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dejwrld · 6 months

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summary — international rockstar choso kamo is in love with the international popstar, y/n.

warning readers discretion is advised ⸻ female reader, female anatomy described, written with black reader in mind, mentions of descriptors of black reader (complexion, hair texture, culture), open to be read by all readers, profanity, angst, lovers to exes, told in third pov Chosoi's pov), mentions of drug and alcohol usage, opposite attracts trope, riding/cowgirl position, brief mention of oral (m.receiving), famous au, modern au, he falls harder trope, praise kink, rockstar choso x popstar!reader one shot

sticky note from deja — this was originally another character plot, but urgh i just think about rockstar choso a lot! well i think about choso a lot period. so here's a sweet treat to the choso gaggers.

He liked her more than he had expected. He never was the one to be in a committed relationship—didn't quite go with the rockstar image as an artist, nor did it sell to the public. He thought it was better to sell into the stereotype that rock stars do hardcore drugs, can't remember their flings' names, and show up late to their sound checks for concerts. But here he was, staring at her as she peacefully slept on his chest as if she belonged there.

Well, she did. She was different from the people he pursued romantically who entered his life and exited quickly when they realized they couldn't keep up with his lifestyle. She could handle the throat-cutting hate from fans because she had rabid fans. She could take the intrusive questions from music journalists because she had one of the world's best PR and media training teams.

He didn't want to admit that he was falling in love with her.

But, here, Choso was itching to smoke a morning cigarette but too afraid to wake her because she had a late recording session.

And don't get him started on the reckless shit he did while she was locked up in the studio last night.

"Good morning," Her voice comes off like a whisper as if they were in a library with strict talking rules. She's placing tired kisses on Choso’s chest with a smile.

"Mornin'," Choso mumbles back, his arms resting behind his head. His brown-colored eyes met her gaze when he felt her hand rubbing his thighs. "Don't you have to be at the studio in a couple of hours?" His right eyebrow, embedded with a piercing, raised at her.

She chuckled, letting her hand rub against his cock that had hardened in the wake of morning wood. Betraying him entirely as he's inhaling sharply at her actions.

"I just need two hours with you," She responds. "And maybe one to get ready." She adds before smiling. Her eyes glistened with lust, and Choso couldn't deny that look.

"Help yourself." He responds, getting even more comfortable in his king-sized bed. His hands still rest behind his head because he wouldn't have cared for her to use him as she pleased.

With a pleased smile, she leaned closer to peck his lips before leaving a trail of kisses on his bare chest and traveling downward to disappear under the gray-colored duvet that covered them both.

Choso was waiting for her to notice the impulse thing he did yesterday. Quite afraid of her reaction because maybe he had gone a bit overboard. He wasn't sure she loved him as much as he loved her.

Choso!" She climbs back from under the blanket and quickly tugs it off the two of them. "What the fuck is this?" Her acrylic tapered square-shaped nails trace alongside his waist, and that simple movement causes his pale skin to garnish with goosebumps.

"Surprise cupcake." He gives her a cheeky grin.

"Surprise my ass!"

Just above his waist, stopping right where his white-haired happy trail ended, was her name in old English font.

Y/N.

He couldn't read her facial expressions. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but her mouth held back a snicker. Y/N's fingers traced alongside the tattoo's outline that imprinted Choso's skin.

"I can't believe you did this insane shit." She stares at Choso and then at the tattoo before giggling. "You're so insane, but I love you for that."

Choso didn't think she knew what she had just said because before he could respond, she was kissing the tattoo so delicately that it caused Choso’s toes to curl in anticipation. Her tongue traces the outline of each lettering on his skin, and Choso could feel the precum on his tip immediately stain his Calvin Klein boxers.

"Fuck!" He breathed out, letting his head sink into the back of his hands resting behind his head.

His boxers were removed, and soon, his body relaxed under the feeling of her tongue licking at the precum on his tip as if it were a sweet delight. He peeks through his long eyelashes at the way her tongue glides up and down his thick shaft before engulfing his cock in her mouth without a care. The sound of Y/N gagging on his cock followed by the sight of saliva pooling out her mouth caused Choso’s skin to heat up instantly. He removed one hand from the back of his head to palm at the top of her head. His fingers fiddle with the silk scarf that protects her hair for the night while he guides her head up and down his hardened cock like a sports ball on a court.

His dark eyes opened and were met with Y/N’s, whose hands flickered up and down his cock before briefly letting the pad of her thumb rub at his plump pink-shaded tip, smearing the precum and saliva that coated it. It drove Choso mad at the way she looked at him. It was as if he was the best thing since sliced bread when, in reality, Choso was just some musician who, on some days, couldn’t even keep his eyes open as he was in the studio high on whatever drug he consumed that morning.

She released his cock with a pop before she removed the remaining amount of clothes. First, it was the yellow-colored Calvin Klein cheeky underwear—she was a brand ambassador for them (of course, he knew that). Then, it was the oversized t-shirt that belonged to him that she managed to look better in. Her brown skin glistened in the sunlight that shone through the high-rise windows in Choso’s penthouse. The warmth of her thighs on his side from straddling his lip caused Choso to smile. His eyebrows raised in curiosity at what was her next move. When he said, help yourself—he didn’t expect her to want to ride him.

His body tensed up at the feeling of her cunt sinking further down on his cock. His body instantly reacted immediately because that was just the charm Y/N had on him. The littlest things could have had his cock twitching in whatever pair of sweatpants he wore. His fingers clutched at her waist while he guided her hips at a pace that was wonderful for both of them to enjoy. Such a little thing like this made Choso realize even more why that insane impulse idea he did the previous night was even more justified. He was in love. He showed it when they had sex. From his last relationships and embarrassing one-night stands that led to signed NDAs, he didn’t care to use them for a quick nut and go on about his business. But with her, with Y/N, he made love to her as if, just in the blink of an eye, she wouldn’t be here anymore. He ate her out as if it was the last thing he had eaten in fuckin’ centuries. He wanted all of her when he had a vision to please her when they had sex.

“Look at you,” Choso’s voice is a sweet, teasing tune, similar to his most recent single. His fingers trace the outline of her stretch marks that connect from her thighs to her love handles. “Helpin’ yourself. Need help?” He chuckles.

Quickly, he’s thrusting his hips upward to meet Y/N’s sudden bounce. He felt her nails piercing his bare chest, bracing herself for his abrupt thrusting. Her plump, kiss-swollen lips gasped apart to let out a moan that caused Choso to feel feral. He wanted to flip her over—have his fuckin’ way with her. Fuck her into the mattress to show to her that she was his and only his. It was the only way—but no, Choso had to let her do her. Let her fuck him how she pleases.

So the grasp he had on her waist loosened. His thrusts that met with her bouncing abruptly stopped, and he relaxed under her weight. The only thing the rockstar could do was glance up at her completely lovestruck—completely pussy drunk.

“Thought you were helping me, hm?” She questions in between raspy whimpers that make Choso’s cock harder.

“You’re a big girl, and you got it covered.” He spat back.

She couldn’t even respond to his words because she got lost in the pleasure of his cock kissing at that spot, which caused her to feel like she was on the fluffiest cloud. Her hips rocked backward and forwards. The headboard clashed against the wall, and Choso thanked every God that the property next to his was empty. He did not have the energy or time to deal with noise complaints. Especially given Y/N’s moans that only grew louder as she bounced on his cock as if it was the most critical task. He was trying so hard not to grab upon her, slam her harder on his cock—milk her out until she creamed on him. But no, he told her to help herself.

“That’s my girl.” His brown eyes met hers when those words of praise fluttered off his lips.

If Choso could look close enough, he could see a sparkle in her eyes, and her pussy clench around his cock.

“You’re doing well, Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” He teasingly questioned. “You look so fucking beautiful riding me.” He adds, but this time—he no longer could control his impulse to feel upon his girlfriend.

He ached for her touch.

His hand finally found the place on her waist to help bob her upon his cock. His face flushed and was so hot— Choso knew that when his face got as red as the bottom of Y/N’s favorite red bottoms, he was about to cum. He felt his balls grow heavier with each pounce of Y/N, and the only thing he could utter was her name as if it was a lyric in one of his songs charting on the Billboard 100.

“Fuck, I’m about to—” His words were cut off by Y/N.

“Me too, baby.” She huffs, rocking her hips fast to reach her pleasure wave. “Just tell me one thing, baby. Please.” She coos, and Choso can only nod.

Whatever she wanted, she could have. Whatever she needed, she could get. Choso would give her the whole world plus some with how she rode him.

“Tell me you love me.”

“Fuck, Y/N. You know I love you. I wouldn’t get your name tattooed on me.” Choso breathed out.

“But I want you to say it when you cum,” She moans out. “So you have it imprinted on that silly brain of yours who makes you feel like that.”

Choso glanced into her eyes and realized she was serious about this. He was yanking her down so that her chest was on his and thrusting his hips upward, embracing her in a heated kiss that made him feel intoxicated. He was so intoxicated that he was questioning whether he should pull out now. Her teeth nibble at his lower lip just in time for them to come together. The feeling of her cunt pulsing around his cock drove the rockstar insane. When he pulled back from the kiss, his sweat-covered forward pressed against hers as he thrusts a couple more times, ensuring every droplet of his cum stayed inside her.

“I love you, Y/N.”

#choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #female reader #black reader #jjk x black reader #choso smut #choso kamo x black reader #angelshubnetwork #⊹˳⁺ ♡ 𝒻𝒶𝓃𝒻𝒾𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈

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enchantingforestfeeder · 21 days

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"Ugh, what happened?" you say, stirring from the scratchy couch were you spent the night. A piercing headache tells you that you drank too much at my party last night. You try to sit up but your body feels too heavy and lethargic so you settle for rolling onto your back. After you get your bearings, you look down to see your shorts unbuttoned and your chubby belly poking out from under your crop top. After a couple failed attempts to close them, you decide that these shorts are finally too small. Even though you seem a little more bloated than usual, your stomach is still growling for more food.

"Oh, you're awake," I say to you from the kitchen. I was already cooking a breakfast fit for a hangover: Hash browns, eggs, bacon and gravy. I know how much you like greasy food when you're hungover. "Breakfast is almost ready. I left some edibles on the coffee table, those usually help me feel better when I'm hungover"

You manage to sit yourself up and reach for the bag of gummies. Normally you only take one but today seems dire so you decide to go for two. Next to the bag was a box of pizza from last night with a couple slices in it. "Those should hold me over until breakfast is done," you think to yourself.

The greasy cold pizzas hits your stomach and suddenly some of the nausea subsides. It's not long before I set you plate down in front of you piled high with breakfast food. The edibles are finally kicking in giving you the munchies again so you dig in.

"So how much of last night do you remember?" I ask. It seems to take you out of your eating daze.

"Not much after we played beer pong. What did I do this time?"

"Well, I don't know what happened to start it, but you were going around to everybody and asked them to touch your belly. You kept talking about how happy you were that you had a big fat belly." Your chubby checks, full of fatty food, turned bright red. This wasn't the first time you've done something embarrassing while drunk, but you couldn't recall a time you had been that unhinged.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. It was the end of the night everyone else was pretty drunk and a lot of people had gone home already. I don't think anyone cares." This made you feel a little better and your faced didn't feel so hot anymore. "But, something else happened after everyone left. You kept asking me to feed you. All you could talk about was how you were going to get huge and you needed me to feed you so you could turn into a big fat pig."

After a long pause, you finally worked up the courage to ask the question that was lingering in your mind.

"So...did you do it?" Now it was my turn to red with embarrassment.

"I did, and I don't know why but I really liked it. You were a machine, I had never seen somebody eat so much in one sitting before. It was...hot."

So your secret was out. You've been losing control of your impulses lately so its no wonder. Every weekend you drink until you black out and stuff yourself with greasy party food. You even wore those shorts because you knew you were getting too fat for them and you loved it. All these thoughts swirled in your head as the edible really started kicking in.

"Do you want to do it again?" You asked me. I could tell you were starting to feel it. Without saying anything I picked up your half empty plate and gently shoved the remaining food into your mouth. You just sat there, instinctively rubbing your bloated belly as you slipped into a moment of bliss. As I reached the last couple bites, I could hear a moan escape your lips.

"Do you want more?" I asked. Without opening your eyes, you nodded your head. You were so high I didn't think you would ever stop. I don't even think you understood how much food you consumed or how round and bloated your belly looked pushing out between the zipper of your outgrown shorts.

