#girl working himself to the bone for Him... for His future.......

[covetyou]

when we begin again

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con (reader was paying a debt, less so now), oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, thigh slaps (three small ones), small description of a hand injury, cumplay/cumshot/cum marking, praise kink, maybe Joel has a bit of a pain kink idk, possessive slutty Joel, derogatory names ("whore"), drug reference, unspecified age gap word count: 4.1k summary: He wasn't one to lick his wounds, but after a deal gone wrong Joel finds something he'd much rather put his mouth on.

A/N: and here we be, the first of the SWAT oneshots that serves as a sort of bridge between the main series and the few ideas I have brewing and ready to go. This is a whole re-write in less than 24 hours because the original fic I was almost finished with felt too me and not enough SWAT. no one needs sad girl monologuing about life and death and grief with their porn. you're welcome.

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"Hrrrmph!"

Joel's lips crash into yours the moment you step inside. One moment he's running an anxious hand through his graying hair, and the next he's making quick work of the space between you, striding across the floor to grab you and plant his lips firmly on yours.

It's not what you'd come here for, funnily enough. You wanted to talk and, glorious as it was to have your lips against his, you couldn't talk like this.

Wretching yourself away is stupid. After everything you know it's stupid, yet you do it anyway.

"Joel -"

Cupping your head in his hands his lips find yours again before you can get another word out, teeth knocking together as he licks into your mouth, and you briefly lose yourself, turning to putty in his arms, ready to sculpt into whatever he sees fit that day. Before the bonelessness takes hold completely, you pull back once more.

Searching his face you look for the sudden need, the sudden rush, the desire to kiss you and have your face in his hands that hadn't been there any other time until now. You see nothing, his dark eyes refusing to meet yours as his hands find themselves at the front of your pants, deftly unbuttoning them before you can even question him. Before he can unzip them, your hands find his, holding him gently in place.

Joel freezes, hands stilling on your zipper, and he pulls a small, sharp breath of air in through his nose as if you hurt him, wounded him by daring to slow him down.

"You want me to stop?" he growls.

"No, I just -"

"Then quit your complainin'."

You do. Briefly. Until the zip snags as he pulls on it again and he curses in frustration.

"Let me do it." Until last time, which wasn't really like any other time, he'd always asked you to strip yourself, made you strip in front of him before he touched out. His clumsy hands on your clothes felt alien, and as it was he was being too slow, even in his desperation.

"You not want me to touch you or somethin'?" he snaps, frowning down at your pants now as he fiddles with the zipper, trying to get it to budge.

"I never said that."

"Then quit your fuckin' complainin'."

And this time you really do when you finally see the tremble in his hands and the blood on his knuckles, and it occurs to you that maybe you did hurt him, that grabbing his hand to stop his frantic movement caused him pain.

Joel hadn't been in a rush before you got here. He'd been the opposite, pacing the floor, willing himself to slow down, calm down. And it had been working - each turn he could feel himself relaxing, all the pent up energy from a deal gone to absolute shit steadily leaving his bones. But your delicate knock on the door had sent his blood boiling in a different way. He'd fought with himself to ignore it, to tell you through the door to fuck off for another day, but the idea of something warm and wet and compliant to soothe his aches and pains was too enticing to pass up. Making you in particular moan and writhe and give in to him was even more impossible to let go. In the end, the door had practically let you in all on its own.

So when his hands pull at your zipper again, yanking it in frustration, you will it down, beg with your mind for it to not snag again, and you sigh with relief when it doesn't.

In one fluid movement your pants are unceremoniously pulled to your knees, and Joel is crowding you back against his dining table, rough and aching hands on your hips to guide you. Your exposed ass collides with the solid wood, and he's pressing into you, the hardening lump in the front of his jeans poking into the softness of your belly. You can feel the frustration in him and how it twitches through his fingertips, swells in his cock, and each time you feel how the need wins out over frustration as he grinds into you, latching him onto you as his veins hunt for some kind of relief.

Another yank of your jeans and he's pulled them to your ankles, stepping on them as he pushes you to sit on the table. Your jeans stay behind, dragging your shoes from your feet with a dull thud, and Joel kicks them away. Winters in Boston are bitter, none moreso than this one, and your frozen ass barely registers the feeling of the wooden surface as you sit on it, still kitted out in your hat, coat and gloves. When you move to pull them off his hand pushes between your breasts, knocking you back onto the table. A second later there's a harsh scrape of a chair across the floor and, just as you manage to tug one glove off, he's yanking you down the table toward him.

You sit up and look down where he sits between your legs, enraptured by the softness of your skin beneath hands that glide up and down your thighs, gripping and squeezing the soft flesh more gently than the wounds on his knuckles suggest he's capable of. He's holding off, you realize then as you watch his hands, trying to slow himself from taking what he needs.

Tossing your hat to the side you lift your hips, shimmying your panties down just enough for Joel's fingers to work them down the rest of the way. Sitting back in his chair he looks between your legs, and you know that he can see what you've been feeling since you stepped onto his street. By this point, the response was Pavlovian. Each step closer to Joel's apartment you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, your cheeks feeling hotter and hotter. You wonder if one day he'd stop having this affect on you, or if he'd stop responding to it exactly how you knew he would, but with a knowing quirk in his brow, you know that day is not today.

"Fuck me, sweetheart. You sure no one else been down here today?"

Shaking your head, you manage one more look at him before he's pulling your legs up, hooking them over his shoulders and diving into your slick folds with a firm lick.

"N-no," you gasp, bucking slightly into his face with your legs spread over his broad shoulders. He should know that you haven't, that you wouldn't, but you think he just needs to hear the confirmation, needs to know that this thing in front of him right now is just his for the taking, and so you let him have it. "Haven't even touched myself today."

He moans into your cunt, cold nose pressing into the softness of your mound as his tongue laps and laves you. With a slurp, having cleaned up the arousal that had leaked out of you on your way here, he looks up at you, ticking his head to the side and nodding down to your bare pussy. "Well, shit, looks like all o' this is just for me, huh?"

There's no air left in your lungs for you to respond when his tongue circles your clit and makes you groan into the cold air. Whatever he needs, if this is how he was going to take it, you were damn well going to let him take everything you had.

And so, pinning you to the table he begins to devour your cunt, licking messily all over you, coating you in his saliva. He pulls you open with his arms hooked over your thighs, spreading your lips further for him. The chill hits you for just one second when you're fully spread to the cold air, but his mouth soon descends on you and all you can see are his eyes and the curve of his nose, his mouth hidden as he buries it into you.

You shuffle your jacket off, the room suddenly feeling much warmer than when you first entered it, and earn yourself a small slap to your thigh, making you squeak out a yelp of surprise, when Joel's mouth involuntarily pulls from your cunt.

"You gonna keep still? Or you gonna keep fuckin' wrigglin'?"

You shift again, biting your cheek as you test him. Channelling his energy into eating your cunt is working wonders for him and he seems calmer already, but that doesn't stop him lightly slapping your thigh again, shooting a warning look up at you.

"Got a way to keep you still if you can't fuckin' do it by yourself, sweetheart," he warns and, as if sensing you're about to test him again, he unhooks one arm from you and pushes a finger straight into your wet heat.

You moan, gasping again when he sucks your clit for good measure.

"Huh?" He's coaxing you, trying to get you to wiggle again and earn yourself another surprise. Not one to push your luck you simply moan, letting your back arch slightly when he begins to move his finger inside you. "What was that?"

"Fu-nothing. Just - fuck - so good."

You mind is liquid, seeping out of your ears and making a mess of your jacket when he licks you again, dancing the tip of two fingers around your entrance before sliding both into you. If it hurts him, he doesn't let on, but you can tell it does something to him by the groan he makes into your cunt as his fingers curl in you, making your walls clamp and twitch around his fingers.

"That's it," he murmurs. "Like gettin' this pussy ate, don't you?"

"Mm."

"Thought so. Needy fuckin' pussy. Not just your mouth that wants to be kissed is it, she needs it too?"

"Oh god, yes please, she needs it too."

And you can feel it, the moment he switches from eating your cunt to kissing it. You know the shapes, the trails he kisses, the way his tongue dances. You'd committed it to memory the past week, made yourself come at the thought of his mouth, the scratch of his beard, the feel of him beneath your fingertips, touching him as much as he was touching you. His mouth and the memory work together then, bringing you so impossibly close to coming you can feel as your moans leave you more high pitched, how you push into him, chasing and chasing that feeling that's right there -

"See," he says, stopping your orgasm in it's tracks when he pulls back, a knowing smile on his face. He pushes another finger into you too, watching as your legs twitch open wider to take him, the rim of your pussy spreading across his fingers with slicked up ease. "Don't even gotta stuff your mouth, just gotta keep this thing right here stuffed and suddenly you're actin' all nice and polite."

There's a brief hope in you that he'll go for a fourth finger, stretch you out across his sore knuckles and ready you for his hard cock, but the hope fizzles away, cast to the side and forgotten, the second his mouth joins his hand back between your thighs.

You're almost there again already, the crest of the orgasm he stole from you a moment ago barely behind you. His tongue laps rhythmically, never ceasing, and his breaths come in heavy, fanning across your folds as he feasts on you, fingers pumping so deep you're sloshing around them. You're hot, so impossibly hot in spite of the cold. You want to shed more layers, bare yourself for him, but you're so close and he's getting you there fast, goading you on with each satisfied groan into your cunt.

"That's it," he mumbles into your twitching pussy. "Fuck that's it sweetheart, come on my fingers."

You can feel it build, Joel's mouth engulfing you and lapping at everything you have to give. The beginnings of your orgasm start to shudder through you, your legs stuttering with every flick of his tongue. Your back arches from the table, toes curling in thick socks as your heels press into his back, pushing him into you. And then it hits you.

The coil in your belly snaps, letting loose an orgasm that swamps all your senses. Held down by Joel's muscular arm and pinned by the fingers hooked in you, you buck into his mouth. Quivering thighs have clamped around his ears, attempting to draw up and pull back as you squirm in his firm grip. You're screaming too, you think, a breathy high pitched shout of his name that you just can't hold back, that gets shakier and shakier the longer it goes on.

And it does go on. Joel doesn't stop, determined to wring from you as much as he can. His fingers are locked inside of you, forced to stillness by the pulsing in your pussy. Still, he can flex them, curling his pruning fingertips into you while he tongues your clit, groaning with each twitch of it beneath his tongue. You know that sound, how it's gotten deeper and more desperate as he's devoured you. It's a sound that tells you he's hard, that he needs relief and will be desperate for it the second he pulls away from you. That thought only makes you come harder, and by the time your cunt has stopped its erratic pulsing around Joel's fingers and you've fallen limp, deaf, and winded against his table, he's already standing, pushing the chair back and letting it crash to the floor.

Dragging his fingers from you he pushes between your legs, pulling his jeans open as best he can, wincing when he rasps his knuckles on the fabric a little too harshly. You reach for him, wanting to help, wanting to be a relief for him like he is for you.

"Let me -"

But he knocks your hand away, tugging down his jeans a moment later, his cock springing free and knocking into your thigh before he can capture it in his fist. It's hot against you, burning and dripping, likely feeling as achey as his knuckles do.

You expect him to plunge into you immediately, to take advantage of the position between your thighs and your pussy still fluttering with want at the sight of him, but he doesn't. Instead you watch for a moment as he strokes himself, the bloody scrapes on his knuckles contrasting harshly with the smooth, solid plains of his cock.

"Your hand, Joel, I can -"

"Fuck, my hand," he growls, resting his unmarred hand on your though to hold you still.

Your legs fall open further, his touch light on your thigh barely applying any pressure to open you up for him. Still, he doesn't take the clear route in, and you're rocking forward trying to notch his tip on your entrance just as the rough scrape of his knuckles drags across your sensitive inner thigh.

"Please put it in me," you finally beg, needing to feel the deep stretch of his cock as it pierces you.

"Nuh-uh, sweetheart, you get what you're given and you be grateful. You gonna take it?"

"Yes," you say quickly, following on with a small, "Please."

He groans at your eagerness to please. Making a man like Joel desire you so much he can't help but moan, just with small words and gasps of your own, makes you feel a power you've never had before and your eyes just about roll back in your head.

"Use your hands, show me that hole," he demands, giving you a little space to reach down and spread yourself for him. Your pussy is leaking, still, you can feel the slick spread on your fingers as you spread yourself for him. "That's it, hold yourself open. Fuck she's still twitchin'. Fuuuck. That's it."

His strokes become longer, more fluid, as he stares at your aching, empty cunt. You still want him inside, would do anything to get him there, but the desire in his eyes tells you he's getting exactly what he wants right now, and you almost want that more.

Tilting his head back as he strokes his cock with pussy drenched fingers, his bruised knuckles rub against your cunt with every stroke. Holding yourself open is easy, but keeping your legs from snapping shut each time his fist rubs your clit feels almost impossible. As if noticing, Joel pulls back, looking down where your cunt is spread open for it.

"That's it, keep it open. Good girl."

You know you're glistening for him, he'd eaten you so fiercely his saliva had been dripping from you, mixing with your own slick as you came on his tongue. He can see the evidence of it now, and the evidence of what his words do to you at the tell tale twitch of your cunt at his praise.

You can't take it any more and you beg in desperation again. "Please put it in, please."

It does nothing but earn you another soft slap to your thigh, which he rubs, grabbing the meat of you and squeezing in his large hand as his cock twitches and drips in his damaged one.

"No," he grunts, breath coming in more ragged now. "Want you to fuckin' wear me. Know who's pussy this is?"

"Yours."

"Fuck," he hisses. "Yeah it is. Pussy's mine, sweetheart. Mine."

Gripping your thigh tighter he moves in closer again, his hand bumping your sensitive nub as he jerks so closely you slick up his knuckles, soothing the soreness and jerking your clit in tandem.

"Oh fuck, that's it, sweetheart. Keep it just like that, show me that pussy. Show me," he's saying, over and over as he watches you.

A second later he's looking up, staring straight into your eyes and pinning you there on the table with them. You nod, words stuck in your throat when all you want to scream is for him to come, to cover you in it, to claim your pussy just like he needs, just like you want.

The sneer on his lips tells you he wants it too, and before you know it his tip is pressing firmly to your clit, jerking it with every frantic movement of his fist, his hips thrusting minutely into it like he can't control it, can't hold it back any more. And neither can you. The pressure and the movement on your clit is too much and you're coming again, so soon after the first it brings tears to your eyes.

"Ohhh, f-Joel, pleasecomeonme."

Looking down where he's pressed to you, he hisses a breath in through his teeth, holding it for just one second until it pushes out of him with a deep, shakey moan, cum exploding out of his tip and coating your folds, dripping through you until the last spurt coats your mound and he's left breathless.

You flop onto the table, grateful for the padding your coat offers your bones as you collapse into the wood. He's leaning over you, finally releasing his grip on your thigh and running a thumb across his mouth, cock still in his aching fist. Using the oversensitive tip, he smears the cum into your bare cunt and the insides of your thighs, catching your eyes just in time to watch them turn from glassy to rattling in your head, your mouth in a small O when he jerks your clit with his head, making you both gasp.

"You did say this pussy was mine," he says, letting a small wry smile tug at his cheeks. He pulls back then, letting go of his spent cock to run his fingers through your cum covered folds, scooping up a drop with his thumb.

Leaning leaning over you, he swipes his cum slicked thumb against your lips. You suck on it, tasting him, salty and bitter and sweet and Joel exploding on your tongue all at once. You want to thank him for it, but he pulls your mouth open with his thumb and pushes two fingers in, making you clean them with broad soothing strokes. You're careful not to catch him with your teeth, still aware of the wounds on his knuckles as you taste yourself off of his cum soaked fingers. If his hand looks like that, you wonder what the person on the receiving end looks like - the thought shouldn't make your cunt twitch, you know it shouldn't, that it's likely sick and twisted and wrong, but it does, and you moan around his fingers just has he pulls them from your mouth.

When your eyes flick to his lips, he smirks, knowing what you want without even asking. Cupping your face with his bruised, wet fingers, he makes you look at him, waits for the desperation in your eyes to ramp up to the point of frustration before he gives it to you.

Just a peck, that's all he gives, soft lips and the tickle of his facial hair so fleeting you could have blinked and missed it, before picking up the chair with a groan and settling back in it with a deep sigh, inspecting his wrinkled fingers. They'd spent so long buried in you the tips are starting to pucker, the ache that your warmth had soothed slowly crawling back down his knuckles.

