#moderately quick of word

[herrmannhalsteadproduction]

I feel like the most writerly thing I've ever done is to start writing fanfiction as a hobby on the side from my job...as a writer. 🤦‍♀️

#because you know what's fun? #slamming my face against a keyboard ALL hours of the day #not even lying #writers - why are we like this? #dumb of ass #sore of arm #moderately quick of word #this message has been brought to you by carpal tunnel and tendonitis

[wandasfavreal]

Shy

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend’s loving nature just makes you want to do anything that she asks.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Soft!Mommy!WandaxFem!Reader, shy reader obvi, dom/sub, strap on(r receiving), oral to strap, light pet play(bunny ears), humiliation w/ praise, Wanda’s sosososo in love omg

Tag: @flkwh0re

You woke up to the feeling of nails softly clawing your scalp as a familiar and sweet floral scent filled your senses. With your eyes tiredly opening, you saw pale yet warm skin in front of you, littered with small and almost microscopic birthmarks you recognized all too well. Wanda’s bare chest was only millimeters away from your face, and despite the comfortable position, you moved your head a bit away as you wanted to see her face instead of just the sharp curve of her jaw looking upward.

Awake, she felt your movements under the sheets as she had her arms wrapped around your body. Wanda loosened up and allowed you to shift, tilting her head down to take a look at you as she hadn’t the entire time she was lost in thought rather than still sleeping. Straight away, she was met with your sleepy state, dopey eyes and puffy lips. Her nose scrunched up with a smile as she found it so adorable, and every morning she did. “Goodmorning, sweetheart.”

“Goodmorning… how long were you awake?” You questioned with rasp, looking at how pretty she was even just being in bed with tangled hair. You noticed the way her cheek bones were so perfectly structured and suited the rest of her features, wanting to just lean up and kiss every part of her. She of course felt the same way with you, just expressing it more as she actually did it.

“Not long, I just wanted to hold you for a little while,” she replied moving down a bit to reach your face and place lovable pecks around your mouth, all too quick for you reciprocate. Since her arm was snaked around your torso, her other one was underneath you as the hand connected was gently pawing at your soft hair. “We should stay in today, cook and maybe watch a movie together later,” she said, her husky voice a bit more prominent as it was early.

You nodded in agreement with her suggestion, finding it perfect and ideal as today was finally a free one for both of you. For the past week the you two were moderately busy. You knew how stressed she’s been with work, and you also wanted to make the most of the day. So to start it off, you initiated a heated kiss, wanting it to become and build up to more like most other mornings. Maybe her relieving herself by making you cu-

“Cmon, we should get out of bed,” Wanda said, quickly pulling away from the short lasting smack with an innocent smile. You made an obvious confused expression, but the woman ignored it as she released you from her embrace and got up from the sunken mattress. Looking up at her as she stood, you kept yourself in the same position since you were just planning on convincing her to go back under the blanket that you felt trapped under. Unfortunately for you, she only bent down to pull you up gently by the arm, saying “Let’s go take shower together, too.”

With that, your face lightened up as you began to consider that maybe she wanted to do something there instead. You quickly got up along with her help, and soon trailed behind. Once the two of you were in the bathroom, Wanda turned the shower faucet on, letting it become warmer before getting in. She let it run as she put out a hand under and felt for the right temperature. Luckily, it was quick and she allowed herself in first, getting of ahold of your hand to have you carefully step in. She was just so gentle with you, making sure you were always safe.

The moment the water made contact with your skin that was beginning to become chilly earlier, you suddenly forgot all about the cozy bed. Your body relaxed and in replacement of your thoughts, you went back the idea of pleasing Wanda. She looked at you as the water started to flatten your hair, but you also noticed how her eyes trailed down. Maybe it was now that she wanted to-

Before you knew it, she turned away and grabbed the bottle of shampoo, squirting some on her hand. Then she faced you again and immediately slathered the soap onto your head, though lightly. You again made a look as your eyebrows furrowed, but it soon went away as Wanda made it.

“Close your eyes for me,” she softly ordered, her fingers throughly and without much force, rubbing your scalp. You felt like melting under her despite the slight confusion of how she was being so… sweet. Sure she was like this all the time, but it felt a little different now. Especially since she hasn’t tried to do anything sexual with you like usual, only pampering and making you feel good in other ways.

She kept this up for a couple more minutes, and in honesty, you didn’t want it end. But of course it had to. Turning the shower head off, she grabbed a towel for you first, wrapping it around for you as you stood there letting her without little protest. Though, you did attempt to tell Wanda that you’re able to at least dry your hair yourself, but you were still met by her refusing and persuading you as she did all the work, telling you that she just wanted to take care of her sweet girl. And then this continued the rest day, you conflicted yet so warm and bubbly inside from how cared for you felt.

————————

By the time dinner arrived, Wanda kept herself busy in the kitchen, cooking one of your favorite dishes. And you, feeling unusually more needy, went through and stood by her. She noticed and felt a whoosh of air brush by her, indicating you were there, and so she turned her head away from the stove and towards you. She had a smile plastered on her face, gently glowing from the brightness of the light above her.

“Do you need any help..?” You asked meekly, your hands clasped together behind you as you stared over to the pot and then back to her. Wanda only shook her head, but found the way you were beginning to act endearing.

“Nope,” she started, setting aside the utensil she was using to stir before shifting her whole body in your direction. She stretched out her arms, grabbing you unexpectedly by your waist and picking you up high enough to place you on the marble counter. “Just sit pretty here for me, princess.”

Wanda stood between your legs and tilted her head up to peck your nose, lightly pinching your soft cheeks too, and making them heat up slightly. You listened and sat there until she was done, kicking your feet and swaying as you spoke and adorably ranted about random things that came to mind. And so, you didn’t notice the way Wanda looked at you. But how could you when you didn’t the entire morning till now.

Ever since she woke up, her mind was plagued with what she had in stored for today. Pushing you into this subby headspace. For what felt like so long, she planned on having you all to herself as she made sure that you’d be as agreeable as possible. Unbeknownst to you, Wanda had a lot more wants in the bedroom, and it was now that she wanted to test them out with you. But to do that, she needed you to be as needy as her, which at this point might be impossible.

Her hand came up to her neck to scratch as an itch came. With her set of eyes shifting between the task she was doing and you, all she had in her head was what’s been making her excited and filled with anticipation. The whole day so far, she had to hold herself back from indulging in anything. Every time you looked up at her with that cute little pleading face she wanted to break character and take you, but she needed to stay in check to ensure that you’d be fine for later. She knew how worn out you get after sex, so she couldn’t have you so early on, even if you were acting so appealing.

Wanda was barely able to focus on absolutely anything else other than the intrusive thoughts of corrupting your innocent sweet self. The way you were being now was already so perfect, needy yet a little air headed. She honestly could’ve went with it and had you do anything at that moment, but there was still something she wanted to do to really hit the nail. To make you as flustered as possible.

So once the two of you had an ordinary dinner, Wanda only gently placing her hand on your thigh under the table, she told you to go pick any movies of your liking while she insisted on cleaning. At first you wanted to refuse and help her, but you knew she’d just coax you into not doing it. And so you were there on the couch, clueless, waiting for her as you set up the tv. Skipping through the many selections of films, you found none of them interesting. But then again all you had in mind was Wanda.

Speaking of her, she came around the corner of couch, sitting beside you on the soft cushions. Her arm reached behind you on your lower back, pulling you in by the waist to snuggle up with her. By that action, your head was made to lean against your shoulder. But then her other hand came up to cup the side of your face that wasn’t pressed up, making you look up at her as she spoke with that sweet loving tone.

“Do you need mommy to do anything else for you, sweetie?”

You froze hearing that word, that name. You’ve never heard her say it in such a non sexual way, yet it made you just as nervous and immediately hot. Your face burned as you looked at her, only to see a normal expression as she stared back with a small curve of her pretty lips. “U-Um no, I’m fine…” you replied with a quiet mumble, turning back to the television screen that shined brightly in the dark atmosphere of the living room despite the sun still out.

Once you looked away, Wanda smirked to herself and pulled you slightly closer. She knew this would be your breaking point, where your head is the most fogged up and thoughtless. And she was right of course. Your entire body felt weird, like it couldn’t help but slightly tremble, some areas more than others. It was similar to chills, except heat replaced the coolness. Even the clothes you wore seemed to tighten around you, making it difficult to breathe the right way. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wanda…”

“Hm?” She hummed, answering you as she turned back again to look down. She saw how flushed you were, your eyes in a daze. You lightly tugged on her shirt, too, and it made her own stomach flutter.

“Can we… you know,” you tried hinting at what you wanted, too embarrassed to say it out loud. Yet Wanda insisted you should, teasing you in the process as she held a slight smile.

“I don’t think I know, honey. Just tell me.”

“Mm can we- um do something besides watch a movie?”

“Like what?” She continued to egg you on, knowing how nervous you get, and especially shy. But she loved to see it.

Your brows frowned once you sensed her teasing, making you pout with a slight puff in one cheek. It made Wanda’s smug face contort into a knowing grin as she snickered quietly. Then she talked for you.

“You want me to take care of you?

You nodded slowly at her question, your face still ablaze. Your thighs also began to squeeze together to ease the feeling between. “Please… mommy,” you mumbled under breath, looking away from her gaze after as you felt like shrinking. Wanda’s eyes widened hearing you, her heart beginning to race too. She really did have you now.

Peeling herself from you and standing up from the couch, she took ahold of your hand to get up and follow her as she led the way to the bedroom. Once you two were in, she gestured you to sit on the bed, also walking in the same direction but standing once you sat. Contemplating you, she asked a simple question.

“Can you do mommy one little favor?”

You looked up at her, curious as she asked somewhat hesitantly. Noticing the way she licked her lips, you figured it was something she’s been thinking about for some time. So you nodded, wanting to just do whatever. That way you could get what you wanted quicker.

She turned away from where you sat for a moment, towards the nightstand by her side of the bed. Pulling the top drawer open, her other hand reached in to grab an object before slowly taking it out. Then you saw what it was, bunny ears. Wanda went back to her original position, facing you now as she held the fuzzy accessory in front of you.

“Wear this for me, please?”

Wanda figured you’d be uncertain, maybe finding the idea ridiculous, but today was different. You were already so light headed and pliable, she knew you’d be more likely to agree now more than any other time. Ergo, she was met with your hand gently coming up to take the larger ears from her. Before you could though, she stopped you. “Let me put them on you.”

Your hand backed away and fell back down onto the bed, allowing her to place it on your head instead. Wanda spread the band of the ears open, letting it be wide enough to comfortably wrap around the top half. The ends were soft behind your real ears, and you actually enjoyed the feeling despite the lingering thoughts of being self conscious. But they were buried within your clouded mind, proving Wanda right. She was also enjoying the sight before her, yet that was maybe an understatement.

Her teeth bit on her lower lip as she carefully put them on you and not just from her preciseness but rather other reasons- because of how good you were for listening and the way you looked. For however long, shes been waiting to see you adorned as such. She was obsessed with the way it sat on top, one ear perked up while the other was slightly down. The light pink of the inner part contrasted with the brighter outer white, suiting and complementing the rest of your appearance. Wanda breathed out heavily, taking her hands off of you before looking away for a moment, and ordering you in tender manner, “Undress while Mommy puts on her strap, okay?”

The second she brought that up, you felt as if that one fake limp ear could’ve lifted in pure excitement. Again, you quickly listened to her and took off every single piece of fabric on you. You watched her mirror you, except strapping on a silicone toy to her center. The temperature of your face rose as you stared, examining how big the familiar piece was. You’ve taken it plenty of times to know how much damage it could do if Wanda wasn’t careful, but you had no worries at this moment, only thinking about her finally making you and herself feel good after a long day of deprivation.

Your eyes trailed her movements as she moved to sit down at the edge of the bed, then looking up at you before telling you to go and sit between her legs which were already spread apart. You took a few steps, going between her two limbs before bending down and kneeling. With your bottom pressed against the heels of your feet, you politely had your hands on your lap as you waited for her to tell you what to do. Although, you already had a sense of where this was going.

“Why don’t you get mommy’s cock ready? You can take your time,” she uttered softly, looking down and softly grasping your chin in which moved in her hold as you nodded again. She smiled at you, moving the strap to have the tip pressed against your lips. At that, you opened your mouth wide enough to take some of it in. However, you backed away nervously, letting it leave once it became too much. It was your first time doing this, sucking or even having her in your mouth. She noticed your hesitance, and only wheedled her way to make you more willing. “It’s ok, it’ll fit baby. You trust me right?”

You shyly hummed a yes, before you felt her make you open up again, this time her taking the lead and putting her hand behind your head as she slowly put her strap in your mouth. A loose strand of hair was out till she gently put it behind your ear. It was around a little more than two inches deep that you heard her praise.

“There you go, you’re taking it so well bunny.”

Your eyes widened, looking up at her. The new found pet name made a wave of arousal throughout your body, some of it slipping out of you and spreading its way around your inner thighs. You made a small whimper around her as she pushed your head down farther, and it had you shut your eyes as well. That was until you felt her lightly tap your face, making you open them again. “Keep looking up at me baby.”

You did as she said, with a doe-eyed appearance. Wanda bit lightly on her tongue, trying to find ways to control herself and not drive into your pretty mouth deeper than you can handle. You were just so so adorable, obeying her as you looked the way you did. Instead of pushing her hips up, she continued to bring your head down, making it hit the back of your throat as you gagged. Tears quickly pricked up. The intense eye contact was difficult to keep up despite the growing need, but you wanted to please the woman you loved.

Drool found its way around your lips, some of it dripping down to your chin as Wanda continued to make you choke on her. She didn’t think she could last another second of seeing you like this without actually applying more force with her body, so she pulled your head away by your hair from the back, making sure to not mess up the clean look of the bunny ears at least. She wiped the saliva off your face after the strap left your mouth with a small pop. Wanda then guided you to go on top of her, straddling her lap in a gradual manner.

“Mommy’s gonna make you feel really good, but I need you to do one more thing, okay?” she muttered, placing her hands underneath your thighs to pull up enough to have the top of her cock to press against your center. She felt the slickness, too, then leisurely lowering you. Most of it was in as you softly moaned, staring down at it disappearing within you. Wanda did the same before looking back up, placing her hands on your hips. You clenched your jaw, the feeling of her length inside you a bit larger than you remembered as she adjusted underneath you.

“Mommy, I-it’s big…”

“I know, I know… just go up and down. Can you do that? Bounce on mommy’s cock?” she spoke with a condescending tone, as if you really were a pet. Still, her words made you squeeze tighter around her, and it was enough to persuade you. You timidly mumbled a small “ok” and languidly lifted yourself up and then went back down, the tip pressing against your cervix already.

Wanda watched every movement you made, her eyes trailing from your center all the way up to the tip of the cutesy ears. As the sun was beginning to set, the soft yellow glow shined through the curtains of the window, making your skin have that certain golden hour look. She was in awe with how everything went accordingly. As you rode her strap, the singular drooped ear bounced along with you, flopping up and down. A part of you felt humiliated at the thought of Wanda seeing you like this, so you looked anywhere but her. She noticed it though.

“What, bunny? Are you shy?” her voice sounded like it dripped with honey. You let out a quiet whine of her name, the hold on her shoulders changing into your arms wrapped around her neck instead as you buried your face into the crook of it. Wanda lightly chuckled as she saw you getting more embarrassed, and rested her chin on you as she moved a bit closer to your ear. Her hand came up smoothly against your back, rubbing it to calm your nerves.

“Aw you are… you can’t even look me my sweet girl,” she said teasingly, and it only made you screw your eyes shut as you kept your face there. The combination of the smell of her perfume and her small gestures on your body made you dizzy. You were still riding her strap, though slower now, and Wanda let it happen as she waited for you to be a bit more docile.

After a minute or two passed, she moved the hand that was comfortingly on your back to the side of your face, leaning back to get you out of that position. Wanda made you look directly at her, and then you noticed how out of it she looked too. Once she was able to see you, her eyes became completely blown out, her pupils black with a thin ring of light green around them. Suddenly, you felt a harsher grip on your waist that lifted you up a bit, only to be met with Wandas hips roughly snapping upward. You winced and let out a small cry, your hands closing up in fists from the sharp pain. “M-Mommy slower, please…”

“Fuck, I’m sorry baby,” she huffed out, gulping down as she kept her gaze on you. With your eyebrows pulled together and your eyes glossed over from the continuous remarks she made about you, she couldn’t help but feel some sort of cute aggression take over her. She kept thrusting into your pussy, though less harder than the first thrust, as you let out noises on top of her. Her bottom lip quivered with need, uttering “you’re so cute, I can’t help it.”

As you began to ease up to the feeling and size, your mewls turned into pleasurable moans. Wanda took it as a sign to quicken her pace under you, and once she did, she also pulled you down onto her. The impact of it hit a spot you didn’t even know of. Her breathing sped up into pants, “I don’t think mommy can hold herself back anymore…”

Consequently, her strap aggressively fucking into your cunt made you dumbfounded. Wanda could’ve barely kept it together, and to take out some of her sexual frustration, she came forward and bit the lower part of your neck. The soft flesh becoming easily punctured, and causing you to whimper more. “Shhh, I know, it’s so hard to think when my cocks so deep inside you,” she pulled away from the now bruised spot, and made your head tilt down to allow her lips to crash into yours. The make out was rushed and hungry, moans spilling from both of you. A trail of spit followed suit as Wanda drew back. “But it’s ok, you don’t have to think right now. Just be a good dumb bunny for mommy.”

You shakily nodded, not even sure of what she meant. At this point you’ve gone fully non verbal, another sign to Wanda that she could just about do whatever she wanted with you. So compliant and easy, she fucking obsessed with you. Her eyes continued to zero in on your expression and the white fuzzed up ears, which made her force herself into you rougher and deeper. She was even letting out her own soft groans similar to your noises.

The built up feeling within your burning tummy was starting to unravel as Wanda continuously hit your g-spot. You held tightly on her shoulders for stability, letting her just take out all of her frustrations on your sore but greedy pussy. She was getting a lot more brutal than what you’d expect. The room was filled with the sounds of squelching, skin coming into contact, and heavy breathing. Your fingers began to curl into her skin, making your nails painfully dig in and signaling her that were extremely close to cumming.

“Are you gonna make a mess on mommy’s lap? Yeah I bet you are...” she panted in your ear again with the prior higher pitched tone, making you tighten impossibly more around her cock. Still, she able to push through. The moment those words left her mouth, you shook your head yes vigorously. Wanda would usually make you beg and ask for permission, but she knew the state you were in right now. “Mhm, cum for me bunny.”

On command you shuddered above her, a wet mess leaving you and around her strap. The sensation you felt was almost unbearable, just so sensitive, yet amazing as your brain had nothing to think about. Your climax was all that you hoped for after such a long tedious day of teasing. It made you feel the fire at the pit of your stomach burn at its peak. Immediately, you fell limp on top as your legs shakily gave up from its support. But Wanda kept you up, enough for her to still bury herself into you and letting you ride out your orgasm.

