#so much love is put into how hair is drawn in this gn

[jesncin]

I read "Frizzy" when it released and I was always itching to draw fanart for it! It's about Marlene, a Dominican girl learning to take care of her curly hair and love herself in spite of the odds! Written by @authorclaribelortega with gorgeous art by @rosebous <3

#illustration #graphic novel #booklr #fanart #kidlitart #my art #so much love is put into how hair is drawn in this gn #beautiful read i highly recommend it #so glad kids are growing up with books like this!

[lale-txt]

❉ confessing to you w/ Geto, Toji & Shiu

➸ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏: Gojo, Nanami & Higuruma

a/n: reader is gn! obviously i lied when i said that i won't write a part 2 for this, but here we are. the scenarios plagued my mind and i had to get them out. both Toji's and Geto's part turned out a little sad and angsty, but that's what you get with those tragic chars, i guess.

❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji doesn’t confess. Deep, deep down he fears that he might put a curse on you if he speaks what weighs on his heart. 

You gotta forgive him, he’s a burned child. 

He’s afraid that you’re gonna vanish once he says these words out loud; without a trace, making him wonder if you were merely a fever dream. But you’re here, next to him in the dark, the heat of your body seeping into his when you roll over in your sleep and cling to him. He has to keep you safe, it’s what his life revolves around.

Toji’s hands are surprisingly gentle when he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You wouldn’t think that the same hands were covered in blood only a few hours ago. Some days he wouldn’t stop scrubbing them until you wrapped yours around his, giving him that look that makes his heart flinch. There’s no fear in your eyes, only compassion and a calm adoration, enough to make the lump of unsaid words in his throat swell. Sometimes he wonders if he’s gonna suffocate on those one day; if you’ll be able to forgive him for loving you, for touching you with those bloodstained hands, for engraving himself into your being.

He hopes you know. You do, don’t you? You wouldn’t curl up besides him otherwise, tangled in sheets he’ll never stay too long because he fears his world will melt down to just the two of you. So he keeps his gun on the nightstand and one foot out of the door, but his eyes will always dart back to your sleeping figure. You mumble out his name in your sleep and Toji responds by pulling you closer to him, only for a moment, holding his breath when you stir awake for a heartbeat. 

Maybe he can love you in between.

In those split seconds when you’re not asleep but not awake either; neither dreaming nor conscious. Not in this life, not in the next one. But in another life, when the stars have aligned and lead you back into his arms. Maybe he can hold you without worrying about staining your soul, your heart; maybe then he can kiss you with the absence of fear. Until then he’ll bite his tongue till he draws blood, choking on the words he chose not to say.

You will forgive him, won’t you? 

❦ 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

In the dark and hazy mind of Geto, you’re the golden light that always guides him back to life. Even though fears he’ll dim you once he encases you, he can’t stay away from you for too long, your warmth way too addicting to him. You never push him away, instead you open your arms to embrace him. It’s as if you’re blinded by your own light, choosing not to see the sins he had committed because it would mean you’d have to stop loving him, and that would mean your whole world would simply fall apart; it’d mean Geto would fall apart.

Geto never asks for much. He did once and maybe that’s the heaviest burden he has to carry; that night when he showed up at your doorstep, asking you to leave everything behind and come with him. It was selfish, he knows that much. But how could you have denied him anything, when both his voice and heart were close to breaking, when he mumbled your name like an apology, his hands trembling till the moment you wrapped yours around them?

It’s too late now, and saying those words out loud now would feel like a binding vow, destroying you in the end. He can’t do that to you. Not to the person who saw the core of his soul and still chose to stay by his side, over all these years. Not budging, not complaining.

An unconditional love with eyes closed. A black hole where his heart is supposed to be, from dusk but never to dawn; while you’re burning brighter than a thousand suns. Maybe he has always been in your orbit, inevitably drawn to you.

When Geto trails kisses from your fingertips to your wrists, he can’t help but wonder when the day will come when he’ll slip through these fingers and plunge into darkness. He imagines your desperate cries and the scratch marks on his skin when you attempt to pull him back, back to the light, back to you. One day, it will be too late, he’s sure of that. His end won’t be a kind one. 

All he can hope for is your forgiveness when he places his bleeding heart in your open palms, and that you’ll swallow him whole like he did with the burden of never being able to openly telling you how deeply, madly he loved you.

❦ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐔

Whenever he pulls up in the driveway, Shiu can’t help but wonder if you’re gonna be there, waiting for him at his doorstep with that mischievous grin of yours. You’re just a neighbor who he occasionally shares a cigarette with, he keeps telling himself, knowing it’s a full blown lie at this point. 

You’re tugging at his heart strings, night for night. Sometimes the thought of you just lying a few meters away from him, on the other side of a wall, drives him insane. You should be here, in his bed, in his arms. His sheets should smell like you in the morning, not like this creeping loneliness. Yet he never invites you inside and you never dare him to, like a stray cat tiptoeing at the edge of an open door, hoping for sweet treats and head scratches. It’s a game you’re both playing.

“My sweet,” he mumbles in that raspy voice you’ve learned to love so much when he spots you sitting at your familiar spot. Without hesitation he takes off his suit jacket and puts it around your shoulders. He never asks how long you’ve been sitting and waiting there for him, but he can easily tell from your cold fingertips when you hand him the lighter. Just a neighbor.

Inviting you in would mean something more than just opening the door. Within his profession, you don’t do love. There’s simply no room for it. Affection is exchanged through bundled yen notes and comes with fake laughter and lots of regret and headache in the morning. It’s just how things go. It’s the life Shiu chose for himself.

So why did his heart yearn so much for you? He should break this up before it even gets started. But he cannot, not when you inch closer while you talk, until your knees and your shoulders are touching, and the smoke from your shared cigarette is blown from lips to lips, as if you’re both testing just how close you can get before the resilience crumbles.

Maybe a kiss won’t hurt. Shiu knows that the lies he tells himself are piling up at this point. Of course it will hurt. A simple kiss won’t satisfy him, he’ll always find himself craving for more of you. A kiss first, then waking up by your side while you’re wearing his shirt that hugs your figure so nicely and next thing he’ll catch himself staring at the displays of the jewelry store, thinking which ring he should get you.

No, he can’t do that. He shouldn’t. And yet still, he cups your face so gently, lifting your chin up and catching your gaze. So let it hurt, he thinks to himself, before leaning in to kiss you, softly and deeply.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #shiu x reader #toji fushiguro #shiu kong #geto suguru #toji fushiguro x reader #shiu kong x reader #suguru geto x reader #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader

[bruisedboys]

🍓 — send in a character + a dialogue prompt for a blurb!

“you can kiss me, you know” with lil baby eddie munson <33

summary: eddie kisses shy!you when he gets back from band practice

shy!gn!reader 0.7k words

Eddie comes home from band practice to find you fast asleep on his bed. Your hair is splayed out across his pillows, your shirt rides up your back, exposing a sliver of skin, and your arm dangles over the edge of the bed.

Eddie feels, for a moment, like all the breath has been knocked out of his chest. There you are, so pretty, so lovely, fast asleep on his bed in his room. He stands in the doorway and takes a few seconds to catch his breath.

When his heart’s stopped racing he moves to put his stuff down, hanging his guitar on the wall next to his mirror and shrugging out of his jacket, throwing it over his desk chair. He’s quiet with his movements but you stir anyway. Eddie freezes, but it’s too late, you’re already awake.

You lift your head off the pillows and blink blearily until your eyes land on Eddie.

“Eddie,” you say, voice raspy but no less sweet than usual.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, rushed. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Go back to sleep, if you want to.”

You shake your head and it’s maybe the cutest thing Eddie’s ever seen. Your hair is all rumpled and you’ve got a sleepy pout on your lips.

“No. It’s okay, I hadn’t meant to fall asleep, anyway.” You sit up all the way and tuck your hair behind your ears, cross your legs underneath yourself and look at Eddie expectantly. “How was band?”

Eddie has to take a moment to compose himself, to force his breaths to stop coming in so fast. Something about you, all lovely and homey and adorable sitting in his bed, is really messing with his heart. In a good way.

“It was good,” he says, his voice comes out sounding strained. He clears his throat and tries again. “It was good, thanks for asking, lovely. What did you do while I was gone?”

You shrug. “Read my book. Fell asleep. It was boring without you.”

Eddie thinks his heart does a triple backflip. Butterflies swarm in his stomach at your words and your shy smile.

“Is that so?” He asks, trying to sound as cool and collected as he can when he’s the total opposite.

It works. You go all shy, dipping your head to stare at your knees. It’s adorable. Eddie can’t take it any longer, he strides across the room and closes the gap between you, his knees pressing into the edge of the bed.

He gets a hand under your chin and encourages your head up, lifting until you’re looking at him, your jaw cupped in his hand. You’re somehow even prettier up close. Eddie grins.

“I missed you,” he says, because he did, and if he doesn’t tell you he might burst.

You positively beam. Your cheeks go all plump and flushed and your eyes crinkle at the corners. Eddie thinks his heart misses a few crucial beats.

“I missed you too,” you say softly.

Eddie’s eyes are drawn to your lips. It was inevitable. Your mouth is moving around your words, so why shouldn’t he look? He thinks you’ve caught him looking because you flush all over again.

“Eddie,” you say, a little chiding, a lot fond. You look like you’re trying very hard not to smile. “You can kiss me, you know.”

Eddie doesn’t need to be told twice. He bends at the waist to kiss you, his knees pressing into the bed and his free hand moving to brace himself on the mattress next to your hip. His mouth meets yours in a chaste kiss, one that has his heart pounding, though he’s not sure it’s going quite as fast as yours. His hand slips to your neck and his thumb brushes your pulse point. It’s racing.

He pulls back to spare both your hearts and you’re smiling when he does. Eddie moves back swiftly, lest he start kissing you until you can’t breathe. He can’t have that.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, because he’s feeling too much for you and it’s overwhelming. A distraction is very necessary. “We can go to McDonald’s, maybe?“

You smile and nod. “Okay,” you say, then, mischievously, “I’m paying.”

Eddie fakes a glare at you. You’re always offering to pay. He thought it was supposed to be the boyfriend’s job to pay for things. Then again, he’s not exactly in the habit of saying no to you. His glare turns into a fond smile very quickly.

“Whatever you want, angel.”

.

#★ mal writes! #𖤐 2k celebration! #𖦹 sav! #ღ eds #eddie munson #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson scenario #✉️

[trappolia]

BEAUTIFUL BOY (OH, WHAT ENVY) ── vil schoenheit + gn!reader, 588

"beautiful boy."

praise whispered by millions across the lands who have bore witness to his likeness in fashion magazines, movies, plays, commercials ─ it all echoed in your mind like a mantra; a religion to bring you down to your knees, to surrender all material possessions and then some, maybe a limb or an eye or a heart.

such weakness was easy when it came to vil schoenheit; as cruel as he may be, giving you that coy smile upholding such arrogance, befitting of some beloved prince.

