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sapphic-coded · 9 months

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hey beautiful could u write about a nat x reader break up and there’s so much tension between them until they both break at a dinner party with the team and their dates 😋

Hey Friend! You're so sweet. I hope this lands somewhere in the ballpark of what you were hoping for. Thank you for the request!

No Use In You Trying, Baby

You are invited to a dinner party. Reluctantly, you go and run into your ex.

Natasha Romanoff x fem Reader

Warnings: Hurt feelings. Language Cap wouldn't approve of.

Word Count: 2.8k

You were content to spend all your time in your lab. It was your happy place. Your playground. This was where you could think clearly, and where all your best ideas originated from. Plus, it wasn’t as if you were hiding away in some basement cut off from the outside world. Your lab at the Compound was huge and had plenty of equally huge windows that allowed plenty of bright, warm sunlight in. And if you needed to socialize, there were plenty of people who walked by your lab daily.

But you didn’t want to socialize. You wanted to focus on your work because for the first time in months you were finally making progress. Broken equipment and weapons that had just been sitting in your lab were finally leaving polished and new. Projects that had just only been sitting nestled in the back of your mind were suddenly finding life. It was amazing what you could accomplish in a single day without any distractions.

You rolled backwards on your black swivel chair as you stared at your notes on the yellow legal pad in your hands. You were curious what Clint would think of your idea for this new arrow. The idea had come to you last night, and you had been thinking about it ever since. The back of your chair pressed against one of the many lab tables. You lowered your notepad and turned. All thoughts regarding your new arrow idea fled at the sight of the batons laying on the table.

You held the batons in your hands and your brow furrowed as your thumbs pressed down on the button built into the base of the weapon. The usual quiet hum of the electrical discharge was silent. You tapped both of the batons together as if that would fix the problem, but nothing changed.

A pair of arms wrapped around you from behind. Familiar, warm hands settled against your stomach while her chin came to rest over your left shoulder.

“I tried that too,” her voice brushed against your ear.

You sighed as you studied the twin weapons. “It shouldn’t be too hard to fix. It’s probably a broken conductor or…” You trailed off when you felt her hands travel lower. Her fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt.

Who the hell put those there?

“Incoming call from Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice penetrated the quiet of your lab.

You stood up and collected the batons. “Put him through.” You listened as Tony’s voice echoed throughout your lab. You carried the batons over to a growing stack of boxes running along the right side of your lab. You opened up the lid on one of the cardboard boxes as Tony went into detail about partnering up on another project he had in mind. You listened for key words while your thumb pressed down on the button at the base of one of the batons. You frowned. Still broken.

“I also need you at the Tower tonight,” Tony said.

You dumped the batons into the box. “Why?”

“Because I’m throwing together a little dinner party,” Tony replied. “Just the team. We haven’t done one of those in a while.”

“I’m busy,” your reply was automatic.

“You finished your last official project two weeks ago.”

“I’m working through my backlog,” you replied.

“Fine,” Tony said. There was a moment of quiet when you wondered if he had hung up the phone. Your question was answered when you turned your back to the boxes. “I’ll be very interested to see how you manage to do that without any power.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Trust me, I’m wearing my serious face,” Tony replied. “I can demonstrate if you want.”

The lights in your lab flickered.

“Fine. I’ll be there.”

– – –

You used to spend most of your time at Avengers Tower. This was where you got your start working for Tony Stark. When you first arrived at the Tower, you thought the labs there couldn’t get any better. You had been allowed to play around with tech you could only fantasize about. The amount of resources you had at your disposal was endless. It was fun. You loved creating weapons and upgrading equipment for the team. There were few things better than challenging yourself to create something better than the perfect project you just finished.

When you entered the Tower, you were tempted to just go to your old floor. You hadn’t been able to move everything from your old lab to your new one at the Compound. Playing around with what you had left behind seemed like a better idea than attending a dinner party. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to see the team. You did. But it hadn’t even been a month since your last conversation with Natasha. The one that had ended badly. You knew she would be here, and the last thing you wanted to do was see her. Because then everything you had been ignoring would come rushing back. You wouldn’t know what to say, and everything would just be easier if you kept your distance.

Too bad you weren’t going to get what you wanted.

When you reached the top floor, Tony was the first to greet you. It seemed you were the last to arrive as the rest of the team were talking amongst each other. You spotted familiar faces. Most of the team had brought along their dates. It made you want to leave even more, but you put on your best smile as you made small talk with the team. Thor was in the middle of telling you a tale of his most recent battle when you saw her.

She was standing near the bar talking to Laura. Despite trying your best to focus on Thor’s story, you couldn’t help but notice that she looked beautiful. Then again, Natasha always looked stunning. The black dress she wore now only complimented her features. Or rather, the dress acted more like a reminder of a lost privilege. You gripped your glass of expensive wine tighter at the thought. Privilege? You hadn’t lost anything like that. Just a relationship that was bound to crash and burn.

“...and then he went flying off the mountain,” Thor’s laugh drew your attention back to the god. “Never thought it’d end like that.” He shook his head and then took a long drink from his flask. “So, I hear you spend your time forging new weapons.”

“Uh, yeah,” you looked past Thor. Natasha smiled at something Laura had said. Stop it. You focused back on Thor and started talking about all the projects you had completed recently. You chose to only talk about the projects you knew would keep Thor’s attention: equipment upgrades, a very close to being completed laser sword, and an attempt to copy his hammer. He found that last bit very funny.

You were grateful when everyone was summoned to the table for the actual dinner. All you had to do now was eat the food, make a tiny amount of more small talk, and then you could leave. You already had your excuses prepared. But as you approached the table, you realized that Tony had thrown a curveball your way. Tony had gone through (or rather he had someone else go through) and assigned the team seats. You already had an idea of where this was going, and your suspicion was confirmed when you found your seat right next to Natasha.

You looked over at Tony. He winked at you, and you were tempted to leave. Instead, you sat down in your seat and set your expensive wine down on the table. You could do this. She hadn’t approached you yet this entire evening. The feeling of not wanting to interact with each other was mutual. You both could talk to other people. This was fine.

The smell of her perfume hit you first. It grabbed hold of you and yanked you back through countless memories. You remembered the smell of jasmine with the barest hint of vanilla flooding your senses when she pulled you in for that first kiss. You remembered how your legs turned to jelly, and you were terrified that you were going to fall. You didn’t fall. Somehow, you stayed on your feet until the kiss was over. Your mind had gone blank. You had felt painfully dumb. What were you supposed to do?

She smiled as her hands settled at your waist. “Aren’t you going to kiss me back?”

You looked to your left as she sat down in her seat. She looked gorgeous and happy. As if nothing life altering had happened. You felt a spike of jealousy. She probably had forgotten all about you by now. Breaking off your relationship hadn’t changed anything for her. You had been right to doubt your relationship all along. You had only been a convenient fuck. You were so stupid to believe all those promises she made you. She certainly couldn’t keep many of them.

You looked away and took a good, long drink of whatever Tony had poured into your glass. A wait staff appeared and set plates filled with delicious smelling food down in front of everyone. You set your now empty glass down, and another waiter appeared to refill it. You picked up your knife and fork and began cutting into the meat. You could do this. You should just pretend she isn’t here. Rogers was sitting to your right. You could always just make conversation with him.

“Is this what we’re doing now?” her voice was low enough for only you to catch.

You forced yourself to keep your focus on your plate as you continued to cut into the meat. Red juices leaked from what was probably a delicious cut of meat. “Yup.” You stabbed your fork into the tender meat and pushed it into your mouth. You chewed. Fuck. It was good. You heard her sigh, and you didn’t need to look at her to know she was also, most likely, shaking her head.

“It’s a bad move,” she said.

You bit back the first thought that came to mind and continued to eat.

“This is obviously a setup. They’re trying to fix things,” she continued when you didn’t respond.

You looked around at the table as you chewed. Everyone else was busy talking amongst themselves. You swallowed and still refused to look at her. “There’s nothing to fix.” She didn’t respond right away and you reached for your glass. Maybe this was all about to end.

“Then I suggest we play along unless you want to go through this again,” she said.

You set your glass down before you could take a sip and finally looked over at her. “I’m not going to play along.” You spotted the familiar look of frustration cross her face. It didn’t surprise you. Whenever you refused to go along with any of her plans, she got annoyed with you. You should have known from the very beginning that this relationship was never going to work. You felt stupid for even trying.

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you at the next dinner party,” Natasha looked away from you.

“Don’t hold your breath,” you stabbed your fork into another piece of meat. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be too busy to attend the next one.”

“Didn’t you already try that excuse?” she asked.

You shoveled the piece of meat into your mouth and chewed. You didn’t bother to ask how she knew that. It was Natasha. She knew everything about you. You hated it. You hated that she was right. You hated sitting here so close to her. Every minute that passed was just more reminders of what had made you happy. It was gone, and you just wanted it all to stay dead. Why hadn’t Natasha shown up with the date? Why didn't you? You could think of a dozen ways you could have approached this whole stupid thing differently.

“Y/N,” her voice was softer now and you felt a burning behind your eyes.

“I can’t do this,” you heard the waver in your voice. You shouldn’t have come. You knew what would happen. You knew you would see her. You knew you would feel all these things. You weren’t sure if you couldn’t hear the other conversations happening around the table because people had stopped talking or because your quickening heart beat was now filling your ears. “I can’t.”

You felt her hand fall over your own, and you quickly snatched your hand back and stood up. You felt the rest of the team’s eyes on you as you quickly left. You heard their voices all rise up as one, but you didn’t look back. You just needed to leave. Get some fresh air. Go back to the Compound and forget about all of this.

Your pace quickened as you left the team behind and hurried towards the elevator. You were grateful that the doors parted immediately upon pushing the button. You stepped inside and pressed the button that would take you down to the garage. Your vision blurred and you felt a hot tear spill down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Stupid. This had been stupid. The doors started to close and just when you thought your escape was complete, Natasha slipped into the elevator.

The doors shut completely and you shook your head. “No.” Your hand reached out towards the panel of buttons. You went to push the button that would force the elevator doors back open, but Natasha grabbed your hand before you could. “Let go, Nat. I’m not going back to that stupid party.”

“That’s not why I’m here,” she said and released your hand the moment the elevator began to descend.

Your hand dropped back down to your side. “Then why are you here?” You realized that was the wrong question to ask as her red lips parted to answer. You shook your head. “No! No. I don’t want to know. Just leave me alone.”

She took a small step closer to you, and you instinctively stepped back and felt your back pressed against the cool wall of the elevator. “You’re not even going to give me a chance?”

“A chance to do what? Lure me back to your side with more fake promises of some happy life together? You can’t use that bullshit on me anymore. I was just a convenient fuck for you,” you felt another tear slip, and you used the back of your hand to wipe it away.

“You broke up with me,” she argued.

“Because you pushed me away,” your voice wavered again, and you hated it. “Every time I tried to help or understand, you kept me out. The only time you let me in was when you wanted to fuck me. The only time you wanted me around was if you wanted to have sex with me. I wasn’t your girlfriend. I was your toy.”

“I know.”

You were ready for anything. You had replayed all your arguments in your head hundreds of times. You were ready for any of her arguments. Except for that. Those two words caught you completely off guard.

“I messed up,” she said. “And I’m sorry.”

What was happening? This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. You were supposed to argue back and forth until you were both spent and upset and eager to get away from each other.

“Please let me try again.”

She had somehow managed to get even closer to you. Her voice was soft, and her olive green eyes were searching your face. She was trying to gauge your emotions. You could only wonder what she saw because you didn’t know how to feel. Tears still threatened to spill down your cheeks from all the pain you had been shoving down these past few weeks. Walking away from her had hurt so much. Because you did love her, and it had killed you to realize that she didn’t love you.

You wanted to leap at this chance. You wanted it so badly, but you were hesitant. You had barely been able to walk away from her last time. You weren’t sure you would be able to do it again if all of this happened again. But you wanted to believe it wouldn’t. You wanted to believe that there was still some life in this dying husk of a relationship.

You didn’t realize what had happened until her lips were pressed against yours. It felt like your first kiss all over again, only better. It felt familiar. The kiss was soft but needy. It reminded you of all the other ways she had kissed you before. The smell of her perfume flooded your senses, and you just wanted to collapse into her arms. You were tired of being angry. Tired of being upset. You wanted this. The kiss ended far too soon, and you started to lean forward to chase her retreating lips.

You saw her smile when the elevator reached the garage floor, and the doors opened. You didn’t make any move to leave. Instead, you waited for the elevator doors to close before you leaned forward to kiss her back.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfic #fanfic request #sapphic september #i'm tempted to write a part two but i'm not sure

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schrodinger-swriter · 3 months

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Hi! Could you write J, K, L, and Z of your Hazbin Alphabet for Lucifer?

J, K, L, and Z for Lucifer

Greetings everyone! Today may be a little odd and all over the place, at least on my end.. but I do see all of your requests and intend to try to knock some of them out today! Thank you for being understanding. C:

I hope you enjoy, Anon!

JEALOUSY:

He gets jealous easily, oftentimes leaving him feeling inferior and inadequate. He tries to draw your attention back to him. You know how when he and Alastor were butting heads he keeps trying to convince Charlie why he's better? It's similar to that, he tries everything to try to one up the other person.. He's not the type to take out his jealous onto you, though.. He becomes tense and a little bit wired..

KISSES:

He looks like the type of man who would enjoy dipping you down to kiss you, holding you in his arms while he presses his lips to yours... but also at the same time I can easily see him settling for a more casual hand kiss. Perhaps it's the royal aesthetic, or maybe it's his nature to do something within that ballpark... Perhaps, when receiving he enjoys kisses on his cheek and mouth, even more casual than how he treats you.. but sometimes small actions like that hit a little harder than ones based around grandiose.

LOVE LANGUAGE:

He loves making you gifts, putting his creative side to good use when crafting the very best trinkets for you. Often times.. they're apple or duck themed, however every now and then he shakes it up and makes something new to you. You know how some people collect those small yellow rubber ducks? That's what your room eventually looks like... As for receiving I sense that he might enjoy quality time... at least as an acquired taste. More than anything I want to see him and Charlie reconcile, perhaps you try to introduce him to some down time? Something meant to have him grow accustomed to something long since forgotten, turning into a bonding moment between the two of you. Maybe that's a dumb idea, but I think it's sweet.