Your mind is slowly pulling itself together, slowly crawling back into your ears and taking root in your skull again. Joel's eyes scan across you before finding something apparently considerably more interesting on the floor by his dining table.

"Where the fuck you shoppin' this late in the day?" he says with a frown, and you sit up, following his gaze to the floor.

Your pants are in a tangle, a sprawled mess on the floor with your shoes from where Joel had dragged them from your body and there, next to them in a messy pile, is a small stack of cards that you'd brought with you.

"Oh."

Right. You came here to talk to him, to renegotiate your arrangement, before Joel had needed more from you than a chat in that first moment through the door and pushed all thought of conversation from your mind. You clear your throat and square your shoulders, pushing away the last haze of orgasm and look back up at him. "I'm not. They're for you."

With a groan, he bends to pick them up, counting them as he stands and then raising them to you with a question on his lips.

"What're these for?"

"For the pills," you say, like it's obvious, like you hadn't been using your body as payment for months.

"I've already taken my payment," he says with a look to your cum coated cunt. "'n' if you wanna pay me for your daddies pills, you know it's more than this, right?"

"I can take 'em back if you don't want 'em. I just figured we can pay a bit now and, y'know... I wanna come here because I wanna come here, for me, not just for pills all the time." It sounded better when you rehearsed it in your head this morning, but coming out of your mouth now it sounds ridiculous.

He looks at you for a moment, taking you in, sat pantsless and dripping on his dining table.

"Y'know, there's a simpler solution to this than dumpin' cards on me without warnin', right?" If there is, you haven't thought of it. "Stop only comin' by when you need pills." Oh.

"If you want somethin' else, you know where I am. Now, if you don't wanna whore yourself for meds anymore, if you wanna be respectable, then that's fine. I'll take your cards. But I ain't takin' all of 'em. I'm keepin' these," he says raising a few cards up to you. "And you're takin' these," he pushes the remaining ones into your hand along with a small bag of pills he slips out of his pocket and you frown. You already weren't offering him enough.

"Now I get a nice respectable, good girl to fuck, and you get to pretend you're not a whore. Win-win."

"I'm not a whore," you insist, rolling your eyes, even though you know it's not exactly true.

Joel simply shrugs, shaking out your jeans and throwing them on the table next to you before placing his hand by your ass, thumb stroking delicately along the soft skin there, and leaning down toward you. He tilts your head up to face him, his nose catching yours as your eyes meet his.

"Whore or not, sweetheart," he smirks. "Pussy's still mine."

You weren't going to argue with him there.

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller/reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #fic: SWAT #coveted fics

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 4

Loki x Reader

Series Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: Not sure if I'm completely happy with how this chapter came out, but I hope you still enjoy it.

Masterlist | Read ch 3 here

Loki had watched through a checkered screen how you held onto his hand as if he were your whole world. He had watched the love in your eyes and the smile on your lips, all directed at him. And now, he watched as you, in flesh and bone right in front of him, walked away.

There was a foreign feeling consuming his heart the more you distanced yourself from him. It was akin to loss, but how could he lose something that wasn't even his?

He was about to make the mistake of going after you when Mobius finally returned from the storage room he had been talking to you in.

"What happened?" Loki asked with a hint of urgency, his brows furrowed.

Mobius took in a long breath and then let it go past his lips. "She said she wants nothing to do with you."

Loki's frown only deepened, his eyes shifting between Mobius and the place you had disappeared into. If anything, he looked slightly offended. "Why?"

"Well, it's pretty obvious that she watched her Loki die, right?" Mobius gestured around, sounding a little fed up with all of this. "So it's a delicate subject, give her time, don't get on her face, don't be obnoxious, and she'll likely come around and be willing to answer whatever it is you wanna ask."

Loki blinked at the words, chewing at the inside of his cheek. "I'm not obnoxious."

─── ·❆· ───

"Stop looking at me like a lost puppy," you grumbled with a scowl on your features, gripping tightly onto your food tray.

Loki, who stood right beside you, scoffed. "I am not. I'm looking at the rice you're standing right in front of."

You breathed in, slowly, holding yourself back from rolling your eyes. It's been three weeks since Mobius tried to reintroduce you two, and for the past two weeks, you've gained a new shadow. He doesn't talk much; or interacts much with you at all for that matter. But he's always there.

TVA's cafeteria was usually bustling with people this time of day, which was exactly why you always came by at least an hour earlier; but today you got caught up with work and there was no other option than to brave the crowds, otherwise, you'd stay without lunch.

When you'd picked up everything you wanted to eat, you turned around and surveyed the spacious room for any vacant tables. By the corner and near the railings that overlooked the city—or, what you would call a city here in the TVA, because to be honest, you still weren't sure what to name most of the things in this place—stood the only vacant table left, small and round, with two lonely chairs.

You closed your eyes and mumbled a curse under your breath. You made a beeline for the table, and you didn't have to look behind you to know that Loki was following your steps.

You settled into a chair and a few seconds later Loki made himself comfortable beside you. It was… strange, having him around. The racing of your heart every time he was near you was inevitable, but you were doing the impossible to dissociate any feelings from it. He was just another variant, that was it, nothing more. You just wished you knew what his obsession with you was all about, so what if he saw his would-be future with you? That was not yours or his life anymore.

"Your food is gonna get cold."

Loki's voice caught your attention, you glanced toward him with a frown, only now realizing that you'd been poking your food around with your fork for a while, lost in thought. For a heartbeat, you held his gaze, you allowed yourself to drown in those ever-familiar bright eyes that you'd missed so much. But before you could lose yourself in the ocean, you swam back up. This wasn't your Loki, no; you had to remind yourself of it, time and time again. For your own sake, you had to believe in that lie.

For the last couple of weeks that he'd been following you around, more and more you noticed the same glint in Loki's eyes, a mix between expectant and lost. You wondered if even he knew what exactly he wanted from you.

The only answer you gave to him was a low hum.

─── ·❆· ───

The days inside the TVA blend together easily, that was something you learned in your first few weeks here. In all fairness, it's what one would expect for a place out of time. Sometimes the day they captured you as just another variant felt like ages ago. Sometimes, it felt like just yesterday.

It had been difficult when you first arrived here, nearly unbearably so. In the blink of an eye, you had lost your entire life, everyone you still loved and held dear became unreachable. It was either starting a new life here, or ending your life altogether. For some reason, you still felt like living.

The TVA kept you busy then, enough for you to not succumb to panic. As days went by, it became easier; as time passed, or as Mobius would tell you, as time passed differently, you became almost numb to what you'd lost. Almost.

A sigh went past your lips as you ran your fingertips over the paper. Mobius usually had you go over each file reporting a possible new Loki variant. Finding patterns and creating connections they otherwise wouldn't have noticed. You tried not to dwell too much on the fact that you had to use your connection to the person you once loved as a form of work.

Your desk stood by the edge of the library, away from too much commotion, a cozy little space you'd given your own personal touch to over the time you'd been here. A few books here, a small cassette player there, a snack drawer, a sketchbook, a purple desk lamp; small things to remind yourself you were still human.

As much as you could, you made a new home here.

A shadow suddenly appeared over the paper in your hands, you straightened your posture on your chair before looking up.

Loki stood before you, in his dress shirt and dark jacket with the word variant on the back—you'd worn one of those too on your first days here, now that you recall. He held a fresh stack of papers in his hands that already had you internally groaning.

"Mobius sends his regards," Loki smirked as he dropped the papers on your desk.

"Great," you mumbled, sarcasm dripping from your words, "it's not like I wanted to sleep tonight anyway."

A beat passed and you could feel Loki's gaze still lingering on you. From the corner of your eyes you watched as his fingers nervously tapped the wood of your desk. You hated that you knew this habit of his oh so well.

"Maybe I could assist you." Loki pulled a chair from the empty table to your left, setting it on the edge of your desk so he could sit down. But before he did so, he said, "If you'd like."

He was giving you an out from spending time with him, even if that was clearly what he wanted. You nearly took it. Your lips hung open, ready to say something like; I work better alone, or go bother someone else. But your eyes suddenly had a faint burn behind them, your chest squeezing tight around your heart—the heart that still bled and missed him every day. "Knock yourself out," you found yourself saying, without looking up from your paperwork.

Loki sat down on his chair beside you, took a few of the papers in his hands, and for a good few minutes, the silence that lingered between you was, surprisingly, somewhat comfortable.

Stealing glances at you was inevitable. As Loki read the files in his hands, the words started to blur together, and he found his gaze drifting to you. He observed the way you'd frown slightly as you read over the lines, sometimes scoffing or mumbling something to yourself.

You were quite annoying, Loki had to agree with Mobius on that. Stubborn, closed off, and hard to read. If it were anyone else, Loki wouldn't even consider losing his time of day, but each time he saw you, his heart jumped and stumbled inside his chest, he grew short of breath, cold hands turning clammy. It was inevitable. His body acting against his will, as if his soul ached to touch yours.

He had to know why.

"May I ask," Loki began, hints of hesitance in his words.

Your eyebrow perked up a little, but you still refused to look at him.

Loki pursed his lips before speaking, "Mobius mentioned you've been here a while, that he found you could be useful. But he never went into detail." He let go of the papers in his hands, "how did you get here? Why didn't they prune you?"

You visibly tensed. Jaw setting tightly into place as you took in a short breath through your nose. For several moments, you kept quiet, eyes fixed on the same words in the file you held as you considered whether to humor him or not. You weren't sure why you answered, the words simply rolled off your tongue; a subconscious reaction to the sound of his voice.

"It was my fault, I tried to travel through time when I knew I shouldn't. They caught me pretty much immediately." You chuckled humorlessly, stealing a glance toward Loki only to find his eyes already focused on you. You nearly drowned again. "They kept me around because…" You hesitated, and then merely gestured to the scattered papers on your desk; "I know a lot about Lokis," you shrugged, "and they needed help with that."

A small frown came to Loki's features as he weighed your words. He twirled one of your pencils between his fingers. "Why would you travel through time if you knew you shouldn't?"

Immediately, Loki knew he'd touched a nerve. Your whole demeanor changed, it almost felt like a curtain had fallen over you and a whole new person sat beside him. What little you had began to open up, was back under lock and key.

You didn't raise your voice, you didn't lash out. You simply cleared your throat, turned away from him, and said; "I thought you wanted to stay to help me work. So either do that, or leave me be."

Loki's lips hovered, ready to retaliate with a quip of his own, but he bit back any words he might want to say. Give her time.

He nodded to no one in particular, and indeed went back to work.

Later at night, when the TVA was strangely quiet, and most people had already turned in for the night. Loki glanced beside him only to find you drifting into sleep; one hand holding your cheek and the other loosely holding a pencil that had scratched a weird, faint line into the file on your desk.

It felt unexpectedly intimate. Loki glanced from one side of the dim-lit library to the other, as if looking for a clue on what he should do.

Carefully, almost comically so, he took the pencil from your delicate hold and stacked the file you had with the small pile he'd created.

The desk lamp right beside you cast a faint glow over your features, shaping your cheekbones, nose, and lips. Loki couldn't help but notice, that the light also shaped a thin but rather deep scar running from your forehead to the beginning of your left eyebrow; from the look of it, it appeared to have been there for a while now.

Without giving himself too much room to overthink, Loki reached out and gave a single push to your shoulder. His fingers tingled from your warmth.

You stirred awake, gasping softly as soon as you opened your eyes. You blinked several times, willing your mind to focus back on reality.

"I suppose we're done," Loki told you, keeping his voice just an octave lower as he turned his gaze to the small stack of papers. "If you're quick, you can still grab a few hours of sleep before the new day starts."

"Right," you breathed, running a hand through your hair. Eyebrows still furrowed as you processed what was happening.

You tidied your desk in silence, and Loki put the chair he had borrowed back in its place. He turned to you then, half expecting you to simply turn around and walk away. You didn't, and maybe it was a trick of the light, or the fact that he could visibly notice your eyes dropping from tiredness, but your features were the softest he had ever seen them be. A quick glimpse of the girl he'd first seen from the life he was supposed to have.

Loki held his breath. He wasn't sure why, but he did.

"Thank you for the help," you gave him a tight-lipped smile, refusing to hold his gaze for more than a second, "see you around."

With that, you turned around and left. Loki's heartbeat kept the same rushed pace until he reached his own small bedroom.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 5 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist: @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @justaproudslytherpuff @justanotherkpopstanlol @chronicallybubbly @chaoticqueen33 @7minutes-tomidnight @uncle-eggy @oliviaewl @dd122004dd @tani725 @lokihaha34 @levanneisdumb @innebulae @mochminnie @mayemperess @alyeskathewave @buginktsworld @cremebruleequeen @wyvernthekriger @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @avengersfan25 @mischief2sarawr @yokolesbianism @arunabrak @athenasproverbs @h-l-vlovesvintage @princess-ofthe-pages @daisy-the-quake @talesofadragon @rainbowsocks @alexandra-001 @mary-jinx @stevenknightmarc @falconxsoldier @ladymercury8 @shirukitsune @ladymischief11 @starkzdaughter @navs-bhat @creat0r-cat @cinnamonbambii @anundyingfidelity @creationcitystreet-em @or-was-it-just-a-dream

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki #marvel #loki series #loki x you #marvel x reader #loki x female reader #imagine #fanfic #angst #fluff #what once was mine #loki fanfic #my story #loki laufeyson x reader

[tryingtofindava]

hi !! could u write tyler x fem reader where they are dating, and instead of tyler being impaled by a tree it’s his girlfriend ! thank u

── 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

{[TYLER HERNANDEZ X FEM! READER]}

: ̗̀➛Back to Source

Your breath was staggered, twitching every few seconds or so. Trying your best to keep your eyes open, which proved to be a tricky task.

‘I wonder if I’ll die in the real world.’ Your thoughts spoke loudly, too loudly for your own liking. Why was it so quiet anyways?

Have the other’s drove off?

Will you ever see your friends again?

Will you ever see Tyler again?

I hope they’re safe from that… thing…

…

Is this how you die?

Thoughts like these consumed your mind. Y/n let out a defeated grunt, as she tried to push herself from the tree one more time. Her efforts were all futile though…

She is quite literally a human kabab. On this dead tree. In the middle of fuck all. The girl sighed shakily, her tear filled eyes trailing down to her stomach

. Looking at the tree that had pierced right through her very being, blood gushing out of you at an alarming rate, making it look like a Saw movie in real life.

This sucks major a-

SNAP!

Your head wipe to the side, your puffy eyes widening at the grinning face staring back at you. Shit. You have to get off this tree. Now.

Your brain is in overdrive as you try to push yourself up to escape from the phantom that was approaching rapidly. You close your eyes real tight, waiting for the phantom to scale the tree with ease and end your suffering.

TWACK!

Opening your eyes and peering down, blood dribbling from home parted lips. “Y/n!” You heard the red heads voice call up to you, though it was all muddled from the blood loss.

“Ashlyn, have you found her-“ Tyler looked up, his mouth falling open in utter shock. His hand shakes as he shone his flashlight up on your hanging body.

“Help me get her down!” Ash called out to the boy, who hurriedly went to help the leader to save his girlfriend. While Ben, Aiden, Taylor, and Logan watch from the sidelines.

Making quick work to get the needed medical equipment Ashlyn’s dad had placed in the real world for them to use to help.

You let out a pained whine as you feel Tyler lift you from the bark of the tree. His brows were furrowed as he focused on doing this as quick as possible to not prolong your pain.

“You’re safe now, I got you…” He murmurs quietly to you shaking form.

Everyone in the group made team effort to help you, all while Tyler gripped onto you so hard like if he let go it’d be game over. Mumbling reassurances, though you couldn’t tell id it was to you or himself.

Aiden was talking your ear off to keep you awake. “Y’know? This isn’t even that bad! One time, my bone went through my knee while playing football!” He blabs, though it didn’t help you feel better or assured at all.

“Dude, not the time!” Your boyfriend scolds him, while he rocks you in his shaking arms. While Ben and Logan stitched the gaping hole going through your back to your stomach.

“You’re gonna be okay, I promise… I won’t let anything bad happen to you ever again.” He squeezes your arm.

