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dapper-zappa · 9 months

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His Conejita, Her Spider. | Miles Morales

Pairing: Miles Morales x Fem!Civilian!Reader

Summary: While you're hanging out in your boyfriend's place, a particular sketch in Miles's room intrigues you and then you get to know the meaning behind it.

Word count: ~1,5k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, cute Miles, Uncle Aaron death mention, Mama Rio interrupting some couple's time 😭

A/N: I love how the "Childish Gambino inspired Miles" thing has come full circle so don't mind Miles and Y/N talking abt him in the first part of the fic. If you find any mistranslated Spanish, please let me know abt it <3

Today’s one of those days where Miles invited you to his family’s place because hanging out with his girl is simply one of his favorite things to do, other than drawing various kinds of doodles in his sketchbook. While the two of you don’t have any homework for now, there’s nothing better than to spend the time together… right? Miles’s family also grew a lot on you to the point you almost see his mom Rio as an aunt figure and his dad Jeff as an uncle figure.

“Hi… Mr. and Mrs. Morales. I’m Y/N L/N, Miles’s classmate.” you greeted shyly.

Rio let out a warm chuckle. “Oh mija, no need to be shy around me. Feel free to call me Mrs. Morales or Tía Morales, I’m fine with both though so you’re welcome.” (dear)

“You must be Miles’s new girlfriend!” Jeff joined. “Kinda wish his uncle Aaron is still here because he’d love to see his little nephew together with a girl he pulled up, though.” he whispered into your ear, much to Miles’s annoyance.

“Dad!”

The tunes from various songs in Miles’s playlist flowed through the earbud you shared with him in your ear. One of his hands linked with yours the entire time he talked about why he loved the artists featured in his playlist, and you couldn’t help but smile the entire time at your doe-eyed boyfriend passionately rambling about his favorite artists.

He’s an artsy boy who enjoyed drawing and making , but also in love with music and how it made the world feel more alive, according to him. And you loved him for that because while you’re not an artist yourself, listening to Miles’s rambles about his favorite artists and seeing the drawings he drew by himself made you appreciate the hard work between them more. Even the fact your boyfriend’s mostly self taught in art.

“So I’ve been thinking…” you mused, getting absorbed in the song currently playing from your earbud.

“Hmm? Told you that you’d like Childish Gambino.” Miles gently nudged your arm. “It’s obvious I love Sunflower by Post Malone at this point but dude’s discography is like, everything to me-“

“No no no no, it’s just that for some silly reason, whenever I look at his face… he kinda reminds me of your uncle from the photos here. I can’t exactly describe why but maybe it’s because of his entire vibe? Like, both him and your uncle have this sort of warm, approachable chill vibe? ” you giggled, trying your best to dismiss how silly your brain was being right now. “I honestly don’t know.”

He thought about what you had just said about one of his favorite artists and his uncle for a brief moment, nodding once he found himself agreeing with it.

“You know what, you’re right.” he flashed you a dopey grin. “Actually my uncle introduced me to Childish Gambino first.”

“Wait, what? Miles, are you serious?”

“Cielo, I’m serious.” he immediately paused the music from his phone. “So it all started with that one time I heard ‘Me and Your Mama’ blaring in my uncle Aaron’s place, then when he told me about the song’s title thanks to him noticing me jamming myself to it, he also said that the song reminded me of my dad falling in love with my mom. While he just thinks Childish Gambino is neat, for me his music means a lot because I was really close with my uncle and he always comes up in my mind whenever I listen to one of his songs.”

“That explains why he pops up quite a lot in your playlist.” you said. “I like that. You’ve got a great taste.”

Miles shyly scratched the back of his neck. “You do? Well thanks, I mean- yours isn’t so bad either.”

The more you hung out in Miles’s place, the more you loved his place and his family because of how close you were now with him and his parents. Though you just noticed a particular object displayed on his desk began to arouse the curiosity within when your head turned to face the desk he often used as both his little art studio and his study desk.

It was a drawing of you with for some reason, rabbit ears on top of your head smiling gleefully, along with sunflowers surrounding your smiling face. It was a really beautiful artwork, from what you’ve seen. Out of the many impressive works made by your boyfriend, it’s definitely your new favorite as of now.

“Why, thank you!” you beamed, though your demeanor suddenly shifted into a nervous one as your eyes briefly glanced at his desk. “But if you don't mind… Can I look at the little drawing on your desk?” hesitatingly, you pointed at the artwork on his desk but Miles cut you off before you could say anything else.

His eyes widened at the mention of the piece of artwork you were referring to. “Y-you sure you wanna look at it?” he stammered, standing up from the bed.

“Yes.”

Walking towards his desk, he picked up the paper before sitting back on the bed and handing it to you.

“I hope you’ll like this one.”

You took the paper from his hands and now focused yourself on the drawing depicted on the paper. You couldn’t believe your eyes as you finally got to see it right in front of your eyes. From the precise ink strokes in the sketch that made up your face’s exact likeness, how the drawing pops from the vibrant yellow, orange, and pink used in it, and to the silly little addition he chose to add this time in the form of bunny ears, you couldn’t help but love the drawing (and Miles himself) more than before.

“You like it, cielo?” His question made you snap out of your trance.

“This is way more than beautiful, babe!” you squealed, immediately wrapping your arms around him. “I can’t describe how perfect this drawing is and the sunflowers are the best addition because they look so bright and like, everything about this is so amazing.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” he replied.

By this point, both of your faces were beaming with happiness. You from being impressed by your boyfriend’s art skills, and Miles, from the fact you loved this doodle of you that he had drawn. Keeping your arms placed on his shoulders, you slightly pulled away from the embrace in order to face him while his hands reached for your waist.

“But one question, Miles.” you retrieved the paper again and shoved it directly in front of his face. “Why the bunny ears? It’s not like I hate them or anything, I just wanna know why.” smirking, you waved the drawing to tease him until he revealed the answer..

He playfully shoved the paper away and gave you the biggest and proudest shit eating grin you’ve ever seen as he pulled you closer by the waist, before whispering in your ear.

“Because you’re my cute little bunny rabbit. That’s why I often call you ‘conejita’, because it literally means ‘bunny’ and the sunflowers represent how much I love you and how happy you make me.”

Before you could say anything, you were interrupted by Rio clearing her throat. You immediately scrambled away from Miles and caught the sight of her holding 2 mugs of steaming hot chocolate standing in front of his bedroom door.

“Just wanna say that I made some hot chocolate, kids!” Rio chimed in as she set down the mugs on Miles’s desk. “And my oh my, Miles, looks like you and Y/N were having some serious love conversations right now from the looks of it.” she teased, putting her hands on her hips.

“Mamá, ¿por qué no llamaste a la puerta?” Miles whined. (Mom, why didn’t you knock the door?)

“Dios mío, Miles, ¿no te diste cuenta de que dejaste la puerta abierta?” (My god, Miles, didn't you notice that you left the door open?)

“I’m sorry, mamá, I forgot to close the door so I didn’t notice you were coming.”

“Está bien, mijo. Just make sure next time you don’t do it again, okay?” Rio gently patted Miles’s shoulder before she headed to leave her son’s room, only for her to pop her head back in, much to his annoyance. (It’s okay, dear.)

“What again, mom?”

“I love you both!” she winked, closing the door and truly leaving from the room this time.

Leaving the tiny awkward moment you two just had because of your boyfriend’s mom barging in, you both continued your previous activities of just chatting with each other while listening to each other’s playlist. It’s really sweet to know that the symbolism Miles put in the drawing of you with bunny ears meant wonders to him thanks to his adoration for you. Now you get why movies and artworks tend to be careful with the colors or details depicted there, because symbolism were pretty much seemingly small things that actually mean a lot, like why Miles chose to draw you with bunny ears and sunflowers around you in the artwork.

You’re his bunny rabbit, and he’s your spider. How cute is that?

#miles morales x you #miles morales x reader #1610!miles x you #1610!miles x reader #atsv fic #atsv fanfic #atsv x reader #atsv x you #smokey writes #atsv #spider man atsv #spider man across the spider verse

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otonymous · 2 years

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Caught Between a Wall and a Hard Dick (Grayson) (DC Nightwing - NSFW) - Kinktober 2022

Description:

(First posted on Pa*t*reon (pls see link in pinned post)! - early access Sept 25/22)

Kinktober 2022 Prompt #1: STUCK IN A WALL (aka kabeshiri - yeah, I had to look this one up LOL)

Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language and mature themes - reader discretion is advised. Potential trigger warnings include: outdoor sex (in a sense lol), being stuck in a wall/"glory hole" type situation, some bits faintly wavering towards dub-con, mentions of masturbation, brief mention of edging

Word Count: ~3700 words (I promised myself I would keep these to 1500 words max. Didn't happen. Story of my life 😂)

Author's Note:

Hello lovelies!

Hope October is treating you well so far! 💕 Since we are dealing with more mature topics (Kinktober being the name of the game and all 🤣), please check out the warnings listed above! That being said, please know that this fic is absolutely ridiculous, and I laughed myself silly writing it. All in all, a good time was had. I hope you will have fun reading this one, my friends!

-XOXO, Otonny 🥰💕

PS: Please suspend your disbelief and just imagine for one hot second that triple woven kevlar can be ripped by the bare hands of one super horny superhero. Thanks! 🤩🤣

“Okay, on the count of three. One, two, three!“

“Ow…ow! Ouch! Stop! Nightwing, stop!”

“This isn’t working. Thank god Batman isn’t here to see this.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if Batman were here in the first place. He’d use the door, like a relatively normal person would, not try to show off by somersaulting through a hole in the wall. Stop laughing, Dick!“

“All right, I’m sorry,” Nightwing wheezes in between peals of laughter, broad shoulders shaking as he tries to catch his breath. “To be fair, no one told you to follow me through the hole. Also, ‘Batman’ and ‘normal’ have no business being in the same sentence together.”

“I thought I could make it. Clearly, I was wrong. Damn these birthing hips!”

You struggle some more, kevlar gloves gripping onto brick for purchase as you attempt to push, pull, do anything to free the lower half of your body from the wall it was currently stuck in, your ego now thoroughly bruised in light of your previous declaration that you could do anything Nightwing was capable of doing.

So when tonight’s training consisted of you keeping up with him as he raced across the rooftops of Blüdhaven, you followed close behind, fighting to keep your breath even and steady as you ran, swung, flipped and jumped, doing so well at keeping pace that even you were surprised until Nightwing jumped — no, glided — through a hole in a wall on the rooftop of an apartment building, his form so perfect, he made it look like child’s play, so easy that anyone could do it…

…or so you thought until you got stuck, reality hitting hard in the form of a vice-like squeeze about your hips by brick and cement that refused to budge.

And now, your ass was literally an easy target, vulnerable and exposed to the dark night beyond while the upper half of your body fumed at one costumed Dick Grayson, still snickering in the stairwell of the decrepit apartment complex.

“Okay, so I need a bit more training before I can come out patrolling with you. I get it. But can you please stop laughing and help pull me out before someone comes?! I don’t want to have to fabricate some weird sex fetish to explain why I’m wearing a mask and cape.”

“All right, just relax. I’m moving. Guess I’ll have to use the door this time.”

Dick draws out of sight and then you hear a click and thud, the heavy steel door echoing down the stairwell though Nightwing had done his best to let it close softly behind him.

You can sense his approach: the faint vibrations of his footsteps on the tarmac, the quiet rustle of limbs heard so faintly through cracks in the wall one might have missed it if one hadn’t been trained to listen.

You imagine Dick, his blue eyes behind the mask trained intently on your ass and you cannot keep a sudden rush of heat from rising to the surface of your skin, cheeks burning in a way you wanted to think had absolutely nothing to do with how close he was likely standing to you now, the sharp V of his hips level with your jutting rear end, scratching his chin as he contemplated how best to free you short of blowing up the wall and waking up everyone in a three-mile radius.

“Hey Nightwing, everything okay out there?”

You try to keep your voice as low as possible, but cringe at the way it still echoed in that stairwell, the acoustics absolutely perfect for a Black Canary performance.

“Ahem, uh, yeah. Just, uh, trying to figure out the best way to…dislodge you.”

“Not to seem ungrateful or demanding, but could you please hurry it up? Believe it or not, this position’s not exactly comfortable.”

And it was true. Just not necessarily in the way it would seem.

It wasn’t so much the physical strain of being bent over and stuck that presented a problem; Dick had trained you well enough in the gym and out in the field that maintaining this position for an extended period of time wasn’t an issue. Rather, it was the thought that his undivided attention was now focused on your ass; that he would have to put hands on your hips and thighs in order to free you from your prison. Even thinking about this set your nerves on edge, reminding you of the time Dick had accidentally touched your breast in the midst of practicing an aerial maneuver.

At that time, he gave no indication he had even noticed what had happened, occupied as he was on making sure he caught you before you had the chance to fall to your death on a pile of overflowing trash bins sixteen stories below.

But you, you had burned red beneath your mask, thanking god all the while for the fact that it was too dark for him to really see your face.

Although, you suppose he could with those infrared cameras he had built into his mask…

Never mind.

You weren’t going to think about that. And you definitely weren’t going to ruminate on the excitement you felt to have his hand on your breast. Or how large and manly they looked whenever he peeled his gloves off at the end of a long night of patrolling, right before reaching into the cupboard for a box of sugary kid’s cereal as a snack before collapsing into bed.

No, you were determined not to think of those twilight hours spent lying awake in the room next to his, wondering if Dick could somehow sense your heart pounding through paint and drywall as your fingers traipsed beneath the waistband of your pyjama bottoms to pretend your hand was his, rubbing insistent circles over the wetness that would inevitably pool between your legs every time you thought of him:

Dick Grayson. Nightwing. Your mentor and partner in the fight against crime.

NO.

Now is neither the time nor place, you scold yourself, steering your thoughts towards the more pressing matter of why you could no longer hear him on the other side of the wall.

“Um, Nightwing, is everything okay? Are you all right?!” you ask, panic starting to set in to think that somehow, unbeknownst to you and the upper half of your body, trouble had come calling for your partner and booty.

Though presumably, you would’ve heard something. The wall did have a hole large enough for a person to slip through (albeit not one with hips that Shakira would’ve been proud of). And Nightwing was more than capable of taking care of himself in any situation. So what, then, was the cause of the radio silence? The fact that you could no longer sense any movement behind you?

“You’ve torn your suit.”

“What?!”

Voice catching in your throat, your strangled reply echoes like a ghoul in the night. It wasn’t so much your outfit that you were concerned about — that triple woven kevlar could somehow rip without your knowledge. What you did find concerning however, was the way Nightwing was now behaving: strangely out-of-character.

“Right…” he continues, voice barely audible on the other side of the wall. “…here.”

GASP!

You clap a hand over your mouth, attempting to muffle the sound that escaped the moment you felt his touch: one long finger running along the seam that joined your skintight suit down the middle, sliding down the small of your back and over the curved crevice of your backside to close in on the heat between your legs.

You start to sweat, temperature suddenly spiking in reaction to the weird turn of events — as if the night could get any more bizarre. Holding your breath, you wait for Dick to crack a joke; say something lighthearted to ease the tension like he could always be counted on to do. Except this time, he doesn’t. This time, he says:

“This is dangerous. Your suit is compromised. We need to fix this. Immediately.”

