#SORRY I needed to get it out of my system.

[mameillieureennemie]

author's note: an idea sprung up in my head where vi and reader are co-workers who hate each other but ACTUALLY—

summary: vi's been a constant pain in your ass for ages; a co-worker who lives to irritate you mercilessly. until things come to a head and a secret is unraveled.

cw: modern day, co-workers, office au, vi x f!reader

"I fucking hate you."

"Oh, that hurts my heart, princess."

"Don't call me that."

"What? Princess?"

Your pen nearly snaps in half due to the death grip you have it in. You're absolutely furious; your rage is a burning force bubbling away at the pit of your stomach. It's hot enough to have your heart racing, thundering loudly in your chest as your blood roars in your ears.

"I swear to god, Violet," you hiss dangerously, your eyes narrowing into thin slits. "Call me that one more time, and I'll strangle you with my bare hands."

Vi raises a brow, frustratingly unaffected. "Promise?" She says, lips curving into a mocking smile, and oh, your vision goes red for a second.

Your mind drifts to all the horrible things you could do to Vi. In graphic detail. And that seems to calm you down, which should be concerning. But you can't afford to get into an all-out fight with her, in the middle of a work day, while your co-workers mill about.

Knowing them, they're just waiting for this to happen. And you can't afford to give them that satisfaction, so you take a deep breath, attempting to cool your system down.

Then you hand over the documents to Vi, emotionless, as you say, "Deal with this."

Vi, noticing that you've tapped out from your usual brawl, eyes you for a second before replying, "Sure thing."

With that, you turn to walk away so you can leave this space. But before you can even make it to the door, Vi's opening her big mouth to say:

"Princess."

It's hard for you not to lose your mind after that.

"Is this going to be a common occurrence?" Mel asks, already tired as she looks between the two of you. "I mean, we already had the fiasco a week ago where you two were yelling at each other in the break room—"

"She started it," you interrupt with a mumble, shying away when Mel aims a warning look your way.

"I don't care who stared it," Mel retorts before leaning back in her chair with a heavy sigh. "I just expect more from my employees. I expect harmonious working relationships, not arguments that turn into screaming matches. If this happens again, there's going to be serious consequences. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Ms Medarda." You and Vi grumble in unison, and you're soon walking out of her office. You immediately start towards your desk, wanting to get far from Vi because your anger has yet to subside. It wasn't your fault that this happened; all Vi had to do was take the documents you handed her, but no, she had to turn it into something else.

And now Mel's got her eye on you, which is the last thing you need and—

"Hey."

That's Vi's voice, calling out to you, and the last thing you want to hear. So you keep striding, hurrying your pace to keep the space between you two. But Vi's fast; she's closing the distance and wrapping a big hand around your arm.

The touch is enough to spike your annoyance a decent amount.

You rip your arm out of her grip, baring teeth as you grit out, "What?"

Vi raises both hands up to show she means no harm. Then she's stuffing them into her pockets, sighing before she says, "Look, I'm sorry."

That throws you through a loop.

"...What?" You ask again, only less hostile and more confused.

"I'm sorry," Vi repeats easily. "I...didn't mean to rile you up so much. It's just..." She struggles for a second. "It's like when you pull on a girl's pigtails because she's cute and annoying the fuck out of her makes her talk to you?"

That throws you through another loop.

You blink a few times, trying to compute what she just said before you go, "You're fucking with me."

Vi huffs a laugh. "No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you argue. "Because you can't be telling me that the reason you've been antagonising me is because you think I'm cute."

Vi shrugs, giving a lazy smile. "Yeah, that's exactly it."

You stare at her for a moment, a rush of emotions going through you. Then all you're feeling is a mixture of frustration and amusement.

"What are you? 8?" You retort, unable to think of anything else because so much has been given to you at once. The biggest being that Vi's just kind of admitted to having a crush on you and has been using preschool antics to catch your attention. Regardless of that attention being full-on rage which could have resulted in murder.

"Give me some credit," Vi replies, rolling her eyes. "I'm, at least, 10."

That draws a chuckle from you, soft and short, but a chuckle nonetheless. And Vi smiles wide because she's heard it, and she does have a nice smile, you notice.

There're many things you want to say, some of them not so kind while some more curious. But something warm flutters in your chest, giving life to a feeling that you haven't felt in a long, long time.

"...You're stupid," is that you finally settle on, and Vi laughs loudly at that. She closes the space between you two a little further, tentatively grinning.

"So I've been told," she replies before nodding towards the elevators. "So do you maybe wanna grab lunch with me or something?"

You hold Vi's gaze for a second, purse your lips before giving a small smile.

"No," you say, walking backward to maintain your gaze with Vi. "I'm busy."

"Tomorrow?"

"Nope."

"The next day?"

"Nah."

You and Vi are beaming at each other now, the space between you as wide as a chasm.

"What do I gotta do?" Vi asks, eager, and you laugh.

"Go a week without pissing me off, then you can take me out."

Vi's gaze turns determined, the look sending a slight shiver down your spine.

"Deal."

[prettyboykatsuki]

give it to me like you need it, baby | zayne (lnds)

❅ tags ; afab + fem!reader (referred to with she/her several times), established relationship, vague depiction of medical injury, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, fingering, unprotected sex, reader is very spoiled skjdds, 18+

❅ wc ; 5.7k (???????????)

❅ a/n ; i started playing this game 48 hours ago. i am out of my mind. sorry. please no spoilers for now JKSDJD. also shoutout to @acerathia who imbued me with even more zayne brainworms that resulted in this KJDSKJ

this is just porn. no plot like fr at all!! dont think too hard about anything!!!! also sorry if the characterization is inconsistent </3

❅ synopsis ; refusing to take your prescribed pain meds, you suggest a different type of pain relief from zayne to heal your injuries.

“You should be more careful,” 

Zayne’s voice is even. It’s the first thing to greet you when you wake up from your most recent round of medication.  There’s a pleasant clarity that comes with every tone and intonation, that somehow manages to  trample the thick fog in your brain after waking up from your last round of narcotics. 

The pain has settled, from a sharp throb to a dull ache but it’s there. You glance around the room for some way to tell the time. There’s still light out but your limbs feel heavy, so you must’ve been asleep for a while. 

“It’s almost evening,” Zayne says, like he’s reading your mind. He sits at the stool at your side with an expression, eyes softened with worry. “An hour or so till sunset.” 

“Right,” You reply. You wince as you sit up, bruised sides still tender and head heavy. You rub your eyelids, a deep pressure in your skull—just behind them, as you readjust to the remnants of light in the room. “Shit, it hurts.” 

“It’s been enough time between doses, so you’ll need to take them again soon for the pain.” Zayne says. 

Your lips curl instantly, shaking your head. “No way. I don’t want to take them again.” 

Zayne stares at you for a while. “You wouldn’t have to take them at all  had you taken the necessary precautions in the first place so I fear there’s little choice in the matter. The pain will be hard to manage without the medications,” 

“Are you nagging me, Doctor?” 

He shakes his head. “I’m treating you. Your injury is substantial and I don’t want you to do anything to aggravate it. Nor do I want you to suffer needlessly” And then, a little softer. “I don’t like prescribing such a strong dosage either.”

“But you did.” 

