#And when the work's done you sit around the fire and complain to each other about how bad the work-ethic is of people in the big city

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae!! I would love to read more about the dynamic between poly!marauders and reader. Like maybe some domestic fluff just showing the interaction between the boys and with reader. I love the way you write true poly with the boys together too 🥹🤍

Hi lovely, thanks for requesting!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

“Shit!” Sirius hisses, another piece of popcorn splintering off his string. It’s nearly all cranberries at this point, and half the length of either yours or Remus’. “How are yours not breaking?”

“Patience,” Remus preaches, eyes on his needle as he slides it smoothly through yet another popcorn kernel. 

“Sounds made up,” James scoffs. The remains of his own popcorn are littered about his lap and his fingers are stained pink with cranberry juice. His problems lie in inaccuracy as much as impatience, constantly getting ahead of himself and pricking his fingers rather than his target. Fortunately, Rugby Captain James Potter is no stranger to pain, so he only extends the injured finger towards where you sit on the floor for you to kiss each time before resuming his work. 

“Completely agree.” Sirius is quick to hop on James’ half-constructed bandwagon. “They’re conspiring against us, keeping the real secrets of success to themselves.” 

“They’re focussing on their work,” you say, grinning when Sirius’ foot nudges your shoulder meanly, “which is how they keep from messing up.” 

“Cruel,” he murmurs, but you only hum, a wordless You know I’m right. And he does, because he goes quiet. 

James could never stand silence. “It’s almost cold enough for a fire,” he remarks after nearly five seconds of it. “Maybe we could have one tomorrow?” 

“You just want to chop firewood,” Remus accuses. 

“I don’t mind,” you say quietly, looking down at your hands, and Sirius nods emphatically. Another piece of popcorn shatters in his hands, bits of it hitting your shoulder.

“Yeah, don’t deter him.” 

“I don’t even get to chop it anymore since you started buying it at Tesco,” James complains, shooting Remus a resentful look. “Now I just want to watch fire. It’s the last caveman’s pleasure you’ve left me.” 

You glance over, and Remus is looking downward, trying and failing to quell his smile. “Fine,” he relents. “We can pick some up tomorrow and have a fire.”

“Yes!” James leans around Sirius, planting a smacking kiss on Remus’ cheek. “Thank you.” 

“S’no problem.” Remus has gone all soft and blushy. You and Sirius exchange a fond, knowing look. 

“Hey, do you think we could pick up some of those gingerbread house kits while we’re there?” you ask the room. “We didn’t get a chance to do those last year.” 

“Patience,” Remus reminds you, recovering. “It’s hardly the end of November, we’ve got a whole month for that.” 

Your mouth pulls dissatisfiedly. “Yeah, but last year we thought the same thing and then we ran out of time.” 

“You know what we should do?” James perks up. “Have a competition! Whoever makes the best gingerbread house in under an hour gets—”

“No,” you all say on top of each other. 

You shake your head. “It’ll take all the fun out of it, Jamie.”

“You can’t put a time limit on creativity,” Sirius agrees. “Hey, I got three in a row!” He beams, holding his garland up for Remus’ approval, and the other boy appraises it for a second, nodding sagely. 

“Well done.” 

“Sorry,” you tell James, who’s still pouting after the hasty shut-down of his idea. “We can race at something else if you want to, but that sort of stuff is supposed to be more…”

“Peaceful,” Remus supplies, and you nod relievedly. 

“Exactly.” 

“S’fine,” James sulks. He sticks his needle through a cranberry, a pitiful whine escaping him when it comes out the other side harsher than he’d expected. He extends his hand toward you palm up, and you take it, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his finger. “Mm, now here.” He leans down, tapping the corner of his mouth. You smile, pecking him sweetly on the lips. He tastes like the peppermint chapstick he uses this time of year, which you love and Sirius abhors (he thinks all mint tastes like toothpaste). “Alright,” James says, lips curving against yours, “now it’s actually fine.” 

“Scoundrel,” Sirius accuses. “My poor darling, do you feel used?” 

“Not terribly,” you admit, but it’s no deterrence to Sirius, who reaches down to haul you into his lap. Your garland trails after you, overlapping with his. You settle in contentedly. 

“Who’s the scoundrel now,” James objects. “You can’t just move her about like she’s got no will of her own.” 

You’re perfectly happy to be wherever they want you, but you aren’t going to say that. “Does anyone fancy a hot chocolate? I just got those peppermint marshmallows.” 

Sirius makes a face. “No thanks. James, make the girl a hot chocolate.” 

“Why me?” James objects. 

“I’ll have one too,” Remus says. 

“It’s her idea, why doesn’t she make them?”

“Because she,” Sirius says, weaving his arms under yours to resume stringing up his garland in front of you, “is occupied. Go on.” 

James grumbles, but sets down his work. 

“Sorry,” you say, making your eyes extra big. It’s half sincere apology, half completely unapologetic beguilement, and James cracks quickly, kissing your cheek to show he’s not really upset. Then he kisses Sirius too, just for fun. 

“I wanted a hot chocolate anyway,” he says, heading into the kitchen. 

You fall into an easy silence as he works, the kettle gurgling in the background while you relax against Sirius’ chest, nearly finished with your garland. You wonder if you should offer to do his for him, even though you know the other two will definitely make fun of you for letting him off the hook. You think you will anyway. 

“Oh!” Sirius straightens, causing you to shift against him uncomfortably. He ignores the slighted look you send him, bringing a hand to your shoulder to hold you more securely against him. You’re easily pacified. “If you want to have a competition, you and y/n should have a race for who can wrap the most presents.” He looks at you. “You’re always saying you love wrapping, yeah sweetheart?” 

The endearment only slightly softens the look you’re giving him. Must everyone try to ruin your holiday rituals with racing and competitions? You know he’s only brought it up out of selfishness, too; Sirius hates wrapping gifts, and this is just another way for him to push the labor off on James and you. 

James, unfortunately, lights brighter than the tree you’d set up earlier that day. “Yeah!” He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet. Remus eyes the boiling water he’s pouring out at the same time warily. “What do you say, lovie? Maybe a couple of days before Christmas we can divvy up the presents that aren’t for us, then we just see who finishes first!” 

“Didn’t you already lose that competition the other night?” Remus quips. Sirius erupts in laughter behind you, but James only shoots him a hostile look (or his version of a hostile look, more of a squint than anything) before his eyes flit back to you hopefully. 

You roll your eyes, but this is one competition you think you might actually win. “Fine,” you say, smiling when he pumps his fist. “But I don’t think you know what you’re getting into, Potter. My gift wrapping skills are legendary.” 

“Oh, my love,” James croons, grinning as he carries in two mugs of hot chocolate. “My sweet, naive girl.” He passes one to Remus and the other to you, dropping a kiss on your temple. “I won’t go easy on you this time.”

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #the marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #hp marauders

[syrupgirl]

Sorry if you have done this before but maybe you could do a neteyam x reader and he is introducing you to his family ?

Love ur work btw

a/n: I did change this a lil so I hope it’s still ok, so reader knows the Sully’s vaguely and has only been known as a friend to Neteyam but now he is introducing reader as his potential mate. Also thank you for your compliments :p <3

(sum more notes at the end <3)

reader uses she/her prns and her body stays un-described

Mate material -Neteyam

“Is this really necessary, Neteyam,” You whined, sulking behind him. “They already know who I am, I feel like I’m meeting them again.”

He smiled and continued to wade his way toward the shore.

“Well, you are in a way. They will be seeing you in a different light now.” This man. He has some cheek.

Water whipped around your ankles as you ran after him. Taking Neteyam’s hand in yours, you spun him around and tugged on his arm repeatedly.

“Do we have to tell them? Why can’t they…Just figure it out on their own?.” You felt like child now, complaining over something so simple, but that’s how being with Neteyam made you feel; all fuzzy and floaty on the inside. Things were simple and easy when you were with him.

He finally stopped waking and took his arm out of your hand, replacing it with his hand.

“I understand if you are nervous, they can be,” he paused as if to take a moment to find the words. “intimidating when they want to be.” It came out as a laugh.

You snorted, “Your mother in particular.”

“She loves you!”

“She likes me as your friend, she might not as a mate!”

Neteyam sighed and pulled you closer; he could tell this was really bothering you.

“It’s not like there has been some, huge, drastic change. We’re still us, just…A more together version of us.”

A reluctant smile bloomed on your lips. “You sound stupid.”

“Ah.” You giggled as he pushed you away in mock offence.

“I take back what I said, you should be terrified.”

“Neteyam!”

-

Eclipse had come and the Sully family were gathered in their Marui, happily feasting on their dinner.

All that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and chewing of food, until Lo’ak took it upon himself to break that silence.

“So, big bro, what happened with yn today?”

Suddenly, all eyes were on the eldest Sully. A small smirk jumped onto Kiri’s lips and she quickly went to cover it with her hand and Tuk looked genuinely worried for your health. Lo’ak had a shit eating grin on his face; he knew what he was doing.

Neteyam gulped, disguising it was swallowing a mouthful of his dinner. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I saw you two getting awfully close in the water.” Neytiri looked as if she had finally checked into the conversation, putting down her meal and looking to her sons.

“I just thought maybe, she might have been hurt?”

Like a hunter watches their prey, his family set their gaze on him, silently hungering for more information.

In an effort to appear cool headed, Neteyam shrugged. “She was fine, not hurt.” He looked to his brother and shot him a look, “Why do you ask?”

“Oh no, just curious.” It looked like Lo’ak would leave it now and Neteyam internally sighed in relief.

“How is yn, Neteyam? Haven’t seen her in a while.” Jake asked. Oh well, the questioning wasn’t over.

-

“I think they are onto us.”

You let those words sit in the air they were spoken into.

Neteyam’s arm tightened around you and you turned more into his chest. The pool of water around you wrinkled gently with your movements.

The two of you had stashed yourselves away in a lone terrace, not unlike the ones that bordered the lagoon outside the village, but this one was a secret place for you both. Where you could be with each other without worrying about prying eyes or annoying brothers.

Finally, you answered him, “What makes you say that?”

Neteyam sat up more, causing you to be partially shoved off of him.

“Lo’ak started asking me these annoying questions while we were eating dinner last night!” He looked like he was a getting really upset; brows furrowed, arms waving wildly, voice raising.

You frowned and caught one of his flailing hands. “What kind of questions?”

“Just stupid ones! Like, why we are spending so much time together and why we were getting so close to each other yesterday in the wate-”

“Be calm, Neteyam. Slow down.” You brought his hand to your chest. “Breath, deep breaths.”

Neteyam stopped his ranting and sighed out a long breath. As best as he could, he copied your breathing.

“Now, explain to me why this bothers you so much?”

He is still for a moment, looking a little embarrassed. “He’s putting his nose where it doesn’t belong, it is just not his business.”

You snort at that, “Are we not about to announce our relationship to your family? Honestly, it’s not a surprise that one of them found out before.”

Neteyam sighed again. He turned to face you and gently took your face into his hands, looking between your eyes.

“I want it to be on our terms, not because of Lo’ak’s prying.”

“I understand that,” you hummed. Your hand covered one of Neteyam’s on your face and you leaned into it. “Sounds like we need to act on our plans a little faster.”

A kiss was planted on your forehead and you smiled giddily.

“I don’t want to push you, I know you are a bit nervous.” He mumbled into your hairline.

Your free hand found his face and brought him back to where you could look him in the eyes. Your thumb glided back and forth along his cheekbone and his eyes drifted closed.

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

-

It really felt like you could not handle it.

The sun was high in the sky, beating down onto your skin. On a day like this, you would usually be bobbing up and down in the waves, happily soaking up the rays, but on this occasion all it was doing to you was elevating your already rapidly growing panic.

You and Neteyam sat on the woven walkways not to far from his marui. Today was the day where you would finally announce your relationship to his family. A monumental occasion really; the eldest son of Toruk Makto and former leader of the Omatikaya, had found himself a partner, a mate, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

You had met the Sully family many times before, you regularly spent time with Lo’ak and Kiri, even spending time with little Tuk. But now, you were seeing them on such different circumstances, they might as well have been strangers.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Neteyam had offered, an effort to quell your growing nerves, unfortunately this just spurred into motion all the thoughts of things that could happen; ranging from awkward silences to Jake and Neytiri chasing you out of their marui for trying to take their firstborn away from them. Extremely unlikely and just downright stupid, but you were just grasping at straws for anything that could go wrong.

“Why can’t- why can’t you just tell them while I am far, far away?” Neteyam laughed heartily at that but you were deadly serious.

“Oh yes, I can see it now,” Neteyam gasped between giggles, “hey mom, hey dad, you know yn? yeah I want her to be my mate. Where is she? Anywhere you aren’t.” His laughed picked up at his own joke and you groaned, hitting his chest with your balled fist.

“I love your family, Neteyam. I really, really want this to go well!”

“And it will! We’ve had this same conversation over and over, i don’t know how else I can reassure you.” He reached his arm around your waist and dragged you closer to him. “Would you like me to tell you in english? I know a little.”

Neteyam said something you didn’t understand. The language sounded so silly you couldn’t help but cover your mouth to hide your giggles.

“Should we get going? They should all be home now.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

-

“Neteya- oh, and yn?” Jake paused. “How are you, yn?”

The entire Sully clan, excluding Neteyam, were all seated around the cooking fire inside the marui. Jake and Neytiri parked up close to each other: Jake prepping fish for cooking and Neytiri wrapped then placed it above the fire in front of them.

Kiri and Tuk sat next to their mother. The older girl attempted to teach the youngest how to repair a torn Ilu saddle.

Lo’ak lay next to his father, apparently completely uninterested in whatever was happening around him, until the two of you entered together, after which he sat up looking infinitely intrigued.

Tucking your arms behind your back, you squeezed your hands together and mustered up a smile.

“I am well, thank you, Toruk Makto.”

Jake continued to de-bone the creature he was holding before speaking to you again, “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

You glanced to Neteyam, the nervousness you had buried starting to resurface again. He took a deep breath and reached behind you, taking your hand tightly in his.

Neytiri, who hadn’t looked entirely phased by your presence, suddenly perked up. Her eyes fell onto your intertwined fingers and then back to your face. It felt as if your heart was beating a mile a minute.

“Actually, sir, there’s…something I want to tell you.” Neteyam’s voice had an uncharacteristic nervousness to it and you could feel the smallest shake in the hand that held yours.

The whole family froze, each with sightly different looks on their faces. Lo’ak looked like he was on the verge of hysterical laughter, Kiri had her own little smile while Tuk was ready to hang off of your every word.

“What is it, Neteyam?” Neytiri asked. She stood and Jake followed suit.

The grip on your hand tightened before Neteyam spoke, “Yn and I, we wish to be mated. Before Eywa.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, the family before you reacted. Lo’ak, who had been quietly munching on his dinner, suddenly started to choke and thumped his fist against his chest in attempts to dislodge the obstruction.

Tuk and Kiri had the same reaction, shouting “What?!” at the same time. Tuk visibly more excited about the news, while Kiri looked like this was the stupidest thing she had ever heard.

“My son, you are not yet a man.” Neytiri urged, slowly pacing towards her eldest.

“I have passed two of the three rites of passage of our clan! And now that we live amongst the reef people, I can complete the three by passing one of theirs!” The two of you had anticipated these concerns and had done your research on the matter. Since the Sully’s no longer lived among their own, the three tasks Neteyam had to complete to be welcomed into the Omaticaya as a man were no longer possible. It seemed only fitting that he finish of these tasks by overcoming the Metkayina’s last rite of passage that their men had to accomplish.