"tell me something i don't know," he mused, dragging his fingers through the nonexistent knots in his hair. fair-haired prince, dipped in lavender and ambrosia.

you could, maybe. tell him something he doesn't know, that is. you, at the very least, knew vil in a manner that bordered on intimacy. the younger students called him cold and sharp, like the bitter chill of a mid-winter afternoon, but you could say with suspicious certainty that he was cold in a literal sense, the prim digits of his fingers freezing enough to send shivers down your spine when he tucked a wayward strand back behind your ear. and there was also those things you classified as "other"; such things that even the hunter's eye could not surmise. blissful sighs against your collarbone, sweet lips against the apples of your cheeks, the flush of his cheeks, ears and chest (not from the cold).

in those moments, you could almost think you loved him more than you envied him.

almost.

in retrospect, you were indeed in love with him. or some odd, twisted semblance of the world; warped by comments on social media, hollered jeers of the paparazzi and whispers immortalised in the ink of magazines and the digital world of news articles and gossip blogs. it was easy to love vil as a fan, as an admirer; not so much when you were alike in dignity and pride, held on the same pedestal by the same bloodthirsty others that sought your blood, sweat and tears. for someone of your standings, it was all the more difficult to see each other eye to eye, to perhaps witness something in that unfiltered, unbidden gaze of the other and have everything collapse around you.

and yet─

"i think i do love you," you whispered, arms wrapped around his slim torso, he was laid out beneath you, reminiscent of a renaissance painting or an old photoshoot he'd done months ago, and it was perhaps a trick of your eye when you caught his ribs flutter against pale skin, like a jump of a pulse, a butterfly's wings against the crumpled white linen.

vil dared to smile, and instead of his ribs (cage to his heart, wretched thing that was) you were drawn to the shine of his hair in the lamplight, that twinkle in his eye. "you think i don't know that?"

"do you?" you exhaled, holding him like a lover would. or should?

"hm," vil's sharp, prim fingers (cold, cold, cold) grasped your jaw and tilted his mouth upwards to yours, velvet lips pushing against your chapped ones, and you belatedly thought that this was how he did it, how he put you under his spell and made you forget your envy, your bitter jealousy, in favour of whatever you called this ─ and then there was a quick brush of tongue, and you were bleeding to death in his arms, the world collapsing around you.

oh.

you'd forgotten that this was how people fall in love.

© trappolia 2024

#vil schoenheit #twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #vil schoenheit fluff #vil schoenheit angst #vil schoenheit imagines #vil schoenheit drabbles #vil schoenheit scenarios #vil schoenheit oneshots #vil schoenheit fics #vil schoenheit headcanons #twisted wonderland fluff #twisted wonderland angst #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland drabbles #twisted wonderland oneshots #twisted wonderland fics #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst fluff #twst angst #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twst drabbles #twst oneshots #twst fics #twst headcanons

[mclarenviolet]

All Things End

Astarion x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, blood and trauma, BG3 spoilers

WC: 500+

A/N: Big Act 3 spoilers in this one for those that haven't finished Astarion's questline!! The Hozier theme continues, titled after All Things End (anyone else been binge listening to Unreal Unearth the last two weeks?🥺)

The torches of Cazador's dungeon cast an eerie glow upon the blood-slicked floor, the distinct, coppery scent lingering in the air, a reminder of the fierce battle that had just taken place. Astarion stands over Cazador's corpse, chest heaving and body aching from the fight, mind whirring as he struggles to comprehend that his former master is truly gone. But his eyes are not fixed on the aftermath of the battle, they're fixed on you.

You lay on the ground, your breathing shallow and your features pale. Astarion feels numb as he rushes to your side, his fingers trembling as he reaches out to touch your cheek, relief flooding his senses as he feels your warmth. "By the gods, you can't leave me like this." his voice laced with an unfamiliar desperation.

He'd always been drawn to you, captivated by your beauty, your spirit, the way you always faced danger head-on. But now, as he watches you so close to slipping away, he realises just how deep his feelings run. The fear of losing you almost paralyses him, igniting a fire within him that he had long denied.

Gently cradling your head in his lap, he brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering as he traces the curve of your cheek. "I've been a fool," his voice cracking with emotion. "A complete fool to deny what's been in front of me all along."

The torchlight reveals vulnerability in his crimson eyes. He takes a deep breath, his chest tightening as he lets his guard down. "I care for you more than I thought possible," he confesses. "Your strength, your courage, your unwavering belief that I am more than just some wretched spawn.. you've bewitched me in a way I never expected."

He closes his eyes for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. "I've spent so long hiding behind my own darkness, using it as an excuse to push others away," he continues, his voice growing stronger. "But you, you've shown me that there's more to life than the shadows. You've given me a reason to fight, a reason to believe I can be so much more than just Cazador's slave."

Astarion leans down, his lips hovering over your forehead, his breath mingling with the cool dungeon air. "I don't want to waste any more time pretending," he whispers, his voice a tender caress. "I love you darling, as much as my undead heart could possibly love someone."

The weight of his confession lifts from his shoulders, replaced by a sense of liberation. The feeling of your limp body in his arms reminds him just how truly fleeting life can be, a feeling that hasn't troubled him for over 200 years. He isn't willing to let his chance at happiness slip through his fingers any longer.

A faint smile tugs at the corners of your lips, as if your unconscious self can sense his words. Astarion presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of purpose. "I'll protect you, no matter what," he vows softly, his voice a promise that echoes through the night as he cradles you closer, cherishing the sound of your gentle heartbeat.

A/N: Okay so the original plan was to kill off the reader but I literally couldn't bear to put Astarion through any more pain 🥺 Any feedback appreciated as usual, thank you for reading 💕

#astarion x reader #astarion x gn!reader #astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 spoilers

[hobie-enthusiast]

LITTLE CREATIONS !

— ‘Omgg if you're down and it spikes your creativity!! Could I request a Hobie little writing with a gn!reader who likes doodling on stick papers and sticking them on Hobie's guitar when he isn't looking? And one day he catches them red-handed? Just plain fluff tbh <33’

— hobie brown x gn!reader

— lots of fluff, just cute relationship stuff, some cutesy hc’s at the end too

— hobie knew where the mysterious stickers were coming from, but he just never wanted to stop it

— this is adorable oh my god. im such a sucker for cutesy relationship stuff. the creativity just flowed for this so well (directly reuploaded from my old acc @/hobieenthusiast)

Hobie was very attentive to the things he loved.

He was possessive over those things. You were a perfect example. Now that he has you, he never wants to let you go. His friends are another example. The Spider-people he’s grown to enjoy were something he would never trade.

His guitar was yet one more example of Hobie’s possessive nature.

He never truly allowed anyone to touch it. His instrument was what he used to make art. He’s had it since he was a young teen, the paint was chipping and many stickers he’s created or been gifted littered the body.

So he obviously noticed when new stickers started showing up.

The first creation he noticed was a small night sky, with star constellations being the focus. The constellations were Pleiades and Taurus, thought Hobie couldn’t name them off the top of his head. It was charmingly drawn, and stuck right underneath the strings.

He had his suspicions of you drawing it the first time he noticed it. He knew you liked to doodle in a small notebook, so you were his first thought.

The next one after that was a spiked butterfly. The butterfly had some out-of-the-lines green colouring, with spikes coming from the wings. It was a really nice drawing that Hobie appreciated, and was yet another sign it was drawn by you.

After that, he found some stickers of his favourite band logos, little star sketches, his logo as spider-man, and so many more. All those building up and covering the original colour and decal of the guitar.

Hobie didn’t mind the drawings. Actually, it was quite the opposite. He looked forward to seeing what you were gonna create next.

Whenever he’s over at your place, he’ll purposefully leave the room for a little to give you time to stick them. He notices your silly grin when he comes back, at his cluelessness when he takes his guitar home.

Little did you know.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Hobie sat on your bed, strumming mindlessly on his guitar. You sat over at your desk as you sketched and doodled on some stick paper. Music played in the background softly, a mixture of your faves and Hobie’s as well.

Hobie sighs, placing his guitar at the end of the bed. “‘m gonna go grab a drink.”

You nod as he passes, ruffling your hair as he leaves the room. You glance over to see if he left before smiling softly, standing and walking to his guitar.

Carefully, you peel your doodles from the sticker sheet, finding open spaces to place them on. These new ones were of his cross logo on the back of his Spider-man jacket, as well as a small spider hanging on a web. They were coloured with blue and red splotches in the background.

You put the first one on, admiring how it fits so well with the others. Like a puzzle piece. You reach for the second one, ready to stick it on, when..

“Well well. Seems ’ve caught the culprit.”

You turn around, sticker still in hand as you laugh nervously. “And here I thought I had more time.”

Hobie gives his signature smirk as he walks to you, taking the sticker from your hand. He observes it, noticing the beautiful red and blue splotches behind the spider.

“Sorry if you haven’t liked ‘em.” You say as he stands there, still observing. “You never really said much about them so I assumed you didn’t mind and that it was okay but if it’s not I can always stop and-”

Hobie chuckles, stopping you. “[Name]. Never said I didn’t like ‘em, aye? Actually quite like ‘em.”

“Really?”

Hobie nods as he places the sticker on his guitar, smoothing it out. It blends well with the others, bringing yet more charm to the cluster and disorganized mess. Something Hobie absolutely enjoys.

“Why don’t you tell me about ‘em?” He asks while sitting back on the bed. “Been curious ‘bout the constellations for ‘while now.”

“The constellations..” You start, tracing the design on his guitar. “They were in the air March 18th and April 24th. Pleiades and Taurus.”

Hobie’s eyes widen for a moment. “Well now that’s..”

“Our first date.” You finish with a soft smile. You glance up at him. “And the day we became official. Or the day you decided you like some labels.”

Hobie rolls his eyes. “An’ that’s a secret ‘tween you and me.”

You continue to tell him about the different doodles you drew. You explained the thought process behind them all, going into the colour schemes and why you chose those specifically.

The entire time Hobie couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He thought you were mesmerizing, the way you talked about something so passionately.

“…and with the letters I tried capturing how rebellious it’s supposed to look, kind of like your jacket.” You finish, pointing the last one out.

Hobie nods, hand taking yours. “They’re all well done. Ya gotta keep makin’ ‘em.”

You smile and nod excitedly, already thinking of the next designs you have for Hobie’s guitar.

Maybe Hobie’s earlier rule about never letting anyone touch his guitar had its exceptions. After all, rules were always meant to be broken in his eyes.

