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#although i don't think you asked for that
ssahotchnerr · 2 days
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i rlly wanna see how aaron would react to reader accidentally starting her period and leaking on his white sheets. i just know he would be so caring and conforming !!
stains
he soooo would cw; fem!reader, period talk, blood mentions, language, fluff <33
Even on the weekends, Aaron doesn't tend to stray from routine.
Apart from setting an alarm - he presses a kiss to the first patch of your skin he can find, rolls out of bed, and then opens the blinds so the morning light can naturally assist in waking you. Trailing into the en-suite bathroom, he hears you let out a gentle squeak, stretching from your laid position in bed.
He preps his toothbrush, blinking once, twice, in attempt to rid the heavy sleep from his eyes. Brushing his teeth is number one on his morning agenda; not only because it was the hygienic thing to do, he simply could not stand having horrid breath.
Despite the brushing sounds echoing in his head, he doesn't miss your low,
"Shit."
"Honey?" His attempt to speak was muffled, as his toothbrush was in his mouth. He tilted back from the sink, just enough to allow him to peer into the room, to see you.
You were sat upright, a handful of sheets in hand, meeting his eyes guilt-stricken. "I'm sorry. It wasn't due for another three days and you know I'm typically always on schedule and always prepared-"
"Hm?" Freeing his mouth from the toothpaste, quickly flicking the water on/off to rid the residue and wiping his mouth with a washcloth, he re-entered his room.
As he came closer, your flushed cheeks were vividly noticeable, the remorse in your eyes even more intense. You clarified, "My period."
"Oh," his expression softened, before alternating to deep concern. "Are you alright?"
"Am I alright? Aaron your bed-"
"What about it?"
"It's stained - the sheets. Fuck," you scrambled up, not wanting to ruin them further, wincing in pain as you did so. You quickly padded past him to the bathroom, the plush carpet soft under your bare feet. He followed behind.
"And? Sweetheart if you think I care about that," he chuckled, sweetly shaking his head. "Do you have...?"
"In my bag."
Feminine products - Aaron redirected himself, finding your overnight duffle tossed hastily near the foot of his dresser. As he rummaged through it, he mentally cursed himself for not already having a supply waiting under his sink, and mentally added such to his future shopping list.
He grabbed the other necessities - an extra pair of underwear, t-shirt, opting to grab your favorite pair of shorts from his drawer. One he hadn't worn in quite a while as you had claimed sole ownership.
You sheepishly accepted the items from him, refraining from lifting your gaze. "Thank you."
"Hey," With a finger he lifted your chin, causing you to meet his soft, brown eyes. "It's okay."
You shook your head in shame, prompting his hand to fall.
"It's your body. It's natural. It's- this is not an inconvenience to me, it is for you. Plus, this is exactly what they invented stain remover for."
Despite yourself you laughed, wrapping your arms around your middle. "I suppose."
The ends of Aaron's lips itched upwards, successful in his goal to crack a smile. Although, his amusement sobered back to concern, "You never answered my question from before. Are you alright?"
You grimaced. "Crampy."
"Advil then?" Aaron asked and you nodded. He placed his hand on your lower abdomen soothingly, the warmth of it calming your tensed muscle. That was the thing about his touch, it never failed to relieve any aches or discomfort, physical and emotional. "And a bath? I recall you saying that helps, with easing the pain."
"Please."
He quickly obtained the pain reliever, started the bath. "Don't worry about the sheets, I'll strip and get 'em in the wash. Hand me your clothes too." He ran his hand under the stream of water, regulating the temperature as you immediately began to protest, claiming, 'it was your mess, your doing,' but Aaron kindly shut you down, "Nope. Let me handle it, I insist."
"And if the stain doesn't come out?"
"I've been meaning to dispose of them anyway. They're getting old, they've fulfilled their job well." After flashing you a sympathetic smile Aaron stood, his age vaguely showing when his knees cracked as his legs straightened. He placed a kiss on your forehead, hoping to dissolve your current, growing pout. "Just relax."
You willingly met his eyes this time. You tousled his hair, still disheveled from sleep, paying extra attention to the short hairs behind his ears. Your nails scratched at his scalp, expressing your gratitude silently.
"And if it makes you feel any better, this isn't the first time I've had to soak blood from linens."
"It doesn't," you rolled your eyes at his injury-prone occupation, but he did however manage to pull yet another smile from you. A gentle laugh came from deep within his chest at your response. "But thank you."
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ham1lton · 2 days
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QUESTION TIME?
pairings: (platonic) lewis hamilton x f1 driver!reader.
warnings: sexist comments. interviewers asking rude questions.
summary: being the only female driver on the grid means being the unofficial spokesperson for women in motorsports and you’re tired of it.
author’s note: a part of my newest series! i’m still actively looking for more scenarios and ideas regarding this universe! so if u have any thoughts or questions? let me know! i’d love to hear them <3
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“do you worry that being more open and accessible to different drivers will lower the level of competition within formula one?”
the silence could be cut with a knife. everyone in the room looked at you expectantly, eyes wide as they waited for your answer. you took a sip of water as you collected your thoughts.
sometimes, when you were younger and karting, you’d wish that you had been born a boy. that might have been an unpopular opinion but you held it occasionally, although not for the reasons one might think. being a man would have meant that you would have been treated as just another driver rather than a novelty. no one else on the panel was expected to act like a mouthpiece for their entire gender.
taking a deep breath, you composed yourself before addressing the question. "i understand the concern about maintaining the high level of competition within formula one. however, i believe that diversity and inclusivity in motorsports can actually enhance the competition rather than detract from it."
you glanced around the room, meeting the expectant gazes of the reporters and fellow drivers. "by opening up opportunities to drivers from different backgrounds and experiences, we bring new perspectives and skills to the sport. this diversity can drive innovation and push the entire field to new heights."
pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts, you continued, "i don't necessarily think talent and competitiveness are determined by gender or any other factor. it's about skill, dedication, and passion for racing. embracing diversity not only reflects the world we live in but also strengthens formula one as a whole."
as you finished speaking, you could sense a shift in the atmosphere of the room. while your response might not have been what everyone expected, you knew it came from a place of honesty and conviction. and deep down, you hoped that your words would spark a broader conversation about the importance of inclusion in motorsports.
the room digests your response, slowly and steadily until another interviewer speaks up. "i get where you're coming from, but let's be real here. formula one is about pushing the limits, about being the best of the best. we can't afford to water down the competition just for the sake of diversity."
you respected his perspective, knowing that he always spoke his mind but god, if that wasn’t the worst way to word that. "i hear you," you replied, "but i don't see diversity as watering down the competition. if anything, it's about elevating it. different perspectives bring new challenges and force us to raise our own game. isn't that what racing is all about?"
he paused, considering your words. "i suppose you have a point," he conceded, nodding thoughtfully. "but we still need to ensure that the drivers who make it to formula one are truly the best, regardless of where they come from."
you nodded in agreement, acknowledging the importance of maintaining high standards in the sport. "absolutely," you agreed. "and i believe that by embracing diversity, we can do just that. it's not about lowering the bar; it's about expanding it to include drivers who might have otherwise been overlooked."
after a moment, lewis, who had been your unofficial mentor throughout the process of integrating into formula one, raises his hand. he had been listening to the whole exchange with a furrowed brow.
“i just want to echo what y/n has said,” he began. “diversity isn’t a threat, if anything it’s our greatest asset.”
he turned to address the room, his gaze steady. "we've seen time and time again how diversity helps drive innovation and pushes the sport forward. and it's not just about gender or race – it's about welcoming drivers from all walks of life and giving them the opportunity to shine."
lewis paused, letting his words sink in. "formula one should be a reflection of the world we live in – diverse, inclusive, and full of opportunity. and by embracing that diversity, we make the sport stronger, more competitive, and more exciting for fans around the globe."
you smile at that and grin at the interviewer.
“is that a good enough answer for you?” he nods and your remark sparks laughter in the room. after a moment, the interviewers target your peers and you take a deep breath. free at last.
when the interview concludes, you find yourself walking step by step with lewis, who smiles at you.
“you answered those questions well. i’m proud.”
“just followed the hamilton playbook.” you tease. “who knows? maybe i’ll be fighting you for that championship next.”
“i’d welcome the challenge.” lewis laughs, his eyes bright with amusement. “but seriously y/n, never underestimate the power of your voice and your presence in this sport. i always say that the goal is to leave the sport better than we found it, and you’re only in your second season and doing that. i have no doubt you’ll achieve great things.”
his voice is thick with sincerity and he places a warm hand on your shoulder before leaving. as he disappears, a young girl wearing your merch comes bounding up to you. she’s grinning wide with a missing tooth and when she speaks, her accent is thickly american with a strong lisp.
“y/n! hi!” she waves a massive poster in front of you. it has your name, your number and a message of support. “y/n you’re the coolest! will you sign my poster please?”
with a warm smile, you kneel down and grin at her.
“of course! i’d be honoured.” your assistant hands you a sharpie and you scrawl your signature in the corner of her poster. her parents taking a photo of the two of you and then with her parents permission, you sign her hat and her shirt. “thank you so much for all of your support. it means everything and more to me. keep cheering me on okay? i do this for all of you.”
“i will!” she beams. you laugh and pass your assistant her pen. “you’re my hero y/n! thank you!”
she bounces off and her parents wave while saying their thanks. your heart swelled up after that interaction, reminding you as to why you do this. why you deal with all those incessant annoying questions because it gives you the opportunity to help inspire the next generation of young racers.
as you stand there, you see a guy with a camera walking your way. your eyes widen as you make a sneaky escape. today has been filled with enough questions, you think as you hide out in gavin’s office.
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vbecker10 · 2 days
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I Don't Hate You
Pairing: Loki x female reader (y/n)
Summary: You've worked at SHIELD for years and you were severely injured by Loki when he escaped from his cell on the helicarrier. It's been a year since the attack on NY and one day you finally cross paths with Loki after a month of him actively avoiding you.
Warning: Loki being upset, Loki feeling guilty, Loki feeling like he deserves to be hated, brief mentions of Loki's torture, previous injury caused by Loki... this will have a fluffy end, promise 💚
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You shift positions to get more comfortable on the couch then turn the page of your book. I might be able read this whole book tonight, you think excitedly. The Tower was quiet which was a rare occurrence, the whole team decided to go out for drinks so you have the library to yourself. After a moment, you turn the next page but suddenly you feel as if you aren't alone.
Looking up, you see Loki standing in the doorway as if he is frozen with anxiety. He briefly makes eye contact with you and turns to leave.
"Wait," you sit up, closing your book in your lap. "You can stay," you offer and he turns back to face you. "There's plenty of space," you gesture towards the other empty couch.
"I wouldn't want to disturb you," he says, shaking his head as he remains halfway between the hall and the room.
You sigh quietly, that's the first thing he's said to you in the month since you've been back from medical leave. Loki had become almost an expert in avoiding you, the closest you had come to being in the same room with him was during a briefing last week. As soon as you took your seat at the table, he excused himself and left.