A/N: SOZ THIS WAS SHORT!! ^_^ I’ll probably add more and make it better in the future lolz :3

#school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard x reader #sbg x reader #tyler hernandez #tyler hernandez x reader #sbg tyler #aiden clark x reader #ashlyn banner x reader

[glorismorningstar]

PREGNANT

A/N: thanks for the request anon, can't wait to receive more <3 part 2 is out here

Pairing: Vox x fem!angel!reader

Summary: Vox is about to be a father, and the mother of the child is an angel.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

Around the end of the third trimester, VOX is all over the place trying to make you feel comfortable

He does everything in his power to take time off work and be with you

Before he used to ask Velvette to drop by on you once in a while because she was certainly less busy than him

Ever since he had noticed your baby bump shaped a little different than usual, he had been trying his best to fit in time with you in his jam-packed schedule

The way your belly was round at the upper and lower swell, but had four edges and was flat at the front made it clear that the child had inherited his technological head

While he was absolutely over the moon, you were flipping out, wondering however in the nine rings you were going to give birth to a flat screen TV

As he empathized with your distress, he did whatever he could to help you feel better

He made whatever compromise with Heaven he possibly could to let you stay with him and the Vees until further notice

Vox made an agreement with Velvette to keep Valentino away from you, he didn't want you or his future child anywhere near his colleague's filth

Of course she agreed, Val and his obscenities wouldn't even breathe the same air as you as long as she or Vox were around

Time seemed to fly by so fast, in his eyes it felt like yesterday you were showing him the pregnancy test, and now you're in labour

"Vox... I- I think I'm having a contraction..."

He immediately drops whatever it is he's doing and rushes to your side, screen lagging and stuttering as he tried to get his shit together

On the way to the hospital he lets you clench his hand as hard as you need, somehow he comprehends that you're feeling a pain that no man will ever experience

As you're taken to the delivery room, he can't find it in himself to leave your side

He holds your hand while you attempt pushing, clearly in vain

It was physically impossible to push the screen through your cervix, the only thing visible being the tiniest glimpse of the edge of the screen

But through all your attempts to push the baby out, you grip his hand a little too hard and accidentally bruised the bones in his hand

While you're whisked away for the C-section, Vox gets a scan of his hand to make sure nothing's fractured

When it's finally okay for him to see you and the baby, he rushes in and absolutely showers you in affection and praise

"You're wonderful, darling. You did so good, I'm so proud of you."

"If it's possible, I think I love you even more right now."

"Do you understand how strong and amazing you are?"

You just giggle, exhausted, and let your head fall to his shoulder, allowing him to brush stray curls away from your sweaty forehead

"You want to meet your daughter?"

"Of course I do, darling- oh, it's a girl?"

His heart is almost exploding, especially when the little girl is handed to him, cocooned into a fluffy blanket

He's almost scared to pick her up, not wanting to cause any harm to his child

"She's so beautiful..." he whispers, smiling down at the tiny baby

"Of course she is, she's all you." You reply, gazing up at him with utter admiration

He presses a loving kiss to your forehead at the comment, moved by your affection for him

"What do you want to name her?" He asks.

"Pixel."

You had come up with the name a little while after your baby bump grew screen-shaped

Vox adores it

While raising Pixel, he's still dead set on protecting her from Val

Him and his special movies had their own place in the world, and he sure as hell knew it wasn't anywhere near his daughter

Heaven allows you a few more months of maternity leave, which had even surprised Emily

They never took kindly to angels even associating with demons, imagine being impregnated by one

But regardless, you don't pry, opting to spend the time you had left with Pixel and Vox rather than wondering to what degree you're valuable to Heaven for them to grant you such an exception

He finally has his own little family, and he's going to do everything in his power to protect it

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin vox #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Head cannon || Breeding Kink [M]

BTS x Fem!Reader 

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2023

⤜MASTERLIST

⤜ MINORS DNI! Mentions of sexual acts/descriptions of sexual acts

 A/N: I am still new at breeding kinks so I hope this is the right way of doing them haha

SEOKJIN:: 

Jin is going to ask your permission every time just to make sure you want this just as badly as he does as he never wants to do something you don’t

He adores the way he gets to watch everything spill out of you and down onto the sheets, constantly praising how good you look with it running down your legs.

“Such a good girl, look at the way you take so much of me”

The idea of getting you pregnant after it drives him buck wild, sometimes his hips will stutter to a stop just at the thought of it 

Sometimes he’ll sound needy when he really wants to go raw with you

“Fuck you always feel so good wrapped around me”

1000000% wants to put a baby into you just so he can see how good the two of you will look mixed together.

YOONGI:

It wasn’t even his thing until you’d fucked without a condom one night since you were all out. The two of you had agreed that it was fine to go without a condom and ever since he’d turned into a dog with a bone constantly wanting to fuck you raw 

“Please…F-Fuck I need to feel you wrapped around me,”

Whenever he’s close you can tell by the way his hips move faster and yet sloppier at the same time as though the whole thing gets him too excited to control himself 

Don’t be mislead though if you spill even a drop out of you Yoongi is fucking it back into you

“Don’t want my precious baby to waste a single fucking drop” he moans out as he begins to thrust back into you, ignoring the fact that he was over sensitive 

HOSEOK:

Man isn’t going to stop until his balls are empty and you’re full. That’s as simple as it can get 

As much as he tells you he’s “going to get you pregnant” the thought of being a father scares him a little which was why you have some form of contraception weather that be the pill, the injection or the implant but never bring it up as it’s a mood killer for the both of you

Sex with him when he’s grunting and moaning about how badly he wants to fuck a baby into you drives you both wild, it doesn’t matter if you’re home or in his studio. The two of you go crazy for it 

“Gotta get my girl nice and knocked up for me,”

When the two of you eventually have kids in the future it’ll only amplify his kink and make him want it more, turning into a needy mess

NAMJOON

110% wants to put a baby into you, is obsessed with the fact that he wants to get you pregnant with his child so he can start on his family already

Whenever he’s about to cum he holds your hand tightly in his, looking deep into your eyes as he promises you that this time it’s going to work

“I can feel just how badly you need this too baby, fuck it’s going to work.”

Constantly cooking and gushing to you about how much of a great mother you’re going to be and how amazing you’ll look when you’re “knocked up”

Doesn’t want to waste anything so if you happen to spill out he’ll just push it back into you, smirking down at you as he promises that he isn’t going to stop until you’re carrying his kid 

JIMIN:

Jimin wants a family with you there’s no denying it 

When he first came into you without protection it was like he’d had sex for the first time, not lasting long enough to please you but you didn’t care it was heartwarming to see…though he did keep going multiple times through the night

“Just to be sure.” He would moan out as he thrust back into you already overstimulating himself 

Will fuck you anywhere, anytime if you told him you wanted to feel him breed you or even to just be filled by his cum, this boy will drop everything he’s doing to come and take care of you ;)

Even when you’re overflowing he’ll keep filling you up, again “just to be sure.”

TAEHYUNG:

It was like a weird instinct to breed you and protect you, neither of you knew where it came from with him but you weren’t complaining either

Sex without a condom with Tae was like pure bliss, something you never wanted to stop doing

The dirty talk with him while he’s in the mood is unreal

“I’m going to make sure you’re nice and bred for me”

“Not going to stop until you’re leaking all down your pretty legs.”

“Think of how good you’ll look when you’re fucked nice and full”

After you’d finished he would press you close to him, reminding you how beautiful you would look if you carried his baby

JUNGKOOK:

It wasn’t a secret how badly Jungkook wanted a family with you, how could he not? You were the love of his life

Man goes FERAL - like he loses complete control whenever hes inside of you and he can hardly control himself 

The first time the two of you were talking about it he nearly came on the spot at the thought cumming inside of you 

After a while it becomes a NEED for him, something he cant go without 

Always in missionary together, he wants to look deep into your eyes as he fucks a baby into you 

“You’re going to look so beautiful,”

“You look so good with my cum leaking out of you.”

Riding him is completely not allowed, he always needs to be on top of you 

Tagline: @chiisaiblog @rjdy-367 @tinyoonsblog @sw33tnight @taestannie @cherrybubblesandvodka @army24--7 @acciocriativity @mitzwinchester @heyjiminnie @kimahnjung98 @halesandy @jin-from-the-block​ @aerastus​ @namjooningelsewhere​ @psychosupernatural​ @lyoongx​ @laylasbunbunny​ @royallyjjk​ @crissq​ @lenfilms​ @btsiguess-kpop​

#bts #bts x reader #bts headcanon #bts headcanons #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #taehyung smut #jimin smut #namjoon smut #hoseok smut #yoongi smut #seokjin smut #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #hoseok #jhope #kim namjoon #namjoon #park jimin

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Your date with a new guy isn't good for you. Konig is inclined to show you that. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Drug use, Attempted date rape. Please, proceed with caution.

He can kill a person in under 10 seconds. 

Time cuts in half if he is allowed to use weapons – but it would go up to ten minutes if the victim is particularly bitchy, he has an ax to grind, and he wants to take his time with a knife to gut the person’s insides out of their body. 

All time in the world wouldn’t be enough to torture this unforgivable, terrible, disgusting son of a bitch who decided that he can just come out and take what rightfully belong to him. A man whose desires are literally printed on that stupid grin plastered on his face. He transfers it in the movement of his hand when he holds your waist too tight, when he smiles and laughs at your – adorable, funny, perfect – jokes and. 

König prides in always being the silent one, the calm, collected guy who is capable of holding his emotions inside of him until they would eventually die down and leave him without any big, terrible feelings. He uses battlefield as a way to reveal his emotions, to unveil it in a more healthy way – and sometimes he visits his therapist, explains all of the horrible stuff he sometimes wants to do to people around him, or someone from his past, and then waits for a new portion of sedatives that he won’t use because he is stronger than this, who they think he is? 

König takes pride in never talking if something isn’t right – he would simply change the situation, make it better, always the type to do stuff and not talk about doing stuff – but then he looks at the bastard who took you on something that can’t be anything but a date, and he is fuming. They aren’t supposed to kill civilians, of course, soldiers are here to protect them, to hunt for terrorists who prey upon innocent victims, just like your fragile self – but for god's sake, if he never had to restrict himself more than right now. He has to do something about it, he can’t just let his girl, his perfect future wifey to just…whore herself around to other people!

Yes, you are not yet aware of his plans, but he knows that you are faithful – just, perhaps, a bit dumb and not realizing yet who you belong to. It’s fine, he can’t just let you have agency over something that is just beyond control of your silly, fragile mind. He is fine with you being a bit too naive – he doesn’t need you to be smart or capable, or even independent, he would take care of everything as long as you are pliant and docile for him. As long as he is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, of course. 

He can disassemble a body in under 5 minutes. Bones are usually the toughest part, especially if he doesn’t have a proper bone saw in his arsenal, but he can always dispose of it by using the strength of his enormously big body – he is working out for a reason, and he has done lots of unforgivable things to conceal the truth behind some of the crimes he committed in service. He isn’t proud of this, but if his skills would help him dispose of the body of this guy, he would do it in a blind of an eye. 

His size isn’t allowing him to follow you two properly – and, unfortunately, he only saw you in the end of this supposed date, walking down the street with your body already shaking from alcohol intake. This is completely unsafe, he thinks – you are so soft, so fragile right now, you shouldn’t even be walking on the street like this. You can get hurt, someone can take advantage of you, you are still wearing the dress that is too fucking short to be walking out in the street at this hour, and your makeup is adorable and nice, but he doesn’t even want to think about all that unwanted attention your wasted body can attract right now. 

If you were with him, he would call a taxi already, make sure that you are at home safely – or go with you, take you to his place and prepare some water and hangover medicine. He wouldn’t just parade you like that, allowing you to giggle drunkenly and cling on his body. He would…okay, maybe he would take your body in his hands at first, but then he would find you a nice and comfy place to sleep, so he could gently touch your hair the whole night and watch as you would sleep softly, only sometimes waking up so he could hold your hair while you are puking your insides out. 

If you were with him…but you aren’t. You’re on a date with some douchebag, smiling and clinging on his hand, allowing him to hold your waist and let his hand slip to your butt. König almost wants to laugh – he forgot how dumb civilians might be, how naive, how weak. He should feel betrayed that you, a perfect little lady of his dreams, is out with someone else – and he would be, he ought to punish you for this later, but he knows that he can’t really blame you. You are weak, docile, your pretty head has no thoughts besides sunshines and maybe rainbows – just like a normal civilian. You can’t really be blamed for not understanding yet what relationships you two have, and why you can’t break it to be with another man. 

*** You are not having fun. 

It wasn’t as clear at first, when the guy – Tomas, of course, you studied his nametag for a week at least before he finally asked you out, even though you really thought it would just be a friendly gesture. He asked you for a few drinks, said something about your colleagues also being here – a little friendly gathering with your coworkers, a nice way to relax from all the terrorist threats and that shitty manager you have. It was supposed to be a fun thing, nothing serious, and you really like that guy – maybe even in a romantic sense. He is handsome, kinda cool, your age and works with you – a recipe for nice little fling, yes? 

Then no one came and you were messaging all your colleagues who were close to you – and no one knew anything about a friendly gathering at the local pub. 

Then he proposed to pay for your drinks and you agreed – a nice way to save some money, you would repay him later, maybe in the next pub after this one, so it won’t drain both of your paychecks. 

Then the drinks started to feel too heavy. You never got drunk so fast before, only one cocktail already made your head buzz with alcohol, and you almost want to change your order to a virgin mojito, but then you would probably seem like a buzzkill. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, poor guy is sad enough that no one comes to his makeshift party. Besides, if one drink is kicking you off so hard, it can also save you money – so it really is just a win-win situation and even if his hand slights a bit too deep in your thighs, and the pub seems too sleazy and empty for a friendly date, you are already too wasted to tell. 

Then you drink, and drink, and he doesn’t seem so weird anymore – besides, you did like him a lot. Besides, he paid for your drinks and it’s really nice, he even proposed to watch over your glass while you are out to the bathroom. You would try to splash water over your face to feel a bit more sober, but that would ruin your makeup – so you just cool your hand in some cold stream while hoping that this is just a moment of weakness and you would be okay after a few minutes. 

Then you aren’t okay and you really, really don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you quietly ask him to just go home – and he is walking you to his place, so you won’t have to suffer through hangover alone. It’s really nice of him, he supports your weight and you would just call an uber, but no one wants to work so closely to the curfew, and you can’t really break it again – unless you want that creepy scary terrifying handsomely weird colonel to catch you again, but in even more guilty state. Your state of mind isn’t clear, but Tomas helps you walk and he gently rubs your waist and you don’t even listen to him, just giggle from his compliments. He asks if you want him to stay – and you laugh because you don’t really feel good, you feel out of control mostly, and your body feels too light and too heavy at the same time, but he holds your hair and asks again and you almost begin to panic but hey, there really isn’t much to panic about, he is  good guy, right, and then…

You are not sure if you want him to be this close to you, but every time you try to make a small distance between your bodies, he clings on even more, and you aren’t sure how long you can keep doing this. He is a good guy, and you don’t want to be rude, he is probably just worried about you – you are so dizzy, you can just fall any second and this will be your fault completely. He pushes you deeper in the alley and you feel nauseous – he is too much, too close, he holds you too tight and you feel like you are going to puke. Tomas holds you close and you almost panic – but you shouldn’t, it should be fine, he is just worried about you, but it feels so weird, sick, you don't want to be here suddenly. Don’t want to feel so weak in his grasp. 

— W…wait, Tom. I don’t feel so good, I…sorry, I shouldn’t be drinking so much. 

You are in front of his house – he cuts the way through the alley, basically dragging you over to the place, and you don’t like it anymore. You want to be at your home, puking in that shitty bathroom of yours – all alone, at least, drink some emergency medicine and hope that you could still go to work tomorrow. 

— Hey, are you alright? 

He is attentive and nice and you feel bad for being such a bitch about everything, you totally ruined his evening by being such a lightweight – there is something dark in his eyes, and you are scared that this is contempt of you. That he hates being around you so, so fucking much because you are nothing but a buzzkill to him. 

— I’m…sorry, I think I should just call a ride home. 

— Come on. You really think this is what’s best now? 

— I don’t feel so good, sorry, I…

—A guy deserves something for being nice, no? I paid for your drinks after all. 

You want to say that he only paid for one drink that got you drunk too fast. You want to say that this doesn't feel right, that you shouldn’t be so wasted out of one cocktail, that you feel wrong, weird, that you really, really don’t want to be with him right now. He holds you too close and you try to ge tout of his grasp, but you feel too fucking heavy. 

Something is wrong. 

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem like such a good guy as before. 

— Sorry, I don’t…I think I need to go to the hospital, I…

His grasp on wrists became bruising. You don’t want to be here anymore, you want to yell for someone to help you get the fuck out of here – but your mouth feels like its full of water and dry at the same time, you don’t want to yell because what if you are just overthinking, and he is genuinely a nice guy. What if you will only disturb people around here – his neighbors probably need to sleep already, you don’t want to be a nuisance. 