Different. Darker. Dick’s voice is even lower now in both tone and volume, so much so that you have to strain your ears to hear him. The measure of his words is slow and sure, and it makes you twitch, hips shifting in an animal inclination to wiggle your ass in order to please him.

“Wh-what do you suppose we do?” you ask, palms planting on your side of the brick wall so as to exaggerate the curve of your back.

In your mind’s eye, you imagine Dick’s breath catching — much the same way it did that time he accidentally caught you running naked from the shower to your bedroom because it was laundry day and you had forgotten to replace the towels in the bathroom you shared as roommates.

For a moment, he had stood frozen: mouth open and blue eyes fixed to your bare breasts, the creamsicles he had left the apartment a few minutes ago to procure for the two of you dripping down both hands. And then, he had abruptly turned his back to you, muttering something about chasing down ice cream trucks that didn’t want to stop.

But you had caught it: the desire in his eyes.

Undeniable, like the flush creeping up his cheeks or the tent in his jeans before he spewed “Sorry-i-didn’t-see-anything” and ducked into his room, pulling the door closed behind him with his foot because he was still holding on to two melting lumps of citrus-flavoured ice cream.

It was the elephant in the room. The big, unspoken cloud that constantly hung over the two of you when you weren’t preoccupied with discussing training plans or the moves of petty criminals and supervillains, a topic neither dared to broach because it would make things way too messy, too complicated…

…too good to be true?

Was it really too good to be true? And if so, how good? you can’t help thinking, having left the ball in Dick’s court and waiting with bated breath for his next move.

“I think there’s only one thing to do to get you out of this sticky situation.”

More rustling of limbs behind you. Perhaps your partner moving in close, kneeling to get a better look at what he was dealing with. Which could only mean one thing:

Dick’s face was now in your ass.

He touches you and you jolt, feeling the slip of his finger through the rip in your suit, right at the junction of your thighs. You wonder if Dick could feel it — the soaked gusset of your panties. But the suspense lasts for all of a second before he mutters,

“God, you’re wet,”

and adds a second finger to the first, Nightwing gripping onto your suit to tear it down the middle in one swift motion, exposing your flimsy panties to the night.

Throb.

Legs growing weak, you lose your balance for a moment, falling into the brick at the waist. Your clit pulses at what had just transpired, ushering in a new wave of wetness that threatens to spill down your thighs.

“There. Now that part of your suit has been removed, try squeezing through the hole on your side.”

It was bullshit and you knew it. The suit was thin to begin with; shaving off a few millimetres wasn’t going to do much. But you obey regardless, moving your hips from side to side in a manner so suggestive you felt your nipples harden to think of the effect it must’ve been having on Dick.

“Like this?”

Laying it on thick, you feign innocence in an attempt to see how far the charade would take you.

“Yeah, just like that. But it’s not good enough. I think we ought to get rid of this too.”

And just like that, your panties fall away with another unceremonious rip.

“There. Spread your legs. Wider. Yes, like that. Try moving now.”

It was insanity.

How his instructions aroused you so, even with Dick’s voice muffled and muted behind a brick wall. You couldn’t see him, and he had barely even touched you aside from doing what he needed to do to tear off your panties and the bottom half of your suit. And yet, he had you on edge, every shake and tremble of your body foreshadowing a climax so intense it threatened to make you scream so loudly it would wake everyone in the building.

The evening air blew cool across your skin, a contrast with the wet heat radiating out from between your legs, obediently spread for your mentor’s inspection; a crude reminder that you had an audience.

So you put on a show, exaggerating the arch of your back as you walk your hands further down towards the base of the wall, playing up the angle of your ass in an attempt to beckon, to entice…

…to prod Dick into crossing the tension-filled line the two of you had been toeing for months now.

“It’s still not working. I think I need a push. A thrust from behind.“

There. The final nail in the coffin.

All Nightwing needed to move.

You can hear it, sense it; the flurry of activity as a half-step brings him towards you: the cool sensation of Dick’s dark suit as he pressed his hips into your bare skin, the familiar sound of a glove slipping off before his palm is resting on the small of your back, a shudder of breath rising from the cavity of his chest, escaping in a soft hiss the moment he feels the touch of you, skin to skin.

He really was so obvious.

“Are you sure about this? I-I can always try the explosives, if you want—“

And a gentleman through and through.

“Just fuck me, Dick Grayson.”

Another intake of breath, sharp this time, and Nightwing’s moan transforms into a growl, low and guttural. You bite down hard onto your lower lip, doing your best not to draw blood though it was imperative that you did not scream. But the feeling of Dick’s lips on your body — tracing kisses in arcs that rounded the flesh of your ass before traversing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs — made it difficult not to, especially when they grew in urgency, his tongue extending to lap the length of your slit, the heat of his breath combining with an appreciative hum that you felt more than heard, thrumming through your core.

“Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmy—“

You barely recognized the sound of your own voice: pitched high and growing in desperation by the second in a way you knew would make you cringe later on to remember when you were dressed more casually in a t-shirt and jeans. Because there was no way you’d ever forget the way this felt: Dick’s tongue laving slow before flicking fast across your swollen clit, the man’s mouth on your pussy nothing less than pure magic in the way he brought you just to the edge of orgasm before backing off, teasing you in this way over and over again.

They said he was a pretty boy with a face too handsome to shoot, a man who had no trouble scoring even after having made some bad life decisions, like wearing green pixie boots, or even sporting a mullet. It didn’t hurt either that he could easily count his rear end among his best “ass”-ets: pert and ample and shapely enough to fill out his suit like nobody’s business. But it was only now that you were realizing that when it came to Nightwing, looks were only a tiny part of the equation.

Because the way he worked you over was almost criminal — sinful with how good it felt to be at his complete mercy that you were actually thankful to have gotten stuck. Having sat himself between the wall and your thighs, Dick ate you out with gusto, his fingers busy kneading the flesh of your ass when they weren’t sliding into your pussy, taking turns in competing with his tongue to see which could elicit the most salacious moans from your lips.

“Better keep it quiet over there. Don’t wanna wake the neighbours.”

The smirk is obvious in the voice of the hypocrite who shamelessly chose to ignore the wet sounds he himself was producing with his head between your legs, Dick lapping with abandon as his fingers gripped onto your hips, encouraging you to rest more of your weight onto that handsome face.

Your breasts ache within the confines of your suit, sorely missing the action on the other side of the wall. In desperation, you touch yourself, trying in vain to feel pinches and caresses through material that just refused to give. Frustration mounting, you accidentally let out a petulant whine — much to your horror.

Whining was never your thing.

But then again, neither was having sex through a hole in a wall.

“Baby, if you wanted more, just ask.”

Baby? BABY?! Did having midnight sex on a rooftop in the heart of Blüdhaven mean that you and Dick were at the point where terms of endearment were allowed? Also, how was it possible that the word sounded a million times sexier coming from his mouth?!

Dick pulls away and there is more shuffling, more movement. You imagine him pulling down the bottom half of his suit until it sits below the diamond-cut V of his hips, the sleek black second-skin hugging the rounded curves of his perfect glutes. You imagine his tights bunched around the bulky musculature of his thighs, the same ones you covertly juiced over every time it was leg day at the gym.

You had always wondered whether he wore underwear beneath that unforgiving suit, and if so, how it was even possible for him to hide those lines. For now, however, you were content with settling for the image of Dick Grayson pulling out his, well, dick, and slowly stroking from base to tip and back again, a smile on his lips as he contemplated the messy smear of your wet pussy, spread wide and waiting beneath the hazy glow of the city’s ambient light.

“You ready for your second lesson of the night?” he asks.

“Second lesson? What was the first?”

“Not to jump through holes in walls unless you’re absolutely sure you can make it.”

You’re so lucky I’m horny as fuck right now, you grit your teeth. “Right, of course, Professor Nightwing. And what’s the second lesson?”

“I’m gonna teach you how to be quiet in any situation. Now get ready for a pop quiz.”

THRUST!

Gasp!

You almost choke on it; the air that catches in your throat the moment Dick enters you fully with a single thrust of his powerful hips. You can feel him, the base of his cock flush against your body, your walls pulsing in reaction to the sudden intrusion of his length, his hardness, his girth, Dick’s fingers spreading your cheeks wider as he attempted to bury himself even further.

“Keep quiet now. Not a peep, understood? Or else it’ll be an F for you. And I know you don’t like to fail. Isn’t that right, teacher’s pet? Yes, that’s what I thought. Such a good kitty.”

Dick reaches down as he says this, hand between your legs; petting and teasing as his fingers skirt over your clit in an attempt to see how wet you could get, how tightly your walls could squeeze around him.

He settles index and thumb in a crescent about the circumference of his cock as he picks up speed, savouring the feel of your delicate skin stretched thin and wide around his body, every stroke dislodging more and more of your mutual arousal, the creamy evidence eliciting a guttural moan from the man that you considered entirely unfair when you were forced to keep quiet in a stairwell that possessed the acoustics of an opera house.

“This feels incredible. You are incredible,” Nightwing sighs, stopping to pull back for a moment, as if to admire the sight of your pussy trembling from his administrations, right before diving back in with renewed speed and vigour to make you clench both hands into fists, biting your lower lip until it was blanched of blood. “God, I could fuck you all night. All day too, for that matter.”

Dick Grayson had always been chatty. Apparently, sex was no exception. It made you blush; every sweet, filthy word falling from his lips adding so much to the lasciviousness of the situation that you weren’t sure which turned you on more: the way his cock managed to hit just the right angle at just the right time, or the way he played with your mind, his verbal calisthenics every bit a match for his physical prowess.

And though you did your best to stay quiet on your side of the wall, the lower half of your body was a different matter — arousal made obvious to your partner with every slick slide of his cock in and out of your body, the wet sounds of your copious juices dripping down to smear the insides of your thighs and across the hard, muscular plane of Dick’s groin.

Nightwing was right. It felt incredible. Even when stuck in a wall, he could’ve fucked you all day and night and you’d still want more, eager and willing to take him deeply into yourself, to have Dick do whatever he wanted with you. Because you trusted him like you trusted no other:

You trusted him with your life.

And perhaps it is this very thought that sends you, makes you feel free to let go; stepping off the ledge of control to let the most intense orgasm of your life take you.

Dick fucks through it: pushing through the clenching pulse of your walls around him, your pussy milking his cock as he neared his own completion.

But not before he gives you one hard, final thrust from behind.

Because Nightwing — always dutiful, always resourceful — would never leave his partner hanging, stuck in a brick wall with her bare ass exposed.

And right before you pass out from the arrival of a second orgasm coming fast on the tail end of the first, you feel it:

Your hips finally sliding through the hole…

…and your head meeting the ground.

And one Dick Grayson muttering:

“Oh shit.”

Ahahahaha!! Hope y'all enjoyed that ending! 🤣 Thank you so much for reading till the very end! Much love to each and every one of you! For more juicy reads, please check out my P*a*t*reon page (please see link in pinned post)!

👀👉🏼 Feel free to peep the Masterpost here!

-XOXO, Otonny 💖🥰

(Illustration taken from Nightwing Cover #88 by Bruno Redondo)

#nightwing #dick grayson #nightwing smut #nightwing fic #dick grayson smut #dick grayson fic #batfam #batfam fic #dc universe #dc comics #dc #my writing #kinktober 2022 #dc smut

2K notes · View notes

qedart · 1 year

Photo

Thanks to everyone who voted in the poll! I hope this qualifies well enough for the ‘Something Sweet’ category. Also please be gentle, this is the first fic I’ve written in years.

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They were supposed to be having dinner. That had been the plan at least.

After flying multiple cross-country trips (consistently with his least favourite first-officer too) Ron had secured himself some well-earned and very-much-needed time off. He’d decided to spend it in San Diego, catching up with Ice, Mav, and the kids (both the actual kids and Mav’s strays). Tonight was his first night in town and the intention was for the five of them to go out, grab a nice bite to eat and properly catch up.

Unfortunately before they even set foot in the door of the nice little Italian place they’d picked out, Ice’s phone began to ring. The grimace that had pulled at his face upon glancing at the caller ID made it clear to all of them it wasn’t a call he could dismiss either. 10 minutes in, Tom was still talking outside but hadn’t made moves to leave for the office yet. Unfortunately he also didn’t look like things were wrapping up either.

At the five minute mark Mav and Pete had gone to order the table drinks, but promptly got distracted on the way by the ping-ball machine that had been pushed into the back corner of the shop (a shiny ball, flashing lights, and the prospect of a pointless competition - the poor little morons never stood a chance). They were now vying, loudly, for the top score instead.

Rolling his eyes at the Mitchell show, Ron turned back to the only person who had the decency to stick around. But where Tom had been idly reading through the menu when he’d looked away, the kid now looked all the world like he was trying to work up the nerve to do something, or say something.

Arching a brow, Ron nudged the boy's shoulder, grimacing apologetically at the flinch it earned.

“You alright there, Buddy? " he asked, as gently as he could manage.

Tom shot a fleeting glance his way before turning back to the menu once again, humming and nodding stiffly in response.

Others may have pushed the subject, but Ron had been handling Icicles for a good long while now, and knew that the best thing for situations such as these was to give it time. Rushing it only led to walls going up or conversations stalling because Tom wasn’t completely ready to say what he needed to say but felt pressured to say something regardless. Neither were productive ways to spend one’s night.

So picking up his phone and tapping through to his newsfeed, that’s precisely what Ron did. He’d managed to get most of the way through the major headlines when Tom started fidgeting in his peripheral.

“Uncle Sli?”

Giving himself a quick mental pat on the back, Ron put down his phone and turned his attention back to Tom, who was looking over at him with an expression that he hadn’t seen in decades. That was to say the Tom Kazansky special blend of being intensely anxious while desperately trying to mask it behind cool indifference. Not necessarily a unique combination but one Ron could pick out of a line-up any day of the week.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he replied.

Tom faltered for a moment, before clearing his throat and drawing a deep, steadying breath.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he said, eyes fixed down on the menu in front of him but pushing through with all his might. “All things considered, it’s probably blatantly obvious. Doesn’t need saying. And… maybe… I don’t know… it’s just….

“I know it’s silly, and that it’s not a big deal anymore really, and everyone who properly matters here is already fine with it. I just… I’ve never actually told anyone and I feel… I sort of just want…”

“Want what?” Ron gently prompted.

Dragging in a deep, shuddering breath Tom turned to face Ron properly for the first time that evening.

“I’m gay,” he uttered, fingers clenching at his arms so hard the nails had started to go white with the pressure. “I-I’ve known for a while, but I’ve never actually… said it. Or told anyone.”

Ron blinked.

Well, that wasn’t what he had been expecting. But in retrospect it really really should have been. He’d had this conversation before after all. Not quite word for word, obviously, but the open mix of fear of a poor reaction and quiet hope of acceptance battling for dominance on Tom’s face made it feel pretty damn identical all the same.

Smiling warmly, Ron wrapped an arm around the kid's shoulders and tugged him closer, just like he had his little brother all those years ago.

“That’s still a big thing, Buddy. Definitely not stupid at all,” he said, smiling a little wider as he felt Tom lean properly against him. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“S’alright.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

“...Thank you,” Tom whispered, so quietly Ron almost didn’t catch it. These damn kids really were out to break his heart it seemed.

Sighing deeply, he pressed a firm kiss to the top of the boy’s head and held him tight until the moment was broken by a loud, indignant squawk from behind them.

