#Edge and Blue are also very sweet together

[spookitordukeit]

In your fic tbasawas was there anything specific that inspired you to do your specific stories and or ships?

Yes and no—

For the story itself:

Originally, I only had concepts for Aeiisy, a dark fic with a skeleton reader who is constantly having a Bad Time. But, as with most of my ideas, it got split into two different paths. (This is how I end up with most of my fic ideas btw) You might see a few similarities, or even direct reflections between a few of my works, and that’s because they are all directly or indirectly formed from a few of the same ideas, split into separate paths.

Like an au I guess???

Tbasawas was made as a direct counter to Aeiisy, so I wouldn’t pass away from angst and could have something sweet a fluffy to write whenever I got burnt out. (Ignoring the amount of angst that ended up in Tbasawas anyway… and the fluff that got put into Aeiisy…. Don’t look at me!!)

So Tbasawas was inspired by Aeiisy, and Aeiisy was inspired by the need for a skele reader, Monster Frisk, and an apocalypse fic. Not sure how any of that connects, but that’s how it went down.

Tbasawas is a soft apocalypse, if that’s even a thing. Their changes aren’t gory and the world isn’t riddled with war and violence. Just people treated like lost puppies in a cozy adoption center waiting for their ‘forever home’. For the most part.

I take a lot of inspiration directly from animal adoption processes. The whole shebang. Paperwork, wait time, vetting, inspections, background checks, introductions, acclimation— Hell, even the Assigned Nurse can be compared to a Foster. The Mimic Monitors are essentially juiced up microchips.

I’m pretty sure I even used a template for the adoption of a dog from a serious breeder for the letter that Abbee gives Nerma to explain to process. And the email Edge receives  in chapter one.

There’s a lot of themes in Tbasawas going on. Another one is the grieving process, as hinted at in the title of the first chapter. Arc one: Shock.

I’m using this version of the grieving process in particular:

I’m not sure how strictly I’ll follow it, but it’s definitely there in the background, at the very least.

As for inspiration for the relationships:

It’s all kinda based around these themes and how I think the characters would be changed by them.

I’ve changed these characters a lot. Maybe not much physically for most,(that you can see.. wink wonk) but I’ve taken a lot of liberty with their stories and backgrounds. And in the tags for Tbasawas, this universe is listed under post neutral route… not pacifist. Do with that information what you will.

Based on these changes, I think about how they might act. What makes the most sense. What they feel, what kind of person would they feel most comfortable around and what kind would they hate? Do they have insecurities? Are there any fears that they might be judged? Would that stop them from getting close to specific skeletons in the pack? *cough* Sparrow *cough*

Are they jealous or possessive? Holding on to the one good thing that’s happened to them and waiting for the other show to drop?? Even if it hinders the others ability to seek out relationships with others of the pack??? *cough* Red *cough*

I kinda just zone out and smash dolls together in my mind until I get something I like. Not all that cool of a process, but it’s what works for me.

Speaking of! Let’s use Red and Sparrow as an example!!!

*grabs my mental dolls of Red and Sparrow in my hands and smacks them together*

*loud incorrect buzzer sound*

Yep. Knew that would happen. See— Red is chill around the pack, but there’s not a lot of… feelings??? He has this disconnect inside him, whether from his LV, his trauma, or if that’s simply just how he handles his emotions, I’m not sure.

There’s this wall that he has up. He cares for the pack, and for his brother, of course he does! He’d kill for them. That was never in question. He’s just… distant. The only one who can really, really get close is Comet. And that’s mainly because they’re so similar it hurts. They’re in the same, sinking boat. Drifting out in the middle of the ocean as they keep hammering in nails in hopes they won’t drown.

Red is heavily complex, and no one knows just how to solve him and tell him to stop making so many damn holes in his boat before it’s unrepairable.

He’s smoke and mirrors with knives that will cut you if you take a wrong step.

Sparrow, is also withdrawn. But for very different reasons.

He’s not shy, per say— but he’s very conscious how he looks and how he’s perceived. He knows that he’s not as handsome as he once was (lies), he knows that he looks frightening, even to other Monsters.

His self esteem is very low, it’s been getting better thanks to his pack, but it’s still not great. He hides a lot of things about himself, whether out of shame or for the perceived benefit of the other person is a 50/50 at any given moment.

His status as a sigma doesn’t help. There are already enough stigmas about people like him and Star, if Sparrow can’t do what’s expected of him— if he falls into stereotypes—

…he doesn’t like to think about it.

He’s not as able bodied anymore, and his senses are both dulled and heightened to uncomfortable degrees. He needs to be able to trust the people around him. He needs to know that they won’t think lower of him for his weakness. He needs to know that he can depend on them and they won’t just up and leave.

Red has given no indication that he is capable of providing any of those assurances. He has in fact proven quite the opposite.

At this point in time, Red and Sparrow could never be in a relationship. Sparrow would likely end up cut on Red’s knives and shattered glass, and Red would keep hammering more fucking nails into his boat. Unaware that it’s the very thing that keeps brining in more water.

Augh. So long story short: insanity.

The idea for the story popped in my head and then I stared at characters until the imploded in my brain like a super nova and then they kept forming fun new galaxies for me to explore.

I guess it’s my characters that give me inspiration. I just wanna slap my dolls together and see wtf happens, I have no idea where I’m going and I’m equally as surprised as you are at every chapter🗿🗿🗿

I just wanna see Edge be soft and have his little found family, and to feel like he’s allowed to exist in the world despite his sins.

I wanna see Grim be an absolute menace and Get Bitches, because he loves his idiots and just wants to live life at his laziest.

I wanna see Bear put a ring on as many hoes as he likes and get to be happy and smug and purr as he crushes them (lovingly) in his nest.

I wanna see Stretch be soft and fuss about his mates and then punish them for their stupidity with various pranks.

I wanna see Star huff and lovingly bully his mates into being kind to them selves, forcing them to take it easy or face the wrath of Self Care days.

I wanna see Comet get yoinked out of his tiny shell and actually mean it when he smiles his little bastard smiles, and to be able to reach out and form other relationships within the pack.

I wanna see Black get his ass Wooed and his icy rain bloom into spring showers because he feels loved and able to be soft and love in turn.

I wanna see Blue live his life to the fullest and prioritize his own feelings sometimes and remember that it’s okay to want things.

I wanna see Sparrow have each and every one of his boo boos kissed and told that he’s handsome and I want him to accept it and be confident.

And I wanna see Red get a happy ending. I want to see his sharp edges, both the ones facing inside and out, to get smoothed out. I wanna see this bastard get soft and mushy. I’m gonna turn his ass into a grumpy marshmallow just you wait.

And of course, I want to see Nerma be the spark that gets this thing moving.

I’m just a simp…. That is all 😔

[latenightdaydreams]

I'm thinking how Konig would react when his wife call him with full him in an argument (about culture bc I'm Asian ehe), like it's a sign of seriousness.

It's the same in my culture! I love thinking about giant König just freezing knowing he went too far😶

Laundry Day (fem)

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, argument, fluff

.

.

König has recently retired so that means that he is home constantly now. It means that you both get to spend a lot of time together and you love it, but sometimes he talks to you as Colonel König instead of just your Kö. Today was one of those days.

König comes into the laundry room wearing a towel around his waist as he has just gotten out of the shower. He is holding black workout shorts in his hand with an annoyed look on his face.

“Y/n, you didn’t wash my gym clothes?”

“No, today I only washed bed sheets and towels so far, I’ll get to them.”

“Nien, I told you to wash them last night.” He snaps back quickly.

At this point König is becoming very demanding and his voice has become stern, as if you’re his subordinate. You continue to fold towels and place them into the laundry basket. Trying to remain calm to not make König explode further. After a lifetime in the military, he has remaining traumas and it causes him to act out. You try to not take it so personally, but it’s hard.

“I know, but I wasn’t aware you needed them for today.”

“Of course I would, I work out every day!” He raises his voice slightly.

You take a deep breath, placing the towel down and turning to him. “Yes, but I wasn’t aware that you had no more clean-”

“Why would I ask you if I had clean clothes!” He cuts you off and yells this time.

You tighten your jaw and glare at him. You might be smaller than him, but you aren’t going to just let him walk all over you.

“Maybe next time you should inform me of your schedule and I-”

“Ich bin dein Ehemann! You do what I say, when I ask!” König’s pale face turns bright red as he yells at you, holding up his shorts in a bit of blind rage directed at you.

You’ve had enough, he knows better than to speak to you this way. You toss the basket of clean towels on the floor and turn towards him. The look in your eyes puts fear in the giant man’s heart.

“Alexander Jan König! You DO NOT speak to me that way!” Your voice is loud and stern.

König looks at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. He is stunned, he isn’t used to people speaking to him like that; especially not his sweet wife. He doesn’t say anything. His face softens and his shoulders drop. His pale blue eyes glued to you, he’s still too scared to move or say anything.

“Do you understand?!”

“Ja-y-yes.” He stumbles over his words as he stands up straight.

“Good!” you walk past him out of the laundry room and he just watches you go before looking back down at the towels on the floor. He listens to you stomp away and slam the bedroom door. He is terrified, but also slightly aroused. 

He quickly bends down and begins to clean up the towels on the floor. He begins to start the washer to clean them again for you, he also plans on drying and folding. He goes back to the bathroom and grabs his own gym clothes and gets them ready to be washed next. 

Going into the kitchen, he saw dishes in the sink and began to wash them for you. He looks at the clock once he is done and only twenty minutes have passed, but he is still in his towel from the shower so he tries to go up into the bedroom to see if you’re okay.

As you sit on the bed with your arms crossed, still angry, you hear a light knock at the bedroom door.

“Liebling?” König’s voice is gentle as if he’s talking to a child.

“What?”

König opens the door slightly and pokes his head in. His eyes meet yours and he smiles at you timidly.

“Hallo mein Herz, can I come in?”

“Sure.”

König walks in like a dog with his tail between his legs. Your eyes travel over his attractive body as he makes his way to the bed and sits at the edge.

“I-I’m sorry…” the words struggle to leave his lips. Not because he doesn’t feel bad, but because his ego is so fucking big. “I’m sorry I snapped.”

You continue to just sit there and look at him as his head is dropped and his gaze is to the floor, “And what else?”

He turns his head to the side to look at you but quickly looks back away when he sees how mad you still are.

“And I’ll never do it again.”

“And?”

“I’ll take you out tonight for dinner, I can buy you whatever you want.”

You just look at him, up and down. A small smile comes up across your lips. You love to see this behemoth war criminal melt at your feet like this.

“Good. I also want a massage.”

“Absolutely.” König nods while he looks at you. “I’m very sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

König looks at you with a genuine sympathetic look in his eyes. You're the one person in this world that understands him, he never meant to hurt or lash out at you.

“Thank you for apologizing Kö.”

He reaches his hand out for yours with a small smile on his lips. You reach out and intertwin your fingers with his. König can feel himself begin to relax as he squeezes your hand.

[sorcerous-caress]

Type of romantic gifts they'd give you

[Bg3, fluff, nb!reader]

[Wyll, Karlach, Gale, Shadowheart, Astarion, Laezel, Halsin, Minthara, Karniss]

Wyll

Flowers. Each bouquet conveys a different meaning and tells a hundred tales about his feelings for you. From the petal colours to the delicate ribbon holding the stems together, not a single detail was overlooked.

Enteries to both worlds. Invites to the most eloquent galas reserved for the noble class, elegent clothes and glittering jewellery. And warm heartfelt welcomes into the most popular tavrens for adventurers, even the dangerous ones greet you and Wyll with cold drinks and a warm meal.

A shoulder to lean on, someone to be your own hero. The royalty treatment becomes the norm for you, a quiet dance in your shared home, swaying slowly as the rain scatters against the windows outside.

.

Karlach

Cheesy handmade coupons for hugs. Physical affection is a big part of the way she shows love, yet no hugs feel better than the ones she knows both of you want, rather than only her. These hand drawn coupons are to give her reassurance in a way that you also crave her embrace as much as she does.

Taking you out to her favourite spots. Introducing you to all her past and current friends. Absolutely involving you in every aspect of her inner circles and slowly integrating you into her world. She wants all the people that she loves to know each other, to be there, and to support each other. Friends, family, and neighbours, she craves a community.

Carrying your stuff. Be it your bags, equipment, or anything. She enjoys being strong for you, never letting you lift a heavy thing ever. Giving you her jacket if you get cold, even switching your shoes if yours are uncomfortable. Dress however you want, she knows how to fight after all.

.

Gale

Homecooked meals. Frozen soup in food containers. You'll never go hungry with him around. Love is a major ingredient in each dish he makes, recipes passed down from generations. Restaurants' food becomes dull in comparison. No bakery dessert can compare to his home baked pie.

A picnic near the sea side. It's windy, the air is refreshing and nice. Waves come crashing gently, almost brushing against your feet before retreating back. Tara purrs in your lap, her wings warming your hand underneath it as you scratch her fur. Gale is by your side, telling you about a new discovery he made in his research. Content in staying by your side despite the crown laying at the bottom of the ocean in front of you.

Constellations seeming brighter, the sky looks as if it held twice as many stars than usual. There's a sparkle in his eyes, wrinkles at their edges from his smile.

.

Shadowheart

Wine/non-alcoholic drinks and sweets. She has a taste for delicacies and sharing them with you. Whatever she picks, it's always somehow very rich in flavour, melts against the tongue, and the aftertaste is an experience by itself.

Takes you to her home, visiting her parents who welcomed you as if you were another child of theirs. For the first time in her life, she has a family, and she wants to include you in it. You are a part of it, after all. A part of her.

Nursing your sickness away, sticking with you through thick and thin. Even at your most ill of states. She doesn't pat an eye at you throwing up, sneezing, or not having the energy to shower. She helps you through it. She never judges you over it, unconditional love in its purest forms as she ensures your recovery.

.

Astarion

Precious poetry he wrote himself. As much as he scoffs over anything too chessy, he can't help using his mother tongue and spinning endless lines about you in elvish in his private journal. On the rare occasion, giving you a glimpse through it. Pretending to leave his journal open by pure coincidence in front of you, on the exact page of the peom with your name on it.

The both of you traverse the underdark. He takes you to a special spot he found under a sussur tree. The blue glow of the silver branches lights up the edges of his hair like a halo, and your eyelids feel heavy with your head on his lap.

Stiching the holes in your clothes. Maintaining them in his free time and making sure they are cared for. Each piece that might hold a sentimental value to you or a precious memory receives special treatment from him. Sometimes, he stiches a joke or two into your undergarments that you don't realise until much later on.

.

Laezel

Gifts you a sharp and expertly smithed sword. Silver in colour with various ruby red stones decorating the handle, it feels at home in your grip, specifically made for your hands.

Takes you as her guide through Faerun, let's you introduce her to the places you love, the things you like. You can tell her interest is genuine, he curiosity is evident as she tries everything you recommend to her.

Reads to you, each night she'd indulge your curiosities and read one of the many githyanki literature disks you've accumulated. Her voice never tires, she pronounces each word with care and emotion. It's beyond soothing, even her comments inbetween narrating the story never fail to make you smile.

.

Halsin

Blessings of nature extend to you as well. The birds don't fly away when you approach, the tree branches don't get caught in your clothes, and the bugs take a polite detour around you as they crawl. He shares the love he received with you.

You've never seen so many children rush to you before, look up to you with respect, and search for guidance. He grants you the opportunity to raise the ones who will hold the torch after us, to imped your wisdom upon them, and help shape a better future.

Never growing cold again, buried deep against his soft fur as gaint bear paws hold you so softly. Despite the pouring snow outside, you sink deeper into his warm embrace. Cute round ears flicker in the corner of your vision, and you can't help but rub them alongside his soft belly.

.

Minthara

jewellery, each one is unique and more expensive than the last. Various earrings with pearls and necklaces with glittering diamonds. Even a special one that hugs your neck deliciously, with her name on it. Body accessories hugging your curves and wrapping around you. A pair of matching rings.

Takes you into her heart, behind the iron walls, behind the mazes of ice. Shows you her tender beating vulnerable flesh, the small kindness she protected so fiercely and hid from the world. Her true love, yours for the taking and yours alone.

The disembodied heads of your enemies in a gift box wrapped for you, everyone who has ever wronged you has their skulls displayed on the shelves. She becomes your blade, your sword and shield.

.

Karniss

Prayers. Offers them to you as he kneels, talking in a hushed tone as he begs a greater being for your safety, for your heart, and for you love. For their blessings upon him to shield you from the darkness, his split mind making him seeth in anger and hatred at all those who dared hurt or question you.

Brings you to his nest, a small cave with tight webs shielding the entrance. He teaches you how to slip through them, holds you close as he lifts you in his arms and makes passage inside. You're a very welcome addition to his home, his sanctuary.

Gifts you his venom regularly. Whether it's a kiss as his fangs slip past your soft lips and bleed venom down your throat, or a bite into the soft flesh of your neck that injects it directly into your veins. He builds up your resistance slowly so he may protect you from himself and anyone who tries to steal your life away.

