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vampykween · 6 months

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Second Chances (part 1)

i wanted to write about singledad!ghost x teacher!reader (which is so self indulgent as im a teacher hehe) and thus this was born summary: little poppy is simon riley's entire world and you've just had yours turned completely upside down. despite everything, it seems like everything falls into place when you're with each other. this is going to be a little series - i already have a few drabbles written and have l more ideas up my sleeve, but feel free to let me know all of yall's ideas too!! dedicated to @suimon since you love my dad!ghost so much hehe mwah

Simon is just short of pulling his hair out. He’s spent all morning wrestling with a five-year old who, last night was bouncing off the walls excited about her first day of school, but now is inconsolable and quite frankly working his last nerve.

“Poppy, love, please just get dressed. We don’t have all morning for you to mess about.”

Poppy shrugs her shoulders and blows a raspberry right in her father’s face. “Let me go, I’m not going to school,” the five-year old squirms in her father’s grasp, less than thrilled at the prospect of getting dressed for school.

Simon briefly considers whether he should invest any more energy into their morning battle or if he should just concede and let his daughter win this round. Despite her protests, he keeps his hold on Poppy and tries his best to calm her down enough to reason with her. Sometimes Simon couldn’t believe this was his life, he was tussling with his daughter about getting ready for school, when in a past life all he was ever worried about was backing his team throughout a mission. He used to be a trained killer now the only thing he’s an expert at is making silly voices for all the book characters at bedtime.

“You were so excited about school just last night, what happened lovie, what’s going on with you?”

Poppy just stares at him with her big doe eyes, the ones that look exactly like her mother’s, and makes Simon’s chest ache painfully. It’s moments like these that make him feel like the grief would never end.

After a drawn-out minute, she finally squeaks out, “What if I don’t like school? What if people are mean to me?” Simon’s heart breaks at his little girl’s admission, he, of course, worried about those things too; he wasn’t sure he even wanted to send her off for hours every day, but he also knew that Poppy could handle it.

Simon grasps both of her much smaller hands, “You’re the best girl I know, what’s not to love yeah? I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends, sweetheart.” Simon isn’t sure who he’s reassuring more at this point, but he’ll say anything to get them both through this day and all the ones that come.

Poppy sighs loudly and by something short of a miracle, she concedes with getting dressed; Simon let her pick out her own outfit, in hopes that it would rekindle her previous excitement. It helped, but only marginally.

Standing in the doorway of the classroom, is not the teacher Simon had been expecting. When he thought of teachers, he imagined either super strict, uptight older women or bright and bubbly young women fresh out of university. You were neither of those – you wore a bright smile that reached your eyes, and your voice had the most warm and comforting lilt to it. Contrastingly, you were dressed head to toe in an all-black outfit, but it didn’t make you look dark and dreary, no, on you it worked quite well. Poppy finally, but reluctantly revealed herself from behind her father’s legs, and stepped forward to greet her new teacher.

“Hi! What’s your name?” you were clearly not from anywhere near, and Poppy immediately comments on it.

“My name is Poppy, like the flower, and you talk very funny.”

Simon groaned, “Poppy, that’s not very polite, love.”

“No, no it’s alright. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that this morning,” you laugh breezily, not affronted by the little girl’s observation. The sound of your laugh is like a mirage in a desert, and Simon is taken aback at how much the sound affected him. You crouch down and introduce yourself to Poppy, then rise to greet Simon as well. You hold out your hand, clearly in an attempt to shake his, and he shakes his head to clear his stupor and takes your hand. Your hands are much smaller than his own, and much softer, not calloused from battlefields and the hardships of life.

❀

You hope you’re coming off as a well put together adult, one who’s supposed to be in charge of people’s most precious gifts. Threatening to ruin your façade is the fact that you’re shaking hands with quite possibly the hottest man you’ve seen since you upturned your life and moved to London a few months ago. This is your student’s dad, jesus get a grip, you hastily remind yourself. You can’t help yourself though, and your eyes are roaming over his massive hands searching for a wedding band. You’re not sure whether it’s a good thing or not when you see there isn’t one. He’s hot, but he’s got a child, and you’ve just had your heart shattered into a million pieces this summer. The last thing you need is to be lusting after your student’s unreasonably hot father.

You’re not even sure you want to be here; nothing had gone the way you planned and now you’re a million miles away from your family – who had forewarned you that your ex maybe was not worth moving across the world for, but you were in love, you didn’t want to hear that.

Poppy, who seemingly gained some confidence, breezes past her father and finds her way easily into the classroom. You looked back up at her father, realizing you hadn’t caught his name – he tilts his head ever so slightly at you as if he’s trying to discreetly assess you and it makes your palms sweat.

“I didn’t catch your name, can’t call you Poppy’s dad all year now, can I?” you prod causally, laughing despite the stifling air that was forming between you two.

“You can call me Simon,” he replies elusively and suddenly you’re overcome with the feeling that there’s something mysterious about this man – and as attractive as he is, the revelation also makes you feel unnerved.

taglist: @happy-mushrooms @lunamoonbby

banners from @reveriesources and @cafekitsune pic creds: @ave661

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #dad!ghost #dad!simon #simon ghost riley fluff #oc: poppy #second chances au #mic writes

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in-act-ive · 10 months

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The Walking Dead x GN/NB!over stimulated!Reader

This is a two parter! As of right now the second one isn't out!

Request : nope

Type : headcanon

A / N : My tip is always headphones!! I also only did the characters im comfortable with writing about as of right now! If you need more tips always feel free to ask <33

Carl Grimes

He gets it

He also picks up on it really fast

If you're acting at all off he'll come up behind you and cover your ears to block out some of the noise

He likes it when you put your hands over his

If you look like your about to cry he'll take you away from the chaos and get you some place thats calm and you don't need to stress out anymore

He's probably picked up anything he thinks you can mess with while being over stimmed

One of those is definitely a stuffed animal

Carl definitely has had made excuses that embarrass himself just to help you get away

Rick Grimes

He has experience with it due to his son

He's horrible at picking up on it though

Most of the time you have to go up to him and tell him you're over stimulated by everything going on and he'll try his best to help you

Most of the time he'll send you off with Carol or Tara cause he wants to help but he's busy

When you have to be some place with him he has something in his pockets for you to mess with to distract yourself

Rick just tries to make sure you know he does care

When he does have the time he'll take you somewhere you can rest and will stay with you

Unless he gets pulled to work again

He wants to prioritize you, really

He's just a busy man

Daryl Dixon

He does not what he's doing

He just tries to ask you what you need

He picks up on it almost immediately

9 times out of 10 he goes and asks Carol or Rick what he should be doing

He probably just sends you to someone who knows what their doing unlike himself who is an idiot

He has a list of everything you've said / he's been told that helps

He keeps it on him at all times

He's pretty good about disappearing without anyone noticing so if he knows you need to be away from all the chaos he'll take you there

He won't exactly sit with you, he'll pace around instead

Like, he wants to be there for you, yes, and... He's not good with showing that

Abraham Ford

He knows exactly what he's doing

He's probably sat you down to ask what he can do to help you because he really does want to help

He makes sure to have something in his pockets to give to you to fiddle with when you need a distraction

Big hands = covering your ears

He'll run the back of his hand along yours to let him know he knows and is trying to figure out what you need

He picks up on it a bit slower than most but he does

Sometimes he needs Glenn or Tara to point it out to him so he knows for sure

He will get you away without saying a word to anyone else

If anyone asks he'll say " None of your damn business " and walk off with you

If you start crying he'll cup your face in his hands and whipe your tears away with his thumbs

Glenn Rhee

He's got this

He doesn't

He's trying though!

He picks up on it quickly though and lets anyone who he knows cat help you know

Abraham is his first option every time

He's probably the one to drag you away from a crowd and get you some place thats less stimulating then RUN for Abraham

He does want to help but he really doesn't know how

He's usually your second to last option so most of the time when you get to him you're already crying

He's good at comforting crying people

He'll get you some place safe and kiss your knuckles and use his sleeve to whipe yout tears

He's a sweetheart

He doesn't really understand whats going on but he wants to help none the less

He's probably asked you what happens and how you feel so he can imagine what you'd need

Shane Walsh

Bold of you to assume this man knows jack shit

In all fairness he knows some from dealing with Carl for most of the boys life

He's been nominated most likely to send you to anyone but himself

When he does have to help he kinda pats your back and tries to dig through his pockets to find something for you to fiddle with

He kinda seems irritated with you when you bother him about it

Eye rolls every time

He'll cover your ears if you ask nicely

On rare occasions he'll take you somewhere less stimulating

He'll leave you there

Aside from being rude 24/7 he will try and help if he has to

He just doesn't like being helpful

Negan

This man is so helpful

You still don't know why he's like that

Most of the time he picks up on it instantly and will try and help you best he can

He'll sit down with you in front of him facing him and he'll cover your hears, running this thumbs against anywhere they can reach

He likes it when you distract himself by playing with his hair

If you're lucky and you two are close enough he'll pull you into his lap

He'll get everyone to shut up and leave so you can be in a less stimulating environment

He's found and stolen a bunch of things you can mess with when you need too

He always focuses on your breathing, making sure its stable, always

He may act like an ass but he tries to tone it down

He knows how to help and will help anyway you want / need it

Gabriel Stokes

He knows the basic amount of things

Probably asked Rick for help on what to do lets be honest

He didn't want to ask you directly to seem inconsiderate

He tries to avoid you to not make it all worse

It makes it worse

Someone had to tell him that avoiding you made you feel horrible and he felt bad

The amount of times he apologized was exhausting for you

Hr tries to help out a lot better now even if he has no clue really what he's doing

He'll give you something to fiddle with and help you take deep breaths before running to find someone who knows how to help you better

He has stated he wants to help but doesn't know how to nor does he want to be the main person you rely on

Note: This was not spell checked nor grammer checked! I apologize in advance for the mistakes

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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months

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If you could indulge me, can I ask for something with The Amazing Digital Circus gang, with an s/o who is seen as an anchor for the others? They are strong willed, happy go lucky, supportive, a mediator and ect. Well, could they stumble upon their s/o just having an episode, just crying in frustration and like punching a wall to calm down and go back to acting like nothing happened?

I have a thing with strong willed characters hiding their weakness for the benefit of others.

TADC cast x emotional anchor!reader !

oh ho ho you silly lil fella, you have literally just described my TADC oc down to a T, i am going to have so much fun writing this because im literally just. going to use my oc as a place holder for the reader, just without describing any lore bits unique to them and their design ngl i think i went insane with this one, tally hall music is doing something to me

CAINE:

if you thought you were good at hiding your human despair just know that caine already knows. the only reason i feel he wouldnt initially come to you in your lesser moments of weakness is that he can acknowledge that youre trying to hide this part of you. does he go comfort you, and risk making you try harder to surpress your feelings; risking you to just blow up one day and have your mental state just totally collapse in one go? would you feel put off at the knowledge that in this world you never really have full privacy? that definitely wouldnt make you feel any better. but when it gets to the point where you're screaming and crying in your room and punching the walls he would step in. drags you away from the walls, and if he has to this man will restrain you if it means making sure you stop swinging. hes seen the downfall of many people within the circus, but seeing it from someone he so deeply cares for hits a different way. he may be an AI, but he can still simulate feeling. its a harrowing sensation as he lets you cling onto him. i think he makes an effort to make in house adventures less overwhelming and intense, too scared to push you over the edge but also too scared to leave you with nothing to do to distract you. i think he would stay with you for the night, too

POMNI:

as selfish as it sounds, pomni cant help but feel.. something in her chest. seeing you, the groups beacon of light falter fills her with some kind of fear and despair that she cant put into words. it reminds her that no one is above helplessness, and that at the end of the day youre just as capable of abstracting as everyone else. i think, when she finally sees your fake demeanor finally slip when you thought you were totally alone, she feels bad. i mean shes your partner, and she didnt pick up on any hints that may have indicated your true state of health. i dont think she would try to force you to speak, as much as i want to say that she would try to push for you to talk about how you feel i think her attempts to reach out to you would fall on deaf ears. i think she would put her hand on your shoulder, making you jump back to the present moment. its an awkward gesture, with the jester herself being a little lost with these new feelings... i think you two would just sit in silence

JAX:

similar to pomni, he feels this intense and unexplainable pang at the sight of the most hopeful and brightest person in the circus crumble. ive already said it but ill say it again, its like being splashed with cold water, with how hard that sinking cold feeling hits him. makes half hearted attempts to cheer you up. its not that he doesnt care, its that hes stuck in the shock of seeing the happiest person he knows flip into... this.. for a split second he thought you were abstracting, that pit his stomach becoming colder for a second before he realizes whats going on. ive said this before as well, but jax is not the best comforter, in fact i think he might be one of the worst out of the main cast. but i think so far for the characters ive written for this post, he makes an effort to try to pull you up out of your hole. at least he lets you cry your feelings out, and he wont make you feel bad for doing so

RAGATHA:

stands there in shock like pomni, before immediately rushing to your side and tugging you away from a coat stand you were kicking and beating. hands on your shoulders she tries to snap you back to the present moment, trying to tell you that shes here. any feelings of the helplessness that she shares with the previous two characters is shoved down. this isnt about her, its about you. runs her fingers through your hair, if your digital body has any, and just. rocks you. when you finally calm down enough to be able to form clear words, she reassures you once more that shes here for you. the two of you stay in that position, holding onto one another for the entire night. i think it should be said, but for most of these theyre going to try to keep a closer eye on you and make it a point to ask you how youre feeling. ragatha especially.

