#to be clear i love all these women i'm just curious

[meggannn]

#taskmaster #taskmaster au #to be clear i love all these women i'm just curious #this fandom is small on tumblr so reblogs appreciated to get more opinions #i also love that the show lets women be as goofy and weird and stupid as they want and even if we laugh at them it's all from a good place #i keep thinking about fern saying taskmaster is one of the most autism-friendly gigs she's ever had #polls

[ozarkthedog]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐃

summary: while doing a deal with Marc, Joel comes to collect your debt.

pairing: (mob enforcer!Joel Miller x afab!reader) x dealer!Marc Spector.

warnings: 18+ mdni. dub con -> read responsibly. alt universe. soft!dark. no physical descriptors of reader. power imbalance. threats. debt to the mob. weed. no m/m. oral sex (f&m). rough sex. dirty talk. spit roasting. shotgunning. aftercare. w.c. 4.2k

author's note: honestly, this started out as pure filth/pwp, then it turned into so much more. there is potential for multiple parts, mostly revolving around Joel x reader. don't hold me to it, but like i said, this took on a life of its own, and now i'm madly in love with mob enforcer!Joel.

huge thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta-ing and being such a wonderful, supportive friend.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐎𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞'𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

The carpet in your tiny living room was slowly developing a hole from your pacing back and forth. You love this apartment. Sure, the faucets drip, and the dingy wallpaper started peeling the day you moved in, but it was all yours. 

Since you moved to the big city after leaving home, you took any job you could find. You knew starting out on your own would be tough, but you could grin and bear it. Anything was better than small-town life. You wanted adventure, to see what the world had to offer.

What you didn’t plan on was getting involved with the wrong kind of people. 

When you fell months behind on rent, a co-worker mentioned she knew someone who could help. 

It was too good to be true, you thought, as you slowly walked into a smokey nightclub around midnight. Uptempo Spanish music played in the background as patrons drank at the bar, loudly singing and chattering. You tread deeper into the club, entering a VIP section where multiple gorgeous women sat on the laps of intimidating, finely dressed men in expensive suits. 

Various sets of eyes spot you the moment you cross the threshold, but only one set feels like they’re burning into your soul.

An unnerving man with piercing brown eyes holds your wary gaze. He’s draped in a long, brown leather coat, and streaks of gray pepper his temples. He stands to the side, leaning against the wall, and watches with intrigue as you shift nervously on your feet. 

His arms are crossed. A mustache tops his lips, which are etched in a permanent scowl as if he’s a dog that’s been kicked too many times. Still, he’s among the most handsome men you’ve seen since coming to the city.

He pushed off the wall with his broad shoulders, finally breaking his stare, and leaned down to whisper in the ear of a younger man seated at the head of the table, presumably his boss. 

“You need a little help, Sugar?” the younger man asked. 

His dark hair is a mess of curls, and his cheekbones look like they could cut glass. “I could use some help around the club. There’s always a gentleman in need of some company.” His fingers traced along a woman's nylon thigh as he looked you up and down. His coy lips tugged into a smirk as the group quietly laughed. 

The brown-eyed man's face grimaced at the younger man's tone. You want to curl in on yourself. The smoke in the air makes it hard to breathe. “Uh, no,” you start, tonguing your dry lips. “I just need to borrow some money.” 

The younger man purses his lips and nods. “That can be arranged. Joel here will take care of you.” He motioned to the older man on his right and looked you over with a curious gaze before waving you away.

Joel, the mob boss's right-hand man, meets you in the dingy alley behind the club. Water drips off the corner of the rooftop from the storm that blew through earlier in the day. A gust of cool fall air blows through, and you hug yourself to keep warm.

You learn that Joel was a no-nonsense man, straight to the point. Clear and precise.

He thrusts a heavy bag into your hands, and the leather handle creaks under the weight. “You sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?” he asks, lighting a cigarette. Orange hues lit his features sinisterly as if he were a demon or creature from hell's depths.

You stood your ground, but the tremble in your voice gave you away. “Yeah, I know what I’m doing.” 

Joel’s eyes go soft. It’s the first time he looks human since you first saw him. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, shaking his head. He blows a long gust of smoke from his nose. “He expects to be paid, with interest, by the end of the month.”

You teethe your bottom lip with a nod as nauseous worry swarms your belly.  

“I’ll be keeping an eye on you,” he states, thumbing at his lips. “Just so we know you haven’t run off with our money.”

Your eyes widen, and your knees slightly buckle. “No! I don’t plan on taking off. You don’t have to worry about that.” You trip over your words, frantically making sure he knows you won’t rip them off.   

He chuckles at the sight. It’s a deep, dark rumble from years of smoking and drinking, and it makes your cunt throb. “We don’t think you will, but it’s part of the job. Besides, having to keep track of such a pretty face ain’t so bad.” he muses, a light smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

An anxious, breathy laugh puffs from your chest. You hesitantly wring the leather handle as your eyes fall to the wet pavement.

A horn blares in the distance. Angry drivers yell into the night, breaking the perilous spell between you and the enforcer. 

“If you ever need help with anythin', let me know, okay?” he offers before turning on his heel and returning to the club.

“How will I contact you? With a bat signal or something?” You asked quizzically.

He chuckled again, and it set your heart on fire. “Just call the club and ask for me, sweetheart.”

You were truly and utterly fucked. 

It was the end of the month. Joel would arrive at 5pm to collect, and you had $50 measly dollars left in your bank account.

You’d squared up with your landlord and then some, paying for a few months in advance to show how grateful you were that he didn’t kick you out on the streets. What you didn’t plan on was getting fired from your job. You desperately tried to find another one, but you knew it was pointless as the end of the month slowly crept.

A knock on the door jars you from your thoughts. You scramble to open it, thankful your dealer was around today. You badly needed a smoke to curb your anxiety and impending doom.

Marc stands on your doorstep, beaming with his classic lopsided smile. “How’s it going?” He asks, making the short trip over to your couch, unbuttoning his long, black, and gray tweed coat before plopping down with a sigh. 

“Uh, fine,” you reply quickly. “You know. Same old.” 

“Same shit, different day, as I like to say.”  He scratches his trimmed beard with a coy grin. He looks really good today. Dark gray hair gelled and tousled. 

Nerves tug at your belly. You can taste the bitter doubt in the back of your throat.

Marc was a decent dealer. He let you start a tab when funds were low and gave you extra lighters and papers when needed. You knew to avoid crossing him, so what you had to do was extra tricky.

You sit on the floor across from him as he chucks a bag filled with joints onto the coffee table. Your body itches to feel the smoke burn your lungs.   

“Wanna hang for a bit? Smoke with me?” you offer, already reaching for the joint with a timid smile.

Marc quirks a brow. He digs his phone out of his tweed jacket and checks the time. “Uh, yeah, sure. I can hang for a bit.”

You try to light the joint, but the lighter won’t spark.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Marc asks, taking the lighter from your shaky hands. 

You silently nod and press the joint between your lips. Just as he lights the spliff, a knock sounds on your door.

You curse under your breath and hand the unlit joint to Marc. “Sorry. I’ll give whoever that is the boot.” He nods and sparks the joint, taking a long drag as you cross the distance to the door.

You yank open the door without thinking. “I don’t want anything you’re selli-”

“Hey there, Sweetheart,” a familiar, deep voice drawls.

You stand like a deer in headlights before the intimidating mob enforcer. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here so early. That’s the last time you open your door without checking the peephole.

“What’re you doing here, Joel?” you inquire, leaning in close so Marc doesn’t hear. "I have until tonight to give you the money."

The older man's leather jacket is pulled tight around his rugged shoulders as he leans in your doorway. His salt and pepper curls look damp as if you were his first stop after he got out of the shower.

“The boss has plans later and wants to ensure you're paid up.”

You wanted to scream. 

“This isn’t fair.” Your fists clench at your sides.

“That’s life, Sweetheart’.” Joel shrugs. “So, where’s the money?"

It takes every ounce of courage you have to stand your ground. 

“No. The boss said I had until 5pm, so I won’t give you anything until then. Now kindly, leave.”

You slam the door, but not quickly enough. A worn boot slides between the frame and the door, halting your escape.

“God dammit,” Joel fumes, shoving the door open, sending you flying back into your living room.

You catch yourself before you fall and watch as the enforcer makes his way into your sacred space. Now you know what it feels like to be on his wrong side. He kicks the door shut with his foot, ready to pounce, but freezes when he sees Marc.

“Miller.” Marc acknowledges from his laid-back position on the couch, joint pinched between his fingers.

Joel’s jaw twitches. “Spector.”

“So, what’s going on here?” Marc asks, gesturing with a curious wave. He then blows a lungful of smoke into the room and flicks bits of burning embers into an ashtray.

“None of your business,” Joel grits before focusing his attention back on you.

You do your best not to cower in front of the large man as he stalks closer. “You don’t want to make the boss angry.” He says, in an eerily calm voice, one that makes your hair stand on end. “Where’s the money?”

“I don’t have it.” You admit, barely louder than a whisper.

His jaw clenches hard. He shakes his head in disbelief, hands perched on his hips. His eyes grow scarily dark. "That’s not what I want to hear.”

“I don’t know what to say. I have a few dollars left in my account,” Your voice wavers.

Joel drags a heavy palm over his face and sighs. “What were you thinking? How were you going to pay him?” He hooks a thumb over his shoulder to your dealer.

“I, uh, I had a plan.” Your fingers wring at the seam of your shirt, and nausea swarms your belly.

Marc stands and finally joins the conversation. “Yeah, I’d like to know how you intended to pay me.”

You shift on your feet, eyes darting between the two more prominent and influential men. 

“I was going to offer to blow you.” The words tumble out so quickly that you wonder if they even heard you.

You wish the floor would open up and suck you in. It was bad enough that you had to resort to blowing your dealer, but now Joel was here to witness everything and most likely drag you to a certain death.

“For fucks sake,” the older man groans. 

Marc’s brow shoots into his hairline. He whistles as his eyes drag down your body. “You sure got yourself into a real jam here, huh?” He licks his bottom lip and steps closer. “I think something could be arranged, at least on my end. What about you?” He claps a hand on Joel's back, barely moving the powerhouse of a man. He was an enforcer, after all. This job wasn’t just for anyone. 

Joel shakes his head in dismay. His leather jacket creaks as he moves, lightning fast, quickly pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, Sweetheart.” He informs, “Since I’ve taken a likin’ to you, I’d hate to see you get hurt. I’ll pay off your debt.”

The heavy weight you’d dragged around for the last week falls from your shoulders. You didn’t realize you’d stop breathing until the sweet air rushed into your lungs.  

 “But,” he continues, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, “you’re going to pay me back in kind.”

The heaviness returns, except now you’re afraid the extreme weight will crush you.

Joel notices your racing thoughts. “Shh. No need to think,” he murmurs, letting his hand fall to your hip and making himself comfortable. “Just be grateful you’ve got to deal with only me and Spector.” 

His eyes are solemn and tender, lost in his thoughts; his gaze travels across your face. You raise a cautious hand to his chest, feeling his heartbeat under the smooth leather. That magnetic pull you felt the first time you met him pulsed through your veins again, and you think he felt it, too. 

Then, his features twisted with remorse. "This wasn't what I had in mind, but you've left me no choice, Sweetheart."

In a flash, Joel drags you across the worn floorboards and carelessly tosses you over the back of your couch. The air knocks from your lungs. Your ribs flash bright with pain. He moves too fast for you to protest and tugs your leggings off, throwing them across the small room. 

“Best get to work, Spector, if you plan on getting your end of the deal,” Joel threatens the dealer as he crouches down, giving himself a front-row view of your exposed cunt. 

“Let’s get a look at the goods.” His large, warm hands roughly spread your cheeks apart. “Fuck me. That’s a sweet looking pussy.” He drags a thumb up the slice of you, making your spine bow as your hands press into the cushions. “Already wet, too. My kinda girl.”

Unconsciously, you strike an elbow back, but an imposing figure grabs your flailing limb, halting your retaliation.

You forgot about the other man in the room. 

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t ever wonder how you’d look with my cock in your mouth,” Marc admits while fisting his length out. 

He’s half-hard and already intimidating. You stare up at him incredulously while he grasps his veiny girth and traces your tightly closed mouth with the weeping, dusky pink tip. He smears his pre-cum on your skin, marking you before he begins his corruption.

Joel smacks your ass hard, making you yelp and shoving you onto the dealer’s awaiting cock. You instantly gag as Marc's hips pitch forward once he feels your warm, wet mouth. He curses under his breath, cages your head between his hands, and begins sawing his cock back and forth over your tongue. 

His brute thrusts make you gag and spring tears to your eyes. “Come on now. Why the waterworks? This was your plan, after all,” Marc teases, patting your damp cheek.  

Without warning, Joel’s tongue dives into your heat. A blazing heat erupts in your belly as he licks from end to end, wild and ferocious, not stopping until he tastes every inch of you. 

You instinctively moan from the blissful arousal that begins to pulse from his treatment. He laves at your taint and tickles your untouched rosebud for a beat forcing your mind to somersault before traveling south to circle his tongue around your clit. 

“Could eat this cunt all damn day,” he slurs against your throbbing core like he's drunk off you. “God damn, s’fuckin’ delicious.”

Joel sucks the tiny button into his mouth, earning a whole body shiver as you writhe against the couch. He rubs his nose against your soaked folds, making sure to take deep breaths while he eats you alive. 

Marc leans to his left while he works his cock ruthlessly down your throat, making you sputter as the bulbous head prods your tonsils.

You hear a click. The sound of paper igniting and then a long, deep breath.

Marc leers down at you while holding the smoke in his lungs. He curls a hand around the back of your head and presses until the auburn wiry strands littering his girthy base tickle your nose. Then, he exhales, blowing a long, winding breath like a dragon down into your face. 

Your vision blurs from the vapor. The trapped oxygen burns your lungs, and your body quivers from your helpless position while you gag sickly around his cock. Joel winds his arms under your belly, keeping you steady as you thrash anxiously. 

When Marc finally lets you free, you sputter and suck down as much air as you can. A glossy strand of drool connects your lips to his throbbing cock. You sniff and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as his fat length bounces in your view. “You look fuckin’ wasted, Kitten.” He quips with a languid laugh and takes another hit. 

Joel stands behind you, knees cracking as he towers over your vulnerable body. You warily look over your shoulder when he grinds his against the soft skin of your ass.

You’re caught in his wretched stare like a deer in headlights. “Best hope this pussy fucks as good as it tastes,” he threatens, tapping his bulbous, weeping crown on your sticky folds.

Joel gives no warning before he steadily pushes his obscene length into your heat. Your jaw drops with a raspy wail, allowing Marc to fill your mouth again and mute your frantic moans. You feel every vein and girthy inch of Joel’s cock splitting you open, as well as Marc's, as he glides his thickness over your tongue.

It seems to go on forever until they bottom out harmoniously. Joel presses his hips against your ass, and his plush lips pull into a sneer as your core stretches to accommodate him. “Oh, Sweetheart. This cunt is practically chokin’ me.” He provokes with a ragged groan, rubbing his thumb along the glistening, excessively stretched skin that embraces his cock.

A high-pitched whine slithers from your throat before it’s quickly cut off by Marc snapping his pelvis. Joel licks his creamy thumb with a dark chuckle before caging your hips in his steely grasp. He sets a steady rhythm, entirely withdrawing before shoving his cock back in, giving you no reprieve as Marc continuously thrusts his dripping length between your spit-coated lips. 

Your body burns. Your mind is warped. Joel's cock keeps brushing against that spongy spot behind your clit. It's all too much. You feel yourself losing strength, giving in. Either from lack of oxygen to your brain or your greedy cunt that's feeding off their wretched pleasure. 

"You gonna come, Sweetheart? Can feel her milkin' me real good. Shit-" Joel hisses as your velvet walls squeeze him tight.

Both your holes lock around their cocks as you come. Your eyes roll back, your spine bending like a bow as the harsh wave of desire ripples through you. 

Both men curse at the sight and feel of you. 

It shouldn’t feel this good being used and tossed around like a toy, but a thick, syrupy heat steadily gathers in your belly. With your head in the drug-induced clouds, every illicit touch sends you higher into a euphoric atmosphere.

“Wanna hit?” Marc offers, holding the joint between his fingers to the enforcer.

Joel finally tears his eyes away from where he’s spearing you open. He nods, stilling his hips, and extends a hand before pressing the joint between his lips. He takes a long drag before splaying his broad body over yours. 

You notice him in your peripheral as he watches you choke down Marc’s cock. “What a fuckin’ sight,” he drawls, joint bouncing between his lips. “Swallowin’ his cock like your life depends on it.” He roughly drives his hips forward, his leaky crown cruelly kissing your cervix, making you gag from the agonizing bliss. “Kinda ironic that it does.” 

You feel their cocks pulse in unison when you start writhing at Joel’s threat. You knew they wouldn’t hurt you, but the thought was too much to bear in your current state. They quickly make work of your flailing limbs; Joel grabs the back of your neck with a heavy paw, and Marc traps both your hands in his own, caging them against his stout stomach.

They set a brutal pace. You no longer feel in control of your body as they use you to get off. The room echoes with the sounds of gluttony, like feral animals staking their rightful claim on lowly prey. 

Marc comes with a growl, caging your head between his hands as you push against his abdomen, and fucks his salty release into your mouth. He collapses onto the couch with a ragged sigh, his engorged cock a shiny mess as he catches his breath. 

“Gotta get used to this, sweetheart,” Joel gloats in your ear, working an arm around your collarbone to pull you back onto his cock, forcing you to meet every one of his brutal shoves. “Your pretty pussy is gonna be ruined by the time your debt is paid in full.” 

Marc cups your jaw in one of his hands and takes a puff of his joint. He slides a thumb between your sticky, come coated lips and blows the smoke into your mouth. You gladly inhale, letting the drug work its magic. Joel grabs your hips and picks up his speed, greedy for his pleasure. 

He comes with a gruff, dark groan, snapping his hips hard against your ass until he's buried to the hilt and pumping his sticky load into your fluttering core. 

You collapsed onto the cushions once Joel let go of your hips, your body too weak and drugged to care to move despite your vulnerable state.

“We’re square, Kitten.” Marc grazes your cheek with his knuckles, and a sly grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “But anytime you want a hit and can’t pay, I’ll be more than happy to help you out,” Marc quips before silently nodding at Joel and leaves with a bounce in his step.

"Come're, Sweetheart." Large hands slide under your belly and help you stand on your feet. His eyes soften as he looks over your puffy eyes and swollen, slick coated lips. He cups your cheek and sighs through his nose. "Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?"

A rush of water hits your ears as Joel turns the shower faucet. You stand behind him like a child waiting for their next instruction before he turns back to you with a slight smile.

