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desperate-gay · 1 month

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You’re Not Sorry

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

A flute of champagne sits in your hand as your eyes drift down to the screen of your empty notifications. You let out a deep sigh and try to shove all of your negative feelings to the back of your head, seeing that your new art collection is going to be revealed to the museum.

Having worked on these paintings for over a year, you would think your girlfriend would finally make an effort to show up at one of your events, but just like the other times, she leaves you stranded. Just last night you had asked her repeatedly if she’d be able to accompany and support you for this massive milestone, and she assured you she wouldn’t miss it for the world. But to Alexia, the world is just another inconvenience.

There are several artists along with many investors, businessmen, and entrepreneurs roaming around the museum, waiting for the time your new projects are revealed. You stand alone in your skin-fitted maroon dress with the earrings Alexia bought for you on your first anniversary.

After waiting several more minutes, you realize your girlfriend isn’t showing up. It hurts you more than you’d like to admit, knowing you are constantly attending her games, red carpets, and photoshoots, but the times you want her to join you, she doesn’t even bother to send you a text.

Your co-worker waves you over to the podium where your covered artwork hangs behind it, signaling that it’s your time to speak. You quickly down the rest of the alcohol remaining in your glass before taking a few deep breaths and plastering a fake smile to enthuse everyone you’re about to speak to.

Once the night is over and you make it into your car, tears build up in your eyes as your lip trembles. You rest your head on your steering wheel while your body wracks in sops, letting out all of your pent-up anger and sadness at your girlfriend.

She has slowly been tearing down your self-esteem with every event and date she misses. It makes you think that maybe she doesn’t want to be with someone who isn’t a world-known athlete or someone who isn’t as beautiful as the movie stars she sees all the time. Alexia treats you like a trophy she puts in the back of her shelves, allowing it to collect all the dust for her.

The worst part is that your paintings are about her. About your journey throughout your guy’s relationship. You had spent countless hours working on all of them in your studio and never letting Alexia see them despite her protests which is the main reason you thought she’d show up.

Maybe she just pretended to be interested to keep you around longer. Several thoughts are running through your mind as you lift your head and look at yourself through the car mirror. Mascara smudges can be seen under your puffy eyes and your plump lips from the hard sobs.

You sniffle before wiping the tears off of your face and start the car. Your whole drive to your girlfriend’s house was filled with questions about what you’re going to do next. Deep inside you know you can’t continue being with someone who doesn’t support you like you support them, but you also know how in love you still are with her.

The lights inside the house can be seen on, showing you that Alexia is in fact home. Turning your car off, you sit back and realize what you’re about to do. You’re about to break up with the love of your life because you’re just not the love of hers.

The clicks of your heels on the hard pavement mock you for what’s going to come. The jingle of your keys alarms you in warning of what you’re about to lose. Then the bell of Nala’s collar reminds you that you won’t ever step foot in this place again.

“Amor? What are you doing here, I thought you had some, thing to be at?” Alexia asks from the couch, not even looking away from the game on the TV.

“Do you even remember what that thing was?”

Your jaw clenches in anger at the Catalan’s selfishness, realizing she didn’t even care enough to remember what she missed. Nala stays huddled near you, almost sensing your mood and trying to help out.

“Am I supposed to?” She yet again stays focused on the screen, meaning she doesn’t see how dressed up you are or how red your eyes look.

You laugh in disbelief which causes Alexia’s head to snap towards you. She can hear the malicious undertone of it, causing her eyebrows to furrow at your uncharacteristic behavior.

“You’re telling me you don’t even remember what tonight was? You knew it was something, but you didn’t bother remembering what?” You seethe, standing up straighter with your arms crossed over your chest.

You can practically see Alexia’s gears turning in her head, either trying to figure out what the event was or why you’re all of a sudden being cold towards her. When she sees that you have been crying, she quickly stands up and makes her way over to you, but when she tries to reach you, you step away before she can touch you.

“Amor, what’s wrong? Were you crying?”

“Like you care, Alexia.” You snap, turning around so you don’t have to face her, knowing that she’ll look like a kicked puppy.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Her tone becoming more aggravated by the second at your icy demeanor.

When you turn back around a few tears are lingering on your cheeks but you don’t seem to care. You want Alexia to own up to her actions after completely neglecting you for what feels like the hundredth time.

“It means that you can’t even remember your girlfriend’s opening night at the museum. You didn’t even care to text or anything. I thought that maybe you’d finally come with me to one of my work events, but I now see it’s too underclass for you to be seen there. To be seen with me.” The anger in your voice falters when it cracks from you trying everything not to cry in front of her at the moment.

Alexia remains silent with a look of despair on her face after coming to the realization of what today was. She knew that this was important to you and you had begged her several times to come and she didn’t need much convincing, but now she left you high and dry.

“Lo siento-”

“Don’t give me that sorry bullshit anymore, Alexia. I am tired of you apologizing and apologizing for not showing up but not making any effort to fix it. Sorry means nothing if you continue to do the things you’re sorry for.” You say, cutting off the ruse you have gotten too used to which makes the blonde look down at her hands.

Silence consumes the air between you two as you both stand across each other. You’re both only a few feet apart but it feels like you’re miles away from each other. There was once a time you two could be on separate continents but you’d still be just as close as if you two were in the same room. That time has been gone for quite a long time.

“Alexia-“

“Please stop calling me Alexia. I’m Ale or baby or anything else.” The Catalan pleads, looking up at you in desperation, knowing where this conversation is leading.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You whisper as it’s now your turn to look at your hands that pick at the other’s nails.

“What?”

You don’t think you have heard that much emotion in Alexia’s voice ever. She sounds like she was just told her whole family was murdered.

Alexia knows she hasn’t been the best girlfriend in a while, always standing you up on dates, continuously busy with football, and just ignoring your presence. She wasn’t even sure if she realized at the time that you were sleeping at your own place which is extremely rare ever since you’ve been with her. She just hasn’t realized how far it has pushed you.

“I’m breaking up with you, Alexia. I can’t be with someone who isn’t there for me like I am for them.” You state strongly, not wanting to lose your willpower from the girl showing you more attention than she has the past few days.

“No, no, no, no. I’m sorry, bebe. Please give me a chance to make this right, to show you how much you mean to me. Please don’t leave.” Alexia reaches and grasps your hand as tears run down her face. Now that it dawns on her that she may lose you, she tears down the floodgates.

“It’s too late.” You murmur, removing your hand from her tight hold as she continues to plead for you.

Your chest feels incredibly heavy realizing what you’re leaving behind right now. A home you thought you’d grow a family in with the person you wanted that family with.

“Don’t call me because I won’t answer. Goodbye, Ale.” You press a kiss to her cheeks before moving to the front door. With one final look at the blonde, you turn around and leave without a stop.

Some thoughts are meant to remain just thoughts.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #taylor swift #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso fic #woso

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anystalker707 · 4 months

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i need you

Pairing: Crocodile x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: It's been a while since Crocodile last saw his partner, and they don't seem to be very happy. Tags: light angst / comfort / he's very sweet ok

oneshot for @gojo-mochi 's dilfcember event

MASTERLIST

“There you are,” Crocodile exhaled, raising his eyebrows lightly without trying to hide his expression of tiredness. He’d been telling you to come to greet him properly ever since he got back home, eyes narrowing at your form by a doorway when he decided he was a little too tired to chase you around and waste energy in the way; he knew it from experience. He took a long drag from the cigar, letting the smoke burn his lungs before he slowly blew it out through his mouth—the room had wide windows, thankfully, quickly dispersing the smoke. It was a price to pay to be around him.

Despite the warmth in Crocodile’s eyes, you still stood there quietly for a moment with a discomfort twisting in your chest while something heaved under your eyes. It’d been quite a while since you’d seen him properly, counting the times he only showed up for a few minutes a day or late at night to leave early in the morning. He sat behind that massive desk with piles of paper stacked on it, which was a familiar sight you’d missed.

“Come on.” He patted his thigh, eyebrows furrowing a little as he nodded in encouragement, and maybe you’d ignored things for long enough now. He straightened his posture on the wide armchair once you sat on his thigh, humming in appreciation.

“That’s my good one.” His hand ran up and down your back a couple of times before it settled down around your waist.

There were a few wanted papers and documents with the Marine stamp before him on his desk, and Crocodile didn’t bother to close the folder because he didn’t have anything to hide from you. Either way, you weren’t interested in it either, running your eyes over the desk while he talked. He had just come back, and the desk was already full of stuff that demanded attention, which was supposed to be yours.

“Now, now,” Crocodile exhaled and reached over to the ashtray. The bright red sparkles of the cigar’s tip extinguished against the bottom of the ashtray, turning gray like the remaining in there and serving as a base for the now discarded cigar. “What’s gotten my doll feeling all blue?”

Rough fingertips pressed to your jaw in a light touch and turned your face toward him, allowing Crocodile to study your expression through half-lidded eyes; worry mixed with intrigue lingering in his gaze. His thumb ran across your cheek a couple of times, index finger under your chin to tilt your head up. Despite all of that, your eyes still focused on the painting that hung on the wall behind his chair.

“What can I do for you, hm?” Crocodile’s deep voice had a caring tone in it that always made you melt a little bit, even more so with those loving touches. It was quiet in the room—his office was wide but crumpled, with lavish carpets and curtains, while his regarded book collection also took great space, neatly organized on the shelves along with some items and photographs.

Your eyes finally met Crocodile’s, and despite the way your heart fluttered, the discomfort twisted inside your chest again, so your eyes immediately fell to the table once more. Something heaved inside you, compelling you to curl up in Crocodile’s lap.

A few theories of what bothered you swirled in Crocodile’s head, but he wasn’t sure what to believe, so he opted not to conclude anything for now. With a soft sigh, he opted to go for what he usually did, to comfort you. His fingers gently played with your hair before he started massaging your scalp gently, eventually rubbing the back of your neck soothingly. He was about to say something, but the words died in his throat the moment you started relaxing in his arms.

That’s it, Crocodile mentally said, wrapping an arm around your waist to hug you closer to him while he rubbed circles into your back, letting your head rest against his chest. He did it for what felt like hours, and nothing ever felt like too much if it meant it was for you. All it brought was the relief to see you melt into his arms and slowly let go of whatever bothered you.

“My love,” he whispered, cupping your face to hold your head closer to his chest as he pressed a kiss to the top of it, and what he received in response pleased him. Your hands gently gripped his pullover vest while you nuzzled into his chest.

Crocodile let the silence sink in for a moment, shoulders relaxing as he felt you comfortable in his arms until the soft sound of sniffling cut through the peaceful atmosphere. His lips pressed together in a frown as he caressed your hair a little longer before pulling away just enough to take a look at your face.

“My love, what’s wrong?” The back of Crocodile’s fingers ran along your cheeks to catch your tears, but they were soon dismissed when you pressed your face to his chest instead, wetting the soft yarn of his top with your tears, but he couldn’t even bring himself into worrying about that. “Dearest,” he exhaled softly, voice laced with frustration as his hand tightened around your waist as if to anchor you to him because it was everything he could do, silent with his thoughts as he offered you what he could for now.

Crocodile’s eyes fixed on the papers on the desk without really paying attention to them, just choosing them as a spot to rest his eyes on while he tried to sort out his thoughts, which wasn’t easy. All the stress from the past weeks clouded his thoughts in a way only you could help him go back to a peaceful state of mind, but for now, he fought through the sharp headache that attacked his temples to focus on you. You were more important, after all. What would be of him without you?

Something brought Crocodile back to reality, but your cries were too incoherent to be comprehensible. He blinked a couple of times and looked down at you, relaxing his brow and his jaw. “Yes, my love? Can you repeat that for me?”

“...you, hm? Where were you?” You sniffled a little bit, gulping. “Did you get tired of me? Did I do something wrong? Why would you—” Cut off by a sob, you just gave up on talking and let out a groan of frustration instead.

Now, it started making more sense. A soft breath escaped Crocodile’s nose as the realization slowly set in, and he brought a hand up to his face, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose and then ran his fingers along his eyebrows before his hand lowered to your cheek to tilt your head up. The sight of your teary eyes made his heart ache and guilt heave over his shoulders.

“Oh, dearest,” he breathed, shaking his head lightly. “I’m deeply sorry, you know how things can run out of control, and you also know that my love for you is never-ending. I would never think about leaving.” He adjusted you on his lap to kiss your forehead while wiping your tears away once more. “I long for you, but I also can’t involve you in problems either. I rather solve them first and then come back to m—”

“So what?” You sniffled, looking at him in the eyes. “So I have to suffer because you’re away? Sit and wait and…” You kept ranting, and Crocodile knew you didn’t mean it, he knew what spilled from your mouth resulted from the desperation of going so many days without him, from the hurt of the way your feelings and thoughts twisted during his absence, and he wished he’d been there before to comfort you before this mess had been created.

“I’m sorry, dearest,” Crocodile said softly, and he would try to talk and argue if you weren’t so caught up in emotions, so he just kissed your tears away, holding you close until the crying babbling turned into soft sobs, and you relaxed in his arms again.

There wasn’t a lot Crocodile could decipher in your muttering, but he could make out the whiny ‘I need you’ whispered next to his ear when your arms wrapped tightly around his neck. You clung to him tightly, making his emotions waver in ways he wished they wouldn’t, but he accepted the vulnerability you caused him. Loving someone had a price, and he wasn’t afraid of paying it if it meant having you.

“I’m here,” Crocodile whispered as he gently ran his hand up and down your back until your back wasn’t shuddering with sobs anymore. “That’s it, dearest,” he whispered as his fingers massaged the back of your neck. “I’m here for you now, and I won’t be leaving soon.”