“Because my patient is severely injury and I’m worried for her quality of life,” Zayne says, firm but not unkind. “Perhaps if said patient took more care to preserve themselves, I could prescribe something lighter.” 

“Are you holding a grudge against me?” 

“Against your recklessness, yes.” 

You pout unthinkingly. “I’m sorry. Don’t be angry.” 

Zayne reaches his hand towards the corner of your mouth, pressing his thumb into the line of your frown. “I never said I was angry. Just worried. Don’t trouble yourself.” 

“Then who should I trouble?”

Zayne doesn’t reply to you, though he does smile light enough for you to catch sight of it in the dim lights. He goes back into physician mode before you get a chance to say more, and you’re too tired to give him your usual banter.

There’s a beat of silence between you where Zayne is writing something down on pen and paper while you daydream aimlessly. He’s probably documenting your injuries for record keeping in the system. Encountering an anomaly in your line of work is deceptively common but there hadnt been any exact records on anything like your specific incident. Bits and pieces of stray information but that’s all. Nothing cohesive. While it appears to be normal albeit impressive bruising and broken bones, the unit still thought it best to be monitored. 

(That, along with Zaynes general tendency to fuss over your state, mean you’ve been in this position for a few weeks now. Zayne has taken one of his usual work days off just to tend to you.)

Despite the effort you've put into recovering, sustaining a massive injury has made you feel stir crazy and has not gotten rid of the pain entirely - causing you to wince when you move in the wrong way way.  Noticing the way you deflate, Zayne looks up from his papers. He pauses, studying you and the large bruise up your side. 

“Take your medicine”

“Don’t wanna,” You say petulantly, eyes closed. 

Zayne pauses then sighs as you stubbornly turn him away. He weighs his options before  moving on to focus on your injury. You’re conscious of the hand he has underneath your shirt. How delicately he moves, scarred digits touching like you’re porcelain. You don’t think he does it on purpose, or because he underestimates you. Rather, treating you preciously is the easiest manner of being for him. Still, it does make you pout.

“That’s a nasty bruise even for your line of work. Don't be stubborn.” 

You shake your head. 

 “I’m tough. I can take some pain. It’s better than being groggy at least. Feels like my heads been full of cotton for weeks.” 

“You say that because the medication is working. It’s dulling the pain enough for it to be tolerable even though it can feel unpleasant at times. It’s going to worsen again, gradually, if you don’t keep on the dosage schedule.” 

You open your eyes again to look at him. It’s hard to refute his points, even more so when he makes it so obvious his concerns lie solely in your well-being. But you really, really hate the way it’s making you feel. You feel like you’ve been hit by a crr in general but the added sluggishness from narcotics is too much. Enough to be stubborn and childish about even the most sound advice. You shake your head again, trying to think of a solution to appease you both. 

It doesn’t last long since you quickly get lost in another train of thought as a result of your brain fog. 

When your mind catches up with reality,  your eyes flutter open to a worried looking Zayne. Half-conscious, you feel keenly aware of his presence. Of his hands resting on your sides and the heat that lingers when he moves them. His hands are covered in tens of small scars, fingers thick and long while managing to be elegant. A precision to him. To his features, to his movements, to his actions. 

“Something on your mind?” 

“Hm…?” 

His lips quirk. “You’ve got a look about you,” 

“I was just thinking of alternatives on how to manage pain.” 

“Another medication you mean?” 

You shake your head, smiling crookedly. 

“There are different kinds of pain relief, right? Something more… holistic.” 

“Holisitic?” 

Opting to answer his question another way, you let out an exaggerated noise of relief. “Your hand feels nice doc,” 

Zayne, quick on the uptake, hums to himself not showing any reaction.

“Does holistic feel like the appropriate vocabulary for what you’re implying?” 

“Maybe… something more physical.” 

“I see.” He hums. “And how would something that puts strain on your body improve your injury?” 

“Improving my mood is also an important part of recovery.” 

Zayne sighs. “Please be more mindful about my position as your doctor.” 

“You sound like you’re considering it when you don’t reject me outright.”

“Tsk.”  

He sits up from the stool he’d been sat on while tending to you, instead choosing to sit beside you in bed. You’re propped up in a mess of pillows and blankets, pressed close to the wall. There’s more than enough room for Zayne. The bed creaks under his weight as he stretches his legs, back against the headboard. You turn your head to look at him. 

A long silence falls between you, not uncomfortable. Heavy rather, with tension. Zayne, quick to indulge you, brings a hand up to cradle your face. His hand is cool against your hot skin, big palms cupping your cheek. He hums under his breath, hazel-green eyes tracing the outlines of your features. You keen into his palms and he laughs again, deeper. Richer. 

“I’m not against the suggested methods perse,” Zayne says slowly, holding your gaze while his thumb traces your lip. “Only that it may encourage your recklessness, should I give it to you. You’ve been cooped up in here for so long, I suppose needed some more stimulus isn’t far fetched.” 

“I’ll be more mindful.”  You promise, giving him the wettest puppy eyes you can while you nod enthusiastically. 

“I won’t forgive you otherwise.” 

He leans in. Just enough to tease. You frown. 

“Zayne,” 

His eyes meet your again, heating shooting through your spine. 

“Impatient, foolish, reckless. What should I do with a patient like you?” 

“Spoil me.” You reply shamelessly. His lips quirk up. “I take well to bribery.” 

“Is that really the most effective method?” Zayne pretends to ponder.

You nod. “Promise I’ll be on my best behavior, Doctor.” 

“I’ll hold you to it.” Zayne says, tone soft with affection. He holds a hand out for you. “ Come.”

Zayne tells you to move, but bears no intention of making you do so on your own. He wraps an arm around your back carefully - mindful of the tenderness in your ribs and side. He draws you into his lap with ease, your head tucked against his chest with his chin resting atop of your head. Your legs are drawn across his lap lazily, voice reverberating through your tired limbs as he speaks. 

“Comfortable? No pain?” 

You make an affirmative noise to him, cozying up in the way least straining to your body. 

He’s patient as he undresses you from the waist down - and you allow him, basking in the silent attention. In tattered sleepwear and half-sick, you barely move as the fabric rolls and peels all the to your knees - lazily lifting your legs to take them off along with your underwear in one swift go. A wave of embarrassment tugs at you, self-conscious as you nuzzle further into Zayne’s arms. Paradoxically finding comfort in the same person whose making your feverishness burn brighter, you let your hand clench weekly in his shirt. 

Naked, Zayne brings the hand not supporting your back up to your face. He holds your chin between thumb and forefinger and tilts your head towards him - a chaste kiss promising more. Your eyes lock for a heartbeat until you look away, shy. He lets you lean back further, lazier - until he’s at the right angle to hover over you to kiss you all the better. 

Contrary to the other ways he touches you, most times Zayne kisses you is fierce. Once, twice - to ease you into the pace of his mouth before you find your lips pulled open. It’s the only thing that he does this way, needy from the start. Your lips press to his sweetly, a noise of surprise slipping  that Zayne swallows in the next go. His lips are soft and pleasantly cool to the touch. 

Your hands grip tighter trying to find purchase in the overwhelming want of it. Slow and sticky kisses that make the back of your feel fuzzy, the kind that lingers in the minutes you’re parted. His breath is warm, faint with the smell of mint. 