KINGER:

it reminds him of queenie. the sight brings back so so so many terrible memories. for a second he doesnt even register that hes standing in the present, standing in your doorway. stuck and frozen for a solid minute before you finally notice him, and you hold each others gaze. finally, you crumble. what was the point of hiding your mounting anguish now that it was discovered by the one you care for most? at the sight of your crumpled form i think kinger would snap back, and rush to your side. he's pause, afraid that you would abstract like the queen, before forcing himself to push through that fear in the back of his mind. a moment where he is not fumbling with himself or shaking; be it because he wants to be there for you or perhaps he still holds some guilt aimed towards himself for not being able to save his old queen, he refuses to leave your side even if you tell him to leave. theres this caution in his actions, mixed with this sort of determination to make sure you're okay. like ragatha, he would make it a point to make sure you're okay long after this incident

ZOOBLE:

zooble would probably be the only one who doesnt make their presence known to you while you're in that state. not because they wont care about you, in fact they care about you a lot. but theyre so unsure of what to do, that they give to you what they would have wanted for themselves, if they were in your shoes. they want to grant you privacy, and to at least keep a shred of the now ruined façade you had been putting on for everyone. if it means keeping it will give you comfort, then they wont take that away from you. they wait outside your door, waiting for the height of your episode to pass before cracking the door open. they dont say anything about what they had just heard, but you seem to know that they know.. i mean they came in so soon after you had calmed yourself down enough.

"are you okay?" a dumb question, but what else was there for them to say? you so obviously werent okay, and you likely werent for a long time. they offer to leave, to give you some time to pick yourself back up, but they also make it clear that they wont go anywhere if you dont want to be alone. the night is tense and awkward, filled with conversation before they eventually broach the topic... i think you guys would develop some sort of secret code. i mean youve been hiding your true feelings for so long, and outwardly saying you need help would compromise that mask you put up for yourself. be it a certain sentence or arrangement of objects, you two come up with a indirect way of asking for security

GANGLE:

she feels so helpless, the most out of everyone. she tries to get your attention, but her words fall on deaf ears, if they even manage to pry themselves out of her mouth. far too weak to pull you away and keep you from hurting yourself, but too soft spoken to bark out a word to draw your attention to her. truly, she feels useless. she isnt able to capture your attention until you finally notice her. similar to kingers part, you fall. she takes an unsure step towards you, hands half raised in front of her as she debates if you want to be touched or not. she settles to sitting in front of you, just barely holding eye contact... she looks down when you tear your eyes away from her. finally finding her voice, i think she would ask if you want her to stay, or if you need anything. she tries to word it the best she can, but she lets you know that she doesnt think any less of you for your outburst. it happens to the best of us, really it does. if you want her too, she wraps herself around you and tries to soothe your shaking form

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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bonefall · 5 months

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i know u dont rework arcs untill theyre complete but im very excited to see what you do with a starless clan, theres so much exciting things happening in this arc to work with. do you have any changes you already know for sure you’ll be incorporating?

No for-sures. I don't want to make any for-sures. I have ones I'm feeling but I don't want to call ANYTHING a for-sure yet. I need to find out what the ending is, WHERE this is all going, because I have a strong philosophy in my writing that a story is like a spear;

IT'S ALL ABOUT GETTING TO THE POINT.

But we are 4/6 of the way in, so I CAN start talking about thoughts!

I'm actually leaning pretty heavily towards axing Nightheart as a POV. There's still time for the books to turn around and justify it, BUT HEAR ME OUT

(Saying AS someone who is a Nightheart Enjoyer)

So far I'm really feeling that his character would benefit from us never being inside of his head, or seeing what he's been going through. As much as I WILL stand by that I enjoyed books 1 and 2 and liked his perspectives there, I'm starting to think that it would serve the story a lot better for Sunbeam and Frostpaw to be guessing just as much as we are.

We'd get introduced to Nightheart on the journey for catmint.

Sunbeam connects with him immediately, because she's tossed on this mission while she's in the middle of a swirling tide of drama. With nothing but Clerics and a hardened Rootspring to the left and her ex-bestie (exstie) to the right, he's really her only other choice for companionship. She's chronically unable to stop problems before they get out of hand, the sort of person who becomes frozen by indecision, and then here comes this Glorious Bastard

In her eyes, he's so caring, and bold, and fun! He's the first one to jump headlong into danger, to really be interested in her problems and just let her talk, and his story is so heartbreaking! A mother who's so hard on him... and his Clan is so mean all the time, but he wants to prove to all of them that he's more than just Firestar's descendant... but he was so brave to choose his own name.................

And then, when she follows him into ThunderClan, she learns he fucking lied. She changed Clans based on SOB STORIES

When she first comes, no one knows what he's been saying behind their back. Even if they did, they don't want to start trashing Nightheart right to his new mate's face. But then he LEAVES, and Sunbeam will bring up,

"Maybe it was because you were hard on him?"

And then Sparkpelt tries to agree, just to take blame onto herself and stop all this, but Finchlight's had eNOUGH and ends up setting the record straight;

"No this is DEFINITELY another tantrum. He already ran off once before."

"NO he didn't pick his own name, he stopped the whole ceremony to complain and Bramblestar gave him a compromise"

"MEAN to him?? I had to do HIS WORK because he couldn't STAY ON THE GROUND"

"Oh he's buckling under the weight of his legacy? that must be so hard. I was cat-fifteen when i punched my first fascist and he was wearing the face of my grandpa."

"His mom aba-WHAT?? ABANDONED???? OUR MOTHER WAS EXILED AND HE STAYED HOME!!!!! WE WERE CAT-FIFTEEN!!"

With this false hope shattered, Sunbeam is thrown into a devastating situation where... her mother was right. She was tricked. And now she's stuck in this new Clan without any of her old friends, without this mate who was too-good-to-be-true, the ONE impulsive choice she's made on her own in her WHOLE LIFE turns to ashes in her mouth. She can't go back, either, because Berryheart would NEVER let her live this down.

But... it's okay.

It's a slow shock, to make a choice SO impulsive and SO self-concerned, and find a safety net below her. It's going to be okay. The trials are fair. The cats of ThunderClan interrupt and speak over each other, but, that teaches her to be more assertive. Sparkpelt and Finchlight are not the mean assholes that Nightheart built them up to be, and they'll support her no matter what she chooses to do with her possible mate.

I want Nightheart TO get better, but, in order for that to happen, he has to face, and, more importantly, ACCEPT consequences. He needs to develop the maturity to say, "I acted like a brat and didn't appreciate what I had. and I'm sorry. you don't have to forgive me."

Bottom line being, Nightheart is striking me lately as a character that works best as unpredictable, because we have NO IDEA what's truly in his head. It would be interesting for him to have a novella later, but as it stands, his POV has consistently just been a duplicate since he joined ShadowClan. We gained NOTHING from splitting the Frostpaw Journey of the newest book in half POV, and VERY little from splitting the ShadowClan one into half POV.

I might reduce the POVs to 2, just Sunbeam and Frostpaw, or change Nightheart's to Lightleap. If I NEED 3 main characters, then they should all be a consistent camera on different parts of the conflict.

Again. I do not commit to changes until the arcs are done. Nothing in BB!ASC is set yet.

But here's some other little things I'm thinking,

Bramblestar is VOTED out.

He does not step down. The little "game" he played with Nightheart to create a situation to yell at Squilf, who hasn't been his mate in a long time in BB, was the LAST straw for ThunderClan.

They had sympathy for him before that point, because of what he went through with Ashfur, but his leadership was long and controversial even before the Impostor.

And there's a really strong sentiment that IF Bramblestar had been a good leader... they would have realized he was possessed sooner. So, there are those who partially blame him for the tyranny of the Impostor.

Basically; enough is enough.

Berryheart's hate group has ACTUAL consequences. Someone gets killed; probably Antfur, who survived the last arc to die here.

More fights. This arc has been too bloodless. Already planning SEVERAL sudden, random brawls in RiverClan as tensions boil.

Heartstar is going to be MORE controversial. Not controversial enough in canon imo. I don't like how Leaf and Squilf seem like they have "hypothetical" issues with the invasion instead of being able to point at REAL ones.

riverclan didn't forget how to do the chores they've done their WHOLE lives, no. I'm going to talk about POWER VACUUMS and create ACTUAL factions that begin to coagulate in RiverClan.

if we're going to have a brainless plot about how "Well Ackshually democracy has enough problems to make us reconsider not having unaccountable, tyrannical dictators, because a vote could maybe be called over One Single Issue" then I'll talk about shit like the spoiler effect, mob mentality, and factionalism. Get the hell out of my way ERIN I'll cook

No Smoky. Society has progressed past the need for Smoky. No Smokyng Area.

Whistlepaw should to try and take care of her ALONE, not trained enough to take care of SUCH bad wounds and barely able to keep her trembling paws straight, and Frostpaw realizes that she's making her watch her own friend die.

Is this how her life is going to end? slipping away under the paws of someone she loves, for what? pride? to do what her mother told her-- trust no cat?

As she TRUSTS Whistlepaw? Trusts her SO much, that Frostpaw will force her to be the only witness to her death?

FROSTPAW CALLS THE HUMAN

...which in BB, is a team of researchers. She drags herself to them, and collapses. This is why they just HAPPENED to have the proper equipment on them; they're WILDLIFE VETS.

Not sure how I'm going to handle Frostpaw's Journey though. In BB, the Park Cats are already a foundational part of Clan Culture.

In all honesty, while I HAVE to praise the fact that the Erins have FINALLY created ONE outsider group that isn't malicious or defenseless... I don't much care for them.

sending frostpaw on a side quest to what's essentially a big DOTC reference. Look! It's that group we introduced in the last 5 chapters of our latest glorified recap! cooool.

We're just going to get nothing but fucking founders in every dream from now on. I'm SURE of it.

As a consolation prize to myself though I will be writing cool angel scenes of the absolute BEING that Riverstar has become in heaven.

Riverstar (normal cat): "Elder Bones I'm going out!"

"not dressed like THAT you're not!!!"

Riverstar (the manifestation of the river, the rain in the sky above, and the abyss below, and how through water we are all truly connected as one being): "better?"

I will probably keep the Park Cats and rework them significantly, but I'm leaning pretty heavily towards Frostpaw visiting a LOT of places. A holy pilgrimage.

ESPECIALLY one of the Tribe's three wards; the River Ward. The Tribe of Rushing Water believes (it's even in the name) that water connects all things.

So I think it would be really fitting for Frostpaw to learn from MANY perspectives, starting with this philosophy put forth by the River Ward.

And she realizes-- that's what Riverstar is, as well. As a being. He is mentoring her on this pilgrimage, while barely saying a word. She can feel him wherever she is, because he isn't JUST the God of the River.