"Up and over. That's it," Joel says, ensuring you don't bump your elbows as he removes your shirt, folds it, and places it on your vanity. He helps you step into the shower before he sits on the toilet lid and watches you through the clear plastic curtain. 

Silence falls over the tiny bathroom as he lets you take solace under the stream.

You melt in the warmth. It eases your aches and dulls your overwrought senses. You stay there until your skin prunes and icy cold water pours from the tap.

He helps you step out of the tub, ensuring you're on solid ground before grabbing a towel hanging on the wall and wrapping you in the soft cotton. 

"You'll stay with me until your debt is paid," he said, resting his hands on your shoulders; the weight keeps you grounded as your world turns upside down.

"You won't have to worry about anythin'," he continues, carefully drying your body with a tenderness you didn't expect. "I'll pay your rent, so you still have this place when our transaction is complete." 

You know you should be upset. A screaming, raging mess but seeing such a dangerous man on his knees drying water droplets from your body makes you lightheaded with alarming power.

He stands when you don't outwardly react. His lips are pressed into a worried, hard line, his hands are perched on his hips, and a sharp brow wrinkles his forehead. "Okay?"

The vexation that laces his tone snaps you out of the dumbstruck fog. You knew there was only one right answer.

“Yes,” you rasp, defeated. 

He smirks, softly chuckling under his breath at your submission.

"I'll be back in a few hours," he says, cupping your jaw like he's drinking from a stream; God knows what brutality those hands have dealt out. "I trust you'll still be here when I get back." 

You nod quickly under his grave stare. 

He plants a searing kiss on your lips, making you gasp. It's dominating and possessive, like he's christening the start of your new life together by licking into your mouth and claiming you. 

He breaks the kiss with a grunt and nudges your nose with his own. "Thatta girl." 

He holds your gaze as he slowly walks backward out of the room. "Pack enough for the next week. I'll swing by later to get the rest," he instructs before turning and walking out your door.

You're left standing in your tiny bathroom, panting like a newborn fawn. Your legs wobble as you move to sit on the toilet lid and clutch the towel tighter to your chest; heart smashing against your ribs.

Joel was right. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

*if you'd like to read more about Joel and reader's new life together, please invade my inbox about them! it helps motivate me!*

->reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated!<-

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector x you #pedro pascal #oscar isaac

[foxigemini]

A New Beginning (Orm Marius x Fem!Reader)

Summary: Orm finds a new life on the surface.

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Breeding Kink, Creampie.

Author's notes: Watching Aquaman The Lost Kingdom and my beloved Orm again hit me with a wave of inspiration. Can't believe it's been five years since I last wrote about him. I know this won't get many notes, cause he isn't a very popular character, but I don't care. I finally got some inspiration again.

Standing on the balcony, you looked across the green landscape and smiled as Orm wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" he murmured into your neck as he placed feather-light kisses on your skin.

Blushing, you leaned your head to the side and sighed blissfully as his lips traveled down your skin and you started reminiscing about how you met.

"Here you go, Sir."

You put down the cheeseburger in front of Orm and he looked up at you with those curious, blue eyes you'd grown accustomed to seeing every day. Eyes that made your belly flutter from the first day he looked at you.

"Thank you, y/n," Orm said and smiled. "And I've told you. Please, call me Orm."

You smiled shyly and fluttered your eyes down as you nodded. "You know, Orm. You've come here every day for a month now, eating the same thing. How on earth do you stay in such good shape?"

Orm shrugged his shoulders. "Good metabolism, I guess."

You let out a soft chuckle and walked away to the next table. Orm watched as you worked, jealous of the other men receiving that beautiful smile of yours. It wasn't just the cheeseburger pulling him back here every day. Ever since that first day you served him, he had been lost in your smile. At first, he hated you for it, hated himself for allowing a human to have this power over him. But over time, he came to like these humans and their ordinary life. You humans weren't so bad after all. And you...Orm wetted his lips. Should he muster the courage to ask you out? Orm frowned. When did he become so shy and uncertain of himself? When he was King, he had no problem getting women. Or perhaps, the true reason for that was because he had been King...

You took a deep breath and smoothed down your apron as you looked over at Orm's table. You studied the short, soft curls on his neck, imagining running your fingers through them...Your eyes landed on his broad shoulders and arms, wondering what he looked like underneath his clothes. You lowered your gaze and a shy smile grazed your features. You wanted to ask him out so badly, but wasn't sure he felt the same way about you. Sure, he had given you looks indicating that he did. But who knew? You'd definitely been wrong about these things in the past. Perhaps, you were being delusional? After all, what would a handsome man like him see in you?

"Y/n?"

You were drawn back to reality by Orm's voice. You fluttered your eyes and looked up at him, pushing your thoughts to the back of your mind. You smiled and cleared your voice.

"Yes?"

"I..." Orm looked down at the floor and rubbed the back of his head. He almost looked...nervous?" "I was wondering, if you would like to go out with me sometime?"

A pang of heat washed over you and you stared at the man in front of you, your eyes blinking slowly as if time slowed down. Orm saw the look in your eyes and knew he'd made a terrible mistake.

"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"I would love to go out with you!"

It was Orm's time to stare at you, his mouth half-open in shock.

"Really?"

You nodded and smiled. "Really."

Orm's hands traveled down your stomach and slid underneath your nightgown, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers ran across the thin fabric of your underwear. His touch sent a warm spark of arousal through your clit. Moaning softly, you leaned back against his warm, naked chest, your hips bucking gently against his hand, searching for the pleasure you knew was waiting.

"I want a child with you, y/n," Orm whispered and pushed his fingers underneath your panties, groaning when he felt how wet you already were for him. His cock twitched in response, growing hard inside his pajama pants. He loved how in tune your body was with his, always responding so delightfully to his touches.

Your heart leaped at his words, making you unaware of the pleasure his fingers were rubbing on your clit. Turning around, you cupped his face and looked into his kind, blue eyes.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your sparkling eyes betraying your happiness. You knew he would be an amazing dad, but you never knew if the family life was something he wanted. Not until he'd asked you to marry him. Then you had hope that someday he wanted to have children with you.

"Yes. I've never been more certain about anything in my entire life," Orm said and grabbed your legs, lifted you up, and wrapped them around his waist. Truth be told, seeing Arthur with Mera and their son had awakened a longing in him. And he swore to be the kind of father he never had, a caring, loving dad who would do anything for his family.

Orm carried you silently into the bedroom and dropped you down onto the bed, his eyes burning with an intense passion you hadn't seen in him before as he looked intensely into your eyes. Your eyes traveled down his muscular body. Damn, you would never get used to how incredibly well-shaped his body was. He looked like one of those ancient God statues carved in marble.

Orm couldn't control himself anymore, the sight of the shape of your tempting breasts and hard nipples beneath the fabric of your silk nightgown making his dick twitch greedily.

"I will fill you up so many times you'll be dripping for days and my child is growing inside your belly," he grumbled through his tensed jaw and ripped your underwear off of you.

"Orm?!" Your eyes widened as you stared up at your husband, your lower belly filling with an uncontrollable, pulsing heat. What was up with him? You'd never seen him like this before.

Orm only growled and pulled his pants down, his gaze never leaving yours as he stepped out of the pants and crawled on top of you. He grabbed your legs and pushed inside you in one swift movement, making you gasp and clutch onto his lower arms. Orm groaned at your tightness and started thrusting into you deeply at a hard, relentless pace.

"Fuck!" you moaned in a breathy gasp, your nails digging into Orm's arms as he pounded you so roughly that the bed rocked and creaked. His cock hit that sweet spot deep inside you, creating a wave of pleasure searing through your core at every thrust. Feeling the force of an overwhelming orgasm approaching, you tilted your head back, your lips slightly parted as you closed your eyes and surrendered to the sensations flowing through your body.

Orm looked down at the pleasured expression on your face as he thrust into you, felt the tightening of your walls, and knew you were close. Straightening up on his knees, he grabbed your hips and thrust even deeper inside you, his breath quickened and chest glistening with sweat.

You gasped when Orm changed his position, and his thrusts grew harder and deeper. Opening your eyes, you looked up into his eyes filled with so much want and need.

"Please, Orm...fill me up. Put a baby in my belly," you whispered through his pounding thrusts.

Orm's eyes widened and darkened at your words, and you could feel his cock swelling impossibly big inside you.

"Fuck...," Orm grunted quietly and thrust faster until he pumped into you a final time, emptying his full load inside you. Throwing his head back, he growled as his hips bucked erratically, pumping every drop of seed he had to offer deep inside your belly.

"Oh, Orm...," you moaned as he came inside you, his swelling cock pushing you over the edge of climax. Lifting your hips, you cried out with pleasure as you clenched around him, your pussy milking his cock like a vice.

Looking down, Orm watched as his cock twitched inside you, filling you up with every last drop until you were full, and it began to drizzle out around his cock still lodged inside of you. The erotic sight made him rock hard again, his dick swelling inside your still twitching walls.

Your eyes widened when you felt his cock swell inside you, and a new wave of arousal spiked through your belly. Your pussy clenched in response, and Orm smirked down at you, an amused chuckle rumbling through his chest.

"I love you, y/n."

Smiling back, you cupped his face. "I love you too, Orm."

Orm quirked an eyebrow and smirked anew. "Ready for round two?"

You giggled softly and pulled him down for a kiss. "Always."

Thank you for taking your time to read ♡

#orm marius x reader #orm marius x you #orm marius smut #orm marius #king orm x reader #patrick wilson #orm marius fanfiction #aquaman the lost kingdom #aquaman fanfiction

[forfucksakesniall]

Protective Daddy

Pairing: Dad!Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: Lewis and his partner decide to reveal their pregnancy to the world.

Word count: 889

After Lewis announced your pregnancy on Instagram, everyone's questions and assumptions have been answered.

A picture of your ultrasound and your belly with his face squished next to it.

Lewis is known for his private lifestyle, but he has recently felt the need to address rumors and accusations that have been circulating about him. Speculation has arisen regarding his involvement with certain models and allegations of cheating, including taking them back to hotels, among other things. However, none of these rumors are true, and Lewis felt it was time to clear the air.

On the other side of all that nonsense, you and Lewis have been together for a while now, five years to be exact. He has done some pretty good work on keeping things on the down-low. People knew who you were, but not enough to make too much noise. They knew you guys were dating; you've been seen in a few of the races and even outside the tracks.

But in these few months, people noticed your absence in some of them, and that's how the rumors started bubbling.

Lewis was seen with some people on and off the tracks due to mutual friends, but this caught the attention of paparazzi and gossip sites. As a result, people are slowly assuming that you either broke up or he was cheating.

During all the commotion, you were in Monaco, living the life in Lewis’ apartment. You were laying down on the bed, enjoying your pregnancy cravings.

However, after one too many instances of sneaking your hands into the cookie jar, Lewis caught you red-handed.

“Lew, can I please have one more cookie?” you asked with wide, begging eyes.

"Don't you think you've had enough?" he replied, taking the jar off the nightstand. You, already on edge from your hormones, did the only logical thing and start pouting.

"But..." your voice trailed off.

As you looked up at him then down at your belly, Lewis sighed, "Fine..."

“I love you, Lewis,” you said.

With a small hint of amusement in his voice, Lewis replied, "Are you just saying that because you want the cookies back?"

"No," you answered.

"Then what, my love?" he teases you. "Because if you don't have a good reason, I'm taking this back." while he holds the jar hostage.

"Because.... you.. are... such a good daddy to our baby for giving his mommy what she needs," you replied.

Lewis unable to hide the smile from spreading across his face.

"I'm the best daddy that our little one could have ever asked for," he agreed, leaning down to plant a quick kiss on your cheek.

"So, what about that cookie now?" you asked.

"Hmm..." Lewis hummed in thought, his lips pursing as he pondered his answer.

"You know, maybe one more cookie wouldn't be so bad for mummy," he eventually conceded.

"Of course not," you replied happily.

While you enjoy your last cookie for today, Lewis is on his phone, and his face is obviously distraught.

"What is it?" you ask.

Still not looking at you, Lewis replies, "What is what?"

He seems annoyed whatever was on his phone and is waiting for you to elaborate.

"I know that look. What's wrong?" you ask.

With a sigh, Lewis finally looks over at you and runs a hand at the back of his neck. He pauses before answering.

"I've been reading these... rumors. People have been saying that I'm seen with other women and that we aren't together anymore."

"Well... were you with other women?" you ask.

With a sigh, Lewis leans back against the bed, crossing his arms across his chest. He seems to ponder your question before replying.

"No, I haven't been with other women."

After a moment, he continues, "At least... not in a physical sense. There have been some... conversations with other women, but nothing that should be considered cheating."

"Hmm," you say, curious.

After a few moments of silence, Lewis finally speaks to you again.

"Do you believe them?"

You smile at him. "Of course not. I think it's just that people don't know about my pregnancy, so now they're making up some weird rumors."

Lewis nods slowly, his expression softening as you reassure him.

"Good, my love," he says, using the affectionate term. "Let them talk. They don't know the truth."

Lewis then moves closer to you and wraps his arm around you.

"You and I... we know what is really happening."

"Yeah... but it bothers you," you say.

Lewis is quiet for a moment, then replies, "Of course it does."

He sighs and pulls you a bit closer to his larger frame.

"I may not show it, but I care very much about you, and what people say about us matters to me."

"I know, babe," you say, cradling his face and leaning in for a kiss.

Lewis smiles slightly and gently responds to your kiss, wrapping his hands around your waist.

He pulls you into his embrace, his lips gently pressing against yours while one of his hands rests on your stomach.

Lewis pauses for a moment as though contemplating something.

"I think we should tell everyone that you are pregnant with our child," he says softly.

He seems to be thinking about the consequences of such a public reveal.

"It's a big step, but it would stop the rumors in their tracks..."

"Are you sure?" you ask.

"I want it to be official. Not just between us, but for everyone else to know as well," he says.

Lewis's arms tighten around you.

"You are carrying my child, and I want the world to know," he whispers.

"Okay then," you say.

"Let's go tell the world about our little one," he says sweetly.

With one last kiss, Lewis pulls back and smiles at you.

#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton blurb #sir lewis hamilton #f1 fandom #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #dad!lewis hamilton

[cuubism]

based on THIS shitpost. nsft below the cut. inexplicably 7k.

--

Dream had promised Hob, since reuniting, since agreeing to see each other more often, that he would let Hob introduce him properly to human experiences. "It'll do you good," Hob had said. Dream thinks Death would agree with this also. He is now wondering, however, if this had been folly.

"I think I've given you the general rundown now," Hob says, leaning back in his chair, swirling his bottle of beer—mostly empty—idly in one hand. "The highlights. We'll be here for ages if you want to hear all of it."

Dream is surprised to realize he is curious to hear the stories of all of Hob's lovers. But he does not feel it is quite appropriate to press, no matter how open Hob has been in speaking of it. Dream is most interested, after all, in people Hob has loved, not just those he's had carnal relations with—stories of love are of much more interest to him than stories simply of desire, and Hob has already relayed these stories to him, each a glimmering jewel on the long chain of his life.

Each sticks in Dream's mind now, glittering in his peripheral vision. He cannot tell precisely what they want of him—the corners of his being are blurred, his thoughts wavering, at points clear and ringing and at others indistinct. A consequence of allowing alcohol to affect him, at Hob's bidding. It is... pleasant. Loose. Warm. Though Dream thinks, anywhere outside of Hob's flat, it would feel disconcerting instead.

It's this folly in allowing Hob to ply him with wine, perhaps, that has him saying, "Do you wish to hear of my own?"

Hob's expression sharpens. He is, perhaps, less drunk than Dream is, despite being on his fourth beer, while Dream has only had— ah. That bottle of wine is three-quarters empty. Hmm. "You mean, you want to talk about it?"

"I believe it is customary for friendship to involve a mutual sharing of stories?"

"Sure, if you want to." Hob's gaze on him is intent, curious, but still fond, always fond. "Usually you're like this." He draws his fingers across his lips in a zipping motion. "So of course I'm curious."

"Am I so reticent?" Hob is right, though. Dream can acknowledge it. He would not usually care to speak of these things. He could blame the wine, today. But.

Hob laughs. "Took me six hundred thirty-three years to get a name. You are the king of reticence." He dips his head as if bowing to this "king." "I would be honored to hear your stories, my friend."

Dream tucks his nose into his glass. He should perhaps not drink any more, but the smell is still pleasant, rich and sharp. "They are not so happy."

"Still. If you want to tell."

Dream is not like Hob. He does not have casual dalliances. Each collision was as bright as a falling star. He doesn't know if he has the strength, now, to relay all that terrible history.

Instead, he shares with Hob the early days of burning. Each of those bright, glowing moments. And glosses over the fall.

He thinks Hob sees it, though. He considers him from under his brows as Dream speaks, understanding in his eyes. Doesn't ask him about it, perhaps sensing that Dream does not have the wherewithal for telling and asking in the same evening. "Thank you," he finally says.

"Why?"

"For sharing."

Dream looks back down at his glass. It's empty again. Perhaps that is for the best. It is not often that he... shares. Particularly about this. But Hob is generous in not prying. In wanting to listen, for the simple sake of, as far as Dream can tell, understanding Dream.

When he looks up again, Hob is tapping the mouth of his beer bottle against his lips in thought. "Can I ask you something? It'll probably be utter silliness to you, though. Being this... beyond human entity that you are."

Dream's shoulders tense where they'd gone relaxed with drink and Hob's company. "Go ahead."

"Were all of your lovers women?"

And Dream relaxes again. Ah. This is just... factual. Not... digging in to his many relational failures. "I suppose. Yes."

"Is that by design, or...?"

Dream frowns. "I do not... understand."

"Well, since we've established that I'm an indiscriminate slut—" always so crude, but something about the click of Hob's tongue makes Dream shift uncomfortably in his seat on the couch— “I was wondering whether you were the same way." Then he winces. "Not the slut part. The indiscriminate part."

"Do you mean to ask if I care about the gender or sex of my lovers?"

"Yep. Knew I should have just been straightforward with you."

Dream thinks about it. He has never made a pattern of his relationships, the way humans do. He simply... does what his foolhardy heart commands. Usually with poor results. "I suppose I do not. Care, that is. But. My lovers have been women, yes."

Hob tilts his head. There's a new gleam in his eyes, now. He goes to finish his beer, but it’s empty. Dream watches the drag of his lips over the mouth of the bottle.

"Does that surprise you, Hob Gadling?" he asks. "That my amorous pursuits have been so much narrower than yours?"

"Mmm. Little bit? It's just, even if I hadn’t—how can I put it politely—fucked my way across half of London already by the time we met, I can't imagine making it six hundred years without ever at least experimenting?" He grins. "I could be straight as a nail and curiosity alone would've got me in some bloke's bed at least once. Hmm. Maybe three times just to be sure."

