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ynsvnte · 5 days

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Our world collided ! — Nishimura Riki

Genre: fluff, angst-ish.. Drabble, opposites attract, friends to lovers, childhood best friends, high school au

wc: 1.2k+ (1238)

warnings: kissing (like once), pet names (pretty girl), jealousy

pairing: emo!niki x coquette!reader

Masterlist

“Okay that’s enough” Niki says while pushing your hands off his hair.

“What—no I’m not even close to being done..!?” You complained, hoping he’ll let you continue to let you play with his hair. The current situation being that Niki’s hair being into pigtails along with some of your hair bows attached. You thought it was cute..while he thought the opposite. “It’s hurting my scalp, take these off me now..” he demanded.. you noticed the slight pout only his face. Making you chuckle.

“I’d rather not..” you say, squishing his cheeks. He rolls his eyes before grabbing a hold of your wrist and pulling it away from him.. “I warned you..” That’s all you heard until you felt the wall against your back.. you close your eyes at the impact until a few seconds past and you open them seeing Niki infront of you kneeling down to reach your height.. your heart sped up from him being this close..

“Umm…” you say hoping he would (not) back away. Niki gets closer noses barely centimeters from touching each other.. you breathe hitched. Niki notices this, smirking.. you could feel your face getting hot. You felt like he was going to kiss you.. that’s until he pulls his face away from yours.. laughing at your reaction.. “Why so shy..hmm?” He asked while smirking.. you glare up at him, clearly embarrassed.

But that won’t stop him from teasing you. “I’m not shy..just..surprised..” You said your gaze softened..you glance up, he’s staring at you.. you look away before walking away from him..disappointed.. Niki sighs at the sight of you walking away.. “Did I really make her upset?” He asks himself, wondering.

The school day was near the end.. you looked up the clock.. 15 more minutes left and then you can leave. You’re lucky this time you don’t have class with Niki. As you only have 2 with him and lunch period. You got distracted, letting time fly by quickly. You check the clock again..so so so close only 2 minutes.. you just go ahead and start packing up your things..within those 2 minutes the bell finally rings dismissing all the students for the day. You past students trying to avoid bumping into Niki ever since what happened earlier. You really had your hopes up, expecting him to like you after all these years of being friends and yet…nothing. You quickly pick up your pace and walk out the gate.. you usually walk home with Niki as your both next door neighbors having your moms be best friends back in their days. You don’t see him anywhere, not bothering to wait too..you just start walking home..alone which is rare.

You’ve made it home taking off your shoes and tossing them out of your way. You set your bag down. Walking to your room. Opening the door you rush towards your bed, jumping onto it. Letting the cool sheets hit your face. Your aching body feels better when the feeling of your bed hits it. You rest a bit before leaving your room seeing what’s there to eat. While you wait for your mom to come home.. you find some kind of chips and decide to snack on it.

You make your way over to the living room..you can see through the sheer curtain.. something catches your eye.. two figures walking.. side by side. You walk a little bit closer seeing its Niki.. and another girl.. you don’t know her..never seen her either.. you frown at the sight in front of you.. “that should be me” you thought.. you noticed he still had the bows you used on him from earlier.. clipped to his bag. You take one more look before you see them both entering his house.. you just too push whatever just happened out of your mind.

Hours later..you couldn’t stop thinking about Niki with another girl aside from you? You knew he was earlier scared by girls no matter who it was except for you of course.. the unknown girl left about an hour ago you look out your bedroom window seeing the light in Niki’s on. You see the cup and strings from your window from the outside.. that’s how you and Niki used to communicate.. you resist using it.. thinking it seems foolish.. but you decided to anyway.. you open up your window.. a gust of wind blowing your hair out of your face.

You pick up the cup.. tapping into it 2 times remembering the code you both set up a long time ago. You weren’t expecting him to answer.. a few moments of silence passed you debated to go back inside or try again, before tapping your finger twice again.. you hear his window open up.. you look up seeing him.. in a basic black tee.. yet he looked so good. Moonlight shining his skin.. giving it a youthful look. Niki was in the same daze as you admiring your face.. doe eyes.. staring straight right at him.. plump lips he wishes to one day kiss. Niki slowly picks up the cup speaking into it.

“Need something..?” He says, your throat goes dry.. it’s like you never talked to him before. You clear your throat.. “Umm—can I get my hair bows back..I’m using it for tomorrow..” you made that up..it was the only believable one to get an excuse to talk to him.. “oh I don’t know if I can throw it at you..” “no I mean can I come over just for a bit..” you say.

You can see his reaction slightly confused but agreed anyway. You take a short trip to his house..going through the back door like it was your own home. You go up to his room. You knock before he opens the door for you. Niki is met with you and your hello kitty pajamas.. and hair in 2 braids decorated with bows. “Hi..” you said slowly.. Niki moves aside allowing you to enter. You keep your gaze low, but from a far you can see your bows.. you quickly grabbed it.. “That’s all?” Niki asks..

“Yes..wait actually yea.. no I mean no….i still have something to ask” Niki close the door, sitting down on his bed.. “yeah?” You get embarrassed to ask this but you continue on.. “Umm..I was wondering who that girl was..that you know you were walking with earlier..” you said avoiding his gaze completely. You hear him chuckle lightly.. “that..oh well..she just wanted to hang out..knowing her intentions..but don’t worry I don’t like her..” “why would I be worried if she likes you or—“ Your voice slowly fades away when you realize Niki's face is close up to yours. “There’s no denying it..I can see right through you..” you knew you were already blushing by now. “Not that I would want you to deny it..because..I so happen to feel the same..” he added smiling at you. You never see him smile. Always having a blank face for most part. Niki holds your jaw bringing your face closer to his before colliding your lips together. Lips against lips. His soft lips against yours. The kiss was tender..slow.. moments later he pulls away.. “Now pretty girl, care to cuddle..” he offered, holding his arms out.. you smiled at him.. “Of course”

Author’s note: get a little inspiration from the book I’m reading rn which is if he had been with me RAHH 🦅 back with my writing haven’t written for Niki in so long along with sunoo WHICH I NEED TO DO ASAP! Crazy how this was in my drabbels for 2 days while my hee one is a month and it’s not coming out anytime soon 🙄💀

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toasty-melons · 1 year

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Abby or ellie with gf reader who gets hella irritated/mad easily when it’s hot out? its hella hot where i live rn n everyone is so annoyed with my attitude but idec this heat is some bs

i FEEL this. i AM this. i’ve been on an Abby kick lately lately so here we go..

i love love love flirty Abby.

Summer Heat

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

(side note: this picture makes my brain go fuzzy 😵‍💫)

Even with shorts and your girlfriend’s oversized t shirt on, it still feels like a million degrees. It’s so hot that it’s almost sticky. Groaning you walk into your shared kitchen to find your sweet, lovely girlfriend pouring some lemonade into two glasses. All her muscles on full display in a fitted, sleeveless shirt and some short athletic shorts. She smiles at you and holds out a filled glass, you take it and swallow the sweet liquid quickly. She eyes you up and down while taking a much slower sip from her cup.

“That my shirt?” You look down and tug on the fabric that hangs loosely from your body and shrug. Furrowed eyebrows and pursed lips making their way onto your pretty face.

“Looks like it, doesn’t it?” The sass laced in your tone clearly throws Abby off guard. She recovers with a grin that has you sweating more than you already are.

“Someone’s in a pissy mood.” You roll your eyes at her mocking words. You can’t help it, it’s hot and your girlfriend is asking stupid questions. Shrugging you hop up onto the kitchen counter, the tile cool under your thighs. She walks over to you slowly, mocking your pout and you try to hold back a smile, failing miserably.

She places her large hands over your knees and pulls them apart, standing in between your legs and replacing her hands on either side of you, leaning in close. Your heart speeds up and your stomach erupts with butterflies.

“What’s got you so worked up, pretty girl?” Her voice is low, teasing, and whispered against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Nothing. It’s just hot, Abs..” You’re quiet but irritation still heavily laced in your words. A pout sitting on your pretty lips again. She tilts her head at you and slightly squints her eyes.

“You’re giving me an attitude because it’s hot?” You think she’s mad at first until you meet her gaze and see her face you know she’s the furthest thing from mad. “I don’t think that’s very fair, baby. What happened to my sweet girl, huh?” Her soft teasing has your face flushing and you’re squirming under her gaze.

“ ‘m sorry Abs.. just hot is all. I hate being hot, it’s so annoying and irritating.” She listens intently as you whine. Her grin only making you whinier. You place your hands over her biceps and run your fingers up and down them softly, feeling her flex beneath your touch.

She leans in close and nudges her nose against yours. Your attitude slowly slipping away the more she distracted you with a very different kind of heat. She presses slow, soft kisses to your cheek down to your jaw. Mumbling a quiet, “You’re my sweet girl, aren’t you?” You nod and hum a whiney, ‘mhm.’ She chuckles and runs her hands up your hips and sides, her fingers digging into you gently.

“I know you’re all hot and miserable baby, but don’t be mean to me.” You pout for a very different reason this time. Abby’s words making your mind hazy and dizzy.

“Abby.” She only grins wider at you and nudges your nose with hers again. Telling you to ‘use your words baby.’ You tilt your head up and mumble, “Wanna real kiss.” Trying to catch her lips with your own, instead she pulls away ever so slightly and chuckles.

Placing a hand under your jaw, and another further up your waist she whispers into your ear, “Only sweet girls get real kisses.” This makes you pout and pull away completely, groaning and suddenly feeling that agonizing summer heat all over again. Abby laughs and grabs one your hands in hers and places soft kisses against the back of it. “Just kidding baby.. i’ll give you a real kiss if that’s what you want?”

“Obviously that’s what I want.” Right as the words slip past your lips, Abby places a hand under your jaw, pulling you and forcing you to look at her.

“I asked you to not be mean, didn’t I? I fucking meant it.” Her low voice sends another shiver down your spine and you can’t help the grin that creeps onto your face. Her eyebrows furrow and you giggle.

“Gonna kiss me for real and shut me up then?” She matches your grin at your question and a moment later her lips are attacking yours. Mumbling a ‘fucking tease,’ in between the heated kisses. A heat that is much more bearable and enjoyable.

#abby anderson #abbyanderson #abby the last of us #abby the last of us 2 #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby x reader #abby x female reader #abby x y/n #abby anderson x fem!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x fem reader

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sunniskyies · 17 days

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𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: Here !! 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: More than a year after your unexplained disappearance, Percy finds you again on a rainy Christmas night. 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson x Calliope!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of grief? 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff, Reunion trope, kind of established relationship 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: IT’S BEEN OVER THREE MONTHS SINCE I GOT THIS REQUEST I'M SORRY— SCHOOL. I’ve ended up changing this rec quite a bit, but I hope those reading still enjoy it <3

It’s not that Percy didn’t like the rain, it’s just there was so much of it. Fat droplets hung from his skin and hair, Manhattan lighting him up like a disco ball. His jacket and shirt were saturated, and his fingers were so frigid they struggled to remain clutched around his skateboard and the brown paper bag. Percy Jackson, Son of the Sea God, thwarted by winter weather.

He should have been back at home half an hour ago, well before the Christmas rain had come. But his route home from the skate shop passed by a bakery, and the smell of fresh madeleines had stopped him in his tracks. A ripple of emotion sank through his body at the familiar scent, one he hadn’t smelt in well over a year. His neighbourhood didn’t have any proper pâtisseries, so he’d never had to smell the baked good, as they were never made. This batch must be some kind of Christmas special.

He slowly turned to look in the window, the warm light cutting through the twilight and sinking into his tan skin. He took a deep breath and pushed inside to the toasty interior.

The bakery was contentedly full; a mother grinning as her two young children excitedly pointed at items in the cabinet, a businessman buying holiday treats for his family, two teenage girls hip-to-hip sipping hot cocoas and kissing chocolate mustaches off eachother. Percy’s green gaze drifted behind the counter where a young baker held a tray of sugar-encrusted madeleines.

The picture of a girl his age slipped uninvited into his mind, as the memories always did. She was curled up in a nest of duvet and quilt, nibbling a madeleine with a book propped up on her knees. Percy’s nose was buried in the hair around her neck, reading lazily over her shoulder with sleep-heavy eyes.

“They’re the best! They’re hand-sized and not messy, so you can eat them while reading!” The sweet-toothed girl had told him once. Ever since then, Percy had made the effort to ask for the little cakes from the camp kitchen and sneak the contraband back to her. He was rewarded with kisses that tasted like brown sugar and lemon, and gooey eyes that left the pages for a moment.