“You’re a damn cheat!” Pete cried from the pinball machine.

“You are a sore loser,” Maverick jeered back.

Slider rolled his eyes and muttered, “Those idiots are going to get us kicked out before we even order.”

Tom laughed quietly and nodded, before pulling away from the hug and getting to his feet.

“Back in a sec,” he said, before strolling over to, presumably, pull the Mitchell’s back into line.

Ron arched his brow when Ice dropped back down at the table not a moment later, like he’d been waiting to do so. He was off his phone too, miracle of miracles.

“Everything good in the Pentagon?” Ron drawled, leaning back in his seat.

“You know I can’t comment on that,” Ice replied, taking a sip of his water as he stowed his phone away.

Ron rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Yes yes, you’re a very powerful and important man.”

“That goes without saying,” the smug little shit retorted, smirking - before shooting him a knowing look. “You’re 2 for 2 now, huh?”

Slider blinked innocently, leaning back a little further in his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Ice,” he replied smoothly, because even in this very peculiar situation it wasn’t really his news to be spreading about, was it?

Ice’s smirk gentled into something a little warmer as he nodded his understanding, before reaching over and nudging Ron’s arm gently. “Thanks for being there for him too, Sli.”

Ron smiled, ducking his head as he nudged him back.

“Any time, little brother.”

—

#tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #pete maverick mitchell #in the background this time #Time Warp AU #top gun #art

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thisisnotkitty · 6 months

Text

hello securitywaiter nation have you thought about ness being abby’s teacher bc I HAVE

below the cut because i can't shut up ever :D

-abby does well enough in school academically but is still needs some work in the socioemotional dept

-when she starts a new school year mike is a bit worried but then she comes back home absolutely ecstatic and mike is like “okay this is good”

-she talks all about how mr. ness lets her color while he teaches and how mr. ness gave them all name tags w silly drawings (hers is a bear) etc etc

-mike is actually really happy bc most teachers have a hard time understanding abby (heck, he has a hard time understanding her) so he’s looking forward to meeting this mr. ness during back to school night

-it goes on like this for awhile, with abby raving about mr. ness and mike is just happy that his little sister seems to be doing better in school. the first time she comes home talking about these kids she hung out with at recess he practically cries

-back to school night is here and the first time mike sees this mr. ness he’s like abby u traitor you didnt tell me this man was exactly my type (he doesn’t actually tell her bc he never brings up his lovelife around her - not that he’s had much of one - but still isn’t this the type of things siblings know intrinsically)

-anyways they’re having the kids show their guardians around the classroom and their seats and everything and then mr. ness is explaining the way his class works and mike is totally paying attention. yup. he’s not distracted by those chocolate brown eyes at ALL

-so they’re waiting to do the one-on-ones with the teacher and mike crouches down next to abby and tries to be all chill “hey, abs. has mr. ness ever mentioned a partner or anything?” acting all nonchalant

-but abby sees right through him and is immediately like “he’s single! do u want me to put in good word for you?” and mikes like “NO i have no idea what ur talking about haha i just wanted to know bc it’s important to know that about ur teachers okay wait why are you smiling like that”

-(abby’s a little menace and already ships it)

-when it’s finally their turn mike is just chanting to himself “be normal. be normal. be normal” lmao

-but now that he’s sitting face to face with the teacher he notices that he has freckles and every chance he had at playing it cool goes out the window

-ness is telling him all about how well abby is doing in class and if there was anything he could do to make it easier for her in the classroom and abby’s just sitting there looking at mike internally screaming with a smile

-so she turns to her teacher and is like “you should get mike’s number just in case something comes up. he’ll probably think of some things later since he’s been taking care of me alone for awhile” (bc u know when kids do that things where they kinda trauma dump at the most random moments lmao)

-and ness at first refuses and is like “im sure email works just fine!” and abby’s like WHYY is he not just taking the bait and then she has like a lightbulb moment

-bc ness probably assumes like everyone else that mike is a single father and abby’s his daughter and abby’s like oh no how do i make this work

-so she goes full anya mode (for my spy x family watchers) and is like “im sure mike would appreciate having your number on hand! he’s a very protective older brother you see. taking care of his little sister must be hard. i’m sure being a big brother like him is hard so it’d be for his peace of mind. did i mention he’s my older brother”

-and ness also has a little bit of a crush already forming so he doesn’t catch the obvious set up and is instead distracted by the fact that the handsome guy in front of him is in fact NOT a single father so maybe he does have a chance wowow

-yup so they exchange numbers andddddd ill come back to this later i really need coffee

#do i know what grade abby is in?? no #do i even have a vague idea of how i could muddle the ages for this work? also no #i am literally jsut here what more do u want from me #yknow purple rotting michael when he done got scooped #thats what i feel like with the amount of brain rot that i have #im actually so mentally ill its insane #also i very specifically wait for someone else to post on the tag before i make another post #bc i ahve wayy too many thoughts on these two #fnaf #fnaf movie #kitty.twt #ness the waiter #securitywaiter #mike schmidt #mike x ness #fnaf ness #abby schmidt #i love abby being securitywaiter shipper no. 1

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coloursflyaway · 15 days

Note

That's so sweet of you to even reply! Um now that you've put me on the spot 😂..honestly I'm a bit clueless 😅. I'm not very imaginative. I just really enjoy reading zowens and so far the few I've read from a couple of you guys have been reallyy good reads!

All I know is that may be something where it's mutual pining and Sami's lost all hope but it's actually not unrequited?? May be a bit of possessive Kevin thrown in? Idk 😭 is what I just said even classified as a prompt??

PS. I know you said you haven't watched wrestling in a while but did you happen to catch the zowens moments at wrestlemania at all! ? 😍😁

Hi!!

So, first of all, great prompt, fits them fantastic, loved it. I just ended up overdoing it by a little, I think, so now it's not really a prompt fill anymore, but a whole fic 😂 really didn't expect that because writing has been Hard lately, so thank you for that!!

Here's the AO3 link, but I'll include the text here too.

PS. I have mainly seen the gifsets of them, but they are!!! so!!!! I love them ♥

There is a brand-new, shining belt in his hands and Sami is aware that this should be the happiest moment in his life. It isn’t. He looks down at the silver plates, the leather strap, heavy and solid and everything he worked for, and he’s happy, of course, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it doesn’t compare to - Well. No matter. Some things you cannot have; Sami has learnt that years and years ago.

Kevin’s face is shining with joy about the match he won and the beers he has had to celebrate it, and Sami’s heart aches at the sight, fierce and wild and beautiful. “The next time”, Kevin mutters into the too-short distance between them, and when Kevin takes another deep swig of his drink, Sami knows that he will have forgotten the words the next morning, “the next time, we’ll tag and we will take all of them out. Jus’ you and me, we’ll fuck them up and send them back crying to their mothers. An’ then we’ll do it again, and again, and again, until we’ll get a shot a’ the titles and then we’ll take ‘em too. An’ we’ll be unstoppable.”

He’s beaming and leaning in and Sami feels himself swaying closer, cannot stop himself. Kevin is magnetic, always has been, and Sami sometimes wonders how long he’ll be able to stop himself from giving in to his pull.

There is a knock on the door of his dressing room, which finally pulls him out of his reverie. Sami takes a moment to compose himself before he answers, wiping silly fantasies from his mind that he has known to be useless for most of his life now like he would wipe tears from his eyes. He’s used to both, after all. “Come in!”

The door swings open, and he shouldn’t, but Sami knows who is behind it before he sees Kevin standing there. “Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”, Kevin asks instead of a greeting, stepping into the room like he owns it. In some way, Sami guesses, he does. “What makes you think that’s not what I am doing?”, he asks back, getting up, because knowing Kevin, he’ll be pulled into a hug within the next thirty seconds. Knowing himself, he won’t ever be able to turn down a chance to be close to Kevin.

His words draw a laugh from Kevin’s lips that Sami treasures, and just like Sami knew he would, Kevin wraps his arms around him the second Sami has stood up. The edges of his belt presses into his stomach painfully, but that is a small price to pay for the comfort of Kevin’s thick, warm arms around him, the faint tickle of Kevin’s beard against Sami’s neck.

“To start with”, Kevin begins to answer while still pressed against Sami, only slowly pulling back, “because you are in here and not out there, where you should be. Also, because I have known you for more than half my life and this isn’t your celebratory face.”

“Sounds good”, he replies easily, then adds, “only that we’ll have to wait a bit longer with doing that, I’m booked to tag with Quicksilver the next show. But after that…” He doesn’t expect more than a scoff – Kevin isn’t that fond of Quicksilver, but then again, he isn’t fond of a lot of people – but instead, Kevin’s face darkens, his brows furrowing and his eyes suddenly glistening in the dim light of the bar. It’s a look Sami half-recognises from the ring, because the intensity is almost the same, but there is something else mixed into it. Something dark, something dangerous, something alluring.

He’s right, of course he is, but Sami still tries for a few moments to come up with an excuse, before he finally nods. It wouldn’t make a difference, saying anything else, when Kevin knows him so well. “It’s nothing”, he adds, because he can see Kevin starting to worry within half a second. “Just a bit of nostalgia. Reminiscing about the old days, you know the drill.” “How old?”, Kevin asks and, thank God, the smile is back in his voice and his eyes and Sami wants to luxuriate in it, wants to stay here forever. In any moment with Kevin, really.

“Ring of Honor old”, he replies with a wry smile, because it almost feels like a confession; to be here, at the pinnacle of his career, and thinking about being young and dumb and so, so hopeful. Again, it makes Kevin laugh, makes him clasp a hand on the side of Sami’s shoulder; a point of contact that is so warm it would be enough to sustain him through a winter. “That is old.” “I know.” “Anything special? Or just the general beauty of horrible hotels, being sixty percent bruises and having to put me in bed after I drank my weight in shitty lager?”

There is something about old wounds, the way their pain becomes familiar, almost an old friend. Sami’s lips tingle, remembering, his heart aches, dull and yet fierce, but he smiles nonetheless, too used to the pain for it to feel disruptive.

“All of the above, I’d say.”

“Quicksilver?”, Kevin repeats, and even his voice is different, rough and full of something that Sami doesn’t understand, yet desperately wants to. “Yes. You know, silver and blue mask, used to hang around with Scorpio Sky?” “I know who he is”, Kevin replies, but his voice hasn’t changed. Maybe Sami missed a fight between them in the past? “Why are you tagging with him?”

Sami self-consciously pushes a hand through his hair; it’s becoming too long again. “Well, he asked and I didn’t see anything wrong with giving it a shot. He seems like a-” “You shouldn’t tag with anyone but me”, Kevin interrupts him, and suddenly Sami does recognise what is dripping from every word he speaks: hunger. “Fuck Quicksilver. Fuck all of them. They don’t have what we have. They never will.”

“Doesn’t sound very celebratory”, Kevin states, but there is humour in his voice. “How about tomorrow, after I win the United States Championship, we’ll do it properly? I don’t think I’ll be able to give you the customary three dozen bruises until then, but if you really miss it so much, I am sure we can find some terrible highway motel we can crash in. And as long as it’s better beer, I don’t mind drinking too much of it.”

It’s a joke, of course it is, and a sweet half-serious offer to relive a bit of a time Sami misses dearly on occasion, and yet it’s suddenly too much. Because he has a title in his hands, because out there, there are thousands who cheered for him, and yet, it isn’t the happiest moment in his life, not by far.

The familiar ache in his chest breaks open like the earth cracking in half to spew fire, and Sami knows that he cannot keep the pain from his face even before Kevin reacts. But react he does, worry suddenly clouding his gaze, the hand he still has on Sami’s shoulder gripping harder.

“Sami?”, he asks, and his voice is too much, his gaze, his concern, his friendship that has never been all Sami wanted. “Are you alright? Should I get a doctor?”

“I’m okay”, Sami manages to force out, but he doesn’t sound it, not even to himself. “Just. Don’t say that, Kevin. Not with the… the shitty hotels and the drinking.” It takes a moment to get a reaction, which Sami understands; he isn’t making sense, after all. But then, all of a sudden, Kevin’s expression crumples, his shoulders drop like a burden, half-forgotten, has been forced upon them once more.

“I’m sorry”, he mutters, fingers tightening reflexively around Sami’s shoulder before they fall away. “I never… the last time, when I got so drunk you had to take me to my room, you never told me what happened, even if I have an inkling… I don’t think I ever had the guts to say it, but I’m sorry. For whatever it is I did.”

“Kevin”, he breathes out, unsure, because surely this cannot be happening. Sami has been aware of his own feelings for years, but there is no way they could be requited. And yet, there is a glint in Kevin’s eyes that looks like yearning; and yet, Sami’s heart picks up its pace, spelling out in morse code: pleasepleasepleaseplease.

A moment of silence stretches between them, thick and viscous, then Kevin knocks back the rest of his beer, before crushing the can and dropping it on the floor. “Fuck it”, he mutters, and Sami wants to ask what he means, but before he can get the words out, Kevin reaches out, one hand on Sami’s hip, one on the side of his neck, and pulls him in. He tastes of gas station beer and stale chips and almost ten years of quiet, desperate, hopeless longing, and even before he manages to kiss back, Sami knows that this is the happiest he ever will be.

“What?”

Kevin isn’t looking at him anymore, but there is so much pain written in clear, horrible letters across his face that it washes away the ache in Sami’s chest; how could it matter, when Kevin is hurting right in front of him?

A wry laugh escapes Kevin’s lips, which might be the worst sound Sami has ever heard, but then he speaks, still not looking at Sami, and makes it worse. “I’m sure you remember it as well as I do, that one night when we were still in ROH. Before you started tagging with Quicksilver. When Chuck, I think, got all that horrible beer from the gas station around the corner and I just didn’t know when to stop. I never had the guts to ask what happened either, but you were so different afterwards, didn’t want to be touched, to be alone with me… and the scribbling on my arm… tell me if I’m wrong, but after some time I figured that I probably, you know. Kissed you. Which I shouldn’t have, of course. Against your will. So, don’t worry, I won’t do that again. Ever.”

“Did you sleep well?”, Sami asks the next morning when Kevin opens the door of his hotel room, looking dishevelled and hungover and utterly beautiful. For once, they had splurged on two hotel rooms instead of sharing one, and while Sami wishes he could have woken up next to Kevin, maybe even wrapped up in his arms, this, too, is wonderful.

He hands Kevin one of the coffees he picked up at a nearby café, idly wondering if this could become his thing now, treating his… his Kevin to coffee in the morning. After all, he usually is up far earlier than the other.

“Ugh”, Kevin replies, taking a gulp of coffee before even trying to form words, and it might be the most enchanting sound Sami has ever heard. “Think so. Can’t remember much. About sleeping or last night. Did you get into a fight, by the way?”

“What? No, no fights”, Sami replies distractedly, wondering if that means Kevin doesn’t remember their kiss, wondering if that means they will get to have two first kisses. Almost smiles at how much he will get to tease Kevin about it if he really has forgotten. All but plans to start the story of how they got together with this from now on: you know, I was in love with Kevin for almost a decade and he kisses me and then immediately forgets about it! Can you believe that?

“You sure?”, Kevin asks again between sips of coffee. “I know my handwriting is awful and drunk it’s even worse, and the letters are really smudged, but I wrote Don’t fuck with Sami on my arm last night.”