He is connection. He is peace. He's water. Too much and you'd drown, not enough and you'd thirst.

#BB!ASC #better bones au #Bone babble

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happy-beeeps · 9 months

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for the prompt list you just reblogged, what about "i didn't sign up for this" with either obi-wan kenobi or the bad batcher of your choice?

I’m on the run (with you my sweet love)

Pairing: obi-wan x reader

WC: 1.2k

Summary: after hearing that obi-wan is living in exile, you do your best to find him, determined to live out your lives together as you’d dreamed.

Suggested listening: Chemtrails over the country club by Lana Del Rey

A/N: IM SO BAD AT ANSWERING OH MY GOD. Thank you for the request I’m so excited!!! tbh, I struggled with this so hard because I physically cannot give Obi-Wan an angsty situation but we made it work hehehe. Obi-Wan is both my fav Star Wars man (which surprises people sometimes) and one of the characters I write the least, so this was SO fun! Sorry it’s so short, but I plan on writing much more for him soon!❤️🫶🥰

The house was small, really just a small kitchenette and living space with a bed nook off to the side. Like all houses in the dune sea, it was low in the ground, slatted windows up high on the walls to offer light with as little heat as possible. You wouldn’t call it nice by any means, not compared to what you’ve lived in before, but it had a certain coziness that had excited you. You had flushed out your credits just as soon as Bail had told you of Obi-Wan’s exile, and gotten yourself on the first ship to Mos Eisley that you could. The house had been easy enough to find, there were plenty of people in Mos Eisley eager to sell property to someone, particularly when that someone came with a sack of credits.

The hard part was finding Obi-Wan.

You spent the morning in the center of Mos Eisley, gathering supplies and what small furnishings you could transport for your new home, listening intently for anything. Any word of a newcomer, any whispers of the fall of the Jedi. Unfortunately (or fortunately) no one said anything.

Beru and Owen were the obvious next choice, and they came with much greater information than you had anticipated. You hadn’t met Anakin’s brother and sister-in-law before, but you had seen holos of them during your nights in with Padmé. Owen had been… reluctant to talk to you, but Beru had quickly pointed you in the direction of the cave Obi-Wan had been hiding out in the past few rotations, not terribly far from your home or the Larrs homestead.

Which is how you found yourself here, at the mouth of a cave, a fabric shawl draped carefully over your shoulders to protect as much of you as possible from the blazing Tatooine suns.

It was easy to walk into, and the dark walls and open space gave the whole space a chill in the air that hung itself uncomfortably around your shoulders. He wasn’t here, but there were signs of him present. A rucksack with some rations and credits, his robes and tunic–carefully folded in a pile resting on a large stone, and a small lamp. You ran your hands down the soft fabric of the robe, before picking it up and bringing it close to you. It smelled just like him, and for the first moment in what felt like a millenia, you let yourself ache in your chest. You had missed him something awful, worried something awful. When Padmé had explained what had happened, what he would have to do, you had feared the worst.

When none of them came back, you had all but accepted it.

“Don’t move.”

The voice that came from the cave mouth was cold and cautious, strong and intimidating. It was also home.

“Ben,” you whispered, using the nickname you had given him some night who knows how many moons ago, hoping to show him you were you. You were here.

You removed the shawl slowly as he stepped out of the mouth of the cave, his form no longer silhouetted against the blinding sun. His hair was looking slightly ragged, the tunic he wore now hung awkwardly on his frame–it must’ve been a loan from Owen you decided.

“Is it really you?” he asked, walking up to you cautiously, moving slowly as if you were made of mist that would simply vanish if he got too close. The sun had already begun to bring out even more freckles across his skin, growing ruddy with exposure.

“I’m here to take you home with me,” you murmured, closing the gap between the two of you and pulling him close to you, one hand cradling the back of his head while he pressed soft kisses into the crook of your neck.

“You can’t, I have to stay here. I can’t return to Coruscant with you.”

You pulled back for a moment, brushing the hair away from his face, “who said anything about Coruscant?” Before he could answer, you pressed your lips to his, capturing him in a kiss meant to soothe yourself and reassure him. He was alive. You were here. The rest you could figure out together.

* * *

You hadn’t said much on the walk back to your home, hadn’t been able to. Obi-Wan refused to let go of you, his hand lingering on a spot on your body at any moment. It was as if he was finally allowing himself these open, semi-public touches at last, though you knew the price of this freedom had been costly.

When you approached your home, you led him down to the living quarters and quickly worked at getting a small iced tea ready while he settled in. Well, attempted to settle.

“You bought this? Here?”

“You think I’d rent? In this economy?” You scoffed, and he gave you a lighthearted smile in return as you guided him towards the small sofa in the middle of the room. “I’ve only been here a few rotations, been looking for you,” you moved to settle beside him, knees clinking into one another with a familiarity you had been longing for. “You’re a hard man to find Master Kenobi.”

“I didn’t realize you’d be looking,” he reached over to place a hand on your cheek, steadying himself against you for a moment. It had taken you the better part of the afternoon to get from the cave to your home, and your living room was now painted in the orange and magenta hues of the setting suns, low light making him look even softer than you had imagined. “To be quite honest, I feared you’d assumed the worst.”

“Then you don’t know me at all.”

He pulled your head closer to him, bringing his forehead to yours in a sweet, intimate gesture. “I cannot put you in danger, I will not. You’re a senator, you cannot give up your life for me. You didn’t sign up for this.”

“I’m more than just a senator you know,” you breathed, your eyes fluttering open to look into his while his breath hitched in his throat, “as per that night on Chandrila, I’m your wife. You think I don’t want to be here? That I didn’t sign up for this? I said "till death”, Kenobi, and I meant it.”

“I couldn’t contact you, I’ve had to close myself off to the Force since arriving. I’ve lost so much. I cannot lose you dearest.”

You moved closer to him to bridge the gap between your mouths again, breathing a simple, “you’ll never have to,” as you did. This time you kissed him with the fervor and passion of a woman coming home, and he drank you in like a man lost in a desert. Which, you suppose he was. Here was your Obi-Wan, your Ben, wrapped in your arms and in your home for as long as you’d like. You were free to press yourself against his freckled chest and trace the starlight colored scars across his skin. You could live in the serendipitous bliss of him, his smell of caf and leather and something woody, the kind way he carried himself.

It had cost you both everything, had cost the Republic, but at last you were free to be Obi-Wan Kenobi’s wife in more than just secrecy, your sanctuary guarded by the twin suns of Tatooine.

#obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #star wars #obi wan kenobi #requests #obi wan #obi wan x y/n #obiwan

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slicznymartwy · 9 months

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Slashers reactions to walking in on the GN!Reader masturbating and moaning their name? If you don't take multiple character requests, though, I'd be happy with just Thomas! ^ _^

i LOVED this omg . this is my first thomas x reader i’m posting so i’m glad to start him off this way :3 seriously this was so much fun to write. only included thomas on this one since i made it longer than i planned :p .. maybe its too wordy and not smutty enough im sorry TToTT

°˖✧˚ thomas hewitt x gn!reader saying his name

eyes blinking open blearily, you wake up from your peaceful midday catnap with the feeling of a cool breeze sweeping in from the open windows. the curtains in the hewitt house are old and torn apart but, fluttering in the wind, it almost looked like you were at some fancy resort hotel.

smiling to yourself, you press your face against thomas’ pillow to breathe in his musky scent. if only he had joined you for your nap, then you two could have gotten into some real fun, but you know your man well; when he’s got a working itch in his fingers, he’ll be stuck down there in his basement ‘til he’s satisfied.

you don’t mind it, not when it makes him happy. it’s his passion that attracted you to him back when you two met. his dark determined eyes quickly clued you in - this was a man that acted, a man that took what he wanted and didn’t apologize.

you loved that about tommy, but right now you feel loose and happy like the partner of a rich man, and you want him. you want him so badly. heat stirs between your legs and you roll onto your back, listening acutely for any sounds.

the house is quiet except for the soft thuds managing to crawl up from the basement. keeping your willful ignorance about what he does down there, you instead focus on the fact that you two must have the place all to yourself today.

you sit up and pat your hair back down. it’s a little bit ruined from rubbing against the pillows, but you weren’t winning any beauty contest before that anyways. you feel more of the breeze when you sit up, and it brushes coyly across your bare chest. biting your lip with a smile, you use your sleep-sore muscles to haul a pillow down towards your hips and straddle it.

you start slow, hands bracing yourself forward as your hips rock back against the pillow. already, your breath comes heavier as you imagine your tommy. strong and thick all over, with enough muscles to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like he was wont to do when he craved you.

the pillow felt nowhere near sturdy enough, but you imagine grinding on his thigh like this, feeling his muscles flex underneath you as he watched. you close your eyes as you pretend, mind swimming with pictures of your big and capable man.

“tommy,” you whisper, picking up your pace as your body reacted to the pleasure you gave yourself. you were relaxed before, but you feel boneless now, like you were made of melted candle wax.

time loses some meaning in your deliriously horny brain. you can barely think beyond the soft cushion between your thighs as you hump against it in a steady rhythm.

you feel like you're floating out of your body: you can recognize your own voice, but you don’t know when you started chanting tommy’s name, and you can hear your orgasm building as your voice gets louder. despite knowing he can't hear you, you're begging him for mercy.

you’re nearly finished when the hairs on the back of your neck suddenly stand. there’s something different in the air, although you can’t pinpoint what, and you open your eyes.

“tommy!” you gasp, because there he stands. his arms hang by his sides as he watches with hauntingly dark eyes.

you feel like he can see straight through you with his gaze, and your hips stop as you cover yourself with your hands. it’s a little bit pointless, since thomas has already seen every inch of you. he’s had you bent over and folded in half so many times that you’re sure he’s got you memorized.

your chest rises and falls visibly as you try to catch your breath, but that seems impossible as he slowly steps into the room. he lumbers forward, his eyes never leaving you.

it's clear that he's just come up from his basement, the way his clothes and apron are stained. he must have heard you, you realize. your cheeks feel red hot at the notion of you hollering his name so loud that he had to come check on you.

he stands in front of you, head ducked down to keep his gaze locked onto your eyes. you feel frozen to the spot, until thomas’ hands reach behind his back to untie his apron. inspired, you hurry to get the pillow out from under you and back to the others, turning away from him while you did. what use was the limp pillow when you had the real thing right in front of you?

you hear thomas toss the apron aside, and you gasp when you feel his warm hand on your ankle. he pulls you down to the foot of the bed easily, sliding on your stomach over the messy sheets.

"thomas," you breathe, looking at him from over your shoulder. he's so massive as he stands over you, but when he puts his heavy hand between your shoulder blades, you get a sense for his gentleness too. you've seen his hands cause so much destruction, but that felt like a different person to the man standing in your shared room.

he doesn't speak, but you don't need him to. he's always proved his adoration to you with his actions. he does the same for his family too, the callouses on his hands prove how hard he works to make them happy. you can feel them scratch pleasantly against your skin as he strokes his hand down your back, until he holds onto your hips with both hands.

"i love you," you say, feeling him press the front of his clothed hips against your ass. he spends the rest of the afternoon showing you how he feels the same.

#thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x gn!reader #slasher x reader #the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #tcm the beginning #₊*. ⋆༘ — requests

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atlabeth · 10 months

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here with me - george karim

request from @iloveyousomuchhhhhh

summary: ghost-hunting isn't the easiest occupation in the world. it helps when you've got someone like george in your corner.

a/n: thank you for this request, it was very cute and i loved my first delve into george, especially writing completely in his pov!

im not an expert on anxiety but i based the reader's anxiety and panic attack on my experience with them; not everyone experiences them the same way so keep that in mind. thank you again for the request and i hope you enjoy<3 shoutout to my restless reader characters you guys are struggling

wc: 3k

warning(s): reader has anxiety, reader has a small panic attack, emotional hurt/comfort, fluffy ending

You were a restless person.

It was the first thing George noticed when he guided you into the living room and watched you settle into the cushions. Your leg almost instantly started bobbing up and down, and he could feel the vibrations through the wooden floor. He gave a small nod to Lockwood before he walked off.