He nods in response to your offer to join you but doesn't say anything. He quietly makes his way over to the large bookcases that line the wall and begins to search for a book. You try to focus on where you left off in yours but you can't seem to take your eyes off him. He seems so nervous around you and although you aren't sure what you expected from him, this wasn't it.
He selects a book and walks to the far end of the other couch, glancing towards you as he sits. You both quickly look away from each other and try to settle into your books. After a few minutes of silence he sighs and closes the book. You pretend to continue reading as you watch him return his book and begin the process of selecting one again.
"Can't decide what to read?" you ask after a moment.
He turns, his expression clearing showing that he doesn't expect you to speak to him. He shrugs, "I've read all of these..." He looks at the book he is currently holding, "Some more then a few times."
"Oh," you look at the tall, full shelves. There must be four hundred books in this room. "Wow," you react honestly.
"I read quickly," he offers a simple explanation.
"Why don't you get new ones?" you ask as if the solution is obvious.
He puts the book he is holding away and looks down at the ground, "I'm not permitted to leave the Tower unless its for a mission." He pulls a seemingly random book from the shelf and walks over to the closest seat on the other couch this time.
"Right, I forgot I guess," you suddenly feel awkward for suggesting it.
Loki was given strick orders not to leave the Tower after an incident a few months before you returned from medical leave. He had gone to a small Cafe with his brother in the morning and ended up on the news a few hours later. According to the reports you watched from rehab, he had been on line waiting for his order when a woman who lost her husband during his attack on NYC came in. She walked over to him and started screaming that he was a monster and should be rotting in a cell on whatever planet he came from. Thor tried to defuse the situation while Loki remained completely silent. Her rant finally ended when she threw some bystanders coffee at him and he left.
The two of you sit in silence for a minute then you suddenly get an idea. "Oh," you say and he looks up from the book he has no interest in.
"I think I have something that can help," you tell him. You limp slowly towards him as you unlock your phone. Sitting next to him, you feel self conscious when he shifts away from you, his eyes fixed on the metal brace supporting your leg.
His jaw tightens and his body tenses as he rubs his hands slowly together. You clear your throat, hoping to distract him from your injury and it works. He looks at you, "Here," you hand him your phone.
"What is this?" he asks.
"Its the New York Public Library," you tell him, "Well, their website at least."
He looks at you a bit confused. "What am I supposed to do with this? I'm not allowed to go to the library," he says.
"You don't need to go," you tell him with a smile. "They can bring the books here."
"I wonder why no one told you about this. They've had this for years," you say.
His eyes fill with excitement at the thought of being able to get new books. You explain the book delivery program then show him how to search for books by author, title or genre. His smile spreads as you sign him up for a library card then sit back to watch him scroll through a long list of poets.
The smile leaves his face and he admits, "I never told anyone that I had run out of books."
"Why not?" you ask.
"No one would care," he answers instantly.
When you don't say anything, he looks up from your phone and briefly makes eye contact with you. "I don't understand why you of all people would care enough to help me, to be honest. I have done nothing to deserve even the smallest kindness from you," he says as his eyes fall to your injured leg again. The joy you had seen on his face moments ago has faded completely and in a low voice he says, "I nearly killed you."
With a sigh, he nods, "I remember everyone I've hurt... or killed."
You're caught off guard by the sudden shift in topics but say, "I thought you remembered me."
"Can we just talk for a minute?" you ask, standing with him.
You gently reach out and touch his knee, causing him to jump at the sudden contact. "I'm sorry," he says as soon as you touch him. "I should go," he tells you and he gets up.
He shakes his head. "I'm not supposed to be alone with you," he admits. "Fury wants me as far from my..." he clears his throat, "victims as possible while I am here."
He looks torn about what to do but finally nods and sits down heavily. You sit next to him again but he doesn't look at you, his eyes are fixed on his hands. His knee shakes nervously and you realize he's waiting for you to lash out at him as so many people have in the wake of the attack.
"I- I didn't realize he did that," you say in shock. "I thought you were just avoiding me because of... well because of what happened."
He shrugs but doesn't respond, giving you the feeling that he might still have distanced himself from you even if he wasn't ordered to do so.
You bite your lip and say, "I'm sure Fury means well but... I just want to talk to you. If that's okay with you?"
You had imagined this moment so many times over the last year. What you would say to him and how he would react. You look at him even as he avoids looking at you and say, "I just want to to know, I don't hate you for what happened."
He shakes his head as if he doesn't believe you and says, "You should hate me, everyone does."
"I don't," you tell him simply.
He finally looks at you, a mixture of disbelief and curiosity in his eyes, "How could you not after what I did to you and so many others?"
You sigh and admit, "I used to hate you."
"But... but not anymore?" he asks.
You take a deep breath, this is the part you practiced telling him most often. "When I was in the hospital, I did hate you. I hated you more then I ever thought I could possibly hate another person. I wanted you to feel the pain and fear you inflicted on me when you were escaping. I wanted you to suffer after every surgery, after every fall I had in rehab, after every doctor told me I would never walk without some sort of brace," you tell him honestly and he nods as if he agrees with you.
You pause for a moment and wait for him to look at you again, "It was truly exhausting."
He doesn't say anything but he keeps eye contact with you. "It took so much energy to hate to," you tell him. "It was draining me."
"A few months after my first surgery, I had some of the agents I'm friends with being over your case files and I watched all your news interviews," you continue to explain.
"Why?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.
"I wanted to know if you were as evil as everyone said, if you were really a monster from another world who deserved to be hated," you tell him.
"I am a monster," he says, his eyes lowering to the ground in front of him.
His body tenses as soon as you mention Thanos's name. His eyes widen in fear and he says, "What do you know about- how could you know that? My SHIELD files doesn't contain any information about him."
"No," you tell him, touching his arm lightly and he looks up at you slowly. "You're not a monster, you're a victim of Thanos."
You fidget nervously at his reaction and say, "I... I found the restricted files SHIELD has about you, the ones with your interview-"
He gets up suddenly, his voice laced emotion but you are unsure if he is angry, hurt or embarrassed, "You read that?"
You nod, "I'm sorry-"
"No one was supposed to be able to access that. Fury said it would be sealed, that was why I agreed to tell my brother what happened," he says as he paces. He turns to face you and you can see he is holding back tears, "You shouldn't have read that. I don't want anyone to know what he did to me."
You had read all twenty six pages of the typed transcripts and listened to hours of Loki detailing his torture to Thor. He spoke about being physically hurt but also about being mentally broken by the mad titan. He lost track of time, unsure if weeks, months or years had passed while he was under Thanos's control. By the time you finished listening to his account of what happened, you had lost every ounce of hate you once harbored for him. He was more a victim than anyone.
You take a step towards him and he takes a step back, shaking his head. You reach for his hand and he lets you hold it without pulling away. "Loki," he looks at you, the first tear running down his cheek. "I'm sorry Thanos tortured you," you tell him honestly.
He shakes his head as if he can't accept your words.
You take another step towards him, still holding his hand in yours. "I'm sorry he hurt you," you say again and this time he doesn't move away from you.
"No one..." he tries to take a deep breath, "No one has ever said that to me before."
Now it's your turn to be shocked, "Not even your brother?"
He shakes his head and without thinking, you wrap your arms around him tightly. His whole body stiffens in response at first but slowly, he lifts his arms to hug you back and his body relaxes against yours. He rests his head on your shoulder and you rub his back gently.
You hold him until he slowly pulls away. Taking his hand again, you lead him back to the couch.
"You didn't deserve anything that he did to you," you tell him. When he looks at you, you can't help but raise your hand, wiping a tear from his cheek. He closes his eyes and leans into your soft touch.
He opens his eyes after a moment and quietly says, "Thank you Y/N. I'm so tired of everyone hating me. I never thought anyone would ever try to understand what happened to me."
You smile at him and quickly kiss his cheek, which is a surprise to both of you. "What was that for?" he asks, a small laugh escapes him.
He smiles and nods, "Can you do it again?"
"I don't know," you admit with a nervous giggle, "I just... It felt like something I should do. I'm sorry, was that okay?"
You smile and kiss his cheek again, "Is that making you feeling better?"
"For the first time in a very long time, yes," he says.
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evermoresversion · 2 days
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ㅤㅤ♡⃕ ﹙"slut!", jude bellingham.﹚
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A/N Jude is my newest obsession, so yeah. Expect to see a lot of content on my page about him.
PAIRING Jude Bellingham x Fem!Reader
TW/TAGS Established relationship, use of the word "slut", slight angst, fluff. ENGLISH'S NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.
SUMMARY Even if everyone was against your relationship with Jude, he would still choose you and you would still choose him.
SONG "Slut!" by Taylor Swift.
REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JUDE'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST
Jude was the internet's boyfriend these days, and you knew it perfectly well.
And you also knew that the moment you started dating him, many people would like the idea of it and others not so much.
And you were worried about what those people said, of course you were. You got lost overthinking the situation but then Jude hugged you and it was as if everything disappeared, only the two of you existed in your little love nest.
"What's in that pretty little mind of yours, hmm?" He questioned, kissing your forehead, brushing one of your strands of hair behind your ear.
"It's nothing, honey." You denied, burying your face in his chest, losing yourself in the feeling of his embrace and he didn't press any further. He placed a kiss on your forehead again and rested his head on yours.
That night you both decided to go out to a club with some of his friends, you agreed to go with him because after all you needed to clear your mind from social media.
While there, both of you danced, drank and laughed with each other.
"I need to go to the bathroom." You warned Jude, giving him a peck on the lips and he nodded, giving you another.
"Okay, I'll wait here."
You hummed in affirmation and walked towards the women's bathroom to do whatever you needed.
When you were washing your hands, a black-haired girl came out of the bathroom and although you didn't give it much importance, you noticed her mocking smile when she noticed your presence.
"Slut." She murmured as she passed behind you, leaving the bathroom.
You stopped your actions in your tracks and analyzed her words.
"She just...?" You muttered to yourself, laughing in disbelief.
You dried your hands and left the bathroom, but your heart jumped a little when you saw the same girl next to your boyfriend. She seemed to be a fan because they were taking a photo.
You took a deep breath and walked towards them.
Jude's eyes lit up when he noticed you and he offered you one of his hands so that you could approach him.
"I missed you." He murmured, kissing your forehead. It was something he did often because he knew you liked it.
"Me too." Your gaze was still on the black-haired woman who looked at you up and down with the same mockery as before and left.
"Do you want something to drink?"
"Yes, vodka. Double." You asked, sitting next to him and he took care of getting you the drink.
The hours passed and the more they did, the more you drank to the point that you couldn't even stand without the risk of falling.
"Oh shit." You murmured between giggles as you left the club with Jude holding your waist firmly.
"Come on, this way, pretty girl." He guided you to his car and helped you get into the passenger seat.
The whole way to his apartment you were silent. The nickname the woman had called you echoed in your mind and the contemptuous way she looked at you.
Upon arrival, he once again helped you out of the car and into the house.