The haze of remembrance cleared, and Percy Jackson was standing in a hole-in-the-wall Manhattan bakery once more. The room was oven-warmed, but he now was cold from the inside out, a hunger that couldn’t be satiated even if he ate every baked treat in the shop.

The mother and her sons passed by him, their laughs disappearing back into the evening, the open door cooling the space a fraction. Percy took another steadying breath and approached the counter.

“Four madeleines, please.” For old-time’s sake.

The detour had cost him his dry clothes. The rain had started coming down pretty much as soon as he left the bakery, and here he was, soaked and clutching a brown paper bag of sponge cakes he wasn’t even sure he would be able to choke down.

He held the parcel beneath his damp jacket, not wanting to lose the precious smell. Most shops in this neighbourhood had shut for Christmas, so he was surprised when he turned a corner to find the dark street bearing a pool of warm light.

The light belonged to an old, second-hand bookstore. He’d never seen it here before. Similarly to the bakery, its glow was enticing. Percy’s jaw clenched, and he looked up to the sky, thinking. The raindrops seemed fatter still. He was almost home, but this weather was miserable. Surely he could step inside for a moment, dry off and then walk the rest of the way? Something about the shop was drawing him in inexplicably.

He really hoped this shop wasn’t a trap, and that he’d just simply never noticed it before. He didn’t feel like fending of monsters tonight, but his fingers still danced over his pocket where Riptide was nestled as he jogged up the door and walked through the door with a cheery ‘ting’ of the bell.

It smelled like old paper and that scent you find when you press your face into a woollen garment and inhale. Like home and libraries and textbooks. The air was chilly, only a rattling little heater sat in the corner trying to warm the space. A space that seemed… bigger on the inside than it had from the street. Percy drifted over to one of the towering shelves, lined with old tomes. His dark eyebrows furrowed as he ran a calloused finger along a bevelled spine. It read:

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡; 𝐀 𝐉𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐈𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Except the title was written in Ancient Greek.

Percy could read it fine, the question was what was it doing here? As he looked at the rest of the shelf, he realised every single one was written in Greek. They had classics like Homer, but also creative pieces and essays and thesis’ and novels. It was identical to a normal indie bookstore, just in Ancient Greek.

Percy was so absorbed in examining the spines that he didn’t notice someone coming up beside him.

“How can I help you?” A girl's voice spoke. “Oo! Are those madeleines? I adore madeleines!” Percy jumped and whipped around to see a young girl with a sparkly smile and warm, sugary eyes. When their eyes met, however, both faces slackened. Who recognised who first one couldn’t say, but both felt that familiar ache erupt alongside a chariot-full of unidentifiable feelings.

Her hair was different, and she wasn’t wearing that too-big orange shirt, but he’d recognise that girl anywhere. In a heartbeat. For the rest of time. Undoubtably, wholly, you.

You.

A squeak slipped from your lips, your e/c eyes as wide as the moon. Distantly, Percy heard the thud as the skateboard and paper bag slipped from his hand, but all he could comprehend was the sight of you standing in front of him. For the first time in his life, it felt like his ADHD brain shut off, everything around him dimming into a blurry vignette, your face in stark clarity. You were saying something, he knew that. Your lips were moving fast, eyes flickering. An explanation, maybe. An apology for running away without a word. But Percy couldn’t care less at that moment, only thinking about how you’re alive, you’re alive, you're alive.

He could feel his feet taking him closer to you, and yours carrying you backwards.

“Please, Percy! Say something!” He heard you plead, your fingers twisted together painfully. “I’m sorry I did it, but you understand right? You have to un—”

Rain-cooled fingers slipped amongst your hair, flushed lips crashing into yours. One arm cradled the small of your back, battle-strong and intent on holding you close to him.

Explanations can wait. Apologies can wait, the arguments can wait. All that mattered was that the ache was over, Percy thought giddily. That grief that had stained every inch of him was washed off with one glance of you.

Even without the madeleines, you still taste sweet. Like citrus and sugar. Your skin smelt like parchment and enchanted Greek ink, a scent lingering from hours pouring over a typewriter. His face pressed so close into yours, he could almost smell every word you had written.

What were you thinking? Is this okay? His heart was pounding so loudly he was sure you could feel it, but your arms were around his neck and your breath was pooling together, damp clothes pressed against dry. Twin flames flickering together.

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

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mitsies · 4 months

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❊ a night to remember - dazai osamu . . you're a barista in the middle of a turf war. dazai is assigned to babysit.

the café you work at is nowhere near 'fantastic,' like the critics acclaim.

it's situated on a busy street corner, right next to an even busier airport. this draws an unfortunately large amount of new customers. you cringe thinking about the poor foreigners, unable or unwilling to purchase overpriced airport cuisine, who find refuge (and a meal) at your workplace. it must be an awful first experience in the country, you think.

despite the wealth your employers must've accumulated from an ever-rotating customer base, you don't think a single dime has ever gone towards improving the place. the outside seems nice enough, but the appliances are hardly functional. paint peels off the walls in the back, and the windows have long since been sealed shut. it gets way too hot in the summer. tables are rickety and every time someone takes a seat, you fear for their life. a small hole in the wall exists right by the entrance to the back, and sometimes when you go to close shop you hear skittering (which you pray is a mouse and not a ghost.) the good part about this, though, is that a little cat frequents your block around nighttime. she's the only reason you enjoy working at the joint, really, especially since it's open so unusually late, meaning you have to work stupid hours. who needs coffee and sandwiches at 10 at night?

you wonder how your shoddy little place of work has passed a single health inspection. you also wonder how you're still alive, because you're pretty sure that there is black mold growing in the storeroom. that, and the fact that you're all too often worked to the bone. your boss never does much, and your coworkers, though lovely people, take way too many sick days to be normal. you think the black mold may have gotten them. either that or they're lazy and love to see you suffer. more often than not, you're the only one working the busy café all day. that place would be a mess if it weren't for you, you like to believe.

it's an unusually slow night when the cat comes by to visit. she's a little thing, with a fluffy grey body and tiny white paws. her nose is a black button framed by white fur and long whiskers. you call her misty, like the character from pokémon.

you haven't gotten a customer in a while. you suspect it's because of the bad weather; your usual clientele of travelers are all seeking shelter within the airport, not daring to venture out quite yet. misty herself is dripping water all over the entrance of the café, but she's too cute for you to care. you walk out from behind the counter to pet her with the back of your hand. your skin comes away damp and covered in a thin layer of cat fur, which is a little gross but you've seen worse while working here. she meows. from your place by the door, you can see outside to the rain-soaked sidewalk. hard droplets of water pelt down like hail, staining the world a shade darker. you grimace, because there's no way you can walk home in this downpour.

"what do i do now, misty?" you stoop down to stroke the cat a little more. she purrs a little, and her long fur continues to stick to your hand in its dampness. nasty.

standing back up, you make your way to the back of the shop to rinse your hands in the sink. you aren't expecting anyone to come in at this point, not when it's this late, and not in this weather. you are proven very wrong when you hear the door creak open, and misty's meow before she scampers away to a far corner of the store.

plastering your best customer service smile on your face, you look up and move to the counter to greet the new arrival. you expect them to be a particularly brave traveler, and you imagine the mess of rainwater you'd later have to mop up off the floor. you are, however, pleasantly surprised by the sight of one of your favourite regulars. "oda!"

he's usually not in this late. but he gives you a small kind of smile as he closes the umbrella he holds and stores it in the designated area, bless him. you, to this day, wonder why he chooses to come to this raggedy little shop enough to be considered a regular. the coffee isn't that good, and the pastries are always a little dry, in your opinion. plus, it's just gross. maybe you're just a hypochondriac, though, because oda seems like a smart and sensible man who would not come to a café that would give him diseases. probably. you hope.

he's a kind, quiet person. you don't know much about him, if anything at all. he's got your name memorised and always greets you, and he tips well, and he asks about your day sometimes. you think he's sweet. maybe not smart, actually, if he keeps coming back. or maybe he's a health advisor coming to collect evidence to shut the place down— oh, you could only hope this is true.

misty, upon realising it's just oda, walks her little feet back over towards the entrance. the tall man bends over to pet the little cat, and for the first time, you catch sight of another person behind him. a boy. he's tall, or at least taller than you. but he doesn't look like much. a set of spindly limbs, bandages covering one eye, while the other is sunken and tired. a coat hangs loosely from his shoulders. you wonder if he's been eating enough. in a flash, though, his eyes connect with yours. it's brief, and awkward, and he stares straight into you like he can see through your skull into your thoughts. a shiver runs down your spine. he might look your age but there is something about him that tells you he has been around far too long, and seen enough for lifetimes. oda stands back up, cutting your view of the boy off. you readjust, trying to shake off the uncanny veil that's just descended on your little store. "your usual, oda?"

he smiles again. "please. thank you."

you dare look at the boy again. "and anything for you, sir?"

his gaze flickers back towards you. it's less heavy than before, but still, a force resides behind it. he hums and smiles. it seems hollow. you try to pay it no mind. "nope."

you nod briskly and go about preparing oda's drink. in your periphery, you watch the pair settle down by a table on the side wall of the shop, right against a big window. oda's back is facing you and you can feel his companion's eyes following your moves every so often. you try your best to ignore it, the way his eyes carry a pressure that drills into your skull.

it's 8:07 at night when oda gets a call. you aren't eavesdropping, but you don't miss the furrow of his brows and the vacancy that passes through his eyes. he'd probably leave soon. you purse your lips; might as well close once these two leave. they came in half an hour ago, and not a single soul had even passed out the door since.

sure enough, oda stands. he fishes around in his wallet for a crisp bill— another reason why he was your favourite regular, his tips never fell short— and gives you a polite, tight-lipped smile. the mystery boy follows suit. he doesn't spare you a glance, though, not until oda halts at the door as if something's just occurred to him. he turns back to the counter and calls your name. you look up from where you were wiping down some ancient appliances. "everything okay?"

he nods, and his head involuntarily falls to the side inquisitively. "how are you getting home tonight?"

you grimace. "i'm walking."

oda and the mystery boy exchange a look. you presume it's the heavy rain they're concerned about, so you pipe back in: "it's okay, though! i have a spare coat in the back. i think."

the boy gives you another look. like you're an idiot, like he knows something you don't. you'd wonder what was going on, but that was likely above your pay grade.

oda turns back to his companion. you hear them exchange words quietly, quiet enough to be drowned out by the rain still pouring outside. they are discussing far too intensely for it to be just about the rain. at the end of the spirited conversation, oda looks resolved, and the boy looks.. upset? disgruntled? he looks more his age, that's for sure. younger, even, like a petulant child. you would laugh if you weren't so on edge.

something is off. it's like the air in the shop has suddenly grown heavier by a hundred tons. it's suffocating. you are more excited than usual to close early and go home once these two finally make their exit. but then the boy sits back down. you fight the frown growing on your face.

oda is still standing. he takes the umbrella by the door and taps it against the entrance matt. clear flecks of rainwater fall down into the fabric like a small scale version of the downpour outside. he turns back to the boy, and then swivels to face you with a small, polite smile. "thank you for the drink. i hope you don't mind that my friend dazai is staying here for a while to avoid the rain."

you want to die. staying at your place of work for the next few hours until the official closing did not seem like an ideal night. mentally you mourn the night you planned to have when you got home early; goodbye to your cozy blanket, and warm bed, and movie and popcorn. but making coffee isn't that hard and you're basically paid to be nice and stay up late, so you just smile back and say, "no problem! we close at 10, and it'll probably have calmed down by then. probably."

oda nods and walks back out the door. misty meows at his heels, until he's out from under the overhang and gone from sight. faintly, you can see his silhouette blue-lit beneath streetlights, only if you squint. after a few beats, even the shadow of the man is gone.

you slump back down onto the counter, and then slide back up because you'd just cleaned it and now you'd have to do it again. a resigned sigh escapes past your lips, and you look up to see that the boy is looking at you. what was his name again? dazai? you somehow manage a nice-enough smile, looking back into his hollow eyes. he remains expressionless; it unnerves you, like a glass of cold water down your back. awkwardly, you begin, "do you... want anything to drink now? or eat? i'm going to have to throw all these out soon."

his heavy stare leaves you for only a second as you gesture vaguely to the display case of pastries. he looks like he considers it for a second before he smiles and says, "a chocolate croissant seems good!"

it's uncanny, the way the hollows of his eyes misalign with the tone of his voice. he sounds happy. he sounds young. but the way his joy is displayed is strange. it's a mirror. like he's only watched other people be kind and learned to imitate. as if he's pretending to be human. you can't look into his eyes anymore. instead, you turn to warm up the pastry without words.

when you move to bring the pastry to his table, you find dazai surveying the glass door, as if he is mesmerised by the rain still falling in heavy torrents. your plan is, originally, to slide the treat in front of him, smile and say nothing, and speedwalk away back to the counter and pretend to be busy cleaning until the stranger either a), leaves, or b), the rain stops and you can get out of here. however, it seems that misty has other plans. in a motion that you're sure she intends to be a show of affection and not a ploy to humiliate you, she runs in front of your legs and headbutts your ankle, causing you to trip over. you land with a less-than-gracious huff, and barely manage to pull yourself up from your stomach to your knees before you feel dazai's eyes back on you.

there is a small smile on his face, that creases his visible eye. you frown ruefully, and move to rise and apologize for the disruption. but to your surprise, he stands to help you up. his extended hand is slim. he has thin fingers, like wire, and a wrist wrapped in fresh, white bandages that show through his white button-down. his hands are just as cold as they look.