[ajortga]

opposites attract

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: people would call you and jenna the old married couple from across the street, you'd always argue. you hate each other so much, but you love each other even more.

word count: 2.1k+

warnings: alcohol, goofiness, hilarious imo

based off request! (love you 🦦)

-

ME AGAIN. I JUST LOVE TO SEND OUT REQUESTS FOR SPECIFIC WRITERS 🙏🏻

Jenna Ortega! x Reader!

"In every friend group, there are always two people arguing"

holy shit this dynamic is so cute, it's like wherein obvi J and R likes to argue a lot, whether it be going out w friends, in set, sleepovers, literally just everywhere all the time.. In the end obviously they get together 🙈 YOU CAN DO ABSOLUTELY WHATEVER W THE PLOT IF YOU'D LIKE.

Completely understand if the request isn't taken!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SM, I LOVE YOU

-🦦

-

It’s silent on set where Scream is being filmed. Silence would’ve filled your break room, that would be if you and Jenna weren’t damn yelling at each other over the littlest of things.

“You fucking cheated!” You accuse, pointing your finger at her as you go crazy and throw your Uno cards everywhere.

The tinier girl puts her hands up, putting one to her chest to pretend to be offended, “The Y/N is accusing me of cheating? When will I clearly won fair and square?”

That throws you off the edge, screaming into a pillow and kicking your feet, then throwing the pillow straight to her head. “I saw you looking at my cards dumbass!”

The atmosphere is chaotic as you two throw pillows at each other, one of them hits Melissa in the nose, “Hey!” She goes, throwing a pillow to Mason, which throws it to Jasmine.

Everyone is throwing their pillows at each other, screaming and laughing. Actually, not everyone is screaming, the only ones are you and Jenna.

“I WAS GLANCING AT THE SCENERY.”

“SINCE WHEN WAS THE SCENERY MY CARDS?” You yell, throwing the stuffed animal at her.

Jasmine nudges Melissa, who lets her pillow down and lets her friend whisper in her ear, “Who’s going to tell them that they’re flirting?” 

A cackle escapes the other actress, “She’s definitely always thinking Y/N is the beautiful scenery. In which she is, she’s like the days that have the best sunsets. She’s a sweetheart.”

That was true. Although Jenna won’t admit it. You were breathtaking. You were like the movie that everyone wants to watch again for the first time. Whose voice was a gentle lullaby that lulled those into a peaceful rest. A work of art, Jenna would say. A work of art she’d fucking hate, yet still buy it’s worth for billions of dollars more than they should be.

“Okay FINE! I peeked! I just saw that you had a yellow seven! That’s it!”

“Exactly!” You say, throwing the stuffed animal up and victory, “Nuh uh, you also said half-way through the game as a joke “I bet you have a blue four,” and I had a blue four!”

“FINE, but that was all!”

“Whatever.”

Mason rolls his eyes as he leans back into his chair, throwing a huge stuffed animal and making you collapse and go, “Hey!”

“They’re gonna get married one day, they’re like an old married couple,” He states, and everyone that hears agrees, except you two. You two are too caught up with arguing with each other, smacking pillows at each other.

“Asshole.”

Grunt!

“Bitch.”

Smack!

“Weirdo!”

“Goofball!”

Plomp!

“Silly!”

“Pretty!”

“Sweet girl.”

“Lovely!”

“Gosh, well aren’t they oblivious?” Jasmine scoffs, “Their flirting and don't even know it, they’ll use that as an excuse for another argument again. Melissa watches, amused, and laughing in the background with a cackle. You two are hitting each other with any pillows you can find.

-

liked by melissabarreram and 1,890,072 others

y/n_l/n this is very not an appreciation post for jenna, the first two i'm posting cause she told me not to but she cheated in uno and she's getting what she deserves! (someone save me from this mad woman)

#justicefory/n i hate you @jennaortega

-

melissabarreram: My babies #justicefory/n

liked by y/n_l/n

natalieortega1: Love you

↳ y/n_l/n: love u too!

crunchybaguette55: y/n is seriously blessing us with these photos

aliyah.ortega: nah why is jenna more flexible than me

liked by y/n_l/n

user839: watch jenna is gonna post something about her

jasminsavoy: lovebirds

liked by y/n_l/n

y/n'spersonalbag: SHE POSTED I'M EARLY

jennaortega: I hate you

↳ y/n_l/n: Ilyt

-

Melissa screams while the members of the cast begin to elevate up the roller coaster. 

“Oh god!” Mason shouts, while you two begin to lift off the floor from the free fall device.

“If the machine were to break and fall, would we bounce out of our seats or bang our head?” Jenna questions, looking down at her feet that are currently 100 to 150 feet off the ground.

You’re right next to her, yet you have to shout because of how loud the machine is, “Nuh uh! None of that stuff, if the machine were to break, then the starting point wouldn’t be as lifted and our feet would probably dislocate.” 

“Pfft, nonsense,” Jenna rolls her eyes, and you try kicking her but as you reach the top, it slowly begins to stop lifting up. 

“Guys!” Jasmine yells, looking down at the floor, she’s still holding her pretzel in her hand. The people below you now look like at least the size of a caterpillar. 

“It’s kind of tall!” Melissa says, but she’s giggling.

“No damn shit!” You say, looking at the floor and preparing for your heart to fly out of your chest, “Hold my hand!” Jenna jokes while you roll her eyes at her.

When you stop at the top, the machine makes a loud “TCCHhhHH” noise, and you are all still. 

“I DON’T WANNA DIE,” Mikey and Devyn cry, screaming.

“We haven’t even gone down- YET!” Everyone starts screaming as the seats you’re in descends at fast speeds. You all scream, high pitched, wails, singing to get your mind off of whatever. Devyn and Jasmine flutter their eyes and do a peace sign when the camera flashes. 

You close your eyes, the machine goes back up, then down, you’re screaming, laughing as Mason’s sandal falls out, “No! My shoe!”

It hits the person operating the roller coaster.

Somehow, your hand finds Jenna’s as you cling onto it, she doesn’t let go, giggling with you as you two fall. It was a nice moment, the breeze in your hair with the sunset saying hello. Except you don’t know if the moment got better or was ruined because before you can appreciate it, Jasmine screams, louder than she had when everyone dropped.

“My pretzels!” She screams, falling out of her hand and flying into the air, the cinnamon pretzels falling and smacking you and Jenna in the face as you feel a flash in your face again, you pose just as it clicks.

“I WANNA GO HOME!” Mason wails, “Where the fuck is my shoe? MY SHOE!”

By the time you reach ground level, everyone’s hair is ruffled, eyes dazed as your legs shake when you leave the machine.

You’re still holding hands with Jenna as you almost collapse on each other, you feel dizzy, probably because the machine was damn spinning and a pretzel got smacked into your face.

"You okay?" she asks, looking at your dizzied form.

"Mmhm, are you okay?" you ask, the feeling of throwing up going away.

She nods, letting you cling onto her as she hugs you tight.

"You're so weak," she teases.

"Says the one who screamed more from a pretzel being thrown in her face than the actual ride."

She smacks you, but nonetheless, still holds you tight to her chest.

Mason looks at the floor, and claps, turning happy, “My sandal!”

Everyone is groaning, Melissa is snorting and looking sick while Devyn and Jasmine shove their hands through the little amount of pretzels left in their bag.

You’re not surprised when everyone busts out laughing, pointing at the pictures of you on the rollercoaster. The first one, Devyn and Jasmine were making peace signs while somehow being able to do the slightest pose, Mason’s shoe is flying and you can see his mouth wide open with one foot barefoot, Melissa is smiling with cotton candy in her mouth, and you and Jenna are screaming and clinging onto each other.

The next one gets more chaotic, with Jasmine and Devyn looking horrified, the whole picture has pretzels flying and hits Jenna and you square in the head. Yet, the frame only catches Jenna’s face being smacked while you’re posing with your hands and blowing a kiss.

You’re laughing so hard, everyone is buying the photos, you can’t stop laughing as Jenna screams from the horror.

“How did they only take a picture when the pretzel gets to me?" She groans.

-

liked by jackchampion and 4,971,391 others

jennaortega i don't know how that little girl managed to hide all her bad photos on my phone but melissa took a photo of her falling asleep on my shoulder, i did not cheat! cancel!! @y/n_l/n

jasminsavoy: little? girl, you're the size of a strawberry.

↳ jennaortega: fuck you respectfully

y/n_l/n: NO i was sleeping because filming was so long

↳ jennaortega: yeah and you decided to sleep on my shoulder, do you know how heavy your head is?

↳ y/n_l/n: meanie

jennasorange: I love you Jenna please notice me

melissabarreram: Love!

natalieortega1: My girls

fruitrollupsa: omg someone confirm are they official

jackchampion: I saw you looking at y/n's cards

↳ jennaortega: no you didn't

↳ jackchampion: actually i did 🤓☝️

-

It was a little after sunset, where outside is painted a blue and purple sky.

“To a long day of maintaining our sanity for today’s long duration of filming!” Devyn says, raising her drink.

“To a long day of maintaining our sanity!” Everyone else cheers, you bring your drinks up and clank them with one another before downing it.

You liked it like this. Having parties every Friday with your scream cast. They were your family, most times you’d have sleepovers, play card games, video games, gossip. Silly photos were taken, and these polaroids were always hung on your wall of memories, Melissa holding her puppy while doing a bridge gymnastic pose, risking her skull from literally cracking.

You take the sip of beer in your hands, with a wide smile on your face. It’s nice knowing you have a group that you can easily fit in, you don’t have to think to speak, you can just do it freely.

A few minutes turn into an hour.

Melissa turns to you, pointing at you and smiling, "You're going to be the first one to get wasted, your cheeks are all pink."

"No their not!" You retaliate, a small slur to your words as you lean on the couch for balance.

"Right," Jasmine says, sarcastically as Jack and Mason are screaming at each other.

"Jack no! If you take that one off then the whole tower will fall! We can't lose!" Mason screams, the Jenga tower tilting.

You giggle.

You catch sight of Jenna and you throw your arms up, stumbling to her while slurring her name slightly, "Jennaaaa, where were youu?"

The brunette looks at you, confusion shown in her futures as she looks at your tiny self, looking up at her and tugging at the collar of her shirt. Your eyes sparkle.

"You're seriously already a little drunk?" She questions, amused as you groan and shake your head, "Noo, shut 'p. You're drunk tooo Jennifer. I literally am not drunk, I know waaht m doing."

"Right, right."

"Jennifer, kiss my forehead,"

"If you call me Jennifer one more time I swear to-"

"Jellybean?"

Jenna rolls her eyes, hugging you and kissing your forehead, "Love you," she murmurs.

"I love you tooo."

She sits you down to the couch where you get the sight of Mason, Jack, Melissa, and Liana are battling each other in Jenga.

"I'm not drunk, I just drank a little, I'm perfectly fine," she states. You don't say anything, instead distract yourself with the large jacket draped over her, you tug it, "I'm cold, give me that."

Jenna looks down at you, trying to take off her jacket, "Hey! What if I'm cold too?"

"Can we share?"

Jenna sighs, rolling her eyes, "Come here," you nestle into her as the jacket plays as a blanket.

It's not enough to cover the two of you, so she throws it into her bag and grabs a large blanket and lays it on the floor. The hollers of the Jenga crew grow loud as the tower tumbles over because of Jack.

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT ONE IT WAS GOING TO FALL"

"OH YEAH, oops. I forgot." Jack says, putting his hands up in surrender.

The blanket is huge, it can fit at least 4 people.

"Hey Melissa, over here, let's turn into a burrito or something." The taller Latina that's non-occupied looks at you two, seeing the way you're already laying on the blanket, ready to be wrapped up.

You're squished in the middle as Melissa giggles and Jenna begins to roll over and wrap you 3 in the blanket.

"Oh my god," you three roll till the blanket space runs out, now you guys are cuddled, nestling into each other.

Cozy for sure, all of their arms are wrapped around you and each other as you close your eyes, getting comfortable.

"I hate you two," Jenna murmurs, both you and Melissa go "me too" before you two are silent.

"No you don't," you slur, "You love us."

"I don't, I love you guys," she giggles, and you and Melissa smile, hugging each other and letting the sound of music from the party echoing in your ears.

-

a/n: didn't know how to make them confess, so the ending is kind of suggested that they did? hopefully that's okay<3

[aikaterini-drag]

Fragile Embrace

Summary: Bucky is afraid to hug you tightly because of the serum in his system. You sweetly convince him otherwise.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: established relationship, implied smut, fluff, intimacy.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of a single lamp casting shadows across the walls in your bedroom. Bucky sat stiffly on the edge of the bed, his shoulders tense, his hands clasped. He stayed silence, every inch of him hating his strength—the damned serum that felt like a curse.

Across the room, you watched him with concern and understanding. You had seen this struggle in him before, the internal battle he waged against his own abilities. He was afraid to let his true strength show, afraid to be anything other than super gentle with you.

You approached him slowly, your footsteps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. Still, he could hear you. He was a super soldier, he knew the rhythm of your heartbeats inside out, knew the pattern of your breaths. He could also tell that you longed for his hugs—not just simple tender hugs, but the kind that squeezed you tightly, conveying the depth of your love. But every time you had reached out, he had pulled away, a look of agony in his eyes.

He couldn’t allow himself to let his guard down with you. He knew better than anyone what his strength could do, the damage it could cause… A small mishap and he could hurt you, and the mere thought of that broke his heart.

“James,” you said softly, your voice like a gentle breeze, “you don’t have to be afraid. I know you can’t always control your strength, but I trust you, and I trust your love for me.”

He turned to look at you, his beautiful blue eyes tormented. “Sweetheart, you don’t understand. You don’t understand how serious this is.”

You knelt in front of him, you hands reaching out to cup his face. “Baby, love isn’t about holding back. It’s about trusting each other, even when things are tough. I’d rather take the risk with you than live without your touch.”

“You feel my touch,” he said, his flesh hand slowly caressing your face.

“Yes. You are so very gentle with me.” You smiled and held his metal one. “I’m grateful but there are times when I want you to let go of your restrains and truly feel our love.”

He kissed your hair and closed his eyes. “I cannot let go of my restrains.”

Smiling gently, you rose to straddle his hips, your hands looping around his shoulders. “Not even a tiny little bit? Please? For me?”

He tensed but carefully embraced you, his hands encompassing your waist. “You are a little menace.”

“And don’t you love that?”

He chuckled. “I do love that. I love everything about you.”

“If you love me that much, then hold me tighter, Sergeant.”

“Like this?” His hands moved to cup your ass, squeezing the soft mounds and squeezing you against his hard body.

You hummed pleasantly. “More.”

With a low growl, he embraced your frame with his strong hands and squeezed just a little tighter. His face pained but when he watched you smile and writhe pleasantly on top of him, he relaxed and maintained his grip on you. You leaned down and brushed your lips together in a deep and wet caress. He responded immediately and coaxed your mouth open with a gentle nudge of his tongue, deepening the kiss.

“More,” you whispered against his mouth, your breaths mingling.

“No… sweets, I’m afraid—”

You framed his face, eyes locking onto his. "James Bucky Barnes," you whispered, your voice soothing yet decisive, "you could never hurt me. Your strength is a part of who you are, but it doesn't define our love.” You smiled, your thumb brushing against his unshaven cheek. "With me, you can always let go. I trust you completely."

“How can you be mine?” His breath ghosted over your lips. “How can this perfect softness be mine?”

“The same way you’re mine. You are mine, Barnes.” You traced his hard chest with your fingers. “This perfect man is mine. All mine.”

He looked at you with misty blue eyes. “You’ve quite undone me, sweets.”

“Make love to me,” you whispered, your mouth trailing a path of warmth along his jawline, stopping just shy of his lips. “Not slow and tender. But hard and emotional. I want to feel you. Every part of you.”

You sensed his apprehension at your words, the lingering doubts. But you crashed them with the loving press of your lips against his. With a trembling sigh, he succumbed, rolling you over, his big frame hovering above you on the bed. He wrapped his arms around you and pressed you down on the mattress.

You keened and he made love to you, holding you strongly, more tightly that he had ever done. It was a start. It was the beginning of your love’s resilience and eagerness to overcome any obstacle together. You found solace in each other's warmth, Bucky’s fear disappearing as he realized that your love was a force more potent than any serum or bionic arm and that he could hold you as close and as tightly as he desired, without ever causing you harm.

[wileys-russo]

Babe I just saw this TikTok and if you felt up for it and have nothing else to do maybe you can make a blurb about R or maybe a Player pranking their girlfriend by hiding in the jacket on the door or something lmao.