— after he confirms that it’s you putting the stickers on, he insists on watching you draw them

— you’ll sit on his lap and aimlessly doodle in your stick paper notebook as you lean back against his chest

— you ask for his opinion, but he always assures you they look perfect

— “that one ‘s well drawn, sweetheart”

— “you’re so talented, darlin’”

— “can’t wait for everyone to see ‘em”

— he’s practically your biggest supporter

— also don’t be surprised if one day he gets one of the doodles you stuck on his guitar tattooed on him

— what can he say? he’s obsessed with anything you give him

— he will also let everyone know who the amazing artist behind his stickers are

— “yeah? my amazin’ partner drew ‘em. they’re one of a kind”

— hobie will always anticipate new stickers from you, even after his guitar is filled

— please just start stacking them after that

— hobie’s completely obsessed with you and any reminder of you on his weapon of art is something to die for in his eyes

#NEW ARTICLE || OUT NOW !! #hobie brown x reader #hobie spiderverse #hobie x reader #hobie brown #spider man: across the spider verse #atsv #atsv x reader #atsv hobie

[flaneurpastel]

give him a blank paper and a pen, say nothing and let him surprise you

simon 'ghost' riley x gn!reader

a/n : fluff, i don't think there is anything else to warn y'all about, enjoy :)

words count : 850

after putting it all on his lap, you finally sat down beside him on the sofa, where his arm instinctively came to rest around your shoulders.

simon said nothing, his weary but curious gaze doing the work instead of his words.

"what?"

his voice doesn’t let you indifferent at its low, gravelly tone. you restrain yourself from jumping to his mouth and covering his face with kisses, on his cheeks, his nose, his lips, everywhere. finally, with a neutral face, you turned to face the tv where a rugby match was on.

simon arched his eyebrows. what was that again? he picked up the paper you had put on him, checking to see if there was a clue to the whole enigma you had decided to impose on him tonight.

a piece of white paper and a pencil.

he gave you a confused look before starting to think. he needed to recap it all. he had you by his side on the couch, even though you particularly hate rugby games, they take too long and you never understand the rules despite simon's many attempts to explain them to you. so… you expected something from him before you left. good. had he done something wrong ? the dishwasher had been emptied, though, and he also thought of throwing out the trash before coming to sit on the couch

you dared to glance at simon to see if he had decided to do something. his decomposed and lost face almost made you give up this prank, when you realized that the big ghost was caught off guard by this little joke. you bit your lip, no, you wanted to see how it would go.

finally, it's after 10 minutes that you got up, a pressing need to go to the bathroom. your passage seems to have been long, because when you came back, simon had resumed his usual posture, legs resting on the coffee table, and his right arm resting on the top of the sofa, where your place beside him was waiting for you. and more importantly, what you had handed him half an hour ago was lying on the table, the paper folded in half so that you could not see directly what he had done with it inside.

"I wonder where you get all these ideas from, y/n, I doubt if I'll ever be able to understand you." he said, letting out a small laugh at the end.

"hmm, considering the long wait I expect to see a poem declaring all your love for me in Shakespearean language," you say as you come to snuggle up to him. you take the paper at the same time

"I think I can compete with Picasso more".

a confused smile appeared on your pretty face, and it was simon's turn to restrain himself from covering it with kisses that would leave marks.

picasso?? you thought.

while simon let himself be refocused on his game, you finally opened the paper.

a huge laugh echoed through your living room.

"i hope this one means i'm good at drawing." he says unconsciously caressing your hair, staring at the TV.

your smile was so big you could feel your cheeks hurting.

on the paper were drawn two stick figures holding hands, easily recognizable. one much taller than the other with a simple t-shirt and quickly made pants, and another stick figure in a much more detailed outfit than the other person, you noticed. one has a line as a mouth, while the other has a nice 'C' on the side as a beaming smile.

he had clearly spent all his energy, time, and stick figure drawing skills on you.

little hearts that looked more like circles were flying all around you two.

the very caricatures of you and simon. 

you clearly weren't expecting this, 

"simon, that's... beautiful"

it was now simon's turn to laugh.

"you dirty liar" 

it clearly wasn't one of those realistic paintings you find in the most prestigious museums, and simon may have overdone it a bit on the length of your hair, but it was the first thing simon thought of drawing, the two of you, when you just gave him a piece of paper.

and the thought gave you butterflies in your stomach.

"I was expecting a lot of sweet words telling how happy and lucky you are to have me in your life, though, because it would have been more romantic to show soap," you say anyway to tease him.

briefly turning his attention away from the game, he gives you a look that you know all too well.

"hmm, i can draw something on you this time that you can show to soap," he says in a suave voice.

"oh yeah? i don't know what you're talking about... can you elaborate a little more? you answer, moving closer to him, your lips brushing against his as you speak.

and it is on this note that he took you, a little too easily, on his shoulders, towards the room. 

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost headcanons #simon riley x gn reader

[cursedkeyboard]

Babies shouldn't grow up ☆ Jason Todd & GN!Reader (PT.3)

What does Jason do after feeding and giving a home to the brat he stole from the slums of Gotham? Raise the kid lovingly like he wished he'd been raised, of course. [PART ONE ♤ PART TWO ♤ PART THREE ♤ PART FOUR ♤ PART FIVE ♤ PART SIX]

Pairings: Platonic Jason Todd & Child GN!Reader

In the beginning, living together wasn't very smooth

Despite your shared pasts, the immediate fondness from Jason, your eagerness for affection and love, you two were still very much strangers

You were hesitant and skittish, often sticking to the guest room Jason said it was yours, since for your entire life you mostly lived by yourself

Jason didn't actually know how to deal with a vulnerable and traumatized child, he wasn't Dick, he didn't have an innate charm that allowed you to be drawn to him easily

But that didn't stop him from trying

Every day, Jason made sure to get you out of your room to eat

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner

Eating was non-negotiable, even if you were used to only a bite or two a day, he wanted you to eat what you could

You felt sick for the first few days, your body unused to so much water and nutrients, causing it to think something was wrong

Jason almost went insane with worry, rubbing your back, carrying you around, and even refusing to go out when you told him you were fine

From your vomiting, you were anything but

Despite his fear and anxiety, Jason sat down to google all your symptoms and treatments when you finally fell asleep after throwing up again

Pushing the multiple deadly diseases and cancers aside, he learned that your body was just a little overwhelmed and all you two had to do was increase your meals little by little instead of shoving food down your throat

Though he still insisted on you drinking at least five cups of water every day

Then, maybe a week or two later once you two were a little more comfortable around each other

You not feeling like a bother anymore and Jason not eating himself with anxiety

The two of you started spend more time together

Jason cut some of his vigilante work, told Bruce to fuck off when he was questioned, and made sure to take you out to buy a year's worth of clothing using the old man's credit card

You started clinging a bit to him, asking him to teach you how to read and write, seeking validation when you managed to understand a whole page without needing help, asking about his life and past

And Jason always made sure to be honest with you, about the good and the bad because he wanted you to trust him

From experience, he knew that keeping things from you would only cause problems down the line

He'd tell you about his days in the slums while preparing a meal, you at his hip helping him put things in the pot

He'd talk about being a Robin with both fondness and bitterness while he helped with your hair, having done so much research to make sure he treated your type of hair correctly

He'd confess about what happened with the Joker, keeping it slightly less gory than it was

About his mother and Batman

About his death, hell, the pit, the after

He'd tell you everything as the days went on

And you'd sit by his side, cuddling with him, hugging him close when his voice trembled

Jason's hold would often tighten around you when he talked about something that made him sick to his stomach

Especially when it was a story about almost losing someone

Like he thought you'd disappear even in his arms

Like that, the trust between the two of you only grew as weeks turned into months and soon enough those months turned into a year

Jason had returned to his normal patrol hours once you were finally caught up with your studies and managed to put you in middle school

You were so damn excited and Jason knew exactly why

For a kid who was deprived of seemingly boring things since forever, school is a place filled with knowledge and wonder

The very first thing you did when you got home was show him a drawing of your hero the art teacher asked your class to make

Jason cried when he saw a poorly sketched version of Red Hood

He put it up in the fridge after printing it twice

You two definitely started matching, by the way

Jackets, shirts, shorts, hats, even phone cases

Jason never thought he'd be so lame as to buy stuff like that but once the two of you wore the exact same ugly christmas sweater, it was over for him

It was a little embarrassing, especially for you

But when you two went out with the same jackets and an elderly couple complimented the father and kiddo duo, you couldn't help but love it too

It was jarring for Jason, for sure

He didn't really consider himself your father, maybe your guardian or your older brother, but... it wasn't too bad

No, in fact, he kind of liked it

You are his kid

God, the restaurant dates

He'd take you to every food place in Gotham

From the ones that made you two throw up for the entire weekend

To the ones that made Bruce call him after spending eight hundred dollars on golden lobsters

It would be no surprise if you ended up liking burgers the most though

Like kid, like father

If you had any problem in school, Jason wouldn't try to hide away

He got himself a fake identity for the sole purpose of making himself your guardian through more than illegal terms

Doesn't even matter if he was in the middle of a meeting with other rogues, heroes or even his family

Jason would drop everything for you

Especially when you punched the fuck out of little Timmy for saying something bigoted

The dean and the teacher would probably try to make him scold you, telling the two of to you that this violent behavior is unacceptable and should not be rewarded

And Jason would look at them, at little Timmy's infuriated mother, and tell them that if Timmy didn't want to get his shit rocked, he should've kept his mouth shut

Of course, he also threatened them saying he'd let all of Gotham know that they protected and encouraged bigoted behavior from ten year olds

Needless to say, little Timmy didn't bother you after that day

And you also got ice cream after getting a two day suspension

"Did he make a noise?"

"Squealed like a fucking pig."

"That's my fucking kid."

Jason wouldn't let you act spoiled

Sure, he'd spoil you rotten, give you everything he wanted as a kid and what you want

But he knows the important of humility

That doesn't mean he'll let anyone ever try to bully you, though

To be continued...

#jason todd #red hood #red hood x you #jason todd x gn!reader #platonic jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #platonic red hood x reader #red hood x gender neutral reader #platonic #jason todd x y/n

[shibaraki]

THE LOVING KIND ┊ BAKUGO KATSUKI

tags: GN reader, pro hero bakugo, reader works at the same agency, pre relationship + established friendship, pining bakugo, hand massages (character receiving)

wc: 1.3k

Katsuki heaves a sighing breath as he falls back against the couch in his office. Weighted, he sinks. The corded muscles in his body feel like wet sand, held together by too tight skin. Worst of all is the incessant ache in his hands — a pulsing pain that beats like his heart.

Half obscured by drooping eyelids, he stares out the wide, floor length windows at the darkening cityscape, dappled by sparse droplets of rain. Night draws on and the sun has sheathed into the horizon. It had been a rough shift, even by his standards.