"graceful," he comments as he pulls you up. you purse your lips, choosing to ignore his comment.

"i'm sorry. i'll remake your food."

he considers you for a moment, looking you up and down. suddenly, you feel very seen. in a strange, unfamiliar way. you hope your apron isn't askew or messy. you hope you don't look as frazzled as you feel. why do you hope that?

"no worries!" and thank god he says that, because you truly are not in the mood to be doing much of anything. but you ask the obligatory, 'are you sure?' to which he just says, 'i'm sure,' so the whole conversation was redundant, really. shifting back to behind the counter, you begin to clean out the display case. and you're really finding yourself in a cleaning flow until dazai's voice breaks through your haze. he says your name. you're confused as to how he knows your name, until you realise you wear a nametag, and then you're just a little embarrassed as you reply, "yes?"

"does oda come here often?"

you glance up at him while wiping a shelf with a rag. he's not looking at you, rather staring back out into the rain. misty is approaching his table. she's usually shy; you wonder if she will let him pet her.

"often enough. he's usually here once or twice a week. never usually this late, though."

at your response, you see out of the corner of your eye as dazai shifts to face you, transfixed on the methodical motions of your hands cleansing the mess of the counter. he hums, "really?"

"yeah. he's one of my favourite regulars." and you almost leave it at that but your curiosity gets the better of you, and you ask, "what are you both doing out here at this time, anyways?"

dazai considers you. then he turns back away with a ghost of a smile. "business calls."

you can't help the look that crosses your face. what a tasteless answer. so dramatic. and then, something clicks. you blink. your area was under port mafia protection and recently, a rival group has been posing threats to it. it's never affected you, always in the western district of your area, so you've never really paid it much mind. you blink. so, this boy was affiliated with those groups. either the mafia or the rebels, but you're inclined to believe that it's the former because of his crypticness and the sheer amount of black he wears. (you're honestly a little surprised you didn't clock this sooner. no normal people dress like that.) your neurons are firing at a rapid pace, making connections. so... was oda in the port mafia too? your eye twitches. you have been serving a mafioso black coffee and almond muffins for months without knowing.

when you finally look back at dazai, he's watching you again. there's something like curiosity painting his expression, more than you've seen from the boy since he walked in. you're maybe perhaps a little shellshocked so all you can manage to ask is, "am i in trouble?"

he laughs an echoey, hollow laugh. you're embarrassed but also a little indignant because you think you have a right to know, maybe. "you haven't done anything. as long as i'm here you'll be fine."

your eye twitches again.

"so i am in trouble, then."

dazai frowns. "you have such little faith."

for a split-second you forget that he is a member of the most dangerous organization in all of yokohama and not just a boy your age, as you retort, "it's hard to have trust when the person left in charge of my safety looks like he weighs the same as my cat."

misty meows as if she understands you. dazai blinks. you blink back, before adding a tasteful, albeit a little uncomfortable, "with all due respect. sir."

and he smiles. it's a familiar one. faint smile lines appear, his left cheek creases deeply enough to dimple. it's a real, earnest smile. he looks young and alive like the boys at your school. he's cute, almost. you can't help but smile back, just a little. suddenly, you're thinking about his hand again, and how it felt in yours. you turn away with a light exhale and busy yourself with wiping down cases again.

"oda told me that he 'appreciated your sardonicism,'" dazai muses, "and i didn't know what he meant until now."

you turn the sink on and begin to sponge down various mugs. "thank you, i think."

"you're welcome."

menial conversation follows. dazai asks about your work, and you're glad he chose this topic, because really, you could complain about this establishment for hours if someone gave you the opportunity. he listens intently as you talk about your coworkers and manager, the abysmal pay, and the ghastly sanitary standards of the place. to this topic, dazai glances around and questions you.

"maybe you're a hypochondriac," he says, "it looks clean enough to me."

you stare at him, hands still in the sink, covered in suds. you blink. was he blind?

you're about to respond, when the door opens. you glance at the clock; 9:48. twelve minutes before closing. you're about to try and muster up the last of your energy to be the best barista you can be before dazai speaks first. "oda. you're back early."

thank god it's oda. you look up to see misty run to him purring, as he puts his umbrella down. "we finished up the..." he glances carefully up to you, "business early."

dazai waves a hand dismissively. "they know."

oda raises his eyebrows and looks at you. "you do?"

"i do," you affirm, "you keep less-than-subtle company."

"hey!"

you and oda both ignore dazai. the taller man addresses you instead, "then you should know that it's safe to go out for tonight. and the rain is stopping, too."

you exhale. it'd been easy to ignore how stressed you were about the 'dangerous situation' that you'd been told nothing about happening right outside your place of work. and then, it clicks; dazai was distracting you from all that on purpose with his torrent of questions. you look back at him. he simply smiles.

oda speaks again. "i'll be back tomorrow morning to check on things. get home safe."

turning to dazai, he states, "the car is waiting outside. take the umbrella."

his departure leaves three people in the shop, like it's been for the past hour; you, dazai, and misty the cat. so, two people, you guess. and you can't help the twinge of sorrow that makes itself known inside your chest at the fact that this may be the first and last night that you see him. the only thing you can say is, "it was nice to meet you, dazai."

he stands. misty makes a cat noise. he meets your eyes and there is something less than hollowness there. his smile seems more real than before.

"you'll see me again," he almost promises, as if he could read your mind.

"good," is all you have time to reply, before he is out the door. you bite the inside of your cheek to restrain the grin that is breaking out from across your face, "good."

flowers chosen: pink camellia & forget-me-not . . longing for you & don't forget me

❊ send a request! ❊ 5k masterlist ❊ event info ❊

#i have not touched bsd in so long i am sorry ..#dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd #reader insert #mitsies 5k #insp by “a night to remember” by laufey & bea <3 #this was gonna be longer and more dramatic but i had to cut it off bc too long!

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scarlettromanov · 1 year

Text

Business as Unusual

summary: You have always been one of Wanda's favorite employees. You will do anything she asks. What happens when her wife finds out? What happens when you find out the secrets of the company?

pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanov x Reader

word count: 7.7k

warnings(18+only): brief mentioning of Steve Rogers; eventual kate bishop; CEO! Wanda Maximoff; Brief mentioning of Stephen strange; Jealousy; Dom/sub; Domestic Fluff; Eventual Smut; Hurt/Comfort; Childhood Trauma; Mob Boss Natasha Romanov; Smoking; Food; Caffeine Addiction; mention of drugs; Alcohol; Mentions of Violence; mob wife Wanda Maximoff; Angst; NO CHEATING!; all parties communicate; brief Stephen strange slander

Chapter One: The Fall

You were definitely going to lose your job today. You wished that you could say that this was the first time running this late to work, but that would be a bold face lie. To be fair it wasn’t ever due to general laziness, or lack of concern for your job security. The public transport into the suburbs from the city never quite arrived on time. Not to say that you couldn’t just drive to work, but the lack of owning an automobile created a whole slew of additional issues. Your prized water bottle thwacks hard against the back of your thighs, creating additional bruises, as you sprint down the sidewalk. It clangs with every step you take. It was a prize possession of yours. A treat to yourself for landing the job at R&M Industries just two years prior. A purchase based on the fact that you would have to take the train into the suburbs, and your ex-girlfriend's constant pestering that you didn't drink enough water. Only two more blocks until you are safely to the office. Hopefully your boss, Mr. Rogers, is in the scheduled staff meeting, and doesn’t notice that you are 15 minutes late.

Crossing the intersection, the small pedestrian sign starts to count backward from 10 indicating that you will have to wait another few minutes to get across the street. You cannot afford another moment. Taking a deep breath you make a short dash across the street. Barely beating the pedestrian countdown clock. The weight of your backpack slamming into your back with every step. You do your best to not wince as the straps dig further into your bony shoulders. A piercing stab in your lungs continues to burn with each inhale. Taking a mental note that you should hit your inhaler once you are at your desk, you trudge forward.

Yet, as you are about to step up onto the sidewalk you feel your legs buckle and collapse beneath you, and you stumble (rather ungracefully) to the ground. The thin skin of your chin makes direct contact with the concrete of the sidewalk. Your teeth grind together, and you know that you’re bleeding before you can even register the embarrassment. Tear pool in the corners of your eyes. Blinking back the impending tears, you stare down at the palms of your hands, which are pretty scrapped up, but barely bleeding. So much for getting to the office at least 15 minutes late. You needed to get inside without causing any kind of commotion. Each entrance to the building had a secretary close by. Fists pressing against your eyes in frustration; you can feel the impending sob building in your chest.

“Fucking Idiot,” You mutter as you try to find your way back to a standing position. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, like your old therapist told you to do when your anxiety got the better of you. When you open your eyes again you take a moment to inspect the damage of your fall, and notice that your water bottle has completely fallen off its chain, nowhere to be found. Screaming internal profanities you blink back a round of fresh tears. Crying at the office was not like you. Crying was meant for the depths of your apartment. Solitude was the only place that such a shameful emotion could come alive. This was no condition to enter a work day with.

Nothing had gone right this morning. The hot water went, your cell phone didn’t charge, the train was late, and now this. On your knees in the middle of the sidewalk you try to pull it together once again. You couldn’t afford to miss a day of work. You're catastrophizing again, you think to yourself. “ Find the positives in the situation, Y/N, there is always a silver lining.” The therapist's advice rings in your ears. It must be a real fucking small silver line, you think, trying to push out his condescending advice.

“Y/N?” A warm husky voice asks. Looking up, a rush of realization falls over you. Your gaze is met with green eyes, which are wide with alarm.

“Ms. Maximoff!- I am so sorry I am late! I-” She cuts you off by crouching down to your level. If you hadn’t been sitting in your own shame, you probably would have been impressed with Wanda’s ability to crouch in heels. Her power suit of the day was a deep burgundy.

“Your face is covered in blood, Y/N.” Your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Looking down at your hands you spin the ring on your middle finger. Feeling like a little kid who fell off their bicycle.

“Oh, Yeah that. It’s nothing.” You say with a failed attempt at a laugh. Unfortunately your laugh has an air of hysterics in it. You scramble, trying to get to your feet. Wanda watches you. Her eyebrows knit together in disapproval. That’s when you can taste the blood in your mouth. The coppery metallic dances its way across your tongue. You grimace, and Wanda notices. Swiftly she slides the straps of your backpack off your shoulders, and you let her. Stunned at the touch from the older woman. She slings your pack over one of her shoulders with ease. Silently, you accept her assistance, thankful to not have the straps digging into your shoulders anymore.

“At least let me help you.” Wanda says with a kind smile.

“I’m sorry. I am probably making you late to the staff meeting,” She puts up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

“You’re not the only one who’s running late, Ms. Y/L/N, and honestly,” Wanda smirks looking down at you playfully, “between you and me, It’s Mr. Strange’s turn to present this month and well.” She feigns a yawn. You bite back a giggle. Wanda’s nose scrunches in the way it does when she’s genuinely happy. This is why you’d always enjoyed being around Wanda. She was fierce, and led with an iron fist, but there was a playfulness about her that came out whenever you two were alone. Secretly, you were glad that she found you.

