed her based on the image of a princess with a heart of gold and a soft and melodious voice. So here she is now, heartbroken, alone, incapable of attachment, completely detached from the cult and fulfilling a mission assigned to her while grief suffocates her. She becomes an untouchable and perfect figure in the eyes of her followers, but inside so small with a wound that she herself refuses to let heal and that bleeds her heart every day.

But, "oh lucky one... A god has set his eyes on her.

In two lives immersed in the sadness of loss and betrayal, both meet to perhaps repair a little of the damage accumulated by the passage of time and repressed feelings.

Narinder was initially hardened by the pain and frustration of his siblings' betrayal, combined with the helplessness of being dependent on someone else to free himself. A whirlwind of strong and changing emotions within him that blind his vision, focusing only on a revenge calculated for more than a thousand years without rest...

But a hardened heart is capable of softening in the face of the purest tears, and with a delicate hand the wounds can be sutured..."

This AU is a kind of Post-Canon bad ending Hurt/Comfort. There is not much plot to tell, it focuses mainly on the thousand and one ways in which Narinder cares for and pampers the lamb in order to make her feel good, while at the same time the desire for revenge (the main reason for being freed) is replaced with the desire to protect such a delicate flower that bleeds in his hands.

.......

Now, about The Showman... Funny story

This lamb was supposed to be my Lambsona, something for personal use to scribble among my class notes... But little by little it evolved.

The Box AU is a sort of "bin of discarded ideas" (it basically has all the ideas, scenes, and dynamics that I decided to leave out or modify from CFP but still enjoy). The Box AU is totally self-indulgent and I'm still amazed today at how far I've come in thinking about this AU (I've even considered twisting it a bit and turning it into an original story).

Anyway, the story in a nutshell: In short the game was broken.

Einar is a black sheep, they was separated from the group due to superstitions, but they never took It the wrong way. They became a kind of traveler/storyteller when they abandoned their flock, thanks to this they was the last lamb to survive.

The lamb is strong... Too strong actually, but they lacks any battle skills which makes them die often (it's based on my save file, because despite playing on easy mode I'm terrible at combat). Frustrated with this, they decides to find another way to complete their mission of freeing The One Who Waits.

By chance, they discovers a book with ancient knowledge of the gods of the ancient faith, where there are multiple rituals forgotten by time. Thanks to this, they learn a way to invoke the god of death and free him from his punishment!! ...But with the price that he is now trapped in a mortal body with his powers reduced and a suppressed rage towards the lamb.

Even so, Einar considers it a victory and offers to help him rebuild, expand and please the cult, so that through devotion his powers return, but of course, the crown is missing.

It turns out that the crown is "stuck" to Einar's head, as they were designated as the perfect vessel, which is why the crown rejects the cat's attempts to retrieve it. On one occasion Narinder reviews the ancient book of the lamb and discovers a possible solution to his problem... A union ritual. Once he and the lamb unite the power of the crown will be divided, then it will be a matter of getting rid of the usurper.

Either way, this won't be so easy. Since in this AU Narinder and the lamb don't really know each other (the ritual happens before confronting Leshy). So there you see Narinder behind the lamb trying to convince him of a marriage while Einar rejects him a thousand and one times without the slightest interest and trying to discover a way to grow the cult.

I love the dynamic between these two in this AU. A combination of comedy, silliness, misunderstandings, adorableness, and a manhwa-style romance (because hey, the marriage of convenience trope has to come from somewhere).

I like to imagine that between Narinder's frustrated attempts to conquer/convince Einar, he gradually develops a special affection for them, while for his part the lamb sees the god as a companion, a friend and someone with whom maybe they wants to identify himself in some way (you know... A black sheep and a black cat)

And well! This is a kind of summary/introduction!!

I'm sorry for making such a LONG text, but I really like thinking about them and the idea of sharing a bit of my brainrot was too tempting to contain...

F&S doesn't have much material currently, but I'm drawing a couple of sketches from time to time (still figuring out how to do Narinder's post-imprisonment design).

On the contrary, Box AU has a considerable amount of material, scenes, ideas, sketches and even its own shitten with a sequel! So if you're interested in that let me know and I'll make a super post dedicated to this AU.

Have a wonderful day!!

#ane talking #A LOT #oh my....#cotl #cotl au #fondness and sorrows AU #Box AU #ane doodles yay!#cult of the lamb

33 notes · View notes

lizzybeth1986 · 2 days

Text

Reader Fatigue

Book: The Royal Romance

Rating: G

Pairing: Hana Lee x Kiara Theron

Word Count: 2, 501 words

Summary: Over a year after she has settled in with her wife in Cordonia, why does Hana not feel the same joy when she reads??

Tagging @hanaleeappreciationweek and @sazanes for HLAW Day 3: Bookworm, @choicesficwriterscreations for FoTW and LGBTQ Archive, and @choicesmaychallenge24 for the theme "Athena: Wisdom".

Three months.

Hana stirs in her bed, frowning drowsily at the abandoned book on her bedside table. The thought is small, fleeting, a tiny grain of doubt that could be swept away in the wind. Yet it persists, in the harsh, too-bright sunlight streaming in from the French windows in her bedroom, reminding her that it's mid-afternoon; the time she typically would use to enjoy a cup of tea and a light read.

Hana allows herself a small smile as the figure next to her groans and inches a little closer to her, her arms still wrapped loosely around her waist. It's usually Kiara who gets up earlier from their afternoon siestas, teasing her over wanting to read "when your eyes aren't even half-open yet, chérie!"

On weekends, Kiara would encourage her to sleep in a little more. She knew Hana would appreciate the opportunity to binge-read cover-to-cover - perhaps re-read if she really liked the material.

It's been three months now since she's been able to complete a chapter, much less a book.

Hana stretches, catlike, before blindly groping for the book she'd left abandoned on the bedside table. The Crown and the Flame. It's an abridged version, one she'd carried from her childhood home and always found herself devouring in less than two hours...yet somehow she hasn't been able to move past Dominic Hunter's account of his first encounter with a young Princess Kenna at a Beltane festival.

Hana wishes she know how - when! - it had come to this.

When she got married to Kiara last year, it was almost as if the floodgates had opened on everything. Whatever Esther had predicted in that patisserie in Paris - maybe you're fated to be a prim, girly girl adventurer who has unknown depths just waiting to be found! - seemed to be on the cusp of becoming a reality.

Back home in Shanghai, almost every morsel of literature Hana managed to devour was a guilty pleasure; she'd hidden books in secret corners, savoured words and worlds unknown underneath the comforting cocoon of a blanket, uttered half-truths to keep the more scandalous material out of her parents' hands, weaved happy endings and bright futures for favourite couples and charactes, long after she had put the books down.

Hana wonders now if half the fun, back then, was in the secrecy. If half the comfort had come from sharing space with Father and Mother, and knowing they would never truly be able to capture the joy she experienced from reading or make it their own. There was a freedom in that - and for Hana, any freedom would be a luxury to be savoured, like a bonbon from a visiting relative, savoured bite by tiny bite just so the pleasure could last a bit longer.

That shift in circumstances when she married Kiara, had been overwhelming. And perhaps the way she had just gone rogue the minute Kiara gifted her her own personal library, was to be expected.

No rules, no restrictions, no restraints on what she could or couldn't read. The cocoon of her blankets gave way to the vast expanse of her library, with its wide welcoming spaces, its winding staircases, its comforting, velvet seats that allowed her to sink into them, whenever she felt like having a reading marathon.

(Which was often).

Hana had spent so much of her childhood looking over her shoulder as she devoured her books, that the idea of just reading whatever the hell she wanted felt overwhelming. But she grabbed it. With both hands. And embraced the prospect. With all her heart. Hours and hours perusing over every possible scrap of reading material she could find - history, mythology, mystery fiction, true crime, even gothic horror (which she didn't expect to wholeheartedly love the way she does now!).

Whenever the two of them got even a sliver of free time, Kiara would come to expect that Hana would suggest sneaking into the library first.

(For a reading session? To ravish each other against the bookshelves, sending an entire pile of French Renaissance literature tumbling to the floor? Both possibilities held equal appeal)

Hana would even give the occasional gossip rag the once-over, though the abysmal editing and the awful typos made her grit her teeth on occasion.

It was glorious. Novels, poetry, essay collections, her favourite mythological retellings. There was nothing Hana wouldn't read; this library was her oyster. Some evenings when Kiara came home later than Hana did, she wouldn't even bother searching anywhere else in their manor - she'd just make a beeline to the library.

That was a year ago.

Wearily, Hana places a bookmark (handmade, laminated, with pressed dried flowers she had selected herself) on the very page she'd opened, letting out a soft sigh. It's almost as if - after the exhilaration of reading whenever and whatever she liked - her brain has decided it's had enough, and has shut down.

In the first two weeks of this strange predicament, Hana had tried to put it down to different things. Overwork, or the aftermath of juggling all her new roles and all the new skills she'd managed to learn. Perhaps her reading has suffered because she doesn't have the time.

But she knows in her heart that that isn't quite true. Hana isn't sure she has been as free in her life as she has been these past few months. Her calendar has been freed up considerably; she's managed to have more romantic dates with Kiara in the past month than they'd had all year. It can't be a lack of time or even general fatigue, because these days she doesn't do much else that taxes the mind.

No - she has the time. She has the resources - thanks to Kiara, far too much of the resources. And there's no question that she has the desire to keep reading. She just can't ever bring herself to finish.

As she places the book, dully, back on the bedside table, Hana feels a slender arm snaking its way around her waist, a chin nestling against her shoulder with a murmur of approval.

"Mon ange," Kiara whispers, her voice rough, grainy, deep, like freshly-ground coffee. She plants a kiss on Hana's shoulder, lacing their fingers together.

Lazily, Hana turns in Kiara's arms and moves her hands so she can lightly finger her curls, marvelling at how soft they feel in her hands. Kiara takes a long, hard look at Hana as her vision clears, probably wondering what she's hiding. Hana wishes her wife wasn't so good at guessing when something doesn't feel right.

She tries hard to school her features into something more neutral - more fitting for someone who just woke up and wasn't ruminating over something she has lost - but Kiara has never been that easy to fool.

"Everything's okay?" Kiara says, "You've been looking a bit...off for the past few weeks."

Hana looks down, pretending to busy herself with the crocheted fringes of the blanket. Could she laugh it off? Claim that her wife is probably overthinking, that she is worrying over nothing?

Because in the grand scheme of things, it is nothing. She's been doing well. She's never been happier than she is now - she has a home, a purpose, a wife she is madly in love with, passions that she's never felt more free to pursue!

She curses herself as she begins to feel that tell-tale burn in her throat. Struggling to read a book shouldn't affect her this much.

She looks up at Kiara, and almost begins to lie. But Hana knows she's not the best of liars, that most times her eyes give her away. Kiara's fingers are already moving towards the corners of her eyes, brushing the teardrops away.

Hana sniffles. "It's silly."

"Humour me," Kiara nudges her gently. "I don't care how stupid it sounds."

Hana sighs, and tells her. Midway through it all, Kiara props up two pillows against the bedstand and gets them to sit up, Hana safely ensconced in her arms. She tells Kiara everything. How much joy she'd had every time she'd picked up a book. How that joy would spring up double fold if it was about something she barely understood. How easy it was, a year ago, to speed-read the first time, then savour re-reads. How - whenever she felt a little bit naughty - she'd read a book backwards, from the last chapter to the first; giggling as she came to the beginning of the book knowing how it would end.

How...of late...she can find no fun, no joy, in turning to the next page - much less the end of a book.

"It's a stupid, stupid thing to worry about," Hana rails on, "I can just imagine my people at Krysanthe looking at me and shaking their heads and thinking 'oh, the Duchess and her first-world-problems'."

Kiara laughs gently, snuggling Hana closer to her. She passes a small handkerchief to her free hand. "That's all of us, with our people. And they're not completely wrong - of course our lives have always been far better and easier than theirs...most times through their labour. But that doesn't mean that you have to ignore things that confuse or distress you, ma moité." Her hand caresses Hana's shoulder in an attempt to give comfort. "And learning that a pastime so beloved no longer gives you the joy you always got from it...is bound to confuse you."

Hana blows her nose into the handkerchief. "I think a part of it is that...I'm beginning to wonder if I was lying to myself about loving reading books, this whole time."

She takes a deep breath, running her hands back and forth over the soft blanket for comfort. "And if I did...what else have I been lying to myself about? What else will I find I don't like, now that my parents can't dictate the way I live my life? Fashion? Poetry? Music??" Hana takes in a deep breath, almost shocked at the things she's revealing because she hardly ever allowed herself to dwell upon any of this before, much less say it out loud. "What if there's nothing that I liked that I can't put down to parental pressure? What if I keep unraveling, and peeling off, everything I thought I was and find that I'm...well...nothing?"

For one moment, Kiara's eyes seem to search her face, frowning deeply. Then her body goes slack, only her hands enfolding her in a tight, comforting hug. She sighs softly against Hana's hair. "Oh, Hana."

For several minutes, Kiara says nothing - just cradles Hana in her arms, rocking her back and forth, her hands moving in a light caress up and down her spine. When she feels Hana go calmer, she moves her hands to her face, cupping her cheeks.

"What you're facing right now...that's something almost every book lover will have gone through, sometime or other. Especially if their passion was something they had to keep a secret, and they suddenly find that they're no longer bound by any rules or restrictions."

Hana raises her eyes to Kiara's face. "Even you?"

Kiara laughs. "I'm not exactly as passionate about reading as you are, but I've seen that fatigue in Baba often. And I've faced that often with my translation work too. It's what happens when you haven't learnt yet how to regulate your passions. You do too much, you overtax your mind. And maybe this phase...maybe it's your brain and your body screaming for you to find a little bit of balance, darling."

It's now Hana's turn to frown. "What do you mean?"

Kiara's eyes dart upwards, in that way it does whenever she is pondering deeply over the best way to convey a thought. And then she suddenly smiles, almost as if she's found the perfect way to get it across. "You do love chocolate, don't you?"

Hana takes a long, hard look at Kiara's face, then bursts into delighted laughter. "Well, it's impossible to argue about or deny that!"

"What if you gave yourself unlimited access to it...no restrictions, no holds barred, allowing yourself to have as much of it as you've wanted all the time? Would it always taste the same?"

Gazing into her wife's face, Hana marvels at how perfect this analogy is. How fitting. "Of course not. I'd maybe even grow a little sick of it at some point!"

"Does that mean you'd been lying to yourself about loving it this whole time?"

Hana throws back her head and laughs, a full-throated joyful sound this time. "You could even say I'd probably get back to remembering how wonderful it tasted if I spent a little time away from it."

Grinning, Kiara bumps her forehead playfully into Hana's. "Only a bookworm would understand a metaphor that quickly. I wasn't even halfway through explaining that."

Hana slips her hands into Kiara's curls again, just the way she knows her wife likes it. She lets out a watery giggle. "That's very nice to hear."

Kiara exhales and shakes her head. "So much has changed for you, Hana. And it isn't your fault that you found freedom in a thing you loved and pushed yourself into it so much. It's natural for someone who was expected to live her entire life on someone else's terms." She holds one of Hana's hands tight within her own. "When we got married, you approached your reading the way a child would approach a shop full of bonbons for the very first time. Now you're learning the more adult way of doing it - enjoy it... but never too much all at once."

Smiling, her eyes a tiny bit watery, Hana gently cups her wife's chin. "So wise, for one so young," she teases gently.

Kiara playfully punches her arm, pursing her lips in muffled laughter. "Stop sounding like my Baba and act more like my mrati."

In higher spirits now, Hana gives Kiara a quick kiss, then makes a move to get off the bed. "All this talk of chocolate is making me hungry. What do you say I make us a mug each of my special hot chocolate, now that it's almost teatime?"

Kiara smiles, sighing in relief. These are not the words of a woman who is trying to move away, unsuccessfully, from thoughts that disturb her, or an attempt to change the subject. Just a sign that her intrusive, self-flagellation thoughts are moving in a different direction. A better direction.

She nods, eagerly. "Hayati," she says, giving her wife a saucy grin, "when have I ever said no to your hot chocolate?"

Translations:

Ma moité - French for "my other half"

Hayati - Darija/Arabic for "my life"

Mon ange - French for "my angel"

Baba, Mrati - Moroccan Darija terms for addressing one's father and wife, respectively

A/N: Post the pandemic I've been struggling a lot with my reading, and had a lot of the same questions my Hana had running in my head. I guess this fic was an attempt to make sense of that, but using Hana's post-marriage context as a springboard.