Once it fully passed and started to overstimulate, you whined and made her stop. Thankfully she did, even if a part of her wanted to do more to your poor body. Her arms wrapped around your middle and made your chest, which was rising in and out rapidly, press against the side of her face. She comfortingly held you like this for a moment, making sure you caught your breath as she listened to sound of your heartbeat. Her head then moved back up to look at you, “You’re so good, sweetie. Mommy’s perfect girl.” She spoke with tenderness, making sure you continued to stay in that floaty headspace even after, especially after.

You couldn’t help but lean down and place a chaste kiss to her lips unexpectedly. But Wanda sensed your clinginess per usual. As you detached, her mouth formed into a smile, the one you loved so much as the lines around the sides became more noticeable.

“I love you so much, you have no idea,” she murmured. Even as the sun began to become out of sight, you knew her cheeks were red. She placed more feather like kisses around your neck and up your jaw. She didn’t think you’d respond back, so she kept on the aftercare and words of praise. “My shy little bunny, so perfect.”

You blushed profusely as you felt a flutter in your lower stomach, the name making you more giddy despite the many uses of it already. You still needed more time to get used to it- that is if you ever will.

“I love you too mommy…”

Your meek voice caught her off guard, but it turned purely sweet as her grin grew larger. She held your face again, kissing you another time, this time longer. Look at you still trying so hard to please her.

It was obvious that Wanda would’ve done anything for you. And it was the same with you, of course. So likely, next time she’ll have you doing another thing for her the same way as today. Maybe an additional fluffy tail that she already had in mind.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mommy!wanda #top!wanda #elizabeth olsen #lesbian #INEEDHERNOW #wanda x fem!reader

[dukeofankh]

Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.

I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.

...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"

And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.

MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.

The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.

In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.

The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.

And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.

I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.

#me writing stuff #positive masculinity #menslib

[aether-starlight]

Auscultation- Zayne

Pairing: Zayne x Reader

Warnings: None. Brief mention of poor eating habits.

Summary: You come to the hospital for a check-up regarding a past shoulder dislocation. 

Word Count: 1k

Note: This is a continuation of Mending, but can be read as a stand-alone.

Zayne was talking. Or at least, his mouth was moving. 

Instead of paying attention, you were being haunted, once again, by the memory of him. The ghost of his hand over your cheek, his perfume, and the tension of his proximity. 

You wondered if he could tell you were distracted, or if he noticed the entranced stare you gave his lips every once in a while. They reminded you of his breath brushing your ear, of his palm pressed over your eyes, cool and steady.

Until an unexpected statement broke through your fixation.

“I will need you to remove your jacket.” 

If you hadn’t known him for such a long time, the tense set of his jaw may have slipped your notice, just like the slight clearing of his throat. 

Was he angry you were distracted?

“Oh,” you breathed out. “Okay.”

It was a quick removal. After all, one of your arms was in a sling, so the leather jacket was only wrapped around your shoulder.

Having supposed something like this would be necessary —this wasn’t your first dislocation, unfortunately—, you had brought a top, which meant the only barrier between your joint and his hands was a menial string. 

And you were not nervous about that. Nope. Not at all.

You stifled a shiver at the low temperature of the room and sat on the stretcher in a swift motion—being a hunter had its perks, it made you agile, even with an injured arm.

“I’m going to examine the area,” Zayne’s voice was soft, almost breathless as his hands hovered over the space where your shoulder met your neck.

You smacked your lips together and felt yourself relax just a little. 

“Okay.” 

His fingers were as cold as the room, startling you when they gently pulled the string of your top out of the way. 

You gasped.

“Forgive me,” he said, avoiding your gaze at all costs. 

His hand hovered over your skin, giving you a second to adjust. 

“It’s fine, Doctor Zayne.” 

You quite liked calling him that, liked the nervous edge to his voice when you did.

“Does this hurt?” He pressed down the pads of his fingers with moderate force.

“Not really,” you hummed. If anything, it felt kind of nice.

Zayne cleared his throat once more, shifting his grip to your forearm. 

Your heart rushed at the slide of his skin over yours, goosebumps rising in its wake.  It reminded you of holding his hand, the way the scars on his knuckles had felt as you brushed your thumb over them.

“Your iron levels were below average in your last check-up. Have you been eating well?” He asked.

Now it was time for you to be nervous.

“Of course,” you lied, lowering your gaze to his tie. 

Like everything concerning him, it was freakishly neat, with an understated geometric pattern in shades of gray. 

He probably measured it with a ruler before buying it. You pictured it: his unforgiving focus, the concentrated tilt of his mouth as he gripped it between lithe fingers. 

Unfortunately, said focus was now drilling a hole into your head.

“Fine, I may have skipped meals, you know I forget to eat sometimes.” 

“I suppose I should be grateful you don’t forget to breathe,” he quipped. 

“You are so prickly, you know that?” 

You played with his stethoscope with your free hand, following the bob of his Adam’s apple with a satisfied smirk. 

“I’m not prickly,” he denied. “I’m serious. Does this hurt?”

He gently rotated your arm, slow in his movement.

“And I’m not? Doesn’t hurt.” 

He gave you a loaded look, resting your hand back on your lap.

You mercilessly stifled the disappointment that rose at the pit of your stomach when he let go.

“Wouldn’t be the first word I used to describe you, no.”

You pressed the stethoscope’s bell to his chest, earpieces already in place. 

“Wow, your heart is beating pretty fast, are you sure you’re not the one with the heart pro—“

“Would you quit that?” He interrupted, sounding somewhere between amused and irritated as he unwrapped your fingers from around the bell. “It’s not a toy.”

“Sorry,” you fidgeted with the tubing before passing it to him.

“What’s with you today?” 

“Can’t help it,” you beamed. “Too much coffee.” 

Zayne tucked a strand of your hair back, stifling a groan of frustration. He was a weak, weak man.

When his palm curled around the shell of your ear, cradling it like something precious, he surely knew abstaining from temptation was a lost cause.

It was now warm, absorbing the heat of your skin. As soon as you left, his hands would probably run back cold. 

Somehow, that thought made something unpleasant unfurl within your chest. It felt malleable and elastic, it wanted to stretch itself and pull him close.

“What am I going to do with you, hm?” He asked, voice low. 

The whole world could be crashing down outside, Wanderers running rampant, and you wouldn’t know.

You let out a stuttered breath.

“What do you want to do with me?” 

It was meant to come across as teasing but crumbled halfway into something nearly hopeful.

The heat in your eyes snapped Zayne out of it, clearing the cloudiness from the hematite and amber in his gaze.

He stepped back, returning to the haven of his desk, where he closed your file with finality.

“Your shoulder seems to be healing well. I recommend you watch it closely and let me know if any discomfort appears.” You had never heard his voice so close to shaking.

“Zayne.” You stood from the examination table, feeling on edge.

“That was unprofessional of me. I’m sorry.” 

“What is it?” You insisted.

There was something between you, a wall that he carefully built. 

It became eroded with every interaction, shortened into something almost letting you peek into the other side, but never quite enough.

Your chest ached and it was ironic because nowadays you couldn’t always tell if it was from emotion or the Protocore fragments in it.

Zayne sunk into his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. The room’s temperature dropped, ice spreading against the glass of the window behind him.

“Zayne—” 

Your hand hovered by him, eager to provide any comfort you could offer, but his body language made you doubt. 

He was still hunched over himself, face turned away from you. The hand that wasn’t covering his face was closed in a fist, frost forming over his knuckles.

“Please…” he breathed out your name. “I need time.”

Your mind drifted back to when you fought that wanderer together, the way the whole room had frozen over afterward, his urgent insistence for you to leave.

“Okay,” you gave in, stumbling back. “Whatever it is, you know I’ll wait for you.”

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #zayne #zayne x reader

[my-writings-and-musings]

Transformers ROTB

Fluffy Mirage x Reader

I have no more thoughts, there is only Mirage. I already posted a fic of him to my 18+ blog, but I love seeing this mech being a cute little nerd as well. Please enjoy this fic where reader wakes up at night for a drink and Mirage doesn't want to stop snuggling.

Fair warning there might be quite a lot of ROTB content incoming!

Unexpected thirst woke you from your deep sleep rather quickly, thrusting your bleary mind into an environment it didn't immediately recognize. Panic had no time to set in before you realized you were in your garage, with a thoroughly demolished couch below you and a very affectionate bot snoozing away at your back. The two of you must have fallen asleep after turning off the TV...

Mirage made a small sound at your back before curling more tightly around you, pulling the arm he had under your middle close to secure your back snugly against his front as he murmured something snarky in his dreams. Smiling at the adorableness, you realized rather swiftly that getting up for a drink without waking the sleeping bot would be a challenge. You weren't being held especially tightly, but the soldier was a light sleeper, and the smushed couch remains beneath you were rather noisy when disturbed. Were you not so thirsty, you'd have just settled back into his arms and gone to sleep.

Deciding to try your luck, you began scootching your way downwards to try and ease out of the mech's grip, moving slowly so as not to brush any part of him along the way. Mirage continued to twitch as he dreamt, snoring lightly as you tenderly pushed his arm away from your middle. Once you got free and began inching away from the warm little nest the two of you had created, it occurred to you that the mech had probably pulled you close after you'd fallen asleep but before doing so himself, as the last thing you remembered was resting your eyes while sitting on his lap.

The affection stirred by that thought compelled you to turn around for a look at him recharging in all his adorableness, and you smiled before continuing your crawl. It would be delightful to return to his arms after facing this cold open air...

A loud creak from the smushed springs and wood beneath your knees made you freeze, heart skipping as you looked back in a rush.

Mirage awoke with a start, optics onlining with a few quick blinks before he focused on you and calmed considerably, alarm fading to sleepy confusion. "Babe?"

"I'm just going to get some water, be back in a second." you explained gently, moving in to plant a quick kiss on his forehelm. To your surprise, the speedster pulled you in without a word, hugging you back against his chassis as if you were a cat. Sputtering in surprise, you allowed yourself to be smushed with only moderate flailing, so accustomed to being handled you no longer felt too off put even when caught off guard.

"Nooooo, don't go..." he whined softly, playfully tightening his grip on you as if he never intended to let go. The sleepy antics were quite in character, and you only rolled your eyes as he nuzzled his helm against yours, mussing up your hair in the process. You accepted the affection for a few moments before trying to pull yourself away once more, throat protesting yet again for a drink.

"I'm only going to the kitchen." you reminded him, the door to the room in question quite literally within sight. In just the time he'd taken for these antics you could have been halfway done with your task, thanks largely to the tiny size of the adjoining house, but logic rarely kept Mirage from doing much of anything. In fairness, you'd have been happy to go back to sleep were you not still so thirsty. The lovable bot was very good at cuddling.

"Hmmm, fine..." he conceded with dramatic disappointment, releasing you before crossing his arms and pouting. As soon as you crawled away he upped the ante, wrapping his arms about himself and shivering pathetically and putting on the most over the top puppy optics you'd ever seen. "Brrrr, so cold... hope I don't freeze out here all alone."

"You'll survive until I get back." you promised with a roll of your eyes. Certain he was pouting at the back of your head the entire way, you quickly crossed the furbished garage and slipped into the dark house, using the ample moonlight to guide you through the dark kitchen. After grabbing a much needed glass of water and finishing it with a few greedy gulps, you hurried back to the garage, eyes slightly more adjusted to the dark by the time you opened the door. You doubted the entire affair took more than two minutes.

"Oh, Y/N, is that you? It's been so long..." Mirage said with mock weakness from the far side. Curled up in a pitiful position he'd obviously posed for maximum effect, the speedster shivered as if he'd been left abandoned for hours, the mock pain in his optics barely covering the mischevious delight in their depths.

"I was gone for five minutes." you reminded him with a yawn, wanting nothing more than to curl up in the flattened couch once more. It was surprisingly comfortable for something multiple bots had reduced to a pile of stuffing, but the mech you shared it with probably had a lot to do with that.

"Nearly enough time for me to freeze to death. Now get back here, I need my little space heater." Mirage said, abandoning his act to beckon you over.

"Letting that go because I'm so tired..." you promised, rubbing your eyes as you crawled back onto the couch remains. The mech eagerly assisted you, helping to bring your back against his front just as you'd been before whilst he snagged a spare blanket to lay over your shoulders. Being pulled in close allowed you to feel the subtle warmth that radiated from his own frame, as well as the tender hum of his spark and the gentle caress of his EM field brightening at your presence. When he looped his arm around your front once more, you happily hugged it close, and his demeanor softened all around you.

"Mmm, much better." he purred, curling about you as the both of you settled in once more. Loosely holding his hand, you snuggled against him and began to drift off once more, smiling as he murmured a final goodnight after thinking you were already asleep. "Sweet dreams, bunkmate."

#transformers #maccadam #tf #mirage x reader #rotb mirage #transformers rotb #tf rotb #rotb #human reader #self insert #transformers x reader #x reader #tf imagines #fluff #mirage #rotb x reader #bayverse

[theriverbeyond]

how do we know in the books that john is indigenous? can you say more about how his indigeneity is important to his story?

hello! so there is a word of god post on race (doesn't mention John but mentions that Gideon is "mixed Maori"), BUT I frankly don't think word of god statements are worth any weight without actual in-text support (see: the "dumbledore is gay" situation). SO!

Specific evidence that John Gaius is Maori, as revealed in Nona the Ninth:

When he is listing his education, John mentions having gone to Dilworth School (John 20:8). Dilworth is an all boys boarding school in Auckland and accepts students based on financial need instead of academic or sporting achievements. Demographics appear to be about 70% low income Maori boys, indicating that it is highly likely that John is Maori

John reports that P- said he looked like a "Maori-TV pink panther" (John 15:23) when his eyes turned gold. Maori TV is a TV station that is focused primarily on Maori culture & language revitalization, with presumably all or mostly Maori hosts, and tbh I don't see why P- would say this unless John was himself Maori

John uses a te reo Māori phrase ("kia kaha, kia māia") (John 5:20) when he is saying goodbye to the corpses in the cryo lab before the power is shut off. Though it is possible he said this as a non-Maori kiwi, but in combination with the previous two points of evidence I think this all very strongly points to him being Maori

He also renames his daughter Kiriona Gaia, "Kiriona" being just literally the name "Gideon" in te reo Māori

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter but to ME this is all pretty solid proof

Why is this relevant to The Locked Tomb?

In Nona the Ninth, we learn that before he completed apotheosis and ate the solar system, John was basically trying to save the earth from capitalism-caused climate change. Climate justice and the rights of indigenous people over their own land are deeply tied together, in the same way that climate catastrophe and capitalism/ imperialism/ colonialism are linked. disclaimer that this is NOT my area of study and others have definitely said it better; this is just the basic gist as I understand it, but on quick search I found some sources here and here if you want to do some reading.

TLT is not a series that hands you anything on a silver platter, but i don't think it is a stretch to see John as an indigenous man trying to save the earth and getting ignored and shut down at every turn by primarily western colonial powers (PanEuro, the USA) who declare him a terrorist and then as a reader thematically connecting that to the experience of indigenous climate activists IRL

there are absolutely TLT meta posts that have discussed this before me; tumblr search is nonfunctional and I have been looking for an hour and a half and cannot find anything specific even though i KNOW i reblogged multiple posts about this in the first few weeks following NTN's release. sad & I am sorry

I think that by the time the books take place, John is 10k years removed from the cultural context he grew up in, with the Nine Houses having become a genocidal colonial power in their own right (with more parallels to be made between John's forever war for the resources of literal life energy and like, oil wars), but I also think that John Gaius is a fictional character who can represent and symbolize multiple different things in service of telling a story. (not to mention the potential thematic parallels being made to how oppressed people sometimes are pressed into replicating the power dynamics of their oppressors and continuing the cycle--now that is a tumblr post i KNOW i read last year and definitely cannot find right now, once again sad & I am sorry)

How Radical Was John Gaius, Really is a forum thread that was locked by the moderators after 234534645674564 pages of heated debate

#john gaius #nona the ninth #the locked tomb #tlt meta #i need to fix my tagging system fr #john meta #tlt thoughts #trb.txt #if anyone wants to add anything or correct anything PLS do so!!! i did my best hope this helps anon. this took me 2 hours

[stnexus]

a slip of the tongue…!

jason todd x fem!black!reader

MINORS DNI, NSFW, 18+

summary: stressful days and sleepless nights, jason has a remedy for that one. just don’t give him any attitude, that’s all he asks.

cw: minor little heated argument (reader literally just has a lil freak out moment), a few mentions of jason’s scars, reader is stressed, insomnia (?), reader thinks jason’s mad for a second but that gets cleared up quick, nsfw, squeaky bed frame(?), praise kink, overstimulation, dumbification, dacryphillia, oral (f!receiving), squirting, creampie, mating press, missionary, cowgirl, this one kinda sensual you guys (i need this man so bad. tonight…we FEAST.)

names used (?): baby, pretty, pretty girl, beautiful, beautiful girl, good girl, daddy (used in moderation you guys)

word count: 3.5k+ (yet i was struggling to write my 1.2k final essay. THIS IS 12 FUCKING PAGES.)

A slam of the front door was all that rang throughout the house, the pitch black darkness was like a cold greeting. One that you had gotten used to when you would come home from work late in the evening. With Jason on his patrol and the house void of  anyone else, you were left to your own devices. Something that you sometimes wish was not the case. 

Dropping your keys on to the side table of your Gotham apartment, you pushed your heels off and kicked them out of the way of the front door. Flipping the light switch up and to the on position soon after. As your bare feet connected with  the cold wood flooring of the apartment, it seemed to ground you just a bit. 

This week at work had been hell, your boss had been working you so much you felt like if you blinked within his line of sight he would scold you for goofing off. So here you were. Sore feet, skirt and blouse cladded body tired as ever. Stripping yourself of your clothes one by one you held the pile of clothing in your arms until you reached your room, gliding through it to the connected bathroom.

Dropping the clothing in the hamper in the bathroom, you glanced at yourself in the mirror above the sink. Your eyes were glazed over from your tiredness, your pretty brown skin was beginning to lack its glow, and the bags under your eyes were getting heavier by the minute. Stressed wasn’t even the word needed to explain your state of being. 

Another sigh fell from your lips, and a yawn followed soon after as you made your way to the shower. grabbing your pink bonnet off the sink where you had left it, you gathered your braids and tucked them into the bonnet, the band laying snug on your forehead. you hoped that the water that would soon come beating down against your skin could help you become less stressed. 

your shower was therapeutic, but not enough to fully ease your mind. no, what you needed and wanted was jason. you had missed him all day — knowing your home would be empty when you arrived home due to him needing to tend to important matters. as you climbed into bed, dressed in pajamas that consisted of an old shirt and shorts, the squeak of the old bed frame that needed to be replaced welcomed you. 

i need to remind jason to help me pick out another bed frame next weekend. your thoughts rang.

grabbing at his pillow on his side of the bed, you pulled it towards you. his scent seemingly pulls you out of the brain fog you were currently in, just slightly. but it is still not enough. soon you would realize even attempting to fall asleep was futile. even though your eyelids were heavy and begged for rest.

you tossed and turned for hours, huffing out a frustrated sigh many times into the dark bedroom. peeling your eyes open you peered at the alarm clock that read ten minutes to five in the morning. it dawned on you that it had been  almost six hours that you had been fighting to fall asleep.

shaking your head as you grumbled, you stretched your limbs as you pulled yourself from the bed. your bonnet slipped off in the process, but you paid it no attention. trudging out of the room to make way to the kitchen. grabbing a cup from the cupboard, you pulled the fridge open as you grabbed the bottle of juice and opened it. beginning to pour it, that's when you heard it—

it was the sound of familiar heavy boots hitting the wooden floors of your apartment. even though happiness played at the edge of your mind, your face barely portrayed it. you slightly jumped as your eyes met his own as he stood in the entrance of the kitchen. jason’s arrival was quiet, surely because he was confused about who was in your kitchen this time of morning. seeing as you were usually asleep.