“Let’s get you inside. I think Yelena has a first aid kit in her office,

Wanda carries your backpack with ease as the two of you make your way up the two flights of steps to Yelena Belenova’s office. As you rounded the corner you notice that Yelena is nowhere in sight, but Wanda lets herself in without hesitation. She places your backpack on Yelena’s desk. Nervously you stand in the doorway to Yelena’s office. Wringing your hands together behind your back. Yelena was a friend of Wanda’s, you knew this. Yelena was also the head of her department, and more importantly she was COO of the company. But what held the most importance was that Yelena was Wanda’s sister in-law. Wanda had privileges as CEO, and as the Executive Chairwoman’s wife. Since starting with the company two years prior there had been an unspoken rule of stay out of an office unless invited, and do not speak without being spoken to. As a people pleaser with a need to avoid conflict at all costs… These rules were easy to follow.

Wanda doesn’t really notice that you are hovering in the doorway until she’s rummaging through Yelena’s filing cabinets behind her desk. She pulls out box after box of microwavable Kraft Mac and Cheese. There had to be at least six in her desk drawer alone. You wonder how Yelena stayed so fit when her breakfast every morning was espresso and a cup of Microwavable Mac and Cheese.

“Always so messy,” Wanda mutters to herself in disapproval.

For a moment she looks up at you. The corner’s of her mouth turning up the tiniest bit as she stares at you in the doorway like an obedient child. She plucks the medium sized box red and white from the cabinet. Holding the first aid kit in her left hand, she pulls your backpack back over her right shoulder. Wanda places a reassuring hand on your shoulder leading you away from Yelena’s office.

“C’mon, let’s head up to my office so we can get you cleaned up,”

Wanda and you make your way to the elevators, and take it to the 6th floor. Her arm stayed draped across your shoulders. It feels reassuring to have someone holding you so close. You can’t remember the last time someone held you this close. You allow yourself to bask in the feeling for just a moment. But when the elevator chimes, and the doors open, Wanda’s arm pulls away as she gestures for you to lead the way. Her secretary quickly hangs up her cell phone, and stands to greet us. She smiles kindly at Wanda, her brown eyes filled with warmth.

“Ms. Maximoff, Good Morning.” She turns her smile to you, and it falters as she takes in the state of my face. Your stomach sinks as you cannot recall her name. Despite being with the company for over two years now… you kept a pretty low profile. The sinking feeling makes you squirm under her gaze. Her curly hair pulled into a low bun, with a few strands hanging loose in her face.

“Y/N, are you alright?” You nod your head, tearing your gaze away from the girl. Cheeks blazing from the unwanted attention. Suddenly the floor has captured all of your attention with the way you stared down at it.

“MJ, Y/N had quite the fall on her way into the office this morning. If anyone calls wondering where I am tell them that Y/N and I are in a meeting,”

“Will do, Ms. Maximoff. Is there anything I can get for you?”

“I’ll have my usual, Y/N?” Wanda looks down at you expectantly. She gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“B-black coffee please,” Your voice sounds small, and you grimace at your nervous stutter. It reminds you of all the times your father forced you to order my own food at a restaurant. Claiming that a stutter would resolve itself if you could only “gain a fucking backbone.” You divert your gaze to the floor again, studying the patterns in the linoleum tile.

“And a bottle of water for Y/N. Her water bottle appears to have gone missing,” Heart springing to life in your chest at the small detail that Wanda noticed. Wanda opens the door to her office, and ushers you inside with a delicate hand on the small of your back.

You had been inside Wanda’s office before, briefly, the day Natasha hired you. Natasha sat opposite of you at Wanda’s desk. Since Natasha primarily worked remote, and when she came into the office she would work in Wanda’s office. Her wife didn’t seem to mind. You think back to that day as you sit on the sofa in Wanda’s large office. The room is spotless, and filled with plants. Wanda sat down across from you, perched on the coffee table. She opens the medium sized first aid kit, and pulls out bandages and antiseptic. At this point the blood in your mouth had stopped flowing, but the bitter taste lingered.

“I can do this. I-I’m sorry. You probably have so much to do, and I am just eating up your time.” You reach forward to take the first aid kit from Wanda’s lap. Her hands still, and she tilts her head with a smile on her face as she looks up at you.

“Y/N if you apologize to me one more time,” Wanda warns with a stern tone, her Sokovian accent leaking through. Your mouth snaps shut. Wanda hums approvingly, and reaches for your hand, flipping it palm up. She rests your hand gently in her lap, and begins to dab antiseptic over the scrape. It burns, and you suck in air between gritted teeth.

“Now, tell me,” She says as she puts antibiotic ointment over a bandage, “Is there a reason that you are late again?” She smoothes the bandage over the wound. Her thumbs smooth the sealant of the bandage. You purse your lips, trying to think of the right words. Shame flooding your thoughts. She notices you hesitating, and squeezes your knee with her free hand.

“You are not in trouble, Y/N. You can tell me,” Her voice is sweet, and her gaze bores into yours. Taking a deep breath, mustering up the courage to tell Wanda your reasoning.

“I don’t have a car and I live in the city so the train runs late most of the time.” The words began to rush out of you, “And I know, I know! I could learn to drive, but I live alone and don’t have anyone to teach me, and cars are expensive, and…” Your voice comes out high pitched and nearly frantic. You feel your blush deepen as you sit there not wanting to admit a deep rooted fear of driving to your boss. Wanda rubs small circles into your knee with her thumb, it’s reassuring.

“And?” She urges you to go on, your eyes meeting again.

“I’m scared to drive,”You whisper, hanging your head, looking anywhere but her eyes. You can feel her gaze burning into you.

“That’s a valid fear, sweetheart. Many people have a fear of driving. There’s no need to be embarrassed.” You think she can tell that you desperately want her to drop the subject. In that moment there was nothing more that you wanted than the floor to open and swallow you whole. The vulnerability left you feeling weak. Wanda opens her mouth to say more, but a knock on the door interrupts her. Mentally you thank the universe for the interruption.

“Ms. Maximoff, I have yours and Y/N’s drinks.” MJ’s voice announces on the other side of the office door. Wanda finishes up your other hand, and says

“Come in MJ,” Wanda’s voice is lighthearted. Wanda pushes down on her knees as she stands up. MJ enters Wanda’s office, placing the tray on the coffee table.

“Your hands look much better, Y/N!” She smiles at you kindly. You delicately smile, and motioned to Wanda,

“Who knew Ms. Maximoff was a business woman AND a nurse,” you giggle, and MJ joined in. You mentally take note that you should ask MJ to grab a drink sometime. God knows did you need more friends. You and MJ smile at each other as Wanda rolls her eyes.

“Please- I’ve always wanted to be a mother,” She brushes her long strawberry blonde hair over her shoulder, “Just have that instinct I guess,” Your breath hitches as she smiles at you again, her nose scrunching the way it does which tells you she means it. MJ agrees before turning to Wanda,

“Ms. Romanov just called, and she is on her way to the office. Shall I call the Italian place around the corner and reserve a table for you for lunch?” Wanda doesn’t hesitate before responding,

“Yes, please tell Dominic to reserve our usual table.” MJ nods her head, and exits the room without another word. Wanda opens the bottle of water on the tray, and hands it to you,

“Drink, honey. You lost quite a bit of blood.” Nodding you bring the bottle to your lips, and take a sip. The cool water sloshes around in your mouth, clearing out the residue of dried blood lingering on your taste buds.

“Very good, Y/N,” Wanda’s voice is gentle as she gets back to work preparing to clean your face. She brings a warm wet cloth to your chin, assuring that the wound is free of any bacteria. Wanda’s closeness has your face burning. You hear every breath she takes with her face a couple of inches from your own. Wanda clearly does not mind the close proximity of your faces. Why would she be bothered? Like she said, she has a maternal instinct about her.

She is just helping you since you’re an employee, and she probably doesn’t want to get sued or something for falling on company property? You say to yourself over and over again.

“This is going to hurt again, be brave for me,” Wanda says with a softness that creates knots in your stomach. The antiseptic burns, and you wince again as Wanda dabs it onto the wound.

“More than halfway there, sweetheart.”

She talks you through the process, as she grabs the final bandage from the coffee table. Like before she adds the antibiotic ointment to the bandage, and smoothes it against the wound on your chin. Wanda’s hands cradling your face. The coolness of her rings feels amazing against the heated flush of your face.

“There we go, all done!” She runs her thumb over your cheek bone, and smiles down at you, before adding, “You did so good for me,” Little does Wanda know that your stomach does a backflip at her words. You beam under her praise. Wanda hums and releases your face. Like in the elevator, the feeling of instant loss falls over you from the lack of her touch. Your body craves her warmth. Were you really this touch starved that you would ache for your married bosses touch? Wanda pats your knee before walking over to her desk.

“Well I guess I should get to work, Thank you again Ms. Maximoff-” Wanda, who was thumbing through a stack of papers on her desk, looks at you. She cocks an eyebrow.

“Wanda, Y/N.” You swallow dryly. You’d lost count of how many times that you blushed in front of her today, praying that she mistook it for shyness.

“Wanda, thank you for everything, but I should be getting back down to my desk.” Wanda sets the stack of papers back down, and leans back against her own desk. She smiles, crossing her arms across her chest. You stand feeling her gaze on you again, hands behind your back in their usual position, fingers squeezing together.

“That won’t be necessary. I am ordering a car to take you home. Your assignment today will be to rest. Go home, read a book, take a nap, take a walk in the sunshine, and return back here, to my office at 9am for your next assignment.” You can not comprehend what she is saying. Take the rest of the day off? That might be all well and good for someone that could afford groceries, but you lived off of Instant Noodles and Peanut Butter toast.

“Wanda, I really need to work. I desperately need the money. I-” She cuts you off with the stern tilt of her head, before she continues,

“As far as anyone is concerned, you were here today. You were running errands for me, and I will see to it that Mr. Rogers knows that you work directly for me now.” Her eyes remained on you, cocking another eyebrow, as if to say, ‘ Is that understood ?’ You nod your head, indicating that, yes you understood. Her words were loud and clear. Yes you would work for her, and yes you would go home, go for a walk, take a nap, and return back to her well rested. Wanda’s stern expression melts into a more gentle one.

“Good girl, now have a seat while I call you a car,” Without another word you sit back down on the couch, and pull out your phone. Scrolling aimlessly through Instagram. Trying to desperately distract yourself from the woman across the room. Wanda calls the car, and when it arrives she helps you put your backpack on. Before you go you turn to thank her for all of her help today, but the words don’t find your lips. Her hands begin to fiddle with the straps of your backpack. The sagging pressure of your belongings lifts. Instantly you feel the digging of the straps on your shoulders lessen. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“There you go, that’s been driving me nuts. We can’t have you throwing out your back now can we?” Wanda giggles before spinning you around guiding you to the door. She opens it for you. Your voice finally finds your lips again.

“Wanda, I just wanted to Thank y-” She doesn’t let you finish the sentence.

“Get home safe, Y/N. Remember the assignment I gave you. I expect to hear all about it tomorrow,” She winks, and her door closes. You stand there like a deer in headlights. You are pretty sure you stand there for a solid minute before your brain catches up again. MJ giggles from her desk.

“She is really something,” Your voice is strained. MJ cracks up, nearly doubling over in her chair. She looks up at you, giving you a wink.

“Whatever that something is, I think you like it,” You roll your eyes with a smile, secretly agreeing with her.

“See you tomorrow,” You throw her the peace sign before hitting the button for the elevator.

“Bright and Early!” MJ nearly shouts as the doors open. You step inside, and the doors close.

“Bright and Early,” You say to yourself as the elevator brings you down to the car Wanda ordered for you. Your fingers run up and down the straps of your backpack. The way her fingers adjusted the straps replaying in your mind.

#wanda maximoff #natasha romanov #wandanat #wandanat x reader #mommy wanda #mob au #top!wanda #wanda x f!reader #natasha x fem!reader #wanda maximilf #wanda x natasha #wanda x y/n #natasha x y/n #wandanat x y/n #wandanat x you

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divine-misfortune · 5 months

Text

Feminization but it's an act of love, not a play at humiliation.

Making Swiss know that he's handsome as a boy, of course he is, absolutely perfect, but Rain wants him to know he's just as lovely when he's being a pretty girl for him.

Taking the day to pamper Swiss, make him really live in the experience of being treated like a princess. Paints his nails, shaves him smooth (which takes longer than either of them really anticipated), does his makeup, oh Rain takes such good care of him. Doesn't make Swiss lift a finger, even goes as far as to dress Swiss himself. Oh Rain takes great pleasure in being the one to roll those stockings up his muscular legs, chuckling as he snaps the elastic against his thigh.