Katsuki hated winter. Most of all, he hated rain.

Temperatures had been dropping with every coming week; seasons changed, and the once tepid air grew sharper. Wrought by cold, his body pushed its own limits to compensate for the strain on his quirk.

The hot shower hadn’t helped much. Admittedly, he was quietly relieved to be out of uniform and in the comfort of his agency — in his private office, where no one would bother him without prior warning—

A familiar, rhythmic knock pulls him out of his thoughts. He tips his head back into the cushions and grimaces at the damp hair clinging to his nape. You are standing in the doorway with your knuckles lingering against the doorframe, a knowing look on your face.

—No one but you.

“Get lost,” he mutters without any true malice. More than anything, it is an invitation to join him. You know him well enough to hear it, smile widening as you enter.

“You’re a ray of sunshine as always,” you reply. His gaze is drawn to the files you have tucked under your arm, a familiar seal peeking from behind your sleeve, and he groans under his breath.

Waving a hand in the general direction of his work desk and masking the uncomfortable tenderness felt in his wrist, he says, “Just put the reports on my desk. I’ll get them finished before I clock out”.

You hum an acquiescent melody, footfalls leading to the far end of his office. Katsuki’s eyes fall closed in search of respite. It strikes him how significant it is that he can do so when it’s just the two of you.

Over the years you had tentatively but persistently sought to befriend him; he wouldn’t call the seed in his chest that of blossoming friendship, but you were at least pleased to have fought and won your way into his life.

His ears prick at the muted sound of papers being shuffled. A desk draw pulled open with that irritating, stubborn squeak that he can never seem to get fixed. Your tune pauses only for you to make a small noise of accomplishment.

Feeling your presence in front of him, Katsuki’s eyes slide back open. As he’d relaxed his knees had spread, hips slipped further down the couch, sinking into the padding. You’ve seated yourself on the edge of the coffee table, right between his thighs.

There’s a flutter of warmth in his belly — and his immediate impulse is to smother it, to quickly cover the kindling with a damp cloth before it spreads. But your expression is so warm; you’ve reached into him, flint and spark, and you don’t even know it.

You appear completely at ease and he wants to hate you for it. You’re smart, observant, and he likes that about you. There isn’t any reality inwhich you do not see the bob of his throat as he nervously swallows, or the way his stare lingers on your mouth as it moves.

“Gimme your hand,” you instruct him, proffering your own and beckoning with a come hither motion. In the shallow of your palm is his medicated hand cream. He squints to feign suspicion and distract from the rush of blood to his ears.

When he leans forward it’s to snatch the pot out of your hand, but you quickly hold it behind your back. “I can do that shit myself,” he grunts. Elbows now rested on his knees, you’re much closer than before.

The corners of your eyes crinkle. “I know. But I want to do ‘this shit’ for you today,” you nodded back toward the desk. “I even finished up your reports for you already. Let me do this, too”.

He can taste copper on his tongue when he clicks it. The inside of his lip weeps blood, held between his teeth. Your offer is tempting and that in itself is an anomaly. Because Katsuki always does everything himself — his own way.

“Why?”

You blink, as if you hadn’t expected him to ask. Like the answer was entirely obvious. “Because it’s been raining,” you answer.

You’re so annoying, he thinks. “You’re so annoyin’,” he mutters, averting his gaze as he places his sore right hand into yours. “Just— get it over with”.

You’re bright in his periphery. Grinning, eyes positively gleaming. You screw the cap off the tub of balm and scoop some out onto the end of two fingers, spreading it over his skin.

Lightly grasping his wrist, applying firm pressure to your thumbs, you curve them up and down in a slow ‘c’ shaped motion. Slow, warm and smooth, you glide along the length of his forearm and back.

His breathing audibly hitches when you overturn his hand, brushing his inner wrist. “Tender here?” you murmur, massaging at the heel and gradually descending to his palm.

“Bit,” he rasps. Because it isn’t a lie, but it isn’t the truth. You release the tension in his muscles with careful, sensual movements. The cold has retreated from his worn body. Katsuki thinks he’s never been warmer than he is now; the balm is wet and slick, and the sound echoes through him.

You slot into the spaces between his fingers and give attention to each one, rubbing over his blunt nails. Then you intertwine them with your own. Meaningfully meeting his gaze, you roll his wrist clockwise, and then reverse.

These are weapons that have propelled him through the air; destroyed concrete structures and burned flesh. You touch them with what feels like… gratitude. Steadfast affection. And that implication thunders louder in his ears than any explosion could.

Finally, you glide your fingers upward in a gentle rocking motion and relinquish your grip. “One done,” you announce in a low voice, as not to disturb the atmosphere that has encased you both. Katsuki clenches his hand into a fist and finds it barely hurts.

There’s a blush in his cheeks that he can’t will away, and he knows that you see it. Clearing his throat, he says “Not bad”.

Ignoring how easily you perk up, he uses the distraction to successfully steal the pot from you.

“Bakugo—!”

He holds it out of your reach. You steady your clean hand on his thigh as you stretch forward, and a familiar sensation in his abdomen coils tighter. “I can do the other one myself. Stop try’na coddle me, dick head”.

You’re pouting. Annoyingly cute, he thinks. “You’ve had a hard shift. Is it such a crime that I want to do something for you?”

“Yes,” he deadpanned. “You have the same hours as me. What you should be doing is getting your own shit together”.

Your body heat is seeping through the fabric of his sweatpants. Close enough to count each eyelash, to see the minute twitch of a smile at the corner of your lips, to smell the scented bodywash you bring to work every day. “I see how it is,” you drawled. “It’s sweet that you’re worried about me”.

Reflexively, “Am not. Fuck off”.

You laugh at his childishness. The temptation is fleeting, but for a short moment, Katsuki’s resolve weakens, and he feels himself reeled into your magnetism.

Then he rips his hand back, baring his teeth in a wicked grin. “If you want to be useful so badly go get us something to eat”.

“Sure, sure,” you murmur, reaching toward the tissue box in the centre of the coffee table and wiping the excess off your hands. Not once do your eyes stray from his. “Shall I make it spicy?”

“You know the answer to that question”.

Heavily, you get to your feet and leave him as you found him — with an unsettlingly knowing smile. “Yeah. I do”.

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader

[pathetichimbos]

First Meeting - Part Six

((part five here))

Thomas Hewitt/GN!Reader

tagslist: @goodiesinthecloset21 @shykoolade @strawb3rry-gal @ktssstuff @theclownbaby0 @leah-halliwell92 @lost-in-the-fiction-like-ur-mom @aleracrovn @dreamybxnny @dij-ology @todorokitantrum

---

You've run away from home, hitchhiking around Texas as you come up with your next plan, only to find that life has plans of its own when a simple ride with a group of friends lands you at a lone gas station in Travis County, drawn to a mysterious man most seem to avoid.

---

There isn't much left to do, considering you got most of the prep done earlier in the day, so the only real thing left to do is cook the meat and make the broth.

She takes the lead, putting the meat on to cook and having you grind it down and stir it as she adds several seasonings and the onions to the much too large pot.

It's obvious she's comfortable in the kitchen, confident in her choices with no second guesses, each ingredient she adds done with a precision and assuredness that tells you she's spent most of her life in the kitchen.

She cooks the meat down to a simmer before she begins to add in the broth, carefully working the stew together as you lean on the counter next to the big bowl of vegetables you previously cut.

"...Where'd you learn this recipe?" You ask, watching her work and waiting for your next task to be given.

"My grandmama taught me long time ago, when I was much younger than you." She explains, stirring the broth as she gestures for the bowl of vegetables, "She taught me most of everythin' I know."

You hand her the bowl, "Sounds like a nice lady."

"She was." Luda Mae sighs, adding the vegetables into the pot, "Grab me the cornstartch from that cabinet there."

You go to the cabinet she points to and grab the cornstarch, handing it to her. She drops some in a bowl, adding a bit of water to it, mixing it until it's thick.

"...My Mama never taught me much of anything." You confess, though you're not entirely sure why, "I never knew my grandmama either..."

"My Mama didn't teach me nothin' either." Luda Mae shakes her head, adding a bit of the slurry to the pot, "Didn't care much to."

"I'm guessing she wasn't as nice as your grandmama?"

"She was meaner than a junkyard dog, ran off one day when I was a teenager and I never saw her again. My grandmama always told me she drowned, but I was never too sure if that was literal or not."

"What do you mean?"

Luda Mae sighs again, stirring the large pot, "I can't remember a time she loved her children more than her liqour. She was sooner to have a bottle of whiskey in hand than touch a bottle of milk."

You cross your arms, eyes focused on the pot, "...I can understand what that's like."

You don't say much else after that, idly standing by and helping when she needed it, watching her work and making small comments every now and again.

It doesn't take long for the sound of a car pulling in the driveway to drive you upstairs, back in the solitude of the barren bedroom.

You can hear Hoyt come in hollering for help with carrying the groceries in, the previously quiet house now filled with noise and life.

You sit on the floor again, sighing in relief at the feeling of clean clothes on clean skin, your hair still damp from your shower earlier.

There wasn't a feeling quite like it, and you forgot how amazing it was after going almost two months with one or two half washes in lakes and creeks.

You stand up after a moment, brushing off your legs and shorts, before pulling the covers back on the bed. You cringe, seeing the dirt and grime you left the previous night, not wanting to sleep in it now that you were finally clean. You look around for a moment, spotting the extra blanket Thomas had left on the dresser.

You pull the blanket off completely now, tossing it to the bedroom door, letting it pile against the floor. You grab the fresh blanket, hesitating when you see how dirty the sheets still were.

You hang the blanket on the bedframe, deciding to search the closet to see if Thomas had any extra sheets in his closet.

It wasn't a big closet by any means, with a few clean, never before stained clothes hanging up. You spot the clean, light blue sheets on the top shelf, just barely out of reach.

You stand on your toes, reaching as high as you can, grabbing the edge and pulling. The sheets come tumbling down, knocking against the clothes as you barely catch them.

You hesitate, wondering if you made too much noise, but quickly realize Hoyt was being much too loud below you to notice any noise you made.

You shut the closet door, setting the now messily folded sheets on the dresser before pulling the old ones off the bed. You set them beside the bedroom door with the blanket, opting just to flip your pillowcase inside out since you didn't find any of those.

You spend way too long trying to make the bed, each corner of the fitted sheet fighting against you as you try not to let the bedframe bang against any of the walls.

You drop on the bed when you finish, groaning into the pillow out of pure frustration. Sure, being homeless you could handle, but making a bed? That was apparently out of your skill set.

After a few moments of self pity, you shut off the main light in favor of the floor lamp beside the bed, crawling under the covers and curling into your corner of the bed, continuing to read your book.