I made sure you finished every bite

#wg fiction #wg text #wg fantasy #wg encouragement #feeding kink #intox kink #weed intox #drunk kink #fat belly

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thelurchinghound · 6 months

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hiii i dunno if id be first request or if u even take them im so sorry if u dont !!! but i was wondering maybe something yandere non con smut? x human male reader !! kink wise maybe somnophilia, knife play, blood? thank u for reading this, have a nice day/night <33

[Request info] - [Navigation] - [Elias' Pinterest]

Gender: Male reader

Kinks/Warning(s): Non-con, somnophilia, knifeplay, blood, drugging.

A/N: Grrrr I love somnophilia. Didn't know if you wanted a monster yandere so I just made it with my yandere slasher oc who has monster traits but its not really mentioned in this fic. This is a really old request that I got 70% done but then forgot about it.

Oc(s) used: Elias (Killer/Slasher) | Words: 701 | Proofread? No | NSFW |

By hitting 'keep reading' you are accepting that you're 18+ and are fine with reading dark/sensitive content (Don't like? Don't read.)

Elias had been observing you for a while now. He was always watching but never acting on his impulses, and fuck did he have a lot of them. How badly Elias desires to see you gagging on his cock, your tears staining your cheeks, his name carved into your thigh. He had even gifted you a stuffed plush of your favorite animal, a camera in its eye to watch over you.

He had kept his patience for so long, but then you took that fucking stupid punk home. It drove him up the wall. Literally, Elias climbed up your house and into your room through your window. How stupid were you, doll, to leave your window unlocked? Oh well, it just makes it more uncomplicated for him. It was almost like you wanted this. You took that spiked drink without any thought. He thinks to himself.

Elias quietly slinks through your room, mindful not to knock anything over. His cock was already bulging in his pants, just as enthusiastic as he was. Stalking up to you with a broad grin, his gloved hand skimming your cheek. "Hey there, doll." He whispers to you, his slender body shifting to straddle your own. Fuck, he wanted to tear off all your clothes right then and there but no. He had to be patient. "You're so fucking stunning when you sleep," Elias mutters softly, his gloved hands gingerly working down your unconscious form. Black gooey tendrils slither from under his shirt, reaching out towards you. "I'm going to have so much fun with you."

He used his knife to cut through your shirt to expose your bare chest. The blade cuts your skin a little. Elias trails his lips down from the nape of your neck to the hem of your pants, lapping at any driblets of blood that well up from the thin cuts. His hot tongue rubs up against your perky nipple, his tongue piercing a stark difference to it. He could feel his cock getting more erect at the thought of you under him now. So pure, so innocent, unknowing of what was happening to you.

Elias wastes no time pulling down your pants. I've waited long enough. He thinks to himself, his hands trembling while pulling down your underwear. Those tendrils of his wrapping around your legs, spreading them out for him. God, you look so beautiful.

He takes his time prepping you. The killer wasn't that stupid. It's not like he wanted to hurt you too much. He just wanted to make you his own. His gloved hands ran over your body once he got done prepping you, wiping off the lube he used on his pants. Elias fumbled around his pants pocket to grab a condom he had brought.

He unzips his jeans, pulls his cock out, and slips the protection on him. Once he gets himself situated, he starts to push into your tight ass. Soft groans leave him with each inch he forces into you. "Fuck, there we go. Just let me in, doll."

The black drooping tendrils slither up your thighs more, tightening around like snake coils. The tendrils hold your legs up higher for Elias as he starts thrusting harshly in you. Soft grumbles leave the killer. Elias was finally getting his prize. He had killed so much competition to get here. Many other guys think they could steal you away from him. No. You were his from the start, from the second his eyes laid on you.

His thrust starts to get harder and deeper, balls slapping against you with each movement he makes. Gloved hands gripping your hips, squeezing the supple skin there, the grip would surely leave bruises afterward. Elias starts to get sloppy, leaving small kisses along your neck and collarbone. But just marking you with his mouth wasn't enough. He wanted something more permanent.

After finally finishing inside you, filling up the condom with his cum he grabs his knife. His tendrils helped move you around so he could carve his name into your flesh. The cold metal of the blade slices your skin in harsh swipes. "Don't worry, baby. I won't let anyone else harm you. Only me."

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oh-snapperss · 1 year

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Etho stares at the message on his communicator until his eyes are nearly blurry. No. No. No. No. If he thinks too hard, his very blood is in flames, burning away himself and Joel. If he thinks too hard, Joel’s triumphant scream pierces the air along with the axe buried in his chest. If he thinks too hard, the scars on his arms turn back to the flame they once were, setting his clothing alight as he screams in agony.

But They want blood, and who is he to deny Them? Who is he to deny protection to those he couldn’t save before? (He knows he’ll betray them to live anyway.)

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“They want blood… gladly,” Grian’s lips twist up into a sick grin. He’s far beyond caring, and has been since he scrubbed the blood of his lover from his fingernails under the desolate, unforgiving desert sun.

“Grian?”

The sick smile disappears as he’s faced with the ghost that has haunted him daily since the beginning.

“Scar.”

“One more time?” Scar wears his own tired grin, just as sick as Grian’s, and far more bitter.

“One more time.”

(Is this the last time?)

<Grian joined the game

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“Wh-now? Are you serious?” Jimmy drops the pile of wood he’d been carrying through the doorway of his empty town. “Right now?”

There’s no response–there never is, and hasn’t been in months. All that’s left to keep him company are the tumbleweeds, blowing past him, and the mocking, empty vacation houses he’d invited the others to build in the hopes someone would come keep him company.

“Least I won’t be alone, if I go…” Somewhere, there’s laughter, a call from his rancher and respect he’d forgotten he could have.

That’s all it takes.

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“Oh, for goodness sake!”

He tries to ignore the message for several hours, although it taunts him with every glance down to the communicator, seeing others log off Hermitcraft. Etho. Grian. Scar. Tango. Cleo. Ren. Impulse.

No, no, not this time. He doesn’t want to go, not when he’s sure Impulse has a matching scar through his chest where Bdubs’ sword betrayed him twice-albeit, on accident the final time. Etho’s long gone–of course he’d go–and Cleo, for reasons well beyond him. Far more hours pass, before he breaks–

“...fine!”

(He never really had a choice. He’s not proven himself beyond failing those he swore loyalty to, and he won’t rest until then.)

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Sharp laughter fills the air, like electricity buzzing, and then-

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“No thanks, I’m good mate!” Mumbo shakes his head, already turning back to the flooring of his definitely full vault.

(Although…)

…

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“Of course, of course..” Scott chuckles slowly, as if in on some joke that nobody else could ever understand. Like others… he’s far beyond caring, and has been since the lightning arched through the trees to take him despite his supposed victory. But first… he takes his time. Makes himself a drink, watches the sun set orange. After all… the next sunset could be red.

As the sun dips below the horizon, he turns away.

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It’s as if the fear and rage she’d felt for weeks before comes back in an instant, electrifying her. She’s typed her answer before she can even think twice about it, half blinded. Why? Why? Why did he do that?

“Hello, Scott,” she grins up at the rising sun, at the unmarred landscape around her. “Would you like to play a game?”

#yeah uh i don't really have an explanation for this... like at all #i blacked out and got this #hope that helps #trafficblr #etho #ethoslab #grian #goodtimeswithscar #jimmy solidarity #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #smallishbeans #scott smajor #pearlescentmoon #my fics #life series 4 #??#idk what to tag this tbh

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ashyyslashy · 1 year

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Call Me: Renfield x GN!Reader

You work at a hotline for people suffering with codependence. You find yourself attracted to an odd guy who frequents the line, and one night, you both let down your guards.

word count: 2,039

warnings: sexual content (orgasm denial, phone sex, praise kink, m! masturbation), language

tags: @kpopgirlbtssvt @karmakaoskk-blog @wrldsapart

You were deeply intrigued the first time you heard his voice. Unmistakably kind yet nervous. Soft, subdued, as if he was making himself smaller even over the phone. You surmised that he was used to being unseen, to shrinking away from others' gaze.

He introduced himself as Robert Montague Renfield, in a British accent permeating with gentle formality. He was instinctively charming, yet there was a certain sorrow you caught lurking in his voice.

He was tight-lipped about his codependent situation for the first few calls, only telling you vague details about his boss' narcissism. Whenever you brought up the subject of what exactly he did for work, however, he was decidedly evasive in his responses. The most you could glean was that he was some sort of assistant, but you couldn't say what for.

You could say that his life revolved around his job. Every time he called you - after the first time you talked he'd always ask to speak to you whenever he called the hotline - he seemed fearful he could be pulled away at any moment. Guilty about taking time to himself.

You tried not to pressure him, allowed him time to become more comfortable. After several calls, he was still secretive about his work, but he slowly started confiding in you. He struggled to develop his own identity under the shadow of his boss. He felt deeply alone, unable to connect with others. He often felt controlled by feelings of hatred and discontent towards himself.

When your shift ended one night, you acted on impulse - you gave him your personal number, telling him to call you any time. You wouldn't normally do something that forward, but you were drawn to him. Your conversations at work never felt long enough. He was hesitant at first, anxious about taking up your free time. But you assured him it was what you wanted.

The two of you exchanged photos, and your attraction multiplied. The selfies he had sent you were hilariously awkward, the angle unflattering and the lighting reminding you of the harsh fluorescents of a hospital room.

But you didn't care. Despite his inability to work a cell phone camera, he was otherworldly. Piercing blue eyes, dark hair against pale skin; exactly how you'd imagine the love interest in a gothic novel. Something inside you craved him with a fervor that you believed had been long dulled by monotony and routine.

This night, you'd brought up the topic of romance. You couldn't let the curiosity eat away at you any longer of whether or not you had any chance with him. He had laughed nervously, before telling you he hadn't pursued someone in years. You knew you shouldn't, but you pressed the subject.

"Well, any short-term relationships, flings?"

"No, no one."

"Not even a one-night stand?" You paused. "I'm not passing any judgement, by the way. Romance in the 21st-century is so shitty, if you can even call it that sometimes."

He laughed again, the uncomfortable edge in his voice increasing.

"Yeah, it's.. strange. But to answer your question, no. Um, I haven't done anything like that in a while."

"I mean, I think hook-up culture is kind of fucked. You're better off."

"No, I didn't mean it like that. Uh, I haven't done anything sexual."

You hesitated. "Like.. ever?"

"No, no, no, I've done it. Just not for a long time. I- I kind of have a mental block."

"What do you mean?"

"You know how I said it kind of feels like my boss is always in my head?"

"Yeah, I remember. Do you want to talk about it more now?"

"No, no, I just don't know how to explain what I'm trying to say. I feel like.. I can't do anything.. like that. Like, uh, sexual. Even if it's just alone. I don't know. I feel like he's there watching me or something, and then that kind of just makes me want to.. you know, stop."

You took a beat, processing his words.

"Are you referring to, uh, pleasuring yourself?"

He swallowed audibly. "Yeah. Sorry, that was.. I shouldn't have brought that up."

"No, that's okay. If this unhealthy relationship with your boss is an issue that's affecting your sense of privacy, and interrupting personal rituals such as, um, masturbation, I think we need to discuss it."

This conversation had certainly not gone where you expected it to, but you attempted to remain somewhat professional as you felt the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Your work is only part of you," you steamrolled on, taking advantage of his embarrassed silence. "We've talked about this - how it, how he, doesn't define your entire identity. This is an example of something in your life that has been deterred by your codependence: your inability to fulfill your own sexual needs."

"Oh. I didn't even think of it that way, but you're completely right. Shit."

"I usually am."

"So, uh, what do you think I should do about it?" he said.

You were completely unable to read his tone. He sounded so utterly earnest despite the fact that he was asking you how he should comfortably fulfill his sexual needs. You decided to test the waters.

"Um, where are you right now?"

"I'm in the apartment I rent. I was scared my boss would overhear our calls if I stayed there."

Your eyebrows shot up involuntarily. "...So you went and rented an apartment?"

"Uh, he has a lot of money."

"Yeah, I guess he does." You cleared your throat. You were trying desperately not to lose your nerve. "You're alone, right?"

"Yes."

"And you trust me?"

"Of course I do."

"I'm going to ask you something, and I want you to only say yes if it's what you want. Okay?"

Fuck, you were really doing this.

"Okay," he replied.

"Um, well... How would you feel if you.. did it? On call with me? I could guide you, make sure you feel comfortable." You held your breath as you heard only silence from the other end.