— Well, sorry I’m not that fancy army guy. 

— It’s not like this, I don’t even…

— You just love behaving like you’re too good for this place, yeah? Sorry for disturbing you with our poor vibes, princess. 

He is angry now, and you are not even sure why – you can’t even master a normal sentence when your head is spinning and your throat can’t even master a tiny breath anymore, you are barely even able to talk. 

— I…

— I’m getting really sick of waiting for your majesty to pay attention. Think I deserve something nice for my patience. 

He grabs your hands even tighter and drags you to his apartment – your body feels heavy, you don’t want to be here with him, he is talking nonsense and blaming you for someone that you don’t even know – you barely remember him by now. He is speaking, talking about something – until he isn’t. 

Then you hear something crack and this is what the curtain call for your tired, exhausted mind to shut off finally. 

*** König can kill a person in under 10 seconds – even less if he has a weapon. 

Fucking asshole who tried to force himself on you doesn’t even deserve his sadistic streak – he don’t want to waste time on killing him, precous minutes that he can spend tending to your needs. If it was under different circumstances – if your limp body weren’t lying on the ground right now, gently pushed down by his reaction when you first started to fall down – he would think about torturing this guy a bit more. 

Firstly, he would break his fingers – one by one. It’s not as effective a way of torturing someone as pulling their nails off, for example, since a person can die much easier from that kind of pain – but he would do it anyway, just so he can get the kick out of destroying the hands that were touching you. 

Secondly, he would do something with his face – maybe burn the fuck out of his filthy mouth, that dared to speak to you in such rude manner. He would pull his tongue off, slowly break each of his teeth – right until pulling them also, enjoying the sight of blood dripping from his broken lips. you would be terrified probably – so he won’t make you watch it, would just ask you nicely to sit somewhere and smile until he is doing all the dirty work. He would love doing this for you – and you could just lick the blood from his hands later. 

Guy would probably be unconscious by this point – a good way to toss him like a piece of garbage he is, leaving him to slowly bleed out somewhere secure, where no one would ever find him. Then, König could return to you – and your innocent little smile, your trembling hands and cold body in need for warming up. 

But he doesn't have much time right now – he just snapped the bastard’s head while not even caring if someone is watching. If there is someone who saw the scene and didn’t help you – he would go for them too. Protector of his country can have a bit of collateral damage, as a treat. You are his biggest priority and right now you are laying on the ground, barely moving – he only sees your chest moving up and down, the only thing that helps him not to panic from thinking that you are dead. He gently holds your body upright, making sure to support your head – like a small baby, even though he was never holding one. 

He has quite a few experiences in taking care of his drunk comrades – he would usually just toss them out of the bar and into whatever taxi was available. If he is feeling generous – and they are out of car service available in the area – he would even drag them on his shoulder, given that even with men in full gear and a wall of muscles, he is still larger and stronger. 

But he can’t just toss you around like a bag of potatoes, you are fragile! And helpless, and adorable, and he wants to kill that bastard a second time because you are clearly intoxicated and he doesn't even want to think about what could have happened if he wasn’t here to save you. You look perfect, placed in his arms like a good and obedient girl. He is almost caught in fantasies again, but the weight of your body in his hands is bringing him back to reality. 

You smell like alcohol and something sweet, a nice fragrance that you used for this day – jealousy is eating him from the inside, because his adorable little lady didn’t put perfume for him. For that asshole instead, but at least he is dead now – neck twisted and head snapped, quick and silent job. He just tossed his body in the nearest trash can, knowing that even if police did try to find him as a convict, they would be forced to look away if they don’t want to have problems with the local military. 

König remembers the path to your house like he came here every day. He wants this to be true, but this rathole isn’t safe for you. He needs to get you out of here, to place you in the safety of his lap, where he could hug you and cherish you and worship the paradise you are keeping between your legs, waiting for him to come and ripen you. No one is out in the streets at this hour, and he moves fast enough that he covers the ground fairly fast. 

You stir slightly in his grasp and he moves his hands a little, hugging the curve of your ass a bit more. Your thighs are soft and he pushes his fingers deeper in the plumpness of your flesh, enjoying the sensation – you are wearing some skimpy dress and a short jacket, once again not being dressed up to the weather. He almost wants to give you a good spanking, bend you over his knee and beat the flesh of your ass until you learn his lesson. The image of your adorable crying face, begging him to stop and meowling about being a good girl for him makes his pants tighter – and he drags you closer to him, heating your body with his. 

You are addictingly small in his hands, he has to use all what’s left of his self control to not grab your body in inappropriate places. He pushes you closer to the door of your apartment once he is trying to search for the keys in your pocket – it’s hard when you are still unconscious but still moves in his hands, trying to resist even if he is not doing anything. He wants you to cry under him, to get crazy from stimulation as he slams his hips in yours, breeding you like a good little puppy you are – but he wants you to beg him to do this, to allow him to. He almost manages with his anxiety over the years, but the deeply rooted fear of rejection makes him self-conscious. 

— W…wait, don’t ‘ouch me…

König almost freezes in place. Your voice is small, broken, he can sense the tears in your tone as he gently rocks you in his hands. Your place is even worse on the inside, and he absolutely can’t have you staying here for long – but he also doesn’t want to drag an intoxicated and probably drugged girl to the base, leaving his reputation to become even more monstrous. He can invite you to his quarters later, when you both would have time for a very harsh conversation about safety – and why you are a dumb little civilian who shouldn’t ever be thinking for herself if she knows what’s good for her. He can be there for you, and deliver the well-deserved punishment on your body. 

— Quiet, mein Schatz. It’s alright now. 

— No, wait, I…wait…

You are still half-asleep when he gently moves your limp body to the couch, touching your hair even so gently. You are so pliant right now, so docile – afraid of him, of course, it breaks his heart, but it also makes his pants tighter. König enjoyed having you so weak in his arms, just like a good sweetheart should be – not making him feel anxious with the possibility of rejection, not making him angry for not listening to his demands. 

He can have you now – not like you would be able to resist. 

His large hands moving your head to the pillow, softly placing your face to the side so if you would feel sick, you won’t choke on your own vomit – he has too many experiences of very good soldiers almost dying from such mundane reasons, and he can’t have his little bunny suffering from such disgusting fate. He can’t help but touch your hair constantly, enjoying the feeling of it under his fingers – he tangles up with the strands of it, massaging your scalp only to make you let go of a small groan and frown in your sleep, unaware of the stimulation. 

Your apartment is tiny, even more so – for him. The ceilings are dangerously low above his head and if he wasn't hunching down constantly, trying to make himself smaller, safer for you, he would already bump into your ceiling lamp a few times. He smiles under his mask, happy that even if you were awake, his expression is concealed – he has a wide, scary grin on his face and it only grows larger every time you shift slightly in your sleep, but ultimately allows him to touch your body as he seems fit. 

He can lose control - so easily. You are helpless, limp on the couch even as your eyes are fluttering awake and you take in your surroundings. Your dress is dangerously short, and he can’t help but stare at your curves – your legs are making him go crazy with desire, fantasies about spreading them and burying his face in the sweetness of your cunt are flooding his mind. It would be so easy, just make sure you wouldn’t be able to resist and…

— Wh…what happened? 

You are so fucking fragile – like a fine porcelain doll that his mother liked to collect. All wrapped up in your own weakness, face flushed and eyes filled with tears as you realize that you are laying on the couch in your home, and he – the man who scared you more than any terrorist or war ever can – is softly touching your hair, playing with any loose strands. 

You want to panic – but he softly pushes a finger against your lips. König doesn’t care what your neighbors would think if you cried or screamed, but the walls here are thin, and he doesn’t want to deal with the police and showing off his military badge to any corrupt scum that lives in this country. Your eyes darted to him, terrified – and he doesn’t want this, no, he can’t have you afraid of him. A little bit of fear is okay, it’s normal, he can train that out of you – but he would prefer his wifey to be madly in love, not madly terrified. 

— It’s okay. I took care of that Arschloch for you. 

Your mind is still dizzy, your throat is dry as you try to master at least some meaningful words. Drug is still not out of your system completely – you understand that it was a drug now, you couldn’t be so drunk from just one cocktail, no matter the alcohol content. Tomas tried to do something to you – but you blacked out before he even got you to his apartment, and now you are home, at your favorite shitty couch, with a monster of a man holding you close. 

You want to cry, but his hands are oddly warm and you lean closer to his touch. 

You want to panic, but he pushes his fingers against your lips and you slightly calm down. 

— Tomas? Is he…

— Ja, meine Liebe. He’s dead. 

You are feeling sick. The knot in your stomach, anxiety mixed with alcohol and drugs is making you nauseous, you are scrambling on your feet as you try to get out of the couch – your place might not be the best choice out here, but you pride yourself in at least keeping it clean. He helps you get on your feet, supporting your limp head as you desperately try not to puke on the carpet. 

He killed him? How did he die? Did he do something to you while you were asleep? Did he…

— Let me help you, ja? 

— I picked up a shift in the morning…

— You are not working here anymore. 

— But…

— Don’t fight me, lamm.

He drags you to the toilet and holds your hair as you empty your anxieties away, and the scene is disgusting – but he can’t help but to relish in how adorable you look. All helpless, your body is barely holding together when he tries his best to be gentle, rubs circles in your back and pats your head softly. 

König has a lot of experience in dealing with stuff like this – mostly for himself, when his nerves got the best of him and he couldn’t shit them off. He used to be drunk – one of the reasons why he isn’t taking his meds is just so he could drink enormous amounts of alcohol, enough for his body to finally get drunk. He knows how terrible the intoxication feels when you’re alone – so he wants to take care of you, brings you a glass of water as you hug the corner of your bathtub and tries your best to calm down. 

He looks at your trembling form and fights the desire to kiss you. He knows that he can, you won’t be able to do anything against it – but he wants you to like him, wants you to be as into him as he is. If he wants his proposal to be perfect, you have to like him – so he gently rocks your body from side to side, allowing you to cry on his shoulder. 

You feel terrible – dirty even, weak, afraid of what else might happen with you while you can barely control yourself. Thoughts of what might happen if Tomas had his way flooded your brain – but the gentle hands on your back supported you, warming you up. Your head is still dizzy when you drink water that he bringed, cold liquid helps you a little. You feel his hands on your body, as he takes off your dress – you try to panic, to cling onto your clothes, but he is too strong, too large, too…

He moves you to your couch, placing you on the sheets softly. 

He is tucking your blanket over your body and opens the window for better ventilation. 

He roams through your medkit and places Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your bed stand. 

He moves his body slightly so he can kiss your lips – not even caring that you are not exactly in the best condition for kisses. 

You fall asleep right when he moves you to the side again and closes the door behind him. 

König can only thank your intoxicated state that you didn’t even notice how he took your underwear when he undressed you – a small prize for his help, no? Perhaps, the only thing that can keep his hands off your adorable, precious body. 

He should start looking for rings already.  (Comments and asks are appreciated. Tell me what you liked about this work!!) ---------------------------------TAG LIST--------------------------------- @shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath

#call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #konig mw2 #cod #konig x reader #reader insert #yandere cod #yandere konig #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you

[heich0e]

[warning: while f!reader is not described with any specific physical characteristics, the child in this fic is described as having inherited all of Megumi’s attributes and none from reader! please read with that in mind, or pass over this fic if not <3]

Fushiguro Megumi is responsible.

He always has been, from a younger age than he ought to have needed to be. It's engrained in him now, as much a part of him as his own flesh and bone—if something falls within his scope of responsibility, he's always diligent about seeing it through.

Here's the thing about Megumi, though, the thing he doesn't even really know about himself: he's a perfectionist. Because of this, he doesn't like to be responsible for things—at least not things that he can't guarantee will be a success. Things that he knows he can execute perfectly.

But the road to hell is always paved with good intentions. Convictions, no matter how strongly-held, can accidentally falter.

Megumi has never wanted to be a father.

And maybe this all ties back to his unconscious need to do things perfectly. The pathological insistence he feels to do things all by himself, and do them right. He relies on his experience to achieve these things, and looking back on what little experience he has with fathers, he knows it's not enough—not sufficient—to properly prepare him for a similar undertaking.

And he's fine with that.

He's got enough on his hands anyway, first as a student putting himself through veterinary school, and then with the clinic he works at. The elderly vet he studied under, and who owned the clinic, retired just before Megumi turned 30, and having worked together for almost a decade—first as a part timer, then a tech, then an assistant, and finally a partner—the old man gave Megumi the option of buying the business and taking it on.

Always thought of ya like a son, the old man had said to him one evening after closing, having dragged Megumi to the izakaya down the road to get a drink. Megumi doesn't even really like drinking very much, especially when he was due back at the clinic at dawn, but he indulged the old man who ended up ruddy cheeked and tipsy about as quickly as Megumi expected, given past experience. The conversation had taken him by surprise when his mentor had announced his retirement. 'S only right I pass it on to you, if ya want it.

The offer made something uncomfortable squirm in Megumi's gut. His fear of change rearing its ugly head. His doubt that he was ready to take on such a huge responsibility. The uncomfortably foreignness of being called someone's son.

Just think about it, the old man slurred, immediately picking up on Megumi's hesitation. Yer still a young fella, Megumi, but ya won't be ferever. Gotta start thinkin' about yer future 'ventually. Settlin' down, findin' yourself a pretty girl, babies.

Ah, the future. Yet another thing Megumi hates, in all its unknowable infamy.

Megumi eventually helped the elderly vet into a taxi to get home, and then went back inside the izakaya to drown his sorrows—early shift be damned. His head was a mess, full of a terrible spiral of thoughts about his future that now looked so uncertain, and while the beer he was drinking certainly didn't help him make sense of them, he hoped, however briefly, it might help him to forget.

When Megumi woke the next morning to the alarm blaring from his cellphone, he had a splitting headache thanks to the beer and he was sleeping in the narrow entryway to his apartment with all his clothes (and his shoes) still on. But even in spite of all of that, and the smell of soap clinging to him that he didn't recognize, he felt lighter, somehow—surer about things.

The old man signed the business over to him a month later.

It's been four years since then, and while it hasn't been easy, Megumi's been taking responsibility just like he always has. He does what needs to be done to keep the lights on. He treats his staff well. He takes care of any animals that come through the clinic's door—no matter how dire, no matter how far gone, no matter how they get there.

Yuuji in particular takes advantage of this good nature—showing up frequently, sometimes even after all the other staff has gone home, with some woeful little creature he'd encountered. Sometimes it's a stray cat he'd been called at the fire station to help out of a tree, sometimes it's a dog that he'd found in the road on his drive home from work, or a little bird on the sidewalk. And he gives Megumi the same desperate look every time, the same beseeching eyes, and Megumi curses the fact that the two of them are the same when it comes to this particular responsibility—before letting him inside to examine the new patient.

It's pouring down rain one night, and Megumi has just sent everyone home for the day with a word of thanks for their hard work, when he thinks this very situation is about to repeat itself when he hears a frantic thump! thump! thump! against the glass of the clinic door. Megumi, in his office, pinches the bridge of his nose. He'd even turned the lights out in the lobby so that he could pretend he wasn't there. He knew Yuuji was on his way home from work based on the animated sticker he'd just sent him via text, before offering to pick up some beer and come over, but he hadn't replied—and certainly hadn't expected him to make it to the clinic so quickly.

Megumi sighs, pushing himself up from his desk and padding out in his slippers to the front of the clinic. It's dark out, and hard to see with no lights on in the lobby, but there's a little figure standing outside the rain-covered glass of the door. They appear to be trembling. Megumi pauses, confused, before fiddling with the lock and reaching over to flip on the light beside the door.

What he sees when the door slides open makes him freeze.

Before him is a little boy, no more than four or five, soaked through with rain and shivering in the cold. He has teary green eyes, black hair that's weighed down by the rain, and round, rosy cheeks. Megumi feels sick when he looks at him.

A mirror image of himself.

The man is so frightened that he doesn't even say anything, just stares in horror at the little boy trembling outside the door. Megumi's never heard of a ghost story like this, those were always Yuuji's thing, but that must be what this is. Some kind of spectral being who's shown up to—

A little hand reaches out and tugs on his pant leg.

"Please help me," the little boy says, his voice weak and thick with tears. "Mr. Vet, I need your help."