"It is good that you cannot die, for I believe curiosity would have sounded your death knell twenty times over by now."

Hob raises his bottle in Dream's direction. "True, that." Then he leans forward on his knees, eyes bright with, of course, curiosity. "But weren't you ever curious?"

"I contain the collective memory," Dream reminds him. "All fantasies. And dreams. If I need to understand an experience, I can simply consult that breadth of knowledge. I do not need to 'wind up in some bloke's bed.'"

Hob's leaning so far forward now he might come toppling off his chair. "But do you wanna?"

Dream frowns. "I do not..."

"Do you want to experience it yourself, though?" Hob repeats. "Cuz I could watch porn—" Dream wrinkles his nose at this crude analogy for his relationship to his dreams, but the offense is swiftly banished as Hob continues— “but that's not the same as—” his hand lands on Dream's wrist, fingertips pressed to where he would have a pulse— "that."

Dream freezes. Under Hob's fingers, his heart jumps once, quick as a mouse.

"I've no doubt you understand it, Dream," continues Hob, and perhaps he had drunk less than Dream had thought, for he seems very lucid now, "but that's not the same as being there."

Dream fixates on where they are touching. His skin feels very hot, at that point. "And what. Is being there like?"

Hob's fingers slip a little higher, just under the sleeve of his coat. He is still wearing his coat, yes, why is that? He feels very warm. "Could find out?"

"Are you suggesting I should find some man to bed me?"

"Some man," Hob repeats, jaw working. His gaze is hovering somewhere around Dream's collar. "Some man who knows what he's doing, yeah."

"And..." an echo of a breath is frozen in Dream's lungs. Some instinct saying, be still. A pulse at his elbow, in his thigh, at his throat. Hob still has his wrist pinned. "Do you know what you are doing, Hob Gadling?"

"Never in my life," says Hob, and leans in and kisses him.

He has to get out of his chair to do it. Has to lean down over Dream, taking Dream's cheek in his hand. Has to tip Dream's head back, and sweep his tongue into his mouth from above, or perhaps Dream only tells himself that he has to rather than acknowledge that it is Dream himself baring his throat, opening his mouth to Hob's.

If he wished to know what it was like to be kissed by a man, now he knows: strong and lingering and hungry. Or perhaps that is just Hob Gadling. Hob's stubble brushes his cheeks. He can smell Hob's cologne, rich and sweet like whiskey. He wraps a hand around the back of Hob's neck so he can't pull away far.

Hob's eyes are heavy-lidded when he looks at him. Dream touches his own lips, and Hob follows the movement. "I'm not certain I understand," Dream says. "This is not enough data to make a determination."

"Definitely not," says Hob, and kisses him again, pushing him into the back of the couch. The strength of his hands sends fire racing all the way up Dream's spine, curling around his neck, burning in the tips of his ears. He bites experimentally at Hob's lower lip, and Hob groans low in his throat.

"We're not—" Hob pulls away, lips shiny and wet, "we're not doing this here. Come on."

He stands upright again, and Dream will deny to the end of the universe the dissatisfied sound he makes when Hob's warmth leaves him. Hob smiles, soft and fond now, and takes his hand. "Come on, love."

Love.

Some man, Dream thinks, as he lets Hob pull him up. Join some man in bed. As he follows Hob down the hall to his bedroom. For curiosity's sake. As Hob kneels to help pull off his boots. Just to understand. As Hob divests him of his coat.

Experimental.

"You're so buttoned up." Hob smoothes his hands over Dream's shoulders, his bare arms under his t-shirt. "Let me know if it's too much, okay?"

"Yes." Too much, yes, it is too much, to see Hob look at him like that, with care and with hunger, for Hob to touch him gently, it makes his skin prickle, his cheeks heat, his throat terribly dry. It is too much; he will not tell Hob to stop.

I want to understand, Dream thinks. I want—

Hob smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Come on, then."

Hob is already barefoot, being less guarded than Dream, and he leads Dream up onto the bed. Dream follows, chasing his hands, and Hob does not deprive him. He leans against the headboard and lets Dream settle in his lap, immediately framing his face again between his palms. For the sake of learning, Dream pushes all the dreams of this aside, so that it is just him and Hob. New. Theirs.

He looks into Hob's eyes, very close now, and he feels light, floaty, good. Perhaps the wine was a bad idea. Perhaps it was right.

"What d'you want, darling?" Hob asks. Brushes his lips to the corner of Dream's mouth. "Tell me. This is for you, after all."

Yes. For Dream. A scientific exercise, he must remember. It will help him... understand. It will help him create more vivid dreams. That is all.

He can feel Hob's growing erection pressing against him. His own jeans growing tight. "I would like. The full experience."

Hob laughs, but it's a friendly laugh, not at his expense. Dream can recognize that, now. "There's no full experience. Sex counts as sex if you say it does. But if you're trying to say penetration, we can do that."

Dream shivers at the word penetration, sitting so matter-of-factly on Hob Gadling's tongue. "Yes. I believe that is what I meant."

"Alright." Hob may be matter-of-fact, but he does not sound unaffected. His voice has gone rough, his eyes dark, a flush along his cheeks. His hands fall from Dream's face to brace his hips, thumbs sweeping under the hem of Dream's shirt to touch his skin.

But he doesn't push Dream down into the mattress. Instead he pulls Dream closer by the hips, saying, "C'mere then," and Dream goes back to his mouth. Sinks into Hob's kiss, and the searing heat of his hands on Dream's hipbones. It's different. It's already different. But he can't yet determine if it's different because Hob is a man, or because he is Hob.

Hob, who has been a friend to him even when he couldn't recognize it. Who wants him to enjoy things. Wants to share with him.

Hob pushes Dream's shirt up over his head. Dream has not been bare in front of someone since his escape, but he doesn't think he minds, when it's Hob. When it means he gets Hob's broad, strong hands on his back, pulling him close, and Hob's lips on his shoulder, the crook of his neck, kissing and leaving marks.

"You know, once upon a time I thought you were above all this," Hob murmurs. He touches Dream's belly, his chest, his neck, holding lightly. "You were so... untouchable. Couldn't imagine you lowering yourself to engage in such—” he bites at Dream's earlobe— “such base activities."

"'Untouchable,' Hob Gadling?" Dream says. Hob's hands are cradling his throat now. Hob catches his point and flexes his fingers; Dream swallows under the grip.

"Always wanted to know," Hob murmurs, "if anyone'd touched you at all."

Not in a very long time, it is true. Dream burns with it, now, everywhere Hob touches him is alight. "What would you have done with an answer?"

"Dared," says Hob. "I expect."

"Always daring," Dream says. Indulges himself and slips his own hands under Hob's shirt, feels out his stomach, his hair, his back, all the strong lines of him. Hob's shoulders are pleasing, and his hips where Dream squeezes with his thighs, and these are not things Dream has thought of much, before. He wants to see more. To feel more. "Daring to be the first man to have me."

"Don't say things like that if you want me to keep my sanity." The words are rough like Dream has reached in and touched him instead of just spoken, and Hob's chest rises and falls heavily under Dream's hands.

"Maybe I don't."

This makes Hob chuckle, and Dream feels the rumble of it through his body. He wishes there was not the barrier of their clothes to dampen it; more than seeing Hob, he wants to feel Hob, his skin is prickling with it, his mouth is tacky and dry with it.

"How do you want me?" he asks, and whatever change Hob hears in his voice has him stiffening up, going serious. Dream doesn't know how he feels about it—he enjoys Hob's ease and laughter, but the intensity is... he feels it like a touch.

"How do you want to be had?" Hob counters, and before Dream can contemplate the myriad possible answers, adds, “Do you want to be? Is that what you meant? Only I would have thought— but then again—”

Dream does not interrogate the rambling path of Hob's assumptions. He says, "I would like to know. What I have not. Personally. Experienced, yes."

Daydreams poke at Dream's awareness as the image flashes through Hob's mind. Dream doesn't touch them, but the awareness of their existence alone has him shifting where he straddles Hob's lap. Hob's cheeks darken, and he says, "Strangest way anyone's ever asked me to fuck them. Yeah, alright. Budge up, love?"

Love. Again. Dream climbs off Hob's lap, kneeling beside him as Hob strips off his own shirt, flinging it somewhere--Dream doesn't see, for he is looking only at Hob. The solidness of him, where Dream often feels made of wind; the warmth of his belly, where Dream touches him, while Dream himself often feels cold. So made of earth, Hob Gadling.

Hob lays a hand on Dream's chest as if to push him down to the bed. No strength behind the touch, but the impression of it. "Need you to tell me if it starts going wrong. I'm serious, Dream."

Despite himself, Dream bristles. “You think me incapable of conveying my displeasure?”

Hob huffs. “I think you’re just prideful enough not to. Just be direct with me. You don’t have to prove anything.”

Perhaps... Hob is not entirely wrong. “…I shall," Dream vows at length. Hob nods, and smiles at him again, that warm smile. Dream can’t help but feel pleased to have made him smile so. Hob pushes, and Dream goes, lies back against the pillows, and Hob kneels between his legs. Hands sliding again to his hips, to the waistband of his jeans. Dream watches with fixation, caught on Hob's fingertips.

Hob has apparently decided he does trust Dream to interrupt if he doesn't like something, for he doesn't ask again before unbuttoning Dream's jeans. But Dream can tell Hob is still paying close attention to his reactions, and it's heady to be attended to so.

He lifts his hips for Hob to pull off his jeans, and then gets to bask in a look he can only interpret as adoring. Hob looks upon him that way, and strokes up and down his thighs, over his hips and belly. Dream's skin jumps at the touch.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Hob says, sounding wounded by it. "Everyone who sees you must go home wishing you were going with them, I refuse to believe otherwise."

Dream smiles, despite himself. "This may be a particular bias of yours, Hob."

"Yeah, maybe. I'm right, though." He leans down, hovers over Dream, kisses him. Dream pulls him down so their bodies are pressed together. Hob's skin is so warm, his hair softer than expected, the fabric of his jeans a rough counterpoint where it scratches Dream's inner thighs, rubs against his cock lying hard in the crook of his hip. A wealth of sensation. A pleased, wanting sound escapes him, before he can stop it—but Hob catches it, looking delighted to do so, kisses it right out of Dream's mouth. "You've left broken hearts in your wake. Still can't believe this is your first time doing this."

"Revel in that victory if you must."

"No victory," says Hob. "Only privilege."

And he kisses Dream again even as he works a hand between them, takes Dream in his grip. Dream gasps at the touch, breaking the kiss. Hob's hand is warm and rough and very sure, and Dream can't help the way his whole body tenses with that simple touch.

He feels Hob's smile against his cheek. His voice drips with satisfaction. "Are you sensitive?"

Dream does not get a chance to answer. Hob strokes him again, hums as Dream bucks up involuntarily into his grasp.

"Oh, I'm going to make you feel so good," Hob muses, his voice a warm rumble in Dream's ear. "I know I can. You deserve it."

"Hob—"

Hob kisses his own name out of Dream's mouth, a deep, biting kiss, and this confidence, rather than being offensive to Dream's station, is riveting. Dream feels spelled.

"Just let me take care of it," Hob says, and moves away, and Dream groans at the loss of his body heat.

"You will take what you want now?" Dream complains, knowing full well even as he says it that it is nonsense. But having Hob's touch and then losing it is making him insensate; truly, he had not thought he could fall so far. "Is that what this is, Hob Gadling?"

Hob chuckles. "Oh, no." He kisses Dream's sternum, and down along his abdominal muscles. Mouths at Dream's belly, where Dream shifts under him, ticklish and affected, skin jumping, and then Hob noses at the base of his cock, and Dream realizes what he's gotten himself into only right before it comes to light.

"No, Dream," Hob says, lips now brushing the head of his cock, and like that he looks up and meets Dream's eyes. "I serve at your pleasure."

He takes Dream in his mouth, strangling Dream's response before it can even reach his throat. Not that Dream knows what he would have said. It's whited out instantly in the rush of pleasure that is Hob's mouth, and tongue, the generosity of his body, the vision of him between Dream's legs.

He's voiceless as Hob bobs his head, takes Dream deep, laves his tongue over his slit, applies what Dream must concede is his considerably greater experience to breaking Dream's ability to speak entirely. He grasps mindlessly at Hob's hair, it slides soft between his fingers, head tipped back against the pillows and thighs jerking restlessly, and still he knows this is but a precursor to what Hob truly intends for him. What he's... asked for. Folly. What had he been thinking?

Hob lifts his head to look at him, a line of spit dragging from Dream's cock to his lower lip. "Dream, you with me?"

Dream nods. His hand is still in Hob's hair. He pets at Hob's forehead, his temple, and Hob smiles. Like Dream is the one being indulged.

"Good?" he says, and Dream nods again. Hob takes his hand from his hair, kisses his knuckles, and Dream does not think this is how casual experiments are meant to go. He does not know what he is learning, except that Hob's kiss is soft and reverent, and the look on his face even more so.

"Is this," Dream asks quietly, hyperaware of how he's laid out on his back, Hob between his legs, "how you want me?"

Hob releases his hand. Drags a fingertip maddeningly up and down the crook of Dream's thigh as he considers. "Probably be a bit easier for you on your belly, but I don't want to make you feel vulnerable."

Dream is not certain there is a version of this that would not feel vulnerable. That it does not already. "I defer to your better judgment."

"Stay there, then." He moves away, and Dream takes the moment to gather himself. He's not certain he succeeds. He's spinning pleasantly, buzzing with the echo of Hob's touch. He wonders what might happen if he gives up on trying to right himself.

Hob comes back with lubricant, situations himself between Dream's legs again. Runs his hands up and down Dream's thighs and Dream spreads them wider on instinct. Hob swallows hard, Dream watches the harsh bob of his throat. He's still wearing his jeans, and Dream wishes he would take them off, he wants to pet at Hob's thighs in turn, he wants to see.

"You're a holy vision," Hob says, still studying him with that look, raw and strangled. Find some man to bed you, Dream thinks, feverishly. Some man.

He plucks at the fabric of Hob's jeans. "Hob—“

Hob chuckles. "Sorry, sorry. Bit unfair of me, isn't it? Got too distracted looking at you." He unzips his jeans then, pulls them off, and then is sitting there only in his underwear—something which Dream does not bother to manifest for himself because his clothing is made already of dream stuff, but perhaps he will start because Hob bare before him, his cock heavy and hard in his boxer briefs but still obscured by the fabric is—

"Dream?" Hob asks, as Dream pushes himself up on his elbows and reaches for him, mesmerized, cups his hand around Hob through the fabric, feels the warmth and heft of him, "did I break y— ah fuck."

Hob pushes into his hand, bends down over him again to kiss him as if summoned to it, and it is thrilling, sparkles along every vein, to get such a reaction. To have Hob caving to him. "Fuck, Dream."

Dream indulges himself further, slips his hand under Hob's waistband, takes him in his grasp, and Hob jerks against him. Dream's mouth waters at the weight of him, he has to swallow thickly to clear his throat, his own cock is heavy and straining, and he parts his thighs further for Hob. Vulnerable. Yes. This is vulnerable, and especially so in the waking world, and he wants, he wants Hob in him. A new feeling.

"Hob. I want—"

"I know, darling. Fuck, you're beautiful. Your hands—" He shakes himself. "Right. Right."

Hob sits up again. Strips off his underwear properly. His hair is hanging loose and messy now, eyes ever so slightly glazed with pleasure, chest rising and falling, his prick hard and ruddy at the tip. He is arresting.

He pushes Dream's legs up so his knees are bent, finds the bottle of lube where it's fallen into the sheets, pours some out into his hand. Leans in to kiss Dream’s belly, pleasant and tickling, and in the same motion drags a finger over Dream’s entrance.

Dream catches his wrist, inhuman pulse peaking in his throat, like a burst of dream stuff. “You do not need to put in such effort. This body does not have these human limitations.”

Hob tsks and taps his hand away. “You said you wanted the full experience. And the full Hob Gadling experience includes proper prep and aftercare, even if you're made of whims and fantasies. Free of charge, by the way."

"Oh, indeed?" This comes out significantly less teasing, and significantly more affected, than Dream had intended. "And what will the rest cost me?”

Hob winks at him. "Only your pleasure, darling."

This time, he leans over Dream, takes Dream’s wrist and pins it to the bed by his head. Dream lets out a choked gasp. The sudden pressure of Hob’s grip makes something stand out sharply within him, and then collapse again in relief. Hob makes a considering noise, and holds him there as he presses a finger lightly to Dream’s entrance with his other hand.

Dream shudders as Hob pushes his finger in, one knuckle, two, as he works in and out of Dream’s body, stretching him— it is an odd sensation, one he half-feels he should shy away from, but Hob’s grip on his arm is grounding, and Hob kneeling between his spread legs is tickling something in him that wants very badly.

Then Hob crooks his finger and pleasure rushes through him like a windstorm. Dream arches off the bed, grabbing at the sheets, and Hob laughs. “Thought you might like that.”

“Hob.” Dream thinks he means this to come out admonishing but it’s far more strained. Hob doesn’t give him time to recover, he drags his finger over Dream’s prostate again and Dream bites down hard on his lower lip. Hob slips his finger out, returns with two, and now it’s a stretch. Dream grinds down on him, resists the urge to whine as Hob works him over on his fingers, rubbing over his prostate on every other stroke.

“You are unbelievably gorgeous,” Hob murmurs, watching where his fingers slip in and out of Dream’s body, and then back up at Dream’s face with awe and fixation.

“Even,” Dream struggles over the words as sensation washes through him, Hob’s fingers in him, filling him, so much and yet he wants more, “spread out, like so?”

“Especially then. The way you move on my fingers,” he twists his hand to emphasize the point, and Dream shudders, "the fact that you let me. D’you know how long I’ve looked at you and wondered?” Saying this, he kisses Dream, sliding his hand up Dream’s wrist to clasp their fingers together. “Passing Stranger, your body has become not yours only nor left my body mine only. Fuck, I wanted to see you like that.”

You give me the pleasure of your eyes, Dream thinks, but doesn’t quote the poem back to him— Hob reels him away again by the touch of his hands. He pushes a third finger into Dream, and now it is tight, it is so much, but Dream pushes himself back onto Hob’s hand. Hob’s fingers move gloriously within him, touching every part of him, and he starts speaking again in his low, honey voice, that’s it, darling, good, feels so good, yeah? and Dream needs Hob inside him. Hob has pulled him by the throat from inexperienced to grasping, and he is grasping.

Hob keeps fingering him, spiking his pleasure higher, his cock hanging heavy and teasing Dream with each move he makes. Dream himself is painfully hard, and it sharpens the feeling of Hob in him from maddening to agonizing. Hob kisses him, licks into Dream’s mouth, and Dream opens to his tongue. He opens to him. Like a yawning, cavernous thing.