It takes a moment to sink in through the layers of happiness and imagined mornings and afternoons and evenings together, but eventually, Sami learns what it feels like to have the world end while not making a sound.

Sami recognises the pain on Kevin’s face; it’s the twin of his own, the one that has been with him for so long that it has found its permanent home at the bottom of his heart, with him in every moment he spends with Kevin, every one they are apart. It’s old and it’s weary and it’s familiar, and Sami should hate it, but.

But if his heart houses the other half of it, then that has to mean something.

And then Kevin says kissed, and for a moment, Sami thinks that he remembers, before realising that, no, he doesn’t, and somehow that is worse.

“You did”, he answers, and finally, Kevin looks at him again. His eyes are wide and terrified and still beautiful, and Sami hasn’t allowed himself to think it for a decade at least, but he loves him so much it is tearing him apart. “You kissed me that night. And then you didn’t remember it the next day, only had that writing on your arm and I thought you were trying to warn yourself not to do it again. But. Kevin. I kissed back.”

Kevin stumbles into his room, his lips still tingling with the last kiss Sami pressed onto them before closing the door behind him. Smiling so brightly Kevin thought he would burn up just looking at him, so happily that Kevin wanted to burn. Sami. The name alone is enough to make something within Kevin break open and pour out six or seven or eight years of pure love into the space between his ribs. He can’t explain why he had the courage to kiss Sami tonight, when he had sworn to himself he never would again and again and again, but now, knowing how Sami’s lips feel against his, how his hair feels between his fingers, his body pressed against Kevin’s, he thanks every divine entity he might believe in or not that he did.

Sami.

The alcohol is making his movements sluggish and sloppy, but Kevin manages to find a pen at the bottom of his backpack anyway, stored away for – maybe, hopefully – signing autographs after the show. He didn’t, but not even that matters anymore, because he needs it now for something much more important.

Don’t forget kiss with Sami, he writes on his arm, letters sloping and curling into each other, a smudge across half of it.

Not that he thinks there is much risk of doing so. After all, hadn’t Sami kissing him back been the happiest moment of his life?

There is no answer for several seconds, Kevin just staring at him like he has changed his life and hung the stars and the moon and the sun itself, and Sami is stuck in place until he isn’t anymore. Because the first time, years and years ago, Kevin had been brave enough to take the first step, and afterwards, Sami hadn’t dared to do the same. But maybe now is the time to return the favour.

Trembling, he picks up Kevin’s hands, which are warm and familiar, have caused as much hurt as they have healed, and puts them on his own body: one on his hip, the other on the side of his neck. And he steps closer, until he’s so close he can read the hopeful disbelief in Kevin’s eyes, can feel that the other’s breath has stopped.

“It was just like this”, Sami explains, and Kevin’s gaze drops to his lips, shoots up again as if he has to make sure that Sami wants this. “You didn’t want me to tag with Quicksilver. Or anyone else. You said that they could never have what we have, and you were right, and then you pulled me in and-”

Kevin kisses him.

He tastes like chewing gum and Red Bull and love, and Sami drinks him in until it feels like he is drowning, and even before he manages to kiss back, Sami knows that this, now truly, is the happiest he ever will be

#kevin owens #sami zayn #zowens #kevin steen #el generico #steenerico #wwe #wrestlemania

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knavestrolls · 9 months

Note

Ok I’m ososo sleepy and don’t have brain cells but um. If u have things u wanna share but don’t get the chance to, I’m makin grabby hands. Otherwise I’m nappin in ur ask box :P

This is gonna be a long post of silly little fun facts so here's a readmore.

Merrin doesn't glow if the sun is up. It only glows with the moonlight. Althea's dreamjob is trophy wife. Her second dream job is adult toy tester. Calmet knows the name Alacard. They have no idea who he is. Mortal's phone home screen is a picture of Barbie sleeping. His lock screen is a close up of her eye that's so zoomed in it's unrecognizable as an eye but he knows what it is. Rimmer is an absolute disaster gay who's type is something he'll only admit to while under the influence. Vladir isn't attracted to Syhren's current body she's tied to. If a quad of Veketi's ever hurt him, Liegia would kill them at risk of her own life. However, if they hurt her while he wasn't around but they clearly make him happy? She'd hide that fact and take it to the grave. Liliac's favorite flower is actually dandelions. Angela regularly shows up to work in her husband's shirts and has to change because she realizes she got dressed tired and the oversized shirt is restricting her movement.

Helsin has almost broken his wrist by stimming a little too hard too long. Nerola has no confidence that anyone will stay with her- except for her moirail. If there ever was a day he'd leave her it would break her completely. She also will let anyone do anything to her in trying to make friends.

Koreki can track scents via tasting them. His tongue can expand to almost a foot long.

Bailey, despite working at a bar, is a lightweight.

Beatrx's vision is slightly blurred due to her unusual pupils.

Xennaa would regularly leave needles around by accident while she was working on projects and still wanted to be a seamstress, which left Trisin with no more than 4 foot scars.

Harvey is a vegetarian because he hates the taste of blood. He loves to pretend to be a vampyre.

Cutlas will wear anything but shapewear.

Airika regularly performs for small crowds of lowbloods for free. She dreams of starting a school of ballet for the less fortunate.

Nemasu can't read.

Ginesa is life long friends with Kala.

Trisin can make all 6 irises look individually.

Sadhbh never disconnects her legs, even when home alone.

Espoir's current Favorite Person is Feashe, and neither of them know if it's romantic leaning.

Maxton refuses all interviews except during a competition, and then only accepts those done by the official casting crew.

Gefgor's voice is incredibly low baritone.

Vravei, although themed with snakes, lusus was actually a luna moth.

Salzaar could be any weight she chooses, but is most comfortable with what's seen currently.

Hearts loves filling in for trapzee best and filling in for Dimple least.

Dimple has 3 replacement noses on her at all times.

Alexie has only spoken to two trolls in the last sweep.

Jugular once confused regular brownies with edibles and proceeded to have the worst night of her life completely sober.

The body Syhren's currently in was once named Girlie.

Davosi's pupil shape makes their distance judgement terrible.

Tsubuu doesn't like talking walks on land- being too far away from her ship gives her terrible anxiety.

Doppio watches e-sports to relax. She has a favorite streamer but he doesn't know it's her because she chats on a throw away account to not draw attention to herself.

Feashe wears her hair in buns because it's the easiest hairstyle to do that she thinks balances out her horns.

Esstoc likes to find quiet places to read books alone. Recently he found one that had a mutant girl sleeping- so he stayed until she woke up just to make sure she made it back safely.

Neyire's fashion sense has been the same since she was a wriggler.

Velosi will wear anything for the right price.

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hyliascommonwealth · 1 year

Text

I posted 294 times in 2022

234 posts created (80%)

60 posts reblogged (20%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hyliascommonwealth

@cupcakes-and-british-tea

@askfairyromano

@cardverse-royality-and-rouges

@kumacheerio

I tagged 286 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#oc - 143 posts

#crossover oc - 139 posts

#zelda oc - 137 posts

#hws oc - 137 posts

#ooc - 95 posts

#uli - 83 posts

#vallo - 39 posts

#viri - 38 posts

#rika - 19 posts

#nabora - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#bro today has felt like it lasted three weeks and that journey culminated in recording these asks right next to eachother and garnered

My Top Posts in 2022:

Ok so.. I’ve been at work today and listening to my music an 80s song called me to draw Uli, with the disco colors from earlier, but @cardverse-royality-and-rouges suggested him on a motorcycle, then i picked specifically a 1984 Kawasaki Ninja, which i relied on this a lot haha.

But yea 80’s Uli on an international trip riding a motorcycle accidentally becoming a muse for artists or whatever, it’s a silly idea but it’s mine now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway it’s here now so have fun with that idea

14 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

((Okay I am so unbelievably curious to see what you have to say about Oliver. 👀💕))

Sexuality Headcanon: I see him as being homosexual, in the way that a homosexual neighborhood mom adopts every queer child within a 14 block radius. He’s got the pins, the flags, and so so proud! Monogamous, he’s very VERY devoted to the one he loves, and it would take no less than the world ending to jeopardize that loyalty.

Gender Headcanon: He/him fluid

A ship I have with said character: can’t help but ship him with Arthur, your muses just have such great chemistry! Plus i see those simping hours

A BROTP I have with said character: I’ve enjoyed a lot for interactions I’ve seen with Oliver! I think it’s a tie for Alfred and Francis? They just seem to mesh well in a playful way while still feeling well flushed out and comfortable

A NOTP I have with said character: hmm, i can’t say i have one as of yet? Honestly he’s got such a vibe i think it would be hard to find a real NOTP for me

A random headcanon: I’m not sure if it has any basis in reality, but i feel like he loves to teach others how to bake, and might do weekly baking lessons at any given senior center / community He just seems so patient and bubbly, I love to imagine him just gladly teaching those who are disadvantaged how to bake?? It just vibes so hard in my brainspace.

General Opinion over said character: I have only had Oliver for 15 minutes and if anything happened to him i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. He’s so smol! But he’s also got a great wit and sass! Like, he’s such a well balanced muse, i love how you portray him!! It is always a pleasure to see how he interacts with those around him. There’s just a really powerful charm, and warmth to him, like even when he seems a bit exasperated, there’s no sense that he’s going to snap, or break over it, but like he’s genuinely considering what brought any given encounter to this point.

14 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

Oliver disco fever

He was such fun! I feel like he had a good time in the 80s.

The Disco Fever Paint brush has a solid Variety of colors, but I used the Palette for Kacheek

15 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

((Cause they’re buddies and based off the garden RP. Uli and Oliver with the woodland paint brush? 🥺💕))

//aaaaaaa! I hope you like it!!!

I used the Palette of the Woodland Uni for this set! It had the most diverse and appealing look! I'd like to think that they would hang out and pick herbs and forage for fun.

16 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay okay okay here me out. Captain Oliver Kirkland with the pirate brush.

//this implies that you wanna paint an already pirate themed pirate with the pirate paint brush?? does it duplicate his clothes? or just apply the PB color palette?

Pirate Oliver Pallete

22 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

// Genuinely feel like mine is embarrassing lol

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Ooc

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fountainpenguin · 2 years

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Hi, another update. Mentioned a while ago that my laptop was no longer functional- I’m still working towards replacing that with something new. Also got a new desktop computer (Replaced a device I’ve had for nearly a decade + transferred lots of files over). Going through lots of changes (Job switch, sibling got married, got a new office, also some other things I don’t want to go into detail about on Tumblr).

No longer have access to my old art program, but I planned ahead for that and bought a new program while it was on sale, so I’ll be experimenting with that in the upcoming weeks. Expect Happy Peppy Gary art. Might be some 130 Prompt spoilers in it but at this point I frankly don’t care, I’ve been actively planning and drafting the 130 since 2016 and I’m anxious to draw for some of the major plot stuff skljdf. My hyperfixation for the last several months has been War & Peace / Great Comet of 1812 and :’) “Pierre & Andrey” is a very good song for a lot of my OCs but also for Gary and the Pixies, I swear...

May also draw some Chloes and Kevins and others. Possibly Dame Sandy, some Longwood, and maybe some Commelina because I read through all the remaining Origin chapter drafts and stuff hit me hard and I cry, idk. I’m wasp dad trash and I’m really excited to share more Origin.

Basically I’m straight-up tired of living in fear of judgment so I hope you’re all ready to remember that this is my house and in this house I post what I want.

Don’t really have the emotional strength to talk to anybody, but I’ve been reviewing my ‘fics. I really want to put the next Reedfilter Rules chapter out- been sitting on that one for a very long time. Writing RR!Anti-Cosmo is extremely difficult but... wow, I often love him more than Riddleverse Classic Anti-Cosmo SKLDFJSKLDJF. In Classic he’s often bound by social status and tradition while RR!Anti-Cosmo straight-up does what he wants and it’s fantastic. I know I’ve been picking at the revisions for his chapter for ages, but he has to be perfect when he goes public because he's very different from Classic!Anti-Cosmo and I want everything to be /chef’s kiss for me.

If you’re new here and/or not up to date with Reedfilter canon, I encourage you to check the Reedfilter Rules tag on my blog and maybe learn some interesting things you didn’t know yet :> RR is an AU of my Classic take on canon, but it remains consistent with show canon and it’s full of dumb cliches and dumb flirting and political idiots and it’s just silly and fun for me.

Should be some Frayed Knots and Origin on the horizon as well, so thank you for your patience. I am extremely anxious to move both stories along and there’s not much left to do before I post, but I’m finicky and want to ensure my buffer is stable before I return to a consistent schedule. Fingers maybe crossed for going back to our one chapter a week schedule, but not promising that yet. We’re entering my favorite part of Origin, but it coincides with the most difficult part of Knots, so it’s a struggle.

Emphasizing again that I basically have not been keeping up with reviews, Tumblr notifs, or FFN / AO3 commentary for a very long time. I thank you for sending them and apologize if you were waiting for a response you didn’t receive. Life is kind of stressful and people always need me for something, so at the end of the day I don’t always want to build up the emotional strength to search my inbox and read comments for my different stories/fandoms that might not always be nice, and even if they are nice then I don’t always have the ability to reply. Sometimes it’s easier to look at nothing and sometimes those avoidance periods need to last a long time. I appreciate any kind words that have been sent my way.

I’ve been extremely busy and still have not watched the FOP live action spin-off thing. I’ve kept my distance from fandom content and successfully avoided spoilers all this time, but I’m planning to watch it very soon now that life is starting to come back under control. I watched the first episode and enjoyed it, but blocking out enough time to binge on free trial isn’t easy and suddenly most of the year goes by... Exhaustion.

Vainly hoped I’d return to Tumblr someday and find that the divider line and/or abilities to create white space dividers with the enter key had returned to the post editor and wow I cannot express enough how disappointed I am that they have done exactly not that.

Sorry for Ask box stuff I haven’t touched in one million years; just didn’t have FOP brainpower for a long time and needed to do other things. There are some heavy topics like war, abuse, politics, discrimination, death, and affairs in my ‘fics and sometimes you need space from that type of content even when you’re the one who put it there.

If anyone knows whether Tumblr still refuses to show posts that contain links, I’d be interested in knowing more about the current situation.

tl;dr - Sorry I can’t engage in long talks; holding conversation via back and forth writing has always been draining on my emotions and frankly everyone should just call me /lh

‘fic updates starting soon? Hoping to get a buffer up, thank you for your patience while the Creature Crossing ARPG has been getting all my love on dA. Anxious to see my fairy kids again, though.

More updates on fanfic schedule to come. Will probably post new FOP chapters on Fridays once it’s mid October. Further details to come.