Megumi watches with wide eyes as the little boy opens his raincoat, revealing a small mass of fur tucked against his chest. A rabbit, Megumi surmises quickly, once he sees the ear; a bunny in fact, when taking into consideration its size. Megumi can't even tell if it's alive because the animal is so terribly still where it's cradled to the boys heart.

He feels another insistent tug at his pant leg, the boy's hand still firmly clutching it. He looks at the child, who seems more determined now, his tears still present but his gaze a little more resolute.

"So, can you help me?"

#megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk drabble #jjk writing #writing #mini megumi #tw parenthood #tw pregnancy

[forever-rogue]

Hello! Could I request something where Eddie is Bi and he’s dating female reader and Eddie used to have a crush on Steve and reader knows and teases him about it such as in the boat where Steve takes off his shirt and throws it at him and reader knows he’s low key freaking out about it and she finds it cute how he reacts. Yk he obviously won’t cheat but he’s reminded of why he had a crush on him, that kind of thing you know?

AN | Okay but Bi!Eddie is canon to me and it would be so fun to tease him about his little crush 🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Bi!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.9k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hello handsome,” Eddie practically melted when he heard your sweet voice cut through his thoughts. You walked into the back of his shop, trying not to startle him if he happened to be under a car; luckily you heard him closing a hood before you were greeted with his smile. You weaved your way over to him, all soft and smiley and sugary sweet - a complete contrast to his current environment. You held out an ice cold bottle of water to him, which he eagerly took and started to chug, “figured you could use that today.”

"You're right baby," he closed his bottle and leaned in to give you a wet, minty kiss. You grabbed the front of his coveralls and pulled closer, kissing him again, "you're killing me."

"You've been gone all day," you teased softly, playing with a chocolatey rogue curl that had escaped his bun, "can you really blame a girl for missing her man?"

"Fuck no," he scoffed, "missed you too, baby. You look pretty today."

"You think this looks pretty," you dragged your fingers along the soft fabric of your dress' strap. Eddie was a simple man at the end of the day, and seeing you in a dress sparked some sort of primal urge, "you should see what's underneath."

"You're playing dirty," he groaned, trying to control himself so he didn't get a hard on in the middle of work. He wondered if it was either pretty lingerie or nothing at all. He'd find out soon enough he hoped, "I'm going to get you back for this."

"I hope you do," you patted his chest and gave him a soft, playful little push back, "so -"

"Aha," he sighed dramatically as he often did, "you have an ulterior motive. I should have known."

"Calm down, Edward," you laughed fondly, a sound that seemed to go straight to his heart and made butterflies flutter in his tummy, "its a good thing! I was talking with Steve and Robin today and they suggested we all spend the long holiday weekend at the cabin. What do you think?"

"You've already said yes for us."

"I've already said yes for us," you confirmed sweetly, "I didn't see why not. Unless you can't handle being stuck with your little boyfriend all weekend.”

“Stopppp,” he groaned, cheeks turned a pretty shade of bubblegum pink as tried to pull up his coveralls over his warm face, “I regret ever telling you I had a crush on Steve Harrington.”

“Baby boy, I am not blind,” you pulled the dark blue fabric away from his pretty face, “I know when you’re looking and when you’re looking. I think it’s cute, Eddie. Besides, you have good taste - Steve is a handsome guy.”

“Excusez-moi?” over exaggerated, in a horrible French accent. You loved this absolute dork.

“You didn’t let me finish,” you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips, “Steve is a handsome guy but you, Eddie Munson, are the handsomest and hottest man alive. My loins burn for you!”

“I…I can’t believe this is how the love of my life, my future wife, and the future mother of my children is acting,” with a hand on his chest, he hung his head and sighed deeply. Meanwhile your heart was rapidly pitter-pattering as your bones felt like jelly at the future wife and mother of my children comment. Eddie, loud and boisterous, had many times declared he was going to marry you and that you’d have all the children you wanted. But hearing it now still felt as electric as the first time. 

“I could say the same for you, future husband and father of my children,” but you were all fond smiles and soft eyes, “I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t work too hard, okay?”

“I’ll be home soon,” he reached for your hand and squeezed it gently, “wanna do Chinese for dinner?”

“Hell yeah,” you cheered excitedly, “I’ll call in and order-”

“And I’ll pick up on my way home,” he grinned.

“Excellent teamwork,” you loved him. You really, really loved him, “don’t forget - this weekend at the lake house!”

“Ugh!” 

He was still grumbling under his breath as you waved and walked out of the garage. How was he going to survive a weekend with you and Steve in bathing suits? He wasn’t going to, short and simple. 

But it would still be fun. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

 “Alright,” Steve Harrington was a natural leader. It was something he’d picked up quickly when he’d begun being everyone’s babysitter. But it was a role that suited him well and he looked so natural standing on the dock in front of the whole gang, arms outstretched as he tried to gather everyone’s attention. You were standing off the right with Eddie, hands entwined and fingers laced together. Robin was square in the middle, Nancy shyly tucked into her side; the newness of their relationship still strong. Jonathan and Argyle rounded out the group along with Chrissy Cunningham. A ragtag group of survivors that had turned to friends to found family. 

You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You knew Eddie was excited to be with everyone but you also knew that he was lowkey freaking out about Steve. Sweet, golden, wonderful Steve that was oblivious to the fact that Eddie had harbored a crush on him for several years before you came along. Steve was his best friend and his former crush, but you were the love of his life. He knew that much, and so did you. It was still just a little fun to tease him. 

“Listen up nerds,” Steve looked between all of you as you started to playfully boo him, “this weekend is all about being lazy and having fun. So, don’t drown, remember sunscreen, and if you’re going to have sex keep it down and safe.”

“Hell yeah,” you heard Argyle and Jonathan snickering among themselves as you pressed a kiss to Eddie’s bare shoulder. Your friends were absolutely ridiculous sometimes but loved them all.

“And don’t forget - bonfires at nine o’clock sharp. There will be s’mores and beers,” that had you all excited, “now go and have fun, children!” 

Everyone started to scatter as you took Eddie’s hand and started to pull him along to the house. He pretended to huff dramatically as you grinned at him. He looked so good with black shorts and a cut off tank, tattoos on full display, dark ink against pale skin. His mess of curls was pulled into a bun at the stop of his head, a few curls framing his face. He had on a pair of black ray bans and beat up vans on his feet, the pure essence of cool. 

“Come on handsome,” naturally he obliged you and let you drag him along, “let’s get changed and go swimming. It’s so hot and the water looks perfect.”

“Did you bring-”

“The red two-piece that has you practically drooling?” you barely managed to get your words out before squealing as Eddie picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, practically running into the house, “Edward! I didn’t even give you an answer!”

“I presume the answer is a big, fat yes?” He opened the door to the room where you would be staying during your trip. You huffed as he gently set you down on the bed before caging you in between his arms and kissing you softly. You leaned into his touch, pressing to pull away from him until you were in desperate need  of a fresh breath of air, “baby, baby, baby.”

“The answer to your question is a big fat no,” he rolled on his back and threw his arms out in mock exasperation, “calm down and let me finish.”

“You’re a cruel mistress!”

“I got a whole new bathing suit,” you rolled onto your stomach so you could face him. You reached up and touched his face, tenderly brushing your fingers along his cheek, “and I think you’re going to like it.”

“Sweetheart, you could be wearing a potato sack and you’d still be the most beautiful girl in the entire world,” your entire face softened at his world and you almost melted into a puddle, “and on top of all that, you’ve got the best and biggest heart of all.”

“And great tits-”

“And great tits,” he confirmed as if there was ever any doubt to that, “you’re the whole package baby. I love you.”

“I love you, Eddie,” you took his hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “you are the best man. Just so you know.”

He smiled at you, letting out a small wistful little sigh, “before we get too mushy, let’s get changed and get some sun.”

“That sounds excellent, my love.”

-

Okay. Okay. You hadn't been lying when you'd told Eddie that he would like this bathing suit. Bright pink and looking like it was made for you, fitting just as you liked and showing off all the curves you wanted to. You owned it and that in and of itself made you dangerously sexy. Eddie had to work to make sure he didn't get a hard on in front of everyone; he was glad for the cold water of the lake. He might have been drooling though…that was hard to control when you looked like that.

But - but - it got worse. He didn't think it could get worse than trying to control himself around you but then it did. He wasn't sure whether to curse you, Steve Harrington, or everything out in the universe. 

Once he'd calmed down enough and the two of you were playing around in the water, Steve Harrington came out to join you. He was wearing a pair of navy blue swim trunks and nothing else besides a pair of flip flops and sunglasses. He looked good and he knew it. 

And so did Eddie. His eyes raked over Steve's lithe, tan figure, which you quickly caught onto. Eddie studied his golden skin, littered with freckles and delicious chest hair. He swallowed thickly, the lump in his throat enormous.

You hadn't realize that Steve had come out at first but when Eddie suddenly fell silent you knew something was wrong. 

"Babe?" On his back on his float, chest already getting tan from the hot summer sun, was Eddie with his mouth hanging open as he stared straight at the dock. You followed his eyeline and almost laughed out loud when you realized what was going on. He quickly glared at you as you stifled your laugh which turned into a horrible snorting sound, "Edward."

"Sweetheart," he huffed like a child, pretty plush lips pulled into a pout as he looked at you, "affectionately - shut up!"

"You are the least conspicuous person ever! At least try to act like you're not drooling!"

"I am not drool-"

"Hey there."

You grinned at Steve as the boy swam over to you, a lazy smile on his face as he treaded water without effort. You splashed some water at Eddie as he remained silent, only a pained look on his face.

"Hey," he snapped to attention and looked between the two of you, brain overloaded with the amount of attractiveness between the two of you, "looking good, Harrington."

If there had been a wall in front of him, he would have been banging his head already. You snorted in amusement before floating onto your back and slowly swimming away with a wave. You were going to let them have their own moment.

"You too man," Steve had a smile so pretty that it was almost cruel. Eddie returned the grin with what he hoped was an equally lovely one, "being in love looks good on you."

"I-I'm not in love with you," Eddie's voice stammered and shook as he looked at Steve with wide, worried eyes. Steve tossed his head back with laughter. Oh. That wasn't what he was insinuating? Awkward.

"I know that," he reached over and gently tugged on one of Eddie's loose curls, "still hope you've got some love for me though."

"Duh," the two of them exchanged shy smiles, "always."

"Me too," Steve agreed and Eddie's heart started to rattle wildly in his chest, "wanna know a secret, Munson?"

"S-sure."

"It would have been cool if it would have been you," and just like that, Eddie was sure his heart stopped beating. The flow of the river around him seemed so loud and he was trying to convince himself that he was hearing incorrectly. Judging from the look on Steve's face, he hadn't heard incorrectly, "but I think we're on the right path regardless."

“Yeah,” Eddie knew that Steve was already devoted to Chrissy. The two of them clearly shared a deep bond despite only having been dating for a few months. When Eddie first learned that Steve was dating someone new, and then when he realized it was another of his friends, he could admit that some jealousy flared up. It was natural, and that was what you tried to explain to Eddie. Even though the two of you had each other and you both knew that you loved each other, it was a normal human emotion to still feel things for other people, “I agree.”

“And just so you know, you’re the most attractive guy I’ve ever met,” Eddie’s cheeks were already pink from the sun he’d been getting - he wasn’t good at remembering to apply sunscreen despite your insistence - but they just turned about ten shades darker when he heard Steve’s confession. Steve bit his lip as he blushed as well, “and you’re my best friend.”

“You’re my best friend too, handsome,” Eddie broke the bit of awkward tension that had settled in between the two of them. There was a moment of silence before the two of them broke into a fit of laughter. You’d found Robin and Nancy and the three of you were watching the boys in amusement. You’d all been taking bets on when, if ever, they’d reveal that they had had crushes on the other, “wanna go and grab a beer?”

“Hell yeah,” he agreed as the two of them high-fived. Steve started to swim towards the dock but Eddie paused for a moment as he turned around to wave at you, a goofy smile on his face. You couldn’t help but return the smile, your heart melting with nothing but affection for your man. 

He might have been a fool but he was your fool.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time all of you made your way back to your bedrooms. The bonfire had gone late into the night and all of you had been reluctant to go to bed despite the fact that you’d be there all week. This was a much needed trip for everyone.

“Hey,” you let yourself fall into the bed, laughing as Eddie copied you and jumped in next to you, easily putting his arm around you and pulling towards him. You couldn’t help yourself as you pressed kisses to his forehead, cheeks, and nose. He giggled at the soft touch of yourself before sighing softly as you draped yourself over him, “I love you, honey boy.”

“I love you,” he reached for your hand and laced your fingers together, giving your hand a small squeeze, “did you know that Steve had a crush on me?”

“I didn’t know,” you stretched out his arms and pressed kisses to his pale, inked skin, “but I knew. We all did. Wasn’t hard to see the two pretty boys oogling each other all the time.”

“We didn’t…oh,” his face between a range of emotions as he processed what you said. Suddenly it all seemed so obvious, “we did, didn’t we. Well, that would have been good to know a few years ago.”

“Excuse me?” you pretended to be shocked and hurt as you turned floppy in his hold, “are you telling me that you think Steve would have been the love of your life and the two of you would have been together living happily ever after?!”

“No way, princess,” he tenderly put his hand on your cheek and turned your face up to his, “you and I were meant to be. That’s never going to change. You’re it for me, baby.”

“I know,” you offer him a cheeky grin, “I just wanted to hear you say it, my love. Never gets old.”

“Then I’ll continue to remind you,” he pulled you down to his lips and kissed you sweetly, “every single day of my life.”

“Promise?” and yeah. He would do absolutely anything in the world for you.

“Promise,” he replied, voice low and soft, “but I’m still mad at you.”

“Mad at me?! Why?” you huffed and started to tickle him, causing him to dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“Because it should be illegal to be this good looking,” he huffed, “gonna be the death of me.”

“What about you?” you kissed him slowly, “you’re just as bad. Good thing we’re stuck together.”

“Forever,” he confirmed, “ahh, baby, I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Eddie. Lots and lots and then some more, goofy boy.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson imagine #bi!eddie #joseph quinn #stranger things

[luv4fushi]

gojo satoru who loves you so much it physically pains him.

gojo satoru who, despite being labeled as a playboy, has never allowed himself to be vulnerable. so when it comes to you, he finds himself so breathless that he can’t seem to find the rational part of his brain.

gojo satoru who convinces himself that he’s not in love with you until he can’t anymore. he needs you in the way a parched desert needs an oasis. he realizes it sooner than he wants to.

gojo satoru who pushes you away when you get into your first fight with him, burdening himself with his thoughts and blaming himself for hurting you. you find him crouched, curled into himself, his fists clenched and fingers white from the tension.

gojo satoru who turns into jelly when he’s with you. his hands never leave your body. he kisses you whenever he’s been apart from you for more than an hour. the infinity that coats his body like a thick layer of skin disappears because he’s sure he’s safe in your presence.

gojo satoru who cries during his wedding. he sees you walking down the aisle, body draped in the finest white fabric. you look so beautiful that his heart freezes and he has to cover his face to hide the fact that the tears won’t stop falling. he’s so, so happy.

gojo satoru who is ecstatic when you give him a pregnancy test with two lines on the little screen. he picks you up and hugs you like his life depends on it. he spends your entire pregnancy reading books on how to become a father. he paints a room for the nursery and refuses your help because the fumes are bad for the baby. he presses his ear against your warm skin and whispers sweet words to the unborn child.

gojo satoru who sobs when the baby is born. he’s holding your hand and thanking you profusely. thank you so much, my love. the baby is beautiful. you did so well. i’m so proud of you. he’s wiping away your sweat and tears, the anxiety leaving his bones when he notices you relax against the hospital bed. he can’t stop sniffling when he hears your baby whine in the nurse’s arms. his frosty blue eyes are soft—the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen them.

gojo satoru who yells, “where are my girls?” when he comes home from a mission. he picks your daughter up first, twirling her before setting her down and planting a sloppy kiss to your temple.

gojo satoru who changes the world for his daughter because he refuses to let her youth be stolen away like his had. he tells you that he doesn’t mind the strenuous work he has to do—as long as his favorite girls are safe and have a happy future ahead of them.

a/n: a little more casual ~! it doesn’t have the regular layout i use as u can see (ㄱ.ㄱ) but it’s bc i wanted to get this out quickly after i saw a cute clip from a kdrama >_< hope u enjoyyyy!!!

#gojou satoru x reader #gojo is such a sweetheart #he’s so mischaracterized #gojou satoru x you #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #gojo satoru headcanons #i love gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru

[purriteen]

Control - Coriolanus Snow, act i.