“Taking a mate is a serious thing, son.” Jake was now face to face with Neteyam. He had a stony look on his face. “I know you’re friends with yn, evidently a bit more than that, but this will be the person you spend the rest of your life with.”

Coming up beside her son, Neytiri put a hand on his shoulder. “Your father is right, Neteyam. These decisions cannot be rushed.”

By Eywa, you wished the ground would just swallow you whole.

Neteyam noticed your embarrassment and doubled down. “I know that, we know that! We have been talking about this for a long time and we’ve thought of everything.”

His father narrowed his eyes, he still didn’t look convinced, so you decided oh well, you already ready feel like you were in over your head, what’s a little more?

“If I may,” All eyes turned to you, “your son is the most caring, most passionate, and most mature man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He is infinitely understanding and loves with all he has. I cannot speak on his behalf, but I trust in the decision I have made to have Neteyam as my mate.” Your words continued to get smaller and smaller as your felt their stares bore into you.

Silence filled the space, broken up by the soft sound of crashing waves and the chittering of stray Ilu.

Neytiri spoke first.

“This is truly what you want, my son?” The mother laced her hands with the sons free one.

“More than anything I have ever wanted in my entire life.”

A look was shared between Jake and Neytiri and their children stared on.

“Neteyam,” Jake sighed, “I give you my blessing to pursue your remaining rites of passage by the Metkayina.” His hand reached up and latched onto the back of Neteyam’s head, bringing it closer to his own.

“My son, I see you.”

Your partner’s lip quivers and his brows told upward, it is clear he is using everything in him not to cry.

“And you, yn.” Jake turned to you, bringing his hand up to his brow and then back down again. “I see you.”

You repeated his gesture and sniffed, emotions running very high. “I see you, Toruk Makto.”

Jake smiled. “No need for the formalities, not now that we’re family.”

The rest of that night was filled with light and laughter. With songs and delicious food. You couldn’t think of a better way to be welcomed into this beautiful family.

Your heart had never felt so full.

a/n: so we only know 2 of the Omaticaya’s rites of passage and judging from how Neteyam has a banshee, it’s safe to assume he had begun the process of becoming a man in the clan. I don’t know if he had done his dream hunt so i just said he had🤷‍♀️yeah this took so long because I did a chunk of words every few days💀 anyways until next time, bye :p

#not beta read #not beta'd #avatar fanfiction #avatar #neteyam x reader #neteyam #avatar imagine #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam imagine #avatar way of water #avatar x reader #lo’ak #jake sully #neytiri #tuktirey #kiri #avatar 2 #my mighty warrior <3 #neteyam sully #avatar the way of water

[dantesunbreaker]

Cold Cuddles with the Papas(Headcanons)

No warnings apply, just some tooth rotting fluff from our favorite old men!

Primo 

As the eldest brother, it is safe to assume his circulation isn’t as great as it once was. Thus, blankets and warm fuzzy socks are always in abundance with Primo

When you approach him complaining about the cold, Primo is pulling out a pair of double layer socks before you have even finished getting the words out

If he still has work that needs his attendance, Primo will usher you both to the loveseat in his office. An end table will be pulled up to use as a desk, blanket wrapped around you both so you can nestle against him for warmth

But when there is no work to be done, Primo will brew a nice hot pot of tea for you both to share

Together you retire to his chambers where the heat is always turned up to the perfect comfortable temperature

Always takes up the chance to put you in one of his older sweaters because Primo loves the sight of your sleepy face while bundled up in his clothing

If even all of that does little to fight off the could, Primo will sit and cuddle with you beneath a layer of thick blankets until you are warm enough

Your favorite is the occasions where this turns your evening into soft warm cuddles the rest of the day and sharing some delicious soup made with vegetables from Primo’s garden

Secondo

Seems very much like a tough love kind of guy. First response when you come to him complaining about the cold is “well damn, I can’t control the weather”

But a quick flash of the puppy dogs is all it takes to change Secondo’s tune

If you are outside together and you begin to shiver, Secondo will groan, but always will offer up his coat. Pretends he walks with his arm around you to further keep you warm, but you know it because he also feels the cold

When inside and you mention being cold, Secondo simply offers to turn up the heater. 

He often takes things for face value, so either prepare to work for it if you want cuddles from him or simply be blunt about it. No matter the method, you end up getting what you want. 

Sometimes, when you can’t manage to pull him away from his work, you will rest on his lap with a blanket pulled snug around your shoulders as he continues going through paperwork

Other times Secondo will take the time to sit down and relax with you lounging under a throw blanket together in his office

Offers to make you something hot to drink, whether it be coffee, tea, or even hot chocolate. 

Don’t tell his brothers, but he loves when you pick hot chocolate because he uses it as an excuse to also indulge in the delicious chocolatey drink

Terzo

Most likely to be over dramatic about the situation, and also most likely to be equally as affected by the temperature

Do not expect Terzo to offer his coat! “But the outfit was planned around the coat! Taking it off will ruin the look!” He will however walk with an arm around  you, pulled tight against his side so that you can share his body heat

Getting Terzo to accomplish any work when it is cold is a difficult task, but you don’t want him getting in MORE trouble with Sister Imperator

So cold mornings you find yourself accompanying Terzo throughout his day, hot drinks always in hand, warm coats and blankets at the ready constantly

You will stand behind his chair, arms around him with blanket hanging over so that you can wrap him up in your loving warmth as you coax him to get through at least half the stack of papers on his desk

But when Terzo does not have work, expect an extravagant yet cozy night ahead of you

Expertly gets the fireplace going, all the lights off so only the firelit illuminates the room. Absolutely has a huge furry rug in front of the fireplace, which is where you spend the evening cuddling with dozens of pillows and extra blankets

Special occasions you can also expect to share some mulled wine as you bask in the warmth of the fire together, tangled up in each other’s limbs

Copia

Always one to worry, Copia will instantly be fretting over you if you mention being cold around him

Before you can even say anything else, Copia is pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to check for a fever followed by rapid fire questions asking if you are feeling ill

Takes a couple of minutes to settle him down enough to explain that you aren’t sick, you are just a bit chilly and in need of some Copia cuddles

Worry is quickly replaced with affection, throwing his arms around you and holding you tight against his chest. “Oh! Why didn’t you just say so!”

Often one to work too hard, Copia however will set aside his work in these kind of occasions

The couch in his office always has a rather thick throw blanket on it, strategically left by you entirely for the purpose for when you have days like this

Copia will get you both nice steaming cups of hot chocolate, mini marshmallows included!

Both of you curl up together on the couch, blanket thrown over your laps as you carefully sip on your drinks and talk about whatever comes to mind

On some occasions you fall asleep against him, and Copia absolutely refuses to wake you from such a pleasant slumber. So, he instead he simply does his best to complete whatever work he can from the couch until you eventually wake up on your own

#papa emeritus i #papa emeritus iii #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus ii #primo #secondo #terzo #copia #cardinal copia #papa emeritus i x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus x reader #primo x reader #secondo x reader #terzo x reader #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #popia x reader #popia #headcanons #my writing #papa emeritus fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #the band ghost #ghost the band #terzo is a diva and I stand by this statement

[alliddewrites]

Pervy!TF-141 x Reader Headcanons

Content disclaimer:

Smut,

Inappropriate/creepy/disgusting behavior,

Voyeurism,

Recording without permission,

Abuse of ranks,

Underwear stealing,

Very ambiguous consent,

Female reader

Masterlist

Reader discretion advised. You're responsible for your own media consumption.

Gaz

Kyle has several cameras set up around your room. The feed gets recorded and stored in case he can't see something live. Never wants to miss a single second when he can see your perfect body.

Loves watching you pleasure yourself, unaware that you're being watched by him. He gets so hard watching you touching your wet pussy. He always times his orgasm with yours, imagining himself pouring his hot cum into your tight cunt.

Takes pictures and videos of you every chance he gets. He has a collection of you doing just about everything. - You innocently asleep in your bed. - You in the showers, water droplets running down your pretty body, looking oh so enticing. - You working out, tits perfectly squeezed together by your sports bra, sweat running down between your breasts. - You running on the tracks, tight ass bouncing so beautifully.

He has all of these files organized in folders so he can pick what to get off to depending on his mood.

After the others find out about this whole ordeal, he will reluctantly share the files with them, just so they don't tell you. Now all of them get to jerk off to your unaware self.

When he's with you, he gives you fleeting touches in inappropriate places. He either plays it off as an accident, or he just simply plays innocent.

Loves touching your ass the most, he just wants to grab it and massage it in his hands. "Oh! Sorry! I really didn't mean to do that."

Price

John takes full advantage of his rank, ordering you around to do things for him, sometimes inappropriate things.

Makes your train with him. After all, what is everyone else going to do? He's the captain, what he says, goes, no matter how much the others on the team complain. Since he has more strength than you, he has the advantage every single time. Pins you down in ways where his pelvis is touching you in some way. You can feel his hard cock through his pants, pressed up against you each session, grinding into you slightly. He might even pin you down in a way where his dick is brushing against your face.

Has a really hard time restraining himself from absolutely destroying you on the training mats. You're just so close to him, so submissive and helpless, completely at his mercy. His cock gets hard just thinking about it, precum dripping from the tip of his throbbing shaft.

Gives you orders every moment you're with him. Clean this, go fetch that, sit on his lap, keep him company, etc.

If you happen to mess something up, you're going to receive a punishment. As much as he wants to punish you by absolutely ravaging your body, he'll settle on spanking you until your butt is red. "Now bend over, and count."

Ghost

The silent one out of the group is the one that's the least obvious about his pervertedness.

Simon is the one that steals your, usually used, panties for personal use. Loves smelling your scent while he jerks his painfully hard, throbbing cock to the thoughts of you. When he's nearing his climax, he wraps your dirty panties around his cock. When he finally reaches his climax, he does it directly into the fabric, soaking it in his semen.

When he's done using one of your panties he puts it back into your laundry hamper, between all the other used clothes, in hopes that you'll notice it's covered in his virile seed.

He acts totally normal around you. You wouldn't even know his true feelings if he didn't have his rare slip ups that happen when you tease him. -Showing off a lot of skin, like tits or ass, bending over, acting all innocent and submissive, will get him extremely turned on, rock hard and tip drooling precum, but you will also be playing with fire.-

If you do some of those things, intentional or not, it will push him over the edge. He will pin you to a wall and threaten you, barely keeping control of his desires. "If you're going to act like a slut, we're going to treat you like one."

Soap

The most direct and most obvious out of all of them. Johnny is not ashamed about being a total pervert towards you.

Very touchy feely with you. There is not a moment when his hands are not on you. He might start out at your waist all innocent, but they will either wander up to your tits, or downwards towards your crotch. He gets so hard in these moments that he has to excuse himself so he can go and jerk off, so he can release a nice thick load and all that tension while thinking about you.

Will come up behind you and press himself against you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making sure you can feel his throbbing cock against your ass.

He's drooling over you 24/7, eyes never leaving your beautiful figure. When you catch him staring, which you will, he'll just wink at you, not embarrassed at all. He'll be even hornier and happier if you notice his bulge, barely contained by his pants.

He's not afraid of making comments about you and your body. Inappropriate comments, dirty jokes, explicit observations, the things he'd do to you, etc. "I have a bit of a problem. Won't you help me out, lass?"

I do not, to any extent, support this kind behavior in real life. This is pure fiction.

#my writing #reader insert #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #call of duty x reader #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #cod #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #price x reader #john price x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick #john soap mactavish #john price #johnny mactavish #tf 141 #141 x reader #simon riley x reader

[traveler-at-heart]

Flirt

Based on this post

WandaNat x Fem!SuperSoldier R

Nothing too serious, just silly stuff

Can you hear me calling Out your name? You know that I'm falling And I don't know what to say

Wanda hums along as she chops vegetables, glancing over at the casserole to check the water. As she moves over to get a pan, she feels a presence behind her.

“Hi there” you say and she blushes. Coming back from a training sesion, you’re desperate for some water so you reach behind her, trapping Wanda between your body and the countertop. “I’m sorry, I’m all sweaty and invading your space”

“It’s ok” she says, turning back to look at you. Her heart flutters with your half smile, as you finally take a glass and fill it with water. She misses your warmth instantly.

“Smells incredible” you comment, looking to the stove.

“Here” she offers you a taste and you let her feed you. Wanda’s eyes never leave your mouth, especially when you moan at the taste. “I made extra, in case you want some”

“Absolutely. Let me shower first and I’ll do the dishes, yes?”

“Ok” she nods, her hand dropping. Wanda’s too distracted to notice it is dangerously close to the fire, so she lets out a small whine as she jumps away from the heat.

“Come here” you inspect the small burn, and put her hand under the sink so the water helps with the pain. “Better?”

“I can also use magic”

“Well, maybe I wanted to hold your hand” you tease, and bring it to your lips. “There. I won’t be long”

“Yeah, ok”

Wanda smiles as you leave the room. She’s definitely asking you out soon.

—

“I’m almost done” Natasha mutters, inspecting the mess of wires.

“I’m not complaining” you say. She’s sitting on your shoulders, propped up to get a better look at the security system that was glitching.

Your hands are on her thighs. She’s pretty sure you don’t realize it, but from time to time you run them up and down her legs or squeeze when she seems frustrated with Tony’s stupid system.

Truth be told, she may have done it quicker if she had a ladder. You could be… distracting.

“You’re so tight” you say out of nowhere and she almost falls from your shoulders.

“Pardon?”

“I meant tense” you look up to meet her eyes.

“Don’t give me those puppy eyes” she complains, upset that you were able to get a reaction out of her. You always can.

“Can a super soldier give puppy eyes? I thought we were big and scary”

“You definitely can”

“What else have you noticed about me?”

Natasha continues to work quietly, and you figure she’s either angry or simply not in the mood to entertain you. Silence lingers for a few more minutes until she speaks again.

“You always smell like cinnamon”

“Do I?”

“Yes, even after the most physically demanding mission. The boys stink, even Barnes and Rogers”

“Thanks, I guess”

“If you tell anyone I said this I will deny it and kick your ass. And I’m all done here so you can put me down”

“Alright” you change your positions as if she weights nothing, but manage to carry her bridal style. Natasha glares, but your laugh is enough to hold her back.

“Since you worked so hard to fix this, why don’t I make you lunch and give you a nice massage, princess?”

She blushes at the pet name.

“Lead the way”

—

It’s movie night at the Compound. For the first time in months, the entire team is together, no urgent missions or new recruits to train.

Wanda keeps looking to the door, hoping you’ll join her on the couch.

Natasha is trying to be casual about it, but she is also waiting for you.

But minutes go by without any sign of you. Wanda has no choice but to make room for Vision and Natasha hoards a whole bowl of popcorn, feeling defeated.

“Are we missing anyone?” Steve looks around the room.

“Y/N” Wanda says too fast for Natasha’s liking.

“I believe she is out with a woman” Vision replies.

“What?”

“Who?”

Wanda and Natasha speak at the same time. They look at Vision and then at each other. Wanda tilts her head and Natasha glares, daring her to do something.

“She said it was a special occassion. But I’m afraid I don’t know anything else. I sense you are both upset about it”

“I don’t care” Natasha turns to the screen, sinking in her seat.

Wanda lifts a finger and the movie starts, making it clear that she won’t answer any questions.

“What’s happening here?” Steve says and Bucky slaps his back.

“You really don’t wanna know”

—

You go back to the Compound a day later.

“Welcome back, Casanova” Sam says with a wicked grin.