Wanting Hob in him has shifted to needing Hob in him has shifted to lacking Hob in him, that Hob is a fundamental part of him and without him Dream is bereft. “Hob,” he whines, mortified by the sound of it but unable to drag himself back to that place of control he had surely—surely?—started the evening with. “Please—”

Hob’s head jerks up and he looks at Dream in shock. And. Oh.

Shame rushes through Dream’s body. Who has he become, begging a human to fuck him? Is he not the Lord of all Dreaming, is he not above this? Once, Dream was a skillful and assertive lover, he could bring the full power of the Dreaming to bear for his lovers’ pleasure, he could craft every moment exactly as needed— and now—

But Hob doesn’t draw away in disgust. Or gloat over the position he’s maneuvered Dream into. He smiles down at him, a soft look that goes just a bit pained at the edges as Dream tenses. Then he presses his lips to Dream’s cheek. Even that simple touch makes Dream shiver.

“It’s alright, darling,” Hob murmurs, so gentle but the heat of it still winds through Dream’s insides. “Don’t you know I’ll give you what you need? You don’t have to beg for it.” He slips his fingers out and back in, only two now, working them as deep as they’ll go. “But you sound so pretty when you do.”

“Please,” Dream says, the words again dragged from him unbidden, unspooled by the feeling of Hob inside him, there but not enough. Hob kisses him, swallows his plea like sweet wine, works him on his fingers, grinds his cock in tantalizing lines over Dream’s thigh. And gradually something unlocks in Dream’s ribcage, each piece turning itself open in realization. Hob likes when he asks, begs even. But he isn’t going to make him.

Asking, then, feels less like a wound rent in him, showing all his torn pieces, and more like a spell that will draw Hob to him. Speak, and he will come.

“Please,” Dream says again, and this time the words don’t tear. He speaks into Hob’s mouth, and the wet warmth of Hob’s lips and tongue soothe him where asking might start to chafe. “Hob, I need—”

“Do you need my cock, love?” Hob asks, rough low and rough and burning. “Feels empty, doesn’t it?” He slips his fingers free, and Dream whines. “I know. I know. You’re just starving for it, aren’t you?”

Starving, yes, Dream would like to take Hob in his mouth, but right now he’s feverish for something else. Hob is so close, every touch of his skin already has Dream singing, but he still wants more. He tangles his hand in Hob’s hair, wraps one leg around the back of Hob’s thighs to pull him closer, and Hob laughs, breathless.

“Fuck, Dream, you’re so—” Hob sounds spun around, now, and it’s gratifying to knock him askew in the way he’s done to Dream.

“Hob Gadling,” Dream says, putting the weight of sleeping desire into his voice, “I need you. I’m waiting.”

“Fucking hell,” Hob groans. “I’ve created something terrifying.” He doesn’t sound displeased about it. In fact, he kisses Dream again, lets Dream pull him close by the hair, smiling into his mouth. “Gonna make it so good for you, I promise.”

“I can plague your sleep with eternal nightmares if not,” Dream says, with no intention of doing so.

“See, I’m so confident in my ability to fuck you” —Dream's skin prickles at the word— “that I’m not even worried about it.”

He makes Dream lift up so he can push a pillow under his hips, takes Dream’s leg and maneuvers it over his shoulder, bending his body back. Dream shivers at the vulnerability of the position, the way he’s pinned. Hob kisses the bend of his knee with a little smile, and then Dream watches down the length of their bodies as Hob takes himself in hand. He’s so hard, glistening with pre at the tip, and Dream swallows jerkily.

“Alright, love?” Hob asks, meeting his eyes. He has always had the brightest, loveliest eyes. Dream holds his gaze and nods. He is not certain that he is, in fact, all right, he feels strange and spun about and immersed in the waking dream of Hob’s bed and Hob’s touch, but he does not want Hob to stop, he wants Hob to fuck him.

Hob presses into him, slowly, pausing when just the head of his cock is sheathed. And Dream— Dream was not prepared, Hob’s fingers did not prepare him for the all around pressure of Hob’s cock, the way it would fill him. It dances on the edge of pain, but he wants more. Already, more.

“More,” he finds himself saying, and Hob chuckles, bracing a hand around the back of Dream’s neck as he complies. This time, he pushes all the way in, not stopping until he bottoms out, groaning at the feeling. Dream clutches at his shoulders, no doubt leaving indents in his skin, body clenching convulsively as he gets used to the feeling of Hob in him.

Hob is inside him. Hob is inside him.

“Dream, you alright? You’re… breathing,” Hob says, petting through his hair. He sounds awed.

Breathing. He is breathing. And he hadn't commanded it so. Hadn't even meant it. Normally Dream forgets to affect such human mannerisms, even when it might be advisable to do so. But now he is breathing. Each one is choppy, three steps up three steps down, somewhere between a breath and a sob.

“I am fine,” he says, and Hob shushes him, kissing his cheek.

“I know you are. It’s alright to get a bit overwhelmed, yeah?” Hob is still in him, Dream can still feel every centimeter of him everywhere, but he doesn’t move. Simply lets Dream settle.

Dream tries to stop the wretched breathing, it makes him feel human and mortal and out of control, but he can’t, this temporary body affixed to this plane by Hob’s weight, his touch. Hob kisses his cheek again, nuzzles at his ear, and gradually Dream finds himself subsiding, relaxing in increments. It occurs to him, through the distant knowledge of the Dreaming, that this softness would not be characteristic of a temporary, experimental experience with a stranger, should Dream have simply wanted to know what it was like. It occurs to him through his own knowledge that this vulnerability he feels, this ability to ease him, is characteristic only of Hob.

He does not yet know what to do with that, but he turns to find Hob’s lips. Hob meets him easily, smiling into the kiss. “With me?” he asks, and Dream nods.

“Yes.”

Then Hob starts to move, slow measured thrusts at first. Dream breathes through each, and perhaps breathing is not so bad, after all, for it settles him, and settling lets him take Hob in, and he wants to take Hob in. It is so good, the slide of him sends sparks all along Dream’s limbs, builds inexorable and tantalizing heat through his body, none of his many dreams conveyed to him just how good it would be, when brought from dreams to reality. From memory to the body. More, even, than this is the sense of Hob’s body over him, the heat of him, and the strength, the breadth of his shoulders, the drag of Hob’s belly over Dream’s prick, the way he moves, expertly pushing Dream higher and oh-so-much faster with each thrust, tapping against that edge of pain-and-too-much without ever letting him fall over it.

Dream is starting to think that, in addition to his general experience, Hob has become quite an expert in knowing what Dream, specifically, might like.

“Good, darling?” Hob asks against his jaw, and Dream means to respond but all that comes out is a whine. He feels Hob’s smile against his skin. “More, then?”

Dream evidently doesn’t have to respond. Hob braces himself more firmly over him, and then he’s moving much faster, and then Dream really loses his senses. Hob bears down on him, levering Dream’s leg back further and deepening the angle, and each thrust hits before Dream has recovered from the last, and Hob’s mouth is on his throat, right over his pulse, which is also hammering—

Hob hits his prostate, and Dream keens as lightning arcs through him. Hob is talking to him now as he does it again and again, saying through panting breaths something like, you’re so good, does that feel good? is’at good for you? fuck you’re gorgeous, but Dream can’t parse much detail. He feels he should be participating more actively, but the wherewithal to do so has slipped away from him, all he can do is take what Hob is giving to him.

Probably that is what Hob wants. Perhaps he has fantasized over their long acquaintance about having Dream bent in just this position. Many might wish to have the Dream Lord at their mercy. Hob’s mercy, however, is a burst of pure heat straight to the soul.

“Hob,” he’s saying when he comes back to himself enough to notice, “Hob, Hob—”

“You’re beautiful like that,” Hob says, voice rough. “Dreamed of it— ha. You make the most beautiful noises.”

They are, in fact, wholly undignified noises, but Dream can’t seem to bring himself to stop; Hob punches each sound of pleasure out of him. He floats. Holds onto Hob’s shoulders. Presses his face to Hob’s and feels the scratch of his stubble. The rough calluses of his hands. The rhythm of Hob’s body is sublime. The kiss that he presses to the corner of Dream’s eye is more so. He is… crying there. Tears spilling over and down his cheeks. Dream has crafted the heights of euphoria within the Dreaming. But. Has any of it ever been as good as this?

He has Hob close to him, around him, in him, and still he wants more. Never again will Dream be able to disdain the office of Desire, not without looking away in shame at the lie.

His release washes over him in a wave that he doesn’t even notice until it peaks, so great is the rest of his pleasure. He gasps as he comes, not even needing Hob’s hand on him, tips his head back on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open. Chest heaving. Hob slows, cups Dream’s cheek—until Dream urges him on with an ankle hooked around the back of his thigh, do not stop do not stop do not—

“Alright.” Hob nips at his lower lip in admonishment but he does start fucking him again, clearly chasing his own release now rather than pushing for Dream’s. That edge of pleasure-pain now tips closer to pain but Dream relishes in it. Each stuttered motion of Hob in him is blessed.

“I want,” he manages, throat dry, voice scraped rough from his cries, “to feel you come. In me.”

“Oh fuck,” Hob swears. “Dream.” And that apparently is enough. Hob’s hips stutter quick and he comes, hot spurts in Dream’s body, he can feel it. When Hob's tension eases, when his breath catches up to him, he moves to pull out—but Dream drags him back in. He wants— wants to keep Hob inside him, belly spine lungs throat, bring Hob in and in and hold him there, wants that warmth with him always. He could live like that, with Hob close to him.

Hob helps him lower his leg from his shoulder, stretch out sore muscles, and then lets Dream pull him in close, hold him there, in him, even as he’s going soft. He turns them on their sides, tucks his face in against Dream’s shoulder. Breathes the same air.

“So,” Hob says, after several, very long moments where they’ve been lying quietly together, tacky with sweat, Dream’s limbs all wrapped around Hob and Hob running his hands up and down his back, “how was that?”

“Mm?” Dream is still floating. It’s very pleasant.

He can feel Hob grinning against his shoulder. “You wanted to know what it was like to sleep with a man.”

What it was like. Dream is not certain he knows. He knows that Hob’s arms around him are strong, the touch of his skin pleasant even with the combined heat of their bodies. That he smells of sex and sweat and Dream wants to mire himself in it. He knows that, as Hob does finally, carefully pull out, he can feel Hob’s come dripping sticky over his thighs and rather than being discomforting, it only reminds him how he was wanted. His own come is smeared over Hob’s belly in disorganized lines, and Hob’s hair is ravaged by his fingers. There are still tears drying on Dream’s face. He knows that Hob has had him, now, and is still holding him. That the force of his lovemaking annihilated Dream’s dignity. That Hob wants to kiss him during sex. That at his prolonged silence, Hob looks up, finds his gaze, questioning.

“I am not certain that’s what I studied,” Dream admits. “Or. Learned.”

“Oh? What’d you learn, then?” Hob touches his cheek, as if even parted for a second, he wants to be close to Dream again. “Least tell me if you enjoyed it.”

“I did.” Dream must look ruined, and still Hob must confirm he enjoyed it? “What I learned is not what it is like to be with 'a man'. But rather.” He brushes his thumb over Hob’s lower lip, and Hob’s mouth opens at the movement. “What it is like. To be loved. By a very good friend.”

Hob’s expression crinkles into the softest smile at loved. “Oh, a very good friend, hm?”

“Very good,” Dream says. Presses his hand flat to Hob’s heart. “Uniquely so. Uniquely good to me among friends.” Not that Dream has… friends, plural. Better, then, that Hob is so singular. Singular enough to have nestled somewhere within him, between one meeting, one drink, one kiss and the next, and Dream would no longer be without him. His heart is surrounded by a hazy warmth much softer than the sharp pang of desire, and Hob's bed, Hob's touch, is soothing to him, a blanket he has finally pulled over his shoulders after trying to brave the lingering cold. Like so much this evening, it feels strange, and like so much this evening, it feels too good to shy away.

Hob leans in to kiss him, a soft drag of lips over his. “Good. Can I convince my friend to go in for a shower? Tea, maybe? Can I convince him to stay the night and keep exploring that friendship?”

Hob has taken care of him this evening, has not yet lead him astray, and so Dream lets him pull him out of bed and to his feet. In the shower, under the rushing hot water, Hob kisses him, kisses him, kisses him, rough, inelegant, consumed by feeling, hands curled around Dream’s hips. Dream will not make dreams out of this night, after all, he thinks. Selfishly, he wants to keep it to himself.

Peerless among friends, Hob Gadling, he thinks, as Hob makes him tea. As Hob tugs him back over the threshold, into the bedroom, into the mess they’ve made of the sheets. Peerless among friends.

Among lovers, too, perhaps.

#tfw ur having casual sex with ur homie to learn what its like to get dicked down then oh no youre having a gay awakening oh NO youre having #a romantic awakening about your homie too. we've all been there #my writing #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #you best believe 'i serve at your pleasure' plays over and over and over and over in dream's mind for weeks after #btw the poem hob quotes is 'to a stranger' #nsft

[postersofleon]

My Ex Girlfriend Is Still Hot

Being recommended this place was good, apparently they can fix any vehicle at a cheap price, but it's not the cheapness that first attracted Leon into this place. It was seeing his ex-girlfriend covered in oil. It had been years since he had seen her, she looked older, but that that didn't reduce his love.

content: angst, fluff and smut

notes: afab fem!reader x leon, reader is divorced mom, mentions of leon's situation-ship with ada, reader is mean to leon (he kinda deserves it), fixing old relationships, baby!, leon is in love with the past, mentions of leon's unhealthy coping mechanisms. the smut is kinda fluffy. this took forever. rewriting and writing again. blah, anyways, minors, um, be care what you read. don't interact, the standard stuff, sorry. also, um, i don't know how this was. it felt rough, sorry. not prove read and... it's long

taglist: @argreion

He was tired. Leon couldn't deny that his 'exciting' life had bored him and broken him up. It was always issue one or issue two causing problems, but he won't think about it.

All he wanted to do now was fix his poor bike that got destroyed after his fight with Maria. His body was still sore from his body being infected, from his body being hit once again. He stepped out of Chris's truck and entered the garage to fix his favorite vehicle. A teenager was flicking through his phone; the kid was kind of covered by oil stains. Eh, he is willing to trust Claire's recommendations of fixing cars. The kid looked old enough, probably fourteen or fifteen to handle himself here.

"Um, hey." He put his hands on his jean pockets, Leon cleared his throat a bit, "I'm guessing you aren't the owner, huh?" The kid slowly looked up at Leon, he looked annoyed as hell to see him, "Duh." He put his phone back in front of his face. Leon cleared his throat again, "Well, is the owner here, kiddo?"

"Mom!" The kid yelped loudly.

Leon pursed his lips together. This kid had lungs. He heard boots approaching them, a woman appeared, "Sorry about the wait." Her hands grabbed a rag and cleaned her hands up. In that exact moment, Leon immediately recognized her- it felt like a one of those smacks he was used to. Her eyes went on the ground for a bit before looking at his eyes.

"So, how can I help you?" She put her hands on her waist. Leon swallowed his spit that was forming on the back of his throat, "Oh, I was..." What the hell? Was he returning back to his stupid roots when he was always awkward with women. He pressed his lips into a line, his mouth now felt dry as hell, "My bike... it needs to be fixed." Finally. Those poor words seemed to struggle to even pop out of his throat.

She nodded her head, "Yeah, can I see the... damage, jeez." Her eyes widen at the extent of the damage, pieces of the bike were dangling and sections of it was scrapped up and turned into a small balls of metal.

Did she recognize Leon?

Stupidly, that was he first question when she tilted her head to see the damage from bellow. She turned to see her... son. Gosh, Leon just connected the points that this kid was actually her son.

"Hey, bring me the gloves," She cleaned her already dirty hands with her black tank top, "There are on top of engine I just bought." With every word she spoke, Leon recalled how much he adored her.

The kid nodded his head and hurried to another room leaving Leon alone with you Her eyes met his, "Are you sure you wanna fix it up?" She put her hands on her waist, "Everything will have to be replaced, and..." Her eyes trailed off to the room where her kid went, "I can promise cheap, but this baby needs all whole bath on oils."

Leon nodded his head. "Yeah, it's one of my favorites."

She looked back at him, a certain similar twinkle was in her eyes, "Oh, curious, you have more?" Leon felt his heart freeze for a second, "Yeah," Leon muttered softly, "My friend, Claire made me like motorcycles." Leon knew it. He knows she recognizes him, but she making herself like she doesn't remember. Before he could comment her child came back with the gloves, she put them on and got on top of truck, she sat on the edges of the truck and moved the bike around.

"So, how much will it cost me?" Leon asked her.

"By the way you treated her, I want to say 100k, but," She jumped off, "You are lucky I have spare pieces everywhere in this shop. The engine, the clutch, the starting gear- everything got broken one way or another." She took off her gloves for a second, "So, it'll be 20 something. The bike looks from this year so it's pieces might be a little expensive or further on."

Leon nodded his head, "Y-yeah, okay."

Her kid and she got on top of the truck and carefully unloaded it to the ground. Leon swallowed, seeing her get dirty was something he never expected from her. Leon helped her down this time, her hands grabbed his arms to assure a safe fall. "It'll take a while to patch her up." She said. Leon smiled, "You do remember me." He whispered.

She rolled her eyes, "You..." She fell into his trap. Trusting his hands on her body would be a red flag to anyone, but for her... it was normal. Seventeen years without seeing each yet, his touch was normal... still normal. "I hate you, Leon Scott Kennedy." She pushed his hands off her waist. Leon tsked his tongue, "I know you do." He can't even deny it. Yet there was a nice feeling. That sense of comfort he never apparently lost.

She gave him her back, "I'll finish the motorcycle as soon as I can." She muttered softly. Leon felt his body hurt, this feeling was always so familiar. The bittersweet feeling of appreciation. Leon stepped forward without thinking, "I'm sorry." He muttered softly. She gave him the finger.

Leon clenched his jaw. "Are you married?" Leon muttered again in his low voice. "I'm sorry for touching you-"

"I'm not married, and my status shouldn't matter to you." She snapped back. Leon nodded his head. He used to not super care if married women threw themselves at him, but hearing those words made a huge pillow to the fall. Hearing her angry was something Leon barely heard from her. But that's what happens when you just leave.

Her son kept an eye on Leon now.

"Is the kid mine?" He whispered softly.

All he was met with was a witch's laugh, you couldn't stop laughing at his utter audacity. "Y, you think I would just have your child and not tell you?" You turned around, you couldn't even see him in this exact second, but it was your job now tying you to him. You could reject fixing his motorcycle. Though, that will make you weak. He left and you are still crying over the past.