The coy, cool demeanor you took suggesting this, fades—melts every inch of you. Your body goes slack with arousal underneath the assault, his tongue slipping against yours deeper and deeper. He gets breathy when he kisses, a longing sigh as you keen up into his mouth or suck his tongue - your body eager to be as wrapped up in the attention as you can. 

There’s something about this in particular that makes you feel pampered. Tucked away, safely. Zayne is familiar with the act of bending to your whims and your affirmed relationship has only made him more easily compelled. 

His free hand rests just above where your body longs to be touched. Deliberately above the navel, he slides over the softness of your belly. Traveling up slowly, his hand squeezes both sides of your chest. You can’t get enough air to say anything about how good it feels, so you whine instead - canting your hips to air for friction. Zayne laughs softly against your mouth. 

Less turned on, you think you would bicker with him about it. Turn your nose up at him for being so rude. Melted in his arms like lust liquified, you don’t know if you gave it in you. 

Deft fingers tweak your nipples underneath the thin fabric of your shirt. Zayne notices it for the first time touching you. He makes a face, faux disapproval causing his lip to curl.

“Wearing clothes like this with everything so visible. On top of your injury, you’ll get sick.” 

The words carry no weight or bite, playful at best. As if to prove a point, Zayne goes back over your clothes to touch them again. His thumb rubs across your hard nipples, your body shuddering from the rough texture at the fabric alongside Zayne’s fingers. He rubs them carefully, slowly. Pays attention to each one before settling on teasing the side more sensitive to the other. He knows the way to touch you, please  you down to the minutia. It makes you so wet you can hardly stand it. You squeeze your legs together with a frown. 

“I said spoil me. This is torture.” 

Your words are petulant even to your own ears. Zayne barely bites back a smile. 

���I wonder if your words about torture will hold up against your body if I touch you,” He kisses your temple to placate you, a hand at your waist to prove his point. “Patience,” 

“I can’t be patient,” You say, frowning. Zayne gives you an imperceptible look before leaning down, his voice close to your ear. 

“Should I help you then? Tell you how good it’ll feel if you sit through it obediently and allow me to have my way with you, hm? You like the sound of my voice right,” 

You let out a mewl. Zayne laughs. 

“Sit then, and wait for me to take care of you.” Zayne says gently. He kisses the corner of your mouth, trailing his kisses down to your jaw and neck. Bites so softly at the junction of your neck and shoulders, his voice a salve to your pent up lust. “Let me soothe the pain with pleasure.” 

You can’t be sure if it’s mercy or not, that your demands make Zayne more relentless in his fondling of your body. His hand doesn’t go further than your waistband. But they squeeze and grope all where he can reach. Cycling through hot, deep kisses that leave you breathless - toes curling up in fluffy socks unconsciously aching for more—and sweet, loving pecks to encourage you to put up with it a little longer. 

What keeps you tethered is the promise of pleasure, the assurance that Zayne always gives you what you ask for no matter how long or how much he may tease you until he does. It’ll be yours since you wanted it. 

You’ll manage to cum when he feels like it’s right. So you play into it. Beg sweetly in between sighs to touch you. Need you, need your hands, wanna feel even better. 

You like feeling Zayne get impatient, no matter how gradual or how slow. It never loses the thrill. The subtle gestures that his control is slipping away for you so slowly. Always worth the full brunt of your effort when you see his resolve slowly unravel - becoming sloppier in short doses. Sometimes, you get lucky enough to push him far enough and let go completely. 

“Spread your legs,” Zayne pants, desperate to get his hands on you. You do instinctually, gasping as soon as your swollen, throbbing clit brushes so lightly against his middle finger. His fingers are longer than yours - bigger and thicker. He rubs against your slit gently, feeling for how wet you are. It makes a noise as he slides through your folds, fingertip resting at your clit as he gives it a soft stroke. 

“Zayne,” You gasp his name. “Please,” 

No words follow your demand, but Zayne always makes good on his promises. Before you can think to whine again, he finds the spot that brings you pleasure the quickest and rubs soft circles into it. Steady pace paired with a complete understanding of the ins and outs of your body. Your pussy flutters in reply, whole body jolting from the contact. Pleasure seeps into you like the running flow of water, subtle but steady - the heat of your body melting the preciseness of Zayne’s ice. You feel a brief pain in your ribs, but its overwhelmed by the pleasure fizzling through you as Zayne rubs your clit in circular strokes. 

You rut against his hand, aching for more but Zayne keeps pace. 

You wonder how something can feel so different at the hands of someone else. How something you usually do alone and feel alright pleasure from can make you feel like this - like you’re burning from the inside when all he’s using is his hands. 

Zayne, sensing the buildup before you do, presses your mouths together again. He’s gentle this time but you’re desperate, a hand holding onto his face while you get nearer and nearer to cumming.

You know you’re on the edge when your muscles begin to tighten, mind rousing to the rush of dopamine and oxytocin. You pant his name sloppy as your mouth tests the syllables. Over and over and over as Zayne brings you to the peak. He’s quiet, laser focused on where his finger play with your needy pussy. Everything inside of you goes taut before you begin to unravel. Deep waves of rapture wash over you, from head to toe. Your cum spills, flows in thick sticky strands until you’re so wet you can feel it between your thighs and ass.

You take a shuddering breath upon your first release, trying to settle your mind through the aftershocks of powerful orgasm

You barely get a chance to breathe before you feel Zayne’s hand on your waist again. 

“You’ve a few more for me, right?” Zayne says, voice latent with unprecedented lust. You feel something hard pressing against your thighs, making you squirm. “Only once won’t be an effective treatment for a patient in so much pain.” 

You don’t get a chance to recover  your strength before you feel Zayne’s hands come down between your legs. Despite your efforts to run from it, Zayne holds you firm with his arm. Holds you in a way that won’t let you escape from it no matter how much you may try. B

efore you can finish riding your first high - the pads of his fingers find your clit once more. He goes to touch you indirectly, aware of your sensitivity and only heeding so much caution

The lack of direct friction is frustrating. Like he’s deliberately avoiding touching you where exactly you need while still making you feel good, a forceful staccato to an orgasm rather than a direct line to one. It feels good, it does— but it’s not enough. 

It makes you want more. With Zayne, you can’t be sure if its intentional or not. 

Your mind is too cloudy to speak to him, so you whine instead. Zayne has a talent for making you like that. Touching you in a way that renders your speech useless, forces you to lean on what you know. Leaves you nothing to ask him with except your body, your carnality, to get what you want. Everything you could possibly desire is yours if you shed your pride and ask. If you can’t ask, all you need to do is what you’re doing now—spread your legs and let him see just how much of a mess he makes you.  Zayne makes it easy for you. Fucks you in vulnerable, precise measures. He moves with the confidence necessary to wield a scalpel, uses it to take you apart perfectly before mending you to put together. 

No one knows how to build you up again how Zayne does. Who else is paying such close attention?

Your voice comes out shaking when you come around your second consecutive orgasm. The previous grogginess has been completely washed away, taken over by a stronger feeling of euphoria. Cumming again in such rapid succession blindsides you. Your mouth is fallen open. Silent, broken moans sound as the sensations starts to stir again in your core. Your belly is honeyed with lust - the muscles in your calves tensing hard as you thrash your legs around aiming not to lose your mind to the pleasure. Zayne is the only force keeping you upright in his arms and on his lap.