“Dulce puella malum est” / “Woman is a sweet poison" -Ovid

synopsis: A handsome young congressman catches your eye. After your one-night stand, your paths soon cross once more and it turns out he holds more power over your future than you thought.

warnings: smut, relatively vanilla, reader has mommy issues, somewhat ooc Coriolanus cause canon Snow has 0 rizz, a little misogyny if you squint (?), more to come in act ii. no use of y/n.

this can be read as a standalone.

author’s note: hopefully you guys don’t mind the difference in format compared to AdVS, I tried to make this less rushed and bare-bones 🫶🏻

I can’t believe I just used the word rizz. I’m so sorry.

(side note: I've no idea if there's any such thing as congress in Panem, but fuck it, I say he's gotta put in a little work before he becomes president)

red text - Snow's thoughts, pink text - reader's thoughts

act ii

He’d met you at some dull fundraiser gala. In your little pale pink dress, you’d immediately stood out from the crowd. There was something so innocent about your appearance, with your glossy pink lips and subtle eyeliner, the modest but luscious braid your hair had been done into. You looked ethereal - nothing like the other women of the Capitol, in their over-the-top vibrant coloured hair and their tacky avant-garde dresses. 

  Avantgarde - what a pretentious word. Trashy and conceited would be more accurate, although such taunts were better left to the districts.

  Oh, and those striking eyes which he soon realised were looking right at him.

  You weren’t ashamed to be caught staring, that much he could tell by the look on your face. He found himself intrigued by the contrast - your girlishly charming getup paired with the almost flirtatious hint in your eyes as you smiled at him. No, coquettish was more fitting a choice to describe the way you carried yourself - you were just demure enough to give off the impression that you simply didn’t realise the effect your presence must’ve had on most men you encountered.

  You were delighted as you watched him make his way over to you, stretching out his hand and introducing himself. Like a moth to a flame. You eagerly accepted, your perfectly manicured hand so very soft and light in his. No ring on your finger - he counted that as a win.

  He quickly recognised your last name. You were no one important, that much he knew, but there was something so enticing about you. Something so intoxicating about your presence.

  You on the other hand instantly recognised him from your days back at the Academy. Coriolanus Snow, professor Click’s star pupil. He was two years older than you, but rumours of his academic prowess, and of course, what happened to him after graduation, still circulated around the school by the time you yourself had been a senior.   He was quite the enigma -  he’d disappeared for an entire summer and returned a changed man, one cold and hungring for power that, as the heir to the Plinth fortune and the protege of the terrifying doctor Gaul herself, was well within his reach. He’d already begun climbing the social ladder too - last year he’d been appointed a seat in congress. 

  Many of your friends had harboured a crush on him, but he’d never allowed anyone to get close enough to take the plunge. Not even girls his own age, as far as you knew. 

  Even after graduating, and his brief disappearance from high society, you would’ve recognised that head of majestic blonde hair anywhere. He was tall and lean, of which the former was rare among those who’d grown up during the dark days. In his perfectly fitted black suit, crisp white button-down and burgundy tie, he practically embodied power; the fresh ideals and ambitions of this generation personified. 

  After a few dances and drinks shared, you had ended up in the back of his car, making surprisingly casual conversation about a new policy he’d put forth the other week. You could care less, but the effect it could have on your taxes gave you reason enough to feign interest. Besides - he could be a good friend to have in the future, if he continued down his path towards becoming a prominent politician like he always wanted. It wouldn’t hurt for him to think you were actually interested in his line of work.

  “Tell me, your last name - I don’t recognise it. What does your family do exactly?” He inquires.

  You’re somewhat caught off guard by the question. 

  Was it that obvious that you didn’t care for or know anything beyond the basics about this topic? Was he trying to spare you the humiliation of continuing the conversation by changing the subject?

  Trying to pull yourself back together, you swallow the lump in your throat and look up at him. No man or boy had affected you in this way since you were in middle school, and it both frightened and intrigued you. 

  Pull yourself together.

  “Oh, my parents own one of the biggest shares in district 4’s fishing industry. But where we make the real money from is the pearls gathered from the clam digging. Naturally they’re shipped off to district 1 for jewellery production and the likes, but we earn a decent cut from it.” You explain, a smooth and nonchalant tone to your voice, despite the nervous wreck that you were under his scrutiny. It was a good thing you’d learned to conceal your emotions early on - but clearly, so had he. You could tell he wasn’t quite buying your indifferent-heiress act.

“My parents keep trying to groom my incompetent little brother to become the heir, though. Shame.” You sigh, wanting to take his mind off of your possible faux pas. 

  He gives an understanding nod, his hand caressing the skin just above your knee, giving it a gentle squeeze.   “I’m sorry, I must be boring you with all this talk of politics. Let’s not talk about that now.” His voice drops just the slightest bit lower, and the look on his face sends a jolt of excitement straight down your spine, before landing right between your legs. 

“I may not be as knowledgeable as you, but don’t you think I’ve an interest in politics too, hm? It does concern my life and future as well. Especially all those bills and reforms being put forth as of late that’ll impact the family business.” You retort, although keeping your tone playful, which earns you a bemused glint in his icy blue eyes. He takes a couple seconds to consider his answer before he opens his mouth to speak again. 

  “Well I’m sure you do. But really, a sweet girl like you shouldn’t have to worry about that. At least, tonight you won’t have to, if you’ll let me.. take your mind off things.” He suggests, leaning closer as his gaze falls on your lips, thumb caressing your chin. 

  His playfully dismissive tone, the way he sabotages any attempt at proving yourself, everything about him is so very demeaning and arrogant. You want to hate it, you do hate it, the way he makes you feel like you’re no longer in control, but something about his attitude has you weak in the knees. Perhaps it’s the posca, or the way his slender thumb drags across your bottom lip that’s keeping you from thinking straight.

  “I do, I do need to worry about that, I’ve a stake in our earnings too,” You say softly, close to a whisper, followed by a few moments of silence as the two of you gaze at each other, waiting for the other to make a move. You certainly don’t plan on blinking first.   “But maybe, just for tonight..” You whisper almost inaudibly, allowing your voice to trail off.

  Against your better judgement you find yourself leaning in, inviting him to kiss you. And so he does. His warm lips crash onto yours, smearing the remainders of your pink gloss even more, his knee nestling its way in between your thighs within a manner of minutes.

  You gasp softly as he makes contact with your clothed mound, gently pushing him away. You flash him a kittenish grin, hand lingering on his chest.

  “Shouldn’t we wait until we get to your apartment? It would be quite the scandal if you were caught getting it on with a stranger in the backseat of your vehicle..” You allow your hand to glide lower, keeping eye contact as it dips all the way down to his belt. You hear his breath hitch in his throat, and some of your usual confidence returns at the confirmation that he wants you just as bad.

  “Well you’re not making it easy for me, dove.” He breathes out as he rests his forehead against yours, looking about as eager to rip your clothes off as you were his.    “I’m very sorry then, congressman Snow. But surely a man of your standing ought to have some more self-control?” You tease, managing to elicit a breathy chuckle from him.

  He soon pulls away, much to your disappointment. “I suppose so. We’re almost at my apartment, fortunately.” He wipes some smudged lipgloss from your chin with his thumb, before he presses a button on the inside of the car door right next to you to roll up the thick opaque partition previously separating the back from his driver, sat in the front seat.

  After giving the man the rest of the night off, he quickly ushers you out of the car and towards the entrance of one of those flashy new apartment buildings in the city circle. Your flat on Scholars road, which you’d intended to sell ever since you graduated university last year, paled in comparison.

  Even the foyer reeked of opulence and excess-everything. The marble stairs were lined with gilded railings, as was the elevator he so swiftly escorted you into. You obliged, and it didn’t take long for him to have you pressed against the wall whilst he trailed hot kisses down your neck. 

  You were only brought out of your daze when the elevator dinged, doors sliding open to reveal a lavish penthouse, somewhat resembling the apartment your parents had recently purchased in one of the remodelled Corso buildings.

  You've only barely taken your coat off when he swoops you up, which causes you to let out a surprised squeal as he begins to carry you towards what you can only assume is the master bedroom. He courteously places you down on the ground again, starting to undo his waistcoat as you unzip your gown and let it fall to the floor with a soft thud.

  He looks up at you through hazy eyes, blown wide with lust, stopping his efforts to unbutton his shirt when he sees your naked form. 

  Closing the gap between you, his hand delicately encircles your waist as the other caresses your cheek. "I wasn't expecting such an indecent choice of underwear paired with a pretty dress like that.." He murmurs onto your lips, ensnaring you in a cloud of lust and the nearly overwhelming scent of roses as his tongue slips past your lips, hands working behind your back to unclasp your lacy black and pink bra.

  It doesn't take long until you're both on his bed, your back pressed against his chest and his hand down your flimsy panties. His mouth trails hickeys and love bites down your exposed neck as one of his long, slender fingers pumps in and out of your sopping wet cunt. "Dirty little thing aren't you? Spreading your legs so easily for me.." He rasps against the shell of your ear, relishing the way your walls clamp down on his lone digit. "Needy too, I see," He chuckles, easily adding a second finger although receiving only a whimper in response.

  You whine at the stretch, thighs tremoring underneath him. With his fervent attacks on all the things that have you weak in the knees, you’re unable to focus on anything other than the pleasure. Just this once, you allow him to indulge you. Heat starts to build in your stomach as his pace quickens.

  “Quite shameful of you to sleep with a man you just met, isn’t it?” He whispers in your ear, his voice husky and roguish. Your cheeks flush bright red at the thought, knowing your family would hardly approve, and neither would the public.

  The last few months your father had been trying to set you up with the heir to a family who made their money manufacturing luxury furniture out of all things; truly second-rate. You’d always been ambitious, even if you’d never been particularly keen on pursuing a career - you knew you could do better, that you could truly marry up and attain the life of luxury and leisure your mother wanted for you, but he wouldn’t listen to either of you. If this got out though, he’d be both furious and humiliated, no matter how many times you’d already told him that you intended to do better for yourself.  

Wasn’t that what you were doing anyways? This was a matter of securing a match, a potential betrothal to a man who could easily give you everything you wanted. Yes, that was it. This wasn’t just some shameful rendezvous - if Coriolanus himself saw it that way, you’d make sure he came around one way or another.

  “Please, stop teasing,” you manage to mewl out, though it seems to have no effect other than to amuse him. 

  “What makes you think I’m teasing? Just be good for me and let me work this pretty pussy open.. Wouldn't want it to hurt for you later on, yeah?” He almost grunts in your ear when you clamp down tighter in response, his fingers coated in your slick as he pumps them in and out.

  “Look at that sopping wet pussy, hmm? Must’ve been a long time since a man last made you feel this good.” He curses lowly under his breath, carefully sliding a third finger inside, hushing you as you whine at the intrusion. 

  (He was right- it had, but he didn’t need to know that. You already felt powerless enough as is.)

  “Doing so good for me.” He tilts your head back to give you a gentle kiss, in stark contrast to his unrelenting ministrations, although his soft lips manage to soak up most of your muffled cries.

  Finally he seems to decide it’s enough, just as you’re nearing your orgasm, making his sudden retreat particularly frustrating. Nevertheless you eagerly oblige him as he manoeuvres you onto your back, only pulling back to give himself space to fully undress.

  You watch with anticipation as he undoes the rest of his shirt buttons, discarding the garment at the foot end of the bed before moving onto his pants. He gestures towards your pushed-aside panties as he undoes his trousers. 

  “You gonna take those off, dove? Or do I have to do everything myself?” He gibes, and your cheeks flush red as you hurry to lift your hips up and pull down your undies. 

  When you look back up your words get caught in your throat, eyes widening ever so slightly at the sight of him palming his cock, already having discarded his dress pants and boxers on the ground.   He’s bigger than you thought. The shaft is fairly girthy and just a little darker than the pale complexion on the rest of his body, the tip a reddish pink and beaded with precum. There’s a tidy patch of blonde hair at his base, just a shade or two darker than his platinum locks. You didn’t realise that was his natural hair colour. 

  “That’s better.” He groans softly at the sight of your now bare slit, still slick with your own juices and practically begging to be touched.   “C’mon, spread your legs a little wider for me.” He taps at your thigh, and you swallow thickly as you do so. You’re certainly no virgin, but so far he’s the biggest you’ve seen. At least he didn’t ask me to suck it, you think to yourself.

  His smug grin grows even wider when you wordlessly obey him, positioning himself on top of you and starting to rub the head of his cock slowly, teasingly up and down your puffy folds. One hand on his shaft, the other next to your head. 

  You let out a low moan as his tip catches on your swollen clit, which causes him to glance up at your flustered face.   “Oh, I won’t tease you any more. I’m sorry baby.” He coos at you, voice dripping with faux empathy. You don’t get much time to think about it though, as he soon places his tip at your soaked entrance, giving a firm thrust that already manages to nestle his cock about half as deep as your body would allow. He groans at the feeling, followed by a nearly inaudible gasp as he feels the ring of muscle squeezing his cock. 

  He lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to press his forehead against yours as he grabs your ankles and lifts your legs up to wrap around his waist. You humour him, heels digging into his back as you cling onto his muscled torso. His dominant hand reclaims its place beside your head whilst the other glides down lower to grasp at your hip, holding you in place so that he can continue without interruptions. 

  Already knowing it’ll be a tight fit, he goes slow in sliding himself all the way in, which you’re much grateful for. The stretch is already enough to make your eyes water. Finally he bottoms out, the two of you releasing a moan in unison when his tip collides with your cervix. Yours of relief, his of frustration. 

  There’s still another inch or two to go, but he’ll have to work on that over time. 

  Seeing that pitifully doe-eyed look on your face, your glassy eyes and wobbly bottom lip, he leans in to give you a gentle kiss, his hand leaving your waist to instead caress your rosy cheek, soothing you as best as he could.   “Taking it so well for me, mkay? Just stay still and let me do the work, pretty girl.” He mumbles onto your lips, his mouth soaking up your moans as he slowly pulls out and pushes back in, staying true to his word and thoroughly working your pussy open. 

  Your hands relent their position clutching the bedsheets beneath you, instead taking their place at the back of his neck in a surprisingly intimate moment, which he in turn welcomes with initiating a more enthusiastic kiss.   After a couple more thrusts he starts to grow impatient, and so he experimentally tries to coax himself deeper, but you only whine and press your hands to his pelvis in response, so he backs off. 

  You pull away slightly, giving yourself enough room to speak. “Too much, ‘s too deep,” you sniffle, internally scolding yourself for already allowing him to get you in such a sordid, outright pitiful state. 

  Coriolanus on the other hand seems pleased with himself, swiping at your tear-stained cheeks with his thumb. “I’m sorry, dove. I’ll go easy on you,” He lies, giving you a reassuring kiss on the forehead. Even in your fuzzy-headed, wrecked state, you think you can make out a sliver of empathy in his eyes. Perhaps even affection.

And yet it wasn't long before he was thrusting in and out of you again at a slowly but surely accelerating pace, just barely grazing your cervix with each thrust, enough to keep you on edge without explicitly breaking his promise. With the few brain cells left that aren't entirely consumed by him - his scent, the feeling of his hands on you, his dick pumping in and out so expertly, his arched brows furrowed in concentration, everything about him - you manage to preserve some semblance of dignity, biting back all the pleas you wanted to make. This small action is enough to give you the - albeit not very convincing - illusion of control.

You watch as his lips purse in dissatisfaction, immediately turning inwards to try and figure out what you've done wrong. But before you can dig any deeper, he's pulling back and straightening his back, his knees planted firmly on the mattress beneath you. His arms make quick work of untangling your legs from around his waist, instead pressing your knees to your chest and holding you in place with his large, pale hands.

The new position leaves you feeling so exposed and vulnerable in a way you'd never allowed yourself to before. Your mother's warnings not to let any man, especially no stranger, take control of you were always at the back of your head during your previous trysts, eating away at your already barren arousal. But with him, with this near stranger, everything was different. The foreignness of it all scared you, but not enough to fight off the nearly overwhelming pleasure that each of his unrelenting thrusts brought you. Each time the head of his cock brushes against that spongy spot deep inside of you, it sends a jolt of pleasure through you, more often than not accompanied by a raspy moan or a sharp inhale.