“I don’t want you to ever leave,” your weak whimpers were muffled against his shoulder, and Crocodile sighed.

“We can talk about it later,” he breathed, knowing it was better to discuss it when both of you had your emotions in order rather than make empty promises for a momentary peace. “Come on,” he said as he shifted a little to hold you in his arms properly so that he could stand up, breath hitching a little as he kept you against his chest on his way out of the office. His paperwork wasn’t as important as you were. “Let’s relax for now, how about that? Have you eaten anything today?”

Your arms were still loosely wrapped around Crocodile’s neck, one of them looser so that you could bury your face into the crook of it, inhaling his scent to calm yourself down. Hesitantly, you shook your head, taking in a deep breath to brace yourself for the inevitable disappointment that would come from him. Your stomach churned again just at the thought of food, but maybe things would be fine now.

There, however, was no disappointment in Crocodile’s hum as he changed his route to the kitchen. “Then we must eat first. We can also take a shower, then go to sleep. How about that, hm? Will that help my sweetheart?”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you nodded with a weak hum, sighing as you closed your eyes and let the tension go of your muscles.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

#one piece #crocodile #x reader #x male reader #x female reader #gender neutral #crocodile x reader #crocodile x male reader #one piece x reader #imagine #oneshot #fan fic #fan fiction

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reidsdaisies · 6 months

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Heyyy!!!! Could you please write a blurb, drabble or headcanon about Spencer wanting to be a househusband or how would he be as such??!? I’ve been watching The way of the househusband anime lately and it sparked the idea. I love your writing and have a great day 💕💕💕

𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝!𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬!

༉‧´ˎ˗ pairing; househusband spencer reid x gn bau!reader

༉‧´ˎ˗ a/n; you literally read my mind!! I’ve been wanting to do something about househusband spencer ever since i did spencer x housewife reader! and i had way too much fun on pinterest looking for inspo pics 😭💞 here’s a board i lowk love, I think it’s just adorable if anyone wants to know what I’m picturing — ׂׂૢ

𝐂𝐌 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 || 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— i know i said he’s a terrible cook before, but in this universe i think he would have spent a lot of time learning how to cook and bake so he could cook you homemade meals and delicious sweet treats to show his appreciation for how hard you work to put a roof over the two of your heads

— he wears cute ass girly or flowery aprons when cooking and adorable oven mitts, fight me

— he has an unhealthy attachment to his kitchen aid mixer, will talk about how much he loves that thing. you’re concerned.

— excellent and very precise with cleaning 👌 scrubs at the bathroom sink till you can practically see your reflection in it and dusts every damn crevice of your house

— very passionate about the projects he gets into. like if he decides he wants a garden, omg he will commit. he’d probably want a house with a big backyard with enough space to build one of those cute vegetable gardens in the back yard and grow you two’s own food. and he would plant big apple and pear trees, would take pride in how great the fruit is and when everything is finally ready to be picked, he’ll make you bring it to work for the team

— AND omg a greenhouse would be his dream to have. everyone knows about his big ass brain and he definitely has extensive knowledge on all different types of plants, exactly what conditions they need to thrive

— along with that, i know he’d be really into lawn-scaping, you two have the best lawn EVER, and im not exaggerating. the back and the front of the house— absolutely beautiful. he picks out the prettiest flowers and makes sure the soil is rich, and ofc trims the bushes to perfection. he’d look so cute with gardening gloves, these or these specifically, and his massive ass, muddy ass gardening boots that are a size too big but he’s oddly attached to them.

— other hobbies he’s picked up include scrapbooking, drawing, painting, and of course knitting & crocheting.

— in one episode, he told Penelope he spent weeks knitting a scarf for his cosplay, and so now I’ve been constantly thinking about the other things he’d knit & crochet for him and his partner. scarfs, mittens, winter hats, sweaters, pot holders, anything he can make, he will make even just to try it out once.

— the pot holders would have cute animals on them or flowers. floral everything. he loves all plants, specifically flowers.

— now that you two own a house together, there’s so much opportunity for him. he’s got his own office AND most importantly, it’s massive and doubles as his own personal library. it’s walls are lined with multiple of the tallest, most spacious bookcases you could find for him, still just barely being able to fit his ever growing book collection on their shelves.

— he’s a house husband, he probably doesn’t have time for the FBI. im not sure if he would be fully a stay at home husband because that would bore him and many people need the help of his big brain so I think he’d spend a lot of time in his office, researching and writing articles probably most having to do with finding a cure for schizophrenia.

— if he were to also be a professor while married to you, i don’t think that would happen unless you’re imaging later seasons reid, but personally I’m imagining seasons 6-11 (minus season 8 with the maeve story arc) for this.

— i could maybe see Penelope and him owning a buisness/website together for both their crafts, of course Penelope would run the website and handle all the technical things.

— you and spencer have Penelope over on weekends and off days to chit chat while knitting or painting mugs or canvases. sometimes you’ll invite JJ, Emily, and Derek over but Emily and Derek would drag you away to the kitchen to get wine-drunk and gossip while JJ would be decorating the frames of her kids pictures and copying silly mug designs she found on Pinterest for Will.

— whenever you’re not on a case, and you’re friends aren’t available or you two aren’t feeling ver social, that’s when you finally get to be the sweet, lovey-dovey married couple you two are at heart

— for fun, you guys always bake brownies, cookies, cupcakes, and what not together, that ofc, he insists you take into work to show off his beautiful decorating skills. they’re not that beautiful but you still like to tell him they are to boost his ego and make jokes about how he should work at a bakery. a bakery would never hire him.

— you’ve given him the nickname of ‘cuddle bug’. why? because he’s such a gosh darn cuddle bug. will curl up to your side for hours while you finish any necessary paperwork and you two talk about the most recent case you worked while he’s mindlessly drawing little butterflies and hearts on your back

— after particularly rough cases, he runs you two a bubble bath to just soak in and spend some much needed and well deserved alone time together

— mentioned this in my housewife head canons, but you two would take turns giving each other back, shoulder, foot, or really anywhere needed massages. he’s all fancy with it, bringing out coconut oil and shi but you just let him do his thing, you’re getting a free massage, no need to complain about that

༉‧´ˎ˗ bonus; you two have movie nights every friday where you lounge in the living room eating nachos and watching tv. surprise, he always weasels his way into getting to pick what you watch. even bigger ‘surprise’, it’s always Star Trek or some scientific documentary.

anyways, that’s all i can think of for now, but if anyone has anything they want to add, please talk to me about house husband spencer through my inbox !! i will do anything to feminize this beautiful man

#reidsdaisies #reidsdaisies spencer <3 #spencer reid #house husband spencer reid #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x male reader #househusband spencer reid x gn!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fandom

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flowersandbigteeth · 10 months

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Your werebear mate takes you camping

I've gotten a whole bunch of requests for a sweet moment with Hugo, so this is filling a bunch of them ^_^' This is a lot gentler and fluffier than the other ones, per request :)

General Plot: Hugo wants to teach you some camping skills, so you go on a hike!

Hugo (Werebear) x Female reader

Word Count: 2.5k

W: sweet, fluffy smut, vaginal sex, outdoor sex

NSFW Masterpost <-- previous parts

“Why are we doing this again?” you griped as you smacked another mosquito off of your neck. You paused your march to spray yourself down with more bug spray.

The trees rose up around you, tall and old deep in the forest you were hiking through. Ahead of you Hugo cleared a path through the brush with his wide body, bending whatever saplings he encountered out of the way.

“So that you can learn some survival skills,” he said cheerfully.

He loved hiking and the great outdoors. It was one of his favorite hobbies. Usually he went by himself or with another bear from his pack, but this time he’d insisted you tag along.

“You’d be totally helpless if you were lost in the wilderness. I’m going to teach you some things,” he went on.

Something rustled in the brush and you skipped a bit to catch up to him and buried your hand in his fur.

“When am I going to be lost in the wilderness?” you asked, “you gonna abandon me here?”

A deep chuckle erupted from his lips as he snapped another sapling.

“Of course not honey cake,” he said, “but you never know when you’ll need to know how to start a fire or set a trap. What if your plane went down in the forest and you had to survive until rescue came?”

You let out a deep sigh, sure that would never happen.

“Are we even allowed to be here?” you asked.

You’d strayed from the trail long ago and now Hugo was leading you deep into the woods. Your pant legs were already shredded from brambles and the mosquitos were terrible.

“Who knows?” he said, shrugging his massive shoulders, “but I have someplace special to show you.”

“Is it much further?” you whined.

“Not much,” he offered vaguely.

While you dragged one foot in front of the other, you daydreamed about being in a nice air conditioned coffee shop with a large iced latte in your hand.

“My legs are tired,” you pouted to Hugo, “if we don’t stop soon, I’m going to drop dead right where I’m standing.”

You heard him laugh, before he turned to you and scooped you up in his arms.

“I should make you walk,” he grumbled, “in a real life situation I won’t be here to carry you.”

Giggling up at him you snuggled deeper into his arms, rubbing your face against his furry chest.

“Good thing we’re not in a real life situation. I’d have already given up and would be eaten by wolves,” you said.

You felt his chest rumble as he chuckled.

“I bet you’d be delicious,” he said, pinching your bottom with the hand holding you up, “they would tell their pups stories about your tender flesh and lament that they couldn’t have it again.”

You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes.

“Sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this,” you said, giving him a flat laugh.

“Don’t worry,” he snickered, “if anything is going to eat you it will be me.”

You patted him on his furry chest and giggled, your cheeks warming a bit. Somewhere in the distance you heard rushing water, getting louder each step Hugo took closer to it.

Finally, the trees thinned and you peaked out of Hugo’s big arms to see a beautiful waterfall. Water rushed over the many large rocks that appeared to have tumbled out of the mountain creating shelves as the water worked its way down.

“This is beautiful, Hugo,” you gasped, taking in the lovely green foliage that crowded the fall. At the base a clear pool filled with fat fish and multicolored river rock collected ice cold water from the mountain top.

He set you down on a rock overlooking the peaceful scene, taking the pack off of your back and started setting things up. You’d brought plenty of supplies, since Hugo could carry a lot on his back. The only thing missing was a tent, as he informed you that it would be much better to sleep underneath the stars. With him around you didn’t have to worry about predators sneaking up on you in the dark.

When he’d organized your little camp, he started a fire. You watched him step out of the old pair of jeans he was wearing and gasped. His body never ceased to excite you. Even covered in fur, you could make out the planes of his impeccable muscles, flexing as he kicked off his pants. You swallowed a sip of water from your bottle, taking in the thick cock nestled between his thighs. It took you a moment to even question why he was undressing.

“Wh-what are you doing?” you stammered and he shot you a predatory flash of fang.

“I’m going to catch us some dinner,” he explained, turning away from you and wading into the water.

The sun was already getting low in the sky, the rocky mountainside casting long shadows over your camp. You had no idea how Hugo could see, but apparently his vision was much better than yours. Curious about his technique you watched him standing stock still in the rushing water, his sharp eyes cast down. It was a testament to his size that the water just moved around him. It would have knocked you off of your feet in a second, but Hugo stood like a statue. Then he was a blur, striking the water with his large hands. A second later he tossed a thick fish next to you on the ground.

You jumped, surprised and hurried to capture the fish before it flopped back in the water. Comically grasping the fish as it thrashed in your hands, all you could think to do was walk a few steps away from the water’s edge and shove it in the pot you’d brought to cook with and stick the top on.

Not sure what to do with the first fish, you certainly weren’t sure what to do with the three more Hugo tossed at you. When he finally got out of the water, he shook it out of his fur like a dog. He shot you a big smile as you tried to wrestle the other fish that were gasping for air.

“Come here,” he said, taking one of the fish from you and scooping up the other two, “I’ll show you how to dress them.

After that gross lesson, he put the cleaned fish on sticks, propping them over the fire.

You sat down next to Hugo, cuddling into his warmth as the temperature dropped. The sun was already behind the mountain and the sky was turning a rich bluey-purple.

“It’s official,” you said, “I’m never going into nature without you. I would never be able to gut those guys by myself.”

He chortled, putting an arm around you. The campsite was filled with the delicious smell of roasting fish and your stomach grumbled with anticipation. When they were done, Hugo carefully extracted yours and sliced it up so you could eat it easily. He chewed on his right off of the stick. By that time the stars were popping out one by one in the inky sky. Out this far there was no light pollution so your mouth hung open as you took it all in.

“There’s so many!” you chirped, as you leaned back into Hugo’s fur to observe them. “It’s beautiful.”

He chuckled behind you, his belly full.

“See? Camping’s not so bad, is it?” he asked into your ear.

You felt his soft, fluffy fur brushing your neck and a shiver rolled over your body. Pursing your lips you gave him a fake pout.

“Like I said,” you sulked, “I’m only coming out here with you. I couldn’t do any of this on my own.”

He wrapped his big arms around you and squeezed you tight.

“No one else better be taking you on camping trips,” he said, “or they are going to have to fight off a very angry bear.”

You rubbed your cheek into his furry chest and yawned, tired after the long walk.

“Let’s get you tucked in,” he murmured.

He rolled out two sleeping bags and you pouted.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, reading the disappointment on your face.

“Nothing,” you snapped.

His eyebrow rose as you fussily got into your sleeping bag and huffed, turning away from him. You were being a little childish because you were kind of cranky after the long hike.

“It’s cold,” you pouted.

You heard Hugo let out a rumbling laugh and drew your brows, annoyed that he found it funny.

“Come here honey cake,” he said, extracting you from your sleeping bag like you weighed little more than a doll and pulled you into his.

“Did you want to sleep next to me?” he asked.

You felt silly, so you just nodded into his chest, snuggling into his warmth. He laughed again, stroking your hair.