ZZZ:

He sometimes struggle with sleep. Sometimes getting too much, sometimes getting too little. Most of that is because of the effect his depression has on him. Though, he's not a stranger to sharing the bed with someone. He looks like he would be a blanket hog, so it's recommended you bring a second blanket if you want to stay warm... though, his body is also.. very warm.. so perhaps you can cut your losses and snuggle into him. Occasionally sleep talks, usually nonsense. Dad snore. Not elaborating on that one...

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin imagine #hazbin hotel iamgine #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer imagine #lucifer morningstar imagine #lucifer x you

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saiidahyunie · 1 month

Text

say im ur luv

son chaeyoung x f!reader

synopsis: is it wrong to be in love with your best friend who’s a tattoo artist?

warnings: fluff ; smut ; friends to lovers ; tattoos

a/n: for @nr1chaedickrider, celebrating chae day early! so i hope you guys enjoy (idk how to feel ab the pacing in this one but lower the expectations, and then drop them again.)

let’s ask the question again: is it wrong to be in love with your tattoo artist?

well, if it is chaeyoung then you’re completely, with no reassurance, fucked.

chaeyoung has been your tattoo artist since the two of you were both eighteen fresh out of high school with no money to each other's names whatsoever. chaeyoung was actually an apprentice, shaky with her gun and worrying over whether she placed the stencil correctly.

she was the one who did your first ever tattoo, and you were chase’s first solo tattoo ever.

so there shouldn’t be any wonder if you were in love with her, something straight out of a romance novel or those corny, coming of age movies that could be easily replaced with something else.

it’s only up until now that chaeyoung is the only person that’s ever allowed to ink your skin, the only individual that’s responsible for every design etched in skin and you’re in love with every single one of them. she’s a brilliant artist and you’d honestly never go to anyone else.

but also, chaeyoung is insanely hot. like an absolute hit out of the ballpark in addition to being the sweetest person that you’ve ever met. you’d never expect it of her with a gorgeous tattoo on her lower back that you don’t even know what it is because she’s never actually made it clear herself. aside from all of the imitating and artistic ink, she has that sweet side, a calming presence while also being incredibly patient with her clients, kind nearly to a fault. to this day, chaeyoung barely changed her hourly rate, at least not for you.

at first, it started to be relatively cheap when she was working towards her license. once she got it, her rate went up a bit, but capped out to a hundred an hour. you know from the online website that she charges far more now and despite that, chaeyoung never charged you any higher. you suspected that it was because you accidentally told her how long it took you to save up for a tattoo, back when med school was sucking the life out of you, draining every cell in your body to pay back those stupid student loans.

chaeyoung asked you why you haven’t been coming in as often, and you being the idiot you were letting the reason spill out your mouth. you’d always tip her more than enough to cover the difference which resulted in her complaining about it after. she gave up, letting it be a normal thing between you and her, finding new and creative methods to force her to take the extra cash that you’re paying. last time that happened, you slipped it between one of her vinyls that she set off to the side before her session with you.

the next thing you’d see on your phone were the string of curses about an hour later and it was clearly the highlight of your day.

however, chaeyoung would also be snarky as hell and give you more than good when riled up. you know that all too well, it’s seen in the years of knowing her, all of the dollars and hours spent upon being stabbed by a needle, but you know you’ll be in good hands with chaeyoung better than any other client she’s been with.

to backtrack, you are completely in love, and you think you sold yourself short because:

1. chaeyoung is way out of your league.

2. chaeyoung doesn’t date her clients.

—

the news itself was a tough pill to swallow when you foolishly told mina that she was your favorite tattoo artist and somi doubled down saying that you were totally in love with chaeyoung. of course, mina being always so forward with what she wanted took it upon herself to get her own tattoo from the said lovely tattoo artist and hopefully beat you to getting with her, just to piss you off even more.

in all fairness, mina did it in retaliation for the new year’s kiss incident that was never really spoken about ever again, but still who in their right mind would go for something like that?

blind arrogance and anger aside, you had gone with mina as support while also fending off any advances towards chaeyoung in the form of damage control. this effort would go up in flames and once chaeyoung had slipped her gloves on, mina kept her cool like she always does hitting on chaeyoung, making you stop cold in your tracks by fear that she would accept.

a part of you was relieved to hear her flat out reject mina, by saying that she was a cool friend to have, but ultimately, “no thanks.”

then the following sentence just sent your heart down into oblivion when you heard the words, “i don’t date clients.” come out of her mouth in record time. after that incident, it was a tough pill to swallow, but safeguarding all of these feelings for chaeyoung was locked away in a little box sunk to the bottom of the ocean.

oddly enough, it hadn’t worked and yet here you were, another day with the tattoo appointment with the very focus of obsession the next day. there’s a lot of things going through your head–

regret was one of them.

second being hatred.

both of these things aren’t enough power to really cancel the appointment, but it’s fine.

working the overnight shift down at the local hospital because there was an opening in your availability, so you took it. surprisingly enough, it was quiet for once. so just chatting on the seats along the hallway of the ER while your coworkers were getting some filing and charting done to kill the hours. thing’s are going great as they are.

“y/n, weren’t you just here yesterday morning?” yuqi, one of the senior nurses asking across from the check-in desk opposite of you.

“yeah,” you respond cheerfully, spinning the iced macchiato you saved in the break room to drink. this shit is aboslute dog piss, you’re thinking to yourself downing it, but it’s times like these where you’ve got to do anything to stay awake.

yuqi frowns, disapproving and the gaze sends a shiver down your spine like she emulated your mom scolding you. “did you take a break by any chance?”

“qi, my thirty was a little over an hour ago.”

“when do you get off?”

“about an hour and a half,” you tell her with a post-it note stack between your fingers. yuqi turns around for a moment, whispering numbers from the clipboard she’s skimming through next to the walkway before turning back, expression stern but prospective.

“alright, we have more than enough people to last uss for the rest of the night, so why don’t you go ahead and get room 8 set up before heading out, i feel bad that you’re working here back to back.”

it’s an offer you couldn’t say no to, practically keeping yourself awake with the singular functioning brain cell godforbid standing on two feet - and the appointment with chaeyoung is at nine-thirty, so getting those couple hours of sleep sounds a whole lot nicer rather than showing up looking vegetable dead the moring after.

“bless your work, qi.”

she reaches over the desk to lightly tap your forehead, keeping you awake with her cold fingers, “you’re one of my best people, can’t have you crashing on the floor like the other patients, right?”

“you tell wendy that, and i’ll request another schedule change!” you chortle before swiping the chart from yuqi’s hand, stepping your way towards room 8. it was way too early for you to be this obnoxious, but hey, with three cans worth of red bull and two latte’s from nana’s coffee shop you bought before your shift this is the kind of energy you would have at 3 am.

you’ve done well for yourself being popular with most of the nurses on your floor and you like to think it’s because you’re good at your job and not for the reason of being adopted as the surrogate baby despite being the youngest of the bunch. you’re not losing sleep over it, nor picky, but it’s better being loathed for incompetence like most of the other new nurses arriving here.

looking down at the clipboard, you’re skimming through the charts while the brain is rapidly running through all of the symptoms considering the doctor’s potential diagnosis and how you should proceed.

the name on the line says: son chaeyoung, 24, sprained ankle.

quizzical, you remember the name somehow, but can’t quite place it where. not that you’d care though, almost out of here and with about two to three days off, the break from responsibilities was so close to tasting that you’re not putting any more thought into it. though, it could be because of the similar age and possibly the same university or whatever.

a move of the curtain with the back of your hand while your leg pulls the rolling chair from behind for you to sit on without even looking up.

“good morning ms. son. i’m not sure if the doctor has already told you, but i see here that you just have a small ankle sprain, so we’re just gonna wrap it up with a few bandages and you should be all set to leave.”

you still haven’t looked up to see ms. son just yet, instead of giving the usual tangent while getting yourself into the right position while getting some bandages from one of the drawers below. this was the fifth sprained ankle in this shift alone and you just wish that you can just say that there wasn’t any need to come to urgent care for all of this because, most people could just deal with wrapping this at home, but nothing wrong with going through the checks from a qualified professional, so you don’t say that.

“y/n?”

so that’s the funny part. the damn voice that makes your head snap up instantaneously to properly observe your patient becuase you know the sound of your name bouncing off the walls of her mouth and teeth.

chaeyoung.

even at three in the freaking morning, she’s still pretty as ever with hair disheveled, wearing black sweats and a grey oversized hoodie. this was one of the few times that you could see barely any of her tattoos, the only ones that are visible are the small ones that were marked across different parts of her fingers, a small hyperfix you have for noticing and dreaming that you get to kiss them, along with–

ah ah ah, we’re on the clock here, remember?

“chae.” you breathe her name without really thinking about it and a smile lights up her face. “i’m not supposed to see you until nine.”

she cracks a grin, and there’s the girl that you’re so familiar with, it never gets old. “i’m not complaining, though.”

chaeyoung’s face blushes at this and you follow from the pretty hints of pink from the peak of her cheeks down to the elegant arch of her neck. you don’t know why you said those very words, rarely ever letting a remark with that caliber out in the terms of flirting because it’s never really something that’s to be said outside of the tattoo parlor - and also because you’re deathly afraid that she’s gonna turn you down, telling you that she doesn’t want to see you again, but you need to see more of that blush that’s burning her cheeks by the second.

“i–uh, didn’t know that you were a nurse.” chaeyoung switches up the subject quickly, sounding shocked. you don’t take any offense to that however, let alone blame her. this career choice wouldn’t even be in the considerable options for the person that’s been tatted a few things on her left arm with a back tattoo also.

“yeah, i’m actually fresh out of nursing school.”

“ah.” she breathes out, lifing your gaze up to see her face.

she’s so fucking cute.

“right, now would you mind if i can take a look at that ankle, miss son?” you observe, grining while chaeyoung scrambles to swing her injured foot over the edge of the bed.

“my–well, my roommate brought me in because i tripped on one of her shoes and then my ankle started to swell up. i know this is a bit of an overreaction, and i’m sorry.” she rambles nervously while you’re trying not to internally swear that you’re falling more and more in love every time you hear the sounds of happiness coming out of her mouth.

chaeyoung, your best friend. a badass, slightly introverted tattoo artist who’s also hot, with her gun and showing off endless amounts of creamy skin on her upper body, drawn up with different designs, but chaeyoung swaddled up in loungewear and twisting over her words was also adorable.

“nothing to worry about, this was the last thing i expected to happen on my shift tonight.” you acknowledge, bring up her foot gently to your lap so that you can start bandaging. sparing a quick look up to just be sure, and fair enough, the blush is still there, now even more apparent than a few moments ago, fighting back the grin.

she’s in your place of work today, so you can do as you please.

it’s quick work really, and with the bandage wrapped with a few metal clips, it’s secured so that her foot doesn’t move too much before pulling away, satisfied with the work.

“thanks.” chaeyoung tells you shyly and you’re fighting to not get over how cute she’s being today, my goodness.

“no need, just elevate it when you get home and obviously don’t do anything to strenuous, or it could get worse.”

“does this mean i have to cancel our appointment tomorrow then, you know i wouldn’t want to do anything strenuous.” chaeyoung asks teasingly.

aside from all of the butterflies flying in your stomach, the urge to tell chaeyoung exactly what kind of strenuous activities she shouldn’t be doing like doing a stupid dance move or tripping on another shoe - because she’s the kind of person to do that again, and it will, so you’re shaking your head while the both of your laugh.

“chae!” a voice interrupts you two and you see a girl standing behind the curtain with a water cup in her hand.

“manda, what the hell did i tell you?! keep your voice down, this is a hospital.”

the girl you assume to be manda does shut up, before not giving you a very thorough look over that makes you feel a little bit uncomfortable.

“oh, y/n. this is manda, my overprotective roommate that brought me in because she’s impulsive. and manda this is y/n, she’s my best friend since wearing diapers and a regular at my shop.” chaeyoung introduces you, a cautious tone in her voice.

you were going to exchange some niceties only to be stopped by a gasp from the sound of your name.

“you’re telling me that this is the y/n? the day one that you’ve been gushing over about for god knows how—” chaeyoung’s quick to slap her hand over manda’s mouth, grinning weirdly while grabbing her socks and shoes while dragging manda away.

“well, it’s been nice seeing you lovely. actually i’ll be seeing you tomorrow anyway, so this has been fun. i’ll make sure to keep my ankle in shape.” chaeyoung calls back to you, totally ignoring her own words as clearly puts weight on the said injured foot, towing her roomate away, hand over her mouth still.

“wait!” you exclaim to her peeking out the doorway, “you have to sign the release form!” trying to tell her, but she’s already past the corner and into the main lobby of seats without even putting her shoes back on. the whole dilemma makes you laugh.

maybe the chance of getting with your best friend is a lot more apparent than it seems.

—

chaeyoung, on the other hand, wants to die. honest to god for the feeling of crawling into a cave to rot for eternity.

she’s done a really great job for as long as she could not letting you know that she loves you, while also wanting nothing more than to just have a full-fledged confession scene occur out in the rain. it’s only this possible for her feeling this way for years now.

unlike you, she’s had her fair share of slips-ups. as a matter of fact, she’s absolutely god awful at keeping things somewhat professional with you and if her brother jeonghoon found out how often she’s taken advantage of your trust as a tattoo artist, then she knew that things wouldn’t be pretty.

admittingly, chaeyoung also hides the fact of the countless times your clothes were off in the shop. it didnt’ mean to start off like this, but any chance that she got, she wanted you to show as much skin as possible - you know, for stenciling purposes and whatnot.

a simple tattoo on the arm? roll up the sleeve.

a tattoo in between your breasts and under off to the side? you’re cupping your breasts for her on the bench.

even a freaking ankle tattoo? you’d happily oblige with taking off your sweatpants when you didn’t even need to.

it didn’t matter, whatever chaeyoung wanted for her hobby, she would get.

all of that would be thrown under the bus because her roommate manda outed her which makes the whole act completely derailed, and she doesn’t know how she’s gonna face you in a few hours.

chaeyoung has known you since that one random middle school event that was probably a halloween party for the class one day where you dressed up as coraline and she was emulating the early forms of her gothic, grunge core aesthetic. you took it upon yourself to compliment her appearance and ever since that interaction, you and her have been attached to the hip.

it was some achievement that you’d be the first person chaeyoung would tattoo, but it meant a lot to her. marking you up to make her art was something that she appreciated along with being the first customer.

your body for her was her own personal canvas, no one else has had the luxury to ink your skin except for her, and the thrill that comes with it is just amazing. in the design book, your tattoos are the ones that chaeyoung always showcases, because they are the epitome of perfection, and she makes sure of it. she’s been the person to point at for every single body modification on you up until now.

it had been a little bit after the visit to the emergency room, and now she’s going to see you, cursing at the fact that her roommate manda and her big mouth. she groans once sitting up the bed, getting up with a hitch in her step because of her ankle - so much for dressing up, it’ll be a lazy outfit for today.

even though it hadn’t been that long–considerably a while–-since chaeyoung had last seen you, completely forgetting the fact that you were a nurse, but that just made you hotter in chaeyoung’s eyes. it’s insane to even think about for your own good, a healthcare professional that saves lives on the regular, yeah you’re instantaneously hotter.

a quick shower and dress up is how chaeyoung does on a typical workday to see her favorite client: a simple shirt that shows all of the tattoos she has on her arms. on the agenda for you was some backwork and knowing that you love to have your head laid onto the side, she hopes that it’ll be a good view to see all of the designs that are on chaeyoung’s arms.

making her way to the kitchen, chaeyoung’s eyes were set on manda who looks to be making an apology breakfast for her.