With this new angle, everything he does feels so much filthier, with that smug smile on his face as he stares down at you, observing your flustered, contorted form. All at his hands. You were entirely his to do with as he pleased, his in every sense of the word, even if just for tonight. You knew you'd regret this moment of treacherous pleasure and intimacy by sunrise, but in this very moment, you couldn't help but enjoy it. Being completely at his mercy.

Before you knew it you could feel your orgasm approaching. As if able to read your mind, Coriolanus repositioned his left forearm to stretch across the back of your knees, allowing him to use his free hand to fervently rub at your previously neglected clit. A gasp that quickly morphed into a throaty moan escaped your lips, although his mouth soon latched onto yours again, muffling the lewd sounds coming from your mouth.

Your hips buck up against his touch, walls clenching him tighter as you rapidly approach your climax. Your hands claw at his shoulder blades as he keeps pistoning in and out of you, groaning frequently into your mouth. You can tell he's getting closer too by the sudden lack of precision in his movements, which you take great delight in.

Thank god it's a safe day today.

Just a couple moments later you go over the edge, your cunt spasming and gripping at his member like a vice as you cum hard. In this moment you're grateful for his aggressive kiss, as it manages to stifle the guttural moan ripped from your throat somewhat.

He soon follows suit. Releasing an animalistic groan into your mouth he shoves himself in all the way to the hilt, where his spend spills from his throbbing tip, revelling in the way you squeeze him even tighter in response to the deep penetration.

Finally, as you're both slowly coming down from your highs, he breaks the kiss and retreats, his eyes fixed on your groin as he slowly pulls out, watching as your lips cling onto his shaft.

It's like you're trying to suck him back in.

He slumps back next to you on the bed, and you both lay there for a few minutes catching your breaths in awkward silence.

You're nothing short of exhausted. That was likely the most intense sex you've ever had, and consequently, one of the strongest orgasms you've ever had.

Then, finally, he informs you that he's gonna take a shower and gets up, quickly heading towards the en-suite bathroom. The last thing on your mind before you drift off to sleep is his pale, sculpted back and the fresh scratch marks you just left on it.

#banner credit: @benkeibear #tbosas fanfiction #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #smut #smut with plot #eventually #young president snow #president snow

[shelbgrey]

Hi! alright? could you do a fanfic where the reader (or y/n) is Emmett and Rosalie's adopted daughter and they just LOVE the fact that she's a redhead? they love her freckles all over her cheeks and fiery red hair, not only them, but the entire Cullen family, they love it!! And maybe one imagines where someone at school admires her for her fiery hair and vampires don't like it! Idk ❤️.

Forever now(Emmett Cullen and Rosalie Hale)

Paring: Daughter!Reader X Emmett Cullen x Rosalie Hale.

Summary: normally when a child in need crosses the path of the Cullens carlisle is always willing to find a spot in his family for them but when a small red-head crosses their path its Rosalie's turn to start the family she's always wanted.

A/n: I love this request so much. I love purness in it and I'm excited to write my first Twilight request.

A/n #2: request are currently closed so I can work on my Emmett Cullen series.

MasterList

The little girl with firey hair story starts a little while back. The little girl was no less than two when she we welcomed into the Cullen family. The little girl's mother had died while giving birth to her and her father was unfit to take care of her.

The soul residents of small town in Alaska became concerned for the red-head child which led her in the hands of the chief of police. This was Beyond the cop's knowledge, so of course he called Carlisle Cullen who was head of the hospital he worked at the time. He had brought the small red-head girl to the hospital and Carlisle was in aw as the small girl stared at him with big doe eyes, almost too shy for her own good.

Carlisle knelt down to her hight and offered his hand. He smiled softly as the little girl approached him carefully. She was clueless to the situation but she knew she could trust the blonde doctor with gold eyes.

Alice had a vision of the red-head girl with freckles but the version she saw, Carlisle and Esme adopted her. Alice's visions had never been so wrong...

Not even the 300 year old vampire could explain what happened that day. As the little girl wondered around the bright house she curiously walked up to Emmett. He was setting in the living room playing video games when the small girl poked his knee a mumbled a small word...

“giant”

It was the first time they heard her talk and they were not disappointed. Emmett chuckled at the smell girl as she hugged on his giant leg. She didn't shy away from him. She did the same with Rosalie.

The family have never seen her this happy. She had gotten home from late from a shopping trip that same night and she was in love as soon as she saw the little girl's fuzzy red hair and beautiful freckles setting on Emmett's lap.

“who's this?” she smiled. The little girl waved at Rosalie and had a big cheesey smile. Rose loved every part of the little girl. In her eyes she's was perfect, from her red hair to her freckles.

The little girl stayed for about a week before the family made the decision of what would the future would be. As that week passed Rosalie grew more and More attached. She would always make sure she ate well and would do her hair everyday. Just like a mother would.

As for Emmett he was slightly afraid to be around the small human. With his bone crushing strength and everything else that came with being a vampire he would never forgive himself if he hurt her.

Of course that didn't stop the little girl. She would giggle and follow him around where ever he went. If he was working on his jeep she would laugh and crawl under it with him. If he was playing video games she would crawl into his lap begging him to read her a story.

All that two year old understood was, this was her home and the people around her was family. She was so young her brain told her Emmett and Rosalie was Mommy and Daddy. Which led Rosalie to life aultering decision after that one single word that fell out of Little red's mouth.

'mama'

Edward nor Jasper could even put into words how happy she was. When she heard that she was glowing with happiness as she held the little girl.

“mama loves you darling” she mumbled. After that the family knew she had a home there and they also knew Rosalie would fight tooth and nail for that little girl.

That night Rosalie layed on the couch as the little girl slept soundly in her arms. Emmett quietly joined her with a huge grien. “okay” he simply replied.

“okay?” she chuckled not really catching on.

“she's ours Rose” his smile only got bigger as he watched his mate hold the little girl with nothing but pure happiness.

“your mommy and daddy love you so much little y/n” Rosalie said kissing her sleeping head.

And that's how the little girl with red hair and freckles became y/n Hale-Cullen. The little girl brought so much joy into the family and each family member ment so much too her.

Emmett and Rosalie of course were #1 in her eyes but as she made herself comfortable in the family she also made meaningful relationships.

She was a listener and an observer so she quickly caught on that carlisle and Esme were her parents 'parents'. She would often call carlisle, Car or pops. When she was little she couldn't properly say his name which lead to Car and pops. Carlisle became close with the small child as well, he loved her personality and loved it when she'd ask about being a doctor. Then Esme. Y/n grew close with Esme immediately, if she wasn't with rose then she was with Esme.

Her Aunts and Uncles were the same. She'd never say it out loud but Jasper was her favorite uncle. Jasper would say y/n was the only thing pure in his life, but that was true for all of them.

Then there's the who vampire thing. Y/n wasn't stupid and of course she wanted to know why mom and dad never ate gold fish crackers like she did and she wanted to know why when ever she had a bad dreams mom and dad weren't in bed asleep when she ran in for comfort.

She was about six years old when she found out. She knew she had to keep it a secret and she was very good at it. This also led to Rosalie's fear of her becoming a vampire. Of course she wanted her daughter to be around Forever, but her heart broke eveytime she thought about the opportunities that would be tooken away from her. Which is why she's now 16 and looked the same age as her uncle Edward.

Y/n would never say it out loud but she was sick of it. She wanted to be like her family and it was hard for her grow up while everyone else in her family remained the same ages. She wanted her mom's gold eyes and her father's strength... She just wanted to feel normal in what she felt was a normal family but here she was, now 16 going to High school with her parents and her Aunts and Uncles.

Just livin' the dream...

--------( ....... )--------

So far Forks was y/n favorite palce to live. She's been just about everywhere, that came with being a Cullen. But something about this town was special to her. But the down fall was all the curious eyes. She didn't like the attention her family received. She hated how people would watch them... She hated how people watched her and that made her have second thoughts about the thing everyone loved about her.

She's was going through a 'phase' at least Emmett and Rosalie hoped it was. Her phase was she didn't like how her hair looked, no matter how many times Rosalie or Esme would tell her how beautiful she was. But no matter what she did with it everyone still seemed to be in aw about it.

Especially the boys at Forks High...

As I said before she hated how people watched her. Her beautiful hair is the reason why people watched her. She started to resent it no matter how many different ways Rosalie or Alice styled it or how many times Carlisle would say how beautiful it was. She just hated the attention. She hated the attention the high school boys gave her.

“Hey, y/n” Mike Newton said one day as she was leaving her English class.

Y/n wasn't a socializing type, hell she was shy. She would just mumbled a small hello with a smile. Mike continued to walk with her and eye her up and down.

“your hair is pretty today” Mike smiled. It was a nice thing to say, yes but as he said it y/n passed her uncle Jasper.

“Hey I was wondering if-”

Jasper slammed his locker shut in anger as he felt impure feelings the teen felt for his niece. In Mike's defense he truly liked her but he would never be her type. Jasper took on the role of the big brother he played at school and walked up to the two.

“hi y/n” he said glaring at Mike. Y/n rolled her eyes as milk gulped.

Jasper continued to walk down the hallway with the two as he intimidated Mike. Y/n sighed and looked down in embarrassment but at the same time thankfull it wasn't her father. Emmett would have made it ten times worse.

“Hey Mike, weren't you gonna say something?” y/n asked softly as they walked to their next class with Jasper.

He shrugged. “I honestly don't remember” he said staying silent in fear of what Jasper would do. They then walked passed Alice and Rosalie in the hallway he recoiled even further as he felt Rosalie's percing eyes. Rose didn't say anything though, she knew her daughter was safe with Jasper. She also knew Emmett would have a cow if he found out.

Despite the angry eyes of the Cullen family, Mike couldn't stop looking at her beautiful red hair. He loved the way the curls perfectly framed her face and bounced as she moved gracefully. But you just don't look at y/n Cullen like that. No matter if you have good intentions or not.

So Mike failed and so did a handful of others at school. Jasper of course kept it a secret like y/n asked but his mind would wonder and if it wondered to that one faithful day Edward would find out. And Edward refused to lie to Emmett or Rosalie when it came y/n.

This would lead to Emmett putting the fear of God in Mike dispite his daughter's pleas. Yes she found him annoying but the kindness Esme and Carlisle had tougher made her fear for Mike.

Tyler was the only one who was close to even getting a date with her. She actually liked him at one point but then he moved away. But after that y/n stopped showing interest in the boys of her school. She stopped even if they still loved her and her red hair.

Those human boys never mattered to her. There was no possible future due to her life style and family. They especially stopped mattering after she found her mate Benjamin...

The first thing Benjamin noticed about her was her freckled covered cheeks as she smile. He couldn't help but smile with her. He was in love with her firey red hair and couldn't stop staring at how it perfectly layed on her shoulders or how it reminded him of the sunsets at his home.

All the things she grew tired of because of the boys at Forks High, she grew to love because of Benjamin's genuine compliments and love he had for the things that made her stand out.

#Emmett cullen #Emmett cullen x reader #Emmett cullen imagines #Rosalie Hale #Rosalie Hale x reader #Rosalie Hale imagines #daughter!reader #Twilight #New moon #Eclipse #Breaking dawn #Twilight imagines #Cullen x reader #Cullen family #Carlisle cullen #Esme cullen #Alice cullen #Edward cullen #Jasper Hale #Benjamin x reader #Twilight benjamin #Twilight benjamin x reader

[luminalunii97]

Recently, 227 out of 290 members of Iran parliament voted to execute those who were arrested in the past 8 weeks of uprising. According to Human Rights Activists News Agency (HRANA), the number of arrested protesters are more than 14,000 people. Islamic republic has a long history of mass murders. In the 1988 massacres of political prisoners, more than 30,000 people were executed. In 2019 protests, the government killed more than 1,500 protesters during the internet shutdown. They never stop their criminal ways because blood and bone is the foundation of their reign.

These people, who have the dream of freedom in mind, are going to be sentenced to death if international human rights organizations don't do something about it. We're not talking about nameless faceless people. These 14,000 lives have friends and families, pets and lovers. Let's get to know some of them:

This is Hossein Ronaghi. He is an iranian blogger and human rights activist. He's also a computer programmer and one of his activism areas is internet restrictions and how to go around them. He has a long history of political activities and since 2009 protests, he has been a political prisoner on and off. During current protests, he was called to turn himself into Evin prison or his family will be in danger, so he did that. But even though he was there voluntarily, security forces violently attacked him and beat him. Currently he's in prison with broken legs and no medical attention and a 46-day-long hunger strike. His life is in danger.

These are Elaheh Mohammadi and Niloofar Hamedi, the two journalists who covered Mahsa Amini's murder news. This is not the first time the government arrest and punish someone who spread a crime news instead of arresting those who committed said crime. Media freedom is a joke in Iran and those who speak the truth get silenced. A while ago in an interview with Shargh daily, the newspaper Niloofar works for, she addressed sexism in her field of occupation and explained: "sometimes a female journalist would think with herself maybe I should just give up this job, this job has many safety issues and the salary isn't good at all. but most of them stay. Women journalists never give up."

This is Fatemeh Sepehri, a political activist. She oppose Khamenei leadership and demands a democratic future for iran. She's a mother who lost her child custody to sexism. Her husband was a martyr of Iran-Iraq war. Her brother is also a political prisoner. She was kidnapped at the beginning of current protests and is being kept in solitary confinement.

This is Leyla Hosseinzade, former Tehran university student. She didn't believe in hijab and still doesn't. She refuse to wear hijab while in jail and that put her in a dangerous situation with security guards. She's currently on a hunger strike.

This is Faezeh Barahui, a young Baluchi girl who was arrested during protests in Zahedan, has been in prison for weeks.

This is Fetemeh Mashhadi Abbas, a professor in Shahid Beheshti university of medical sciences. She was kidnapped and is now being kept in Evin prison.

This is Toomaj Salehi, Iranian rapper who's songs are mostly protest songs aimed at the regime. He was brutally arrested and is under heavy torture at the moment.

This is Nazila Maroufian, a journalist who's in Evin prison because she interviewed with Mahsa Amini's father.

This is Marzieh Ziari, a women's rights activist in iran who was arrested and her current condition is unknown.

There are many many many more people. This is just a thin list of more known ones. According to HRANA, among all these arrested citizens, 1,941 of them have been identified and their arrests have become publicly known, 438 of them are university students. Children are among prisoners too but their number has not been reported. The wellbeing or placement of some prisoners are not known and that causes a lot of concerns.

#iran news #iran #mahsa amini #iran protests #feminism #politics #human rights #political activism #middle east politics #political prisoners #freedom of speech #media freedom #woman life freedom #middle east #muslim women #islamic republic of iran #stop executions #human rights violations #united nations #unicef #human rights watch

[lament4piligrim]

Frozen heart knows no pain

Arranged marriage AU, pre-MK1

Angst, No Comfort (at the beginning), Hate/Love, Jealousy

Before and after marriage Bi Han is in relationship

Brothers do love his partner (not legitimate wife, but they respect her)

Bi Han ignores (or try) his wife, while his partner tries at least befriend her

Wife is an excellent healer, but she hides her true powers because of an accident

Wife does not interfere in the relationship and avoids any contact with Bi Han, his partner and brothers

Her bestfriend is Sector

Character names are fictional, you can use your own

Prologue

If someone asked Bi-Han what, or rather who, he hated most in the world, he would have answered without a second thought: his own father.

He hid his hatred deep inside him, behind a mask of cool indifference, promising himself and his mother that none of his family would notice it. At least not until the right moment.

The eldest heir sought to become an unique Grandmaster, one that had never before existed in Lin Kuei. He spared neither himself, nor his brothers, nor his loyal warriors - since he was assigned to keep an eye on trainings, he toughened them up to bring out the most resilient and strongest who would become the backbone of his clan in the future.

The first benefits he tasted a few years later, when his mother's death and his father's cold "I'm sorry" didn't haunt him at night.

When the ice in his heart was melted by the warrior in whose eyes he saw stars and whose tinkling laughter captivated his mind.

She had joined Lin Kuei willingly, loving martial arts with all her heart that she had to run away from home because of her parents' prohibitions. She probably wanted to prove to herself and the world that she could protect herself and those she loved, that she was worthy of something more than just a young girl who was stuck in the village for good.

Bi Han thought that such a fragile and insolent girl had no place in Lin Kuei. She dared to contradict the words of the eldest heir and even more so to argue with him, finding it amusing. Not surprisingly, she quickly found favour with Tomas and Kuai Liang. Together, they never missed a moment to mock him. It was annoying as hell.

However, Bi Han couldn't help but notice the wounds and bruises on the girl's arms. The results of hard work and determination. The first thing he realised as he began to look at the girl differently.