Restless wasn’t necessarily bad, he thought as he stood in the kitchen, watching the kettle and waiting for it to boil. Restless meant more time to be productive, more time to go over plans, more time to spend in the archives. There was always more time to be spent in the archives.

Restless also wasn’t necessarily good, he thought with another glance at Lockwood. He was already plying you with easy smiles and kind words, and George wondered how long it would be until you ran off screaming like the last few girls. Restless meant absolutely zero patience, a blatant disregard for his pleas of a little more time, a penchant for getting into trouble.

Well. It wasn’t exactly like he was a stranger to those things, working with Lockwood. George just didn’t know if he would be able to handle another one.

George walked back into the room with a tray of tea, about to announce himself, when Lockwood shot him a warning look. You were sitting there with your eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, as you held Lockwood’s watch in your hands. George stood there, watching you in all your focus, when suddenly your eyes flew open and you practically threw the watch back to the table.

“I’m sorry for that,” you breathed, “but absolutely nobody should have that thing near them. It almost hurts to go further with it.”

Lockwood’s lips twitched. George chuckled.

“Tea?” George asked, and your whole body flinched as your head whipped around to him.

“Yes, please.” The words rushed out of your mouth, as if you were afraid to use up more time than needed. He handed you a cup that you accepted gratefully.

“Pitkin’s best,” he said.

Your leg had stopped bouncing up and down with such ferocity, George noticed.

He smiled.

“Well, that’s a good sign,” Lockwood continued, picking up the watch with a slight glance and an even slighter smile at George. “You see, that was my watch…”

Lockwood’s words trailed off in his ears as George continued to watch you. How you shifted every few seconds, trying to get comfortable like it was a fruitless task. How you latched onto every word Lockwood said with ferocious attentiveness, as if you were scared of what would happen if you missed a single syllable. Your eyes flicked over to George for the shortest moment, but it was enough for him to realize he’d been staring.

He cleared his throat and set the tray down on the table, settling down in his seat. He’d meant to take his armchair as usual, be judgmental as usual, say something clever to Lockwood when you turned out to not be the right fit as usual.

But instead, George stayed silent.

And he watched.

George ran into you the next morning—a slight exaggeration, calling it morning, seeing as it was four in the morning—and it was hardly planned. He’d woken up with cotton in his mouth, and on his noble voyage for a glass of water, that was when he nearly ran into you.

“Oh, god—” the words rushed out of your mouth, an already placating hand flying up as you put distance in between the two of you— “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even notice you.”

George squinted, nudging his glasses back up with the tip of his finger. “What are you doing up?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you explained with a gesture back at the table. George noticed the binder, the folder, the scattered papers. “I thought I would make sure I was ready.”

“...You’re reading through our notes,” he said slowly, “again.”

“It never hurts to be prepared,” you said.

George huffed. “I’d say we’re quite prepared. This is one of the rare times I’ve been able to get Lockwood to slow down.” He shrugged. “I suppose I have you to thank for that, since you’re quite new. He doesn’t want to lose an agent he just got.”

Your eyes widened slightly. “I don’t plan on being lost.”

He made an off-handed gesture. “Don’t take anything I say too seriously. I’m still waking up.”

“Ah.” You stared at him for a moment before you seemed to snap out of it, and you cleared your throat. “I was just going up to get my coat. It’s a bit drafty in here.”

“I’d recommend you go to sleep instead,” George said. “You’re bright, and I’d like you to stay that way for the job tomorrow.” He frowned. “Today, rather.”

“I just like going over everything until I know I can’t forget it,” you said. “It eases my mind.”

“I’m pretty sure you know it by now.”

“I am as well,” you agreed, “but you never really know what you know until you’re staring a ghost down point blank, do you?”

The smallest of smiles formed against his will. “You aren’t helping your case.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Really?”

“Really,” he agreed. “We don’t need the entire agency sleep-deprived tomorrow.”

“The entire agency?”

“Lockwood does not sleep,” George said. “I think he came out of the womb with dark circles.”

You chuckled, and you nodded after a moment. “Alright. I’ll turn in just for you.”

“It’s an honor,” he said.

He meant to be facetious, but he found he meant it more than he realized. George watched you go, up the stairs and into the attic, and it took the sound of the door closing for him to snap out of it.

He blinked, shaking his head as he went back to his own room. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat to an audience of no one but himself that he realized he never even got that glass of water.

“Does Lockwood spend much time in the archives?” you asked.

You were trying to make pleasant enough small talk to fill in the silence on your walk over—George appreciated the concept, but not so much the reality.

“He’s not one for details,” George said. “He can’t charm his way through articles.”

You chuckled, and George smiled. He felt a strange swell of pride every time he managed to make you laugh, or really just happy in any kind of way.

“It’s the reason he got me from Fittes,” he continued. “Lockwood can fence his way out of a box, but sometimes it’s like he’d rather die than wait a few more days so I can make sure we’ve got enough information.”

“Well, you’ve got another member on your team,” you said with a slight smile of your own. “I’m not very good with talking to people. He can stick to that—I’d much rather be in the archives with you.”

George felt his cheeks heat the slightest bit. He looked over at you, once again finding himself studying your features, and his eyes darted away the second you looked back at him.

“Welcome to the team,” he finally settled on. George found he meant it wholly.

George Karim prides himself on noticing things.

He is, after all, a researcher above all else. He’s able to find breaks in cases Lockwood could never dream of. He was able to get one up on Fittes kids all the time without even trying. He was, henceforth, very easily able to notice when his higher-ups were getting annoyed with his questions and poking around, and happily allowed himself to be ‘stolen’ from the company by Anthony Lockwood.

And George Karim, as someone who prided himself on noticing things, noticed you an awful lot.

He noticed that, whenever they got Arif’s, you waited until he and Lockwood had gotten their first pick before you took your own.

He noticed that your favorite kind of gum to chew on jobs was the strongest spearmint available, and though you hated cinnamon mints, you pretended to love them just to put Lockwood up in arms.

He noticed that you preferred to lace up your left boot before your right, no matter what. George was sure you all could have been on the run from a dozen Type Twos and you would still take the time for the specifics.

He noticed that you doubted every single thing you did, questioned yourself whenever possible, and always let George take the lead whenever the two of you ended up researching together.

There was one time in the archives, on the most frustrating case he’d had in a while when George felt like he could have pulled all his hair out in pure annoyance. You then offered up what turned out to be a crucial bit of information, something that led them down the path to solving it—you’d found it an hour earlier, but you were so unsure about actually being right that you held it back until you had triple checked it.

George made sure that from then on, whenever you two were researching together, you would share whatever you found immediately.

(“You’re valuable,” he’d scoffed, “almost as much a genius in here as I am. So don’t hold anything back.

He wouldn’t forget the smile you graced him with for a long time.)

George noticed more and more about you the more the three of you worked together, even more so when you went to the archives together while Lockwood worked the field, or went off with each other to pick up groceries while Lockwood met with clients, or any time when it was just the two of you.

Lockwood enjoyed leaving George with you, for some strange reason. Maybe he thought you would drive him crazy, with your almost neurotic double and triple-checking of everything and excessive need for cleanliness. The joke was on Lockwood, though—George rather enjoyed your company.

You were pleasant, quiet, intelligent, and you were willing to work with him. George actually quite liked you. What more could he need in a colleague?

So when George heard quite a large crash coming from the attic, he took it upon himself to investigate. He figured he at least owed it to you, what with how much you’d been helping him lately in the archives. Your small marks on the Thinking Cloth in defense of him in the midst of his and Lockwood’s scribbled squabble were another point in your favor, as well as the fact that whenever things went wrong in your vicinity, you were prone to stubborn insistence that you figure it out on your own without any help.

He thought it was ridiculous—even more so that both you and Lockwood shared that trait. What was the damn point of working in an agency if you weren’t going to accept help from your colleagues?

So when he got to the top of the stairs, he knocked on the door to the attic and called out your name. “Is everything alright?”

There was no response. George pressed his ear against the door, and he could hear heavy breathing. He didn’t consider himself much of an expert on breathing, but it was obviously yours—you sounded as if you’d just run a marathon.

He frowned as he knocked again and said your name again. When there was yet again no response, he sighed.

“I hope you’re decent,” he said, “because I’m coming in.”

There was no immediate protest, so George cracked open the door and peered in. You were in fact decent, much to his relief, but that was about the only good thing.

You were sitting against your dresser, back pressed flat against the wood. It wasn’t exactly what he’d expected to find—you, hyperventilating, eyes rimmed red with visible tear tracks down your cheeks, and a few fallen books on the floor across from you.

But George didn’t panic, only stared at you for a moment before he moved into action. He was no stranger to all of this.

He knelt down across from you and looked you right in the eye, saying your name. “Do you want me to stay?”

You nodded shakily, and he mirrored the action. “Can you speak?”

“A— a bit,” you managed through heaved breaths.

He nodded again. “Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

You nodded again. You seemed to be calming down just the slightest amount, if only because someone else was with you. He would take whatever he could get.

George slowly let out all the air in his lungs, keeping eye contact with you the entire time as you followed along with him. Then he breathed in, counting the four seconds on his fingers for you, and held it for eight and let it out for seven doing the same.

“That’s it,” he said. “You’re doing great.”

You screwed your eyes shut, a hand reaching out blindly, and without fully thinking, George took it. His breath caught for a split second as your fingers tightened around his, then he just swallowed as he squeezed back.

“It’s alright,” George murmured. “I’m here with you. I’ve got you.”

You continued to breathe the way he showed you, holding onto George’s hand while he murmured reassurances to get you through it. Eventually, the haggard breathing ceased, your vice-like grip on his hand loosened, and the storm had been weathered.

“Are you alright?” George asked quietly. “Well— better than before?”

You nodded yet again, and you used your free hand to wipe away drying tear tracks on your cheeks. “Yeah. I— I’m better.”

“Good.”

“I’m sorry,” you rasped.

He frowned. “For what?”

“For this,” you mumbled, and you pulled your hand away. “I know you didn’t sign up to deal with this—”

George reached for your hand again, lacing his fingers with yours, and you stopped as your gaze met his.

“No need to apologize,” he said. “You’re part of the team, remember? I’ve got your back.”

You nodded a few times, that smile he’d come to appreciate slowly coming back. “Right. Thank you, George.”

“Of course,” he said. “We deal with ghosts every day. I’m… no stranger to panic attacks.”

Something in your eyes changed, and your throat bobbed. “It… it was because of the ghost. From today.”

“I figured,” he murmured.

“It hit a bit too close to home,” you said wryly, “the way they died and all. And it didn’t help that you nearly got ghost-touched.”

That gave him pause. “It was because of me?”

You shrugged, glancing away again. “It would honestly be better if I hated you all. I wouldn’t get so scared every time something went wrong. Which—” you huffed a laugh— “with us, is practically every case.”

George still couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it. Apparently, his silence was a sign, because you sighed.

“I keep seeing it, George,” you said, voice slightly strained. “I keep seeing you and that damned ghost, except when I try to sleep, Lockwood isn’t there with his rapier to save you.”

He couldn’t help but look into your eyes then, really see you. How could he not, when you said things like that?

“I’m here,” he said softly, holding up your intertwined hands. “Flesh and bone.” He moved your hands to his heart. “Still beating.”

“Still beating,” you repeated in a whisper.

And the two of you remained like that for a touch longer than would be considered normal, but George didn’t want to let go. There was something about you, there had always been something about you, that made him not want to let go.

“Do you want to come to my room?” he asked, and it took a beat for him to realize how sudden it was. “Not— not like that, I swear. I just—” George laughed nervously as he let your hands fall back down— “I figure you don’t really want to be alone right now.”

“You figured right.” You glanced around your room and shivered. “The buzz of the ghost lamps really starts to get to you after a while.”

George chuckled, and he helped you up. Your hands remained intertwined as you went out the room, down the stairs, and into his own. He felt a bit ashamed at the clutter, but you didn’t seem bothered.

“My bed’s quite comfy,” he said, shifting a bit as he stared at it. “It should be good for the both of us.” The burst of confidence that guided him from your room to his seemed to have faded, leaving him holding hands with a girl and not much idea of where to go from there.