“I should have guessed,” he whispered, “look up.”

You weren’t sure what you were supposed to be looking at, getting comfy next to your mate, but when you did your eyes popped. The sky was streaked with shooting stars.

“I chose tonight because there is a meteor shower,” he said, his thick fingers brushing the hairs crowding your face out of the way.

“This…this is amazing Hugo,” you gasped, unable to tear your eyes away.

Hugo watched for a moment with you before his interests turned elsewhere. The pads of his fingers traced your neck and then across your shoulder blades. Instinctively, you cast your gaze on him, but he nudged your chin back up.

“Don’t look at me,” he purred, “keep watching.”

Your body was tingling with anticipation as he pushed your shirt up and tugged your bra down to get access to your breasts. His big warm hands cupped them and you could feel the delicious prick of his claws on your skin. You tried your best to keep your eyes on the many streaks of color lighting up the sky, but your eyelashes fluttered with pleasure.

A low moan left your lips as his warm mouth closed over your nipple, circling it with his tongue. His touch was so familiar and comforting. You never wanted another person to touch you the way and the places he did. He possessed your body and you eagerly accepted his attention.

“Hugo!” you gasped, arching your back so that he had better access to you.

His fingers tugged at the other nipple, making you mewl out loud. Your panties were already soaked, feeling sticky against your skin.

“Please, Hugo. More,” you managed to mutter and you felt his body, tucked so close in the sleeping bag, rumble with delight.

His thick fingers unzipped your pants with surprising dexterity and slid them off you, leaving only your wet panties. A thumb traced your slit, stopping at your clit to stroke languid circles. You gasped and keened, pressing your mound into his fingertips.

With a tearing sound, you realized his claws had sliced right through the chaste cotton panties you were wearing, leaving you bare for his fingers to explore. He dipped a thick digit inside of you, collecting some of your wetness before he circled your needy bundle of nerves with it.

His mouth found yours, his thick tongue snaking out to taste you. Your peaked nipples brushed the soft fur on his chest, the sensation decadent and luxurious. He was so big looming over you, carefully holding himself up so he didn’t crush you. You adored the way he was incredibly strong but could be so delicate with you.

You reached out to find his cock, thick and firm, dripping a steady stream of precum. Feeling his need made your insides melt to mush. Your mate wanted you and only you. He hissed in pleasure as you rolled your palm over the wide head, then down his shaft.

You both moaned and grunted in pleasure as you handled one another. His cock was hot and throbbing in your hand, while he pinched and rubbed your clit faster and harder every second you touched him. He wound the thread of pleasure tighter and tighter until the stars were imprinted on the back of your eyelids. You screamed his name as he pushed you over the edge, bucking your hips into his big hand.

“Who do you belong to, honey cake?” he muttered, “tell me who makes you feel good.”

“You Hugo,” you gasped, hardly able to let out the words.

You heard his approving growl before he pulled you on top of him, letting the sleeping bag fall back so your breasts were exposed to the night air. It was cool, but his big hands roaming over you were so hot, you hardly noticed it.

“Take what you want, (Y/N),” he groaned, “I want to see you come apart on top of me.”

You let out a little squeal, lowering your hips onto his thick cock. You always had to take it carefully, he filled and stretched you completely. It took you a minute to slowly descend so that your hips were flush. He let out a rumbling roar when you were fully seated.

His eyes on you were glittering in the firelight as he took you in.

“My mate,” he rumbled, “You’re so beautiful. Prettier than a sky full of stars.”

His words propelled you forward and you bounced on his stiff shaft, pushing yourself higher and higher, towards your end. He cupped your breasts, kneading them and plucking your nipples until your head was thrown back, muttering curses to the silent mountain.

It was good there was no one around to hear all of the loud, lusty noises you were making. As your pace got erratic, so close to cumming, Hugo took over. His hands gripped your hips, the tips of his claws pricking your skin as he thrust up into you. He took you hard, the sound of your ass slapping his thighs echoed around you.

“Touch yourself for me,” he growled and you couldn’t deny him, parting your folds with your much smaller fingers and hazily circling your clit.

Your other hand clutched your bouncing breast, teasing the nipple. All the while Hugo’s hungry gaze ate you up. The way he looked at you, full of sensual longing made you feel like a goddess. You knew he adored every part of you. Every bit of cellulite and every little scar his eyes met with a ferocious greed.

Not able to hold back any longer, you erupted, hot pleasure washing over your body in thick ripples. He snapped his cock into you once, twice, then on the third time you felt a wave of searing cum fill you as he roared his release. You fell forward, spent, your nose buried in his neck. He stroked your back gently, not ready to pull out of you yet. He pulled the sleeping bag up around you so your skin, damp from sweat, wouldn't make you cold.

“I love you little honey cake,” he hummed, his voice thick and low.

“I love you,” you breathed into his neck.

You let him cuddle and stroke you until you drifted off to sleep with him still inside of you.

#werebear #werebear x human #werebear x reader #x reader #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster smut #yandere smut #yandere male #yandere x reader #smut #monster lover #hugo

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halfmoth-halfman · 7 months

Text

karma is a cat purring in my lap

Pairing: Mob Boss!Price x F!Reader Word Count: 1.3k Warnings: very minor spoilers for designer dress, mention of animal death, a cat with a vendetta Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters. A/N: oop the cat drabble got a little longer than i expected but oh well i had fun with it

The cat is a wretched creature made of a vicious hatred that could rival only the Devil himself.

A spiteful little thing so eager to sink its fangs into every inch of flesh it sees, and Price has to wonder how Roach got it into the manor in the first place.

They try to lure it out from the corner it’s tucked itself into, try to coax it from where it lounges just atop one of the massive bookshelves, but every attempt is met with hisses and swipes of those streets-sharpened claws. When the cat decides it’s finally had enough, it resorts to slinking across the higher shelves and knocking off the thickest books it can find. The heavy tomes land with a loud thud every time until one falls onto Soap’s face and blood bursts from his nose.

They let it be after that, resigned to allowing it to nest atop that bookshelf where it watches them almost smugly.

Rudy tries to tempt it away at the end of the day, shaking a bowl of freshly filleted fish and ground meats in the cat’s direction. The cat watches him, tail swishing back and forth against the spines of the books it’s perched upon, but it never moves.

Rudy gives up after half an hour, leaving the bowl behind in a frustrated and defeated huff.

Roach checks on it the next morning to find the bowl empty, curiously looking around the room for any sign of their tiny intruder. It isn’t long until he spots the meat-smeared paw-prints trailing into the kitchen, and when he follows them—

—Roach has never seen such a mess, bits of food smeared across the table, the chairs, even the windows. It’ll take forever to clean properly, and Roach wonders if the cat actually ate any of the food before it turned the dining room into a meat-based Jackson Pollock painting.

A small chirp catches his ear, and he turns to find the cat sitting in the doorway, head tilted, paws licked clean, and whiskers twitching. It chirps again, almost like it’s…laughing at him? Surely it couldn’t—

Roach takes a step forward and the cat turns to run with lightning speed, taking its place back atop its books.

From there, the cat’s behavior only worsens.

It only acts at night when everyone is asleep, picking its targets at random; a suspicious display of intelligence that sets the house on edge.

Ghost is its first victim, waking up early in the morning to find his bedroom door cracked open and his collection of masks lying in shreds on the floor. He storms through the manor searching for the culprit in a blazing fury only to find the cat lying in front of the fireplace in Price’s office on a bed of shredded cloth. The cat darts away the moment Ghost catches it, evading him with surprising nimbleness to disappear into the manor.

Alex is a repeat target, much to his frustration. It’s following him, he thinks, but every time he checks his surroundings there’s no sign of it. Yet it somehow always manages to appear whenever Alex decides to eat, knocking something over to distract the man only to take a swipe at his plate the moment Alex looks away. Alex cleans five meals from the dining room rug before he goes to Price.

The cat never stops in its journey of torment. It chews König’s socks and boots until they’re deformed and soggy, sneaks into Price’s closet to tear at his clothes, steals Valeria’s jewelry to hide it in the houseplants, and screams at the top of its little lungs outside Alejandro’s room at random hours in the night.

They have to do something, but they can’t get the cat to leave. It outsmarts them at every turn, disappearing into crevices of the manor they never knew were there.

Price doesn’t care how it’s handled, whether they choose to let the cat live or get rid of it another way. He gives his people free rein to deal with it how they see fit with only one exception: keep the cat away from Canary.

Their relationship is so precarious already, and he wants her only focus to be on recovering. The last thing she needs is this tiny demon to ruin her clothes or destroy her meals.

The next day is spent with a manhunt for the cat.

They search every corner of the manor, leaving no stone unturned and no room unchecked. Every inch of the manor grounds is scoured in search of the hellion, but the cat seems to have disappeared. There’s a small murmur of disappointment, but mostly relief as they conclude that the cat must’ve finally tired of them and run off.

Price finally relaxes the tension from his shoulders, weaving through the manor halls to check on Canary.

He’s never been a cat person, and this kind of nonsense is exactly why. If he’d had his way they would’ve taken that damned cat and–

“Are you warm enough?” Canary’s soft voice drifts out of her room, a light, happy tone that Price hasn’t heard from her in so long.

Her door is slightly open, and Price inches toward the gap to peer inside. He’s careful not to make too much noise and startle her, not wanting to disturb her in any way. Not if she’s having a good day.

He’ll just check on her, and then he’ll leave.

“Oh, what a big stretch!” Canary coos.

Price nearly trips in his steps, catching himself at the last minute.

Who is she talking to–

Oh.

When he peeks inside, he spots Canary in bed, lying on her side to face the door. She’d see him easily if she were to look up, but she’s too preoccupied with the cat sprawled on its back in front of her. Legs in the air, it bats softly at her wiggling fingers as she pokes and rubs its belly.

The cat rolls onto its stomach, lazily crawling up the bed until it reaches Canary’s face and gives her a gentle lick on the nose.

Canary laughs softly, and it’s the best thing Price has heard in months. He’s craved that sound for so long, begging every higher power for her to find something to bring her joy again.

Canary shifts to lay on her back, the cat immediately curling up on her chest and nestling its head under her chin. She softly strokes along its head, a gentle smile gracing her face.

Price lets out a small, contented hum just quiet enough for Canary not to hear, but the cat’s ears twitch. Those wide, watchful eyes snap open, staring straight into his soul.

He’s never seen a cat glare before, but he’s certain he has now. It looks downright threatening, daring him to come closer and disturb their little sanctuary.

He understands now. This isn’t some random stray that decided to make the manor their home. This is the answer to his late-night prayers, his pleas for Canary to be happy once again. She’s been handed a new friend, a creature to give her the affection and comfort she so desperately needs, but they have been delivered a harbinger of retribution. Canary is too healed to try and give them the karma they deserve, but this cat has proudly taken up the job for her.

Somewhere in the world, a finger's just curled down into the palm of a monkey's paw.

Canary shifts, a small wince as she moves her head too quickly and the bandages catch.

The cat purrs loudly, nuzzling as far into her as it can, and Canary’s wince slowly turns to that stunning smile Price has missed so much.

Price has never been a cat person, and will probably never settle with the future havoc this cat is sure to wreak, but if that possessed creature is able to bring Canary even a small amount of solace?

He’s willing to try.

#captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price #price #modern warfare #modern warfare 2 #mw fics #moth writes

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

Text

A Fresh Start [14]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety over appearance, past medical trauma, sexual tension, like so much sexual tension, some heavy petting, slow burn (i use it as a warning here b/c it’s gonna feel like an attack by time you’re through with this chapter lol)

Word Count: 4,682

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

Ch. #14: AM I MAKING YOU QUIVER?

Chapter Summary: Exploration and Anticipation

“i must have loved you in other lives because when i see you it feels like coming home. no one makes me feel more myself than you. when my hand is in yours it’s familiar and safe, like i’ve known your soul since the beginning of time, through all the lives i’ve lived. maybe that’s why my love for you is infinite.” --m.m.

This was the first time you woke up beside Din. Up until now, every moment that involved him taking you to bed or falling asleep on him ended with you waking up alone. Alone or with Grogu. Din always seemed to be up before you. There was absolutely nothing comfortable about the cot you were laying on. At baseline it was hard and covered with crinkling, thin sterile paper. It was also only large enough for one person. Which, granted, with Grogu alone on it the cot had looked massive, but now it held Din, Grogu, and you. You were startled that you hadn’t woken up on the floor.

You had Din to thank for that. He laid on his back, armor and helmet present, with Grogu sleeping soundly on his chest. You laid half on his side, curled around him, but he had one arm under you and resting on your waist clinging to you tightly. Saving you from sleeping on the hard, tile floor wasn’t the only thing you had to thank him for.

Last night had been… difficult. Nothing short of the Maker himself was going to stop you from doing everything in your power to heal Grogu, and even then the Maker might not be able to hold you back, but the cost had been steep. The moment your body registered that Grogu was safe, vitals steady and father in the room, you had crumpled in on yourself like a dying star. Every single demon that called your mind home crawled out of the wood works to plague you.

Surely, you thought, they’d devour you whole and leave you an empty shell. Yet, here you were. Still alive, still functioning, and⏤ dank farrik⏤ you were content. Content, borderline happy. An emotion you thought would be impossible after the events of last night. You felt safe. Lying here, watching Din and Grogu sleep peacefully, Din’s arm clinging to you, you felt like there wasn’t a force in this galaxy that could touch you. Over the last year, a lot of people promised that you’d be protected. Many swore that nothing would hurt you.

Din was the only one you believed.