He saw the way she agonised her body, balling her fists into bloody knuckles and clenching her teeth tightly as she broke bones. Saw her rise up, unwilling to admit defeat in practice fights. Saw her eyes shine with excitement when she would take down her opponent and then happily help him back to his feet with a satisfied smile. Her smile was like the sun that warmed on spring evenings.

And Bi Han realised that he was deeply in love with her.

He tried to change, to become more open… to let her into his world, to shield her from evil, to protect her at all costs. Only for her to smile at him, not expecting him to blame or criticise her.

He truly felt happy when she kissed him first. Shyly and awkwardly, standing on tiptoe and putting her hands on his broad shoulders. Her face was crimson with embarrassment, and yet she couldn't stop smiling foolishly, as if she had received the most precious gift.

It took a few more years before the whole of Lin Kuei was aware of the relationship between Bi Han and the fox (as they nicknamed the girl for her playful nature). Both weren't shy about showing how much they loved each other, and sometimes fought in public if they saw each other in strangers' company trying to flirt with them. Fox could even throw a tantrum, but Bi Han was skilfully able to suppress it by not letting the girl go all night.

His relationship with his brothers improved, thanks to her. They began to spend more time together, and Kuai Liang thanked fate for giving them Mingzhu.

The Lin Kuei warriors thought that nothing would shake this strong alliance. Even those who disliked Mingzhu didn't doubt it.

Things began to crumble when Grandmaster made the decision to marry Bi Han to the daughter of an important and close ally of the Lin Kuei.

Chapter 1

P.S. Probably I'd publish it in AO3. As I said, you can use your names for characters, or even put yourself in their place

#mk1 #bi han #kuai liang #mk #bi han x reader #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #sub zero #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 2023 #tomas vrbada #pre mk1 #arranged marriage #angst with a happy ending #bi han hates his father #Kuai Liang and Tomas don't about father's attitude towards Bi Han #OC doesn't seek Bi Han's attention/love

[hana-no-seiiki]

YANDERE! BATFAM W/ MILES MORALES (BUT GENDER NEUTRAL) ! READER

[ PART ONE ] [ PART THREE ]

GENERAL CW/TW: Spoilers for Spiderman: Into the Spiderverse. Typical Yandere themes of stalking, violence and whatnot.

PART CW/TW: Reader gets called a beauty (beauty/beautiful is gender neutral fite me).

EXTRA: also uh mind you most of my knowledge on the boys come from reading fics so if i get any of my info wrong feel free to correct me

current status: unedited

summary: reader gets into multiverse related hi-jinx and almost gets their ass broken if it weren’t for a tired, definitely sleep deprived senior catching them. (it’s tim you guys)

Reply if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

WHAT’S UP DANGER

(PART TWO)

“I like tall buildings so I can leap off of ‘em,

I go hard wit’ it no matter how dark it is.”

Turns out being a hero is hard skill to learn. Especially if you were working on a time limit.

You had recently gained the ability to uh- well you didn’t know what exactly. All you knew is that somehow you were at least 5x as strong as you were before and a lot more sticky.

Not to mention your senses were all over the place.

It’s like you could see, hear, smell and feel everything.

You didn’t really want to avoid Damian, but whenever you came across him — or just went within his immediate vicinity. Your “tingles” and enhanced “senses” would flare up and make you dizzy.

Usually it’d only be that bad when there were projectiles or insects around you. You surmised it was probably your powers warning you of the dangers he may potentially bring. Whether it’d be from himself (the heir must have some sort of self defense skills) or his name (you didn’t want to think of the target you’ve put on your back both in school and life in general by being his acquaintance. Jesus [Y/N]. Being distracted by your future and planned failure in academics doesn’t excuse letting that happen. Stupid.).

You were mostly stumbling around with your strange set of abilities until you met this girl named Gwen.

First of all, she was just — incredibly pretty. You couldn’t but just stare at her sometimes and—

Getting back on track — !

After getting some spidey sense feedback loop and ripping off a massive chunk of her hair. You find out that you’re this universe’s “Spiderman.”

And that she, was from another universe entirely.

Even a big sci-fi junkie like you had to doubt her words, but as she showcased her abilities you pretty much went on your knees and begged her to teach you.

The both of you get to work quickly. Investigating how she got to your universe and practicing the use of your powers.

The first part went really well. You even met a few other dimension traveling spider-people (and animal) along the way. After sneaking into a lab, you found out that it was a rich man’s, King Pin, “bring his family back project” that brought you all together. But that his actions were probably going to destroy the fabric of reality if he kept going.

The second part, not so much. Your stickiness was something you just couldn’t control.

Luckily it was winter break and that prevented you from ripping another schoolmate’s hair off.

Your “universe specific” abilities, as the other spider-people called it, like invisibility and bio-electricity only came out at random. Sometimes at the most inconvenient times.

Your webbing abilities were subpar to say the least. Many attempts led to you breaking several bones.

Praise super-regeneration and all

But f u c k did it still hurt.

and it was during one of those web-swinging practice sessions when you fall into the arms of Tim Drake.

Tim was just trying to get some fresh air.

After passing out on duty last night and having to deal with Damian suddenly abandoning his missions for some reason. He decided that maybe it was time for a break.

He didn’t exactly expect to have a young adult falling into his arms during said break.

He was just talking a casual stroll really. In a relatively quiet part of Gotham, he didn’t expect much to be happening much less a pretty/handsome giving him a small wave as they sheepishly laugh at their . . . strange encounter.

“ Hey. ” You smiled at him. Praying to all that is holy that he doesn’t notice the bits of undissolved webs you have littered across your hoodie. Thank goodness you didn’t wear your makeshift mask today. He was going to think you were even more of a weirdo than you already are!

“ Hey. ” Tim replied. Praying to all that is holy that you don’t notice his heart rate picking up and his ears turning red. It was the cold he swears! The cold!

“What’s a beauty like you doing around in a place like this?”

They both ask in sync with completely awkward delivery to boot.

Taglist: @vanessa-boo @w31rdg1rl

[ PART THREE ]

#yandere batfam x reader #yandere x reader #yandere batfam #yandere damian wayne x reader #yandere tim drake x reader #yandere jason todd x reader #yandere dick grayson x reader #yandere robin x reader #yandere bruce wayne x reader #yandere damian wayne #yandere tim drake #yandere jason todd #damian wayne x reader #tim drake x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader #yandere nightwing x reader #yandere batman x reader

[ell0ra-br3kk3r-writes]

The Phoenix and the Crow

pairing: (future) kaz brekker x fem!reader

genre: nutural

el's thoughts: soooo... i didn't plan on ending it this way but here we are haha i guess a part three is now in the works :) also please remember to reblog the fics you really like!

masterlist

Y/N tried to quiet the clicking of her boots as she crept around the back of the sandskiff, making her way below deck. She found the trap door and quickly slipped down the wooden ladder. She placed her hands on the wall and tried to find a crack between the floorboards above in an attempt to see Alina. However, she froze in her place once she felt arms wrap around her shoulders, a knife pressed to her neck. Instead of lighting a fire between her fingers as a warning, she let the unknown being guide her to where two familiar men stood. The zemini and kerch from earlier. “You-”

“Who are you?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “Y/N L/N, inferni. Lieutenant General of the second army. Well, ex-lieutenant, I now assume.” A gasp slipped from the person behind her and she was instantly released from their hold. The suli girl for before stepped around her and moved to stand beside the other two. The trio looked like a rough-patch group of criminals. Ketterdam. She could only assume that’s where they were from. “Now it’s only well-mannered to tell me who you are given that I just told you who I am. Very willingly, mind you, I could’ve easily set a controlled fire loose. So…” She held out the ‘o’ as she waited.

“Jesper Fahey,” said the tallest of the group. 

“Inej Ghafa.”

“Brekker.” His rich coffee-brown eyes bore into hers as if trying to read her soul. The dark lighting cast shadows over his sharp facial features. “Kaz Brekker.” His voice held much reluctance as he spoke his name.

“And I’m safe to assume you’re all criminals. Now that leaves me with one last question…” She spun on her heel and walked around, glancing over her shoulder every so often, inspecting the room. “What business do you have on this skiff?” 

The trio shared a look and said nothing. Y/N hummed, “Okay… Avoid in silence, fine.” She sighed, “I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me, but I will get up there and I will be leaving this skiff with the sun summoner.” She eyed them all carefully, but her calm expression didn’t last long when another voice spoke up. 

“I’ll be with you then.” 

The four of them turned around so quickly that her head hurt. “Mal. Of course.”

“He’s with you?” The lanky man with his top hat pointed his gun between the two.

Y/N shrugged, “I guess so.”  The hairs on the back of her neck pricked as she felt someone’s eyes on her, unmoving. Kaz Brekker. The name seemed slightly familiar as she sorted the names in her mind like files in a cabinet. Criminal from Ketterdam. Bastard of the barrel, Dirtyhands. He made quite a reputation for himself. 

His eyes, were cold and unfeeling as he stared shamelessly at her. She could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to piece together her story, she assumed, just as she did his. Fair. 

The sound of sand shifting was heard around them, and screaming was heard almost instantly after. Horror settled in her bones as the realization of what the Darkling was doing washed over her. “He’s moving the Fold.”

Mal ran to the stairs and lifted the trap door, gunshots were heard following his pounding steps on the deck above them. Y/N followed quickly, flames licked up her hands as soon as her head was above the wooden panels. In comparison to Mal, her footsteps were much quieter as she snuck up another set of stairs to where Zoya Nazalensky stood. A man in the familiar red grisha uniform stood there and was quick to notice her. Y/N threw up her hands, aiming a jet of flames straight toward his chest. All she needed was one loose thread to catch fire but luck or the saints weren’t on her side. He was quick to bring his hands together and within seconds she felt him grab ahold of her heart. Just as fast a knife flew right beside her head into his shoulder and a strong gust of wind knocked him back to the sand below the skiff. Inhaling deeply she saw Zoya and Inej to which she nodded her head in thanks. “Zoya, stop this skiff.”

~

The silence of the crows processing was heavy as they followed the others out of the fold. Y/N and Zoya took the lead, their voices were heard in hushed whispers while they set up a circle of logs and a fire for everyone to sit around. Mal and Alina walked far enough to change into the clothes they took from the skiff. Kaz, Jesper, and Inej sat next to each other, the latter two threw glances toward Kaz when they saw his scheming face. Trying to figure out what happens from this point forward. 

Once Mal and Alina came back she threw her black and gold kefta into the fire.

“I didn’t think it’d actually burn.” 

“Just like Kirigan, it can be destroyed after all.” 

Y/N watched the pair from the corner of her eye. Her stomach couldn’t settle, she felt like something was still off. Her eyes drifted back to the shadow fold, her own thoughts consuming her before a voice snapped her out. 

“Where do you plan to go from here?” Zoya’s voice was quiet but still in its usual stern tone. Y/N sighed, “I’m not sure. I have nowhere that I need to go so maybe I’ll travel for a while. Where do you plan on going?” She felt Kaz’s burning stare on the side of her face which she tried to ignore. 

“My aunt was in that city when he expanded the fold. I have to go and at least search.” 

“Just know that what you may find there could haunt you for the rest of your life.” Kaz’s voice was low and coarse. Everyone’s eyes trained on him while Zoya spoke. “It will haunt me more if I don’t at least try.”

Y/N felt all of her senses narrow in on the fire, twirling her fingers around causing the flames to jump up and dance their way to her outstretched hand. The heat spread across her skin but it never burned her, never left her scathed only a bit red for a few moments. 

The Darkling is dead. They all finally have the freedom they’ve been chasing and they could destroy the fold once and for all, but the gnawing feeling in her gut never left. He’s still alive. And if he was still alive, they can count on him coming back stronger and with more reason to target them. Y/N knew firsthand just how quickly his anger could get out of control. Having worked so closely with him for a long time she saw sides of him that he never meant for others to see.

The sun summoner and her tracker walked back to the fire and stood beside the inferni. “We should make headway to the docks and catch a ship. Get out of here, right?” Alina looked to her mentor for direction but didn’t receive much help other than a dazed hum. 

The group of exhausted misfits, criminals, and soldiers started their way to the docs. Zoya left the group to continue her journey to make her own peace with the inevitable loss of her aunt.  

Once the ships came into view Y/N walked around asking which had the best price. She found one stopping in Ketterdam and then making its way to Novi Zem and got six tickets. She found a small section empty and sat down with the crows while Alina and Mal went to the edge by themselves. Silence settled over Y/N as she tuned out her surroundings, including the three people next to her talking about their adventures. 

Where was she supposed to go now? She couldn’t stay in Ravka, Alina doesn’t need her, and she has no family to go to or look for. She’d never felt so useless in her life and she hated it. There was a point in her life where she wouldn’t die for this freedom to travel but after being on a short leash held by the Darkling she has the itch to constantly be doing something productive. To prepare for something, as if she was to be at war her whole life. While she saw the flaws in that she couldn’t just find somewhere to settle either. 

“Next stop Ketterdam!”

Maybe a quick stop at Ketterdam wouldn’t hurt.

~*~*~*~

tagging: @rachelcarroll1819 @xcharlottemikaelsonx @khaleesihavilliard @simrah1012

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x y/n #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #ellora.writes

[hajihiko]

I’m not any of the anons from before but as a fellow kazuichi fan I’d personally love to hear you talk about why you like him if you feel like it! personally I was first drawn to his character design, I just thought he looked cool, and then the second he opened his mouth and revealed himself as a loser, I loved him like ten times more lol. I know some people think he’s ‘creepy’ but I feel like he keeps enough a distance from Sonia that he’s just a guy with a crush, and also his “don’t you ever just wanna take girls apart and see how their bones work” line lives in my head rent free

Ok well. Sorry dude (genuinely) but I dont think I think of him the way a lotta ppl do. Heres my take sorry if it ruins it

First of all, do I LIKE his character? No. I like what could become of it if handled well, in the future (same with Akane and Sonia and... a lotta characters tbh).

I dont want to gloss over that he was really not cool with Sonia. I DON'T think it was like, a simple silly crush like any other dude would have, I think he WAS inappropriate about it and (most likely completely unbeknownst to him) enforcing things that she genuinely could not stand. He was insecure and took it out on others as well as himself.

These are all character flaws. Every single character has them (some more than others). Fuyuhiko was genuinely a dick (as I have said many times, having anger issues isnt an excuse for the way he talks sometimes), Hiyoko is a bully, Ibuki is insensitive when se gets caught up, Impostor is condescending sometimes, etc. Kazuichi isnt the only one to be a jackass sometimes and t deny it is to deny his character, just as much as reducing him to only that is oversimplifying it.

What I like about Kazuichi is: the design.

(Ok jk but I do enjoy the design a lot)

I like the teenage insecurity. He thinks he wants to be a chick magnet, but gets scared when girls show an interest in him. His ideal woman is basically a barbie doll. He's a little too eager to see his boy bestie naked. He was so excited for a class retreat because he's never had one before. He was so desperate to be cool and tough and not a nerd that he drastically (and no doubt painfully, ow, TEETH) changed his appearance to conform to his Ideal Self, but could not actually change his personality.

He's basically a teenage boy, warts and acne at all, trying so hard to be The That Guy but spectacularly failing. He's actually somewhat of a genius (and the Death Trap stuff hints to him having a lot of repressed turmoil which honestly so true, teenagers whose only outlet is fantasizing about the gory demise of their tormentors, SO TRUE) but he can't SEE that because he wants to be some kind of cool punk frat bro dude. He's so busy living up to some idealized version of himself that he fumbles who he actually is, which if he just took a moment, would be a pretty cool dude. Basically, did you ever discover a cool band and tried to model your entire personality after what you thought those vibes would be? That, but sad.

So yeah, I think he's great at comedic beats, and also has a lot of heart underneath it, but has never been in a place where he can just accept that and let it shine. His last words were basically "here I am, don't forget me!" which like, man, isnt that just relatable teenagerism?

#I dont like how many ppl excuse his behaviour towards Sonia like. It wasnt malicious but it was really insensitive. As a reader who doent- #-know his inner mechanisms it was uncomfortable (you can hc him whatever u want but I'm speaking from just memory no hc). #He made a lot of awkward fumbles and missteps as did a lot of the characters. But to me hes just such a teenage dude #With all the insecurities and sexuality crisis and trying to impress in an environment where he has a chance to (as opposed to.. home.) #not an art #Sorry anon I disagree with you. But u did prompt me to actually talk about this so thanks!