And again, you didn’t seem to care. “Thank you for doing this,” you said. “I— I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t think I could have gotten through the night alone.” You paused. “I don’t think I could have gotten through that alone.”

“I told you,” George said, “you’re part of the team. We’ll always be here for you.”

You smiled, and George understood why poetry was written.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he added.

“And I’ll always be here for you,” you said. “As long as you’ll have me.”

“Barring our deaths, I think we’ll have you around for a while,” George said. He cleared his throat. “Apologies. That’s not very funny after this afternoon.”

You laughed, and you tugged George towards the bed. You pulled your knee up to your chest when you sat down. “You can joke about it all you want as long as it stays a joke.”

George smiled. “Got it.”

The two of you settled into his bed, backs facing each other and him staring at the wall. George had never paid so much attention to his breathing, but he found that when he was around you lately, he’d been paying attention to everything.

(George should have known the moment he considered asking Lockwood for advice that he was too far gone.)

“George,” you said, breaking the silence. He’d never thought his name could sound so pleasant. “Thank you again. For all of this.”

“Any time,” he said. He meant it with all his heart.

And with your body warmth so close to him, the extra weight on the mattress, your soft breathing in even intervals, George fell asleep faster than ever.

#me when im george and im oblivious “lockwood left us alone bc he thinks she'll annoy me lol jokes on him bc i like her” idiot #matchmaker lockwood is special to me #george karim x reader #george karim x you #lockwood & co x reader #lockwood and co x reader #george karim #x reader #reader insert #sadie writes

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sansxreaderbraindump · 3 months

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Stored Away Headcanon pt 1

If the Sans's found out about your old fanfiction and drawings UNDERSWAP! SANS He found out by finding a certain shoe box in your room, at first he thought "wowie new shoes!" but what he opened instead was slightly crumpled papers. He was a bit disappointed of not getting shoes but was curious on what was written on the mysterious papers. "A LITTLE READING SHOULDN'T HURT" oh boy he didn't know what he was going into. he saw his own nickname with "x [name]" he was ecstatic to see his very own fanfiction about him and you, but when he starting reading the romantic parts of you and him dating. He couldn't help but swoon at the drawings and dating scenarios between you and him, it could have some rewriting but overall he loves it. he was giggling and kicking his feet when your character kissed him! (he had to set it down to hide his flustered face and giggles) * WOWIE I DIDNT KNOW THE HUMAN HAD SUCH PASSIONATE LOVE FOR ME! I SHOULD TAKE THEM ON A DATE!! While he was reading the 2016 fanfiction, you rushed in and to your horror you see Swap reading your old fanfics. Quickly, You snatched the papers and fanart away from him. You screeched as quiet as you can, questioning Swap. "Why are you in my room!" * I WAS TRYING TO FIND YOU! BUT YOU WERENT IN YOUR DOMAIN BUT I WAS CAPTIVATED BY THIS BOX! "HOW MUCH DID YOU READ!?" * EVERYTHING!! AND HUMAN I MUST SAY, I DIDNT KNOW YOU HAD SUCH STRONG FEELINGS FOR ME!! CAN'T SAY I BLAME YOU" Your world shattered and you crumpled into the floor, groveling into your self loathing and embarrassment with the papers spread out on the floor. You felt like your going to die any second now, you don't wanna even look at him therefore you tug your hoodie strings to hide your face, muffling a question to Swap. "Are you disgusted with me?" * DISGUSTED!?!? Swap immediate lift you by the arm pits and proudly stated. * HUMAN TO THINK YOU WOULD WRONGLY GUESS ME, THE MAGNIFICENT SANS BE DISGUSTED BY THESE PASSIONATE AND GENUINE WRITING!! AND I MUST PROCLAIM THAT THIS LOVE SHALL NOT BE UNREWARDED!! * HUMAN HOW WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO ON A DATE WITH ME AND THE OTHER ME'S? TO MAKE THINGS FAIR. "wait wut." Swap set you onto your feet to pick up your fallen fanfiction, You open your hoodie cocoon in disbelief You didn't know how to react to his statement. While you were trying to collect your mind, swap noticed there were other more fanfiction for his other "me's"! * IT SEEMS LIKE YOU HAVE MORE OF THESE LOVE LETTER FOR MY OTHER SELF'S. * WE SHOULD SHOW THEM YOUR LOVE! "WAIT WAIT WAIT NONONONO!" You try to plead with Swap but he's already out of the room. "well that's it I'm going to kill myself :/" Extras - Swap will always take care of your love letters and fanfiction. will guard it with his life. - When it is night time US! sans will always reread the fanfics. 100% will giggle like a schoolgirl because he loves it so much!

DUSTTALE! SANS - At first, he didn't believe it when Swap told him about the fanfiction that was once he was when swap showed him the papers in his face. - You in the meanwhile, finally got the energy to chase down swap but it was too late. Dust was reading it, you wanted to die all over again right now. You try to ask for him to hand it back to you, but your pleads fell silent to a murmur instead. - you went back to groveling in your self loathing and embarrassment again. all he did was silently read your 2016 fanfiction, you can't see what expression he was wearing by his hood and was uncomfortable by how silent he was. You thought about the negative reaction he was going to show but he didn't.... - instead he carefully fold the papers with care and silently stored it in his hoodie pocket and then gone back to what he was doing before.

".....huh?" *SEE, HUMAN! I KNEW HE WAS GOING TO LOVE IT! (alr im going leave it off here. i will make a pt2 with fell, horror, and snas headcanon reaction later so yea hope u like this one :p)

#sans x reader #sans au x reader #undertale x reader #stored away is a story idea i made a post about so go read about it to not be confused #sorry if there is word promblems or not good writing. im a noob writer :/

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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year

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solanum dulcamara | r. itoshi

★ tags ; aged-up characters (rin and reader are in their 20's), age-gap (reader is older but there's no specifics), sub!itoshi rin, fem + afab!dom!reader, dacryphilia, established relationships and dom/sub dynamics, edging, overstimulation, subspace (rin falls head first), mommy kink, praise, teasing (reader is a bit mean), petnames for rin (spoiled little boy, sweet boy, good boy, sweetie etc.), riding, unprotected sex, face-sitting, cum-eating aftercare, 18+

★ wc ; 5.7k (frowns)

★ a/n ; ive done something bad to my brain </3 he is so baby boy.... i've gone and made myself sick just thinking about it.

i just want to clarify that this version of rin is only really accessible thru a lot of established trust and persistence. reader is incredibly attentive to him and they have a very establish bond both romantically and in a d/s dynamic. im not super confident abt his characterization but i tried to still make it feel like Him.

★ synopsis ; rin is so pretty when he cries.

The T.V. is on in the background. It's the interview you filmed a month ago, per the request of your boyfriends P.R.

"Another question from our viewers, what's your usual type in men?"

"Ah, is that okay to ask?" You reply sheepish. The interviewer waves his hand in dismissal of your concern.

"Asking when I'm already taken, so cruel. Mm, I like men who cry easily."

"Ehh? You're going to make your boyfriend sad!"

"It's fine, it's fine. He's special so it's okay."

Before Rin can watch anymore, you pick the remote up and click it off. You've just come out of a shower, towel hanging off the back of your neck. Water drips down your skin despite having dried off. The vague scent of fruit hits him as he blinks back at you. You bend forward in front of him.

"Hi." You greet, smiling. Your eyes have a particular shine to them that sends a signal of warning through RIn's body. It's been there since before you started dating. It's persisted all throughout your relationship. He never gets used to it.

He stares back at you "Hi."

You cock your head then laugh.

"Why'd you turn the T.V. off?" He asks. You shrug, sitting next to him with your feet up on the coffee table, stretching slightly.

"Hearing my own voice feels weird."

You scrunch your nose in displeasure. When Rin sees you like this - cozy and comfortable, he can't help but be extra conscious of the air you seem to hold. Innocent isn't the right word. Simplistic might be better. There's nothing malicious about you, usually.

Even knowing that, heat curls into his body. The hairs stand on his neck. He knows almost intuitively what's coming.

"Aw, did you wanna watch my interview, Rinnie? How sweet."

He scowls at the name of endearment, then lies through his teeth.

"No." He says simply. You coo under your breath like you would a misbehaving cat. Before he can move away, your hand reaches the opposite side of his face, fingers trailing his jaw until he faces towards you.

"Liar." You say, and it's there again and Rin can feel it. It takes effort not to turn away. Not to stand to his feet and go run laps.

Rin knows, objectively, he's so much faster than you. But, some part of him is convinced he could never outrun you. You'd pin him down somehow, he's sure of it. Swift and easy. You'd wait till he was tired out and strike after—smile down at him in satisfaction towards the end.

That's just how you are. Rin doesn't dislike it.

Your fingers splay to cup his face, your thumb rubbing against his lower lip. Familiar gestures and touches don't ease his nerves. You admire him openly. Rin feels like the Earth is going to swallow him whole. He's not unused to being fawned at. He got confessed to all the time in high school but it never caught his interest.

Dating seemed pointless. Lukewarm. The first time Rin told this to you, instead of a hurt reaction like he'd gotten from other girls interested in him, you laughed. Quietly to yourself, remaining impassive.

Amused. A mirth to your eyes. Like you've stumbled upon a puzzle yet to solve. A predator with interesting prey.

("Being lukewarm is better than freezing." )

Itoshi Rin thinks you are a strange, strange person. He thinks you have strange tastes. He thinks you are strange company and that your smile is too disarming. He thinks it's strange that everyone is convinced you're nice and well-meaning when he knows you are. You are but you're not.

You are nice. Kind is a better word. Warm and forgiving and tender. You're like that even like this, when being around you feels like being thrown into the snakes den. If Rin doesn't pay attention, he's sure he'll get eaten completely.

But he lowers his guard anyway. Being devoured and being desired are the same sensation, he finds.

"Rin," You offer, an inch away from kissing him. He swallows a thick sensation in the back of his throat. He feels jumpy. "Did I make you sad, hm?"

'No." He insists.

"Really?" You grin at him. You smell sweet "But it's true, you know? I like when men cry in front of me."

A shiver wracks through him.

"Don't talk about other men in front of me." He says lamely. It's all he can say. You laugh, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry, sorry. Then what should I say instead?" You look thoughtful as you kiss him. Rin lets you. He trusts you enough to let you kiss his face all over in this overly doting way "Rin, when was the last time you cried?"

"I don't remember." He says. It's a lie. Probably after Sae came back, he should answer.

"Liar. Bad boy, you shouldn't lie to your girlfriend. Are you embarrassed about crying?"

"No."

"Lie again, and I'll punish you." You tsk, then kiss him slow. On the lips this time. In that deep mesmerizing way that makes the insides of Rin's stomach feel like honey over flame. He gets jealous thinking about where you learned it all from. He knows your older and more experienced and that you love him despite all that, but he's jealous anyways.

If you could hear it, you'd call Rin spoiled with that same amusement you always regard him with.

"Rin," There's a little more urgency in your voice this time. It satisifes a part of Rin he doesn't know intimately. He didn't think it was there before he met you "I want to make you cry."

"Why?"

"I like seeing you like that." You tell him honestly "I like it so much when you look like that. Of course I feel bad too, but."

"Why the hell would you like that?" He asks, voice raspy with less anger than he would hope for. You invite yourself into his lap. Rin doesn't stop you. Your arms around his neck feel like a choker but there's something so comforting about the feeling of being suffocated.

You let your hands cup the nape of his neck, the other hand brushing his skin. Knuckles along his cheek with nothing but affection. You smile.

"When you look helpless and needy like that, I want you to depend on me." You say sweetly, so saccharine it makes Rin nauseous. "When you look sad and lonely, I want to comfort you so I can keep you all to myself."

"...Were you like this with your other boyfriends?"

"Mm, would you be sad if I said yes? But I didn't like any of them, y'know? They just came onto me because they liked being bullied."

He gives you a look of displeasure that makes you laugh.

"I only like you," You assure, your tone shifting again. Still familiar. The kind, gentle version of you seeping in through the cracks "I love you most of all. Only you."

"Stop that." He tucks his chin because he can't look up at you. You grin widely "You're weird."

You pull him towards you, hugging him tight.