“what’re you doing up, baby?” 

his question flowed through the air as he began to close the gap between you two. his helmet was nowhere to be seen, most likely tucked away somewhere in your apartment.

“couldn’t sleep,” your words came out rougher than you had intended. there was a beat of silence but it washed away as jason spoke again. his brows furrowed for a minute then relaxed as he rubbed a hand over his face, fingers running over his scars for a mere second. 

“so, before i forget, bruce wants the whole family to come over for dinner saturday,” he informed as he backed away slowly, sitting at your dinner table as he pulled off his boots. “said he’s not taking no for an answer.”

“jason, i don’t know—” you tried to inject, though he had not seemed to notice.

“i’m sure alfred will probably be cooking almost all day tomorrow, in preparation. everyone eats like they’ve never seen food before—”

“jason, fuck, i already have enough on my plate right now. my boss is up my ass every time i walk into the office. i’m up to my neck in paperwork, all because he decided to spontaneously lay off two of my coworkers. i haven’t been able to sleep one bit, even though i’m tired. on top of that, i have to work on saturday. i don’t have the time to worry about a fucking dinner at bruce’s house.”

the kitchen filled with silence as you stood in front of the fridge. jason’s eyes taking in your current state as he sat still after your outburst. your braids cascaded down your back, but the few that slipped over your shoulder to frame your face made him aware of the bags that began to form. you looked overwhelmed, stressed even. he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to realize at first — which usually doesn’t happen.

“…you do seem tired, baby. i’m sorry i didn’t notice,” jason broke the silence. “how about we go to the room, i know exactly what you need to get to sleep.” 

“no, jay i’m sorry– ”

“it’s nothing to be sorry for, baby. i’m not angry,” jason ensured as he stood and walked over to you. grabbing at your free hand and pulling you towards him, taking the cup of juice from your hand. your head laid on his chest momentarily. “how about you go to the room? clothes off for me by the time i get in there, pretty girl.”

the weakening bed frame squeaks once again as you drop onto the mattress, jason grabs onto your ankle and dragged you closer to him as he got on the bed soon after. grabbing softly at your face, he slightly squished your cheeks together as he leaned down towards you to plant a peck on your lips that drifted into a heated kiss. without words, he pulled away, placing slow, open-mouth kisses down your neck — one of his hands grabbing at one of your breasts as he tweaked and played at your nipple. 

you felt completely vulnerable with how he was completely dressed; having quickly showered in the guest bathroom to give you some space. jason had dressed in a simple black shirt and gray sweatpants. his scent flooding your senses

“ you feel so soft, baby,” jason complimented,  “ ‘could play with this pretty body all day, every day.”

his words pulled a moan from your lips. reaching out to brush your hand over his hair you let out a small gasp as his lips wrapped around the nipple he had just toyed with. your hand tightened just a little around his hair, a flurry of black and whitened strands peaking through your finger as your acrylics ran over his scalp. his tongue dragging soft circles around the hardened bud at that moment. pulling away after almost two minutes, jason placed a kiss right above your nipple — then repeated his earlier actions with your neglected nipple. 

“pretty fucking tits,” jason grunts, eyes darkening as he looks up at you with your nipple between his lip, “such a beautiful girl.” 

“shit— thank you, daddy,” you let out as his hand snaked between you two. pushing your thighs that parted to accommodate him apart even more. feeling his rough fingertips part your slick folds in a teasing manner, you whined for some sort of friction and lifted your hips at his actions. to which jason listened as he sat his palm right above your cunt, thumb dipping downward to rub tight and heavy-handed little circles over your clit. 

“ ‘s that feel good, pretty girl?” 

“y—yeah,” you stutter out. 

“you know all i wanna do is make you feel good, right?”

“yeah, you make me feel so good, jay”

“so the next time you feel overwhelmed,” jason began as he began to lay kisses down your torso, stopping just below your navel, “don’t bring that attitude to me. just talk to me, ‘ya understand?”

“yes, f—fuck, i’m sorry daddy,”

locking eyes with you, jason licked a long stripe over your cunt. his tongue caressing your attentive clit. he did it a few more times before wrapping his lips around your hardened bud, taking harsh sucks at it as if he were trying to pull an orgasm from you. 

“ ‘taste so fuckin’ good,” jason spoke as his eyelids became heavy with lust, “nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout baby.”

feeling his hands drag over your inner thighs your hips seemed to move on their own as you attempted to grind against him. only for jason to let out a moan around your clit, hands now close enough to feel a thick finger prodding at your slit. sliding in slowly as his eyes trained on your face. the drag of his finger in and out of you was mind numbing as he found your most vulnerable spot within mere seconds — feeling you clench around him in approval of his actions.

“ ‘you gonna cum all over daddy’s face?”

“yes…!”

your dragged-out and whined confession was followed by almost immediate proof. the walls of your cunt clench around jason as he adds a second finger, tongue still dragging over your clit. a sheen of your cream decorating his fingers as you came crashing down.

“that’s it, baby, let it out,” jason spoke as softly as he could. lapping at every bit of your essence he could take in as if he would be ripped away at any second. though, your release did not stop him. his fingers continued to work you open as he pulled his mouth away from your cunt. watching as you clenched around his fingers repeatedly from the lack of a break. adding a third finger, jason listened to the moan you squeaked out in response. 

he was so attentive towards you, so it had not  shocked him when you declared that you were on the verge of cumming yet again. instead, he buried his tongue between your folds once again. his tongue heavy and wide as he parted your cunt. licking and kissing at your clit as if he were making out without it. 

“j—jay don’t stop,” you begged as your hips chased after his tongue. 

“mhm,” he hummed in agreeance, the vibrations from his response knocking you over the edge. the last moan you drew out hitched in your throat and slowly progressed into a slight whine. your thighs closing around his head, to which jason used his free hand to open them once more.

“there you fucking go, good girl,” jason groaned out a praise, laying a single kiss on your clit before he sat up from his position on the bed. bending down towards you to plant a messy kiss on your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. as he pulled back you took in his disheveled look as he took in your somewhat dazed look from reaching your high twice. watching as he pulled his shirt off, you were greeted by the scar that spanned across his chest and abdomen.

“that was just two,” jason spoke, “i want to see you cum until you can’t think.” 

it was something you knew he would follow through with. especially when he laid you back down, spreading your legs once more as he tugged his sweats and boxers off in one go, getting you to wrap around his waist. with his knees digging into the mattress he slid his cock back and forth between your sticky folds, groaning as his tip met your clit and caused you to twitch due to sensitivity. wasting no time, he lined up his tip with your entrance. sliding in gently, he placed a hand between your breast, slightly pushing you into the mattress, while his other hand gripped your hip.

you could feel him filling you inch by inch, stretching you out as he pushed himself into you. your mouth slightly agape as he reached the hilt and left you with a moment to adjust.

“you’re so tight,” he slurred out, “ ‘thought i opened you up enough with my fingers, baby. loosen up for me.”

“i’m trying, jay— fuck, ‘feels like you’re in my stomach,” you replied in shaky voice. which only caused jason to grin in response. 

“you poor thing, you can take it. i know you can.” 

pulling his hips away from your own he swings them downward onto you, repeatedly. drawing — in his own words — the prettiest sound from your lips. his own moans and grunts slipped through at times, his sounds making you feel just as good as his actions. 

“oh shit, you feel so good daddy,” you swore as your fingers found a purchase wrapped around the hand pushing you into the mattress, the scars decorating them lying just beneath your fingertips. his strokes were sensual and deep — like he planned on driving you crazy. if he wanted you to think of nothing else but him he was definitely on the right track.

“yeah…? i want you to show me how good it feels. cum for me,” jason stated as his hand reach up at your cheeks, “you know what i want. let me see you cream all over me again.” 

“jason you’re so nasty,” you forced out as his hip persisted. you were growing a bit embarrassed at how you were squeezing at jason’s cock, his stamina surely helped him wade off his release. 

“i know you ain’t complaining,” he said with a huffed out laugh. a few swears falling from his lips as he pushed the feeling of wanting to cum far down his list of priorities.

“i—i’m not, shit, i’m cumming…!”

“cumming so good you’re trying to milk me i swear,” jason groaned out as he watched the layer of your sticky orgasm cover his cock, “fuck— not yet though, ‘gotta make sure i take all that stress away.”

it felt like he had already done so, with the way your mind became fuzzy as you surged through your third release. jason’s hips barely skipping a beat as he fucked you through it, prolonging the feeling of ecstasy. your words were starting to fail you as he pulled you down the mattress and stood to his full height at the foot of the bed. he raised one of your legs over his shoulder, the other following soon after as he pulled you into a mating press. 

grabbing at his forearms that he planted firmly on each side of you, you swore you could feel him everywhere as he pushed himself into you again. the feeling starting to become overwhelming as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes. kissing at your brown cheeks he stilled for a moment as his eyes softened. 

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” jason spoke as his lips met yours again, “i’m so lucky to have such a hardworking, intelligent girl.”

amidst him praising you, he began to move. feeling as though he was trying to dig you out in the current position. 

“ ‘l—love you,” was all you seemed to let out as your words drifted off into useless babbling. his hips hitting the back of your thighs with each thrust as he planted a kiss on one of your legs.

“you know i love you too, baby.”

the room seemed to grow hotter as the bed frame below you squeaked at jason’s well paced thrusts. the little hair that began to grow in on his happy trail becoming covered in your slick as he rubbed against your clit with each thrust.

this time you were unable to even form the words to warn him of what was to come. you felt a tightness in your lower stomach that seemed to get worse with each movement from him. but this one felt different. the constant rubbing against your sensitive cunt in combination to him stretching you out was like he was trying to break you.

“that’s it, i know. i know, baby,” jason cooes as he reads your face, “all you need is to be fucked out. make a mess for me.”

you swore you saw stars as you gripped at jason’s arms. surely leaving impressions of your acrylics on his skin as you came. spurts of clear fluid bouncing off his abdomen as he continued to push himself in and out. 

“f—fuck, i need you to do that one more time.”

it was not long before you found yourself on top of him, bouncing as good as you could with how tired you were becoming. pushing his cock into your overly spent cunt, he had let you sink down at your own pace. it took everything in him to hold himself back but tonight was not about him. jason wanted to live up to his earlier statements: all he wants to do is make you feel good.

he watched as your bouncing started to become sloppy, your legs weak from the many times you had cum before. reaching his hands out, he intertwined his fingers with your own as he took in your fucked out state. 

“need me to help you, pretty girl?” 

“y—yes please,” 

that was all it took for him to pull you towards him. your head falling onto the white pillows beside his head, your face right next to his. taking a second to place your hands behind your back, he held your wrist together with one hand as he grabbed at your waist with the other. your knees stayed planted onto the mattress as he positioned himself. fucking up into you, his own hips pushing you up and down. the bedframe squealing under his continuous movements seemed to encourage him even more.

“ ‘treat me so good, daddy,” your whines were broken and tired. he was sure you would sleep nice and good when you two were done. but for now a chuckle left his mouth.

“you deserve it,” jason spoke in between his own breathy moans, “you work so hard, fuck—  yeaaa… squeeze me just like that. you are worth everything, baby.” 

the tears that had been playing at your eyes since he had you at the edge of the bed seemed to fall at the ringing of his words in your ears. feeling your heartbeat quicken and your stomach tighten you forced yourself to make sense through your nonsense rambling.

“ ‘wanna kiss, jay.” 

to which he didn’t complain. his hips never faltered as he turned his head towards you, connecting your lips once again. groaning as he felt you gripping around his cock as if he were attempting to leave your soaked cunt.

“want me to fill you up?” he questioned in between the kiss. a question you tried your best to answer but only forced out a mumble of mhm, yea. 

it didn’t take long, as you reached your peak, squirting once more as it dripped down jason’s balls. his lips were still on yours as his hips stuttered, moments later flooding your cunt with ropes of white cum. despite not looking down, you could feel his cum leaking from between your legs as you gushed around him. only for him to fuck back up into you a few more times before slowly pulled himself from your pussy.

“how do you feel, baby?” he questioned as he let your hands go. the hand that was on your waist moving to remove a braid from your vision as it had begun to slip as he adjusted himself under you. he had put his body flat against the mattress and allowed you too just lay on him in your fucked out state. 

“tired,” you replied as much as your worn out body would allow you. 

“how about we go pee, then when we get back we can both sleep all you want? i don’t have to handle patrol tomorrow, Dick’s got it covered.”

“mhm…i’d like that.”

“thought so. and don’t worry, i’ll handle that boss of yours, go ahead and call off for Saturday,” jason smiled fondly as he grabbed at your body. gearing up to pick you up and help you to the bathroom.

#✧ read along #jason todd x black!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd comfort #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd #jason todd x reader smut #red hood x black!reader #red hood x you #red hood comfort #red hood fluff #red hood x reader #red hood smut #the red hood #red hood #red hood x y/n

[eoieopda]

sudden + (a)cute | jyh

jeong yunho’s got a serious case of downbaditis — oh, and also a cold.

pairing: jeong yunho x reader au: hurt/comfort, sick fic, friends to something type: drabble (f) word count: 2k rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact. cw: gn!reader; illness (obviously); ft. clueless roommate!mingi a/n: my inaugural ateez fic! inspired by my own sick day today + my own personal love sickness re: jeong yunho, lmao. a/n 2: reposting for the fourth time because it's not in the fucking tags, lmao. 📍permanent taglist(s). @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bahng-chrizz

You realize too late that days off and the “do not disturb” feature should go hand-in-hand.

Because you didn’t think to silence your notifications, some form of unsolicited contact slips through the cracks. Just like that, your Netflix binge is unceremoniously halted; hopes are dashed; and your phone vibrates so many fucking times in quick succession that it starts scooting its way across your coffee table, hellbent.

With a grunt of abject displeasure, you tear your half-glazed eyes off the television screen ahead. They flick down to the source of the sound to identify the caller before you commit to sitting upright off the couch. It’s a lost cause, not unlike your eagerly-awaited plans to do nothing. The nuisance lays face-down against the tabletop, buzzing relentlessly as it runs out of real estate.

Tragically, you don’t have a choice.

Before your phone can drive itself over the edge Thelma-and-Louise style, your hand darts out to catch it. You glower as your fingers curl around it, sharp tongue ready to lash out at the co-worker you told no fewer than 809 times that you were giving yourself a long weekend.

“For fuck’s sake, Yeosang,” you mutter to yourself.

Pulling the phone up to your face for closer inspection, you realize with a scoff that it’s not an incoming call at all. 

It’s — one, two, three, four, five six, seven — eight rapid-fire texts and counting, all of which were sent within seconds of one another; and none of which came from the lovable doofus in the office next to yours.

You Know? [10:03 AM]: Tell… You Know? [10:03 AM]: My…. You Know? [10:03 AM]: Story….. ! You Know? [10:03 AM]: 🤧 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 😷 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🏨 You Know? [10:04 AM]: ☠️ You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🪦

Oh.

Immediately, your tight-lipped scowl cracks wide open.

Different doofus.

In the time it takes for you to convince your phone’s facial identification that you are, in fact, a human being, the bombardment continues.

You Know? [10:05 AM]: 👼🏻

This one pulls an unexpected chuckle out of you that’s still ringing out when you tap on his contact card and start dialing.

With your hands full and your wrists weighed down with plastic pharmacy bags, it takes three tries to barge into your best friend’s apartment like you own the place. Having underestimated your own clumsy strength, you watch in mild-to-moderate horror as the door flies open, cringing as you await the sound of the knob smashing into the hallway wall.

You get a yelp instead, followed shortly by a huffy, “Aish!”

The newest addition to the apartment steps into view with a pink mark in the center of his forehead. His eyes are as wide as they can get, both blinking slowly. As he rubs gingerly at the blooming bump, you wonder if the look on his face is any more dazed than usual. It must be, you conclude. He wasn’t expecting you any more than you were expecting him.

“Sorry!” You squeak, shuffling the tupperware in your grip from one hand to another. Your warmed palm reaches out to pat his forearm apologetically. “Are you okay?”

Mingi shrugs, already over the heart attack you’ve given him. Now, it’s intrigue that lights up his face. His eyes scan over the goods you’re toting. Soon enough, they stick on the samgyetang that’s scorching through its plastic confines to your fingertips.

As it turns out, Yunho’s new roommate is just as blatant as the previous one.

Where the hell does he find these people?

“You brought me soup?” He beams, teeth and tone both as bright as the fucking sun.

Your mouth opens to respond, but all that comes out is some useless sound that vaguely resembles a groan. You bite your lips together, searching for some way to let him down gently. In the end, you come up with exactly nothing.

“I —”

Withdrawing your hand from his arm, you gesture over your shoulder in the direction of Yunho’s bedroom. “It’s for, um… He’s —”

Mingi looks to where you’re pointing. His eyebrows raise, signaling his arrival at confused. “Yunho’s home?”

Jesus Christ.

“You didn’t… notice?” Your tone matches his. So does the altitude of your eyebrows, you assume.

For far too many seconds, the pair of you eye each other in stupefied silence. The person who would normally interject to save you from this hell doesn’t arrive to do so, leaving you without an escape route.

This is what happens when you find all your roommates on the internet.

“So, I should — Um.” You wave once again towards your friend’s door. “Yeah.”

You bow — you’re not sure why — and shuffle a step backwards, turning slowly on your heel the second you’ve created enough distance. 

Propelled by your own awkwardness, you rocket away from your friend’s roommate and fling open your second door in as many minutes. You shut it behind you with your eyes closed tight. For good measure, you keep your back pressed to the wood, as if your own embarrassment is something you could ever lock out.

“Took you long enough,” comes the rattle of Pestilence itself.

Without unclenching any part of your body, you mutter, “I had my second run-in with your Craigslist roommate, and it went exactly as well as the first. You need a better screening process — seriously.”

A loud laugh is quickly replaced by a cough that you feel in your own chest. Frowning, you open your eyes to take in the lump in front of you; and within seconds, you have to fight off your own laughter.

Sprawled out over an unmade bed, Yunho sports an outfit you couldn’t defend if your life depended on it. Dark brown waves peek out from underneath a beanie, leaving only his eyes to crinkle up at you above a black surgical mask. Even without his mouth visible, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s grinning at you.

Well, damn.

You could stand there all day, basking in the way he looks at you, but you don’t let yourself revel in it. Cheeks already burning, you can’t risk getting caught swooning. 

You’ve embarrassed yourself enough, haven’t you?

To avoid detection, you shake your head to clear it and beg yourself to focus on the absurdity before you. In doing so, you note immediately that Yunho didn’t bother with a shirt; however, he did opt for gym shorts. They clash wildly with the pair of fuzzy, striped socks on his feet. That discovery flusters you to no end because they’re yours.