Closing the door, he picked you up bridal style and you giggled, resting your head on his chest, your fingers playing with one of the buttons on his shirt.
"I'm a lucky girl, right?" You murmured as he sat you down on the bathroom sink counter.
"I'm the lucky one, love."
He rummaged through your things for makeup removal supplies and you hummed, thinking about your response.
"Nah, I don't think so." you looked anywhere else but at him as he walked over and stood between your legs.
He frowned and tried to meet your gaze.
"y/n, you've been different since you came back from the bathroom, did something happen?"
You looked at him sideways, embarrassed to say your thoughts out loud but you did.
"Do you think I'm a slut?" You murmured thoughtfully.
"Wha...?"
"I mean, I know it sounds bad, but, I don't know," you brushed a strand of your hair that Jude always tucked behind your ear and continued talking. "A woman called me a slut today," you glanced at him again and played with your hands. "The woman who approached you about the photo."
"Babe..."
"Everyone loves you, that was my crime." You laughed ironically. "And if they call me a 'slut' it'll be worth it, I guess."
"Listen to me." He cupped your face by your cheeks and made you look into his eyes. "You are not what they say you are, you are the girl of my dreams." He made small circles with his thumbs on the apple of your cheekbones and you looked at him carefully. "You are beautiful, the purest soul I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, you are everything I need and if my 'fans' don't understand it then screw them, I'm not going to stop loving you because they don't like the idea of it. I won't, I'm in love with you."
You smiled and pressed your forehead to his, affectionately brushing your nose with his.
"Suddenly I stopped being drunk."
You both laughed at the occurrence and you kissed his lips lovingly.
"I'm in love with you, too."
disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.
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Text
"What's up, Supes?"
The hero froze. The file was basically glued to their hand. They looked up, only to find the villain lean against the doorway. They wiggled with their eyebrows, a smug grin on their face and admittedly, the hero had to swallow.
"Hi."
"Whatcha up to?"
"Just, you know...cleaning."
"Cleaning?"
"Yup."
The villain shook their head and clicked with their tongue, clearly not buying any of the hero's lies. It had been a perfect plan. Up until now. The hero cursed under their breath.
"How long has it been? Three months?" the villain asked. They pushed themselves off the doorframe and approached the hero with slow, careful steps.
"Three and a half, if you want to be nitpicky," the hero said. They didn't know what to do with the file in their hands, let alone with themselves.
"Mhmm. So, we haven't seen each other in three and a half months and now you're at my party. In my office. Cleaning."
"You got it." The hero made very awkward finger guns and winked, as if that could come close to saving them.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you?" the villain asked. They laughed softly. "That I wouldn't recognise you?"
The hero shrugged lazily. They were so fucked.
"Ahh, come on. It's not like you weren't hoping for this to happen, huh?" They leaned over the table, one hand on it, the other hiding the file behind their back. "Isn't destiny such a funny little thing?"
"Well, I was hoping to see you again. I didn't want you to steal from me, though." The villain stopped at the other side of the table and leaned forward, almost like the hero. "The file, Supes."
"I don't really like that nickname."
"Superhero. Supes. You'll manage." The villain offered their hand, expecting the hero to give them the file. "I can also call you Darling if you want me to."
Suddenly, the hero's nervousness turned into embarrassment.
"I was on sabbatical."
"Bullshit."
"I was busy...missing you?" the hero tried and at least that worked a little. The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest, raising an eyebrow.
"Go on."
"Oh, you know, I was really busy with superhero stuff. Saving people, arresting villains...and all of that just made me think of you and well, here I am!" They smiled brightly to make an attempt to trick the villain but both of them knew it was a rather sad try. "Surprise!"
"You're adorable." The villain walked around the table and the hero didn't dare to move. "Just tell me you were busy with...I don't know, a certain project I am not supposed to know about?"
Uh-oh.
"Whaat? You're crazy."
"A certain mission?"
The hero panicked. No one was supposed to know about this, least of all the villain. So, there wasn't exactly a solution except for impulsive decisions. The hero didn't always perform perfectly under pressure. Without really thinking, they grabbed the villain and kissed them hard. As a response, the villain hummed quietly. Caught off guard but definitely satisfied. The hero found it quite adorable.
They didn't really know what they were doing. The last time they had kissed anyone was for some publicity a few months ago. But this was different. They could feel their heart rage in their chest, as if they were going to explode any second now. Although they were quite experienced, they couldn't remember this ever happening.
Surprisingly, the villain not only kissed them back, but also pulled them a little closer.
For a moment, the hero lost themselves in the intimacy but then, they pulled out the handcuffs. With a click, they cuffed the villain to their own computer.
"You're evil," the villain whispered against their lips. The hero's hands were shaking. They had never kissed anyone like this. It had never felt like this before. They didn't want to think about the implications.
"I'm your Supes," the hero said. With the villain cuffed, they felt a little more confident. "Don't steal files just because you want to see me."
"Says you."
"This is really important and you should not put your nose into someone else's business."
"Again, rich coming from you," the villain said. They scrunched their nose. "Let me guess, this is too dangerous?"
"Exactly," the hero whispered. "I'll...I'll see you once this is all over."
They took one last look at the villain before they walked out of the office.
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acid-ixx · 1 day
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moaning headcanons a.k.a how loud they moan (part 1)
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: this is supposed to be crack until it became serious and I can't back out. update: i forgot this draft existed so i hope u like me posting old writing (with me expanding on it). ask for part two with specific characters (next part will contain neuvillette) if you will, i dont mind!
tags:top!gn!reader. implied yandere. implied murder. jealousy. masterbation, jerking off to thoughts of you. (no i will not shut up about how nana's (@koinotame) portrayal of childe changed my entire viewpoint of him, he's my murder baby and he knows it.
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— childe : loud. genuinely noisy especially when he strokes himself when envisioning you punishing him. ah, if you're rough enough, he whines and he sputters and chokes. sometimes, he'll increase the volume of his moans just to spur you on. he's a tease and although it's nice to be a good boy— he loves being a brat so you could manhadle him harshly. but when he's lonely and horny, he's always, always not afraid to release his desire. even gagging him with your underwear still wouldn't be enough to muffle his whines and gurgled moans of pleasure. if you hurt him for just the right amount, he'd be cumming even with his dick untouched and that's when he moans the loudest. sometimes, when he feels you don't give him enough attention, he'd be approaching you (and whatever you'd be doing wouldn't matter), latching onto your waist and whining into your ears about how you just haven't been noticing him lately. it's up to you to decide whether you want him kneeling on the hard floor giving you oral or kneading his hard-on through his jeans. just wish whoever your neighbor is a good luck because he won't certainly shut up when he pleasures himself on you. there's times when he's good, when all he does is whine and gasp, but that's only when he stabs his enemies and the crimson seeps into his clothes hard enough for him to feel it damp and stimulate him lightly, thinking of you and your complaints about him staining the carpets again— he hopes you'd use a ball gag this time, with a tight collar while you're at it, just so he could really feel the pain.
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— kaveh : his moans are, well, similar to the moans of exasperations he releases whenever his wallet is empty or whenever his roommate irks him. but when it comes to you, it seemingly amplifies to a more modified, girly shriek and teary eyes. he releases high-pitched whines when overstimulated, when he's on the brink of cumming whenever you jerk him off, or when your tongue ventures through his pecs, circling his areola and ignoring the swell of his nipple; and he's begging you with drool running down his shiny lips to just suck his, his "breasts" (your words, not his!) already! he gasps needily whenever you thrust inside him, releasing airy and rhythmic "ah, ah, ah!"'s with every thrust. every time you hit his prostate, he'll be sucking in a breath and gripping on your back for dear life and begging you to slow down while he pants. his dignified voice loses composure though, whenever he rides you. it starts off with bated breaths until it continues with sharp gasping and girlish moaning. he wouldn't even be aware of his own loudness in the room with how his pleasure drowns out any sort of dignity he tried so hard to maintain. it's not his fault that it's rare for you to keep all your attention to him! and he wants it all to himself. so if that means embarrassing himself for a few days just so you could forget about the man who flirted with you days ago— then so be it! he'll look at you with droopy eyes and quivering lips, begging you for more with a slightly scratchy throat and swollen lips. despite being overstimulated, he could go on for more rounds just for you.
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pomefioredove · 2 days
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Hi! This is very very specific, but…I've had a rough start to my day today, kinda relating to the topic of my request…
So I was wondering, would it be alright to request HCs of Jamil, Ruggie, Leona, Floyd and Rollo with a Reader who runs into an emotionally abusive/manipulative parent they haven't seen in a long time? The kind of subtle abuse that's hard to tell (from the inside, at least) is even abuse at all, and makes you doubt yourself a lot. Kinda narcissistic abuse
Kind of a hurt/comfort thing? Like how they'd deal with the bad parent and the Reader opening up a bit about it. Romantic or platonic, either one is good
Feel more than free to ignore if this kind of request isn't your thing: that's totally fine, I understand it's a bit heavy, not to mention very specific, so please do what makes you feel best. I hope you have a good day!
ahhh of course! I relate to this sort of thing a lot (although I don't use terms like narcissistic abuse since abuse is just abuse to me) and I know exactly what you mean. I love hurt/comfort and you're well within my boundaries since the only thing I wouldn't write pertaining to this topic is intimate partner abuse (like with an s/o). so you're perfectly fine! I enjoyed writing this <3
summary: comforting a reader with an abusive parent type of post: short fics characters: jamil, ruggie, leona, floyd, rollo additional info: reader is not specified to be yuu ("shrimpy" is used as a nickname during floyd's part tho), reader is gender neutral, food mention (ruggie's part), actual interaction w the parent happens during leona and rollo's parts, mentions/descriptions of emotional abuse, although reader is kinda vague about it
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Jamil Viper
Jamil knows what it's like to feel stuck.
That's really all he has to know when he recognizes that look on your face.
Perhaps you usually wear your heart on your sleeves, or perhaps you're better at keeping your emotions to yourself, like him, but either way he can tell something is very wrong the second he sees you.
It's a bit strange, isn't it?
Surrounded by people in the cafeteria and yet no one seems to notice the shadow cast over you.
He tries to talk himself out of it for the rest of the day. He has enough on his plate as it is, and it's not his problem. He's Kalim's keeper, not yours.
But that sense of unease doesn't go away.
He drags himself out of bed and somehow finds himself at your door in the dead of night.
And even though it takes you a moment to answer, he can tell you were already awake.
"Here," he says, handing you a warm meal in a container. "I noticed you didn't eat today. We had leftovers."
You don't feel very much like eating, but you accept the gift, anyway. It smells amazing. His cooking always does.
"Thank you," you mumble.
You can't think of anything else to say.
"Are you... well, Kalim sent me to ask if you're feeling unwell," he lies through his teeth.
"I'm fine,"
Another lie, this time of your behalf, which annoys him ever-so-slightly.
"You're clearly not. Are you sick?" the question is vague enough, said in such a way that leaves you with the impression that he wasn't exactly referring to a physical illness.