"My Rin is the best in the world, hm?"

He thinks you're bad for him, in some ways. Good in more ways too. This kind of feeling, he isn't sure where it falls on the scale. It feels good, at least. Makes his head feel heavy with something even though all of his hairs stand on end. There's resistance before there's desire to succumb.

"Weird." He mutters, unable to stop himself from slipping into you.

"I wanna make you cry so I can wipe your tears off your face. I'll bet you're so pretty."

"You say stuff like that so easily it scares me."

"Don't be scared. It's all because I love you, okay? I love you sooo much."

He clicks his teeth "You're pushing it."

"Because I know you'll forgive me. Now, take off your clothes and tell me your colors."

"Red for stop, green for go, yellow for slow down." Rin says on automatic before blushing.

"There you go." You reply, pleased with yourself.

Ultimately, Rin listens. You're right in your assessment. He'll always forgive you no matter the circumstance. Despite himself and all the warnings - he'll listen to you obediently. You help Rin take off his clothes. Manicured fingers drag up the sides of his body, along the anterior muscles of his abdomen.

His shirt comes first. When it's off , you stare at him long and hard. Tilting his head back, you press a kiss to his Adam's apple before your fingers tug on his nipples. He lets out a sharp noise that makes you hum against his skin, throaty and pleased. He can feel your teeth on his neck and the warmth of your cunt against his jeans even through all the thick layers of fabric.

"They're always so sensitive," You say, running your thumb over them "Such a pretty color."

"Stop talking." He hisses, throwing his head back. You giggle at him.

His cock twitches at the sharp sensation. You latch yourself to the column of his throat - a familiar bruising throb making his whole body ache. Kissing and licking and biting every visible inch of his body while your free hand plays with his chest.

The roles should be reversed here, he's sure, but he can't remember a time they ever were. At least properly, with Rin initiating of his own volition. Not just being permitted by you to do so, but actually doing it all on his own.

He stifles a groan, hand cupped over his mouth as you pleasure his body. You play him like a well-tuned machine. A practiced handler for all of his more delicate parts and functions.

The blood rushing to his cock makes him light headed. The motions are well-practiced ones. You know just the right way to tease the hardened buds under the pads of your fingers, how to pinch with the tips of your nails until it's unbearable . The soft drags of your fingers, nails scratching the skin until it's red and raised. He's always been pale. White, milky skin that blooms into different shades of bruise. Colors you like, anyway.

You make a show of undoing his belt buckle. The noise is so audible, the soft clack of metal echoes as it gets undone. Unzipping his jeans, you cup your palm around his semi-hard cock and squeeze tight like you're holding his hand. He shudders, only saved by the thin material of his boxers.

You let your thumb trace under the head, still through the black cotton. You press it into the sticky tip, rubbing small circles with a gleeful giggle. He huffs. Making the mistake of looking at you directly sends him into a frenzy. Your expression is vulgar when you peer at him - lips tucked between your teeth and eyes full of hot white desire. Rin can feel how much you want this. How much you want him. You express it openly.

(He wants it just as bad. Maybe worse.)

You hook your finger into the edge of his boxers, peeking inside.

"Your cock is so pretty," Your sincerity sends electricity through his spine. He chokes "So cute."

"Don't talk about it like that."

"It's cute to me though?" You say, a horrifyingly genuine assessment as you push the fabric down enough to sit under his balls - leaving him exposed and stood up to attention. You wrap a hand around the shaft, leaning in to bite his earlobe "It's cute when it gets red like that. Your ears get red like that too."

Rin watches you with his eyes blown wide as you lift your fingers to your mouth, dragging your tongue along the middle and ring. You fuck them into your mouth slowly, until saliva drips down on them and the act is so salacious he thinks his heart is going to give. When they're nice and wet, you wrap them around the base.

The sensation makes his body clench. A suddenly warm and slick feeling surrounds him. You're good with your hands. Too good, actually. The exact pressure and speed without having to try - this isn't the first time you've touched Rin like this so he knows it all too well.

But there's something about this time that makes it different. You're slower as you work your palm against his cock, pushing the curve up against his tip and circling it without touching it long enough. He stares down at you as you do it. Your other hand fondles his balls, thumb teasing the seam as you squeeze them.

"Did you touch yourself without me, Rin?"

"No," He admits. This time it's not a lie. You smile.

"What a good boy."

Fuck. He shivers.

"My good boy. My Rin, all mine forever right?" You say, not expecting him to respond. But it's not babble, not pointless chatter. It's what he wants to hear.

Possession. Yes, he thinks. All yours forever.

Of course he doesn't say it. Not there yet, and unsure if he ever will be but it feels good to hear anyway. Rin has always been humiliated by his own desire. Before you, he thinks he did a good job of keeping it a secret. He didn't explore his sexuality in a way that was meaningful for good reason, avoiding it all together.

You changed that. He wanted you. And you wanted him, always, with such intensity that Rin found it hard to stop thinking about. Rin has always been weak to you.

And you're like this. Straightforward and open and so attractive it makes him feel like he's going to sink. To be wanted in this way that wraps him up in reassurance, to be taken care of. You want all of him. Even his tears. Even though he resists because it’s not something he knows how to cope with even now.

Would anyone dislike that if they got it as easily as he does?

You keep doing the same hand motions, stroking his cock at this slow pace that drives him up a wall. His chest heaves as you switch the pace. Fast, fast, slow. Over and over until he's at the edge. His whole body tenses, though his hands remained tucked at his sides.

Then you stop. Completely. Leaving your hands up, you peek at him through your lashes as he lets out a ragged breath. A look of irritation on his expression, quickly washed out by fear at the amusement on your face.

"Cry for me, baby." You say satisfied with yourself, thumb pressing into his slit "I'll let you cum after."

"You're," He swears under his breath as you start again, cock sensitive now "You're..."

"I'm what, baby? I'm mean? Weird?"

He shivers as you lean forward, hugging your arm around his shoulders, hand reaching down to drag your nails lightly up his spine. The sensations all feel mixed together and with your body all pressed to him, he can feel every outline of you. Every curve. The scent of you tickles the back of his throat again. You wrap around him like a vine, curled around his wrists and ankles and throat. Trapped, suspended by the presence of you.

He wants to cum, but the first time you deny it like this isn't so bad.

"Look at you holding it in so well," You start, though Rin can feel how much more is at the end of your sentence "Can you keep touching yourself for me, then? Slow like this."

Rin nods, though he isn't sure there's much of a choice. You kiss him in reward, standing back up on your feet. He watches you as you turn around. You pull your pants down the curve of your ass, leaving a pair of panties plainly in view and Rin feels his dick twitch in his hands. Fuck. You're so wet it's dripping down your leg. Knowing he did that to you is enough to make him groan.

Plus your bare skin, soft and smooth from being showered and lotioned is too much for him to try and endure.

You repeat the action with your shirt, but there's nothing underneath. When you're almost naked, you make a show of bending over to take your panties off. There's a noise as the thin cotton unsticks from your soaked cunt, material roll down your legs. It's just enough to get an eyeful of your pussy.

Soft and hot and so fucking wet. He feels restless. His hand isn't doing the job. He wants to be inside. Closer to you. You're all naked when you turn around and Rin is still mostly clothed. You crawl in his lap and move his hands away when you're straddling him again.

Cruel and unrelenting, you grab his cock again but this time you pull it against you. Grind yourself against his shaft, rubbing his tip against your clit deliberately. The sensation is making him bite down on his cheek hard enough that he might bleed. Soaking pussy, sticky and welcoming.

"You're trying so hard today," You say, half-way between sincere and condescending. His head is starting to get mushy, like his tongue doesn't fit in his mouth. "You don't have too, yknow?"

"What a-are you…?"

It's too fucking much. Too many senses stimulated. Too many feelings pouring out of him as he listens to you talk.

You're throbbing. He can feel you as you slide his cock between your folds with your hands, a slow and controlled pace that sends him teetering over the edge with each pass. It's so slick that it's noisy, and you have to be careful not to slip. Your fingers are covered in arousal just like his cock—so fucking messy, and it's dripping down his shaft in beads. It's wearing down his will. The one he's currently using to maintain his pride.

For Rin, loss always has to come at ultimate defeat. He hates things that are half-assed. Neck in neck, close to winning but not quite. That kind of thing is too frustrating. It has to be all encompassing. Rin wants to give in only when he can longer bear the weight of losing. Loss so utterly undeniable he can do nothing but be pinned underneath.

When you tell Rin he's trying too hard, the condescension is not for nothing. Because you know just as well as he does that you can take him apart easily. Crushing defeat through actions and patience. That's been your M.O. from the start. This is you giving him lee way. It's not like you'll make fun of him if he gives in.

Because you are sweet and you are kind and if Rin had even an ounce less of shame - you'd spoil him without thinking twice. He's only managed to do it once before and it was probably the best he's ever felt. But he can't default to it. Despite how much he wants too, he can’t just let go. Doing this much is complicated. Listening is complicated and his brain is so full of self-doubt he’s starting to shake.

But then, there’s you. The sound of your voice that makes it all stop.

"Can't just let go, can you sweetie?" And Rin trembles at the slight edge, just barely there "I think it's cute, though. You're so cute, aren't you, Rin?"

"I'm not—"

"I mean, look at how you're tensing your muscles trying not to fuck up into me, huh? Guess you're not any different from other guys. When you see somethin' soft and wet for you to fuck you lose all your common sense."

He chokes on a moan so loud he can't believe it's coming from him.

"Shouldn't resist it so hard. You can be my spoiled little boy. That's what Rin likes best, right?"

Normally, Rin admires your smooth talk. He doesn't have it in him to mimic it, sentences too awkward and too clumsy to sound good. You talk to him like this like it's so easy. Conversational. Rin doesn't hate it about you, but right now it's the worst thing he could hear.

He's slipping into it slowly. Like he's hanging onto the edge of a cliff and you're pulling his fingers off one-by-one. Your pussy is so wet and he's so fucking hard. Nothing makes any sense anymore. He can’t tell left from right and he wants to run away. But he can’t. He doesn’t want to stop but he wants to run away.

"You're drooling," You coo, free hand wiping the corner of his mouth. He burns with embarrassment "How sweet."

He can feel himself, the edge again - this time so close he can practically taste it. And the second the knot gets close to being untied, you stop all over again. Rin curses so loud he practically yells, his whole body lurching forward to hump into something before you push him all the way back down.

Officially overstimulated, he looks up at you desperately. You look so absolutely delighted he almost wants to shove you away.

"There it is. Look at you, baby, Just a little more."

He doesn't know how long he can keep up. This part of this is a trust fall. Rin could probably cry right now. Being pushed to this extent, till his head and his body are all out of sorts. Till there's too many thoughts jumbled up and tangled to fight. It makes Rin want to cry. It makes him want to seethe. To curl into himself and abandon everything.

He’s scared, admittedly. But there’s you, again. And so he breathes and watches you and doesn’t want to stop.

You keep your pace, rubbing his cock relentlessly against your pussy. So much of the same thing, but you're focused on nothing but him. Even when it feels good for you, when you moan or sigh, your eyes are glued to watching. Watching his cock twitch erratically, little dribbles of precum spilling out but never being able to come through completely. That you swipe up with your fingers and add to the mess you're making.

It'd feel so good right now. You're so wet, fuck — you might even push him out if he puts it in. Rin wants and wants and wants. The magnitude of it is truly, truly terrifying.

But you take him through it slowly. Then the words fall out of your lips slowly - gently, almost a secret.

"Mommy's pretty boy," You rasp, so low that it's barely there but it makes the entire world stop at once. He shudders, his whole body trembles. He can feel himself falling completely and the sudden desperation has him clutching your hips. The emotion is so overwhelming. Only you could ever do this to him. You're the only person allowed. A bittersweetness to all of it that makes Rin yield despite his efforts. "My sweet boy."

The praise makes him feel like he's melting. Mommy makes it okay. He doesn't know who he is currently. It's not his job too. He just looks up at you and hopes that everything carries over.

You cup your hands on his face, sticky and messy and look up at him. He stares at you as you smile, eyes blown wide and floaty.