#hana lee #the royal romance #the royal heir #the royal finale #hanaleeappreciationweek #HLAW #HLAW 2024 #HLAW Day 3 #HLAW Day 3: Bookworm #lizzybeth1986 #content: fanfic #hana lee x kiara theron #series: petals and thornes

21 notes · View notes

meme-loving-stuck · 10 months

Text

i remember being brought up christian like, almost concerned that i never felt a connection to any of the shit they were talkin about,

and when i was younger i was like "oh no! am i bad for not feeling connected to god?? is it bad i feel like my dead mom doesnt talk to me or watch over me?? am i horrible for pretending?????"

but turns out i just had Autism Powers that made me immune to it and i was able to completely sever myself from the idea of being Christian at the ripe old age of like 13. and it was such a HUGE comfort to see that there were all these other beliefs and spiritual sort of things that other people chose to believe in and didnt necessarily treat their beliefs as COLD HARD UNDENIABLE FACT the way christians treat the existence of god & heaven & hell

like now that i am older i know i was in fact traumatized by the culturally catholic beliefs my family held & forced on us all, but i am really immensely grateful that my child self looked at all the other aspects of christianity that would horrify most other children into behaving/conforming, and basically just went, "okay, source?"

and that was the end of that

#BLOGGING LOUDLY #okay source sounds so cringe ik but like #i really couldnt buy into any of it after a certain point #even though i almost found comfort in it! the idea of prayer was very much that for me the way it is for many ppl #i just literally could not believe something that didnt have proof i could see or touch #and when i was a bit older i did get hit with the 'well you cant SEE gravity but you believe in that'#but again immediately i was like... you can still prove gravity though. i learned it in seventh grade. LMAO #i dont know part of me is relieved i didnt feel the painful separation or conflict that so many others feel #but i am still kind of sad i couldnt just. be that way. and find a home somewhere #and that nothing else has really stood out to me except like non theistic satanism which also sounds. edgy teen boy #like it is a legitimate belief system and i feel closely aligned to it! but im still just kinda meh about using the label ... hrmm #perhaps need to look into the various kinds of satanism again #i tend to stay away from pagan stuff but its also something i found interesting #my partner seems very interested in becoming a jew despite not really... ever having been exposed to judaism or jewish cultures #but id like to learn more about it too i have many resources just kinda sitting....#idk i guess i started thinking about this bc actually studying other religions etc could be very fulfilling but i just....eh....

17 notes · View notes

trollbreak · 1 year

Text

Girl help I’m tormented and thinking abt the snake themed bitches destroying each other and exalting each other and cycling in an endless spiral into power and desolation and

#specifically. when they soft #um. do u know. sometimes wyn used to braid Ichour’s hair. lil mini braids to tie back and keep it out of her face. did u know that bc now u #do. and um. Ichour bringing this feeling of still and stuffy air with her. she can’t escape it. its become a strange comfort for wyn over #the years they’ve been haunted. thinks about what weapon they had to have been fighting over to take off an arm and a head relatively clean #axe violence my beloved. thinks abt Ichour with a war axe. or perhaps a more fantasy battle axe.#thinks abt her making herself visible to wynric and for a brief moment. she looks as she did- albeit a bit pale. blood loss does that to a #person. but her injuries draw themselves across her skin and she opens clouded eyes and pitch blood pours from her like a fountain.#she shows too many teeth when she smiles and the first time she appeared before them Wynric took a step forward in spite of everything- they #reached for her hand in vain. it was nothing personal she had said. the paycheck would have been worth it. they imagine it must have been.#lays on the floor they’re a fucking ouroboros #double ouroboros

2 notes · View notes

chuluoyi · 1 month

Text

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 11:07 P.M 」

divorce scare apology fic🤞🏻 yes people, in the spirit of april 1, it’s gojo who is having dreams :)) and i promise you it’s straight up comfort fic~

a part of gojo's love entries

you’ve known something is bugging satoru as he hasn’t been teasing the heck out of you for these past three days.

and you were proven true when tonight, on your marital bed, he said—

“so… i’ve been thinking…” he started, seemingly deep in thought, playing with your hair. “oh, more like it’s because of this one bad dream…”

“what are you on about?” you raised an eyebrow. okay, you knew something was up with him, but him being a bit skittish made you a bit worried.

“umm, yeah. so, the other day i had this dream about us in tokyo district court—”

“district court—?”

“—getting a divorce, yeah.”

your eyes rounded, and satoru could feel himself almost regretting his words seeing your stunned expression, so he added a band-aid—

“no, it was just a dream! i’m not divorcing you, okay?!”

however, your expression had soured, as you looked down, visibly heartbroken. alarmed, satoru immediately pulled you to his chest.

“oh, ooh— there, there,” he soothed you, stroking your hair. “sweets, no. never. okay? i’m just telling you, just like what you did the other day.”

you had a dream of him cheating on you once, but this was wholly different.

“you’re the worst,” you accused, and despite yourself, you felt an ache in your chest. “how could such thought even cross your mind— that you dream about it?”

“if i can pick my dream… i’ll pick the memory from our honeymoon— precisely when i ripped your black and pink lingerie off and made you scream my name, you know that.”

you huffed, burying your face in his chest. “hmph. explain.”

satoru smiled, finding you so incredibly precious. silly wifey.

he proceeded as he pat your back. “nothing really, i’m still bitter too! no way in hell! but then i started thinking… what would you do in 0.001% chance of us being divorced?”

you pulled away, growling. “…so there’s still a chance—!”

“noooo! that’s statistically impossible! aren’t we having a late night talk? we’re always talking about imaginary scenarios at night, aren’t we?!”

what was the point of this? it was only upsetting you with each second.

“how could you ask me that?” you glared at him resentfully. “if we’re divorced, then—” you grabbed his hand and placed it on your belly. “what about baby? do you not want to see him anymore?”

and in that moment it seemed like he just realized it too as he sheepishly scratched his head, mouth gaping. “ah—”

his response caused your hormones to stir, and combined by your disbelief, you spitefully threw his hand away and turned to your side, refusing to face him.

“if you dare to divorce me, i’ll move out japan at a moment’s notice,” you spat out, crossing your arms. “i won’t let you see my baby— and i’ll put a restraining order on you too, just so you see.”

“whoa, wait—”

“or i can also jump from yasohachi bridge and then become a curse—i’ll haunt you to your dying days!”

“—?! you can’t do that!”

“oh, i can also remarry! i’ll marry ichiji so fast and by the time the baby is born, your kid will have his name instead!”

“ichi— hey! that’s insulting! i would’ve forgiven if it was nanami, but ichiji?!”

“shut up! you’re— you’re annoying!”

in hindsight, this wasn’t something you should get this much worked up for. satoru was obviously just being his dense self and you knew it, but somehow the thought of him suddenly not by your side anymore hurt you— and perhaps your unstable hormones played a part too.

. . . but then his strong arms wrapped around you in that instant, enveloping you in his warm and reassuring embrace from behind. “hey… sweets, don’t be mad…”

“…”

“if you do, baby will also be—”

“you are making us mad.”

“okay, okay.” satoru sighed, his right palm reaching out to caress your five-month baby bump, and his voice was tinted with slight regret as he replied, “sorry…”

you melted a bit, but still gave him the cold shoulder, showing how cross you were that he brought it up in the first place.

and both of you stayed that way for a while, and you started to get sleepy, until you heard him muttering—

“still… whatever you do,” his voice sounded strained, and it made you awake again. “even when i’m not here… you can’t get yourself hurt, alright?”

“what does that mean?” you finally turned towards him, your eyes shone with slight panic. “what do you mean with you not being here?”

“nothing, sweetheart.” satoru grinned, pinching your cheek. “just saying—since i’m away often, don’t do anything reckless, you can get hurt.”

“don’t put it as if you’re going to go some place far away.” you didn’t know what you were spouting now, but you were tired and just didn’t want to pursue this conversation any longer.

you bit your lip, not looking at him. “or… i’ll get sad.”

seeing you so vulnerable and open like this made satoru realize that as much as he needed you to stay sane, you also needed him. the clarity stirred something within him, causing warmth to rapidly spread in his chest.

and he felt soft. so soft for you. and he adored you, more than anyone else in this wretched world.

“aw, look at my baby girl.” your husband cradled you close to him with a wide grin, patting you soothingly, his heart fluttering. “how can i leave you be a single mother? i’m here, yeah? always.”

and you believed him. otherwise, you were willing to risk it all just to get him home, by your side.

you smushed your face into his chest, ignoring your burning face. “hmph, being a single mother isn’t that bad. i can still drain your wealth.”

“huh?! wait, you just said you’ll be sad without me!”

and you thought, being in his embrace is the most comforting place of all.

epilogue

“by the way, i just realized…” satoru fixed his frown on you accusingly in the next morning. “how is your taste in men so bad? why ichiji as your first pick?”

“uh,” you were at a loss of words, totally not expecting this discussion on a brand new morning. “because… he’s kind? he’s easiest to sway—”

“so you’re saying… you can seduce him easily?!”

“…sort of? but you’re right, i should go for nanami. he’s way good-looking. or his apprentice… what’s his name again? ino takuma—”

“nanami? ino?! wait a minute…! y-you’re my wife… but you’re also thinking about which man is easier to seduce and which is more attractive?!”

“uh— you’re the one asking first!”

“still! so you do think about them! about weaker, lesser men who are not me!”

“nanami is not—!”

“hoh?! so it’s nanami, huh!?”

“don’t you dare to start anything, gojo satoru,” you hissed. “you said my taste in men is bad. so that includes you too.”

“wha?!”

3K notes · View notes

champagnefountains · 3 months

Text

LUCIFER MAGNE - H.H.

Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Genre: Angst and hurt; somewhat fluffy (but only for a brief while). Warnings: Swearing. Unhealthy relationship/coping mechanisms (?). Word count: 2.2k+

Lucifer had been courting you for a couple of months already, the King of Hell finally deciding it was time to make the two of you official. The tension was so incredibly thick, that even the hotel’s patrons were growing sick of having to watch the two of you dance aimlessly around each other. Charlie included.

The past couple of months were more than delightful – Lucifer treated you like a Queen, taking you out almost every other night, having nice candle-lit dinners, and dancing the night away. And if you weren’t really feeling the glamour, the both of you would stay cuddled up against one another whilst watching some cliche rom-com. It was like a dream. It was perfect…well, almost.

The very source of your concerns was the golden band that remained in Lucifer’s ring-finger.

You knew about the heart-break and torment that Lucifer underwent following his separation with Lilith. Understandably, having been together for many decades and centuries, the King had a difficult time trying to move on. Even in the earlier stages of your relationship, when he had been comfortable confiding in you, it was evident that he still deeply cared for Lilith, despite her absence.

You tried to be understanding – you really, really did. But every time you held his hand, the cold metal feeling against your fingers set a painful reminder that maybe he still hasn’t moved on completely.

It filled you to the brim with self-doubt. Perhaps he was just keeping you around just to fill in the void she had left. And if that were the case, were you even doing a good enough job in that? Hypothetically, if Lilith were to waltz in front of the hotel’s doors one day, was he going to throw you off to the side and run away with her? What if he’d grow bored of you all of a sudden?

Questions such as these would linger at the back of your head constantly, and as they did, you would cast a longing gaze in his direction. When he catches your eye, he would automatically send a smile your way, pearly-whites in full display. It would make you smile without fail, because how could it not? You loved that dashing smile of his. But everyday, you wondered if you could continue to maintain that smile in your life.

One night in particular, during dinner at one of Hell’s finest establishments, Lucifer noticed that something was off. Your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes, and you seemed like you were anywhere but here. Your eyes had a distant look to them and whenever he’d ask if something was wrong, you would become dismissive. It concerned him a lot.

“Darling, are you alright?” Lucifer carefully asked once you both made it to the front porch of the hotel. “Was it the food? Was it not to your liking? Because the chicken was a bit off to be honest, it could’ve been a bit more seasoned–”

“Luci,” you intervened and grabbed his hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “The food was great, really. It’s just…” As your voice trailed off, you were quick to feel that damn ring around his finger. Because, of course you did, and it didn’t help your mood at all. You force out a huff and pull away, causing the demon’s frown to deepen, “I’m feeling a little under the weather tonight – probably just lacking a bit of sleep.”

Lucifer scanned your face all over, his brows furrowed in worry. “Well…I guess you have been working harder for the hotel recently.” There had been some truth in that – after all, there had been an influx of sinners in the hotel since the cancellation of this year’s extermination. But he didn’t seem to stop there, not fully convinced by your reasoning, “...But are you sure that’s all, my dear?”

You looked at him, surprised, as if suddenly caught red-handed. He was quick to pick up on that too, confirming his suspicions and making him all the more nervous.

“What are you trying to say?” You ask.

“Well, i-it’s just that I noticed that you’ve been acting a bit off recently,” he splutters. “And not only tonight. You’ve become a bit more…I don’t know, distant with me. And it worries me, y’know? I just…I really, really care about you. A lot.” He almost looks defeated as he rubs anxiously at his nape, “And if I’m being honest, it scares the absolute shit out of me that what I’m doing now isn't right."

Your brows crease in confusion, “...What are you talking about?”

Lucifer closed his eyes, dragging a palm against his face as an exaggerated groan leaves his lips. “Look, I’m not exactly experienced with all…all this – the one woman I’ve ever been in a committed relationship with left me. Just like that!” He lets out a humourless snort. “A-And I don’t know what I did to make her leave and I for sure don’t want to make that same mistake again. I…I want to be assured that I’m making you happy.”

Lucifer looks up at you, eyes filled with warmth, as he places a gentle hand against your cheek. He breaks the distance between you to press his forehead against yours. You automatically lean against him out of habit. “I don’t want to lose you. And if I’m doing something wrong, tell me. Please, don’t shut me out.” He pleads, his voice almost falling into a whisper. The unexpected confession left you speechless, your chest feeling all the more tight. It was making you feel worse than you already did.

You let out a shaky sigh, trying to keep the pending tears at bay. “Luci, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…I-I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. Trust me when I say that you’ve been nothing more than a gentleman, and every moment we’ve spent together has been magical. I appreciate you so, so much, and I could never, ever ask for anything more.”

You shut your eyes tight, shame filling your very core. “I’m just being a little silly–”

“No, no. Don’t say that, darling. Please tell me what’s going on. It’s okay,” Lucifer encourages softly, his thumb rubbing reassuringly against your cheek.

You grab his wrist and gently pull your face away from him. With the hand on his arm, you slide it down to grab at his own, bringing it up into view and in-between the both of you. Almost instantaneously, both your eyes lie on the golden band on his finger – to Lucifer, it suddenly clicks. But he couldn’t help but feel an internal conflict brew within him.

“I-I know how much that ring and Lilith means to you. I really do and I feel awful having to feel this way, but I just…I can’t help it,” you mutter, finally allowing the first couple of tears to fall, “I-I often find myself counting the days and hours when you’ll suddenly realise that I will never be good enough for you. It feels like I’m constantly having to compete with her–heck, what am I even saying? I know I’ll never be able to compete – because, I mean, come on. I'm a nobody!” You chuckle tearfully whilst gesturing to yourself with a free hand.

“And I don’t think I’ll ever understand how you’d ever settle for someone like me. I’m not nearly as important, nor am I the best-looking demon out there. I’m just me.”

“But Lucifer, whenever I’m with you, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. I smile more. Laugh more. I even enjoy the little things more. And I don’t want that to go away. And I’m just hoping– Satan, I’m fucking hoping that it’s the same for you. And if it is, then how long is that going to last with me?”

Completely shocked, Lucifer watched in silence as his love sobbed their heart out in front of him. He wanted nothing more than to go and wrap you in his warm embrace, and whisper reassurances and hush down your cries. Because, you were right – you did make him happy. So unbelievably happy. You had been the light that casted away the shadows in his darkest times. And yet, why? Why did he remain where he stood, unmoving as tears pathetically poured from his eyes? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

There was a brief, stagnant moment of contemplation where the both of you just stood there. It was the realisation that Lucifer didn’t make any effort to formulate some form of response, that disappointed you even further. It only made the doubtful voice in your head louder.