"I've... had a rough day,"
Jamil is quiet for a moment, thinking to himself. And then: "Do you mind if I come in?"
He's always so careful with his words that such a direct (yet polite) request almost catches you off guard. You step to the side, letting him in your room.
"I don't mean to pry. I know it's not my place," he says, watching you close the door. "But... Kalim is worried. Yes."
You shake your head. "It's fine. I'll get over it,"
It.
What did "it" mean? Surely this couldn't just be a lousy day.
"Did something happen?"
You hesitate.
"Have you ever... ran into someone who made your life miserable? That you thought you moved on from... and it starts to feel like you're stuck in that place all over again?"
Of course. Of course he knows what that feels like.
He has to live through that exact experience every day, without even being able to move on.
But he can't just say that. And this is about you, after all.
"I'm familiar with the feeling. I suppose that's what's ruined your day, then?"
"That's one way to put it," you sigh, sitting at the edge of your bed. "Sometimes it feels like all the progress I've made is just... null. Like I'll never really move on."
He hates how much he's relating to you. How much you're affecting him, now, too.
He follows you to the bed and sits beside you.
"Someday, though, you will. It may feel hopeless now, but... you won't stay stuck forever,"
Unlike me, he thinks.
"How can you be so sure?"
"I can't be. But you don't strike me as someone to give up after hardship,"
Like me.
You're quiet for a moment, seemingly considering what he told you. And then you hug him.
A nice, soft hug. Not abrasive or sudden like the ones Kalim gives. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.
"Thank you, Jamil,"
He hugs back. "Of course,"
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Ruggie Bucchi
It was almost painful, watching you fumble with your wallet like that.
You couldn't seem to get the proper amount out, shaking like a leaf and apologizing profusely. Sam keeps telling you it's okay, but the line forming behind you is starting to grow restless.
Ruggie included.
He has places to be, after all, and he's got two whole crates of energy drinks to lug back to Savanaclaw.
He has half a mind to ask what the holdup is.
And so, he peers over your shoulder, ready to- oh, no. You're crying.
Damn it. Why can't things ever be easy for him?
He can't even chew someone out for taking up all his precious time without being thrown a curveball. And now he feels bad.
Sigh.
"Hey, I got this," he says, setting his heavy crates down on the counter and flashing a card.
Your eyes widen. "Oh, no, Ruggie, you don't have to-"
"Relax, it's Leona's money, not mine," he offers a grin, ignoring the tears trailing down your face. "He won't even notice it's missing."
The line behind you two breathes a collective sigh of relief (much to your embarrassment) and Ruggie shoots them a glare.
"I... I still can't accept this-" you start, before he quickly shushes you.
"Hey, if you wanna make it up to me, you can help me carry these things. I'll call it even,"
You're silent for a moment as Sam finishes ringing you both up, and then you take a crate. As quiet as ever. It's unnerving.
You're walking back to the Hall of Mirrors when Ruggie breaks that silence by bringing up your purchase. "So, what's up with the afternoon snack? Not that I'm judging- I'm jealous. I skipped lunch, shishishi,"
"Oh, it's nothing," you mutter. "Comfort food, I guess."
The concept of comfort food is extremely appealing to him. "Huh. Long day?"
"Something like that... Why'd you skip lunch?"
Trying to change the conversation topic? Clever. But he'll bite, anyway.
"Leona forgot some of his class stuff, so I had 'ta run and get it. Too bad he forgot where he left it... I was all over campus,"
"Did you find it?"
"Eventually. Or else I'd be busy getting my neck wrung instead of 'bein here with you,"
You nod, and the conversation swiftly dies.
After another awkward beat, he clears his throat. "So you... you wanna talk about it, or something?"
"What?"
"You know, your... your day," he mutters, shrugging. He's desperately trying to remember all of the things his grandma did for him when he was upset as a child. "Talking about it might... make 'ya feel better, y'know?"
You're quiet again, and for a moment Ruggie is worried he said something to offend you.
Then, much to his relief, your voice picks up. "I ran into someone today,"
"What? Like someone was giving you trouble?"
"No, not a student. Someone I don't see very much anymore. Um... I guess it just threw me off,"
He tilts his head to the side. "Why?"
"I don't... well, we don't get along very much. Something about them just makes me feel... very... small. Insignificant,"
You don't ask if he understands what you mean, but he does. Not that he'd ever admit that so openly to you at a time like this, but being small and insignificant is basically his job.
And as much as he likes the perks, he can imagine how rough it would be to deal with that and not get to use a bottomless credit card whenever the opportunity presented itself.
He struggles to respond for a moment.
"That's rough,"
Definitely not the sympathetic response he was going for. At least you don't seem to mind.
"I-I mean, sometimes we have to act small to survive. It's a part of life, 'ya know? But that doesn't mean you are small. Just surviving on its own is an accomplishment," he recovers from his earlier blunder, trying to smile. "You should be proud of yourself, if anything."
"That's..." you say. "That's one way of looking at it."
He sighs. "I'm not expressing myself very well, am I? What I'm trying to say is that you're not small or insignificant, and living life feeling like you are is a survival tactic at best,"
The both of you stop in front of Savanaclaw, and he offers another grin.
"And if you ever wanna talk about this stuff... well, I'm around... And you can come inside now, if you want. I could definitely find more stuff to carry!"
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Leona Kingscholar
Leona Kingscholar is very, very much enjoying parent weekend alone, thank you.
Of course his folks don't want to attend a school event for their disappointment of a second son. Why would they care? And on Cheka's birthday weekend, no less...
But that didn't bother him. Not at all.
As long as he slept through the weekend without being bothered by any happy-go-lucky nuclear family units, he'd live.
That plan lasts about five hours.
"You'd be better off doing something more useful with your time. Sports, or science, or... something that might help your future. But if you're so sure... I suppose it's better to cut our losses now than put any more faith in you. You just can never decide, can you?"
That voice. Unfamiliar, but drawling, laced with poison. Aggravating enough to stir Leona from his nap in the botanical gardens.
And it's getting closer.
"I just don't understand. Why get accepted into one of the most prestigious schools in the world just to spend your time goofing off?" a long sigh. "But as long as you're happy... we just want what's best for you."
Leona grumbles, turning over and trying to drift back to sleep.
"I'm trying,"
This voice is different. No- he recognizes it. It's yours.
"Are you? You know I know what's best for you, right?"
Sevens. This is your parent speaking to you? No wonder you've been acting all jittery lately.
He sits up, giving up on his nap, and continues listening in.
"I know," you say. "I really am trying, though."
"Did I say you weren't? Don't speak for me,"
This is getting ugly. Leona stands, stepping out of the shrubbery and clearing his throat behind the two of you.
You're the first to turn. "Oh- Leona! Sorry, we didn't mean to disturb you,"
"You're fine," he snaps, sharp eyes turning to your parent beside you. "Who's this, then?"
"This is-"
"Their parent," they go ahead and introduce themselves, cutting you off as if you weren't speaking at all. Like you're a piece of furniture hanging in the background. He's not a fan.
"Really? From the way you were talking, I would have guessed that you were their coach. Or boss,"
Your eyes dart between the two. "Leona-"
"You're fine," he reaffirms. "I was just looking for you, anyway. We really have to talk."
You pause, raising an eyebrow. He? Wants to talk to you? Now?
"Is it important?" your parent asks. The question is directed at you, although he answers.
"Very. I was just coming to ask you, very politely, I might add, to reconsider my offer,"
"Your... offer...?"
Your parent looks down at you. "What's he talking about?"
"Can't blame you for forgetting. I'm sure you're busy with all your... school... things. But I do have to ask you to rejoin the spelldrive club. We're in shambles without you,"
He gives you a certain look, one that clearly reads "Go along with it."
Leona Kingscholar offering an olive branch to someone is a rare occurrence. So you take it.
"Oh! Right, I have been busy with school. I've been meaning to get back to you..."
Your parent looks between the two of you with just the faintest hint of confusion, and then frustration. "You've been playing spelldrive? When was I going to hear about this?"
"They haven't been playing with us," Leona says, a small smirk already forming. "They're the team manager. They're way too smart to be out on the field- no, they're running the team, they're organizing everything, their strategy is like nothing we've ever seen. If only they were in Savanaclaw, we might have a chance at winning one of these years."
"Uhhh..." you start, looking between your parent and the oddly friendly and receptive clone that's replaced Leona. "...Yeah, right."
"Now, if you'll excuse us, we really have to discuss official club matters," he says, shooing away your parent until they eventually give in and leave.
As soon as they're out the door, you turn to him. "What w-"
"Are you alright?" he asks.
Stunned would be an understatement. "I'm fine,"
"Really? Cause you're looking at me like a gazelle caught in headlights,"
"I-I guess it's just been hard... having them here,"
Leona nods, closing his eyes as he thinks to himself. Then, he sighs.
"Yeah. I get that. Come on, then,"
You raise an eyebrow as he starts off in the opposite direction. "What? Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet and warm to nap. Being around that person sucked all the energy right out of me, I can't imagine how exhausted you feel,"
He turns to look over his shoulder with a smile. "With any luck, we'll avoid them for the rest of the weekend,"
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Floyd Leech
Of course, he can tell something's up right away.
Well... maybe it takes him a little while to tune into the conversation, but once he does, he notices you've been... awfully quiet throughout it.
His favorite little shrimpy? All sad? Moping around like a kicked puppy?
Now this catches his attention.
"Bored?" he asks. It's his first guess.
"Hm?" you ask, looking back at him. "No, I'm fine."
"But you're not,"
"Okay, I'm a little distracted,"
Now that, he can understand. But there's still something very off about the whole thing that he can't quite put his finger on.
"You're not telling me something," he states, matter-of-factly, crossing his arms.
You raise an eyebrow. "...And?"
"And I wanna know. I'm not letting you leave until you tell me,"
Your thought process is probably ranging somewhere between "oh, no," and "oh NO," by now.
"I sweaaar, it's nothing," you insist. "I just had a bad day, okay?"
"Why?"
There's no turning back now. He's invested, and until he loses interest, you're stuck here.
"It was... just... long. Can I go now? I have things to do,"
He frowns, and stands, and then puts you in a headlock. "Alright, where're we 'goin?"
"FLOYD!"
He drags you along with him, remembering not to be too rough as he takes you from place to place on his dailies. You begrudgingly learn to accept it.
When you walk back into the Mostro Lounge, Azul and Jade don't even bat an eye.
"You're thirty minutes late- ah, why do I bother?" Azul says, rifling through a stack of papers on his desk. He only looks up when he catches a glimpse of you. "Oh. Hello, there."
You wave half-heartedly. "Can I get some help?"
"Floyd. What is the meaning of this?" he asks.
Floyd pouts. "There's 'somethin wrong with them and they won't tell me what,"
"Are they ill?"
You lower your eyes at the two as they speak like you're not even there. "Hello?"
"Nah, they feel fine. They're all mopey, though,"
Azul hums to himself, lost in thought. And then: "Well, figure out what it is, and get to work, if you please,"
"Azul!" you shout. He ignores you.