“You’re dressed for, like, three conflicting seasons,” you muse, gesturing from head to toe with your free hand. The plastic bags you’ve been wearing like bracelets rustle with the movement. “Couldn’t decide on a climate?”

“Hey!” His whine is muffled by his mask, though his congestion certainly doesn’t help. “One-third of me is freezing.”

Before you can nudge his right leg out of the way, Yunho moves it for you, freeing up the corner of his mattress for you to sit down. In fact, he takes all his limbs with him; summons all his strength to sit upright in front of you. You quickly avert your eyes from his flushed chest and focus on your stupid little soup, as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

When Yunho clocks what you’re holding, he damn near gasps. His eagerness barrels through his hoarseness, making your heart flutter. “Is that your mom’s samgyetang?”

“It’s her recipe,” you correct him. “She’s visiting friends in Sydney, remember?”

For someone with a skull full of snot, Yunho’s quicker on the uptake than you would’ve thought to give him credit for. His eyes crinkle even further into a smile as they flit between your hands and your face — and shit, do they sparkle. 

Before he can confirm that you not only brought him soup but hand-made it, you wrestle your arm free from the non-recyclable trap cutting off your circulation. 

“I — uh, didn’t know which of the five thousand types of decongestants to bring you.” 

You shove no less than four of them towards him, smiling sheepishly.

“Choose your fighter.”

It’s something you thought for sure he’d laugh at, that stupid little joke, but Yunho is uncharacteristically quiet. He just stares down at the over-the-counter medications in his hands, wearing a look you’ve never seen before. One that suggests you’ve given him your beating heart instead of Guadenesin, wrapped it in a bow instead of a kilometer-long pharmacy receipt.

It’s not a look you know what to do with, so you shut up and do your best to ride out your galloping pulse.

Without looking up from your offering, Yunho eventually says, “I didn’t even tell Craigslist Roommate that I was sick. He would’ve grabbed Albothyl or something equally useless and called it a day.”

“That tracks.” You nod. A small smile works its way over your lips. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have trusted him with your sinuses, either.”

Another pause settles in the space between you. It’s not uncomfortable, sitting quietly with your person, but you can’t help wondering after that wrinkle between his brows.

“I didn’t even think to ask him,” he admits, like he’s forgotten that he’s your first call, too.

Some sort of realization must hit him like a lightning strike because Yunho suddenly looks up from his hands. That’s all it takes to stir up the butterflies in your stomach. Unfortunately, it takes far more effort from you to ignore them.

“You made me soup,” he sighs, sounding disappointed. 

Or frustrated. 

Both — or maybe neither?

Whatever it is, it makes your palms sweat more than you ever plan to admit, so you simply nod again.

“I made you soup,” comes your unhelpful echo.

Silence.

Staring.

You offer a reminder that neither of you needs, “You’re sick.”

More silence and staring.

Then, a conclusion that nobody asked for: “You’re sick, and you should therefore have soup.”

Yunho drops his face into his hands, groaning loudly. The various layers of interference make him twice as difficult to understand, but you don’t miss a single, spilling word. 

“I’m sick, and you made me soup; and I can’t kiss you about it because then you’ll be sick; and I don’t even know how to make you soup.”

Stunned to silence, you just sit there — blinking dumbly, all the while— like it’s the only thing you know how to do.

That’s not true.

You know what you want to do, and now you know you’re not alone in that. Most importantly, you know that acting on any of it will cost you several days of sneezing your brains out.

The groan you let out is twice as loud as Yunho’s was and three times’ as frustrated. It erupts out of you, and when you’ve expelled it fully, you crumple into a heap at the foot of his bed, thoroughly defeated. You curse him through the hands that now cover your face, “You rat bastard.”

Yunho snorts. “Excuse me?”

“What even is this timing?” You tear one hand away from your face and land a light smack on his knee. “You really waited to tell me any of this until you were contagious? Be fucking for real.”

His laugh shakes his shoulders, leaves him in the form of squeaks.

“The nerve of you, Jeong Yunho.”

The mattress dips when he drops himself into the space in front of you. Propped up on his elbow, he looks at you with one eyebrow raised.

“You bought out a pharmacy and made me soup,” he counters. “You brought this on yourself.”

You roll your eyes, although it does nothing to distract from the way you’re giggling.

“Did you not wanna get kissed?” Yunho challenges, “Because that’s how you get kissed.” 

With a grin, his knuckles nudge yours, returning your earlier knock far more affectionately than you sent it. “Babo.”

“You’re the babo,” you sniff. 

Despite your childish rebuttal, you take the opportunity to slip your hand fully into his. It’s not the first time, by any means, but the difference is clear; and when you squeeze gently, you feel it come right back.

With your laughter faded out, you sigh, “Yunho?”

He hums in acknowledgement, likely too exhausted by your ill-timed antics to power up a proper response.

“Can you please eat your stupid soup and get better already?”

#ateez #ateez fic #yunho #yunho x reader #ateez x reader #jeong yunho #yunho fic #yunho imagines #yunho scenarios #yunho fluff #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #atz #jade writes #re: sudden + (a)cute #kvanity #if i have to repost this again i'm going to give up. WHY WON'T YOU GO IN THE TAGS?

[arafilez]

☆ ⼂ PUNCH THE WALL ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, estb. relationship ㅤ warnings arguing, moderate cursing, and anxiety attack ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k per member wc ㅤㅤ pt 2 here ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤOMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS YESSS OKAY how about skz reaction to their s/o punching the wall (and immediately regret it)in the heat of an argument - anon

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

“Let’s sit down, and talk this out properly,” Chan says getting tired of the argument with each passing second. It is tiring how you are bringing up every small topic just for the sake of arguing.

His eyes widen the moment your fist lands on the wall and cringes at how you instantly wince from the pain. He remains still, watching your breath become more even.

You stare at your palm in shock not realising why you did it anyway. You are not that type of person at all.

“There are better ways of subsiding your anger,” Chan speaks up, slowly taking your hands in his and inspecting your knuckles. “Let’s get you a painkiller,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and you nod looking down.

“I don’t know why I did that,” you stutter out barely and he smiles handing you the tablet and shrugs saying, “Anger is a strong and restless emotion, it is important to learn how to control it. For example, you can tear up some paper into small pieces and make sure all pieces are small.”

“I will work on it,” you smile lightly and he nods encouragingly, “I know you will, darling.”

◗ ៹ LEE KNOW ›

You can’t do this anymore, if he retaliates one more time you might just punch the wall. Minho’s words pass by your ear and you feel a quick blood rush and punch the wall behind you.

The pain takes over immediately as you press your hands to your mouth as a whimper passes out of your throat. You can’t believe you just punched a wall. You never do that.

You hear Minho’s footstep coming towards you and he holds your hand inspecting your knuckles quietly. You keep your head down, ashamed, knowing you have crossed a line while he makes you sit on the couch. Taking out the first aid kit, he slowly dabs an ointment around your bruised knuckles. You watch him carefully and let out a quiet sigh before looking up at him.

“Don’t apologise, you gave yourself enough punishment,” he chuckles and continues, “Things like these happen. Doesn’t mean you are a toxic partner.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a sob choking your throat, “for everything.” You let out a weak smile and he smiles back lightly pecking your lips to cheer you up.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

The picture frames rattle loudly as your fist lands on the wall and suddenly the room becomes quiet. The tension is thick as you open your fist and your hand rests where you have just punched while Changbin stands in a distance.

You are not this kind of a partner, you never are. Then why did you do that?

“You will beat me in punches in a gym,” Changbin’s voice enters your ear and you look at him mouthing, “Sorry.” He walks towards you and slowly takes your fists in his hand and continues, “Come on that one was funny.”

“Changbin I am so sorry,” you start crying, over sensitive from all your emotions and frustrations and the way you just expressed it. He holds you close and then hugs you till your sobs subside and turn into small whimpers against his neck.

“We all have bad days,” he whispers and continues, “But next time talk to me, don’t keep it to yourself.” You nod rapidly hugging him tighter, the regret now slowly being pushed to the back of your mind at his comfort.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

You give one last look to Hyunjin before your fist hits the wall in anger and you pant in rage. Regret takes over your feature almost immediately and you turn around to look Hyunjin frozen in his place and his eyes widening in shock and fear. Your resolve falters in a fraction of a second and you take a step towards Hyunjin.

“Hyun I swear-“ you start only for him to harshly cut you off, “Save it.” You slap your hand over your mouth to stop a sob escaping your mouth. You can’t believe what you did, this is not you.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Hyunjin exclaims and you open your mouth trying to explain yourself but he stops you telling, “Apply some meds and we will talk when you are calmer.” Saying that he leaves the room, making you rethink your decisions again and again.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

Jisung’s breath fell short and the room felt like spinning as soon as he sees you punch the wall. He gasps loudly, holding the table near him and his vision starts to blur. He can feel the anxiety attack coming and he can do nothing about it.

You regret as soon as you did it but looking at Jisung the feeling worsens and you run to him. You hold him in your arms and whisper out, “I am so sorry baby.” You walk him slowly to the couch and he slumps down, gripping the couch handle rather strongly and you wince. Slowly unwrapping his fingers you hold them and look him in the eye.

“It’s me and I am sorry,” you whisper and hand him the water bottle as he shakily takes a sip from it. Panting slowly his vision clears and he finally sees your tear-stricken eyes and hugs you as you repeatedly say ‘sorry’ over and over again.

You love him so much, hand you wish he can forgive you which unknowingly maybe he did.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

Imagine you are minho 😭

“Oh shit,” you curse loudly at the wincing pain in your knuckles as you punch the wall and Felix’s eyes widen but he doesn’t move from his place. You hold your fist and press your lips together but the whimper doesn’t go unnoticed by Felix who grabs a painkiller and a bottle of water.

“I didn’t mean to-“ you start but your boyfriend cuts you off saying, “Sit down.”

“Okay,” you oblige and he hands you the water bottle which you gladly take sipping on it lightly. His eyes scan your feature full of remorse and he rubs his hands over your knees whispering, “Relax, it’s alright.”

“It’s not and you know it,” you choke out and look away unable to look at his kind eyes. “Let’s talk about it, yeah?” he proposes and you nod smiling lightly and his eyes light up at your acceptance.

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

“Kim Seungmin,” you snarl at him, “I am warning you.” Seungmin’s indifferent sigh angers you to your last extent and you look at him straight in the eyes and punch the wall beside you. You quickly retreat your hands as soon as you do it, shock and remorse washing over your features.

You look at him and see him stare back at you, mouth parted and eyes holding annoyance as he speaks, “So you talk with your hands now.” You shake your head lightly looking away, ashamed of yourself. A scoff of disbelief leaves his mouth and Seungmin pokes the inside of his cheeks eyeing your figure.

“I am sorry,” a sob escapes your throat as you say it out loud and Seungmin’s features soften for a millisecond before he exhales and says, “We will talk when you are ready.” And not punching walls, he thinks but refrains from saying it out loud and leaves the room while you sit on the floor and a stray tear escapes your eye.

What have you done?

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

The pent up frustration about everything in life and Jeongin’s childishness gets the best of you and you punch the wall behind you. Your knuckles make a cracking sound at the force. You immediately get back from your trance and stare at Jeongin who is rooted at his place.

“Jeongin I-“ you try, but your voice falters when you see him take a step back, his hands folded against his body protectively. Hurt crosses over your features and you open your mouth to speak and make him comfortable.

“Just fucking listen-“

“No”

“Innie-“

“I said no,” Jeongin yells at you and a pin drop silence falls around the room.

“Don’t come near me, we will talk later,” Jeongin’s voice held remorse and fear and you exhale slowly nodding at him. You watch him leave and regret takes over your features.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤtysm anon for requesting this, i hope you like it, some of them have open endings and unsolved arguments 'cause i suddenly love writing that lmao. tysm for the people who are reading and the blr notes. ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

© arafilez on tumblr. please do not copy and repost my work as your own.

#ㅤ── ㅤara posts ㅤ𝜗𝜚 #stray kids #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz #skz x reader #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst #˖ ⋈ ˚ ‹ skz › #⺌ r.equests ♡ #𓂃 FIC : punch the wall 𒉽

[satoruin]

➣ not-so-secret late night rendezvous

pairing: malleus draconia x gn!mc

word count: 3K

summary: while the vdc group stays over at ramshackle, they notice you have a frequent visitor

notes from lee: i’m rusty with long pieces so i hope this is okay ish? takes place during book 5 when the vdc group is staying at the ramshackle dorm but i haven’t read book 5 since it released so it’s not entirely canon compliant… also way more ace-centric than i realized oops i love adeuce

You had abandoned the hope of falling asleep easily once Crowely oh-so graciously allowed the newly formed VDC group to take up temporary residence in Ramshackle. When either or both Ace and Deuce stayed over you could deal with their moderate snores, however, snoring amplified by the seven extra people staying in your dorm was disrupting to say the least.

Despite all the boys being the next room over, the snoring seeps through the rotting wood floors and poorly constructed walls.

In hopes of trying to tire yourself out, you decide on a midnight stroll. Something that has been a recurring event even before your visitors. And maybe you have an inkling of hope that there will be another visitor when you get outside.

You feel the need to be quiet and sneak out, hopeful to not incur the wrath of Vil despite you being the dorm leader of Ramshackle. The window in your room has provided many nights of escapes, but it still takes an effort to push it open enough for you to get out. It only takes a few steps across the patchy roof before reaching the fire ladder. When your feet hit the ground you can already see the green fireflies that swarm the area and it instantly puts a smile on your face.

If the others within the dorm were not up earlier from the scolding Vil had given them, they were more than awake at the footsteps on the roof. Of course, it could have been passed off as the ghosts, but the creak of the rusty ladder gives you away to those inside the house. A quick check into your bedroom proves that it’s you out of the dorm and not one of the VDC members. Vil is largely unconcerned, you are just a manager after all not a performing member, that is until Trappola calls out from the bottom floor.

“Oi! What’s Malleus Draconia doing outside?” Now this peaks Vil and the others upstairs’ interest. Already pressed to the glass window in the seating room are Ace and Deuce, the others join shortly.

“What is this fuss about Draconia being outside?” VIl questions and the redhead shivers at the tone of voice he uses. Instead of answering anything, Ace points outside to where you stand animatedly talking to the prince of Briar Valley. Everyone just now coming to witness the scene outside the window reacts similarly, shock. All inside the house knew of Draconia’s reputation, but there you were chatting away with him like an old friend.

Despite the seemingly friendly conversation between you and the fae, the way Malleus looked fondly down at you did not escape the watchful eyes of the Rook, “Quelle beauté! The love between the Roi des Dragons and the Trickster is blooming right before our eyes!”

The three first-years mashed into the glass pane let out a simultaneous groan. “How come the Prefect didn’t tell us they got into a relationship!” “Bleh who even wants to be in a relationship?” And similar remarks left the boys’ mouth, but soon quieted when they watched as you started back towards the dorm. Their blabbing had cost all of the bystanders to lose track of Malleus who had seemingly left.

“Back to the room. Not a word of this to the Prefect. It is up to them to tell us about their relationship, not your incessant meddling.” Vil sternly ordered and the boys trudged up the creaking stairs before you came back.

Despite what Vil may have told Ace and Deuce about not meddling, you were their friend! If anyone would be allowed to meddle it would be your best friends, no? At least that’s what Ace had convinced himself of and later Deuce despite his reluctance.

They have a momentary break in the grueling practice and that’s when Ace decides to pry. You sit near the sweaty boys and offer up bottles of water, but it feels mostly like moral support. “So Prefect, you’ve been here for quite a while now, so’s there someone you're crushing on?” Ace asks, trying to be nonchalant.

“Is this some roundabout way for me to ask you if there’s someone you like?” You laugh at the red-head when he turns as red as his hair in embarrassment. “I take that as a yes?”

“No!” He waves his hands and you laugh at him again. “What’s wrong with your best friends wanting to know something like that?” Ace nudged Deuce, making him the accomplice to this encounter.

Before Deuce can protest, the two of them are yanked up by their collars. “If the two of you have energy to move your mouths, I’m sure you have the energy to continue practice.”

You laugh at Ace once again and shout a wish of good luck at him and the innocent Deuce.

After the catastrophic failure of the afternoon, Ace decides to take a different route: asking Grim. Once again he makes an assumption that if anyone would know about your relationship it would be your friend (though Ace is unsure if Grim counts as a friend or a pet).

The cat-like creature seems to be asleep at the moment, but Ace’s curiosity is strong enough to be the one killed by the cat. He pokes Grim and he yawns. “Whatcha want that you needed ta wake the Great Grim up?”

“You know the Prefect better than anyone right?” Ace asked tentatively.

Grim rolls over, trying to get comfortable once again before answering, “Just ask my henchman yourself, there’s no need to bother me.”

Ace rolls his eyes but presses on, “Well if it’s your henchman you should know if something in their personal life would affect them serving you, yeah?”

Grim rolls over to face Ace once again, “What could they be doin except being my henchman?”

“Oh well, I heard something about them dating Malleus Draconia, but if it hasn’t been affecting anything then it’s probably not worth talking about.” Ace shrugs, but he knows that Grim is interested in helping him now. At least he thought so, but Grim fails to respond and Ace is met with soft snores.

Ace groans, yet another plan of his: failed.

You crawl into bed, hopeful that maybe tonight you can rest. Grim follows suit and snuggles up next to you. He talks to you about the homework and other classes from the day and it’s not unusual. After a period of silence, “You won’t stop being my henchmen, right?”

You ruffle the fur on Grims head and laugh softly, “What gave you that idea? We’re two halves of a whole, literally.”

Grim exclaims and moves away from the hand that pets him, “I knew you would never leave such a great mage such as myself! Ace told me about some dragon and I didn’t want you to think that you were able to have a new master.” He returns to your side and curls up next to you to fall asleep and says nothing, leaving you confused but you brush it off.

Even though Vil had scolded Ace about staying up not long ago, he still dragged himself and Deuce down to the window where they watched you and Malleus meet. It’s been maybe a week since they last saw your rendezvous with the fae, but Ace is determined to make sure it was really.

Deuce yawns from behind him, “Maybe they aren’t in a relationship? It’s ok for them to just be friends…” Deuce’s head clanks against the window as he tries to go back to sleep.

“But the Prefect always wakes up happier when they’ve seen Draconia the night before! And don’t you remember the first night when Rook was here and he said somethin’ about the two being in love?!”

“It’s not that big of a deal is it? Just let the prefect tell us if or when they want. You’re so obsessed over this like you’re in love with the Prefect or something.” The sleepy boy mutters, but Ace picks up on it.

He laughs haughtily, “Like I would be in love with a pathetic person with no magic.” His tone quickly softens as he voices his real concerns, “I just worry about them ya know? Draconia is a scary dude and I wouldn’t want the Prefect to get hurt. Not because I care about them or anything, but because then I wouldn’t have a place to stay when Riddle kicks me out.”

Ace looks out the window for any signs of you but the field in front of the house is empty. He sighs and drags Deuce up the stairs with him.

Green fireflies fill your gaze and your hairs stand on edge at the powerful magic in the air. Despite the odd feeling you can’t help but smile when Tsunotaro appears.