"When I heard about what happened in Raccoon City, I thought you died," You licked your lips, the nerves were shaking every detail of your mind, "Not even a letter, a phone call, a fax." Your hands went towards your face and gently rubbed the veins that were slowly popping. "I waited for two years. You know, like a fucking idiot."

The shop was silent. Everyone couldn't look at each other and... once again your dumb feelings got in the way.

"Then, I find out you saved the president's daughter. That was the only damn news I got from you and it was thanks for the government." You turned around angrily. Finally, those tears began to form under your eyes, it was frustrating seeing that idiot with a smile. You only knew Raccoon City got infected, you knew they bombed it and after nothing. Maybe you were selfish. But... didn't you have that right?

Those feelings. Those damn feelings.

"What was the reason's name?" You asked softly.

Leon blinked.

"Name?"

"What was the person who stole your heart? Made you forget about the people you knew in college? The people in our town?"

Leon swallowed. Would you even understand what he went through? Seeing those mountains of dead bodies forming because he accidentally helped Ada? He wanted to help people so badly that he had forgotten the life he once lived. He was a hockey player who lived with his grandmother until she died when he was nineteen. Yet... was he even that guy anymore?

Apparently, the only person who knew him from the past was you. Only you.

"If I tell you, you won't believe me." Leon sighed, his blue eyes met yours, and a sad smile appeared in his lips. "A little girl named Sherry." He crossed his arms against his chest.

"Yeah, was that an excuse to never call for the last couple of years?" You retorted back. "Leon, you didn't leave for a couple of days or weeks. You were gone for six years until I knew you were alive and another couple of more years happened. You left for seventeen years."

All those years passed, yet Leon couldn't stop looking at you. He nearly forgot your details. Even if you are angry with him, he is happy to remember your face and your voice.

"Sorry." Apparently, that made you angry. You didn't mean to, but sometimes you didn't know how much you dealt with him.

-

You refused many times to see him as you fixed his bike, and Leon was trying to fix what he broke. He wanted to ask about your child, who just played with his phone and sometimes helps.

He wanted to ask about your old marriage.

Leon just sat down beside your son, "So, your mom-"

"Not talking to you." The kid immediately said. Leon nodded his head, "About your mom or about everything?" Leon asked politely.

"Everything."

Great. This kid is stubborn. Leon began to tap his thighs, he can try to ease up the kid and get what he wanted. What do kids think is cool? Gun? Zombies? That was Leon's life in a nutshell. "Alright, I'll tell you about me." He sighed softly. "I'm Leon Scott Kennedy. I was born in 1977, my parents died in a car crash, and I was raised by my grandma." Wow, he truly barely spoke about his past until now.

"I met your mom in high school, but I properly knew her when I went to her work." He could easily now remember how you asked for orders, and Leon mumbled a shy, "Milkshake."

"She... she wasn't my first love, but she slowly turned into my first." Leon sighed softly. He smiled. He couldn't get rid of those feelings, but that sad feeling came into his mind. She was his first love, and he nearly forgot about her.

"When I went to Raccoon City, I thought about your mom. She thinks I didn't, but I did." He muttered softly. He leaned back to the chair, "But once you see your first death, it's not even a normal death," Leon chuckled bitterly, "A zombie eating a person up. Zombies are trying to desperately kill you." He clenched his jaw as he thought about his shitty life.

"I know I should've called. I should've called her and told her I was fine, but I wanted to be a hero so badly. I volunteered to be one of their guys to be trained..." He closed his eyes. He could've just gone home. Gone back to your arms and forget, but it was too late to defend himself.

"I had a girlfriend - Ada, when I was in that life." Leon muttered softly, "I was desperately trying to search your mom in her." Poor Ada. Having to deal with his dumb issues, he caused himself.

"I got angry at her for not being her. I remember when she betrayed me, I was shocked because I knew your mother would never." He rubbed gently his wrist.

The kid turned to see Leon. It's as if Leon could feel the judgment of the kid, "I don't know what to say." The boy turned off his phone.

Leon nodded his head, "Your mom is allowed to hate me." He whispered softly, "I fell in love with another woman that wasn't her yet I begged her to be... her." Leon rubbed his mouth firmly. He wanted to shut the hell up. He didn't want this kid to actually have a valid reason to hate him.

"Don't be like me, kid." Leon muttered softly.

"Wasn't planning on it."

He heard footsteps and saw a guy with silver hair, "Um, hi." Leon crossed his legs. The kid groaned. Before Leon could wonder why your kid would groan at him, the kid muttered the word, "Dad, what are you doing here?"

What? This is the guy you married?

"Don't give me that look, it's the weekend, it's time for you to be with your dad."

Your son stood up. "I'll tell mom-" Before your son could mutter another word, you were already near the door. "Yeah," You forced a smile, "Don't worry about me, kiddo. Just go with dad. You have fun with him." You kissed your son's cheek. The son stood up straight and went outside with his father. Leon and you were only in your shop.

He sighed and you groaned.

"I didn't say anything." Leon defended himself. You turned to see him, "I know, I know your little mind is trying to figure out my life." You turned away from Leon and looked as your child left with his father. Your hands fumbled nervously to your pants' pockets, "The bike is almost done." You whispered softly.

Leon swallowed weakly, "T-that's good."

A small pregnant pause made the two think your life's. Thinking it through in all those picky details that you once not thought about. You are happy with your life, yet you wondered what would've happened if Leon stayed. Leon wasn't happy, but he accepted those details. He thought about him probably being the divorced husband. It was a bitter thought. You deserved a person who would stay with you. Not an unstable guy who was a functional alcoholic until now.

Leon stood up silently and looked at you.

You saw him.

"I'm sorry for leaving." He whispered softly.

"For fuck's sake," You laughed bitterly feeling all those same emotions, "I doubt you missed me, but I missed you." Leon's hands cupped your face, he didn't mind the oils or anything anymore. Sure, his ex girlfriend is still hot, but she looked so beautiful right now.

"I wished I did miss you, but I know I would've been worse." Leon muttered softly. He couldn't even imagine him living his life. He already hated his shitty life and remembering he failed you. But... he still did fail you.

Leon's eyes soften, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He leaned to finish the gap and kissed you. The kiss felt desperate from the two of you. You held him tightly as his lips moved against yours, very politely put his tongue between you two. You slowly pulled away from the kiss; the small feeling of feeling pathetic grew. So many years away from each other, yet his hands belong in your hips.

"I'm dirty." You whispered softly.

His heart clenched. He felt so stupid loving you even more with that simple mutter. "A date." Leon held your hands with his. "I need a date with you. Just you and me."

You couldn't help but laugh a bit.

Was it bad that nothing really changed between you two?

-

The date was in your house. You doubt this date will grow into a relationship, and it would be foolish if it did. Leon was still wearing a normal jacket and shirt underneath it. You prepared food and you two ate. He asked about your child, you answered, but you couldn't ask him about his life outside of you. He didn't want to make you know.

You washed the dirty dishes as Leon looked at you.

What if...

A married couple just enjoying time with each other, holding and appreciating each other. Leon sighed softly, "I love you." He whispered softly. "Thanks." You laughed softly. Your hands felt nervous, trembling a bit as they grabbed the rag to dry up the dishes. You had a question and you hoped he'll answer it.

"Who is Ada?"

Leon's breathing stopped, "Ada?" You heard his conversation with your kid. Your eyes fell down, "Was she important?"

He didn't like the next words coming to his mouth, "Yes, she was." Leon won't lie about that. Ada was the most normal thing in his life. Ada was more in his life than you ever were. You temporarily closed your eyes and felt the small buzzing feeling in your heart.

"I was truly stupid one, huh? Waiting for you." You turned to see Leon.

Leon looked down at his lap. He didn't know how to comfort you, and it felt like a horrible task.

The last time he saw you came into his mind.

You were kissing him repeatedly, and less than twenty-four hours, Ada Wong kissed him, and he couldn't say anything. It wasn't his fault for failing you there. But what came after... it was his fault.

"I fucked up." Leon forced himself to look at you, "I know I did, but you having your child. Having a life without me," Leon stood up, "Don't regret that." In the end, he got what he deserved. Then, for a moment, the idea of you being in Raccoon City, you dying... He would've hated himself even more.

Leon caressed your face again, "Please, I don't want you to regret your life."

"I just hate you." You mumbled pathetically.

"Then, hate me."

Leon and you looked at each other for a while. Before you can say anything else, Leon dropped to his knees and unbuttoned your jeans. "Hate me." His hands rubbed gently your thighs, the softness of your body remained, and he loved it. Being between your thighs was his heaven. He always thought of that. His tongue licked them a bit, and he gently opened your legs open and looked up at you.

Your breath was shakey for a bit before he licked your pussy. His breath and a bit of his teeth was felt, you shivered weakly, but he made the feelings grow a bit more. His hands traced your butt and went underneath your underwear to hold you tightly. His tongue slowly began to lick your folds, gently flicking his tongue in your opening.

"Leon-" Your voice was a different tone of pathetic.

Leon felt himself growing. Your taste... God, your taste... Leon looked up at you again and grasped your butt harsher.

He sucked a bit on your clit. He needed you so badly. You were his first love. You were his first everything.

His hands slowly pulled down your panties. He wanted to avoid crude language in a way. He wanted this to be romantic. He licked a line in your opening. His tongue flirted with your opening until the tip of his tongue was inside of you. You gasped weakly, "Leon..."

Your arousal made Leon grab you harsher. Holding you tightly as his tongue flicked in and out of you. Sucking your pussy and feeling safe again. Your legs almost failed you, and he grabbed you. His tongue moved a bit, sucking and licking your pussy. A small growl escaped his lip, licking your cunt was his only goal right now. You gasped weakly. You couldn't speak properly, but all Leon did was shoved himself deeper.

Your hands grabbed his hair, "Le- Leon." You gasped.

He looked at you, "I love you." Leon muttered softly before kissing you gently. He stood up and held you. "I love you." He kissed your cheek gently. Your eyes closed tightly, feeling exposed, "Can we go to my room?" You asked. Leon nodded his head, he lifted you up in ease. You kicked down your jeans and panties, you needed to remember to pick those up later. Leon walked upstairs, his eyes were focused on you and on his destination.

Slowly and gently placed you on the bed, Leon smiled at the view, "Always beautiful." He muttered softly.

Your head turned away, your cheeks were feeling that flushing sensation. All your blood was on your face with those simple words.

Leon grinned. His fingers quickly unbuttoned his jeans. His hands rubbed his cock, "Do, do you have a condom?" Leon asked softly. You shook your head, you haven't had a one night stand for so long that you didn't have the things ready.

He pouted, "Guess we are doing the college route." The quick fuck and the slip it out.

Leon slid down his boxers, his hands grabbed his cock, "I got better with the pull out." He promised you.

"Sure." You couldn't help but chuckle.

He pressed the tip of his cock on your folds. Leon bit on his lower lip and rubbed his pre cum around your clit. You whined, "L-Leon..." Leon growled softly, "Missed my pretty girl." His cock moved around your folds until he pressed it against your clit. The pre cum was spilling pathetically, Leon's free hand grabbed your hip that kept twitching.

Begging.

Slowly, the tip of his cock opened you up. Your hole was ready for him, he pushed himself deep and deep. Slow and gentle for you.

It had been a while since you slept with someone. Your hands patted your bed and grabbed your covers, "Fuck." Even your voice was pathetic. A pathetic whine that made Leon growl, he pushed his hips until all of him was in you. Your warmth made him want to cum. "I love you." Leon whispered softly.

He began to move, his hips moved away and in; Leon leaned close to you and gasped his air into your lips. His hands caressed your thighs and forced them a bit more open, Leon wanted you.

Leon was never meant to be a rough lover. His stupid life made his mind think everything was cruel, but your whines made him want him to nicer. Leon's eyes met yours. His hips moved faster. Those small facial reactions, your eyes wanting to close and the way your nose twitched a bit.

His hands gently folded your legs against your stomach.

Those small sexual noises were small plops. His hand grabbed your face and caressed your cheeks and neck. He was gone for so long and...

"Why- why are you crying?" You asked.

Leon didn't even notice it. He smiled, "I, I d-don't know." His hand traveled down your hips and caressed your stomach. The new and old details of your skin just made him miss you despite having you close.

Your hands caressed his cheeks and pulled him close. Those gentle kisses were he can melt and turn into nothing. His thrusts turned faster now, he sucked your bottom lip and pulled away. "I need you." Leon muttered weakly. His hands grabbed your hips and thrusted faster. You grabbed the back of his head, "I need you too." You agreed with his words.

Was it lust? Was it the painful feeling of being separated away?

This felt odd. Even the sex you once shared with each other never felt this desperate.

He wasn't going to pull out. His empty promise showed more as he growled weakly, "I have to..." Leon looked at you again and kissed you. His tongue entered your mouth, he licked evert detail... begging. Needing.

Leon groaned and finally came. You hissed softly as you finished as well. He didn't know what else to do but hug you. He didn't want to leave anymore.

#resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #death island leon

[rs-hawk]

Female human x vampire!gf and dragon!gf

Fluffy/smut

Plz

I'm touch-starved

Honestly? Getting lost on that castle tour was the best thing that ever happened to you. You ended up trapped in a hidden hallway, with only the the torches lining the walls to guide you. Panic and fear welled up inside of you, as did tears. As you leaned against the wall, you slowly slid down it until you hit the ground with a soft thunk.

“Now now there. You don’t have to be so scared. It’s just the dark,” a hissing voice seemed to come from everywhere, making you curl more into yourself.

“Not everyone has night vision as excellent as yours, my love,” a purring sort of voice answered.

You wiped your tears away, feeling your pockets for your keys. Sure, they weren’t much, and you typically weren’t afraid of other women, but being lost and scared made you feel more paranoid than you usually did. Stumbling to your feet, you turned towards the side of the hallway you thought the voices were coming from.

There was the clicking of heels and the sound of… wings? The second sound puzzled you enough to make you drop your guard, your head tilted as you tried to identify it. Yeah, wings. You were fairly certain of that.

Into view stepped a beautiful woman. Tall, elegant, with pearl-like skin. It seemed to shimmer under the torchlight, and it was so clear, so pale, that it seemed nearly opaque. Her eyes were dark and slightly sunken in, but that did nothing to take away from her stunning beauty. Despite the terror that began clawing at your brain when you saw her, something in you screaming Predator. Danger, you couldn’t bear to look away from her.

The only reason you looked away was the creature that landed next to her. A towering terror of a woman that made your mouth go dry with a mix of want and fear. Her eyes were slitted, and teeth too long, too sharp, for her mouth protruded from it, reminding you of a crocodile’s maw. Her nails were long, black claws that were carefully draped over the pale woman’s shoulders. She had to stoop to fit in the hallway. It was no wonder that she was flying, using wings that were half tucked behind her back.

“You’re…,” you trailed off, staring at them in wonder. A thousand words filled your mind to describe them.

“Frightful?” the pale woman asked, flashing a fanged smile.

“Disgusting?” the dragon woman echoed, tilting her head as she looked at you.

“Horrid?”

“Horrifying?”

“Monstrous!”

The last one made them both laugh, but you stayed rooted to the spot in awe. “Stunning,” you whisper, feeling like you were in a trance state.

That made the laughter die on both of their lips as they turned back to look at you, now looking curious and slightly confused. “Is that so?” the pale woman, a vampire if you had to guess, inquired, her clicking heels echoing in the empty hallway and she sauntered closer to you.

“Wow,” was all you could think of as she closed the gap, taking your chin in her hand. Her cool touch sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you stared up at her, mouth slightly open with an unfounded excitement.

The Dragon chuckled as she dropped to her hands and knees, crawling over like a lizard would run. You tore your gaze from the Vampire just to be able to look at her with that same awe and wonder. She popped up besides the Vampire, running a claw down the bridge of your nose. For some reason, you giggled, grinning at her. You felt so… safe. Comforted. Like you were in the presence of two beings that could only love you.

The two women exchanged looks before looking back at you. “You’re not scared?” the Dragon asked. You shook your head as much as you could with the Vampire still holding your chin. “You’re not going to scream or ask us to leave you alone?”

“Why would I do that?” you blurted out.

They both looked at you with confusion, but you couldn’t help but let the words tumble out. You felt safe with them, and you knew that was silly because you hadn’t even really met them, but you couldn’t help it. They seemed confused but softened as you talked, and especially the way you started leaning into the Vampire’s touch.

“Maybe we should play with her, at least a little bit,” the Dragon nearly purred as she cupped your cheek.

“You read my mind as always, darling,” the Vampire grinned as you whined against both of their touches, trying to stand on your tiptoes to lean more into them.

The Vampire drew you closer to her so she could plant a cool, forceful kiss against your lips. You moaned softly against her lips as you reached for her, trying to wrap your arms around her neck to draw her in closer, but you’re stopped by the Dragon, who started to kiss and nip along your neck. You’re picked up and sat on the Dragon’s lap as she sat down, the Vampire leaning down to keep peppering you in kisses as the Dragon’s tongue flicked out to tease your neck.

You whined again, leaning back against the Dragon as she racked her claws over your your stomach, trailing down to the sweet, wet spot between your legs. Your mind was fuzzy as you felt the heat between your legs burn as she easily cut away the fabric there teasing your clit carefully with one of her claws. Part of you wanted to flinch away, but you had enough sense to stay still.

“What a pretty little one she is,” the Dragon cooed, her tail now between your legs, prodding open your dripping hole.

“Maybe could keep her,” the Vampire agreed.

She sat in front of you, helping it guide the Dragon’s tail into you. You grunted as it was pushed in, the thickness and texture of the scales unfamiliar but not unpleasant. Before you knew it, you were whining and limp in the Dragon’s arms, legs spread widely by her as she kept fucking you with her tail. The Vampire had her lips attached to your clit, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of you, not caring as you sobbed from over stimulation. Not that you ever actually asked her to stop.

The Dragon pushed her tail deeply inside of you, mocking you in a warm voice for how wet you are, and how easily you take it. All you can do is babble out a thank you as the Vampire teased another orgasm out of your poor spent body. By the time they’re done with you, you’re sticky and exhausted, but you still cling to the Vampire as she helped you redress.

“You don’t have to do that. We’re not leaving you after that much fun,” she promised, pressing a kiss to the top of your forehead as the Dragon took you both in her arms.