"Er.. do what, exactly?"

"Um. Touch.. yourself. Shit. I'm sorry. I realize I should not be asking this-"

"Yes. I want to," he cut you off, his words so rapid they blurred together.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. I really like you. And like I said, I trust you. I'm also, uh, very, very attracted to you."

"I feel the same about you," you said softly.

"Tell me what to do," he responded breathlessly. You could hear him shifting around on the other end of the line.

"I've never done this, before, uh.. are you hard?" You cringed. "I really hated how that sounded. Fuck."

He laughed, quiet and musical. "Yes. I was almost as soon as you brought this up."

"Okay, we should probably, um, establish some ground rules. If you want to tap out, just tell me you're done. We can never speak of it again. And tell me if anything I tell you to do makes you uncomfortable. But, uh, there is one thing I want to do, if you're okay with everything else."

"Yes?"

"I want to be the one who controls when you cum."

"I'm at your service," he breathed.

Your heart skipped a beat. "Don't make me sound like your boss."

"I'm not gonna be hard for much longer now that you brought him up."

"Shit. I'm really bad at this, Renfield," you laughed.

"No, no. Just give me your instructions, please."

It was hard to ignore your own arousal pooling in your stomach, the wetness that was rubbing against you when you moved. "Okay. Uh, remove your clothes."

You heard shuffling for a minute as he complied. "Done."

You braced yourself for the next sentence. "Alright. I want you to start stroking yourself, gently."

"Am I allowed to use some kind of lubricant?" he asked.

You tried to stifle a laugh. "Yes, whatever works. You don't have to ask permission for that."

You heard squelching sounds on the other line, and then the unmistakable sound of him slowly stroking his cock.

"Hey, uh, I have something to ask you," he said softly, stopping.

"What is it?"

"Could you, um.. praise me? You know, tell me I'm doing a good job, and everything? Comfort me, I guess." His voice swelled with hope and maybe something like shame.

You hated that he probably never heard anything like this, that he was looked down upon and berated daily. You desired so strongly to be there with him, to show him how perfect he was with your touch and not simply your words.

"Yeah, of course." You waited a moment until you heard him resume.

"You're so eager to please me, huh? I bet you look so fucking hot right now, stroking yourself to the sound of my voice. You're so good for me, aren't you?" you drawled.

"Yes," he murmured. "I think I should let you pick up the pace, since you're doing so well. What do you think?"

"Yes, please."

"Okay. Faster."

You heard him comply on the other line, the sounds of slapping against skin increasing in intensity and his stifled groans amplified.

"Do you have a TV?"

"What? Oh- u-uh, yeah."

"Stop for a moment. Turn it on and turn up the volume loud enough that anyone walking by can hear."

"Al-alright."

You waited.

"Okay, I did. Can I keep going now, please?"

"Yes, but I don't want you to muffle yourself. I want you to be loud for me. I wanna hear you."

"O- okay." He allowed the moans and grunts to leave his mouth freely, the droning of some news program playing in the background.

"Shit, you sound so beautiful. Don't stop, okay?"

"Mhm," he murmured through the noises of pleasure. You shut your eyes and allowed his exclamations to fill your ears.

"I-I'm close. Can I cum?" His voice was pleading, desperate.

"Not yet. Keep going. Just a little longer, okay, keep being good. You can do that, right? And then I'll let you cum."

"Y-yes," he sputtered, a hungry edge in his voice.

"So fucking good for me. Do you wish it was me getting you off instead of your hand?"

"Yes, s-so badly," he forced out through sighs of pleasure. "I think about you all the time. I-I'm so glad I met you. I didn't think you'd- like me too."

"Of course I do. How could I not?" you whispered affectionately.

He hummed in appreciation. "Fuck, you're so gorgeous."

He grew louder, his noises more strained. You continued your soft words of encouragement, turned on by the effect they had on him.

"Can I cum now? P-please?" He begged.

"Do you think you deserve it?"

"Y-yes, I think so. But only if you do too."

"Okay. I think you do. Cum for me."

He let out a loud moan, pumping in rapid succession until he slowed and stopped, breathing heavy. The two of you sat in silence for a few seconds as he came down from his high, his panting slowing.

"You did so well, Robert. It felt good, didn't it?" you prompted.

"So good. And you- you were perfect."

"I wish I could see you right now."

"I want to see you too. I don't want this to only happen once. I loved it, doing this for you. Thank you." His voice was full of adoration.

"It was for yourself, too. But I can't pretend I wouldn't enjoy if you thought about me every time you jerked off."

"Who else would I want to think about? It's you, always."

You flushed, smiling at his words. You wanted to talk longer, but there was an urgent problem that you didn't think you could delay any further. "Hey, I'm really glad we did this. Are you good for the night? Do you need me to stay on the line while you clean yourself up?"

"No, it's alright. We'll talk soon, beautiful. I appreciate you so much. Good night."

"Good night, Robert. Sleep well."

You hung up the phone, finally free to attend to your own situation. You laid back on your bed with your hand working its way beneath your unzipped pants, Renfield's noises of pleasure playing over again in your head.

author's note: renfield is so baby girl <3 and thank you for the continued support my #1 fan (you know who you are)

#renfield movie #renfield 2023 #renfield x reader #nicholas hoult #rm renfield #renfield smut #renfield x reader smut #smut

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shinescape · 9 months

Text

Chosen for Heaven, Cursed for Love

Mingi x Fem Reader

tw: blood, injury, it is pretty angsty

note: finally an official oneshot for my cutie patootie song mingi! I have held this idea for so long and finally got to it! Also didn’t expect it to be this long considering how i kind of lost my rhythm in writing and do note this is a work of fiction. Enjoy the read!

“never talk to strangers.”

“do not open the door to anyone.”

You’ve been told this many times by your mother. Growing up she was always protective of you but in a slightly unnecessary way in your opinion. You know she meant well but you are practically an adult now and although she doesn’t remind you of the warnings anymore, her voice is clear as the first time you heard it when you were a child. It was more prominent the moment your eyes stared right at a figure dragging himself outside the road.

The thunders were exceptionally active tonight and you were binge watching a series but something at the back of your mind told you to pause and head straight to the window. Following your instincts, carefully you stepped closer to the window, pushing the curtains just enough for you to see the situation outside.

It was still raining but not as harsh as earlier when you were having dinner with both your mother and grandmother. Three women in a house together somehow made you feel the need to be extra protective like how your mother was to you. As the youngest in the household, naturally you were to obey the elders, especially your grandmother.

However, the sight of a lone man with head hung low dragging himself in the pouring rain made you want to act on impulse. You could not make it clearly but it seems there’s a trail of liquid behind him. It made you extremely curious. Not thinking of the consequences, you were determined to find out what you saw was real or just a fragment of imagination.

Looking back at their bedrooms to make sure none of the two was awake, you grabbed the keys and carefully unlocked the door and went out. Only then you realised that there was no need to be quiet because it was raining so heavily. The road was empty except for the man and without a second thought you ran towards him not expecting him to stop for you.

“Excuse me, are you lost?” Just then you realised that this would be a perfect scene in a horror movie and how dumb of you to not calculate your actions before deciding to casually talk with this stranger.

You expected him to be frail but the closer you were now, he was tall and had quite a build. His eyes were shaped in a way that would pierce through your heart like daggers but it suddenly softened when he took in your features.

“...princess” he mumbled out but you couldn’t hear due to the storm and held his arm instead. “Your back is bleeding, did you get into an accident?” He said nothing and only had a very solemn expression across his wet face.

You knew this was crazy but if this is how you die then so be it. “I don’t think the rain will stop any time soon. Do you mind coming with me?” Your mother will faint if she knew what you were doing right at the moment.

Again, he said nothing but slightly turned around letting you guide him. You passed a smile before letting go of his hand a walk ahead, actually feeling scared for your life. There is no turning back, I already invited him over.

You tried to calm your heartbeat and steadied your breath as you stepped onto the porch. He quietly followed behind you when you opened the door. “Can you go up by yourself? My room is on the immediate right. I’ll be right there.” You didn’t wait for his answer and headed straight to the kitchen trying to find a rag to wipe the blood covered floor.

“He’s bleeding a lot. I wonder what happened…” You made sure to take glances just in case any of the two ladies decided to get up and have a midnight snack and caught you suspiciously wiping the floor in the dark. You pat the floor and sniff your palm and surprisingly no stain or copperish smell was there.

Making your way upstairs and heading straight into your room, only to find him standing at a corner as if afraid he might break anything if he moved any further into your space.

“Come over to the bed, I’ll clean up your wounds.” You were way too cheerful about this strange situation and remembering that he was a stranger and potentially might be dangerous for everyone in the house right now had you switched your personality to a less friendlier one.

“I’m fine over here.” He noticed how your eyes widened when he spoke and averted his eyes away. Woah, he has a very deep voice. Snap out of it! It’s time to help. You grabbed a folding chair that happens to be in your room for some reason and called him over to sit which he was hesitant but listened to you anyways.

You observed his appearance and pinch a bit of the fabric he was wearing. It looked and felt like silk but somewhat rougher as you rub on it. “Do you mind if I take this off, I need to see how badly your injury is.” You can tell he was unsure about everything that was going on but decided to trust you. As he crossed his arms to take the top off, you heard him winced as he immediately hunched to the front.

“I guess the pain just got to you.” He remained in that position as you went to grab a pair of scissors and carefully cut it through the material on his back. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were seeing. There was a deep hole on each side of his back as if something was ripped off from his body. Taking off the cloth from his body you quickly pressed the wounds and hoped the bleeding would eventually stop.

You didn’t know why but hearing him hissing and groaning in pain worried you. From time to time you apologised and told him to hang in there as you cleaned his wounds up and bandaged the upper part of his torso. “My mother is a nurse so I know a thing or two. Although I must say this is my first time actually doing this.” You dabbed a wet cloth over his face and could not help but be awestruck at his defined features. But why was he wandering in the streets in the middle of a thunderstorm heavily injured?

“Can I ask what’s your name?” you were prepared for him to lash out at you but he didn’t and answered you simply with “Mingi.” You unconsciously smiled to yourself as you repeated his name unaware of his flustered reaction to hearing your voice saying his name.

“What actually happened to you, Mingi?” You asked as you plopped down in front of him and started putting band aids on his feet to which he surprised you by grabbing hold of your wrist. “Y-you don’t have to go that far...” It seemed that he didn’t trust you enough to share anything other than his name. You take that as a cue to back away and give him space.

You watched as Mingi mustered up all the energy left to sit up straight. At the sight of his pained expression, you softened even more feeling helpless at your limited capabilities to help him feel better. “I have a bathroom over there, you can use it while I grab a change of pants for you to wear.” His face remained unchanged as he continued to stare at you. Before standing up to leave the room, you did not forget to pass him a smile.

It was like mission impossible for you, going into the spare room and even sneaking into your mother’s room to find anything that belonged to your father or grandfather and actually managed to do so. Placing the pyjama pants in front of the bathroom, you informed Mingi about the garment and went about the sleeping arrangement for the night.

You heard the door open and turned to speak only to flutter your eyes away at the sight of him. “You can have my bed, I’ll sleep right here.” You pointed at the space right next to the bed. He stepped closer with yet the same pained expression. You wonder if it’s from his injuries or something else that you have no knowledge of.

“You don’t have to do all this”

“I want to. I don’t feel great if you sleep on the floor with such serious wounds.” You gave him no choice and quickly laid down on the layered futon you made. Mingi huffed at your actions and reluctantly went to occupy your bed. You heard him groan and peek through the blanket to watch him find a comfortable position to rest. He did not notice you sitting up and observing him toss and turning on the bed until you let out a sound.

“I think the only way to sleep is on your front.” You patted your chest and gave him a lopsided smile. He sighed, taking your advice as he lay down on his front, head turning to the side. You too were back under the blanket and stared right at the ceiling. It was indeed a weird night for you. Initially everything seemed crazy and dangerous but those feelings seemed to die down as the night went by.

“Would you believe me If I say I fell?” At his voice, you turn to your side and look at him genuinely interested. “You fell?” He nodded. “I fell…from the sky.” He scoffed at the obvious confusion written on your face. “Are you being serious right now?” Again, Mingi nodded.

“I know you won’t believe me. But that’s what happened.” His lips slightly curved upwards as if hoping for you to believe him despite knowing that would be impossible in that short amount of time.