“Huh?”

“Y/L/N” Steve shows up a second later. “There’s a mission. Wanda and Natasha are joining you for an extraction”

“I’ll go get changed”

“Try not to piss them off any more” he warns, but seems too flustured to explain himself.

His words echo in your head while you get changed and step into the Quinjet. The last time you spoke with Wanda was during dinner; you left after your lunch with Natasha.

Why would they be upset?

“Hi, there” you greet both of them, but are met with silence. “Uh… you want me to fly the Quinjet?”

“No” is all Natasha says.

“Did I do something…?” you begin to ask, looking between both women. With a sudden shake, the Quinjet takes off and you fall to the back, hitting your head against the wall.

Wanda doesn’t ask if you’re ok. You figure it’s better to stay quiet for the rest of the ride.

“So what’s the plan?” you ask as Natasha lands, but both women ignore you and walk in different directions.

Damn it, what the fuck is going on? And who are you supposed to follow?

“Move” Natasha barks and you go after her.

“Six guards ahead” she warns you a second too late. You knock them down while Natasha stares, but still shoots a couple of widow bites and two of them land on your back.

“What the fuck, Nat?” you complain.

“My aim is really bad today”

“Bullshit, your aim is better when you’re pissed off”

“Why would I be pissed off?” she challenges you as more guards arrive.

“I have no idea”

“You think you can flirt with me and then go away with another woman?” she kicks a couple of guys, mainly on the balls. They don’t stand a chance against her sudden anger.

“What?! You mean yesterday when I left for my mother’s birthday party?”

“Huh?” the redhead turns to you, and misses the man that is sprinting straight towards her. You push her aside and crash against him, going through a glass wall.

“Asshole” you complain, making sure he’s unconscious. As you begin to stand up, you notice a shrad of glass sticking out of your abdomen. “Fucking great”

“Wait, don’t take it out” Natasha kneels next to you, but you pull it, groaning in pain.

“It will heal in a minute” you ease her. “Now, the other thing. Yes, I was flirting, but I didn’t think you’d like me back. Or Wanda for that matter. You’re both way out of my league”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, really” you check to see the bleeding stopped and then stand up. “Let’s get the intel”

“Wanda, where are you?” Natasha calls through comms.

“Engaged in battle” the Sokovian says. “Would be nice to have some back up”

“I’ll go” you offer and Natasha nods, heading to the computer room.

“Hey, Wands, I’m he…” you greet and as soon as she sees you, red envelopes you. Wanda uses you as a wrecking ball to knock down five guys. “Ok, that was not nice”

She tilts her head and you feel your blood run cold as her eyes go red. You’re launched across the room to knock down more agents.

“Do you plan to use me like a boomerang every time there’s another enemy on sight?”

“Maybe” she says, shrugging her shoulders.

“I got the intel, let’s go” Natasha shows up, helping you up.

“Oh, I see, she managed to convince you she’s not bad”

“It’s all a missunderstanding” Natasha defends you.

“Oh, yeah, I bet it is” Wanda steps forward and you have to stand between them before they start fighting each other.

“Can we finish this back at the Compound, please?”

But they won’t stop arguing and you’re seriously considering just carrying both of them back to the jet.

You’re ready to do just that when a man throws grenades at you.

“Get down” you warn, pushing them away. You’re thrown back with the blast, feeling how your left arm, leg and a couple of ribs shatter.

That’s gonna take a little longer to heal.

“Y/N” Wanda floats to you, while Natasha covers her back and shoots at the guards. Each woman helps you up, and you jump on one leg to the jet.

“I’m ok” you reassure them as they set you down. “The bones are healing. It’s just a bit… uncomfortable”

“I’m sorry… for the way I acted” Wanda looks between both of you. Natasha sets the jet on autopilot and walks to you, arching her eyebrows.

“I can’t really blame Wanda, Y/N. You were being a tease after all” she says with a playful smirk. “What I’d like to know is how you’ll make it up to us now”

“Well" you smile in spite of the pain. "I can think of a few ways”

—

Steve knocks on your door.

“Rogers” you open, barely showing your face.

“You ok? I heard you had a rough time during the mission”

“It’s fine. You know how it is. We’re fast healers”

“That’s not exactly what I meant. It seems like you upset Wanda and Natasha. Whatever it is you did, I hope you find a way to fix it”

“She did” Natasha opens the door wider, wearing one of your shirts. “Thank you for your concern, Steve”

“Get back to bed” Wanda calls and Steve blushes.

“Is there anything else?” Natasha says and he looks to the ceiling.

“Nope”

“Good. If you’ll excuse us” she shuts the door in his face and pushes you against the bedroom wall.

“Have I told you I’m really sorry?” you say, mildly scared and very turned on. Natasha pushes you to the floor until you’re on your knees. Wanda follows your every move with eager eyes.

“Yes. But one more time couldn’t hurt”

#wanda maximoff x reader #Natasha Romanoff x Reader #WandaNat x Reader

[rafesgoldrings]

would love to see what exactly occurred when rafe slapped our ass black and blue for bitching too much 🤭 and whether he got any of the other kooks involved or he took this on as his responsibility…

(edit: adding a little more to this because I thought of more🫶🏻)

You were pissed, fully prepared to brat to your hearts content when Rafe, Topper, and Kelce came over. They hadn’t paid you nearly enough attention lately, hadn’t bought you any new gifts, too fucking busy golfing and partying to pay attention to you. You’d complained to each of them individually, and then to all of them at once in the group chat. Telling them that you were bored, that they weren’t answering fast enough, that they needed to answer you now or buy you something to make up for it. It’s all they heard for the last few days and they were getting fed up, part of it was their fault, they spoiled you too much, but you were bitching just a little too much for their liking. All of you were supposed to hang out at your place that weekend, ready to make it up to you then. So when they walked into your living room, they expected their usual greeting, a kiss to their lips and a hello, but when they walked in? You’d walked over and slapped Rafe in the face, hard, and walked back to your couch. Sitting with a loud huff, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Rafe touched his face, tracing the hot splotch your hand left, jaw clenched and tongue sucking his teeth. You knew you fucked up, you knew it was soon as your hand made contact, but it was already done. He’d stormed over to you, hand harshly gripping your upper arm and bending you over the arm of the couch. He ripped off the tiny skirt you had on, smirking when he saw you had no panties on and telling the boys to watch him , and slapped your ass. “Ow, that fucking hurts you dick. First you abandon me, no gifts or anything, and now you’re hurting me.” you whined, a harsher slap landed on your ass followed by a firm ‘shut the fuck up’. Then you’d heard that sound, the sound you both dreaded and desired, his belt buckle being undone. It wasn’t but a few seconds later the rather made contact with your right ass cheek, a loud crack filling the room and echoing off the walls as the welt began to show. He moved on to the left one, the same cracking noise filling the room as you tried to squirm away. He’d brought your hands behind your back and held them there, moving his legs to tangle with yours and hold you in place as he kept up with his relentless attack. You could feel your cunt dripping, the sticky arousal coating your inner thighs, leaking more and more with each whip of the belt. The boys watched in pure satisfaction, knowing if you couldn’t handle it you’d let them know, eyes moving to the glistening on your thighs and dripping hole. Your ass was on fire, sore and hot to the touch, but Rafe kept going. Tears cascaded down your face like a crystal river, small drops falling onto the couch. “3 more. Count them and fucking thank me you fucking brat”

He’d brought the belt down again “O-one. Thank y-you Rafe”

Again “Tw-o. T-thank you Rafe”

Again, but this time you forgot to answer, head too empty to remember.

“I said,” the hand not holding the belt letting go of your hands and moving to wrap around your throat to squeeze it, loving the way you gasped for air “Fucking count. You’re not that much of a dumb slut to do that right? You’re so smart yeah, our smart girl? So try that again” he’d coo, releasing your throat as you coughed and caught your breath.

One final crack of the harsh leather against your ass “Thr-ee. Thank you R-Rafe”

“Good girl baby, all done now okay? Did so so good for me sweet girl” his voice soft and gentle, his hands caressing the bruised and broken skin. He’d cleaned you up, having the others grab some ointment to rub on the broken areas of skin, before the three of them admired Rafe’s handy work, splotches of red, purple, black, and blue covering your ass. He let go of your body, moving to sit on the couch, before pulling you into his lap and smirking at the hiss you let out. Ass sore and sensitive.

“Let this serve as a reminder not to ever fucking do that shit again. Not to me, not to Kelce, not to Topper. If something is bothering you, you talk to us and tell us how to fix it like the big girl you are princess” you’d nodded your head, curling into Rafe’s chest as the other two began rolling a joint.

Safe to say, you never dared brat that way again. Especially not towards Rafe, it took several weeks for the bruises to go away and for you to be able to sit properly.

Tag List: @sweetestdesire @congratsloserr @xyzstar @madelynie

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #asks <3 #rafe cameron x kook!reader #topper thornton smut #kelce outer banks

[loveswrites]

omg poly cullens taking care of a sick reader- i just wanna be doted on frfr

Poly Cullen x Sick reader

I loved writing this it took me 3 hours with people bothering me. I hold you like it. Lemme know what else you would like to see!

Currently you were at the Cullens house for a sleepover. At least that’s what charlie thought, and that’s also what you thought it was as well. You thought you’d have an exciting chill weekend with your secret lovers. That was until you had woken up with a tingle in the back of your throat, your eyes watering, both of your nostrils clogged, and you just simply felt like you were dying. 

“Stop being dramatic.” Roseilane said, rolling her eyes.

“You don’t know how it is Rose, you’ve been dead for like a thousand years.” You said snapping but sneezing mid sentence. She frowned in response. 

“ I may be dead but at least I’m not spreading my germs everywhere.”

“I blame Emmett.” 

“ Wait, what why me?!” He said standing up from the desk he was sitting on.

“ Because you were the one who insisted that we go spend ‘Alone time’ together and go skinny dipping even though you know damn well I can’t swim! That water was cold as hell.” You answered, lifting your tongue as Carlise put a thermometer under your tongue.

When you had woken up immediately complaining you were in Edward's room sleeping with him, because the two of you hadn’t had any alone time together in a while and you could tell it was bothering him. Though he wouldn’t admit it he was grateful that you had chosen to sleep with him without him asking.

I’m not saying it was easy to do so, It was practically like prying a child's favorite toy away with Rose and Emmett. They did not give up without a fight.

“What do you mean you don’t wanna sleep with us?” Rose questioned. 

“ I just wanna sleep with Edward tonight, You’ve done nothing wrong Rose.” You replied in attempts to comfort the defensive vampire.

“But we wanted to watch the game with you, You said you would.” Emmet argued back.

“I know I know but I’m tired, I just wanna take a bath and lay down. Me and Edward haven’t had any time alone together so I thought that me and him could cuddle while I fall asleep. I promise you two did nothing wrong.” You said kissing Rosalie cheek then doing the same to emmett. The frown on their beautiful faces pained you but they weren’t the only one’s in this relationship. 

In Fact you had to think about the last time you spent alone time with Carlise and Esme. They always say that “Your presence in the house alone is enough time for us.” But you know that’s just them being the adults of everything and that is not the case. You knew that just like the rest of the Cullens they went through their own version of possessiveness, it was only right with the soul bond between you all. It’s just they had a better way of hiding it than the others.

Rosalie and Emmett would pout and huff like children. 

 Edward would hide himself in the woods or stuff himself in his room. Saying that he just needed ‘alone time’. When we all knew he needed the exact opposite.

Jasper would be more distant than normal, lost in his thoughts.

Esme would clean. Like there would never be a spot of dirt around this house when she was feeling alone.

And Carlisle would just bury himself with work. Always taking up extra hours making sure he is busy enough to not think too much about it.

All of your partners were just begging for attention but none of them would voice it out loud. 

So right before you went to sleep you stated to yourself in your head that you would make time for each Cullen the next day even if they each only got a hour alone with you, Something was better than nothing.

That was until you woke up feeling like shit.

Carlisle shook his head, taking the thermometer from under your tongue. “You have a fever.”

“I could tell that from down the hall she’s sweating like she’s a witch and we just set her on fire” Edward said with his emo attitude upset that his time with me got cut short because of Emmett’s shenanigans 

“Edward please.” Carlisle said tucking your hair behind your ear while pulling you closer to him to kiss your forehead. This made you smile. You had middle his forehead kisses. You felt like he always gave the best ones. You wouldn’t dare say that out loud ever though. You know Rose would kill you out of jealousy.

“I’m going to get you medicine okay? You’ll be okay.” Carlisle said, pulling away from you when Jasper walked into the room. You nod in response.

“Esme and Alice are making you some soup.” Jasper said with a sly smirk on his face know your next words.

“Soup? Ew You know I can’t stand soup! That shit is nasty. I'm not eating it.” You said, shaking your head and frowning in distaste. You heard soft laughs in response.

“It will make you feel better, I promise.” Jasper said in his southern accent that just honestly was a panty dropper you would always tell him.

“That doesn't help me at all, I’d rather eat sand.” You said rubbing your eyes as you felt a pounding headache come on.

As if sensing your discomfort, Carlisle was right by your side again with supplies in his hand. Rubbing your back with one hand he put his things down on the table you were sitting on.

“You need to rest, Whose room would you like to sleep in? I’ve already contacted Charlie and told him you fell with a cold so you shouldn’t worry about him. He’s fine.” he stated but you were now faced with the most difficult decision of the day.

Looking around the room Jasper was standing by the doorway watching you with calculating eyes still with the sly smirk of his which always made your heart pound. Him hearing it he chuckled, his actions made you look away in embarrassment.

Looking towards Emmett and Rose. Emmett was sitting on the table near the window and Roselie was sitting in between his legs and they both were looking at you with their signature puppy eyes. Moving your eyes to edward very quickly because you knew if you stared at them for too long you would give in.

Edward looked lost in his thoughts which would always make you put him because you felt that he felt like he was lonely. You would call him the lone wolf of the pack which he hated. But he couldn’t stay mad at you just like you couldn't pick just one of them right now. You need all of them right now. And that’s exactly what you would have.

Jumping down from where you were sitting with the help of Carlisle you didn’t respond verbally. You  just did your hand moment you would always do when you wanted all of the Cullens to follow you but didn’t feel like saying it out loud. And they always answered.

Walking to the kitchen where Esme and Alice were, like she could smell you in the air she turned around with a smile on her face.

“There you are my beautiful, Your soup is almost done. Would you like me to add anything to it?” She said so softly, like if she spoke too loudly you would melt aways in pain. Which was a high possibility the way you were feeling. 

“Nope, you didn’t even have to make me anything you know, I would’ve been fine without.”

“Oh no, you know I love a chance to use the kitchen for you.” She said making you smile because you knew it was true.

“Well if you must, can you come up to the room where you're done?” You asked which she nodded in response to. Satisfied with your answer you turned around walking up the stairs to Carlisle and Esme bedroom. 

All that could be heard behind you were soft footsteps of all of your lovers following you.

Once you made it to the room you sat on the bed finally speaking. 

“All of you, all of us, and all of me. Here in this bed now.” Leaving no room for argument, you got comfortable.

The first to get in the bed with you was Jasper surprising you. He claimed his spot behind you so that you were in his arms and laying on him. 

“The best spot in the house.” He whispered into your ear making you giggle at the ticklish feeling.

Soon following along, each Cullen claimed their spot next to you. Everyone getting one piece of their love. They were satifisty. Meaning so where you.

Once everyone was relaxed Esme came up to the room to feed you the soup she had made you. Though you tried to fight it, you were falling weaker and weaker each minute. This ‘cold’ was kicking your ass. Soon after she was done feeding you she also claimed her spot between you and Caslise. 