It was you who ultimately decided to make the first move, wiping tiredly at your reddened face as you glanced at the hotel’s door. “I’ll be heading off first. I’ll be in the guest room tonight – it’s been a long day,” you raspily say, hiccuping as you pushed through the doors and disappeared into the hotel, leaving Lucifer alone outside.

As you entered the hotel, you immediately noticed Husk’s presence by the bar, who had been polishing some glasses by the counter. In front of him was Angel, who was making some sweet, small talk with him. They were both alerted by your entrance as the doors flew open, and as Angel was about to greet you in his usual playful fashion, his voice fell flat when he saw the depressed state you were in.

“Woah, there. What the hell happened to you? You look like shit,” Angel asked, standing to meet you half-way, “I thought you and Short-King were out on a date. Did something happen?”

“We were but we had a fight or something,” you tiredly shrugged as you walked past the arachnid and plopped yourself down on one of the bar stools. You swirled yourself on the seat to face Husk. “Give me the strongest shit you have. And make it double,” you waved absently at the feline-demon, who raised an incredulous brow at your bluntness. “Damn, it must be that serious considering you don’t even drink,” he grumbles as he turns to start brewing a glass of something, “...do you wanna talk about it?"

You contemplated his offer for a second and realised that you did. For the next five or so minutes, you ended up recounting everything that happened earlier tonight, all the while shedding even more tears. Angel was kind enough to supply you with a mountain of tissues to cry into.

“Well, it sounds to me that your man’s got a whole lot of thinking to do,” Husk clicks his tongue. “But what you’re feeling is completely valid.” “Yeah, who the fuck wears their ol’ wedding ring while dating someone else? What an asshole,” Angel hisses.

“S-So you guys think there’s a possibility that he might consider ending things with me?” You question dejectedly. Husk and Angel share a look of uncertainty, suddenly feeling the need to be careful of their words. Because they genuinely weren’t sure.

“I–Look, that’s not something we should be focusing on at the moment– I mean, of course, let’s hope that that’s not where this is going. I just think he needs some space to think things through properly,” Husk says.

“And I know I was talking a whole lot of shit before but let’s take the benefit of the doubt and look at things from his point of view. He was in that boat for more than a couple thousand years. And shit, that’s a lot of fucking years.” Angel points out. “It might take him a while longer to adjust to that, y’know?” Angel places a hand on your shoulder, grinning at you reassuringly, “But there’s one thing for sure that myself and everyone else knows: the guy loves yah, toots. Anyone with eyes can see it, and you guys are really fucking disgusting about it too–ow!”

Angel suddenly lunges forward against the counter as one of Husk’s wings swipes down to slap the back of his head. “‘The fuck was that for?! It’s true, ain’t it?!” Husk rolled his eyes at his dramatics, before turning back to you. “He’s right, though. Just…just give him a bit more time. I’m sure in the end, the both of you will be fine.”

Meanwhile, Lucifer decided to head back to his own castle, wanting to be alone to sort through his cluttered thoughts. He was beyond upset with himself for making you cry like that, because it was the last thing he wanted. But he was more upset at the fact that he didn’t know how to navigate through his emotions, despising that he found himself second guessing his feelings.

As you explicitly implied, was he really still unconsciously longing for Lilith? Was that why he kept wearing his ring? Why was he still wearing it? Was it just for his own comfort? But why would he need it anyways? You were there, weren’t you? All he had said to you tonight, he was contradicting himself, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’s scared. Maybe he isn’t ready yet. But, why would he be with you if he didn’t think so? What exactly were you to him? And what exactly was Lilith to him now?

Lucifer was a complete mess, and that night he couldn’t find a single blink of sleep as these thoughts plagued him. And neither could you, as you scrutinised every aspect of your relationship, thinking of what this could mean for the both of you, moving forward.

Yeah…perhaps you both needed some time.

Chapter II [x]

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel

5K notes · View notes

m-ayo-o · 3 months

Note

megumi and yuji sharing a cute bunny girl and yuji is so soft and sweet with her and gumi pounds her into the mattress 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

* ✦　˚　. s t r a w b e r r i e s & c r e a m ★⋆. ࿐࿔

REQUESTS ARE STILL CLOSED : written in the past! 🍒 yuji + megumi 21+ x hybrid bunny girl reader 🐇 wc: 2.6k aged up characters !!! nsfw -> panty ripping, messy pussy eating, squirting mention, explicit food play, threesome, pussy sharing (i went on a side quest with this one) hybrid fics 💕 valentine's

Another month has passed, with your heat cycle running its course, going up and down with your hormones.

Your owner knows every detail of your behaviour during the cycle. He knows when you need comforting and snuggling, he knows when you need a bit of space, and he knows when you're so pent up you never want to let him go.

And now his sweet best friend, who you've come to like very much, knows a lot about you too. He spends so much time visiting you and your owner, you've become close. You trust him- not as much as your owner, but enough that you feel very comfortable around the pink haired man.

Perhaps a little too comfortable, Megumi is beginning to think.

However, he continues to allow his visits because when Yuji arrives it looks like your birthday and Christmas have come at once. With that pretty, shy smile of yours, the excited shine behind your eyes; Megumi can't deny that.

And you're so glad, because now it almost feels like you have two owners. You know that's not true. It never will be. But two gorgeous men looking after you is a real treat. They're very different, but you can tell they both care about you so much.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

After another cute day out with them, going to the movies followed by a bit of shopping (with some grunting and sighing from Megumi) you're finally back in your warm apartment, nestled on the sofa with Yuji.

Or rather, Yuji's sitting on the sofa. You're sitting on him.

He dragged you onto his lap after you got changed into something 'more comfortable' when you got home. It's just so warm and cosy, it's like your nest where you feel most content, so of course you put on a cute little night dress. You didn't take into consideration the two of their feelings when you selected this certain piece of clothing, only that it would help keep you a bit cooler.

But it's not exactly helping now your body is under Yuji's burning hot touches. He's always so warm it feels like he has fire under his caramel skin, deep in his body, that's released with every loving squeeze to your waist, your hips, your arms, your back- anywhere he can touch he is blazing a trail of heat.

He touches you on instinct; following the flow of your body. You're just chatting away and he can't keep his big hands off you.

"I really liked that store we went to, with the- uh, um-"

You forget what they called it. Your nose twitches and your ears flop to the side with a confused look on your dainty features.

Yuji studies your puzzled face for a moment, wondering which store you might mean.

"Oh, the lingerie?"

"Yes, yes!" That was it. All of those pretty, skimpy outfits, dresses and costumes, with the lace and bows and- you just can't contain your excitement- "it was so beautiful in there."

You say with a dreamy look on your face.

"Mhm," Yuji nods in agreement, his brown eyes giving you a long and loving stare, "and you would look so beautiful... in those outfits."

He admits a little bashfully, still with a soft smile on his face.

"Maybe we can go back and you can try some on?" He asks while tugging at the hem of your nightie you're currently wearing.

This one is cute enough, he thinks, with the way it barely covers your ass and reveals your sumptuous thighs to him. It makes him drool. He places his hands there now, on your thighs, absentmindedly squeezing.

You nod and say how much you'd like that.

"Good, oh good, I'd love it too," he gets excited now, picturing you in all the pretty lingerie sets his heart desires, until he hears a little squeak from your mouth and you tug on his brawny wrists.

"Ow- ow! Yuji~ y-you're hurting me-"

During his daydreaming, he started grabbing your thighs much too hard, simply forgetting to hold back the strength in his hands.

He jumps suddenly then starts caressing your legs.

"Oh-! I, I'm sorry, bunny, I didn't mean to-" he coos and dips his head down to inspect your legs with a sad look on his face. You tell him it's okay and stroke his soft pink strands till he's holding you closer and murmuring apologies into your chest. You hold the back of his neck, stroking down to the hefty muscle of his shoulders and pressing your body into him till he looks up at you with a little pout on his lips and asks-

"Can I kiss them better?"

You smile and let him sit you down on the sofa, watching him drop to his knees and stroke your legs, pressing his warm mouth over your thighs.

Megumi has been in the kitchen all this time, tidying up after dinner and whipping up some cream for dessert (mainly for you and Yuji). But now your soft chatting has ceased his ears prick at the silence and he wonders what you're up to.

Now Yuji is getting carried away. He's kissed every inch of your warm thighs, taking your soft skin in his calloused grip, licking you and squeezing you softly. His gaze has gone all mellow now you're in his hands and he starts kissing between your thighs, where he didn't even touch before, nuzzling his nose over your satin skin and spreading your legs wider. You just sigh softly, completely adoring all of his sweet affections, until he brings his mouth to settle over the warm centre of your pussy. Your skimpy panties still cover you up, but that doesn't stop him from kissing and licking you there, feeling the moist patch beneath the material and now starting to moan into you.

"You smell so good."

He pushes his head closer and buries himself between your thighs, stuffing his big hands under your ass to pull you into him and you hear a sudden tearing sound.

It makes you jump, but his soothing words comfort you till you sink into the sofa and let him do what he wants with you.

"Oh, we'll have to go to that store now, bunny-" he coos and shreds the last of your panties, tugging the remaining string out of his way, "get you some new pretty panties, hm? Can I choose them? 'Gumi can choose some too, right?"

You nod and watch his tongue slide over his lips, before returning all of his attention to your pussy that's finally bare for him to lick. He sticks his tongue out and connects to your lips with a groan, now feeling your sweetness over his tongue. He eats you till you're dizzy and squirting all over his stubbly chin.

He lets go and pants softly, licking up the mess and trailing his half lidded eyes over your body. He's so entranced with watching you squirm under his gentle tonguing that he didn't hear Megumi step into the living room. But you see him approach and he's carrying something, with a little smile on his face now he can see why you two were so quiet.

He gets closer, watching Yuji continue as if he weren't even there, and reaches out to you where you sit, with your legs open in Yuji's strong hands.

"Here," you notice he has something between his fingers as he brings them closer to your parted lips, "want a strawberry, bunny?"

You lick your lips then open your mouth for the juicy treat and he watches you with delight, nibbling on the soft fruit until it's all gone. He sees a bit of the pinkish juice trickle down your chin and he swipes it away lovingly.

"You want some dessert, Yuji?"

He asks his friend who's still enjoying his own dessert between your legs, but he moans in agreement and your owner heads back to the kitchen. He'd love to see this, anyway. Since he can't eat so much cream and knows you and Yuji both love it, he'll treat you two and watch you having fun.

He comes back with whipped cream in a bowl, holds a spoon out and tells you it might feel a little cold.

Yuji moves his head back with a string of slick juice connecting him to your pussy and watches the blob of cream land on your clit. You giggle and shiver at the wet feeling and Yuji looks up at his friend, thanking him then dives into his new meal.

He hums with excitement, lapping the cream from your sweet folds and telling Megumi to add more. He spoons it on, with a strawberry this time, which Yuji nimbly slides down your lips and presses into your hole. It feels funny, but the fruit slides in a little and Yuji giggles and slurps it right back out again, munching on it and swallowing every bit of juice down.

You have your fun with the dessert and Megumi steps away to clean up again, only to re-enter the living room with you sitting on Yuji's lap, this time stuffed full of his cock. He couldn't wait a second longer and loved how your eyes nearly crossed when he slipped his tongue inside you- he just had to get back on the sofa and pull you onto him, getting your pussy stretched over his fat dick.

"Yeah- yeah, bunny, oh you're so good at taking me now, huh? Got used to me really good, like you're mine~" he presses needy kisses to your throat and pulls your nightie off, licking your supple tits and telling you how crazy you make him.

But you can see it now, in the way he's starting to sigh your name and chant over and over-

"My bunny, mine, mine~"

-he's starting to forget who's watching. Without thinking, he keeps this up and opens his mouth to suck on your neck.

"Yuji," his best friend's voice cuts through the haze of his arousal, causing him to slow down the pumping motions of his cock.

Megumi has been very patient with his best friend. He knows that you adore him, he knows how Yuji feels about you, and he allows your horny antics for the most part.

"Yuji."

"Do I have to remind you... who she belongs to?"

It's not jealousy that drives him. Oh no, Yuji is the only other man who's lucky enough to touch you, and he'll let him fuck you till the sun burns out. But he just wants to remind you both of his power as an owner.

Your owner.

"Bunny, up."

He commands and you jump off Yuji's cock without hesitation, leaving the poor man moaning and grabbing onto his thighs. He doesn't grab for you. He can't hurt you again, so he keeps his hands to himself.

"Come."

"Cum, oh- good girl- on command? You're such a pretty little thing, and so obedient, too. Fuck, sometimes I think you're too perfect to share."

He spares his friend a glance, where he's leaning heavily against your bedroom wall with his dick in his hand. He knows he should've showed some self restraint and tugged his shorts back up, but he couldn't help following you and touching himself to the sights of you obeying your owner's every command.

"Bounce on my dick- yeah, oh well done, bunny-" he praises you and strokes your body while you move up and down.

"Now come here," he lifts you off and pats the bed, watching you crawl onto the mattress eagerly, "I'm gonna give you a special treat, ok?"

He gets on top of you and throws your legs over his shoulders, sinking himself in inch by inch and pressing his strong body down on you.

"You love this position, don't you baby?" He coos and Yuji starts to whimper, seeing how you're being folded in half by his best friend.

"Oh, sounds like someone else does too," Megumi muses and looks the pink haired man up and down before returning all of his attention to you.

"Now, for your treat," he hums with the corner of his mouth forming a coy smile.

"Treat?" You repeat happily, looking up at him as if he's your whole world. Which he is. And Megumi knows he is, and it makes him so proud.

"Yeah~" he's all the way in, struggling to control himself now he can feel the tight pressure of your sweet, wet pussy.

"I'm gonna give it to you hard, ok?"

You gasp and smile, eyes sparkling with excitement.

"M-Megumi- owner- owner-!!!" You squeal and have a dizzy look on your face before he's even started.

"Calm- calm down, bunny- I can feel you squeezing me, you're gonna make me cum-" he gives you a breathy laugh and then asks if you're ready, at which you nod and Yuji watches in awe.

He places a hand on your head, offering a buffer against the headboard, leans in close and starts up a rhythm of hard pumping. He starts off slow, but each thrust is more untamed than the last, and when he gets faster you slam a hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming. Your spare hand grabs the bedsheets for dear life and you watch your owner's descent into mindless fucking.

Sometimes you think Megumi fucks you like he's the one in heat, and your little mind starts to wonder how amazing that would be if he had heats, too. You wonder what he would be like. But you're brought right back down to earth again when your owner addresses you.

"Bunny," his voice is low and raspy, "hands on me."

Your little hands immediately release your mouth and the bedsheets and fly to his body. One lands on his chest, the other nestled in his jet black strands.

"Good," he presses his forehead to yours, "good girl."

He sinks into you so hard, with your knees by your ears, pushing closer and closer till you're completely overwhelmed by him and tears start to spill down your cheeks.

"Pretty," he kisses them away gently, "pretty bunny, are you crying because of me?"

"B-be-cause..." your eyes dart down to where he's entering you.

"'cause 'm fucking you too hard?"

You bite your lip, willing him to understand that it isn't too hard, it just feels so good you started crying. You couldn't help it.

"Want me to go easy on you?"

You shake your head rapidly.

"Ah- bunny- y-you're perfect, you know that- letting me fuck you like this~"

The wooden headboard starts smacking into the wall with his thrusts now and the boards start to creak dangerously underneath. You wonder if the bed will last.

He pins you to the mattress, giving you every ounce of pleasure, until you're gasping out that you're going to cum.

"Again? Oh, bunny, you're too good to me," he hums and praises you softly while delivering those forceful bucks of his hips.

Yuji never does it like this, and you start to admit you've been a little wrapped up in all of your soft and sweet sex with him that you may have been neglecting your owner.

"M-missed you-" he can feel you start to pulse and grip him harder now as you get another buzz of pleasure through your cute body. You kiss his pretty face as he guides you through it and he watches with pure adoration as you start to cry and tell him how much you've missed him doing it like this.

"It's okay, it's okay, Yuji come here," he beckons his friend as you come down from your intense high. Megumi lets up a little and starts giving you slower rolls of his hips, grinding his body into you.

"Let's take turns, ok? See how many times we can make you cum tonight, bunny. You can have both of us, alright? You don't have to choose."

Your owner kisses your head and releases you and the two men slide in and out of you all night till they're spent and filling you one final time before collapsing on the mattress either side of you, all flushed and dripping with sweat.