And when all the hard work is done, Rain sits him at the edge of his bed facing the mirror. Drapes himself over his back, arms around his neck, nuzzling sweetly against his cheek as he coos over the pretty girl he is. Swiss, used to a much harsher version of Rain, feels far more embarrassed over kindness than he ever has from his cruelty (and that's saying something). When his eyes shift away from the mirror, Rain tsks at him and with a hand under his jaw guides him back.

"Want you to look at yourself." He kisses at his temple and noses into his hair, breath close to his ear. "See how nice you look for me, always so rugged and handsome but now you're-"

"Pretty..." Swiss exhales as he looks at himself and the way his knees draw together. His hands are folded in his lap, sitting respectfully as an excuse to press down against his cock already beginning to fatten up against its lacy confines. The word sent something sharp and hot zipping down his spine, excitement, nerves, anticipation.

"Mm, that's right...Knew you could be pretty too, absolutely beautiful babygirl."

The petname makes Swiss' eyes go wide, gold irises darkening.

Rain smiles coyly as he runs his hand flat along the curves of his body, over the simple white dress he'd picked out, to settle over the mutli ghoul's folded hands. Adding to the pressure, Swiss' red painted lips parting to curse as he ultimately melts into Rain's embrace.

"Gonna make the perfect pillow princess, I know you are." He purrs as Swiss' hands give way to him, slowly beginning to stroke the length of his cock through lace and cotton. It's enough to have Swiss' eyes fluttering as he nods weakly. "Is that what my sweet girl wants?"

"Fuck...Rain, please." Swiss almost tries to buck upwards, greedily find a way to fuck into his fist despite the layers between his dick and Rain's hand.

"You know how to ask for it, love. Use your words, just like I taught you."

Visibly hesitating, Rain gives his shaft a little squeeze and Swiss can't help the sad warbled sound of need that escapes him or the pearl of pre starting to form a wet spot on the dress. His gaze fixes on the slow almost torturous way Rain strokes him, lips left parted as his brain struggles to keep up. The little pressure of his thumb dragging over the head of his cock, only adding to the damp patch, is the last little bit of encouragement needed to make Swiss fold.

"Please, please fuck my cunt, sir...I've been a good girl."

Well, the blood rushed from Rain's head so fast he nearly blacked out.

#this ran away from me.........idk #anyways #void rambles #spicy tag #rain ghoul #swiss ghoul #multi ghoul #nameless ghouls #rulti #rain/swiss #cw feminization

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handsoffmyscarfsherlock · 1 year

Note

Hello there! I’m desperately craving some sweet comfort from Tanjiro and I’d like to share an idea with you!

If this isn’t something you’re comfortable writing with, that’s totally alright! Feel free to delete if you don’t want to write this!

Imagining a scenario of reader being protected by Tanjiro from someone or a group of guys who just cannot take the hint that she wants nothing to do with them! Whether or not Tanjiro and reader are together romantically or if this leads to a love confession is completely up to you! I’m just desperately in need for some Protective!Tanjiro. ❤️

Again, no pressure for this ask!

If it’s alright, I’d love to be your 🫧 Anon!

Wishing you a good day/night!

Hello there Anon! I'm so sorry that it took so long. Nursing school is a tough gig but in celebration of passing a class, here's a story for you! I hope you enjoy :)

A big thanks always to the best ever, @snowflakeanimelover

Flowers

Tanjiro Kamado x Female!Slayer Reader

Summary: You find yourself thinking about how lucky you are to be with your boyfriend, Tanjiro. When some guys try to mess around with you, your protective boyfriend Tanjiro is there to help you.

Warnings: Kinda icky/creepy behavior and fluff

You find that the beautiful weather never lasts long. Maybe you are cursed or something but the rain seems to follow you. The days and nights of rain dampen your mood, the wet air sucking the life out of you with every raindrop that hits your face. It was one thing having to move from place to place between missions but it was another to have to do it in the rain. At least you had your boyfriend, Tanjiro. He was so patient, knowing you get annoyed with the rain. He would make sure you had a covering even if it meant him taking off bits of his clothing to protect you. He made everything better.

“Y/n! Are you excited about the new mission?” His bubbly voice takes you out of your thoughts.

You force out a weak smile, “It should be fun?” Burgundy eyes squint at your response. Great job, he knows you’re upset. As you feel yourself go back into your head you feel something warm grasping your hand. Looking down you see his hand entwined in yours.

“I know you don’t like the rain, I’m sorry.” His thumb is rubbing circles on the top of your hand. The thoughts slowly fade in your mind, like clouds parting in the sky. You give a genuine smile in response.

He’s always doing things to make you smile. That’s just one of the reasons why you love him. Clearing your throat you whisper, “Thank you, Tanjiro.” Tanjiro beams a sunshine smile and you can feel the warmth spread through your body. His nose twitches suddenly as he looks away from you, distracted. He quickly lets go of your hand and runs off into the forest.

“Tanjiro! Where are you going?” You yell out to him. Him and his nose. Before you could start up a jog to find him you feel someone behind you. The thumping in your chest radiates through your whole body as you try to turn around. Hands cover your eyes.

“Shh, it’s just me, angel,” Tanjiro’s sweet voice enters your ears, “I have something for you.” He takes his hands away from your eyes, now feeling the raindrops hit your lashes. You see him holding his hands out, one covering the other. You raise an eyebrow in question.

A deep chuckle reverberated from his chest, “Open it.” You roll your eyes and open his hands. Despite the rain hitting his hands, you see a beautiful flower inside. Your heart flutters at the gesture. Taking it out of his hand he pushes your hair aside to rest the stem behind your ear.

“A beautiful flower, for my flower.” You flush pink at his kind words, feeling the heat make its way down your neck. He cradles your face and rests his forehead against yours. “I know the flower is pretty,” his breath hot against your face, “But you’re the prettiest flower I’ll ever encounter.” You see his eyes glance down to your lips. You move before he does, pressing a damp kiss to his lips. He smiles into it before returning it. His lips mold to yours perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle fitting together.

“‘C’mon,” you say as you pull out of the kiss, “Let’s get out of this rain.”

The two of you (and Nezuko in her box) make your way to the closest town. It was moderately sized with a variety of different stands and buildings. Parking you under the nearest covered area, Tanjiro looks around. “Ok, I’ll find us someplace to stay and you stay right here, out of the rain.” He gives you another beaming smile and presses a kiss to your forehead before walking away. You take a moment to observe the town. It was quaint, almost reminding you of home. Turning to observe the stand you were in front of you hear some scuffling behind you. Noticing some men around you, you put a hand on the top of your sword.

Demons are scary but men are scarier.

Keeping your senses alert you continue to browse, looking for a little trinket for Nezuko.

“Hey! You’re a demon slayer, right?” A voice calls out, breaking the silence. You turn to meet the voice, seeing a man around your age.

You nod, “Yes, I am. Can I help you with anything?” You ask out of habit, always wanting to get information from the locals for missions. He looks around and whistles. It’s sharp and loud and gets the attention of the men around him. They move closer to him. You shift uncomfortably in your place, trying to give them the benefit of the doubt.

The main man crosses his arms, “Yeah, I think there could be a demon around here.” You try to read him, his body language, but nothing sticks out yet. “Right?” He asks the other men. There’s immediately a reply of agreement and nods.

“Alright, where do you think this is happening? Any specific locations of interest? We’ll make sure to investigate-”

“Why don’t we just show you?” The man had cut you off. You glance around and see the men snickering and grinning at you. There are five of them and one of me. This isn’t the most unbalanced it’s ever been, just breathe. Deescalate.

You take a step backward, “No, I’m sorry. It’s a bit late for that. Why don’t my partner and I meet you in the morning?” Strike one. The men did not like that response. They all move forward, essentially cornering you against the table.

The main man, with his ugly sneer and ugly eyes, grabs your wrist. “We only want to give you a nice welcome, just thanks for the work you’ll do for us,” he yanks you toward him, “Right guys?” The rest of the men voice agreement. You try to yank your arm out of his grip, strike two.

I can flip him in a heartbeat, I can take him down. Give him a warning.

“Let me go, now.” Your voice is strong and unyielding. They all just laugh at your response. Strike three.

Licking his lips, “Well, if you say so, princess.” He throws you into the rain and you catch yourself before almost face-planting onto the gravel road. They move toward you but all you could notice was the rain hitting your body. You look down and see your flower on the road. The man notices it too, a wolf-like grin crossing his face before bringing his foot down on it, crushing the flower until there was nothing left.

Your stomach feels like it’s in your chest. Demons are scary but men are scarier. Your mother’s voice rings in your head.

“Get away from me, now!” You yell at them, spitting with anger.

They don’t listen.

What should I do? I can’t hurt them, but I have to defend myself. Thoughts are racing through your mind, trying to sort out the best plan of action. Before you had to decide you hear the sound of gravel moving behind you.

“Leave her alone.”

You whip around and see him. Tanjiro. His normally friendly demeanor was gone. His eyes looked like they could cut a man in half, just by glaring at them. His body immediately moves in front of you, covering you, protecting you from the men.

The man looked him up and down. Trying to measure him up, see if he could take him down. Tanjiro did not move. He had a hand on his sword, ready to move.

“We were only trying to show her around, she was the one who said she was interested!” The man responded, eyes narrowing.

Tanjiro’s body stiffened, veins almost popping out. He cleared his throat, “Stop lying. I can smell your sweat from here. This is what’s going to happen, you leave now, or I have no choice but to defend my girlfriend.”

There’s a silence within the group of men. Tanjiro's voice cuts like a knife, “I wouldn’t make that mistake if I were you.” The main man takes a step forward, testing the waters. Before he could make another move, Tanjiro’s sword is out in front of him, ready. They take one look at him and then run in the other direction, rain obscuring the shape of their bodies.

Tanjiro turns around to face you, but before he can say anything you throw yourself into his body. Arms wrapped around his neck, you cling onto him, tears flowing down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry-” You babble, hands gripping his clothes for dear life.

Tanjiro drops his sword and wraps his arms around you, pulling you close. He strokes your hair, trying to calm you down. After a few minutes, he pulls you away from him. His hands find your cheeks, the warmth of his hands mixing with the rain and tears.

“Look at me, please.” His voice is soft and kind, it still triggers butterflies to go off in your stomach. Your eyes meet his, they look heartbroken. “Y/n, I will never let anyone hurt you. I couldn’t cope with knowing I didn’t do everything I could to save you. I promise to protect you and stand by your side. I'll find flowers to give to you for the rest of our life together.”

Tears flow over, dropping from your eyes without you even blinking. You sniffle, “Tanjiro, I love you.”

He smiles back at you, “I’ll love you forever, there’s nothing that will stop me from loving you. ” His lips ghost yours, sending chills down your spine.

“Let’s get you out of the rain, okay?” Hands entwined, you head towards the inn, the warm feeling filling out your entire body. Heart happy, you continue your journey together knowing that you’ll be loved for the rest of your days in this life and every other life that follows.

#tanjiro x reader #tanjiro kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro kamado #tanjirou demon slayer #demon #tanjiro #demon slayer #tanjiro x you #masterlist #handsoffmyscarfsherlock #tanjiro kamado x reader

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horrorshow · 6 months

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hiiii suzy happy wincest wednesday etc. anyway would sam and dean be into breeding kink and if so who do you imagine would bring it up first 🙂😊

hiiii gabi💖💗💓💞 thank you sm for asking this very important question❤️

they DO have a breeding kink, both of them. sam is the one who brings it up first (accidentally, in the heat of passion, and he's mortified for a sec until he realizes dean practically started drooling when he let that slip, and after that sam's OBSESSED with it), but he never really thought about it before that, while dean has been thinking about it for much much much longer and has been masturbating about it since forever (all dean ever wanted was to be useful and have a family!!!) ((and you just know he heard this kind of talk so often by ugly old men who found him pretty like a girl that some wires got crossed there)) but he never brought it up bc he was a bit shy and embarrassed about it.

its funny bc it got me thinking about condoms and i think sam HATES using condoms, absolutely sours his mood when he has to use one bc when he fucks he FUCKS, he's into it in al its primal feral glory, while dean is much more anal about using condoms in general, if only bc he sleeps around a lot more and has learned to be careful/practical about it, and he only accepts raw when he's in a particularly bad 'who cares' -self-destructive mood. but with SAM??? sam, who's been living in his back pocket since birth?? who he knows every single cold and disease of bc he's the one who wiped sam's nose and took his temperature and stopped any bleeding??? NO WAY they use condoms. they'd both see that extra barrier as an insult. so for dean sam is already an exception in that regard which makes their breeding kink even more special. special privileges and all that🥰🥰 (although sam develops an intense love/hate relationship with the idea of others breeding dean. he'd find it soooo hot but he'd be so jealous, he'd be angrily stripping his meat on a chair in the corner of the room watching dean take load after load that's not his jsfghff)

(why do you think they fought so much in s4 and s8 when 'there was A GIRL???!!!'. dean made him wear a condom again as punishment for cheating bc 'god knows where that thing has been sammy🙄' and kept that act up until sam got so frustrated by imagining all the ways 'benny/etc has been a better brother' that he snapped and started biting or basically withered and died. its just foreplay to them😌)

#and... POST🫡#wincest wednesday #wincest #whatever it is #coffincoitus #reply #i hope you found the right building for your exam today and everyone was impressed by your wits💞

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skywlker-sluvtt · 1 year

Note

Okay Modern Anakin at the bar. Wearing EYELINER

RAHHH I WILL NEVER GET OVER EMO ANI

I lovedddd Life as a House just cause Hayden was a little emo baby. seeing him in eyeliner n shit made me 😩 it honestly pissed me off when he stopped wearing it like it was so hot.