#writers on tumblr #writing #fantasy romance #author #monster lover #monster romance #monster fucker #monster fuqqer #smut #fantasy smut #monster wife #monster fudger #monster kink #monsterfucking nsft #monsterfucking cw #tw monsterfucking #monster fluff #monster k!nk #monster girlfriend #monster gf #wlw romance #wlw nsft #wlw ns/fw #wlw smut #queer smut #queer ns/fw #queer fantasy #queer romance #queer writers #queer nsft

[bonefall]

You can ignore this but I was just curious. What are your thoughts on redemption? I know modern day it means "character gets absolved of all wrongdoing and sin, and everyone forgives them yay!" But I'm talking more like, redemption as "Character acknowledges their actions and worldview was shitty, has apologized to all harmed parties, some forgive and some don't, but regardless character works on their issues and strives to become better"

I know characters are writing tools, so the message here would, in short, be "No matter what you can still work to be a better person". So I suppose I'm asking to what extent you agree. Sorry if this ask is everywhere I'm very sick at the moment.

I speak harshly of redemption arcs because I am actually an aficionado. I love them. I can't get enough of them, honestly. They're like eggs to me, I like 'em in all sorts of ways, devilled, omeletted, scrambled, but rotten ones are so bad you've gotta get rid of them immediately.

What often ends up setting me off about how redemption arcs are approached (and discussed) is the pervasive fact that people are more interested in sorrowful abusers than messy victims. They'll turn out to gush about how wonderful it is that Clear Sky cries about how sad murdering women made him, while not even recognizing Star Flower is self-destructing or Thunder is deflecting and misplacing.

It's like... even in fandom you will never get away from it. Your abuser is compelling and complex (meaning "was mean and sad at the same time"), and you're whiny and annoying ("ugh why is this traumatized person doing irrational things?! Don't they ever learn?!")

So when I write and when I talk, victims are always forefront in my mind. I'm really tired of stories that center Good Intentions or "but they loved you"

But anyway, digressing,

I agree. It really is never too late to work to be a better person. It's not even about apologizing, or making up for it, because sometimes you can't. "Sorry" will never undo what happened, and "sorry" doesn't even promise that real change is behind it.

So to me, a good redemption is just about exploring change.

Not suffering, I don't entirely like the idea that pain fixes pain, because it really doesn't. Reflection does. Genuinely understanding what was wrong and why you did it does. In spite of how cathartic it is to see someone get karma, I do hope that 99% of all people could be rehabilitated.

It's why I'm not fond of the phrasing where people want to deny redemption arcs because "they don't deserve it.' The WORLD deserves it. The people they will HELP deserve it. The person they will be deserves it. The question really is-- WOULD they change?

And the answer for powerful people is usually no. Power feels good. Gets you what you immediately want, makes it easy to surround yourself with yesmen who reinforce your excuses.

I think most people want to see others get better, but it's cathartic to me when some characters don't. Redemption arcs are wonderful things, but shouldn't be seen as the IDEAL ending for every villain, y'know?

#bone babble

[byunpum]

Ghost girl | part 3

Pairing: Neteyam x Albino na'vi!fem x Sully family

Warning: All the characters are aged up 20’s, bad relationships, teyam is a shy babygurl, soft & crush moments.

Note:Sorry for the late update, I've had a lot of work to do and I'm finally on vacation. I will try to catch up. But thank you so much for all the love you have given to this series. BTW… I'll keep answering requests. I have a lot of them in my inbox, so please be patient.

AVATAR MASTERLIST | Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 , Part 4,Part 5(final)

3 weeks had passed since the Sully family took you into their home. Your injury had healed, and little by little you had started to help more in the family home. Because the camp was a rather uncomfortable and small place. Neytiri convinced you to live completely in the family hut, in a way she felt responsible for you. After all she was the one who had found you in the jungle. She also felt that you needed her, so she promised herself to take care of you. Jake didn't mind this, he thought it was adorable… to see neytiri so worried about a girl totally different from them. But he supported his mate's decision, you were a girl who had lost her entire clan. They should help you and make you feel like part of the new clan. Or so they were trying.

The Omaticaya had never interacted with the Na'vi of the cold mountains. They had heard stories, and only a few had seen a few. Your clan was known to be very polite, a bit of a hermit and not very sociable. They were not aggressive, but they did not like to mix with other clans. Besides the physical and social differences. Your clan was different in their way of living. In the last few weeks you could see how everyone did their chores, how the clan lived together. Of course, all this from the door of the hut. You were still a little afraid to go out, you had walked around the hut. But no more than that. You were curious, how you were going to help them. You had to learn to do something. You hadn't noticed, but Kiri had already come closer to you. Sitting down next to you. "Hey…what are you looking at? Are you looking at tarsem?" kiri teased a little. This comment caught the attention of neteyam, who was getting his things ready to go fishing. "Oh no" you laugh nervously, yes you had noticed this guy's presence, but that wasn't what you were looking at.

Neteyam clears his throat, coming over to where you two were sitting. "What are you two talking about?" the boy asks, playing dumb. "mmm nothing…about Y/N. She's spying tarsem, that's bad" kiri continues teasing. "Stop!!!" you push her a little. As your eyes meet neteyam's, he had a forced smile on his face. The last few weeks, ever since you had arrived at the hut. Neteyam has been silently close to you and your baby. Watching you from afar, or sitting closer to you at meal times. Helping you take care of him, or just holding him while you did other things. Making sure everything was okay, of course…all with a low profile. Everyone thought neteyam was being nice and wanted you to feel at home. So did the other members of the family, but you… you knew this was not the case. Neteyam was forgetting that your gift as a seer allowed you to feel and see things that others did not. You didn't know exactly what that feeling was that neteyam radiated when he was around you. But you knew it wasn't something normal…it was something very intense.

"Tarsem is a guy…quite interesting" neteyam speaks with a hint of annoyance in his tone of voice. Playing with your baby, which was in your lap. Kiri laughs again, nudging his brother on the shoulder. "He's interesting…and he's very cute" kiri looks at you, watching you roll your eyes back. "I'm not looking at him…I'm looking at that" you point to the group of women who were separating some fruit. Others were making baskets. "Ahh they're just picking fruit" speaks neteyam.

"They didn't do that in my clan…in the cold there are no fruit trees" you say, while still looking at the group of women. Kiri and neteyam stand silently looking at each other. "No fruit? So what did you eat?" asks Kiri. "Meat…and some berries and herbs" you smile awkwardly. You watch the look on kiri's face turn to one of sadness. "It must be very sad," says Kiri. You laugh and settle closer to neteyam. "It's no big deal… my clan was located in the area where there are many storms. So these foods are perfect for survival" you try to explain to them, but you could still see the anguish in their eyes. If it could be a bit depressing, you could occasionally enjoy some fruits that survived in the cold snow. But you were used to it. "But… I'm glad to be here, I've eaten a lot of fruits and I love them" you smile shyly. Noticing how neteyam was literally glued to your side. Your arm was bumping against his. After a short silence, neteyam had an idea.

"Why don't you come with me to get some fruits?" asks neteyam, placing his hand on your thigh. You bristle under his touch, he doesn't know what he's doing to you. Of course, he couldn't feel what you could, it was all too intense. "I'd like to…but" you lower your gaze, watching as your baby played with one of your braids. Braids that Neytiri had made for you the night before. Kiri steps up, and takes the baby in her arms. "I'll take care of him…it will be good for you to go for a walk" says Kiri. You think about it for a moment, but agree. Herwì had just turned 2 months old, so he was a little easier to take care the baby. You stare at Kiri for a moment, you swear you can hear a voice saying "he'll be fine". You panic a little, they turn your head. "Everything okay?" kiri asks, you try to laugh. "Yeah, yeah….esta fine, if anything happens you look me for me" you agree. Watching as neteyam gets up from the floor, going to get some baskets.

"So what are we waiting for….let's go" neteyam says, placing his hand on your back guiding you. You give a last to kiri and then walk out of the hut. The further you walked, the more surprised you became. Not only by the differences between the na'vi. But by the amount of humans walking normally, it made you a little nervous. You knew that everyone got along well, and that these humans were not dangerous, even your instinct told you that you shouldn't be afraid. But still… you felt fear. "How about we go to my ikran, what do you think?" neteyam asks you, trying to distract you. "Really?" you sound excited, ever since you had seen the ikran you wanted to ride them. A couple more minutes and you are ahead of the ikran. You grab the creature's head. Neteyam is silent, watching his ikran go calm under your touch.

"You are precious" you whisper, closing your eyes. Neteyam's ikran becomes even quieter, just as you touch it. You could feel its heartbeat, you look up, staring into the animal's eyes. "You haven't named it, why?" you look at neteyam, who had already walked beside you. "Ahh I don't know… I didn't think he wanted a name" says neteyam laughing a little. Holding up the baskets. "Well yes…you should" you speak. "I should" there is a small pause between the two of you. "Ok…all set" neteyam climbs into his ikran, inviting you. You take his hand, and he helps you get comfortable. "Hold me tight" neteyam says, as you wrap your arms around his waist. Holding you tightly, so that the ikran begins to fly.

The view was so beautiful. The mountains, the wildlife. The clouds that adorned the tops of the trees. Neteyam was silent, noticing how you were relaxing. Just as you were gaining altitude, in the distance you could see what had once been your home, Neteyam's eyes opened wide. You could see the large area that had been burned. As smoke billowed from the burned trees and floated up to the heights. Neteyam can feel your grip getting tighter. He moves one of his hands, to touch yours. Which was now on his chest, giving it a squeeze. "That was my home" you speak, laying your head on his back. Neteyam holds your hand tighter. "I'm sorry…I'm so sorry" neteyam feels you settle more on his back hugging him, he knew you were looking for some comfort. Neteyam has never seen first-hand what the brutal loss of his clan was like. Neytiri and Jake only talked superficially about it. Sure, he had seen destruction. But the destruction of this magnitude never. And that you had experienced it firsthand, it broke his heart. He felt bad…knowing that his mother had to suffer as much as you did. Or worse.

Neteyam diverts his ikran a bit, to take another route, and so get away from the area. After flying for a while, you both land on a branch. You cautiously climb down from the beast, while Neteyam begins to place several baskets on his shoulder. "I told you that I'm not very good at climbing?" you say, looking down at the ground. "No? Why?" neteyam comes to your side, looking at your worried face. "Well… I didn't have the need to climb trees. I was just…walking" you feel yourself getting a little dizzy, seeing the height of the tree to the ground. Neteyam holds you by the arm. "Oh I understand…mmm climb on my back" says neteyam, bending down to be more below your height. You move closer, hugging his neck. Feeling neteyam's hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you up onto his back in one swift movement. "Hold on tight," neteyam says.

"You're not going to let go…are you?" neteyam can feel how nervous you are, you're shaking a little. And your tail was thumping his hands. "No…but if you want me to release you to the ground" neteyam jokes with you loosening his grip a little. You scream and hug him tighter. "Just kidding… calm down" neteyam starts to climb down the tree carefully, it wasn't very tall. So you reached the ground quickly. Carefully releasing you on the ground, making sure you were okay.

"Well…that wasn't so bad" you speak, adjusting several pieces of your top. You were still getting used to how revealing these clothes felt. Neteyam comes over, and adjusts a piece. Carefully, checking to make sure it was in the right place. You stand still, noticing how carefully he touched you and cared for you. So different…so kind. Making your heart clench. "If we follow this path…there are some trees that have the best fruits" neteyam speaks, he was so close to you. You could see all his expressions, and how his little ears moved as he tried to find his way through the jungle. Taking your hand, to start walking. You don't complain, you let him guide you. After walking for a while, about 6 minutes. You get to where the trees were. They were all full of yellow and red fruits.

"It's harvest time…I know you're going to love them," says neteyam, watching you walk away. To get closer and investigate the fruits further. They were so strange to you, Neytiri was bringing another type of fruit to eat..this one was bigger and brighter. "These days are supposed to start picking this fruit…look" neteyam plucks a fruit from the tree, and offers it to you. He gestures with his mouth for you to bite into the fruit. You laugh a little, it looked funny. You take it, and take a bite. Enjoying the new texture, taste and smell you were experiencing. Your ears perk up, and your tail starts wagging fast. "You like it, don't you? It tastes wonderful" neteyam asks, munching on a fruit. "This…is delicious" you speak with your mouth full. Neteyam laughs, he thought it was adorable to see you discovering something new for the first time. You both sit on the ground, laying your back on a log. Eating more fruit, while Neteyam told you all about the fruit. He told you that this was not the only fruit there was, that there were hundreds of them and how they should be harvested and cared from them. You listened to him very attentively, surprised that there was such a variety of fruit.

After a while, the two of you started talking about anything and everything. Until the subject of your baby came up. Neteyam was curious. Since you didn't talk about your mate, usually couples talked about their mates. Even if they had died, they still remembered their memory. You had barely mentioned it once. Now you were sitting, eating another piece of fruit. Neteyam cleared his throat and spoke. "Y/N…I have a question?" you could tell the nervousness in his tone of voice. You respond with a "Hmm?" but continue eating your fruit. "I wanted to ask you something about …. the father of your baby" speaks neteyam. He notices how you have stopped eating, and you put the fruit in your lap. You look up, to see neteyam. "I've noticed that you hardly talk about him, and…" you interrupt neteyam.

"seyey was one of the strongest hunters in the whole clan, at such a young age he had a lot of experience. He had earned the respect of the entire clan. Including my father…the clan chief" you pause. So you were the clan chief's daughter, now it all made sense. "I guess…he wanted you to be with him," says neteyam. You nod your head in agreement. "He thought seyey was the perfect mate. Our clan thinks about preserving our lineage, it must be pure. So as soon as we came of age, we united before eywa" you spoke with your eyes on the ground. Neteyam didn't want to say anything, he could see how uncomfortable this topic made you. "The only thing that came out enjoyable, was my son herwì… we were unhappy together". "I'm sorry for everything…" neteyam put his hand on your back. "My father only wanted the clan lineage to stay intact…no matter what I really wanted. He wasn't a bad father, but he didn't listen to me" you speak.

"And what did you want to do?" asks Neteyam, trying to cheer you up a bit. You blush a little, a little embarrassed. "I wanted to be a slinth rider" you speak, neteyam is a little shocked. The slinth were dangerous creatures. "Those creatures are not from the jungle?… they are also very dangerous" neteyam notices how you laugh. "Yes…but the ones found in the cold mountains are another type of slinth…they are just like me" you laugh, taking a bite of fruit. "You can still be a rider…if that's what you want" speaks neteyam. You let out a sigh. "Well…what's done is done. There's nothing I can do about it. Besides…I think I know why I'm here" you tap neteyam on the shoulder.

"Really? And what's that reason?" neteyam moves closer to you. Wiggling playfully. "mmm I can't tell you" you change your face, laughing a little. "Come on…tell me!" speaks neteyam in a soft but at the same time playful tone. The atmosphere had become more peaceful, you both started to laugh. You knew what the reason was, you had a feeling that the reason why he had come to this clan. It was because of neteyam…because of the dream you had of him. Now you just had to find out what was the reason for your encounter with him. You two were so wrapped up in your own world that you didn't hear someone approaching. Neteyam was the first to notice the noises, there wasn't supposed to be anyone in the harvest area yet. Rising to stand in front of you, you carefully stand up.

Neteyam pulls out his knife, ready to strike at anything. But he immediately relaxed when he heard his brother's voice. What the hell is lo'ak doing here, Neteyam thinks. "Don't worry…it's lo'ak" neteyam lowers his weapon, watching as the voice continues to get closer. Out of the bushes comes lo'ak who was talking carelessly next to spider. You let out a low cry, and move quickly behind neteyam. Hugging his arm. "What's that 'thing' doing here?" you sound scared, you had seen the humans. But from far away. You had never seen one so close. "This 'thing' is spider…it's good" lo'ak says trying to calm you down. "Yeah…I don't bite" says spider, laughing a little. Everyone knew what you had been through, so this was a very normal reaction. "I see you" spider gestures with his hands, and you copy his greeting. Looking at neteyam, but not taking off from him. "I promise I won't hurt you…I'm good" spider felt somewhat responsible, even though he hadn't done anything to you.

Lo'ak had talked about you, the last few days. And he was fascinated to meet you. An albino na'vi and from the cold mountains. That sounded wonderful. "You've met norm?…you'd blow his head off" spider jokes a little. But your face turns to horror again. "no…I don't want to blow anyone up" you yell a little, whining. The three boys laugh out loud. "Babe..no. He says norm would be impressed with you. He just said a human quote" neteyam explains to you. "I'm sorry" spider apologizes. He doesn't want to scare you. "And you were doing here?" neteyam asks. Lo'ak points to the fruit in his hand. "Same as you guys…but without the romantic atmosphere" lo'ak scoffs. Neteyam laughs uncomfortably. "Why don't we go back to camp?" neteyam looks at you, and can see that she was still frightened by spider's presence. "Yes…I want to go back" you squeeze neteyam's arm tighter. You two begin your walk back to neteyam's ikran. Hearing the giggles of the boys. "Ignore them…yes?" neteyam takes your hand. You take another look and follow neteyam. "She's…she's very impressive" says spider. "I know…I've never seen anyone like that" says lo'ak.

Near the cold mountains…

"Sir…we've looked everywhere and nothing" says one of the warriors. The man clears his throat, holding back tears from his eyes. He could not look weak in front of his warriors. "Make a scan in the southern area, closer to the village" says the man. The warriors quickly look at each other with concern. "But sir… the humans may be nearby and" the man slaps the ground. "I gave an order!!!" the man shouts, all the young warriors get up and leave the cave.

"Father…I don't think we're going to find her" says a younger boy. The man strokes the back of his neck, letting a tear come out of his eye. This situation was killing him, he had to find her. "tekxe…we have to find your sister. I have a feeling she's still alive" says your father. Eywa always protects his chosen ones.

Teyam babygurls: symptoms-of-moonlight , tru-blubelle, mashiromochi, ducks118, @butterfly-ibuki, @innercreationflower, @ok-boke, @lovelyygirl8, @sandaltoesocks, @he110hon, @inlovewithpandora, @sussybaka10, @mommyneytiri, @daughterofjakesully, @symptoms-of-moonlight @ilostmyaccounf

If there is any problem with the tags, let me know and I will try to fix it as quickly as possible. tag list is open, just let me know *3*//

#avatar the way of water #avatar x y/n #avatar 2022 #avatar x reader #avatar x you #human reader #female y/n #neteyam imagine #neteyam #neteyam oneshot #human y/n #neteyam x human reader #neteyam x reader #atwow #avatar twow #atwow neteyam #neteyam x na'vi albino #neteyam x albino!fem #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam sully #neteyam x na'vi!reader #neteyam series #neteyam smut #sully family #neytiri x you #neytiri #neytiri x reader #kiri sully #avatar 2 #neytiri imagine

[gothicgender]

Heeeeeeey I loved your Velvette head-canons !

But now I need somehting with Alastor. I want to see how accurate you can make him !

What do you think about some fluff with Alastor ? For example slowly dancing with him or visiting Cannibal town with him.

Thank you !