You feel relieved now, knowing that only a little while ago your owner may have got a bit angry with Yuji calling you 'mine'. But he knows only he can give you what you truly need. It's all fun and games with Yuji, but Megumi is your owner and there are certain things that only he can do to you.

yuji | megumi | m.list

2K notes · View notes

forbidden-sunlight · 4 months

Text

yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own

Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.

First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.

Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)

Part Two

Part Three

Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought.

He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself.

The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark.

God’s Beloved.

The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes.

The Holiest Woman in the World.

There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff.

Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance.

Yes, you were the Reverend Sister but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place.

The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes.

His Eyes that you now possessed.

No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.

You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision.

Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe.

He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever.

One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther.

“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.”

Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?

No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister.

Something is not right.

He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir.

If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.

You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision.

All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight, vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it?

This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return.

Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take.

That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser.

Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?

If the sight of seeing this Affection Level and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target.

Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”

Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor.

You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist.

Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered.

“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.

“Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”

Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation.

May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.

Taglist

@impeakcharacterdesign

@faesdreaming

@faux-ecrivain

@majestichugs

@abelheilonwife

@suiana

@lxdymoon0357

@dxmoness

@tired-of-life-86

@imperfectbloodmoon

@lovely-nightmares

@yandere-dark-cupid

@beardedblizzardexpert

@angelltheninth

@d10nsaint

@likesugarandcyanide

@justcressida

@mooly-artistic

@cassanderasblog

@swallowtailcherry

@amidst-the-tempest

@detectivesparrow

@thatstrangesheep

@average-yandere-enjoyer

@tonightwrites

@navierkalani

@cinderella-dreaming

@dragonempress18

©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere #ns.fw #yandere oc #yandere!holy knight #tw obsession #tw sui ideation #tw sui attempt #fem!reader #tw manipulation #cw manipulation #cw sui ideation #cw sui attempt #minors do not interact #mdni

1K notes · View notes

earthtooz · 1 year

Note

second chance romance with sae. write it.

x : WITH(OUT) :*+ﾟ

in which: after a messy breakup with sae, you find yourself waking up next to him two weeks later, this time just more in love.

warnings: 1.8k words, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, SFW, gn!reader, tooth-rotting fluff with quite a bit of angst, a lot of metaphors here and there i apologise if they don't make sense get on my brainwave (nicely), ooc!sae perhaps uhh lol, bad writing, reblogs appreciated!!

a/n: lets see if tumblr community labels this post... sigh. rip first version u were a champ. this is my official claim to become tumblr's sfw itoshi brothers (separate) writer. i've made progress with rin, it's time to show some (reluctant) love to sae!! i literally only wrote this bc @limitlesshq and i had an agreement.

you wake up due to the rustling beside you, the movement rousing you from your slumber as the world becomes ever so clearer with each millisecond, the drowsy haze wearing off you as you take in your surroundings.

there’s a white ceiling overhead, the mattress beneath you feels like a cloud, and you can’t remember when your sheets turned a shade of gray. no- scratch that, you can’t remember when your mattress became this soft.

hold on.

this wasn’t your room and the mop of magenta hair lying atop your chest is an indicator of such.

you’re in bed with a soccer star who just so happens to be the ex you messily broke up with two weeks ago. he’s wrapped around you like nothing had ever happened; as if you two were still in love and devoted to one another and hadn’t shouted at each other to the point that your throats were sore for a days afterwards.

you needed to get out of here which was something easier said than done. especially when you had itoshi sae lying on top of you, wrapping you in a vice grip as he sunk further and further into your warmth, chest methodically rising up and down. you want to slap him for being so peaceful in this very moment. that should be you but instead, you’re panicking and trying to avoid another messy scene with your ex.

the fact that said-ex was itoshi sae too… goodness what have you gotten yourself into. you should get out of here before it’s too late.

slowly, you begin to shuffle away, trying to pull yourself away from sae’s grasp.

you’re halfway out when you hear the magenta-haired whine quietly, the sound causing you to turn your head and look at him. it’s to your horror that you’re greeted by a pair of hazy, turquoise eyes, still groggily waking up as sae tries to adjust to his bearings. he blinks a few times, waking up a little more with each flutter.

“where are you going?” he asks, voice hoarse from unuse. his arm tightens ever so slightly around you, pulling you back towards him and completely ruining your efforts.

you’re stunned, unsure of how to respond as sae tucks himself into your chest, breathing you in.

you hate the way you feel your heart lurch in your chest, rapidly beating with the urge to be as close as possible to him. this feels like a life you once knew, especially when his fingers start running up and down your spine, nimbly finding their way under your shirt.

“sae,” you breathe out and his ministrations stop, diverting all of his attention upon you. “i have to go.”

he groans his protest, shaking his head. “why?”

“i just have to.”

“no.”

“what?”

“stay.”

“what?”

“did you not hear me? i said stay.”

just to prove his point a little more, he puts even more of his weight on you, tangling his legs with yours as if rooting you to his mattress. ever so demanding, he is.

the breakup was disastrous and entirely hurtful, wrecking you from the inside out when you woke up the next morning registering the previous night. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so heartbroken and it hurt even more with every trace of sae that remained in your apartment. looking back, perhaps it was a little naive to believe that he was the one for you, that he was your endgame and not simply another lesson to heal from. all that time spent in a relationship, crumbled thanks to an argument that lasted for three hours and ended with a decisive slam of his door.

yet just when you thought you were making process on the journey away from him, sae finds a way to pull you back in.

“i can’t stay,” you whisper, voice already a little shaky.

the magenta-haired looks up at you, apathetic eyes boring into yours. “but why?”

“i just- i just can’t. thank you for letting me stay over but i’m going to go home now-”

fingers thread through yours and sae’s hand pulls yours closer towards him. a pair of warm lips press themself to your skin and linger there as if burning and branding you- all of you, as his.

he then kisses each of your fingers delicately and softly. “don’t go,” he mutters between pecks.

you feel a little breathless. like he’s punched your gut with every piece of gentle affection he plants, twisting the knife he had stabbed in your chest two weeks ago deeper and deeper, reopening the raw wound of hurt and pain with unmatched love.

you need to leave before anything else can happen, before you begin breaking down in front of him.

quickly shuffling away from the athlete, you abruptly pull your hand out of his, throwing the covers off of you. however quick you may have been though, sae is undeniably faster, his hands crossing the distance to pull you back. his strength forces you to sit down once more and you bounce a little from the soft impact. he drapes himself around you again, chin resting on your shoulder.

“let me go,” you plead, putting your hands over his wrists as if trying to pry them off but you feel too much for sae to truly try and resist him. his spell, no matter how hard you try to fight back, is just as potent.

you fear that you may never be immune to his poison.

he begins trailing kisses along your skin, uncharacteristically affectionate. “i can’t,” he begins, voice wavering uncharacteristically, traces of heartbreak evident in his tone. this display of emotion shocks you endlessly and you stop fighting against him, freezing when you feel his breath shudder against your skin.

your heart is thumping heavily, causing your chest to clench.

"stop messing around, we-"

"i'm not messing around just stay," he hushes gently, "please."

you feel the world stop for a second. sae? pleading? he knew how to do that? the prospect of sae beseeching for anything was incredibly unfamiliar and the fact that his voice cracked merely proves how entirely unfamiliar the word was in his vocabulary.

the love you feel for him will choke you before heartache does. unbeknownst to you, a tear begins sliding down your cheek and you don’t feel it until it’s halfway down.

“hey, hey, hey,” the magenta-haired mumbles, catching the tear with his thumb. “don’t cry.”

he sounds so tender and doting it hurts. there’s so much love in the way he’s holding you, pressing himself closer to you with each minute as if he hates the idea of being too far away from you, as if he was trying to make sure that you were still the same love of his life from before he hurt you tremendously, as if he was committing you to memory before he does lose you forever.

but he doesn’t want that. he wants to stay with you. sae doesn’t think he can handle another day without you, that’s why he’s so stubborn to keep you here; to put you under his spell again so that you could feel an ounce of the love he has stored for you. so that this love has somewhere to go before it inevitably ruins him, punishing him for being so stupid.

“i’m sorry,” whispers sae hurriedly. “i’m sorry, i’m so sorry pretty, don’t cry.”

glancing away from him, you wipe away any remaining tears, inhaling deeply as to try and collect yourself with whatever willpower you had left.

"i need to leave," you murmur, not entirely meaning it.

"no you don't," he answers, entirely meaning it. "just stay until breakfast or something."

wordlessly, you fall back in his grasp, leaning into the athlete when you feel rapid beating against your arm. that’s when you realise that it wasn’t your racing heart… it was his.

giving in to his desires, you tuck your legs back up on the bed and he manoeuvres you, practically cradling you whilst you find solace in his neck with your arms wrapped around his torso. here, you feel whole again.

you’ve lived life with sae and without sae and you now know well enough to prefer the former. something tells you he feels the same too.

“are you going to stay for breakfast?” he asks after a few minutes of simply soaking up the other’s presence. glancing up at him, his expression remains beautifully neutral, illuminated perfectly by the bright morning light that seeps through his windows. he’s radiant, gorgeous as ever.

you hum against his skin. “i’m not too sure. i was going to leave before breakfast.”

“let’s go back to sleep then. i’m not hungry anymore.”

amused by his request, you agree nonetheless and sae is able to move the both of you around to the same positions you had woken up in with you on your back and him on top of you. the soccer player then pulls you closer and throws his leg over your hips- something he does to keep you in your spot so you won’t slip away from him again.

you won’t. you don’t want to leave and live a life without him.

“are we back together?” you hesitantly ask. the question floats into the tranquil air, afraid to break whatever quiet, ecstatic haze you were both in but you need to know.

“will you take me back?” the soccer player counters, surprisingly shy and unsure, so unlike the arrogant sae you’re used to. he’s putting all the cards on your table despite knowing what he wants because although he wants to be with you for eternity and a little longer after that, it’s up to you to decide whether or not he deserves such a paradise.

sae can only hope you’re merciful.

“i want to. i miss ‘us’, i miss you.”

he immediately feels a heavy weight lift itself off and the exhale the magenta-haired lets out communicates his magnitude of relief. fate has saved him today.

“good.” is all he says as your hands rise to the nape of his neck, playing with the hair there. “be here when i wake up.”

“so demanding,” you joke with a smile, “but okay.”

as sae dozes off once more, you take the time to scan around his room once more whilst trying to lull yourself into dreamland as well.

his decor had always been rather plain and it didn’t change until you started dating. remnants of you have been lingering around his place and you’re surprised he didn’t get rid of them the night you left out of rage. a little nanodroid that you gave him of a character from an anime you both like sits on his shelf, there’s that little fake plant on his desk, and there are still photos of you two on his dresser.

he used to only have one pillow and the only reason he bought more was so you could sleep over comfortably. you don’t think too hard about the lingering smell of sae’s shampoo on the pillows that you had previously claimed as ‘yours’.

shifting a little so that you were comfortable, you gaze up at sae’s ceilings once more. a gentle smile makes its way to your face before you doze off peacefully knowing that two hearts have found their way back home.

#tumblr will di3 by my blade.#sae x reader #blue lock x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #sae fluff #itoshi sae fluff #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock

5K notes · View notes

etheries1015 · 5 months

Note

Because I have favorism towards the fae myself (And I'm sorry this is suggestive)

Remember Malleus' voice line about touching his hornes? Now, reader just touches them whenever they can be reached (like when Malleus is using their lap as a pillow) or stroking his tail whenever it's wrapped around Reader. Without realizing it's doing things to him.

Oh my gosh. Don't apologize for suggestive content, I love that shit. Feed me more of it. Heuheuheuheu.

Feeding a Faes hidden desires

Featuring: Malleus Draconia <3

General warnings: Gender neutral reader

18+ / suggestive content minors please don't interact~

It was difficult for Malleus Draconia to open up to people, he had to be the face of pure perfection for the sake of his kingdom. Every action he took, every word he said, would reflect upon Briar Valley and put his position as a prince in either light of greatness, or foolishness. The former was not an option for Malleus Draconia. He was given the best of the best when it came to his studies and academics, except, unfortunately, sex ed.

He understood the bare minimum of course, for reproduction was important for keeping the bloodline of the Draconias strong. What he was not well versed in, however, was the feeling of lust that came with reproduction. He never knew it could feel so... dirty.

When he had agreed to allow you to touch his horns when you insisted, he had no clue what kind of...desires this would stir up in him without realizing.

You had asked the draconic fae to touch his horns and his tail, and he spent a few times urging you otherwise in fear of harming you in some way. Yet it did not take him very long to feel curious and begin to imagine how your hands would feel upon his horns and extremities, starting out purely out of curiosity and the desire to be closer to you.

The first time you touched his horns was in the comfort of the lounge, he bent over for you to touch and feel them freely before being interrupted by Sebeks outraged cries of blasphemy. Since the moment your soft fingertips pressed against the roughness of his obsidian horns, he felt his body shudder at the contact, and something in him he decided to ignore screamed in his mind that it was perhaps a...dangerous endeavor. He had managed to suppress himself from such thoughts and desires, even allowing you to (on occasion) touch his horns and tail at your request. Never for too long, for when the thoughts returned he made a quick excuse to end the session. He wanted to respect you and your soft touch- not sully the romantic gesture with lustful thoughts.

He was often searching for your touch in many different ways, in hugs, cuddles, gentle kisses, holding hands...yet a few months and almost a year, he could feel himself become far more greedier. Malleus would notice the slight changes in himself when you would reach up to grab hold of something on a shelf, the way your shirt rode up your stomach ever so slightly, the way your hands would draw circles around the title page to get a feel for the book, he almost felt himself envious of the piece of literature. He told himself not to lose control, to hold himself together like a proper gentlefae, allowing you to only touch his draconic features on the rare occasion he felt he could keep himself properly composed.

Yet now there you were, in your room in Ramshackle dorm, sitting upon the lap of your lover gently caressing his smooth black horns absentmindedly. It was a comfortable atmosphere for you, being held lovingly by your tall fae significant other in silence while pouring your love and affection into your little pets upon his horns. You muttered a "beautiful..." before leaning up slightly...

and placing a kiss upon his horns.

Malleus let out a sudden high-pitched "urgh!" of surprise, his tail squeezing your waist slightly. Your eyebrows raised in shock, pulling away to look at your now flushed lover, feeling a bit of...excitement from down below. He suddenly removed his tail from your waist and seemed to want to move away from you, until you pushed your body on top of his own, straddling his waist and feeling his arousal between your thighs.

"I-i'm-" He gulped and let out a low moan, his hands shaking hesitantly mid air, not certain where he should place them, "I'm sorry- this is incredibly unbecoming of a king-" You hushed him with a rushed kiss and shook your head, the kiss lasting only a moment prior to you pulling away face as flushed as his and forehead pressed against his own.

"It's natural," You comforted him, "Do you...like it when I touch your horns, Mal...?" You hesitated your inquiry, his response a simple and slow nod giving you confidence to move your hands back to his horns and begin to rub them intimately. You felt his body twitch below you and his tail wrapped itself around your thigh, voice trembling. You hadn't seen the fae prince so shaken up before, so uncertain, so vulnerable. Only in front of you would he allow himself to lose such control.

"Are you...are you certain? I haven't any...experience," He muttered against the crook of your neck, arms wrapping around your body and hugging you tightly as if to console himself.

"It's okay," you murmured, hands removing themselves from his horns much to his whining displeasure of the sudden warmth disappearing from them, before shuddering once more as your attention shifted to his tail. Your finger trailed the scales and you felt him twitch between your thighs through his pants as his excitement stirred with every touch you placed upon his extremities.

"I...want it too," You purred.