With the VDC competition just around the corner, Vil had given you tickets but as you would be on the side stage you had no use for them. And the only person, well fae, you could think to give them to was Tsunotaro.

“Child of Man, it is always a delight to see you.” He cups your cheek gently.

Despite feeling a little flustered, you continue with what you wanted to say and fish the tickets out of your pocket, unintentionally breaking his hand off. “Vil gave me tickets for the VDC but I don’t have any use for them so I thought I would give them to you! I won’t be the one on stage but I’d still really appreciate it if you came to watch what I helped put together.” You flash a lopsided grin at the fae and hold out the ticket to him.

His eyes widened in shock. “You wish to invite me to this?” You nod earnestly and he laughs. “Perhaps it is because you are not of this world, but you are certainly naive, little one. Very well, but I will need to find an adequate way to pay you back.”

“Oh! That’s not necessary!” You’re about to ramble but Tsunotaro interrupts you with a kiss on the forehead.

“I will have to teach you the rules of the fae soon, Child of Man. But for now, let us go observe the gargoyle on the south grounds together.” He tucks the ticket into his pocket carefully and holds his hand out to you. You take it and he intertwines your fingers easily.

The night before the VDC it seems no one is able to sleep. Crowded around the window are all seven members of the squad, watching as you converse, yet again, with Malleus.

Watching the two of you has become somewhat of a pastime in the time the group has spent in Ramshackle.

But all of them are growing increasingly frustrated at the way both of you seem to skirt around your feelings. Of course, they have no way of knowing what is actually going on as they can’t hear you, but your body language is enough. Plus all the times you’ve woken up and come into practice with a silly lovesick smile is pretty telling.

“He’s standin’ so close to them! Can he just bend over and kiss ‘em?” “It’s absolutely nauseating seeing Draconia like this, doe-eyed for our Manager.” “Do you think the Prefect invited him to the competition tomorrow?”

The boys quiet at the mention of the competition. The whole reason for coming down to peek into your rendezvous with Malleus was to distract themselves from the impending nerves.

Vil is the one to break the anxiety ridden air and ushers all of them up to the room and in good timing too. The door creaks as you come back inside the dorm. Everyone in the dorm is plagued with emotions, good or bad, that make it seemingly impossible to fall asleep.

The day of the VDC comes and everything goes awry at Vil’s overblot. Though it is not your first overblot, being magic-less during it really takes a toll on you. You hate being useless during these times, there’s nothing you can do besides offer moral support, de-escalating the situation after, and a shoulder to cry on.

The adrenaline fades away and the boys collapse on the broken stage. Their heaving breaths are audible and their body language tells you of their exhaustion. You’re not exactly sure what to do, but the presence of powerful yet familiar magic washes over you.

You whip your head around to see the horned fae and you want to run up to him, but you’re just as tired as everyone else plus a little lightheaded from the poisonous air. Instead you simply call out to him, “Tsunotaro! What’re you doing here so early?”

It’s as if everyone sitting in the rubble has regained energy as they all repeat your pet name for the fae, but much louder. Though it’s not a shock that you know him, they’ve all witnessed your late night trysts, but for you to call him ‘Tsunotaro’ instead of something more respectable is… surprising.

Grim’s eyes light up with recognition at the nickname. “This is the ‘Tsunotaro’ ya were fawnin’ over? The nickname makes sense since he does have those horns growin’ out of his head but…” Grim trails off and you’re thankful he shut up. You didn’t need Tsunotaro to hear about your crush on him.

Thankfully he’s grabbed by Deuce so you don’t have to shut the cat up yourself. “Grim, you need to respect your elders,” Deuce scolds through a forced smile.

“It seems I’ve arrived a bit early. Though I’m unaware of how you all expect to perform on a ruined stage.” His tone is a bit teasing and it’s groundbreaking for all that have regarded Malleus as scary. And for those that have interacted with him, it’s weird to hear him talk so tenderly.

“Oh, well you see… there was kind of an overblot.” You smile at him, as if the overblot was not a traumatic experience you and the others barely survived.

Malleus’s eyes widen, “I did not sense an abnormality of magic, nor did anyone else for that matter. I’m pleased to see that you are all okay though.”

He looks around the stadium to assess the damage. “I suppose this counts as my payback for your invite, little one.” He pats your head gently and smiles down at you. The overwhelming sense of power washes over you and sparks seem to fly out of Malleus’s hand. In an instant the previously damaged stage is restored.

“Woah,” you breathe out softly. You look at him with stars in your eyes. You’re still unaccustomed to such flashy magic or really magic at all. The others behind you, while admiring Draconia’s handiwork, are completely astonished, and maybe a little frightened, by the enormous gap in skill.

“Please, such magic is child’s play for a mage of my caliber.” He responds to your praise. Coming from anyone else it would sound arrogant, but as one of the top mages in all of Twisted Wonderland, it was deserved. “I’ll return when the competition draws closer. I expect to be enthralled by your performance, after all it is due to the effort of Schoenheit you have gotten this far.”

The fae walks over to you where you sit and crouches down. He reaches his hand out towards your face but stops just short, hovering and hesitating. Malleus resigns and ends up dropping his hand back to his side all together. You don’t voice your disappointment, but the others do.

There’s a collective groan that’s quick to catch the attention of both you and Malleus. Ace is a myriad of stupid, hence he is the one to speak up out of all the members, “Great Sevens! Are ya shy? The Prefect clearly wants you to kiss them and everyone can tell you want that too so just do it! We watch the two of you meet up practically every night and every single night you chicken out.” Ace sighs, but quickly realizes. “Uh, I mean this in the most respectful way, Mr. Draconia, sir, highness?”

You’re embarrassed, was it really so easy to read your disappointment? But more importantly, “What do you mean by ‘we’? Are you telling me everyone that’s stayed in the dorm has watched me and Tsunotaro hangout?”

You look at them expectantly and see them nod. Jamil scoffs though, “You call that a hangout? It’s without a doubt a date.”

“I didn’t want to assume…” you trail off. You turn your head to look at anywhere but Malleus, embarrassed and a little flustered. It seems like the universe is intent on letting the prince know exactly how you feel.

The boy in question places a hand on your knee to turn your attention to him. “Were you not aware that I am courting you? I thought I made it fairly obvious.” He seems confused but his words have that teasing lilt that seems to become apparent when talking to you.

“Courting is like dating right?” You ask, cocking your head to the side. You hear another collective groan, but it seems Malleus is as clueless as you are.

“Is that what they call it these days?” The fae mirrors your expression. Perhaps this is why the two of you seem to be perfect for each other.

“Please talk about your relationship status later. We need the Prefect for rehearsals.” Vil tells his classmate impatiently. Though he is quite pleased with the events that have unfolded, nights spent at the window watching you two was not a waste after all.

Malleus kisses you swiftly, having made up his mind due to the words from the others. It takes all you have not to grab him by the lapels and keep his lips glued to your own. But having your first kiss with Malleus in front of your friends is enough to remind you to practice self-restraint.

He smiles at you softly, “I will see you later, darling.” He swipes at his uniform, ridding it of any debris and takes his leave after giving you a quick peck. You stare after Malleus longingly before Vil claps his hands.

“As lovely as that was, we have a championship to win.” 

#malleus draconia x reader #twst malleus #malleus #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #malleus x you #malleus x mc #malleus x yuu #malleus x y/n #twisted wonderland #twst x mc #twst x yuu #twst x reader #vdc #ramshackle #disney twst #malleus draconia x yuu #twst mc #twst imagines #mallyuu #[ lee's writing ] #[ + ] twisted wonderland #! malleus draconia

[ebbaskz]

needy!jisung messages (m, f)

pairing : han jisung x reader (y/n)

content : explicit 18+, sexting, horny!jisung, skz away on tour, teasing reader, nudes sent, audio messages, kinda subby!jisung, also a cute little mutual appreciation at the end

includes : 3 ss and a written portion

You are already rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to gain any sort of friction on them. Jisung being away on tour just made him more needy then your boyfriend already was when he was home. You couldn’t lie though, it was so hot to see him bothered like this. Teasing him along with it was just apart of your own fun.

You click on the audio message as soon as it is sent, and a quick second of silence is heard before the rhythmic thwacking of what you can assume to be Jisung frantically chasing after his high.

“Baby- fuck. Baby I can’t with you. Sending me pictures like that-“

A shallow gasp is heard at the break in his words, making you giddy as you imagine him playing with his slit in the way that you do when he’s needy like this.

“I love the way you play with me, love. I need to be home as soon as possible. I don’t think i can wait another week to finally have your tight pussy wrapped around me again…”

You clench at the thought, suddenly becoming insanely aware of the emptiness that’s inside of you, pushing you to reach your hands further down into your pants to play with yourself at the sound of your boyfriends erotic moans and whimpers.

The thwacking continues as Jisung stops speaking for a moment, just breathing and whimpering so loudly into the microphone of his phone that you genuinely shiver, remembering every time that he has breathed down your neck, practically sobbing out his words, as he works harder to finally cum inside of you.

“Baby I can’t hold it in anymore. Please tell me you will cum with me, y/n. My baby- Please- fuck-“

His words stop being understandable as he whimpers out a high pitch moan that ultimately sends you over your edge, reaching your free hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt of not trying to wake up your entire apartment floor.

After his break in silence, a quick rustling of the bed sheets is heard over the voice message, reminding you of the fact that he was still recording as you blearily come down from your high.

“Y/n… I’m so in love with you, baby… Have a good sleep, my love… I’ll see you soon.”

And you are suddenly a teenager in love, kicking your feet and smiling like an absolute child. The butterflies have never felt stronger. You already knew that Jisung was in love with you, but it never felt any less significant as he continued to say it.

You quickly hustle to write back a response, hoping that he would still be awake after the time you spent listening to his voice memo.

a/n : HEY POOKS! first time writing anything moderately explicit. i hope this jisung gets more recognition because i NEED a pookie jisung like this ☹️☹️ this did turn out pretty well i’d say, lmk if anyone has any more requests! - eb

#stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids smut #han jisung fake texts #han jisung smut #han jisung #han smut #han x reader #skz fake texts #stray kids fake texts

[greyfics]

even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

pairing: the ghoul (cooper howard) x reader fic type: enemies to lovers, no smut, mild spice + eventual fluff slow burn meter: ◈◈◇◇◇ word count: 3.8K inspo: TPD lyric prompt list, reblogged on main reader type: assumed wastelander background, gender neutral, 'I don't need a knight to save me', assumed negative views of BoS, assumed gun for hire cw: strong language, violence, reference to fictional drugs, mild dismemberment summary: reader is a gun for hire who has gotten themselves into a bit of trouble in the form of a moderate bounty with a local segment of the brotherhood- and cooper howard knows he can get all the drugs he needs for what seems like an easy job.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

"We can do this all day, darlin'. Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leavin' here with you." you feel the pressure of a pistol barrel pressing against the base of your skull from behind, and a disgruntled, defeated sigh slips through your lips. The game is up- you're out of ammo, down to the ripper hanging from your side, and 'gun against the brain-cage' is the indisputable checkmate.

Up to this point, you'd been pretty successful in shaking off the swathes of bounty hunters and jet-scrounging raiders that'd been on your tale since you became an enemy to the brotherhood- which, nowadays, seemed to be a pretty fucking easy feat to accomplish. The rusty knights were getting a little big for their oversized, several-tonne boots- and you had never been a fan of self-asserting authorities using their power in the name of 'order', especially not when they could hardly organise their own little sectors across the expansive, sparse remains of the USA.

As good with a revolver as you are, today it seems your luck has ran out and your karma has caught up with you, because you've finally met your match in a ghoul with a face so smug you wish you at least had a chance to slap it before losing the game of cat and mouse you'd been playing for a couple days now across Junktown. Your face collides into concrete and a quick click combines with the feel of steel against your wrists, The Ghoul's threat having evolved into a promise.

You spit a ball of blood and saliva from your mouth, wrought up by the hard impact with the ground below, "Alright, you win this round you freak- I'll come with you, just get these off of me." You hear a smirk from above, "Now how stupid do you fuckin' think I am? No, I gave you a chance to come willingly, you chose to shoot me in the leg. Lucky I ain't returned the favour." He gives you a light, sharp kick in the side with the tip of his boot, "Up. We got a long way to travel, and sooner we get there, sooner I get paid. I'll be reminding you now that I only get a bonus for bringing you alive, so make my life hell and I'll live without the extra caps." "Not exactly easy when my-" you hear the chick of a safety being cocked, and awkwardly shuffle back until you can jut sharply up onto your knees and slowly stand, turning to glare daggers into your now captor. The Ghoul's expression remains stiffly affixed with the wry, smug facade he bears: relaxed, squinting eyes peeking out above a thin, ever-upturned lip- you swear to yourself to you'll smack that smile off his face- but by all accounts, beneath the withered, decaying skin that had festered in his ghoulish transformation, the man had the stature (and admittedly, the jawline) of a filmstar.

You shake off the irritable possibility of monster like this getting lucky with the gene pool as a calloused hand secures a vice grip on one of your wrists and tugs you in suit as it's owner sets into motion, dragging you away from the remnants of an old civilisation and towards a military base miles away you are all too acquainted with.

You had been so caught up in the wild ride of adrenaline that came with being on the lamb that you briefly detached yourself from the catalyst of the chase- but as concrete and clay inevitably crumbles away to distant sandy dunes and cacti, the dread stirs in your stomach like a plague. It was easier to wave off the consequences of your actions when you weren't being marched towards the gallows to face them- it wasn't like you made an attack on the organisation. You kill one knight trashing up a town in the name of redundant technology, and suddenly you're on a hit-list. You know The Ghoul probably doesn't know this, and you know for certain that even if you tried to give the man a sob story he wouldn't care. This was it. "You about to be sick?" You snap from your pessimistic daze at the sudden interruption of silence, "No. Why?" "You look like you just ate a mouldy iguana, that's why- and I don't want sick on my boots." You let out an irked groan, and sharply snap your head to face the horizon in the opposite direction to your captor. You hope this will satiate his sour jabs for the time being-

Your hope is crushed five minutes later.

"Go on then. I'm bored shitless and I'm outta jet, so spill." He says with an almost theatrical exasperation in his voice, "Spill what, exactly?" you coldly respond in a mute tone, focus still fixed on the horizon to the west, "Well what's the big story? Someone's always gotta be the victim when they got a bounty on their head, so what's the tragic tale behind 'Y/N', huh?" the muscles in your neck and shoulders tense up at the mention of your name- you weren't exactly a known associate or long-time rival to the brotherhood, and the wanted poster you had wrestled from the stiff fingertips of a raider last week only had a sketch and a scrawled account of the incident. You falter for a moment before replying, but ardently avoid taking the bait, "If your plan is to get me to tell you how we got to where we are right now just so you can mock me, then I think I'd rather carry on enjoying the view, if you don't mind." The sweet-toned sarcasm at the end of your sentence seeps with venom, and the hostility it implies does not slip away from your adversary.

This time, his laugh is a soft, whisper of a chuckle- something spiteful, foreboding- followed by matching words, "You should hear what your little community had to say about you for a couple caps and a promise not to shoot anybody- well, anybody else-" his words cut into something personal, then- and though you would normally know that attacking someone with your hands cuffed behind your back is never going to end in your favour, at this moment you couldn't care less as you swing your leg round in a swift roundhouse motion, and raise your knee towards the only place you can think to leave a mark-

You hit your target, but instead of howls of pain you are met with a split second of awkward silence as the ghoul cocks his head, unimpressed, before slamming it into your own, sending you staggering back a few paces-

Before you can reorient your vision, a heavy dull force plummets into your ribs- the sand cushions your blow slightly better than the concrete you met face-to-face with an hour ago, at least. Your arms, however, are not grateful to be pressed beneath you as a familiar, withered hand pushes into your throat, putting as much pressure on your trapped limbs when your upper body presses back as it does on your esophagus, halting your air supply as he lowers himself down to a kneel and fixes your gaze onto his,

"If I wasn't already a walking corpse, that could've really hurt- not a very nice thing to do to someone just tryna have a little bit of light conversation now, is it?" All you can do is glower through eyes blinded by the sun, which gleams behind the shadow of the ghoul's head, bearing on it a smile tweaked with frustration- you need to breathe- you can't keep this up, your heartbeat is louder than the sun in your eyes and-

The pressure releases. You turn your head to the ground and suck in air between dry, heavy coughs, and after you've finally steadied your breath, you find a minor fleck of relief in being hoisted up from the ground this time instead of scrabbling to get up at gunpoint. You wonder, perhaps, if this is some small act driven by guilt- perhaps this man had a conscience once and a set of values beyond doing what it takes to ensure one's own survival. You were a gun for hire yourself, so it would be hypocritical to criticise your captor for his line of work- mostly, you preferred to stick with jobs guarding merchant caravans and to take out bands of raiders harassing the cities you passed through, but you never questioned the legitimacy of the requests you received, or the cargo you oversaw; you had settled for a little while, having stuck around the same little settlement for a few years now and had started to develop some semblance of a connection to the people there-

or so you thought.

You know you're going to be walking for a while- so with a resigned breath, you begin saying what little there is left to say about your present situation, "Well, you probably know most of what I can tell you from the sounds of things, but I guess there's nothing else for me to do right now, and the horizon is the same no matter where you go around here. I guess you could say we're in similar lines of work, but that's not really what got me in trouble with The Brotherhood. They think they can rock up in a power armour with a logo on it and wreak havoc as they please because it's for 'the greater good', but they leave towns half-destroyed when they pass through. I didn't want that to happen to... well, I didn't like the sound of that happening where I was. So, dude gets out of his power armour and starts waving guns around screaming about some piece of pre war tech or the other, and I tell him with... a strong choice of words, to get going. He starts running for the power armour, guns blazing- and I just have better aim, I guess. Not even like I got paid for killing him, either. Maybe that would've made this whole thing a little bit sweeter."

Your profession leaves a silence hanging in the air for a little while after, but it feels appropriate. The dunes filter sand from the far west to respond to your story- the horizon quivers, but only through the illusion of heat; the sand dries your eyes before they have reason to shed tears. A loaded sigh escapes the ghoul in front of you, and the clasp on your wrist softens but for a moment before stiffening to pull you onwards, "Yep, well, caps keep you going a little longer round these parts, but money can't solve all your problems." "You should tell that to the Brotherhood. They seem to be doing pretty well for all the wealth they've hoarded- can even pay big time bounty hunters to do their shitwork from the looks of things." You retort, but after a moment follow up with, "Wish I could say I was upset about it but hell, if I were you, I'd turn me in too."

You hear that soft chuckle again, but when you turn around to catch a look at the face that matches it, you see relaxed muscles and a far-off stare- he won't let you go, but he has let his guard down but a little bit- perhaps when we get closer to my story's end, he'll even let me walk to my death with my hands unbound.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

After trudging on in silence for a while, head bowed to your fatalistic contemplations, you find as you drag yourself out of the pit in your head and look over the horizon once more that the scene has changed: the atomic orange dewdrops spattering the sky not long ago have quickly to faded into a bruised overhanging shadow of violent, lavender, crimson; twilight approaches, and you're still surrounded by desert hills and illusions.

One of these illusory quivers catches your sharp eye, a dark blip that has appeared somewhere in that distance; it's moving, but it isn't close enough for you to determine whether it's just a trick of the heat or whether it's something heading in your direction. Your brow furrows, but you say nothing yet.