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeu9tCRE/

decided to go for ms Misa with this, a clown jump scare II m.rodriguez

this was it, you were finally going to get your revenge.

months, no years, of being the but of the joke, the victim of the countless pranks and the heart attacks from all the jump scares. all of your pathetic attempts to even the score and you were finally about to get a notch in your belt.

no more would you get the infuriating mock pout of sympathy and the pitiful kiss to your cheek or ruffle of your hair with the 'nice try amor, maybe next time.' as if you were just an amusing little source of entertainment.

you'd tried, no begged, for them to stop. though it seemed the more you did so or tried to get even it spurred the clowns on even further to mess with you.

you thought that when one of them had finally grown into her ears and you realised she was actually quite sweet and cute, you might have the protection one expects comes with a girlfriend as sometimes hot headed and passionate as misa.

but no, if anything once the two of you were officially together it only seemed even more of a green light for not just her but the rest of her little circus to continually mess with you.

you got a brief reprise when playing at club level together for real madrid, misa had less of her little playmates around then to spur her on and help with her antics.

but it was national camps where they really thrived, and you suffered at their hands.

it had gotten to the point you knew they kept score, noting down in a little blue book how many times each of them could scare you during camp, leaving you horribly on edge and double checking every corner and every room you walked into.

your other much more mature and level headed teammates took pity on you and attempted to provide aid, warning you ahead of time as best they could when they heard wind of potential set ups which you were immensely grateful for.

you'd originally had no plans of retaliation, instead taking on board irene's advice to just ignore them and as best you could give them no reaction to feed off of knowing that often spurred them on more than anything else.

mapi and leila used to be two of the worst, constantly jumping out from corners or hiding under your bed after swiping your key card with nimble fingers, relentlessly competitive with one another for who could gain more points for scaring you each camp.

then came jenni and virginia, upping things by adding in not only the jump scares but also ridiculously juvenile pranks that had a scowl near permanently etched into your brow the entire camp as you started to make it a routine to be constantly checking over your shoulder.

then it was misa and patri, patri who very easily picked up on your crush on the goalkeeper and her most trusted accomplice and unbeknownst to you tried her very best to use these little jump scares and pranks to force misa to recognize her own unrequited crush on you.

needless to say, it worked. but that did not mean you were no longer fair game.

and so after a morning filled with people jumping out at you from corners and cupboards and your own girlfriend even going as far as to hide herself under one of the canteen tables and grab your ankle when you least expected it causing you to scream and spill half your lunch down the front of you.

her laughter stopped the moment she pulled herself out from the table and saw the near murderous look on your face and the training top now soaked with a delightful mix of recovery shake and tandori chicken.

"no, stay. you leave the poor niña alone to go and change before gym!" alexia grabbed the back of your girlfriends top and yanked her down in her seat as you hurried out of the canteen, ona and aitana quickly following after you.

"its only a joke ale, relajarse." jenni chuckled, not at all phased by the witherly dry look thrown at her by the younger girl who kept a firm hold on the goalkeepers top who stared at the door which you'd exited after like a kicked puppy.

"to you. there are lines, and lunch should not be a time where she needs to fear you idiotas!" alexia rolled her eyes and let go of misa who sank into her chair with a huff, pushing her lunch tray away from her with a scowl.

assuring ona and tana that you were fine and sending them back down to lunch you quickly stripped and changed, wishing you had time for a shower but heading down to the gym knowing lunch was likely already finished.

as soon as you appeared your girlfriend was right by your side attempting to apologize and pull you into a hug. "its okay amor." you promised caressing her cheek as her face lit up. "really?" she asked eagerly.

"no! aléjate de mí." you quipped sharply, your elbow ramming into her stomach as she doubled over with a groan and a grunt and jenni nearly fell backwards off the weights bench clutching her stomach with laughter.

"cariño por favor!" misa called after you still with a groan as you flipped her off and paired up with ona who couldn't keep the grin off her face, alexia slapping your back proudly as she passed to go pair up with irene.

clearly sensing your distaste and simmering anger misa kept her distance though you could still feel her pouty expression and longing puppy dog eyes following after your every move despite that.

during a quick water break you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around with a scowl expecting it to be your girlfriend but your face immediately softened seeing vicky stood there instead.

"off your phone during gym!" you laughed as she opened up tiktok and brushed you off with a shake of your head. "not for me, for you. look!" she held up her phone and you, and ona whose head popped up beside yours, watched a quick video.

"its cute." you chuckled, a little unsure why she was so intent on showing you as both vicky and ona gave you a strange look. "what?" you frowned back at them cluelessly.

"do it to misa, estúpido!" vicky rolled her eyes as ona hummed her agreement and you scoffed. "that? she will just laugh at me!" you protested as both girls disagreed. "maybe. but its also your best bet at scaring her back for once amiga, anything more...complicated, you could not pull off." ona chuckled honestly as vicky nodded eagerly.

"sí! so what have you got to lose?"

~

so now this was it, you were finally going to get your revenge.

was it the grand super slam get backs of all get backs you wished you could pull on not only misa but also all of the girls who found endless amusement in picking on your easily frightened nature? no.

but it was still a notch in your belt and you'd take it.

you hurried off the very moment the session was called to a close, gone in a flash so fast your girlfriend barely saw the back of your head before she blinked and you'd dissapeared.

you knew she needed to sit with the physio for awhile to have her shoulder checked after taking an awkward fall this morning which gave you a small window of time to get ready.

now you'd be lying if you said you didn't feel somewhat ridiculous, your body curled up into itself as you heard her key click open the front door to her hotel room, likely having knocked on yours to find nobody answered.

you both had spare keys to one anothers rooms, but with light fingers you'd swiped yours from misa's bag so she couldn't access your room, and it was near certain she still thought you were mad at her and had refused to open your door for her.

which gratefully meant she would not be expecting you in her room let alone curled up in her jacket on the back of the wardrobe door.

you heard her huff and puff as she made her way about the room, and waited until you heard the squeak of her throwing herself down on her bed with a deep sigh.

you'd thought ahead and left your phone in your room, hearing her groan and mumbled to herself as she tried to call and text you but they went unread and unanswered.

if there was one thing about your girlfriend you knew to be true it was that she often got so caught up in her own head, needing a moment of silence to reflect and process what was going on which you knew to give her space for after hard losses, allowing her to come to you once she was ready.

so like now you heard the room go quiet, misa caught up in her own head and unknown to her, right where you needed her.

you counted to three and gently dropped down, your girlfriend too busy thinking to see your legs ever so carefully hit the floor as you silently slipped out of her jacket and turned, misa still not noticing you.

"hola amor!" you yelled as you leapt at her, launching onto the bed as the girl let out a blood curdling scream and fell right off of it landing on her ass as you collapsed into the mattress laughing.

"finally! finally i got you! i scared you!" you cheered happily bouncing up and down on the bed as the goalkeeper scowled up at you and crossed her arms.

"you got me once. grow up!" you squealed as she stood and pushed at your shoulder mid bounce almost sending you toppling off the bed before you caught yourself.

"yeah i did, and thats a win for me mi vida. put that in your stupid little blue book!" you teased with a grin so wide it almost split your face in half as the girl huffed and sat down on the bed, refusing to meet your eyes and glaring at the wall.

"mis, mi amor you are not allowed to be so pouty and moody after you have spent years terrorising me and i got you back once!" you warned, standing up and staring firmly down at her with your arms crossed.

"i do not terrorise you!" misa frowned as your eyebrows raised questioningly. "okay, maybe i could be a little nicer." the girl grumbled as you scoffed and your eyebrows raised even higher.

"vale vale! ven aquí sexy." the goalkeeper balled your shirt in her fists and tugged you down and on top of her, pout still lightly playing on her lips as she leaned up to press them to yours but you pulled away, sitting up as your legs straddled her hips.

"i'm not kissing you, not till you apologize for lunch which you seem to have forgotten about." you reminded as the girl winced and smiled sheepishly, hands tracing circles on your bare thighs.

"lo siento mucho, mucho, mucho. mi niña muy bonita!" misa apologised sincerely, sitting up herself and kissing all over your face as she repeated the words over and over.

"vale! but promise me, no more messing with me while we eat? that means lunch, breakfast, dinner, all of it." you warned sternly as the girl nodded and mumbled a promise against your lips as you finally let her kiss you properly for a moment.

pulling away you pushed at her chest as she laid back down and you curled into her, exhaling as you relaxed to the sound of her heartbeat, strong hands curved around your back holding you safely in her arms.

"...that still leaves me many many hours of the day to scare you anyway cariño."

[mrpenguinpants]

Ttorschlusspanik [ Commissioned ]

[ Hcs for Dottore where the reader is very sleepy/sleep-deprived and is constantly falling asleep in battle, on dates, or maybe during research and experiments! ]

Word Count: 4k

Ayato Ver: Pale Blue Slumber Semi Part 1: Low Battery Warning [Masterlist]

Thank you so much for commissioning me! You’re so sweet, and I truly appreciate the tip, but I can’t accept this level of generosity. Please let me know if I went under the word count. Also, thank you for your patience—I got really sick this week and am still recovering.

Torshlosspanik. noun. 1. A desperate feeling that something desired is fading, missing, or being taken away. 2. A feeling of frustration when something one has is departing.

A slumbering figure, a nearly empty desk, and foreboding fabric are the greeting signs to the infamous lab. It’s ironic, really. The concept that the Doctor’s domain comes with a “receptionist” setup stationed in front of imposing steel doors, giving the illusion that this place is as normal—and as morally sound—as any other doctor’s office. At best, it’s laughable to think anyone would believe this place accepts patients willingly, let alone frequently enough to require check-ins. Yet, a shabby but sturdy wooden desk stands innocently in the corner of the entrance, its chipping edges lined with plastic chrysanthemums and white lilies. The artificial flowers are faded, their colors dull from years of neglect, as if mocking the very notion of hospitality. Behind the desk sits an equally worn-down office chair, large enough for someone to curl up in. Its fabric is stained and frayed from years of misuse, the cushion lumpy and barely holding its shape but still useable. All for a receptionist, if you can call them that, who spends more time asleep than actually working as an employee in this most unlikely place. Legs curled up on the seat, arms crisscrossed over the knees in a fetal position. A chin tucked towards the chest, hidden from the view of passersby. Back facing toward prying eyes, leaving only the pronounced slouch of their spine visible, an angle practically begging to develop scoliosis. But the most harrowing detail isn’t the position. It’s the unmistakable black-and-white fur coat draped over them like a blanket, the fabric’s presence carrying an air of authority and fear. A coat only gifted to the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. The desk itself is of no help either. There’s no clipboard, no pens, no paper-nothing that could even remotely resemble the tools of an actual receptionist. It’s an empty stage prop, barely held together by the weight of its own absurdity. And yet, for all its flaws, it stands as the gateway to a place no one in their right mind would willingly step into.

No one dares attempt to wake you. Successfully doing so is practically a death sentence, especially if you go whining to Dottore about the unprompted “alarm clock.” He has a reputation for ensuring the offender never makes a sound again. The only ones bold enough to try and emerge unscathed are his fellow Harbingers, though even they tread lightly when it comes to disturbing your slumber. It’s both impressive and deeply concerning how much of a deep sleeper you are. The bustling footsteps of agents pacing outside the lab, their sharp voices discussing assignments, don’t stir you. The deafening clangs of machinery, coupled with the revolting squelches of severed monster parts being dissected, fail to trigger even a flicker of awareness. Not even Tartaglia’s incessant yammering, loud enough to make glass shudder, elicits so much as an irritated swat from you. Instead, you remain in a state of unyielding sleep, utterly detached from the chaos around you. Your peculiar habit has become such a fixture in the lab that the staff barely remember you exist. You sit perched at their entrance and exit, as still and silent as a gargoyle guarding a forgotten ruin. To them, you are little more than part of the backdrop. A slumbering figure whose presence is a curious mix of ominous and benign.

While it's obvious that the answer to rousing you is to find Dottore himself, or one of his segments if he isn’t around, the interesting part is how you wake up. You're not immune to the initial dizziness that comes with awakening. When you finally open your eyes, blinking the sleep away from your eyelashes, you’re always disoriented. Your eyes feel glazed over, as though you’ve gone blind from keeping them closed too long. Yet, there’s always a common theme: you always reach out toward the nearest blue object. Whether it's an odd trinket or a test tube of acidic liquid, your hand automatically tries to grab it and pull it close to you. It’s part of the reason your desk is stationed outside the lab, away from anything potentially dangerous hidden behind heavy steel doors. Artificial blue has been on the rise lately. Luckily, in nature, blue is very rare. Less than one in ten plants has blue flowers, and even fewer animals are blue. Unfortunately, the biggest nuisance has blue eyes—dead as they are. Tartaglia may not like the doctor, but he does like you. Maybe it’s because your sleep demeanor can be categorized as cute, or maybe you remind him of the simple life in an organization that’s so uptight. Regardless, that little fox has been clawing at the wooden legs yapping for attention. It's only made worse you don't bother to dissuade him, only indulging in his playful antics. It's led to many, many, lectures from one particular segment.

It's fascinating watching how each segment interacts with your sleepy demeanor. While each segment has varying features and appearances, under the same clothes and mask, they would be indistinguishable if they stood still and never spoke. The only true way to discern them is through their actions and mental processes. Hence, it's easy to tell who is who by the way they go about holding you.

Omega is by far the least attentive or affectionate toward you. Perhaps it’s because he’s the most selfish of them all. There’s still an ongoing debate over whether his dislike for you stems from the fact that you stand in the way of fulfilling his desires or if his ambitions extend beyond simply overtaking the divine gaze. Or perhaps the divine gaze isn't actually his goal in the first place. Either way, it’s two sides of the same coin. When it’s Omega’s turn to fetch you, he does so as if you were any other patient. Completely beneath him. One arm rests behind his back, while the other holds a piece of paper clenched tightly in his hand. His mouth is set in a firm line as he gazes down at your slumped form. Although the air around him is calm and silent, it doesn’t take a genius to know that if he could get away with it, he’d drag you through the halls by your hair. Alas, that kind of act would get him permanently disassembled, so he settles for unceremoniously flipping you upright. The arm resting on the small of his back is removed and curls under your stomach. With one swift motion, you’re treated like one of Signora’s shopping bags. The sight of a limp body folded in half under an arm that surely digs into the stomach is the best way to know if it’s the Omega segment or not.

Beta, on the other hand. Beta. That maniacal and neurotic freak adores you but couldn’t care less about you. His research typically focuses on fusing humans with machinery to create “better versions” of themselves, and he fully believes in that philosophy. You would look so much better if he were allowed to be your sole care provider. If your drowsiness were caused by a medical condition like heart disease, asthma, pain, or a nerve condition, he could simply replace them, and you’d be perfect. If it were a mental issue, well, he’d love you no matter how unresponsive you might be. It wouldn’t be much different from you being asleep anyway. When it’s Beta’s turn to fetch you, he does so with a waltz. He walks purposefully toward your desk. Loud and firm, his hands fisted at his sides with unrestrained glee, swinging in time with each step. Even with a mask that obscures most of his face, it’s clear to see the overexcited grin stretching across his lips. It’s almost like there’s static buzzing in time with his artificial heart, fuzzy yet electrically sharp. There’s no fanfare, as soon as he’s within arm’s reach, he grabs the nearest piece of skin and hauls you out of the chair. By some miracle, you’re always still asleep from the rough handling, which is more than enough for Beta to wrap his other arm around your waist. Your chests press together, and he swings your body to and fro in his mad dance. The sight of a limp body dragged into a dancing plague that’s surely pulling your stiff joints out of place is the best way to know if it’s Beta or not. Beta has been recently banned from coming within a six-foot radius around you. 

The original Dottore, Zandik, is a unique case. All of the segments originated from him but at different points in time. However, they are still parts of his thoughts and mannerisms. There really is no order in which the segments are ranked, as they can’t compete with each other. What’s more pointless than trying to beat yourself? You’ll still lose in the end. Zandik is a strange mix of every segment yet none at all. When he wants to see you, he does so slowly, with all the time in the world. His methodical steps echo lightly on the concrete floors of the lab, his arms still at his sides yet loose enough that the slightest wind could blow them away. It’s as eerie as it is tranquil. Everything about the original whispers of restrained patience—that when he arrives at the front of your desk, he simply waits. Usually, it takes you hours or even days to wake up on your own, but when it’s Zandik standing at the edge of your daydream, your eyes slide open. Small ripples in the pond. You’re still lethargic, blindly feeling your way back into your body as your eyes ricochet off the walls until they land on blue. A weighted hand reaches out to grab that ashy blue, and another hand meets your fingertips.

It would be cute if it were anyone else. The sight of a man with curly light blue hair, carrying a bundled-up figure dressed in a white coat with a fluffy black collar, legs dangling from either side of his waist while his hands rest on the lump’s presumed back and thighs. It would be so cute indeed, if it were anyone else but Zandik. But for him, it only looks lonely, despite the two of you pressed together.