Malleus's desire gauge was now at 100%

and you had no idea what you had just gotten yourself into.

~~~~

Masterlist

#Twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #malleus #malleus x reader #Malleus draconia #Malleus draconia x reader #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #twisted wonderland fanfictions #twst fanfics

2K notes · View notes

misslovasstuff · 5 months

Text

Writing prompt: Them taking about their lover

op men x fem!reader

with: Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, Buggy.

author’s note: oh to be described by hot pirates that would die for me hehe. Enjoy ~

please support me here (⁎⁍̴̛ᴗ⁍̴̛⁎)：ko-fi

Sanji:

“Ah, - he rests his elbows on the table, pupils dilated and somehow taken the form of an heart as his face rests on his palms. - she…”

The moment you are mentioned in the conversation, Sanji completely melts. His mind now travels distant lands where he imagines you and his surroundings become dust.

“She completely devastates me. - he closes his eyes and starts describing you. - Eyes that lure me in even with the shortest of glance, a smile that determines my fate, the touch of those hands that are grown among prickles of roses and yet have remained so soft that when caressing my skin so gently, I feel like I am healed from everything that has hurt me. Ah, for my love I could talk for hours. She… she is someone I thought I could ever meet. A miracle.”

Zoro

He puts his sake down for a moment, eyes lowered as he looks down whilst thinking. Suddenly he chuckles and shakes his head.

“That woman will be the death of me. - Zoro says, leaning against the chair with a sigh and a smile. - She’s an open book, easy to understand, at least for me. The way she smiles and lightens up every time she sees me… it warms my heart. I hear my name falling out her lips and my whole body just shivers from the sound of her voice. Sometimes while I’m training she’ll walk by to visit me. Those are the times I cherish a lot since we don’t get to be alone together for a long time. Small pecks she gives me during the day, notes that she sticks to my swords, lipstick marks on my clothes…- his pushes his head back, staring at the ceiling as he covers his bashful face. - What a woman she is… I can never get enough of her.”

Luffy

“Ah, she’s amazing! - his eyes shine brightly at the mention of your name. - we have known each other for a while now.”

Luffy smiles, voice deepening as his cheeks turn slightly pink.

“We met as she tried to save my life. That type of courage, I’ve seen only in a few people. - he begins explaining. - Anyone that looks at her can feel how genuine she is: her kindness… she has helped so many people and yet fails to see how she has helped me the most by opening my heart to so many new experiences. I don’t know what it is, perhaps I’m always too full when I look at her and my stomach feels heavy, my eyes get fixated on her as she watches over the horizon, the one I used to observe but now I completely ignore it, as if I’ve found something more beautiful to look forward to.”

Buggy

“Uh?? Why would you ask me about her?”- with his voice high pitched eyebrow raised, Buggy is taken a bit aback but soon calms down his protective instinct. - Well, there’s no reason for you to know but I’ll say it anyways because I’m so proud of my girl.”

He smirks, crossing his legs as he sits comfortably whilst beginning his description:

“A total babe, tall and curvy, so beautiful that my hands shake upon first touching her. - his eyes soften a bit, so does his voice. - Her laugh is the most precious thing ever in my world. She chuckles at my jokes and makes me laugh too. Not only is she fun, but my sweetheart is my biggest support. There is no one who believes in me like her. And… if I can become the man that she hopes I can be, then I could make her the happiest, like she makes me. A man like me saw her and truly believed that I had found the treasure that was meant for me and I’m willing to guard her with my life.”

1K notes · View notes

honeydjarin · 6 months

Text

MOUSE IN THE KITCHEN

OPLA SANJI X SHORT!READER

Luffy isn’t the only one with a penchant for sneaking into the kitchen.

request: Hiii, if you want to I'd like to request a Sanji x short reader, where they try and help him out in the kitchen but can't reach anything. No pressure, just wondering

genre: fluff

word count: 2,000

a/n: normally I avoid any sort of specific physical features in my fics in order to make them as inclusive as possible, but as someone who must climb the shelves at the grocery store in order to reach anything, this request spoke to me. This one is a little silly and nothing but fluff. I hope you enjoy!

It’s late. The sun sank below the horizon long ago, leaving no trace of the adventures and games that took place during the daylight hours. Everyone else on the Going Merry is asleep. You really should be sleeping too, and you had been, not too long ago.

You don’t know what it is that stirred you from your slumber. Perhaps some noise as the ship rocks on lazy waves, or a crew mate talking just a bit too loud in their sleep. It doesn’t matter, really. What does matter is the thoughts that worm their way into your mind the longer you lie awake. Thoughts of something light, something sweet, something to satiate a craving, your body convinced it’s time for breakfast despite your mind knowing dawn is hours away. It doesn’t take long for the hollow ache in your stomach to drive you from the comfort of your hammock and up towards the galley.

You know the kitchen on the ship well. You know which floorboards creak and which are safe to step on, where the chef hides traps for Luffy and how to circumvent them, where all of the ingredients to satiate your sweet tooth are hiding.

Just thinking about the reason for your intimate knowledge of the ship’s kitchen is enough to send heat racing up your neck and settling beneath your cheeks. You press your fingers to the skin where your burning blood pools beneath the surface, taking a moment to relish in the sugar sweet feeling of a simple crush—a single name swirling through your brain is all it takes to leave you giggling quietly in the night.

Sanji, the newest member of the Straw Hat Crew. Sanji, the one who will never let another go hungry, not even a stranger. Sanji, the man with sun soaked hair and a honey dipped tongue.

Sanji.

When the chef first joined the crew, you admired him. He was caring and steady, he knew what he believed in. With his handsome looks, quick wit, and open flirtations, it didn’t take long for that admiration to slip into something that felt sweetly like affection. You couldn’t help but want to spend more time with the cook, hoping to join him in the activities that bring him the most joy so that you might better understand him. It didn’t take long for you to become nearly as familiar with the galley as he is.

You step into the kitchen, closing the door quietly behind you. You leave the lights off, not wanting to risk anyone else catching you in the galley (or getting the idea to grab a snack themselves). Instead, you stand in the dark, waiting for your eyes to adjust. Moonlight spills through the windows of the room, bright enough to see by, if you’re patient.

It isn’t long before you’re able to move again, walking along a familiar path towards where Sanji stores all things sugary.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that you’re doing something you shouldn’t. Like if you have to sneak around then you’re in a place you don’t belong. This is Sanji’s space, cataloged and organized to best suit his needs and ensure the crew has enough supplies to last between islands. It feels strange to be in the kitchen without the sound of his laughter or the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove top.

Sanji’s presence is the piece that makes this space feel so comfortable. Without him, it feels too large, hollow. The galley has no life without its chef. You never really thought about how the kitchen would feel without him in it, and can’t help but hope it isn’t a feeling you become used to.

You know if you wake up the cook he will make something for you. He would rub the sleep from his eyes, only half succeeding, before asking what he could make to help satiate your craving with a smile. You would feel guilty the whole time.

It’s better to sneak through the galley for something you can find on your own than to disturb Sanji’s sleep.

The first thing you search for is chocolate. You crawl onto the countertop, balancing on your knees as your feet dangle over the edge, before opening the cabinet in front of you. You eye the chocolate chips, the miniature sweets sitting at a level seemingly so easy for the rest of the crew to grab. You doubt any of the others would have to climb to reach them.

Unfortunately, the only chocolate on the shelf is unsweetened. The lack of added sugar may be perfect for baking, but they won’t be sweet enough for your taste on their own.

You begin to drop down from the countertop, fully intending to continue your search for the perfect treat. Your feet drop to the ground quietly, and you land in an almost crouch. Perfect, the ship is silent, as it should be. You straighten up, intending to continue your search, but your knees, still tight from your recent slumber, crack as you stand. The sound rings out in the otherwise silent kitchen like a gunshot.

Maybe your creaking joints wouldn’t be a problem in a normal kitchen, but Sanji, who has ears attuned to any slight sound coming from the Galley (thanks to Luffy’s many attempts to raid the space at odd hours for food), surely heard the pop in his sleep. You may as well have knocked down all of the pots and shattered all of the dishes.

It isn’t long before the sound of hurried footsteps and frustrated grumbling reaches your ears. The door to the galley slams open, lights flickering on just a moment after, leaving you squinting as your eyes adjust to the room once more.

“Luffy, I swear if you touched any of the food I’ll—oh.” Sanji’s voice carries through the kitchen, his accent thicker than normal, sleep still clinging to his words. Your name rolls off his tongue, and you think it sounds sweeter in his sleep-addled voice than any chocolate could taste.

“Sorry, Sanji. I didn’t mean to wake you. I was just a little hungry,” you confess.

“You could have woken me up,” he says, just like you knew he would. “I’d have been happy to cook something for you.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. You deserve to rest. Especially when you already wake up so early each morning to make breakfast.”

Sanji hums, stepping farther into the kitchen. He looks more awake now than he did when he first arrived. His eyes don’t stray from your own as he speaks, no longer concerned about the state of the galley.

“For you, love, it’s never a bother.” The smile he offers you sends your heart fluttering in your chest. “Anyway, I’m awake now. What would you like to eat?”

He’s too good to you, too gentle. How could your heart ever stand a chance?

“I was just planning on eating a little chocolate, but it seems like there's only the unsweetened kind right now.”

“Ah, of course. Only something sweet would be fitting for my sweetheart.”

Your breath catches in your throat. His. He called you his.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the growing grin that spreads on your lips as you nearly melt from his words. The warmth blossoming in your chest will surely turn you into a puddle on the floor, and then Sanji will know just how much his words affect you (if he doesn’t know already).

“Can we make something with chocolate in it?” you ask.

“We?” Sanji repeats, as if he didn’t expect you to help him in this task. His gaze softens, eyes gleaming with something like affection, before adding. “Of course we can. How do strawberry and chocolate hand pies sound? I picked up some fresh jam at the last port.”

“It sounds perfect,” you say. It’s far more than you hoped to find during your late night search. When you got out of bed, you never would have guessed what kind of sweet you would find in the kitchen. You definitely didn’t expect to spend time baking with Sanji.

The two of you work comfortably together, only speaking when Sanji provides specific instructions or when you need clarification. The hazy fog of sleep still hovers over the both of you, even if you’re both awake enough now to function.

“Could you grab the chocolate chips for me?” Sanji asks.

It’s a simple request, one you can easily complete. You know where he keeps the chocolate chips, the unsweetened treat seeming much more appealing now that they’re going to be baked into something.

You make your way back over to the counter, situating yourself below the cabinet where the chocolate is stored. Then, you place your hands on the cool surface, preparing to make the climb. You’re certain Sanji knew this was the path necessary for you to take to reach the ingredient too. There’s no way for you to reach the chocolate chips without being higher up.

As you jump, using the force of your arms to help pull yourself up towards the counter just like you’ve done in other kitchens many times before, an unexpected force settles on your shoulders, pushing your feet back towards the ground.

“None of that, sweetheart. There will be no climbing on the countertops in my kitchen,” Sanji reprimands. He’s gentle in his scolding, the uptick of his lips and gleam in his eye letting you know he’s not really mad. “Sorry, I thought they were a bit lower.”

He doesn’t seem sorry.

You open your mouth to protest against what could only be meant as a jab about your height, but only a squeak comes out. Sanji’s warmth seeps into your back as he presses close, the shape of his hand burning into your hip as it settles there. You can feel the way his body stretches as he reaches up, leaning further into you, before easily grabbing the bag that seemed so far out of your reach. Any words you might have had to tell off the man for doing something for you when you could easily do the task yourself (as long as you could climb on the counter) fizzle out.

Sanji doesn’t look at you as he reaches for the chocolate, but the easy smile on his lips morphs into a lazy smirk. His thumb rubs slow, intentional circles where his hand remains steady on your hip, as if he was soothing a startled animal, coaxing you to stay close instead of running away, something you just might have done if he wasn’t purposefully grounding you while your thoughts soared.

Oh no, you think. He knows.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Sanji was already aware of your feelings for him—you’ve always worn your heart on your sleeve—but you had tried not to make your feelings for the chef too obvious.

Sanji pulls the chocolate chips down, but he doesn’t step away. He still holds you close as he bends, his face lowering until it’s right beside yours. Then, without warning, his lips are pressed to the curve of your cheek.

The kiss is quick, feather-light, but you’re certain he can feel the way your blood burns just beneath the surface of your skin, his quiet mumble of so warm the only confirmation you need, even if you weren’t meant to hear.

“Sorry, sweetheart, I just couldn’t help myself.” Before you can react, Sanji steps away from you, taking you in for only a moment longer before turning back to the task at hand. With how smoothly he acted, there’s no way he hadn’t planned that little stunt he pulled.

He definitely knows.

Sanji is already placing the hand pies in the oven by the time you’re finally able to move again, and you can’t help but feel almost frustrated that the chef didn’t give you a chance to return his affection.

You’re left waiting impatiently as he sets the timer, the miniature pies now the last thing on your mind. Sanji doesn’t seem to understand—you’re craving something sweet, and as far as you’re concerned, the sweetest thing on this ship is him.

a/n: thank you for reading〜♡

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla sanji x you #opla x you #opla #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action

1K notes · View notes

zayneslady · 3 months

Text

summary: it's been a while since the last time you saw him, but you missed him so terribly.

warnings: angst/comfort. Happy endings for the win *sobs* Pt. 2 of these scenarios

characters: Zayne, Rafayel, Xavier x reader (separately)

a/n: I wanted to apologize. I got some comments saying that perhaps I wrote them a bit too ooc and that they wouldn't do something like this, so I was thinking maybe I should step out from writing these; I'm probably not understanding the characters very well. I'm really sorry! I had this one written already, so this is probably going to be the last post I make! Thank you for your support! In only a couple of days you guys were so amazing and loving, I'm super moved and I don't deserve you all at all ❤️

classification: scenarios

tag list: many of you asked me to tag you in the second part, I hope you guys like it! 💕

@biitchyberry @rosaryia @lcheerymotion @mo0nforme

ZAYNE ❄️

It's been four weeks since your argument with Zayne. The first days had been like hell. You had already tasted the honey of a relationship with the person you liked the most and loved the most. You wanted more of him, you needed more. You felt anxious without him, like you had become addicted to his kisses, his gentle touch, and the sweet words he whispered in your ears. You missed him more than you dared to admit.

The days passed slowly, each second seemed to last an eternity. When you got home you felt the emptiness of his presence and you felt like dying, but life continued on, and eventually you got used to being without him. The pain was still present, but more bearable as time kept its course.

You had stopped frequenting the places you knew he liked for fear of running into him. The dessert shop, the cafe near the hospital, the night stands near the library. You even avoided getting sick so you wouldn't have to go to the hospital. Your life was limited to going to work and coming straight home, with occasional visits to buy groceries.

You would never have thought that you would have to live a life again without Zayne and only because he didn't know how to separate his friendships from his romantic partner. So smart, but so stupid at the same time.

You sighed, returning to the present and the food you were making; it was too late when you realized it, but unconsciously you were making one of his favorite dishes. You weren't going to waste the food, so you just carried on trying not to think much about it.

“Now, where did I put–,” you stopped, surprised by the sudden knocking on your door. You frowned, you were not expecting anyone, but the knocking continued once more and you sighed, turned off the stove. “I'm coming.”

You regretted opening the door. Opening just a crack to see who it was, your heart fluttered in your chest as if there was a small caged bird inside it. Zayne was standing in front of you. He looked ridiculously tired, more than you'd ever seen him. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were deep, his skin did not look radiant and healthy as always and his eyes did not shine like emeralds.

Your hands were sweating and your insides were churning. "Are you okay?" You asked with a broken voice. Zayne shook his head and he fainted, but with a gasp, you quickly wrapped an arm around his waist and tried to keep him upright. “Zayne! Hey, what's happening?”

Zayne didn't answer you, and just leaned on you. Not knowing what to do, you dragged him inside and carefully guided him to your room. Once there, you laid him down on your bed, he looked weak.

“Zayne? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”

He mumbled your name and your heart raced. “I'm… I am sorry,” he said as he finally passed out. You gasped, but soon heard the soft snores you were so used to.

Was he that exhausted? And what was he doing at your house? You frowned, fighting back the stinging sensation in your eyes as you tried to hold back some tears. He really always appeared to stir everything inside you. You had already accepted your life without him, but here he was. You sighed heavily, taking off Zayne's shoes and covering him with a blanket.