I was waiting for someone to request something like this.

I love Alastor but some fans just make him...less Alastor. He is a maniac and a sadistic man that warms up really slow to someone, like we see him with Nifty. Also he is a manipulator sooo yea...

Fandom : Hazbin Hotel

Type : one-shot

Genre : fluff/ romantic

Warnings : female reader, she/her pronouns used, aroace reader, manipulation, reader doesn't know how to dance, 20s slang used !

Summary : Slowly dancing with Alastor before the battle with Adam

''Whatever redemption really means, I know you all tried. I have seen the good in all of you. And it's...I-I'm just...I love you all, so much, and-and live tonight however you want because-''

''We're all gonna die!''

Those words echoed in your mind for the rest of the night. How were you, the others residents of the hotel and a bunch of cannibals going to battle against THE Adam and his exorcists ?

You couldn't help but look down at the others whiel they were having the night og their lives before the battle. Worry was filling your thoughts. How were you going to live ? How were you going to battle against them ? How were you and the others going to survive ? You sigh and look down at your hands.

''I dub thee, King Roach.''

''Oh, to understand your twisted little mind!''

Maniac laughter brings you out of your thoughts and make you turn to your left to see Alastor and Nifty laughing togheter. How could they be so calm and relaxed when they could be living their last night right now ?

''Why the sad look, my dear ? Like I always say, a smile is a valuable tool ! What's eating you, hmm ?'' Alastor asks you while Nifty rushes to kill some bugs. He lifts a hands to pinch your cheek.

''I'm not sad it's just that....I don't know, aren't you afraid for the battle ? What if we aren't going to make it ?'' You look back down at the others.

''Afraid ? Ha ! Why are you afraid ? With the weapons we have and my help, I think we are going to bumb off those useless beings'' He says his smile widening careless about the big event coming up.

''But...what if we don't ? I don't even know what to do. Charlie said to live however we want and everyone is except me. Aren't you going to do something to make this night memorable for you ?'' You ask Alastor, feeling desperate to do as many things as you could that night...just incase you don't get to do it ever.

Silence fills the air, the only sound being laughter and voices from the others that were at the bar.

Suddenly Alastor clears his throat to get your attention. He exteends a hand to you and leans forward a little.

''I suppose I have an ideea for the night.'' He says and waits for you to take his hand.

''...What is it ?'' You ask him, curious and weirded out at the same time.

''Just a little dance ! Back in the day when I was alive I would always impress the women I danced with. I was quite the hoofer around my town. Come on, baby, I know the best songs !'' He says with a the same big but prouder smile, holding your hand and bringing you closer to himself. He didn't like physical touch that much but it never harmed to dance.

''Alastor, no...'' You protest, as he pulls you away from everyone's eyes and a radio appears on the floor next to the two of you.

''Alastor..I can't really dance'' You sigh and look away embarrased. ''Ah, there's no need to worry my dearest ! Like I mentioned, I always was the wonderful, copacetic dancer ! Just follow my lead and you'll be a ritzy hoofer in no time with a teacher like me''

He says and then an old song from around Alastor's time begins to play. It was a slow but rather elegant song with a man singing about his lover.

Alastor begins to sway you around, holding one of your hands while his other arm was holding your back. I told you to hold his arm and you did, keeping the pace with him...or atleast trying.

''See ? You're already learning sweetheart ! There's no beef big enough to not be resolved, you are quiet a fast learning babe'' He says and begins to dance a little faster. You keep dancing with him as the music continues.

He continues to yap about how he used to dance and freqent a speakeasy. He explained his favorite dances that were the tango and black bottom, tho he only used to dance black bottom when he was really canned. It was a relaxing thing to do when everything was about to go downhill. The dance bought you a nice, pleasant feeling of relaxation as you moved along with the demon. The conversation went on as you kept asking him questions about his time in the 20s. He didn't respond to all the questions but atleast you got an ''I love jazz and used to play it at the radio.'' and a ''I didn't have much time to dance and visit the speakeasy but when I did I was the floorflusher''

You didn't realise when the dance slowed down and when your head begun to rest against his shoulder but suddently the music stops and Alastor pinched your cheek again to bring you back to your senses.

''It was a delightful experience (your name), but as the others went to rest I realised you indeed should too. So, break it up and go to bunk. I need to take care of something first. Sleep well, my dear and thank you for the dance. It really brought back memories.'' Alastor laughs and kisses your hand, a thing he always used to do after finishing dancing, then walks away while you make your way to the stairs. You thank him quietly with a soft smile, feeling just a little tad better.

A dance, 20s style one can sometimes make you feel better and think about something else except the battle.

So, I don't really like how this turned out but uhm- yea....anyway I used a lot of slang from the 20s because I imagine Alastor would most likely knew the slang I mean..he is a radio host.

I kind of rushed the end because I really didn't know how to end it plus it's late and I literally want to sleep so bad (My sleep schedule is really fucked up).

Hope you enjoyed it tho, I liked to reserch the slang.

Thank you for requesting, darling.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #x reader #x female reader #fluff #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor

[obsessedwrhys]

Hi!!! could you make a headcanon of valen with fem merlin please? I've been searching and there's almost nothing ;; thank you also for making the headcanons of other characters ♡

|| VALEN DATING HEADCANONS ||

ᯓ★ just lots of fluff, reader is fem!! (I'm glad you like my other work ☺)

Despite his good looks and the rumours told by the villagers, he's actually inexperienced with love. He's constantly busy with his duties so he never really felt it was necessary to be in a relationship.

That was when he met you and oh boy did he fall head over heels for you HARD.

At first he didn't think much of it and simply just saw it as a task by Hogan to protect you, but the more you guys spent time together, the more he enjoys being by your side.

He was in denial the moment he realised he had developed feelings for you but he also couldn't deny what his heart wanted. So eventually he just chose to go with the flow.

His behaviour wouldn't change drastically but he does seem to develop a few traits when he came to the conclusion that he had a crush on you.

His eyes would linger on you longer when the group discusses on a topic, his brows relaxed as he's giving you the heart eyes.

And how he was always the first person to check up on you after every battles, making sure you weren't hurt anywhere.

He would also notice little details about you. How you seem to rub your arms when you're awkward or play with your hair when you're bored.

There was this one time he noticed you shivering a bit on the cold night so he offered you his cloak/cape, you thanked him which made his heart swoon but his face hid it with a simple smile.

When your group made it back to Holistone after your eventful journey, he was quick to treat everyone with drinks. It was there where he confessed to you.

Scenario ↴

Everyone had left to chat with their friends and he found you drinking alone at your table. With the opportunity in his hand, he slide into the empty seat beside you.

"You're alone, where are your chipmunk friends?" He'd ask with his arm rested on the chair and the other on the table.

"They left to check out the market" You'd say with both your hands wrapped around your glass.

He eyes your face for a while as he tries to think of the right words to say. He gulps but tried to cover it up by pretending to clear his throat.

"I uh—"

"Your face is red"

"Huh?" His eyes widened, but when he realised there was no way out, he ended up relaxing his face with a defeated sigh.

"I guess nothing bypasses the magister. Not even a knight's feelings..." He'd smile warmly at you when it was your turn to be flustered.

The second you guys started dating, it was huge news to the villagers. They were curious how you managed to catch his eye when all of the women have been trying their hardest to get his acknowledgement.

Some even made up rumours that you might have used a love spell on him.

Throughout the relationship, Valen would definitely be affectionate. Expect lots of flirting and corny jokes.

"You’re so beautiful that you made me forget my pickup line"

"Valen go to sleep..."

He's also very open with PDA, nothing too extreme though, just simple things like holding hands and kisses on the cheek or forehead. He just loves to see you smile.

I have a feeling that since you two are dating, it would be easier for Valen to figure out you were Merlin. He wouldn't be mad that you hid it from him but rather he understood your reasons for it. Also, he wouldn't say anything about it until your secret was revealed by Mirael.

He'd just stand there with his hand on the handle of his sword, completely unfazed because what kind of boyfriend would he be if he didn't know that first??

Once your secret was out, expect him to ask lots of questions about your magic.

Like can you give a cat wings?

How does it work?

Could you make him 1 inch taller?

The first time he saw you use your magic outside of battles was when you used it to tie your hair. It baffled him but he had to admit it was fun to watch.

Thats why he would always stare at you all excited whenever you used your magic to do simple tasks. His excuse for his behaviour being "How can I not watch when you look so effortlessly gorgeous 😚"

His petname for you is Dove and this is a headcanon I will defend with all my heart.

He picked the name because he always found doves romantic, the name was easily decided the second you brought love into his life.

I just have a feeling his kisses are playful most of the time but when he's really serious, it'd be the most breathtaking kisses you could ever experience. His hand will always find its place behind your back when you two share the moment.

He definitely adores it when you kiss him too, especially on his cheek where his scar is. He also likes it when you trace your fingers across it because it always help him relax. Your gentle touch soothing his soul from a bad memory.

One more thing. He becomes more protective over you. Not in a bad way though, he knows you can defend yourself with your magic but that doesn't mean he's not gonna try to protect you from the enemy.

He doesn't care if the person is bigger or stronger than him, he'll still draw his sword.

After every fight, you'd always tend to his wounds and even through your complaints at his recklessness, he'd still look at you with genuine love in his gaze.

"You're such an idiot"

"A charming one right?"

He shows you off A LOT. I'm talking like crazy lot. Every conversation he shared with anyone, he's always gonna talk about you several times. It drives Hogan crazy, don't get me wrong, he's happy for you two but he can't seem to get his lovesick head to function.

I make him sound like he's crazy about you (which he kinda is) but it's just he's really proud of you. He's so very supportive of you!! He might even have Chippy and Hammie beat at being your number one fan.

Like hello??? My girlfriend is saving the world here 🙄

Of course, he's a very understanding person. If there's anything you're uncomfortable with, just talk it out with him and he'll make sure it won't happen again.

Now for dates. He likes to take you to the most prettiest spot of Holistone or any places he knows. You guys would just spend time chit chatting or cuddling.

Your personal favourite was when he had managed to plan a picnic for you two on a hill, it was adorable watching him cut the food into smaller slices and then feeding you, it was his way of giving you the princess treatment.

Well he is a knight and it is his duty.

Since he's very affectionate, he can also be a tease. He likes teasing the height difference between you two. He finds it adorable.

"You're so small. Are you sure you're as the myth foretold? The mighty merlin? So cute..." He'd stroke your hair with a smile.

I feel like he'd teach you some skills to defend yourself just in case. He knows your magic is powerful but he's not gonna risk it, not when it comes to you.

The lessons would mostly be basic hand-to-hand combat. There was this one time you managed to beat him in a friendly duel and even though he was going easy on you, he was still proud of you regardless so he showered you with compliments.

Another thing I'd like to add is that he secretly write poems dedicated to you. He's too embarrassed to share them with you so if you ever found out, he thinks he'll actually dig a hole and bury himself alive. He'll only share ONE poem with you once he finishes rereading it for the 19373th time and making sure it's good.

By the way, this man can get jealous. He doesn't like seeing Lorsan get too close to you. Half of the times he'd actually cross his arms without even realising when watching you two talk. You always laugh at his behaviour which he does not appreciate.

"What are you laughing at? I don't see anything funny about it..."

Also did I mention how he smells like white musk?? You know like those scents that you smell and you just feel so in love??? Yeah that.

Honestly... 100/10 BOYFRIEND!!

#SO IN LOVE THAT IM SAD #ROADRUOR #afk journey #afk journey x reader #afk journey fluff #afk journey valen #valen x reader #valen x female reader #afk journey headcanons #afk journey valen x reader #x reader #fluff #headcanons

[ticklygiggles]

hii! for the drabble event, could you please do a reader x scaramouche (genshin) one for me please 🙏 romantic one! thank you so much if you do it!💕💕

[You & I Event - entries closed!]

A/N: first drabble (that turned into a fic skskdk), from this event! I hope you enjoy this! I love Scara so so much I'm dying dkfkfkg

This was highly inspired by that event where Nahida forces Scaramouche to study in the Akademiya and that she'll personally revise his thesis!

Words: 1.5k

Rumor has it that the new Vahumana scholar was dating someone. 

Everyone at the Six Darshans knew about the new student: Hat Guy—ah, no, Scaramouche.

Men and women were crazy about his handsome face and his terrifying intelligence. Scaramouche could write up to three essays of many several pages in a single day on extremely complex topics that even Vahumana's seniors were not able to fully understand.

He was a reserved person and limited himself to speaking only when necessary. He was constantly seen in the library with his nose buried in a book. He wasn't sociable, and his humor wasn't the brightest, so when rumors of Scaramouche having found a mate began to roam the halls of Vahumana, everyone was curious as to who had stolen such a complex person’s heart. 

Were they a student from the Akademiya too? Were they in the same classes as him? Was it a man or a woman? 

They all wanted to know the truth behind all these rumors, but there was no way in all Teyvat that any of them would dare ask Scaramouche directly. So the rumor that Scaramouche was seeing someone would remain a mystery to everyone. 

But of course, there was someone who knew all about it. 

"Ugh, would you stop staring at me? I'm trying to focus here, you're being annoying."

You giggled, looking back at your own book. Scaramouche's mysterious partner was no other but you. One more student of Vahumana who was lucky enough to catch the attention of someone like Hat Guy. It would be a lie if you said that you had not fallen for him long before your classmates relationship turned into a romantic one, but to think Scaramouche would also feel attracted to you… well, that was something you were not expecting. 

"You're doing it again!"

You laughed, "I'm sorry," you said, smiling brightly. "You're just so pretty, I can't help but stare." 

Scaramouche made a face that had you laughing again.

"You're so weird, why am I even dating you?" 

"Because I have a great personality and I love you nicely?" 

Scaramouche huffed, but by the pink hue appearing over his ears it was more than evident that you were right. 

"Let me finish my thesis," he mumbled shyly.

Your boyfriend was not hard to love, he was actually quite easy to read for you. You could know what he wanted and needed at any time because, even though he had a big brain for school work, he was terrible at expressing his own feelings, good thing he had you. 

"I think we should take a break."

"Not now."

"You are tired though," you said, closing your book. "And perhaps a little hungry, and maybe also thirsty?" You watched with great pleasure as Scaramouche's pencil halted for a second before he continued to scribble here and there, you smirked. "Maybe also… in need of cuddles?"

"I have to finish this thesis soon," he growled, completely avoiding your eyes and clearing his throat. "You can go and eat and drink and… whatever you want to do, by yourself.”

You chuckled. His painfully shy personality towards you always warmed your heart. He truly was not hard to love, on the contrary, you knew, even though he was still reluctant to tell you about his past, that he needed love. So desperately so, if you dared to say. And you thanked the Dendro Archon in every chance you had for his existence.

But he didn’t need to know that, you thought, his face would probably explode if you dared to tell him about your little prayers. 

You giggled, leaning in closer to him, arms touching. “I’d be very bored if you’re not there with me, though,” you said, blushing yourself when his ears turned red. “I also think that you should rest. We’ve been working nonstop since morning, isn’t it dark outside already?”

Scaramouche turned his head to look outside the window. It was indeed dark already. 

“... I have to finish,” he insisted and you rolled your eyes fondly.

“You can finish,” you said, hugging his arm and expecting him to push you away but he didn’t. “I will help you as much as I can and as much as you allow me, but we need to take a break, otherwise you’re going to tire yourself and you will not be able to work, hmm?”

Scaramouche wasn’t writing anymore, he was listening to you carefully, his fair cheeks glowing beautifully red, you resisted the urge to kiss them. 

“Or should I make you take a rest?”

He perked a little at that and he finally turned to look at you. His eyebrows furrowed slightly, trying to appear intimidating to you, but all you wanted to do was kiss him. 

“What- What do you mean?” He said, cautious and just slightly nervous. 

“I don’t know, I have my methods,” you said, shrugging. “Unless you decide to take a rest, that is.”

Scaramouche looked at you intently, his eyes jumping from left to right, staring at your own orbs. His lips were slightly pursed in thought and his eyebrows almost touched in the middle from how hard he was frowning. You smiled brightly at him, making him jump slightly and turn his head back to his thesis. 

“I can’t. Let me work.”

You were not expecting him to agree and you could only giggle, leaning your head against his shoulder. It had to be the hard way, huh? Well, that was what he asked for. 

Silence reigned in the room once more. The sound of Scaramouche's book pages and his pencil writing rapidly seemed to echo against the walls of your room. It was a soft, relaxing sound, you felt like you could fall asleep at any moment, but no. None of you could sleep for now. Scaramouche seemed to be relaxed, his features had turned to his usual color and he seemed to lean in closer to you. 

This was the perfect chance. 

The jacket of his casual attire had fallen a bit off his shoulder because of you hugging his arm, so shifting a little, you placed a tender kiss to his bare skin. He shuddered slightly and made a little sound deep in his throat when you kissed his shoulder one more time and another and another. 

“Stop, I can’t focus if you’re- haah, w-wait, I- ahahahaha! Gehehet your hahahands ohohoff!”

Success! Between tender kisses that made his skin prickle with goosebumps, Scaramouche had failed to notice both your hands sneaking under his arm, fingers wiggling against his armpit, tickling him nicely. He had also failed to try to hold his laugh back, and now that sweet sound filled your ears making you smile brightly.

"Stahahap tihihihis instahahant!" 

"Sure thing! Tell me, are we going to eat first or just walk around for a bit?"

Scaramouche shook his head and he tried to talk, but his words got lost between his loud cackles. Ah, how could he be so ticklish, you wondered. He simply didn't look like the ticklish type, but there he was cackling with his head thrown back as he tried to squirm away from you. 

"You can't talk? Does it tickle too badly?" Scaramouche nodded. "I'm just tickling one armpit, though, should I get the other one?"

"NOAHAHAHA!"

"Ah! So you can talk, silly boyfriend of mine!" You said playfully, your fingers unstoppable. "Tell me, are we going to continue working like this?"

Even though he was nearly laughing his head off, Scaramouche stubbornly refused to let you win this, but that was okay, you were not one to give up either. 

Smirking against his shoulder, one of your hands pulled out from under his arm and quickly sneaked under the leg of his shorts, your fingers easily finding that tender spot that always drove him up the wall. 

"OKAHAHAY!" Scaramouche shrieked, his knees hitting against the desk when he brought them up. "Fine! FIHIHINE! Nohohot thehehere, PLEHEHEASE!" 

You giggled, your cheeks pink. "So are we going to-

"EHEHEHAHT! Wehehehe'll eat fihihirst!"

"Very well!"

As quickly and surprisingly your attack had started, it finished, causing Scaramouche to collapse against his chair, giggling softly and twitching a little. You grinned, leaning to kiss his flushed cheek.