Despite wanting to stay in this moment forever, you knew you needed to rise. There were things you needed to collect and, though you had revealed a lot of who you were last night, it’d be nice to not have an audience. Carefully, you untangled yourself from Din’s arm. He stirred for a moment, but you whispered a reassurance. It was a testament to how exhausted the Mandalorian was as he laid his head back and dozed off once more.

As you stood, that’s when the aches began to settle from the night you had. The cot, and technically Din’s armored body, had not been forgiving to your skin, bones, or joints. You stretched as you walked over to the medical shelves. You wanted to make another two doses of the antipyretic, just to have on hand, and an additional dose of antibiotics for Grogu to take. It was overkill, technically, but you didn’t care. It was also mildly illegal for you to take some of these supplies home, but who was going to stop you? Daelar? That coward was off world so he had no say over this clinic, and you had a pretty solid relationship with the Marshal. Enough so that you doubted he’d be arresting you for this.

Quietly, you worked with practiced ease compounding the medications. Without the added stress of a ticking time bomb in feverish child form, you were able to find the action calming. That is until a figure settled next you. Her presence startled you at first, but you recognized the girl you held at gunpoint only hours ago.

“Oh, Aayla, hey.” You greeted in a whisper, to not disturb Din, “I’m sorry about last night. With the blaster and the⏤”

“No, no. Don’t apologize.” Aayla replied. “You were incredible. This is incredible.” She motioned to the medicine you were half done compounding. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“Wait, what?”

“I came here to gain experience before I apply to medical school, and I was so disappointed with what I found.” She said. The girl was practically bouncing in place. “But now I have you! Oh, I am so excited to work with you!”

Your fingers froze and you slowly shook your head. “No. No, no, no, no. I’m not⏤ We’re not⏤”

Aayla tilted her head in confusion. “You’re gonna be the new on site physician, aren't you?”

Maker, in your panic last night had you just told everyone you were a doctor before? You shook your head. You needed to get this done. The sound of Din stirring made you glance over your shoulder toward him. You hummed, “Aayla, can you take out Grogu’s IV? Have you done that before?”

“I have!” She rushed away and you took that as a victory.

Din sat up on the cot at her approach, Grogu still cradled in his arms, and you sighed in relief once more. Grogu still hadn’t woken up, but that didn’t surprise you. You had made both medications last night with a sedative effect. The poor kid needed as much rest as possible. All thoughts were interrupted when Din’s t-shaped visor lifted from Grogu to focus on you. You physically felt his eyes on you and a thrill ran down your spine all the way to your toes. You quickly turned back around and went back to work. You were nearly done with the last one. Would’ve been finished by now if Aayla hadn’t caught you off guard.

As if the universe knew you were trying to stay focused on task and wanted to distract you, an all too familiar form silently approached. Din towered over you, quite the sight in all his beskar, and though his presence hadn’t surprised you the way he curled around you did. Din rested one hand on the counter, his other wrapped around your waist, and he leaned into you so the side of his helmet was pressed against the side of your face. The man might as well have set you on fire with the flamethrower connected to his vambrace. Heat warmed your cheeks and flooded into every nook and cranny of your body.

This was hardly the first time he had broken the barrier to touch you, but this was the first time it wasn’t spurred on by some emotional turmoil. You hadn’t expected him to be so casual. To openly touch you in this way.

“Hi.” You mumbled, unsure of what else to say.

A low, rumbling chuckle spilled out from the helmet’s modulator and the sound made your breath catch in your throat. Din squeezed your waist. “Hi.” He nodded his head down toward your hands. “What are you doing?”

“I, uh, I’m…” Habit told you to lie. You were supposed to keep this a secret. Nobody was supposed to know about your past. Your logic argued that it was a little late for that and telling Din you were ‘making mixed drinks with the medical supplies’ wasn’t going to convince him of anything. “Medicine.” You blurted. Mentally, you cursed your lack of allure and tact. Maker, why did Din make you babble like an idiot? For once, could you just be cool? Give off an air of mystery and intrigue like he was able to? Kriff. “Uh, medicine for Grogu. Just in case.”

“Good.” He replied. “Smart.”

“What can I say? I have my moments sometimes.”

Din hummed out a sound of amusement, but before you could commend yourself for saying something marginally clever and well thought out, you felt his gloved fingers brush just under the hem of your shirt. The leather warm and firm on the bare skin of your abdomen, and your entire brain short circuited at the motion.

“You almost ready to go home, ner kar’ta?” He whispered.

Voice broken, you nodded dumbly. Din chuckled once more before pulling back and walking back to the cot. Maker. Oh, Maker. You glanced over your shoulder to watch him saunter away. He didn’t do it on purpose, he didn’t seem to know what his gait did to the people around him, but you could watch Din walk for hours. It was such a casual and strong pace⏤ confidence oozing from every step.

For weeks now, you had been fighting an emotional connection to this man. You were terrified of messing up the good thing you had. It couldn’t be argued that the ship of staying distant had sailed. The wall between the two of you, emotionally speaking, was a pile of dust now. The physical thoughts? Those had always been easy to swat away. You forced yourself to not let your mind wander on his hip to shoulder ratio. To not think about the sliver of flesh you’d see at home between the waistband of his sweatpants and the hem of his shirt. To not think about his strong arms and the way they would feel wrapped around you.

You had been so good about it. Up until now, that is.

Now? Dank farrik, you wanted to jump his bones.

Maybe it was the excess adrenaline from everything that happened last night, or maybe it was you being too weak to hold back those primal thoughts, but regardless of the reason the desire was there in full force. Your eyes traced him from boots to helmet once more. He was standing by the cot watching Aayla work with his hands on his hips and his head faced down in a studious manner. Oof. A man covered head to toe in metal and the woven material of a flight suit should not look this good. The man didn’t have a single patch of skin showing, yet you were foaming at the mouth feral for him.

As if reading your wanton thoughts, Din’s gaze snapped to you. Your eyes widened. Though you couldn’t see where his eyes were trained, you still flushed as if he were raking over your form, and when his head tilted to the side it felt like your heart seized in your chest. Double oof. You whipped your head back around, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, and tried to get back to the task at hand. Focus, focus, focus.

Medicine for Grogu first, eye fucking his father second.

They had slept in the clinic far longer than Din had thought. The quick trip back home was made in early morning light and the city was beginning to come to life. Normally, this would frustrate him, but Cara had left him a note saying that Karga was excusing them of all duties today⏤ as a thanks. Any issues would run through him. In any other scenario, Din would argue over this plan, but today? No, today he was going to send Karga a damned fruit basket as thanks when he got the chance.

There was a very long list of tasks Din had to accomplish. He needed to hunt down Daelar so he could rip the man’s cowardly spine from his body and beat him to death with it for leaving his son and you without medicine. He needed to repair his vambrace so the communicator would work once more. He needed to ensure Grogu was healing properly⏤ though you were handling that better than he ever could it seemed. And a few other dozen items he always had on his to-do list. One of the more important things on his list of goals for the day? You.

Din knew he had a bad habit of tunnel vision. He knew because people told him this constantly. He tended to make a goal and then barrel through any obstacle or issue with blinders on until he got what he wanted. It was part of the reason why he was so good at bounty hunting, though it was also the reason why he found himself in so many messes over the years. Today, it would come in handy because you were at the end of this tunnel.

“How much longer will he be asleep?” Din asked. Grogu was bundled up in his arms as the two of you entered into the house.

You set the bag of supplies you had taken from the clinic onto the kitchen counter then shrugged. “If I had to guess…a couple more hours?”

“Good.” Din replied. Without another word, he began the journey to his room. First things first, he needed to get his son settled. The last time Din had seen Grogu sleep so soundly was when they first met and he saved him from the mudhorn.

Carefully, he tucked the boy into his hammock and shuffled through the toys below to find Grogu’s favorite stuffed frog. Din set it in the hammock as well and took a minute to breath out a sigh of relief. Maker, he was thankful Grogu was safe and healing. He was thankful for you, and he wanted to show that to you in any and every way you’d allow him.

Din stepped back and began to peel off layers of his beskar. The gloves and his gauntlets fell away first followed by his shoulder pieces and his torso. He had even shrugged out of the tight upper half of his flight suit leaving him in the plain t-shirt that sat beneath. His hands drifted to undo his belt, but he heard you pass by his room on the way to the bathroom. Din paused in his process and walked out of his room⏤ almost like a man possessed. As he shut the door behind him quietly, as to not rouse Grogu, he heard the sound of the shower kick on. His body was moving before he fully registered the motion, and his knuckles rapped against the wooden door.

“Yeah?” Your muffled voice called out.

“Can I come in?” It was a weighted question, he knew, and judging on the silence that followed it you were aware of this as well. Your eventual reply was a soft affirmative noise, and Din found himself pushing the door open slowly. He’d keep all his movements slow. Din would give you every opportunity to push him away. The relationship between the two of you was a series of lines drawn in the sand, and Din knew he was blowing past every single one right now.

You stood at the bathroom counter, back to the mirror, and the shower off to the side was already running. His helmet’s sensor told him the water beating down was ice cold.

“I was thinking a, uh, shower,” You cleared your throat, eyes not leaving him, “might be the best thing for me right now.”

Din gave a small nod. Then took another step in your direction, “I can help with that.” Din said every word slowly, took every step slowly, in order to give you every opportunity to stop him. “If you’d like.”

The corner of your lips twitched up, a sight that made him ache, and you shrugged. “The buttons on this shirt were really tricky.”

It was the only invitation he needed to close the remaining space between the two of you. Din cupped your face with his bare hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks, and he tilted your head up just so he could look at you. Maker, you were gorgeous. The light in your eyes, the way you glowed when you smiled, it put the stars to shame.

“You’re a work of art, ner kar’ta.” He breathed.

“What does that one mean?” You asked softly. “Ner kar’ta.”

Din tilted his head with a chuckle, “If I told you, I’d have to come up with a new nickname to call you.”

His fingers trailed down your neck and found the buttons that started at your collar. Din continued to move slowly as he undid each button of your shirt, but this time it was for his own sake rather than yours. He wanted to savor every second of touch he had with you. He soaked in the soft gasps you made every time his cold fingers brushed against your warm torso.

“I like this look on you, by the way.” You whispered. Din hummed in response⏤ too busy admiring your bare skin to be decent at holding a real conversation. You leaned forward enough that he could pull the shirt down off your body leaving you in only a bra. “The t-shirt. With the beskar plated pants and boots⏤ plus that helmet. You’d have bounties quivering.”

Din ran his hands across your belly, over your sides, then up your back. So close now that his chest was pressed against yours. He kept his voice low and quiet. “Am I making you quiver?” The sharp breath you sucked in was a sound he’d have memorized for the rest of his life. Din let his hands explore your upper body determined to memorize that as well.

Eventually his hands made it back to your chest and he let his fingers brush against the scar on your collarbone. Briefly he felt you stiffen. “Mesh’la.” Din reassured, then followed it up in a language you’d understand. “Beautiful. You are so kriffing beautiful, ner kar’ta.”

Din traced his hands downward, pausing over your breasts, then continued to drag his palms over your abdomen⏤ his thumb dipped against your navel. When his hands reached the waistband of your pants, he undid the button and zipper then knelt down in front of you. Din helped you step out of the first pants’ leg and he held his hand behind your knee allowing his thumb to tenderly caress circles against your calf. Din stared up at you the entire time. The pupils of your eyes were blown wide with desire and your tempting lips were parted. It was a look that Din wouldn’t mind staring up at forever. He’d spend the rest of his life on his knees for you if it meant you’d continue to look at him in this way.

“Pretty girl.” Din hummed as he worked to get your other leg untangled from the rest of your pants. He focused his gaze back to eye level and took in a shaky breath. Your dark underwear was a shade darker at the center, a damp spot he could just barely see, but it was enough to tell him you were in the same state of being nearly undone by the other. It was a match to the near painful hard on he had pressed against the thickness of his flight suit’s pants.

It was absolute torture to be so close to what he wanted, but still be separated by so much. Din had never been so tempted to rip the helmet off his head just so he could press open mouthed kisses up your thigh to your damp center. He was an Apostate anyways according to the covert. That title just might be worth it for a taste of you.

“Din.” You breathed his name and he shuddered in response.

Maker, he wanted you to know how much you meant to him. Din wished he could string together paragraph after paragraph about how you made him feel. But, he was bad at talking. Din didn’t have the skills to voice how strong his thoughts were. Action though? Oh, Din was very good at action. And, he planned to reveal how strongly he felt for you with every touch he was allowed. You said Grogu would be asleep for another few hours. Din didn’t think that was near enough time, but it would be a good start to how he planned to worship your body.

He may not be able to use his mouth, but years of being bound by this barrier made him very, very good with his hands. Din hooked his fingers under the bands of your panties with full intention to rip them off of you, but your hands suddenly landed on his.

Worried, his head snapped up to gauge if you were alright. “Cyar’ika⏤”

“I’m okay. I’m more than okay, I’m⏤” You took a slow, shuddering breath. “But if you get started, I’m going to absolutely fall apart, Din.”

“That’s exactly what I want, pretty girl.” Din chuckled. As the other nickname left his lips, Din wished he knew your real name. Calling you Soran, knowing the little he did, felt wrong. Another chuckle escaped him. It wasn’t often he was on the curious end of this conundrum.

You ran your hands over his forearms, to his elbows, and you tried to pull him up to stand. Din, reluctantly, stood back up so he was towering over you once more. The bright smile that filled your features was enough to make it worth it. You reached out and set your hands on his shoulders. “It’s my turn to explore.” Din tilted his head, in genuine confusion, and you dragged your hands down to his abdomen. The tips of your fingers brushed against his bare skin and his entire body stiffened in response. “You’re wearing too much clothes.”