The moments when you're awake only happen on two occasions: either you just happened to wake up at that time, or it’s check-up day. What kind of doctor would Dottore be if he didn’t conduct physicals for his only patient who manages to live long enough each year? The check-ups happen twice a week, always two days apart. Never past two days of separation. Ever. Your exact relationship dynamic with Dottore remains as obscure as ever as to why he cares so much. Whether you’re old friends who knew each other before Dottore set foot in Snezhnaya or even when Dottore was called a different name. Or maybe a dead lover resurrected as a zombie in the pursuit of selfish greed and glorious progress; both are possible options. The zombie theory at least explains why you’re constantly drowsy. The staff have never seen you eat anything before, and with the abundance of... zombie food, it's not outlandish as much as it is disgusting. The old friend theory would explain why you can stomach being around someone who can fly off the handle at any moment. The most willing yet unwilling patient. No matter how often Dottore has to wrestle you upright, only for you to slump back asleep the next second, he never loses his temper. If he has to strap you into a straitjacket and hang you from the goddamn ceiling to keep you sitting with a straight back, he will. But by no means will he get anything more than slightly miffed. If he has to force-feed you your medicine because you’re too loopy to remember how to swallow, he’ll shove his fingers into the back of your throat with nothing but a blank smile. The only good thing about your sleep-deprived state is that you’re probably so out of it that you can’t feel discomfort. It saves on using the limited supply of anesthesia the lab carries.

Dottore, for lack of a better word, is displeased with your constant need for sleep. He is deeply frustrated with each check-in and the stagnation of your results. For him, bad results are no different from good ones—they’re still a means of moving forward. Something that will tell him which direction to take rather than wandering around aimlessly in the dark. But in your case, there are no significant changes, as if everything he’s done has been for nothing. He could have closed his eyes and spun a wheel for the same results. The day before your check-in is always the calm before the storm because the staff knows that when the next day comes, they’d better keep their heads down or risk losing them. No one is quite sure if your sleepiness stems from mutated genetics or if it’s a side effect of being around Dottore for too long. Stir-craziness and breakdowns are common in the lab, whether among "patients" or "employees." Everyone eventually goes mad, cooped up within the same cell-shaded walls and working under possibly the worst boss imaginable. Add to that the fact that the Fatui don’t believe in “mental health” days, and with no coping mechanisms in sight, it’s unfair to expect anyone to function effectively. Most people eventually devolve into screaming or manic episodes. Perhaps your escape is more literal. A peaceful retreat from reality through sleep. You’re not even sure why you’re constantly sleep-deprived, especially when you spend more time slumbering than awake. At first, you thought you might be narcoleptic or taking the wrong pills; a diagnosis from scratch must take a long time, right? That was until Dottore bluntly called you an idiot. He told you it’s a bad habit to self-diagnose every minor inconvenience. You should let him do all the thinking and simply listen to him. And truthfully, with the haze clouding your mind, it’s too difficult to think clearly anyway. So, you nod and do as you’re told. It’s easier that way.

It doesn’t happen often, but it occurs more than it should, considering who Dottore is and the reputation he holds. If you wish to cross him, you’d better make it count—because it’ll be your last. He’s in the middle of a meeting with Pantalone, arguing over the lab’s finances when a frantic knock interrupts. Apparently, there’s been a scuffle at the entrance of the lab. To Pantalone's knowledge, there aren't any guards or any agents stationed at the doors except for that sleepy receptionist. Perhaps the doctor's staff finally had enough and decided to take their anger on someone who couldn't fight back? Pantalone's not a good enough person to not find amusement in the situation, infinitely curious as to what Dottore's reaction will be to all of this. Whatever the banker decided to gamble on, his expression doesn't twitch as he follows behind his fellow Harbinger as they walk leisurely through the halls, as if the world has come to a standstill. It’s almost amusing that when your life is potentially on the line, he suddenly decides to take a midday stroll. The only indication of his amusement is the slight shake in his shoulders, hinting at a silent laugh. Dottore punches in the lock code and throws open the steel doors before the automatic switch can activate, slipping through as soon as the gap is wide enough. He stops at the shabby wooden desk that’s now gained a few new dents.

This time, you’re curled up on top of the table, your office chair thrown across the room. Broken. It’s no matter, he’s been meaning to replace it anyway. The chair is just another expense to add to his name. He collects you into his arms effortlessly, and you instinctively sink into the familiar hold. A quick scan from head to toe confirms that you’re unharmed, save for a few strands of hair out of place. Behind him, Pantalone lets out a noise of approval as he surveys the scene. In the center of the room stands a robot with a striking design. A star-shaped frame with six triangular segments forms a perfect symmetry. Glowing cyan cores illuminate the metallic structure, positioned at its center and edges. The intricate details combine sharp, crystalline elements with mechanical precision, radiating an aura of both elegance and menace. As expected of the Doctor. Pantalone can’t help but wonder where this machine was hiding when Signora ventured to Inazuma. Perhaps if it had been deployed then, she might have returned in one piece.

Although Dottore no longer needs to sleep to survive, there are times when, as he passes by your sleeping form, he’ll pause. He stands still, staring for what feels like an absurd amount of time, meticulously detailing and recording every breath you take within a single minute. It’s always 17. Sleep occupies about one-third of a person’s life, a significant portion of time that, in Dottore's mind, could be devoted to something useful. Something productive, instead of wasting it frolicking in dreams that neither matter nor will change anything. Yet, even he can’t deny that, occasionally, a break from reality can serve as a fragile bandage over a wound that refuses to heal. A fleeting comfort in an otherwise relentless existence.  

It’s as awkward as it is unnatural. Despite his title as "The Doctor", his hands weren’t designed for gentle touches of flesh and bone. Yet he tries. His fingers twitch involuntarily as he tilts your body to the side, just enough for him to slide in beside you. Carefully, he rests your body against his shoulder. He expects you to jolt awake, his shoulder is bony and hardly a suitable place to rest your head, even when compared to the flaky cushion of the office chair you’ve somehow grown fond of. But you don’t. Of course, you don’t. You simply lay there, your head nestled against his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. No protests, no shifting away, just stillness. The transfer of heat begins, as described by the laws of thermodynamics. Hotter, faster-moving molecules collide with cooler, slower ones, transferring energy in a quiet exchange. No fireworks, no blaring alarms, just the science of touch, as mundane and profound as ever. Zandik dares to lower his chin, letting it rest lightly against your head. His mask doesn’t obscure the quiet moment, though he can feel the unnatural curve of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly. Down here, in the deepest layers of the lab, not even the howling winds of Tsaritsa’s snowstorm can reach. It’s eerily quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of your breathing. For a moment, he wonders what it would be like if you woke up now. If your half-lidded eyes would squint at him in confusion, or if you’d simply close them again, surrendering to the haze of sleep. But you don’t stir. Instead, he lets himself linger, suspended between an unusual warmth and the cold detachment of his own thoughts

"Breaks" are not something you can indulge in down in the labs. The closest the staff ever got was when one of the Harbingers passed away, and even then, it lasted only half a day before they were right back to work. Still, if you ask nicely, Dottore will nod toward an empty seat, silently giving you permission to make yourself comfortable. You take the opportunity to describe the dreams you’ve had while Dottore tinkers away in the background. You talk about a train whose tracks stretch far into the stars, far beyond the snow-obscured sky you glimpse through the scarce, frosted windows scattered about the lab. Sometimes, you dream of a whimsical city filled with cute shops and tiny bunny-like robots waddling through fissures in space. You’re certain he isn’t really paying attention, his hands busy with instruments, and his focus locked on his latest project. Sometimes, you suspect he forgets you’re even in the room despite your rambling. A small part of you wants to stamp your feet and pout like a child. After all, you’re only awake for a few fleeting hours each week, and even then, all he can think about is his experiments. His endless, obsessive tinkering. The man’s only "hobby" is experimentation, and you wonder if he’s even capable of entertaining anything else. At least Omega and Beta would give you some attention. Omega might tell you to be quiet with that dismissive tone of his, while Beta would enthusiastically scribble down every word you say, his excitement unnerving yet oddly gratifying. Still… your gaze drifts toward Zandik’s back as he works, the muscles beneath his coat shifting subtly with each precise movement. You pull your knees up against your chest, wrapping your arms around them as you rest your cheek against your folded arms. For a moment, you simply watch him in silence, the quiet hum of the lab filling the space between you. Eventually, your eyes grow heavy, and you let them slip shut. A faint smile tugs at your lips as you wonder where your dreams will take you this time. You wonder if Zandik would come with you.

On the rare occasion that Dottore chooses to sleep of his own will, most likely due to substances that induce drowsiness and force his body into a state of rest, it’s always a remarkably uneventful night. He doesn’t dream anymore, nor does he wish to. Dreams, like the past, serve no purpose to him now. On certain days, if he concentrates hard enough, he can faintly discern whispers from the other segments he's created. However, they are nothing more than distractions, a cacophony that only aggravates his already meticulous mind. When he wakes, it’s as though he hasn’t truly slept at all. His eyelids parted smoothly, his pupils sharp and alert as if no time had passed. Yet there is an unusual sensation, warmth. Dottore does not run warm, and the lab, built for functionality rather than comfort, certainly doesn’t harbor it either. He turns his head, curiosity fleeting, and finds you huddled against his side. Your arms are wrapped around his waist in a loose embrace, and your face is pressed against his chest, seeking solace in his stillness. The white coat with its black feathered collar, the one you wear more often than he does, is draped across your body, serving as a makeshift blanket. His hands remain clasped on his stomach, and he realizes with mild irritation that he can’t move without risking the possibility of waking you. For a moment, he lingers. The seconds on, and his mind races ahead to the tasks awaiting him. The pursuit of progress waits for no one, not even himself. Every moment spent lying in this bed feels like a year’s worth of lost discovery. 

With calculated precision, he shifts. His movements are methodical, almost robotic, as he carefully bundles you in the coat, ensuring the hood doesn’t cover your face and obstruct your breathing. In a single fluid motion, he lifts you into his arms as he rises from the bed. He spares a brief glance at your sleeping form, red eyes devoid of emotion. Your breathing is steady at 17 breaths per minute—a rhythm he has memorized and measured countless times before. Still as serene as ever. But then, for just the faintest of moments, his gaze softens, almost imperceptibly, before he turns his attention back to the work that never ceases to call for him. What a peaceful way to escape the world, the thought as cold and clinical as his expression.

---

Hi, thank you for reading! I'll reblog this with further writer notes but I wanted to include the research bits in order of appearance. I can't guarantee the full accuracy but I hope I didn't get anything wrong.

Chrysanthemum & Lily

In many Asian cultures, especially in China and Japan, chrysanthemums are symbolic of death and mourning. In China, the flower is closely linked to the Day of the Dead, and in Japan, it is used in funeral rites. While in some contexts chrysanthemums can symbolize longevity or fidelity, their association with death makes them unlucky in certain circumstances, especially when given as gifts or during celebrations.

Lilies, especially white lilies, are often associated with death and mourning, particularly in Christian symbolism, where they are linked to funerals and burials. While lilies also symbolize purity and rebirth in other contexts, their frequent appearance in funeral arrangements.

Head-Down Position

The sleep position reader takes is a parody of the Head-Down position of babies in their third trimester. The head-down position (cephalic presentation) is the most common and ideal position for birth, where the baby’s head is facing downward, towards the birth canal. This allows the baby to navigate the birth process more easily.

Dancing Plague

Also called the Dancing Mania, this refers to a series of events in the 16th century where groups of people, primarily in Europe, suddenly and uncontrollably began dancing for extended periods, sometimes for days or weeks, often to the point of exhaustion, injury, or even death. The most infamous and well-documented outbreak of the Dancing Plague occurred in 1518 in Strasbourg, then part of the Holy Roman Empire (modern-day France).

Algorithm of Semi-Intransient Matrix of Overseer Network

The robot Pantalone sees is the early concept art for ^ but also known as the "Tomb Guard of the Desert King.".

17

The number 17 is considered unlucky in Italy because of its association with the Latin word for 17, which is "XVII". Rearranging these Roman numerals gives the word "VIXI", which means "I have lived" or "I am dead" in Latin. This gives the number an ominous connotation, as it can be seen as a symbol of death or misfortune.

Honkai Star Rail & Zenless Zone Zero

Yes, reader was describing these two games as their dreams lol.

[retroaria]

kiyora jin: boyfriend headcanons

BLUE LOCK M.LIST | reblogs are appreciated! | enjoy !! - aria :3

a.n - I actually am in love with kiyora jin (potential self ship ngl), enjoy this dump of kiyora brain rot. no explicit warnings.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who sees this all as one big challenge. how long can he tease and flirt with you before one of you eventually caves. he loves the exhilaration of the chase, loves the way it keeps him on his toes and makes his heart flutter. he relishes in the butterflies that swarm around his stomach when he’s with you, and can’t help but be amused by his own nervous flirtatious ramblings.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who takes in your personality and interests like a god damn sponge. he analyzes you, but he sees it as a bit of a game, like how excited can he get you while sparking up a conversation about your interests. he also does a quick fact check on you to ensure you can find some sort of interest in the stuff he likes as well. would take you some speakeasy underground dance studio so you can cheer him on lol.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who doesn’t say his feelings outright but definitely isn’t afraid to show you how he feels in other ways. specifically physical touch, quality time, and more-than casual flirting. he’d wrap his arm around you, grad your hand to drag you places, let you take up his free time outside of practice, give you sweet compliments at every chance he gets.

pre-boyfriend!kiyora who eventually finds himself hanging over the edge of insanity every time he thinks about how he can’t call you his. the confession would be swift and almost nonchalant. he’s proud of his feelings for you and doesn’t feel the need to act shy about it once he’s ready. when you say yes he can’t help the smile that creeps across his face which he quickly tries to scrunch up so he isn’t cheesing at you like a dork.

boyfriend!kiyora who has an endless list of hidden gems and secluded spots that he takes you to regularly, places where you can both be alone and enjoy each others presence. he loves any date that involves food, likes going to food festivals and trying all the different food stands. definitely tries to feed you stuff and doesn’t see the problem if you tell him it might look a little weird to other people lol. “Whatever just try it, open up~” he’d scoff at you playfully.

boyfriend!kiyora who loves taking candid pictures of you! he has two separate albums in his phone, one for you looking stupid and one for you looking gorgeous. sometimes his cover is blown by the camera shutter sound from his phone and he has to quickly shove it back in his pocket, looking around like he very obviously was doing something sneaky.

boyfriend!kiyora who dedicates everything to you. if he scores a goal during a game, he looks over to you in the crowed, putting his hand up and pointing at you with a smile as he runs back into position. he makes playlists for you, (attempts to) make you food and desserts.

boyfriend!kiyora who makes silly little stick figure drawings of you two on restaurant napkins when you go out to eat. sometimes he leaves you little notes that he wrote on the back of random pieces of paper he came across, he’s a crafty boy lol.

boyfriend!kiyora who gets jealous rather easily but doesn’t outwardly act possessive about it. he tends to keep those feelings to himself, but if some other guy is really all over you he’d just thrust himself into the situation as aggressively as possible until they get the hint that you’re taken. overall, he trusts you so at the end of the day he knows he has no need to worry!

boyfriend!kiyora who secretly loves being the little spoon. having your arms around him makes him feel so special it warms his heart in a way he can’t describe. he lays his head down on your chest or in your lap whenever you guys are on the couch or in bed together. he loves holding you too but he'll take any chance he can get to be engulfed in your embrace.

divider credz: @cafekitsune

[peaches-n-bleach]

BabyTrapper!Toji x Reader

(TW)ੈ✩‧₊˚ oral(fem receiving) pet names (baby/ma/mamas), penetrative sex, messing with readers medication, back shots, squirting, breeding,

(WC)ੈ✩‧₊˚ 3.5k

(A/N)ੈ✩‧₊˚: Hello everyone! this is my first post/ smut fic. im not very good but I'm up for criticism pleeease let me know how i did! Also, feel free to ask me questions, or if you have a certain character you would like me to write something about, feel free to ask! I hope you guys enjoy it!

. . . ╰──╮18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT OR ENTER!╭──╯ . . .

He felt awful. Honestly, he did. Every first of the month, Toji had that sinking feeling in his gut when he swapped out your birth control with placebos. A heavy sigh fell from his lips as he swapped the fake ones into the pharmacy bag, burying the real ones in the bottom of the trash, which were never to be found. You didn't suspect a thing, just gushing at your sweet boyfriend being so lovely and picking up your birth control pills for you for the past three months. The thought of you round and pregnant, greeting him sweetly every time he came home, or creating the cutest baby from the lewdest act made him stiff in his sweats. Toji leaned against the counter, closing his eyes briefly, only if you knew how hooked Toji was on you. The night Toji decided he would breed you and make you his forever was always in the back of his head, fresh in his mind.

Toji grunted slightly as he kissed your ankle, his cloudly blue eyes peering down at you. Your hair is damp with sweat, causing it to stick to your forehead. Going down to your face, your eyes halfway shut, a fucked out look on your face. Running his hands down your flushed, warmed skin, squeezing your bare breast, chuckling lowly as he pinched your nipples harshly, “ Ngh- Toji, stop teasing!~” You exclaimed, frustratingly rocking your hips slightly and feeling his girthy cock drag deep inside you against your walls. He’s been edging you for hours now. He was building you up till your thighs were shaking and your head was dizzy, only to harshly strip your euphoria away, making you cry out desperately. Clicking his tongue, he ran his hands down your stomach and up your legs that were hooked over his shoulders. “Mmm… 'm sorry baby, just can't help it... You so pretty under me I can't help but savor the view I'm getting~.” Rocking his hips, a tortures slow pace inside you, eyes going down to your core seeing the white creamy ring around his cock where your pussy greedily sucked him in. hooking one arm to hold up your soft legs around him, then the other lowering itself down to rub small circles into your delicate bundle of nerves 

“If you want something, you know you gotta ask properly…” Toji teased, watching you pant and buck your hips into his hand, struggling to even get a word out besides pitiful whines.