“chae, you’re up! how’s your ankle?” she asks. chaeyoung doesn’t respond, just sitting down and glaring at the back of her roommate's head. manda turns around, a frown marring her normal happy face and lets out a sigh of irritation. “i’m sorry! i don’t know why i said that but i’m sure that it’ll be okay! maybe y/n loves you back and this is just something you needed, consider this a favor!”

chaeyoung swipes the jug of juice, pouring herself a glass before tossing the cap, clearly unhappy with this development of everything so far.

“hey! what the hell! i said i was sorry!

chaeyoung sighs, hanging her head while manda sets down a plate of waffles down, mumbling a sound of acceptance. “it’s fine, just please keep your big mouth shut about it, okay? don’t even think about coming by the shop, i’ll be tattooing her in a bit.’

“you got it.” manda says, nodding her head resolutely.

as chaeyoung prepares to dig into her breakfast, manda sits across from her, looking like she wants to say a few more things and she figures that it’s better to get it all out on the table now rather than later. “just say it.”

“you’ve known your best friend for so many years now. why are you staying quiet about it? you’ve been her tattoo artist and you haven’t done a single move on her!”

“god, can you just–”

“you’re not taking advantage of it! for all i know maybe y/n feels the same way!” manda finally says before pondering to add anything else. instead, “okay, i’m done with my rant now.”

chaeyoung considers her words, and she’s not wrong. the chemistry between you and her has always been crazy, just by being in the same room as you, it drives her up the wall in some cases. while manda might be saying is true, it also solidifies the fact that every tattoo that she put on you was an extension of her no matter how long it took or how it looked.

she remembers you laughing at all the times of her taking forever, messing around with the size and placement of the stencil. you’d tell her every single time that it was fine, it was those kinds of appointments which turned into hangouts despite the difference in schedules between you two.

“you’re right.” chaeyoung says, “because you told her that i like her, and now well something has to happen. i can’t ignore this anymore.

manda simply giggles and chaeyoung puts on her glasses before getting ready to head out the door. she has a client to see soon after all.

—

now in her own workspace, chaeyoung fiddles around with the different trinkets and equipment about several times because of her sheer nerves because what was she going to do? you know about her massive crush now and there’s nothing but nerves ever since. were you going to say anything about it? what would she do? how should she react to it?

she hates it here, it’s because she’s never been this nervous with you before.

all of her thoughts would have to wait when they’re interrupted by you entering the room, wearing black baggy jeans and a simple black sweater that might be a little bit cropped that exposes your lower abs. in scrubs or in normal clothes, you looked way to good.

“hey,” you snap her attention towards you with a bright smile. “your brother at the front just told me to come in, i figured that you were busy getting ready so–”

“that’s okay! i-i was just cleaning a bit, go ahead and sit down while i get the stencil ready.”

chaeyoung can’t believe what she sounds like right now, she needs to get it together.

“everything good with you chae?” you ask her while setting yourself on the bench.

chaeyoung is definitely not okay, at this point she wants to melt into slime on the floor, but you haven’t brought up manda’s big fumble so things might be fine. she hates how you say her nickname, it’s so natural, but why does it feel so different now?

“i’m good, even better now that you’re sitting down i’ll show you the sketch.”

you comply, eyes parting like saucers when chaeyoung shows you the sketch of the symbols that you were going to have on the right side of your back. chaeyoung herself hand picked the words and the meaning behind them so needless to say, “my god!? i love it!”

“it’ll be somewhat similar to what i have on my back already, so i took a bit of inspiration to be honest.”

“so, matching tattoos basically?”

“yep.”

“best friends for so many years and we’ll finally have matching tattoos.”

the hum of the tattoo gun starts to buzz in the room and chaeyoung is blasting some music to help mask it, helps her get in the zone.

your session was a little over two hours, the outlining was probably the most challenging part since chaeyoung wouldn’t stop drooling at your toned back at times for you to say her name in order to snap out of it. other than that, most of the work had been finished and the last thing was to get the shading in between the open spaces of the symbols.

“i think we can have this finished by tomorrow.” she says to you, looking up when she has the mirror reflecting the almost completed project. “what do you think?”

“you sure? i felt like we can have this done by today.”

chaeyoung leans over to you sitting upright, wrapping your new ink on your shoulder while her face was extremely close to yours, face burning up when she feels your breath hot on her neck. “i’d love to keep you here so that we can catch up, but i do have another client in about thirty minutes.”

“how does tomorrow sound?”

“you might be in pain from today as it is.”

“so? this is nothing new for the both of us.” you tell her, fingers waving forward and backward in the space below while maintaining eye contact.

“you’re an idiot.”

“but you love that don’t you?”

chaeyoung giggles, and you’re putting back on your sweater before standing up on the way out of the door. “so i’ll see you soon then?” you ask, and chaeyoung just nods with a dimple peaking out while your back is turned to her, door closing behind leaving her alone.

she’s definitely fucked, and it’s even worse when she can’t even speak to you properly anymore.

—

“y/n.”

“hmm?”

“stop moving.”

you don’t move again in the next session the following day. chaeyoung props her elbow on the line of your lower back, catching on the corner of her eye when your upper back muscles tense up from the sudden pressure. she could get lost on how your body looks from the back and the front, but she loses the willpower to (god help her delusional mind when she finally sits back down on the chair)

eventually, she finally finishes the symbol design in a matter of an hour and to her honesty, it’s one of the best works that chaeyoung had on you for a while now.

you look at it from the full body mirror on the door, but you’re not even paying single attention to the new design when chaeyoung sees your eyes not even looking at the tattoo, but at her. “you idiot! you’re not even looking!”

“so, i already did.” you retort, and chaeyoung wants to smack you.

“do you not like it?”

“i do, it’s amazing, but this is not what i’m thinking about right now.”

chaeyoung and her two functioning boba brain cells managed to connect the dots: you were talking about her. as cheesy as it sounds but she falls for it, and had already fallen for you.

“so, are we gonna keep ignoring what’s happening between us, or do i have the chance to ask you out on a date?”

“y/n, i know you’re one of my best friends for all time now, but you forget that i don’t date clients.”

you laugh, stepping closer to her where the space suddenly gets small in the room. physical touches between friends had always been natural with chaeyoung. for some reason, chaeyoung can’t function properly when you’re grabbing her cheek with your slender fingers, imposing your eyes into her’s, staring into her soul.

“i think you can make an exception for me then.”

chaeyoung slaps your hand lightly away from her face, hiding her blush terribly with that same dimple under her cheek breaking through. you’ve already won. “i’ll come get you at 7:30, so be ready by then.”

chaeyoung too, has also won, without having any role in this development at all.

—

despite being excited for the first date, that gets swept under the bus because once you were at the doorstep at her apartment, chaeyoung decides that it doesn’t matter if she eats or not (she’s gonna eat regardless). she wanted you and needed you now.

outside of the hospital and tattoo parlor, chaeyoung has danced around the idea of hooking up with her best friend, and luckily the stars aligned when you felt the same way. the dinner was completely unnecessary for her to get you.

and, she motions you inside, following dutifully, taking off your shoes and sliding them into the rack nearby. “i made a reservation at that one place you always liked and after i thought we could just hit the roller rink after.”

chaeyoung ignores you, instead she grabs your arm to drag you to her room. “chae? what’s happening–”

she shuts you up by kissing you, pressing you against the door. swiping her tongue across the opening of your mouth, letting out a moan once she finally achieves what she’s been building up to for so long. you’re quick to pick up on the message, i mean shit–you could let her do all the work for all you care, but that would take out some of the fun anyway.

your tongue continues to fight for dominance against hers, hands sliding across her body, reaching down for her ass, grasping it that makes her let out a whine, grinding your knee into the space between her legs. chaeyoung is the first to pull away, resting her head on the front of your shoulder, “fuck–do you know how long i’ve–”

“we really doing this or what?”

“i’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t get your fingers inside of me right now, so shut the fuck up.”

her lips are quick to get on yours again, hands sliding underneath her dress and onto her ass, clutching it with everything in your grip enough to get bruises on them, and you will. chaeyoung slips off your aviator jacket, leaving you just in your shirt while it showcases the tattoos that she put on you across your arms.

managing to reach the bed rather than just getting it down right on the floor, you sit while chaeyoung strips her white oversized sweater, revealing a lacy black bra underneath and all of the tattoos that were on her arms: the line of carrots, her birdcage, the heart and arrow on the side of her neck. everything about her was so alluring, and it’s making you crave for her more.

she’s quick to straddle you, breathless, like she too is nervous for what’s about to happen. you laugh, “what?” she asks, letting herself nestle into the cushiony seat of your thighs, hands on her bra before it’s up in the air and out of the picture.

“nothing,” you say, landing a feathery kiss onto her small, perky breast. “you’re so quick to jump on this like you’ve been wanting this to happen.”

chaeyoung tries to respond, only to let out a moan when your mouth lands on her nipple, slicking it up with saliva while you massage the other one. she shivers at the lovingly touches you’re giving her, lightly playing with the back of your hair on your neck as you indulged in her tits.

“god, you’re—so fucking–” she grips your head deeper into her chest. “please–y/n–i can’t–”

your eyes look up to hers, mouth still on her nipple, pulling away for a second to catch your breath. “you look so good for me, pretty–god–” chaeyoung pulls you up to her face for another kiss, groaning again for more need, and drowning in pure bliss.

quick to elevate the next move, you flip her over, bedding being ruffled when her back hits the sheets, a laugh leaves her lips and your mouth is all over her neck. chaeyoung loves this, she’s been waiting for this fantasy to be fulfilled for the longest time now and it’s finally happening all at once.

“i’m gonna make you feel good now. does that sound good?”

“please.” chaeyoung stutters out.

“anything for you, pretty.”

you then start to trail down to her sweatpants, tugging them away, smiling in satisfaction when it’s a lacy red g string with a visible wet spot in the middle, her hips twitch when you press a finger lightly across the fabric. they’re the next article of clothing to go, kissing up her inner thighs and chaeyoung can’t bear to look at the action of the top of your head happening down to her core.

“baby, you’re dripping for me.”

“f-fuck–”

“that’s fine, i like it when you’re excited for me. it’s cute.”

not even giving her the luxury to speak after that, you latch your mouth onto her cunt and the sudden surge of pleasure makes her groan out loud that even catches you off guard. the surprise is also apparent when she places her feet on the small dips on your collar bones, giving you more area to work with as you’re lapping her pussy up.

chaeyoung reaches for your hair the more you let your tongue dampen from the wetness of her slit, trying different ways to get new tones of moans out from her, this method works when you slip two fingers inside her and my god she’s soaked.

“ngh–fuck y-y/n–baby, i—yes–yes, right there.”

she’s jerking and grasping for anything within arms reach, to keep her mind off from the spot inside her that’s being sucked away by you. it’s fucking her head when your tongue reaches deep, ass off the mattress before you restrain her down.

“don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop–”

you hum into her core again, pulling away slightly over her swollen cunt, “you’re close are you?”

“shit–why did you—”

“i have an idea.”

chaeyoung then sees you rise up from the edge of the bed, shifting her back more onto the mattress before slipping out of your pants and underwear, waddling through to chaeyoung’s head before turning around with your pussy hovering over. you then see chaeyoung lick her lips in anticipation of what you were doing, the eyes telling you how much she wanted you and you couldn’t complain about it.

“don’t be shy, y/n. sit on me.”

oh.

smiling at her command, you press your pussy onto her mouth, stifling a moan before you lean over to resume eating chaeyoung out. the sounds that fill up the room are sinful, reactions of approval with hands grabbing at skin, humming inside each other's core to edge out one over the next. chaeyoung is a quick learner when she returns the same treatment you gave her by slipping a finger against your folds, clutching the blanket next to you two while you feverishly grind your cunt over her tongue.

two could play at that game, and you up the ante with licking up her folds, thumb tapping her clit once, then twice, then a third. she’s shaking into the bed, you’re trying to catch your breath - everything about this first time is euphoric - it’s amazing to relish in when you hook your hands underneath her thighs, finishing up the course that you’ve been craving over the planned dinner. then–

“fuck, baby. i’m so–so close.”

chaeyoung is begging to cum, and you’re fighting the tightrope in your stomach to not cum before her, but you’re picking it up and she is preactially yelping at this point. eventually, she lets go, trembling when you clean up the arousal, that savory juice that is soaking your fingers and leaking out of her well-worked cunt.

you’re quick to follow too, gripping her waist and forcing your hips down on her, nearly suffocating to the point before you also let loose from the swirling mouth and tongue eating you up from the inside. shaking once you lift your hips off of chaeyoung’s face, plopping down beside her and leaving sloppy kisses all over her face and neck, drunk on the scent from you and her.

—

it might’ve been a few hours or the next morning, and the dinner reservation is out of speculation.

chaeyoung is the first to wake up and takes the time to observe her new piece of art in a more closer detail. it’s been a while since she had a chance to look at you like this, tracing along the slopes of your cheeks, the dunes across your chest and waist, down to your hips. she sees the ink all over your arm, especially the one in between your breasts - the inscribed saying under your right boob. everything about you was impressive, and the shading was spot on.

“admiring the curation?” you ask her, voice labored while you peek down through your pretty lashes.

“yeah, i’m good at what i do, i can see why you always came back to see me.”