A few minutes into laying there you felt your eyes growing heavy. The feeling of hands all over you. The coolness of your lovers cooling you down. You felt content. But you had One question.

“Guys, can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” Each of them said collectively.

“Would you love me if I was a worm?”

“Oh my god-”

“I’d probably step on you.”

“I’d keep you in a beautiful enclosure.”

“I’d give you a little cowboy hat-”

“That’s so stupid.”

And just like that. You were out like a light.

#cullen poly #poly #rosalie cullen xreader #jasper cullen #edward cullen #cullen romance #cullen x reader #rosalie cullen #carlisle cullen #carlisle x esme #xreader #jasper hale x y/n

[bonny-kookoo]

For the ilysib couple 👀 Where they have an argument but realize that they can't be without each other & make up .. maybe with some smut ? 🙈

No smut in this, only suggestive at the end :)

"Jungkook you constantly do this, it's ridiculous!" You complain, shaking your head. "I'm done with this, fuck this!" You argue, not looking at him.

"You're not even letting me talk!" He whines back at you, frantically gesturing with his hands. "I didn't mean to come off like that, come on-" he attempts to make up his mistake, looking at you with a pleading gaze, and you roll your eyes- mostly because you know his stupid round eyes will surely make you cave in.

"You know how I hate it when you don't take me seriously! You didn't even ASK me if I wanted that!" You cry out, angrily folding a skirt you throw into your bag zipped up on the bed.

And that's when he does something that really makes you fume. He's got the audacity to take out each item you just packed, even holding something out of your reach when you grab after it. "Give me that, asshole-" you growl, and he shakes his head.

"You're not leaving like that." He shakes his head, pulling the entire bag off the bed, before he sits down on the side of it. "I was stupid, it was rushed, I should've asked you first, got it. I admit that, I take that, it's my fault-" he says, and you make the mistake to look at his stupid bambi-gaze, feeling your heated anger already losing its fire. "-But don't leave. Please." He asks, hands on his knees palms facing upwards. "I'm sorry I always treat you like I do, I'll really work on it." He promises, and you sigh, arms still crossed.

"I don't want you to change that.." you mumble, chewing on your lip. "I.. ugh I like it when you like, baby me and shit, I just.." you huff to yourself, averting your eyes from him. You've got no clue how to voice your thoughts and feelings, at all. Because you've gotten so attached to him that you've now become scared to be without him.

You've let him too close, and now you're stuck with him. Now it'll hurt when he leaves. And that scares you.

"I want you to take me seriously." You whine, and he reaches out his arms for you- something you almost instinctively walk towards, letting him pull you onto his lap, hands around your back keeping you secure.

"I am." He nods, and you decide that anger doesn't suit his pretty face.

"But I want you to.. baby me too. Like.. get me shit from shelves too high, and brush my hair, and all that cheesy shit you constantly do.." you say, and he sighs.

"But you can have both?" He wonders, tilting his head to somewhat look at your lowered face. "Just cause I care for you or call you cute and do those things for you doesn't mean I'm not taking you seriously anymore." He explains, and you just shrug, defeated.

"But sometimes I don't wanna be cute." You complain. "Sometimes I wanna be sexy. You know?" You ask, looking at him, and he shakes his head, laughing.

"You're both to me." He chuckles. "That's what makes you so amazing to me. You can switch from absolutely adorable to breathtakingly hot in a split second. Makes me dizzy sometimes, not gonna lie." He flirts, and you roll your eyes.

"You just wanna have post-argument-sex right now, admit it." He laughs, loudly so, throwing his head back, before he grins at you again.

"See? Right now you're both again-" he smiles, hands sneaking under your loose shirt. "Cute and sexy. And just for the record, while I wouldn't say no, I wasn't aiming for that." He says, trying to appear seriously.

"Ah well, you're getting it anyways.." you shrug, before you leave his lap, and flop down on the bed next to him on your back. "You're doing all the work though, I'm still huffy at you for pulling that shit." You say, and he laughs fo himself, leaning over you, quickly loosing his shirt.

"Don't worry.." he purrs down at you, eyes now sharp as they look down at you. "I'll take care of you."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook imagines #bts jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader

[kitkatcarkeys]

Really embarrassing moments for Y/n and how the boys handled them (minific) - Bakugou

Bakugou:

You had an indestructibility quirk. The only things that weren’t completely indestructible were your hair and nails (thank goodness). They were still ridiculously, insanely strong, but it wasn’t impossible to cut them (with enough time, energy and force).

Bakugou was a surprisingly clingy boyfriend. Grumpy as he was, he liked to be near you, and if he had something to do, he wanted you with him. Training, he wanted to do it together. Studying, together. Cooking, together. Shopping, together. The list went on and on. He still had his own life, and his own hobbies and you each enjoyed your hours of private time, but he never understood why roughly every two weeks, you would disappear for the day, locked in your room and refusing all guests.

You wouldn’t even tell him what it was for. Rude as he was, Bakugou still respected your boundaries, even if he’d still question or complain about them. So he was frustrated that you would keep him from seeing you those days with zero explanation.

Then the day you had dreaded came. Your equipment, specialised for your body and your room – broke. You had simply worn it out.

Looking at it in dismay, you came to the realisation that you would have to go to the support department for a new one. Like most people, you only had to cut your hair every few months. Near indestructible hair didn’t really have much in the way of breakage. Or any breakage, actually. You had to book a particular hero with particular abilities to cut it, and thankfully said hero was an old friend of your parents. It still took about 12 hours by itself, and was cut one strand at a time. Heck, it was what your hero costume was made out of and could withstand fire, pressure, radiation, et cetera, just like you.

It was your nails you needed more time for. And the diamond-based, super-strong, super-fast grinder you had in your dorm had just broke. You even had a special exhaust system to remove the airborne filings so they wouldn’t get stuck in everything like hell’s fibreglass. Heck, you wore a specialised onesie that covered your whole head just so the stuff wouldn’t get on your clothes and hair. Only your hands and feet were uncovered. You looked like a bizarre space baby sitting with your toes or hands against a grinder. The suit was soundproof, and you were usually watching movies or listening to music, podcasts, et cetera to pass the time, and had snacks stuffed inside your suit to amuse yourself and make sure you ate during this long, boring time.

This was the embarrassing reality and price of indestructibility that you didn’t want your boyfriend to see. You loved your quirk. You loved being able to protect your friends, to take the hits others couldn’t, to go into places others would die in, and to focus on offence with your defence taken care of. But the grinder was so loud, your room had to be heavily soundproofed to prevent your grooming from disturbing the whole building.

And now you had to leave to get a new one.

After the air had been suitably cleaned and you were able to take off the goofy suit, you left your room and made your way towards the exit, passing through the common room area of the dorm.

Kirishima and Bakugou were in the middle of cooking, your boyfriend bossing around the chatty redhead as they worked. He stopped mid-sentence upon seeing you come in.

“Hey y/n!” Kirishima called, waving a potato peeler at you.

You waved back, smiling. Bakugou was staring at you, confused. You never left your room on these days you demanded privacy. He knew you were able to move the days around if you absolutely had to, but he still had no idea what you did on them. And he was curious.

“Kirishima, when you’re done peeling those, chop them into quarters and put them in the slow cooker!” he said, already pulling off his apron. “Add the other shit we measured, then turn it onto hot, then leave it alone! Set the timer for eight hours!”

“Huh? You trust me with this-?” Kirishima asked, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Of course I do, just don’t fuck it up!” he barked, pulling on his shoes to follow you out the door.

---------

You tried to convince him not to come, but it was like trying to convince a dropped brick not to fall.

“I’m just going to the support department.” you insisted. “You’ll be bored.”

“I’ll decide when I’m bored!” he argued back.

When you walked in to find Hatsume and showed her photos of the grinder without letting Bakugou see, she quickly threw all subtley out the window.

“Oh, your super-strong, super-durable, diamond grade nail grinder wheel Hercules3000 finally broke! That’s great!” she said, loudly enough for the whole room, plus those down the hall, to hear.

Bakugou stared at you, and you felt your face burning.

“Yes, my nail file-” you started.

“Don’t worry! My new baby Hercules5000 will be perfect! And all I needed was somewhere to install him!” Hatsume cried happily, rivalling only Bakugou’s volume, the blond boy silent for once.

“I left the other one in the room so the cleaning system would look after it-” you started, trying to convince yourself that Bakugou wasn’t bug-eyed and staring at you from three feet away.

“Oh, yes, yes!” Hatsume verbally bulldozed over you, “I don’t know anyone else who has toenails filings that can generate the kind of damage only pyroclastic flow can! If I ever decide to make biological weapons that cause purely physical damage, I’ll come to you for raw materials!” She cackled at the thought.

You were mortified.

“...You’ve been ignoring me for entire days to trim your fuckin’ nails?” Bakugou asked in disbelief.

You could only hide your face in your hands.

“Oh, it’s a very complicated system-” Hatsume started, “She has to grind them with specialised equipment, plus extract out the deadly dust to prevent injuring people with-”

“Nooo~!” you cried, embarrassed beyond belief.

“I figured it out, no worries! Hercules5000 has an in-built power-washing system to remove everything in half the time!” the support item specialist assured. “I finally figured out a pipe material that-”

“It all fuckin’ makes sense now.” Bakugou said, eyes narrowing at you. “You don’t get calluses, your skin is perfect, your hair doesn’t need any masks, I never got what the hell your “maintenance days” were supposed to be! You don’t even need sunscreen!”

“Oh, and Hercules5000 can shave hair as well, of course (if you want that) just like his older brother! And I’ve got a new suit-”

“Hatsume, please!” you begged, “Talking to you about it is fine, but I’m embarrassed with-!” You looked helplessly in Bakugou’s direction.

“The hell is embarrassing about that?” Bakugou demanded, irritated now. “Everyone needs grooming! It’s-”

Hatsume whipped out your specialised super-onesie and Bakugou paused, staring.

After a beat of silence he spoke quietly, but firmly. “Make me one too.”

Your jaw dropped, staring at him in disbelief.

Hatsume was more than happy to, and actually had a spare lying around. Adding footies and gloves to cover all of Bakugou was easy.

He had to argue to convince you to let him use it, but the two were even radio-linked to so you and Bakugou could talk during the self-care sessions. It was definitely easier for you to pass the time. Sometimes you hung out, sometimes you had your alone time. But Bakugou loved you for giving him the option. Not that he’d admit it to your face.

#bnha minific #bnha imagines #bakugou x reader #bakugou imagine #embarrassing #mha imagines #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #mha x reader #kkckwrites #bakugou katsuki x reader

[bumpkinspice0]

Recovery Time: Chapter 7

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors do not interact!!!!!!)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: The possibility of Joel leaving inches ever closer... so does the desperation you have for each other.

Warnings: Smut Smut Smut! (thank you for waiting) Masturbation (M and F), kinda voyeurism?? dirty thoughts, mutual pining, discussions of past character death, a good sprinkle of angst over all of it

Series Masterlist

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AO3

_______________

Chapter 7: Through the Window

You’re awoken by the steady, rhythmic sound of wood chopping one morning. It was just barely past dawn. He’s cutting the pile you’ve been avoiding for days. Well, you won’t complain. You start a pot of hot water for tea and stroll to the far window overlooking the wood pile– Joel diligently working away.

“Gotta start getting my strength back,” he’d told you the other day when he started taking on bigger and bigger tasks. No crutches or stitches to tear anymore, he was unstoppable. Antsy to do almost anything. He’d be a physical therapist's dream.

You can’t help but shudder a little at the sight of him– stripped out of his usual flannel and jacket and down to a sweat-drenched white tee. Even without the bulk of extra clothes, he still looked massive. His muscles rippled with every swing of the ax. He didn’t look remotely tired after nearly halfway through the pile. A chore that was so arduous for you must have been so easy for someone built like him, even with his injuries.

You should get his attention. You should call out his name and invite him for a warm cup of tea. And you will— in a second. 

God, you’re such a perv.

He gets to a particularly stubborn log— a massive oak stump. You were certain you’d never be able to split it since it was larger than your torso. You kept it anyway assuming you’d end up using it as a makeshift table somewhere. After 3 wide swings from Joel, the log still wouldn’t split. He lets out a grunt of frustration, staring down the massive hunk of wood. His grip tightens around the ax, determination on his face. He swings again, and again, and again, taking no rest time between swings. He grunts with mighty effort on the fifth swing and finally the stubborn log spits. He pauses there for a moment, hunched over an ax still in the wood. He breathes heavy and ragged gasps, gathering himself from such great effort.

He pulls up his shirt to wipe his grimy face and you get a small glimpse of his torso. Toned and littered with scars. You’d seen it maybe a dozen times by now, but something about seeing him like this— sweaty and heaving from work. It lights a fire inside you.

You turn away from the window, suddenly scared he’ll spot you— if he hasn’t already. You feel the heat creeping into your cheeks and your mind delves into more sinful thoughts. It’s embarrassing, your visceral want for him. He could be sitting there doing nothing and you’d find something new about him to drool over. Another thing to crave about him. 

You lean back against the wall next to the window, still just out of view. You hear him start chopping again. Steady swings of the ax followed by his strained grunts. Just listening to it makes your imagination run wild.

TWACK!

You shamefully dip your hand below your sweatpants waistband, pawing over the clothed wetness that waited there. You muffle a moan as you plunge a finger inside. You slide down to the floor, spreading your knees wide.

TWACK!

What would he do if he walked in right now, you wonder. Would he be disgusted or intrigued? Would he watch you finish or take over and do it himself? You hoped he would. He seems like the kind of man who would take what he wanted. You’d let him— without question.

TWACK!

It’s pathetic how something as simple as this gets you worked up over him— though admittedly there’s been several nights where your imagination has done much worse. Nights spent wriggling under the covers in your lonely bed while he sleeps just outside. You’re sick, you’re depraved, you’re so horny you can’t even bring yourself to care right now. You still hear him out there, slaving away— heavy breath after heavy breath.

TWACK!

You stifle another moan as you start to circle your clit slowly.

When was the last time someone touched you? Actually, you don’t want to think about it. Too damn long was always the answer. You had a small handful of not-so-stellar boyfriends growing up but never had a partner after the infection. You had your fair share of quick fucks after the world ended. Seldom any love or actual desire involved. It always felt like it was out of necessity. Just to feel something. To feel good. Feel human again. Always to just feel human— the way Joel made you feel.

He lets out a small shout on what must have been a particularly large log. Your pace quickens. Your legs tense and push you harder into the wall as you feel the oncoming climax growing. 

You think about his strong hands. Those wide shoulders.Those plump fucking lips.

Absolutely pathetic.

You come with a quiet gasp out to the empty air, the forgotten kettle whistling finished on the stove. You don’t move yet, coasting on the waves of bliss for just a minute more. It’s so fleeting when it’s from your hands. 

He would make it better, you think. You wholeheartedly believe he would. 

“Darlin’?” His voice from outside is like a bucket of cold water. He must have heard the kettle going off. You quickly scramble to your feet and put on your bravest face. At least he didn’t come inside.

You turn back to the window and see him standing there, a quizzical look on his face and blissfully unaware of what you’d just done… What he drove you to do. 

“Tea’s ready!”

______________

The woods were so peaceful in the fall. It was always Joel’s favorite season. The beginning of the end before the long months of winter. He wasn’t prepared for the brutal northern winters, being a born and bred Texan man. Hell, he barely had seasons down south. The first winter up here he swore he’d never been that cold in his life. Tess spent a fair amount of time laughing at him and Tommy through it. Eventually the cold crept into his bones and settled there.