Within a minute, the object comes into better focus- or, rather, the creature. Your heart skips a beat, and you open your mouth to utter some kind of warning, managing to rasp, "Get the handcuffs off of me." "Now, darlin', I thought we managed to get past this already-" "No-" You tug your bound wrists, pulling the ghoul into your side- his other arm steadies itself against your shoulder before slipping up to your jaw and dragging it to face him, his own clenched and unaccompanied by a smile this time- the pallid complexion of your own face gives him enough pause for you to blurt in a fruitless, strained whisper, "Deathclaw."

If The Ghoul's skin could have paled more than it already had in his lifeless state, then it might have at that moment. The tight grip holding you against him slackens completely and you thud onto your ass as he draws his guns and casts you a playfully pitiful glance from above, shrugging and saying, "Sorry, darlin', guess I forgot to pick up the keys." He steps in front of you as a curse rips out of your throat in the sudden panic that ensues, and you try to muster enough brain cells in this moment to figure out a way of not dying, prematurely, and becoming just another skeletal curio.

There's the back-up plan, the 'if shit goes south' plan that you still hadn't gone through with because of the possible dismemberment that it might entail- but you had not been unarmed when you had been restrained earlier, and the phantom hum of a ripper blade always strapped to your waist as your last resort. You won't be able to wield it with any competence with your hands restrained as they are, but you can hit the power button from your current position-

Though, usually, you'd prefer to do it when the blade was already in your hand, not digging into the side of your leg.

shredded leg is better than deathclaw snack. Your astute analysis confirms your decision, and with a grunt and a whack, the blade starts chugging into a steady whirring action by the will of the dregs of an energy cell embedded inside- the next couple of seconds are far too long.

The blade begins it's excursion into your thigh as the gunslinging ghoul whips around at the sound, eyes wide at the sudden display of spraying crimson. You scream, struggle to try to align the cuffs without jerking your shoulders out of place. The deathclaw bounds into the mid-distance, closing in upon it's approach- it caught your scent before you could even see it's silhouette-

The tip disappears as your leg reflexively jerks, responding to the dancing jig of the chainsaw blade- you see pathetic sparks as the thing bounces off of the cuffs- strong enough to sever a leg, too rusted and battered to cut through metal. Your plan is failing. Your leg is bleeding. The cowboy falters as the deathclaw closes further-

You make a snap decision: fingers are easier to fix than legs.

You twist your wrist, and the pain just melts into the already existing burn emanating from your leg- a bloody, three-fingered stump slips from it's cage, and you swing your still-cuffed hand around in a fluid movement to drag the ripper from its sheath within your leg, snapping the cord that ties it to your waist-

You hear a frenzied firing of a revolver, but the approaching thunks are unimpeded- and though you know your leg may give way when the adrenaline finally dies, and though you know you need to find the two fingers you lost before sand vipers snatch them up and you're known as three-fingered y/n for the rest of your life- you launch yourself from the ground on your good leg, and stagger towards the approaching beast.

You grew up in the wastelands. You grew up in a settlement up here that, like any of the rest, was constantly plagued by critters and beasts- and if you were taught anything by the survivors that surrounded you, it was the following:

If you can't blow the bastard up, get 'em in the belly.

The deathclaw- a baby, thankfully- has it's gaze fixated on the man that had in the past half a minute become it's primary aggressor- so when you stumble forward, low and bleeding, with what to the creature is just another indistinguishable bit of metal in your hands, it does not see reason to change the track of it's jump.

As it launches itself above you, you pray to lady luck that you hit your mark.

An ear-splitting yowl and a sudden muffled crash tells you she's listening, for once.

Finally, after a few ragged breaths, the adrenaline wears off and you feel the weight of your body pressing into the wounds that liberated you- and the blueberry sky fades to black as you become weightless. This time, your fall is of your own accord- and this time, something stops you from hitting the ground.

- °•. ✦ .•° -

When you come to, you do not open your eyes at first- awake though you might be, your body is heavy with exhaustion. Before your encounter with the ghoul, you had been on the run for weeks, and in the last twenty four hours had not had time to stay put long enough to sleep. Coupled with the rough journey and the blood loss, you couldn't move if you wanted to. That being said, in those few dark minutes, a few things of note still catch your attention.

There is a faint crackling to your side, and the lulling warmth of a fire that brushes in waves against your face- and though you feel the silky grains of sand cushioning most of your resting body, your head lays higher up, neck leaning up to a more elevated surface- your attention snaps to the light sensation of fingertips absently grazing your neck in a repeating pattern, and the distant hum of an old country song embedded into muscle memory. The surrounding sensations are a strange comfort for all the brutal imagery this post apocalyptic world usually beholds; but it is brief, as your neck tenses, giving away your lucidity. The hand pauses, lifts- settles somewhere to the side.

When you dare to open your eyes, you are unsurprised to see the question-begging smirk and sharp eyes peering down from above, "Have a good nap?" You bolt upright, and immediately regret it when the bending of your leg snags one of the stitches you didn't know had been sewed into you until just now. Defeated, you flop back down, turning your head to the side to gaze into the dying embers of the fire beside you- praying you can brush off the flush of blush creeping into your face to the influence of the fire. Eventually you garner the courage to speak, "Feels like I've only been out for an hour." He snorts, shaking his head, "You went down around sunset, and it'll be sunrise in a couple hours." This catches you by surprise, and not just because of the amount of time you've lost, "What happened to getting your caps as soon as possible? Lost a lot of time waiting." He frowns, but does not lose his grin, "You trying to get yourself killed? 'Cos you've done a damn fine job of that so far. No, I've just been doing some thinking." "Congratulations. I'm proud of you." His eyes narrow into slits and he tuts at your sarcasm, following your gaze into the fire, "See, it could be argued that I would've been minced ghoul splattered n' buried six feet under the dunes if you hadn't gone all psycho slicing yourself up like that to get that baby deathclaw where it hurts." "That was a baby?-" "Anyway, guess my point is I might be willing to do a lot of things, but I still got my principles- only human thing I got left, probably. So I'd say I owe it you to not kill you at least. When you can walk, we'll go east to- well, to what's left of Shady Sands, and then you can do whatever the fuck you want."

You consider his words, and not knowing how to express appreciation or what to begin to make of this mysterious stranger and his obscure appeal, you find yourself rejecting this suggestion, though you don't know why- and so naturally, you dig yourself into a hole, "Well, you could also say that I would have died of blood loss if you didn't stitch my leg up." He studies you then for a minute, before shrugging and clasping your hands together at the wrists. You begin to stammer indecipherable protest and with a smirk he pulls you up, your hands still held rigid in your lap by his own, his head resting on your shoulder as he murmurs, "Now, I'm starting to get the impression you want me to march you up to our friends at the brotherhood just to keep my company." If he can't see the warm hue in your face now, he can certainly feel the heat flushing through your flustered face- you fight against the feeling, if only to make sure you stand a chance of winning this little exchange,

"Says the man who watched me sleep all night." You feel him shrug your comment off as his grin extends, "I might look like a monster, but I was a gentleman once upon a time. Like I say, I got principles." He lets you slip forward out of his grasp when you move to shuffle yourself around. As you do, you feel for the first time you are looking at him properly, sincerely- face to face, on equal grounds, with no threats of death or necessary facades of false confidence. After soaking in as much as you allow yourself to without losing yourself to curiosity entirely, you crossing your arms across your chest, and reply,

"Well, I have principles too- and if you're oh so graciously not turning me into the brotherhood then I still I owe you, so I guess I'll just have to stick around until you nearly get yourself killed again- that's all. No other reason." The ghoul rises, resting a hand on his pistol,

"You tell yourself that, darlin'- I'm gonna enjoy this change of scenery, I think."

#greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ 01 ] #greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ cooper howard ] #greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ fallout ] #greyfics ✰°.• ➸ [ x reader ] #cooper howard x reader #the ghoul x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x you #fallout fanfic #cooper howard fanfic #the ghoul fanfic #x reader #greyfics #fallout tv series #I know that the way I used the lyric does not match the lyric but hey don't knock the weird literal train of inspiration #may rewrite to polish a couple details nagging at me but have put way too much time into fidgeting around with the words for now hehe #also I feel like this definitely has second part potential if I want to divvy into it in the future so #note to self for that one

[mamayan]

I would murder for more Aizawa but that's not what this ask is about tee hee~

My boy Mirio except it's him and reader's first time and reader can't keep up with his stamina 👉🏽👈🏽

Ah yes, my golden boy. My golden retriever. My goodest boy award winning champion. Mirio Togata! Your request is comin’ right up! ♡ not proof read!

☆彡Moderation★彡

Mirio Togata x Fem! Reader

CW: Established Relationship • Future AU • NSFW • Fluff! • Virgin! Mirio • Virgin! Reader • Penetration • Praise • Overstimulation • Humor (he’s a goof) • Fingering (F) • Oral (F) • Size Kink • Creampie

He’s looking at you again.

With those eyes. The ones that sparkle and say “look at how cute I am!” while a pink hue covers his cheeks.

You pointedly ignore the look, resuming work on your laptop while he sulks over on the couch. You weren’t going to give in, he’s had a long day of patrols as a pro-hero, and needed to be prioritizing sleep. Hence, why you’re working even though your boyfriend arrived late in the evening to see you. His face popping through your front door to announce his presence nearly sending you to an early grave.

“Hey babe! I brought Thai food—,”

“Kyaaa!” You’d thrown the cup you’d been washing right at him. The ceramic mug neatly caught in his hand, also coming through your door. His boisterous laugh only earning him an earful as you repeat your request for him to knock like a normal person.

“Sorry, I always forget! I just get so excited to see you!” You can imagine a golden fluffy tail wagging behind him and droopy ears on his head. His attitude akin to your neighbor’s dog.

“What’re you doing here so late Mirio?” Your pointed look had him deflating, and it makes your chest feel stuffy to see him so.

“I just wanted to see you…?” How were you supposed to send him away?

“When is the last time you’ve had a full night’s rest? You need to sleep Mirio.” Your worry far greater than anything else as you fret over him. He sets the food down in the kitchen, moving his tall and imposing frame towards you. You’re quickly wrapped in his strong arms, squished gently to his chest as he just breathes you in for a moment. It’s impossible not to relax, to let him take a little weight despite it being him who needs the burden lightened. “I just want you to take care of yourself…” your sweet confession has him nearly dropping to one knee, but well aware a marriage proposal so quick to your new relationship might have you scampering away.

“Hmm, then, could I stay the night here?” His words have you tensing up nervously, aware of the implication and not naive to what it can lead to.

You don’t mind, really, but once again your thoughts stick to his lack of sleep and self care lately. He’s been working nearly 18 hours a day for the last week! It’s a criminal offense, those hours.

That’s how you’re here now. Finishing up work and trying to pointedly ignore Mirio’s soft blue eyes glittering for your attention. Despite his size and figure, his face makes even children trusting of him, looking incapable of bringing harm. You fell in love with the man for far more than just such simply reasons, but it certainly wasn’t a disservice that your boyfriend was so cute.

You don’t notice he’d snuck up on you, only startling as thickly corded arms snake over your shoulders and chest. He leans his head on top of yours, looking down at your work.

“Mirio, you can stay here, but go to bed please—,”

“Are you scared?” His questions pauses your rant, and you tense under the weight he’s leaned on you. The slight change in demeanor is all he needs to drop his arms, and you’re a little embarrassed and ashamed when he moves away from you.

Only for his hands to grip the bottom of your chair and turn you completely around.

He’s crouching down now, though with his height and size, even with you sitting he’s nearly eye level with you. His face, normally like sunshine and smiling, is uncharacteristically stoic. His gaze somewhat darkened as he seems to silently command your full attention.

“Sunshine,” you try not to show how the pet name makes your heart flutter, “If my presence is making you feel pressured in any way, I promise it is no big deal for me to go sleep on the couch, on the floor, or go home.” You go to open your mouth, defensive because you didn’t want him to leave or sleep anywhere but on a comfortable bed. He’s quick to gently wrap a large hard over your jaw, hushing you as making you look up at he stands to loom over you.

It’s not threatening. Even with how big and bulky the blonde is, his aura of protection and kindness is undeniable.

“I want you, all of you, but do not doubt for one second in your mind that I am a man who can’t wait. I have never loved a woman like I love you, I’m nervous and scared too, I’m not experienced nor can I confidently say I’m going to always be able to keep my excitement in check but…” he leans closer, you can feel the warmth of his breath and smell his cologne. “I will always respect what you want.”

He finishes so firmly, no room for any other thoughts but his sincerity, that you feel your eyes water and lip wobble. How many losers had you dated before, who grew vicious and mean when you rejected them? How many said hateful words and comments like that’d make you any more open to sex? How many left you because you wanted to get to know them as a person before you let yourself be so vulnerable?

“I love you too,” your voice is a little hoarse, but you wrap your hands around his wrist, keeping his touch on you as you let yourself relax. You look up, to his soft shining eyes and sweet smile, and you can’t help mimicking it. Letting your lips tilt up because even though your heart is so full it feels like it’ll overflow, you are happy and so sure of him. You’ve been sure of him, but the topic and approach just lost on you. He’s been so busy working as a hero as well, saving lives and people, that you’ve felt guilty taking time he could be resting away from him.

“You aren’t tired?” You feel so shy, despite knowing him and always being so comfortable around him. It feels different.

“Not even a little.” He chuckles, and you’re truly gone as you move one hand away from his wrist to curl into the fabric of his t-shirt. Tugging him down further, so you could kiss him. Slot your lips against his thin and soft ones, and further solidify your resolve.

“Let’s go to bed Mirio…” you break the kiss, to really look into his eyes. They widen slightly, and his face flushes deeper than you’ve ever seen before as he stutters out, “A-are you sure? Like… uh, just bed or…?” You giggle, grinning as you feel your nerves evaporate in the presence of his.

This big strong pro-hero, stuttering and blushing while waving his hand in panic, because you invited him to bed.

“No, not just bed, unless you lied and you really are tired?” Your sly smile and quirked brow set him off, his huff and grumble as he scoops you up into a Princess carry adorable.

“Not tired…” he grumps, marching you nearly mechanically to your room, toeing the door open and setting you down on your mattress. He nervously rubs a hand on the back of his neck, not looking at you as he mumbles a bit awkwardly.

“Okay… so you said not just bed, but could you possibly say… it?” He’s sheepish and you feel overcome with the need to tease him. You bat your lashes, looking coy and so beautiful he really finds it difficult to swallow as he looks down at you before averting his eyes again, trying to stay on topic.

“Say what Mirio…?” You sit up on your knees, reaching to hook a finger in his belt loop and tug him closer. You hardly have to use any strength, his body automatically following your nonverbal orders perfectly. Your head is at his chest like this, perfect height to run your hands softly over his torso and slip under his jacket to push it off his shoulders.

He lets you. No fight or push back in him as you feel yourself becoming emboldened. He makes you feel confident. Like whatever you’re doing, however you’re doing it, is right in his book. Maybe it’s just right that you’re touching him.

“Say that I love you…?” You’re clearly teasing, your smile too saccharin and eyes too mischievous. He chuckles, soft and quiet, keeping his hands off you but allowing you full access to him. It’s on purpose.

“I love you too pretty girl, but not quite what I meant…” his jacket drops to the ground, and you’re working on his shirt next, shivering at the feel of his solid muscles beneath your finger tips.

“Oh? Say that I’m so lucky you’re mine…?” He wants to touch you, but he also doesn’t want to ruin your fun. It’s a battle of will for him at the moment. When your soft small hands can’t reach any farther to push his shirt off and he has to help you, his jeans feel too tight.

“Fuck, I’m lucky you’re mine, my girl who loves to tease me.” You giggle again, feeling jittery and aroused as he throws his shirt next to his jacket, upper body naked and in full view for your eyes to feast on. You’re hands aren’t innocent either, and while you’ve felt him up plenty during your make out sessions… once more it feels different. Warmer and more passionate.

“Mhm… then, say I want you to make love to me? That I want you inside of me? To touch me?” He moans, shivers racking his body visibly as he finally gets his permission to touch you.

You squeal in excitement as he pushed you, your back hitting the soft sheets as he leans over you with a wicked grin. He looks victorious. “You said,” is all you get before he’s kissing you like lives depend on it, lips parting for his tongue to invade and swirl around your own. Nipping and sucking on your lips as his calloused hands run up your sides and squeeze you. You moan up into the kiss, muffled as you wrap your arms around his neck to anchor him to you. Your hands naughty, moving to run through his soft locks and tugging.

He groans, pulling away and grunting when you do it again, his gaze darker than before as he smiles. “Keep teasing me baby, you look so pretty like this.” You gasp in pleasure as he grips your sleep shorts, yanking them down and swiftly off your legs. They’re tossed to the floor as he does the same to your shirt, leaving you beneath him in only a thin bra and panties.

It’s the most he’s ever seen of you.

You don’t get a chance to feel anything but purely embarrassed as he moans, his forehead connecting with your chest as he grips your arms tightly. “S-sorry, just—you’re so cute. I need a moment.” You heat up, stomach filled with butterflies as you huff a laugh. His display dramatic but endearing. It’s not hard to make him sit up, as your hands go to his jeans and work on opening them up, setting off a whole new display of theatrics.

“Fuck, fuck, your hands look so cute, do you want me to help? No? Oh, oh fuck so soft, wait—,” you don’t wait, not when he sounds so desperate, no when you’re so desperate. Just to touch him. Feel him. Make this powerful pro-hero adored by the masses crumple under your hand, because of you. You try not to make a face, as your hand finally does feel and wrap around him… and your fingers don’t quite all touch around. No, you try not to flinch or show your astonishment because only pornos had actors this big, but Mirio is hanging on to your every reaction. He doesn’t miss it. You wince, lips parting a bit as his pants hang off his hips and you hold his hard cock in your hand.

It’s hot, physically hotter than the rest of his body, and you’re slightly clammy as you give a few experimental jerks like you’ve seen in videos.

“Ah, mhm, here baby, like this…” his hands are so much bigger than your own, it’s more obvious as one wraps around yours to show you how he likes to be touched. He tightens his hold, moaning a bit as he watches and essentially uses your hand like a sex toy. Harder and faster than you’d done it, working his uncut cock up further and somewhat strangling to tip before dropping back down. You’re enthralled, watching the reddened head leak all over you both, his pre-cum copious, helping as a lubricant to make the movements easier.

“Does it feel good?” You can’t help it, as he semi leans over you and masturbates with your hand, you ask a somewhat rhetorical question.

His smile melts the anxiety like the sun melts ice. “I feel like I’m going to die I’m so close to coming.” His honest answer has you simmering. “Is that okay? Can I cum for you?” His breathing is labored, little grunts and moans mingled but he doesn’t look away from you or the soft skin revealed to his eyes.

“Y-yes…” you feel silly for the words which nearly came out, but he seems to see right through you.

“I need you to say it more clearly.” He’s moving his hips now, pushing more of his fat cock through the grip of your fist and making the muscles in your hand ache, but you refuse to release tension. You swallow the embarrassment, because this is Mirio and even if he did laugh, wouldn’t you follow too?