Din hesitated, only for a moment, before he reached back to grasp the collar of his shirt and pulled it up over his head. A nervous energy settled in his chest as he let the shirt fall to the bathroom floor. Din watched you as your small fingers ran across his abdomen, chest, and arms. Every scar you came across, you spent the time tracing it softly as he had yours.

“Mesh’la.” You said though the pronunciation was just slightly off. He chuckled and your smile widened. Your hands trailed to his back and he felt you lightly dragging your nails against his skin. Goosebumps formed on his skin. “I’m serious though, Din. I could spend all day staring at you⏤ touching you.”

Din couldn’t help but shake his head. “You don’t have to lie. I think I have more scars than normal skin, at this point.”

“I’m not lying.” You replied. He didn’t think he could be more surprised by your actions, but you leaned in and pressed your lips against a rather gnarly patch of scarred skin on the left side of his chest where a vibroblade had cut through the armor he had before his beskar. Honest to Maker, an actual whimper slipped from him as his eyes fluttered closed. You continued on. Taking the time to press your lips against every scar you could find while mumbling about how beautiful he was between each one.

Din had never been so intimate with a person before. He was no stranger to sex, to carnal desires, but up until now every encounter had been a means to an end. Quick and to the point. Nearly every time, he’d still have on every piece of his armor. The partners he found would be in various stages of undress, but Din never felt comfortable enough to match them in that state. Everything about this moment was starkly different. He felt safe and he treasured every single tender second that passed. He craved it. Din craved you. Another difference. Before now, his sex life had been a series of hit and runs. Never the same person twice. It wasn’t necessarily a conscious choice, but Din was always traveling and nothing tempted him enough to return and repeat.

You were not those other partners. Maker, he’d never get enough of you. Din knew that without a doubt and he technically hadn’t even fully touched you yet. That was the stranglehold you had on his mind, body, and soul.

When you pulled back, Din reopened his eyes to stare down at you. He cupped your face once more and for what had to be the thousandth time he wished he didn’t have a wall of beskar separating the two of you. Your hands lifted to hold over his then trailed down to his elbows. Without looking away from him, Din felt your hands on his abdomen. Tracing lower, lower, lower. You undid his belt then buried your hands into his pants to pull them down further. He could feel your hands against his thighs, and it was absolutely pathetic how close he came to falling apart just by having you near his cock.

The sudden loud banging of someone beating their fist against the front door of the house drifted down the hall into the bathroom, and it was just as jarring as if Din had stepped into the cold shower himself. Both of you froze, his hands cupping your face and your hands still buried in his pants. A beat of silence made Din hopeful, but it was followed by a now repeated banging that did not stop.

Din let out a groan and let his head fall forward to lightly rest against your forehead. His frustrated words came out in a near snarl. “I’m going to kill whoever is at the door.”

The sound of your quiet laugh loosened the tension in his shoulders but did nothing to the new level of frustration he had. You pulled your hands out of his pants, a loss that devastated Din, and placed them over his again.

“Well, you know what they say about anticipation.” You said.

“No.” Din shook his head. “I don’t. What do they say?”

Your smile turned sheepish as you shrugged. “I, uh, I don’t actually know.” Din’s lips curled into a smile of his own. “I didn’t think you’d call me on that. To be honest, words just sort of fall out of my mouth when I’m with you.” Din chuckled, and you squeezed his hands. “I don’t think my brain works right when my skin is touching yours.”

Din knew lust. He could recognize the hot, burning solar flare it tended to be. It was blinding. Like, a comet rushing by him leaving him spinning in the heated sparks of its tail end. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel that way with you⏤ Maker, knew that wasn’t the case⏤ but with you there was something else. It came on so slow that he didn’t even realize he felt the comforting warmth until it was nestled deep in his chest. The feeling planted roots in his soul and blossomed into something he couldn't live without. It was invigorating. It was life. It was standing in the sun on a warm day and soaking in every ray of warmth.

“I need to answer the door.” You mumbled. “Before the knocking wakes up Grogu.”

Din nodded with another sigh. You turned your head, pressing your lips to the palm of his hand, then stepped away from him. You leaned over to turn the shower off⏤ the shower neither of you ever made it to⏤ and he bent over to scoop up his shirt. Din held it out to you. A deliberate decision. You raised an eyebrow at him but didn’t hesitate to pull his too large shirt over your head. Din nodded at the sight of you, appeased at seeing you in his clothes.

“I’ll be right there.” Din said as you hurried away.

When he knew you were a safe distance away, he pulled his helmet off and rubbed his face with his hands. Anticipation. Din had been on the edge of anticipation for much too long. He was sliding straight into sexually frustrated now. At this rate, when he finally did get a taste of you it might just kill him.

“Mando!” Your voice called out. He had already gotten used to hearing you use his name after one day. Enough so that the moniker disappointed him. Still, Din felt a flash of pride that his trust had been rewarded. He didn’t even need to tell you not to use his real name in front of others. You just knew. “It’s Karga!”

“I’ll be right there.” He called back and grabbed his helmet. Din would have to step back into his room to dress back into his gear before meeting the High Magistrate. One thing was for certain, he would not be sending Karga a kriffing fruit basket anymore.

mando’a translations

Mesh’la: Beautiful /// Cyar’ika: Sweetheart /// Ner Kar’ta: My Heart

taglist

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner

#the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #protective din djarin #good dad din djarin #mando x reader #mando #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfic #Female reader #reader insert #slow burn #tension #all the tension

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saradika · 8 months

Text

— BLEED FOR ME | epilogue

[masterlist]

mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 1.6k

haunted hoedown: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+2 secrets!)

tags: vampire!au, sexual innuendos/references and nude cuddling, sweet and sappy fluff

a/n: honestly I just wanted to write a sweet little ending for them - this epilogue is optional! 💕

It's the last evening you'll wake like this.

There's a sort of melancholy with that knowledge. A thrill that comes soon after, as you already look to the future. All the changes that you will live to see, with Din at your side.

The adjustment will take some time getting used to, you're sure. But in ways, you're already living among them. The dusk is now your dawn, and there's solace found in a life spent walking under the stars.

But the diet... well, that will be one of the largest changes. The delicate pastries, the jams and the freshly-baked bread from the downstairs kitchen will be certainly something you’ll miss. But with time, you’re sure you will manage.

As you stir in the large bed - the last dregs of light filter through cracks around the arched windows, slipping in at the edges.

Rich pinks and purples fading into grey as they are dragged across the stone floor of the massive room you now share with Din - disappearing with the sun.

The room of slate grey now woven with shades of indigo and violet and gold. The starry night sky brought with you, when your things mixed with his. Reminders from your beloved tower, woven into tapestries that hang on the walls.

The rack of clothes near the door is now filled to the brim with pieces you now wear proudly. The books you've collected now line his shelves, next to your ottoman.

Everything weaving together so neatly.

Your lives have become entwined as well. There had been some adjusting, after he had returned to you. After that long morning spent, entwined in the sheets.

Time had been taken after, days and weeks spent with the intent of getting to know each other. Putting the knowledge of your bond aside - starting fresh, wiping the slate from before clean.

And now... that feels like a lifetime ago.

You cherish the few stolen minutes as your mate rests beside you - waiting for full darkness before he stirs. Your hand props up your chin as your eyes trace over his features, not wanting to wake him.

Over the bare expanse of his chest, the curve of a shoulder. The slight, persisting furrow of his brow. Parted lips, the points of his teeth just barely visible.

Dreamless, in his dormancy.

Among the list of changes, that is one thing that you do not think you will mind. Because with time, you have moved on from the before.

But it still comes back to visit you, in your dreams. Waking up in a sweat as the fire licks at you. The echo of the throbbing in your head, the ghosts of the faces that swim before you.

Compared to that - the soft silence is appealing. Perhaps preferable.

And soon he stirs, under your admiring gaze.

Under the fingertips that can't help but reach out and touch. Across the scars and marks you've come to know so well. Dark eyes fluttering open, the low groan as his muscles flex with his languid stretch - as he pulls you closer.

"Today is the day." You tell him, and he smiles.

He smiles more often, now. For you, behind closed doors and in stolen moments. A rich, ringing laugh that makes you feel accomplished when you can pull it from him.

Still so much the reserved man that you had met so long ago, but you know his humor now. The dry quips and the sighs, and each time you hear them - you think you fall just a little harder.

"It is," He agrees, his knuckles brushing your cheek.

There's a glittering look in his eye - before his hand is grabbing your calf, thrown across his waist. Pulling you to him, on top of him. Straddling his waist - your thighs squeezing his hips, as your hands flatten against his chest.

A little squeak as you find your balance, with a shift of your hips. The air cold above the nest of blankets, chilled by the thick walls of stone and the frost that's begun to nip at the grass outside.

Your skin pebbling, as his hands smooths over your thighs - trying to warm you. His sleepy gaze dragging over skin that's just as bare as his.

Lingering on the remnants from the morning before. The pretty marks against your skin, the twin sets of bruises lingering on the soft swells of your breasts.

Some, you still heal.

But there's others - ones tucked beneath layers of silver and crimson silk - that you leave. A secret something for him to rediscover later, when he strips the clothes from you.

"Are you nervous?" He asks, as his thumb sweeps across your skin.

After a moment of thought your nose scrunches, as you shake your head, "You said it wouldn't hurt."

"Wouldn't hurt too badly." He clarifies, carefully, "You'll be... uncomfortable. From what I remember. But I'll be with you."

You supposed it would be uncomfortable. To have your blood all but drained, leaving you open for it to be replaced.

But you can't help but think that there was a sick sort of romanticism in the ritual. At the thought of his essence being the first you will feed on - the final step of your transformation.

"If you're with me, then I can do anything." You smile.

Fingers bite into your skin, as his hips rock upward at your words. His cock twitching where it’s trapped snugly between your thighs, pressing against the soft curve of your ass.

His words come out distracted, "Maybe when this is over, you can convince Fennec. Show her that it isn't so bad. She's never seen the ritual done, before."

"I'm surprised she hasn’t changed yet." You can't help but move with him - a subtle rock of your hips that has an eyebrow raising, "She pretends not to be interested, but I saw her listening when I was talking about tonight with Boba."

Boba - who had chosen this path of life for himself, like you had. Following in his father's footsteps. A friendship had formed, and you know that he was someone who you could talk to without bias - who would give you each and every detail with an open clarity.

The messiness of your first hunt. The sharp bite of silver, the sear of the midday sun. The hunger.

Because, you knew that deep down - Din secretly held onto the wish to have with him. Just as you did.

"Perhaps she’s nervous. She’s had a close enough brush with death already.”

"I doubt that," Din’s guess makes your smile, as you counter, "Fennec isn't afraid of anything. I'm much more scared, and I'm still-"

His expression changes then, eyebrows pinching in concern. Hands bracing on your hips to pin you down, halting your teasing as he pushes himself up on an elbow.

"If you've changed your mind cyare, we can wait." Din tells you - solemnly and with no judgement, "As long as you need."

His words, his concern, warms you.

But you don't want to wait any longer. The thought had already first come to you, soon after your first evenings together. Only for that wish to intensify in those weeks and months that followed.

Sometimes it felt like it had taken so long to find Din. Even longer for him - neither one of you thinking or even suspecting that your mate might be out there. Waiting. Destined for them.

The idea that you wouldn't want to - that you could live with the idea of him existing in a world where you weren't right there, by his side was...

Impossible. Unthinkable.

"That's not what I meant." You frown, your head shaking, "We've talked about it."

His look softens, "I know we have. I just mean that either way, it's your choice."

“I’ve thought plenty about it,” You gently assure him, “I want this.”

You know that the choice has always been yours. And maybe that's one of the reasons you want it so badly. The very human urge to reach out and sink your teeth into the ripe fruit of immortality.

A smile, then - as your mind wanders. Wanting to turn him away from his concern - to bring that smile back.

"Besides, don't you think it will be nice, once you don't have to hold back?" You coo, distracting him again - taking advantage of this way his hands had loosed, with another pointed wiggle of your hips, "If I'm going to be your riduur, then I should-"

He interrupts you, with a voice that is rough and firm - the voice of a Mand'alor.

"You will be my riduur, vampire or not."

It makes your heart race, a fluttering of your pulse. Just how much he loves, how he always has. The true nature of those names he’s called you from the beginning carefully confessed, repeated reverently in your ear.

Groaned against your skin with the pump of his hips, the familiar swirl of his fingers. Mixing in with praise, choked out and ragged as he buries himself in you.

Whispered softy in the early morning after, as you both drift off together.

And now quickly you’ve caught up - falling head-over-heels as well. With his kindness and his ferocity and his loyalty, all so carefully woven into everything he did.

You think you would have fallen, even if he wasn’t your soulmate.

The upcoming ceremony is for tradition - something that you both want. But it’s not needed to prove your devotion - not with the way you both know deep down that the bond of your mark and your entwined souls more than joins you.

That it already tethers you together - throughout space and time.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum." You murmur - the words finally sounding smooth, with the hours of practice, "That's what I want. Forever."

You can feel his smile, as he pushes up to kiss you. Slowly moving down to your throat, the thrill of his open-mouth kiss heightened with the sharp scrape of teeth - a mimicry of later.

His voice is soft and smooth as he repeats the words. So full of love that it makes you ache, as his lips press against your skin. As he swears one more vow.

"Then forever is what I will give you.”

cyare - beloved | riduur - spouse

ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - "I love you." / I will know you forever”

— THE END!