It's a couple hours before Thomas comes up, the sun just starting to set as he makes his way in.

You look up from your book, seeing he's already taken the liberty to change into his pajamas.

"Hi." You watch as he sits on the bed, taking notice of the new sheets, "I hope you don't mind, I found them in the closet."

He shakes his head, rubbing his hand over the cotton fabric before climbing under the covers nexts to you.

He looks over, seeing you have the same, old book sitting open in your lap, your hand resting on one of the pages to hold your place.

He reaches over, tapping against the side with a questioning look.

"My book?" You ask, blinking a couple of times before closing it and handing it over to him, "Go ahead, I've read it a million times."

He hesitates, carefully looking over the faded cover, running his calloused fingers over the worn spine in such a gentle manner you'd think he was handling something meaningful.

You rest your head on your knees, watching as he nervously opens the book with the same cautiousness one might treat a wild animal.

His eyebrows furrow as starts to read, finger slowly running under each word slowly and carefully, and you can see the confusion in his brown eyes as he struggles.

You watch him try and reread the same sentence three times before reaching a hand out, gently resting on his wrist, "...Are you having trouble reading?"

He sighs, setting the book down with a shameful nod, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.

"Hey, that's okay. A lot of people can't read all that well, no worries," You carefully pull the book from his grasp, moving closer to his side, "Here, I'll read it to you."

He's caught off guard by your sudden offer, but makes no move to stop you.

You open the book, setting it down so half rests on his leg and the other on yours, your finger tracing under the words as you begin to read.

His eyes follow along carefully, sometimes stopping you to tap at a word when he doesn't know it's meaning, your voice calming as he listens carefully.

By the end of the first chapter, he's relaxed against your side, head resting on your shoulder as you read each word carefully, doing your best to bring the story to life.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay awake, reading the book with the company of the crickets and the moonlight, but the silence of the first floor slowly creeping through the floorboards tells you everyone has gone to bed, and the height of the moon warns you the late hours will soon become early.

You fail to hold back another yawn, blinking wearily as you continue reading, the words beginning to blend together on the worn pages.

You don't particulary remember falling asleep, but the next thing you're consiously aware of is the soft light of the rising sun peaking through the window.

You can feel the bed shift as you groan, curling in on yourself and burying yourself deeper into the warmth of the bed, not ready to face the world quite yet.

You feel yourself begin to drift this time, your mind swirling with the chaotic nonsense of a half-asleep brain trying to dream.

The images dart around, blurry and fast as you try to balance yourself in an unreal situation.

It's dizzying, the heat of your lungs burning a hole through your chest, choking on the air you needed to breathe.

The humidity cages you in, the space around you closing in, your own skin too tight against your body as all too familiar, blood curdling screams swallow any sense of sanity you're supposed to have.

“No, no, please, let us go!”

“God, why me? Why us, God, why–”

“Please, please, let me go, please-”

The bed is hot when you wake, choking on your own air as you sit up, covering your mouth to quiet your coughs.

Your eyes are wide as you stare ahead, keeping your mouth covered through the deep breaths you're taking.

A buzz rests deep in your bones, your mind vibrating with a dissociative tune, and it takes you a few minutes to remember you're actually real.

You let out a shaky sigh, rubbing your face as you regain control of yourself, the nightmare already mostly forgotten as your mind continues waking up.

The sun rests high in the sky, beating down on you through the dusty glass of the window, letting the feeling of the suffocating heat sting your skin.

You take another deep breath, finally registering the sound of voices carrying through the house as you let your head hang in your hands.

The faint smell of an already cooked breakfast tells you it's still morning, but the height of the sun gives way that it's later, perhaps almost noon.

You crawl to the edge of the bed, taking a seat as the hazy fog in your mind begins to clear.

Hoyt's voice still carries through the house, telling you that you'd be stuck in the bedroom for a while longer.

It's strange, hiding from a man in his own home, but Thomas keeps you hidden from him for a reason, and that's enough to keep your footsteps quiet as you stand to make the bed, the shake in your limbs slowly fading away as the panic subsides.

You're not sure if it's the remanents of the forgotten nightmare or the anxiety of being almost trapped in this home, but you can't seem to stop your mind from running wild as you pull the blanket back.

What happens when Hoyt finds out?

That question leads nothing but more anxiety and contemplation, making your head spin.

How long do you plan to stay here? How long do they plan to let you? How long do you have before you're thrown back out to the streets with nothing more than a bag of dirty clothes and an old book to your name?

Your head begins pounding with the migraine you're giving yourself as you pull the sheet taunt against the bed you've slept in for the last two nights.

You swallow, mind drifting back to the first night you stayed here.

"S-T-A-Y."

The memory of Thomas' words tingle against your palm, and it presents you with a new question.

Would they ever let you leave?

#first meeting #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #thomas hewitt x y/n #thomas hewitt x s/o #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #slasher x you #slasher x y/n #slasher x s/o

[neytiriism]

۰࿐·˚ ༘ 𓆛 YOU’RE HIS PEACE ۰࿐·˚ ༘ 𓆛

featuring. neteyam + lo’ak (separate)

gn!na’vi!reader.

wc. 746

author’s note. I love avatar and I loved atwow so why not write something for my faves🤷🏾‍♀️<33 reblogs + feedback are appreciated!!

NETEYAM

as the oldest, neteyam is always under so much pressure. the poor boy couldn’t catch a break. whether it be from looking after his younger siblings (mostly lo’ak) or living up to his father’s expectations, he always has some kind of weight on his shoulders. he’s meant to be the responsible one, the strong one, the leader but, he can’t always be that way. it’s impossible. he needs to be able to let loose and just be normal, even if it’s just for a little while. that’s why he seeks you out as much as he can, no matter where you are or what you’re doing.

you’re the only thing keeping him together. you’re like the calm in the middle of his storm. you see him. you see into him. you know his struggles and his pain so he doesn’t need to be this strong guy when he’s with you. he can let his guard down. you make neteyam feel safe and every time he’s with you feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest. he feels free.

when neteyam got back to the village, his first order of business was to find you. he had a particularly rough day dealing with his brother and he needed you to calm him down. he found you quickly, you were always easy for him to find. his eyes were always drawn to you no matter where you were.

“y/n!” he called as he ran up to you.

your ears perked up at the sound of his voice. “netey- oh!” you yelped.

neteyam had scooped you up in his arms, squeezing you around your waist as he spun you around. “i missed you.” he mumbled into your chest.

you smiled and patted his head. “i missed you too, nete. now put me down.”

neteyam lightly placed on the ground but his hands never left your hips. he pulled you in until your foreheads were touching and looked at you with loving eyes.

“what has gotten into you?” you asked. “i haven’t seen you this happy since you rode an ikran for the first time.”

neteyam smiled and squeezed your hips lightly. “I just love being with you.”

you leaned up to kiss his lips and in that moment he felt all of his stress melt away. he was at peace.

LO'AK

lo’ak is a problem child. he knows this. he’s the rebel, the troublemaker, the outcast. and his father of course doesn’t let him forget it. whether it be after a raid or even just getting into trouble with other na’vi, his father always lets him know how angry and disappointed he is in him. always telling him off and comparing him to his older brother, it feels like it’s never-ending. and there’s only so much lo’ak can handle before he wants to blow up at everyone. so when he starts to feel that way is when he goes to find you.

you were the only one that made him feel like he was good enough, the only one that made him feel like he belonged. you always uplifted him and encouraged him no matter what because you knew that he had a good heart. sometimes you didn’t even need to speak for him to feel better. you were his comfort, his home.

lo’ak stormed away from his family’s hut wanting no more than to be away from his father for a while. he was tired of the ridicule, he just couldn’t deal with it that day so he set out to find you.

it didn’t take him long to spot you under a tree near the beach, carving some new beads for your hair. you looked so calm, so happy, that’s what he needed right now.

“lo’ak!” you said happily. “how are you?”

he doesn’t say anything as he walks up to you. he only sits down next to you and pulls you into his lap, resting his head on your chest. your heartbeat soothes him, it brings him peace.

“lo’ak?” you ask.

no response. he only tightens his grip around your waist and nuzzles further into your chest.

“lo’ak what is wrong? did something happen?”

“don’t worry about that. just be here with me please.” he whispers.

you sigh and wrap your arms around him, softly running your fingers through his hair and down his back. he lets out a soft sigh of contentment at the sensation, wishing he could stay like this with you forever.

© 2023 copyright. all rights reserved. @neytiriism.

#neteyam x reader #lo’ak x reader #neteyam sully #lo’ak sully #avatar x reader #atwow #avatar way of water #atwow x reader #neteyam headcanons #lo’ak headcannons #avatar fanfiction #neteyam fluff #lo’ak fluff #avatar james cameron #avatar headcanons #lo’ak avatar #neteyam avatar #࿐·˚ ༘ neytiriism🐚

[darkdemeter]

— TEASER —

“GUARD DOG”

Material is subject to potential changes and edits

A/N: By readers' vote, ACT I: AMBER & BLOOD is the desired segment for the teaser. Still currently writing act II and we're 6.5k words in! No, we've not even reached the middle of the story yet.

Mafia! Wanda Maximoff x (Dark) Werewolf! GN/Female/Male Reader

— READER DISCRETION —

Mafia au — bit of angst — kinda fluff or hurt/comfort? idk... — brief mention of death and grief — use of y/n — I think that's it

Enjoy the excerpt!

—- not my gif, credit to original poster! -—

“Rumlow aims to snuff out the entire Maximoff Family in order to gain territory. And he’s not going to stop until he’s put you in the ground too.” 

How could your words be so hard to hear but equally so right in their conviction? You were trusted by her parents, someone they considered part of the family despite your otherwise humble dismissal that you were just a guard to the family. They considered you equal to their standing. 

And Wanda waved off your warnings as if you didn’t have a clue. Hell, she doesn’t even know half of what you had to endure at the facility. The horrors of your time growing up in that damn place are accounts you’re not overly excited to share with anyone. 

“Wanda,” you say her name to draw her unfocused eyes, to bring her back to you, “you’re all I have to protect now. I swore that I would do everything in my ability, and I will. But promise me, you won’t do anything like that again.”

Your eyes hold her attention, firm and unwavering in the looming silence between you. She feels her heartbeat race a little quicker now as she becomes lost in the certainty of your protection, the caged beast beneath the surface, she nods. “I promise.”

“Good.” You sigh heavily as something finally eases the tension in your shoulders, you let them drop lower and bow your head, face inches from resting in her lap. Her fingers comb the length of your hair, soft and drenched from your quick shower to rinse off the blood that clung to your fur. 

She lets her head dip as well and soak in the scent of your shampoo, a strong smell of pine, something naturistic, compared to the one she used. Not at all the scent she would peg you for with your rough exterior and stoic personality.