Modern Ani would be so goth and id kill a nun just to be in his vicinity. Now I'm turning this into a whole lot of headcanons for emo anakin.

｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡+.｡ﾟ:;｡+ﾟ+｡::ﾟ｡:.ﾟ｡+｡

➮ anakin just knows he’s a hot emo slut and loves finding people who fuck with it

➮ especially goth girls or boys he doesn’t mind.

➮ he’s also wearing a slutty little crop top showing off his belly button and lower stomach. my fav modern/emo ani headcanon is his piercing obsession. he’s got a nose ring, eyebrow piercing AND one singular nipple piercing. not only would he love getting piercings he loves seeing girls n guys with piercings his favourite are septum rings. mayb a clit piercing

➮ his little emo self loitering around a club/bar with a cocktail while eye fucking strangers cause anakin knows his pretty eyes work wonders on people.

➮ and he never fucking approaches anyone because he’s got people running to him. its a little ego boost for himself knowing he doesn’t even really have to make much effort to get someone. all he’s gotta do is eye fuck.

➮ absolute god at flirting by the way or even just getting a girl flustered. he does that hot thing guys do when they’re hella tall and lean down to hear you 😍 or letting out an extremely hot breathy laugh at something you said.

➮ he lives for praise. though this is literally canon for every kind of anakin ever. emo anakin just needs extra positive affirmation. mainly about his looks. it makes him happy hearing people call him ‘hot’ or ‘beautiful’, especially at a bar scene when someone’s asking to take him home cause he’s so pretty

➮ would also definitely fuck or get fucked in a bar or club toilet because he’s not opposed to it at all.

➮ loves it when a girl rides the fuck out of him in the back of a car. he’d 100% ask a woman to fuck in the back of his shitty car and duh ofc she says yes. but emo ani adores dominant women that want to take control and tell him what a good little emo boy he is.

that's all for now cause i just realised how messy this was sorryyyyy

#emo anakin #fuck me emo boy #anakin skywalker #anakin headcanons

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neopuppy · 19 days

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What makes you like jeno so much apart from his godly looks?

I don’t know him personally so mainly just his looks.

other than that I think he’s funny, and I actually really enjoy his stage presence, its how he caught my attention in the beginning. I like how aggressive/powerful he dances and I’m one of the few hundred that really likes his rap style💀 I dare say…..I like his the most out of everyone in Dream. first time I heard GO I said ‘he sounds like Sehun’ and controversial but I always liked his tone too😂 dont let kpop twt convince you these guys arent talented…..the kpop rapper bar isnt that high lmao.

but yeah mainly his looks, even tho tbh he’s not really my type physically….I tend to like more like lanky/goofy looking(in the face). Jeno’s a bit🤏 sharper/masculine and shorter than what I typically am drawn to.

he is a puppy boy, like big time, and that is something I am also attracted to most of the time. *I* am black cat stereotype, so I think I fall for puppy guys super easily.

I find him very *cute* like one of the best smiles I’ve ever seen, super pretty eyes, nice skin, great nose, etc etc. he’s gorgeous ofc but I think how cute he comes off actually turned me off at first lmao, I was like hmmm……I dont like it! took me some time to get used to and now I cant imagine him not being this awkwardly cute guy that randomly makes sounds and doesn’t seem to understand how attractive he is compared to everyone else in this world.

so yeah, don’t know him like that, and tbh!!! I don’t even think he’s someone I’d vibe with much bc I’m kind of cold/come off mean and a bit reclusive. I do think there is some truth to him possibly doing better with someone more extroverted and that’s just nottttt me lmao. I’m as anti-social as someone can be(if not for the fact that I need to survive and make money). I nearly got voted ‘quietest’ in middle school💀

most of the time you are just physically attracted to someone…..and thats ok!!! in fact…..I get delusional as hell, of course! but when my friends start going on and on about their biases personalities I’m always like ???????? we are not children nor teenagers, lets be level-headed here ladies. we do not know these men! you like him bc you think he’s hot and lowkey would let him blast you into next year, if he’s even capable…..

good thing we have fanfic!!!!!!

#asks

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clementine-writes-things · 1 month

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If you’re comfortable can you write your turn on/kink headcannons for Gotham villains like Edward, Oswald, Victor, Jerome, Jeremiah ect?

POOKIE YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO ASK THIS *rubs hands together deviously* Here we go! Sorry if I left some villains out. There are a LOT of villains and some of them I don't feel comfortable writing sexually about. So, yeah.

Summary: A collection of the Gotham villains and my personal headcanons on what their kinks/turn on's are.

Content Warning: Sexual themes, daddy kink, sir kink, spitting, bondage, SHIT LOAD OF KINKS BASICALLY.

Songs for Inspo (basically just songs I listened to):

TOXIC - YOUNGX777

gecgecgec - 100 gecs

Heavy Metal Lover - Lady Gaga

Read Below Cut!

Oswald Cobblepot:

I got conflicted on this one tbh. I feel like he would be a switch, it really depends on his mood tbh.

He likes vanilla and kinky sex, again it just depends on his mood.

Kinks include: Choking and praising.

I don't think he would be extremely kinky. I know he's pretty crazy, but I feel like he wouldn't want to take that craziness in the bedroom yk?

Turn ons include: calling him Ozzie, kissing him on the tip of his nose, when you laugh, and chokers.

When he sees you do those things or wear those things, he get's really flustered. He's usually very good at repressing his sexual urges, especially when he's busy with something. But sometimes he just needs to...yk...wham bam I love you ma'am.

(he's in your walls)

Victor Zsasz:

Ok. This guy is definitely a top. Like, no doubt about it.

He prefers vanilla over kinky stuff.

The only kinky thing he likes...and it's pretty kinky, is using an unloaded gun as like 'intimidation' with consent of course. He also likes praising a lot. Receiving and giving.

He doesn't really like to have sex often, but he loves giving PDA and stuff.

Turn ons: PDA (bro loves showing you off), when you wear his clothes, when you use one of his guns (even if you're just cleaning it for him or something, if you're holding it bro gets sprung), when you call him Vicky (he hates if anyone else calls him it tho), when you wear eyeliner or paint your nails or wear jewelry of any kind. He thinks it looks so good on you.

(he's so pookie coded! he could murder me in 0.01 seconds)

Barbara Kean:

Guys...don't hate me for this...

I feel like she would be asexual tbh...

I JUST DO OK SHUT UP! I feel like she always makes sexual comments, but deep down she just wants love yk? She doesn't really like/want sex. The most she will ever do is makeout.

I feel like if she ever did have sex, it would be with some she REALLY loved. And it would be like once every year or so. Idk. I just feel like she doesn't really care about sex that much. Does that make her asexual? Idk wtv lol.

She definitely would be a switch though if she WASN'T asexual.

And yes I know she got pregnant stfu this is MY HEADCANON *sobs*

(she's my wife)

Jerome Valeska:

OK OK OK HEAR ME OUT...

Obviously, bro is a sex FIEND.

110% a dom no arguing

He likes to have sex, but he doesn't really think its essential to a relationship. (we love that in men #ilovemenwhocareaboutlovemorethansex)

Even though he's a total unpredictable psychopath, he still likes to make intimacy romantic and passionate.

His kinks include (oh boy..): Choking, praising, degrading, being called sir, making light hearted jokes during sex (i can't explain why. just feel like he'd do that.), edging (the edging memes on tiktok are getting out of hand btw...wdym you edge to flo from progressive like what?) and giving you oral.

His turn ons include: when you call him sir, when you kiss his scars on his face, when you brush his hair (he loves that shit), when you wear his clothes, and when you wear the color blue. dont question it. he just loves it. literally no explanation.

(him when he asks you to wear the color blue)

Jeremiah Valeska:

sorry if this one is weird...i'mma be honest...i dont find jeremiah hot. IM SORRY I KNOW DONT KILL ME AAHHH

he would be a top for sure

i feel like...ok..hear me out...i feel like he would be very nonchalant during sex? ykwim?

I genuinely, full heartedly, FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART, think that this man would be pure vanilla.

Bro is vanilla ice cream at baskin robins.

I'm sorry, but the way he acts in the show is so suave and professional, hes so calm.

I feel like if he DID like a kinky thing, it would only be having rough sex every now and then if he was mad. That's it though. MAYBE, he would like knife play? IDK GUYS IM SORRY.

His turn ons include: calling him Mr. Valeska. that's it. BRO I'M SORRY HE'S JUST SO VANILLA TO ME I CAN'T!!!!! PLEASE DON'T HURT ME!

(he so pale...)

ok, if you're a fan of my page....then you know I saved the best for last. my husband. my pookie. my lil bitch boy.

Edward Nygma (applies to his character in early seasons and the late seasons. I think he's always been kinky lol):

Ok. I wanna start off by saying that I think he is the KINKIEST person in the ENTIRE show. And I'm not just saying that because I love him so much. I've watched the show a bajillion times and i've noticed some things. I'll explain below...

In the episode where he captures Butch and Tabitha, we saw that he bought torture stuff. Normal for Ed. Right? NO CUZ IT WAS FROM A BDSM SEX SHOP LIKE EXCUSE ME?!??!?1? WHY DOES HE KNOW ABOUT THAT STORE?

In another episode, he literally gets TURNED ON by choking Isabella. THEY BANG IT OUT AFTER THAT.

WHEN HE WAS GETTING TEETH PULLED BY SOFIA HE LITERALLY SMILED AND LAUGHED, GROANING THE WHOLE TIME. MF SHOULD HAVE BEEN SCREAMING HELLO?!

THERE IS A WEIRD BDSM SUBPLOT THROUGHOUT THE ENTIRE SHOW ABOUT EDWARD.

Because of this, I think he is the KINKIEST person in the show. Now, here are my headcanons for him...prepare yourself.

Edward is 1000% a top/dom. I don't think he would ever want to be a bottom. Maybe once or twice if he wants to do something new. But he definitely prefers to be on top and in charge.

Like almost everyone else I talked about, he doesn't think sex is important in a relationship. He loves having sex with his lover because it's fun, but he doesn't do it all the time.

ok...kink time...

Kinks include: Bondage, BDSM shit, choking, praising, degrading, spitting, slapping, gun play like Victor (unloaded and with consent), listening to music during sex (he has multiple playlists), dirty talking during sex, dumbification (like he likes to talk down t you during sex if that makes sense), crying during sex (not from pain but from pleasure), orgasm denial (eventually gives it), LOVES foreplay, roleplay, rough sex when pookie is grumpy, being called daddy and sir or even Mr. Nygma or Riddler (anything that boosts his ego basically).

Turn ons: When you call him any of the names listed above, when you wear green/purple, when you wear his clothes, when you wear tank tops (not for your breasts, he loves your collarbones), when you show off your stomach (whether its flat or pudgy Edward LOVES it), when you answer one of his riddles correctly. When you listen to music. It's weird, I know, but he loves how much you love music and he finds it entertaining to watch you sway to the rhythm.

He's also a huge fan of PDA and isn't afraid to show you off. Though, he knows the limits. He would never get too inappropriate in public, he respects your privacy and doesn't want to exploit you in front of people.

Bro knows he makes people's daddy issues act up.

Sometimes his ego gets big during sex or making out or when someone flirts with him.