(one of my fave parts of vampire/human romances is the ‘so do they turn too?’ and since they are soulmates I thought that would be fun to explore as a sweet little ending for this series. Thank you all so much again for reading! 💖)

(Tags: @dameron-grant-spector, @sugadolly, @writingsofestella, @spaceydragons, @-ohsolovely-, @survivingandenduring, @queenquazar, @alitaar, @dindjarinsslut, @creatureoftheunderworldd, @margowritesthings, @your-slutty-gf, @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl, @lovers-liability, @swissy23)

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin imagine #hauntedhoedown #haunted hoedown

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kieran-granola · 8 months

Text

Material Boy

(This one is available on AO3)

When he’s not busy being a vigilante, Tim likes to think that he’s a pretty simple guy. He has normal, civilian friends. He's awkward when he talks to people he wants to bang. He likes skateboarding and playing Warlocks & Warriors. He dropped out of high school.

He also, like many kids of his generation, grew up collecting superhero merchandise and memorabilia.

And yes, maybe he never got out of the habit of collecting super-trinkets even after joining the vigilante game — a fact he keeps between himself and God, he can only imagine how much shit Steph and the others would give him if they knew — but it's not like he steals stuff from the heroes he knows. He just... buys things. A lot of things.

Which brings him to his current problem: the amount of merchandise created depends a lot on a hero's popularity. This means that Superman has insane amounts of merch. Wonder Woman and Batman too, to a lesser extent. In Gotham, Robin does pretty well for kids' stuff, and Nightwing has inspired more than one, uh, adult line of toys.

…But Red Hood? As tacky as brands can get with their products, they know better than to create merch of mass murdering rogues and villains, and unfortunately people aren't sure whether Red Hood qualifies a good guy. This means that Tim's haul is Very Poor when it comes to Hood. Which is an issue on account of Tim's massive crush on Jason.

How is a man supposed to pine in dignity when he can't even find a decent body pillow to warm his lonely bed? How?!

Tim obviously has to fix this problem. He has to rehabilitate Red Hood and ensure a steady supply of bling for his display cases. And shelves. And furniture. And possibly wardrobe, he's not picky.

He has to.

Which is why he ends up raving about Red Hood, his crime-fighting exploits, and his charity work on social media. He uses all of his covers' accounts and even creates a few more, enthusing people and posting praise until, finally, his amateur PR campaign snowballs.

He knows his job is done when his hashtags start trending outside of the Gotham metro area, and the first Red Hood plushie comes out of Build-A-Bear.

___________________________

Jason is bemused when he first gets wind of his rising popularity. Sure, it's nice to be appreciated and the genuine testimonials from Gothamites warm the cockles of his dead, dead heart, but where did the hype come from? And why are people trying to ask him for autographs? He's a crime lord! He's dangerous and scary, and people should definitely not feel comfortable enough to ask him for selfies!

…Oh fuck, is that it? Is someone trying to sabotage his reputation?

Disturbed, Jason reaches out to Oracle for some help with finding the person behind this heinous plan. He's not entirely sure why Babs laughs for five minutes straight after hearing his question, but she eventually tells him that the original accounts extolling his virtues belong to Red Robin's covers.

Shrugging to himself, he suits up and heads to Tim's nest. He busts in, ready to deliver the wrath of the Hood on Tim for making him look like a hero when he's a Very Mean, Very Dangerous Badass… only to find Tim eating Froot Loops out of some violently lime liquid, while wearing what looks like chibi Red Hood pajamas, complete with little cat ears over the stylized helmet.

Suffice to say, that display takes the wind out of Jason's sails. He holsters his weapons back and takes off his helmet so Tim can properly appreciate how appalled he is before speaking.

"Okay, what the fuck, Timbo?"

Tim blinks. "You wanna be a bit more specific there?"

"I wouldn't even know where to start. Just. What the fuck."

"Well, I'm having dinner?" Tim tries, shoving a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.

"Froot Loops in, what is that, cucumber juice? That's dinner?" Jason stares harder.

Tim swallows his spoonful thickly. "It's Mountain Dew, actually."

"Okay but that's worse. You get how that's worse, right?"

"Did you seriously come here to talk about my meal plans?"

"I came here to ask why you decided to ruin my street cred, and to kick your ass—" Jason winces as Tim eats another mouthful, "—but apparently you're doing a great job at hurting yourself on your own."

Tim gives him a blank look. "I ruined your street cred? How?"

"You told people I'm a hero," Jason says accusingly.

"Ah, I see what the problem is. Look, Jason, this might come as a shock to you and I understand if you need to take a minute to process this very new piece of information but… you are a hero, dumbass."

Jason seriously considers throwing his helmet at Tim but, with the state Tim is in, he's pretty sure it would feel like pouring water on a drowning man.

"I'm not the kind of hero they make jammies of! I mean, what the fuck are you even wearing?"

Tim pulls on his shirt to show off the design, perking up. "These? They're Red Catting Hood limited edition PJs. They're cute, right?"

You're cute, Jason mutters under his breath, before taking a few menacing steps forward. "They're ridiculous. I'm not a cat. And I'm definitely not cute."

"We're going to have to agree to disagree there."

Jason stares at him. "You think I'm cute?"

"No, I think you're a cat," Tim deadpans, still eating his disgusting mixture.

"I… I tried to kill you, remember?!"

"Yeah, you did. And now I have little cartoon kitties of you on my jim-jams. Life's full of curveballs, isn't it?"

Jason is pretty sure he's having a minor breakdown in Tim's kitchen. He opens and closes his mouth silently several times, confusion robbing him of his words. Tim watches him for a couple of minutes, then he stands up and shuffles closer to pat him on the back.

Jason lets out a very unmanly squeak of horror when he spots matching Red Catting Hood slippers on Tim's feet.

Tim shushes him. "Hey, it's okay, dude. I understand that you don't know how to deal with people expressing positive emotions in your direction after getting the Bruce special growing up, but it's gonna be fine. Just breathe. You'll get used to it."

Jason stares at Tim with wide eyes. Then he gently takes him by the shoulders.

"Timmers. Tim. You crazy little birdie. Telling me I'm cute, talking about emotions... Are you okay? Is this a cry for help? Talk to me."

"You ask me that now?" Tim gives him a judgmental look. "I can't believe that's where you draw the line. I mean, where's your 'Be my Robin' enthusiasm?"

"It drowned in your bowl of Mountain Dew next to the Froot Loops. No, but seriously. If I'm your last resort, then you can tell me what's wrong. No need for tacky PJs, I'll listen."

Tim's eyes narrow. "Okay, then listen to this. First of all, my PJs aren't tacky. Second, I like you, dumbass, and yeah, I think you're cute. And third, I hyped you up on social media because I wanted Red Hood merch for my collection."

Jason takes a second to let that confession wash over him. He regrets removing his helmet. He's blushing, he knows he's blushing. In fact he must have been a redhead in another life, because he must be reminiscent of a tomato at this point, and oh no. He's a grown-ass man, why is he blushing like a nerd for this incredibly sleep-deprived, adorable maniac?

"You have a collection?" he squeaks.

"Uh, yeah. I started it when I was 4." Tim raises his eyebrows. "But nevermind that, are you seriously going to leave me hanging? I just told you I like you, man."

"I don't know what to say," Jason chokes out. "This... You're—I'm not good for you."

"Sorry but the entire internet would disagree. You're a hero, remember? And I can take care of myself, thank you very much. I don't need to be patronized."

Jason gestures at Tim's dinner. "That is demonstrably false."

Tim pouts. "Well. If you were my boyfriend, you could make sure I eat properly."

"Is that what you want? To be my b—" Jason's voice breaks. He swallows before trying again. "To be my boyfriend?"

"I mean, yeah?" Tim shrugs. "That's not why I hyped you up, I'm not kidding about the merch thing. But. Yeah. That would be… Good. Nice."

"Oh."

"Is that something you'd like too?"

Jason licks his lips. "Yeah, I—I think so. Yeah. There's just one thing though..."

Hope sparkles in Tim's eyes. "What?"

"It's just... I can't let people think you like me more than I like you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means—" Jason tugs on the fabric of Tim's PJs, "—that for every Red Hood item you own, you have to get me some matching Red Robin merch."

Tim grins a wide, bright, genuine smile that almost offsets the deep purple bruising under his tired eyes. "It's a deal."

___________________________

(They show up to the Manor together two months later to announce their relationship. They walk in hand-in-hand, Jason wearing a Red Robin hoodie, Tim in a Red Hood henley. Damian doesn't even have to pretend to gag at the sight.)

#jaytim #jason todd #tim drake #if you're wondering why Tim didn't just commission some artist for Red Hood merch #well that's because he can't flex online about owning limited editions if there's no market other than him #kieran writes

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slashers-and-rats · 8 months

Note

Ahhhhh!!!! Prompts are open for you?? 🤯 May I request Brahmsy-baby with fem! nanny who’s always scolding him for being naughty? (Take it as you will or see!) please and thanks boo!! 😩🙏🏼❤️

brahms heelshire x reader | softcore!nsfw | clothed grinding, spanking, msub!brahms

a/n: my personal head canon is that brahms is a dumb brat boy, so y’know. that’s what this is. thank you for gifting me such a good prompt.

you and brahms had developed a routine of sorts. after living together so long, something like that is to be expected, but this was different. it might’ve been more accurate to say brahms had developed a pattern, or game he liked to play with you.

it was simple. at least once a day, brahms chose a rule to break. sometimes it was a smaller one, like stealing away treats to the walls without your permission. sometimes it was bigger, like clearly spying on you while you were in your own private moments. you always caught him, you had developed an eye for his tricks. you’d catch him, and then punish him how you saw fit. you hoped with the right amount of discipline, maybe he’d learn one day.

but brahms didn’t see what you were doing as “discipline”. how you hadn’t realized this fact yet was beyond him, as he felt like it was somewhat clear he enjoyed making you angry. he liked the way you scolded him. for smaller offences, you’d simply have him sit in a time out, and rant about how you didn’t understand why he was misbehaving. he’d be grinning underneath his mask, so amused by your cute furrowed brows and stern look. for the bigger things, you became a bit more… intense.

for example, one day, long after you had tucked the man into bed and presumed he had fallen asleep, you had stowed yourself away in the library. the collection of books this house had was massive, and spanned across so many genres, you wondered if you’d be able to make it through them all before you died. you were sure going to try. you had found some steamy romance novel tucked away on the higher shelves, as if hidden from prying eyes, and it had engulfed you.

thinking brahm’s was asleep, and too tuckered out from a day of chores to really move back to your bedroom, you had gotten comfortable on the couch and were idly teasing yourself. you couldn’t help it. it was so hard to get private time with an always curious man slinking around in the walls, and sometimes you needed to be alone.

your eyes hung off of every word as you rubbed yourself through your panties, your pyjama shirt tucked under your neck comfortably so you could play with your tits as well. the story was about some burly man, a lumberjack, whisking away a maiden from a nearby village. it was a classic smut, not much plot to be seen, but you didn’t care. realism wasn’t something you had been searching for in that moment.

brahms could see that. you didn’t spot him, but he was watching you. he had woken up a long time ago, having gone to your room to ask if he could have a glass of water, only to find you missing. he had began his usual scramble through the different passages of the house, searching around for where you could’ve wound up, and when he found you splayed on the couch of the library, it was like nothing he had ever seen before. he was captivated. the way you teased yourself lightly, the way your panties dampened underneath your own touch, the rise and fall of your chest, and the focus your stare had on that page - he wanted to be the one you were looking at like that. he wanted to make you pant and whimper, he wanted to be the one grinding himself against your clothed pussy, he wanted to be the one to please you.

and yet there he was, simply watching you through a hole in the wall like some pervert. his own hand had found his cock, trapped still in the fabric of his pyjama pants. he copied you, rubbing over it and biting his lip as to hold back noises. you had gotten so good at spotting him, he couldn’t take a chance and moan. no, he kept himself as silent as a mouse, grinding into the fabric of his boxers, and stifling every little whimper that threatened to spill.

this went on for a minute or two, this sick little mimicry. brahms wanted to burst through the wall. he wanted to pin you down, and see your eyes widen, and see that red face that you got when you saw him feral like this. you had taken care of him like this a few times before, but only as a treat for him being extra good. as of late, that was a rarer occurrence. he got off to you being so mad at him. his mind wandered, beginning to think about what would happen if you caught him then. you’d be so grumpy, probably chastising him about being out of bed before you even mentioned his erection twitching against his waist. maybe you’d edge him, maybe you’d spank him, maybe you’d pull his hair and have him beg for your forgiveness - it was all too much to think about. without even realizing, he had gotten lost in the way you looked, and had begun letting quiet moans fall from his mouth. somewhere, subconsciously, he wanted to get caught.

his wish was granted, when you heard those faint whimpers coming out of the walls. you sat up immediately, and it made brahms jump and fall back against the wall of his tunnel. you heard that sound for sure, and threw the book aside, pushing your shirt down. it made him whine low in his throat. he wanted to see more, why hide from him?

“brahms, where are you?” you spoke stern. oh, he was in trouble. he felt the corners of his mouth curling mischievously. he could make this worse for himself. he could choose to stay in the walls, pretending as if it hadn’t been him, and you’d chase him throughout the house like a little game of tag. but, when you stood, and he saw your aggravated expression, he thought maybe he had tortured you enough.

he felt around for a particular panel on the wall, and pressed down so he could slip himself out from his secret passage. you turned to where the noise was coming from, and saw him peek his head out, staring up at you with large eyes. “here,” he said, just above a whisper. he felt anxious underneath your eyes, but in a good way. his heart was beating fast, and his body was beginning to heat up.

“what have i told you about spying on me, brahms? especially when I’m having private time.” you walked over to him, grabbing him by the shoulder of his sweater and tugging him out into the room fully. he rose to his full height, and wrung out the fabric of his sleeves between his hands. “what were you doing, huh?”

your eyes trailed down his body, and quickly found his prominent bulge. it made your face red. that amused brahms so much. after everything you two had done, you still felt so embarrassed to see him aching for you. maybe it was new for you to have such a needy man pining for your affections, or maybe brahms was just more of a heart throb than he thought.