“oh, trust me. you are, but that’s not why i come back to you.” you break a grin and chaeyoung blushes through the compliment,

“shut up.” she says, slapping your arm in retaliation.

“i do like the one you just did on me recently, the symbol and everything. now cool that we match.” you say, showing the underside of your wrist, “i want this one to be filled in. something meaningful too by the way.”

chaeyoung scowls. “it’ll be small, but what do you want?”

“hmm,” you’re being pensive, staring up at the ceiling. “i dunno, something that’s already on you that can be put on me.”

chaeyoung then shakes her head. “no.”

you laugh, “would chae be sufficient for you instead of the tattoos you have already?”

“deal.”

“okay, i’ll come by next week to get that taken care of.”

“i’ll get one on me also.”

you comb her hair, looking at her confused, “what do you mean?” raising a brow after.

“you’ll see later.” she tells you.

you find out later indeed, when you’re going down on her on the kitchen counter top, noticing the bandage that finds your name inked just over the small divot of her hip.

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #hyunie #kpop imagines #twice imagines #son chaeyoung #son chaeyoung x reader #chaeyoung x reader #twice smut #kpop smut #twice chaeyoung

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fbfh · 11 months

Text

Jacob Black x mate/imprint!reader first rut hcs

wc: 1.9k

genre: smut, tooth rotting fluff, werewolf heat/monsterfucking ig

pairing: Jacob x imprint!reader (afab, no pronouns)

warnings: general werewolfy stuff, awkward heat/rut talks, BIGASS breeding king, Jake can smell when you're ovulating, Jake is posessive and clingy and adorable and hot, knots, oral (reader recieving), face down ass up position, biting and hickeys, scenting, a ton of creampies, cum plugging, growling/primal kink??, aftercare

summary: Jacob is the best boyfriend you've ever had, so when he tells you there's a little problem he's going to need help with soon, you're more than happy to help him out with it

a/n: starting to write my first actual original book today and I am so stoaked!!!!!! wish me luck uwu I think yall are really really gonna like it and I'm super excited ksflkjslkjs

also I'm adding people who asked to be tagged for a/b/o and omegaverse content bc it's in the same ballpark imo

tags @yesv01 @magcon7280 @yelenabel0vaswife @lizziebitch33 @sunshineangel-reads @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @demirunner @almostjollypizza @fictionalcomfortss @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @urmum-xoxo @raajali3 @Ronnasey @lubsana @demirunner @legramilis @girlfriendwhoseawitch

As with all nsfw works all characters are aged up to 18+

That being said, let’s get into it

Bc oh BOY is this one a doozy

You and Jake fell in love at first sight

You met by chance

He helped you when you had car trouble and the chemistry was instant and the rest was history

What actually happened is that Jake could smell you from like a full mile away

He was so drawn to you

Then he could smell you starting to panic, and he knew he had to make sure you were okay

So he appeared out of nowhere in his human form right when you needed him most

You were so relieved that someone was there to help you, especially someone so good with cars

And especially especially someone so hot and friendly and charismatic and attentive

From jump street, Jake obviously liked you a lot

So you couldn’t turn down his offers to get coffee and lunch and show you around town

He was relieved you didn’t turn him down either, because what you saw as Jake flirting with you was actually him imprinting on you

You’re not a wolf

You’re not aware of the supernatural world at all, as far as he knows

So he’s basically just been spending as much time as he possibly can with you

Imprint bonds are strong as fuck

So for both physiological and psychological AND emotional reasons

He needs to spend as much time with you as possible

And you want to spend time with him too

Not to the wolf extent

But still

There’s only one problem

You’ve been together for three amazing whirlwind weeks

And you already feel like you’ve known each other for your whole lives

He can tell that even though you’re not a wolf, you can feel the bond between you too

You might not know what it is, but you know that it’s there

Everything is happening so fast, but it doesn’t give you a bad gut feeling

Or any red flags

Like anywhere

You’re starting to wonder if maybe this is the true love fairytale romance you had always hoped for

That maybe soulmates are real

And you found yours

And Jacob feels the exact same way

He’s given it a lot of thought, and he really believes that even if he hadn’t imprinted he would still like you more than he’s liked anyone before

He could go on for days about how amazing you are, and he’s determined not to let anything come between you

Not to let anything sabotage this beautiful love, this bond between you

But the only problem is that the full moon is getting closer and closer

And it’s the first full moon since he imprinted on you

Not all imprints are romantic in nature, but this one definitely is

Which means now since he has a mate, he’s going to start getting his rut

And he has to spend it with you, which means he has to explain it to you

Which means it’s finally time for the most awkward conversation of his life

He’s not scared to tell you he’s a werewolf

But he is scared to tell you that you’re starting to smell so good he gets hard when you’re not even in the room

That his feral wolf brain is taking over, and all he’s been able to think about for the last 48 hours is filling you up

Stuffing you full of his seed and knotting you nice and tight to keep it all in place while he gets you irrefutably pregnant, all nice and full and round with a big litter of pups

And it’s getting worse

His thoughts are straying more and he knows he’s running out of time to explain that he’s either going to need to be chained to a tree or inside of you for anywhere from 24 to 96 hours

And since it’s his first rut since finding you, it’s almost definitely going to be longer, closer to four days than not

He’s over at your place like he has been for the last week or so, and he decides to talk to you about it when

He thinks he can handle this

He totally thinks he can handle this

Then you step out of the shower, and you smell all sweet and fresh and extra you

He sighs wistfully, realizing how much harder this is going to be

“C’mere for a sec, I want to talk to you…”

He trails off, pulling you onto his lap

He can sense that you’re worried, that you want to make sure he’s okay

And it makes him blush

He giggles, burying his face in your neck for a moment

You’re worried about him

Eventually he bites the bullet and confesses everything

You actually take it surprisingly well

He can tell you don’t fully believe him yet, but you don’t seem freaked out

“There is… one other thing…”

He manages to get through the mates and heats and ruts talk without dying of embarrassment

But he does start to get distracted part of the way through

Like really distracted

He snaps out of it for a few moments when he trails off after part of an explanation, and you chuckle, resting your hand on his cheek

“Even if you weren’t a werewolf, I would still be down to spend all weekend together.”

His stomach flips as he realizes what you’re saying

“So-”

“I’d be happy to help you through your heat or rut or whatever it’s called.”

His stomach flips when you say that

He genuinely didn't think he could get more attracted to you, then you say that

And then, something else happens

“I’m so glad!” he smiles, beginning to ramble again, “and if you want to stop, or if I’m too rough, or if it’s too much, just tell me to, uh…”

You’re already agreeing, and promise you will as he tries to regain his train of thought

His eyes get kind of distracted, and he leans closer to you, sniffing

He buries his face in your neck and takes a few big, deep breaths

It makes you giggle until he pulls away and looks at you more intensely than he ever has

His pupils are dilated and he’s laser focused on you

“Are you ovulating?”

You check your cycle tracking app and yeah

Yeah you’re supposed to be ovulating today

He sniffs you again, shoving his face into your neck

His grip on your waist gets tighter and you can feel him getting hard below you

Your eyes widen when it just keeps growing and growing

He pants against your neck, breathing in your scent and starting to grind against you, moving your hips against his

You lose yourself for a moment before remembering what he asked you a moment ago

“Wait- how did you know that?”

“Could smell it,” he mutters into your skin, rocking your hips harder against his and growling into your ear

“I… I think it’s starting, I need- I need to… I need to get you out of these clothes.”

He picks you up and tears your pajamas off in a blur

He carries you into your bedroom, laying you face down on your soft duvet

His breath is heavy he manhandles you into a more comfortable position, and you can hear him tearing his clothes off behind you just as quick

His big hands grab your hips, finally pulling down your panties

They stick to your soaked cunt, and send a fresh wave of your pheromones swirling intoxicatingly through the air around him

You hear him let out a shuddering sigh, then suddenly feel warm breath against your soft folds

You let out a noise as he licks you, nuzzling into your cunt, before pulling back and spitting on it

He pokes and prods you with his tongue, working it further inside you as his fingers come up to play with your clit

Werewolf saliva has healing properties and can increase elasticity during heats and ruts, so it’s a pretty common practice

His hands and mouth feel so good, you’re not complaining

He makes you cum twice on his tongue before deciding you’re stretched out enough to take him

You feel him move behind you and grab your hips, pulling them back to meet his

This energy (it’s the horny wojak thinking about getting railed meme)

His breathing is heavy as he pushes in slowly

“Tell me if it’s too much. Promise you’ll tell me angel, okay?”

You nod and manage to choke out that you will

Once you do that, it’s game over

The last amounts of self restraint Jacob possessed fade away as he completely loses himself in you

He starts thrusting into you at a brutal pace

He manhandles you, moving your body and positioning you closer to him

The next two or three days are going to be a hazy blur of cum and love bites and feeling the bulge of his knot and cock in your stomach

That’s all you’ll really be able to remember in your fucked out state

When he goes into heat, he’s already gonna be really fucking feral and primal

But when he goes into heat with you for the first time????

Oh my fucking god

It really is a good think werewolf spit can stretch you out, bc there’s no way you’d be able to take his cock, much less his knot otherwise

He grabs onto you so tight and possessive, completely pinning you down with his body weight

You could not wiggle out of his grip if you tried

He makes you cum two or three times in the first few minutes, so you know this is going to be a long, overstimulating night

But GOD everything he does feels so overwhelmingly good

He bites your neck, licking and rubbing against you to scent you even more aggressively

So expect to be covered in hickeys and love bites too

Oh my god the noises this man makes??????

Jesus fucking christ

Moaning, panting, growling right in your ear

You can’t get enough

Because you’re extra stretchy from his prep, the stretch of his knot filling you up more than you could imagine feels so incredible

He’s probably going to knot you at least twice before you’re both ready to pass out

Once you’re a quivering fucked out mess that’s literally dripping cum out of you, he’ll pull out very reluctantly

Then you hear a drawer open, and he grabs something

He pushes a toy inside you to keep as much of his cum in there as possible while he goes to get you guys water and snacks

Once he’s back he’ll absolutely feed you

He’s overwhelmed with instincts to take care of you, so of course he’s going to feed you

One thing about Jacob is he will keep you fed and bred

And you really can’t complain

He’s so loving and attentive and speaks to you so sweetly, peppering kisses across your face and telling you how good you’re doing

After that he’ll take the toy out and slide himself back in

Then pull you into his warm chest for the coziest heaviest most sticky restful nap you’ve ever taken in your entire life

Once you’re both up later, expect to do the whole thing over again

And again, and again

Cause that’s pretty much all you’ll be doing for the next three days

And you can promise this is not the last rut you’ll help him out with

#jacob black #jacob black x reader #jacob black smut #jacob black headcanons #twilight #twilight x reader #twilight smut #twilight headcanons

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raraeavesmoriendi · 1 month

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Okay but watcher originally wasn’t going to leave the old videos up. Like that is something that they backtracked on and are trying to gaslight people about. They did an interview with Variety where they told them that they were going to slowly remove their content from YouTube.

I’m trying to figure out if you’re footstamping at me or what, but babe it’s not worth it.

they’re going to do with their videos what they deem they need to bc they’re not actually our weird friends and we don’t know them like that, they’re guys who make video series who are trying to figure out how to keep a studio afloat in a landscape currently dominated by media conglomerates owned by people like jeff bezos. that is the cut and dry of it. yeah, they probably changed their minds and reversed their earlier decision, but if anything the way people are frothing at the mouth about losing their ~comfort content~ (which. yikes don’t get me started), one would think that would be a relief.

look, I had a whole essay here but I have shit to do so, short version: watcher could have strategized and rolled this whole thing out differently, and who knows, maybe more things will change. maybe they’ll change their content output schedule for their own channel. maybe they’ll add shows or cut , or re-scale for international viewer accommodation. I’d hate to be their PR person right now. but it is what it is. if you can’t pay them, don’t. do not subscribe. literally no one is forcing you. if you wanna see their stuff that badly, find someone who can and password share. they literally said it was fine.

cards on the table, I don’t even know if I’ll be getting a sub until October, or at all, bc I’m a grad student and I have bills. but I’m not about to sit here and act betrayed and hope they fail a. because I’m an adult who understands that no matter the size of the staff, providing employee benefits and insurance costs money, as does making any kind of for-fun content in our current hellscape, and b. it’s kind of shitty to watch people turn around and act like a media company is their friends personally stabbing them in the back and betraying some grand marxist ethos when it’s literally just people who don’t have things like mousecorp and netflix behind them trying to make their shit on their own terms. I’m not going to sit here and pretend they’re some rich greedy corpos trying to wring money out of us poor broke smol beans out of malice when they’re not even in the same ballpark. they’re allowed to ask to be paid for their time and their labor. if people can’t pay them, then they can’t pay them, end of. some things we just have to go without and that’s just how it shakes out; there are worse and more critical things I could be missing out on that I will be paying that money for instead.

but I’m not about to insist their stuff be free forever because ~I want it~. because that’s not what it comes down to, in the system that we currently operate and exist under. I’m not entitled to their shit like that and frankly no one is.

watching people openly hope they crash and burn bc it won’t be free anymore just makes me chalk it up to one more shitty example of how consumer culture has just made people not think about how stuff is made as long as they can get that instant gratification, but like. water is wet, news at 11.

#rae grumbles #look I’m sorry if I’m terse here #but as someone with family who’s trying really hard to make it in the industry: this shit is way more expensive than people think it is #if this is what it takes to break even then I’m going to be like ‘okay that’s cool I can go without’#not like. curse their bloodline and act like they ran over my cat #you know what #watcher #to that one weirdo who’s keeping track of the ratio on the announcement video: babe go outside. please. take a walk. get some air.

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the-s1lly-corner · 2 months

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Slenderman, EJ, Ben Drowned, and Ticci Toby x Dragon!Reader

Prize 1/5 for @kosmicdragon ! I hope you enjoy this!