(all of these headcanons of mine apply to how I write the characters in my fanfics. i apply these headcanons in my writings and make sure to reflect that in how I write them :D)

#fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #gotham #the riddler #edward nygma #writers #dc universe #headcanons #headcanon

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ceph-the-ghost-writer · 4 months

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How about a 24 from your Spotify wrapped drabble? My lucky number <3 and if you're willing to give us a peak of some other characters we didn't have a chance to meet properly yet, that would be most lovely. Say, Mergus or Tilda or Ben?

I apologize for the long wait. Please have some Tilda being sorta cute with Ben as they lounge in bed. (And if you missed it, there's also this snippet featuring Tilda I did last year for Whumptober.)

Spotify Wrapped #24: "Afterglow" by Scandroid

Words: 808

Content Advisory: Sexual themes and banter (nothing explicit depicted), thoughts of cannibalism(?), reference to past murder/violent events

Though Tilda remains awake, the wolf beneath her skin sleeps. Even if it were conscious (alert, aware?), it wouldn’t have had the energy to pace behind its cage of human flesh and bone like usual, ready to escape through the first weak spot it found. Ben has made sure of that.

Tilda closes her eyes, listening to the sedate beat of Ben’s heart directly beneath her ear. Each of his breaths lifts and lowers her as if she were a skiff riding an ocean swell. He’s hot as a furnace wherever their bare bodies touch, brimming with life despite conventional wisdom about vampires. More often than not, Tilda finds she’s the one who’s always cold, as if the wolf has swallowed her core, stealing all warmth for itself. Little about her life since she stole the family curse has followed expectations. That’s not a complaint more often than not.

Ben’s chest hair tickles her cheek as Tilda tilts her head to peer up, up, up at his sleeping face. There’s just so much of him in every direction. (Then again, she’s relatively small, even compared to national averages). She tries to imagine having met him on campus and a smile flickers across her face. His crooked nose and scarred knuckles would’ve made him an outlier among the veneers and surgically-precise symmetry of the country’s elite children. The sleek young men of the rowing and lacrosse teams would’ve scattered before him like jackals wary of a lion. Her smile turns into shaking with silent laughter.

There’s a glimmer of aged whiskey-brown as one of Ben’s eyes cracks open. “What’s the punchline, blondie? Not my performance, hopefully.”

“No. Just wondering if I would’ve gone home with you if we’d met at a party at my university or something.”

Both eyes are alert and fixed on her now. “And? What’s the verdict?”

“In your favor.”

A seismic rumble of satisfaction comes from the depths of his torso. “Groovy.”

“I would’ve left before you woke up, though. Nothing personal.” She’d gone into the majority of sexual encounters simply to feel something. Whether that was wild abandon or disgust hadn’t mattered. Whoever she’d gone to bed (or into a bathroom stall, or backseat of a car, or dark corner of a bar) with had been unwitting sacrifices in a ritual. One that allowed her emotions to rise from the grave and cavort before the sun rose again.

“Ouch. Can’t let a guy have a little pride for even a second, huh?”

“Your ego’s not fragile.” He’s easily among the most generous and easygoing people, human or otherwise, she’s ever met. Even at times when his usual warmth blazed into rage and his smile sharpened to a snarl it’s always been on behalf of his friends, his family. It’s one of the many things she loves about him.

She catches her choice of words under a mental jar to examine later.

Ben slides a hand up her spine and into her hair, massaging her scalp. Rough calluses on his fingers and the heel of his palm make for a pleasant kind of scratchiness. He easily cradles the entire back of her skull. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing compliments once in a while.”

Closing her eyes, Tilda rests her chin on top of her hands to give him a better angle. “Hmm. Well, I wouldn’t dream of leaving now.”

“You do look pretty cozy there.”

“I like listening to you. Especially with all the different turns of phrase you’ve picked up over the years. And you’re funny.”

“So, I’m good in the sack and I could hack it as a clown, is what I’m hearing.”

She considers mentioning that her mouth waters whenever the wolf first catches his scent. That every time she has to stop herself from biting and ripping and digging into the softest parts of him until she can work outwards into chewy muscle and the crunch of bone. Instead, she tells Ben, “You’re okay at baseball, from what I can tell.”

An earthquake of laughter erupts underneath her. Tilda grips Ben’s shoulders to keep from being shaken loose.

“I’ll take it,” he says once the tremors have settled. “Hell, that’s three more things than some people said I’d ever be good for.”

“Really? Not even at fighting?”

“Sweetheart, if I was any good my beak wouldn’t look like God’s hand slipped while slapping me together.”

“You’re a lover, not a fighter then.”

“I got a lot of endurance and know how to take an ass-beating, is what I mean.”

She drags her fingertips over the swell of his chest and down his sides, indenting muscle and fat. Her nails leave faint red trails behind for an instant before they heal. Tilda smiles when he shivers.

“How much endurance?” she asks.

The wolf sleeps, but that doesn’t mean she has to.

#dysthanasia #writeblr #answered asks #spotify wrapped game #werewolves #vampires

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cockasinthebird · 2 years

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"You reek of cigarettes," is the first thing Steve says after closing his front door behind Billy.

"Yeah like you're so perfect, pretty boy," Billy says all nonchalant, and Steve wonders if the charming twist at the end is intentional or not. Perhaps something closer to a bad habit.

It warms his cheeks all the same, hearing Billy call him pretty boy, princess, Stevie - he doesn't know how to handle it, why it feels different than when girls call him handsome. But it's why they're here now, alone in his house, the camaro parked far down the street as if to avoid suspicion.

Just because they’re not rivals anymore doesn’t mean they’re friends either, Billy has made that ardently clear. Yet here he is, his golden curls perfect, the cologne strong and quickly filling the entire entryway, filling Steve’s lungs as he inhales deeply to calm the nerves, but the musky scent only jostles them even worse.

“So are we gonna stay here all night or are you gonna show me to your bedroom?” His tone is mean and abrasive, but it’s working.

Steve feels like a goddamn virgin on prom night, which he kind of is, in this foreign territory. Both from having Billy in his home, and soon in his bed, if he can muster the courage to get that far. And if he can do it before Billy changes his mind, although from his attitude it’s clear he’s already got one dirty boot out the door.

“Y-you want anything to drink, or?” He fucking stuttered. If the ground could open up and swallow him whole, that would be fantastic right about now.

“Nah, don’t need to liquor me up for this, Harrington, I already said yes.” Billy grins, all teeth and confidence. “Do you need a drink? You look nervous.”

Why is Steve finding it embarrassing that he’s being that transparent? This is all he’s been able to think about for weeks, all he’s been dreaming about, too, ever since he brought it up. Billy’s hands, his lips, his arms, his… everything. And now all of that is just a few steps away; blue eyes watching how increasingly red Steve’s face is getting.

“I’m… fine,” he eventually says with a bit too much force behind it, as if he’s still trying to convince himself. “Let’s just… get to it, yeah?”

Steve’s quick to turn away from how enchanting Billy’s eyes are, how dearly he wants to swim in those crystal clear lakes forever, a deep rooted willingness to drown there as well, how breathtaking the view.

“Hold on a minute,” Billy drawls, and then his hand has found Steve’s, pulling him closer till their bodies stand flush in the well lit hallway.

The hand that smoothly moves to the small of Steve’s back sets him aflame, the heaviness of it as it keeps him near an odd sensation of undeniable delight, and while he stares with wide eyed awe, Billy gazes near longingly through his lashes, his eyes occasionally dipping down to Steve’s lips that parted in a gasp.

“You have to relax,” he coos, his words ghosting across Steve’s mouth. “I want this to be an enjoyable experience for the both of us.”

Billy is a giver, that much is well known across town. Girls often rave about how long Billy spent going down on them, how attentive he is with his fingers, how spellbinding his kiss is.

“B-Billy…” Steve’s voice barely above a whisper as he with every inhale gets a mouthful of Billy’s intoxicating mixture of cologne and sweat.

“That’s right, pretty boy.” Billy smiles like he’s won something, all smooth and prideful, leans in closer till their noses touch. “Say my name.”

“Billy…”

To say the kiss lives up to its expectations is almost an understatement, as it leaves Steve breathless with knees like jelly, threatening to give out as he’s lost in this heavenly bliss. He can’t help but sigh into their embrace, something almost akin to a moan as they share a rare moment of calm and quiet together, yet the air remains statically charged with the sexual tension they’ve both been fighting for months.

Steve was drunk at a party when he off-handedly made a comment about how hot Billy is, shirtless in the summer night, how every girl would fight for his attention, how some guys might too.

Billy was barely even tipsy as he grinned at that remark, asking, “Are you one of those guys?”

And then Steve nodded, and it was clear in the way Billy leered that that changed something right there. A simple drunken comment would change their dynamic forever, and while Steve had almost been convinced it was a dream, the way Billy had winked the day after was proof enough.

But Billy had been quick to make it clear that they weren’t gonna start dating, that he wasn’t gonna woo Steve to sleep with him. They were either gonna do it or not, nothing more to it.

Yet now it feels like it could be more, as Steve swings his arms around Billy’s shoulders to keep him close here. The kiss is loving and adoring, it tastes of promises that he’s all there is left in the world, that Steve is the only guy to be found that is deserving of this. And maybe that’s exactly what all those girls felt, too, but does that really matter in the moment? To Steve that sounds like something he can worry about when he’s alone again.

For the way Billy’s hand smoothly circles around Steve’s lower back gets him hard at an exhilarating pace, and the way he can feel Billy’s own fat erection press into him is rousing to say the least. He can’t help the roll of his hips that elicits a thrilling moan.

“Fuck, Harrington,” Billy purrs, “See what you do to me?”

He takes a step away, the emptiness between them now kills Steve a little inside, but the glorious sight of how Billy reaches down to stroke the outline of his steely cock makes up for the discomfort of lacking body heat.

“Jesus Christ, Billy,” is all Steve can breathe out in his aroused haze.

It’s near magnetic, the way Steve finds himself drawn to Billy, the way he finds himself down on his knees, the throb of his trapped erection louder than his heartbeat as he kneels before Billy, now at an eye-level with the tenting of his jeans.

Hesitation lasts only a second, as a gentle hand in his hair comforts him, pushing away any worry of judgment that if he manages to move past the belt and zipper, it might not be incredible. Steve’s never blown any guy before, kissed a few, sure, parties tend to go wild and teens tend to get bored, it happens. But this? This doesn’t “just happen”, no it’s thought about, it’s considered heavily, if not planned. And it’s embarrassing to admit that he has tested those capabilities with a banana or two in the past, but having the real deal now almost seems daunting.

“You don’t have to,” Billy says eventually, pulling Steve back from where his mind had wandered off to.

He looks up at him, eyes so blue and honest in their reassurance that it settles Steve’s nerves even further about this. “I want to, just… don’t expect anything spectacular.”

“Zero expectations,” Billy huffs out in a laugh and Steve can’t help the smile that blooms at that wonderful sound.

So with all his courage and confidence gathered in his hands, Steve unbuckles the belt, lets the zipper run free, and is immediately faced with Billy’s girthy, veiny cock. No underwear, just his bare, perfumed flesh right before Steve’s own eyes, and he swallows in an attempt to calm the few remaining nerves.

“Are you… wearing cologne on your dick?” he asks without looking away- how could he possibly look away from this waxed-clean, heated skin.

“Yeah,” the blonde grins victoriously, “Gets the girls wet and wild.”

Not just the girls, Steve admits to himself. It’s odd, sure, but also kinda charming? It’s hard to explain, but at least it doesn’t reek of sweat. Although maybe he had kinda hoped for that, his mind is a blurry mess right now, and as he is lacking in words…

With one slightly shaky hand he reaches forth and grabs on to the leaking prick he’s eye to eye with, and gives it a tentative stroke, where his effort is met with a deep, guttural moan.

“Good.”

And it does wonders in the form of encouragement, making Steve stroke slightly faster. Whenever he gazes up to see how he’s doing, Billy is staring right back, eyes blown full with lust, barely blinking as if he’s worried he’ll miss the action before him.

“Spit in your hand for me, baby,” he suggests, no, demands with that sweet and doting cadence when he speaks.

Who is Steve to deny that? He knows from personal experience the difference, and should really have thought of that to begin with, but he was too busy to get to the action. So he brings his palm back and spits onto it.

“That’s it, ah,” it comes from above as he starts stroking the pulsating flesh again, getting it nice and slick.

Is it weird that he’s practically salivating at this? At the prospect of getting to taste the salty precum of another man? He assumes it’ll taste like his own, because why wouldn’t it, yet Billy’s seems far more delectable in theory, and perhaps in practice, too.