He tsks, half between sympathetic and teasing as you squeeze you thighs around his hand. “Stop squirming. You’ll hurt yourself. If your treatment proves to worsen your injuries and then we’ll have to stop—effective immediately.” 

Your voice comes out so unfamiliar and desperate, you barely know it as yours. “No, no, no don’t stop please, Zayne—”

“Then,” His voice is raspy against your ear, deeperer. Stained with lust. “Hold still and cum.” 

You force your body as still as possible at Zayne’s word. Your hands grip tight onto his shirt, stretching the material out with how hard you grip. You cry out as the knot inside of you untangles and frays.

 Zayne kisses you right as you get to the edge, forcing his tongue deep in your mouth to keep you from biting through your lip. You cum as soon as you feel your tongues touch, kissing deeply. 

You curl up this time in reaction to the gratification, your whole body folding in on itself. You can feel your pussy clench around nothing as you do, aching for something more. Like electricity sparking through the water, your pleasure is constant yet splintering. 

Pin-point accuracy leaves your mind completely muddled in the aftermath. When you manage to look up at Zayne, desire mixed with longing and affection puff up in your chest. It’s the way he looks down at you in the afterglow. Such sharp, intense eyes and strong features. Almost shattered, ruined with a restrained lust. Despite himself, despite being at his mercy, despite being weakened from healing wounds - Zayne holds you gentle. Puts you first even at odds with himself. 

You crane your neck up half tired to kiss him first. It’s nauseatingly gentle but doesn’t do enough to express your feelings. A mix of gratitude and compliance founded in mutual trust. You want to give yourself to him over and over and over - enough to wash away his worries. At the same time, you want him to want you so madly he abandons his usual restraint. 

Ultimately, your mind settles on the desire to make him feel good in whatever way you possibly can. You rub deliberately against the hard-on pressed against your thigh. Mellowed from cumming twice, you speak your thoughts frankly. 

“Fuck me.” 

He shakes his head. “You’ll really aggravate your injuries that way. I’d …. like too but I—” 

“Zayne,” You repeat, serious. “Fuck me, please.” 

He’s silent for a moment, eyes closed. 

“Want you to make me cum again,” You say, then add. “Wanna cum while you’re inside of me.” 

“You—” He takes in a sharp breath. “You can really be so—” 

“Zayne,” 

“Don’t call my name like that,” Zayne says on a sigh, rubbing your lower lip. “I’ve already conceded. Quit your pouting.” 

You smile at him, eyes wet with sincere joy. He lets out a strangled groan, followed by a sigh. “Given your injuries, you being on top would be best as to not cause anymore pain to you. Move gently.” 

“Will you help?” 

Zayne nods at you. “You don’t have to ask.” 

As promised, his touch is gentle as he takes you off his lap. His hands and arms give the necessary support to keep from further agitating your wounds- supporting your spine to ease yourself onto his strong lap with. It’s a wide fit to get your thighs over his lap but Zayne takes precaution.

Zayne pushes you to stand on your knees while you straddle him. He makes you lean on one side of him, your torso resting on one of his shoulders while you’re pressed slightly against the headboard. Uncertain of what he’s doing, you yelp in surprise when you feel his hands slide between your legs. One on your hips, securing you - the other one teasing your slit. 

“It’ll hurt if I put it in right away.” He clarifies. 

“I can take it.”

Zayne is quiet at that, choosing to ignore both your whining and the soft sway of your hips in a poor attempt to get him to fuck you quicker. Meticulously, Zayne slips his fingers into his mouth covering them with saliva first, before drawing them through the mess of slick between your thighs. Making his digits as wet as possible, he rubs your pussy until he finds your tight hole. You can feel your cunt pulse at the contact, taking in a soft breath as he eases the first finger inside of you. They’re thick. Thicker than yours by enough that you can feel some resistance as he works just his middle finger into you slowly. Patiently fucking it in and out until he’s all the way down to knuckle. 

When it’s easy to fuck you on one, he adds another - repeating the process until both fingers fit inside of you easily. The stretch leaves your breath hitching, thighs trembling slightly in anticipation. 

“One more should be—” 

“No,” You say immediately. “It’s enough already.” 

“You know very well it’s not.” 

“I can take it,” You coax, sitting back down properly onto Zayne’s lap, half naked. You rub yourself over the strained fabric of his sweats, wetting them with your own arousal. You’re pleased when you notice his own pre-cum staining them too. “Zayne.” 

Rubbing his temple, he holds you by your hips. You wrap your arms haphazardly around his neck as he casts his eyes towards you. Holding his gaze, you frown—face flush and lips pouty. He sighs, a noise of discontent slipping as his hands reach back and squeeze your ass - drawing you even closer to him. He closes his eyes, forehead resting on your shoulder. 

“What good is it taking such good care of your body as your physician when you’re so quick to throw it away in front of me, hm?” Zayne scolds half-heartedtly. You smile at him sheepishly, your eyes meeting. 

 He gives you a look, silent, encouraging you to take what you need first. 

Your hands are shaky as they reach the front of Zayne’s waistband, tugging until they slide down his thighs - along with his boxers in one smooth motion. Your thighs pressed together at the now familiar sight of his cock. Your thighs weaken at the sight of it, impressive length and girth - curved just right and too heavy to stand on its own. You reach out to touch it, a soft stroke to feel how hard it gets. It makes you gasp, feeling how it throbs between your fingers. Zayne suppresses a groan as your palm smooths over the tip. 

“Have you changed your mind?” 

You shake your head rapidly. Zayne lets out a breathless sigh against your collar bone. 

“Stubborn thing you are.” 

“Zayne,”  You peek at him through your lashes. “Can I?” 

He holds you close to him, careful not to grip you too hard. “Slowly.” 

You nod your head, pulling yourself forward on his lap to line the tip of his cock with your entrance. 

A long, shaky breath leaves your lips as you feel the tip of his cock slip against your folds. Adjusting to be sitting up a little more, you ease yourself down on Zayne’s hard length. You feel your pussy flutter in anticipation of being full. Placing our hands on Zayne’s shoulders, you ever so slowly slide yourself down on his cock. 

You both take a sharp inhale as the head of Zayne’s cock stretches your cunt open wide. Just the head is overwhelming, your thighs trembling as you do your best to take all of him inside of you. Your voice tremble, working yourself down inch by inch - desperately trying to adjust. His cock is big, too big - always more than you remember it being. You feel it up to your throat. 

So focused on taking it, you nearly miss the sounds leaving Zayne’s mouth each time you manage to take a little more of him. His voice is trembling, hot against your skin as he muffles each groan and sigh into your shoulder. His hands are tight with restraint as he holds you, trying his best to hold himself together. 

It takes you a beat or two. Long, restrained moments of silence before your body finally takes it. You moan as you bottom out, cock stretching your needy pussy out completely. You stay like that for even longer, longer than you would normally. 

“Aren’t going to move?” 

You give Zayne a look. “I don’t know if it’s possible.” 

“Spoiled girl.” Zayne tsks. 

Wordlessly, he uses his strength to slide you off of his cock in one go. Whining at the sudden feeling of loss - he fucks you back onto him. Carefully placing his hands on the most unmarred parts of your hips, Zayne fucks you on his cock with the same ease of a toy. 