Your eyes couldn't help but admire him. Even though he was tired, he still looked as handsome as ever. It seemed like a dream, an illusion that would disappear at any moment. You wanted it to happen. You wanted him to disappear, but at the same time, you wanted to take him in your arms and kiss his face. But no, clearing your throat, you grabbed an extra blanket and left the room, closing the door behind you. It was better to let him rest so he could leave as soon as he got up.

The next morning you woke up to soft steps. Sitting up and whining a little after sleeping on the couch, you saw Zayne coming out from your bedroom. His hair was messy and he was rubbing one of his eyes like a little child, something warm spread across your chest and a smile tried to spread your lips, but you stopped it. He seemed more rested, the bags under his eyes had diminished considerably and his skin looked a little more alive.

“Zayne.”

He seemed a bit startled as he looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “Hello… I am sorry I fell asleep.”

You hummed, folding the blanket. “Haven't you been sleeping well?" You didn't want to sound worried, but you were.

“I haven't… I constantly have nightmares and I've been working over time… a lot more."

“Why?”

“Because I can't stop thinking about you,” he said and despair filled his eyes. “You have no idea how much I've missed you. I can't sleep, I can't eat, I have been working nonstop so I can have my mind occupied, but you're always there, in the back of my head.”

Don't cry. Don't cry!

“And what exactly do you want me to do about it, Zayne?” You said coldly, wanting to get over with this.

Zayne approached you and you couldn't move as he took your hands. “Please, please. Give me another chance. I swear. I swear in my life that I do not have feelings for her. I just… I was just stupid and took you for granted. Please, my love, please.”

Tears began to well up in your eyes and you cried even harder as Zayne grabbed your face. "N-No, don't touch me.”

“Please. How can I show you I truly want you? Do you want me to stop talking to her? I'll do it. I'll do it, so please. Just… please. I can't live without you.” His words sounded sincere.

His eyes were glassy and the pain on his face was evident, but your heart still hurt. How did you know that he really wouldn't leave you as a second option anymore? You couldn't even tell him to stop talking to Miss Hunter, you knew this was just Zayne's fault.

“Zayne… Zayne you're hurting me so much.”

“I know. I know I am and I am terribly sorry for this. I love you. I truly love you.”

You also loved him, so much.

“... If this ever happens again, Zayne… I won't forgive you another time. Remember that.”

His green eyes shone with happiness as he pulled you into a tight hug. You hugged him back, the tips of your fingers tingling as you felt his warmth, the tip of your nose digging into the crook of his neck, you breathed deeply, enjoying his scent.

“You're on trial, Zayne.”

Zayne chuckled and he nodded. “Yes. You won't regret me, I promise you.”

RAFAYEL 🐠

Life was boring without him. He was the spark and the spice in your days. With him, every day seemed like a small adventure, but now that you no longer saw him, the days seemed dark and lifeless. You didn't even remember how much time had passed since that day. One week? Three days? Two months? You weren't sure and, honestly, you tried not to think about it too much because, even though you missed him, the pang of pain in your heart almost made you gasp for air every single time you recalled every moment with him. It was almost as if his bodyguard had also been there, on every date with Rafayel, for all of your conversations were about her.

He was full of praise for her. He named each of her virtues and laughed affectionately at her defects. He didn't accept anyone claiming that they were better than her or stronger, because his precious bodyguard was the strongest and the bestest. Just thinking about it made you feel tears filling your eyes. You didn't want to remember any of it, but as you held your phone with your thumb hovering over the dial button, you couldn't stop thinking about how miserable Rafayel made you feel, even when he also made you feel like the most loved person in the world.

When he didn't have his mouth full of his wonderful bodyguard, Rafayel showered you with affection. His kisses, his hugs, and his caresses all felt full of love and tenderness. His beautiful eyes looked at you sweetly, as if you were the most precious thing that ever existed on earth. He liked to tease you and make you laugh and he always said that you were like a muse for all his paintings: The sparkle in your eyes, the color of your hair, the texture of your skin, the curves of your body, everything was inspiration.

How could he be so cruel and loving all at the same time? Poor bodyguard, you even didn't like her although she hadn't done anything wrong, as far as you knew.

Sighing, you finally tapped on the green button and your heart raced faster and faster at every beep coming from the other side of the line. Would he answer you? Was he… with her? Was he busy with one of his paintings? What if-

His voice calling your name surprised you, making you jump. “I’m here! Hi!” he sounded out of breath and your cheeks blushed. “Hmm, h-how are you d-doing?”

“Rafayel…,” you took a deep breath. “I… have some clothes at your place. Could I stop by later to get them?”

“YES! I… I mean… yes. I'll- I'll be here all day. You can stop by at any time you want.”

“... Right. Then, see you there, Rafayel.”

You let out a long sigh after hanging up. You had forgotten how wonderful his voice was and the way he pronounced your name. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. You were going to see him, you were really going to come again, but you shouldn't be excited. What if he and his bodyguard were dating? The thought made your stomach twist and you decided it was best to leave immediately. The quicker you finish this, the better.

As always, the door was open, but you didn't immediately enter, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing against your ribcage. You didn't want to see him.

Taking a deep breath, you gently pushed the door open and you were greeted with that aroma that you had missed so much. The smell of acrylic paint, the sea and Rafayel's scent. You couldn't help but take a long breath- this exquisite smell felt like home. Your eyes watered a little, but you tried to stay calm as you walked deeper into the spacious house.

“R-Rafayel? Are you here? "You heard a gasp from the room and in a second, Rafayel appeared in front of you. Ah, he looked as wonderful and beautiful as always. His gorgeous eyes were wide, looking you up and down as his mouth stretched into a shy smile. You wanted to hug him. “The door… was open so I just- I'm sorry.”

“No! That's okay! I… I left it open for you!”

You nodded. “I see… do you mind if I just…”

“No, go ahead, please.” You excuse yourself as you made your way to his room, as you passed by him you felt your legs tremble and you gasped in surprise when he suddenly took your hand.

“Rafayel, what-

“Please, forgive me,” he begged, his eyebrows furrowed in a painful expression. “I was absolutely wrong, you were so right. I was stupid and careless and hurt you so badly.”

“Rafayel… I just came for my clothing, let me g-

“Please!” He hugged you and you went stiff. “Please, please,” he sobbed in your ear.

“Are you crying?”

He nodded. “I can't live another second without you. I can't paint anymore. I feel like a piece of me has been taken away, I live half and barely. I really, really do not have feelings for my bodyguard. You're the only one I can think about.”

“Then why-

“I just… I was just stupid, I didn't mean anything to hurt you, I swear! When I said I missed her, what I wanted to say is that I wanted to train with her, I would never make you train, that's too dangerous,” he started to explain in a rush. “When I told you about the candies, it's because she gave me some amazing chocolate I wanted to gift you and then-

“Rafayel-

“Please. Just this once, I swear,” he said, finally showing his reddened face, tears streaming down his face. You gulped, reaching up to clean his tears away and he whined. “I wasn't there to wipe your tears, I am so sorry.”

That made you burst into tears. That's right, you really wanted him to wipe your tears. He gently cupped your cheeks and his thumbs brushed against your cheeks, catching all of those tears falling from your pretty eyes.

“You can break up with me if I do something like that again! But please… just this once. I love you so much. I really do.”

You looked at him, His eyes were still wet and some tears were still falling down his cheeks. Maybe…

“Just this once, Rafayel… I won't forgive anything like this ever again.” He beamed and leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss, but you covered his mouth, frowning slightly. “I'm still mad at you.”

He blinked and gently smiled behind your hand before taking it in his. “Of course, I'll prove myself to you, beautiful creation.”

XAVIER ⭐

You couldn't sleep. It's been two weeks since you last slept properly. Two weeks ago you were in Xavier's arms and he held you lovingly, whispering words of comfort in your ears. You weren't sure why, but being around Xavier always made you feel relaxed, a little sleepy, but never bored. You loved spending lazy times with him, taking naps and frolicking in bed, giggling like fools and giving each other soft, tender kisses.

With his warmth and love it was not difficult to fall asleep at night, he always wanted to sleep so that tranquility that emanated from him was enough to relax you and make you sleep throughout the whole night. In the mornings you felt rejuvenated and full of life and seeing his sleepy smile was like living in a dream.

You felt your bottom lip quiver into a pout. You missed him too much. You never thought he would behave that way. Had you never really been important to him? If he wanted to be with his partner so much, why had he even agreed to go out with you in the first place?

“Agh! I hate you Xavier!” You cried, banging your fists against the table in your kitchen. “Why did you let me fall in love with you?” Maybe you really had gone crazy, talking to the table like that.

There was no time for this. It was almost dark and you still needed to go buy some groceries for your dinner. You struggled out of your house, so tired and dragging your feet. You wanted to sleep... with Xavier. You wanted to feel his warmth. But... what if he now wrapped his partner in his arms? Your cheeks turned red and, trying to avoid thinking about it, you hurried to catch the bus.

You found a seat near the door and next to a young man, there weren't as many people as you imagined and as the bus started to go you felt your eyes heavy. Maybe... you could sleep for a few minutes? The store wasn't far away, so just a few minutes... just a couple of minutes…

You heard your name being called between clouds. From far away. Over and over and over. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.

“Hmm?” You opened your eyes and gasped, How long had it been?! Where were you? And... why was your head...? Had you fallen asleep on someone's shoulder?! "Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" You said, raising your head only to find that the young man next to you... "Xavier?!"

The hunter blinked, his eyes avoided yours for a second before looking directly at you and nodding a small greeting. Had he been there next to you the whole time? You could barely notice what was happening around you with how tired you were, but, strangely, you felt very good. It seemed like he really was the cure for all your ills. You chuckled softly, shaking your head. Xavier looked at you confused, tilting his head to the side like a little bird.

“I'm sorry, Xavier. I didn't know you were there,” you jumped, “but wait, where are we?!” Checking outside the window, you could tell you were far away from the store now.

“We're almost at my place,” he said gently and the alarms in your head set off. His partner... didn't she live in the apartment below?! Oh no. Before, you had no problem staying at Xavier's house, but... if they were really in a relationship…

“I gotta go,” you said, seeing the next bus station. It was already dark outside.

“Where are you going?” Xavier asked and you frowned.

“What do you mean? Back home. I only wanted to go to the store, but I fell asleep as you could see… Now it's even dark. Thankfully it's not raining,” you were babbling to yourself as you waited to arrive at the next stop, when you finally did, you got up. “Sorry about that, Xavier. Goodnight.”

"Now... The next bus…," you mumbled checking the bus's schedule. "10 minutes? Lucky~"

“I'll go with you.”

You couldn't help but squeal and jump when you heard his voice right behind you. Turning around, you saw him standing there, as tall as he was and as bright as the stars.

“I'll take you home. It's dark. Something could happen.”

You rolled your eyes. "What could happen, I'm only going home.”

“Some witnesses have seen wanderers in the area. I can't let you go alone."

You sat on the bench, arms crossed, Xavier sitting next to you. "Ah, that's true. I'm not strong like your... Forget it." Your cheeks turned red. Very well! Keep opening your big mouth! Xavier didn't say anything, but you could feel his gaze on you and the blush on your cheeks traveled to the tips of your ears.

Silence reigned between you. You could feel him, his warmth, he was so close to you, you could reach out and touch his knee. Your eyes felt heavy, you wanted to hug him.

“I am sorry,” he suddenly said and you thought you imagined it but then he repeated it. “I am sorry for what I said the other day.” You turned to look at him and flinched when he saw his bright eyes looking sad and red. “I don't know what I was thinking. Talking like that in front of my girlfriend. Acting like I didn't want to have been there with you, but you're the only person I want close to me. I don't like nor have feelings for my coworker, I only want and need you.”

He gently wiped a tear from your rosy cheek, his touch was electrifying.

“You haven't been sleeping well.” You didn't answer, but he continued. “I haven't been able to sleep either. I keep recalling that day and seeing your crying face, I can't stand it… please forgive me.”

He took your hands and you finally looked up at him, your eyes widening as you saw a small tear fall down his cheek.

“I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I still beg you, I beg you to give me another chance. I promise I'll do better. Something like this will never happen again. I was an idiot."

You frowned, “you were an idiot. Do you have any idea how you made me feel? It's hard to believe you love me.”

He nodded, listening to you carefully. “I know it's hard to believe, but please let me prove it to you, let me show you how much I love you, please. I can't be without you anymore, my star. I need you, otherwise I'll go crazy. Please.”

You sobbed and Xavier gently pulled you close to him. Wrapping you between his warm arms. You tried to pull away, but he didn't let you and soon you melted in his embrace, crying into his work clothes.

“Please, give me another chance.”

You nodded softly. Just one more chance. “There's not gonna be a second time,” you warned between sobs and he chuckled, kissing the top of your head.

“I won't need them. I will treasure you as the most valuable thing that you are. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

#love and deepspace #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace rafayel #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #zayneslady #*scenarios

1K notes · View notes

suguruplsr · 6 months

Text

Agoraphilia

featuring.. Toji Fushiguro

✰ ✰ ✰ What's life like for Toji when he's dating a celebrity? A celebrity that just so happens to be you. And of course, life's nice.. but you just can't keep your hands off him. Who cares about paparazzi? Let 'em see.

,, model/influencer! Toji x fem actress reader , fluff + smut w/ small crack , based off “agora hills” by doja cat , toji is referred as a Zenin w/ small angst + comfort about it , PDA , dirty talk & pet names , mentions of sex in public places + limousine scene , mention of fans taking clips of you two kissing/ getting a bit touchy , choking , oral (f & m) , face fucking , riding + unprotected , clit licking , he spanks you once , reader wears makeup , you guys got recorded having sex (only audio + it was non-con) , exhibition kink (reader and toji aren’t that bothered abt anything at all) , it’s a lot pls lemme know if i missed smth <3

↬ 1K Event Masterlist

wc: 3.4k+

- divider @/benkeibear

Toji would say he has a good life. food, expenses always paid, access to practically everything in life, plus a big area to work out (his favorite), nice mansion, clothes, money, cars, and a lovely woman who is the love of his life, you. you’re quite the famous actor, making six figures and playing in multiple series that he makes sure to religiously watch. cuz’ he loves to see his woman on the big screen. and it’s not like he doesn’t work, mostly modeling and unexpectedly becoming an influencer, a good use of his name he’d say. posting workout videos and rating shit with his most honest opinions. there’s definitely complications of his most out of pocket opinions.

and perhaps there are a few things toji could say he doesn’t like about dating a famous person. like your fans. before your relationship was public, those damn losers had no restraints, trying to meet you in random places with any chance they had or getting touchy when you allowed hugs at meet and greets. he hates it even more when they try to touch you while you’re walking through the big crowds at events. like, let a woman be.

there’s other pet peeves, like nosy interviewers or weird directors you ended up working with, only to drop from their cast out of disgust. things any normal person would find annoying. the worst? pda. okay, it isn’t a pet peeve. but he wasn’t expecting someone as private as you to be all over him like you do. at first, he thought it was because maybe you just get bored out and about, but no. you just.. really fucking love him. and his dick of course.

“Somethin' different about you

Love it when he hit and smack too

Baby, let me lick on your tattoos”

“fuck, you’re wild.” toji grins against your lips, pulling away to adore the needy look covering your face. you two were laid in bed, him leaning on the headboard with you on his lap. a place you always find yourself at. you bit your lip, looking up at him with eyes full of want. “yea, just f’you though.” you didn’t understand the exact feeling you have for the large man. it’s more than just love. but it was something that you could only convey with physical affection most of the time.

you just need him, to feel him, to show him just how much you want him. you feel so comfortable with him. you two have been dating for over five months, already smothering each other in love in every way possible. “so corny baby.” toji, shakes his head, yet with an undeniable smile forming as you trace the tattoo that reached from his right shoulder up to his neck.

it was simple, a snake with an arrow shooting through it. you remember on a hot summer night, you two were laying in bed and just learning each other's bodies with small touches and kisses. you were on his chest when toji explained to you the meaning of his tattoo. rebirth and healing. to signify him not only getting away from the toxic environment of his family, but also healing from it. at that time, you didn’t know all the details. you knew what kind of people his relatives are, but to think they could’ve treated their kin in such ways broke your heart.

that day, you, drunkenly, swore to kiss and love that tattoo to hopefully give him the love he didn’t receive.

you still do.

“yea? you love me though.” you grin, making toji hungrily chase after your lips. it was messy, something you two love in your own way. raw and undefined as your lips lock perfectly. you hold onto his shoulders, him pushing you down into the duvet and towering over you. your eyes open slowly as he pulls away with a parting bite on your lips, so dreamily and entranced by him.