#The amount of fear in my body when this post went into void for 20 minutes and I had to scramble to confirm it still existed #ridwriting #FAIRIES!#Reedfilter Rules #ridlife #I'm wasp dad trash #The bat with the hat #99% true as far as we remember

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tn4na · 1 year

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16012023 from my laptop the fact that i type from my laptop means that i could probably also just open my journal. but i really do get to write more this way. i suppose prioritizing is not a bad thing. today, i saw my cousins for maybe? the last time this visit? it was very nice to see them. one of them, i only got to see today. but it was a very nice day. it was very nice to see them—made me happy. today has been quite long! woke up, took an hour to really fully wake up. i think i’m gonna wake up earlier for whatever time i have left here. but anyways, i had crises, in my head. cried. was worried about urop things (silly thing to be worried about, because i can stop, whenever i want). felt stressed about spending my dad’s money (he told me that’s silly as well, i’m blessed). felt like this spring, i might be doing too little, or too much. but really, i just have to go with the flow. i have a hard time doing just what i feel like. a lot of times i also shouldn’t do just what i feel like because sometimes that’s rotting in bed while it would really make me feel a lot better to get up and do something. talked to f about all the things i want to explore in the spring, and iap. i think my theme for 2023 is play. to approach things curious, wanting to learn more. really, i just want to try my best. a year of play is a year for process, because that’s where most of the play takes place. this iap, i’ll go to the rink, because i need to move my body, and i made a commitment. i’ll also go to the building 4 practice pianos. asked j for a recommendation for what i should learn next, and he recommended me the polonaise by chopin that people call adieu (op posthumous). i’m excited to learn it. it’s something i’ve heard before for sure, but it’s not like liebestraum, or clair de lune, or these other even more famous pieces. even though this one is famous as well. i think i have a better time learning things that not literally everyone around me knows. it takes a little pressure off, and i feel like i’ll be able to play around with it a lot and come up with an interpretation of it that feels good to me. of course, i don’t actually know how far i’ll go with it, but i’ll try my best. at least for iap. anyways, those are my two independent projects, though i may also ask r or j for help with piano. other independent projects might include knitting a balaclava, or drawing, or just listening to music and observing the world. observing the world is a forever ongoing independent project. as for non independent projects, maybe i’ll learn to paint. i think that would be quite fun. told f that i had been thinking about light, and maybe that i was also thinking about ceramics and painting. but that i’m really resistant to starting things on my own, especially when things require me to buy things. f offered his paints that he bought recently, and also to teach me. since i am not alone in this, i think it may actually go somewhere. that might be another big thing for iap. also, since my dad told me to worry less about money, if there are any art classes that require money, i’ll just spend it. i’m looking forward to these things! scared, in a way. but i’m always doing things that make me scared. maybe not really, but in general, i am able to do things that make me scared. i consider this a positive thing. tomorrow, i’m gonna wake up early so maybe i can go out to lunch with my family. in the afternoon, i have an interview for an internship at the film fest in armenia. i’m not really nervous, but i do wonder if they’ll really think i’m suited for the position. i’ll just write down here all the reasons i want to go:

(i get too distracted on my laptop but anyways) i want to do something different freshman summer, because in the future i’ll be doing more work things. i want to go somewhere to challenge myself in a field that is different than what i may work in in the future, because it will still be relevant to my life.

armenia: in a beautiful region of the world i don’t know much about.

i want to learn more about what makes people. what drives people. lightness and darkness, good and bad, what people think, what people feel. the people i know just in the us and thailand are so different already. and i’ve learned so much just from what’s around me. i think i could learn a lot by being in a region that i’m completely unfamiliar with. i specifically want to learn more about the arts in that area, and the types of things that connect to armenian people. while a lot about everyone is the same, culture matters. where you are matters. i just want to learn

i think that having this general understanding of people allows me to approach the world in a better way. i want to make a clearer picture of how i want to spend my days.

i’ve written for my school newspaper before, and i have an interest in the arts. i’m a hard worker! [examples] and i will be able to live up to the tasks they give me

i think i am setting myself to be very lonely, and i am setting myself up to have to make new friends. i wonder how. i do wonder why i want to put myself through more pain. i think it’s out of fear.

i’m gonna try my best not to think too hard about these things. it’s a year of play. but even being free feels so unnatural to me. it’s like that passage from 1q84—it’s so hard to learn to be anything else. like i would shatter if i relaxed. but it’s okay. i’m working on it. i realized, when i texted j (not all these letters are the same person please remember) that when i go back to boston, i probably won’t see as much of the sky. i’m gonna make an effort to keep looking up.

#writing #long #journal #mine

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kaoarika · 1 year

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Honest question, has anyone had this “Wacom_Tablet.exe not found” window before?

“Windows cannot access to the device, the access route or the specified file. It could be you don’t have the appropiate rights to access this element”. (more or less in English?)

And the tablet (Intuos, Intuos Pro, and/or Cintiq) still works?

Like I have mentioned before, it’s weird issue thing between Microsoft and Wacom, and this window is a little pesky persisting one (this is the third time it started appearing between changing laptops, reinstalling Windows 10, in, what? 4 years?).

I have read about ppl finding it and also not knowing what to do (or maybe it also became quite usual they don’t bother). I have reinstalled the Wacom driver once before and it kept appearing... and oddly enough? Even if this silly window appears, I have managed to get the tablet working as always, so I tried to not bother to do much after it... I mean, I did try to get rid off this issue with no success whatsoever (although I think a previous version of the Tablet driver DID mess up with my Tablet settings, and, who knows, maybe it’s the reason my old Windows 7 laptop started lagging up towards its last legs, even though it was an already old laptop with its own bunch of issues). So, I’m at a loss of words here.

This window appears just after I start on the computer, and I GUESS, sometimes it does appear before I shut it down and I’m not able to click it off since it shuts down quite quickly :’D. It’s a mess and I know, that whenever I install the Wacom tablet driver, this window is going to make its appearance rather sooner than later (usually 8 months after the fact, for some godforsaken reason? Coincidentally after that amount of months???)

My brother has an even older Bamboo tablet and he did tell me he had a similar issue with his old (Windows 8.1) laptop, until he basically got rid off of the driver... and just when he installed it on his work computer (with a Mac iOS), he had to uninstall it since it was making Adobe programs hard to work with, I GUESS no one is a winner (and yes, I know, it IS a Bamboo tablet model, relatively 10+ years old at this point, while my Intuos is fairly recent, but it is already 5+ years old).

Whenever I start having this thing, I always put my mind on actually getting a non-Wacom tablet next time (once I also have a new laptop, lol OTL), because it’s been 5 years and I always have to go through the same sh*t over, and over, and over. So, I also ask: what kind of alternative brands to Wacom for drawing tablets would you suggest me to get in the future?

Honestly, I have even though of getting a tablet to draw on it, but honestly I’m a potato on what art programs work there besides Procreate and maybe Medibang? (and I’ve heard that CSP manages a different license than the ones for PCs/Mac... but also, CSP is going through a quite weird time with their new subscription models and other sh*t annoucements no one is liking, so, lol)

I’m tired of this nonsense, once again, and I’m not a fan of “installing, uninstalling, reinstalling” especially when, in this case, it doesn’t fix anything and I have had several issues that made me (unavoidable) move to another laptop AND had to reinstall its OS because it had an issue beyond my control...

#kao's nonsenses #wacom tablet #wacom intuos #I DO want to know what are the better alternatives to wacom because i feel like i'm cursed to live through this in the close future #I love my tablet and I have used it A LOT in the past 5 years #but also... this ongoing thing between MS and Wacom is tiring af

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sukirichi · 3 years

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sweet lies (m.)

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. oral (f receiving), fingering, slight body worship, public sex, multiple orgasm, orgasm denial, dirty talk, praising, titty sucking, nsfw, toxic megumi, fwb, slight angst, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 and thank you to besties nie and ellie for editing this STOP SHOWING YOUR ANKLES CHIRREN

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Megumi slides your shirt down your shoulder to press kisses on the bare skin. Your head tilted to the side to give him easier access. You hate that you feel so weak around him, your hands gripping his thigh you’re currently straddling, already so breathless from his teasing ministrations.

“You should move back closer to campus,” he mutters at the juncture of your neck, pulling another soft gasp from you the moment his fingers dip inside your damp underwear. You feel him smile at your skin, using his deft fingers to push two of them inside your sopping hole. He pumps them in slowly, teasingly slow, coaxing your arousal to coat his fingers while you grind against his palm, eyes shut tight from the pulling knot in your stomach.

“It’s hard to fuck you when you’re a half-hour drive away.”

You scoff against him and roll your eyes. “I wonder why I got kicked out from the dorms in the first place.” Exactly two weeks ago, Megumi snuck in drunk and horny into your dorms, shaking you awake to get rid of his boner.

It was a sloppy quickie, mostly because he’s eaten brownies and got fuck drunk before stumbling beside your bed. The insensitive idiot left his rum bottle under your bed just as he wobbles back to his frat house, and as if things couldn’t get worse, there was a surprise dorm inspection the next day. Not only did they find cum stains all over your sheets, but your bed also reeked of weed and alcohol, resulting in a quick expulsion from the dorms.

If it weren’t for the help of one of your professors, Gojo-sensei, you wouldn’t have been able to find a decent, cheap apartment. It came with the price of rooming with one of his old acquaintances, a muscular, heavily tattooed guy who seemed to be a few years older than you.

He really wasn’t a bad roommate. Other than the fact he seemed really intimidating, the dude mostly kept to himself, either locked in his room or away for work that you don’t really get to see him that much. His place was decent too, your room bigger than the last, so it was a good deal, but as Megumi said, it’s really hard to fuck around when you’re so far away.

“Not my fault, you’re so weak for me, baby,” he taunts as you tighten around him, his pace increasing with his lips sucking love marks on your skin. You can’t help but snicker at his actions; if you didn’t know better, you’d say he was jealous.

But this was Megumi you were talking about – everyone knew he never got jealous.

“I don’t like you here.”

“Aw, sucks for you.”

“I’m serious,” he grips your waist tighter, drawing a drawled-out moan from you. Megumi rubs your clit with his thumb and swallows your moans through open-mouthed kisses, your fists balled into his hoodie. Fuck this, you’re completely aware he’ll never like you the way you like him, but it’s so hard to feel sad about that when he’s knuckle deep inside you and playing you like a violin. As much as you hated him and his pretty face, you have to admit his fingers were fucking magical.

Megumi nips at your lower lip before thrusting his fingers in and out of you at a numbing pace, not taking long until you’re creaming all over his hands. You pant at the orgasm, head falling back into his shoulder.

He brushes your hair away from your eyes and kisses the side of your head, the gesture way too sweet for someone who insisted on a ‘no-strings attached’ sexual relationship. But you don’t complain – this is like a dream come true for you – allowing him to leave a trail of kisses down your jaw instead, his wet hands squeezing your thighs in a possessive grip.

“You should just live with me. I’m not comfortable with the fact you live with a man.”

There’s a trace of jealousy behind his voice that you’d normally swoon at, but he’s pushing you to the edge and fucking around with your feelings so much that you can’t even enjoy the rare moment. You push yourself off him and reach for your discarded shorts on the floor, sliding the material over your legs while Megumi shamelessly stares at your ass behind you, his head resting on his hands.

“Megs, I barely even talk to the guy; he’s always away at work. You’ve really got nothing to worry about,” you tell him, making quick work of tidying your school packets just to ignore his heated gaze. “Besides, you and I aren’t even dating. Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“You never hold back with your words, huh?”

You shot him a look, an angry glare that should be threatening, but the glint in his eyes just tells you he’s enjoying every second of it. “You like it.”

“Hmm, maybe I do,” Megumi tugs you back to the bed, effortlessly, as he flips you under him. In this position, he’s situated right between your bodies, hands clasped against one another. He’s absolutely stunning, bathed in the sliver of the moonlight, in your bed, no less. You’re a flurry of emotions – stuck between wanting to fuck him and kissing him, and then scream at him to let him know he should stop playing with your heart.

Megumi’s eyes darken as he traces over your silhouette, watching the way your chest falls heavily at his touches. He uses one hand to trace the tip of his finger from your breast down to your clothed core, a smirk painting his lips when you buck your hips up at the contact.

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him.

“Just promise me you’re not letting others see your pretty pussy okay?” he tugs your shorts to the side, tongue darting out to lick at his lips at the sight of your glistening folds. You’ve lost count of the times he’s made you cum tonight with just his fingers; the raging hard-on hidden behind his sweatpants is proof that he’s quite different today by letting you get fuck-drunk on him first. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping you so helplessly wrapped around his finger, fucking you good enough that no one else comes second to him, and he knows this. He sees this from the desire pooled in your eyes.

Megumi scoots down lower to stare at your pussy, which is already embarrassing since you’re so wet down there. He simply sighs at your bare cunt before him, using two fingers to pull the lips apart, followed by a groan at the apparent slick. “This is all mine.”

In your lust-filled haze, you scrunch your eyebrows and sneer, “How about you mind your own business?”

“The fuck did you just say?” he chuckled, his warm breath tickling your inner thighs. “You’re mine, babe. Haven’t I fucked you enough to drill in that in your pretty little head?” Megumi doesn’t waste his time diving straight to your eager, awaiting core. Your hands fly down to tug at his hair as you grind your hips to his face, legs weak from his lips wrapped tightly around your clit. “You know I’ll get mad if you touch anyone else.”

“Fuck off, Megumi,” you spat out, “We’ve been fooling around for a year, and you still refuse to date me every time I ask you out officially. Listen, I understand you’re not ready for that kind of relationship, so you could at least respect that you don’t get the exclusivity of keeping me all to yourself.” Truly, this rebellion is so uncalled for and unexpected. The moment you had your eyes on him and made it your life’s mission to win him over, not once had you complained that he never wanted to take things a step further. But it’s been too long, too fucking long, and too many no baby’s already – your pride was beyond crushed. It was about time you set the boundaries this time, and you quiver around his skillful tongue, strong and firm as you rasp, “I’ll fuck whoever I want.”

“You’re lying.”

“What?”

“You love me,” Megumi pulls away from your clit with an audible pop, his face glistening from the smeared juices all over his cheeks. However, his eyes are narrowed, almost as if he’s scrutinizing you. You can’t focus on the fact he denied you of your orgasm because he’s looking at you so seriously, only to tilt his head to the side, a smirk playing on his lips. “It’s written all over your face.”

“Maybe I do, but are you deserving of it?” you push his head away and ignore the aching in your chest. Megumi shuffles close to you, pulling you in for another cuddling session before you hide under the sheets, making it clear you were not to be touched anymore. “Go home, Megs. I’m tired.”

In all honesty, you want him to stay. You want him to fight harder to win your approval back. He’s not a big cuddler, more of the type to pass out beside you after he’s gotten his own orgasm, but you’ve been so sure that maybe he might be different today. Under the sheets, your lip trembles in anticipation, eyes blinking wide at the dark silhouette outside your metaphorical shield. But as Megumi playfully slaps your ass, his warmth leaving the bed, you’re not really surprised.

He never stayed the night before – why would he do that now?

Silly girl, you chastised yourself.

“Fine. But I’ll be back tomorrow,” you hear him scuffle for his shoes outside, a smile evident in his voice as his words float around the silence of your apartment. “Wear my favourite set like a good girl for me?”

“Go away!”

Megumi’s laughter echoes all the way to where you curl yourself into a ball. You hate that his laughter alone makes your heart skip a beat, even if it doesn’t carry any affection behind then. “See you then, baby,” is all he says before the door slams shut, leaving you alone to your thoughts and insecurities all over again.

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

You’ve really hit rock bottom; that’s the only explanation for your actions. Megumi was coming over in a few hours, unsurprising that he chooses 3 AM of all times. Not only did it mean his frat brothers would be asleep, but it also meant that his other side bitches would assume he’s doing the same. You know, of course, you fucking know you’re not the only one, but it didn’t hurt any less.

The pain just keeps getting worse every time you think of him, said thoughts always comprised with your shirt trapped between your teeth and your hands down your pants. There’s no denying you’re addicted to him, though being addicted to a never-ending heartbreak was a different story.