Once he was used to the cold everything else came. Seeing the beauty in such defined seasons. Humid summers to sub-zero temperatures, he still doubts humans were ever supposed to experience such change constantly. Or maybe they were and that’s what made humanity endure through all this crap. Was humanity enduring? Is that what this was? 

Gus darting up behind him pulls him from his thoughts. Every trap had come up empty so he opted for a little impromptu hunt instead. His being here was burning through your supplies faster than you’d probably anticipated. Bringing back something to eat was the least he could do. You said he needed to get out and walk more, so he was walking. 

He was walking rather well actually. The pain all over had finally subsided into something manageable. His limp was almost gone, bruises almost faded, and wounds healed closed. He was almost himself again. So it begged the question—

Why was he still here? 

Actually, it’s a stupid question. It’s stupid because he knows the answer. He wasn’t staying for the convenience or a bed, he could get all that in the QZ. He was staying for you. He didn’t want to leave you out here. It’s not the kind of man he wanted to be, to just take so much and run. So here he was, out here hunting, hoping to bring home an animal big enough to ease his conscience. It was a futile effort. No amount of repayment would be enough. So it begs another question.

What did he really have to go back to?

Without Tommy, his family, there was almost nothing. There was Tess but she was more than capable of holding her own. But he owed her his life too in a lot of ways. She’d been there with him through worse shit. People depended on him… right? He was a supplier for almost anything. But did he actually care enough about any of his clients to go back? No. No, of course not. He was expendable back there. Just muscle. Easily replaced, easily forgotten. Life in the QZ was simple survival. Dirty and just scraping by. Finding anything to numb the pain.

Whatever he was doing in the QZ, it wasn’t something anyone could consider living. Not like out here. Not like with you. You made him want to try harder. He wanted to give back to you. You made life something worth living again. 

And there was just no repayment for that. 

Still, he’s going to try.

Gus drops in front of him, his snout pointing forward and slightly to the right. He crouches next to the dog, then he sees it. A massive Tom turkey strutting his way through the bush. It lets out an obnoxious gobble, seeming unaware it was now being hunted.

Joel slowly brings the rifle forward, steadying his aim, and— BANG! The Tom sputters and flies around wildly, now mortally injured. Gus runs forward and finishes the job. He brings back the limp turkey, proudly carrying it in his maw. 

Joel leans down and gives the dog a good rough scratch behind the ears.

“Good boy.”

______________

A whole turkey. He’s brought back a whole fucking turkey. It was a welcome change from the random squirrels and rabbits and quickly dwindling venison jerky supply. You’d make it count, rip out every piece of meat you could off the thing, make bone broth, hell you’d even put those gorgeous feathers on display as a decoration. Nothing goes to waste here.

Joel sat in the living room with his guitar. After having shot and dressed the damn bird for you, he deserved the break. You scurry about the kitchen, gathering every herb and vegetable you can to season such an amazing prize. It was too early in the year for Thanksgiving, but that didn’t stop you. It was a little overboard, probably, but a part of you was a little giddy about it. 

Joel aimlessly plays his sweet melodies nearby. A blush creeps into your cheeks as you’re reminded of the dance you’d shared on his not-birthday. Something shifted that night. In him, in you. He was… gentler. Sweeter towards you even. Something had started that night. Something was said without saying anything at all. Despite his gruff exterior, Joel Miller had a heart underneath it all. You’re not sure what you stirred up inside it that night but you were both… just different.

And neither of you was brave enough to take the next step.

He leans back with a sigh, stretching out his fingers. He shifts the instrument on his lap, his gaze running over the wooden curves. It must have been so nice to have something like this back in his life, you think.

“Who’s Ruth?”

His question catches you off guard. Ruth. You hadn’t heard her name in so long.

“How do you know that name?” you ask. 

“It’s carved right here?” He turns the beaten-up old guitar around and there it is scrawled into the back, clear as day. With love, Ruth. That’s right, she’d given him that guitar, all the way back in their college days. 

“She was… she was Art’s wife,” you answer, images of her kind face flashing across your memory. Someone far too sweet to be with an old curmudgeon like Art. She’s the whole reason you’re here at all, in a way. Maybe it’s time you told someone about her too. She deserved that. “She’s why this place is out here.”

“Really?” Joel’s eyebrows raise with intrigue. When did he get so interested in your stories?

“They were college sweethearts. Her a country girl and Art a born and bred Boston man. Both Harvard grads. Him a med student, her an English major.”

“This sounds like a Danielle Steel novel.” Joel snorts. If you weren’t elbow-deep in a turkey carcass, you would have smacked him.

“A romantic story requires good execution, Mr. Miller,” you wave your turkey juice-drenched hand in the air, “Shall I continue?”

“Please, go on Ms. Steel.” He gestures equally as dramatically. 

“Art got a cushy job at Boston General almost right away after residency. They were already married by then. I think Ruth was working at some college at that point. She hated it, apparently. She didn’t even need to work, with her husband being a top surgeon at a top hospital. She didn’t know how to sit still. How to be a good housewife, she told me once. But she stuck it out for him. For Art and his career. She didn’t tell him until years later how unhappy she was in the city. He had no idea. They had a cute little house in West Lake within six months.”

“Just like that?” Joel interrupts. 

“Just like that,” You smile to yourself, remembering the love in Ruth’s eyes whenever she’d tell you the tale of her life. You didn’t understand the depth of it all as a child. Their commitment to each other. “He loved that woman. He’d do almost anything for her. She wanted a small town, a community she’d be comfortable in. He just wanted her to be happy. She was my elementary school teacher, and he was a doctor for a town of no more than two thousand. Two Harvard graduates. ” 

“So why this place? They didn’t live out here?”

“No, no,” You wrap the completed turkey in twine, almost ready for roasting now, “This was a present for her. A surprise 30th-anniversary gift. She loved the woods. The quiet. Art solicited my dad’s help and they worked for months in secret… But…”

Joel’s expression drops, likely already guessing the twist, “But?” he prompts.

“She was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma in ‘95. Bone cancer. She didn’t want any chemo treatments. It ate her up within a year.” Your voice quivers just slightly. The memories of her so weak and small in bed— It’s not how you wanted to remember her. Art took an extended leave for all of it. At her bedside the whole time. 

“She… never saw the cabin, then?” He asks so quietly you almost miss it.

“She did,” You answer, sliding the turkey onto its rack inside the stove, “He showed her when she was first diagnosed. They spent as much time out here as they could before she was completely bedridden.”

You rinse off your hands and take a seat next to Joel on the couch. His gaze lingers on the back of the guitar, thumb sweeping over the crudely burned in letters. Maybe you should have told him this was a sad story. That’s all there seemed to be anymore. 

“Did she like it?” he finally asks. 

You smile, resting your hand on his forearm. His eyes drift to yours. 

“She loved it.” Your hand drifts down to the neck of the guitar, “This was her gift to him when he started residency. She still had a year of college left and he got a spot in a hospital across the state. He always talked about wanting to learn guitar but never took it up. She forced his hand, told him to learn it for her on top of learning how to be a doctor. Or so she told me.”

He laughs lightly at that, “Sounds like a good woman.”

“She was.”

“I’d buy that book, I suppose.” He smiles at you, though there’s not much joy behind it.

Your touch lingers on the carved wood of the guitar, your fingers just inches from his. Ruth was someone special. With your own mother leaving before you could remember, she was almost like a surrogate mother to you. While Art only seemed to tolerate you in those days, she well and truly loved you. 

You were only a teenager but Art was never quite the same after she died. Even more reclusive and cantankerous of an old man. Your father was the only friend he couldn’t completely push away, then he eventually died too. Then you and Art were just stuck with each other, living through something neither of you could ever be prepared for. 

But you’d seen his soft side before. Art cared, even if he acted like he didn’t. He was a doctor after all. He may not have been nice but he would move mountains for his patients. For people who needed him. He did it for you all the time.

Well, he used to. 

“Well,” You slap your knees, standing up off the couch, “We got more chores to do before we can have Thanksgiving, Miller.”

He groans, gently setting the guitar aside, “You got it, Ms. Steel.”

______________

Early Thanksgiving dinner came and went that evening. 

Twilight rolled in, the last specks of light quickly fading through the trees. Finishing the laundry was your last task of the day. You rushed to get the wet clothes out on the line before it got this dark. You almost succeeded. He watches from the window, cutting up and storing what remains of the turkey. It’s cute, he thinks as he watches you scurry to finish the laundry. 

You work quickly trying to do it all at once. A soapy bucket on the ground filled with soaking clothes you quickly tried to ring out and pin up. In your haste to grab the next item, you splash the entire front of your pants. Joel pauses, observing a little too closely how the wet fabric clings to your legs. You let out a grunt of frustration and just stare down at your now-soaked clothes for a moment.  Maybe he should go out and help. Maybe. You shrug and make a decision he never would have guessed in a million fucking years.

You peel off your pants, throw them in the bucket, and continue about your chore like nothing fucking happened. 

His teeth almost break at how tightly his jaw clenches. He drops the knife and stops whatever he’s doing for fear he’ll cut his fingers off, mesmerized by the tantalizing sway of your ass. Your smooth bare legs against the cool night air. 

You wore a flannel, the back of it just not quite long enough to cover all of you. The bottom of your cheeks just barely poking out from underneath the curved hem. Only when you reached up could he see it all. He watches you intently, like it’s a game. He pictures you in one of his shirts instead— Walking around the morning after he’s spent the night wrecking you.

He palms himself through his jeans, suddenly painfully hard from shameful thoughts— yet he can’t seem to look away. God, you were right there, half fucking naked. You had to have known he’d see you, right? Did you just not care or did you want him to see? The idea of you doing this all for him makes his cock jump. Sinful— disgusting thoughts, old man. 

He glances over his shoulder to make sure the coast is clear, if only out of force of habit. The only other human for miles is in front of him, her dog sitting idly by her side and her cat asleep on the couch. He pulls himself out of his straining pants, giving his hard length a slow rough stroke. 

It was a game now, which just made it all the more exciting for him. You couldn’t have had that many clothes left but he doubts he could last long. He could hide himself away in the bathroom, but then he couldn’t see you. He couldn’t see the goosebumps pricking at your delicate skin in the cold fall air and imagine they were actually from him. It was a game and he loved it. 

His strokes quicken. You could turn around at any moment and see him. Would you like him like this, he wonders. Hard and desperate for you. 

Then you bend over— and he sees the outline of your clothed pussy peek from underneath your gorgeous round ass. God, he wanted it all. If it all matched the rest of you, your bare cunt would surely be perfect. You were beautiful, in every sense of the word. 

You could be his. All he’d have to do is ask. 

But he won’t. He knows he won’t. He’d be a burden to you again eventually. He just knew it. This was for the best.

For now, imagining what you’d be like will have to do. Good thing Joel had a vivid imagination.

You start to turn around and he falls to the kitchen floor before you can see him, still furiously stroking his throbbing cock. Almost getting caught was the last thrill he needed. He comes all over his hand with a pained hiss through his teeth. He sits there panting for a moment, trying to ride the high as long as possible. He wishes it was enough.

Then he hears it, the loud sloshing of water being dumped outside. You’d finished the laundry. He quickly tucks himself back in his pants and washes the shame that painted his hands down the sink. Idiot— vial, disgusting, idiot. 

The back door creaks open and your voice quietly squeaks though, “Don’t turn around, okay.”

“Why?” he plays dumb.

“Just don’t!” he swears he hears the blush in your voice. Adorable. 

“Yeah, but why?”

“Joel, it’s cold out here. Please!”

“Alright, darlin’,” The sound of your footsteps quickly skittering behind him and the bedroom door slamming makes him smile. 

In another world he’d go back there with you, kiss up your goose-bumped legs, and devour you under the sheets until you were warmed up again. Until you were screaming for him to stop, then he’d hold you close the entire night and make sure you never got cold again. Never felt alone ever again. 

In another world.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #tlou #joel tlou #the last of us #recovery time

[ynmnrmt]

You & Me & Rhea Makes Three

rhea ripley x m!reader x m!reader's girlfriend

word count: 4,471

warnings: explicit sexual content, themes of domination/submission, intoxication, dubiously consensual nonmonogamy

a/n: There's more chapters if you like this. What is 'wrestling', anyway?

You are on the couch with your girlfriend Jennifer. It has reached that special time of the evening when the lights being down this low makes sense, and you have just opened a second bottle of wine. Jen drains her glass, nearly hiccups, then fixes you with her big blue eyes and asks “Could we make love tonight?”

“Of course,” you say brightly, and feed her a chocolate from the heart-shaped box that lies open on the table. As she closes her mouth around it, her lips take hold of the tips of your fingers, and for a moment do not give them back. Then she feeds you a chocolate, and you grimace at the flaky taste of coconut inside but try not to let it show, this is not the moment for that.

“It’s been so long,” she complains, “I know it’s not your fault, but all those trips away – and, alright, this isn’t my fault either, but I’ve had all those night shifts, so whenever we do get a moment together and I’m actually awake I wish I wasn’t.” She tails off, and reaches for her glass again. “I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry it’s taken so long to just have a moment like this.”

“You,” you say, taking her little hand in yours, “have nothing to be sorry about. Come here.” You lean forward, and she leans in too, and when you kiss it does feel somehow unfamiliar, maybe she has a point. For a moment you break apart – then go back in, hungrier than before, the burst of oxygen fuelling the fire. She grabs for your arms and shoulders, takes hold of you, reluctant to let you go, and it makes your underwear feel tight and swampy.

As she mouths as your face, you hold her too, of course you do, one hand on her back to pull her in closer and the other on her hip. And before you know it the hand on her hip strays upwards, it slips its way in under her shirt and along her flat tummy, when you grasp the material of her bra she giggles.

“Let’s,” she slurs, all flushed with affection and wine, “turn things up a bit.” She clumsily pulls at her shirt, it comes up over her head no problem but then she is stuck with her arms tangled in the air, and you have to tug it free from the points of tension where it resists. Then it comes off, flies off to one side to be forgotten, and Jennifer sits pleased before you, panting for breath already and bare from the waist up except for the purple bands of her bra.

“You’re making me so-” you say. But then the door opens and your roommate, WWE superstar Rhea Ripley, comes in at a rush. It’s a small door, she has to turn to get through it, and then she slams it shut again after her and flashes you a wicked grin.

“I won,” she whispers, and gives the championship belt that hangs from her shoulder a little waggle.

“You did?” says Jennifer, delighted.

“Brilliant, that’s brilliant! Well done!” you tell Rhea as she throws out her magnificent arms and wiggles her shoulders, exulting in her own glory. It’s a shame to be distracted when you’re about to have sex, but you can still be polite. Rhea steps neatly around the room with her face lit up with joy, still celebrating, she poses for an audience of two and in her black leather bodice that has every inch of the muscles in her arms on show she hardly looks any more dressed than Jennifer. Then in one careful movement she throws herself in the air – and lands with a crash on the couch, between you.

Now you and Jennifer are both in her arms, an arm each, she has you secured in the kind of headlock she probably does professionally all the time and kisses you both with some force on the side of your heads. You shift about awkwardly in her grip, trying not to let her see how turned on you are.

“You must be so pleased,” gushes Jennifer.

“Yeah, I know how hard you’ve worked-” you’re saying, when Rhea finishes punching the air with glee and lands one hand down in your lap, and you jerk to a halt when she touches your erection, not just a touch, the full span of her hand across it.