But that was all a front. Time and time again she’s seen a side to you that you keep away from others. A tenderness you reserve for her, even your claws tend to be drawn back whenever you’re just in her company. Much like they were now, she marvels at the sight of those sharpened tips that you use as a weapon, as they now reduce back into the nail beds. 

Other than that, all she got to see was your dominating and intimidating stature, tough as iron front, letting all know that she was under your unwavering protection. That you guard her. 

Your head rolls up and your noses brush against each other, breaths mingling together in the miniscule gap between your lips, an inch apart you would have considered inappropriate before. But that was when you were unsure and reserved, humbly turning down any sort of praise and keeping your feelings locked away in some dark corner of your heart. 

Before you came to realise you were in love with her. 

You try to calm the rapid increase of your heart rate as if somehow she is still in the clutches of immediate danger, that at any moment she will be taken from you. Her lips, so plump and full and kissable, ghost over yours in silent contemplation. She knows just as well as you that this teeters on a fine line, that this can jeopardise everything between the two of you. 

And nobody could know. A werewolf guard and the heiress to one of the largest and well established criminal empires in the world, if anyone found out, it would cost you both everything. 

What terrifies you is the thought that you could lose Wanda at any moment. The constant what if questions. 

‘What if I were unable to prevent her demise? What if I fail her?’

“I just can’t lose you, Wanda.”

You shake your head at your own words, their meaning so plain and simple: a confession. 

“I promised your parents that I would always protect you.” 

It’s like she could see through the cover up. Yes, you did swear yourself to them that you would protect their children, their daughter, but you also used it as a line of defence. To save face from the awfully timed confession. 

“They’re gone, Y/N. Swear it to me.” 

Her hands cup the shape of your face, the pads of her thumbs soft, delicate against the contours of your features, the tiny and healed scars that littered your face alone, the rest of them were hidden beneath your clothes, how her simple touch calms you and makes you more alive than ever. Her touch is a revival. For once, you’re given the reprieve you long for. To feel trusted wholeheartedly. Loved.

Your hands run up the sides of her thighs until they pause right on the rise of her rear, your fingers grasp firmly and tug her that little bit closer, your forehead pressed to hers and that amber glow shines brightly in your eyes in the dimly lit room. 

“I swear it.” 

Your lips come together as two separate forces once held far apart for too long, now the pull draws you both inwards to the other, magnetic and electrical. Passionate and hungry. You waste no time in sharing one another’s taste as your tongues glide and entangle amidst the heat of your kiss. 

Thank you for reading! (◕ ᴥ x)

#female reader #werewolf reader #gn reader #male reader #dem's updates #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x werewolf! reader #marvel #mcu #wanda maximoff #mafia au #werewolf #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda x werewolf reader #teaser

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

Kafka with a tsundere reader (I love Kafka SO MUCH…)

Kafka with a tsundere reader

characters: Kafka x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: GET YOUR WISHES READY. IT'S HAPPENING. Less than 24 hours until Kafka releases. So I decided now would be a great opportunity to write something for her, as something of an offering to the Gacha gods...

I'm so down bad for this woman. I swear...

I wish everyone pulling for her the best of luck and I’ll see you on the other side!

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Kafka

While the Stellaron Hunters were composed of all different kinds of personalities, the ones Kafka kept around herself the most weren’t the most jovial of creatures. Silverwolf ironically preferred to ignore the tendencies of the animal in her name and rather work alone, while Bladie never was all too talkative in the first place.

And then there was you, someone trying so hard to match the stone-faced attitudes of your co-workers, that it was almost a crime not to try and get you to show your real feelings. A crime Kafka for once in her life didn’t intend to commit.

Kafka’s teasing was a misfortune every Stellaron Hunter working with her at least once had to endure. One you begrudgingly had to admit was fun to watch whenever you weren’t her target, the urge to join in whenever the purple-haired woman broke through Silverwolfs stoic facade forcing you to bundle up all of your self-control on more than one occasion.

Today however, was not your lucky day, as it quickly became clear who today’s victim would be.

“Come on, finish what you just wanted to say”, Kafka urged you to continue with a smile so devilish even Nanook would have felt creeped out. It had been foolish enough of you to let your compliment slip out in the first place, especially when Blade and Silverwolf were in the room, but all hopes of not drawing a giant Target on yourself were lost when you cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence, making the fact that it was a slip up as clear as day.

“There is nothing to finish, I was just talking to myself”, you lied as naturally as you breathed, hoping it would be enough to get Kafka to stop. Only for your hopes to be crushed in front of your very eyes as you saw her face light up in a familiar way, one signaling that giving up was the last thing on her mind right now.

“You’re lying.” While being called out on your obvious lie already was enough to make you lose your composure, her teasing tone sent blood flooding directly into your cheeks, causing them to turn red in almost an instant

With one swift turn of your head towards Blade you silently begged him for help, only for your fellow Stellaron Hunter to face away, putting all of his attention onto his weapon. And while you ought to have felt betrayed by his action, knowing how you did the same whenever it was someone else’s turn made you unable to hold a grudge against him.

Silverwolf however was a different story. As when you glanced towards her, you weren’t just brushed off, but instead were greeted by an amused smile, one radiating enough Schadenfreude to feed an entire planet of sadists. Before you knew it however, your attention was once again drawn to Kafka as you tried your best to find the right words to say.

“...I said the new coat suits you”, you murmured out just loud enough for her to hear you, nevertheless she gave you one more teasing smile, one wider than all of the previous.

“That’s interesting, I could have sworn I’ve heard a ‘B’ somewhere. Something along the lines of ‘You look beau-’”, she continued, dragging the last word out in anticipation of what you would say while forcing you to look her in the eyes.

“You look beautiful today”, you finally whispered in defeat, her ears immediately picking up on your words. For a moment you expected her to pretend she didn’t hear you, forcing you to say it once again, just louder. However, it seemed as if getting you to spit it out was enough for her as she showed you a satisfied grin before letting you finally go. Sparring you the embarrassment of having your fellow crewmates hear what exactly you had said that caused you to get this stand-offish.

Or at least that’s what she let you think for a few seconds.

“Oh you think I look beautiful today? Thank you, you’ve got quite the looks yourself.” The big smile on Kafka’s face was hard to miss, although you were far too embarrassed to look back up at her, your red face glued to your shoes for at least the next hour.

No matter how hard you tried to match your colleagues' blank expressions, there was always one person for whom you were as easy to read as an open book.

#kafka x reader #hsr kafka #kafka x y/n #kafka x you #kafka #kafka honkai star rail #kafka hsr

[agendercrisisx]

hello!! I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do Kirishima x gn!reader hcs where Kirishima has a crush on them. Reader having like some kind of chemist or potions quirk (chemicals >:]) and have a very eccentric style (potion bottle earings, crystal necklaces, drawn on shoes, homemade bracelets etc . Whatever your cool with writing for)

Absolutely, this is such a cute idea. I'm so down. This is split into sfw and nsfw headcannons, so you can choose what you wanna read. Have fun:)

Kirishima has never really been very spiritual, or anything in that sense. A day after school Mina takes him to the local crystal shop, looking for rose quartz to make her love life more interesting. She finds the crystal she wants, while Kirishima is just looking around, more interested in the different types of rock than he would like to admit. Then he sees you and his heart is already beating faster just by looking. Your whole aesthetic has him enchanted, the energy surrounding you, makes him crave you.

SFW headcanons:

He comes into the shop every day after school just to say a single hello to you. He would do anything just to hear your voice.

He sometimes buys stuff even though he would never use it, just to have a reason to talk to you even longer.

All the stuff he buys he puts in a small box, waiting for the day he can give them all to you.

He always asks you about yourself, trying to get to know you. Slow and steadily, he does.

He buys your favorite crystals, so he has them by hand.

He buys so many rose quartzs hoping one of them will attract you to him.

He always offers at least one of the things from his haul to you. A potion bottle earring set, a new kind of crystal he knows you don't have in your collection, a bag full of exotic beads, crystal pendants of all types. You never accept, if only you knew that everything he did was for you.

After months he finally gets the courage to ask you out. It takes a few times of convincing because you don't wanna hurt him or make him uncomfortable if he has to come to the shop afterward. (If something bad happens.)

He assures you nothing bad is gonna happen and you eventually say yes.

You wear your favorite clothes and shoes, and Kirishima can't take his eyes off you. You look so perfect. With all the different kinds of unique accessories, in your hair, around your neck, on your fingers, and around your wrist. Even your shoes are unique. Drawn by yourself. Everything about you makes him weak.

He takes you to your favorite restaurant, buys you your favorite flowers, and makes sure it's a magical night.

He drives you home, kissing your lips so softly before he leaves.

In the morning he sends you a text, telling you how much he enjoyed your night and that he would love to do it again.

Only a few dates later, he asked you to be his partner.

You agree. And he finds all the stuff he bought from you, showing you everything, and telling you about how he only got it because he liked you. You thought it was cute, and as he told you everything was yours, you couldn't help but cry from happiness.

This man does everything to make you happy, buying you anything you point at. Always getting you your favorite food. Making sure you're always comfortable and often taking time to give you a massage after a long day.

He loves you so much, every part of you. Your eyes, your lips, your personality, your humor, your niche thinking, your interest. Everything about you is perfect to him.

NSFW headcanons:

He takes care of you in all ways possible, even when you're moaning beneath him. Gasping for air as he pounds into you.

He always cares for you first, his own needs being not near as important as yours.

He takes his time when he wanna fuck you. He is big and without prepping he's not fitting.

He takes his time warming you up, either on his fingers or with his tongue, carefully loosening your tight little hole so he can make you take his cock.

Making you cum several times before he even thinks about gliding into you.

He loves when you cum, he loves the fact that he made you cum. He loves making you feel good, no matter where or when.

You could wake him up in the middle of the night, and he would spend hours making you scream.

You could be in a restaurant, and you could just give him a certain look and he would be on his knees before you in the bathroom eating you out.

How he loves your body, it's so perfect it made for him. Every nook and cranny fits just perfectly with his own.

And when he has made you cum a few times, and you feel loose enough. He will slowly guide his cock into you.

Taking it slow at first. Not wanting to hurt you. But slowly building the pace, so he can fuck into you.

He loves to explore, try every position, you wanna try. But he loves the one where your legs are on his shoulders the most.

You never scream as loud as when he is pounding into you while in maiden press.

It makes you both feel so good, so he never stops. Going for hours, not caring for his own release, just that you cum again and again. Not even being able to move your legs at the end.

And when you finally beg him to stop, he'll cum. Deep inside, making sure it's a nice creampie.

After he'll take so good care of you, cleaning you and massaging your every muscle. To make sure you're okay.