“I believe you,” His eyes widened at your words. “But there has to be more to that, right?” You yawned right after and Mingi could only watch as you slowly drift off to sleep leaving him alone to his thoughts.

The warmth and slight sweat woke you up from the fantasy-like dream. Looking around, you realised that you were no more on the floor and was laid down on the bed with the heavy comforter covering you like a baby. “I wasn’t dreaming…” slightly panicking in your half awake state, you stepped down and went straight to the direction of the voices that seemed too normal to be true.

Your eyes met. There he was, the man that wasn’t part of your dreams but was clearly in your room last night, lying almost pathetically on your bed. Your eyes then glance to the women, your mother had this stiff aura around her while your grandmother ushered you to come closer.

“I can explain” You nervously said, voice trembling as your palms came up in defence. “Sit down, dear. Mingi here told us everything.” Confused was an understatement at that moment. What does she mean by he told them everything? The only man at the dining table did not utter a word as he fiddled with the mug’s handle as if it was the most interesting item at that moment.

“He told us…where it’s more like grandma here figured out what happened. And you better thank the Heavens that it was her who found out first and not me.” Your mother sighed with a disappointed look and you were sure that Mingi’s body reacted to the word Heavens. Everything was happening so fast, you had so many things to say and to ask but nothing was coming out of your mouth.

“I found this feather outside your bedroom door. Right after that, this young man opened the door and gave me a good surprise.” The old lady laughed as she stroked the single bird-like feather in her hands.

“Your mother and I changed his bandages since it was soaked with blood. You did well trying to help this unfortunate young man, dear.” Her words were sincere and felt like a compliment but the daggers from your mother said otherwise. As if telling you that bringing Mingi in your house was the last thing you should have done.

There was a short silence hanging in the air before he suddenly spoke. “Can we talk? Just the two of us?” You turned to look at him and unconsciously nodded at his words. He stood up, excused himself and walked away. “Sweetie, whatever you do, please think of yourself first.” Getting slightly annoyed by your mother, you said nothing and went to find Mingi.

You saw him by the steps outside and went to sit next to him. “Hey” you murmured, enough for him to hear you. It felt awkward and kind of weird and you then realised that you were still in your pyjamas which was fine considering you were at home but there is this inhumane looking being right next to you that made you feel inferior all of a sudden.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, totally! Sorry…I mean yes everything is fine.” Clearing your throat, you calmed down and continued, “You wanted to talk to me, right?” His eyes never left your face as if trying to remember every detail and sketch it in his mind on repeat. The way your head tilted made him feel something he never experienced before.

“This is going to sound really weird but I actually fell…”

“Yeah you told me last night-”

“From heaven”

“Oh”

There was a deafening silence as you hugged your legs closer to your chest when the wind suddenly rushed over. “So that feather earlier was yours?” He nodded, worry painted all over his face as he waited for you to gather your thoughts. “Hold on, that injury on your back… Mingi, are you an angel?” A hand clasped over your mouth as you watched him frowned further at your words.

“I was one. But not anymore. A-are you scared of me?” You shook your head denying almost instantly. “No, of course not. It’s just…what happened?” You noticed he was a bit restless and carefully gathered his palms in yours, stroking his knuckles to assure him that you were indeed not scared of him.

“I desired for something I should not have even thought of in the first place. I wished to live as a human and that alone got me banished.” Your fingers curled tighter on his cold ones as you waited for him to continue on. “I was your guardian angel actually,” He chuckled dryly when your eyes widened at the revelation.

“I knew everything about you. How sensitive you are to others emotions, how you argue a lot with your mother and your grandmother always siding with you. I know how your father…how he called you princess to stop you from crying. I knew then that I had to be there for you, not from up there but right next to you.” Mingi then pressed his forehead to yours, his hands now shifted to hold yours instead.

“I was different from the rest. I had human emotions and I realised that I was in love with you. I wanted to be with you, princess.” His tears dropped right on your skin, each drop was warmer than the one before. Your lips parted wanting to utter something but as usual nothing came out. Everything happened so fast that there was no time to properly think and come up with something that will not sound half hearted.

You most definitely did not want to hurt him further than what he had gone through. You can’t even imagine the pain he endured from being different like the rest yet you had nothing to say to him as of that moment. Mingi backed away when he felt you pulling your hands from his hold. His face wore the most heart wrenching expression you have ever seen on a person.

You glanced back towards the door and windows, making sure there were no signs of the two nosy ladies before looking right back at Mingi. Shyly nodding your head, you waited for him to take the lead as you closed your eyes. Heat rushed to your face as embarrassment took over your whole being.

“I would have given you a big warm hug but I don’t want to hurt you.” Your eyes wandered to the bandages wrapped neatly around his torso. All of this was new to you. A fallen guardian angel confessing his love to you a day after you saved him from near death. How would one even react to all of this?

“Then, can I kiss you?” His deep voice interrupted the sea of thoughts that would have given away how drifted you were from the reality of the situation.

“Princess”

“Y-yes Mingi?”

“I don’t exactly know how to kiss. Can you-”

Cupping his face, you leaned over to kiss him before another thought could invade both your anxious minds. You felt his strong arms wrapped themselves around you, pulling you impossibly close as you deepened the kiss. A loud rumbling from above had both of you parted with chest heaving heavily from lack of air.

“I think the Heavens are angry with us.” You joked trying to lighten the mood when Mingi suddenly pulled you in for another hug, nuzzling his nose on your neck as he softly pressed his lips on your skin.

“I don’t care if they are. I have you this close to me and that’s all that matters. I love you princess. My heaven on earth.”

#ateez oneshot #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #atz x reader #song mingi #mingi x reader #atz mingi #atz scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios

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randomprose · 8 months

Text

i love that mo is just very flippant about this whole thing like 'tch. stop fucking around and just do it.' because we know he wasn't like that when she li did his first piercing. he was held down like a dog and it was done haphazardly with a thumbtack or some other random sharp thing.

but this one. this one he was the one who brought the piercer. he chose who would push that needle in for him and he chose he tian. the first time he asked he tian to pierce his ears was an impulse and he tian knew it then and so he declined respectfully. the second time mo asked him to do it, he handed he tian the piercer and he tian still didn't go through with it. he was giving mo more time to think about it. this time is the third time mo has asked him and even now he tian is still hesitating—but not because he doesn't want to but because even now he's still giving mo the chance to back out, the chance to change his mind, and he tian would let him. if mo suddenly decides he doesn't want this actually he tian would back off and they'll probably never bring it back up again (until mo wants to do it for real again) and mo knows that.

but that's not the case here. this time mo was in control—is in control—and he truly, really wants he tian to do it for him so much that he tian's consideration had stopped being sweet (slightly) and have started to irritate mo because what the hell just fucking do it he already asked thrice. what does he tian want him to do, beg?

and when he tian finally pushes that needle in, blows on the pierced flesh tenderly and mutters 'pain, pain, go away' like that's actually gonna work, mo basks in the aftermath, and the realization, and the pure utter relief that it did not hurt at all.

#19 days #tianshan #thoughts #idk man i just really love them #he tian #mo guan shan

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mtchacffinz · 1 year

Note

Headcanon that Al-Haitham enjoys mutual masturbation. It's not Inut, it's WEnut.

ANON YOU MAKE ME SICCKKKK lots of bantering.. more friction. with gritted teeth reader proposes who could make each other cum faster... they'd start fair, you're all about technique, and he's all about strategy. but is there really a difference?

prompt!!! mutual masturbation with your fave Scribe 🤭🤭

content!!! mutual masturbation, gn!reader, teasing, implied exhibitionism, under the table agenda, lmk if there's more!

note!!! kaf here ♡ may or may not been proofread properly, so excuse my typos! i giggled when i read "it's not Inut, it's WEnut"

This is serious. He's holding onto you so tightly, you could see his muscles flex and relax under your hold. A smug smile paints your lips, a hearty chuckle forming at the pit of your stomach. "You really get off to this?" Your leg was laying onto of his thigh forcing both your legs open for each other. You spit on his cock, slapping it teasingly to your thigh.

Al Haitham does nothing but let you deal with your own agenda. While his hands trace over your own sex, he finds irony in your own amusement. After all, he barely touched you, but you fail to see that you're already so worked up?

He doesn't miss the way your breath hitches when his hand brushes over those bundle of sensitive nerves. The scribes eyes trail over your throat that gulps everytime he emits a groan. Al Haitham's gaze is like that of a hawk.. stalking.. preying. Waiting for even a drop of vulnerability in you. Though he's not gonna deny the fact that you drive him absolutely fucking crazy.

When your hands are gently pampering his shaft, lubing up and giving love to his tip, Al Haitham's way of giving attention to your sex is a little more rough. Actively contrasting both your pace, it quickly began a battle of wits.

Now that he's wrapped his hands around your bitch, fuck— the way he strokes and tightens around your sensitive areas really melts you so good you almost want to get up and sit on his dick already.

Almost. Just almost. After all, you didn't raise yourself to be a whining quitter. So as soon as you added your teeth to the equation, the scribe suddenly changed demeanor. His eyes showed unexpected surprised, followed by his well hidden groan.

"Nngh..! Fuck. That's cheating." He dragged a hiss, whilst you lick his bruised shoulder in attempt to subdue the stinging pain. "..What's this? Can't be fair? I thought we were only using hands."

"I have many limbs, scribe. And they all have their purpose."

"You're laughable.." he says in a low mumble. You only draw closer to him, grinning. "—finding excuses.." he continues, taking back his hand that was drenched in your juices. Sticky and wet. It was a lewd sight, but what made it even more dirtier is how he licks all of you off his own digits, all that but never taking that piercing eyes off you.

Ah, shit.. I think I just came a little.

"You twitched."

"I did? Did I? Hmm.." you reply coyly. Al Haitham lips curved into a subtle smirk. That face again.. nothing good happens when he makes that face. Al Haitham waves it off, his free hands suddenly on your waist— dragging your posture a little lower.

"It's obvious you aren't comfortable in this position.. here. I'll help you." His cold hands snake up the back of your clothes. "You can arch a little more. Don't be shy now."

This little—

Impulsively, you let your spit drop to his tip, twirling your thumb around. His expression— a little strained, never falters. He only starts playing around with your sensitive areas; tracing circles, leaving marks, hell even slapping it just to hear that cute voice of yours. At this point, you're full on jerking his cock off. His breaths became more ragged, eliciting small vibrations in your core that turns you on a little more than you initially thought.

The way your eyes draw close, half lidded, cloudy and euphoric really puts the Scribe on edge. Seeing both your sex be gingerly played with by one another really gives wild visualizations. Is this how you play with yourself? You tease yourself to the point of breaking, and eventually go all out desperate for that release?

The room gets hot, or maybe it was just the both of you?

God, right now his scent is so intoxicating. There's nothing more than you want but just to ravish his stupid face right now.

There's that familliar sensation surging through both of your lower stomach, pace getting more and more inconsistent. Chasing that high, that knot in your stomach finally snapped as you both release on each other. White streaks of cum followed by broken moans— you held onto his arms tightly while he felt you spasm in your place, back arched as he delved into you deeper.

Working your way through both your orgasm, you both collapse onto each other. Your arm was numb, his fingers were twitching and all you could hear right now was Al Haitham's muffled breathing through the sound of his own racing heartbeat.

Hmmm♡ It seems that this round was a tie.

this prompt is fun.

#genshin impact #(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)mtchaskz #al haitham #al haitham x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #al haytham #alhaitham #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham smut

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fredwkong · 10 months

Text

Genie: Derrick's Wishes

Click here to see the genie’s first master.

Click here to see the genie's previous master.

Derrick had spent his whole life living by the rules. His white upper middle class upbringing meant that there were expectations for him, so Derrick had become exactly that. He dressed conservatively, kept his hair short and his facial hair shaved, and never did anything that might imply he wasn’t a perfect WASP-y straight boy. He hadn’t even come out to his closest friends.

That was, until Marco had come by. Something about his incredible body, seductive accent, and sexy scent had made Derrick throw caution to the winds and give him his number. Then he’d been invited over, and suddenly Derrick was one of the background characters in one of Marco’s famous livestreams. Marco had even let skinny, preppy little Derrick fool around with his fat Latino cock for a bit!

As all of the boys left for the night, Derrick hung back a bit. He didn’t want to go back into the real world quite yet, where he was little preppy closeted Derrick rather than a boy Marco thought deserved his attention. He was hanging around in the living room when he spotted a lamp sitting next to all of Marco’s dildos. On a strange impulse, he grabbed it and held it as he went to the door to say goodbye.