Floyd drags you back outside the office and sits down with you at one of the tables, waving to concerned lounge-goers as they pass by.
"Now will you tell me?"
"Geez, alright, alright. I give up, you win," you sigh. "I... well, my parent was here earlier. At school. And we talked, and they... said some not-very-nice things to me. That's why I've been upset, okay?"
Floyd's smile immediately drops. "I win? But that's not a very good prize,"
"Tell me about it,"
"Why would anyone be mean to you, anyway? You're the best shrimpy I know!"
You avert your eyes. "It wasn't... mean... per se. Just... not nice,"
"Sounds mean to me," he mutters. "I don't get it."
"Well, sometimes these things just... don't make sense. It's my fault, anyway," you sigh.
His gaze sharpens at that. "'An who told you that? You didn't do anything! I'm starting to really dislike this parent of yours,"
His sudden mood swing doesn't phase you, but it does lift your spirits... just the tiniest bit. Even if you wouldn't admit that to yourself. "Hey, it's fine. I'm over it,"
"You sure you don't want me to squeeze 'em?"
"Heh. No, that's okay. I would like you to let me go, though,"
His eyes widen at the sudden realization he still has you in a headlock and he quickly releases you.
You sit up, stretching and rubbing the back of your neck. "Thanks,"
"My arm was starting to hurt, anyway..." he thinks for a moment, looking back to the office door. "Ya think I can use that to get out of working? I wanna spend more quality time with my favorite shrimpy. You could use it!"
You look to the door and shrug. "Hey, worth a try, right?"
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Rollo Flamme
Out of all the things to ruin the day, of course it had to be your parent.
The disappointment between the two of you was palpable. And even though it was only a brief encounter, it was enough to sour the rest of the afternoon for the both of you.
The first thing Rollo noticed, of course, was the manner in which they carried themselves. As an authoritative, important figure, puffing out their chest and towering over you. What gave them the right...?
They were not a leader, nor a public figure, nor anyone of interest, if your earlier mentions of them gave him any idea. Nothing but an adult who spoke to the both of you as if you were tiny children.
He loathed being talked down to.
Perhaps he should have said something sooner than he did, and perhaps he should have said something more than the interruption he used to excuse you from the conversation.
And now you're just quiet.
"Are you well?" he asks, looking at you from the corner of his eyes.
You shrug.
"I apologize for not speaking on your behalf sooner. I did not want to be rude,"
No response at all.
Your silence was driving him mad. He couldn't get a good read on what you were feeling when you kept looking away like that.
"If you'd like to return home early, I would understand and escort you promptly,"
"No,"
A response. Not a good one, but a response nonetheless.
"May I ask you a question?" though he doesn't really wait for your permission to go on. "Why do they speak to you like that?"
That comment seems to jolt you, and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. "What? Speak to me like what?"
He struggles for the right words.
How could he describe it? It was so... odd. The words they spoke to you didn't sound cruel, but there was something sinister lurking beneath them. And not even in the typical "polite for the sake of it" sense.
Each response they gave was laced with a sort of venom that seemed to sting you. You had grown quiet, distant, as if you weren't really there at all.
Of course he was familiar with such tactics. He could weave his own words with ease. But you had done nothing wrong- you were guiltless. Why were you being punished?
He couldn't quite come up with an answer.
"You seemed uncomfortable," he finally says, looking away again. "I apologize for such an experience happening to you under my watch."
"It's not your fault,"
"It certainly isn't. And it's not yours, either,"
A blanket of silence falls over the two of you until he speaks again.
"You have nothing to feel bad about," he reaffirms.
Another pause.
"And I don't mean to intrude. But if you ever need my assistance, you know where to find me,"
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Text
A Marriage of Convenience
Colonel!König x Vulnerable!Reader
You sobbed, hot and heavy as tears streaked down your face. You looked at the email through bleary eyes one last time before swallowing the lump in your throat and letting out further cries.
Your visa had come to an end and your citizenship status was declined. You had to go back to your home country, back home, away from KorTac, off the Austrian base.
As König walked past the door to the empty teaching room in which you resided he heard it. The high pitched, sniffles and cries. No man on his base could make these delicate, heart wrenching noises, no, he knew it was you. His perfect little recruit, his good girl, y/n.
He stopped at the door to the room, ready to enter but wanting to do so carefully. Now was his chance, you were crying, upset and oh so vulnerable... in need of a big hero to swoop in and save the day. Now, he just had to find out what you needed and he could make all the pain go away...
He pushed the door open tentatively, trying his best not to nearly rip it from its hinges like he usually did. He scanned the room looking for his little girl and there you were curled up at the back, knees tucked against your chest, with your back against a cupboard. He couldn't help but smile at your small, helpless form. Quickly catching himself his face fell, back to its neutral, stoic stare as he shut the door behind him with a click.
You heard the door close and looked up to see the hulking man that was your Colonel walking towards you. Big, heavy combat boots trudging on the ground.
Your mouth fell into an 'o' as you attempted to wipe your tears away, shaky breaths and sniffles, trying to placate your crying.
The Colonel stood before you, looking down before he himself got down in a squat and eventually sat himself in front of you, arms resting on his knees.
"I'm s-sorry Colonel." You manage to stutter out, the tears having ceased but your choked up demeanour remaining.
He gave you a sympathetic smile, it was no secret he had a soft spot for you, although, no-one but him truly knew how deep it goes.
You gave him a small smile back, attempting to put on a brave face. 'Cute' he thought to himself as he tilted his head to the side.
"What's up kleine Maus?"
'Little Mouse', that was his nickname for you. You smiled a little at the use of the name, tears still brimming your shining eyes.
"I- I got an email," you managed to stutter out before the tears ensued once more, "they're sending me back Colonel, I don't know what to do."
You buried your face in your knees once more, breath shaking as you attempted to get some air in your lungs.
You unlocked your phone and passed it to König, letting him read the email.
"I don't want to go back." You said, barely above a whisper as you let out a shaky breath.
"I like it here," you continued, "I don't want to go back home, my parents... they're not nice... and here I get food and, and I have a bed."
You sob a little as you think back to your old life. Although the military was tough, for you it was an improvement, and you weren't ready to give all of this up.
König read the mail before placing the phone down. His eyes narrowed as you said why you didn't want to go back home. It upset him... no, it angered him that your home life could be worse than this. The one place you were supposed to have guaranteed safety and support and you did not.
"What am I going to do?" You said, choked up, lifting your head from your knees to look at the man that loomed in front of you.
"How could you stay?" König asked, already theorising how he was going to fight off anyone who would even attempt at taking you away.
"I would have needed approved citizenship, m- my visa ran out of time." You said, attempting to blink away tears but feeling yourself getting choked up again.
"But my citizenship was declined." You cried burying your head in your knees once more.
König let out a low sigh as he shuffled forward to sit next to you. When his back hit the cupboard that your own one rested on, it shook under the sheer force of him propping himself against it.
He snaked an arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to lean on him. He rubbed the side of your arm soothingly, an expression of distain for the predicament resting on his features.
"O-or I'd have to marry a citizen, but that's not going to happen." You let out a shaky breath, almost like a laugh, as though even the notion was ridiculous.
König's eyes shot open, as if he was having a Eureka moment to say the least. His soothing rubs on the side of your arm stopping momentarily. "A-and why's that not going to happen?" He spoke perhaps too quickly, too eagerly.
You look up at him with a confused expression as if it were obvious.
"I don't have any boyfriend, let alone an Austrian one who would want to marry me in the next," you think for a moment, "...six days."
There is a beat of silence as König collects himself, tries to remain calm and chill.
"I'll marry you."
The air is thick with tension as he awaits your response. You can't believe what you're hearing.
"Really? You'd marry me?" You say softly, looking up at König with awe in your eyes. As if he'd saved you, as if he were your hero.
"But what about you? What if you want to get married for real someday, is there someone you like?" You ask, you couldn't believe he would do this for you.
He lets out a low chuckle, you don't even know the half of it. He wanted you, this was his dream, he could practically not contain the ecstatic happiness he was experiencing at your issue. He knew it was wrong. He knew he was a bad, bad man for enjoying this, but his heart was beating faster, he was holding back a smile and he couldn't help but seize this opportunity.
Before meeting you he thought he would die alone, but not from rejection, no, truth be told he has never been interested in a person enough to pursue them romantically, that was until you stepped into his office...
Perfect, cute, y/n, with an adorable little smile and oh... code violating underwear. That's how the two of you first met. On your first week, sent to the office by the Lieutenant for your dress code violations.
From that point forward he was obsessed, unbeknownst to you. You just thought he let you get away with more, being a girl and all. He was nicer, kinder, sweeter to you. Trying your baking, letting you sit with him at lunch, helping you over the walls in training. A caring Colonel.
"Come here." He said lifting you up and placing you in his lap.
You allowed him to do so, smiling a little, was he really going to fix your predicament?
He wrapped his large arms around you, thick muscles keeping you safe. You leaned into him hugging him back.
"I'm going to marry you, no-one is taking you away."
You couldn't help but smile more as you hugged him tightly. Your heart beating a little quicker.
"Thank you Colonel, thank you." You whispered.
He let out another chuckle.
"You know, you don't always have to call me Colonel, maus." He teased a little.
"What should i call you sir?"
"Mein Ehemann." he stated, petting your hair as you leant against his chest.
"Mein Ehrmann," you repeated, he smiled at this, "what does it mean?"
"Your husband."
You felt a blush creep up your cheeks, maybe this marriage would be for more than just convenience...
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brucewaynehater101 · 2 days
Note
Love all the Tim is secretly Bruce’s dad hc I’ve seen from you.
Ok but do you think Tim ever sits down with his friends and talks about how hard it is parenting Bruce the way other adults talk about their kids?
I wanna see Tim and Anita exchanging tips on how to get the kids to behave while yj is just listening in the all the chaos those two have to be in charge of.
My gods. I can imagine the two of them chatting over zesti poured in fancy glasses (or some other drink to make them feel like gossiping moms) as they discuss the arduous task of being parents. While the other YJ members wouldn't be able to understand Tim and Anita's struggles, they would be sympathetic. If Tim told others outside of YJ about his issues with parenting Bruce, they would probably chalk it up to Tim being dramatic. YJ would believe Tim that he's explaining the situation accurately.
Anita and Tim, due to their parenting struggles, would have one on one meet ups outside of YJ's reunions. The two of them would often text or ask for advice from the other (although parenting toddlers and an adult child is different), but every few months, they make time to sit together in person.
I don't know enough about Anita's character (which is a damn right shame), but I imagine their meet ups would probably look something like this:
Tim sighs as he tilts his head back to peer up at the popcorn ceiling. Exhaustion is evident in his posture, and he almost seems to cry when he starts talking. "How do you stop them from retaliation when you tell them no?"