Notes, ben and toby are platonic but jack and slenderman can be read as romantic!! Woohoo!! Reader can shapeshift between forms

SLENDERMAN

With how ancient the creature is he might not be all that surprised that you're something.. not human. If anything he might have been able to sense it. Unfortunately, he may not be as amazed at your transformation as others would be given that hes seen so much and is aware of things you could never hope to wrap your head around. As long as you dont knock over trees or set them ablaze he is still warm towards you. He sets his foot down if you insist on helping him keeping his woods clear, he does not want you meddling in his business.. similar to ben he keeps a fallen scale, tucked in the pocket of his coat... he pauses when you whip your wings out and hover them around him.. does he seem flustered? Vaguely, and that's the most you'll get out of him but that's because he didnt expect him of all people to get shielded and embraced

EYELESS JACK

He thinks you're trying to make him feel dumb.. to be fair you make him feel dumb when you show off to him. If you happen to be warm or can in some way generate heat he finds himself snuggling close to you during the colder seasons... at least more than he normally would with normal weather.. hes like a grumpy cat, don't bring it up or tease him otherwise hes going to stop the affection and walk off. If you're small enough to fit inside his cabin or can manipulate your size, you curl up around him while he reads. Its.. cozy..

He does have many questions though, a lot having to do with your anatomy.. not in a malicious way of course, hes just genuinely curious about how your internal organs work and how the shapeshifting functions. It's the medical student in him bubbling up

TICCI TOBY

"Yeah and I'm a unicorn" well you make him eat his words. He... drops the hardest "what the hell" you've ever heard uttered from a human being. Oddly enough I can see him taking the longest to actually accept and come to terms about the fact you can shapeshift into a dragon. He does warm up to it and think it's cool, though! Starts asking questions, similar to Ben. Can you destroy stuff? Do you have cool powers? Ect ect. Probably jokes about you having a stash of jewels somewhere. Bonus if you actually have a horde of something lying somewhere. Oh he WOULD ask for you to fly him somewhere. And he probably has nearly fallen off at some point.. has probably asked you to go after someone being a douche to him, but in a joking way.. usually.. "that guy owes me five dollars can you go like.. smash his house? Pretty please??" Kind of 'requests'.. loves messing with your wings when you're just chilling in your dragon form. Texture feels nice

BEN DROWNED

He tries to call bullshit but you insist that you're telling the truth. To be honest, he kind of thinks you're one of those people who LARP or something in that ballpark. However his shock is.. monumental when you prove him wrong by shifting into your dragon body. True to his love of fantasy though, the shock wears off after a moment and he immediately dives into a ton of questions demanding to know what all you can do. Can you breathe fire? Can you fly? Hes probably going to ask you for some odd favors that usually involve destroying something... keeps one of your scales as a souvenir should one ever fall off

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #slenderman x reader #ben Drowned x reader #slenderman x you #eyeless jack x reader #ticci toby x reader #eyeless jack x you #ticci toby x you #ben drowned x you #slenderman imagine #eyeless jack imagine #ticci toby imagine #ben drowned imagine

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hotheadedhero · 5 days

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Like 'em Big

AN: I have so many stories to write but I had to do this. Blaming being sick, m'kay? Fever has got me bad and these meds got me loopy. Thinking we need some good, silly fun in our lives, right? Plus, now that I've watched Rise, I'm hungry for some big Raph appreciation. I know I ain't the only one

All characters are aged up

Raphael x Reader

Warnings: near peril, easily smitten, possible errors due to fever (what kind of fever is up for deliberation🥴)

Cutting right to the chase. You like big dudes. That doesn't necessarily mean muscles, either. You just love you a big man - someone with a bit of something-something to them. More to love, you know? Given your track record with the greater world, it shouldn't be all that much of a mystery. Cats? Get yourself a tiger that you can cuddle into. Jumpers? Comfort central, baby. Beds? If you can't spread eagle then you see no point. The old-age saying does declare that the bigger the better, so who are you to disagree? How true that is may be up for debate but it’s merely as simple as understanding what your preferences are.

However, this makes dating a difficult ballpark to play in. No matter how tall, jacked, or voluptuous someone is, it never feels like enough. Human biology and genetics can only go so far in the conceivably possible sense. You just want to be absolutely engulfed when you get a hug. Is that such a crime? Apparently, it is. Unfortunately, you also seem to come across the worst jerks when you attempt to date within this set of criteria. One might argue it's your karmic justice for being so superficial and picky but a woman has needs. Not those kinds of needs, either. Get your head out of the gutter.

All hope seems lost and after yet again, another failed date, you decide to call it in for the evening and make your way home. A fresh failure and another wonderful outfit gone to waste. By no means is it anything flashy but you put a lot of work into it: pencil skirt, turtle neck sweater, and a nice pair of boots to compliment the look. The whole shebang! All of that effort for nothing. This is the last time you spend three hours doing your hair and makeup. Block after block, your feet grow heavier with every step. What you would give to come across a mountain-like man you can climb who is also a kindred spirit. Perhaps this dream guy will forever be that - a dream. Men like that don't just fall out of the sky.

"Look out!!"

The sudden shout almost scares you into tripping over and you look behind yourself, wishing you hadn’t. Two very large, very dangerous-looking figures entangled in battle, those of which are approaching your helpless little self. You quickly duck as the giants hurdle over you. One falls on its side whilst the other claws and skids against the ground, regaining its balance. It shakes its head and locks onto you, a guttural snarl rumbling past its jowls. Such a creature is surely from the stuff of nightmares. An indescribable nightmare whose sights are set on you. The smart option would be running away but it's as though your shoes have melted into the pavement. Pawing into the tarmac, the beastly thing growls and lunges for you. Great. This is how you die: torn limb from limb by a demon dog. Well, assuming your clothes join you, at least you’ll look like a total babe in the afterlife.

"Oh no ya’ don't," the other one yells from behind the predator, grabbing it by its tail. “Pretty ladies are not food!”

With a mighty tug, he pulls it back and swings it as far away from you as possible. You release a shaky breath, legs trembling beneath you. That was far too close for comfort. The fight isn’t quite over, however. Just as it approaches him, the green goliath swivels on his feet, full 180, and whacks the creature's jaw with a closed fist. His speed alone has you in awe but the force is astounding, practically earth-shattering. It completely knocks the air around you and pushes you onto your backside.

When the dust clears, the first thing you see is your saviour panting, his spiky shell(?) pointed towards you. Just past him in the distance, you notice three more figures in blue, purple, and orange taking a closer look at the unconscious tyrant. You swear one of them pokes at it with a stick. Witnessing strange beings such as this isn't entirely new. Anyone who's watched Chateau Pretenche knows about the celebrity chef turning into a grotesque pigman. To describe it in one word? Horrifying. It's just whether people choose to believe it genuinely happened or if these bizarre entities exist. Being up close and personally observing it now puts your scepticism in check.

As the humanoid turtle calms, he turns to face you, recapturing your attention. A red mask sits over his eyes and there’s a noticeable snaggle tooth poking past his upper lip. Typically, the prerogative is keeping out of sight but it’s much too late for that. He gradually advances towards you. You watch him warily and he keeps his movements slow for that very reason. It wouldn’t be a shock if you were to try and make an escape. He wouldn’t blame you. Currently, all he wants to do is make sure you weren’t hurt during that fiasco provided you don’t suddenly come out of your bewilderment and run off. You have good reason to but he just saved you. Either that or he’s as ravenous as that beast and wants you all to himself. The irrational conclusion remains as such - irrational - when he descends to one knee and outstretches a hand. There’s an irrefutable kindness in his eyes; a caring nature that can’t be replicated in the face of savage brutes.

"You okay?" he asks.

You continue to gawk without a word but, bit by bit, you reach out for his offer. Your fingers lightly trace the centre of his palm before comfortably trusting the proposal. His hand engulfs yours completely and Raph hopes to mercy that you don’t realise how sweaty he’s getting. He can feel his heart beating like crazy. He wonders how much of that is the adrenaline from the fight and how much of it is being in the presence of such a beautiful gal. As he helps you to your feet, he rises to his own. Someone of his stature shouldn’t be capable of being this delicate but he is. It has you running through a loop and you unintentionally stare at the remarkable behemoth.

Quite pathetically, you nod, unable to verbally respond to his question. How can you? You are effectively starstruck. Once you gloss over the turtle-y features, all you see is the sheer size of him as he towers over you. Height, width, the magnitude of those arms! All of it is glorious. You can hear the universe asking, “You want a big man, huh? How about one who isn’t human?” to which you answer, “Who gives a damn?”. If the only way a man can be this big is not to be human, so be it.

Amidst a whisper, your mouth moves on its own, "You're beautiful."

"What?"

"Huh?" Blinking out of your trance, you realise what you’ve said and giggle sheepishly, "I mean, you're be... ba... booming! Totally awesome with the whole- uh... saving thing." Nailed it.

He blinks right back down at you. This is certainly a first. He can feel his face heating up and he withdraws his hand lest you endure the wrath of his bashfulness, opting to hold the back of his head. At this moment, he seems to look anywhere but you.

"Heh. Gee, thanks." His humility is adorable and you’re glad he doesn’t question your initial statement. He turns to you once more, regaining some composure. "You sure you're okay, though? That thing was pretty scary looking."

It’s clear that you haven’t sustained any physical injuries but even bearing witness to something so unsightly can have lasting effects on one's mind. His brows furrow gently in concern down at you and it occurs to you that there’s a soft heart under all of that shell and muscle. Bonus points. This makes you smile for the first time in front of him and Raphael is sure that the streetlights got brighter.

You laugh fondly, “Yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” Twiddling your fingers, your lips purse up in his direction. “Is there any way I can repay you?”

He places his hands on his hips and chuckles cutely, “Just doing my duty, ma’am.”

He may be indulging in his alter ego - the Red Angel of Preventing Harm - but it’s not every day he gets paid thanks when he saves someone. It’s also not every day he gets to save such a pretty woman, either. You, however, can’t just leave it at that. There must be some way in which you can properly thank him. Ulterior motives include getting to know this already loveable lug better but shh. It feels like the odds are finally turning in your favour and you won’t let this slip away from your grasp. That’s when it hits you.

Muttering under your breath, you erratically search through the confines of your little handbag. You are certain that you had one in here somewhere. In the spare pocket maybe? Ah! Found it. Fumbling to take the lid off of your pen, you hold out your hand, gesturing for his. He slowly complies, to which you jot down a series of digits on his palm accompanied by your name and a tiny 'x'.

"Gimme a text sometime," is the last thing he hears before you disappear around a corner.

Oh? Oh. Ohhh. Wow. Getting your number is the last thing he expected. Did he get hit on the head during that scuffle or something? Was everything from the last few minutes a dream? He bores holes into the writing on his skin, scanning it over and over, scared that it’ll disappear if he so much as blinks. A dumb, wobbly smile not so gracefully decorates his lips as he trudges back to the turtle tank. He takes his seat but it’s obvious that he isn’t all there. Being so caught up in his rose-tinted bubble, he doesn’t register his brothers' voices. In an effort to gain his attention, Michelangelo jumps onto his shoulder, partly intrigued by what their leader is so absorbed by.

"Oh me gosh!” the young brother screams in shrill excitement, “Raph's in love!"

Careful not to smudge the neat ink, he’s quick to hide his hand against his chest. "That's crazy talk!”

Donatello sniffs the air and mockingly covers his nose. "The overwhelming manifestation of your nervous stink indicates otherwise, dear brother."

"I got a girl’s number!” he continues to defend, feeling his face go all kinds of red. “'Course, I'm nervous but that don’t mean I’m in love."

Lies and slander. It was practically love at first sight. He just doesn’t like the idea of his brothers knowing that. It’s easy pickings to be made fun of.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Lucky for you, you got a guy who knows all about the charm." Leonardo points both thumbs at himself as he falls back into his seat and props his legs up on the dashboard. "First, you just need to..."

The "helpful" advice drowns out as the large snapper opens and gazes at his palm again. He just can't comprehend how a gorgeous individual such as yourself could take one look at him and give him your number. It's puzzling but he supposes there’s a first for everything? That also doesn't mean he won't text you. The only thing getting in the way of that is fear. Raphael thinks he’d rather go toe-to-toe with that mutant dog again than have to face the risk of embarrassing himself. To anyone who knows him, it’s no surprise that he caves under pressure. No. He will do it! A chance like this is one in a million.

Oh boy. What could possibly go wrong?

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queenimmadolla · 1 year

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hi!! i’m not so sure if you’re still doing pennyverse or not, but you should do one where she’s a teenager doing teenager things! whatever you’d like as the plot :) i love your writing so much

This one hurt ngl, this is how i know I’m not one for kids cause having penny grow up was PAINFUL. Hope you enjoy it, though!

(Dad!Eddie Munson/Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Mom!Reader)

more dad!eddie and penny adventures can be found here.

summary: Your daughter Penny is now a teenager >:| and Eddie is not happy about it. warnings: mentions of recreational drug usage, lil bit of fatherly hurt a/n: the UNBELIEVABLY HOT edit of Eddie was crafted by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple, whose edits have me in a chokehold. perfect depiction of how I see older!eddie in the penny 'verse.

“Hey, mom?”

“Hmn?” You responded, halting the task of organizing everything for the night ahead.

“I wanted to ask you something,” Penny stated, nervously fidgeting with her fingers as she approached the kitchen island.

Her younger brother snickered, not bothering to glance up from his Game Boy—though he fully intended on listening to this play out—as she glared at him.

You smirked, finger tapping against the box of popcorn you’d been about to open. It was clear from both of their mannerisms, what she wanted to ask would probably garner a no from you. You decided to humor her anyway.

“Okay,” you nodded, gesturing for her to go on.

She huffed, fingers reaching up to twirl around one of her curls. In the last couple of years, Penny had obviously grown significantly. She was still a little shorter than you—probably wouldn’t end up ever being taller than you—and while bits of Eddie obviously poked through her features (his eyes, his mouth and expressions), she was looking more and more like you every day. At one point, it had reached an uncanny degree and creeped you out a little.

Despite her physical alterations, her personality stayed the same. A big daddy’s girl, with her attitude and mischievous ways matching her father’s, it being the reason why you told her no so often.

“Can I hang out with Maria and Shanti tonight? There’s this party and─”

“Ah, stop right there,” you interrupted, having heard enough to know where this was going. Over the years, the party scene had also changed. Especially since you no longer lived in Hawkins. After Corroded Coffin got picked up 10 years ago, Eddie was always traveling, on tour to open for one famous band or another. Two years after, they’d broken through mainstream heavy metal and shot to the top of the charts, starting their first official tour of their own.

It had proved surprisingly difficult, being the wife of a rockstar who was always coming and going for work but Eddie hadn’t been about to lose you, always making sure his family came first. Eventually, it just made sense to make the move to Los Angeles—though you only agreed on the basis you’d be moving to one of the more quiet regions, away from all the millionaire mansions. While your home was definitely more than anything you could have dreamed up, it was still rather humble compared to the homes in West Hollywood; exactly what you and Eddie wanted.