Marco looked down at the lamp and smiled a bit. “You like it?” he asked. He still had that sexy accent, though it wasn’t as broad as when he was streaming. Derrick was going to treasure having heard Marco’s real voice for the rest of his life.

In response to his question, Derrick just looked up at Marco, lost for words.

Marco gripped Derrick by the shoulder. “That’s okay, I think it wants to go with you, anyway. Pass it on for me when the time’s right, okay?”

With a deep kiss goodbye still tingling on his lips, Derrick went to wait for the night bus home.

The next morning, Derrick struggled to hold onto the good feeling last night had left him with. It was hard, hearing his mother moving around in the kitchen downstairs, desperately wondering if she would be able to tell he hadn’t actually been out at a university friend’s house last night. To delay, he decided to clean Marco’s lamp.

At the first stroke of Derrick’s polo shirt on the brass, a cloud of smoke burst from the tip, quickly forming into a buff, dark-skinned man in a leather harness and garters. “Greetings, cutie,” the genie bellowed. At Derrick’s panicked yelp, the genie made a quelling gesture. “No worries, only you can hear me. What is your wish?”

In the heat of the moment, with the panic of his family seeing a huge gay man in his room fresh in his mind, Derrick could only think of one thing that might improve his life. “I wish I wasn’t such a preppy conformist,” he gasped.

“Perf, got you.” The genie breathed out a long breath, and green smoke filled the bedroom. It concentrated around Derrick’s earlobes, nostrils, and around his neck, and Derrick felt a sensation like pinpricks as the smoke embedded itself in his skin. A layer also sank into his scalp and all over his clean-shaven jaw.

When the smoke faded, Derrick touched his ear and was surprised to find silver studs pierced into the lobes. There was also a ring in his nose and, when he looked at his reflection on his phone screen, he saw a geometric tattoo on his neck. The initial shock was quickly replaced with an unfamiliar confidence. This was a good look for him. It put on the outside the rebellious feelings he’d spent his whole life repressing.

“Make another wish tomorrow, babe,” said the genie, and dissolved into smoke.

At the breakfast table, Derrick’s mother refused to look at him, which just got Derrick feeling more angry and rebellious. What the fuck control did she think she had over him? As his anger stewed and deepened, the tattoos spread across Derrick’s chest and down one arm, while the studs in his ears transformed into tiny gauges.

Finally, Derrick’s father worked up the courage to ask why Derrick had suddenly gotten tattoos and piercings. None of them knew enough to tell that all of Derrick’s body mods were well healed, as if he’d gotten them months ago. “Is this about getting girls, Derrick?” his mom asked, her face still turned away. “It’s perfectly normal to still be single in your twenties—“

“I had sex with a man last night,” Derrick snapped, his voice cracking as it dropped a little deeper. A tongue piercing appeared in his mouth.

Complete, deathly silence fell in the dining room.

“I’m gay. I’m not gonna be one of those gays who pretends to be nice and normal for his family.” As he spoke, Derrick’s gauges grew, stretching his earlobes, and his hair and beard started to lengthen swiftly. “I’m gonna do the stuff I wanna do, okay?” He slammed his hands down on the table as his tattoo sleeve stretched onto the back of one hand. “Don’t fucking talk down to me again, okay?”

Before anyone could reply, Derrick stormed out of the room, his hair now shoulder length and his beard thick and black across his jaw.

Within five minutes, Derrick was at the bus stop, the lamp held loosely in one hand. He rode around the city for the day, and ended up at the hostel in the evening. He didn’t have enough money in his wallet for more than one night, but he figured vanishing for a day would have plenty of impact for his parents. He’d go back after he made his wish tomorrow.

The next morning, Derrick locked himself in the bathroom and released the genie. He had tossed and turned all night, thinking about his wish. Now that he was out, he’d thought about who would stand by him among his friends and family. There were a couple, but they were all straight-laced straight kids. What Derrick wanted most of all was to find some kind of a community.

The genie raised an eyebrow as Derrick hesitated, thinking over his wish one more time. It seemed incongruous, a tattooed young punk with long hair looking nervous and afraid. “I wish I had more of a community.”

“On it.” The genie lifted Derrick’s chin with two fingers, and poured a measure of green smoke from the lamp into his mouth. It seemed to thicken in his throat, and Derrick started to cough.

“That should do it,” said the genie. Blowing a kiss, he vanished.

As Derrick kept coughing, one of the other guys in the hostel pounded on the door. “You okay, mate?” he asked. No one had really spoken to Derrick last night, intimidated by his tatts and piercings, as well as his sullen attitude.

The coughing fit faded away. “I’m fine,” Derrick grunted, in a much deeper, smooth voice. Even in just two words, it seemed more expressive than anything else Derrick had ever said.

“Goddamn,” the other guy muttered to himself. “That’s a voice.”

Some of the guys invited Derrick to breakfast, and they kept asking him questions. His answers, in his deep, musical voice, seemed to come across as incredibly profound. By the end of the meal, the first guy who'd asked about him in the bathroom pulled Derrick aside and asked if he’d ever considered singing.

“Uh, no,” Derrick told him. He'd never had any musical talent at all.

“I think you could consider it.” The guy was dressed in black from head to toe, and had colourful streaks dyed in his hair. “My, uh, my band’s vocalist just quit yesterday, and I was gonna cancel our show today, but if you could come to our rehearsal…”

The guy was clearly tongue-tied, but something in Derrick’s mind told him to roll with it. “Sure, may as well try it,” Derrick said, and watched the guy melt at the sound of his voice.

The guy, whose name turned out to be Sam, was the bassist for an underground metal band. Derrick didn’t really catch what subgenre they claimed to be. “This was gonna be our first show, so of course the vocalist just broke up with the drummer,” Sam told Derrick as they walked to the rehearsal studio. “If you wanna, like, throw out the lyrics to any of his songs and write your own, it’s no problem.”

Derrick didn’t think that was how it worked, but he kept rolling with it. He felt nervy and confused until the moment Sam put him in front of the mic, and then everything suddenly seemed to flow perfectly. It was like his voice was made to sing.

Even during the show that night, Derrick found singing easy. He laughed nervously when Sam introduced him as “Ricky, our new singer.” The name ‘Derrick’ apparently didn’t match the new him. He forgot the words to half the songs, but he made up stuff and screamed even louder, and the audience loved it. The feeling of the drums through his body and the shouts of the crowd in his ears made him ecstatic, until he stripped off the polo shirt he’d been wearing since yesterday to huge cheers, revealing his tatts and a pair of nipple rings for the first time.

After the show, though, ‘Ricky’ felt like a wreck. He was full of pent-up energy, but had no idea what to do as more music started to pump in the venue. People seemed to want to dance with him or ask him questions, but he felt more and more out of place. Standing in the alley behind the club as the clock struck midnight, Derrick summoned the genie.

He’d never felt so free or as understood as when he was on stage singing for the crowd. Derrick wanted that feeling all the time, rather than always feeling like an outsider in a group. “I wish I could just be Ricky,” he told the genie.

With a snap of his finger, the genie surrounded Derrick in an impenetrable cloud of green smoke. His sneakers transformed into sturdy combat boots as his black jeans grew tighter and artfully torn, with chains around the belt. His skinny chest bulked up a bit, but the real change happened as the smoke sank into Derrick’s brain.

Ricky wasn’t a coward. He didn’t hide anything. He never felt uncomfortable in a crowd. In fact, Ricky was the life of the party, and he was gonna be a superstar. Ricky had never felt so confident in his life, and he gave the genie a cocky smirk as the smoke faded away.

As the genie vanished, Ricky pulled out his phone. There was a message from Sam, asking where he’d gone. Sam was pretty cute, the right mix of hunky and grungy that Ricky found hot. Ricky texted back: “Out back, come join me”

“You okay, Derrick?” Sam asked, pushing out the door a few moments later.

Ricky pulled him out the rest of the way and pushed him up against the brick alley wall. “Call me Ricky,” he said, and kissed him harshly. The lamp dropped from his hand as he grabbed Sam by the hips. Ricky didn't need it, he was gonna make it on his own, with Sam at his side.

Later, as the club was closing up, one of the exhausted shift closers was surprised to find an antique-looking brass lamp sitting right by the back door.

Click here to see all the genie’s adventures.

#male transformation #mental change #reality change #male tf #metalhead tf #tattoos tf #coming out tf #genie of the lamp #all fwkong

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bravevulnerability · 7 months

Text

say don't go

A/N: Post 4x06, Demons, AU. Picks up from exactly where the episode ends.

"The waiting is a sadness Fading into madness It won't stop... I'm holding out hope for you to say 'don't go' I would stay forever if you say 'don't go'"

'Say Don't Go' - Taylor Swift

Castle remains on the sofa long after Alexis shuffles sleepily off to bed. He thinks he did a sufficient job of taking her mind off of her complicated relationship with Ashley, but now that he sits alone, in the dark, with Ghostbusters playing on the television for the third time this week, his mind wanders to his own. Is his relationship with Beckett just as doomed as he feels his daughter's may be? He and Kate may not be long distance the way Alexis and Ashley are, but there are times when it certainly feels that way.

Sometimes his overthinking leads to the bad habit of drinking. He only means to blunt his thoughts of her with a shot glass of bourbon, some scotch, but then he's sleepy yet wide awake at the same time and drifting out the door on impulse and lost inhibition alone.

Anything is possible, he told Alexis, even the seemingly impossible. But he doesn't want Kate Beckett to be an impossible feat. He just wants her to be his partner, his best friend, and someday, more. And tonight, through the hazy thoughts fogging up his mind, he just wants to see her.

Kate is sitting at her dining room table, a glass of wine in her hand and a puzzle in front of her. She frowns down at the array of black cats scattered about a pumpkin patch, the thousand piece monstrosity spread before her. Burke said she should find something to distract herself with when she's feeling overwhelmed - something tangible and engaging, like a puzzle. Maybe she should have been less ambitious with her choice.

The knock on the door is almost a relief.

She pushes away from table, sets down her wine, and glides toward the entryway with something like anticipation brimming in her chest. She knows it's him. Who else would it be?

"Still afraid of the demon, Castle?" she chuckles, swinging the door open.

He's standing on the other side, swaying slightly on his feet.

He blinks, brightens. "Kate. Hi."

She tilts her head at him quizzically. "Castle. Have you been drinking?"

"What?" he sputters, lifting an affronted hand to his chest. She purses her lips as he lists further to one side. "No. No, it's just - it's the witching hour, Beckett."

"Excuse me?" she deadpans, but he's pushing his way inside. Kate sighs and shuts the door behind him.

"The witching hour! It's the time of night when witches, demons, and ghosts are thought to be at their most powerful," he rambles on, making excited gestures with his hands. "Times vary, but it usually happens after midnight."

"So," she surmises, strolling towards him as he paces in her kitchen. "You're here to... protect me?"

He nods, solemn.

"We've been dealing excessively in the supernatural this week, Beckett," he murmurs, narrowing his gaze on her. "What if we upset the balance?"

"The only balance upset tonight is yours," she chuckles, stopping in front of him and placing a steadying hand to his waist. "Did you catch a cab here, or car service?"

"Cab," he sighs, leaning towards her. She quirks an eyebrow as he touches his hand to her shoulder, his fingers curling around the hair still twined in a loose braid. "You never wore your hair like this before."

Kate ignores the low, thoughtful timber of his voice, the intensity of his gaze on her.

"I don't always have the energy to style it," she shrugs, letting him play with the rope of her hair. "Keeping my arms up too long aggravates my scars. So sometimes just letting it dry on its own and tying it back is easier."

"Right," he says, sobering slightly, dropping her hair. His gaze drifts to the covered spot on her chest where he knows a bullet pierced instead. "Right."

"It was helpful for this case to have it out of my face, though," she scrambles, not even sure why she does. Only that she wants to see him smile again, to keep the darkness from his eyes. "Made it easier to ghost hunt."

His lips quirk at that.

"Speaking of... since you're here, do you maybe want to watch a movie? Something on theme?" she hedges, chewing on her lip nervously. But Castle only brightens, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Oh yeah! There's a horror movie marathon on right now!"

He scrambles around her to reach the couch, hitting her coffee table on the way. Kate rolls her eyes, but follows him with warmth spreading through the usual ache of her chest.

A bloodcurdling scream startles him awake, his arm reflexively tightening around the warmth of Kate's shoulder- oh.