"There you are," You say, so sweet Rin wants to sink "Mommy's here. 's okay."

He's lost himself in it completely. He's not drowning, but he's submerged in water with no room to look for light. Just you, only you.

"Hi," He says, staring at you. Relief fills him "I love you."

You smile, kissing his forehead "I love you more, Rinnie. It's oka—oh. Oh, there it is."

He blinks and suddenly his visions blurred. Then there's tears, though it's not a sob. They're hot and wet and make his eyes sting. You wipe them with the driest part of your hand.

"You're so pretty when you cry." You tell him. He's needy. He leans against your shoulder, mumbling.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, baby. Lemme see. C'mere?"

He listens, lets you stare at him as hot wet tears roll down his face. He's sure when he's more cognizant he'll be ashamed. Right now he doesn't care.

"Fuck, that's it," You lean forward, licking a stripe up the side of his cheek that sends shivers up his spine, swallowing his tears "So, so pretty. You did well. What should I give you, hm?"

"Inside," He rasps, voice shot completely as he holds your hips "Please."

"Be more specific, my love."

"Please let me cum inside." He can hear his own voice echo in the back of his head, the words coming out so slurred.

"Good boy," You purr. He shakes. Like you read his mind, you pet the back of his hair soothing him "You can hug me, sweetheart. I don't mind."

So he does. Picks his arms up and wraps them around your bare middle and holds you close. He buries his face into your neck, cheek pressed against your shoulder. You pat his head, scratching your nails against his scalp. He sits still like that for a minute, nudging his nose across your skin, leaning you back so he can get a mouth around your tits.

He sucks gently, drunk off of it. You laugh airily, repositioning slightly (carefully) so he doesn't have to pull away. He can feel the head of his cock against your entrance and he moans.

He can't help but moan as soon as you even get close. The sensation is so unreal. So dripping wet that it's hard for you to get it in completely, slippery silken walls that make it hard for him to push in. When he feels the tip enter, he groans. His whole body gives like a rope on it’s last thread, teeth gritted as he ruts his hips to fuck into you. It doesn't even take any effort to push. You sink down on it slowly, soothing him and telling him to hold it until he bottoms out.

He does, impatiently. He waits until he's all the way at the bottom before looking up at you again.

"Good boy. Easy does it. It'll feel better to cum since you're all the way inside, right? I can do whatever you want, but if you cum before me - you'll have to make up for it. Okay? Still with me?"

He nods.

"And your color?"

"'s green."

"Good job. That's it, baby. How do you want it?"

"Can I..?"

"You wanna fuck me?"

He nods, hazed. You smile at him.

"To your heart's content. Go ahead. Hold me here, 'kay?"

Rin listens, no longer trying to fight off the urge to listen. He holds you by your hips, latching his mouth to your chest again before fucking into you slow. Your pussy is a vice grip on his cock, and he's so overstimulated as is - he knows he doesn't have much of a will to hold it in. He tries though, quivering with each thrust as he holds you up in his arms.

You mumble to him, the praise is short but sweet and each word makes his brain feels like it's gonna melt out of his ears. He feels good, a pleasant buzzing numbness all over his body that has him reeling. You work as an anchor for him, stroking and petting and kissing him as he works himself into a frenzy.

He can barely get the words out of his mouth as he feels the pressure inside of him start to build. The knot coiled so tightly is unraveling quicker than he can piece it back together. He can't hold it, he can't, he can't, he can't. His thrusts are erratic, too sloppy. Chasing his own high as he fucks into you hard and fast.

"Gonna cum for me? Mommy's sweet boy, gonna fill me up all nice?"

He croaks out the words "Y-yeah. Yeah, fuck."

"There you go. That's it."

Rin cums so hard he sees white, specks like stars in his vision. The sensation borders unbearable. It's such an intense wave of emotion he can't do anything but groan, gripping you hard and bottoming out completely before painting your insides stark white. Thick, hot spurts of cum that he keeps fucking into, overstimulating himself. It just feels so good. So good and so perfect and his mouth is agape - gasping for air as his body goes limp. You kiss him as it happens, swallowing the moans out of his mouth with a delighted smile.

He's ragged by the time it's all out, more coming in a second wave with less intensity. The wave of euphoria that washes over him doesn't bring him back down like he thought it would. He still looks at you, head blank as you smile down at him. You kiss his hairline.

"You with me? Think I should call it quits tonight."

"No. Want you to—you can sit, 'm fine."

It's like you can read his mind.

"You want me to sit on your face even though you just came in me? Think you're up for that?"

"'s fine." He says one more time, too embarrassed to do anything more. Maybe you're feeling merciful because you don't make him say please. Just laugh, sliding his soft cock out of you slowly.

"Think you're gonna be okay? Wanna lay down?"

"I can sit on the floor. If it's okay."

He can feel how small his voice sounds, a feeling of shame overwhelming him. You rub his cheek affectionately.

"If you say so. Don't need to do anything but stick your tongue out and listen, but my sweet boy is good at listening, isn't he?"

He flushes. "Hn."

You give him a delighted smile, a proud one that makes him reel. Before he can pull away, you tell him to get down on the floor. He listens, back against it with his head laid back on the cushions. He can see his cum starting to drip out of you as you stand, his heart hammering in your ears.

The couch creak under the weight of your knees as you hover yourself over Rin's face. You thread your fingers through his hair and he sticks his tongue out without thinking twice. He can feel all the mess, your cum and his in his mouth - bitter and tangy as he lets his hand grip on your hips. Your clit is hard to attention as you grind against his tongue. He feels good as you groan with pleasure over him.

"I'm so worked up ‘cause of you. My pretty boy," You praise, before rocking your hips against his face. The feeling of you is suffocating, your thighs locked around his head. He can only breathe in the warm air surrounding you. You taste so fucking good. His nose is bumped against your pelvis as you tug harder and start an easy rhythm.

You rut back and forth and Rin suctions to give you a little more friction. You praise him for it.

"Fuck, Rin. I'm gonna—gonna c-cum."

Rin moans against you in approval and that seems to be enough to set you on edge. You hold hard onto the roots of his hair, your thighs clenching as you cum hard on his face after fucking it. He can feel your walls spasm, pushing the mess into his mouth. He swallows it obediently anyways, content to let you ride out your high until you're no longer able too.

When you sit up, you swipe Rin's lower lip with your thumb with a warm smile, putting your thumb in his mouth.

"Let's go clean up, baby."

For Rin, the process of aftercare usually tends to be a lot of grounding. A bath, usually, with the two of you talking about nothing in the process. You wash Rin’s hair for him and wash-up together and then eat something. Rin’s spoiled, really, so you usually cook for him when he asks.

Afterwards, the emotional exhaustion sets in. You retire yourself both to bed with snacks. Rin gets to pick (a thriller movie, you’ve let him have today) and he lays there in a hoodie with his face tucked into your side as you play with his hair. It’s vulnerable. A thing he can only access with you, after all this coaxing and trust. He tries not to think too hard about what this all means. That you have sex like this, and Rin submits to you willingly. He doesn’t want to know what it says about himself.

It’s hard for him to wrap his head around it entirely. Why it feels so good to leave it all to you. Why being doted on like that is so soothing. Despite all the time it takes to unravel him enough to give in, you always execute flawlessly and Rin is… happy at the end of it. Even though he can only admit that begrudgingly.

Rin leans into the warmth of your body as you gently stroke his hair. He looks up at you as you scroll on your phone, a silent plea for attention. You glance down and give him a laugh.

“Hi, my love”

“What are you looking at?” He asks, masking the petulance in his voice just barely. You giggle.

“Twitter. People are asking if you cry a lot because of my interview.”

“You’re such an idiot. Did you even mean that?” He says, leaning up to be closer to you. He headbutts you lightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek right after.

“Sorta. It was mostly a plot to bully you about it. I am an idiot, and you love me so much about it.”

“Unfortunately.” He says, rolling his eyes. He can feel the barest smile on his face and goes to look away as he hugs you close to him. You give a stare full of warmth that he wants to shy away from but can’t bring himself too. You press a tender kiss to his head.

“Mommy loves you so much, yeah? More than anything in the whole wide world.”

“I told you I was fine earlier. I don’t feel bad or anything.” He says when you use the title. He thinks you’re reassuring him because you’re concerned, but you just shrug.

“I just wanted to tell you that.”

He frowns “...I love you too. I guess.”

You snort. Rin smiles as you turn to face him and hug him close.

“Thanks for telling me, baby.”

#itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin smut #bllk x reader #bllk smut #writing tag #a.dr #mommy kink cw #bangs my head against the wall

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readerthatreadsss · 2 years

Text

Flipping The Script~(TASM! Peter Parker)

Pairing: TASM! Peter Parker X Fem! reader

Summary: You’ve been in a relationship with Peter for a while, and throughout that time, you’ve always been the more dominant one in the bedroom. But, one night, Peter comes up with a few interesting ideas. And with that sloppy grin on his face, you couldn’t help but give in and hand over the reigns for a night.

Warning: 18+ FILTHY SMUT, unprotected sex (remember to wrap your willy before you fuck her silly), rough sex, swearing, basically porn with a splash of plot, light spanking, hair pulling, choking (barely), throat fucking, oral (m and r recieving), face fucking, face riding, dom!Peter (kinda), sub!reader (kinda), creampie, praise kink, Pet names (only pretty girl, pretty boy, sweetheart, and baby), small bit of fluff at the end.

Word count: 3k+

A/N: Hello! This is my first official post, just to give you guys an idea of what my writing’s like since im not really used to the writing style on here cause I’ve been writing on Wattpad for the past few years. So please let me know how I did. Hope you enjoy it cause it honestly turned out better than I expected it to. I will also be taking requests from now on! (Check my pinned post to see which characters i take requests for)

DO NOT COPY MY WORK! AND MINORS DNI!

It was a normal Saturday night. Peter had just finished patrolling and you just got home from work.

After showering and changing into more comfortable clothes, you and Peter were cuddled up in bed, light kisses passing between you occasionally...until Peter briefly zoned out.

Spotting the dazed look in his brown eyes, you lightly tapped his cheeks with your hands. “Pete?” you called out, effectively snapping him out of his daze.

“Yeah?” he mumbled, turning his head down to look at you.

“You kinda left for a minute there. What’s on your mind?” you cooed as your fingers continued to caress his clean shaven cheeks.

“Nothing...I, uh, I kinda had an idea?” he answered.

You raised a brow in intrigue as a small smile crossed your features. “An idea? What kind of an idea?” you questioned as you allowed one of your hands to slowly trail down his neck and naked chest.

“I think you- ahem- know what kind of idea,” Peter said, his ears growing red from the way your fingers were touching his abdomen.

Being spiderman meant that Peter’s senses were on high alert 24/7, which meant that every brush of your fingertips drove him crazy. It’s one of the reasons why you love touching him so much. And possibly why he always let you.

“Hmm, sounds interesting,” you chirped.

His lips slipped into a smile as he shuffled closer to you and wrapped both his hands around your waist. “Pick a number between 1 and 40,″ he said.

Your brows furrowed in confusion from the unusual demand. “That doesn't sound very sexy if I’m being quite honest, Pete,” you giggled.

He rolled his eyes as his fingers slipped under your t-shirt and crawled up your sides, leaving a burning trail of goosebumps in their wake. “Please? For me?” he pleaded as he presented that charming full teeth grin of his, knowing that it would soften you up.

You sighed dramatically, staring into his beautifully brown eyes. “Fine,” you gave in, “Ummm...how about...39?”

You watched as Peter pursed his lips briefly in thought.

Before you could utter another syllable, you felt Peter tighten his grip on your sides before flipping you onto your stomach, gaining a surprised yelp from your lips. As you tried to get used to the abrupt change in position, you felt Peter grip a heap of your hair before pulling on it roughly. You panted as he held your back tightly against his chest, still maintaining his grip on your hair.

You couldn't stop the moan that befell your lips as he used one hand to rip your shirt from your chest, leaving your breasts available to him.

You were never the submissive type, but Peter’s sudden change in attitude already had your panties soaking, which you were sure he could smell.

“You okay, pretty girl?” he whispered, his cool breath fanning against your ears.