“damn right. can’t get enough of you.” he chuckles, sitting back to spread your legs. to think someone like him feels the same way as you. sometimes you think you’re too much, but he might argue the opposite. toji gives a small slap on your thigh, tugging away your panties to bless himself with the sight of your wet pussy. “can you eat me out t’night?” you whine, lifting your legs up as he gets comfortable between them.

his head disappears under, mouth muffled into your skin as he kisses your clit. “was plannin’ on it..” and he gives a fat stripe in your folds, causing you to gasp and lock your legs around his neck. he continues, amused with your ‘response’ and holding your thighs to pull you closer. he licks up and down, no care for your squirming and teasingly rolling the muscle around your bud.

“mm’yea love your big tongue toji~ wan’ it in me!” you whimper, tugging his hair and eliciting a guttural sound from him, his dick twitches in his sweats, tongue entering your pussy that welcomed him in with no qualms. the taste of your juices has toji moaning in your cunny. he gets sloppy, careless with his movements and flexing his tongue as deep as he can, kissing your folds periodically or opening his mouth wider to suck your clit and have you pull his hair harder.

“That's true that I like PDA, take it to a seedy place

Suck a little dick in the bathroom”

“you really into this?” toji grunts as you nod, keeping your crouched balance on your heels and unzipping his pants. amazing really, he thinks. you two were at some function hosted by a friend, snucked in a bathroom that someone is surely going to bang on if you two take too long. “yea, it's somethin’ we shouldn’t do. but fuck, you look so good.” you pout, fishing out his cock and kissing the tip. you don’t want to waste time, melting from the taste of his length and letting it sit on your tongue.

“really? shit.. c’mon baby, just get on your knees. i’ll get you a new pair of tights.” toji grits his teeth when you obey, giving your ‘thanks’ by taking his girth down your throat. you hold one of his thighs, other hand finding the base of his cock and jerking off what you couldn’t reach. it’s almost humiliating how quickly toji’s muscles are tightening, falling weak to the feeling of being so deep in your throat.

you let go of his cock, hands now clutching his thighs, and looking up at him all teary. he knows what you want, for him to just fuck your face and cum down your throat. he’s hit the fucking jackpot.

toji reached down with two hands, mindful of your hair that took so long to do and settling for grabbing the sides of your head. “want me to fuck your throat huh? yea ya do. gonna get rough baby.” he smiles, watching you get closer to him, wanting whatever he’s going to give you. he gives a low moan as he eases himself completely down your throat, you hollow your cheeks expertly, flush against his pubes before he begins moving.

he fucks your throat harshly, holding your head still as you moan around his dick. you look up at him through your blurry eyes, and he’s so handsome. jaw clenched with the veins in his arms popping, he gives one particularly hard thrust, slowing a bit and giving you time to actually suck his cock. the warm cavern of your mouth is just perfect, something that he could never want to get rid of.

“oh shiiit, fuck, fuck, fuck. fuckin’ love your mouth, gonna make me cum baby.” toji blabbers, groans filling the walls as you roll your tongue around him as much as you can. his voice, all deep and raspy, makes your pussy wet. closing your legs tight together and rubbing them to try dealing with the growing heat between your legs.

he pushes his hips forward, making you choke. “sorry baby, j-just gonna— fuck. gonna cum down this throat.” toji moans, looking down at your expression, he almost feels bad for the way he’s ruined your face. but he knows you love it, every single time. there’s loud wet sounds reverberating throughout the rest room. both of you hearing little ‘shlicks’ as spit drips from your lips and coats his cock. you squeeze your eyes tight as when he stops, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants while his dick basically quivers in your mouth.

you can hear the thick lump of cum before it pours down your tongue, pussy throbbing at the salty taste as the warm liquid slides down your throat until it turns into tiny little spurts. opening your eyes, you see toji’s head thrown back, body shaking in pleasure as he gives a drawn out moan. “d-definitely should do that often..” he mumbles.

“Who that man with the big strong hands On her ass in the club with the paps?" Baby, that's you”

‘whose the guy you were dancing with at the club in your recent post?’

you read the question aloud, already feeling giddy once you remember your activities over the weekend. “oh! that’s my boyfriend!” you grin, watching how the comments flowed faster through the insta live. it’s not like you hid him, if anything, you’re just always seen with him. but maybe he’s been mistaken for a bodyguard? you ponder. thinking about the recent comments and articles about you, they’ve never seen his face. well, at least not anywhere around you.

a damn shame. such a handsome man. your, handsome man.

‘yea who is he? he was so big lmao.’

“toji— wait!” you pause yourself before you let your big mouth rant, flipping the phone on the couch as you run through the house. you really hope that by some miracle they weren’t able to hear the name that slipped from your lips. considering you never really talked with the man about publicity, especially with all the extra things PR and management might force onto you.

shaking your head, you open the door of your gym room. if you could even call it just a room, toji was in the middle of his set of planks, headphones on and shirtless with a pair of baggy shorts. you almost let yourself get distracted, eyeing his sweaty form as you walk over to him. how the hell can he be so broad? well, you’re seeing in real time how he does it— but fuck, the mere structure of his neck and shoulders makes you want to wrap your legs around him.

“hey beautiful.” toji grunts, sitting himself up at the sound of his timer ringing through his ears. he slides off the headphones, grabbing the towel you hand to him and taking a sip of his water bottle. you stay silent, biting your cheek as you think about your next words. “what’s wrong?” he sighs, and you immediately cave, giving an exaggerated groan. “okay so maybe i may have just accidentally said you’re my boyfriend on live like three minutes ago and perhaps i could’ve just made a really really big mistake that i kinda want but i was just wondering—“

toji stands up with a chuckle, stopping your small rant with a pat on your head, hand moving down to hold your flustered face. “what’re you tryin’ to say baby?” “i was getting to that. but would you like, want to go public with me? like y’know.. actually tell people we’re dating..” you mumble, looking down as he shrugs. “i thought we already were since ya drag me practically everywhere. but go ahead. i don’t mind.” and you gasp, no way.

but it seems to be yes way from the kiss of affirmation toji gives you on your forehead before you run, more like slide, through your house in glee. getting back to your phone and confirming the wild comments that didnt stop.

“so yea, im dating toji zenin. y’know that hot guy from that one family..”

“Hot News! Actress [Name], popular for her character in — reveals that’s she’s dating the distinguished model, Toji Zenin, a workout influencer who is also a part of the well-known family—“ read more at…

“Front-seat chillin' with the window down I be ten toes down on the dash, gettin' fast food”

“that shit better be f-fucking soundproof..” toji groans as you shuffle his cock out his slacks. giggling with a sweet smile on your face that rivaled the dirty stuff you’ve whispered in his ear the whole ride. you have too much on your mind about your man to think about the partition separating you two from the driver. “it is.. maybe.” you mumur, mindlessly running your thumb along the slit of his cock. it glistened with pre, leaning towards you with small twitches as you greeted it with your lips.

you kiss the tip, purple lipstick stanning the lightly red muscle as you go further down. you have to remind yourself you can’t play with the hefty balls stuck in that stupid clothing, opting for simply pressing on them, knowing that was enough for him to shift, trying to feel the friction more. “fucker better not look at us weird— fuuuck baby, yea, just like that.” toji desperately wants to push your head further down as the warmth of your mouth envelops him.

you’re devilish. doing more that just sucking his cock and getting him off quickly. the image of him getting ready earlier was plaguing your mind, and even just the way he sat across from you ten minutes ago had you salivating. legs spread for freedom as his dark eyes watched you munch on the snacks left on the small table. you can’t get enough toji. but you damn sure are trying by bobbing your head up and down, not moving too fast, lips sucking tightly so he could hear the nasty sounds of spit.

“doin’ so good f’me. you can go a bit deeper, mhm, yea you can.” toji coos, placing a hand on the back of your neck, appreciating the show of your skin and running it comfortably. but it was so big for him to wrap it around your neck, choking you from behind and lifting your head up to see your fucked up face. or to push you further down, listening to the gurgling sounds as you choke on his length. “shit. that’s so hot baby.” he grunts, pulling you up for relief as you hiccup, clearing your throat and looking over at him.

you’re so gorgeous, he think— knows. the way your expensive ass make up was ruined, mascara and eyeliner smudged and he thinks some stained his pants too. but he could care less. especially from the way you kiss his jaw, him tilting it back further so you could paint it in little bits of purple lipstick that was left on your lips. “a few blocks away. please, lemme make you cum toji.” you whine, pouty lips meshing all over his skin as you move onto his lap, rolling up your dress.

thankfully, you were wearing a mini version of your sleeveless dress. allowing you to grind into his length, feeling the fat cock between your thighs. maybe you should post a small review to fashion nova later.

“baby.. fuck, don’t look at me like that.” toji grunts, falling victim to your puppy eyes as you eagerly move to align him with your hole. you take him in one go, both of you moaning as you fall onto his lap with a ‘plop!’. you love it, the familiar sensation of his dick molding your sweet insides, it’s like your comfort place. soothing you into placing your head onto his chest as your mind processes the feeling of him inside you. “makin’ me do all the work huh?” he scoffs, bringing his hands to your sides and starting to bounce you on his cock.

he didn’t have any remorse, you started this. he sets a quick pace that has you clawing his button up, each ‘plap!’ of your flesh meeting leads to his dick reaching up into your goey walls and hitting your g-spot. over and over again. “toji.. mm fuck, i love your dick..” you mumble, head tilting back with your tongue lolling out, too fucked out to even understand anything. only able to comprehend how good your man’s dick feels.

well at least the driver knows too?

“Hot News! Limousine driver goes viral for breaking the law and uploading an audio with the sounds of his clients apparently having sex in the back of the car. It’s not said who the people are, but fans suspect it might be—“ read more at…

“Hope you can handle the heat, put your name in the streets

Get used to my fans lookin' at you”

“baby they’re lookin’” toji groans, holding you tightly as you pepper his face in kisses, even daring to go lower to the skin of his neck that peeked out his collared shirt. “and?” you huff. you came to the airport to pick him up. and who were you to not love your man after nearly a month of being apart?

sure you could’ve waited, but fuck, you just missed him. “c’mon baby. i don't like those cameras on ya.” toji feels hot, something about knowing his woman having no care for the rest of the world does something to him. the clicks of cameras seemed infinite, and he almost felt bad for the bodyguards surrounding you two, keeping the phones and curious people at bay.

“just one more..” you mumbled into his skin, an arm reaching up around his neck and pulling him in. there was a loud sound of ‘aw’s and cooing as you two kissed. and despite his previous words, it edged toji on a bit, making him press further into you, leaning closer. his body trapped you, not letting you leave for air and keeping your lips locked. your tongues battled against each other, his winning and exploring your mouth so vigorously it made you whine against him.

as soon as your legs buckle, too hot and bothered from his actions, he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting your lips until he gives you one more quick n’ sloppy kiss. “we’re gettin’ out of here. fuckin’ wet arent’cha?” he whispers, grinning when you nod quickly, wrapping your arms around him as he picks you up.

the men in black surround you two through the paparazzi until you reach the designated ride. your head was tucked into his neck as toji throws the crowd a smirk, winking before shuffling you two into the car.

“Hot News! Famous actress, [Name], seen to be making out with her newly introduced boyfriend, the, Toji Zenin. is this a good pair? there’s already clips of—“ read more at…

“Fuck what they heard, I don't fuck with them birds

I'm a mean kitty, don't get stabbed with the rat tooth”

“shit baby. i think someone saw us last friday.” toji grunts, turning on the bed, phone in hand and showing your groggy self a video. it’s kinda blurry, the recorder whispering to themselves and getting a glimpse of you and toji sneaking away from a small secluded area. in the video, toji was close behind you, fixing the back of your dress as you fixed your messed up lip gloss. you only hum, reading the caption,

‘saw them at the VMA awards last week.. were they doing you know what? in public too?’

you grin up at toji, bringing a hand up to read through the comments. most of them were assumptions that you two did fuck. considering there’s already a few small infamous clips of you two kissing or getting touchy in public places. you notice that people mention it to be shameful, which you admit, it kinda is.

it’s only shameful if you feel shame.

“you don’t care huh?” “nah.” you giggle, watching him put away the phone before pulling you over onto his chest. you give a small yelp, looking down at his tired form and dragging your hands along his body. “why not baby? don’t you gotta rep? hope y’r not getting emails or stuff about this too..” he sighs, gripping the plush of your thighs and meddling with it as you lean down to kiss him.

“yea, but i don’t care. we still get offers, opportunities and stuff. everything’s well. soo..” you shrug, making him laugh as you grind on his chest. you two were barely clothed after your activities last night, your panties being the only thing keeping your cunt from his defined muscles. “you’re crazy.” and you grin, “your love’s got me lookin’ so crazy right now—” “oh hush, c’mere n’ kiss me..”

1K notes · View notes

hardlyinteresting · 2 months

Text

Love, Guilt and Other Wounds

Aaron Hotchner x female reader

When Aaron and his partner are taken hostage, he has to break her heart to save her life.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, a little bit of domestic fluff, mention of blood, injury (non-graphic), hostage situation, knives, cannon-compliant themes of violence, non-detailed discussion about religion (Christianity), themes of childhood abuse, please let me know if you want me to add anything else.

Word count: (less than I expected, sorry) 3.7k Request here! | Masterlist

"Of course, I’ll hurt you. Of course, you’ll hurt me. Of course, we will hurt each other. But this is the very condition of existence. To become spring means accepting the risk of winter. To become presence, means accepting the risk of absence". - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

Aaron isn't sure if he believes in a God or a higher power. He was taught to read scripture; and spent Sunday mornings perfecting his posture in church pews-- starched shirts and neckties pulled too tight. The preacher's sermons left him wanting-- wondering how this man of God could stand over his congregation preaching every week, and not see all the lies they were holding back. How could he not see the secrets Aaron seemed to read so clearly? At just fourteen Aaron knew who was having an affair and with whom. He could see which children feared their fathers. Every pew had another story, another family growing together, or falling apart. The hypocrisy of it all drove him mad, and he imagined standing from his seat to shout it, overwhelmed as he realized he had unintentionally become the keeper of everyone's secrets. He learned that everyone in that church was a liar in their own right, and he hated it. But, when he left for college, his mother called to ask if he was still going to church on Sundays, and he lied and said yes.

He should have paid more attention. Maybe then he'd understand how he ended up here. Perhaps it's some sick retribution. A cosmic evening of the scales; his penance for his sins. He just wishes you weren't here with him. How dare he think he could love someone when all he's ever done is punish those who love him? His hands are stained with blood; he taints everything he touches.

Very early on in his career, Aaron learned he couldn’t take cases personally. As devastating as it was to have another victim show up while hunting a killer, it wasn’t a personal failure. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He repeated the process again and again. Logically he knows that he is not responsible for the actions of the aggressive sociopath who is now holding the two of you hostage; but, he blames himself for not keeping you safer, for bringing you with him, and for putting you in harm's way. He knows he will not recover if you don’t make it out of here. He won’t forgive himself.

The profile said this man would be anti-social. Physically, he’d be small in stature. It was clear he’d been sneaking up on his victims. He had been taking couples, knocking out the men with a blow to the back of the head, and then the women. It’s a method that the team had seen before, common for UNSUBs without the social ability to lure their victims, or the physical strength or confidence to attack head-on. But they had not profiled that he would escalate to taking out his targets with a taser.

After six days in San Diego, the team finally had a lead on two rental properties in the UNSUB’s comfort zone. One was an old tyre factory, listed as a multipurpose warehouse and storage space; the other was a large storage facility in an industrial neighbourhood. Both units had been paid for in cash, both offered the privacy and space required to hold and torture two people for days at a time. The team split up, Hotch and you arranged to meet the owner of the factory space to find out more about who the renter was and gain access to the property. With no response from the owner of the second property, Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi headed over to check it out.

The two of you had only been on the property for five minutes before Aaron had been incapacitated and taken out. He had foolishly made his way into the building while you ran back to the SUV to grab your jacket. Out cold, there was nothing Aaron could do to stop you from meeting the same fate.

It’s not his fault. But he feels like it is as he watches you shiver from across the room. He can’t be certain how much time has passed, but it feels like hours. He can only hope that you’re being kept in the building you were attacked in, that the team will connect the dots and come and get you, but until then you’re stuck. He watches, nauseated as your eyes flutter open, and then shut again. You’re concussed, he doesn’t need to be a doctor to know that. His ears are ringing, and he’s sure the blow he took to the head has at the very least temporarily worsened his hearing.