“what book were you reading?” he asked, stepping up closer to you. he loomed over you, but still felt small in your presence. your roles were clear, and he could be ninety feet tall and still seem small to you. he liked it.

“none of your business,” you tutted, leading him over to the couch. “this is the third time in the past two days i’ve caught you spying on me. once in the shower, once while getting changed for bed, and now this. you’ve been very bad, brahms.”

he nodded along with you. oh, he liked where this was going. he was lucky he had his mask on, or maybe you’d see how excited he was getting. what would he be getting today? what lecture would you give? they only fuelled his desire, and yet you still played this game with him.

you sat down, leaning back on the couch before patting your thigh. a spanking. brahms was admittedly surprised. he hadn’t gotten this punishment in a long time, since last time he had managed to wriggle out of your lap and escape back to the walls. that had been one of the first times he realized he enjoyed making you grumpy with him, especially if it was going to get him things like that.

“across my lap, i don’t have all night,” you instructed. it pulled him back down to his body from his thoughts, and he nodded, quickly marching over to where you sat. he wiggled his pants and underwear down his hips, just enough that his butt was revealed, and positioned himself over your lap. it felt right, to be there. his cock was pressing somewhat painfully against the confines of his clothes, and his chest and hands were pressed into the couch beside your legs. he tried to keep his head up, trying to crane back to look at you. this made you tangle a hand in his hair, yanking it so that his masked face was pressed against the couch along with the rest of his upper body.

his lower half squirmed with anticipation. he knew you could feel him throbbing against your thigh. he wondered how it made you feel, if you were experiencing the same butterflies he was. he hoped so.

once again, he was yanked from his thoughts when suddenly a sharp hand swatted against his ass. it made him yelp out, his back arching slightly for a moment before collapsing hard against your lap. “we’re doing ten,” you explained. “that was one. count for me.”

it was torture, such a sweet torture. every slap against his ass was followed by a soothing rub over his cheek. he would push out the numbers, his voice shaky and high, barely able to pretend that this was something he didn’t love. he was never a good actor. he knew he was being obvious. by the fifth spank, he was writhing in your lap, trying to grind against your leg and moaning. he looked like a desperate whore; he looked like some dog in heat, rutting against your thigh like this. he hoped, deep down, that this was just as much torture for you as it was for him. he pleaded with whatever god was out there that you were feeling the same need he was.

you did. who are we kidding? the way he looked, so eager to be touched by you, so reactive to everything you gave him - he was a dream. his face was pressed down into the couch, back arching, cock grinding against your naked leg, and ass pushing into the hand you used to soothe the red there. every time your hand raised, he gasped in excitement, and every spank made him let out a long groan. he followed along so carefully, making sure to mewl out every number. now he was being good, now he was behaving, of course he was.

ten spanks came and went. by the time you were finished with him, his butt was red and he was a mess. he was hiding his face in his arms, embarrassed by how needy he looked. you were so good at keeping composure. sometimes he wished you weren’t so good, and that you’d feel the same way he did. he felt like all his nerves were on fire.

you pulled his head up from the couch once again, causing him to whimper loud. “are you gonna be good now?” you asked, patting the back of his thigh gently. he nodded enthusiastically.

“yes, yes, i promise… I’m a good boy,” he rasped out, high and whiny.

“you say that, but you’ve broken that promise before,” you tutted, running your hand from his thigh, over his butt, and up to his back. you rubbed small circles there, soothing him and nearly forcing him to relax into your touch.

“i promise, i promise… I’m a good boy, i am. no more spying.”

he sounded so sure. maybe he was being honest this time. you smirked and rolled him off of your lap, letting him gather himself where he laid beside you on the couch. “good. next time just ask to play.” you stood up, brushing yourself off. “okay, bedtime, brahms.”

his eyes widened, and he turned over so he could look up at you. his cock was still hard, it was leaking precum into his boxers. there was a small damp spot on his crotch, you had to have seen it. and you were just going to leave him like this. he began to sputter, trying to come up with a plea or a beg.

“don’t start. if you’re good tomorrow, we can play. but for now, you’re going back to bed,” you stated. the words were strong. brahms couldn’t argue with you.

his shoulders slumped dramatically, and he gathered his wits before standing up. “can… can i at least sleep with you…? please…?” he seemed so weak when he asked that, so pathetic.

you nodded. you couldn’t torture the man anymore, you had to at least give him one grace. you could see his eyes light up behind his mask, and before you could even think, he was shuffling out of the library and to the bedroom. you’d never understand him.

#brahms heelsire x reader #brahms heelshire #slasher x reader #slashers #ask

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ransprang · 5 months

Text

Vi x reader (Piss kink part 2)

Thank you anon for requesting on our KoFi

Read the Vi Piss kink part 1 here!

The rolling green hills of Malaysia were making you horny again as you drove through the lush countryside. You were still replaying the events from only a few hours ago, where you had had your pink haired goddess moaning and writhing in ecstasy above you.

You tried to stay fixated on the road but your eyes were glazing over with lust. Your mind filled with thoughts of your lover, guzzling water, getting hydrated, wet and ready for the next session. What a horny slut. Your slut.

As your eyes scanned the road ahead, you noticed Vi fall asleep, she was clearly tired from being fucked, you smiled at how beautiful she looked. You could hear her snoring softly as you drove, and that was enough background noise to keep you from turning on the radio.

As you drove, you noticed that a small rest stop was nearing. You opened your mouth to let Vi know, but then paused. She looked so peaceful resting next to you, without the usual worries and cares which usually lined her features. Suddenly you didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead you kept driving, and if that resulted in a little reward for you later, you weren’t going to complain.

After an hour’s drive with Vi deep in slumber, you reached the pit stop to get some snacks for the 4 hour road ahead of you. The trees were getting darker against the twilight sky, the street lights were now switched on, and as you got off the car at the petrol pump, there was a dingy air about it.

A massive Shell sign marked its entrance, there were several empty pumps in front of you, and a small shop with supplies behind. You parked the car at one of the pumps and as you hooked the pump in, carefully as to not wake Vi up, you took the time to jog to buy snacks.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a very old man, with long white hair in a pony. He was smoking a cigarette and did not bother looking up as you searched the shelves for some pringles, and soft drinks. Eventually picking up all your items you reach the cashier placing them down to get scanned, when you noticed something behind the eccentric man. Long, cylindrical, dark shapes were hanging at the back. Some were in innocuous white packages, others out in the open with delicate adornments like ridges and indents. This man had the biggest and most diverse collection of strap-ons you had ever seen.

With your mouth open you were stunned for a second, the old man instantly took note and casually remarked “Oh this? Ha, you wouldn’t believe what kind of people we get.” Snapping out of your trance, you kept looking at the different types before you, big, small, purple, black, ribbed and smooth. The variety was enormous, further fueling your curiosity.

As the cashier scanned your final item, he turned around and asked “So which one is it for you?” Looking at the collection, your eyes widened as you stuttered out, “Uh, uhm, the pink ribbed one please.” The old man nonchalantly picked it up and added it your bag.

“That’ll be 150 ringgit”, the old man’s eyes bore into yours intensely. Perhaps he had seen a lot in this little shop. Handing him the money you ran out with the bag, excited to show Vi your interesting find.

You went back to your car and closed the door softly, careful not to wake your sleeping beauty up. You placed the little bag on the dashboard and restarted the car. Anticipation thrummed under your skin, but you held yourself back. Chewing on your lip you tried to keep your thoughts from straying off the road.

After a while, looking in the mirror you saw Vi stirring around. Her eyes blinked, fluttering open. She groaned as she propped herself up. Your eyes met and you gave her a smile, “Hey beautiful, seems like you’re finally awake. Slept well after our little adventure?” you asked.

She laughed, “Yea cupcake. Slept well alright. How long have y’been driving for?” She ruffled her hair a bit, looking around the nighttime landscape. “A while,” you replied.

Vi quirked an eyebrow, “Geez doll, we still ain’t at the villa yet?” You tried to contain your laughter, “Yeah. The highlands are pretty vast I guess. How was your nap?”

“Good. Had some interesting dreams.”

“Oh do tell,” you replied, your heartrate picking up. “What did you dream about?”

“Let’s just say I was rather looking forward to reaching the hotel,” Vi smirked.

“And what did you have in mind babe?” You said, arousal running down your spine. Vi’s lips quirked into a devious grin which quickly spread across her face, “You’ll see.”

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel, “Why wait?”

Vi gave you a sideways glance.

“I got you a present,” you told her, indicating the plastic bag on the dashboard. “Open it.”

You could see the gleam in Vi’s eyes as she peeked inside, her face colouring immediately. You parked the car at the side of the road as Vi looked up at you, her expression lustful.

“Let’s move to the backseat, shall we?” You suggested slyly.

Vi all but ran and clambered into the backseat of the car with you following quickly behind.

As you loomed over her in the backseat you gently took the packet she had clenched in her hands. Her hands free, she cupped your cheek and closed her eyes, leaning in to kiss you.

As Vi kissed you, her tongue explored your mouth, she wanted you. Her aggression got stronger, she began pawing at your clothes as she pushed you back. As you fell back onto the seat she pulled her top off and began unbuttoning her shorts, pulling them down. You scampered to get your own clothes off quickly, Vi was breathing heavily in an attempt to control herself.

She sat there naked rubbing her thighs together clamping her pussy folds together. You noticed the motion and bit your lower lip. You could feel the fire within you burn. You whispered, “Vi? Baby lie back, let me see you.” Vi was so hot, heavy beads of sweat began sliding down her breasts falling onto her toned abs. She laid back down and parted her legs, you could see her vagina, wet and dripping.

Vi used her hand and began rubbing her clit, rolling her eyes back as she let out a moan, she added on, “I need you.” Eager to please, you put on the 8 inch strap on and rubbed at the tip, preparing it to enter Vi’s entrance. It felt cool under your touch but you knew it would heat up quickly enough. You pulled out a packet of lube and emptied it onto the plastic pink dildo, giving it a few solid strokes to spread it out.

You grabbed the strap-on and rubbed it on her clit, you could see it red and swollen from stimulation. She felt a jolt, you could see her stomach contract, as she released her breath. Vi was beginning to shake from pleasure. You entered slowly, making sure she was comfortable. The ridges and girth of the dildo stretched her sweet pussy out. Vi moaned with her eyes rolling back, “Fuck, yes.”

Once your whole length was within her, Vi used her hands to hold your waist to guide your hips and control your pace. She loved being in charge after all. You went faster and faster, Vi tightened her legs around your waist, “Cupcake..fuck I…I think I have to pee again. It feels really good baby, don’t stop.” You pick up your speed, “You’re taking me in so well,” you laugh breathlessly, looking at the feast before your eyes.

Vi rubs her clit faster, as her G spot gets fucked and her bladder throbs. She arches her back, in absolute ecstasy, she was on cloud nine. You could see how her supple breasts bounced with each thrust, sweat rolling down her body. You ached to make her cum. Vi moaned and stuttered out, “I don't think I can hold it in,” biting her lip.

You knew what you had to do next, as you slid your strap on out of her and pulled away you set her straight, essentially increasing the pressure on her bladder, making her even more sensitive. You took the car seat belt and strapped Vi in securely, completely naked with legs parted. You lowered yourself, kissing all the way down to her cunt. You lightly sucked on it as you used your tongue to play with her folds.

Vi’s urge to pee only got stronger as she contracted her vagina tightly in order to hold it. She could feel jolts of electricity rise up from her clit, as her urethra got stimulated. You used your fingers to part open her pussy as you flicked her clit with your tongue, you could taste her sweetness. You began kissing her vulva as she used the tip of her finger to rub her clit.

She could not contain herself any longer as she let herself release some of her fluids onto you. Instantly pulling away you exclaimed authoritatively “Won't let you be relieved just yet.” As you went back in with your strap on, humping her faster with Vi’s legs resting on your shoulders.

You lean closer to her body, both your tits rubbing together, you could feel her hard nipples against yours. You smashed your lips against Vi’s as your hips picked up pace pumping the woman beneath you. Vi, moaned loudly as she flipped you around. She let the seat belt loose and got on top of you, riding you, rubbing her cunt. She leaned back in a cowboy position as she released her juices. They spilled out around you. Vi moaned louder as she squirted, little spurts of urine spattering onto the car and your naked body. Vi was breathing heavily as she relieved herself, her face twisted in ecstasy.. You held her tightly, shoving your cock deeper into her as she orgasmed all over you.

As she came, you slowed down your pace and let her body stop quivering. You watched as the seat beneath you was drenched with her sweat, piss and cum. She moaned as she lifted her pussy up from the cock.

She sat on your lap and smacked your tit, “Good girl, pleasuring me, now…should I help you?” You needed her “Yes…” you said with an air of desperation. Vi smirked, “Oh please, you have to do better than that. Beg me.” You cupped her face “Vi, I want you to fuck me so hard, relieve the ache in my pussy.” Vi pushed you back almost harshly taking the strap-on off you and wearing it herself. “Cant believe I will fuck you with the same dick you put in me.”

As the tip of the cock entered you, still warm from its previous activity, you rubbed your clit with one hand and played with your nipples with the other. You wanted to cum so bad, especially with the stimulation from the strap on rubbing against your clit, you were already so close. You arched your back and asked Vi to slow down,”Vi, I want to feel you please,” you begged. Vi had an evil smirk “Feel me? Huh”, she stopped and pulled out. She took off the strap on and positioned herself to scissor you.