"Hmm, what would you like to eat? I kind of want-" You couldn't finish, all words got sealed in your mouth when Scaramouche pressed his lips against yours, giving you a tender kiss that made you feel like you had reached Celestia. 

You cupped his cheeks and he shyly wrapped his arms around waist as he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you.

When you both pulled apart, breathless and flushed, your eyes met and a giggle made its way out from your lips, making him smile softly. 

"Maybe we should do the cuddling first."

"Hmph," he said, closing his eyes. "If that is what you want, I guess it's okay."

You chuckled. Ah, he was so easy to love and you were so lucky to be loved back by him. 

#genshin impact #genshin impact tickling #scaramouche x Reader #wanderer x Reader #ticklish!scaramouche #you & i event #mia's things #mia's fics #tickle fic

[rorichuu]

raaah! i love your acc layout /gen omg >:O !!

anyway, if it’s not too much to ask for could i request sniper x fem(or gn) reader who’s basically miss paulings assistant? (lol the asisstants-asisstant), like miss pauling is out of work one day and reader takes her place ^^

thanks sm! it can be hc’s, or a fic or like, whatever u want basically cuz i think it’s a pretty complicated req :’) it’s 100% okay if you can’t complete the req/don’t feel comfortable doing so :D

close eye — sniper x assistant!reader

pairing: sniper x fem!reader

authors note: omg hello! and thank you so much! :D this is such a fun request, i seriously loved writing this! also omg this might be a bit jumbled cuz it's 2:51 AM heheh so please bear with me :) — thank you for the request, friend!

disclaimer: none besides the use of sniper's real name (mick, mundy, etc.)! enjoy!

when you were introduced by miss pauling right before she had to leave was pretty brief.

she's a busy woman! and you accepted the temporary position happily!

but as you greeted everyone, one man stayed behind; observing.

as curious as you were, you tried to advance, but was sorely interrupted by a chatty scout.

as politely as you could, you tried to pry from the conversation, only to find the tall new zealander to be far gone.

with a defeated huff, you began the day as you previously intended.

honestly, this man is kinda nervous around you in some sorts.

he probably hasn't interacted with a woman outside of miss pauling (merely because of his job, he's obviously greeted women before)

but as much as he had thought of coming up to you, he always kinda of scurried away before you could catch sight of him

a little nervous and very skeptical...

.

.

.

The horrid sun beat down on your skin as you frustratingly looked through the papers clipped on Miss Pauling's board. You were biting your lip in concentration to finally catch what you were looking for. "Aha!" You exclaim in victory. You look up, eyes immediately squinting at your forgetfulness. You held the clipboard with one hand as the other lifted to your forehead to dismiss the sun the best you could, to finally catch sight of Sniper's van. "Can't hide from me..." You whisper to yourself before you march over.

You come to a stop at the van door, lifting your hand to raise a loud knocking sound to catch his attention. You waited patiently before hearing the sound of his boots hitting against the paved wood. You were then greeted by the man's presence. His eyebrows furrowed, lips forming a thin line in observation of your awaiting figure. His red sleeves were rolled up, one hand on the door handle, the other on the door frame. Sniper leaned out, his figure shadowing yours as he waited expectantly. "Yes?" His voice spoke low, informing you he had possibly just woken up from a nap.

You caught yourself staring, cheeks flushed red at his ruffled hair and button-down shirt. (Although, it could very well be the heat...) You clear your throat. "Yes! I know we haven't properly met... but I have a job that requires you," You said, noticing the man sending you a curt nod. "Uhm, right. And, of course, these are all confirmed by Miss Pauling! I'm simply her messenger and advisor for the day." You happily said, lifting the mood as the man took in your words. With a small acknowledged hum, his arm begun to pull back; and the door then closed.

"Sure, mate." Bam.

? ? ?

"What?" You muttered out, stepping back a bit before looking around rapidly. What just happened!? "M-Mr. Mundy! I haven't even explained what the job pertains to!" You tried to reason, but as time slowly started to slip by, he gave you zero sign that he was interested.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. 3 hours after y/n's introductions .

Sniper held his gun close as he observed you quietly. With one eye shut and the other following you.

Sniper was admittedly suspicious.

Of course, Miss Pauling had directly introduced you to everyone... but occasions like this were rare. So he did what no other merc even considered doing.

He observed your every move.

Sniper's lip curled in a small scowl, ripping away from his scope as he noticed you chatting away with Medic over some job, he was sure. Now listen, Sniper wasn't trying to find some dirt on you, he was just cautious. He had to be! That's what part of his job entailed! But your bubbly presence made it hard to suspect you. Desperately, he tried to let it go. But he couldn't help but have his mind think about just you.

Why couldn't he stop thinking about you?

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀. the present .

"Mister Mundy, if you don't take this job, Miss Pauling will be quite upset with the both of us! God forbid the administrator gets involved... Ugh, Sniper get out here right now!" Of course, this didn't work. Sniper was snickering in his van as he leaned against his seat near the door. His arms were crossed and one leg lay limp on his knee. Mick wore a cocky smile that left you raising your hand and bickering with a shut door, this was quite entertaining.

You huff, hand resting on the top of your head now as you admit defeat. The sun began to drunken your mind as you swayed slightly, leaning against the vehicle, you began to fan yourself with the clipboard. You just accepted the fact you may get in trouble with this.

... Slowly, time passed, it had been a short minute that Sniper began to grow suspicious of the sudden quietness that lurked outside his door. He then heard a small thump and a sliding noise erupt from beyond the wall he sat against. He began to stand, hand now wrapped against the handle as he leaned outside to find the sun taking it's unruly toll on you. "Mind if I come in?"

"Yeah yeah, don't kill yourself out here, mate..."

While his thick accent invited you in, begrudgingly, you nearly ran inside with how fast you wanted to escape the unforgiving heat. He looked over his shoulder to find you faced directly in front of his fan, watching you slump thankfully against the breeze. He scoffed, grabbing two mugs to start a new coffee pot.

"The job," this had caught your attention immediately. "Tell me about it." With a low rumble of his voice, you found yourself watching his back as he grabbed coffee beans and his small machine... which lay in the back of his remote kitchen. Your eyes lit up in clear relief.

"Mhm, right, of course," You cleared your throat, remaining professional the best you could. "There's obvious suspicion up in Teufort... you and the others are needed to scope the enemy in hopes of eliminating any future advances." You snicker. Sniper turns around.

"Was that... a pun?"

"Perhaps."

"Cripes..." Sniper's lips fall into a small smile, turning back to aid to the coffee before walking back over. "Drink." He replies shortly, hand out while he offers the hot coffee. You take it before he leans back and sits right where he was before. You take it graciously after you thank him.

The van keeps quiet for a while, a comfortable silence as you made some notes and read the rest of Miss Pauling's clipboard. "You done then?" Your ears twitch at the sudden sound, you take a second to respond.

"Pardon?" You turn, facing him as your eyes follow up to his. He's looking down at his mug before maintaining eye-contact with you.

"After this. You're gone?" This time his question is much more clear. You can tell Sniper doesn't like eye contact, keeping his space and eyes wandering. You notice this. You let out a small huff.

"Ah, I'll be outta your hair before you know it." You joke, although your shoulders slump in a saddened way. Sniper looks at you in the corner of his eye before taking another slug of his coffee.

"Bummer..."

"Yes, I know. You'd best be celebrating soon- ... uh, hm?" Your head lifts from your papers to see the man swirling his mug before looking at you.

"I said bummer." He repeats himself before he's left getting another cup. You can feel your cheeks getting red... and you being. Very confused. Your hand twitches, almost losing your pen before regaining your composure. "They need'ja out there, best get goin', mate." He announced before turning around and leaning on his counter, looking at you over his mug. You flush once more.

"Right, I appreciate your time and patience, Sniper," you send a quick smile before brushing down your skirt and handing your mug over. "Thank you for the hospitality." You said quietly, nervous around the Australian. He takes it and nods. “See ya’ around miss.”

Taking that as your sign to leave, the click of your heels are soon echoed and left with a small click of his trailer door. Sniper looks at the handle for a while, anxious to see you again.

You were lovely company.

.

.

.

rorichuu!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress #tf2 sniper #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper x reader #tf2 x reader #sniper headcanons #sniper tf2 #sniper fluff #sniper x reader fluff #tf2 mercs #rorichuu!

[luhafraser]

Let me be clear: although many think I don't have a real life, I do. I'm not just a Tumblr account... I have a family, dogs and a cat. I'm currently recovering from bronchitis 😮‍💨🫁, and dealing with the school holidays 👧🏼🛝 and lots to do at work. 🤯🤯🤯 That's why I'm not at all sorry for being MIA... I have my priorities, my family and my health...

I've said it a few times... Sam and Cait's shitshow is just a pastime for me... So back off, nasty Anons... You're wasting your time here🖕😜

---

It's not a real timeline, but look at this amazing script... Brilliant... 😝🤣

1) Sam in London; 2) a "fan" says Sam was with a "female friend"; 3) Susie in London; 4) P's innuendos; 5) Susie posts latergrams in a hotel room and gym, it looks like one of rooms at the Firmdale hotels; 6) P says she won't publish without a real evidence 🤣; 7) Susie returns to her home; 8) Another "fan" says she saw Sam on a flight to Gran Canaria; 9) Sam shows himself in a mysterious room on IG Live; 10) Sam's small group of stalkers (surprisingly, they're not the evil shippers 😜🤣) certainly discover that it's not a room in a luxurious hotel (the kind Sam usually stays in) ***(Sam has people monitoring his online steps and who he follows on Instagram, etc... Nothing new there... But I'm curious how someone who isn't a fan gets "here"?! And this fandom have some here, they are not fans of Sam and Cait or Outlander. See below 😉); 11) P releases the name of the new blonde; 12) the current blonde posts several pics/videos showing some gym in Gran Canaria and an airbnb Villa; 13) Sam's voice appears in two of the blonde's videos; 14) B posts the blonde's airbnb Villa; 15) The war of the "queens of Mordor" begins (I don't believe anything about this war, but it's funny and keeps people entertained, just what SamCait and PR want); 16) B says that airbnb Villa is not the place where Sam did his Live; 17) B goes back on what she said, and shows that the male SH and the female SH are in the same Villa 🤣; 18) Chaos begins in the fandom; 19) Sam appears in Austria/Audi Ambassador stuff; 20) blonde posts with her son at her home (latergram... 🤦🏻‍♀️); 21) Ok... Susie, Sarah, who will be the next S? ⏰️

😜🤣

***⬇️

Script to look like James Bond... Women and cars... ?! 🤦🏻‍♀️😬 No, you are not Bond, Mr. Heughan... Sorry! 😝😂

---

But on the other hand...

You know.. I'm not on the "gay train", but hey... I can't blame anyone who thinks he's gay. And have you noticed how several women, linked to Sam, are always traveling to paradisiacal beaches or going to gyms with their gay friends... ?!? You don't even need to follow them on Instagram to know this, there are accounts here that posted everything about them... All that was missing was their blood type... 😝🤣

"Hawaiigate Oops Gran Canaria gate" didn't seem like a good script to prove that Sam occasionally has affairs with women... Even because the place is known for...

But, it certainly moves things around here... Just saying 🤷🏻‍♀️😂

---

OMG... Laughing a lot with #Samarah... 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

---

And Sam/PR decided to fix a flaw in the script and his speech, something that became a joke in this fandom, at least among shippers...

There are women in Glasgow, people! After 10 years, he finally had time to meet a woman there...

Amen 🙌

🤣🤣🤣

---

I find it very difficult for a taurus man, who calls himself a romantic, who is used to staying in hotels like those from the FS and Firmdale chains and who has already made this type of comment...

Taking his supposed girlfriend to a place with these reviews... 🤔😬😂

After 10 years, Sam knowing how this fandom is, being the guy who claims to preserve his loved ones, would he leave breadcrumbs for "fans" to create a new story if he was really dating this woman? I'm amazed that she, with a son, gets involved in this shitshow, but who will know her reasons.... Even Cait used her pregnancy and child in the Belfast promo.

---

Let's see if Sam will follow P's wishes and take Sarah to the TCND event... And let's pray 🙏.

I see THE RING 👰🏼‍♀️ #Samarah 🤣🤣🤣 This didn't even take 7 days, it seems! 🤣🤣🤣

---

I still spend my free time looking at what SamCait shows and what this fandom says because I want to see the end of this shit, when Sam no longer has P or B and his onlys... One day Sam and Cait will fall into oblivion and that's why that they keep feeding this whole circus... What, or rather, who would Sam and Cait be without all this crap? I think it's funny that Sam pulls all this on himself... Except during promo, he's the one who moves things around here (right now Gran Canaria gate, Austria trip, Scottish Sun article, a new company with an enigmatic name... It could be SDFGINEEDTHISSHITSHOWCVBN 😝🤣, "Audi Quattro",...). But to me... This seems like something from someone protecting their loved ones, taking on all the shit for himself. Although, every now and then Cait needs to show that she is alive and with her husband by her side.

I watch and wait... And I know I'm not alone in this! 🧘🏻‍♀️😜

#sam heughan #caitriona balfe #sam and caitriona #outlander #shit show #fake life #it's a shitshow #fandom #outlander fandom

[wizzard890]

Hello! I'm someone who really enjoys makeup, but has recently in the past few years begun to view makeup and the makeup industry more broadly as something that is really detrimental to women. You seem to be in somewhat of the same position, and I admire your thoughts, so I was curious how you reconcile those positions or if you feel the need to reconcile them at all? Please ignore this ask if it's intrusive or weird lol

You can't reconcile them. You really can't. The beauty industry exists to churn out propaganda, inventing flaws and offering us fixes for a price, before moving on to the new (usually opposite, so you don't already have the tools) trend.

I'm in my thirties, I've seen the beauty industry turn into a nightmarish hydra that I never could have imagined as a teenager. The speed with which people create and zero in on new physical nitpicks, the ubiquity of filters and plastic surgery, that skincare (literally unless you have a specific ailment, a soft cleanser and nothing else will do you just fine) has become a lunatic self-flagellation in the name of some kind of nebulous Purity, just the endless chasing and chasing and chasing of that new thing that new miracle bottle, whatever will finally make you less disgusting for living in a human body. It's rancid. But it’s always been like this. Just slower.

And it's important to be intellectually honest about all this. The reason we think we look better with our lips a certain color, or our skin being a certain texture is because beauty culture has spent hundreds of years and trillions of dollars rotting our brains. None of this is real. You know that you find the people you love the most attractive when they're comfortable and bare faced and being themselves. Contour would change literally nothing about your feelings in that moment.

I enjoy makeup. I like gold eyeliner and deep berry lipsticks and a stain of blush. Why? Because I also have brain rot, and think I look Better with it on. You can't dismantle the entire wretched apparatus on your own, but you can be clear with yourself about why you believe what you believe. As my wife pointed out when I talked to her about this ask, even saying "I just like to decorate my face" doesn't hold water. You don't know what you natively like to do with your face, when it comes to beauty. You've spent your whole life marinating in propaganda. It gets into everything.

Due to my Ancient Years, I am no longer expected to be Young And Hot, which means I don't put on makeup on to run errands, and I don't feel like a full face is necessary to see friends or get dinner on a weeknight. I've started trying to treat makeup like I'd treat a pair of high heels: sometimes it's nice to feel dressed up, and in some environments heels are part of the dress code. Sometimes you wear heels to show your partner that you put in extra effort for them, or to make sure someone knows you took an occasion seriously.

Tellingly, heels also exist to fix a "failure" in your appearance.

It's like finding smoking sexy. Smoking kills you, unambiguously. And yet....it's hard not to feel like you'd be cooler if you had a cigarette in your hand. No one is immune to the manipulations of propaganda. But it is propaganda, plain and simple, and we shouldn't twist ourselves in knots to defend the lies it tells us, or try to make them ~praxis~. Beauty culture is exactly the same.

#yikes scoob! #it's rotten all the way down #(speaking of heels nothing makes me roll my eyes more than watching a movie where A Woman In Heels Does The Thing Like The Men) #(like oo wow she managed to be useful without losing her desirability!! yas queen) #and I wear heels! #I own many lipsticks! #I am not better than you #but you HAVE to be honest #you can't pretend there's a tension between good makeup (for me!) and bad beauty culture (for Others) #it's all for others #and surprise others is capitalism and the politics of desirability #makeup games #(lol I made that tag back when I was pretending at the aforementioned tension)

[connan-l]

YOKAI: Since you hate men, please make me your shiki. Hey, Nanase.

TAKUMA: You're popular as usual. NANASE: For God's sake... They're all fooling around, just because Matoba isn't here. They may be imitating women, but they are all bothersome monsters.

—Volume 21, Special 17.

It's funny that sometimes I think saying Nanase is canonically a lesbian is reading too much into it given the only evidence we have is One scene that's just subtext and coding (and okay her wearing that suit, that's a very soft butch gay suit. And then there's her fascination for Reiko but I don't think that really counts, and that's mostly developed in the anime sadly), but then I reread that moment from Special 17 and I'm like. umm. Midorikawa what was the purpose of that scene if not to tell us she is Very Gay lmao

I just love the implication that apparently Nanase being a lesbian is such a widely known fact within the exorcist community that yokai literally take the appeareance of women to flirt with her. Like okay. Even Takuma coments that she's "popular as usual," which granted he's just teasing her about the yokai flirting with her here but still. What's your history Miss Nanase 😭 Do you think when she was young she was a ladykiller who went around seducing all the female exorcists so that's why she has that reputation lol

Also I'm kind of mad about how the official English translation did that specific scene:

YOKAI: We don't like men. Won't you please make me your servant? C'mon, Nanase.

Like. At least they still come off as flirting with her, and yes, the original Japanese can be a little ambiguous — but honestly that's pretty clear the yokai are not talking about themselves but that they're talking about Nanase.

YOKAI: 男は嫌いなんだよう だからさあ 式にしておくれぇ ねぇ七瀬

"Otoko wa kirai nandayou" make little sense to translate it as "WE don't like men"... They're clearly talking about Nanase disliking men here, especially within the scene's context given what Nanase says next? She basically states that those yokai took the appearance of women to "fool around [with her]," so what would be the point of doing this if not because Nanase "hate men"?

It pisses me off a little, like c'mon. I don't really think it was deliberate but that's still annoying because it does somewhat change the gay subtext. At least recently they still kept Shinobu's flirting with women intact so I hope that was still some unintentional mistake on their part but well.

I hope the new anime season adapt this scene properly too and that the sub/dub don't mess it up (the anime do tend to give Nanase a lot of screentime so I'm curious about how they'll adapt this tbh.)

#Natsume Yuujinchou #Natsume's Book of Friends #NatsuYuu #Nanase #Nanase NatsuYuu #Natsuchou #Natsume #Nanase (Natsume's Book of Friends)