Castle blinks past the grit of sleep in his eyes, enough to look down and find the curl of Kate's body beside his. She's sleeping hard, her limbs heavy and loose against his, puffs of her breath escaping from the slight part of her lips and pooling along his clavicle. He checks the laptop in front of them, the small screen with a black and white film playing on the coffee table - some slasher film he doesn't remember them starting.

He sighs and relaxes back against the plush of her couch and the nest of blankets around them. They both must have dozed off during the first film, shifted closer through lack of consciousness - because this is definitely not the position he remembers watching the movie in. It's the only conceivable notion for Kate Beckett cuddling up against him like this.

"S'wrong?" she mumbles, her shoulders shifting against his chest, her head lifting from the alcove between his neck and collarbone. Her hand rises from beneath the throw across her shoulders and rests on his chest. "Heart's racing."

"Movie," he assures her quickly. "I heard screaming, woke me up."

She hums, still not totally awake and drops her cheek back to his shoulder, nuzzles him. Oh god. It's a Halloween miracle. A torturous, wonderful miracle of a moment.

"Must be late," she yawns, her eyelashes tickling his throat.

He swallows hard. "Yeah, I - I better go. I think I slept off most of the alcohol, I'm sorry. I-"

"Why'd you come here tonight, Castle?" she questions softly, the drowsiness leaking from her voice as awareness swam to the surface.

"I... missed you," he tries, going for lighthearted, but he can feel the dismissal emanating from her.

"You saw me a few hours earlier," she reminds him.

"Yeah, but then... well, me and Alexis were talking, about relationships, and I started thinking about you. Then she went to bed and I starting drinking a little too much too soon-"

"Thinking of me makes you want to drink?"

"What? No, no," he sputters quickly, his heart picking up a panicked speed again. "I just - I had a couple of glasses and I'm - I'm always thinking about you, Kate. Sometimes a little too much. I didn't mean to just show up, but I... when I'm not with you, I wish I was. I think the alcohol just made it easier to rationalize doing something about it."

She's quiet for a long time and he wants to jump out of the window behind them. He's an absolute idiot. Maybe he still has more liquor in his system than he thought.

He's thinking up a way to get out of this gracefully, to preserve whatever dignity he may have left, when she turns her body further into him.

"Oh Castle," she sighs, the melancholy so heavy in the exhale of his name. "I'm sorry."

His brow furrows and he cups her shoulder. "Sorry? Beckett, you didn't do-"

"I feel like I'm just... keeping you in some stupid limbo," she mutters, fisting a hand in the chest of his t-shirt.

"Kate, no," he protests, but her head is already shaking. "Hey, we're waiting. I agreed to wait and I'm okay with it."

"Castle-"

"I'd wait forever, okay?"

A broken noise escapes her lips and then she's shifting against him, rotating in the curve of his arm to face him, desperate eyes meeting his.

"Not forever," she whispers, more vulnerable than he's ever seen her. "And it shouldn't - it doesn't have to be miserable."

He tilts his head at her, confused. "It's not miserable. This-" He waves a hand between them. Her knees are bent into his lap, his arm is loose and low at her back, and he can feel the heat of her breath on his chin. "Is not miserable."

Kate quirks her lips, but shakes her head at him. She leans forward, her forehead grazing his, their noses bumping. He sucks in a quiet breath.

"No," she murmurs, her lashes low and hiding her eyes from him. "But the day to day? The wanting? I'm kind of miserable, Castle."

He clings to the thoughtless courage that brought him here tonight and reaches forward, his palm curving over the heat of her nape as he drags her in close. He catches her sigh of relief on his mouth when he seals his lips to hers.

Castle buries his fingers in her hair, dismantling the beautiful twine of her braid, but she doesn't seem to mind. Kate cups his face in her hands, rising on her knees to tower over him as she does. He can't contain his moan, his gasp of her name when she opens her mouth over his, caresses her tongue to the seam of his lips.

He leans back further into the sofa, her chest falling flush against his as she follows, keeping close. His hands are ceaseless in their exploration along her spine, trailing the bones of her vertebrae, tracing the hem of the loose sweater, the band of her leggings. She hums at the first touch of his fingers to naked skin, the spark palpable, and he splays his hand wide across her lower back to trap it there.

He barely realizes she's in his lap, her thighs astride his hips until he's clutching his hand in her hair again, tearing away from the perfect dance of her lips for air.

She damn near whines - a sound he was not ready for - and nips at his jaw. His hips jerk and they both still.

"Kate," he murmurs, gentling her with the massage of his fingertips to her scalp. Her head falls to his shoulder and he drops his back against the head of the sofa. "I think this might be the best Halloween ever."

She chokes out a laugh. "Halloween is tomorrow, Castle."

"No, it's past midnight. It's today," he argues wistfully. She sighs and it feels so normal already, bickering between makeouts on her couch. Oh, please let this be his new normal. "Speaking of, do you want to come over tomorrow night, help handout candy to trick-or-treaters?"

He feels her throat work with a swallow, but he doesn't move, doesn't say anything. He lets her think it through, lets her imagine a sense of normalcy that goes beyond this massive leap they took tonight.

"Yeah," Kate decides, sitting back on his knees. She offers him a shy smile, her lips kiss-swollen and lovely. She bridges her fingers at his nape, brushes her thumbs to the fine hairs at the base of his scalp. "I'd like that, Castle. I'd also like it if you were here in the morning," she adds, lowering her eyes to the collar of his shirt that her fingers absentmindedly straighten. "We could talk more about... this, over coffee."

He reaches up, strokes one of the stray curls from her cheek.

"Then tell me not to go," he tests. "Tell me to stay."

Kate unfurls from his lap to stand and snags his hands on her way up, dragging him along after her. He rises from the sofa with stiff knees, stumbling into her, and she grins, wrapping arms around his neck. And he can't help marveling at her even then, with her hair a wreck from his hands and her clothes askew, the city at their backs painting streaks of lights across her face, her sparkling eyes and the smile she saves for him and him alone.

"Don't go." She takes a step backwards, leading him towards a half-opened door, to what he assumes is her bedroom. She pauses in the doorway and arches on the toes of her bare feet. "Stay with me tonight." She presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, dropping another to his cheek, the crease of his eye. "Wake up with me in the morning." His heart is pounding and he tangles his arms around her waist, pulls her in close. Her lips form a smile against his skin. "Then take me to the loft to prep for trick-or-treaters."

He smiles into the kiss he presses to her lips. He kisses her until they're both breathless and stumbling into her bedroom. They trip and land in a heap on her bed, his body half atop hers as he rises to an elbow, strokes his thumb to the harsh bone of her smiling cheek.

"Happy Halloween, Beckett."

She chuckles against his mouth when he kisses her again, her arms banding firm around his neck and tugging him closer.

"Might just be my new favorite holiday."

#castle fanfiction #castle x beckett #castle au #kate beckett #richard castle #castle #4x06 #mine #happy halloween to all #and to all a good night #and happy november!#I did not have time to edit this #so I apologize for what I'm sure are numerous errors

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possibilistfanfiction · 5 months

Note

I love your butch!Bea AU, so maybe something where Ava is just a silly little guy and Bea is just so done with Avas tomfoolery

‘do you have to be so…’

you grin. ’so what, bea?’

‘it’s just not going to work,’ she says, utterly worn down. it’s fun, though, to be honest, making her huff and roll her eyes and laugh at your antics with no stakes involved.

‘well, how do you know?’

you watch with a fair amount of delight when she goes through, quite passionately, a list of everything known about the halo and its healing capabilities, its protective nature over you and the ones you care for. she’s in a soft, big hoodie and blue socks that are wearing out at the heels — her favorites, so she’s reluctant to part with them, you think — curled up on the edge of the comfortable couch in your living room, a pillow in her lap. she’d gone to the barber yesterday, as she does every three weeks like clockwork now, and her fade is as neat as you’ve ever seen it, the short top, an inch long, perfect for you to run your fingers through, as far as you’re concerned, messy from sleep. her glasses are a little smudged and she’s languishing with her cup of coffee so, even though she could kill a man in less than a second and has been into triathlons (terrible) lately — you are not intimidated or deterred by her in the slightest.

there’s a whoosh of sulfur and then mary and lilith are popping into your house, effectively stopping beatrice’s laundry list of reasons your plan will never work.

‘what’s he trying to do now?’ mary says, headed to the kitchen while lilith settles into her favorite reading chair, seemingly disengaged but you know she’s listening.

beatrice looks pointedly at you.

‘i’m feeling like doing something impulsive,’ you announce.

‘you? impulsive?’ lilith scoffs — a point for you, though, because she was paying attention. ‘who would’ve thought?’

‘whatever,’ you say, no bite in it. ‘i thought it would be fun to get a piercing, but beatrice is claiming i can’t.’

‘you want to pierce your —‘

she turns red without even saying it. ‘nipples,’ you finish for her, a grin on your face.

‘never mind,’ mary says, walking over to lilith with two cups of coffee. ‘i can’t listen to this. beatrice, text me,’ and then they’re gone.

‘did they just abscond with our mugs?’

beatrice sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. ‘what’s this really about?’

‘uh, it would be hot, i think. obviously.’ you roll your eyes. ‘and, like, everyone normal can do all kinds of impulsive shit that i can’t. what if i just really wanted to, like, skydive? or get a face tattoo?’

‘ava,’ she says, undeterred and a little weary. ‘what’s wrong?’

you swallow, the question hitting you square in the chest in a way you didn’t expect. it’s something, to be so seen and understood by someone. ‘nothing is wrong, really, i guess. i don’t know.’

she reaches for your hand and you sit next to her, lace your fingers together.

‘i just — with everything going on with my back, i guess i just feel, like…’

‘a loss of control?’ she asks, patiently after you’d been quiet for a while.

you feel yourself let out an honest-to-god whine before you can stop it.

she smiles, a little sad and a little determined — she’s been waiting for this, you’re pretty sure, which is equal parts sweet and annoying. ‘i have an idea that i think might work better than nipple piercings to help you feel better. we can leave tonight even, if you want.’

you perk up and her smile blooms even further. ‘while i do definitely want to hear your idea of impulsivity, i just also need you to know that nipple piercings would be hot.’

she really does consider it. ‘perhaps,’ she offers.

‘i’ll take that as a yes,’ you say. ‘tell me about your idea.’

she sits up a little straighter and explains, hesitant enough at first to gauge your reaction, that she’s been researching adaptive ski and snowboarding programs.

‘the alps?’ you ask, immediately a little teary.

‘if you’d like.’ she picks at her nail for a moment. ‘i’ve found ones closer to here as well, so wherever you’d like to go, we can go. just say the word.’

‘you really mean that?’

‘of course i do,’ she says, so sure, so steadfast. ‘and, plus, you know i’ll enjoy myself too.’

‘ah, yes, with your double black diamonds. insane.’

‘well, and the aprés ski with you.’

you grin and kiss her cheek. ‘as long as you promise to dance with me.’

‘i’ll do anything you want to make you happy, ava,’ she says, and it hits you in the chest that she means it. she means it, even though you’re mostly full of nonsense half the time, and you like to play pranks on her, and sometimes you get stoned and pester her to watch grace and frankie with you even though she’d been trying to read. she loves you through it all, the worst days, and you love her the same: when her hands shake; when she’s frustrated; when she worries so much about decisions she’s immobilized; when she’s too strict, even now. partnership, you’ve realized, is a practice.

‘switzerland, then?’

she smiles and kisses you. ‘i’ll book everything now.’

‘you have a spreadsheet, don’t you?’

‘of course,’ she says, as if there couldn’t be any other option. you laugh and she pulls it up on her laptop — there really are tabs on the sheet for at least six different programs that vary geographically and by difficulty level, and she’s also mapped out places to stay and restaurants you might enjoy, as well as other local attractions.

‘this is so extra,’ you tell her, your voice a little shaky and the glance out the side of her eyes telling you, without words, she’s onto you. but it doesn’t matter: she gets everything all set up for tomorrow morning, and it’s there: love greater than this world, laid out in confirmation emails and conditionally formatted columns. ‘maybe we can visit jillian after,’ you say, the alternative being bursting into tears.

beatrice hums, never opposed to the idea of a trip to spain.

‘she could figure out how to pierce my nipples,’ you say, and beatrice groans. it’s the little victories.