Lining her clit against yours, she slowly moved her hips for her pussy lips to rub against yours. You both looked down at your pussies rubbing against each other, watching the various juices get mixed together. Feeling satisfied from stimulating your vulva, as she easily moved you to sit up on her lap, with her thigh between your legs.

“Ride”, she commanded, looking into your eyes. You rubbed and rode her thigh desperately, leaving your juices on her. You rode her till you felt the heat rise up from your clit, it spread through your folds and went back to your pussy. You watched as her eyes wandered from the friction between your pussy and her thigh, up to the way your breasts moved frantically. Your face heated up from the intense attention. You threw your head back and moaned “Vi…”. She used her hand to gently rearrange your hair out of your face, leaning forward to kiss your neck, leaving hickeys. Vi’s hands moved to your hips helping you increase your speed, “Come on baby. Cum for me.”

Knowing you were just about to go over the edge, you tweaked your nipples, and with one final hip thrust you felt yourself burst as you came. You breathed heavily as Vi kept rocking your hips gently, making you ride out your orgasm. Once you came down from your high, you looked at Vi as you both looked at each other with eyes filled with love and ecstasy as she pulled you into a tight hug.

Once you had both caught your breath you looked around and saw the car was filthy, the seats soaked and the entire place smelt of sex and piss. Vi smiled at you sheepishly, “We got a little too carried away, huh cupcake?”

You whispered in her ear “Thank you for being in my life”, Vi smiled as she stroked your hair, “And thank you for being in mine.” You both smiled as she looked at the strap on kept beside, Vi laughed “You're crazy. How the hell did we end up doing this on a road trip?” You laughed loudly with your head resting on her shoulder “Well, I am in fact crazy, for you.” Vi poked your belly tickling and teasing you. “Not more than me.” She pulled you in for a deep kiss. Finally she reached out for her top, not bothering with her bra or panty she wore her grey top and pulled on her shorts. She hopped onto the passenger seat from the back. You took the time to clean the strap on and the seats with tissues. You wore your clothes and went back to the driver's seat. You looked at your passenger princess, “Next stop is the tandas I'm guessing.”

Vi laughed, “You know it.”

You giggled, “C’mon, it’s my fault for not waking you at the rest stop. We are only 20 minutes away from the next one.”

You got back into the driver’s seat and headed towards the next destination, eager to see what else awaited the two of you on the rest of your holiday.

Your peepee,

Admin Sav, San, Sar

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eldritch-spouse · 4 months

Note

Would Zips be alright if I took photos and made a catalog of all his plushies so I could keep track of them? And would the plushies cooperate with me too? I collect dolls in real life, and this is something I do with them too. I like to be very organized.

[ZIPS?! That's so good holy shit.]

Zizz doesn't quite care what you do with the plushies so long as you don't try to ruin them.

You can take pictures of the plushies, some of them will even pose for it! You're also able to rearrange them however you please.

However- Don't expect them to stay in the same place forever. They like to move around, and the pink yarn devil is one of the most active, constantly tumbling from place to place.

You could spend lots of time decorating a neat little shelf for all of them, most will eventually find their way back to Zizz's massive bed to lie around you and him.

It makes them sad to have to sit on shelves so far away!

#Zizz oc

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stoneworldsimp · 10 months

Text

episode 5

carmen berzatto x reader

warnings: i wrote this late at night and in a one n done draft. apologies if i have some misspellings/other. based on episode 5 of the bear

the lights are out, and there’s nobody in sight when looking through the window. a frown paints your face; you could have sworn carm was working today, he would have said something if he managed to get a day off. you walked against the wind, around the corner of the restaurant to see if anything was happening in the back.

there was.

multiple tables were set up in a three-sided square, each one having different set ups; one for assembling, one for prepping, and one for selling. that’s where the line was, and a girl was behind it, collecting money from each person that came to the front. i’m..99% positive that’s sydney. based on how he describes her. everyone else who worked at the beef was there, too, focused on a different task. a massive makeshift grill was made behind the tables, and multiple foil containers where on different shelves. all of it kept the food warm, of course.

in the midst of your skimming the area, you got in line and realized carmy still wasn’t there. you didn’t think he died or anything, but it still worried you that he wasn’t inside or outside of the beef. it hit you too late that you had made the front of the line, and sydney’s voice broke you out of your trance.

“‘scuse me..?”

“oh! sorry,” you said, startled. red as a tomato. hesitant to ask your initial question, you ordered a random sandwich, the only sandwich, you remembered on the menu. “i was wondering, do you know where carmen is?”

the magic words prompted the soft rev of a car engine behind you. you looked back and saw it park next to the grill, and carmy got out of the driver’s seat. hair disheveled with a pissed off look; you haven’t seen him in this light too often. honestly, it was pretty hot. he was in his own world, walking between the grill and tables when he said hello to sydney and walked through the back entrance to the kitchen.

richie saw you, though; he and his shit eating grin sauntered on over to where you were, and before a word left your mouth, he spoke to you.

“here to see your little boyfriend, huh?” he changed direction and speed-walked to the back door, calling out, “carmy, there’s someone special here for you outside! don’t be fuckin’ rude!”

“what the..” your focus came back to sydney, and she already had your sandwich wrapped and ready. she didn’t wipe off her previous expression fast enough; you caught it at the last second.

“shit, sorry. uhm.. uh, how much do i owe you again?” you struggled in looking for your wallet as she told you the price, and her eyes were very openly searching your entire being when she thought you didn’t notice.

bickering made its way outside, getting louder once carmy and richie both came back outside. carmy still looked pretty pissed off, eyes wide and angry in the moment.

his demeanor changed when he looked past richie and the rest; locking eyes with him always felt like the first time. a slight tightness tugged at your chest once he smiled, and he jogged to you as you got out of line.

“hi! i hope it’s ok that i came, i finally got some free time and wanted to—“

a kiss was planted right on your lips when he got close enough, right in front of everyone; it was quick but felt with your entire mouth. a hand wrapped around your waist.

“you came on such a fucking eventful day,” he laughed as he pulled away, and you laughed with him.

pulling you in a hug, your sandwich smushed between yours and his stomach. “thank you for coming,” he whispered in your ear, chin resting on your shoulder.

“of course,” you replied. you were the one to pull away this time, feeling his strong arms move around you again. he smelled like food, and although it sounds off-putting, you actually really liked it. weirdly enough, you enjoyed guessing what he made when he used to come home from his previous job, as much as he hated it.

with a loving gaze into his eyes, it hit you; they were watching you. not just sydney, but the entire kitchen, they were watching, listening while they kept taking orders. how the hell can they do that? a bashful feeling consumed you in a second, and with your head down you mumbled, “i wanted maybe one more kiss, i just didn’t feel the one this morning.”

“it was 3am and you were dead asleep, i didn’t want to fully wake you up on your day off,” carmy said. he put his hands on either side of your face, wordlessly asking you to look at him. “i guess it worked out nicely for us, anyway.” he gave you another kiss, the moment ending as richie started yelling once more to someone else. carmy broke the kiss and sighed. “i have to get back to work, but i’ll see you tonight, ok?”

you nodded. “see you at the house.” your hands slid across his arms to his hands, lightly removing them from your face. you brought them down and gave a gentle squeeze to one before letting go. “love you.”

carmy walked away, smiling one last time before turning his body back around. one look at his employees and you knew you were toast; you quickly spun on your heel back in the way you came and left. you suppressed an embarrassed laugh as you heard richie mimic carmy, “‘i have to work, but i’ll see you later, right?’ who the fuck are you, you fuckin’ sap? there should be no PDA allowed, cousin, this is a place where people eat…”

once you were finally home, sandwich a little cold from the chill in the air, you unwrapped an end and took a bite.

it was still delicious.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear x reader #the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white imagine #jeremy allen white

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moodymisty · 4 months

Note

Hiya! Could I request some Magnus / GN! Reader shenanigans? Like the reader is trying to learn a spell (to impress Magnus), does it by "The books are just guidelines anyways", and it works. Then they go to show Magnus and confusion hell breaks loose Blease and thankyou <3<3<3

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: Magnus time! I was actually working on something just like this, so this gave me the motivation to really spruce it up and finish it. But I really apologize because when I reread your request I realized I might've gone a bit less silly than you might've wanted. I hope you still enjoy.

Relationship: Magnus the Red/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None apart from this being my first time writing Magnus so please forgive me figuring him out I'm sorry if he feels off

Word Count: 1220

Sorcery is by it's very nature, finicky.

It has no solid answer, no yes or no. It's not as if it's a machine you can turn on or off, or a star you can see is alive or dead. It's an ebb and flow- something you feel.

But how do you feel something you've never felt before?

These tomes are largely nonsensical to you; The scribblings of madmen, words with no translation and sentences backwards.

You'd once again today attempted to make sense of it all, to tempt your better judgement that kept saying it maybe wasn't your most intelligent idea, but nothing has happened yet. So now you sit in bed, flicking through pages of tomes scattered across the blankets; Attempting to perhaps make enough sense of it and not bring anymore embarrassment to yourself than you already have.

In your fussiness you've already given yourself two different paper cuts, licking your wounds both physical and mental. You should probably be sleeping, the stars are out bright, and the wind gently raps against the windows as you study.

Magnus' tower is so ethereal, you look towards the window for a moment and see nothing but the midnight sky illuminating everything underneath it.

After thinking, you look back towards the oversized tome in your lap, lying on your thighs over top of a blanket. You'd picked many of the books not necessarily at random, but attempting to find the most basic of starting places from a collection that puts most others to shame. Magnus has many shelves up here, filled with his personal collection of tomes and scrolls. You sort've wish he was here to help guide you, but at the same time, you wish to surprise him to some degree.

You try just one more time, attempting to light a small ember in your palm. You follow every word exactly as the instructions- if you could call them that, and mange to hold it for only a few moments before it flickers away as if blown out by breath.

"Ugh!"

You drop your head, it coming quite close to hitting the pages of the tome.

"What is this?"

Your head suddenly whips upright, seeing Magnus himself standing in the doorway across the room. You don't know how you hadn't heard his footsteps, though you suppose you were far too distracted for your ears to prick to any other sound than what was right next to you.

Entering the room and closing the massive door behind him, Magnus takes in the scenery he's missed while aboard Photep, traveling the stars. After his quick glances he focuses on you cross legged in his bed, surrounded by opened and unopened books.

"Magnus!" He slowly walks closer to the beside, one finger brushes a tome he's clearly familiar with and opening it to a particular page; Glossing over it before he lets it gently fall back shut.

"Now, what are you concocting in that little mind of yours that requires so many spell tomes?"

Magnus watches amused as you close the book in your lap, legs cross underneath it and look at your slightly burned palm.

"I was trying to call fire. But it seems it's a bit harder than I thought." His smile fades a bit softer, watching your expression. The fabric of his robes is weaved with gold string that shines in the soft candle light.

"You seem to have had it, from what I saw."

You can feel his long red hair brush against your arm as he sits beside you, his massive height and weight difference forcing the appropriately massive bed to dip heavily to his side. It almost makes you roll, but you quickly adjust to prevent that. Now in your atmosphere it's a bit easier to look him in the eye, but you still have to crane your next a decent bit.

"I was following the tomes exactly like they said, and the best I can do is a little baby kindling. I'd have trouble even setting a letter alight."

You look up towards him, hands playing with the edges and filigree of the old, worn tome in your lap. Magnus speaks up, his tone curious and a bit surprised.

"Exactly?"

His eye glances down to the front cover of the tome in your hand, and recognizes that one instantly. With one hand, he gently reaches underneath the covers and gently clamps the tome shut, the top of his hand laying against your thighs before he pulls the tome towards his chest.

"Then you are taking it all far too literally." Perhaps the book shouldn't be written so literally then, you rebelliously think. He lays the tome aside, and uses the same hand to gently cup your jaw between his fingers and look up at him.

"it's far more of a feeling that anything, my love. If you keep just following the tomes, you might end up burning something down. Or as you've noticed, burning nothing at all." He lets out a laugh, feeling your cheeks move under his finger tips.

"I never thought you to be so studious in following directions. Perhaps you'd prefer Primarch Guilliman to myself?" You let out a harsh puff of air through your closed lips, making an insulting noise. Your hand grips his wrist and tries to pull it away, but to no avail, and instead you just grip the massive muscles of his arm and scowl.

"Funny."

He smiles wider. How you speak to him so casually now, compared to months ago. Perhaps his teasing makes it easier for you to forget who he is. He doesn't mind it.

A testament to your determination, you'd been able to cast something despite a lack of knowledge; But you could do well in having someone set you on the right path. Afterall, Magnus knows simply treating something with such an ebb and flow as sorcery as rules you can memorize will never bear any fruit.

Magnus can guide you, and truthfully, he would love for nothing more than to.

His sons don't need to be taught. They learn from his actions, and most are more than capable of progressing on their own and honing their own skills. To be able to teach his beloved something that is such a core part of himself, to guide your hand and your mind to touch something greater- he finds himself almost, dare he say excited.

He's rough on his sons, he knows they can take it. That they're built for sorceries and touching the warp. But with you he'll have to be gentle. The thought of it, to sit with you and show you wondrous things that your home planet kept from your eyes, he would start right now if not for one thing.

Magnus lets go of your jaw. He leans down and gently brushes a kiss against your temple, his fire red hair brushing against your skin again.

"Now, as much as I don't wish to part you from your reading, I have returned from Terra at my absolute wits end and desiring some rest." He smiles and vaguely gestures to the mess you've made of his bed during his absence. He can see other little messes throughout his chambers, as well.

"So my love, perhaps you could move your research, off the bed?"

#magnus the red x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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