After a few thrusts, your body adjusts to the feeling. You can feel the specific motion when it goes from a dull ache to a dull feeling of pleasure. Your waist goes completely weak in Zayne’s grasp as he fucks his cock up into you with controlled movements. Undulating just enough to make you gasp. Practiced with the full weight and gravity of his hips - but painstakingly measured so that it doesn’t hurt. It’s not slow, or fast - but a rhythmic inbetween that makes it hard for your mind to keep up.

If there was such a thing as getting fucked perfectly, you think Zayne is fulfilling it by all measures. 

The way he’s fucking the warm, slick heat of your cunt feels good beyond word. It’s relentlessly consistent,  head sliding against your sweet spot with ease. Precision guides his thrusts like it does everything else. Euphoria suffuses through your limbs as you get yourself fucked open on it.

The sound of his echoes in the room as Zayne keeps pace. You’re moaning loud now, shameless as the sensation builds and builds and builds but never quite hits its peak. You feel so full, but you need something else to get yo over the edge. 

“You want to cum like this, didn’t you?” Zayne says, matter-of-fact despite the level of calm in his voice.  His face betrays the composure in his voice. “Touch yourself. Make yourself cum in front of me.” 

Shakily, your hand finds itself between your bodies.You find your swollen clit for the last time and carefully rub between your fingers. It makes you gasp outright, nearly falling forward from the impact. Pleasure no longer plateauing, something bounds again inside of you. 

You can feel it coming this time. On the edge from the minute Zayne started fucking you to now, your body has been winding itself tighter and tighter until a knot formed right in the swell of your belly again. There’s something about this one that feels so much deeper then when you came before, something more overwhelming to it. He fucks you in places you could never reach, makes you cum like that too. 

You throw your head back noisily when you finally match your fingers to Zayne’s throat. 

“Fuck,” You hiss, trying your best not to lose the feeling. “Zayne, g-gonna—” 

Zaynes voice borders on a growl. “Cum for me.” 

One last time, your body finds release as Zayne holds you down on his cock and grinds into your g-spot while you cum again. Your nails dig into Zayne’s shoulders, holding onto him for life as your body wracks with shivers once more. Your last orgasm is the most overwhelming, the aftershocks feel like they last for minutes at a time instead of a seconds. 

Zayne cums quickly after you, panting into your neck like he’d been waiting the entire time for you  to cum first before finishing. You feel content as his seed spills into your pussy for the last time. 

A beat of silence passes between you before you speak again, 

“Thank you for the medicine doc,” You hum. “I feel all better.” 

Zayne simply goes along with you like alwys. “It’s what I’m here for.” 

__

After getting fucked good enough to knock out only a few moments after you came a third time, you aren’t exactly sure where or how you were going to wake up. 

When you do wake up though, your bruised and battered body - while still in dull pain, is being cradled by someone else. You feel clean too. Your clothes are changed and your skin is cool to the touch like someone’s been wiping you down and keeping an eye on you. 

Yawning, you open your eyes to the familiar sight of your partner. Zayne glances down at you without word. You feel his arm around your waist like a secure weight, tucking yourself into him.

Zayne’s first question is predictable. “How are you feeling, love?” 

Your heart flutters clumsily at the overt tenderness. “...Hurts a lot. It’s bearable though.” 

Zayne laughs as he notices your attitude. “What happened the my bold lover from a few hours ago? So bold she invited me to bed without hesitation?” 

Your face feels hot, warmth tingling from your ears down to your neck. “I was doped on a lot of narcotics so somehow… and sex is different from this you know?” 

“This…?” 

“Acting like a proper boyfriend when you’re always so…” You trail off. “Don’t you think that’s unfair?” 

“Are you saying I’m usually an improper boyfriend?” 

“Yes,” You say flatly, though you dont really mean it. Zayne chuckles. “At least you’re less…” 

“Kind? Honest?” 

“Playful,” You reply. Shy, you bury your face in his shirt. “You’re not honest but you’re always kind. You’re in too good of a mood.” 

“Will you be more comfortable if I act as usual?” 

You wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him gently. “This side of you isn’t so bad either.” 

“I’m spoiling my very unruly patient.” He hums. He leans down, a hand cradling the back of your head as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “So listen well to doctors orders and rest a bit longer. We’ll have dinner together in a bit so just rest.” 

As if caught by a spell, the mention of rest against has your eyes feeling heavy. You nod without thinking about it. 

“Hm… ‘kay,” You mumble. “Thank you… for taking care of me….” 

Zayne waits a beat or two before pressing another kiss to your temple, waiting for your breathing to even before he speaks. 

“As if it’s something to thank me for,” 

[woozinhos]

Angry sex with Gyu? +after care 🎀💕

Mingyu is pacing back and forth in the living room, his fists clenched at his sides. He's clearly upset about something, and the tension in the air is palpable. You stand by the door, watching him with a mixture of concern and frustration. You know he's been on edge lately, but you don't know why.

"Mingyu," you say cautiously, taking a step towards him. "What's going on?"

Mingyu stops pacing and turns to look at you, his eyes blazing with anger. "What's going on?" he repeats, his voice sharp. "You really have to ask me that?"

He runs a hand through his hair, clearly trying to calm himself down, but failing miserably.

"You've been ignoring me for weeks," he says, his voice rising. "You're always busy with work, or hanging out with your friends. You don't even seem to care about me anymore."

You flinch at his words, feeling a pang of guilt. You hadn't realized how much your busy schedule had been affecting him.

"Mingyu, that's not true," you say, taking another step towards him. "I do care about you. I've just been really busy with work lately."

Mingyu scoffs, clearly not believing you. "Busy with work? Or just avoiding me?" he retorts.

You feel a surge of anger at his accusation. "How dare you say that," you say, your voice rising. "I have been working my ass off for the past few weeks. I'm trying to provide for us, and make a name for myself in my career."

Mingyu crosses his arms over his chest, his jaw clenched. "And what about me?" he asks, his voice cold. "What about my needs? Don't I matter at all?"

You're getting more and more frustrated with Mingyu's attitude. "Of course you matter," you say, your voice trembling with anger. "But I can't just drop everything and cater to your every whim. I have my own life too, you know."

Mingyu rolls his eyes, clearly not convinced. "Your life is more important than mine, is that it?" he sneers. "You're too busy for me, but not too busy to spend time with your friends?"

You feel like you're being attacked from all sides. "That's not fair," you say, your voice rising even more. "My friends are my support system. They help me through the stress of work and keep me sane. They're important to me, yes, but so are you."

Mingyu shakes his head, clearly not satisfied with your answer. "But I'm your boyfriend," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "You should be spending more time with me, not them."

You throw your hands up in frustration. "You're being ridiculous," you say, your anger boiling over. "I can't drop everything and cater to your every need. I have my own life and my own responsibilities. You need to start being more understanding and supportive of that."

Mingyu takes a step towards you, his eyes flashing with anger. "Supportive? I've been supportive this whole time," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I've been supportive while you ignore me and prioritize your work over our relationship."

You feel a wave of anger and guilt wash over you. You know he's right, in a way. You have been prioritizing your work and your friends over him.

But you can't back down now. You stand your ground, refusing to let him win this argument.

"I'm sorry that I haven't been spending as much time with you as you'd like," you say, trying to keep your voice calm. "But that doesn't give you the right to be angry and accuse me of neglecting you."