“I want you to cum for me Mirio, cum in my mouth.” It sounds like a line torn from a sex tape, but it’s a line which apparently has him seizing up because suddenly your yanked forward into a sitting position. His cock right by your lips, his hand using your own to work himself furiously as you instinctively open just before he gasps and his load shoots in spurts onto your tongue and lips. “So hot, fuck you’re so hot, so pretty like this…ah,” his head is thrown back as he slows his vicious abuse, your concern for his well being unnecessary as he comes down from his euphoria. You swallow, and while you’d heard horror stories of how men taste, you note it’s mild and a little salty. He doesn’t taste bad at all.

Your hand is sticky and wet as you pull it off him, shiny strings of pre-cum and actual cum breaking off his softening erection as peer up at him.

Despite having a redder than usual face, Mirio looks the same. Grinning and proud looking as he shuffles off the bed to fully remove his clothes.

You really thank whatever star granted you such a man. His entire body sculpted and powerful, each muscle on display and you giggle as he flexes dramatically for you, climbing back onto the bed and encouraging you to lie back. “Thank you sweet girl, but don’t you think I also deserve a taste?” His innuendo not lost on you. Your heart picks up, but you nod with a nervous smile as you let him strip your remaining undergarments off so he could have full access to you.

Like with everything about Mirio, he isn’t shy.

Quick to use those big hands to spread your thigh, keeping you open with his own as his hands smooth up your hips, over you soft belly and up to your breasts where he leans over to capture a nipple in his mouth. You can’t quiet the noise it draws from you, your hands tangling again in his hair as you moan. His tongue lavishing your hardening nipple, wetting it and sucking as he stares and tracks every little piece of information you give to him. Like learning the moves of a villain in battle, Mirio is consciously memorizing your movements and habits to see what makes you react more.

Your hips move against nothing, his thighs keeping you spread and your wet cunt exposed to the cool air in the room as you twist and writhe beneath him. He’s gentle, even as he nips and sucks bruising marks onto your chest and up as he kisses to your jaw. “Mirio…” you mumble so sweetly it makes his teeth ache, and he doesn’t stop himself from sinking into your neck a little roughly with his teeth. Your sharp gasp turning into a moan as he licks the sting away.

“You’re so cute, so precious, all mine. I’m so lucky, aren’t I?” He’s murmuring against you, finally bringing his lips up again to kiss you deeply. His tongue and scent distracting as he lets a finger trail through your slick, jolting you with the shock of pleasure as he brushes over your clit. “Does it feel good?” His teasing voice is right beside your ear, and while you can’t see him, you know he’s enjoying the payback. You huff a laugh, hardly focused on his words as you’re forced to accept the minuscule stimulation he’s giving. Teasing and not enough.

You turn your head, using your grip in his hair to make him stay while you whisper in his ear. “It feels so good… but it’d feel better inside me.” He groans, his cock once again aching and hard as he rests his head in the crook of your neck while he allows his finger to push inside your pussy. If you’d thought his cock was hot, you had no idea how warm inside you were. Mirio momentarily stunned by the intensity of your body temperature as he’s forced to imagine the tight wet space stretching to fit him.

“I think I’m going to lose my mind…” his whisper is barely audible, and you don’t get a chance to question him as he adds another finger, this time you feel the stretch. “Mirio, oh,” you tremble beneath him, hands leaving his hair to wrap around his free hand braced on your hip. You can’t help but watch, feeling so wound up felt both incredible and frustrating all at once. “I want to cum, Mirio, please,” your little whines and moans were already leaving him dizzy, but your begging with those wide watery eyes made it hard not to get rougher with you. Your pussy soaked his hand, the wet squelching of each thrust of his fingers inside of your gooey walls making you twist and grind your hips onto him.

“M’gonna cum…” the build it up quick and slow all at once, Mirio finally hitting a spot inside that had stars bursting in your eyes. The tight coil in your belly snaps as you shake and come apart for him. “That’s it, so good…” he’s working you down slowly, easing the speed and intensity as you come down, kissing your forehead so gently.

You drowsily look up at him, as he brings his fingers to his lips and noisily sucks each one clean as he holds eye contact. You huff in embarrassment, trying not to show how arousing the display truly way. “Do you think you could cum on my tongue next baby?” His serious expression was enough to have you focusing despite the lull of your body.

He wants to make you come again?

You couldn’t help but feel giddy, nodding and letting out a happy giggle as he kissed your cheeks, nose, and lips. “Thank you pretty girl.” He never ceased to amaze, because should it be you who was thankful? It hardly mattered as your attention drifted to his lips traveling down, leaving marks in his path to your sopping wet pussy.

“So pretty,” he chuckles as you shy away, feeling odd having him just stare at you. His hands moving to spread the lips of your cunt to stare at your twitching hole he wanted to fill so badly. His blue eyes are nearly black, his pupils blown wide and face so flushed he appears intoxicated. “Don’t just stare—oh!” He’s on his elbows the next moment, hooking around your thighs and spreading you wider as he comes within an inch of touching your pussy. His mischievous gaze holding your own as he sticks his tongue out to lick one fat strip up your folds.

“Fuck,” you shudder, the foreign feeling consuming. So much softer than any toy or time you’ve used your fingers. It’s feather light at first, ticklish and textured as he laves at your clit lazily, letting you adjust to the sensations. It’s not long before your hips are wiggling, your little moans getting louder. The sounds of him lapping at your cunt naughty and arousing to your ears. Your hands were back into his hair, trying to pull him closer as he experiments with pressure, speed, and location.

Direct kitten licks to your clit drives you wild, the soft little sweet sensations making you shiver and gasp. His tongue delving inside of you makes you grind harder against him, soaking his face. When he sucks on your clit though, you come almost instantly, crying out in panic as he tears a viscous orgasm from you too quickly.

“Mirio! Hgh!” Your back arches off the mattress, and you nearly tear his hair out as he watches up in amazement as you jerk in his hold, further soaking him as you come. He didn’t expect such an intense release, but as you twitch and gasp for air he kindly wastes none of your release. Licking you up and moaning as the mental video of you shattering beneath him plays.

“That was perfect, you did perfect, thank you,” he’s kissing you senseless, pushing the taste of your own release into your mouth as he knocks your thighs almost painfully far apart and settles himself between them. You felt so small like this, caged in by his enormous frame and kind eyes. His hair messy and falling a bit into his face as he traces his thumb over your cheek. Letting you fully catch your breath.

“How do you feel? Are you tired?” His question sparks a bit of rebellion in you, as you eye him with the same pout he’d aimed at you earlier tonight and the same words, “Not even a little.”

He laughs, boisterous as he pulls you into a hug so familiar and like Mirio, nuzzling into you and kissing you with such affection it makes you laugh as well. “I love you sunshine, you know that?”

“I do now,” you quip, kissing his nose as he grins.

“Good,” he kisses you deeper, pulling your focus to his lips as he grips his leaking cock and lines himself up, letting your slick coat his tip as he pressed forward a little.

The sting is a bit sharper than you expected. Gasping into the kiss and making him pause as he checks on you.

“M’fine,” you’re forced to verbally assure, least he stop and you wouldn’t put it past him to do so.

“You tell me if I’m hurting you, promise?” You nod, doing your best now not to let even a peep even as you feel the stretch and burn of him pushing inside. It doesn’t hurt but it’s a strangely new sensation as your muscles spasm and clench around the hard cock splitting you open.

“So tight,” your eyes lock onto his ruined expression, taunt and twisted as he whines, finally letting his tip press up against your cervix where you’re left out of breath and panting. He bites his bottom lip, hard enough to nearly draw blood as he waits, because that’s what it said online and he’d be damned if he hurt you by being impatient.

It’s you who has to initiate movement, wrapping your arms around his neck as the burn inside you fades and the need for friction increases, your hips moving and cunt clamping down. It drags another hissed moan from his lips, his hips automatically bucking a little and making your voice mimic his.

“Yeah? Feel good sunshine?” He’s breathless, already close to an orgasm but refusing to give in before you do. You nod, clinging to him and the feeling of being so full and pressed against his hard body as he begins to rock into you.

“You feel so good, made for me aren’t you baby? Made for my cock.” You aren’t ready for his words as you shiver, his thrusts slow but gaining in power as you relax and allow him in deeper. “You sound like it feels good, should I go faster?” He’s speeding up before you even nod, delirious and pussy drunk as he holds you close, arms around your back and head as he pants into your ear, licking the shell and moaning for you as you mewl and lock your legs around his waist.

You feel the coil winding up in a new way, less noticeable at first but building and drawing your attention as you begin really crying out. His cock slamming into you, hitting inside just right that it leaves you scrambling for even a single thought as pleasure consumes you both. He’s lost in you more so, overcome with delight and pleasure as he ruts into you. His focus only on getting you to come so he can too, his energy mounting despite his strenuous efforts.

“M-Mirio~ m’gonna— again, oh please, I need—,” your voice is hoarse as you cry and moan for him, babbling adorably as you try and plead for him to give it you. To let you cum for him.

“Fuck, you need to cum? Go ahead sunshine, all over my cock, cum for me.” He’s smiling but it’s more of a flash of canines as he moves a hand between you, thumbing at your clit and giving you the final push over the edge as you do cum. “Inside me, cum inside,” your voice has him losing reason as he fucks you. Balls slapping at your ass as he pumps himself into you fast and hard now. Pussy gripping him as he moans, crying out into your throat as he finishes right behind you. Spilling his hot load deep into you, but his hips don’t still.

“Fuck fuck, you feel so good, so good sunshine, fuck, could die like this, so good,” he’s senseless, coming apart as he just keeps moving.

“M-Mirio—,” it’s too much.

His cock doesn’t soften. His hips working in short hard thrusts but they’re beginning to lengthen you realize. The pleasure is blinding but as it drags on, you panic, stuttering through your words as you try to grab his attention.

His eyes are half lidded, hair covering one up as he licks his lips and focuses down where you’re both joined. Mesmerized by how your little cunt takes his cock, how wet you are, how good you feel.

“S’too much!” You sink your nails into his forearms, but he’s just fucking you harder, moaning and losing himself as you feel another orgasm approaching. “Mirio please I can’t—oh, wait I— hah, please!” You feel light headed as he continues pounding and screwing you stupid, your body jerking a bit with the force of his thrusts as he grips you tight to keep you from getting away. You realize he’s mumbling under his breath, sweat dripping down his face and body as he works you both into overstimulation and another orgasm.

“Gonna fill you up, fuck, see you dripping my cum for days, fuck,” he’s unfocused as he sits up, pulling you almost into his lap as he grips your hips and angles them to better sink into you.

“m’coming—!” your vision goes dark for a moment as you’re wracked with another orgasm so close to the last, losing logic as he keeps going, moaning and whining as he grits his teeth and comes again soon after.

“Shit, I’m coming,” he nearly crushes you with his weight as he once more pulls you to his chest. This time he stills, and you feel his cock twitch every few seconds, his warm cum painting your walls as he kisses your neck and face. Your tired limp body in his arms too weak to really reciprocate much.

“Thank you baby, so good for me…” you’re ready for sleep to pull you under as Mirio showers you with affection, but your eyes snap open in panic as his deflated cock starts to harden again. “Fuck just need you one more time… one more…” you whine, hand pushing as his face but his hips are already moving and sliding his thick cock out of you before pushing in.

“Mirio—,”

“One more time, you can do one more for me right sunshine?” His soft eyes, sweet smile, so charming and disarming. You nod unconsciously, not understanding your tired mistake until he’s flipping you on your stomach and pulling your hips up, realization dawning as he slams back inside and leaves you reeling. “Fuck, thank you baby, so tight shit,” he’s gone.

You learned two things that night.

Mirio is a liar, and one more meant three more… and he gives incredible massages, which you found out in the morning after you woke up sore and angry.

#Mirio Togata #Mirio mha #Mirio bnha #Mirio Togata smut #Mirio smut #bnha Mirio smut #bnha #mha my hero academia #boku no hero academia #Mirio Togata x reader smut #fem! reader #Mirio x fem! reader #Mirio x fem! reader smut #18+ #mdni #request filled #Yan loves her mooties

[goingmerryfics]

Affection & PDA w/ Smoker, Corazon, & Robin

Content: Gender neutral reader as always. Lots of fluff here! 

Notes* I NEVER POSTED THIS??? I WROTE THIS IN THE BEGINNING WEEK OF MY BLOG??

Smoker

Smoker loves to be affectionate with you. He’s most comfortable when he’s able to touch you in one way or another, and he most definitely will keep you trapped in his arms for as long as he can get once you’re there

He’s not shy in telling people you’re his person, but he also isn’t very comfortable being too lovey in public

He’s got an image to maintain as a Marine soldier, and he’d rather not have you shadowing him on the job both for his own focus and for your safety

The exception is if you crossed paths while he’s on his patrol around town, of course. He’ll light up when he sees you and ask what you’re doing out, and after a quick conversation he’d be just fine kissing you good-bye and promising to see you later. Tashigi makes a comment at how his cheeks have a tint to them, and he’ll grumble something under his breath along the lines of ‘stop talking’

If you’re in public and he’s off the job, he’s got no problem holding your hand as you walk together, kissing your cheek or sitting close together to share a drink

All that to say moderate PDA is fine

Smoker’s favorite way to show affection is to lie on the couch with you with you on top, head on his chest while he plays with your hair or rubs your back- whatever you’re more comfortable with

Of course he also loves to kiss you anywhere and everywhere he can get. Cheeks, especially

He peppering you with kisses and watching you laugh and try to squirm away from him

He’ll get super embarrassed if you two get caught, though

Corazon

Cora is also someone who is very affectionate with his partner, so much so that they are usually covered in lipstick smudges

His favorite spots to kiss are your nose, lips and neck and they are usually stained with his signature colour

He has definitely taken you down with him a few times while trying to give you kisses

Neither of you is really sure how you two ended up toppling over while you weren’t even moving

He’s not shy to show you off to people, either. Unlike Smoker, he doesn’t care who knows about your relationship

But years of living with a certain someone’s attitude has made him wary

Cora pours his heart and soul into the people he loves, and he doesn’t like to share

He knows all too well the manipulation tactics his brother could impose on you to make you feel bad, or worse- to sway you into his arms instead

I fully believe Doffy would steal Cora’s partners. I haven’t seen Cora’s episodes yet so who knows how accurate this is but I’m sticking to it

Cora is extremely possessive over you. So being publicly affectionate with you only comforts him in knowing that everyone believes you’re his

His favorite thing to do is to pick you up, your legs wrapped around his torso, pressing kisses all over you

It doesn’t happen often with how many times he’s dropped you or himself, though

Corazon would love surprise kisses

When you’re alone, he’ll ramble on and on about how he feels about you, all sorts of sweet things

Robin

Robin is not shy about giving you affection, but she is classy with it

With her Devil Fruit powers, she can reach you anywhere to hold your hand or give you some sweet touches

Her preferred method of showing you love, in her motherly fashion, is to gently caress your cheek with the back of her hand

She’ll also keep an arm around your waist or shoulders, knowing how the feeling of being held is comforting to you

She’s comfortable giving you quick kisses and loving words in front of the crew, but in a public setting- especially when you’re all new to the area, she’ll go as far as holding your hand and that’s about it

The best time to give her affection is while you’re out on the sea

Lazy days in the sun, just sitting together while she reads, your head in her lap while she swipes her thumb over your cheek in soft, slow motions

It would be very easy to fall asleep there if it weren’t for the chaos of the rest of the crew

Robin will welcome affection anytime, too. No matter what she’s doing on the ship, as long as she’s in a good mood, if you sneak up behind her and wrap your arms around her or lean down to kiss her cheek in passing, she’ll always end up smiling to herself 

Robin isn’t used to being treated kindly- at least in a physical sense. It took her forever to learn to trust the crew to that point, and a little longer with you because of how intimate your relationship was. So having gotten to this point where you two are happily able to share these precious moments is very important to her

#one piece #harleywritesop #hwop #smoker x reader #smoker op #captain smoker #smoker one piece #devil child nico robin #op robin #nico robin #nico robin x reader #robin x reader #corazon rosinante #corazon x reader #donquixote corazon #corazon one piece #rosinante x reader #rosinante corazon #one piece rosinante #donquixote rosinante

[merakiui]

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•♡♡•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Hello!

•I'd love to have a bouquet of flowers from the Miscellaneous Menu, custard donuts from the Midnight Menu for my mighty Vils, and the Leech twins (separately please) and Fem Reader!•

♡Thank you~♡ ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•♡♡•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

yandere!vil schoenheit, jade leech, floyd leech x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, baby-trapping/forced pregnancy, intoxication for vil’s part, brainwashing for jade’s part, stockholm syndrome & brief mentions of violence for floyd’s part note - thank you for checking in, dearest guest! enjoy your order! [lunar love hotel]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ᴠɪʟ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴇɴʜᴇɪᴛ

The film screening for Vil’s new movie had been good—so good that you couldn’t deny the champagne that was opened and offered hours after midnight in celebration of a year’s worth of hard work. Vil makes it a rule to only drink in moderation during a celebration, as too much of anything, whether alcoholic or not, can ruin the beautiful physique he has worked so hard to cultivate over years of dedicated efforts. His glass isn’t even half-empty; if anything, he’s taking the smallest of sips while he watches you chat with the production members across the room. 

You’ve been his makeup artist for three years now. By his standards, that’s plenty of time to have formed a worthwhile bond. Vil often wondered if you see in him the same beauty everyone sees: untouchable, refined, and worthy of envy and admiration alike. Though the nature of your job has you meeting all sorts of celebrities, you’ve remained humble over the course of your profession. Perhaps you see him as a regular person rather than the striking silhouette he casts. Maybe his fame and fortune mean nothing to you because you’re your own version of successful.

Sometimes Vil dislikes the fame that weighs heavy on his shoulders like a velvet cape soaked through with rainfall. He tries not to let his status dictate his life, but he can’t deny that it largely influences how he chooses to act. If he were to help you out of this room, he’s certain the paparazzi would never let him live it down. They’d think the two of you were a couple. They’d think he was sleeping around with his makeup artist. All manner of tales will be spun for the tabloids. Not that such meaningless stories will put his career in the ground. He stands on a pedestal so high that no amount of filthy gossip could ever knock him off. 

And perhaps he ought to let them think those things, if only to be able to claim for a short time that you are his. 

No one questions it when he offers to accompany you back to the hotel (for safety reasons, of course). After all, he’s known to care immensely for his team. You hang off of him like a luxury handbag, your arm hooked around his while you stumble out of the car. Vil nods to his driver, who rolls off and out of sight without another word. You’re muttering drunken nonsense as the both of you ride the elevator up to your room, and Vil has to dig through your purse to find the keycard. 

Once the both of you are inside and he’s shrugged his trench coat, sunglasses, scarf, and hat off, you’re peering at him with an intensity that has him smiling. So perhaps you really do see more in him when you’re intoxicated. Had he known such valuable information sooner, he would have had you under him many months ago.

Time seems to slow and speed up all at once when the lustful spark catches and ignites, and you lean in to press your lips to his. It’s a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss and you smell terribly of liquor, but the inside of your mouth is warm and wet and tinged with faint, fizzy notes of strawberry champagne. Vil could liken you to this exact flavor: sweetly effervescent. It’s an addictive taste he’s only just had the pleasure of partaking in, having been forced to admire you from the sidelines, dutifully playing the role of the flawless star while your skillful hands helped him shine. 