It was still LA, though, and you were wary of the parties thrown in the area. The drug scene here was a whole other ballpark. Keeping Penny away from alcohol and drugs was something you knew, realistically, you wouldn’t be able to do. Encourage her not to drink and do drugs? Sure, and you did. Actively and repeatedly. But you’d been smoking weed at her age and drinking, so you couldn’t be a hypocrite. And you didn’t want to ruin your relationship by being the domineering parent. If she was going to do these things (and, as a parent, you really hoped she wouldn’t) you wanted her to trust you, and know she could come to you about these things rather than having to sleep off a high at a strange home or wait out the alcohol until she was sober enough to see you like you had to do when you were a teenager.

Despite your hopes and wishes, Penny was going to be a teenager—whether you liked it or not—but above all, you wanted her to be safe.

“You know why I don’t like these parties─”

“Mom!” She groaned, frowning at the way this conversation was going. “You’ve got to trust me, I’m not gonna do anything. I just want to have fun with my friends. Please?”

Dammit. She used the trust card.

You sighed, actually mulling it over. You didn’t like it. You really didn’t like it. But you remembered asking your mom something similar once and being denied. Tired of being refused the right to be a teenager despite never being trouble for your parents, you’d snuck out that night and, ironically, considering said track record, almost got in trouble. The cops had gotten involved with the party, you hadn’t been able to drive so you ended up having to walk across town in the middle of the night to make it home.

You didn’t want her sneaking out. You were about to cave, when suddenly you remembered exactly what you were preparing for when she interrupted you and guilt began to set in.

“You can go─”

“YES!”

“—if you get your dad’s permission.”

Penny instantly deflated, slumping down onto the island countertop. “Actually, I was hoping you’d talk to him for me.”

You and Wayne locked eyes and snorted.

“Baby, I would do anything for you, but not that. Not today.”

“What’s not today?” Eddie asked as he leaned against the doorway, scratching at the short hairs of his beard.

“Yeah, what’s not today?” Came a little voice from his side. Maple was clinging to her daddy’s leg, her little blanket clutched in her free arm.

Eddie reached down to stroke a palm over her buzzed head (Maple liked to watch King of the Hill with him and when she saw Luanne with no hair, she’d bugged and bugged and bugged until you finally caved and she hadn’t wanted to grow it out since), raising an eyebrow as he waited to be filled in. You and Wayne exchanged glances before you went back to pulling out snacks and he focused back on the game in his hand.

Penny huffed again before facing her father and tried not to wince, “Dad, I wanted to hang out with my friends tonight.”

Eddie blinked.

“But it’s Sunday.”

“Yeah, we’re on winter break, remember?”

Oh, he remembered but that wasn’t what he was referring to. “Baby, it’s Sunday. New episode of The Simpsons.”

It might have been trivial to others, but Eddie enjoyed every single second he got to spend with his family. After Corroded Coffin’s latest tour ended in the fall, Eddie had made sure his schedule was cleared for the rest of the year—save for playing two shows with Metallica, you’d threatened him if he said no to the opportunity of playing with his all time favorite band—for family time. This was a vital piece of it for him. Ever since it started airing, before Corroded Coffin was ever known and when Penny was still in diapers, it became routine to sit down and watch the show together.

Penny would always keep track of the time, and five minutes before it was due to start, she’d be tugging him by the hand to the couch and climbing in his lap. You’d snuggle up to his side, and when you’d had Wayne, he’d get comfy in your lap. Whenever Eddie was home from tour, it was the same thing; something that kept him sane and happy.

And now Penny basically wanted to kill him. Hadn’t growing up been enough for her? She wanted to deprive him of his bonding time, too?

“I know,” came her hesitant reply as she lifted her shoulders.

His heart was breaking. Eddie’s gaze darted from her to you and back.

“Did your mom say it was okay?” He knew how you felt about her going out, hopefully you’d already said no and this was one of those ‘let me ask the other parent things’.

“Yeah.” Penny nodded, glancing over her shoulder at your back as you pretended to not hear every single word. It was like you and Eddie shared a heart, and you could very much feel his pain.

Eddie stared at her for a couple of moments, stared right into those big beautiful brown eyes of hers, his tongue pressing against his canine tooth.

He knows he’s supposed to see Penny, his 15 year old daughter, but he just sees his baby girl; his tiny little toddler in her overalls with her untamable curls going in every direction and remnants of a sticky treat smeared over fat-filled baby cheeks, who always wanted to be around him, be with him. That’s who he sees staring back up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

But that’s not her anymore, is it?

Eddie blinked, glancing away from her as he cleared his throat and tried to will the moisture from his eyes away even though he knew he’d get high and cry over this later.

“Uh, yeah. Sure, baby. You go have fun.”

“Thank you, daddy!” Penny rushed forward, mindful of Maple as she hugged Eddie. He held onto her for longer than was necessary but she had a feeling this was hard for him, and she still loved it when he held her so she let him.

Then she’d almost bound out of the kitchen before she whirled around on her heels and ran to hug you from behind, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Curfew.” You reminded her and she nodded in agreement, not willing to push her luck and moved onto her next target.

Penny sunk her hand into Wayne’s curls, shaking his head and laughing as she bobbed away in time to escape his swipe.

“Later, knucklehead.”

“Don’t touch me, beyotch.”

“WAYNE!” You and Eddie shouted while Penny just laughed and made a run for the front door before you and Eddie could change your minds.

“What? I say it to her all the time.” He shrugged and got off the island stool, making his way to the living room so you couldn’t yell at him. Wayne had grown over the years, too.

While he had started off looking like an exact replica of Penny, his features had changed a bit. He still resembled you quite a bit but he had his dad’s nose, eyes, chin and dimple, making the similarities nearly uncanny. Unlike his dad (though Eddie had recently cut his mane), Wayne liked to keep his hair short but was alike to Penny as he also had his dad’s personality and attitude, and then some.

Wayne had been diagnosed with autism in the past—had nothing to do with the circumstances of his birth—and while you’d been briefly concerned about how to raise him, it was clear he’d be just fine in life, he really only interacted with the world differently than others, lacked a filter but he was still a sweetheart. To anyone except his sisters, anyways but it was always playful. On multiple occasions you’d caught them all conked out together in the living room or each other's rooms.

Maple detached herself from Eddie to follow him and you listened to their commentary.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Oh my god, Maple.”

“Is it because you’re autistic?”

“No, it’s not because—maybe it is, I don’t know, just—shush.”

You rolled your eyes and abandoned your task again in favor of comforting Eddie. He sagged into you as your arms curled around his waist.

“Honey, I’m gonna need a bowl to survive tonight.”

“I’ll pack you one,” you cooed, pressing a kiss to his pouty lips. “I know that must have been very hard for you.”

“The other two are gonna finish me off if they try to grow up.”

Almost an hour and a half later, in the midst of the episode, you got up to get a refill of popcorn and encountered Penny as she walked through the front door.

You hadn’t been expecting her back for at least another two hours.

“Hey, baby.” You approached her with a gentle tone, mom senses tingling. Penny looked nervous.

You were about to ask her what was wrong when she blurted out, “I got high, mom.”

Okay, you hadn’t been expecting that so you tried to school your shock. “Oh.”

“They were passing around a bong and I took a hit and I just wanted to come home.”

“Okay.” You could tell it was her first experience with it, thank fuck, and while you weren’t pleased she’d done it, you were happy she’d come back home when she was obviously freaking out and where she’d be able to sober up in a safe setting. “Why don’t you go upstairs and get into your pajamas? The episode is still going on, you can curl up on the couch with us if you want.”

She looked relieved and nodded before running upstairs to her room.

By the time you’d made more popcorn and returned to the den, Penny was back downstairs, in her PJs, and curled into Eddie’s free side, the side she’d always occupied. While Eddie had gotten over the majority of his blues by the time The Simpsons started, you could tell he was still a little sad.

Now, there wasn’t a trace of the emotion on his face, he looked perfectly content and happy as he beckoned you over to his other side, your spot and you went willingly.

Eddie pressed a kiss to your head as you resettled yourself, and relaxed further into the comfortable couch. The family of yellow cartoon characters held his attention for just a moment before his eyes did one last sweep.

Despite the open recliner and their bickering, Wayne and Maple—heads barely visible with all the blankets they were hogging—shared the love seat.

Penny looked relaxed—she seemed anxious when she’d come in to the den to join them and surprised the fuck out of Eddie—eyelids drooping as she cuddled right up to him.

Then his eyes fell on you. The lights from the television danced over your face, the perfect picture of peace as you rested your head on his shoulder, hand over his chest. Eddie wanted to kiss you so bad.

You always said that your shared life was Eddie’s doing but he knew the truth. You’d given him all of this.

For some strange reason, one he was very thankful for, you wanted him out of everyone in Hawkins. You’d married him, a loser who took three fucking years to graduate high school. You’d given him one child, then another and still encouraged him to pursue his dreams. He honestly hadn’t expected to play anywhere but in state. And when his band blew up, you still stayed by his side and gave him another baby. It wasn’t easy, he remembers the fights, the tears and every single trial thrown your way but the two of you had made it out on top with your family intact and stronger than ever.

Homer’s yelp of pain followed by his family’s laughter brought Eddie out of his contemplation and he joined in.

Yeah, this was the life.

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jazz-miester · 1 year

Note

Yandere Bayverse!Optimus x Decepticon Mech reader smut?

Also, I wanted to say that I LOVE your works! Especially that one Optimus x reader one.. it has me in a chokehold. Anyways, feel free to ignore!

Hung Over You

Pairing: Bayverse Optimus x reader

Reader type: Decepticon Mech

Song: Lady Lie- Rainbow kitten surprise

Warnings: I'm gonna put Dubious Consent here as a warning. I. Honestly i'd rather be safe than sorry yall. And please please for all that is holy. Get absolute consent from your partners before doing anything. If the yes isn't given whole heartedly and said with everything the person has to offer. Don't do it. It's not worth it.

An: Aww you're too sweet! I'm glad that you like my stuff so much! Hope that this is what you wanted lol. I'm not to familiar with the yandere thing so im lowkey just winging it. Also putting this under a read more because this came out to be 4186 words long lol.

Tags: @rawmeknockout hope you don't mind me tagging you in this lol.

You have caught his optic. Which honestly is the most dangerous thing you have ever had happen to you. There has been. Rumours that have spread from out of the Autobot ranks. But they had been rumours. Right?

Primes don't do that. They. They don't.

Not once did you truly worry though. When would you ever see him? You were one of the few medics that the Decepticon army had left. Most others had defected to the Autobots.

Really. It made sense. They left so they could work in a slightly safer environment where you were less likely to be offed by your patients. Still, even with how long you've been with the Decepticons you find yourself wondering why. Why have you stayed for so long despite the Decepticons going so far out of the ballpark of what they once stood for.

It was becoming less and less often you would find that reason to stay. And at this point you were only finding it in the older mechs. Those who were forced into their casts by the functionists all because they transformed into something other than a silly little microscope.

They were the ones that still fight so they would no longer have to risk their lives on a job that they higher nobles where to afraid to do. They stuck with the original Decepticon ideals so that their future younglings wouldn't have to live the harsh and horrid lives they did.

They are the reason you kept going. Kept doing what you did. They were he reason you still had a flicker of hope for the Decepticons. That Megatron was truly fighting for your peace. That he would lead Cybertronian kind into a new era. One of peace and prosperity in the way they never had before. A life where your frame didn't dictate how and who you would be.

You lost that little ember of hope on a Decepticon battlefield. Every attempt you made to help the others. To heal, to mend. All of it in vain when the bombs began to rain from above.

Again and again you went out dragging in bots and cons alike to some semblance of safety as the bombs screamed in the sky. You were forced to quit when an Autobot. And old and ancient mech stopped you and pulled you into the shelter. It was his rust colored paint that filled your vision as he gave you some sense of solace.

It was with him you grieved the loss of any hope you had left.

All of this. The wrought and ruin of his own troops, supplies, territory. All of it destroyed for a blind assault on the chance he could kill his enemy.

All of it because Megatron was to much of a coward to face Optimus Prime himself.

You did all you could. Tending to the injured. Helping even the Autobots. Or at least all that would allow you to.

It felt like a life cycle for the bombs to quit falling. Longer still for the metal of Cybertron to settle. And longer for the air to become ventable once again.

You did what you could to lead the injured up and out.

A lot of Decepticons turned their back on the cause after that. Most choosing the neutral path. Not willing to chance facing their brothers and sisters. Friends. Lovers.

Some, like you, pledged yourself to the Autobot cause.

It was on that battlefield that you saw him for the first time.

Optimus Prime.

There was a million and one warning bells going off in your helm the closer he came.

"Are you here to fight, or to stay?" His voice rumbled like distant thunder just before a storm of acid rain. This was the same question he had asked every con before you.

"Stay, I suppose." You spoke after a moment. You had long since torn away the Decepticon insignia. You could still feel the distant ache in your sparkchamber.

A botched job for what should have been the greatest moment in your lifecycle.

It meant nothing now.

"I have heard you helped my troops mech. Is this true?" Blue optics looked you up and down then stopped on your own. For the briefest moment you wondered if he could see you. Truly see you. As if the matrix gave him some supernatural ability to pick apart your very spark.

Cybertronians used to worship Primes.

"I did." You answered. "And I will continue to do so. If you allow. Optimus Prime." A grin split his lips when you were done speaking.

"If you are willing then yes.." He trailed off.

"Y/n sir." The Prime tilted his helm. Mouthed your name.

"Y/n." Something about the way he spoke it sent your spark pounding. Your takes turning.

Megatron sounded like that once.

Just before everything went to slag in a hand basket.

That wasn't the last time you saw the Autobot leader. And it certainly wouldn't be the last.

"Y/n! Mech! Pay attention slaggit!" Ratchet's voice was right in your audio receptor. His servos moved with more efficiently than you have ever seen in any mech or femme. It was supernatural, almost, to watch.

The two of you were elbow deep in a mech. The damned frontliner decided to play hero.

You could have sworn you had seen Optimus. There in a window that the assistant has forgotten to close.

"He's damned good. For a con." Ratchet would both praise and poke at you at the same time. "I'm glad he's on our side though."

You were proud with where you were at the moment. You had built a reputation for yourself. Worked in a place that made your skills worth something. You worked with bots that wouldn't have your helm for just venting wrong near them.