A story which you’re not ready to find out yet, so you dress up in your sexiest dress and take the nearest cab, heading to a place where you definitely shouldn’t be.

Two more hours before Megumi arrives. Two more hours before you fall into that endless cycle of fucking and him leaving you alone, promising he’ll be back tomorrow, before it all repeats and traces back to square one. He’s not going to stop, and neither are you, so where was any of this supposed to go now? He doesn’t want you, not in that way, that very much is clear – so why was it so hard to let go of him?

Deep down at the back of your mind, you know your answer. It’s because, like the lovesick fool you are, you’re still hoping that maybe someday he’ll look at you the way you look at him.

Fuck it, is all you think of as you flash the bouncer your ID, not missing the way his eyes fall down your tits that are so close to popping out of your dress a minute longer than welcomed. Snatching your card away from him, you push against the crowd, immediately regretting coming here as the loud thumping of music and stench of sex and alcohol washes over your senses.

You make a beeline for the empty bar, save for the bartender who had his back turned to you as he wipes the glasses over.

You clear your throat to make your presence known. The first thing you see is a broad back, thick lines of dark tattoos outlined even in his white button-up shirt. He places the glasses down and moves expertly before you, sliding shot glasses next to others before procuring a drink out of nowhere, a greeting about to leave his lips when you both make eye contact.

The drink stays still on his hands, blinking for a moment at your equally stupefied face before he says, “It’s you.”

“S-Sukuna,” you greet back, smiling at your roommate. You’ve barely seen the guy the past few weeks other than sleepy good morning’s, and I’ll take the trash out tonight before both of you disappeared into your own worlds.

Sukuna is...well, you don’t know, exactly. It’s not like he’s around much for you to make a proper judgment of, but he’s a pretty nice roommate, filling up the fridge whenever you guys run out of beer. There were times he nods at you as a greeting before leaving for work, too, leaving you alone at the house from midnight all the way to the morning. Other than thinking your roommate is pretty unique from his face tattoos and roguish handsomeness that contrasts his rather frequent sleepy mumbles, you’ve failed to realize he could actually be like a normal human. Seeing him stand before you, his forearms lined with veins and his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, taut waist emphasized by a black vest, you swallow audibly.

He’s entirely different from the guy you often see passed out on the couch, but it’s a welcomed sight, nonetheless.

Sukuna’s actually...pretty hot.

Hiding the thumping of your heart – whether out of nervousness or it’s just trying to match the beat of the music – you beam up at him, eyes glossed over with curiosity as he reciprocates with a more mischievous grin.

If he’s easily read your mind that you are indeed attracted to him, he makes no comment about it, focusing on hearing your voice over the music instead.

He leans over to you, not pulling away even as your lips faintly graze his ear. Fuck, he’s got piercings too. You greedily drink in his masculine scent, thankful that the music thumping is so loud he won’t hear the frenzy mess inside your ribcage.

“I didn’t know you worked here. Heck, I didn’t know you were a bartender, but I guess the irregular sleep patterns make sense somehow.”

“What did you think I was, sweetheart?”

His deep voice reverberates all the way down to your toes, his throaty chuckle hoarse. “I-I don’t know,” you pull away nervously, blinking up at him way too innocently. “A gangster, to be honest,” you blurted out. Sukuna tilts his head to the side, and you immediately raise your hands beside your head as you mull over how offensive your words might’ve been. “I don’t mean anything offensive by it, I swear! It was just my first impression!”

“First impressions are usually false. Anyway. It’s fine,” he shrugs, resuming his task of wiping over the glasses.

His hands were so big, his fingers long and slender...your attention is drawn to the adept manner of how he wipes the cloth using the tip of his finger, reaching behind him to get another glass, all without keeping his eyes off of yours. It leaves much room to muse about what else he could do with those hands, and you squirm at your seat, opting to look at his face instead since that would be more polite than eye-fucking his hands.

Sukuna smirks, that cunning twinkle in his eyes matching the dim lights of the bar. Somehow, you suddenly feel so lightheaded.

“If it makes you feel better, I thought you were a shy girl at first, but your boy toy brings a different side of you every time he comes around.”

You squeak in embarrassment, “You’re home by then?!”

“Only sometimes,” he reassures with a laugh. “But I’ve heard enough,” Right. He’s older and definitely more experienced than your sexual escapades with Megumi – this must be nothing new to him by now, and yet, your skin flushes heated. “Don’t look too flustered, sweetheart. It’s not the first time I’ve heard of that,” he nods at you, “You don’t look very happy with him, though.”

“Tch, now you’re assessing my relationship status?”

“I don’t have to,” he shrugs, the gesture so damn reassured. Chuckling at your apparent frown, Sukuna shakes his head to himself. “It’s written all over your face you’re not satisfied with something. You wouldn’t be here if you were feeling good in the first place.”

“How much have you heard?”

“Oh, I don’t care about how you scream his name. That’s none of my business,” he grumbles under his breath rather bitterly – but that could just be the music messing with you. Sukuna holds your gaze as he sets the final glass down before you, his elbows languidly resting on the counter that separates you both. You’re left staring at him in wonder, watching the way he pours the drink right in front of you, the movement of his lips so intoxicating and even erotic you nearly didn’t hear him say, “But as your roommate, I wish you’d stop inviting him around and just kick him out already. He doesn’t like you, you know.”

He doesn’t like you. Megumi doesn’t like you – you know that already.

Glare deepening at your surprisingly nosy roommate, you take the glass from him and down it in one go. Sukuna’s brows shot up in awe, arms crossed against his puffed-out chest as you slam the glass down.

You were fuming.

“You don’t know a single fucking thing about me.”

“That’s right, I don’t,” he answers without skipping a beat, “But we men, we understand each other,” You open your mouth to retort, silenced by Sukuna’s finger pressing against your lips. You freeze at the contact, and Sukuna makes use of your state, continuing right where he left from.

“Listen, take it from me as free advice. I’ll even put your drink on the house.”

Really, nothing is stopping you from biting off this guy’s finger, but he looks like he knows something you don’t that you just choose to keep your mouth shut.

Satisfied at your decision, Sukuna smiles sweetly, reaching over to tuck your hair behind your ear. The gesture puts you under his spell, and he lingers there a little longer, massaging the lobes of your ears before he pulls back just as fast, almost as if he never touched you in the first place.

You fight back the urge to huff.

Why were men so complicated? One moment, they were hot, then cold the next. You would just never get it.

“That guy you’ve been mooning over for who knows how long? He doesn’t give a fuck about you. You’re just someone who warms his cock every now and then, but I guarantee he’s thinking about someone else in his head when he’s with you,” he announces straightforwardly, not giving you the time to recover before he shrugs like his words didn’t just slap you in the face. “Just call quits on him, sweetheart. There’s really no need to waste such a pretty face. Ever heard of the saying – there’s plenty of fish in the sea?” he pushes another drink to you, “Drink up and loosen a little. With a face and body like that, you’ll find someone better soon.”

“I highly doubt I can find someone better when all everyone sees is my appearance.”

“I don’t,” he hinted with dark eyes, “But I assure you it might be what people see first. You do have a face of an angel; men are into that shit.”

Taking the drink from him with a loud sigh, you feel yourself weaken. You bury your head in your hands, replaying all the memories you’ve had with Megumi. It’s foreseeable that almost all of them consisted of you two fucking, nothing but a faint memory of two where Megumi actually cared enough to perform aftercare. The thought makes you wince; he really is an ass, but you’re also so hopelessly infatuated with him that you refuse to acknowledge the truth.

“Megs and I...we’re just complicated, okay?”

“Sure.”

“I swear!” your defenses are hopelessSukuna’s knowing smirk, the man holding back a snigger from your silent rage. “Besides, maybe his disinterested nature is what made me attracted to him in the first place. I like the mystery. It’s not bad for a girl to enjoy searching for answers every now and then.”

“Except he’s already given you a concrete no, and you’re the only one still hanging onto him,” he reminds you. At your dropped jaw, Sukuna has the audacity to wink. That motherfucker –“Pressed a button, kitten?” he pats your head, leaving you to be even more riled up. “Don’t be sad. It’s not like he’s the only guy who can make you feel good.” As if a light bulb went up in his head, Sukuna hid his smile by turning his back to you, pretending to be engrossed in the drinks all laid out in front of him. But even with his face obscured from your view, his words rang thick and clear: “In fact, I bet you your cute ass someone else can change your former perspective on what pleasure really is.”

“Yeah, like who?” you snorted sarcastically, “You?”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he faces you, absolutely shameless as he eyes your cleavage. Sukuna clenches his jaw at the tempting view before him, sliding his gaze back to yours to look for the answers in your face. “If you want a demonstration, that is.”

Sukuna hasn’t really touched you or even spoke explicitly, but you’re breathing hard anyways, subconsciously clawing the countertop.

You don’t know if it’s your voice or his that’s ringing your ears, the words what’s holding you back? the last thing you hear before grabbing him by the collar, leaning over the counter to taste his lips. Sukuna smiles at the kiss, his large hands cupping your face in them. His thumb traces circles over your jaw as you greedily suck on his lip, uncaring that you’re making out with your roommate in a public place.

As if remembering that he’s still at work, Sukuna pulls away for a moment, diving in for one last peck that has you giggling adorably. Sukuna’s grin grows wider at your flushed cheeks, snapping his fingers at someone from a distance. “Geto, break!”

The guy who must be Geto popped his head out of the backroom, frowning at Sukuna’s words when his gaze lands on you and the not-so-subtle needy grip you have on Sukuna’s collar. His mouth forms into an ‘o’ shape before he gives a thumb up, disappearing afterward.

That’s all Sukuna needs before he’s leaving the counter, breathing in your panicked squeals as he picks you up, your legs flailing to wrap around his.

You’re giggling and laughing all the way to the back of the club, your hands tugging at his undercut and his own squeezing at your ass. Sukuna kicks the door of the restroom open, which is thankfully clean (you made the right choice choosing a luxurious club), settles you down before him, and locking the stall.

His lips are on yours in an instant, his hands tugging off your dress and scowling at it as if it’s offensive. “Calm down,” you tease him, “They didn’t do anything wrong.”

“They were a fucking tease the whole night,” he glares at the lacy cups of your bra, his breathing laboured as he cups them. You throw your head back until it thumps at the door, teeth muffling the moans that threaten to erupt. Sukuna unclasps the material in one swift movement, surprising with just how many times he’s done this before. “Fucking gorgeous tits – why the fuck does your boy toy not want to keep you to himself?”

“He’s – oh fuck,” you scrape Sukuna’s scalp, his tongue wrapping around the swollen bud. He caresses the other one not to leave it unattended, and he’s grinding you against the door so hard, his dick poking at your dress leaving very little to the imagination.

Sukuna chuckles at your broken response, rutting his hips in such a sensual manner you didn’t think he was capable of. “You were saying?”

You glare at him from under your chin, but he can’t take you seriously while he’s sucking at your tit like a child. This man is brave enough to nip it with his teeth, the sting making you hiss and buck against him. “He’s possessive,” you breathe through your mouth, a little in disbelief you’re casually thinking about him while Sukuna gets down on his knees. “He wants me to be exclusive with him, but he’s free to fuck who he pleases.”

Sukuna rubs both palms in front of his face as if preparing to devour a meal, which he’ll do so soon enough. He pushes your dress and bunches it at your waist, tugging your underwear to the side before he groans. The sound is so deep and masculine, so utterly frustrated for some reason you can’t understand.

“Now that’s unfair,” he mumbles absentmindedly, peppering your pelvis with kisses. The feverish touch of his warm lips on your already burning skin has you clutching at the door, feeling your legs weaken.

His eagerness and distrait acts of body worship drive you crazy. Megumi is good at making you feel desired and fuckable – that much you know from his habits of pushing his pants down at pretty much anywhere as long as you were around, claiming you’re a walking ‘boner trigger.’ Sukuna, on the other hand, was a lot more patient and attentive to his movements, taking the time to make you feel you were more than just a body and a hole. It’s odd, hella fucking odd, because this man is older than you and a friend of your professors, but did you care? No. Did you want him to fuck your brains out in a public restroom? Fuck yes.

A wanton moan paints the wall as Sukuna slides your thong off just above your knee, his eyes closed as he buries his cheek in it. You look down with wide eyes, hands grabbing at nothing and everything at the same time. From the looks of it, he’s sniffing your sex, the sight so outright erotic that you only moan louder.

How was it possible to be this much turned on?

By the time he’s opened his eyes, his entire demeanour’s shifted. Gone was the enthusiastic and sly bartender, now replaced with a much more animalistic entity residing beside it.

Before you could make yourself comfortable, Sukuna hooks one of your legs over his shoulder, the tip of your heel grazed against the tight walls of the stall. He licks a flat stripe from your hole that clenches around nothing, moving upwards in such a passionate, languid manner he’s making you forget you’re literally in a fucking restroom. Your breasts heave up and down from how you’re struggling to breathe, his tongue pushing past through the tight ring of resistance until he’s plunged through your core. You wobble above him, remaining upright only by his arm pushing your back flat on your under boob.

Sukuna slurps at your cunt yearningly, the hums he gives every now and then, making your core vibrate. You grind your pussy on his face, the black marks lined on his face glistening.

He moves to suck at your clit, transitioning after each beat to slurping the swollen bud and kissing your lips as if he was making out with it. You’re sure you’re making a mess on his face, but he doesn’t give you time to feel embarrassed about it. He spreads your legs further until your muscles ache from the stretch, the pain accompanied by your stomach tightening.

“S-Sukuna, oh, oh yeah,” you bang your fist on the door, his smug chuckles sending you over the edge. Your pupils blow wide as you feel the impending orgasm weigh down on you heavily, about to send you into overdrive by his tongue swiping at your lips, teasing you to give it to him more, give it to him harder. Turning your head down to warn him you’re coming, the words die on your throat because he’s already looking at you, his cheeks and nose smothered with your shining slick, and the brat is smirking. “Shit, you’re a little—” Sukuna cuts you off by generously sucking your clit one more time, pulling the muscle taut just to show you that it’s rolling between his lips. It looks fucking insane and filthy that you come right there and then.

Your orgasm is so strong that you actually slip from your heels. A scream from you is knocked back into you just as fast, Sukuna moving quick and graceful in one fluid movement. He catches your leg and shoves you against the door, gripping at your hips until you’re bending forward, ass perked, and wiggling just for him.

For a split second, you’re sure you hear the unbuckling of a belt, but it all fades in your clouded mind.

Sukuna enters you in one thrust, the sensation of being filled up so soon rendering you speechless. Literally absolutely silent, palms flat on the door and tongue lolled out, all the burning in your body focused on your centre.

He releases a grunt at finally being inside your plush, warm walls. Sukuna allows you to get used to his length for a solid minute, both of you catching your breath in the meantime. Your tits are sprawled out, and you’re a shaky mess, feeling nothing less of dirty yet so aroused that you can’t do anything about it. Sukuna thrusts in slowly at first, and that’s when you feel the size difference between him and Megumi. Megs was definitely blessed in the dick department, and he’s always been so cocky about it, but goddamn, Sukuna was beyond huge.

You think you could cum again just from him filling you up. He was stretching you out so well that he leaves behind a faint burn, making you feel as if it’s your first time all over again – all for the good reasons.