Mingyu lets out a bitter laugh. "So now it's my fault that I'm upset?" he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want me to just sit back and watch as you prioritize everything else over me?"

He takes another step closer to you, his eyes blazing with anger. "You want me to just be understanding and supportive, even though you clearly don't care about me anymore?"

You feel a pang of guilt at his words, but you refuse to let him guilt-trip you.

"I do care about you," you say, your voice shaking slightly. "But I can't just drop everything and be at your beck and call. I have my own life, my own dreams and goals."

Mingyu scoffs again, his face twisted in anger. "Dreams and goals? Is that all I am to you? Some obstacle in your way?"

You're getting more and more frustrated with his accusations. "That's not what I meant and you know it," you say, your voice rising again. "You're my boyfriend, and I love you. But I can't just give up everything I've worked for to make you happy."

Mingyu's face twists into a sneer. "So what, you love me, but you don't care about me?" he says, his voice dripping with venom. "You love me, but you're willing to sacrifice our relationship for your career?"

You feel like you're being attacked from all sides, and you can't take it anymore.

"That's not fair," you say, tears welling up in your eyes. "I'm trying my best to balance everything. I'm trying to make you happy, I'm trying to make a name for myself, and I'm trying to be a good girlfriend. But it's not easy, and I can't just drop everything and cater to your every whim."

Mingyu scoffs again, his anger still burning bright. "You think you're trying?" he says, his voice cold. "You think that working hard and ignoring me is the same as trying?"

You can't hold it in anymore. You break down in tears, sobbing uncontrollably. You feel like you're being torn apart, torn between your career and your relationship. Mingyu watches you cry, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he looks like he might comfort you, but then he turns away, his face set in a scowl.

"Fine," he says coldly. "If you can't make time for me, then maybe we shouldn't be together."

You look at Mingyu through tear-filled eyes, your heart aching at his words. You know that he's angry and hurt, but you can't believe that he's suggesting breaking up.

"You don't mean that," you whisper, your voice shaking. "You don't really want to end things, do you?"

Mingyu pushes you against the wall, his lips crashing against yours in a rough, desperate kiss. He holds you tightly, his hands gripping your arms almost painfully. You're caught off guard by his sudden aggression, but you can't deny the heat that courses through your body as he kisses you. Despite the anger and tension between you, there's still a spark of passion and desire that burns bright.

Mingyu deepens the kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth as he presses you harder against the wall. His hands move from your arms to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place. He's rough and demanding, taking what he wants without any regard for your feelings. But you can't deny the way your body responds to his touch, the way your heart races and your breath quickens.

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as you kiss him back with equal fervor. Despite the anger and hurt between you, there's still an undeniable chemistry that draws you together. Mingyu breaks the kiss, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire and anger.

"You're mine," he growls, his voice low and possessive. "Don't you forget that."

He grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him. "You belong to me, and no one else. Understand?"

Mingyu's grip on your chin tightens, his eyes burning with a fierce intensity. "Say it," he demands, his voice rough. "Say that you belong to me."

He's angry, desperate, and frustrated, and he needs to hear you say the words. He needs to feel like he has some sort of control over the situation, over you. You look up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. Despite the anger and tension between you, there's a part of you that still loves him, that still wants to please him.

"I belong to you," you whisper, your voice shaking slightly. "Only to you."

Mingyu's grip on your chin relaxes slightly, and a small flicker of satisfaction crosses his face. He leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

"Good," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "Now let me show you just how much you belong to me."

Mingyu picks you up and slams you down onto the bed, pinning you beneath him. His body is heavy on top of yours, trapping you in place. He looks down at you with a possessive glint in his eyes, his hands roaming over your body with a sense of ownership.

"You're mine to do with as I please," he growls, his voice low and rough. "And I'm going to make sure you never forget it."

Mingyu rips your clothes off with a rough, aggressive motion, leaving you exposed and vulnerable beneath him. He looks down at you with a predatory gaze, his eyes roaming over your naked body hungrily. He takes in every curve, every inch of skin, and his desire for you only seems to grow.

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs, his hands tracing the lines of your body possessively. "All mine."

Mingyu is a mess of desperation and need as he looks down at you. His body is taut with tension, his muscles coiled like a spring. He's been holding back for so long, and now he's unleashing all of his pent-up frustration and desire on you.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I need you. I need to feel you, to claim you as mine."

Mingyu quickly strips off his own clothes, his movements rough and impatient. He doesn't care about the clothes, he only cares about getting as close to you as possible. As he sheds his clothing, his body is revealed to you, toned and muscular, and filled with an intensity that takes your breath away. As Mingyu stands before you, completely naked and on full display, your thoughts begin to race. You can't help but think about how attractive he is, how desirable he is, and how much you've been neglecting him lately.

You think about all the times you've been too busy with work or your friends to spend time with him, and a pang of guilt hits you hard. You realize that you've been taking him for granted, and that you've been putting your career above your relationship. But as Mingyu crawls on top of you, his body pressing against yours, all thoughts leave your mind. All you can focus on is the feeling of his skin against yours, the heat between you, and the raw desire that's consuming you both.

Mingyu's voice is low and commanding as he speaks, his eyes dark with lust. "Get on all fours," he growls, his tone leaving no room for argument.

You can tell from his tone that this is going to be rough and hard, that he's going to take you completely and utterly. And you find yourself obeying his command without hesitation, getting onto your hands and knees for him.

Mingyu positions himself behind you, his hands roaming over your body possessively. He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You're mine to use, to claim. You're going to do exactly what I say, and you're going to take everything I give you."

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you back against him as he presses his body against yours. You can feel his hardness pressing against you, and you know that he's about to take you with a ferocity that you've never experienced before.

Mingyu doesn't waste any time, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he thrusts into you with a forceful motion. He doesn't hold back, doesn't take it slow, he just takes you with a raw, primal need. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, your body adjusting to his size and the rough pace he's setting. He's using you, claiming you, and you find yourself lost in the intensity of the moment. Mingyu sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with a force that's almost bruising. He's relentless, taking you hard and fast, his grunts and moans filling the room.

You can feel yourself losing control, your body responding to his rough touch and his relentless rhythm. You can feel yourself being pushed to the edge, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. Mingyu is lost in the moment, too consumed by his own pleasure to speak. All that comes out of his mouth are grunts and moans, primal sounds of desire and need. He focuses solely on the physical sensations, on the feel of your body beneath him, on the way you tighten around him as he moves. He's single-minded in his pursuit of his own release, driven by a raw, primal need to claim you as his own.

Mingyu's hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp sting sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through your body. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back roughly as he continues to pound into you from behind. He's taking complete control, using you however he wants, and you can feel yourself surrendering to him completely. The combination of the pain from the slap and the pleasure from his rough touch is overwhelming, sending waves of sensation coursing through your body. You can feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, your body trembling with need.

Mingyu senses your building pleasure, and he doubles his efforts, his thrusts becoming even more forceful and relentless. He's determined to push you over the edge, to make you come undone beneath him. You try to speak, but your words come out as a strangled moan. You can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, as Mingyu continues to drive you to the brink of ecstasy.

He chuckles darkly, his grip on your hair tightening as he pulls your head back even further. "What's that?" he growls, his voice low and rough. "Speak up, I can't hear you."