You caught a snippets of Ratchets and Ironhides conversation from where you were organizing field kits. Restocking and filing inventory on this had fallen to you after a while.

Well. You were until Optimus came spilling in. Energon flowed freely onto the floor where it really shouldn't have been.

Two mechs carried him in. You were quick to clear a med berth off. Already you were in the process of cleaning when Ratchet began barking orders

Time to show Ironhide those skills Ratchet was bragging about.

Sometime later and what seemed like an obscene amount of energon, Optimus was deemed stable. Currently he was sleeping off the anesthetics.

"Will you keep an optic on him and tell me when he wakes kid?" You looked up from the data pad you were typing on when Ratchet spoke. "I have some reports I need to finish and I need to plan some care for when he wakes up." You waved a servo.

"I've got it Ratchet. Go do what you need to." With a heavy sigh he left. Muttering about Primes being stupid and self sacrificing for no good Primus damned reason.

You went back to restocking field kits. You needed something to do with your servos while you waited for him to wake up.

Which wasn't much longer after you finished. The Prime woke with a start. Bolting upright as he took in where he was. Some part of his processer still stuck out there on the feild.

It was only after he swing his legs over the side of the berth did you walk towards him.

"Prime. You need to stay laying down. If you get up now you could re open the welds me and Ratchet placed." Your voice was low. Soothing. The same voice you have used a thousand times over for Decepticon coming out of general anesthetics. At least this time you were greeted with a look rather that blaster fire.

Really. Megatron should have implemented some sort of psychiatric treatment for his troop.

Optimus said nothing as you walked up to him. Slowly you placed one servo on his shoulder. "I need to check on the welds before I go and get Ratchet. Are you ok with that or do you want me to get him to do it?" You always gave them the option. Some still didn't trust you. Former Decepticon and all.

"You may." The Prime leaned back slightly. His legs spreading further apart as he balanced himself. You said nothing other than giving him a nod before going to check the welds across his abdomen.

The welds looked ok. And they were still holding up despite the fact he decided to spring up off the berth. You took the opportunity to glance at the ones on his arms. Then checking the cabling at his neck that had become undone.

You froze for a moment when he leant forward. Slumping as if suddenly overcome by fatigue. Out of reflex you caught him by the shoulers. Bracing him as he fell forward. Optimus's helm fell on your shoulder. His servo brushing against your hip and thigh.

"Slaggit! Prime are you ok?" You pushed back on him. Righting the blue colored Prime. "Are you dizzy? Any pains that we were not aware of?" You looked over his face plates. Looking for the drain of nanites and fuzzy unfocused optics.

Nothing.

"I am fine. Just." He paused. "Apologies, Y/n. I did not mean to cause concern." There. Again. That same look he gave you on the battlefield sometime ago.

"Are you sure? It is no issue. I can go get Ratchet. He wanted me to get him after you woke anyways." A slight flicker on his face plates. A sort of, annoyance? Then.

"Get him if you must. Ratchet is my CMO for a reason." It wasn't until you pulled away did you realize Optimus's servo had been on your waist that entire time. Only did you know when you pulled away and his digits grazed along the dark grey plating.

You felt like you were going insane. Someone was leaving you gifts. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for the fact it was inside your habsuit on your berth.

They were the things you liked. Sweetened energon candies. A very specific polish you thought you would never find again. There was even a praxian crystal rose at one point. Who would give that away to a former Con you would never know. After the fall of Praxus they had become scarce.

You saw Optimus a few times after he had been discharged from the med bay. He came a few times afterwards to keep the welds in check and to make sure the new cabling in his throat had took.

You had been the one to check on the welds after a while. And to make sure the Prime had proper movement in his left arm. The one that you were now currently holding and moving to ensure fluid movement in the shoulder joint.

There was that look again. Like he was staring into your very soul. You felt that if you bared your spark chamber you would feel less exposed.

"And this? Any pain, aches?" The Prime rumbled out a laugh. Not once had he looked away from you.

"No. Truly, it is fine. You've done a very good job." You could feel your faceplates warm. Not use to any type of praise.

"It was hardly all me. Ratchet did the bulk of it." Optimus humed. Pulling his arm away. His digits brushed against your chassis before they settled in his lap. He flexed his palms and you couldn't help but to look.

Only to sputter a cough before he looked up. Almost getting caught ogling the Primes thighs.

"Still. You have done good. I am grateful to have such a skilled mech on our side. Your skills are valued here, y/n." He spoke your name with an intensity.

The two of you locked optics for a moment. The Prime almost drawing you in. He servo rose and hovered next to yours. You swore he almost would have taken it in his if it weren't for Ratchet calling him to his office.

The look that covered his facelates looked almost murderous. You had stepped back when he did that. And the look had fallen almost as quickly as it had came. Filled with a different, almost fearful look at your reaction.

The Prime rose and left. Giving you one last look before going to meet Ratchet. When you glanced back down to the berth you felt you tanks turned.

There, in the center of the berth, was a singular Praxian rose. The one that twined the other currently beneath your berth.

You said nothing about it to anyone. Instead quickly taking it and placing it within your subspace before Ratchet or any of the other medics or assistants could notice.

When Optimus left he had caught your optic then glanced at the berth the rose had been on. When he noticed it was gone and how quickly you had looked away. He smiled.

That night you had went to your habsuit shaken. Placing the rose with the other things you had been given.

Was. Was Optimus the one doing this? It would make sense seeing as how he would be one of the few with the proper codes to get into your habsuit.

But why? Why you? And was it really you?

You didn't fall into recharge that night. And you were in a daze for the next day cycle. Ratchet having reprimanded you more than once for your forgetfulness.

You nearly dropped the glass vials holding nanites when you saw him in the window looking into the supply closet. Optimus had studied you briefly before leaving.

You didn't move for many klicks. Servos shaking as you tried to calm yourself.

The next few days went the same. Catching Optimus in the corner of your optics every time you turned. It made you jumpy. Skittish. You began to pull away from the bots you had made friends with. Even to Ratchet who seemed to be concerned. But he said nothing. Did nothing other than lay his servo on your shoulder and give you the most sympathetic look you had ever seen.

"Y/n. Prime needs you in his office." You glanced up dumbly to the femme that had called your name. You had been in the rec room watching some old holo vids Toptwist had put on. A chorus of oohs had filled the room. Most of the bots acting like you had just been called to the headmaster's office in the academy.

Instead you swallowed thickly and nodded your helm at the femme.

You're frame is shaking the entire walk down the hall. Your mind was racing.

Did you do something wrong? If so then what? As far as you knew you were doing everything Ratchet needed you to. You didn't cause any problems with the others. No matter how much you wanted to throttle some of them when they wouldn't stop fragging you over just because you used to be a Con.

Is that why? Did some mech of femme complain about you being a former Decepticon?

You didn't want to lose what you had here. To much. It. You had finally found a reason to keep fighting. The Autobots they held up the ideals that the Decepticons used to have.

You don't think you would be able to quit this. Not without some consequence on your mental health. You needed this.

You stopped before the door to Optimus Primes office. You didn't know if you should com him or knock on the door. In the end you chose the latter. Fisted servo hovering before the engraved metal door for a klick before you knocked.

Ice flooded your frame. Something. Something spoke to you about this being a bad idea. That you should turn. Run.

Instead you ignored that millennia forged instinct.

"Enter." Optimus's voice sounded from the other side of the door after you knocked. The door sliding open and closing behind you quickly when you stepped inside.

His office was quaint. Small. There were odds and ends decorating shelves. A few organic plants here and there that looked well taken care of. It was such a rare sight to see. The war on Cybertron and rendered all organic life null. Unable to grow in such an hostile enviroment.

There were data pads from floor to roof on one wall. Suddenly you remember that the great Prime was just once a simple archivist in Iacon.

"There's no need to stand near the door, dear Y/n. I promise. You are not in any trouble here." Your helm snaps from the shelves of data pads and towards the Prime sitting at his desk. It was cluttered with data pads and reports. A few trinkets here and there. There was even a floating holo screen of what you assumed was him and a few other bots in one corner.

"I was told you needed me sir?" You strode to the center of the room. Just before the Primes desk. He smiled and shook his helm before rising from his seat.

"Please. There is no need for formalities here. I am just Optimus. " The Prime rounded the side of his desk before leaning against the side of it. Crossing his arms over his chassis.

You swallowed thickly. Finding yourself falling into a parade rest. "I was told you needed me, Optimus?" You repeated the question with his name instead. He gave a small laugh when he looked over at you.

"I meant it when I said there was no need for formalities Y/n. Please." Optimus pushed himself away from the desk as you made an attempt to stand comfortably. It was a little awkward.

Optimus stopped before you by less that a foot. You had to raise you helm to look him in the optics. You were not exactly a small mech but you reached just below the Primes chin.

"But yes. I did want you down here. I wanted to discuss something with you." His servo rose. The palm of his servo hovering just next to your helm before settling firmly on your shoulder. You couldn't help but look to that servo. Then to him as he began talking once again. "I have heard you've done good work here. And i'm proud of the fact that you are." The servo fell then digits hooked just below your chin.

Your spark began pounding in your chest. "I expect you have met my gifts well?" You optics widden and you pull away from those digits.

"That was you?" Your voice rose slightly at the end. At least that was a conformation. Whether or not it set you at ease was debatable to say the least.

"Of course. I'm sorry I couldn't deliver them in person though. I didn't need the others thinking I was playing favorites." His optics looked your faceplates over. His glossa darted out to wet his lips. "I find you to be the most brilliant mech I have had the honour to have in my troops yet. Y/n I have been hung over you since the moment I saw you." His servos cup either side of your helm. The size of them almost engulfing you.

"There is something addicting about you. I have yet to lay my servo on it. But. I wish to have you, if you will." His thumb brushed along your bottom lip. His optics following the movement of his thumb as he did this. "Of course we will have to keep this secret for a while. But I do not mind." His voice was low. Almost rattling in your chassis from how close he was now.

Chassis to chassis. Touching. So close. If the two of you were to slide the metal away. Surely your sparks would touch. The gesture here. Now. It was intimate.

Suffocating.

"Sir we can't. Its." Optimus's face darkened.

"Optimus. Please. Call me Optimus." His servos fell and once reached down to grab yours. He brought it up to his lips and layed a kiss on your scarred knuckles. His optics were on you the entire time. Blown wide with. Attraction? Lust? "And we can. The others will learn to deal with it."

Something pleasurable flooded your field when his wrapped over yours. Your processer fogged and you didn't know what to do. "Optimus I." You stopped when that pleasure flooded over you again. You legs shook and before you knew it you were moving. Your legs hit the desk and one moment you were standing. The next you were sitting. Optimus's servos wrapped around your thighs as he lifted yo up and onto it.

For a moment the fog lifted and you looked up to see a loopy grin on the Primes faceplates.

"Oh you look stunning just like that. I wonder if I could make you make that face again." He was between your legs. His servo traveled from your thigh and over your hip. It sprawled out over your stomach plating and up your chassis. His digits dipped in seems and pulled at wires that had a heat pooling below.

You whimper when his lips finally connecting with yours. Shivers running down your frame as he moves fervently. His servos cradle your helm as he does this. Drawing you in close. You servos find his wrists. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him away or hold him there so he would keep going.

He did leave you those gifts. It. It makes sense that he wouldn't do it in person. Right?

Right?

The two of you pull away with heated breaths. A string of fluid following your lips before breaking apart.

Your faceplates felt hot. Your vents where going rapidly. Trying to cool your heated frame.

Optimus lent in again and again. Laying kiss after kiss until he found your neck. Nibbling and sucking along the cabling there. You shiver and shook at the assault. Your frame reacting pleasantly to what he was doing.

"Such sweet sounds you are making. I wonder if you will sing the same while on my spike." His hips rolled as he said this. His servo landed on top of your interface array. "Please? My Y/n please?" Optimus spoke breathlessly. His helm pressed to yours. Your nose bumping against his as he moved to press another kiss to your lips. "For me? Please?"

And you did. Your array springing open and revealing your spike and valve to the room.

"The. The door. Is it locked?" You asked.

"Mmm? Yes." Optimus told you. His digits fluttering over your valve. A whimper left your lips as he teased you. Digits skimming over your valve. Your aching node to tease your weeping spike. "Look at you. Is all this for me?" He pressed a kiss to your chin.

"Yeah." You spoke. "Yeah. Just for you." A low moan left you when he sunk his digits within you. Digits curling as he pumped them in and out of you. He moved slowly. Gathering the fluid that left you and spreading his digits apart to slowly ease you into taking his spike.

He didn't want to hurt you after all. Not after waiting for so long. And not with you being so nice and willing.

You almost cried when those cleaver digits left you. Only for you to give a shudder when he put those same digits in his mouth. Glossa working around and between his digits tasting everything you had to offer.

"You taste sweeter than I thought you would be Y/n." He humed as his own interface array pulled away. He gave is own spike a few languid strokes before placing it between your shaking legs. "Relax. I will not hurt you." The tip of his spike pressed into you. "Relax my y/n." He guided himself within you. Moving slowly. He briefly pulled back at one point before sliding forward.

Optimus paused when he was fully seated within you. Giving his hips a few experimental rolls as he watched you come completely undone beneath him.

He was absolutely enthralled with the way you threw your helm back when he began to move. He happily complied with your pleas of more. Harder. Just like that.

You were being so good. So kind after all. How was he not to do what you asked when you were doing such a good job. He even told you as much.

"Look at you. Being such a good mech for me. You are taking me so well my y/n." His hips stuttered when he felt you squeeze around him from the praise. "You are taking my spike so good. You pretty valve feels so nice. So good. Gripping my spike so." He paused when he felt pleasure rack through him when you squeezed him once again.

Optimus was sure to note this in the back of his helm for future fragging sessions.

He could feel his overload coming and coming quickly. And if the way your were keening and moaning. Chanting his name so sweetly. Well, he knew yours was close as well.

Optimus rolled his field over yours and watched as you threw your helm back. Static spitting out of your vocalizer as you overloaded and over loaded hard. Your frame falling pliant under his servos.

Optimus found his soon after you. Pulling you close and leaning on your body.

He was sure to bring you into his habsuit. Cleaning your dirtied frame. Optimus took in the welled energon on your neck cabling. The slight paint transfer around your thighs from your coupling.

He'd be damned if he was letting you leave anytime soon.