“A desperate lil slut~ Ya’already cock drunk ya can't even fucking speak?” Pressing his thumb down harshly on your clit, a sick smirk plastered on his face. “Say it, beg me to let you cum like the fucking slut you are…” You fisted the sheets, knuckles turning white, droplets of sweat forming against your skin as the heat bubbled under your skin. “Puh-leaseeee Toji fuck me -please-need’ta cum…wanna cum on your cock!-fuck…please daddy it hurts!” You exclaimed, tears pricking in the corner of your eyes in desperation. Chest heaving as you panted, a pleading look on your face. Toji’s cock twitched inside you, making the muscular man groan. Instantly hooking his hands under your knees, pushing them against your face. Breasts squished together, pushed up as he bent you in half, looming over you. “Mmm...Don't worry, baby-daddies got ya, gonna treat this pussy real nice…” 

Biting your lip as you felt his cock pull out of you, your juices soaking his cock, making wet noises as he pulled out to where his thick mushroom tip was kissing your entrance. Batting your lashes up at him in a final begging look. Toji couldn't help but scoff. If only you knew how down bad he was for you. His heavy hips thrust down harshly, his heavy cock stretching you out thoroughly. 

“Y-yes! Please!-give it to me, Daddy!” You moaned out lewdly, your head thrown back at the pure force that made your toes curl. That was all he needed, fleshing as he pushed your knees up further, properly bending you in half as he fucked into your sweet pussy at a relentless, rough pace. The hours of tortuous edging make your walls tighten around his cock, your orgasm building up in record time. Relieved that it could finally have its release. Toji remembered the dazed fucked out look on your face as you squirted against his cock. Soaking his abdomen and between your thighs. He remembered fucking you through your orgasm as your tongue rolled out your mouth, begging him to kiss you. The sweet memory of his tongue swirling with yours while his balls tighten and him slamming his cock into your cervix as he emptied his heavy load inside you. When he finally pulled out watching, your whole body trembled, watching cum leak out of you, staining the sheets. That was the day Toji decided he needed you forever. The day he decided he was gonna breed your pussy properly and get you pregnant no matter what. 

He pulled out of his thoughts as he heard the front door open, followed by your cheery voice, “Toji! I'm home. Is curry okay for dinner? I've been craving it!” Kicking the door closed, you held a few grocery bags. Your tall boyfriend appeared coming out of the kitchen making you smile at him. “Hey, baby..” Toji greeted you softly, leaning down to capture your lips into his. It wasn't a soft, sweet kiss to welcome you home. It was dominating and sensual. Biting your lip, making you gasp for his tongue to fight its way into your mouth. Of course, you accepted the kiss happily. He maneuvered the grocery bags out of your hands, making you drop them on the floor haphazardly.

Wrapping your arms around his muscular frame, pulling back for air, panting slightly. “Well, I'm glad you seem excited to see me~” You teased softly, making him smirk against your lips. He moved his face into your neck as he relaxed into the scent of your perfume. You used it all the time. Toji got it for you on your birthday, and you loved it so much that he got you a new bottle before you even had a chance to run out of the previous one. “Just missed ya is all… caught me in a sweet mood,” Giggling at him, running your hands down his back. “Did you have a good day? Oh! Did you pick up my birth control? I took the last one this morning.”

Toji huffed into your skin. You were so sweet. Sometimes, he thought about coming clean about switching your birth control out. Technically, he did; it's just that you didn't need to know about the switch. You never needed to know. You were going to love being a mother. You would look beautiful, cradling his baby in your arms. You were too dense to convince and listen to him when he told you. So, he had to use his underhanded methods.

Nodding softly as he hooked his arms around you giving your ass a soft squeeze, “It's better now that you’re finally home, and yea, I got your stupid meds that are blocking me from giving what my girl deserves…” You pouted, hearing that, looking up at him. “Toji, we talked abo-” Suddenly lifting you, he hooked you over his shoulder with ease. “Yea, yea, you don't think your ready to be a mom and all that bull shit…” He said in a sarcastic tone. You could practically feel him rolling his eyes. Carrying you into the bedroom, “Talking all that crazy shit, like you wouldn't be the best mama in the whole fucking world…You're just gonna have to make it up to me for even thinking bad about yourself.”

Hearing the low, sensual tone in his voice already had your thighs clenching together that didn't go unnoticed by him. “But the grocer-!” Flopping you on the bed, cutting you off again as you bounced against the soft mattress. Leaning over, you capturing your lips against his again as he reached down to unbutton your shorts, sliding them down your legs eagerly. A shiver went down your spine as feeling his stiff cock that was straining agast his sweatpants press up against your clothed core. His hands rubbing your hips and playing with the hem of your panties as he kissed and sucked down your neck. Wherever his lips touched, you could feel the heat of your skin rise. Grinding his hips against yours, his cock pressed between your folds, bumping your clit softly. 

“Ngh- can't believe you would ever say that…mph..like you wouldn’t be the sweetest mommy carrying a mini-me on your hip~” Sucking dark hickies into your skin, you could feel your arousal flow to your core, dampening your panties against your lips. His hands worked under your shirt as he hummped against you. Your juices formed a wet spot on his gray sweats, pulling your shirt and bra off over your head in one quick motion. Biting your lip, feeling the air hit your nipples, causing them to perk up, Toji licked his lips. He wanted to devour you whole; the urge to be lodged deep inside you, always to have his hands on your body, was too great. Leaning down, capturing one of the perky buds into his mouth, nipping it with his teeth, making you whine out in surprise. “Mph-Toji, don’t be m-mean,” You moaned out softly, feeling his tongue swirl around your nip as his hands reached over, giving the other a pinch, making you yelp. The pouty look on your face quickly replaced with one of vigor as he continued to grind against you. 

His cock grinding against your clit perfectly, making your insides ache. Pulling off your breast with a pop, the sheen of his spit making your breast glisten. “shhhh…” He hushed you, moving away slightly to remove his clothes. You couldn't help but bite your lip, admiring his broad shoulders and muscular form. Everything about Toji just made you crave him more. His firm, muscular frame to his cocky grin down to the vast girthy cock between his legs. “Dumb little girls like you don't know what good for them….need men like me to show you what you need, for their own good..”

He leaned down where he was face to face with your core cock pressed against the soft sheets with your legs spread wide and your legs around him. Smirking as he hooked his fingers against the front of your panties, tugging it up harsky. The wet fabric wedged against your folds, making you gasp and squirm the damp fabric against your clit. “Don't worry, baby daddies gonna give you what you need… gonna fuck a baby into you, give ya lil brat to take care of- ok baby?” You nodded softly, his words only making you crave more “Y-yes Toji-pleaseee fuck- need your cum…” 

Toji smirked and rubbed down your thighs. His dumb lil girl. Agreeing to such a thing, thinking it was all talk. Deep inside, Toji knew. Tonight, he would breed you properly, but you wouldn't leave this room until he ensured it took.

Moving your panties to the side, he leaned down, his warm breath against your pussy. “Such a sweet pussy…look at how wet she is for me mama..” Toji rasped as he took two fingers to spread your folds, watching your hole clench around nothing, yearning to be filled and pumped full. “Your pussy wants my cock, hm baby?..” His words cast a spell over you, making your head foggy and eager to please him. “Mm..yea, Daddy, it needs you…want you till fill me up.” The urge to give in to your wishes bubbled up in his chest, but he wanted to savor every moment, so he needed self-restraint. Blowing against your clit softly, “Well, that's just too bad..your going to have to be a good girl and be patient..” He rumbled, rolling his tongue out. He licked a long stripe against your core, making your hips jump. A relieved whine came from your throat, encouraging him to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking softly. While collecting your juices against his fingers, circling your entrance before inserting two fingers deeply inside you. Your walls clenched around him as he curled his long, thick fingers find that sweet spot inside you. Hitting it repeatedly as he dragged your clit across his wide tongue before sucking on it eagerly again.

He thrust his fingers in a scissoring motion into you deeply, making sure to hit your g-spot every time, dragging his fingers against it. Toji rutted his aching cock into the mattress listening to the sweet sound you made. Your legs were already trembling fromToji’s rough pace. “C’mon, mama cum on my face…and ill give you my cock…c’mon be a good girl for me~” He rasped as you bucked your hips into his face fucking yourself against his fingers. “Fuck!- I wanna be g-good! ….so close, please!..” You keened softly. The wet squelching sounds of his moist tongue against your pussy was lewd and dirty sounding. Toji flicked his tongue against your sensitive bud, adding a third finger, making sure to stretch you properly for his cock. 

Melting into his touch, your back arched as you humped his face with need “T-toji!-”   Was all you could manage to cry out before your orgasm was washing over you in waves. “Shiiit..good fucking girl….fucking sweetest pussy..” Your juices coated his mouth and chin as he drank your nectar greedily, his fingers pumping inside you through your orgasm, slowly pulling his finger out as you came down from your high. You panted softly, fluttering your eyes closed, enjoying the afterglow of your orgasm. Feeling the mattress dip slightly made you peek your eyes open only to see Toji pumping his cock slowly, his cock so heavy it couldn't even stand up when stiff. All in its ten ich glory, his thumb ran across the large veins decorating his cock, causing pre to drip onto your inner thigh. Mouth-watering in desire, making you lick your lips, loving the feeling of his girth plunging down your throat. Toji seemed to notice your desire and laughed lowly. “Next time, mama, just let me take of you right now…now get on yer knees for me~” He husked, holding your hips and helping you turn over on your knees, pointing to him. Head resting softly against your silky pillow, knees dipping into the mattress, plump ass in the air. Toji bit back a moan at the sight of your ass, your sweet pussy peeking between your eyes, taunting him, begging him to slip inside and fill it up.

Smirking as he slapped your pussy softly before running his hands, gripping handfuls of your ass. “Finally going to give you what you deserve baby-fuck- just gotta lay here and take my cock like you always do..” Stroking his cock before he aligned it with your soft puckering hole. Pushing the tip inside, then pulling it out, then again teasing you, groaning in frustration, arching your face to the side to glare at him. Impatiently you moved your hips back, backing up against his cock and pushing it deeper inside you. Gripping your pillow, you've taken his cock so many times, and even with the prep, his cock stretched your hole to its limits. The familiar burn makes you quiver. “You to b-big! W-wont fit!~” Rolling his eyes, Toji grabbed your hips, helping you back up against hit “C’mon mama..doing so good for me-shit….you got it baby…done it before,” Toji husked, his cock throbbing impatiently. He looked down, grinning as he was only halfway in. Usually, he would take his time with you, but Toji was rarely a patient man. Gripping your hips before pulling you back against his base. 

Sinking into your warmness, your pussy welcoming him, tightening around him. The sudden force made you lurch forward slightly, though his bag hands against you kept you in place. “Mmph! Fuck!~ ….so deep daddy can feel you in my belly,,,” Leaning over you and kissing down your spine, his hands glided across your body, squeezing your soft breast. Toji couldn't wait when they were full and leaking out with milk. 

“That's right, mama, gotta fuck a baby right into you, making that belly so big and round..” He grunted as he slowly lost all self-control, rocking his hips into you before guiding you back to meet his thrust as he quickened his pace. Toji could swear this was heaven. Sinking into your soft cunt, he could die happy one hand held your hips, and he leaned over you more, raking his finger through your soft lock before he forced your face down against the mattress, starting to fuck into you at an animalistic face. 

“Ahh! S-so good! Daddy, please! Want your cum so bad! Ngh-” You mewled out desperately. He stared down at you and saw how quickly you were becoming a mess. Breathing became short and ragged; he could see the pillow stained with tears as you cried with pleasure. How your pussy clenched around him anytime he tugged your hair against your scalp as you could barely produce a thought as you babbled and moaned brainlessly.

“Such a dumb little girl-shit… going dumb on my cock already mama?” You barely registered what he was saying, only able to weakly nod as his rough thrusts rocked your whole body, the veins on his cock dragging against your silky walls. That answer didn't seem to satisfy Toji, grunting as he roughly yanked your hair back, making you gasp, looking up quickly as your head ached. Though the pain only sent shivers down your spine, the dull pain was delicious. 

“I expect a fucking answer when I’m talkin’ ta ya!” Tears rolled down your cheeks as you panted his cock fucking into your cervix, making you dizzy. “Y-yes Daddy!....... Ngh~ s-so deep-Ngh c-cant think!~....” Your words slurred together, making the older male smirk low, with a deep rumble leaving his chest. Toji laughed at your undone state. His heavy balls slapped against your clit as he thrust into you. You could feel your abdomen tighten, closing your eyes tightly. The sound of hard, rhythmic skin slapping against each other almost drowned out your moan, which was Music to Toji’s ears. 

Toji grunted. He could feel your pussy spasm around him “Close ma? Gonna cum for me?Ngh-” He grunted as you held onto your pillow as if it was a lifeline smacking your ass harshly, watching it jiggle “F-fuuck!~ yes Daddy G-going to cum!...” Toji shook his and smirked and manhandled you, forcing you flat down against your tummy. “J-just hold it, baby, hold that shit in till I say so..” Toji braced his arm against each side of you as you shook your head, his stomach pressing against your back, sinking him in deeper into your sweet cunt.

“I c-cant!~ please! Need to cum puh-leaseeee!~” You exclaimed desperately, leaning down, his lips brushing against your ear softly before nibbling against it. “Ya fucking better if you know what's good for ya-” He whispered softly into your ear, rutting into you brutally, feeling his cock twitch and swell, eager to let his load dump inside you. Finally, give you a baby. Make you his forever. The thought had him desperate for release, hips slapping against you, making the mattress creek and bedpost hit the wall in loud, repeated bumps.

“Cum with me Mama-shit... Cum on my cuck so I can fill this sweet cunt up…” He growled out as his thrust started to become sloppy. All you could manage to do was babble gratefully. Toji could make out small whimpers of thank yous and pleas of desperation. With one last roll of his hips, you were seeing stars. Your orgasm flowed through your core with such power you were squirting, your juices making a wet puddle under the two of you. “Fuuuuck, that's it, baby…Your cunny is all ready to take my cum~ ready to make you a fucking mama” Thrusting harshly, your body bounced off the mattress slightly and back into him. Grunting as he held your body down possessively, “FUCK-take it!” Feeling his warm load spurt into your womb it made you feel full and achy at the sheer amount. Your vision was fading into black as he fucked his cum deep into you. After a few moments, Toji laid on top of you, his cock drained as your pussy took his cum greedily. 

Slowly pulling out, he had a shit-eating grin as he massaged down your back and kissed your shoulders. “Gonna be such a sweet mommy to our lil brat,” Toji grumbled into your ear, the last thing you heard before your vision faded to black. He sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead before spreading your legs, admiring his work. Watching as thick globs of cum leaked out your spent pussy. Shaking his head, he licked his lips.

“Guess we'll have to go another round to make sure it sticks, huh, mama?~”

[dragonpastels]

I've noticed a certain trend of either giving the boys dragons or turning them into dragons, and since I am legally required to participate I decided to combine the boys with another franchise I love dearly. Do y'all like How to Train Your Dragon? Transcript down below! and click for better quality!

Raph Class: Boulder Description: The beast that spared me the other day seems to be protecting a group of smaller beasts. Which unfortunately includes that troublemaker who has been stealing from me. It watches me carefully as the others go about, but as long as I do not get too close it does not seem to be aggressive. The smaller one likes to approach me which I have tried to gently chase away, but the large beast starts to growl if I do.

Top Left: they ate a rock like it was a snack! Top Middle: the others also like to climb on top while Raphael is sleeping. Middle right: The smaller creature likes to hide in the rocks that cover their back. Bottom Middle: Whoah! It spits lava too! The boulders explode after a time leaving a crater of magma behind. Will observe from a distance.

Mikey Class: Stoker Description: The small one likes to come up to me and if I don't pet them they spit sparks at me and become agitated. it is quite the energetic guy and can tuck itself in its shell and become a spinning tornado of sparks and flames. It seems to do this more frequently when they are excited, or angry, or bored, or any strong emotion it seems.

Top Right: Latest work Middle Right: a recreation of them standing in front of their work. They seemed very proud. Bottom Right: it is kind of cute how they sleep. Their snout does not fully go into their shell. Which is quite adorable. Sweet dreams little guy. Bottom Left: The edge of their wing is rock-like. Leo Class: Strike Description: This one has been keeping a distance for some time, but It finally approached me. This one is adorned with beautiful patterns which they seem to love showing off. They seem to enjoy bothering the others and why they put up with it I will probably never know. their favorite one to bother seems to be the thief. Rightfully deserved. I saw this creature create wells of blue energy in the sky which they will fly into and disappear! I need to get closer to observe. I will name this fancy fellow Leonardo.