#avatrice fanfic #wn fic #wn #avatrice #ava rly is just a silly little guy but honestly i get it #idk what i'd do without impulsive tattoos... girl i understand lol #butch bea 🥺🫡

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tahdashi · 1 year

Text

tadashi w a lip ring. that's all.

when yamaguchi told you that he had a surprise for you, you didn’t expect this.

you expected something sweet — some chocolate, your favorite drink, or even one of his old karasuno hoodies that he likes to give you when it gets colder out.

but when tadashi shows up at your door tonight, you’re floored to say the least.

“no. way,” is all that comes out of your mouth. he looks at you with a look that screams ‘it was impulsive, please say you like it.’

“do you like it?” he steps into your apartment, toeing off his shoes before shrugging his jacket off his shoulders.

"let me see it again," you twirl around his figure, ogling at the silver ring in his lip. honestly, you'd never expect tadashi to do something like this, especially with an office job lined up right after he graduates in a couple months, but for some reason, you can't stop thinking about how good he looks — his hair frames his face and falls past his eyes. his lips, although delicate, make him look as if he's been kissed a thousand and one times. they're naturally pink, but the piercing enhances the rosy hue you love so much.

"it looks really good. like, really good."

and now, you're staring at his lips.

and he's leaning in as if it's second nature.

"woah, wait, shouldn't you hold off on the kissing?" you push him away gently and a groan bubbles in his chest.

"three weeks."

"what?"

"no kissing for three weeks."

"so we're both gonna suffer from this?"

"but only for three weeks! after that, you get a boyfriend with a cool lip ring and even cooler kisses!"

"i still can't believe you just… went out and did that. not very like you mr. needs-his-google-calendar-to-function.”

"i was getting bored of how i looked,” he twiddles with the sleeve of his sweater. “and the guys kept saying that i could never do anything wild, so i wanted to prove them wrong… i thought you'd like it too.”

"i do.” you nod, and he smiles. “it’s hot, i won't even lie.”

his ears burn red, and your thoughts trail to what his lip ring might feel like against your warm skin — how it would feel against the column of your neck where he kisses you every night.

he clears his throat and looks away, but you catch the way he scratches the back of his head (his nervous habit. it’s cute, and he’s been doing it since you started dating).

and maybe, he’s thinking about it, too — how the ring would feel against your lips, your jaw, your shoulders.

waiting three weeks will be a challenge, especially when tadashi needs your kisses like air, but it’ll all be worth it, he thinks, if it means that you’ll continue to admire his lips like you are right now.

#this is short n silly i just needed to scream about him #pls hear me out guys #sayu.writes #yamaguchi fluff #yamaguchi tadashi #yamaguchi x reader #haikyu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader

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resident-gay-bitch · 6 months

Text

sirius being dramatic when finding out about jegulus + very side wolfstar and rosekiller

Sirius strode into the apartment without warning, tossed his keys onto the table with a loud clunk, and took a dramatic bow with a wolffish grin.

“So, what do you think?”

“Of what?” Regulus asked, deadpanning him, “Your dramatic entrance? You’re not a vampire, Sirius- also I told you that key was for emergencies only.”

“This is an emergency.” Sirius glared at him, straightening up, “I need compliments.”

“Oh, how out of character for you.” Regulus said sarcastically, stirring his tea with his spoon at the table.

Sirius flipped him off.

“Please, tell me your thoughts.” Sirius grinned, showing off his new look and flourishing his hair, “Honest opinions only, unless they’re mean. If they’re mean, just tell me I’m pretty instead.”

“You’re pretty.” Dorcas smirked, and Sirius flipped her off.

Sirius had gone on an impulsive whim this morning after a quiet breakfast with Remus had revealed he quite likes the edgy punk look. And whilst Sirius is well aware how much Remus adores his long hair and pretty rebel boy demeanour, mixining it up for a few months could only mean a bit of fun.

Besides, if the way Remus’ brain seemed to short circuit that time Sirius came home with a septum and a nose piercing meant anything, Sirius is sure the other man would absolutely melt now.

He’d gotten himself an eyebrow and lip piercing today, as well as an extra three in his ear. It was a painful feat, and Sirius will not admit that he cried and had to be given a lollipop like a child, but he did it.

He also cut his hair short, just below the base of his skull, short wavy locks that no longer frame his face like they once did. And underneath, he’s died it electric blue.

He chopped one of his old metal band tees through the middle for a rough crop, and put Remus’ too big black ripped jeans on, letting them sit low on the waist with a studded belt to keep from pantsing himself. He’s never really been one for having his briefs stuck up out of his pants, but he happens to be wearing dark blue ones today, and they match.

“I think you look lovely, Sirius.” Pandora smiled over her tea, sitting at the table by Regulus. Out of Regulus’ entire group of friends, Sirius likes her the best. She’s always the nicest to him. “Very punk rock.”

“Thank you, Pandora.” Sirius smiled.

“I think you look stupid.” Regulus said, because of course he did.

“Thank you, Reggie.” Sirius smiled.

“I think you look like me.” Barty said, leaning up against the kitchen counter, one foot on the cabinets behind him for stability.

Sirius furrowed his brow and looked Barty over. And… fuck, yeah, he did. Barty was also wearing a messily cropped shirt, briefs that stuck out of the hem of his low baggy sweats, but he usually wears jeans like these when he’s out and about. And his hair is almost identical to Sirius’, however there’s green in it rather than blue. And the piercings, he’s got loads of them, skin smothered with tattoos too.

“You stealing my look, Black?” Barty grinned.

“Yeah, Im very attracted to him right now.” Evan, who had his head resting on Barty’s shoulder, smiled, “You should go blue, Barty. Its hot.”

“Hey.” Barty nudged him in the side and Sirius blushed.

“Well, thank you Evan, however, I am happily committed.” Sirius smiled, taking another little bow, “I suppose I take that as a compliment too, Crouch?”

“Obviously.” Crouch snickered, “I feel honoured that the Sirius Black is trying to look more like little old me-“

“That was an accident.” Sirius pressed, pointing at him, “I just wanted to look cool for Remus.”

“So you think I look cool?” Barty laughed delightfully.

“That’ll work.” Dorcas grinned, “Remember when Remus and Barry shagged-“

“I don’t need a reminder of that!” Sirius shouted as the same time that Barty said, “Cas, I told you to stop bringing that up around Evan.”

“Oh, so she can bring it up when I’m not around, huh?” Evan asked with a snake like grin, “Do you like to reminisce when I’m not there, Barty? Are you unfaithful?”

“Never, dove.” Barty kissed Evans forehead and sent an evil glare Dorcas’ way, “Dorcas just likes to stir the pot.”

Dorcas and Pandora giggled to themselves.

“Okay, enough about you lot, more about me.” Sirius interrupted, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you think Remus will want to shag me when I get home? Ten being a lot-“

Sirius’ speech was interrupted by someone else letting themselves in through the front door and striding into the house.

“Love, I broke my glasses again, can you please fix them?” Sirius recognised that voice instantly, it was his best friends voice afterall. James walked right past Sirius in the entry way and leant in and smacked a kiss right on Regulus’ lips, “Missed you.” James muttered again, “I know it’s only been three hours, but I always miss you.”

Sirius is feeling a lot of confusion right now.

Regulus sends him a panicked glance over James’ shoulder, and then awkwardly looks up at James with pink cheeks. Sirius takes in the sudden tension in the room, at the way Pandora is sending Sirius a pleading look, at the way Dorcas is biting her lip in anticipation and looking between everyone, at the way Barty is clearly trying his best not to burst out with laughter, and the way that Evan is jabbing an elbow into his side and looking remorseful.

Suddenly Sirius is no longer confused. He feels more betrayed than anything.

James is fucking shagging his baby brother, isn’t he?

“Oh, Barty, by the way-“ James starts but he interrupts himself midway through, “I swear you were just-“ James turns and points in Sirius’ direction, and then spins back to Barty, “Why are there two of you?”

Barty bursts out laughing, “There’s only one of me, Potter.”

James swings back and forth, looking between them for a moment. And Sirius remembers how genuinely blind James is without his glasses. He usually can’t tell Remus and Peter apart when without them, their hair too similar in colour. So Sirius decides to help him out.

“James.” Sirius prompts when James’ back is to him, and he watches the way the other man immediately stiffens, “Are you snagging my brother?”

Regulus stands and slides James’ glasses onto his face before solemnly petting him on the cheek and sighing, “You’ve been wanting to tell him somehow.”

James slowly turns around, “Oh, Sirius, hi! Didn’t see you there, wow, new look. Very punk, Remus is sure to love it- hey, why don’t we go show Remus now? Yeah, let’s go right there and not talk about anything else-“

“James.” Sirius prompts again, glaring at him, “Are you, or are you not, shagging my brother.”

“Uhm, well… shagging’s quite a vile word, don’t you think? I prefer… love making-“

Behind him, Regulus groaned and began to bang his head on the cupboard whilst all of his friends lit up with laughter.

“Love making?” Sirius gasped, “James, that’s disgusting.”

“Well, it’s not really, it’s quite lovely.”

Sirius pretends to gag, “How long?”

“Erm… bit of an odd question considering it’s your brother.” James shrugged, “But, usually at least an hour-“

“No!” Sirius gasped, slapping his hands down over his ears, which hurt due to the new piercings. “I meant you two! How long have you been shagging?”

“Oh.” James turned bright red, “Yeah, I suppose that’s more logical. Uhm, maybe… like… mhgh…”

“I’m sorry?” Sirius asked, “Mind not mumbling?”

James pulled a wry face and shook his head. Sirius cocked an eyebrow, which also hurt.

Regulus groaned and leant over James, shoulder, “Six and a half month-“

“What!” Sirius shrieked, “You’ve been fucking m’y brother for six and a half months and haven’t told me?!”

“I don’t need to tell you all my personal business, Sirius.” Regulus said.

“Yeah, but, James does.” Sirius points at him.

“It’s true, I do.” James agreed, “Which is why I’m so sorry, Pads. I didn’t want to keep it from you, it’s just, we thought we should at first because I know you scared away the last two guys Reggie was involved with. And then… and then I just felt bad for lying and so I kept lying and… and now we’re here.”

Sirius shook his head at James, “I’m so disappointed in you.” He squinted his eyes, “Just fooling around with my brother like that-“

“We’re not fooling around, Sirius.” James defended, “We never were.”

“I don’t understand.” Sirius shook his head, “Are you shagging or not?”

James snickered, “Look, I didn’t even know I had a crush on Reggie till he kissed me one day, and then I immediately realised I liked him and… and well, we started going out. The shagging didn’t start till after then.”

Sirius took a little step back, looking them both over.

“It’s genuine, Sirius.” James smiled, putting his arm around Regulus’ shoulders, “I just didn’t- I was too scared… I was worried you wouldn’t approve of me for him.” James shrugged, “But we’re not just shagging… I love him.”

Sirius was taken aback, stuck silent for a moment. James loved him? Regulus was gazing up at James with flushed cheeks and a a smile he’d never seen his brother wear before, and it seemed like Regulus loved him back.

Sirius burst out crying.

James immediately rushed to his aid, making them both sit at the table, two chairs pulled out to face eachother. Regulus groaned and went to put on a new pot of tea.

James took Sirius’ hands, shushing him and looking terribly guilty, “I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Sirius. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Is… Is there something I can do to make me worthy of him? I can’t lose- I can’t lose either of you, I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

Sirius sobbed so hard he couldn’t even speak. He shook his head to try and communicate with James, but the message did not go across clearly.

James had started to cry too, “I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry, I should have- I know I shouldn’t have lied, especially not for so long. But I was so worried- worried about this. I can’t-“ James sobbed so hard he started hyperventilating, “I don’t want to loose- loose-“

“Okay.” Pandora muttered, getting in between them, “Look at me, let’s take some deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. With me now, come on, in through the nose… out through the mouth.”

Sirius and James sat there for a moment, following pandoras instructions. James’ glasses were cracked and foggy, and Sirius was dreading having to reapply his eyeliner for a second time today.

Regulus set some teacups down on the table and poured them each some midnight blue coloured tea, “Dora’s recipe. Supposed to calm you.”

“I’m sorry.” James muttered after taking a big sip of tea, “I don’t know what to do, Pads. I can’t lose you both.”

Sirius took a few sips himself, taking a moment to compose himself, “You’re not going too.” He smiled, his eyes begging to water again, “I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

“What?” James asked, taken aback, his voice sounded hoarse.

Sirius set his cup down with shaky hands and burst into more tears, but he smiled through them, and they weren’t nearly as heavy as before, “You love him?!”