He soon begins to set his pace, one of his hands tugging at your ponytail so he could see your glossy eyes and mouth hanging open. Sukuna scoffs at your fucked out state, too cock-hungry even to form coherent sentences. His length is slipping past your folds in such a tantalizing, delicious state, the prominent veins of his cock kissing the bumpy ridges of your walls. He was right – you’re definitely changing your perspective on pleasure because you don’t think you’ve felt this good in your life.

With Megumi, it was mostly always about his own release. With Sukuna, he’s making sure you get to feel inch by luscious inch slipping out of you before he slides them back in, his deep moans the dirtiest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Aw, look at you,” he coos, kissing you sideways sloppily. Sukuna reaches the edges of your lips but licks at your skin anyway. His canines revealed to graze at your skin. It’s so animalistic, so carnal, and he’s fucking you with such primal need that you forget everything you once knew about sex. “Your pretty pussy is drooling for cock, sweetheart. Such a dirty little thing, taking me like this.”

Now, this was lust as its purest form, the rhythm of his hips so sinful you’ve lost faith in everything but how he’s making you feel.

The walls are pounding with the bass boosting outside, but soon even the loud volume of the synthesized music is drowned by your whimpers. Sukuna lets go of your hair to place his hands on your hips. If he was dominant before, he only encourages you to scream his name louder, realizing that he was still being nice seconds ago, but now he’s the one controlling you.

He pounds roughly into you until you’re crying, your drool dribbling from your lips and small patches dropping to the floor. It’s the same with your cunt. You’re so wet that you can feel squirts of cum staining his pants and your legs. Sukuna doesn’t stop praising you on how you’re so perfect, how your cunt is the tightest he’s ever fucked, and now he gets why your boy toy could never really let you go. In the middle of it all, he manages to slip in a comment that maybe Megumi’s dick isn’t big enough to stretch you out because you’re wrapped around him like a vice, to which you respond that he’s just massive.

“Fuck yeah, I am,” he agrees cockily, eyes narrowed at where his length kept being swallowed by your pussy. “I’m fucking destroying you, sweetheart. You’ll be broken by the end of this, fuck.”

His words are like ambrosia you’re getting drunk on, the filthiness of his mouth fuelling your desire. Your body heats up at the same time that familiar tingling tightens in your stomach, and you blindly stretch your arm out behind him. Sukuna easily reads your mind and takes your hand, looping his fingers with yours. His palm is right above your knuckle, and the angle hurts your arm so bad you cry harder.

“Please, please, please,” you beg him and snap your hips back to meet his dick thrust by thrust, “I’m so fucking close, please—”

“I got you, sweetheart,” he leans down for a quick peck at your hand, increasing his pace as he twitches inside you. Sukuna is thrown off rhythm by the way you grip down on his dick harder, his breath stuttering as a result. You wrap your fingers around him as your second orgasm that night crashes down onto you in waves, his cock on the brink of being spent from how you’re milking him.

He pounds deep and slow into you, relishing in the warmth of your cunt that he’s losing his mind, basically in the same state as you are now. You’re panting and sweating, cursing at each thrust, and he stills for a moment, pulling out so fast that you wince at the emptiness. Sukuna pumps his dick with his free hand and shoots his load onto your back, his moans guttural and hoarse. You grimace at the warm cum now coating your back because there’s no way you’re using your dress to wipe that away.

Sukuna chuckles at your silence, probably noting in the way you frown at him. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he runs a hand through his hair, his cock growing hard despite releasing a huge load. “Next time, I’ll cum in your mouth. I want to see you swallow me like a good girl.”

“Next time?”

You think you’re so sly by scoffing at him, but Sukuna isn’t stupid. He sees the way you light up at his implications, and he walks closer to you, a hand wrapped around your throat before you pull you flush against his chest. You gasp at the lack of air, blindly patting behind you, but your hand only grazes at his cock, which twitches excitedly at the contact.

“Yeah, next time,” he affirms with a low growl, licking from your jaw down to your neck. It’s so hot, he’s so hot, and you’ve never felt this sexy in your life that you soon become on par with him, pussy clenching around nothing. “I’m not done with you yet. You’re not leaving unless I’ve changed your mind,” he teases the base of your throat to squeeze it tighter, the swift movement of him filling you once more escalating to a tenfold. Your struggle to breathe causes you to clamp down on him hard and Sukuna’s chuckles falter into a quick inhale that’s so satisfying to witness. “What do you think? Still need more demonstrations?”

“Yes,” you choke out. Sukuna’s victorious and award-winning smile is hidden at the sweaty column of your neck where he leaves little kisses in its wake, ones that soon turn into something of a harsh bite. “Yes, please, show me more. Need you, need you so bad, you fuck me better than he does.”

Sukuna does more than show you that night. He makes you feel a thousand more nerves set on fire until you’re nothing but a moaning mess. After all, what better way to change someone’s mind than to mess with it on the inside?

In the end, when it comes down to it, your lies were way too sweet – and he was too addicted to make you stop.

#megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi x reader smut #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader smut #fushiguro megumi smut #fushiguro megumi x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #sukuna x reader imagines #megumi x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #ryoumen sukuna smut

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integra1127grimmreaper · 2 years

Text

The Replacement - Part five

Negan Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 4

Warning: swearing

"So, who's brilliant idea was this?" Negan asks you while busy drawing out measured patterns on the cloth material in front of him.

"It was mine" you explain, "clothing is starting to become scarce these days, yet there's tons of clothing materials still available. When I was on the road by myself, I took close notice of the things people left untouched during the start of the fall. Cloth and machinery were left behind. People only thought of the then and now when it came to survival, not of the future yet to come." Negan nod his head in agreement then.

"So, how is that ya know how do all this shit? Ya ex-military, you can cook and now I hear ya good at sewing too. Not only are ya a badass but ya wifey material too-" Negan smirks at you.

Tilting your head to the side with a raised brow, "now don't be getting any ideas in that head of yours" you wave your index finger in warning.

"What the fuck that supposed to mean?" Negan raise his hands up in defence. "Oh, I've heard the stories about you and your harem of wives."

"Aw, shit! They told you about that, did they-" Negan shoulders slumps in defeat.

"I know everything yeah. I also know the story of how all this came to pass" you spread your arms out indicating the jail cell, "I also know of what a regular Casanova you were."

Setting the material aside, Negan lets out a heavy sign. "Ok. I'm going to level with you on the whole wives thing. I ran my community on a point system, people had to work for things they wanted or needed and the work was hard. Those women weren't made for such work and I couldn't just give them supplies without the rest of community having a bitch fit about it. I would have had a mutiny on hands then. So, I made those women my wives because I knew they wouldn't survive on their own without me doing so."

"I can see the logic in that" you nod your head in understanding.

Letting out a sigh of relief, Negan explains further "and the killing of those two men, my hand were forced in that situation. Rick them had broken into one of my outposts, where they ended up killing every single one of my men and they did it while those people were sleeping. I had to get vengeance for the loved ones of those butchered men."

The atmosphere becomes quite then as Negan and you continue on working. After a few hours of working, you pack up in order to go and make lunch.

Halfway out of the door, you turn back to Negan, "I'm not judging you for your past actions. Honestly, I would have done the exact same thing if I was in your position. We've all done some bad shit in order to survive this new world but that doesn't mean we can't change."

Later that evening

"You're really good with the kids" Negan remarks trying to make small conversation while you guys are having dinner.

"I guess so-" you shrug your shoulders. "No. Really, you are. I watched you through the window and the kids really seem to be enjoying themselves during your training" Negan argues the fact.

"Well the kids are much easier to train than the adults. They don't try to instruct you on how to instruct them" you chuckle.

"Yeah, the adults here can be a bunch of asshats" Negan mumbles in agreement.

"Hey! I'm an adult living here" you respond giving Negan the side-eye. "And besides it's not all of them, it's just when I first arrived a few of the men had a problem with a newbie instructing them on how to better their combat skills"

"Fuck. Shit. I didn't mean it in that way. You're not an asshats. As a matter of fact, I like you very much..." Negan stammers trying to get himself out of trouble.

"So... you like me, hey? You like me very much-" you silly grin at Negan.

"You've been nothing but nice to me. We get along quite well. You're the closes thing to a friend I have right now. So, yes... I do like you" Negan confirms with a smile of his own and the two of you continue on eating.

After dinner Negan and you spend some time playing scrabble and chatting. "Clitoris? Seriously Negan?" with a raised brow you shake your head at him.

"What?? It's a valid word-" Negan shrugs his shoulders in defence.

"I totally should have seen that coming" you chuckle. "Yeah. You should have-" Negan snickers, tongue poking out as usual.

"So, I couldn't help but notice that you're doing the training close to home now" Negan remarks glancing up at you through lowered lashes.

"Yeah. I thought I'd provide you with some action filled entertainment while you wait for my return. And it's easier for me if I need to check up on you during that time" you respond.

"Oh, it's definitely entertaining. Especially when Judith is knocking the bigger kids off their asses-" Negan cackles out.

"Yeah, she definitely puts her all in when it comes to kicking ass" you chuckle thinking about it.

"Now, if ya want to hear some drama. Then you should sit under my window when people sneak off close to here, forgetting about my existence and think they're having secret conversations" Negan comments with a snicker.

"Negan! You're listening to people's private conversations. That's so wrong-" you reprimand him.

"What?? Then they shouldn't be standing so close to my window. It's not my fault if I accidently found out Rosita is pregnant and the baby ain't Gabe's" Negan shrugs his shoulders defensively.

"What?! No- way- Seriously?" you gasp out in shock. "Yup-" Negan nods his head, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Curious as hell now, you move in closer to Negan, "So, who's the father?"

Tongue poking out with a huge smirk across his face, "what do I get in return if I told ya?"

"Oh... so, it's like that now-" you state eyeballing Negan. After some time thinking it through, "argh... ok. What do you want?" you finally cave in.

With a broad smile Negan stares back at you, "how about a kiss-"

Giving Negan a side glare, "was this your plan all along? Are you even telling me the truth about Rosita?"

Clutching at his chest in a hurt manner, "I'm fucking offended that you think I would do that" dropping his hands, "it was worth a shot though-" Negan grins at you then.

"Negan!" you let out a giggle at his antics. Chuckling along with you, Negan inhales deeply and with a much serious face looks at you, "seriously Y/N. I would never lie to you, ever."

Without saying a word, you get up from your seat, grabbing the keys and unlock the cell door. A very confused Negan gets up from his seat as well when you enter the cell.

Negan towers over you, a look of utter confusion in his eyes as he tries to figured out what was happening.

Staring back into Negan's eyes, you gently cup his cheek. And with a gentle smile, tilting your face upwards; you place a soft kiss against his lips.

Pulling away from the kiss, "I like you very much too Negan" you state.

Seeing that you had caught him off guard, you slowly step back from Negan and exit the cell while he just stood there like a dumbstruck statue.

Feeling a bit uneasy at Negan having no reaction to the kiss, you silently pack up, avoiding eye contact and head for the door.

As you were about to open the door, "Siddiq" you faintly hear Negan speak up.

"What?" you turn around to face him. "Rosita's baby daddy is Siddiq" Negan replies.

Staring at him for a few seconds, and with a knowing smile you respond, "goodnight Negan-"

"Goodnight Warden-" Negan smiles back you.

Part 6

Tag list: @rockey258 @ultrasweetnephilim

#twd negan #twdfanfic #twdlovestory #negan x reader #negan x y/n #The Walking Dead #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #negan #JDM

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huge-enthusiast · 3 years

Text

MIRACULOUS FIC RECOMENDATIONS!! (Part 2)

You can find part 1 here.

The first one was really popular! So I decided to make a second part.

The rules are the same:

All of the fics will be rated Teen and up audiences or lower. Also if I don’t put the author’s tumblr is because they didn’t put it in the fic or/and I couldn’t find it.

The only thing that changes is that I would be putting the pairing in the description of the fic.

Without further ado...

Written in the Stars by Boogum (@botherkupo here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Marichat and Adrienette.

He was the god of destruction. She was a princess whose kingdom had been prophesied to fall. To save her people, she became his wife. To save him, she would have to do the impossible. The castle has secrets, the gods are watching, and time is running out.

Chapters: 37/37

TW for mild violence.

Arrange marriage, God AU. While I'm making this list, I still haven't finished the fic, but I had to recommend it because is THAT good. The way I gasped out loud while reading some of the plot twists. The worldbuilding is so good, and even if you aren't into AUs that deviate a lot from cannon like me, I 100% reccomend it.

Need a Lift? again by Boogum.

Pairing: DJWifi

Getting stranded on a foreign planet sucked. Luckily for Nino, his rival was willing to give him a lift home. Unluckily for Nino, she was beautiful and funny and he might just be in love with her.

Chapters: 1/1

Space Bounty Hunter AU! Really sweet and funny. If you are into flustered!Nino then this fic is for you.

hey, you by peachcitt (@peachcitt here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Adrienette

“Have you ever had a dream about someone that changes the way you think of them?”

or Adrien has a dream about Marinette.

Chapters: 1/1

Okay so, peachcitt is one of my favorite ml writers. Everything that they write is sooo good y'all, and i'm already a sucker for adrienette, so I cannot recommend this fic (or any of theirs) enough.

double dare again by peachcitt (I told ya!)

Pairing: Ladrien (with lots of sided ladynoir)

“Don’t ever do that again,” Marinette says, maybe a little too emphatically, and Adrien looks at her, his expression quiet. His cheeks, Marinette notices, are a little red.

“But I wanted to save you,” he says.

or Ladybug and Adrien can't seem to stop running into each other. (whether that is on accident or on purpose is nobody's business but their own, of course).

Chapters: 30/30

This was a ladrien june fic! Every chapter corresponds to the day's prompts but it also continues a story. If that doesn't make you want to read it then I don't know what it will. I fear fanfic writers, they're insane.

(not) so much by therentyoupay (@therentyoupayfanfiction here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Marichat and adrienette

(The claws are sharp, but the host of Destruction—for all of his loudmouth chaos and lack of reserve—is paradoxically careful.)

Chapters: 1/1

In which Chat Noir pays a visit not long after Marinette has made a pretty difficult decision, and they accidentally make a routine.

Prompt: Marinette gives Chat a hickey. Adrien has a suspiciously similar looking hickey the next day at school...

Gotta be honest with y'all, I did not expect this fic to be as good as it is. The adrienette has everything a stablished!Marichat should have. Marinette conflicted with her feelings? Check. Adrien being a hot mess bc That's My Girlfriend But She Doesn't Know That? Check. Them being absolute idiots? Check. It's good!

Doctor, Doctor, Give Me The News (Your Lips Is The Only Cure I Could Use) by BreG21.

Pairing: Adrienette

Rainwater sloshed up from the pools they had made on the sidewalk and coated his jean pants with every step he took. He couldn't bring himself to care.

He sniffed away some of the water that dribbled down his matted head. "Yeah?"

He paused as if to consider his words while Adrien stared down at him, so lost. "You weren't wrong when you thought you knew. A part of you wanted it to be her, but it was too perfect, you let the illusion fool you because how would you get that lucky. But trust me, Adrien. You weren't wrong."

He wasn't wrong? What was he not wrong about?

You weren't wrong. You want it to be her.

And it finally clicked as a small gasp wisped past his lips. He wasn't wrong.