Ordering your favorite food, so he can feed it to you. Getting you, your favorite drink, so you'll drink something.

Cuddling you after and letting you pick your favorite movie. Doing everything he can to make sure you enjoy, and feel amazing even afterwards.

#samx|request| #samx|headcannon| #bnha #mha #smut #mha smut #bnha smut #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #gn reader #kirishima smut #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima x reader #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #kirishima eijiro

[shoyoist]

— 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐑(𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒) : kurokawa izana.

content: gn!reader. dom reader, sub izana. handjob, edging, praising, riding dick, overstim, multiple orgasms (m), dacryphilia. note: happy birthday izana, my pretty princess!

— . ｡˚ ♡ izana wants to own things. he also wants you to own him.

izana is used to being showered in praise. his subordinates and friends do it often — and kakucho, his most loyal partner and confidant, never misses a chance to give him all the compliments he deserves (and more that he doesn't. kakucho flatters him too much).

so he should be used to it, really. shouldn't be fazed by sweet words or high admiration. shouldn't feel shy.

but he doesn't know how else to feel, when you lean in close, your warmth spilling from your skin into his when you press yourself to his side — and whisper, "mm, 'zana. so pretty like this."

his breath hitches when your fingers tighten around the shaft of his cock, lithe and lazy in how you pump the length, cooing more hushed praise into his ear while you lean even closer, and press your lips to the side of his neck.

he feels hot, feverish, almost — shivering when the fingers of your other hand crawl up the nape of his neck, nails scratching against his undercut as you carress his silvery hair. "h—hngh, please."

"mhm?" you purr, so saccharine in his ear as you snap your wrist once more — fist going to his cockhead, thumb collecting the pearls of cum that have gathered at his tip, before going back down. "what was that, princess?"

and in any other situation, izana would strike someone down if they dared to call him a 'princess'. if they saw him anything less than yokohama tenjiku's fearsome leader, the emperor of the nation's underground world, he would kill them. without hesitation.

but right now? right now, with your lips icy on his throat and your gentle touch at the back of his neck, with your hand around his cock, he is a princess. he's your princess. a princess, laid across his bedchambers, at the mercy of his sweet, sweet lover. "please."

"tell me, my love." you urge, arm wrapping around his shoulders as you pull him close and lock lips with him in a kiss. it's not a very deep kiss, but with how close he is to his orgasm, the force of it still puts stars in his hazy, violet eyes. "i'll give it to you, if you tell me."

you know what he wants. you're teasing him, edging him — dangling him on the cusp, and his body quivers, drawn taut with the need to find release.

"wanna—" the word catches in his throat, and he has to swallow. "wanna cum. can't fuckin' take it."

"tsk, baby." you nudge his head back towards yours when he pulls away, continuing the kiss. "say it nicely."

"wanna cum," he repeats into your mouth. "please? i—i cant. cant take it tonight, please. need to cum."

"good boy." you smile, and he lets out a keen when you increase the pace of your fist up and down his stiff cock, giving him one more kiss on the cheek before letting his head fall back against the pillows and the headboard, moving your free hand down to trace a finger lightly against his balls. "my good lil princess. you want to cum?"

izana's hips jerk, the ticklish sensation so good but just not enough to send him over the edge. he gasps, breathless as you spit on his cock and fuck it harder, cheeks burning with the effect of your words and how fucking blissful you're making him feel. "fuck, yes!"

you laugh, and it makes his face feel hotter still, but god it feels good. he's so close, has been so close for so long, and he wants more, more, more—

he cums with a sharp gasp, a choke that makes its way out without his voice, when you give his balls a final squeeze, and the heaviness of them along with the tightness in his stomach becomes too much to take. "a—ah!"

his hand scrabbles with the blanket underneath him, curling the material into his fist as he moans, ropes of thick, messy cum spilling from him.

"there we go," you sigh, watching how it splatters his thighs, his abs and the sheets, as you continue squeezing his balls and pumping his cock, determined to milk him through. "there we go."

"fuck— fuck, fuck," izana hisses, voice high and wispy, grabbing your arm in a weak attempt to get you to slow down.

"doing so well, princess." you say, ignoring the way he tries to allow himself a pause, and though the room is dark, you know his cock's flushed bright, drooling as you continue bobbing your hand back and forth. "so, so well."

he only whimpers in return, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes, chest heaving — his cock throbs against your touch, and you let go for a second, making him think you were done—

but then, your knees dip the mattress around his hips as you climb on top of him, and his eyes open again. "what—"

"shhh," you slide a hand in his hair, tug his face close to yours. taking his cock, now half limp, back in your grip, you level his head with your entrance as you kiss him. "that was so good, princess. came so hard for me. do it again? inside me?"

"but 'm tired." izana mumbles, but his hands latch onto your waist anyway, pulling you down on his cock as you sink onto it. your walls are velvety, wet and warm and tight around him — miles better than your hand, and his cock twitches, weepy and so sensitive to it all.

"you can do it." you tell him, resting your palms at his shoulders and giving him an experimental roll of your hips. he bites his lip, head lolling backwards for a moment before he composes himself.

"fuck, baby i—" he's so cute. so fucking cute, pliant as he lays underneath you, bronze skin glowing with a thin sheen of sweat, the shine of it rippling with each breath he takes.

you want to ruin him.

"shhh," you cut him off again. "quiet. be good for me. i know you want it so bad."

and god, he does want it. he does, he does.

emperor of the underworld, tenjiku's unbending leader, the undefeated, immortally powerful kurokawa izana — a whimpering mess, pressed to the sheets, near tears as you fuck him through.

he loves it. being vulnerable, being taken over, being a pretty little princess — he loves it, with you. loves being owned by you.

"princess," you moan, bouncing yourself on his cock as he falls back into the pillows, pale waves of hair fanning out underneath as he arches his back and cries out, tears welling in his eyes with the excess of pleasure that courses through him with each move of your body around his cock. "so beautiful, princess. my princess."

"cant," izana sobs, even though you know and he knows, that he can and wants to take more. "cant do any more — haah — no more."

"feels good?" you ask anyway, because it never hurts to make sure.

"so good!" he whines, clutching your hips and digging his nails into the plush skin, begging you to go harder, to tighten your legs around his waist, move faster and faster.

you give him a fond smirk, eyes sparking with lust and adoration for your pretty boy, watching him go breathless, watching the tears run down his cheeks as he cums again, too soon after his first orgasm.

hot cum fills you up, and the feeling drives you closer and closer to your own high, the fucked out expression on izana's face and the trembling of his thighs under you only fueling your drive.

"mm, please—no more! no more, can't take anymore!" he sobs, and this time, you know he's been pushed near his limit. but then he cries again, tears glimmering at the corners of his eyes, "so good!"

so you roll your hips again, his cock hitting your sweetest spots, as you sink deeper onto him, digging his sensitive head into your favourite places, coaxing out an orgasm of your own.

"shit, 'zana," you stutter, hands tightening around his shoulders as you struggle to maintain yourself — fuck, it feels so good, so hot and so wet, you could collapse.

the white hot, searing wave of euphoria racks through you at the same time that it hits izana as well, and he whines out an overstimulated 'mm, i love you' before he's gasping for air again, the pulsing clench of your heat around his cock too much to handle.

the cold burn of his overstimulation aches, stings. and izana likes it. likes it so much.

"i love you too, princess." you exhale, hot and heavy, bending down to steal an open-mouthed, sloppy kiss from him. he moans into your mouth, finally finding it in him to buck his hips up to meet your thrusts — and jerks his head up for more when you begin to pull back.

pretty little pain-slut, you think with a smile, as you kiss him again. you'll call him that another time, though. for tonight, he's your princess. "gonna take more for me?"

and izana nods, looking up pleadingly with his violet eyes wide and innocent, begging for more. he'll always take more for you.

anything for you — who brings his emperor's front down and turns him into a blissed out, teary little princess, and loves him that way.

"good boy."

#izana smut #izana x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tr smut #tr x reader #kurokawa izana x reader #kurokawa izana smut #izana drabbles #izana headcanons #tokyo revengers drabbles #tokyo revengers headcanons #.𓆩 — REKHA™.♡𓆪 #.𓆩 — FERVELOQUY.♡𓆪

[girlfailure-smut-hour]

Study Date with Enki

Nsfw content MDNI

SERIOUS TRIGGERS IN THIS ONE PLEASE READ THE CW

Characters: Virgin!Enki X GN!Reader, Modern!AU

CW: Mentions of self-harm and pretty extreme implied physical abuse, Implied possible eating disorder, Hurt/Comfort, Oral (Giving) Penetration (Recieving), Romantic and a little angsty .

A/N: I'm posting this one outside of my usual schedule cause I don't want anyone to feel ripped off lol. I usually do more... normal stuff for more normal fandoms. This one's for all the weirdos. I wrote it months ago and have been holding onto it, but it's as good a time as ever. So I'm finally putting my weird nonsense into the world (Sorry.) I love the stinky bugs-and-opium-wizard. You invite Enki for a study date to seduce him. I might write a sequel with a transfem Enki. ~2700 Words.

Please check out my fic masterlist <3

It took some doing, but you’d convinced Enki Ankarian to come over for a study date. It all started when you saw him in the library, at a table covered in stacks of books, his naturally Grey hair spilling over his face. He was so serious, scribbling notes with an almost frantic expression.

He was standoff-ish at first, but you broke through his facade with a little earnest care. You took interest in his strange fascination with the occult, withstood his seemingly random insults, and shared with him some of your own interests. It took weeks, but finally he let his defenses down and finally accepted your invitation.

You hear a knock at your apartment door exactly one minute early, and peering through the peephole you see him. He stands there in an ill-fitting sweater vest with a comical number of books nestled under his arm. In fact you’re not really sure how he’s carrying them all with his frail little arms.

You open the door and say “Enki! You made it!”

He smiles, subtly, and walks past you to set his books down. Among them you can spot books on things like demonology and fringe religious texts. A heavily worn and annotated copy of The Lesser Key of Solomon sits on top.

You walk over to the bar with him and sit down across from him. His glasses keep sliding down his bony nose as he stacks his books, but it’s cute. He looks like a librarian or something.

“Would you like anything to drink?” You ask.

“What do you have?” He replies.

“Soda, and water.”

“Anything harder?”

“Afraid not,” You reply.

“I’m okay,” he grumbles.

“Suit yourself,” You say, grabbing a drink.

He’s already immersed himself in a book by the time you sit down. “Is that for one of your classes?” You ask.

“Just a hobby,” He replies, writing notes.

What is it about this gnarled, rude, strange boy that attracts you so much? There's a certain something to him that's hard to place, but you can't help but be drawn in by him. Maybe it’s his sad stare, or maybe the passion you can sense in his feverish studies.