Those same hands are making quick work of his clothes, hastily undressing him as he guides you towards the bedroom. It’s moderately sized; certainly nowhere near as luxurious as the suite he’s staying in, but it will do. You fall back onto the plush mattress with a tiny gasp, and you watch through unfocused eyes as he unbuckles his belt, holding your smoldering gaze the entire time. 

“I’ve often pictured this very moment,” he tells you, smiling to himself like the admission is a vile secret. And perhaps it is, for he’s thought of having you in the filthiest of ways. “To think you were just within my reach and yet always so...untouchable.”

Graceful fingers aid in freeing you from your sparkling dress, framing your body in all the right ways. It’s an expensive thing, as is all of the finery he’s just shucked, and he drapes it over the nearby chair before falling into your embrace, his lips connecting with yours. And for the first time in forever, Vil feels as though he’s just plucked a rare star from the sky, cradling it in his capable palms as if it’s particularly fragile. 

“I love you...” you whisper, and his heart soars and sinks in one beat, for the name you utter is not his. 

He stares at you, gripping your hips so tightly his manicured fingernails leave crescents in your pretty skin. His emotionless expression may have startled you if you were sober, but instead you just tug him into another kiss. Vil wonders if he should carve his name into your skin—if he should ruin it so that no one but he could possibly see beauty in you. But then he catches sight of his reflection in the wide mirror, and it occurs to him that he ought to show you who he really is.

Your back is pressed against his chest, and you watch your reflection through blurry eyes. Vil’s fingers are pumping in and out of your pussy, slick with your fluids, and you’re coming undone against him, grabbing at his wrist to brace yourself. His other hand grips your chin, forcing you to watch as the mirror shows you everything he’s doing to you, every touch and kiss. Every bite and lick. You cum with a shaky whine, your head lolling against his shoulder, and Vil tuts at you.

“Surely you’re not already tired,” he whispers, warm breath tickling your ear. “Keep your eyes fixed on the mirror, darling. It can’t possibly shape me as that fool you seem so intent on loving.”

You mumble something, but it’s lost on him when he slides his fingers out and lifts you up, lowering you onto his cock inch by inch. You suck in a breath, crying out in slurred delight, and Vil exhales a low, blissful breath as he slots himself completely inside. As expected, it’s a perfect, snug fit. Perhaps you were molded to be his from the very moment you were brought into this world. Perhaps this night has been strung up in the stars for years and now it’s finally happening. Vil knows it’s not wise to hope for miracles, but for once he can appreciate fate because he’s worked hard enough to earn this. 

The mirror reflects a salacious portrait, with you speared on Vil’s cock. His hand presses against your belly, petting it fondly. You’re moving your hips without much rhythm, lazily working yourself towards orgasm, and he’s content to let you do all of the work while his other hand traces slow circles against your clit.

Vil rests his chin on your shoulder, and it occurs to him that you might not remember this precious moment. The flame of lust will have been extinguished come morning and he will wake from this wondrous dream, empty and unloved. 

Perhaps it’s for the best that you think he’s someone else, for the gift he will impart takes nine months to come to fruition, and by then there will be no one else in your life. No one else but Vil. Only Vil. 

Vil wraps his arms around you, caging you against him, and thrusts up deeply, hitting that special, spongy spot inside you that has your entire body shuddering through another orgasm. His hand grasps your chin, moving your face towards his for a kiss of tongue and teeth. He swallows your moans, groaning against your lips when he cums, and your pussy tightens around him so deliciously. 

“You might not think so right now,” he whispers into your mouth, tracing patterns along your waist, “but you will be a wonderful mother to our child.”

The mirror will reflect this promise as the months pass, unable to tell a single lie. Sworn to truth, but never to secrecy. 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ᴊᴀᴅᴇ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

In the months leading up to your wedding day, Jade has done well to present the concept of family in a domestic light. He chooses to watch films and TV shows that depict happy families with smiling children. He’s gathered books on parenting and child care, leafing through them when he knows you’re watching. He’s compiled safe, healthy recipes for baby formulas and meals for pregnant mothers, leaving them out on the kitchen table along with magazines marked with circles and symbols around all the necessities. “An honest mistake,” he called his meticulous carelessness when you questioned it. He’s just curious about how land dwellers raise their children. In the sea, it’s much different. You can’t blame him because Jade Leech is, by the very definition of the word, a creature consumed by curiosity. 

He had broached the subject over dinner while fully knowing where you stood. Yet, when he had casually mentioned how his coworkers boast wallet photos of their bright, beautiful children or how he’s met expecting mothers while grocery shopping and they’ve voiced their excitement to him, you find yourself hesitating. For the longest time you were against children. The concept of raising a human being felt daunting and frightening—like a particularly impossible mountain you just couldn’t dream of scaling—and Jade had respected that. But hearing those stories and seeing films with parents holding their newborns, cradling them as if they’re the entire world, and occasionally stealing quick glances through the catalogues Jade’s kept has you considering the idea. 

Considering. Not agreeing. It lurks in a shadowed corner of your mind. You never give it much thought unless Jade’s prompted it with his inquisitive nature, or he makes a show of slipping a condom on each time the two of you fuck, making precisely sure you’re observing him so that you know he’s wearing protection—so you’re reminded that, if you really wanted it, he could do away with the condom and give you a child. Sometimes the primal part of you considers asking for it raw, but the sensible part of you is grateful for his conscientiousness.

You can only stay strong for so long, though.

Like your husband, your wedding is perfectly organized. Your families get along well, with the Leeches having taken transformation potions to attend the ceremony. Floyd is all over you during the reception, twirling you on the dance floor while Jade engages in friendly chatter with his and your parents. You overhear them mention pregnancy; you know it’s not a random conversation topic. You know Jade has smoothly eased them into that discussion. Floyd’s pace is dizzying; he’s nearly yanking you into an arrhythmic waltz and you struggle to keep up with both him and the conversation you’re eavesdropping on. It might be the wine and the congratulatory encouragements from family and friends that twist your senses, but in that moment you think a child wouldn’t be a terrible addition to your life. 

The ski village is as lively as it is quaint. Winter honeymoons are unheard of in the Coral Sea. The ice makes it difficult to navigate frigid waters, and so for that reason many merfolk prefer warmer climates for their romantic trysts. “Spring and summer are the best seasons for mating,” Jade conveniently adds, as if that line was absolutely necessary. His hand splays across your stomach while he sits beside you in the café, a pleasant smile brightening his handsome features. You peer at the wedding band on his finger. The two of you are bound for life, connected like stars in the sky. 

We could connect in other ways, a tiny voice mutters in the back of your mind.

The cabin you’re staying at is situated within a forest of pines blanketed by heavy snowfall. There’s something intimate about spending your honeymoon in isolation, where it’s just you and Jade tucked away in a sliver of the world. Perhaps you’re living in a dream, for when you shut your phone off after browsing articles written by mothers-to-be to welcome Jade into bed you finally ask a question that’s been sitting on the tip of your tongue for months now.

“Can we...” You avert your eyes, suddenly embarrassed. “Can we make a baby?”

Jade’s hand interlaces with yours. His fingers curl under your chin, guiding you to his mismatched eyes. This dream must be particularly vivid because the tender fondness he wears surely isn’t a mask for victory. Right?

“Of course we can,” he whispers, lithe fingers curling around the hem of your sweater. “We can make as many as you’d like.”

Jade adores all positions, but this time he has you folded into missionary while he takes an annoyingly lengthy time prepping you, his head buried between your thighs while his slender fingers tease your clit with fleeting touches. He’s making a show of his win; you’re sure of it. And this time, rather than a condom, you watch him squirt lube into his hand to run up the thick length of his cock. He smirks as he looms over you, pressing a kiss to your lips as he slides in. You lace your arms around his neck and hook your legs around his waist to feel him deeper, all the while moaning so sweetly.

“How precious,” he coos, aiming a particularly rough thrust at your cervix. You throw your head back, digging your nails into his back. “You fall apart so easily, my dear.”

Even if baby fever hadn’t overwhelmed you, the sewing needles Jade’s packed are sharp enough to poke through the complimentary condoms. You’re already shackled to him by way of wedding vows; a child is just the final piece in Jade’s perfect puzzle.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ꜰʟᴏʏᴅ ʟᴇᴇᴄʜ

Floyd is in a foul mood. You can tell because every inch of him is all taut, rippled muscle, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder how it hasn’t shattered yet. His hands curl around the steering wheel as if it’s a person's neck, knuckles blanching with the sheer pressure of his grip. You sit beside him in the passenger seat, hands folded neatly in your lap, while he speeds down the dark, desolate road, illuminated only by the new headlights on his sports car. He had to get them fixed after a certain...accident, which Jade had been so kind to fund (otherwise Floyd would have let them stay broken). 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, running your thumb over the top of your hand.

“S’not Shrimpy’s fault.”

And you know it’s not. He’d brought you out of the house to attend an underground gathering after his father had pestered him to go because, according to Floyd, he had to “put himself in the lamprey pit” if he was to smoothly take his father’s place as head of the family business in the coming years. The consolation had been that you would be coming along for the ride, which meant Floyd would be in a considerably brighter disposition with you at his side. But then some filthy remarks had been thrown your way a few hours in and it had set Floyd off, who nearly tore through the offender in his wrathful fury. 

“Do your hands hurt? I’ll bandage them when we get home.”

Floyd doesn’t answer; his eyes remain glued to the lonesome street ahead. You’re not sure how much farther he drives before he’s pulling over, slamming his foot upon the brake so that the car comes screeching to a halt. The forest closes in on his side, branches nearly touching the hood of the car with how close he’s aligned it in the space between road and forest. You stare at him, well-accustomed to his mercurial temperament, while he puts the car in park.

Floyd turns to you, his features soft in the moonlight. “Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

You’re past the point of fright. How can you possibly shrink away from him when he’s only ever been good to you in the months following your kidnapping? Perhaps you’ve learned to live with him, razored edges and all, or perhaps you’re just happy to know that he’d never turn his frustrations on you. 

“I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared you’d hurt yourself.”

“Those small fry bastards couldn’t hurt me even if they wanted to.” His face contorts into a scowl. “Really pissed me off, though, sayin’ those gross things about my shrimpy...”

“I... I can make it up to you...to make you feel better.”

I’ll cook him his favorite, you think, hoping there are enough ingredients at home.

Floyd stares at you, half of his face shadowed by the trees that tower over the windshield. And then a wide, toothy grin spreads on his lips.

“Aah? Shrimpy’s gonna make me feel better?”

He tilts his head curiously, leaning in until you’re practically breathing him in. You realize now that his idea of “feeling better” differs greatly from yours, but you go along with it anyway, too shaken from the past hour to truly think of much other than how close to death you’d come—how close you’d seen Floyd get to that edge, baring his teeth out of the animalistic instinct to protect.

He’s fond of you; that much is very obvious. Perhaps he’s owed a reward for his undying devotion.

The passenger seat is slid as far back as it can possibly go, with Floyd leaning into the cushiony leather to admire how you sit awkwardly in his lap, his cock nestled deep inside slick, gummy walls. You exhale a series of shaky breaths as you adjust to his size, all while he watches with rapt adoration, his hands cradling your breasts. He’s draped his suit jacket over your bare shoulders—he said something about making you smell more like him—and slid the flowing, ruffled fabric of your mermaid dress to the side to rip your panties from your skin. 

Despite how long you’ve been in his care, this is the second time he’s fucked you. The first was against the counter in the kitchen, when you’d been preparing a lazy breakfast in one of his oversized shirts, and he’d slid his leaking cock between your thighs, caging you in against the counter with strong, sturdy arms. If you wanted to be technical about it, this is the first time he’s inside you—truly fucking you, connecting as one—but you doubt the distinction matters much.

“Been thinkin’ lately,” Floyd mumbles absentmindedly as he toys with your puffy nipples, pinching and pulling just to watch your lip quiver with barely subdued whines. You roll your hips experimentally, gasping through shuddered breaths. He’s big, filling you entirely, but despite his size he handles you so gently. “Shrimpy’d look awfully cute with lotsa baby shrimpys.”

Your lust-lidded eyes meet his. “A...” You swallow your moans and attempt to sound composed despite his teasing thrusts, his hips meeting your ass halfway each time. Wet squelching fills the car, and the scent of sex mixed with Floyd’s sandalwood cologne blankets the cramped space that confines you. “A baby is a little...”

“It’d show all those bastards that you’re mine,” he says, grinding his thumb into your clit. You sigh blissfully, bracing yourself against his broad chest. He laughs, high and nasally, as if this topic is particularly silly and not at all life-changing, and adds in a casually delighted tone, “C’mon, Shrimpy. Lemme fill ya up nice and good. I wanna see how big you’ll get. You think I could give you three in one go?”

He laughs again, this time with more determination, and seizes your hips to guide you at his preferred pace: fast and sloppy. You collapse against him, digging your nails into his shoulders, and any protests you might have had are quickly snuffed with a series of sinful wails. Your rationality melts away when he thrusts up and hits a spongy spot within you. You curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck, and reach your climax with a pleasured sob. Floyd’s nearing his end, his groans filling your ears like the sweetest song, and he slams your hips down to keep you pinned on his cock when he empties his spend deep inside.

His lips press against the crinkle in your eye, tongue slipping out to gather your tears. “Let’s go two more rounds! One for each baby shrimpy, ‘kay?”

You don’t have the heart to refuse him. 

#yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere vil schoenheit #yandere vil schoenheit x reader #yandere vil #yandere vil x reader #yandere jade leech #yandere jade leech x reader #yandere jade #yandere jade x reader #yandere floyd leech #yandere floyd leech x reader #yandere floyd #yandere floyd x reader #n/sfw #tw: baby trapping #tw: forced pregnancy #lunar love hotel 2023

[viperwhispered]

Rest

Guess what? I've got more Jamil x reader for y'all. You can also find this on ao3. No warnings, just 866 words of kinda fluffy(?) caretaking stuff with gender-neutral reader.

At this point, you know Jamil’s schedule almost as well as he does. So, when you have the chance, you head to Scarabia’s kitchen, hoping to spend some time with Jamil while he and the other students prepare dinner. 

However, when you enter, it takes you but a moment to notice Jamil’s uncharacteristic fumbling and the tired look in his eyes. The way Jamil’s chopping the vegetables has you worried about him cutting himself with that knife he’s usually so adept with, and it seems it’s only force of habit that’s keeping him on track.

You frown, and when your eyes meet Jamil’s, you can already see him put his guard up.

So he knows what state he is in, huh? And still, here he is.

It seems Jamil is reading your thoughts, all of him telling you drop it before any words are even said.

At least he still lets you lean in and give a quick kiss to his cheek in greeting.

“Hello love. Do you still have a lot on your agenda for today?” you ask, keeping your tone low for at least some semblance of privacy in the busy kitchen.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” is the response you get.

Of course.

It takes a little more pestering before Jamil actually answers your question. Your lips purse. That list is far too long to your liking.

You take a moment to think, juggling your own plans and to-do list against the urgency of the things Jamil mentioned.

“Will Kalim be eating from that?” you ask, pointing at the food Jamil is preparing.

“Yes.”

“Alright, I won’t be touching that one, then. I’ve gotta do a few things but I’ll be back when you’re done here.”

“Don’t,” Jamil says with a glare, clearly aware of what you’re thinking.

Yet even his disapproving look doesn’t have the usual weight behind it.

“Yes. I will,” you say firmly, even as your heart curls inwards with another bout of concern.

Really, when did he get so tired?

And how did you not notice it earlier?

You leave the kitchen before Jamil can protest further, hurrying through the dorm corridors to find Kalim.

Soon you have an enthusiastic – and concerned – supporter for your plans. You have Kalim point out a few reliable Scarabia students to help with a few of the most urgent matters Jamil mentioned – cleaning up the common areas, delivering some paperwork to Crowley, preparing some dorm-wide notices – while you see to Kalim getting his school supplies in order for the following day. You even recruit a couple of third years to help Kalim with his homework.

You’ll see to the rest tomorrow – after all, you do also have a boyfriend to look after.

Your conversation over dinner can hardly be called anything else than an argument – despite Kalim’s best attempts at acting as a moderating force between you two. It is very tempting to ask Kalim to tell Jamil to take the rest of the day off – it’s not like Jamil would be willing to openly disobey a direct order. Still, you really don’t need to remind Jamil of his position on top of everything else that you’re already doing more or less against his wishes.

Eventually, however, Jamil’s had a square meal, the most urgent things on his to-do list are being taken care of, and you’ve managed to drag him to his bed.

“I really wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard,” you murmur, your arms wrapped tightly around Jamil. You’re telling yourself you really do just want to cuddle, to offer some respite to Jamil. Still, there might also be a part of you worried that if you were to let go, he’d just jump up and get back to working himself to the bone.

Yet, for all his protestations, just the fact that you’ve gotten Jamil to lay down with you speaks volumes of his current exhaustion.

“I can’t just leave my duties, albi. You know this.”

“Making yourself too indispensable, is what you’re doing,” you protest.

Oh, you know it’s not so simple. Not with his background, not with all the expectations and assumptions.

But sometimes you really wish it would be.

Jamil merely scoffs in response to your words.

Still, it is undeniable that he is slowly beginning to relax in your arms, slowly bringing his head closer to yours. His eyes are starting to flutter, too.

“I will still need to help Kalim with his homework, at the very least.”

You wonder who he is trying to convince more, you or himself.

“Amin and Khalil are helping him. They’re basically top of their classes, aren’t they? I’m sure they’ve got it.”

Still, Jamil frowns.

You sigh. He really is not letting go, is he?

“Do you want me to go supervise?” you ask.

And leave you, unsaid yet hanging there right after your words.

“Don’t,” Jamil eventually says, the word barely more than a breath.

It seems he has accepted his fate.

You softly caress Jamil’s hair, listening to his softening breathing.

And when you wake up, wholly unaware of having been lulled to sleep in the first place, it’s to the lightest of touches from Jamil’s fingers.

Tagging @diodellet @twstgo @crystallizsch @jamilvapologist @jamilsimpno69 as per request If you'd like to be tagged for any future works, let me know!

#twisted wonderland #jamil viper #twisted wonderland x reader #jamil viper x reader #woop it sure has been quite the burst of creative energy lately #especially since this has apparently been sitting in my drafts since last august #but now you have it #I certainly can’t promise to keep up with this rate of writing (in fact I can promise I won't) but hey let's enjoy it while it lasts #and yes I’m hopping on the “jamil using arabic terms of endearment” train #I’ve read so many fics doing that that at this point it feels more natural than english ngl #even if english would probably be more canonical #also is it a *good* way to go about it to just pretty much just force someone to rest like this? probably not #is it sometimes the only way to get stubborn people to stop for a bit? perhaps #and is it something I might do? #...possibly #also oh boy can you tell that I'm avoiding jamil's dialogue like the plague lately? #I really need to reread so much of his stuff to get a hang of his voice again #(also if you notice typos pls tell me because they always bug me) #(or other wonkiness because I'm not a native speaker and sometimes things just go silly) #anyways hope y'all enjoy!