At the beginning of Tim's complaints, YJ would laugh at the image of Batman, in his terrifying lurking, throwing temper tantrums. Now, after seeing the years of weight managing the grown man has thrown on their friend's shoulders, Anita frowns. Her mind drifts to her own parents and the way Don has sulked for an hour after she refused to take him to the park (it was raining).
"I usually distract them with something else. It works most of the time."
Tim closes his eyes as he takes a calming breath in and out. Recently, Bruce has been hiding the Robin suit because Tim told him that he couldn't patrol with broken ribs.
"I'll see what keeps his attention off of patrol long enough."
Anita nods as her thumb rolls over the lip of her glass. "What about naps? Got any tricks for when he's refusing to sleep?"
Tim snorts as he remembers his convoluted method of inducting sleep. "I take away stressors, interesting cases, and anything else that might grab his attention for more than a few moments. Then I start playing calming music, light a lavender candle, feed him food that makes him sleepy, and place a comfy blanket on him."
While Anita may not resort to all of that, some of it is doable for her parents.
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vagabond-umlaut · 1 day
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toasty
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sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm. sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.
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gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine
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"do you like that dress?"
you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.
you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.
particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...
stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...
he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"
you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.
you take a second bite, even bigger.
some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.
the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.
although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?
he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"
"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"
the addressed man pauses.
but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—
"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."
the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.
only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.
gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—
"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.
something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:
"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"
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the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭
masterlist
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padfootagain · 2 days
Text
Only An Almost (VI)
Chapter 6: Hiding
Hello!! Here is a new chapter!
I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!
*************************************
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 2387
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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Andrew needed to talk to you.
After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…
He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.
I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.
He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.
But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.
At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.
I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.
You opened the door.
I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…
“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”
“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”
He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.
You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.
“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”
“You look tired.”
You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…
“Thanks, I guess…”
He rolled his eyes.
“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”
“I have so many things to do…”
You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.
“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.
“I have some work to do…”
“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”
“Andy…”
“Do I really need to beg?”
He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.
“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.
“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.
He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.
“What has you so busy then?”
“Work. Important projects.”
“What kind?”
“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”
“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”
“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”
“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”
“Touché…”
“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”
“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”
“I didn’t…”
He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.
“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”
“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”
“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”
“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”
“All of the above…”
Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.
“Come on, go get changed.”
“What?”
“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”
“Andy…”
“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”
“I thought I was still stunning.”
“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”
You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.
“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”
“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”
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How could Andrew bring up this conversation?
He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.
You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.
You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.
You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…
“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.
“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”
You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.
“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”
“Only if you’re nice to me.”
“I’ll give you a snack.”
“Hmm… that could work.”
“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”
“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”
“There are badgers everywhere around here.”
“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”
“A bite-size ankle.”
“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”
“Naughty.”
You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.
Love. It’s love.
You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.
“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”
The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.
“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.
The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.
“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”
“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.
“How do you do it?”
Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.
“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”
Andrew shrugged.
“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.
He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.
“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”
He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.
“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”
Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.
“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”
“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”
“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”
“Some of them are.”
“What about most of us?”
He granted you a sad smile.
“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”
You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.
“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”
It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…
Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?
“It can be difficult,” he nodded.
“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”
“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”
“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”
“I understand.”
“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”
“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”
“I…”
But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.
He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.
“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”
What could he answer?
No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…
“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.
You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.
He was being a fool…
“I can’t think like that, Andy.”
“Why not?”
“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”
He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.
“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”
His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.
It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.
You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.
“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”
He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.
You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…
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Text
𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫,
who is a virgin and wants him to be their first. gender neutral, not so much explicit, but still smutty, as usual. Alastor is his own warning. kinda.
this one took me a while for several reasons. mostly because life is a bitch, but also because it was a really hard piece to write. I'm asexual myself and this is heavily self-indulgent. I wanted to maintain this treat of his, but still explore the sexual aspect of the relationship and the way asexual people might participate in it. so... yeah. proceed with understanding of this.
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oh? so, you're just like him.
the only one who is not surprised whatsoever. isn't it supposed to be that way?
though there are a lot of vulgar people around. he might even praise you for keeping your chastity for so long.
but… becoming your first?
“Truly, my dear? That's quite the favor to ask a gentleman!”
it's less about being repulsed by the idea of intimacy (it doesn't sound bad if it's with you) and more about not wanting to step into a completely uncharted territory.
that's a first for him too, after all.
give him time. he needs to research some things before he's ready to try.
a week or two later he suddenly appears out of the shadows in your room with loud static noises, scaring the shit out of you, and announces that he would be very pleased to take the offer!!
hooray..? (please come out from under the bed, darling.)
now, just like Husk, he is an old-fashioned man. for him, this could only happen after a nice date.
he prefers a simple stroll around the city arm in arm, and having some coffee with you.
you can sense that he's a tad nervous, but also deeply thrilled. his posture is a little stiff while walking, ears, usually unmoving, twitch slightly here and there. it's cute.
you also notice he's more physically intimate with you today than usual. sitting a bit closer to you and leaning in subtly, so you can feel his warmth. gently covering your hand with his own. reaching to fix your hair, touch feather-like and making your heart pound in your chest.
none of it is sexual in any way, but the difference in his demeanor doesn't let you forget your plans for the night even for a moment.
judging by the sly curve of his smile and very attentive gaze, this is one hundred percent intentional.
inclined to take you into his own room after the date. if you're not against the living forest in the background.
(I suggest you accept the offer. fireflies would be a very romantic addition to your night.)
he needs to talk things out first.
“Let's discuss some rules of our… little arrangement.”
the rules are quite simple, although you might find them odd.
he will not take all his clothes off. especially not the lower part. pants stay on no matter what.
his hands, his mouth? all for your pleasure, darling. no limitations here.
and maybe, if you behave yourself and ask nicely… his shadows, too, can participate.
he merrily refuses to elaborate on what “behaving” means for him exactly. it's simply more fun that way, isn't it?
jacket tossed inside, sleeves rolled up. honestly speaking, it already feels too revealing. you don't think you ever saw so much of his arms or his neck before.
he is in a white shirt today, clean and pure, like the snow on the mountaintop. pristine even.
you never saw this, either.
he follows your gaze and his smile turns a little unsettling. you shiver, suddenly feeling like you are the one who's exposed here, even though you haven't taken off anything yet.
“No blood to stain it today, my dear,” he coos, adjusting the shirt slightly. oh, so usually he wears red for–
you don't want to continue this thought right now.
he's very insistent on undressing you by himself.
he uncovers you like you're his birthday cake in a cute present box. slowly removing every ribbon, carefully taking off the wrapping, anticipating what's underneath.
his hands are cold, but his eyes are heated, even somewhat hungry. and so, so intent.
he drinks on your every shiver, on the way your lips parts ever so slightly to let out a small gasp, on the goosebumps that run on your skin, when he leans in to nibble on your pretty neck, right beside the quicked throbbing of your pulse.
he hums an old tune, seemingly lost in exploration of your body and the way you respond to his touch.
he's eager to learn and very observant. he changes the pace the moment he notices you feeling uncomfortable. he discovers what makes you respond well and uses the knowledge without any shame.
but he also does very much love you telling him what you want him to do with that cute trembling voice of yours.
that's what eventually earns you the shadows taking part in the whole fun. if this is something you desire.
if you weren't satisfied before, you most certainly are now.
expect him to restrain you. he likes to see you squirming under his touch, unable to set the pace. he does everything deliberately slow, so you would beg him to give you more and do it faster.
he's very controlling in general, and although he takes into account what you want, he will also act on his own whim.
it honestly seems that he likes teasing and tormenting you to see your reactions much more than the physical aspect of it all.
humor him, and he will reward you accordingly.
but don't let him get too lost in it. he has a tendency to forget that you're not merely a toy to play with.
set some boundaries and you'll be alright.
once you both decide it's enough, he's a thoughtful gentleman again, bringing a glass of water for you, and helping you clean yourself up.
will let you rest your head on his lap, gentle light of fireflies surrounding you.
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he sings a shooting melody, letting you peacefully drift off to sleep.
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flowerandblood · 7 hours
Text
Refinement (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]
[ warnings: incest obviously, oral sex, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagement ]
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[ description: During her Name Day, his younger sister wants to run away to the city. Things don't go according to plan, however, and he, as her older brother, wants to comfort her. Anon request. ]
Part 3 of the Appearances, can be read as standalone story.
My other works: Masterlist
_____
To his delight, the months before their nuptials he and his younger sister spent in each other's constant company, growing closer to each other. At first she would shyly visit the places he usually frequented, the library or the courtyard, and he was content to interrupt his own affairs by having at least a short conversation with her.
Although he resented discussions about nothing, usually tired of them, with her he could have a light conversation all the time − her questions and answers were always thoughtful and balanced, sometimes filled with a sweet naivety or curiosity from which he felt the heat in his lower abdomen.
"Today is my Name Day, lēkia (big brother)." She cooed sweetly, grasping his fingers in hers − his hand against hers seemed rough and large to him, hers, on the other hand, smooth and delicate as silk.
He murmured under his breath, looking at their intertwined fingers thinking back to the evening the day before, when he had guided her hand under the material of his breeches again, as usual demanding relief, which he then reciprocated with his characteristic devotion.
He wanted her to be convinced that he would make a good husband.
"I know, dōna hāedar (sweet little sister)." He replied calmly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, thinking of the gift he had prepared for her, a beautiful necklace created especially at his command. A girlish, happy smile appeared on her face, a kind of excitement and anticipation emanating from her that intrigued him.
Something was going through her mind.
"There's one thing I've been dreaming about." She whispered, and he leaned back, stretching comfortably in his chair; they sat together under a beautiful, ancient arbour surrounded by a garden, opposite them only the view of the sea, spreading low beneath the walls of the keep, the sound of wind and leaves all around them.
"What is it?" He asked lowly, fiddling with the small ring on her finger which he had given her just after their father had officially confirmed their betrothal.
A symbol that she was meant only for him, the sapphire eye surrounded by a frame of intertwined golden stems and leaves shone brightly in the sunlight.
He heard her twist in her seat, delighted apparently that he had asked the question. She grunted quietly.
"I wish to escape to the town tonight." She said lightly. He looked at her with a smirk full of amusement and indulgence, convinced that she was teasing him.
"On the dragon?" He asked mockingly and pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing hard when he felt her take her hand from his grasp, her gaze clouded, her brow arched in pain of humiliation and disbelief.
She stood up from her seat and, shocked, he watched her silhouette disappear between the tall shrubs with his lips slightly parted, wondering what had happened. He moved behind her immediately, sighing impatiently − as he got closer he grabbed her arm and forced her to stop. She looked him straight in the eye, tears of rage in her eyes.
"− forgive me, I didn't wish to −"
"You can leave the keep whenever you desire. You can fly on Vhagar whenever you desire. But I can't. I am a prisoner of these walls, our mother does not allow me to travel anywhere. Is that what amuses you so much? Is that what you mock?" She asked in a shaky, embittered voice, wiping the tears from her red cheeks with her free hand, her lower lip quivering with nerves.