“Oh my God!” exclaims Rhea – and only then snatches her hand back. “Oh my God, you two were getting sexy and – did I walk right in on you? Oh God, I’m sorry.” Rhea’s back on her feet, and it breaks your heart a little to see the happiness that beamed from her long, lovely face replaced by sudden concern. Somehow the dark makeup around her eyes makes it seem more sincere. “I didn’t even realise. Oh, and you’ve got the chocolates and the candles and everything. Hey, look, ignore me, alright? Pretend I’m not here, I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, come on, you ought to celebrate-” insists Jennifer.

“No, really, it’s fine. I don’t want to get in your way,” says Rhea. As she’s wearing tight PVC shorts, it’s hard for you not to look at the swell of her ass as she crosses the room. But then, framed in the doorway, she regains her fully-costumed majesty when she turns to look back at you and asks “Could I get a chocolate?”

You expect Rhea to just reach in the box and take one, but then Jennifer’s picked up the box – and out of this confusion Rhea drops to her knees in front of you and opens her mouth like a baby bird, and you can’t not then pick out a chocolate, one of the ones with the darker drizzle on top, and slot it in her mouth. Her lips close around your last finger just like Jennifer’s did, and for a second she sucks down the length of it, your hard-on nearly pulls a muscle. Oblivious, Rhea kneels there, chocolate in her cheek, look of satisfaction back on her face.

“We, uh, we might go off to bed – you can have the room,” says Jennifer.

Rhea lifts her eyebrows, and swallows. “No, no, it’s all yours, don’t let me stop you. I mean, I know how you feel, after a match like that I’m in the mood for a good lay.” She smacks her lips at Jennifer, and as if in trance Jennifer feeds her a chocolate too. You want to say something, because when will this kind of opportunity possibly come along again, but you cannot possibly imagine the words for it. “But maybe, you’d like to make this a bit more of a party. I’ve got champagne in the fridge, we can see what happens.”

“This was meant to be our special night,” insists Jennifer, slightly wounded, but then she glances at you and adds “but, it could be fun?”

“Yes,” you say, throat dry, “maybe it would.” Rhea is back on her feet and out of the room, you hear her rattle about in the kitchen. “Why do you have champagne, Rhea?”

“I mean, I knew how it was going to go tonight,” her voice floats through. She comes back with the bottle, shredding the foil over the cork. “Let’s go-” and she rips the cork out, too, then with the practised thumb of a woman who’s done this a lot spritzes you with the spray of foam. It catches you off-guard, it soaks your shirt and makes you laugh out loud. Rhea swings the bottle about, the stream of bubbles blast Jennifer squarely in the face – then, as she splutters, Rhea douses her own chest, as if to cool herself down. With her head back and her eyes closed and a little smile playing on her dark lips she’s clearly enjoying it.

“Oh my God,” gapes Jennifer, liquid running down her cheeks, “you soaked the couch!” But when Rhea motions her over to get some, she springs right into action, and drains her wine to have an empty glass. You quickly do the same, not wanting to be left out. Then, standing together, your head and your erection wavering dazedly between these two wet women, you toast Rhea, clinking your glass against Jennifer’s, as well as the bottle in Rhea’s fist.

“Well, here’s to us,” you say, after a swig that feels like harder liquor.

“Jesus, this is tight,” says Rhea, and thumbs open the first buckle of her bodice with a climactic-sounding grunt of relief, to reveal the beginnings of her breasts. Jennifer clutches at you, but she looks at Rhea’s chest. “I’m so glad you guys were up for this and didn’t go eurgh or anything, you’re such a cute couple and I’ve really wanted this for...and of course, I knew you’d be into it.” You tense up, thinking she could somehow tell, even though the bulge in your pants makes it shamefully obvious just how into it you are – but her dark-lipped, knowing smile isn’t towards you, it’s towards Jennifer. “Can I tell him?” Rhea adds.

Jennifer flushes, suddenly worried. “D-do you have to?” she stutters.

“Oh, come on, we’re all friends – I walked in on your pretty girlfriend masturbating to me,” confesses Rhea, and Jennifer turns pale as if this hasn’t added an extra frisson.

“It wasn’t to you,” she protests. “I was doing it anyway, you walked in-”

“You didn’t stop,” gloats Rhea.

“I was – I was literally already coming at the moment you came in, and – I was thinking about you,” Jennifer insists, clutching at your arm.

“Hey, it’s alright,” you say, and clutch her back, stroke her, try to reassure.

“It was my fault anyway – I’m glad you didn’t think this was, like, a betrayal,” says Rhea, and now she’s stroking you, her hand curls on your back. “Please don’t be angry with her, if you’re angry with anyone it should be me.”

“Alright, I’m not.”

“I’m so glad,” says Jennifer, all breathless, and then Rhea kisses you both again – hard, on the mouth, when she bites your lip you yelp and pull away to see her looking distinctly predatory and unbearably sexy. With hardly a motion she throws you both back onto the couch, and again slams down on it herself, on top of you, hips rolling and grinding as if she’s fucking you already.

Rhea reaches down and pulls, hard, with both hands, the cords swell in her arms and you dance on the edge of coming. You hear the rip, for one crazy second you figure it must be your flesh tearing but there is no pain, only your erection bobbing free in the air, she’s actually torn your trousers open. Then, with a bit of awkward repositioning, she’s opened up the zip of her short-shorts, grabbed your cock, and with a wicked flash of her black-rimmed eyes worked it up inside her.

“That’s so hot-” begins Jennifer. Then Rhea’s solid arm shoots out to cover Jennifer’s mouth, leaving her making the kind of muffled little moans you feel rise in your chest. She reaches desperately for you, her hands flop over you while Rhea’s cunt takes hold of you and refuses to let you go.

Desperately trying not to come, you reach up Rhea’s muscular back, maybe you’d meant to grab her but it’s more like you’re holding on for dear life. And you try to thrust, too, as best you can with her magnificent body pressed down on you, but it feels like nothing compared to the way she moves, she arcs back and forth, hard and fast like a machine but warmer and softer than any machine could ever be. As you cling to her, her undercut scrapes your face, and in the moment that nearly knocks you over the edge.

With each slam of her hips the studs on her bodice bruise your chest, and each one feels like a kiss. But not nearly so much as it does when she gets one hand on the back of your head, so you cannot escape – as if you would – and bites your lip again. You whimper, but it’s through a twisted smile.

Rhea’s movements become more frantic, more jarring and less controlled. Something shifts in her face, not the smug grin of victory any more but her mouth hanging open in amazement, she was wet already but now she feels like a typhoon around your cock. With one final jolt of the hips she freezes, throws her head back and cries out and soaks you. Jennifer watches it all with big liquid eyes.

With the orgasm out, sexual release pouring off her like steam, Rhea collapses forward on top of you. Your lip is swollen, it may be bleeding, the pain might be the only think stopping you immediately coming inside her. Now she’s taking a break you thrust again, you jerk your hips as best you can in the limited space between the cushions of the couch and her powerful body, it feels like an empty gesture but she perks up and goes “Oh!” as you do your best to give it back to her. With this encouragement she gets right back into action, pounding down on your hips, her zipper rakes at some sensitive areas but it barely registers next to the way her cunt squeezes you, as if when she draws back she wants to bring you with her.

Your thrusts synchronise, you move together, though you feel more like you are clinging to her sculpted waist and trying not to be flung off while she does the work. But if it is one-sided, she clearly doesn’t mind, her dark lips still curled in that knowing grin, her eyes still flashing out from the hollows of her makeup with lust and joy. And when her black painted mouth opens it produces the kind of low moans that pull at your heart.

Jennifer whimpers next to you. By way of keeping her involved you reach out to touch her, you want to convey some of this supremely erotic encounter over to her, instead you squeeze her breast. All the while you feel as if you’re going to knock a hole in Rhea’s insides, but she clearly doesn’t mind, she bows her head and nips at your ear, you hear her hot breath loud and lustful.

Then it is you who gives a feeble little moan when the endless slick motion pushes you over the edge, and you pump out what feels like a gallon of come. Rhea gives a few more agonising, beautiful shoves of her hips before she tumbles happily off you and lands roughly on top of Jennifer.

“That was so good,” sighs Rhea, and nuzzles at Jennifer’s cheek.

“Yeah,” says Jennifer, breathless herself even though she was hardly involved. She still has the mark of Rhea’s black lipstick at an angle across her mouth. “That was really hot. I’d never even thought…” As if drawn by a magnet you flop down on top of them as well, and reach your head past Rhea’s to kiss your girlfriend. But Rhea is still there, and it is so easy for her to horn her way in, and soon you do not know who you’re kissing or why.

Then Rhea swishes to her feet and breaks you and Jennifer apart. She plants one big chunky boot on the couch, between you, and says “Unzip me.” Jennifer swallows down the rest of her glass of wine in a second, and wastes no time taking the zip between thumb and forefinger – but works it down slowly, her other hand behind Rhea’s calf as if she’s afraid of losing her grip. For a moment you feel displaced, there is no unzipping for you, but then Rhea catches your eye, and plucks at the buckles of her bodice, and immediately you rise to join her.

It is a fumbly experience, not because the buckles are hard to negotiate, but because your hands are shaking, you are still incredibly turned on and feeling the soft strength of Rhea’s chest under the black leather doesn’t help. When you get the garment open she sighs, long and low, like she can finally breathe properly and stretches in a way that sends her breasts up into your face.

“I hadn’t realised,” you say dumbly, dazed at the sight of her bare skin, “you were interested in anything like this.”

“I was worried you might not be,” she says, casual and lighthearted, half a giggle to the words as she stretches her powerful arms back and forth over her head. Then she sets them back, and allows you to pull her bodice off completely. You gaze dreamlike at how she tapers down from her broad shoulders to her tight waist, on some level jealous of her, unable to imagine anyone wouldn’t want to look the way she does.

Down by your hip, Jennifer still fumbles desperately at Rhea’s boot, and very nearly has it open down to the ankle. You kneel to help her, with a little tug the boot comes off, and Rhea wiggles her toes at you – then she tries to put her foot down, and nearly overbalances from the extra two inches she has from the other boot. You and Jennifer shoot upright with no conferring to make sure she doesn’t fall, and gently cradle her in your many arms, sit her carefully down, and in businesslike fashion get that remaining boot off, for her own safety’s sake.

“Aren’t you sweet,” smiles Rhea. She refills your glasses, puts them back in your hands. Jennifer sips nervously and loudly, she shakes even worse than you do. “I liked it when he gave you a honk,” she muses to Jennifer, and then drops a hand down on Jennifer’s breast to give it a little squeeze, just the way you did. “You know, a quick honk?” Jennifer giggles when she keeps going, nervous laughs around her glass. In what you bizarrely think of as some kind of retaliation then you reach out for Rhea’s nearest breast, you’re even rough when you grab it, she just looks back at you and flashes her winningest smile. She snakes one beefy arm around you and squeezes you right back.

Jennifer shuffles forward on the couch, sitting right on the edge. Her glass clacks down on the table and she nervously proposes “Um, could it be my turn next?” Her eyes, dazed with lust, focus on you and she smiles with nothing but hope.

Rhea leans forward, she does not completely block Jennifer from your view, but she is there. “Oh, sweetie...you’re drunk,” she says, as if explaining two plus two, while she curls a finger and tickles Jennifer gently under her chin. “I wouldn’t want you to do anything you might regret.”

“Oh!” replies Jennifer, suddenly short of breath, but not angry about it, rather as if she immediately sees the sense in what Rhea says. Her head bobs, following Rhea’s finger.

“I would never want to see you get hurt like that,” continues Rhea, as she refills Jennifer’s glass again. “Not that he would, I’m sure he wouldn’t dream of doing anything like that.” A warm glance to you, a stroke of your face, and then she’s put the glass to Jennifer’s lips and actually tilts her head back to send half the contents straight down her throat.

“You’re so considerate,” says Jennifer, all the syllables just about in the right order, then she licks her lips.

“Is – look, is this alright?” you advance, you’re trying to be authoritative and decisive except you’re also genuinely unsure.

“I hope so,” says Rhea, brightly. “I did worry about how this might come across from the outside, that it might look like an established couple taking advantage of their vulnerable single roommate.”

“We should keep this secret,” insists Jennifer, she grabs your arm – and puts your hand in Rhea’s. “A secret, special thing that’s just for us.” And her obvious enthusiasm, drunk though she may be, does make you feel a little less torn.

“I really don’t think we could take advantage of you,” you tell Rhea, and grasp her bulky, lovely arm to underline the point.

“Well,” her voice turns low and sultry, and she leans in close, “let’s pretend you could.” And then she sways back, lying down on Jennifer again which prompts a squeak, and she pulls Jennifer’s legs out under her arms to lie between them.

Part of you wants to protest, to say you’re not ready. But you are - seeing the woman you love most in the world encouraging you to go with the Amazon goddess who’s crept around your thoughts for so long, how could you not be? So you crawl on top of her and mount her, it seems somehow absurd to call it mounting her when you feel about half her size. You rub the end of your cock against her pussy, feeling the sloppy mix of wetness from last time, which hardly feels thirty seconds ago.

But you’re rock-hard again already, and you want it to be because of Jennifer, because of them both – but it’s not, it’s because of Rhea, like a classical sculpture beneath you except warm and breathing. Nothing in the world could make you not put it in her, as hard and fast as possible, strike blindly out for any spot that might make her feel half as good as she does to you, and when you go in she gasps and her face lights up.

You take her by the shoulders for greater leverage, you’re rough again, and it seems like nothing, like punching someone in a dream. The moans she makes, though, they’re from a different kind of dream altogether. You thrust like you have something to say, you catch Jennifer’s eye – I’m doing this for you! - and Rhea absorbs it all without complaint, but she pushes back, her heat, her wetness, oh God how she pushes back.

To start with it seems hard, the usual struggle of the second go-round, as if you have to fight yourself. But when Rhea has a full body-shiver of pleasure that you feel too, and Jennifer whimpers out “Keep fucking her, I want you to make her come” suddenly it’s not difficult at all. Any twinge or complaint from your body is just a distraction, and not much of a distraction, not at all compared to Rhea stretching out underneath you, and Jennifer underneath her.

With a lopsided lurch you realise that Jennifer’s wiggled herself around slightly, so that she can dry-hump the side of Rhea’s torso, you have mixed feelings about this but most prominent is the shard of electricity it sends between your heart and your dick. You drive yourself into Rhea with renewed energy and she cries out “Ah!”, the pleasure catches in her throat.

Jennifer’s eyes have turned completely liquid, dazed with desire. You crane out towards her and try to kiss her, if not her mouth then at least her chest, even her arm, any token affection to try vainly to show her she’s the important one here. But Rhea is in front of her, and is so much stronger, your tongue ends up in her mouth again and the sting of her teeth in your flesh feels better than any lesser kiss possibly could.

Now you’re pressed up against her, completely in her grasp, your bodies shifting and fading into each other. You see nothing but part of her shoulder, and even that’s kind of a thrill. You grasp and grapple at her, using your hands as best you can tangled up together like this, and manage to wriggle one down to get at her clitoris – yes, there it is, she yelps again and wraps her arms around you tight you might pop.

It’s just your hips you can still manage to move to keep fucking her, just the way Jennifer asked, you break a sweat and Rhea must feel your heart beating out of your chest, but you keep going, to stop now would take a minor miracle. You brush her clitoris again, not even managing to work it, only there next to it, but it’s enough, she opens her mouth and lets it all out in one low moan, the tension goes from all the stiff muscles of her torso – and she crosses her legs behind you in a last-ditch effort to bring you even closer. Barely able to move it breaks something in your mind and you come again, it’s not the explosion of the first time, it’s a relief to be done, you melt into a puddle on top of her.