“Doesn’t the FBI have rules against fraternization?” The UNSUB wonders out loud, waving a knife around as he walks towards you.

“What makes you think we’re a couple?” Hotch asks, as he tries to work his hands free from the rope that binds them behind his back, “She’s just a colleague”.

It’s a lie. But it needs to be said. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. Buy time, shift the UNSUB’s interest away from the two of you. Ruin the fantasy.

“I think I’ve been doing this long enough to know a couple when I see a couple, Aaron,” the man taunts, obviously proud of himself. He’s feeling emboldened having taken two FBI agents, but that works in your favour. He’s getting cocky, too full of himself. It’s a level of confidence he isn’t used to having, it just gives him a higher height to fall from. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. “I think it’s time we wake your girlfriend up,” the man says, his hand gripping tightly at your hair, your head tugged back without remorse.

Aaron resists the urge to cringe as he hears you groan, your face twisted with obvious pain as you’re rudely awakened. “She’s pretty. What’s she doing with you?”

“I told you. She’s a colleague”.

Your eyes are unfocused, scanning the room trying to make sense of what is going on.

The man raises the knife, holding it to your throat. This time Aaron blinks, desperate to control his expressions and micro-expressions. In this scenario, the less he cares about you, the safer you are.

It’s the burden of being tied to him. Time after time his love destroys people.

The blade presses closer to your throat. Aaron controls his breathing.

“Impressive agent Hotchner. But I’m still not convinced,” the UNSUB moves the blade but pulls your head back further. Your eyes meet Aaron’s, “Do what you’re going to do, he doesn’t care,” you say. You’re speaking to the man with the knife in his hand as much as you’re speaking to Aaron. He weighs his options, his heart pounding as he watches you hold your breath, willing the tears to leave your eyes. It’s the permission he needs but doesn’t want. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He knows you’re doing the same, telling him to break your heart to save your life.

“Please, Hotc--”.

He doesn’t let you finish, “Just shut up for once. Please,” he thinks the words cut through him more than they cut through you. Knowing his cruelty is a lie does little to soften the blow, and it breaks his heart to be the one throwing it.

But this is all he’s good for, isn’t it? Letting people down. Surely it’s not just coincidence that so many of those who have dared to love him end up damaged. One way or another he destroys people. Who is he to say that he’s the one who is suffering when it’s he who does all the damage?

Even as a child, he couldn’t help it. He thinks perhaps he inherited his sharpened tongue and lack of patience from his mother. She loved him in her own way but could never show it without first tearing him apart. Her biting words, and regular beatings. Prentiss had been right when she once said he was distrustful of women-- unfairly so. Not all women carry the hateful, spiteful heart his mother had. Very few had ever turned their rage at the world and their shortcomings into a personal and violent rage against him. He grew weary nonetheless. Better safe than sorry.

At a young age, it became clear to him that there were few things, if anything, as important to his mother than appearances. On Sundays, she fussed over his clothes and his posture. She lectured him on table manners from the moment he could hold a fork. His room had to be spotless. His grades had to surpass average. Long before his brother was ever born, he learned how to live up to her expectations. But still, there was always something she could find him lacking in, an excuse to take her open fist or wooden spoon to his skin, a reason to send him to bed without dinner. He remembers crashing into the china cabinet trying to escape her one night. She was mortified on Monday when he had to walk into school on Monday with a cast around his arm. “Make sure they know this was your fault,” she told him. Perhaps I was built to fail, he had thought. She loves me and I embarrass her. I will only ever let her down. God, how disappointed she would be to see him now.

Seconds feel like hours as the UNSUB leers expectantly. The man's mouth twists into a smile when he sees the tears forming in your waterline again. Aaron watches your fist clench presumably to distract yourself from the migraine that matches the pounding in his head, just as much as it is to pull your attention away from the hurtful lies he's about to weave.

“You were supposed to have my back,” Arron spits with faux vitriol. “You had one job and couldn't even manage to do that”. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward.

“From the moment you showed up I knew you'd be a problem”.

He continues to try to work his hands out from the binds. He can feel the knot loosening as he continues to buy the two of you time. “Aaron,” you beg, tears slipping down your cheeks now.

“Following me around with some school girl crush. Look where we are now,” Aaron breathes.

He can feel his father’s rage resting on his shoulders, as heavy as his hands were when he used to pat him on the back. It’s a quiet burning, far more silent than his mother’s anger, but it’s there and threatening him all the same. A silent shame; a fear induced by the knowledge that he’s failing but not being able to stop it. His father lived like a ghost in their home, just as Aaron has learned to haunt his life. He only ever raised his voice when he drank, but even then his hatred was self-directed. A sorrowful self-pity. A cry for help. The affairs, the gambling, the drinking; the man punished himself, stumbling home to a house with a vengeful wife, a silent boy, and a crying baby. It was a heart attack that finally killed him, but Aaron never doubted his father had stopped living long before that.

Aaron breaks his own heart as he delivers each verbal blow. He hopes you understand. He prays that just maybe your concussion might leave the memories of this moment blurry. Selfishly, he begs you to forgive him, because he won’t forgive himself.

He can see the way your wrists strain against your restraints. The UNSUB adjusts his grip on your hair as you struggle to distance yourself from him. Your eyelids flutter and he knows your vision must be swimming but you don’t give up. With a sadistic grin, the UNSUB wipes at the tear stain on your cheek with fake sympathy, grasping your jaw roughly he forces you to look straight at Aaron, “Poor girl… guess boss man doesn’t care about you after all. What a waste,” he sighs his breath heavy against your cheek, as he moves to hold the knife to your throat again, “She’s so pretty,” he directs his commentary at Aaron this time.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong. I’ve slept with her. How couldn’t I when she was practically throwing herself at me?” The words taste bitter on his tongue as he speaks them. His stomach churns as he continues, “But what we have certainly isn’t love”.

It couldn’t be further from the truth. Aaron grounds himself choosing to remember the quiet morning you two had shared only a few days earlier. Waking up without an alarm but with Jack sneaking in to jump up on the bed. As he watches you cry now he recalls how you had smiled so brightly at the little boy, ruffling his hair and cuddling Jack into your side. He had watched with a smile of his own as you bargained with his son, promising pancakes in exchange for ten more minutes of sleep on your shared day off.

You crept into his heart so slowly he had hardly noticed. Until one day, he looked up from the bright pink sticky note you'd left on your recent report, reminding him not to work too hard; he knew, without a doubt, he was in love with you.

For so much of his life, Aaron conditioned himself to expect a fight around every corner. He learned to make sacrifices from his happiness in fruitless attempts to keep peace. For the first time in forever he's been feeling like maybe, just maybe, he's enough. You’ve been more than patient with him; understanding his hesitance to open up to people again. You don't get upset with him for working late, but you scold him for not getting enough sleep and skipping meals.

He smiles more. He cracks jokes the way he used to. You've helped him see the forest from the trees-- healed parts of him he didn’t know needed mending. He's tried to do the same for you. He's watched you open up and trust the team more. He's seen the way your confidence has grown and he can't take credit for your growth, but he's enamoured by the transformation just the same.

You deserve better. You deserve better. You deserve better. The thought echoes in his head the same as it does most days. But now, it’s louder. The voice in his head matches the volume of the ringing in his ears, and the rushing sound of his pounding heart. Compartmentalize. Use logic. Move forward. He fights to remind himself, but the UNSUB is laughing now. Taunting you and your emotions, and there’s nothing Aaron can do but sit there and watch. He struggles to feign indifference, watching as you continue to make yourself smaller. It’s only then that he notices that you too are working your hands out of the rope that restrains you. The UNSUB was stupid enough to tie your wrist in front of you.

Aaron’s eyes focus on the bandaid wrapped around your index finger. You cut yourself making dinner last week. He could have sworn his heart melted when you turned to him holding your hand out, blood beading already. “Aaron, where do you keep your first aid kit?” you’d asked. Your brows furrowed, and your lips pouted. “In the bathroom, the cabinet under the sink,” he’d answered with no intention of letting you go off and tend to your wound alone. Instead, he guided you down the hall, his left hand looped in a gentle hold around your wrist, his other hand on your waist.

Once you were sat on the countertop he took great care, making sure the wound was cleaned before he bandaged it. “My hero,” you teased, leaning in for a kiss.

A simple cut he could manage to fix. Jack promised you could use as many of his Star Wars bandaids as you wanted while you healed as well. A little love and patience could make it better, a philosophy he adopted to heal Jack’s scraped knees, and schoolyard bruises. But the sight before him now is far worse than any kitchen mishap could be.

Your nose is still bleeding. Bruises have already begun to form, red marks turning deep purple with every passing minute. He knows that your concussion is something you'll recover from. The contact burns from where the taser touched your skin will become new skin someday soon. The cuts and scrapes will scab over and then disappear.

Aaron worries the damage he's done can never truly be ameliorated. Your compassion is unmatched. It’s what makes you a good agent, a good partner, and someone Jack can turn to. You are forgiving. God knows you've excused enough of his behaviour. But, he doesn't deserve to be absolved of this guilt. He will carry this day around in the darkest corner of his heart; the same place he holds the memory of Haley and how he failed her. The words “what we have certainly isn't love,” will linger uneffaced by time or kind words.

The squeak of an old door opening piques Aaron's interest. The UNSUB doesn't react. Seemingly only interested in tracing the tear tracks on your cheeks. Your eyes are closing again. It's over now, he wants to tell you. He wants to hold you; comfort you; to apologise because you deserve to hear it anyway.

“Paul Simpson. FBI,” Morgan’s voice booms, “drop the knife and put your hands where I can see them”. Prentiss and Dave come to stand next to Morgan, their guns trained on the newly identified perpetrator. Aaron bites his tongue so hard he can taste blood-- it's all he can do to stop himself from bursting into a fit of bitter laughter. We win, he wants to say.

Disarmed and handcuffed, Paul is escorted outside by Morgan and two members of the local police. Prentiss and Rossi make quick work of untying you and Aaron.

“Aaron?” he can hear you mutter, breathy and quiet.

“Yeah, I’m right here,” he promises kneeling at your side. Your eyes are glazed and unfocused as you nod and tip forward. Unconscious, your entire body falls forward into Prentiss’ arms. Aaron’s voice joins Rossi in calling for a paramedic.

The doctors assure him that you’ll wake up soon. They dealt with his injuries quickly. Bruised ribs are the worst of his injuries. A cut at the back of his head and the taser burns were patched in only a few minutes, though he’ll readily admit he was far from a good patient. Too anxious to keep still much to the nurse’s dismay.

You’re still asleep. A major concussion will have you out of the field for much longer than he knows you’ll be happy with. He makes a mental note to start setting aside some extra paperwork for when you inevitably start hounding him for something to do. With the lights in the room dimmed, and a comfortable silence settling he allows himself to indulge in the illusion that everything might be alright between you.

With your hand in his, he breathes deeply trying to focus. He prays to a God he’s not sure he believes in. And when the quiet starts to get to him, he speaks out loud, as silly as he thinks he may look. He tells you about the phone call he had with Jack earlier and lets you know that Jack has a new painting he can’t wait to show you when you get home. Your hand squeezes his, encouraging him to keep talking.

“Aaron?” your eyelids flutter as you adjust to the light. The nurse had them turned to the dimmest setting but it’s still far more than you feel immediately capable of coping with.

“Yeah, honey,” he affirms. You release the breath you’re holding your brow relaxing.

“I love you,” you tell him. Your voice is steady and steadfast. Your resolve is impressive, unwavering and determined as you focus on making eye contact with him. “It’s not your fault,” you promise. He’s sure you don’t expect the weight on his shoulders to lighten instantaneously. You’ll tell him every day that he’s not to blame; intent on chiselling away at his guilt, shrinking it down before it manages to consume him.

“I love you,” he swears. He knows it won’t squash any of the doubt he’s planted. Aaron knows there will soon be days that the niggling insecurity threatens to break what you’ve managed to build together; when the worry that you aren’t enough seems louder than it ever has before. He won’t blame you if you decide it isn’t worth the pain of staying with him. But, he’s hell-bent on loving you through it. He can only hope that it’s enough.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds fic #hotch x reader

675 notes · View notes

sh1-n0bu · 7 months

Text

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 12: somnophilia with jing yuan from hsr

warnings: somnophilia, they consented beforehand, wait would it also count as cnc??? nipple stimulation, handjob

notes: i think my favoritism towards hsr is showing

‘dozing general’

what a truly fitting nickname for your lover as he continues to sleep peacefully in the comfort of your shared bed. well, not entirely peacefully as he lets out whines and soft moans of your name in his sleep, rubbing his thighs together as his tip leaks precum, smearing it all over his sleeping gown.

he seems to be having a wet dream. from the sounds he was producing as he desperately tries to hump the air. whining when nothing touches his cock to help him relieve himself from the lustful dreams of his.

you two have talked beforehand. due to his workload, whenever he falls asleep, jing yuan tends to sleep like the dead. whether it be a simple nap or a full on deep sleep. and of course, he can’t always be energetic to get himself fucked stupid.

so he brought up the concept of somnophilia. perverted as always as he eagerly consented to being touched in his sleep. allowing you to use his cock or hole or even his large chest however you please to relieve the both of yours’ stress. perhaps this time, you should put the consented perverted action to the test and see how he fairs.

hugging him just a little bit tighter from behind — he always insists on being the small spoon when cuddling — you slowly push a leg between his own. easing his tightly shut thighs open, your leg hooked inside his to keep his own two legs open.

a hand coming around to wrap him in a hug. but that was just a guise before your fingers tease his pretty pink nipples, rolling and pinching the soft buds gently between your thumb and middle as your forefinger messes with his hardening bud. jing yuan let out a louder moan in his sleep at that. hips bucking back in whatever wet dream he may be having.

placing soft kisses to the back of his neck, you continue to torment his nipple, feeling the usually soft bud turn hard and perky under your expert fingers. jing yuan could only whine and whimper in his sleep. sometimes letting out moans whenever you would pinch just a little bit too hard or pull at his nipple.

slowly your other makes it’s way down. pulling apart at the slit of his usual sleeping gown to reveal his muscular thighs. thighs that are already covered in old bite marks and bruises from your lovemaking a few days back. you may or may not have become a bit too harsh on him.

as an apology to that, your hand gently gropes and squeezes at his thigh without shame. easing your hand up and up, on his upper thigh until your hand slips deeper into his v-line, fingers touching his happy trail.

or maybe it was to make him whine louder, almost mewling, as he tries to make your hand finally touch his aching dick. he was already so hard and leaking pre all over his sleeping gown, making him almost sob from frustration in his sleep. whatever wet dream he may be having, he seems to have forgotten. proven by how his still slumbering body was craving and chasing your touch.

finally, finally, your hand comes to wrap around his shaft, making his hips buckle. a soft moan of relief is heard as he tries to fuck himself into the tight enclosure of your fist. he sounded so pathetic. needy whines, soft mewls and moans of your name falling from his lips as he pants heavily, slight drool already slipping past his open mouth.

rubbing your thumb over his weeping slit, you smear his pre all over his tip. of course, that wasn’t enough to be a lube to properly fuck his painfully erect cock. if you were to let go of him to get a lube from the nightstand, jing yuan would probably wake up. and you didn’t wanted to wake him up. you wanted him to continue to have his much needed rest while providing him pleasure.

with a reluctant sigh, you let go of his cock, making your sleepy lover whine loudly, brokenly like a sad cat being denied of their favorite treat. in a sense, he was.

gently shushing his sleepy whining, you spit all over your hand, making sure that there was a hefty amount. enough to at least work as a makeshift lube for now and to not hurt him.

taking his neglected dick in your hand again, you slowly move your fist. jing yuan lets out happy sounding moans in his slumber, weakly bucking his hips to little to no avail due to his sleepy nature and exhausted body.

peppering kisses and leaving lovebites on his exposed neck, pulling and twisting his poor abused nipple between your fingers as you continue to fuck his sensitive angry red cock into your tight fist — you absolutely reveled in the sheer power you hold over your lover. jing yuan may be the general of the xianzhou luofu but when in the safe space of your shared home, he would gladly turn himself into your toy.

unable to control yourself, you leave a bite to the sensitive crook of his neck. one that made his cock twitch in your hand before cumming over your fingers, soiling your skin with his thick, creamy seeds.

“b-beloved… do that again…” jing yuan calls out, words slurry and eyes heavy with sleep as he slyly smiles at you.

this cheeky bastard. he had been awake all along!

1K notes · View notes