Mingyu's grip on your hair loosens slightly, allowing you to speak more clearly. But he doesn't slow his pace, continuing to drive into you with a brutal intensity.

"Say it," he commands, his voice laced with a mixture of dominance and desire. "Tell me what you want."

You try to form the words, but it's hard to think straight with the way Mingyu is moving inside you. You manage to gasp out, "I...I want to come."

Mingyu's eyes darken at your words, a wicked smile spreading across his face. "You want to come?" he asks, his voice low and taunting. "You want to come for me?"

Mingyu's voice is firm and commanding as he says, "Then come for me. Come for me now."

He continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming even more forceful and precise, hitting that spot inside you that sends shivers down your spine. He's relentless in his pursuit of your pleasure, determined to make you come undone completely. You can feel the pressure building inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it's almost unbearable. Mingyu senses that you're close, and he leans down, his lips brushing against your ear.

"That's it," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "Let go for me. Let me feel you come."

And with one final thrust, you shatter beneath him, your body convulsing with pleasure as you come hard around him. Mingyu groans as he feels you come around him, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through his own body. He continues to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm until you're trembling and spent. He slows his pace, his movements becoming more gentle as he lets you come down from your high. He runs a hand down your back, his touch gentle and soothing now.

"That's my good girl," he murmurs, his voice soft and possessive. "You're mine, and only mine."

Mingyu pulls out of you, his own body trembling with need as he takes himself in his hand. He looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire, as he strokes himself to completion. It only takes a few moments before he's coming, spilling himself over your body with a low groan. He watches as his cum covers your skin, marking you as his own. Mingyu's chest is heaving as he catches his breath, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body as if he's memorizing every inch of you.

He reaches out a hand, running his fingers through the mess on your skin. "You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "Mine to mark and claim."

Mingyu pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he strokes your hair gently. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your skin.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice low and sincere. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you like that. I just...I've been feeling neglected lately, and I took it out on you."

You curl up against Mingyu, burying your face in his chest. "I'm sorry too," you whisper, feeling guilty for neglecting him. "I didn't realize how much I've been taking for granted. I promise I'll do better."

Mingyu holds you close, running his hand up and down your back in a soothing motion. "I know you will," he says, his voice gentle. "I just need you to understand that I have needs too. And sometimes I need you to be there for me, to take care of me."

Mingyu looks down at you, his eyes softening. "Would you like me to run a bath for us?" he asks, his voice gentle and considerate. "It might help us both relax and unwind."

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yes, that sounds nice," you reply, snuggling closer to him.

Mingyu presses a kiss to the top of your head before getting up and heading to the bathroom. You can hear the sound of running water as he prepares the bath, and you can't help but feel a sense of anticipation building within you.

[arkhamsbrat]

❦ — jason todd x civilian! reader

in which jason is totally not planning on stealing you away from your shitbag of a bf

part 1 ! part 2 ! part 3 !

you were drunk- barely able to walk, drunk. whatever music your boyfriend was playing made your head spin while you stumbled back from the bathroom. jason had left his spot from the couch to come help you back. “i can walk. i’m grown!” you mumbled. he chuckled quietly, patting your side as he hooked his arm under yours.

“yeah, i know y’are, sweetheart.” he hummed and sat on the couch, hand held out so you could collapse into him. it was on purpose. jason wanted to piss your boyfriend off- wanted him to try and lay a hand on you again.

“you good?” he whispered, looking over to your boyfriend who had been glaring at you for the past few minutes. you shrugged, snuggling closer to him. “he always ignores me at these, don’t pay him no mind.” you weren’t paying any attention to the man on the opposite side of the room. everyone else was far too preoccupied kissing your boyfriends ass, why’d he need you?

jason rested his chin on your hair. “he ignore you a lot, doesn’t he?” it was exhausting, everything was always about him. something needed to be about you for once. you turned up to jason with a small pout. “no more him. ‘m done with him, jayce.”

not the best idea to say that to jason. he smiled down at you like you just handed him a bag of gold.“what’dya mean by done with him?” what a shame that his smile made your stomach flutter and your cheeks flush. “i’m leaving him.”

it only came out as a whisper, but jason felt the world stop around him. this is what hes wanted to hear for the past few months. you were too drunk for him to press for details- no matter how badly he wanted to. he’d let it slide, maybe press further the next time you two met up. all he did was nod before both of you spent the rest of the night silently people watching.

you don’t know when, or how you even passed out, but your boyfriend shook you awake. “get your god damn friend out so we can go to bed.” your eyes were dry, lids heavy. “what?” he scoffed at you again. “get jackson out. i’m fucking tired.”

you smacked his hand off your shoulder and looked to see jason sleeping peacefully. it was rare that jason looked peaceful, let alone slept peacefully. there were so many times you went to the library together where you caught him dozing off between pages. the alcohol was still and your system and not allowing you to force a happy tone. “his names’ jason. he drank, jus’ let him sleep here.”

he glared at you. “i dont give a shit, get him out. this is my apartment.” both of your names were on the lease. you were the one who found the apartment. “our apartment, and you always have people sleep here. chris? maya? it’s every weekend.” you returned his glare. your boyfriend raised an eyebrow and took a step back.

“you wanna do this in front of him?” maybe you did, maybe it was smarter. a drunk witness was better than nothing... but you were exhausted. if he just left you on the couch you would’ve been fine.“i want to sleep. jus’ let him be, we can-” he snapped his fingers at you before moving to shake jason awake. your boyfriend opened his mouth to speak, but before he could get a word out jason punched him, eyes snapping open.

“what the fuck!?” you stared on in shock, watching as jason stood up with a poorly hidden smirk. “shit, man i’m sorry! I’m not used to being woken up like that! you okay?” it was the fakest you’ve ever heard him speak.

your boyfriend held his nose and shook his head, glaring at you like you punched him. “don’t worry about it,” he muttered before leaning towards you to whisper, “i want him out.” ignoring his words, you pushed him towards the bathroom. “don’t get blood on the carpet, i want my security deposit back.”

as your boyfriend walked off, muttering god knows what under his breath, jason looked over to you smug as ever. you couldn’t help but laugh. “you’re awful, y’know that?” you whispered to him. jason shrugged and winked at you. “i don’t know what you’re talking about, it was an accident.”

[ya-zz]

Ramattra Drabble

"Oh, so now I'm the bad guy, Ramattra? Just because I tried to help you!?"

"You know nothing about what I am going through-"

"Then help me understand! Help me help you!"

He freezes for a moment, but his systems were too wrapped up in anger to let go. "You will only make matters worse and I cannot-"

"I'll make matters worse? Really? Is that how you think of me? You really think that I'm not capable of helping you!?"

The omnic watches the anger roll down your cheeks but all his words seem to get caught in his vocaliser.

"Every time I try to help, you shut me out! You accuse me of making things hard but I am trying to do what I can with what little I can offer. I'm sorry that I'm not some... some complex machine, who knows the answer to everything. I am fucking sorry that I can't be of use for you anymore than what I already am."

Ramattra just stares, optics glued to your teary eyes. The cracks in your voice, the pain behind your words, causes his own mechanical heart to begin shattering.

"You are right." He speaks slowly, almost as if he's trying to reason with himself, too. "You are trying. I have seen you try. I am sorry."

The tears don't stop falling as you stare at him with blurry vision. You want to speak, but the apology alone caught you off guard.