Top Right: Filthy thief. Middle Right: This one spits electricity! They will purposely hold a charge near me to ruin my hair... I think they find it funny... Bottom Left: I need to know what this is! Donnie Class: Mystery Description: This filthy thief is the one who has been bothering me since I became stranded here. their favorite thing to do appears to be stealing anything that interests it. List of things that interest it -a shovel -an old latch -rope I was going to trap it with -and mom's music box It appears to have made itself some armor from twisted metal and shields. that it carries on its back. Even though it freely approaches me I can not do the same or else it will flee, and when it does it hides behind Raphael. It knows Raphael will protect them. I can't think of any other name more fitting than Donatello.

Top Left: It has a hard underside but is soft on the rest of its body It didn't realize I was under it it let out a spooked squeak Middle Right: It has these strange spots along its nose. Bottom Right: I had to hide in a tree to get this view Bottom Left: Their eyes go white when they work it must be protecting its eyes. it uses its fire breath to attach the metal together.

Frida's log

|Masterpost|

[peggyao3]

Relic - Pt. 4 "O God!"

PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Unnamed Ambiguous FMC

SUMMARY: ✧༺༻ Dreams are messages from the deep ༺༻✧ A woman from the unknown comes to Feyd in his dreams and his nights become his days as he flees to the dreamscape to escape the nightmares that haunt his waking hours.

TAGS: 18+, smut, she/her AFAB FMC, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex, Porn with Plot, Feyd-Rautha's black cum, Feyd-Rautha's big cock, Praise Kink, Body Worship, angst/hurt and comfort, drama, fluff, Frank Herbert would frown, some politics, implied/referenced (child) abuse ❗, Trauma, mentions of suicidal thoughts ❗, Healing, Strangers to Lovers, falling in love, Vulnerable!Feyd, Emotional!Feyd, Possessive!Feyd, Feyd is a sweet baby who did nothing wrong and I WILL pamper him, nurture not nature, Stockholm Syndrome but in a consensual way, lucid dreaming, implied/referenced cannibalism ❗, implied/referenced murder

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

A/N: Fluff meets oh God help us 😩

Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️| Relic Masterlist

Divider by @saradika-graphics

← Previous Chapter, Next Chapter →

Night 100

"Do you know that tonight marks our hundredth night together?" Feyd purrs, blue eyes glittering like little seas, shoulders rolling as he sways her in his lap.

"Is that why I get to be on top tonight?" Mirth laces her tone, rocking herself up and down with the aid of his hands. This barely counts as being on top when he does all the heavy lifting for her.

"You get to be wherever you want, my sweet."

She lets out a sultry moan, holding herself at the lowest point of Feyd's lap, relishing how deep he reaches, how completely he fills her when she has fully sank down on him, feeling the smoothness of his thighs against her behind. Feyd moans with her, suckling on her neck which is so beautifully bared to him.

"Really, you've been keeping count?" She mewls when Feyd begins to rock her anew, only little thrusts that make her walls flutter with growing anticipation.

"I have. I've made a tally chart."

That is so endearing to her that she laughs brightly and asks: "With chalk on the walls of your prison cell? I'm so sorry for holding your dreams hostage." She doesn't know how right she is, though it’s not the dream that is the prison. On second thought, what would happen if left through that door over there? They've never tried, because the things to be discovered within each other are of much greater interest.

She adds: "I haven't made a tally chart, but I did write in my diary after our first night. I was so certain I'd never have a dream like that again, I never wanted to forget it."

"What did you write?" Feyd inquires with sparkling eyes, now suckling on her collarbones and then her breasts, rendering her breath shaky and thick with lust when she replies.

"I wrote that I encountered the most wondrous man in my dreams last night and that I could touch him and it felt so real. I wrote that you have pretty eyes and a silly name. I may have also written that I've never come so hard in my life."

That lights a fire in Feyd's eyes and chest and he clutches her body to his tightly, rutting up into her cunt with his feet propped up on the bed. She seeks purchase on his shoulders, clinging to him. Feyd seems intent on exceeding their first night, and with the way her core coils, she thinks he just might.

"And what do you write nowadays?" He inquires with husky voice.

"That's a, haahhh, secret. It's a diary for a reason."

That doesn't quite please Feyd, but he is very pleased by her tone of voice on the edge of despair, spine arching, teeth gritted. His balls feel taut and ready to burst and he keeps his composure only for her. "Well, I want you to write about this night when you wake up, can you do that for me?"

"Yes! Yeees, haaaahhh~ Feyd!" She falls into the mindless embrace of climax, mewling his name, riding him with stuttering hips. It is less the feeling of her fluttering walls that makes him spill himself with a guttural sound, more the sight of his woman so disheveled, features painted in bliss.

When they've both calmed down from their highs, she sinks limply into Feyd's embrace, hearts thundering against each other. Feyd peppers her shoulder with kisses and she does the same to his. She likes his shoulders. After a minute, when her breath is a little calmer, she kisses his neck and jaws.

"That tickles," Feyd complains, scrunching his nose.

"You have a birthmark right here, did you know that?"

"You think I don't know my own body?" In fact, Feyd wasn't fully aware of the birthmark there, just at the underside of his jaw. He avoids looking at himself all too much and all too close, especially outside of the dream.

"It's very pretty. You don't have many birthmarks at all. So smooth." She drags her nose across his neck, blowing softly on him and Feyd flinches, cursing her lightly. That fucking tickles! Eventually, she finds something of interest, touching a spot at his neck with tender fingertips.

"What have you got there, another birthmark?" His voice comes as a light, raspy chuckle.

"No… A scar," she tentatively admits, tracing the blemished skin at the side of his neck. A small sickle moon whose tip brushes against his collar bone. Immediately, she regrets pointing it out, because only one thing comes to mind.

"A scar?" A scar he would remember. Feyd's hand joins hers on his neck, feeling the slightly marred flesh, a scar that's barely an inch long. "I don't have that when I'm awake," he pensively admits. The Baron never hurts him so far up.

Night 168

If only she had the resources and the time, she would have spent every waking hour trying to solve the enigma of her and the man named Feyd, would have done more than writing fondly in her diary, would have wired her body and brain up in a sleep lab and studied how their connection works, but she might never get the chance. No, she will never get the chance. How could that not devastate her?

She hasn't told anyone in her waking life about him. He is her wondrous companion at night, her best friend from a dream with whom she can run away, into whose embrace she can crawl to hide from everything and everyone, with whom she doesn't need to think.

Feyd hasn't failed to notice how restless she has been for the past week, her shoulders always tight, her gaze faraway and a look of guilt and pain plastered into her eyes so deep, not even his touch could melt her anymore.

Presently, his hands curl around the nape of her neck, entangling his fingers in her hair, nose sliding against hers as he slots his lips against hers in a desperate attempt to stifle his own bubbling inquiry. But she cups his cheeks and merely presses their foreheads together, cradling him like he's the most precious thing she's ever held.

Good manners might dictate that he doesn't pressure her, like she had never pressured him to bare his heart to her, but by all the Gods and all the galaxies, he cannot take it any longer and he will pressure her, because the growing unease and the lump in his throat are unbearable.

Surprisingly, she breaks under just a whiff of pressure, like a dam breaking from the removal of a single log. Feys cups her cheeks like she cups his, exhaling a heavy breath against her mouth, blue eyes open and inquisitive. She knows that they're open, so she opens hers and immediately feels stinging wetness spill over her waterline. 

"Tell me?" Half a question, half a demand. Feyd's thumbs rub over the tears that dampen the soft skin beneath her eyes.

"It's gotten s-so so much worse," she removes one hand from his cheek, twists her head to cry into her palm, though Feyd's thumbs remain on her face.

"The… war?"

"Of course, the war! I'm scared that we won't make it out alive, Feyd." She gnaws her lip, closing her eyes. She's lying. She's lying and Feyd must never know her horrible lie.

"Are you still safe?"

"Relatively, yes." She shakes her head, swallowing. Feyd calms his own heart and breathing. That is the most important thing, but he doesn't feel all too well about that 'relatively'.

"Is that really true? You've been so tense. No, don't cry. Of course I noticed." Feyd releases her face, embraces her instead so she may sob into his shoulder.

"Yes, it is. I really am relatively safe. I mean… A few days ago, there was an airstrike a few kilometers to the north and a breach in, uh, in our bunker. But we found and fixed it quickly enough. I was only feeling sick for a day or two."

To describe the place as a mere bunker is such an offense, she feels her own heart shrivel. She needs to tell him, but she can't. Such a fucking coward, pathetic!

Meanwhile, Feyd soaks up every word. He so rarely gets to hear details about her waking life, details that he craves more and more but simultaneously loathes. A heavy frown forms on his forehead, mulling over her words until he only tastes bitter rot and fear on his tongue. If this is relatively safe, how could he accept that?

"I don't know if I can dream while I- while I-"

"While what?!" Feyd snaps when she stops before the crucial part. "Stop speaking in riddles, woman, tell me what's wrong!"

She cannot tell him, or he will despise her for her privilege. It is unfair. There is a reason why people like her are envied, despised and pitied. They are privileged cowards.

"I wish we were together," she swerves but confesses truthfully. But the rules are strict, so it can't be.

Feyd senses his woman slipping out of his fingers metaphorically, no matter how tightly he squeezes her dream-bound body.

"And if I came to save you?" Madly, his heart beats against his ribs and his palms grow clammy with anxiety. She laugh-sobs, like she thinks that's an endearing proposition. Obviously, she doesn't know the power Feyd holds in the same hands that are holding her right now.

"The air space is tight and the land routes are sealed. We, oh God, we… went to orbit yesterday. Even if you had a suitable craft, you would be blown to bits on the way."

Feyd's frown thickens and blue eyes flicker questioningly over his woman's back and shoulder, as her face remains hidden in his neck, clinging onto him with raw fear of judgment.

She adds: "But I c-can't deny, I wish I could have seen you with my own eyes and touched you with my own hands. Even if it's only once." She cries harder and wetness slips down Feyd's shoulder. He cannot bear to see her suffer for a second longer.

He is ready for the singularity to break out of the black hole. To know her personally, intimately and emotionally in the flesh, outside of their dreamland cocoon. He will find her. He will see her in real life and hold her in his real arms. She will love him, it won't matter to her who he is, not to his sweet woman who has learned so much about him, more than any human alive.

"Where are you from?" Softly and calmly he asks her and the lump in his throat dissolves at once. Liberation. He's finally made his decision and never felt better.

Sobbing softly, she names him a place followed by a second place he's never heard of. Maybe a country, maybe a city.

Feyd shakes his head. "No… My sweet, from which world are you? I will get you out of there. Believe me, I can." 

Her sniffling abates and she raises her head, tear-streaked face knitted with confusion. "What do you mean, which world?" 

"Are you toying with me?!" Feyd is not in the mood for jest, because every minute counts. As soon as he awakes, he will order her rescue, and if he has to pay House Harkonnen's entire fortune to the Guild to provide a heighliner to the most distant world. "What's the name of your planet, my darling, I'll come and get you, just tell me the name!"

"Earth?" The corners of her mouth quiver. "I think you're toying with me." And she can't blame him. Everything is already horrible enough.

"From which earth?" Feyd is growing annoyed with her. Does his woman not want to be found by him? What does she fear?! Has he not proven over and over how he craves her, how he loves her? Would she rather be reaped away by some planetal war than be with him?

"I don't understand you," she meekly admits with a tightness in her chest. "From which world are you?" She laughs a little, but her features are warped into horror, like something is knocking at her own house of cards.

"From Giedi Prime, of course! I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, na-Baron of Giedi Prime!" Feyd slams his fist against the mattress. There, he's finally said it. He expects her to pull away from him with fear now and look at him the way every foreigner looks at him, envious and disdainful.

"I don't know what that means," she admits, voice warbled. Perhaps his darling is confused out of her mind, perhaps she didn't hear him correctly. So, Feyd cups her face firmly.

"That means I'll come and get you. Did you hear me? I am Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen." All those months he had feared her reaction if she ever found out his full name. Now he wants nothing more than what he had so feared, that spark of recognition, disdain or not.

"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen," she whispers tearfully, trying to giggle like she did when she first heard his forename. "I like that silly name." Tenderly, she traces the shape of his jaw, smiling through the tears.

"You like…? No, listen to me closely. You said you're in orbit. Is there a heighliner near?" She squints her eyes, a flicker of a frown, and fresh tears well. She isn't listening to him!

"I-, I changed my mind, I'm not going. I'll go back down and find you. Tell me where you live!"

"No, no, no you won't go back down, you'll stay where you're safe and I'll come and get you." Feyd is repeating himself, frantic by now, clutching her face with his thumbs rubbing over her cheeks with increasing pace. "Just tell me where you are, please."

"Stop, stop!" She pleads. Feyd sounds out of his mind, confused. Bless his heart, but he can't come and get her. "Tell me, are you safe?" Aside from the obvious, his uncle… 

"Yes, I am-" Feyd doesn't get to finish his sentence because she sobs with relief, throwing her arms around his neck.

"I hope I can dream, I pray." How nice that would be. How comforting. She wants to believe it with her whole heart. "Will you be with me?" 

"I will always be with you."

How wrong he is.

"Can you hold me please? I am so sorry."

Feyd holds her, holds her so tight that he almost convinces himself her flesh, skin and bones are real, her beating heart is real, her soft voice is real. "Tell me where you are," he cries into her hair. "Tell me where you are, tell me where you are, tell me where you are."

Consciousness' meandering tendrils weave into the dream, dissolving it slowly like ink in water, gently, gently… Neither of them realizes as the other fades into mist among the stars.

After this night, Feyd-Rautha never dreams of his beloved again.

I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand – How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep -- while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream? - A dream within a Dream by Edgar Allen Poe, 1850

Tag list: @nostalgichoya, @sebastianswallows, @forgedfromthestars

Do let me know if u want me to tag u 👉👈

A/N: All I can say is I'M SORRY 😩🤭 And - P.S. - There are at least 9 more chapters left to go, so be not afraid 🫂

[darkpetal16]

Quick question for all the boys: what nickname would they give to their partner?

ALL?? OK BABE I GOT YOU. but like I can't do an "all" post again there's just too many now lol.

Underfell!Sans (Red): Babe (all), sweetheart (for the shy or introverted babes), doll/dollface (for the feisty babes)

Underfell!Papyrus (Edge): Love (but very sparingly, he’s not fond of nicknames):

Underfell!Wingding (Fell): My dear / My love / My other half / My heart (all emphasis on the my)

Underfell!Asriel (Prince): doesn’t use nicknames unless explicitly asked to. Might refer to you as partner / mate / spouse however.

Underfell!Grillby (Fellby): Sweet girl/boy/pup & Little firecracker.

Underswap!Sans (Blue): Not fond of nicknames but will occasionally call you his puzzle piece. If you ask him to call you something specific, he will.

Underswap!Papyrus (Stretch): Honey, honey bear, honey pie, spicy honey, and if he wants to be ornery / annoy others in public. . .honey bunny wunny.

Underswap!Wingding (Thread): My dear, my little patchwork, darling, marshmallow / cinnamon spice / pumpkin pie.

Underswap!Asriel (Buttercup): Dummy (affectionately). He gets embarrassed by nicknames.

Mafiafell!Sans (Hit): for feminine presenting partner: doll face, sweetheart, lil lady, cookie. For masculine presenting partner: pal, buzz, lil gent, dish. For neutral, mixture of both depending on his mood.

Mafiafell!Papyrus (Boss): He doesn’t do nicknames, per se, but instead waxes poetry for you about you in private. He’d also prefer it if you didn’t give him nicknames in public. Reputation is very important to him and his family and he expects you respect that.

Mafiafell!Wingding (Don): Muse, my dear, darling, puppet, marionette, toy

Mafiafell!Asriel (Heir): Meadow, my haven, my sunshine (if early riser) / my nightfall (if late sleeper)

Slumbertale!Sans (Slumber): Buddy, chum, pal, bucko, friend, fella who naps with me, pillow, blanket, kitten (if you nap often) / puppy (if you do not take naps often), the one who makes plans, my worser half (jokingly), my alarm clock, etc. He’ll come up with obscure and odd nicknames depending on your routine together.

Slumbertale!Papyrus (Mayor): MY RIGHT HAND! There is no bigger compliment because this fella HATES to rely on anyone so if you’re his right hand then you’re someone as invaluable to him as his own right hand.

Slumbertale!Wingding (Abyss): Dewdrop.

Slumbertale!Asriel (Unending): My dream come true, dreamer, buttercup, butterscotch, butter biscuit

Slumbertale!Grillby (Sleeby): His nickname will be dependent on your favorite drink. For example if you like pina coladas he’d call you his sweet coconut, and if you like soda he’d call you his pop-heart.

Horrortale!Sans (Axe): No nicknames unless you specifically tell him to. He just doesn’t think about it.