#Maccadam #valveplug #Optimus Prime x reader #bayverse optimus x reader #bayverse optimus #optimus prime #yandere optimus prime #request #anon

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contemplatingoutlander · 6 months

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I’m starting to think Donald Trump is sounding like Hitler on purpose

Satirist Alexandra Petri hits another one out of the ballpark. ⚾😁 This is a gift🎁link, so anyone can read this column, even if they don't subscribe to The Washington Post. Below are some excerpts:

Sorry! I know! You are sick of hearing about Donald Trump! “Don’t worry,” people keep saying. Donald Trump did just promise to “root out” the internal enemies who “live like vermin” in our country, but he only might be the next president. I don’t mean to worry you, but people are running around with their hair on fire, saying they are suffering from intense, nauseating levels of déjà vu, and those people are historians. I don’t like seeing historians this stressed out. If something in my house has to emit an ominous beeping, I want it to be the alarm clock, not the smoke detector. “We pledge to you that we will root out the communists, Marxists, fascists and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country that lie and steal and cheat on elections,” Trump announced on Veterans Day. And when people complained that sounded like something Adolf Hitler would say, a spokesman responded that “their entire existence will be crushed when President Trump returns to the White House.” Which, to be fair, also sounds like something Hitler would say. When you say, “What you just said sounds very much like Hitler’s rhetoric,” you don’t want that to be taken as a challenge. The response you are hoping for is something more like: “Oh no! That was not how we meant to sound, and we are going to leave political life and rethink everything about ourselves and hope that by our final day, we can say we atoned a little bit.” This is not a problem that most candidates have! Ominous, dictatorial rhetoric is not a hard thing to avoid for most candidates. Except possibly for the ones who are running for school boards on the platform of “Let’s ban books,” which also, candidly, I do not love. I can see accidentally saying something like, “I love to stand on a balcony” or “I am interested to see more fashion by Hugo Boss,” but those are not the kinds of things we are talking about. You cannot just “oops” your way into dehumanizing huge swaths of the population. [color emphasis added]

I encourage folks to use the gift link above to read the rest of this column. These are frightening times, but I'm always grateful that when some of us get tired of screaming in fear😱, Alexandra Petri can make us laugh.😂

#trump #fascism #satire #alexandra petri #the washington post #gift link

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the-modern-typewriter · 8 days

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It's been brought to my attention that there are people out there who are sadly plagiarising my work again.

1. This is not okay.

To clarify, while I'm very happy for people to take inspiration from my stories (in the same way you might any book you read from a bookshop), I don't want my work used or reposted without credit.

I'm not going to go into lengths on why it is wrong to plagiarise someone else's writing. I don't think my tumblr post is magically going to change anyone's mind, especially as if you've followed me long enough you know we've done this rodeo before.

So.

2. How to tell when writing is plagiarised

It can be very difficult to tell when something is plagiarised, especially if we have never come across the original work before and have no reason to recognise it.

I don't think it's realistic for everyone to vet everything they come across online for plagiarism, but it's also something I don't see talked about a lot for fiction.

These questions to ask yourself are not foolproof and not applicable to everything. But I think they can be a start.

If the writer has posted more than one story, is there a similarity across them? While writing style can change across an author's different pieces, there is still usually going to be a similar feel across stories if they came from the same person. Writers have voices and quirks and little things that are specific to them. If every piece feels wildly different then it might be coming from different places. This is probably going to come down to gut reaction and instinct in the first instance. But that's okay. Because that gut reaction is just there to make you think twice and maybe investigate more thoroughly.

How much are they posting? Can people churn an extraordinary amount of words out? Yes, sometimes. But...as a general ballpark, no. Writing takes time and effort. If someone is coming out with enormous amounts of writing every day or week or month or whatever, then this can be a hint to look a little closer.

Do you ever see hints of their writing process? Can the writer talk about their characters or what they want out of the story or anything like that? Do they ever post a story organically in response to a request or whatever? Not all writers know in-depth everything about their story or characters or plot, but the main point here is that the finished product is the tip of the iceberg. If someone is a writer than there is more going on beneath the surface of the posted stories.

I hope this helps!

#writing #plagiarism #ai is a problem but it's one built on the disregard of people #plagiarizing #writing community

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lorcandidlucienwill · 6 months

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Lucien x Nesta friendship drabble

Nesta introduces Lucien to her chosen family! @sonics-atelier I wrote it :)) Nesta surveyed the Autumn Court male coolly. She could see the similarities between his face and Eris’s. Her sister had not overstated his cruel beauty. Since she was now married to his brother, and he was in turn mated to Elain…she supposed she would have to get to know him now. That didn’t mean she was going to make it easy on him. She let pure dismissal freeze over her stare as she looked him over. Lucien Vanserra did not balk from her stare. A ghost of a smirk flitted across his face as she continued to stare him down. “Are you admiring my metal eye, or just contemplating killing me, Nesta Archeron?” Nesta couldn’t help the small smile that spread over her face. There were few who could tolerate her spiciness. Cassian had been unable to; he had loved her spiciness, sure, but only when it was directed at others. Not him. But both Lucien and Eris loved it. It must be those Autumn court genes.

“I was just wondering…” She gestured to that eye. “I forgot who made that for you. Or did you make it yourself?”

Lucien laughed. “By the Cauldron, no. I have a very dear friend in the Dawn Court who specializes in this sort of thing. She herself has a metal arm, you know.” Nesta straightened. “What is her name?”

Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you want to know?”

“Just for a friend,” Nesta said evasively. Lucien snorted. “You’re going to have to give me more than that horseshit if you want me to reveal her name.”

“What’s the big deal?” Nesta snapped.

“I don’t know you,” Lucien said simply. “I’d like to know why you want to know. You’re married to a brother I haven’t had a proper relationship with in centuries and possess incredible powers in the Dread Trove and that death magic you got going. Forgive me for being cautious.”

Nesta sighed. She wanted to argue further, but he wasn’t exactly wrong. “Fine. One of my friends, Emerie, is an Illyrian. The Illyrians have a barbaric practice of cutting their women’s wings. So… I was wondering if this friend of yours could possibly make her metal wings.”

Lucien gaped. “Are you fucking kidding me? How is such a practice still occurring after all this time? Hasn’t that stupid Inner Circle done anything about it?”

“Apparently not,” Nesta said. “But about the wings…”

“This seems within her ballpark. Why don’t I take all of you to see her? Nuan will be able to judge better than me.”

Nesta nodded. “Let me talk to Gwyn and Emerie and get back to you.”

Later that day, Gwyn and Emerie arrived in tow with Nesta. “Do you really think she’ll be able to make the wings?” Gwyn asked. Her teal eyes were as large as saucers and filled with hope. Emerie was taut as a bowstring by her side, not daring to voice the hopes in her mind. Lucien only smiled gently at Gwyn. “Nuan hasn’t failed yet.” As if in emphasis, Lucien’s metal eye whirred to focus more fully on Gwyn. Emerie jumped away, cussing, but Gwyn grinned. “That is so cool.”

Lucien smirked. “It gave me the ability to see things that nobody else can see. So, in a way, losing my eye was a blessing.”

“How did you lose it?” Nesta asked.

Lucien turned to her. “You probably know that Prythian was ruled by that tyrant Amarantha for fifty years.” Nesta nodded. “Well, I told her to go back to the shit-hole she crawled out of. So, she clawed out my eye.” Emerie’s jaw dropped, and Gwyn murmured noises in awe. Nesta raised her brows, impressed against her will. “That’s exceptionally brave of you.”

Lucien shrugged. “I don’t respond well to threats or tyrants.” Flame sizzled in his brown eye. Nesta smiled. “Neither do I.” Lucien laughed. “I figured as much when you made a death promise to the King of Hybern.”

Nesta smiled at Lucien. She didn’t know him well, but she had already decided she liked the male.

“I’m not sure I can winnow all three of you,” Lucien said. “You should probably bring my brother, Nesta.” Nesta nodded and came to get him.

Lucien was left alone in the room with Emerie and Gwyn. “Who cut off your wings?” Lucien asked. Ok, maybe not the best icebreaker, but they’d asked about his eye so it was only fair. Emerie grimaced. “My father.”

Lucien swore, low and vicious. “Asshole father. I can relate.”

Emerie scoffed. “Wonder what it’s like to have decent parents?”

“Beats me,” Lucien said. He turned to Gwyn. “Do you know?”

Gwyn shrugged. “I barely remember mine.”

“That’s a step up from being traumatized by them, I suppose,” Lucien said, and the three of them laughed. Nesta returned to the room with her husband in tow. “Lucien, can you take Gwyn and Emerie?” “Yes,” Lucien said. He avoided speaking to his brother. “Hold on tight, my ladies,” Lucien said softly to Nesta’s friends. Gwyn was positively beaming at him, and Emerie was little better. Nesta wasn’t sure if she should be glad the two of them were so comfortable in another male’s presence, or irritated that they’d fallen for the Vanserra charm so quickly. Not like she could talk, though. Eris had a shit-eating grin on his face as Nesta faced him. “Looks like my brother might just steal your friends away from you.” “That would only make me as friendless as you, Eris.”

Eris chuckled. “Why do I need friends when I have you, Nesta Archeron?”

Nesta blushed as Eris winnowed them away.

The dawn court was exquisite. The colors in the sky were so soft and comforting, like honey. It wasn’t quite as beautiful as the Autumn Court, but it had its own charm. It was a little chilly, and Lucien was about to offer Nesta his cloak when Eris beat him to the punch. He shrugged, offering his cloak to Gwyn instead, who gladly took it. He led the way to the metal workshop he had frequented countless times to hang out with his good friend. Nuan squealed in delight when she saw him, running over to hug him. “Lulu! I missed you!!”

Nesta turned to Lucien incredulously. “Lulu?”

Lucien rolled his eyes. “She earned the right to call me that after she made my eye.”

Nesta and Eris wore identical smirks on their faces, and Lucien was about to roast the shit out of them when Nuan spoke again. “Are we here for the Illyrian?”

Emerie stiffened ever so slightly. “I stopped being Illyrian the moment my father cut my wings. I am a Valkyrie.”

“As you say,” Nuan said.

“Yes, Nuan. We were wondering if you would be able to make prosthetic wings for her.”

Nuan inspected the shredded wings. “This has been cut highly unevenly,” Nuan said. “I may have to cut a little bit more off to make it more even. Under a faerie drug, of course, so she wouldn’t feel anything.”

Nesta said, “Emerie? Are you ok with that?”

Emerie was staring at Nuan. “If I let you do that, would you be able to make wings for me? Would I be able to fly again?”

“You would need to relearn how to fly, of course, but yes, I can perfectly make usable wings for you.” Silent tears poured down Emerie’s face, and Nesta and Gwyn moved to embrace her. Lucien’s heart strained at the camaraderie, the easy acceptance and understanding. Something he had had himself, once upon a time. He shut down the thought.

“How much would it cost?”

“Seventy faerie bits, but for my favorite customer, I’ll give you a 15-bit discount,” Nuan said, swatting his arm playfully. Lucien grinned. “You honor me, my lady. And how long will it take to make?”

Nuan thought. “I was actually halfway into a wing project, which I think I can perfectly mold to fit her wingspan. Overall, probably a day?”

Lucien turned to his companions. “Are you all fine with staying?”

Nesta arched a brow at Lucien. “And do you have a place where we can stay?”

Lucien gasped in mock horror. “Of course I do! What sort of male do you take me for, Lady Death?”

“Certainly one with a death wish, foxy.”

“I’m perfectly happy to stay if everybody else is,” Eris said. “It’s not like I had anything specific going on today.”

“Same,” Emerie said. Gwyn nodded in agreement. “Then come with me, everyone.” “Are you ready?” Nuan asked Emerie. The jagged edges of her ruined wings had been evened out so that Nuan could attach her new microfiber wings. “They’re not quite bat wings,” Nuan admitted. “They’re closer to Peregryn wings, but that just means they’re softer and more flexible. And more colorful, if you’d like.”

Emerie’s eyes widened. “You mean I can make them whatever color I want?” “Of course.” Emerie grinned at her companions. “How cool would it be if I had purple wings?”

“It would match your friendship bracelet,” Nesta said.

Lucien snorted. “You guys have friendship bracelets? And you were making fun of my friend’s nickname for me.” Nesta grinned at Lucien. “Yes we have friendship bracelets, and we are not ashamed, foxy.”

Lucien shrugged. “If you say so.”

Later, Nuan carefully approached Emerie with the purple wings. “Hold still,” she commanded. The wings were very complicated, with many interlocking pieces, but finally Nuan got them on.

“Flap,” she ordered. Emerie obeyed and was stunned to feel the wings obey her. Nesta and Gwyn were squealing in the background, Eris’s hand squeezing Nesta’s tightly. Emerie sobbed over and over again, thanking Nuan for the gift, and Nuan hugged her. “It’s no better than you deserve, Emerie.”

Later, when Emerie, Gwyn, and Eris had all left, Nesta and Lucien were left alone together.

“You’re not bad, for a Fae male,” Nesta said. Lucien laughed and shook his head. “A glowing recommendation. I’m going to tape that to my wall. Nesta Archeron said, and I quote, ‘you’re not bad.’” Nesta smiled. “You must be very well-connected, if you know a tinkerer like Nuan.”

Lucien shrugged. “As the youngest of seven sons, I wasn’t particularly needed or wanted. Perhaps it was a good thing. I was able to study for longer than my father allowed my brothers before shoving them out the door to rule over some territory within our lands, and I could train for as long as I liked, since no one believed I’d be dumb enough to kill my way up the long list of heirs. And when I grew bored with studying and fighting … I learned what I could of the land from its people. Learned about the people, too.” “That sounds far more High Lord-like than people like Beron or Rhysand ever will be.”

Lucien let Nesta see all the power simmering in his veins. “That’s why my brothers tried their very best to break and kill me.” Nesta smiled. “Perhaps you could take over the Spring Court from Tamlin. Or rule over Hybern. There’s a power gap there, isn’t there?”

Lucien nodded. “I don’t know you very well, but I can’t think of anyone more suited to rule,” Nesta said. Frank. Honest. “You’re not so bad yourself, Nesta Archeron.” They may not be friends just yet, but there was a budding relationship there. It hadn’t taken long for both to grow to respect the other immensely.

#nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #nesta x lucien #neris #the valkyries #emerie of illyria #emerie #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyneth berdara #nuan acotar #lucien x nuan #fanfic

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