James sent a nervous glance over at Regulus and tentatively nodded, “As much as I love you- but, differently, of course.”

That only made Sirius cry harder. He tried to talk again, but all that came out was incoherent nonsense.

“Sirius, stop wailing and just talk for Godricks sake.” Regulus scoffed, “Or you can fucking get out of my house.”

Sirius took a deep breath and sniffled, “I’m sorry… I just… you love him! Reggie deserves to be loved.”

“Oh.” James muttered, poking his glasses up his nose. Across the table, Regulus went silent. James smiled and nodded, “Yeah, of course he does.”

“And you deserve to be loved.” Sirius mumbles.

James snickers, “Well, I hope I do.”

“And… and you have such a big heart, and love people so… so… in the best way.”

James smiled and nodded.

“And Reggie-“ Sirius sobbed more, “He struggles- but he really loves who he loves with his whole heart.”

Regulus embarrassedly buried his head in his hands and Barty gave him a playful shove.

“Out of everyone in the world, I approve of you both the most for eachother.” Sirius sobbed, “And it just makes me so happy that you love eachother!”

There was a moment of silence before James started laughing in that way he does when he really adores something. He reached out and grabbed Sirius’ hands, squeezing them tight.

“It makes me so fucking happy that you approve.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sirius sniffled, “You’re my best friend, and he’s my brother. You’re my two favorite people, it only makes sense that you love eachother.”

“Do you mean that?” Regulus asked across the table.

“Of course.” Sirius nodded, reaching over to pet Reggie’s elbow, “And when you get married James will be my brother in law-“

“I bloody know!” James grinned, slapping his knee, “How good will that be?”

Sirius grabbed onto him excitedly.

After a moment, James smiled and wiped at the black smudge from Sirius’ tears, “This new look got anything to do with Remus’ thing for punks?”

Sirius smiled sheepishly, “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He liked it enough when you got those nose piercings, he’ll probably pass out seing you like this.”

Sirius chuckled.

“Come on, let’s clean you up and get you back home to him.”

Sirius smiled and nodded, “Thanks, Prongs.”

When Sirius got home, Remus did in fact malfunction. He couldn’t talk proper words for two whole minuets before he pointed to their room and muttered, “Bed, now.” And Sirius could never say no to his Moony.

★ ★ ★

Wow I wrote this at a regular hour in the day, hats off to me. This was inspired by @gaybubblehead and my texts about how they hc sirius goes through a phase where he looks just like Barty in terms of style and stuff and I honestly agree he would do that. I mean they came up with the entire idea of this basically and told me I should write it, and for once I actually delivered. lol

So this one’s for you my dude <3

It was silly, I started this with barely any direction and just let the story write its self. I should be writing my Christmas fic butttttt no.

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 17 days

Text

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

When I returned to the house, the room was quiet and still.

(Seems like Drake hasn't returned yet. What about Galileo?)

I stepped out into the hallway and saw a light coming from under his door.

After taking one deep breath to ease my nerves, I knocked on the door.

Mitsuki: "It's Mitsuki. Galileo, can we talk again? I want to apologize for earlier."

Though I believed he was inside, there was no response to my call.

As I contemplated waiting a bit longer, Galileo's voice broke the silence.

Galileo: "Come in."

(----!)

Relieved that he responded, I opened the door.

Upon entering the room, the window seemed to frame the starry sky like a large picture frame.

Galileo was gazing intently at the sky through the open window.

Mitsuki: "Galileo, I wanted to apologize for earlier."

Galileo: "Have you ever hated your own fate?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

Before I could finish my sentence, he murmured without turning toward me.

(My own fate?)

When he asked that question, what came to mind was the door that drastically changed my fate.

I traveled from the 21st-century Louvre Museum to 19th-century Paris and began living with the historical figures and the vampire in the mansion.

(At first, all I could think about was going back to my world.)

(There were times when I wondered why this had to happen, but...)

Mitsuki: "I have never hated my own fate."

Mitsuki: "There have been unexpected situations and things I couldn't control, but..."

Mitsuki: "I've also had many irreplaceable encounters."

(If I hadn't come to the 19th century, I wouldn't have had these moments with everyone.)

(I wouldn't have met Galileo either.)

Mitsuki: "I believe how we perceive fate is up to us."

Even if we suffer a tragic fate, it's up to us whether to drown in sadness or seek out even the tiniest shreds of happiness.

Mitsuki: "So, no matter what happens, no matter what fate we face, we can find our own path."

Mitsuki: "That's what I believe in."

Galileo: "I see."

He slowly turned to face me.

His eyes held a strong will, not tinged with anger or sadness.

Galileo: "You and I are different."

Galileo: "I hate my fate."

Galileo: "And the fate of this world, to the point where I wish to end it all."

Mitsuki: "Galileo..."

Galileo: "Even if you try to affirm my past, my thoughts won't change."

Galileo: "That's all I wanted to say."

Mitsuki: "Galileo, I..."

Galileo: "There's nothing more to talk about. I have no interest in hearing your apologies."

Galileo: "Leave."

Words got stuck in my throat as he rejected even my simple apology.

(Perhaps nothing I say will reach him now.)

Feeling lost, I turned on my heel to leave, but at that moment...

Mitsuki: "----!"

A sharp noise pierced through the window as a strong wind rushed in.

The wind whirled around the room like a vortex, sending papers flying off the desk.

Mitsuki: "Kyaah!?"

Thrown off balance by the wind, I slipped on the fallen documents.

As my vision flipped, I closed my eyes and felt something warm enveloping me.

Feeling no impact or pain, I gently opened my eyes and found him holding me close.

------------Flashback-----------

???: "Are you alright?"

---------Flashback Ends--------

(This again.)

His warmth and the sensation of being hugged triggered an old memory within me.

(This feels somehow familiar.)

As I lifted my head, I met his amethyst eyes.

Mitsuki: "Why did you help me?"

Galileo: "……."

Galileo: "There's no particular reason. I just acted on impulse."

(Impulse.)

(He said that to me before.)

(He's the one who would instinctively help others when it came down to it.)

Seeing this side of him, I couldn't help but think:

(He wasn't always cold-hearted.)

His cold demeanor was just a means to achieve his goals, but deep down, there was something softer and warmer inside.

I found myself wanting to believe that even more.

Returning to my room, I faced the window and gazed up at the night sky, just as he did.

(His hatred is so intense that he wants to end everything.)

His hatred was directed towards this world and himself.

(I feel like he might do something irreversible.)

(I came here to understand him, to know what he plans to do, and to stop him, but...)

(His hatred might destroy him too.)

The night sky was filled with shining stars, but there were also dark areas where there was nothing.

It was like a black hole, trying to swallow him and this world.

Meanwhile, Galileo gazed up at the night sky once again.

But even as he looked at the stars, his mind was filled with Mitsuki's words.

Galileo: "........."

He closed his eyes tightly, as if rejecting something, then opened them again.

And then...

Galileo: "Soon, the lunar eclipse will come."

Galileo: "Let's put an end to this blood-stained world."

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Next Part

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp jp #ikevamp galileo #ikevamp translations #cybird

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ikkosu · 4 months

Note

HELLO HELLO!! I hear you wanted some pharma or prowl. I have brought to you a request about pharma. Pharma with a reader whos studying to be a doctor/nurse? Maybe Pharma can tell the reader whats it like to be a cybertronian medic while reader can tell Pharma what they've been learning! Thank you btw, love your writings!!!

STUDY PARTNER

author’s note : thank you!! your words mean so much to me <3 I hope you don’t mind me adding a bit to that ask ! I had a lot of fun writing this and I’m not very versed in cybertronian biology so I tried (made up stuff that seems plausible but really just made up stuff)

summary : pharma’s darling pet is learning to be a medic and he’s appalled.short little fic.

warnings : none. fluff + playful banter. pre-delphi-tarn Pharma.

He almost pierced himself with the scalpel when he heard you over the comms, babbling about studying to be a medic and what gives.

A human medic, learning about Cybertronian biology? He couldn’t focus. Whatever you’re ranting about goes through one processor then the other. He’s more baffled that you’re already at your fourth year.

Primus, how’d this get out of hand?

Now, he’s forty feet off the ground, zooming towards your living space. Never mind the cold expanse of Messatine, this problem needed to be dealt with and quick. He approaches the organic area.

The suburban house comes into view and he catches sight of your open window; the dim glow of the yellow lights spooled out amidst the night. He’ll have to remind you to be more careful with security. But that can wait.

In the process of trying to fly into your window, really he’ll just destroy the damn wall to get in, the top of his wings were caught in the fully drawn blinds by a mere inch, and he scrambled, landing face-first into the cold floorboard of your room.

Not the safe landing he’d prefer to be honest. A shadow casts over him, he groans, and raises his helm to see your bare feet, trail it up to your shorts, your loose shirt then the deadpan of your face with a quirked brow. You’re clutching a myriad of books, papers sticking out, and your hair is a mess. You’re studying for the upcoming exams, no doubt.

“You know, there’s this thing.” You began, stepping over the large jet to head towards your desk, pulling the chair back and plopping your self on it. “It’s ahh, made of mahogany wood, six feet inches tall, with this thing called a metal knob — theres a door, Pharma.”

He stands up, dusting himself off. “I had to take drastic measures. And I will not lose another minute trying to get through your door. You never told me you were studying to be a medic, much less the year you were in. Did you realize how much remorse you’ve put me through?”

You look over your shoulder, brow quirked, “I told you five times max. Even the week before your conference. What did you think I was doing this whole time you were at work? For four years, Pharma. Were you even listening?”

He huffs defensively, wings drawn up, haughty. “I was….busy,”

“Then that’s your loss.”

“You could’ve at least chosen Delphi as your transfer why Teran?” He says, almost offended at the prospect. That’s because he is. Why choose some old, decrepit hospital when you can work in the best of the best? He’ll have to pull some strings to get you to the top and close to him.

You throw him a look. “Because I want to?”

“You can’t simply decide things on a whim, dear. Impulse seems to be your greatest friend, somehow. Listen to me when I say there’s plenty of vile cybertronians there. Even worse, you’re a female, human, medic. At some point, they’ll take advantage of your squishy form and—“

“Pharma, it’s an organic friendly hospital.” You sigh. “It’s not like the discrimination in Delphi is any better. Look, if you’re here to bother me, the window is always open. I have an exam tomorrow and I’m not wasting time trying to one up you.”

That shuts him up and you turn back to your studies, crinkling your face at the paper. If you were a lot let haggard he’d chastise your indecency towards him. But instead, he saunters close to your desk, eyeing the schedule taped on your wall, the cluttered books on the table, pens, markers, spooling about.

He halts behind your chair, narrowing his eyes, craning over your shoulder, digits impatiently tapping the metal that is his arm. You try to ignore it and focus yourself with sorting out your study cards. Circuit modules, know that. Gestation tank, yup—

Tink, tink, tink. Your eyes twitch. Oh, this bastard. As you were about to chew him off, he jabs a digit at your table and you look. It’s your past paper.

“That is incorrect,’’ He mumbles, “That too. This one is Nodulic System Array. This one is the letter B. And that—“ He swipes it off your desk to get a better look. “—Is also incorrect.”

You tilt your head, furrowed your brows and thought for a while. “It’s not coolant? Don’t you guys have engines needed to be cooled down by coolant like cars do?”

“That’s true….sometimes….” He trails off. “Coolant is used in the situation where a major component is damage. In that case, cooling fans. That is the main component and an per your question, overheating leads to several repercussions—“

“Wait, wait wait—“ You lean over your desk and scribble some more notes on the pad.

Seriously? He’s lecturing and you’re not even listening?

“Write the notes later, dear. Listen first.” He tsks, impatient.

“No I can’t, I’ll forget them. Here, just sit down.” You motion to the chair without much of a look to him.

He feels his face plate burn for a moment. The nerve. This human had the nerve to regard him with such a careless notion and yet he doesn’t mind. He looks at you, wings twitching, then away, then back. It’s not like he has anything else to do. With a sigh he pulls up another chair by your side.

“Perhaps I could spare some time for my darling pet.”

BONUS

“What is this?”

“What is what?”

“This!” He held up a notepad, and you look away without much of an expression when you see the scribbles of a miniature pharma with an ‘x’ for both eyes, the rough strokes as blood.

“You were being an ass.”

#transformers x reader #pharma x reader #maccaddams #idw pharma #transformers idw

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