Horrortale!Papyrus (Sugar): My little meatball, Strawberry jam, rhubarb pie, my berry, love, heart, SOUL

Horrortale!Wingding (Ghost): my heart / our hope

Horrortale!Asriel (Yarrow): butterscotch, cinnamon bun, and sun drop

Horrortale!Grillby (Calcifer): no nicknames!

Reapertale!Sans (Reaper): Nothing set in stone. He'll come up with one time nicknames for puns. Like if you were burned alive & died to met him, he'd call you hot stuff. If you drowned he'd call you a mermaid with lungs. Things along those lines.

Sciencetale!Sans (Doc): he tried nicknames. It came out awkward because he kept stuttering and he was deeply embarrassed so he never did it again.

Sciencetale!Wingding (Professor): Treasure

Siren!Sans (Siren): That’s a human concept, so he wouldn’t choose any. You can tell him what you want him to call you and he’ll accommodate.

Siren!Wingding (Apex): Same as above.

Dustttale!Sans (Dust): Idiot, fool, daydreamer, dreamer, (and very rarely when he thinks you aren’t listening) my miracle

MASTERLIST (HCS & REQUESTED SCENARIOS)

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - Positions

(Warning - NSFW!)

{Thank you BugBiteWrites on AO3 for the inspiration!}

The Papas love to fuck! But Lucifer knows they have their own style… (my HCs of the Papas’ favorite sex positions and other sex preference HCs)

Primo

Loves cowgirl - he’s old and kinda frail (but still surprisingly strong somehow), so this is the most comfy for him

Has a strong grip on your hips as he helps you grind on his lap

Spooning - wants to lay on his side and slowly fuck you before bedtime

Very into cockwarming. Wants you to sit in his lap and will calmly scold you if you disobey and try to fuck him (“Now caro/cara we talked about this, mm?”)

Content not to orgasm himself, and takes pleasure in teasing you or getting you off

Takes his time with foreplay, knowing your orgasm will be much more powerful that way

Definitely a pleasure dom

Secondo

Fucks you from behind so he can push your head into the mattress and use your body as an anchor

Also into cockwarming (as a punishment) and will leave you high and dry in the room if you disobey him by trying to fuck him

Loves throatfucking you

Loves cowgirl but will pummel you from below

Mostly a dom. Once in a blue moon he likes to be commanded

Total brat tamer, but don’t test him because he’s not afraid to forgo his own pleasure to teach you a lesson

Loves edging you with a vibrator or his hand, laying on the bed with your back against his chest while he reaches around to your front

Most of the foreplay happens in his lap, with his hands exploring all over you

Will overstimulate you because he loves watching you squirm and be powerless

Takes aftercare very seriously if he fucked you rough, or if you just look like you need it

Terzo

Doggystyle - wants to see your ass in the air so he can spank it and watch it jiggle

Also wants to get pegged or topped in doggystyle

Any position where he can go deeper and feel bigger

Spooning for when he’s lazy so he can reach around to your front and stimulate you further

Avoids face-to-face positions in his casual encounters because he has a fear of intimacy and that feels way too personal

When he’s in love, however, he wants to face you so he can watch your body react to him. He’ll watch your face contort in passion, getting off on just how good he can make you feel and he’ll study your body’s reactions so he knows just what to do to get you off

Likes to switch positions a lot to keep things spicy

Making sure you cum together is a goal of his

Not a brat tamer because he IS a brat

Very into trying new and complicated sex positions; has several copies of the Kama Sutra

Copia

Laying on your sides facing each other so he can look into your eyes and whisper sweet nothings to you

LOVES missionary; he doesn’t care if people think it’s overrated

He just wants to look you in the eyes when you cum

Definitely cries after sex

Whiny and needy; wants to be held and comforted and likes having his hair stroked while laying against your chest

Prefers to only have sex with someone he cares about but he’s had a couple of flings before

Says “I love you” when he cums

Wants you to eat his ass from behind so he can feel vulnerable and exposed, knowing you’ll take good care of him

Always wants snacks after fucking and chugs a whole glass of water or a Juicy Juice box immediately after. In fact, he usually leaves water on his nightstand for this (he chugs water after masturbating too)

Nihil

Car sex - let’s face it, he’s had a lot of practice back in the day

Whatever it is, he wants it to be rough and quick

Usually fucks against something - wall, desk, couch, …toilet (he’s definitely fucked while on the toilet - don’t lie, you’ve seen the photo, you were thinking it too)

Likes reverse cowgirl so he can see your ass jiggle

Likes motorboating

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 20

Damn guys, wow! Twenty chapters in. Shit. Wow. We've only got five chapters to go.

Hey, remember that breakdown that Steve feared was coming? Yeah it's in this chapter. Just not the person anyone thought it would be. Also Steve learns to lean on the people who love him.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

~

Steve was nervous. He was rarely nervous on stage, but this was special. Eddie had written a duet version of one Corroded Coffin’s songs and Abbadon was going to feature. So when The Fallen left and Corroded Coffin came on, the first song would be the new duet.

Apparently Gareth had been badgering Eddie to include it in the set list since before the whole rehab stint. But that was around the time Steve and he got together and felt it was too close to the mark to sing it on stage like that.

But somehow the three other members had convinced him and Eddie in turn had managed to convince The Fallen, both bands managers, and their tech guys to let them do it in Denver.

The Fallen finished their encore and they huddled together as Corroded Coffin’s equipment was set up.

Then it was time, with all the lights off Abbadon went to stand in the middle of the stage, directly in front Gareth’s stage where his kit was. The spotlights came on, first highlighting Gareth, then Brian, Jeff, and then Eddie.

Abbadon stood in the darkness, microphone in hand, head hung between his shoulders.

This was the moment. The moment Steve had spent his whole adult life dreaming about. On stage with Corroded Coffin to sing with Eddie. His only regret that it was as Abbadon and not himself. But damn, he’d be fool to turn down the opportunity and he knew it.

Eddie started in on guitar; the sweet, slow build up of one of their greatest hits. “Run, Lover Boy, Run.”

But when the first verse started it wasn’t the gravelly growl of Eddie Munson, but the haunting tenor of Abbadon.

“When I see you there,

Standing with your friends,

I have to stop and stare,

Because, baby I know how this ends...”

Finally Abbadon was lit by a pale blue light, making the white of his costume seem ghost like and eerie. He raised his head and the lace mask made him even more beautiful. He walked toward the front of the stage slowly as he joined Eddie front and center.

To say the crowd went wild would have been an understatement. The Fallen fans were freaking out and screaming and crying. The Corroded Coffin fans roared their approval as Abbadon’s voice lent the song a melancholy vibe.

Eddie sang the second verse and then they joined in together for the chorus. Abbadon leaned in close, their spotlights blending together.

“Run, Lover Boy, Run,

Don’t you know,

You were only a little bit of fun

Run, Lover Boy, Run

You were looking for love,

Can’t you see we’re done?”

Abbadon knew he should have moved back for the next verse, but somehow he found himself draped over Eddie. Even though the song was about being used by a guy he thought he could trust but was only looking for a hookup and not something more serious. He just couldn't move away.

Eddie had a white knuckle grip on his guitar, playing his hardest and singing about heartbreak. Abbadon’s microphone was at his side as he shared Eddie’s. He had even turned it off to avoid feedback.

They were so close that any closer they would have been making out over the microphone. But the thing that really tipped things over the edge was when the final verse came, Abbadon sunk to his knees and belted it out. So from a certain perspective it looked as though he was grinding against Eddie leg.

The crowd went absolutely feral. There was screaming, crying, and apparently in two extreme cases, fainting.

He wasn’t.

Steve wanted to make that clear. He wasn’t grinding against Eddie’s leg. To both their management and the media. Because, yeah he saw the video the fans uploaded and it was very suspect, but his other fans had his back. They posted the view from the other side of the stadium where he was just a few feet away from the lead singer, on his knees, his free hand clenched in a fist.

But oh boy did fuel rumors about Abbadon and Eddie in ways that made Steve’s skin crawl. It was a good thing they had two days before they got to Vegas for Steve to hide in their trailer.

“Steve!” Robin as Robin called out, banging on the door. “Come on, Steve, you can’t hide in there forever!”

Eddie had tried. Chrissy had tried. Hell, even Vickie gave it a go. But Steve refused to budge. Shane let out a sigh after Simon and Spence were both sent away as well.

“Let me try,” he said softly.

They all cleared out to let Shane have a go. He sat down on the steps to the trailer and leaned his head against the door.

“Hey, Steve,” he muttered. “You don’t have to come out, but I’m gonna start talking and maybe you’ll decide to do that on your own.”

He was met with silence. Which was already a step up from the shouts to go away. So he started talking.

“I worry about us as friends, all of us,” he said, strained. “Simon keeps turning down women who are generally into him because he thinks they’re only into him because of what we do. But there have been some real good ones. One that wanted to get to know him, but he just shuts them down. I worry about his attachment to you. I know he’s straight. I’ve hit on him before... before you I guess. Back when we were just some idiots in a cafe who didn’t know what life was.”

He let out a watery chuckle. “But I’ve also seen girls flirt with him as a roadie and he still thinks it’s because of what he does rather than wanting him for he who is. He’s a good guy. He’s one of the best. But he doesn’t seem to want to be better.”

Shane looked up at the clear blue sky and let out a shuddering breath. He hung his head.

“Spence doesn’t want to go out anymore,” he continued, his voice quaking with the feeling of loss. “All he wants to do is spend all his time talking to Nadia. The only time he goes out is as someone else and that can’t be healthy either.”

He ran his fingers through his tight red curls, gripping them at the base and pulling. His hands shook with the effort and the emotions.

“I just came out as gay and I’m frightened by it all,” Shane said. “My parents are supportive. Because of course they are. But I can tell the difference in people from the way they used to look at me and how they look at me now. I was going to teach middle school, Steve. I was going to teach world history to teenagers. But this changed everything.”

There was a soft thud behind him and he figured it was Steve sitting on the floor in front of the door.

“But of all us,” he whispered through his tears, “I worry about you the most. You think you have to be strong for everyone else. You came out with me and I’m getting more support than you are. Yeah, you have a good support system. I wouldn’t have allowed you to come out otherwise, twin. But this moment that blew up in your face, shouldn’t have.”

He lifted his head up and let the tears continue to stream down his face. “It should have been a moment of pure joy and it turned into an embarrassment. You’ll forever look back at the first time you sang with shame. And you shouldn’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were incandescent. You lit up that stage and it was beautiful.”

The door to the trailer opened a crack and instantly Shane was on his feet. He opened the door all the way and slipped inside, closing it tightly behind him. Sitting in the dark on the floor not far from the door was a very disheveled Steve. It looked like he hadn’t slept in awhile. They all traveled together, but Steve had taken to locking people out until it was time to get on the road again.

“Hey, twin,” Shane muttered as he moved to sit next to him on the floor.

Steve snorted. They looked nothing alike but by some twist of fate they had been born on the same day, year and all. Steve was older by like seven hours. So Shane had taken to calling him twin when no one else was around.

“Hey,” he whispered. “I hate making people worry about me.”

Shane bumped their shoulders together. “Well that’s too damn bad, Steve. Because you don’t get to make that choice for other people.”

Steve out a shuddering breath. “It’s not even the fallout of people thinking I was grinding against him that bothers me the most.”

“Yeah?” Shane asked with a huff. “What is?”

“That I wanted to.” Steve buried his head in his hands. “I wanted to touch him, kiss him, hell even fuck him on that stage. But I knew that if I wavered for even a fucking second the backlash would be, oh so much worse.”

Shane looked at him for a moment. “No it wouldn’t.” Steve’s head whipped around to face him. “Steve...you hang off me and Simon all the time. You flirt with the audience. All the photo shoots of you are in sexy poses. Shit, man. You wouldn’t be doing anything different than a half a dozen heterosexual bands have done on stage.”

Steve thought about it for a moment. And Shane was right. A famous rockstar humped a massive blown up dick on stage and no one thought twice about that. At least none that weren’t going to be pearl clutching about it in the first place.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Fuck.”

“I think you should play up into more if I’m honest,” Shane huffed. “You’re out as bisexual. Play into the stereotype of being a slut. The people who know you, know you’re with Eddie and monogamous, but those people,” he pointed out of the trailer, “the ones that don’t matter? Soak up all that attention and feed on it.”

Steve’s eyes lit up and a slow smile spread out over his face. Pictures started forming in his head. He thought about how his persona was already the opposite of him in real life. He thought about the thrill he got when he saw the photos of him online from the angle that made it look risque. He thought about how he wanted to play up into flirting with Eddie on stage.

“Can you get the rest of the band in here with Robin and Eddie and Vickie if you can get her too?”

Shane’s answering grin was all he needed to know. Shane got to his feet and within minutes everyone was huddled together in the trailer and Steve explained his idea.

Vickie smiled wickedly. “I think it’s a brilliant idea and if Eddie’s on board with it I’d be happy to lean into that.”

Eddie sat back and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I think what might make it easier so people don’t focus on me is if I get the rest of the Corroded Coffin boys in on it too. That way if Steve as Abbadon is seen flirting with the whole band it’ll come off as being a flirt and not that there’s something specific between Abbadon and I.”

“I like that,” Simon agreed. “Abbadon is already all over Astraeus and Asmodeus so flirting with Jeff and Brian as well as Eddie that would play up into the slut allegations.”

Steve laughed and then shared a knowing smile with Robin. Yep. Simon might be shy about most things but when it came to Steve... that was a whole other kettle of fish.

“We’ll do another duet tonight,” Eddie said, nodding. “Have Abbadon start Gareth’s lap or something.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better,” Spence said, “but don’t lock us out next time. You’re there for us. It’s time you let us be there for you. Okay?”

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. “Yeah, okay.”

They all came up and gave Steve huge hugs before they piled out of the trailer again, leaving behind Shane and Eddie.

“Thanks for getting him to come out of his shell,” Eddie said to Shane. “I didn’t know what to say because it’s always been apart of my contract that I was out and loud.” He stood up and gave Steve a sweet kiss on the mouth before he, too, went back outside.

“You going to be okay, Steve?” Shane asked, moving to sit next to him on the sofa. Well futon technically, but semantics.

Steve looked up at his friend. “I worry about you, too.” Shane let out a an aborted laugh. “I know you’re frightened of being out, but I know you’ve been coming back from partying all hours of the night and sometimes day. Spence and Simon sleep like fucking logs and snore just like sawing them. But I hear you.”

Shane buried his head in his hands for a moment before running his fingers down his face. “I’ll tell you what, twin. I’ll cut back on the partying, if accept our help. And not just some of the time. Come to us for help and I’ll keep the partying to a minimum.”

Steve barked out a laugh. “Just take Spence out with you and we’ll call it a deal.”

He reached out his hand and shook it. “Deal.”

~

Tag List: CLOSED

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[voxisdaddy]

Sinful Alphabet

Saint Peter NSFW Alphabet

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Saint Peter x Reader

C/TW: NSFW (duh), Adam mentioned, Implied!Switch Peter, He’s mostly subbing, Dom reader, reader mostly written as fem in mind

MDNI

A/N: This is all written with the mindset that Peter is very new to sexual intimacy. I feel like as time went on, the answers would differ. Plus also I really like the idea of a virgin saint Peter so like-💀

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s usually in subspace for awhile after sex, so he probably wouldn’t do anything for the first several minutes. But he would love to hold your hand, stay close to you, and use his wings to wrap you both up snuggly together. Maybe ask if you’re hungry and want him to order anything for you.

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also you)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ His favourite part of his body would probably have to be his hands. He loves running them over your body, through your hair, holding and groping you, fingering you, ect,. His hands are soft, delicate and always cold, loves how your body reacts to his touches.

His favourite body part on you is would have to be your mouth/lips. From how they feel against his lips, skin, wrapped around his cock, ect,. Plus the sweet pleasurable noises you make when you guys do it, with his name falling from your lips, gets him all needy.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ If you have a sweet tooth, you’d love the taste of his cum. He loves cumming down your throat the most. Watching you with watery blue eyes as you drink his cum like it’s your favourite milk is enough to get him hard again.

D = Dirty Secret (What’s their dirty secret)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ During a particularly long shift at the golden/pearly gates of Heaven, his mind wondered off to fantasizing about you sitting underneath the podium, milking his cock with your mouth as he works. He got so hard but was so embarrassed and ashamed of it, he couldn’t face you, Sera, and anyone else for the next several days. May or may not have thought about that fantasy the next time you gave him head though.

E = Experience (How experienced are they?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ No experience. Not even in masturbation. You’re his first time ever. He’s been around for centuries and never did anything until you and him became a thing.

F = Favourite Position

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Saw @simphornies mention this and I 100% agree; Missionary and Cowgirl. He likes facing you and holding your hips, thighs, tits/chest, waist, ect,. His favourite is holding your hands though—he likes the intimacy and caring nature of it.

G = Goofy (Are they serious or goofy during sex?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Pretty serious. Maybe kind of goofy but in a dorky way? He wouldn’t crack a joke but he would maybe react kind of adorably and dork like since he’s so flustered. You pin him against a wall? “Ah—well—Uh..ha… hello there..” God he’s such a dork.