Rhea gives you a shy peck on the cheek. “I want to do this forever,” she whispers, the flush in her cheeks obvious even too close. “I never want this to stop.” Then there’s some whimpering, and you realise the orgasm has short-circuited your mind to the point you forgot all about Jennifer.

You get up off Rhea, so she can get up off Jennifer, and you both help your girlfriend to her feet. She staggers, the look on her face could be one of distress, you open your arms and she halfway falls into them, then she says “Please touch me, I’m so fucking horny after that.” You glance at Rhea, immediately concerned you might go too far, but Rhea just smiles and inclines her head.

So you bring a hand down, the way you did with Rhea, to get at her softest parts – Jennifer rides your finger weightlessly for mere moments and in that time completely soaks it before she wails out a noise that really could be one of distress, as if she hadn’t meant to climax. She collapses forward again, this time she nearly takes you down with her. And you shoot another look at Rhea, worried this was all some test, but her look of delight is broader than ever, smug even, all you can see is the black jags of her makeup.

“Now let’s tuck her in,” she adds.

As you lie spooned in bed, Jennifer in your arms with her hair in your face, Rhea’s breath on the back of your neck, and entirely too hot, you wonder about the consequences of all this – what this means for your relationship, when the other shoe will drop. But the feel of Rhea’s hand on your belly, gentle, reassuring, just there, helps lighten the load. Very quietly, you lean forward a little and ask “Are you really okay with this?”

“Mm-hm,” mumbles Jennifer, with such enthusiasm you believe her instantly.

“Fuck yeah,” replies Rhea, and touches your neck with her lips.

#rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #rpf #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea ripley smut

[fuck-customers]

I work in housekeeping, and the supervisors there are like. fucking horrible. We have the manager, who does fuck all to deal with the supervisor drama, and then we have 3 supervisors,

Supervisor J is lovely, I love her, she's the greatest manager type I've ever had (not the highest compliment when you know I've only worked two jobs but still) and she is amazing at trying to solve our issues and make this job as smooth as possible for everyone.

Supervisor T is iffy, but that's mostly just because of her connection to Supervisor D, we all feel she'll report anything we say back to D, so we can't talk to T.

Supervisor D is a fucking problem. She's gotten multiple people fired because she just fucking lies about them (me almost being one of those people), she has these stupid little cliques, she tries to get everyone against J, because she thinks J is vying for the Manager job, when J literally just wants us to be able to do our job efficiently, she sit in the office doing Fuck All all fucking day, and she just doesn't make any of us not in her little clique feel like this job is a safe/healthy work environment. (it's not safe for other reasons (namely the borderline p*do on staff which I'll probably complain about in a different ask) but D here is the MAIN reason why)

She got one of our runners fired for 'not doing his job because she never saw him' when she takes the stairs and he has to take the elevator, and the runner job is like, the easiest job to miss and yet the hardest to fucking fill with competent people, but ohhh nooo she never saw him do his job, despite the fact that the job WAS GETTING DONE WHEN HE WAS HERE but no, she never saw him in the halls. :/

D CONSTANTLY rushes us in cleaning the rooms when we have like, three rooms (the normal amount is 5 rooms, each takes around an hour-ish depending on how bad) because she wants to leave, but newsflash old woman I NEED HOURS TO MAKE MONEY TO SURVIVE, just because YOUUUU don't pay rent doesn't mean WE don't.

like an example of that is when she cleaned someone's room for them (for some reason, we weren't even staying late at ALL) then sent them to help me, and I had one room left, so I told them to go stock my room with like, the linen and concessions and shit, and then D got fucking mad at me for not telling her to clean the room ?? First off, that's your fucking job to do, tell her to clean the room, you left it up to me, so i told her to what's best to actually HELP me, second off, you TOOK ONE OF HER ROOMS TO CLEAN ??? WHY NOT JUST LET HER HAVE HER ROOM ????? IF SHE NEEDS TO CLEAN ONE ???

she almost got ME fired, because she said, and i fuckign quote '[op] gets out at the same time as everyone else on purpose so he doesn't have to help others in their rooms]' . fucking WHAT ??

first off, how would you even figure something like that out ? second off, literally no one i asked feels that way (probably except her), and THIRD OFF, NO I FUCKING DON'T ?? I HELP PEOPLE ALL THE TIME ?? THE PEOPLE THAT NEED HELP !! just because I'm not gonna help fucking M over there (who is another problem) doesn't mean I'm not helping. M always has so many rooms, because D TAKES HER OUT TO LUNCH AND LETS HER DRINK ON THE FUCKING CLOCK !! AND THEN LETS HER LEAVE WHEN SHE FEELS SICK FROM BEING DRUNK !! SO WE END UP WITH HER ROOMS ANYWAYS !!!

At the time of this ask, the younger girls (because of course its the girls from 18-21 that are having problems with this old hag :/) and supervisor J are having a meeting with the Manager, that, tbh, if it doesn't fucking go well, I'm walking out. it's gotten that fucking bad.

oh, and :) the manager is part of HR, and we don't even feel like we can go to here about afformentioned borderline p*do :) because she does JACK FUCKING ALL about anything :)

i hate it here. I'm already quitting when I get my W2, but if this meeting tomorrow doesn't go well (or if supervisor D is there at all, as we've requester her fucking NOT be there so we feel safe talking) i'm walking the fuck out of that building tomorrow. What are they gonna do ? fire me ? i'm already walking out girlfriend, and I have a shoe in job for when I leave ANYWAYS ! good luck ! i'll be back for my W2 and my last paycheck when it's there ! i'm sick and tired of y'alls bullshit !!!

Posted by admin Rodney.

[weministertomonsters]

Orc (Oak) x human female reader ~ Part 1

If you enjoy this story, please re-blog it if you're able! It helps a lot. <3

~ ~ ~

The air bites at your skin and you can see each puffing white cloud of your breath as you struggle to keep your numb fingers curled around the handles of the basket of wood chips. The first thing you hear is the chatter of talking women and second, the crack of Ms. Markely's cane.

"Faster!" Ms. Markely snaps, and someone howls in pain.

"Oh, Ms. Markely, do have some pity on her," one of the women tuts. "She's just a girl."

"She's twelve, old enough to know that if she doesn't help fill her family quota, it will be her plate going empty," Ms. Markely sneers back. "The sooner you're done, girl, the sooner you can leave, so continue carding that wool. I don't want to see a single tangle when you're through."

Ms. Markely turns her ungainly body, rustling in her crisp skirt, and spots you.

"Come now, stoke the fire. We're all freezing," she commands.

You do as she asks, glad to have a reason to crouch beside the warm fireplace. You can't linger for long, however, and as soon as you're done you move over to the corner where the young girl crouches, untangling sheep's wool. Her face is dirty and smudged where fresh tears have run. A scruffy kitten lies sleeping on her lap. She smiles when you take a stool to sit on and begin to help her.

"My name is Ann, what's yours?" She asks.

You tell her your name and inquire about the kitten. "Is she yours?"

"Not really but she's a stray so Momma said I could keep her."

You make small talk for a while but soon fall into companionable silence. You daydream about the things you would rather do. Sleep, for one. And make clothes for people as a seamstress instead of being confined to carding wool, a job that has no room for creativity and design.

Everyone has been carding and spinning wool since morning, and the cold makes backs ache and fingers protest even more than usual but no one complains. For many, this is the only way they can ensure food on their tables and grain in their bins during the long winter months.

"How much longer?" Ann whispers, scratching at her hair.

You shrug a shoulder and wince at the throbbing pain that you're reminded of. You had gone out to chop wood in the shed earlier and since you had wanted a substantial amount, you were probably swinging that heavy axe for longer than you should have.

With this weather, it's hard to know the time, as the dusky light filtering through the dirty windows could either mean early morning, late evening, or anything in between. At the speed at which you're forced to work, a single hour feels like so much more.

"Ms. Markley, when will we go for a break?" Ann asks, "I need to pee."

"When you've darned that basket of clothes," Ms. Markely says, pointing.

In a place like this, there's always extra work to do. Ann groans loudly and scrambles out of the way of Ms. Markely's swiping cane.

"Don't let me catch you slacking off or you'll stay an extra hour," the woman warns sternly.

No one can complain. More than half of the young women are unmarried, meaning they have no one to rely on. Others are apprentices for various jobs that have nothing to do in the winter, so the wealthy families in the town offer food and board and a small stipend in exchange for their labor. 

Ms. Markely is in charge of everything, so no one dares stand against her. Not even if you needed to piss, like poor Ann. Outside, the clop of horse hooves draws nearer and Ms. Markely peers outside, smoothing her stiffly starched collar.

"The delivery man is here for the wool," she says. "You there, go and help load the bags out."

She's looking at you over her beak-like nose. You've been living with her for over two months and she still can't recall your name. You stand quickly, wincing as your knees protest. The damn cold. It's bearable though because you get to see Oak, so you hurry out before Ms. Markely changes her mind.

You've been friends with Oak for a while now, ever since the Summer Festival when you drank too much mead and made a fool out of yourself dancing on a table and he was daft enough to call the incident a cute mishap.

"Hurry!" Ms. Marekly snaps unmercifully. "The horse will need to eat before its rounds as well s you might as well feed it while you're out there. Can't expect that man to do everything."

"Yes, Ms. Markely." You sigh and dip into a small curtsy before stepping outside, bracing yourself for the cold, and yet you're still unprepared for how brutally cold it is.

The sunlight reflecting on the snow hurts your eyes and you blink until they adjust. Oak comes twice a week to take the spun wool to the warehouse, where it is then shipped off to fairer lands where the woolen clothes are worn for fashion more than anything, or so you've heard.

Oak is also a farmer and even owns a plot of land. That alone makes him considerably well-off but it has got to be a lot of work to manage a farm, although you haven't asked him about it because you don't want to seem nosy.

You pause for a moment to watch him haul bales of hay out of the cart he brought along for the horse. Ms. Markely pays for that hay, which is fed to the horse Oak takes to the warehouse. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, revealing inky tribal tattoos, which makes you wonder how he isn't freezing.

His ears are studded with bronze rings and his shiny hair- even longer than yours, is loose around his neck to retain body warmth. He's an orc but that never made him anything less in your eyes; in your opinion, he's more handsome than most of the men you know. He looks up and catches you staring and calls out your name, beckoning you over. You blush and hurry forward.

"Hey. Let me help you with those," you murmur, grabbing the rough rope looped around a hay bale.

"They're almost half your size, doll, and rather heavy. Don't worry about it," he says, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

He knows you're going to insist on helping anyway. You work in tandem to take them into the shed, which doubles as a storeroom. He carries two at a time and could probably carry more if he had extra hands. You half-carry and half-drag two bales in, proud of your small accomplishment.

Once the last of the hay has been brought in and the horse is fed, an awkward pause comes between you as you stand in the shed. It's nearly impossible not to look at him. You clasp your hands together and blow on them, rubbing to try and wake your fingers up.

"Let me," Oak says, reaching out to take your hands between his.

His body runs hot and his palms instantly warm your hands. Idly, you think about what a cozy bedmate he would make. You wouldn't need to layer several dresses on to stay warm. You could just snuggle up against his big body.

His thumbs stroke over the backs of your newly awakened hands and you shiver. The veins running up his arms give you butterflies in your stomach. Oak is strong enough to yank young trees up by their roots and yet gentle enough to hold a newborn kitten with tender care. It makes you wonder how his touch would feel on you.

He calls your name and you jerk your gaze up to his face. Life up in the icy north is rough on everyone but the crow's feet that appear when he smiles have a sort of elegance that makes it impossible to guess his age accurately. His orcish smile and boyish gaze don't help either.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" You stammer.

"I said, you look rather thin and pale. Have you been eating enough?"

You bite your lip and look down. "My work keeps me busy," you murmur. "I'm often too exhausted to eat when I get home."

"That's no good," he murmurs. "You know, I packed breakfast today. I still have some of it left over."

"Oh no, please don't bother," you stammer and he shakes his head, looming above you with a concerned frown.

"I do bother, doll. I want you healthy and happy, and you're neither right now."

You try to explain, but he's already striding out of the woodshed, ducking to avoid hitting his head on the door frame.

You wait, nervously imagining how mad Ms. Markely would be when she realizes you haven't returned yet and the ideas she'll get in her head about what took you so long... With any luck, she'll be too busy scolding someone to notice your absence. Oak enters the shed again, holding out a parcel of brown paper.

"It's not much but it's better than nothing," he says, all smiles again.

"Oh, I can't take your food," you say, but he's already unwrapping the package.

There are thick pieces of meat and cheese in there, along with a raisin bun. It's been weeks since you had anything other than bread and lukewarm soup. You bite your lip as the smell wafts over you.

"I know you are all working hard, but that woman seems to go harder on you than the rest as if she hates you. I can't help but worry," he says. "Don't let her walk all over you, okay?"

He breaks off a piece of the bun and holds it up to your mouth. Your embarrassment almost gets the better of you but you're very hungry, so you give in and let him feed you. Even though the bun is a little stale, it's the best thing you've ever eaten. The meat and cheese taste even better, deliciously pungent and salty.

When he has given you the last piece of meat, he's about to withdraw his hand when you grab it and lick the sugar from the raisin bun off his fingers, stomach satisfied and rumbling slightly with the richness of the food.

"I like your food," you mumble.

"And do you know what effect that has on me?" He says, his voice low and soft and upset. "You can't just go around licking my fingers, doll. I've only got so much self-control."

You drop his hand and back away sheepishly. "I... Sorry. That wasn't intentional."

"I'm hardly angry." His hand remains at his side and you wish he'd wipe it off.

Anything to burst the bubble of tension that has appeared between you. You still can't believe you licked his fingers. You stare at each other for a moment, at loss for words. He isn't even a little put off by your actions and some hidden part of you is curious about what will happen if you do it again.

"Where is that girl?" Ms. Markely suddenly shouts somewhere outside, bringing both of you back into the present with a bang. Oak draws back, tugging on his ear.

"I..." He clears his throat. "I have to go. Will I see you next week?"

You nod, licking your lips where the flavor still lingers. His gaze falls to them and his jaw clenches.

"I guess I'll see you then," he says. "Now take this and buy yourself something proper to eat for dinner."

He presses a couple of coins into your hand and ducks through the door, giving you no time to give it back. Your heart soars with joy and so much more as you slip it into your pocket and hurry out of the shed. Oak is hitching up the horse and you wave before you duck inside. Luckily for you, Ms. Markely has found a new target, waving her cane around and yelling about how to properly card and spin wool. You sense some of the women eyeing you with knowing suspicion but that's a concern for later.

For now, you sit and pick a new basket of wool to card, your stomach filled and heart warm.

#exophilia #terato #monster boyfriend #monster x reader #x reader #monster x human #monster romance #monster lover

[ms-katonic-of-tamriel]

The Man Called Uncle

Uncle Cicero as the Herald of Andraste. AU where Justinia brings him along to the Conclave... and he's the one who picks up the orb using telekinesis. The orb's power is already reversing Tranquillity, and Uncle gets a good look at the mysterious orb that's healing him, and starts going a little Gollum over it.

"Sacrifice the Divine if you want, Nine know I'm not putting myself out for the Chantry after what they did. I'm keeping this. Now, I'm no wizard but how does this work. Like this?"