He touched his fingers to her cheek, but she rejected his hand, making him put more strength into pulling her close − she hissed in discomfort when his fingers tightened on her waist covered only by the thin material of her soft gown.
"I would never mock you, sister. However, you know it is not a matter of our mother's bad will, but of your safety." He replied slowly, trying to say each word with reason so as to explain to her that he did not intend to offend her.
He understood what she desired, but he would have gone mad at the thought of her leaving the keep only in the company of the guards.
"What danger would I be in if my betrothed accompanied me?" She muttered with a bitterness from which he felt his throat squeeze, only now understanding what she was trying to convey to him.
She wasn't complaining to him.
He swallowed loudly and hummed under his breath.
"Is this what my future wife desires?" He asked quietly. She looked at him with a pained expression and nodded, looking into his eyes with hope.
Having no other choice, albeit reluctantly, he agreed.
They made arrangements to meet at one of the side passages that were rarely patrolled by guards − both of them sneaked down the narrow stone steps clad in grey robes and cloaks under the cover of darkness, the sky above them cloudless and full of stars.
"You are to stay close to me. Understood?" He asked warningly, and she nodded quickly, looking up at him happily, her plump cheeks red with excitement and joy.
He murmured low, delighted when her warm, soft lips clung to his in a tender, sticky kiss − he locked her in the strong embrace of his arms, cupping one of her cheeks in his palm, her fingers stroking his neck and jaw making his manhood throb hard in his breeches. He pulled away from her and sighed heavily, tense.
"Let's go."
It seemed to him that as they stepped out into the main courtyard of the town, lit only by torches and bonfires kindled by night merchants and bards, she was intrigued by everything that was happening around her − his fingers entwined with hers as they walked arm in arm around the crowds of shouting, noisy people. She looked up at him with a wide smile and hugged her cheek to his shoulder when she noticed his anxious, grave face.
"− I am grateful to you for your dedication, my love −" She said softly and he sighed heavily, kissing the top of her head.
He wanted to return to the keep as quickly as possible, fearing for her safety, but she insisted that they move towards the various stalls, watching intently as the men roasted meat over large fires, which they then sold. They stopped hearing a theatrical play from a distance, men dressed as women pretending to be his mother and their stepsister, Rhaenyra.
"You will not take the crown! My son the drunkard will sit on the Iron Throne!" Thundered one of the men in a too-tight green gown, his voice pretending to be high and feminine − a third actor appeared on stage, a blond-haired young man who was apparently supposed to be Aegon.
When the man began to pretend to vomit while clutching their mother's breasts, loud, mocking laughter echoed all around them. He saw that his sister looked away, her lips pressed together, her eyebrows arched in confusion and embarrassment.
"Let's go." He said lowly, regretting that she had seen this, but believing on the other hand that even if he had wanted to, he could not keep her unconscious forever.
The kingdom had no love for them, and their safety was apparent.
"I regret asking you to do this. Forgive me." She muttered as he escorted her to her chamber, the joy and contentment gone from her face, replaced by sadness and disappointment. He lifted her chin with his finger for her to look at him, recognising that he should better prepare her for what awaited them.
"The kingdom is divided. The only thing that unites our family now is the person of the King. Nothing else." He said lowly, and she blinked, thinking about his words, swallowing hard after a moment.
"And our blood? Our heritage?" She asked uncertainly, and he involuntarily snorted at her words, shaking his head.
"If our sister had our heritage, dignity and the future of our lineage in mind, she would not have made her bastard son her heir to the throne." He hissed coldly, looking her straight in the eye − he knew something had changed in his face, from which she twitched all over, in her expression something he recognised well.
She was afraid of him.
"− sister −" He whispered softly, stroking her soft cheek with his thumb, wanting her to understand that although filled with anger, he would never harm her.
"Against good customs, will you stay by my side? Will you let me fall asleep in your arms?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed loudly, feeling his manhood momentarily swell and pulse in his breeches, betraying an overwhelming desire to comply with her request.
He hesitated, wondering what their mother would say, but seeing her pleading gaze and her need for closeness, he decided that he could not deny her his presence when she articulated that she needed him.
He was to be her husband and she was to be his wife.
His place was with her, always.
That was why he agreed and followed her into her quarters, looking around beforehand to make sure no one would disturb them. They both pulled off their cloaks − his sister turned her back to him, startling him completely when she untied her breeches and the simple grey tunic he had brought her earlier, staying only in her snow-white nightgown.
He looked away, embarrassed, feeling his heart pounding like mad, not knowing what to do with himself.
He had never seen her in such a negligee before, and although his whole body screamed to look at her and admire her beauty, he wasn't sure it was appropriate and worthy of her honour before their nuptials.
"Come, brother." He heard her soft, warm voice once she had laid down on the bed, extending her hand to him.
He moved towards her, pulling his boots off his feet, laying down beside her with his heart in his throat, involuntarily noticing the outline of her sweet breasts under the thin, translucent material of her shirt.
He sighed quietly as her whole body snuggled into him instantly, seeking protection and comfort − unwittingly his arms locked around her waist, his hands sinking into her hair and buttocks, his lips placing a warm, lazy kiss on the top of her head.
It was her Name Day, and she was distressed and frightened, to which he had unwittingly contributed.
He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling involuntarily guilty, not knowing what he could do to comfort her, to turn her thoughts again from what the future might have brought.
He, her husband, was supposed to protect her and their future children − it was his role to worry about what fate would bring, not hers.
He shuddered when he heard her quiet voice, combing through her soft dark hair with the tips of his fingers.
"If I am to become your wife, why do you treat me like a little child?" She asked regretfully, and he felt his hand stop in mid-motion, the air stuck in his lungs.
"I do not follow." He replied lowly, feeling discomfort in his chest hearing her words.
She raised herself up on her elbow, looking up at his face − her eyebrows were arched in sadness and uncertainty, her full, shiny lips clenched into a thin line. He dared to touch his thumb to her cheek, wanting to soften whatever was about to leave her mouth.
"If war is coming, you may need me and Saraxes. Just because bloodshed is not my desire does not mean I am blind. Do you think I'm not a true dragon because I don't have your white hair and violet eyes?" She asked in a trembling voice with a reproach and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.
The thought that she had felt rejected and left out by everyone all this time like himself made him quickly lift himself up on his arm, pressing his nose against her soft face, her hot, trembling breath enveloping his face.
"No. No, my love. You must understand that it is my weakness towards you, it is my fear that makes me wish not to endanger you." He muttered, horrified at how she perceived the whole affair and his actions, that he, gods take pity, thought her foolish or incapable of understanding such complicated, male matters.
She read the same books as he did, spoke to him as an equal on subjects from which he would never have expected a woman to have extensive rhetoric, not because he thought them incapable of it, but because they rarely delved into it.
Yet here she was, well aware of the importance he attached to sword-fighting, knowing as much about his history of the various weapons, their parts and how they were used as she knew about poetry or philosophy.
She swallowed quietly, her eyes shining in trust, in hope, as his mouth brushed hers encouragingly, her lips parted invitingly, allowing his tongue to slide deep into her throat.
She moaned sweetly, innocently as the tips of their tongues licked each other tentatively with a quiet clicks again and again − she sighed as he gently pushed her to lie on her back, trailing his fingers over her soft face, the wonderful scent of her oils filling his entire lungs, her lips fleshy as sweet fruit.
"− brother −" She murmured between their loud, tender kisses, her fingers entwined in his hair, one of her hands removing his eye patch from his face with an impatient, confident motion.
He looked at her, at her pretty face without fear or shame, sure for several moons now that the sight of his scar, his sapphire eye did not frighten her, that she loved him whole.
His sweet, tender, devoted sister.
She pulled him to her by the neck, her lips, impatient that he had pulled away from her for so long demanded another warm caress, his slick tongue ran over her palate making him, though he tried to control himself, completely hard.
"− take me −" She whispered and he felt the air stuck in his throat − he broke the kiss, looking at her with eye wide open in shock, panting heavily, her cheeks flushed with shame, her gaze pleading, full of desire. "− please −"
"− I − gods, you know, you know how much I crave you − but we can't, not before our nuptials −" He muttered wearily, once again seeing on her face that cruel expression of embittered disappointment that was breaking his heart.
He suddenly remembered what Aegon had once told him about, how a man's tongue was capable of giving a woman wonderful pleasure, and though he was ashamed to ask him for details, he decided in an act of desperation that perhaps it would help.
His gift to her, proof of how much he cherished her.
"− let me do something else − do you trust me? −" He asked in a trembling voice − something in her gaze changed and she nodded quickly, her fingertips ran over his cheek in a gesture so tender he felt his throat clench with emotion.
She was perfect.
"− spread your thighs − do not fret −" He added quickly, seeing that her whole body had gone breathless and tensed at his words, uncertainty in her eyes. He heard her swallow hard as she obediently followed his command, she drew in a loud breath as his hands lifted the material of her nightgown higher, above her hips.
"− ah −" She mumbled, in some subconscious, innocent gesture trying to cover herself back up, horrified that he wanted to expose the most intimate part of her body − his hands stopped her, his gaze fixed on her face flushed with emotion.
"− let me, my sweetest − let me take care of you − I won't hurt you −" He whispered, and she pulled her hand back, placing it beside her face, her puffy lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.
She trusted him.
She trusted that, as her future husband, he knew perfectly well what she needed.
He let out a loud breath through his mouth, trying to hide his own nervousness, his trembling hands gently exposing her swollen, leaking womanhood that he had caressed so often with his fingers.
He involuntarily licked his lips at the thought that her folds looked like the flesh of a fruit and indeed when he ran his thumb over them, they were as usual wonderfully moist and warm to the touch.
Her body arched backwards as he began to gently tease her puffy bud with circular, slow motions of his thumb, in some subconscious involuntary reflex her thighs spread wider in front of him, making his aching cock pulse hard in his breeches.
Gods, how much he wanted to take her now, to sink deep inside her, to feel how tight she was.
"− close your eyes −" He commanded, knowing that if she looked at him he would never do what he wanted out of shame − he heard her swallow loudly before closing her eyelids a moment later, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
She trembled when she felt him lean in, his warm breath enveloping her now swollen folds, glistening in the starlight from her own wetness − something about the sight, the smell of her made him run the tip of his tongue over her slit, her hands clenched in his hair, her body arched back, wanting to escape, a loud, surprised moan escaped her lips.
"− g-gods − brother − what are you −" She whimpered and cried out as the fingers of his free hand tightened warningly on her plushy hip, pushing her back to him, his thumb squeezed and rubbed her pearl making her squirm before him in pleasure and disbelief.
"− be quiet −" He ordered impatiently, sinking his face into her soft, warm womanhood, his tongue ran over her folds again, invading between them for a try, teasing her swollen bud with his finger.
He sighed loudly as he felt how hard her legs trembled in his embrace, heard her tighten her lips and stifle the moans that wanted to escape her throat, felt his cock twitch hard as her fingers pressed him closer to her bare flesh.
She wanted more.