H = Hair (How well groomed down there are they?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Pretty well groomed. No bush, gets trimmed every now and then.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? Romantically speaking)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He loves being intimate. He definitely prefers making love over sex, any day! He loves whispering praises to you, whether or not he’s topping or bottoming, he will tell you he loves you and how perfect he thinks you are. A big fan of stolen kisses while you do it.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He feels kinda guilty doing it so he doesn’t do it often. Plus he prefers your hand, mouth, and body anyways so like—

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Praise kink (both giving and receiving). He has to let you know how perfect you are, how good you make him feel, and thank you for letting him touch and see your bare skin. When he receives praise though, he gets needy and kind of teary eyed, definitely sends him up to subspace quickly. Also gets really flustered and embarrassed. Oh you say he looks so pretty when he’s edged into oblivion? He’s definitely tearing up and whimpering.

He loves cock warming. He also hates it because come on! You’re being so unfair, sitting on his aching cock and not moving. Oh but he loves how closely intimate it is, how he gets to wrap his arms around you, holding you close, your hands entangling themselves into his hair, ect,. And when you do move? Oh my god he’s so relieved, he’s thanking you and moaning your name like it’s the only thing he knows how to say.

Overstimulation. He’s weak and is usually already a trembling mess just from a handjob, so he cums quickly. When you keep going though, sucking him dry, riding him, and milking him for several more rounds though? You could ask if he wants you to stop but he’s already babbling on incoherently about how he doesn’t want you to stop. Plus he likes how trembly he is when you’re done, cuz that usually means you take care of him and he has every excuse to cling to you as much as possible.

L = Location (Favourite place to do it)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Privacy of the bedroom. Your bedroom, his bedroom, shared room, hotel room, whatever. He just wants a big bed to lay on or to lay you on while you go at it like rabbits—with full privacy of course.

M = Motivation (What turns them on?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Honestly he’s kind of easy to turn on—especially when it comes to you. Whisper a few dirty words to him, pin him against a wall, tease him, bend over in front of him, ect,. It’s easier to just say ‘you’, honestly. You could go out for milkshakes and he’d completely innocently watch you lick the white substance from your lips and his mind goes places. Granted he feels dirty and embarrassed by it so please don’t tease him about it :c

N = No (What will they not do?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Anything where either of you get hurt-even just a lil bit—is off the table. Want him to spank you? No, no, sweetheart! Why would he do that? He just wants to worship you and love you.

Also anything where people could hear or see you. He hopes the bedroom walls are soundproof cause his jealousy side does not like the idea of anyone hearing your noises and seeing your body the way only he should get to see it. He once accidentally walked in on you changing and despite his very flustered state, he lightly scolded you for leaving the door unlocked. What if someone else walked in?! :c

O = Oral (Do they prefer giving or receiving? How skilled are they?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ As mentioned quite a few times already, he loves getting head from you. Your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock sucking, licking, and kissing—it drives him crazy. He’s not selfish though, he loves giving you head as well. Got a pussy he could eat out? He’s already sitting on the floor by the edge of the bed with your legs spread over his shoulders as he eats you out like you’re a delicious last meal.

He’s surprisingly good at it, despite having no experience before you came into his life. It mostly stems from him being kind of unsure of himself and just trying as much as he can so he can please you just as amazing as you please him. It works. Maybe a little too well though but that’s okay! He’ll spread your thighs apart and whisper sweet praises to you as he takes another lick of your sweet juices.

P = Pace (Fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He likes starting slow and getting faster. Slow because of the intimacy and being in the moment with you but as the night wears on, the more needy and desperate you both get and he just can’t get enough of you. He needs either you riding him until he can’t breathe anymore or his cock so balls deep in you that only his name is all you know.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies over proper sex)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He doesn’t…mind them. I mean, they still feel good and since it’s you, of course he’ll do it buuuuuut he prefers proper sex-er, love making. Honestly if you both don’t have enough time, oral is preferred. If you do get a quickie in though, please still hold his hand and make him feel loved when you’re done your little fun together. It’s the love and care that he craves.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, take risks, ect?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Not really. Public fun maybe, but that’s usually reserved for oral and even then, he wants/needs you guys to be somewhere at least 98% private. Want to suck him while spending the day at the beach? Yes, sweetheart, of course you can but please not here—let’s find someplace a lot more secluded, okay?

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go? How long do they last?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He cums quickly and gets hard from a few dirty words and naughty touches from you. In other words he’s sensitive as fuck but please don’t stop, he loves the overstimulation and those pretty noises you make. The most he’ll be able to go is about 4 rounds before it starts feeling so overwhelmingly good that it actually starts to hurt. If you can still go however, he’s more than happy to let you sit on his face. He’ll be so lost in subspace, the only thing on his mind would be you and the taste of your pretty pussy.

T = Toys (Do they have any toys?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Adam gifted him a fleshlight once, just to be a dick and tease him. You guys do use it though sometimes—mainly when you feel particularly cruel and want to tease him. Straddle him, using the fleshlight to jerk him off while he sits there trembling and begging for you to stop teasing him. It feels good but you just feel so much better.

U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Despite how subby I made him out to be, sometimes he’ll take charge. He’s definitely a switch, leaning more towards bottoming. When he’s topping though, he likes to tease you by eating you out over and over. It’s one of the few times he gets to hear you whine and whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer, as he drives you so, so close! One of the other reasons he teases you like this, is because he knows he doesn’t really last that long in bed compared to you. So getting you all needy, desperate, and wet for him is basically part of his plan to get you to cum good and all over him when he finally fucks his cock into you.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds do they make?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s pretty loud. He doesn’t scream but he isn’t like, a quiet fuck either. He whimpers, moans, and begs—doesn’t matter if he’s topping or bottoming. If you peg him-or you got a dick-though, he’s screaming in pleasure. Tries to be quiet, not that successful.

W = Wild Card (random nsfw headcanon)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ LOVES lazy morning sex. You’re both so sleepy, yet so needy, loving, and clinging to each other the entire time. It’s like you can’t keep your lips off of each other. When he’s topping, he loves hovering above you, holding your body close to him, exchanging many loving good morning kisses as he finds a nice steady rhythm to fuck his cock into you nice and deep.

When you’re topping he likes sitting up against the pillows and headboard as you lazily ride and grind against him. His hands he wouldn’t know what to do with as all he wants is to keep touching you and keep you close. Definitely always kissing each other though. He loves it when you eat each other’s moans like this ♥︎

X = X-Ray (What are they packing?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ He’s pretty average at about 5 inches. Fully erect though he’s about 6 inches. His cock is decently thick. Like the rest of him, it’s paper white but the head has a golden hue. Surprisingly heavy balls—probably from the literal centuries they’ve gone having not been emptied.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Not high so he wouldn’t really initiate that often. If you initiated though, that’s another story. It just needs to be with you and plus only you can really get him going. If you have a high sex drive, don’t worry, you won’t be flying solo a lot. And when he gets into it, he gets into it. Could and will go hours upon hours because of you.

Z = ZZZ (How quick they fall asleep afterwards?)

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It takes a lot out of him, especially when he’s bottoming/subbing. So he can easily fall into slumber but he loves the aftercare so he stays up until your both settled. Then he’ll allow himself to drift off to sleep with you right next to him.

A/N: I’ve been wanting to make this for so long and then finally at like 1am I was like, you know what… I’ll do it. And now it’s 4am and my sleep schedules ruined—

Heh, worth it though

Also might’ve went a bit ham on the “Kink’s” portion I’m so sorry 💀💀

[perlelune]

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | v.

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

Peering outside the window, you unleash a melancholy sigh. The sky is bright and blue above campus, not one cloud darkening its expanse. 

A stark contrast to your somber mood. 

You wish you could soak up the warmth of the sun spilling through the glass window of the café, but you’re too high-strung to bask in the sunny weather. 

"Here you go," Ethan enthuses, yanking you away from your lugubrious train of thought. 

You give him a wobbly smile, accepting the steamy cup he slides between your hands. In the process, your fingers brush against his own, and Ethan’s throat bobs. His gaze lingers where your hand touches his for a few seconds before he scratches the back of his neck and sits in front of you.  The spicy, warm scent of the drink engulfs your senses in a blanket of comfort and familiarity. Your lashes flutter in awe as your eyes round.

"H-How did you know my coffee order?" 

He shrugs, a lopsided smile canting his lips. 

"I think Mindy mentioned it." 

"Did she?" 

His smile broadens. "I think. How else would I know it?" 

You press your lips together. You suppose it does make sense. Still, it astonishes you the heap of little things Ethan has noticed about you since you met him. 

Acceptance settles within you beneath his unflinching gaze. 

"You're right." You nod then spot the little plate Ethan placed near the edge of the table. Your mouth waters at the sight, your stomach wrenching. When’s the last time you had a proper meal, or something sweet? "Oh, you got me a pastry too." Fingers stretch towards the appetizing treat but retreat as Alana’s voice rings in your head. Sending Ethan a contrite glance, you twist your hands in your lap. "I'm sorry. That's very nice but… I can't accept it."

Ethan’s bushy brows draw together. 

"You don't like sweets? I didn't realize." 

You wave your hands before you as you rush to elaborate, "I do. It's not that." A deep exhale drops from your mouth. "Alana…the captain of my team. She said we all needed to lose five pounds before the next game. So no one on the team is allowed to have carbs."

Your cheeks come aflame under his intense stare. The anger in his tone startles you. 

"That's mean. Who does Alana think she is?" he scoffs. His tone softens as he adds, "Besides, you're the prettiest girl I've ever seen. You don't need to change a single thing about yourself."

A spontaneous smile blooms on your face at his compliment and the sincerity laced in his words. 

"Thanks, Ethan. That's so sweet." His chestnut gaze beckons you, drifting from your face to the pastry. You nibble your bottom lip, stomach clenching. Alana would be pissed if she knew…but you’re also starving. You don’t ponder for long before reaching across the table for the sweet delicacy. "I guess I'll have it anyway. Just promise me you won't tell her."

"My lips are sealed."

Ethan patiently watches you take a few bites, a grin etched on his boyish features. As soon as the sugar melts on your tongue, your spirits are lifted. 

When you’re done eating, he pulls out books, paper and pens from his backpack. 

You remember why you’re here and straighten your back. 

"So, where do you want to begin?" he inquires, unscrewing the cap from his ballpen and beginning to scribble on a piece of paper. 

You fidget and cast your eyes downward. 

"I'm not sure," you mumble. 

"What do you struggle with most?" 

Embarrassment tickles your insides. 

"Uh…Everything?" He gawks at you and your face heats. "This class is way too hard for me, Ethan."

He shakes his head, that gentle, encouraging smile never leaving his lips. 

"You're selling yourself short." At your crestfallen expression, Ethan offers, "We'll start at the very beginning and work our way from here. How does that sound?" 

You gape at him, your chest swelling with hope. For some reason, you nearly expected him to give up on you right here and there. 

You know you’re not exceedingly bright and that you narrowly got into college. If it weren’t for Chad and Mindy helping you study for the SATs and giving you tips…you’re convinced you wouldn’t have made it at all. 

"Amazing," you chime, plucking a chest-deep chuckle from him. 

Hours fly by at the café as Ethan takes time to break down concepts, make you flash cards and draw figures to help you understand the basics of economics. 

You lose track of time, hanging to his every slow, patient word. Every time you ask a question, he never gets upset or belittles you, instead going over everything again without ever losing his cool. 

While some areas are still fuzzy at the end, you feel a lot more equipped to understand the course material than before. 

Ethan encourages you, promising the more sessions you’ll have together, the more things will make sense. 

And you actually believe him. 

"You're like the best tutor ever." 

You bounce in excitement as Ethan giggles.

"I didn't do much."

"Not true. You make complicated stuff sound easy, Ethan."

His cheeks glow pink at your praise. 

Leaning forward, you confess, "Even Mindy gave up on helping me with my assignments. She didn’t have the time…or patience. And she’s my best friend." Slanting your head sideways, you beam at him. "You're the smartest guy I know so I appreciate you taking the time."

Ethan ogles at you before clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck. "Anytime," he says while putting his books back in his bag.

"Can I keep this?" you inquire, gathering the stack of papers covered in Ethan’s neat handwriting. You’re touched that he took the time to explain all this to you. 

"Of course, it’s all for you. If you need anything, just text or call me." His inflection lowers as he bashfully looks down. "Even nighttime is fine."

His words summon flashes of the night before. Overwhelmed, tears begin pricking behind your eyes. 

"Nighttime…" you quaver. You blink and salty water fills your gaze. Ethan immediately gets up and joins you on the other side of the table, handing you tissues and carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. Once again, you wipe your tears. You wonder how there’s still water left in your body considering how many times you’ve bawled your eyes out today. 

"I’m sorry," you blubber.

"It’s okay." He rubs your back, licking his lips before he whispers, "You don’t need to shed so many tears over him, you know?"

A shuddering breath cascades through your throat while you gape at him in confusion. 

"What?"

His jaw clenches, his gaze darkening somehow. 

"That alpha douchebro Connor. He doesn’t deserve you crying over him."

"It’s not…" you trail off, shame creeping inside you. You have no desire to revisit the events from last night. Every time you recall them, a wave of sickness takes hold of you. 

Ethan continues, his voice even harsher than before, "Truth be told I bet he had it coming." Your jaw drops. Ethan’s shoulders heave and slump as he explains, "I heard he was awful to girls… and that you weren’t the only one he was texting before he died."

Shock ripples through you at this newfound knowledge. It’s dumb and irrelevant now, but you thought Connor genuinely liked you at least. 

Sure, he got carried away that night and got a little pushy, but you’re sure he just had one drink too many and wasn’t acting like himself. 

Your forehead wrinkles as you chide him, "That’s an awful thing to say. Regardless of what he did…no one deserves to die like that, Ethan."

Ethan sighs and lets out an awkward laugh. 

"You’re right. I shouldn’t have said anything. Murder’s like…fucked up, I guess."

"Y-Yes, it is," you reply, taken aback by his casual tone. 

Gaze still holding yours, he bends over you and adds, "But he was a lame dudebro, and you can do so much better. I hope you know that."

You sink in the depth of his warm, brown orbs, both flattered yet a little unsettled by his fervent statement. 

It’s something even Mindy told you before, that you only fall for douchebags that don’t deserve you, but you never felt that was true. 

Still, no one ever said that to you with such emphasis. 

"I…appreciate it," you reply, rubbing your puffy eyes as fresh tears threaten to spill.  

His large hand travels up and down your back. 

"Is there something else by any chance? I’m a pretty good listener."

Heat rushes to your cheeks. There’s no way you can tell him what occurred. The mere idea makes you want to die. 

Your mouth trembles as you dip your chin.

"No, there isn’t."

After a few minutes of silence, Ethan’s gentle voice sweeps over your temple. 

"Can I do anything to make you feel better?" 

Your eyes lift to his, deep brown pools filled with concern. 

You mull it over. There is one thing. A thing you sometimes do with your friends, but you’re a bit self-conscious about revealing it to him. 

"I…" You emit a thin, unsure laugh. "No, that's silly. You're gonna think I'm, like, so shallow."

His thumb settles between your shoulder blades, caressing softly. 

"I won't judge you, I promise. Just tell me."

"When I feel bad…" You squirm and evade his focus, gaze darting about the café as you mumble, "I like to go shopping and eat ice cream afterward."

Ethan snickers, but not in a mean way. Mirth lights up his features. 

"I don't think that's silly at all, especially if it helps you feel better." His face softens. "I can take you if you want."

"Really?" Surprise and happiness coalesce in your tone. You hate shopping alone. Your brows knit as a thought resurfaces. "But I promised Mindy and Anika we’ll meet up later..."

Ethan sends you a wide grin. 

"I’m sure they’ll understand."

Going on a shopping spree with Ethan is surprisingly fun. He doesn’t mind how many outfits you try, praising your choices every time. 

And if sometimes his eyes rest upon you a tad too long, that strange smirk playing on his lips, you let yourself ignore that. 

After all, a lot of the clothes you picked display quite a lot of skin. 

Boys always stare, you’re used to that. 

And it’s just Ethan looking. It’s not like he’s getting any ideas. 

When it comes time to pay for your purchases, he stops you before you can collect your wallet, placing a stack of bills on the counter instead. 

You give him an open-mouthed stare. 

"Ethan?! Are you crazy? That’s a lot of money. You don’t have to-"

He grabs the clothes from you and gestures at the cashier to put them in bags before you can even think of returning them. 

"No way I’m letting you pay. My treat, okay?"

"Ethan…"

His tone gets firmer, quieting your protests. 

"I insist."

Your body deflates as you’re stunned by the shift in him, particularly his staunch refusal to let you argue. 

"Okay," you concede. 

After leaving the store, with Ethan carrying your bags and refusing to let you lift a finger, you get on your tiptoes and plant a kiss on his cheek. 

Red spreads on his face as he peers down at you. 

"You’re so nice to me," you say cheerfully.

He just smiles at you in that lopsided, mysterious way he does. 

"Well, I'd say you more than earned it."

~