Manages to trigger the explosion, but with a twist. No Anchor in his hand as he wasn't physically holding it... but the power activates his dormant dragon blood, and a Dragonborn can take the power like a dragon's soul. So here he is, in the Fade, newly Dragonborn, Tranquillity broken, and the Anchor's power has done two other noteworthy things: rejuvenate him physically and give him knowledge of the Shouts to open and close the Fade. And it's him they find sitting out in the Temple ruins, having just Shouted the Fade shut.

Leliana was not OK with him being here anyway. She was not coping with having him around, not OK with him being there every time she wanted to talk to Justinia, and then she saw the explosion and thought he'd died and felt horrible... and now he's prime suspect in the Fade explosion. Thankfully, no one else knows he's her father. He does though, and he's not Tranquil anymore and he's staring at her and...

Thankfully he's better able to control himself against Cassandra and snaps at her that they'd better not kill him, he's the only one who can seal Fade rifts. Which they saw him do, and so Cassandra ends up escorting him to the summit. Much against Leliana's wishes because he's an old man!

More suspicion because how are you suddenly so healthy, Cesaire.

"Perhaps Andraste healed me when she handed me out of the Fade and taught me the words to close Rifts."

Cassandra would have hit him if Leliana hadn't been right there. As it is, she's stuck with the mouthy little gobshite all the way up the Temple path. These two will never get on.

Solas can tell, just tell, he's absorbed the Anchor somehow. He just doesn't know how, and Cesaire's telling no one. So he pretends friendship and tries to get closer to find out, but unfortunately for him the one-time finest bard in Orlais can tell he's asking too many questions. Cue a lot of verbal fencing around each other, several dream sequences in which they visit each other, and much suspicion on both sides as they try to figure the other out. Cesaire's near certain Solas knows what was behind all this.

(If a Tamriel link is required, a certain other Dragonborn who can dream-walk might start sliding into both Solas and Cesaire's dreams. Whether it's the one from Cicero Dragonborn or Prodigal Dragonborn is unknown, but either might work rather well. We can assume Those Across The Sea are active and faithfully sending details on all this to the Ruby Throne which is Definitely Taking An Interest.)

Cesaire actually does remember what happened in the explosion, because the worst had already happened to him and he just plain wasn't scared, just hyped on adrenaline the whole time. Is he telling anyone? Hell no. (Leliana doesn't need to know about the abuse he might have screamed at Justinia in the Fade, or the stabbing threats.) Does this mean we can skip the Fade sequence in Here Lies The Abyss? Hell yes.

Varric gets on with him like a house on fire, as expected. They do actually have stuff to do other than write musicals, but the friendship is still there. Cesaire is extremely fond of the dwarf who didn't want to be there either. Varric's fascinated by the cheerful rogue who reminds him of Hawke. They both bond over complaining about Cassandra.

Cullen is far too easy for Cesaire to drive up the wall, and he does. Repeatedly. This will change once Cesaire's officially Inquisitor - Cesaire isn't about to make his life a misery once Cullen is officially his subordinate. He has some principles... and is surprisingly understanding about the lyrium addiction.

Josephine! Cesaire adores her. Cesaire is the epitome of charming gentleman from day one and flirts constantly. They bond over a shared hatred of the cold and taste for the finer things in life, and meet regularly to gossip about the Orlesian nobility. Leliana is horrified, needless to say.

Sera? Recruited immediately, Cesaire thinks she's hilarious. Vivienne... he's a bit suspicious of but recruits her anyway despite himself. They do actually start to get on. Shared sense of humour, it turns out, plus they're both skilled at the Game. Mutual respect does develop.

Blackwall - something is off there, but he doesn't suspect the truth about him until it happens and is livid he got blindsided by it. Despite that, they were friends once. Despite that, Blackwall gets liberated. Despite that, they end up still friends afterwards. Blackwall figures expecting the most disreputable rogue in Orlais to be a paragon of virtue and upholder of the law was too much.

Iron Bull - well, of course he's a spy. Of course! And he just... that is not how it works, Iron Bull. You're not meant to tell the organisation you're spying on that you're a spy. Sighs and agrees to the deal then has to face Leliana who... thinks it's a good idea and something they can use to maybe feed information back to the Qun. Cue bonding experience. As for Bull, he's very entertaining to have around, but Cesaire is always watching, watching, watching for the dumb merc mask to slip. (He tells Bull to save the Chargers. He saw enough to realise the whole thing was a setup, and decides he's seen enough of the Qun to reach a conclusion. It's in keeping of the general theme of the story that personal connections trump abstract principles.)

Dorian - DORIAN! Kindred spirit right there. If Cesaire wasn't straight, he'd have kissed him, as it is, Dorian is his son now. Witty comments all over the place, elaborate roasting before sharing a laugh over their purloined liqueurs, these two are having a fine old time.

Cole - Cole knows Too Much. Suspicion! All the same, he's young, sad-eyed, alone in the world, in need of guidance... Cesaire doesn't exactly trust him but doesn't dislike him either.

Sides with the mages. Offers them full allyship, flirts with Fiona even. She's not having it. He actually respects her more for that.

Cure for Tranquillity - he's not letting that one go. Pieces it together from what Cassandra's willing to share, discusses it with Dorian and reluctantly Solas, starts curing a few Tranquil in Skyhold. Mixed results, but overall they're ride or die for the Black Rose after and all hate the Chantry.

High Dragons - help, why do the High Dragons all seem to like him. One of them licked him. Do they think he's a baby dragon or something?

Halamshiral - Someone is having a Great Time! No, don't bother with secrecy, just have yourself announced as the Black Rose, get everyone's attention immediately, what do you mean now the entire ball wants to talk to me. Goodness, is that the Dowager, I haven't seen you for years, madame! How this goes is anyone's guess, but he always had a soft spot for elves, so perhaps he does go with his daughter's idea. Court approval is through the roof within five minutes of arriving, so basically he can do whatever he wants.

Cassandra's max disapproval scene might actually activate at the ball.

Of course, the real meat here is Cesaire and Leliana's relationship as father and daughter try to come to an understanding. It's not easy but he does love her. He doesn't stop trying. They do have conversations, both about spywork, the Game, Orlais past and present, Leliana's mother... and Leliana's pet nugs. Cesaire loves nugs, they're so stupid with their little hands and stupid little faces. Leliana promptly gets some of hers sent to Skyhold and gives him a pet one. She wasn't expecting to see the Black Rose cry over a nug, but he adores it.

The Unhardening of Leliana has been going on as a Thing all story, but it comes to a head at the Chantry, where we get a rerun of AoD and Cesaire telling her not to turn into him... and her hugging him and telling him a man who loves nugs cannot be all bad. Also he has been making the world a better place all this time, no?

"I have been trolling the Chantry out of spite. It is NOT the same thing!"

Leliana smiles and kisses him on the cheek. She tells him it needed it. He does end up supporting her for Divine, but only after a long discussion about her plans and does she really want this. Otherwise he'd have supported Vivienne because it would be funny.

If we go the Tamriel inclusive angle, Miraak may well turn up in person... or may just remain acting via dreams instead, but either way he'll figure out fairly quickly the link to Cicero the Younger, and an uncle-nephew reunion might happen too.

After it's all over, the Slayer of Corypheus who is also the Divine's beloved father could go anywhere he wants, but it's probably retirement to Antiva for him with Josephine. The Montilyets never in their wildest dreams expected the Divine's father to turn up and ask for their daughter's hand in marriage but they can hardly say he's not got standing. Also their financial status changes overnight what with half of Thedas wanting to curry favour.

Cesaire LaRose lives to nearly 120 years old and dies surrounded by Montilyet children and grandchildren. Just long enough for the elderly Divine Victoria to name the next age the Nug Age.

[thereader-radhika]

3- DEBT OF THE RED RICE

Parts 1, 2

Virudhukkalvetti

Ravidasan was relieved only when he saw some of his acquaintances among the new recruits. They too were surprised when they saw him. He didn't know whether it was their presence or the fact that they all are as clueless as him that soothed his anxiety. Their thalapathi, Menandros, really enjoyed their confusion and amazement.

"My boys, life is full of surprises. I was born in a place called Athenai. I no longer remember what the air smells like or sky looks like in my native. Similarly, we all go where this life takes us."

He peered into their eyes intently. "Now you are a group of 200 people. This is your last chance. If you just leave now, we will forget each other. But if you try to leave after joining us, you and your families will be annihilated. I will be back in an hour." Menandros himself opened the windows and doors of the hall they were seated in and left.

That one hour felt like one hundred years. If he leaves this place, he can easily get a job as a soldier, administrator or a priest in any part of this vast  bharatavarsham. What if this is his destiny? When a yavanan works so loyally for Veera Pandyan, is it right that a pandyan like himself is thinking like this? He looked around and saw that everyone is engaged in thoughts like him.

One hour must have been up as someone blew conchshells and closed the openings of the hall, except one. Menandros gave instructions to his attendants to go there or do this. They all rose up and bowed down as Veera Pandyan and Jatilavarman entered the hall. Veera Pandyan gestured them to sit down as he sat on a raised platform. Jatilan sat near Ravidasan.

The priests chanted prayers to Kotravai and some men danced with ecstasy. A woman placed a big banana leaf before him and served blood red rice on it. The king ate some of the rice and made a ball out of a handful of rice. Menandros gestured to Jatilan to go to his father. Tears were flowing from Veera Pandyan's eyes as he fed the rice ball to the young prince. Then one by one, he fed the rice to the old guards including Menandros. Ravidasan was the first one from the new batch to be fed. Though it was just one ball of rice, he felt energetic like he had a full feast.

°°°°°°°°°° Madurai

Ravidasan's heart beat rapidly as he approached his home. He didn't dare to imagine the reaction of his poor widowed mother. The mother and the motherland are both exalted than heaven. This is the right thing. He saw amma spreading chillies and dried turmeric on a mat. She too must have seen him as she was telling someone about his arrival. Looks like annan is home. Good.

"Ravi, it's been so long. You look so tired". Annan hugged him tightly. Anni complained to amma that she hasn't prepared anything special as she served the rice. He secretly mixed the mud he kept at hand in the rice.

"Everyone, please come here. I need to tell you something. You all should hear this with equanimity". He touched everyone's feet, placed his hands on his eyes and hardened his heart. He took out the pouch of gold coins and placed it at the feet of his mother.

"Here, I am submitting the money for your upkeep in my absence. I bear the debt of the red rice to our Emperor. Bless me and send me away".

"What have you done, Ravi?", Soman annan was babbling incoherently like a mad-man. Anni requested him not to shout but Amma just stared into the void with tearful eyes. Soman held Amma as if he feared that she is going to faint. He kept on ranting about Ravidasan's foolishness. What and who is he fighting for? Couldn't he have thought about their old mother? Amma wiped her tears and stood straight.

"Stop. Why did I give birth to sons if it isn't for our Emperor? Light an aarati, Kokile."

She placed her hands on Ravidasan's head and shivered like a possessed woman.

"May the swords raised against them stop on you. May the fire approaching them consume you. May the poison meant for them kill you. May the arrows aimed at them pierce you. May you be the fortress, weapon and shield of our Emperor. Go forth, kill and die for him". She circulated the aarti plate around his head and gave the plate to her daughter in law who repeated her actions and took the plate inside. She stared at him with an intense expression. "Did you mix dirt in the rice you ate from here?"

"Yes."

"I would have broken your skull if you hadn't. You aren't my son or his brother anymore. You belong to the emperor and the empire. If I had known this, I would have washed these feet and welcomed you. I am so glad and proud".

Soman occasionally opened his mouth to ask some things but he couldn't attend vocalise anything. Ravidasan understood that he is trying to ask about their plans. Unfortunately that can't be shared with others, not even his mother's other son.

"Soman anne, Kokila akka, I can tell you only one thing. Take good care of this Amma".

"I gave birth to him, yet I am not crying. Why are you men crying as if I died? Kokila, ask your husband and brother-in-law to stop this drama".

Helpless Kolika didn't know whether to snap at her mother-in-law, scold the brother-in-law or console her husband. Ravidasan touched their feet again and left their home without any tarrying further.  The whole Pandya country is his home and mother. His brothers are the people who partook in the debt of the red rice with him. He is a walking sacrifice.

@willkatfanfromasia @celestesinsight @harinishivaa @favcolourvibgior @sampigehoovu @whippersnappersbookworm @sakhiiii @sambaridli

Part 4, 5, 6, 7, 8

#ponniyin selvan #ponniyin selvan 2 #kollywood #chola dynasty #Veera Pandyan #ravidasan

[annionebutme]

"This is it." Harry announced as the popped back to existance and his stomach stopped churning.

The cat huffed into his ear dismissively.

"What? Alright it's small, who cares? The garden part is big. You'll like it." He was quite proud of the garden, having done most of it himself. It was full of quiet little places to sit and relax, watch the sky. Spring had just started and much of the garden was now in bloom with snowdrops, hellebores, and libertia. The hedges around it were high enough that he could no longer see into his neighbour's back yard which seemed to be used as a dump more than anything.

"Mreow." The cat prompted, clearly done with the outside world.

"Right then, we'll go inside."Harry opened the door wide, careful not to bump the cat on the doorframe. "I'm not much of an interior person." He said, somewhat sheepish even if cat's were unlikely to complain the same way Ginny had. "I got some stuff for you though. I've got it in the sitting room 'cause I thought maybe you'd be more comfortable there than in my room." He moved past the entryway to the main room of the cottage, which was the kitchen, dining area, and sitting room, kneeling down in the corner. "You've got a bed here nice and close to the fire. A water dish and a food bowl. Close so you don't have to move far while you're recovering. I've got lots of cat snacks and food. Your bathroom is over in the other corner."

The cat jumped down gingerly from his shoulder. To sniff the space. He looked cranky about the food bowl he must be hungry. Harry stepped over to the pantry and pulled out a selection of cans, then placed each one to carefully face the cat. "I got a bunch of flavours so just pick what you like."

"MeerrrrOoow!" the cat hissed at him for. Harry just picked one for him at random. The cat didn't even sniff at it. Ah well. He'd eat when he was hungry enough.

Harry grabbed a pan for his own dinner. Salmon that he'd caught himself in the nearby river and scaled, gutted and filleted yesterday. The recipe was simple enough: butter and whatever herbs were in his garden. Today it was chives, celery leaf, and parsley. Mostly because it was left over from the other fillet yesterday. He added thinky sliced potato the the pan for the same reason. When he turned around he saw the cat had sat itself at the small dining table and was watching him intently. Harry put his meal down and turned to get his cutlery. When he turned back the cat had already gotten to his dinner. "What the fuck?" He yelled, yanking the plate away protectively. "You have your own fucking dinner! Go eat that!" His dinner was gone, either badly contaminated or mostly eaten. He'd go hungry. He'd... he'd breathe. He gave himself a moment to adjust, to remember that he had instant noodles and canned soup in the pantry, and crackers and biscuits and food growing in the garden. Broccoli and sprouts and cabbage. He looked at his dinner, just a few little bites gone from one side. There would be enough for both of them. "Sorry." He said to the cat, who was looking quite angry. "I get protective over food. It's from when I was a kid. I've been working on it. Here." He grabbed a second plate and cut off the small portion of salmon that had been contaminated and placed the dish in the cat's corner. "Here. You should get to eat what you want too."

The cat moved to sit in the chair opposite Harry.

Harry moved the plate in front of the cat and they both ate happily. After dinner he threw out the cans and the food dish. They'd go food shopping tomorrow.

Part 3, Part 4

#harrymort #harry potter #fanfic #fandom #voldemort #catboy monstermort