In which, Plagg falls ill, and with Fu gone and Ladybug being the guardian now, has to go find her civilian self-even with the knowledge that she might not like that-is shocked to realize that even with having the kwami that was supposed to embodied the very being of bad luck, Adrien could conclude the very opposite of what he had thought for so long.

He was so very lucky.

Chapters: 1/1

I screamed so hard while reading this fic. It's just one of those who gets the characters right. Do you like a good reveal? Go read this now.

Operation Mega Sleepover by InTheWild (@smellerbeee here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Adrienette

When Alya and Nino drop out of their long awaited mega-sleepover at the last minute, it leaves Marinette and Adrien alone together for the night. An Adrinette one-shot with lots of fluff and sleepover shenanigans.

Chapters: 1/1

I just,,, I love adrienette fluff so much,,, I love them,,,

You, Me & A Little Bit Of The Future by joonapeach.

Pairing: this is a fortunate case of all lovesquare shenanigans™

Marinette expects some disaster on her first outing alone with Adrien.

She just doesn't expect that disaster to be her future self passing off a baby for her to take care of with Adrien.

(Alternatively... two idiots obliviously in love cooing over their daughter while acting like they have no idea whose kid this is.)

Chapters: 1/1

I think the description says anything that it needs to be said. It's really sweet and funny and I love how they just change their minds so quickly and get emo for literally nothing. Peak shakesperean dumbasery.

The entire Marry That Girl series by Miraculous_Max (Maximilian_Alexander).

Pairing: Adrienette

Let’s say Marinette has a special sketchbook. This sketchbook is filled with drawings of their future house, of Adrien as an adult in multiple occupational settings, of Marinette and Adrien’s wedding, and most importantly, their future children.

Let's say Adrien found this sketchbook.

Works: 8 (All are 1/1 chapters)

Just realized how this list exposes me as number 1 adrienette sucker... oh well. I love how Adrien doesn't feel weirded out by the intensity of Marinette's crush. He likes it! He's as weird and romantic as her! That's one of the reasons I love the lovesquare so much and it makes me happy to see that everyone is in the same boat with me.

Strenght by 11JJ11.

Pairing: Adrienette

Marinette knew she was much stronger than she looked thanks to being a hero. So when her class had an arm wrestling contest she knew that she could beat all of them with ease, but she wasn't expecting anyone else to come close.

Chapters: 1/1

Good ol' accidental reveal feat. the entire class shenanigans. I, once again, screamed for an adrienette fic. Who could've thought.

Super Fan by Taliax.

Pairing: Ladrien

It was a good thing Alya was holding the phone and not her, because it would have slipped from her fingers and shattered. How had she not noticed? She had been there, and somehow she’d missed her crush looking at her like she was an angel sent from heaven.

Forget the perfume ad. This picture was going to be her new desktop.

(In which Marinette realizes that she and Adrien might both be obsessive fans.)

Chapters: 1/1

Canon divergent from after Gorizilla. They're so dumb. That's my opinion on this fic.

How to Kiss Your Crush in Five Minutes or Less also by Taliax.

Pairing: Ladrien

He just needed to know if Ladybug needed Chat Noir. He didn't expect to learn just how much she wanted Adrien.

This would be the best five minutes of his life, if he didn't expect her to forget it.

Chapters: 1/1

CW for making out.

Set during Desperada. I promise there's a happy ending. Also Luka is there for some reason, felt really bad for him.

Laying Down the Rules: The Gabriel Agreste Clauses by LadyKae

Gen

Adrien leaves the manor on a dark and stormy night and seeks sanctuary at the only place he feels safe: The Home of the Dupain-Cheng Family. When Sabine learns why her dear boy is fleeing to her home in the middle of the night, she makes a personal visit to one Gabriel Agreste.

There's more rules in play, but not for Adrien and Marinette.

Chapters: 1/1

This is just Sabine going to beat the fuck out of Gabriel and it's really satifying ngl

4am. by hannieks

Pairing: post-reveal lovesquare

In which Adrien has the cat tendency to wake up their owners at stupid o'clock, and Marinette just wants to sleep. Cuteness ensues.

Chapters: 1/1

Really short but really sweet. If you like Adrien acting like a cat then you would like this.

Can I Date You(r Character)? by midnightstarlightwrites (@midnightstarlightwrites here on tumblr!)

Pairing: Adrienette

Adrien turned to her, something unreadable in his gaze. “Are you ok with this?” he asked.

And what a loaded question that was. Was she ok with it? Was she ok with the one guy she couldn’t seem to get over in real life kissing her in a game of Dungeons and Dragons? When she put it like that, it seemed a bit silly to get so worked up.

It was just a game...right?

She was ok with it, right?

“Sure,” she lied. “I’m ok with it.”

When Adrien's character falls in love with Marinette's, they decided to date in-game. What could go wrong?

Chapters: 7/?

THIS ONE IS SO CUTE. You want to scream??? Read this.

two idiots and a hamster by Boogum (again) and carpisuns (@carpisuns here on tumblr)

Pairing: Adrienette

How do you hide your superhero identity from your roommate? (spoiler alert: badly)

Chapters: 5/?

Once @anna-scribbles described this fic as "is literally the closest i’ve ever seen a fic come to matching the energy of canon", and I couldn't have described it better.

And that's all for now! Next time I will probably make an only DJWifi list since I've been treating them so dirty lol.

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saintlike78 · 3 years

Text

Bad day [D.M.]

Parings: Husband! Draco Malfoy x fem! Reader

Words: 2.2k

Summary: Y/N comes home from work after having the worst day and doesn’t want Draco to see her sad, so she decides to go past his office without greeting him. Draco thinks she’s being bratty and goes to punish her but finds her crying and comforts her instead.

Warnings: NSFW 16+, shower sex, praise kink, slight breeding kink, slight fingering, unprotected sex, reader being sad.

You loved your job, it made you so happy, most of the time, but today you wanted to either scream, cry or pull your hair out, purely out of frustration.

Closing the front door gently, hoping your husband wouldn’t hear you come home, you quietly remove your shoes and coat.

Usually, you loved coming home after a long day of work to see Draco, working away in his home office, or with dinner ready for you to eat together. Today was different, you could feel a breakdown slowly creeping up on you and you really didn’t want to burden Draco with a crying mess, when he was also stressed with his own work. You knew Draco would always comfort you when you’re feeling down, but it still made you feel guilty.

Moving your feet quietly down the long hallway that led to your bedroom, but said hallway unfortunately also housed Draco’s office. The door to his office was open and you could hear him typing away on the keys of his computer, soft music filling the background. During any other normal day, you would make your way into said office and greet him with a kiss and sometimes you would stay and watch him until he was done with work, making this a little routine.

As quickly as you possibly could, you breeze past the office, praying he was too busy to notice you.

Alas, this is Draco we’re talking about, so of course, he noticed. He had heard the front door click shut and heard your soft footsteps make their way down the hall, he had expected them to lead to him, but was very surprised when your figure passed by the door, without even a small greeting. Furrowing his brows, Draco shut his laptop and stared at the doorway, almost expecting you to come in laughing because he was half expecting your action to be a joke. When you didn’t appear, but instead heard the water from the shower running, coming from the bathroom connected to your shared bedroom, he could feel the annoyance building.

You weren’t exactly a stranger to being a bit bratty, to rile him up, so Draco’s mind instantly jumped to this conclusion, maybe you just wanted attention and that was exactly what you were going to get.

Getting up from his office chair, Draco made his way into the bedroom where he could see your work clothes thrown haphazardly in a path leading to the bathroom.

Smirking, he opened the door as quietly as possible, as to not alert you of his presence and he slowly slid into the bathroom.

You were in the shower, facing away from him, the water engulfing your head to muffle out the sound of the outside world, your salty tears mixing with the warm water from the shower. You knew Draco would probably hear the shower running, but that he hopefully would be too busy with work to think about it.

Ridding himself of his own clothes, Draco’s mind was racing, thinking of what kind of punishment he would bestow upon you for ignoring him.

Walking behind the glass of the shower, Draco stood and took a moment to admire you from behind, thinking about how lucky he was (and also about ravishing you, but mostly admiring).

“So, what makes you think it’s okay to ignore me, darling?” Draco started, finally announcing his presence.

His voice behind you startled you a bit and made you jump slightly, but you still didn’t turn around to meet his gaze, not wanting him to see you bawling your eyes out because of something as silly as work.

When you didn’t turn, Draco just assumed you were testing his patience, so he walked closer to you, so close you could feel the heat radiating his body.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, I don’t appreciate this bratty behavior,” he said as he grabbed your arm to get you to turn around, but you just shook your head.

Draco was suddenly confused; normally when you were being bratty, you would always come with a snarky comment or directly test his patience, not actually ignore him.

He grabbed both your arms, forcing you to turn, and that’s when he saw your red puffy eyes, he only assumed they were accompanied by tears, but the water from the shower disguised them. Your body was quivering slightly as you took shaky breaths, still not looking him in the eye.

“Darling… what’s the matter?”

You shook your head again, knowing that if you started talking your voice would break and a fresh set of tears would make their way out. Draco just took your body and wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tightly against his bare chest.

As soon as his arms were around you, you buried your face in his chest and the tears started again, making you let out small sobs against him.

Stroking your back gently he tried getting you to talk again, “baby, can you tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you? Was it something I did?”

“No,” you hiccuped as you spoke, “you didn’t do anything… I just had a very bad day at work, and I didn’t want to bother you while you were working.”

“My darling,” he cooed, “I’m always here for you when you’re having a bad day, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t come to me… you’re not a bother, I always want to help you feel better.”

Retracting your face from his chest so you could look at his face, finally meeting his eyes, still in his arms, you gave a small nod.

“Do you want to talk about what happened?” he asked, still stroking your back.

“Not right now,” you started, your tears having calmed down, “I just want to not think about it.”

Draco nodded and smirked slightly. “I might have a way to take your mind off it.”

You shook your head, trying to hide the small smile that was working its way onto your face.

“Oh? And what might that be?”

His smirk only grew at your response, “I could wash your hair.”

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head once again at his little game.

“Okay, you can wash my hair,” you said and tilted your head up slightly and puckering your lips, silently asking for a kiss.

Draco grinned and bent his head down to meet your lips in a short, but loving kiss.

Grabbing your shampoo from the shelf he squirted some in his hand and brought it to your hair, slowly lathering it up and massaging it in. You let out a sigh of contentment, enjoying the way his long slender fingers worked their magic on your scalp.

After rinsing your hair of the shampoo, applying conditioner, and rinsing that as well you thought you would be done, but Draco, as always, had different plans.

“Now, darling, your hair is nice and clean, but we’re still missing one step,” he said with a smirk and a playful look in his eyes.

You cocked your head a tad, asking him a silent question with the action, wondering what he had in mind.

Smirking even wider, he grabbed the small showerhead and also turned off the overhead shower. Turning on the smaller showerhead and setting the water pressure to the highest setting, it clicked in your brain what he was going to do, and your stomach flipped with excitement and you could already feel your arousal start to seep out.

Gripping your waist, he held you close, but still left a gap between you, making room for the showerhead. Slowly, he brought the showerhead over your stomach and guided it downwards, pausing right above your heat, but not for long. Finally, he brought it down so the water could hit your clit perfectly, making your breath hitch and then letting out a long breathy moan. The pressure from the water was making your knees quiver and you reached one hand up to grab Draco’s shoulder and the other gripped his bicep to keep yourself upright.

The moans you were letting out were going straight to Draco’s, already painfully hard, cock.

“You make such pretty noises, princess.”

Getting closer and closer to your release, you started to slowly move your hips to create a nice pulsing friction against your clit. Draco, of course, noticed and smirked, your moans and whines enough confirmation that you were close.

“You gonna cum for me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer from the way your grip on his shoulder and bicep was tightening more by the second.

Nodding, you let out a breathy whine as your orgasm finally took over, making your knees quiver and body shake with pleasure. If Draco hadn’t been holding you up by your waist, you surely would have crumbled to the ground.

Draco turned off the water for the small showerhead, but turned the large overhead shower on again, as for you not to freeze.

“You did so good, my good girl,” he said, leaning down to kiss you all over your face, “you ready to take my cock, angel?”

“Yes, please Draco,” you whimpered out, very desperate for him to fill you.

He chuckled at your neediness but nevertheless brought your back towards the wall.

“Jump, baby.”

Doing as you’re told, you jump slightly. Catching you, Draco makes you wrap your legs around his waist.

With one hand on your waist, holding you up, he uses his free hand to guide his length between your soaked folds, slowly entering you.

You both let out simultaneous moans as he enters you, his hand now going under your thigh as he starts moving in and out of you at a steady pace.

“You feel so good, always so good and tight for me, my darling,” he groans out.

“Faster, Draco, please,” you manage to get out between moans.

Draco doesn’t need to be told twice. Picking up his pace, his hips move faster, chasing your second high of the evening and his own.

You’re a babbling mess, leaning forward to kiss him before burying your face in his neck, lightly biting down.

Draco lets out a particularly loud groan at the sensation, feeling himself grow closer to his orgasm. Reaching between the two of you, he finds your clit and draws circles, wanting you to finish before he does.

You let out a loud moan and without warning your orgasm washes over you, making you see stars, whilst your entire body shakes, gripping Draco’s back so hard, you’re afraid you’ve drawn blood.

Hearing your moan and feeling your walls flutter around him, Draco himself is brought to his end. Dick twitching, you feel him release inside of you.

“Yeah, take all my cum, you’re gonna be so full,” he groans as he pumps slowly in and out of you, making sure you’re nice and filled.

Emptying completely inside, he slowly pulls out, earning a low whine-esque moan from you, and helps you down on your feet. He stabilizes you, with one hand on your hip and crouches down, and enters two fingers in your already very sensitive cunt.

“No, too se..sensitive,” you whine out.

“I know, my baby, just want to make sure you’re nice and full,” he coos, looking up at your blissed-out face.

Deciding that you’re full enough, Draco pulls out his fingers and stands up, guiding his fingers to your mouth beckoning you to open, which you gladly do. Taking his fingers in your mouth and sucking lightly, to clean them, you look up at Draco with the most innocent look you can muster, even though what you just did was very far from innocent. He lets out a groan, his eyes rolling a little back and his head also falling a little back.

“Are you trying to kill me?”

You smirk a little and he removes his fingers.

Leaning down, he kisses you again, this kiss slow and passionate, thumb slowly stroking your cheek.

After cleaning you up, Draco jumped out of the shower, drying himself off before grabbing you a towel and letting you dry off, while he went to your bedroom and rummaging through his closet for a jumper, for you to wear.

Finally satisfied with the clothing option he picked for you, he quickly pulled on a pair of underwear and sweats, before making his way back to the bathroom.

Watching in silence as you pulled on the (very skimpy) pair of panties and the jumper he had picked out, he was just admiring you, doing the most mundane thing, but to him, you were just ethereal.

“Come on, darling, let’s go cuddle and you can tell be all about who I have to hex for you,” Draco said, making you chuckle.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him, before he could guide you out of the bathroom, you puckered your lips, indicating the fact that you wanted a kiss.

Chuckling, he bent down and lovingly pecked your lips.

“Thank you for always cheering me up, my love,” you said as Draco began to lead you to the bedroom and towards your shared bed.

Draco smirked, “anytime, princess,” he winked.

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x you

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littlepadika · 3 years

Text

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

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