Chills ran down your spine from the nickname. You nodded confidently regardless of the foreign blush that had found its way onto your cheeks. “I am so much fucking better than okay,” you spoke, slowly grinding your lower half against the growing bulge in Peter’s sweatpants.

He caught onto your movements and abruptly put a stop to it by gripping your waist with his free hand. “You’re gonna count for me,” he began, temporarily releasing your hair to most likely undress himself.

“Count what?” you cluelessly asked.

The harsh ripping sound of your pajama shorts and panties was the next sound you heard before feeling Peter harshly thrust into you, his thick cock sending a wave of pleasure and delicious pain through you at the same time.

“Holy fuck!” you moaned at the sudden intrusion, feeling your boyfriend bottom out inside of you.

His hands came to wrap around your neck as he roughly pulled you up against his bare chest. “What did I say? I want you to use those pretty fucking lips and count for me,” he demanded before shoving your head down into the mattress.

Peter fully pulled out of you before shoving his dick back inside of your dripping pussy.

“One,” you choked out, swallowing back a scream.

He pulled out of you and slammed back in, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass echoing in your shared bedroom.

“Two,” you moaned.

Seeing that you were getting the idea of his game, Peter decided to pick up the pace.

He quickly found an angle that worked for him and repeatedly slammed into you, pressing your head into your sheets. “Three, four, five, si- FUCK!” you eventually gave up counting when Peter hit a specific spot in your cervix. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”

But your words soon stopped short when Peter fully pulled his cock out of you. Before you could turn and ask what the hell he was doing, you felt a stinging on your ass as a loud slap resounded in the air.

Peter Parker, the same man that has called you mommy on numerous occasions, spanked you...and you fucking loved it.

He grabbed each of your ankles and flipped you onto your back, his advanced strength coming in very handy. “I didn’t say you could stop counting,” he huskily whispered as he hovered over you, his very erect cock prodding your stomach.

Peter soon lined up his cock with your entrance and thrust himself into your tight cunt again, not yet moving inside your warmth. “You will count every thrust and if you stop counting or cum before we get to 39, then I will punish you,” while he spoke, Peter looked into your eyes and searched for any hint of apprehension. He only found lust, excitement, and love, telling him that you were more than okay with what he was doing.

Your eyes sparkled at the mention of punishment. “What are you gonna do to me?” you smirked, “Spank me?”

Peter grabbed each of your wrists and pressed them against the headboard of your bed. “No, I'm gonna hold you against this headboard and fuck those pretty lips with my cock until you’re a drooling, slobbering mess.”

Your thighs involuntarily clenched at his words. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby,” you cooed as you leaned up and pressed a sloppy kiss against his lips.

You could tell from his pursed swollen lips and his dilated eyes that your stolen kiss had him nearly ready to submit to you again, but he quickly grabbed a hold of himself and focused back on the task at hand.

Peter slowly removed his cock from your pussy, erupting a whine from your chest, only to flip you back onto your stomach with Peter taking up his previous position inside of you.

“Peter!” you loudly moaned, not caring who heard.

One of his large hands pulled you up to your knees, while the other came around your chest and squeezed one of your breasts. “Lemme hear you count, baby.”

“FUCK- seven!” you moaned in a strangled tone, your walls clenching around Peter’s familiar length.

Within seconds, his hands had found their way back to your hair again and he grabbed as much as he could in his large fists. Peter continued to roughly thrust in and out of you, and you continued to count, slurring your words more and more with each thrust. The feel of Peter pounding inside of you and the sting of his grip on your hair was nearly becoming overwhelming. There was no way you were gonna last much longer.

You were now at 21 and you could feel the need for release rising in your stomach. “Twenty tw-Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you yelled, tears springing from the corners of your eyes from the force Peter was using to fuck you.

He then reached around one hand and pressed it against your soaking clit, gaining a scream of pleasure from you in the middle of your counting. “You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he lowly groaned in your ears.

Peter picked up his pace, as you struggled to keep up your counting while keeping a hold on your impending orgasm.

“Keep taking my fucking cock, pretty girl, you’re doing so good,” he praised you, slowly rubbing his fingers against your aching clit.

The sounds of his hips slapping against your ass grew louder than you thought was possible, and every single movement inside of you, lit your nerves on fire.

“Fuck, Peter, I’m gonna-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” he grunted, still maintaining a cadence inside of you.

But his warning came too late, as you were soon overwhelmed by the combination of Peter’s large cock pressing against the most sensitive areas of your cunt and his fingers expertly prodding your clit. You cried out as the tight cord inside of your stomach snapped and you felt your juices leaking all over Peter’s cock.

“Fucking hell,” you moaned, shaking from your orgasm as Peter pulled out of you.

You had no time to recover before feeling yourself be spun onto your back. Your chest heaved as you remembered what Peter had promised you in return for your disobedience.

God, you had never been more excited.

You slowly backed up against the headboard, smirking as Peter crawled further onto the bed. You crossed your wrists against the wooden board as Peter positioned one knee on each side of your head. You gulped in anticipation as his hard cock stood at attention before your throbbing lips.

“You did this to yourself,” he smirked grimly.

“We’ll see about that,” you challenged him.

Having enough of your mouthing off, Peter used one hand to grip your hair in his fist while using the other to secure your hands against the headboard. “Let’s put that big mouth of yours to good use.”

You stuck out your tongue, awaiting his cock. Peter used his leverage on the back of your head to bring it forward and meet his achingly hard dick. You hummed in satisfaction as the taste of your own juices flooded your taste buds. Your lips soon fully wrapped around the first few inches of Peter’s cock.

And that was all he needed to take things further.

Peter thrusted his large dick further into your mouth, using his grip on your hair to hold you in place. “There you go, baby,” he cooed, sighing in pleasure as his cock invaded your throat.

At that moment you were very thankful for your lack of a gag reflex, as you forced your throat to make room for Peter’s angry thrusts.

He grunted as he felt the head of his dick hit the farthest part of your throat, and held his position for a few seconds. “So this is what peace and quiet sounds like?” he joked.

You groaned around his cock and narrowed your teary eyes up at him, wordlessly objecting to his ill-timed joke.

He looked down and laughed at your face before slowly pulling back and fucking your mouth at a torturous pace, yet again.

You could feel drool leaking from the sides of your mouth as you relaxed your throat and continued to take Peter’s length in your mouth. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, Y/N,” he moaned, his thrusts growing more forceful as you skillfully teased his tip with your tongue.

“Oh fuck yes, baby, just like that,” he urged you as he continued moving your head up and down on his dick. Sweat lined your brow as you could feel the drool from your aching lips falling onto your breasts.

Peter’s thrusts eventually grew sloppy and he reluctantly withdrew his throbbing cock from your hungry lips. He wasn’t ready to cum yet and he definitely wasn’t gonna do it in your mouth when your pussy was ready and waiting.

“What did we learn?” he moved his hand from your hair down to grip your neck.

Your pussy throbbed at the force with which he squeezed your neck. “We learned that this game is fucking incredible,” you spoke, dazed from the ordeal that Peter did on your throat.

“Hmmm,” he momentarily paused in thought, “since you sucked my cock so beautifully, I’m gonna give you a reward,” he smiled, using the hand that previously held down your wrists to wipe the slobber from your cheeks.

You licked your lips clean as you looked up into his brown eyes expectantly.

“You’re gonna ride my face, and then, when I’ve had enough of your delicious pussy, I’m gonna flip you over and fuck my cum into your guts. Deal?” he proposed.

Your jaw slackened at his statement and you eagerly nodded in agreement.

Peter grinned before sliding off you and allowing you to shift in position for him. Your legs shook in anticipation as you began carefully lowering yourself onto Peter’s hungry lips.

His impatience soon rose to the surface as he wrapped each of his arms around your thighs and harshly pulled your soaking cunt down onto his tongue.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you moaned, your eyes sliding closed as euphoria washed over you at the feeling of Peter’s tongue sliding between your wet folds.

You reached down and ran your fingers through his messy brown hair, slowly grinding your pussy against his eager mouth. “You’re so fucking good at that, Peter,” you moaned.

Peter continued devouring your sopping core before using one of his hands to smack your ass. To add fuel to the fire, the brown-eyed young man began moaning his satisfaction into your pussy, the vibrations bringing you closer to release.

“Shit, Pete, I’m gonna cum again,” you shakily told him as you ground yourself against his damp face even harder. Peter soon snaked his arms up and squeezed each of your hardened nipples in between his fingers as his tongue fiddled with your clit.

Your breathing grew ragged as his focus on your sensitive bundle of nerves had you nearing your orgasm for the second time that night. “Fuck yes, Peter, right fucking there baby,” you shouted as you continued running your fingers through his hair in encouragement.

He continued his groaning beneath you, using the vibrations of his voice to drive you crazier and crazier as he gripped your thigh harshly enough to leave bruises. It wasn’t long before-

“Oh my- Fuck! Peter I’m cumming!”

You moaned loudly as your orgasm left you shaking above Peter’s still-active mouth. The young man continued lapping at your cunt, prolonging your orgasm as he soaked up every drop of you that he could.

He eventually ceased his slaughter on your pussy. “Damn, Pete,” you sighed in satisfaction.

As you slid off of your boyfriend’s face, you looked down to see him grinning widely, his face glistening with your slick.

“I think there was one more thing you promised to do to me, sweetheart,” you smirked while sliding off the bed and walking away, “But I think you should come and get me first. Consider it payback.”

You didn't make it past the door of your room before feeling Peter’s hand wrap around your neck from behind. You yelped as he slammed your body against the nearest wall and brutally pressed his lips against yours. You groaned as your senses were flushed with the pleasant taste of yourself again.

Peter reached both his arms underneath your ass and used his strength to hoist your legs around his own waist. You swung your arms around his neck to keep your balance.

“You’re not in charge tonight, sweetheart,” he huskily whispered before shoving his throbbing cock inside of your sensitive pussy.

You screamed at the feel of him inside of you, the remnants of your orgasm still affecting your body.

Peter used one hand to hold you against the wall while using the other to wipe away the few tears that had managed to leak free from your pleasure-filled eyes. “Look at you, crying over my cock. I thought you were tougher than that Y/L/N,” he taunted as he began cruelly fucking you against your shared room wall.

“I am. Now shut up and fuck me harder, Parker,” you spoke through gritted teeth.

Peter smirked down at you before picking up his pace, now fucking you at a speed that could have broken a world record.

You moaned loudly as your pussy began clenching around Peter’s dick, gaining a groan from him.

It wasn't long before his thrusts grew sloppy and his groans grew louder. You placed each of your palms on his reddened face, immediately gaining his attention. You smirked up at him as you could see in his eyes that he was growing closer. “Cum inside of my pussy, pretty boy.”

And that was all it took to push the hero over the edge.

He roughly slammed one of his hands against the wall beside your head as he emptied himself in your cunt. You moaned happily as his liquids flooded your insides.

You couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face as he groaned in release. “You did such a good job, baby.” At your words, Peter smiled and leaned forward to press a small kiss onto your lips.

As you both came down from your respective highs, Peter withdrew his softening cock from your entrance and helped you to stand on your two feet.

“Let’s go clean up,” you grabbed one of his arms and led him to the bathroom connected to your room.

“Yes ma’am,” he smirked behind you, shamelessly staring at your ass as you walked.

“I hope this isn’t the last I get to see of Dominant Peter,” you smiled as you both stepped into your shower.

You leaned forward to turn on the water before feeling a familiar pair of arms snake around your bare waist. “Definitely not,” Peter grinned as he kissed your neck from behind, “Thanks for trusting me.”

“You’re welcome baby. Thanks for sharing that part of yourself with me,” you smiled while turning to face him.

The shower water soon began cascading over both your heads as you leaned up on your toes and lovingly kissed your boyfriend. “I love you, Peter Parker.”

“I love you more, Y/N, Y/L/N.”

You grinned up at the man who you were sure you would spend the rest of your life with. “Not possible.”

~~~~~~

#tasm!spiderman x reader #peter parker #peter parker smut #tasm!peter smut #tasm!peter parker smut #marvel imagine #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #bxg #smut #first post #peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman x you #tasm!peter fanfiction #marvel

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