"− brother −" She mumbled, spreading her thighs wider, wanting to feel him deeper − encouraged, he forced his tongue inside her, invading the very tip of her upper wall and the spot where he usually dug his fingers in, teasing her pearl with strokes of his thumb. He felt her fleshy, hot, tight core begin to throb, the wonderful taste of her moisture spreading across his palate, making him gasp in delight.
He could already understand why Aegon had spoken of it with such enthusiasm.
She tasted wonderful, like the flesh of a ripe fruit, ready to sink in and bite into it.
His sweet sister.
"− mmm −" He gasped out, pushing his tongue all the way into her, feeling her hips begin to respond to his movements with rocking of her hips, reaching out to meet him. He licked and sucked her pearl, rubbing it with the tip of his nose, still pressing it with his thumb, a quiet, lewd sound of slurping and clicking of her wetness all around them.
At last she fell apart, a long, intense fulfilment shook her lovely body, sweet, girlish, innocent whimpers erupted from her lips − she begged him, babbled his name, calling him, pressing his face against her leaking cunt, delighted that he was licking devotedly everything that spilled out of her.
"− my sister's sweet nectar −" He gasped with devotion and delight, again and again rubbing her opening with his rough tongue. His hand slipped down to his breeches, sliding under them, grasping his swollen, aching cock, squeezing it at the base, not stopping his caresses, intending to pet her like this all night and come on his own hand.
"− brother − no more −" She mumbled out, terrified that he wasn't stopping, her over-stimulated, sore insides clenching greedily around nothing, her hands trying to gently push him away but to no avail − he only hummed under his breath, stunned by the warmth of her flesh, her closeness and her scent.
She smelled like sin.
"− I'm afraid I intend to fall asleep tonight with my face between your soft thighs, my love −"
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graphicpepsi · 2 days
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risk (nsfw, mdni)
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OR: what happens when König gets bored on a mission and you just happen to be with him..?
König sighs, leaning back and adjusting himself for the third time in ten minutes. His sniper rifle sits loosely in his hand. Bored eyes scan the environment one final time before they land on you.
"Bored yet schatz?"
"No," You lied, "Just tired."
You had begged him for months to let you come on one of his missions. You wanted to see what a day at work looked like for him. And after months of trying (and months of the older man telling you it was too dangerous) he finally obliged and brought you along.
You wanted to match with him, so you wore camo cargo jeans and a black shirt. Even though he said this was a run-of-the-mill boring mission, adrenaline still coursed through your body at the feeling of it. König next to you, his giant arms holding a gun, the scent of his musk and cologne intoxicating in the confined space.
"I'm bored." He says as if it weren't obvious, breaking the silence. He lets the rifle fall down beside him as he stretches his arms out.
His eyes were trained on the open window infront of him. You were positioned on the highest floor of a nearby apartment complex. He told you his job was to watch for terrorists and shoot to kill.
You bounce your leg anxiously. König couldn't understand what excited you so much about tagging along with him, but it made him happy to see you like this.
Besides, you loved seeing him in his gear. Although you'd never admit it to him. To you, he was a gift from fucking god when he towered over you like that; tactical helmet, cartridges strapped to his chest, utility knives strapped to his thighs- it made him look twice as big, if that was even possible.
Watching his gloved hands unload & reload shells into his rifle could make you drool.
You look up to see his blue eyes locked on you.
"What were you thinking about, love?" He asks. His mask hides the expression beneath those unrevealing eyes.
"You."
"Ja?"
He has to be smiling, you think.
"You come on my mission to distract me?"
"You're distracting me." You correct him, " 'ts not my fault."
He pulls you closer to him in one smooth motion, his strong hands gripping your waist harshly. You're so close to him you can feel his mask move in front of you after each exhale.
"I distract you?" He repeats, tilting his head. His voice drips with knowing curiosity.
You don't try to hide the way your thighs squeeze together at the sound of his thick accent in your ear, the feeling of his giant hand on your side.
"Kö.." You breathe, barely above a whisper.
"Yes, pretty?"
You climb onto him, settling yourself down on his knee, your legs dangling on either side. He breathes out a low chuckle, like he can feel you pulsing on his knee or something.
"You want this, schatz?" He guides you back and forth on his knee with his hands, moving your body like putty, dragging your wet pussy along his thigh.
"Mmfh, please König," You bury your face in the crook of his neck, grabbing at his chest and shoulders for support.
He slides you back and forth, relishing in the way you roll your hips into his knee to get more friction. He presses you down firm as he pushes his knee against your pussy, dragging you up and down until you're a whining mess on top of him.
You're so wet but it's not enough to cum, and he knows it.
You whine into him, pathetically. "More," You try to hump his leg the best you can, but the minimal friction it gets you almost hurts.
"Poor baby," König murmurs, "Can't cum?"
You grab his shoulder as hard as you can, frustrated, even though you know he can barely tell. He grabs your hair and yanks your head out from his neck.
"Such an impatient little brat."
You roll your hips down into him as a response, mind a little hazy.
"Please Kö, so wet f'you." You mumble, looking into his eyes with puppy dog ones. He nearly growls at that. He loves when you get all riled up.
Before you can protest, he flips you around on his lap so you're facing the window, sitting in between his legs.
"Tell me if I need to shoot, ok Schatz?"
Your heart pounds at his voice in your ear, but even more so at the hand groping your pussy, thick fingers dipping into the waistband of your cargos.
"Wh- König, I don't know how to- oh, fuck."
He sinks a finger into you, sliding into your wet hole easily, like your pussy was made for his fingers.
He fucks it into you, slowly, curling it and then adding another one, then another one, and another one.
Four of his thick fingers pump inside of you, curling in just the right spot and vibrating against your pussy. He uses his thumb to press against your clit, pinching it and shaking it underneath him.
Just like that, you're reduced to a moaning, wet mess on his fingers. You lean your head back onto his shoulder, eyes screwing shut with pleasure as he starts shaking his fingers inside of you, thrusting them in and out hard.
"König, Köni, I'm gonna cum, König-" He does nothing but speed up his hand at your whines, and it's not long before you're cumming on his fingers, creamy white seeping in between the cracks. He fucks you through your orgasm, slowing his hand down finally as he curls his fingers inside of you, fucking them slowly into you before taking them out entirely.
Your legs are vibrating, and if he wasn't supporting you you'd definitely fall.
He rests his hand on top of your wet pussy, the warmth of it making you moan. You're so sensitive that just the feeling of his rough palm against your puffy clit makes you whine.
"You gonna cum for me again kitten?" He rubs his palm roughly against your pussy before slapping it hard.
You bite your hand, muffling a loud moan because it caught you so off guard.
He spanks your pussy again, harder, "Get that fucking hand away from your mouth, brat." He slaps your cunt over and over again, your clit pulsing after each spank.
It only took a few rough spanks before you were cumming again, back arching against him with a loud whine.
"Sh, sh, good girl." He strokes your pussy, almost comfortingly before pulling your cargos back up and pressing soft kisses to your shoulder as you come down, panting.
"Oh, hang on."
He hoists his rifle up to his shoulder, takes a second to aim, and then pulls the trigger, sending a shot directly into someone's head.
"There we go."
He sets the rifle back down and pulls you back onto his lap, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.
"You did so well, little liebling, good girl." He coos into your ear, stroking your back.
All you can do is nuzzle into him and try to catch your breath.
A/N: that picture made me FERALLLLL y'all wouldn't even believe how i was actin writin this like barkin woofin growlin grrrrrr gyatt DAMN is this man fine. If y'all want me to write sumth just lmkkk thanks for reading
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gglitch1dd · 7 hours
Text
Listen yall, I know we hate Enji right. Totally hate him.
But like... 👀
Sugar daddy?
Imagine being Enji Todoroki's sugar baby, because my friends say I'm crazy when I say this AND I'M NOT CRAZY!
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Warning: Some smut towards the end, INTENSE daddy issues (Glitch starts sweating), Age Gap.
Big bad fire lord Enji who's a father who's children don't trust him. He views himself as a father who failed and considering they are all old enough that they have their own careers, they don't want to rely on him anymore.
Enji who has enough money to burn because his kids wont let him spend it on them.
Divorced, Enji Todoroki who doesn't even want to attempt entering the dating scene because he just knows how that is going to go.
Enji who's still Number One, just waiting for Shoto's generation to finish being sidekicks and burst into the ProHero space and take over the ranks..
Enji who gets dragged to meet and greet one day with Hawks (who only has like a handful of people actually wanting to meet him since everyone is scared of him), and one of them just happens to be you.
You aren't afraid of him, nor do you seem to care that he is a giant muscular man, over twice your size with hands big enough to cover your entire face.
You talk too much, you flutter around him excitedly asking him about how it is as Number One, he isn't your favourite hero by any means but you respect his career and what he's had to do to get there.
He finds you annoying, but he can't help but crack a smile when you attempt to make him laugh.
Enji who finds himself thinking about you at the end of the day, in his empty home wondering whether you would smile as big as you did today.
Enji who meets you a few days later while at a coffee shop by pure coincidence. Who actually gets the courage to talk to you and ask about you.
The two of you talk for a few minutes, you telling him about what course in varsity you were in and what exactly you were doing.
He honestly wanted to throw in the towel when he found out you were nearly twenty years younger than him. That sounded like his next scandal.
However, you managed to make him feel as if time just ran by.
Somehow, between getting to know you better and managing to actually get your number, he found out that you were struggling financial. Your average student that was just trying to make enough money to survive and pay off the student debt you were in.
So Enji decided to help. Not because he wanted anything back, but he had the money that you could use.
That's how Enji became your Sugar Daddy, although he hated the term. He was something like a boyfriend but not really. A Sugar daddy but not really.
The both of you grew close, your own issues and traumas fueling your relationship. He was a failed father and you felt like a failed daughter.
He found pleasure in the little things. In having you hold his hand and drag him around the mall, your eyes catching on clothes that you would love to wear or him buying you a new laptop because yours was old or buying you a new phone because you got a good grade, or him sitting you down for a nice meal because you deserved to taste good wine more than ten times older than you.
However, Enji wasn't expecting to have you come into his home and wind your way into his bed.
Enji was not weak by any means. His self control was impeccable and so was his own strength.
However, having you hold onto his shoulders as you struggled to take his fat Coke can of a cock, was a type of rush he didn't expect to find again. To have you whining, telling him how big he was, how warm his skin was and how nice he felt inside you, all around you. He could encage you so easily too.
He wasn't rough at you the first time. He was slow and methodically, watching you undo yourself on his cock in pure bliss. You whined as you held onto him for dear life, almost as if you were afraid he would disappear. But Enji didn't disappear.
He was right there, and he held his large arms around you. He would rather die than have you, his little flame, disappear and be snuffed out of his life.
-Glitch1d
(random thought honestly)
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jazzyblusnowflake · 2 days
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I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.
(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)
Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying
oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....
Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]
See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭
But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-
//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.
overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭
either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]
but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.
Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]
as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...
one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...
anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.
and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")
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