So it is with a deep inhale and a throbbing erection that he takes the other man in his mouth. It’s… salty, and he can kinda taste the cologne, too, he thinks, but most important of all is how good it feels. Great even. The velvety foreskin, the smooth head, the hole as he runs his tongue across it. The taste is off putting, truth be told, but the rest of it makes it all worth it, especially the way Hargrove hums with pleasure and strokes Steve’s hair, urging him on. So he dares go deeper, lower, closer to the base. Not quite as far as a banana can go, but definitely far enough to satisfy the other, and as he pulls back with his cheeks hollowed, the hand in his hair pulls and out comes a loud,

“Arh, fuck yeah, Harrington, that’s the sweet stuff.”

Steve can’t help it when his own hand reaches down to press against his own trapped cock to alleviate some of the building burden.

“Hold on, Stevie boy, let me just get comfortable, yeah?” Billy shows impressive self restraint as he moves his hips till he’s free from Steve’s lips, who unintentionally pouts and looks oh so disappointed.

He stays on his knees as he watches Billy move further away, sitting down on the stairs, legs spread wide and inviting, even more so when the blonde starts stroking himself. And with a finger wag he growls,

“Come here.”

Nobody could possibly refuse such a welcoming gesture, and staying on all fours Steve crawls toward those spread open thighs, trying his best to look sexy whilst doing so, but frets that he just looks plain silly. But the way Billy smirks, nothing matters more than that flash of white teeth, and suddenly Steve doesn’t care how he looks.

As he comes near, the lifeguard extends one leg till his dirty boot is pressed against the tented crotch of Steve’s expensive levi’s, undoubtedly getting mud all over the denim, but when Billy rolls his ankle and foot, an embarrassingly loud moan is forced forth from the brunette’s pretty pink lips.

“I want you to take care of yourself, too, pretty boy. Show me how much I turn you on.”

Steve nods frantically and with hands of equal excitement he tears through his belt and zipper to free himself with a delighted sigh, as he with the still slick hand pulls out his throbbing erection in the gap of his underwear.

“That’s it, baby, stroke yourself.”

It’s as if the rather gentle commandeering makes it feel better, or perhaps it’s those crystal clear eyes that stare with an insatiable hunger that just drives Steve mad with lust. He strokes far too fast far too soon, moaning and grunting his way to a building orgasm, when all too rudely Billy uses the toe of his boot to swipe Steve’s arm away.

“Take it easy now,” he laughs slightly, “Wait for me a little, yeah? Come closer.”

Steve does as told, and crawls as close as he can get before the bottom step of the staircase hinders his progress.

“Good boy.”

He blushes. He fucking blushes. First the stuttering and now this, fuck his life, fuck Billy fucking Hargrove.

“Looking so good like this, all hard and eager for me.” Billy leans forward, tenderly runs his hand through those lucious brown locks, then tightens a fist, making Steve groan out in unadulterated lust. “Don’t ever forget who made you like this; like a bitch in heat.”

The coming kiss is cruel and enchanting and Steve melts into it, feels his dick give a lively kick where it stands tall between the two.

“Now, get to work, Harrington.” And he releases him from his grasp before slumping back onto the stairs, resting like a king on a throne, as comfortable as he can get at least.

Steve can’t explain exactly why, but he practically jumps at the chance to have Billy’s girth in his mouth again; feels a strange loss without it. And when it’s heavy back on his tongue again, it feels like home, like it belongs with him. Billy just… has a magic about him. Steve gets it, he gets what all those girls were raving about whenever he managed to be within earshot.

“Fuck, Stevie, that’s good. Sure you haven’t done this before?” Billy tips his head backwards, resting it on the next step, hand in Steve’s hair as he guides him back and forth.

Steve hums in disagreement, insisting that he hasn’t done this before, but man… he’s definitely willing to do it again and again and again, if Billy will let him.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Billy is practically moving his head like a puppeteer, it’d be hard to focus both on moving his hand and mouth at once, and he lets himself get dragged along, from base to tip, as deep as he can go till it gets hard to breathe. He strokes himself faster and faster, matching the rhythm that Billy keeps, as the blonde moans and groans louder and wilder.

All the way till he cums down Steve’s unprepared throat, who does his best to swallow every bit of it, yet some still manages to drip down from his chin. And when Billy finally lets go of the brunette, he falls backwards and coughs from the rougher treatment he got.

And Billy’s fucking laughing, heartily, running a hand through his perfect curls, grinning from ear to ear with a most satisfied glow to his skin. “Damn Harrington, you do that better than those cows at school.”

Without another word between the two, Billy’s on his knees now, too, pushing Steve’s legs apart. “Let me take care of you now.”

Steve can’t do anything other than give half a nod before Billy’s lips have closed around his cock. “Ah! F-fuck, Billy,” he practically shouts as the other bobs his head so deep he gags around the impressive length.

It’s kinda violent, a bit too eager perhaps, and while it isn’t the worst blowjob he’s ever had, it sure has a lot of teeth. But that’s who Billy is. Spit and teeth and cigarettes and cologne on his dick. It’s kinda bad, but also kinda amazing, he might even grow to like the roughness of it, and truly he shouldn’t have expected anything else from the rat king of Hawkins High.

“Fuck, don’t- oh, don’t stop,” he whines, the orgasm building faster than with any girl he’s ever been with, and it is undeniably because of the fact that it’s him, Billy.

“Billy Billy, ah shit, Billy,” he mumbles his name incoherently, and with every word the blonde hums around him, sucks harder, faster, better.

Billy guides Steve’s legs up and over his shoulders as he sucks dick like it’s a contest and he’s too afraid of losing, the underwear surrounding the engulfed cock getting wet and sticky with the mix of drool and precum that leaks endlessly till the final bow and Steve’s cumming hot and heavy down Billy’s throat, who drinks it all up like it’s his favorite flavor of milkshake.

And boy is Steve loud as he orgasms, legs tensing around Billy’s head, voice echoing throughout the empty mansion that would surely startle any mice or rats awake this late. He keeps moaning and huffing even after Billy has released him from his hold, as he lays flat on the ground gasping for air after what can only be described as a magnificent orgasm, and Billy looks so proud of himself for it.

“That good, huh?” He wipes his lips and sucks his thumb clean.

“I think I saw stars,” Steve admits all too readily.

“Well then what I’m about to do to you is gonna blow your mind, pretty boy.” Billy stands up, and offers a hand to the far too exhausted brunette. “Now how about you show me to that bedroom of yours?”

#harringrove #lemon #as promised #if this does well enough I'll write a part two #eye emoji

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cyberrat · 1 year

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68th Batch Of Fics: 11th Fill

Link/Ganondorf – Part ½ – Great Fairy Ganondorf; massive size difference; Link being a perv as always – Link finds the Great Fairy of Gerudo Desert :)

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None of the Great Fairy fountains had been exactly easy to find, but the one in the Gerudo Desert might be Link’s least favorite. Or his favorite. It depends on the outlook. By the time he finally makes his way underneath the huge, creepy skeleton that is acting somewhat as a shield against the ever-moving sands, he is sweating and itching everywhere.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever be rid of the fine sand again. Ever.

But the long, dangerous trek has been worth it in some respect just to see the pearl at the center of it all: the still tightly closed bulb of the Great Fairy fountain sitting proud and mildly glowing. It looks juicy and healthy and weirdly sensual after the two long days of arid heat that has brought him to the very edges of sanity.

Stumbling up the mushroom steps, he staggers against the thick flower bulb and stretches his arms out against it. He’ll feed it rupees in just a moment but for now he needs to spend a few minutes soaking in the cool, fresh air that seems to radiate-

The fleshy leafs twitch beneath his hands and hot cheek and a rumble like an angry animal shivers up from deep within the bulb. Link blinks, confused, and takes a step back as the bulb twitches again.

A moment later he nearly topples down the steps as the flower unfurls almost violently and without him having had to pay a single rupee.

The sudden feeling of ‘something wrong’ spreads throughout his body when instead of an exuberant Great Fairy popping out of her spring, there is one massive arm thrust up from its depths and slamming down on the ground just next to Link.

A second arm shoots out and hits home on his other side, framing him in as he struggles to get to his feet, breath caught in his throat.

Like some kind of demon from the depths of the earth, a figure pulls itself out from the glistening, shimmering waters. They look nothing like the other Great Fairies other than their impressive size. For one, they look distinctly male.

Link finally manages to get on his feet, only to be nearly knocked down again by a hand with sharp nails swiping at him. He dodges in the last moment, noting the almost begrudging respect in the Fairy’s eyes.

His skin has the same warm brown tone of that of the Gerudos with wild red hair in which a myriad of gold rings and jewels are glittering. His naked upper body is adorned with even more warm golden accessories that keep dragging Link’s gaze down to his strong pectoral muscles and the bulging biceps straining against broad hoops of gold.

Stunning.

Link, taken aback by the sudden appearance of this wild beauty, can feel himself flushing even despite the murderous glare thrown his way.

This Great Fairy seems much less friendly than any of the other ladies Link has met. He also looks down his regal nose at him as if he were nothing more than horse dung.

After a moment of quiet between the both of them, the Great Fairy relaxes his posture a little to instead brace his arms on the edge of the fairy pond and sink a little bit deeper into the water so he and Link are on eye level. He slowly looks him up and down. There is a bright red beard growing along his jaw that looks like it has been trimmed with almost embarrassing accuracy. Like it would cut into his hands if Link were to touch it… which he very badly wants to.

“My name is Ganondorf,” the Great Fairy finally says, albeit Link gets the distinct feeling that he does not want to talk to him at all. He keeps looking at him as if he were dirt. His muscles keep straining against all those golden hoops adorning his biceps.

There are pretty barbells adorned with glittering jewels pierced through his nipples. Link finds himself staring, his mouth becoming much drier than it had traversing the unforgiving desert.

Ganondorf exhales harshly, his slim nostrils flaring like that of a stallion and Link realizes that he should maybe give his name in turn. So after a second of panic, he hurriedly lowers himself onto one knee and pulls his sword, offering it up on his upturned palms to this magnificent being.

He does not look up and the seconds feel like an eternity until he feels his sword being plucked from his hands. Peering up, he sees the Great Fairy carefully inspecting the weapon. It looks like a toothpick, pinched between two fingers. Link shudders with arousal.

He seems to have found the name Link has carved into the handle of the sword because finally Ganondorf stops his inspection. He lowers the sword – though not into Link’s hand. Instead, he puts it on one of the fleshy leafs of his flower, far out of reach.

“So your name is Link?” he says slowly, peering down at his visitor.

Link swallows thickly and nods, peering up at him through the fringe falling into his eyes. He still has not gotten up from the ground, one hand pressed in a loose fist into the middle of his chest.

“You look like a knight. Hmm… are those the colors of the royal guard?”

At that, Ganondorf reaches out for him. He has long, sharp nails that are more claws than anything else and with the tip of one he delicately slides one of the straps of Link’s armor down over his shoulder; ostensibly to get a better look at the shirt underneath.

It is dirty after Link’s travel through the desert but the blue is still striking enough, he supposes.

His skin breaks out into goosebumps at the feeling of being touched by this vision. He can’t remember any of the other Great Fairies being this stunning.

He nods, trying to be not too obvious as he wipes his palms against his pants. Unsuccessfully, it seems, because Ganondorf croons: “Someone is nervous. Hmm… I wonder why that might be.”

It sounds just playful enough that Link lifts his head slowly to look at him again. From his cowering position, Ganondorf looks even more massive. Link’s heart skips a beat, then pounds that much faster in his chest. He remembers well the treatment he received by the other ladies; how they snatched him up so easily and cuddled him to their bosom.

They had thought he was just the cutest little thing… Ganondorf does not look like he finds him ‘cute’. His gaze is too calculating… but interested even so.

Link licks his lips – and the Great Fairy watches.

His tight face relaxes a little in a barely-there smirk. His mouth is so wide and sensual… Link gets lost just staring at it. Thinking about the Great Fairy just… gobbling him up. He swallows roughly.

“I suppose you wish something from me. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come all the way out here and bothered to wake me up. Hmm. Let’s see… what could you give me in return for my powers?”

Ganondorf moves his finger, sliding the other armor strap off of Link’s other shoulder. He then tugs at the front of his collar to have a peek at the muscles underneath.

Link’s skin breaks out into goosebumps as the razor sharp tip of the Great Fairy’s nail grazes his skin.

“Handsome,” Ganondorf mutters. “Undress yourself so I may see what I am working with.”

#cyberratting writes stuff #ganondorf/link #great fairy!ganondorf #size difference

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