Maybe it was a mistake inviting him for a study date. You knew how fastidious he was in his studies and now he’s hardly talking to you. You sigh and buckle down on your own studies, but after an hour or so, he suddenly stands up. “Going out for a smoke,” He says.

You follow him out onto the patio and snatch his lighter from the railing. As he puts the cigarette between his lips, you flick the lighter and hold it up for him. He leans forward, pulling his hair away. The gentle ember gives his pale face a rich orange tone as he draws the first puff

"Why are you so nice to me?" He grumbles.

Because I want to fuck you, you think. "Everyone deserves a chance,” You say. “You're a sweet guy, Enki. And passionate. I don't know. Do I need a reason?"

He grumbles something to himself.

“So what got you into the occult?” You ask.

“It’s something I get from my family,” He replies, wincing.

“How’s that?” You ask.

"I shouldn’t have said anything,” He says. “I don't really want to get into my family situation. It's… ugly. Like me." His face contorts into a snarl.

“You should be nicer to yourself,” You say, gently touching his shoulder. He reflexively pulls away. Maybe in disgust, or maybe it’s some kind of trauma.

“Perhaps I should," he replies, Staring out into the sunset. His eyes glaze over, like a corpse almost. You decide to watch the sunset as well. There’s something to a quiet introspective moment like this.

He shakes his head as he takes his last puff, flicking the butt out into the parking lot.

“You ready to head in?” You ask. He nods his head, and you open the door for the two of you.

Walking behind him you spot a knot in his hair. Even though he’s grown it well past his back, it appears he doesn't take care of it at all.

“Could I brush your hair?” You ask as he sits down.

“I’m sorry?” He asks, jolting and turning around to you.

“Your hair,” You say. “I’d like to brush it.” He’s squinting at you, and you can’t tell what is going on behind those eyes. “It’s just so beautiful,” You add.

“If you must,” He says after a moment.

After retrieving your gentlest hairbrush, you pull a stool up behind him and sit down.

“Please be careful,” he says.

“Awww does the baby have a tender scalp?” You tease.

“I don’t have to let you brush my hair,” He snaps.

“I’m only teasing,” you giggle, before taking a strand of his knotted hair and holding it so it wouldn’t tug on his scalp when you pulled the brush through. He winced, but didn’t pull himself away from his studies. His hair is a wreck, but not unsalvageable. It would be worthwhile for him to consider at least a trim though.

“I wish I had detangling spray,” You remark. “This would be so much easier.”

He just grumbles something under his breath as you continue to brush. It feels like his hair is all knots. You could be here all night as far as you know. You tenderly run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, but not his typical sigh. A sort of relief, or maybe pleasure. You gently scratch his scalp and something akin to a quiet moan escapes his lips.

It takes nearly an hour, but you finally work out his knots. You didn’t notice at the time, but at some point, he stopped his studying to lean his head back, closing his eyes.

“Alright,” You say “I’m all done!”

He jumps as if startled and sits up to continue his studying. “Thank you,” He replies.

“When you condition your hair, make sure to get the ends,” You tell him. “That will help with the tangles.”

“Sure,” He says.

You brush your fingers through his hair again and say, “You really do have beautiful hair.”

“Thank you,” He replies.

“You should let me wash it some time.”

He nearly keeps his composure, but you notice a slight jump, or maybe a shiver. “I don’t think that will be happening,” he says.

“Who knows you might enjoy yourself,” you tempt him. 

You begin to scratch his back and he shivers. You can feel his spine, even through several layers of clothing. He feels emaciated. You could probably sling him over your shoulder, he seems so skinny.

“Why are you so affectionate toward me?” He asks. “I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”

“Enki,” You say, “I like you.”

He turns around and starts to get up. “I don’t know what kind of cruel joke this is, but I don’t appreciate it.”

You stand up too and brush his hair behind his ear, looking into his eyes. Without warning, you plant a kiss on his sunken cheek. His knees nearly buckle.

“You’re serious…” He says. You nod. “This is a date?” You nod again. “Not, like, a date, but a capital D date?”

“Yes Enki,” You laugh.

“Oh my god,” He says. “I feel so stupid now. I-I’ve been so mean to you, and you-you…”

He stammers and stutters until you just kiss him. On the lips this time. He puts his arms around you to hold himself up. It’s a tender kiss, not too much, but you do slip a little tongue in. You put your hand on his chest and feel his heart pounding.

As you pull away, He’s blushing, bringing just a little color to his pale skin. You try not to notice, but his pants have gotten a little tighter now as well.

“I want you, Enki” you say.

“So quickly?” He asks, his face lighting up in nervous excitement.

“Why not?” You ask. “But it’s okay if you’re not ready.”

“I think I am,” He replies, glancing down and blushing even harder.

"Come to the room with me," you say, offering your hand. He gives you a nervous smile as he takes it.

He gulps as you enter the room. “There’s something… I don’t know how to say this.”

“Don’t worry Enki,” You reply. “You’re not going to scare me off.”

“It’s just…” he starts, “I have some scars.”

You smile at him as you take his hand and unbutton his sleeves. “Don’t worry about it.” You roll them up to reveal hesitation marks. Quite a few of them. You hold his wrists to your lips and kiss them. “Sweet boy. I’m so sorry.”

You do the same for his other wrist, then grab his sweater from the bottom, and lift it over his head. You start to unbutton his shirt, but he stops you by placing his hand in front of the buttons. “I’m sorry,” he says. “This was a mistake.” He looks like he might cry.

“Enki,” You reply, cupping a hand to his cheek. “I won’t judge you.”

He drops his hand and allows you to start unbuttoning his shirt. There’s little muscle or fat between the skin and bones. You notice more scars as more of his chest is revealed. Some long, some short. You push his shirt off of him and it falls to the floor. You brush your hand over his chest and all of his scars. He flinches. “There’s nothing to worry about,” You say. “I won’t hurt you.”

You run your hands over his back, feeling his prevalent spine with your fingers. You also notice even more scars to your surprise. Long, deep ones. Scars in places he wouldn’t be able to reach. Oh Enki, what happened to you? You think.

Now you move your hands down to his pants. He’s hard as a rock, and it’s impossible not to notice. You undo the button, and pull down the zipper. A light crop of light gray pubic hair peeks out. You can’t help but grin at the fact that he doesn’t wear underwear, but you’re not sure what you expected.

His pants fall from his bony hips, revealing more scars on his legs. You admire him for a second, careful not to let him catch you. His hip bones and ribs jut out so severely from his sunken stomach that you can’t help but worry, though it’s none of your business. His skin, though pale, is quite beautiful, and surprisingly soft.

He kicks his shoes off and removes his socks as he steps out of his pant legs. “I hope this is okay,” He says, rubbing his arm nervously.

“You’re perfect,” You say with a smile. taking his hand and leading him to the bed, you begin to undress. Enki sits up against the headboard watching, though he looks away when you notice.

"You can look," you laugh. "You'll be doing more than that soon enough."

He blushes, turning his gaze back to you. His erection is absolutely throbbing now. "You should know," he says, "it's my first time."

"That’s okay," you smile. As you finish undressing, you crawl on the bed toward him.

You start on his shins, kissing each of his scars. "Is this okay?" You ask.

He nods. "Though you might be there for a while. I have a lot of them."

"I don't mind," you reply between kisses.

You're making your way up his thighs and he's starting to squirm. You playfully brush his cock with your face, and he grips the sheets with white knuckles. You're almost worried he's going to cum then and there. He doesn't, though he leaks a bit of precum.

You pay special attention to his hip bones that jut so far out as you move up to his torso. As you reach his chest, you give his nipples a lick and he moans sweetly.

Now you've made it up to his face. He turns away, but you bring his face back to you and give him a deep, passionate kiss. His rigid body slowly melts into yours, and eventually, he starts to kiss back. You can feel his excitement in the way he pushes back into you and writes under your touch.

You pull away and start to move down his body, again planting little kisses on his body as you move down.

As you reach his legs, he can barely contain himself anymore. Writhing, and squirming, and gripping the sheets, he looks like he's going to explode before you even touch him. His erection is so hard now that the skin is thin and shiny and that little bead of precum has grown slightly.

You look up at him as you lick his shaft starting from the bottom and moving up, licking up his precum. He tilts his head back, moaning. You could tease him like this all day, laying little kisses up and down his shaft as his throbbing cock twitches involuntarily; watching as he squirms and moans at each little brush of your lips.

Eventually, when you can't wait any longer, you wrap your lips around the head and he tenses up letting out a high-pitched whimper. You look up at him as you press downward and his breath catches. You start to move up and down, feeling his length fill your mouth.

You bring your head back up to focus on the head again. You twirl your tongue around the tip as he twitches and throbs. He’s making cute little whimpers and squeaks as he shudders beneath you. You shove your head back down and he moans loudly again.

He can hardly contain himself, thrusting his hips involuntarily and writhing as you drool down his shaft. Each time he twitches, it pushes his cock to the back of your throat which causes him to moan and squirm even more. By this point he's throbbing in your mouth. You're almost worried he's going to cum now, but he keeps it together.

If you keep going like this he won't last long though, so you pull away after a moment and crawl up to meet his face with yours. You cup a hand to his cheek and plant a kiss on his lips. His eyes are brighter than you’ve ever seen them. You squirt some lube into your hand and gently rub it on his erection. He shuts his eyes and trembles at your touch.

“Are you ready?” You ask.

He nods and you slowly ease down onto his cock. As he pushes into you, he moans softly. Nearly a whimper. You push down a little more until he fills you completely. For a moment you just sit there, arms wrapped around his neck, looking into each other’s eyes. Slowly, you start to move up and down, bouncing on his cock as he shuts his eyes and leans his head back.

He feels amazing inside you and he can tell from the noises you’re making. Though you’re not as loud as him, the two of you are so lost in pleasure that you’re practically screaming. If you were more aware you might wonder what the neighbors would think.

As you go, he starts to thrust his hips more and more, like some animalistic urge has overtaken him. He pushes into you harder with each thrust causing each of you to moan louder and higher. As if you can’t take it anymore, you grab his face in both hands and pull him into a deep, passionate kiss. He practically growls into your mouth as your tongues swirl around one another.

He pulls away and says “I’m going to come.”

"Come for me," you say, clasping his face. He thrusts a few more times, hard and slow, before you can feel his throbbing cock pulse inside of you, filling you with his hot cum. The sensation pushes you over the edge and you cum as he does; the both of you a trembling wreck, holding onto each other as you convulse.

You caress his cheek and look into his eyes. "That was nice," you say.

"Yeah," He says, sleep setting rapidly in.

You climb off of him as he slumps down until he's laying flat. You lay down next to him and put your arm over him. "Get some rest," you say, planting a little kiss on his cheek. He sighs contentedly and the two of you drift off.

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