"I have been selfish, putting my needs before your own. I... I will be better. I am sorry for hurting you. Please, I do not wish for us to continue like this. I will let you in."

"I need your word because I can't keep doing this, Ramattra. I'm reaching my limit..."

"You have my word. I will not forsake you." He takes a step forward, a reassuring hand against your cheek. His thumb rubs against your cheek, soothing the heartache.

"I trust you."

"I know. You always have."

[my-castles-crumbling]

Feel free to delete this ask.

I've recently turned 18 and discovered that I'm transgender. But my family is disgustingly, y'know, transphobic to the umpteenth degree. /ns

I don't know what to do because I do love my family (somehow) still but I don't like being in this position. Sorry if this is too personal.

Hi <3

I think the first thing to consider is your safety. If you are receiving anything from your family that helps you live (Money, food, shelter), then you might want to come up with a plan to get that elsewhere before you come out.

If you aren't, do you have a support system that accepts you? If not, are you able to find one? I'd try to do that before you come out.

If you are independent and have a support system, then consider why you're putting your family's acceptance before your happiness. Is it worth it? That's something only you can decide.

Honestly, coming out and transitioning (in any way) is such a personal decision. Some people need to transition, even without a plan in place, because it is literally needed to save their life. Other people never come out, because they would rather not deal with the possible fallout. This is something only YOU can decide. But remember that there is nothing wrong with any decision you make, because it's a deeply personal decision. And remember I support you no matter what you decide <3

[moutainrusing]

hear me out

724 words, dorlene, the slytherin skittles

After a long, heavy silence, Barty broke it with a stony, “Dorcas.” He turned to face her in disappointment, “Dorcas Meadowes.”

She shrugged, remaining impassive as he sighed, “I can’t believe this. After everything, and you stoop to the level of a Gryffindor.”

“I mean,” Regulus tried defending her. “There are worse, obviously. Potter, for one.”

“But still,” Barty gestured indignantly. “McKinnon is like… the female version of Potter.”

“No, she isn’t,” Dorcas snapped, arms crossed.

“Don’t defend her,” Evan hissed warningly, glancing at Barty.

Gasping, Barty clutched his chest, “Are you telling me, Meadowes, that you actually like McKinnon?!”

“No,” Dorcas shuffled awkwardly.

“You’re lying,” Pandora quipped helpfully.

Dorcas cut her a scathing look, “Thanks, mate.”

“You were, though. We know you so well. We also know that you don’t feel sexual attraction without romantic attraction first, so when you put Marlene as a hear me out, it clearly meant that she actually likes McKinnon, Crouch,” Pandora addressed him pointedly.

Barty huffed, shooting a judgemental side-eye at the hear me out cake in the centre of their Slytherin dormitory, tarnished (according to him) by the photo of a beaming Gryffindor. “She has a chipped tooth,” he sniffed haughtily.

“It’s cute,” Dorcas muttered under her breath, gaze flicking back to Marlene’s photo. Really, she had to be heard out for this – sure, Marlene was an untouchable Gryffindor, but the whole point of hear me outs were to look at the untouchable and think, actually… you know what… And Marlene wasn’t even untouchable anyway! Gryffindors weren’t as bad as everyone made them out to be, they weren’t arrogant to the point that their heads fell off their shoulders and rolled at their feet like swollen boulders, they had brains, and with Marlene, Dorcas had realised that the whole house system was bullshit. A Gryffindor could be as cunning as a Slytherin, and Dorcas had first-hand experience with that.

“Dorcas,” Regulus was looking at her curiously. “Where did you even get a photo of McKinnon?”

Turning to face him blankly, she flipped him the bird. He knew exactly how she’d gotten the photo, because he’d been observing like he always did, and he knew, but he still asked, because for some reason he wanted her to say it out loud. “We’re friends.”

“You what?!” Barty spluttered. “But— You’re Dorcas.”

Evan frowned, “We know she’s Dorcas? What’s that got to do with anything?”

“It means,” Barty gestured deliberately, “that she’d be friendless if not for us! Dorcas would never talk to anyone first.”

“Aw,” Pandora cooed. “We’ve helped her break out of her shell.”

Begrudgingly, a smile tugged at Dorcas’s lips, but she denied, “I never had a shell.”

“Yeah, right,” Regulus scoffed.

“Okay, but,” Barty was still gesticulating erratically. “Does no one care that she’s horny for a Gryffindor?!”

“We’ve established that it’s not Potter, so I’ve got no worries there,” Regulus shrugged.

“I think it fits the enemies to lovers trope,” Pandora nodded wisely. “Opposites attract, apparently.” An evil glimmer flashed across her eyes, and she smirked at Dorcas, “Watch me write shitty fanfiction about you now.”

“No.” Dorcas immediately responded.

“But it’s how I demonstrate my support of your relationship,” Pandora pouted innocently.

“I don’t need support,” Dorcas replied stoically.

“You just need our acceptance,” Pandora laid a palm on her chest in understanding. “You can have it, Dorcas, you have my blessing to marry her!”

While Pandora wiped fake tears from her face, Dorcas grimaced, “We’re not getting married?”

“You’re not?” Pandora frowned in mock-realisation, “Oh! I must’ve made that up in my head! Sorry, love, the fanfiction simply writes itself.”

“Wow,” Dorcas deadpanned.

Shaking his head at Pandora and Regulus, Barty turned to Evan and asked, “And you’re fine with Dorcas being Gryffindor-sexual because…?”

Evan glanced around, pretending to look lost. “Am I not supposed to be?” (He really did not care in the slightest who any of his friends liked. Except maybe Barty, Dorcas thought.)

Barty sighed, “Fine. Fine, Dorcas, you win. Let the Gryffindors take over, then.”

Raising a brow, Dorcas smirked, “Who said anything about letting them take over?”

Regulus matched her expression, “Yeah, Barty. Even if the house system’s bullshit and really all of us have an amalgamation of various qualities…”

“Slytherins are still on top,” Dorcas grinned.

Barty steepled his fingers beneath his chin forebodingly. “Oh, goodie.”

[sellotaped-cookie-crumble]

I'm sorry I don't even care who sees this but I need to let it out Little Hwang In Ho!!! He has been stuck in my mind and I have some headcanons :]

I think he would be on the bigger side most of the time, but i'm sure that he can go lower if he's stressed out enough.

Would definitely be non verbal. I can't imagine him speaking when he's regressed. He's more of a pointer, and would use his hands to express himself, rather than his face.

I also don't see him wanting or having a caregiver. He's very closed off as is, but maybe if he really trusted someone, I think he would just enjoy their company, if he doesn't want to interact with them in his headspace.

The reason on why he started regressing was stress. Stress of the games not turning out as the VIPs wanted, someone breaching the system, betrayals all around, and just utter chaos setting everything up without getting caught for years can take a toll on one person.

One day it would be all too much for him, and he would tell off his guards by yelling and threatening to harm them, but underneath his mask he would have tears in his eyes. And then he would rush off into his room and start to slip for the first time.

He's not a big fan of playing when little. He has no energy for it. So instead, he just curls up in his bed or on the couch and tries to get as soft as possible. Maybe a blanket that he hangs onto wrapped around him, and something comfy on.

Very picky with food, but even pickier when he's regressed. If you give him something intricate to try, he'll spit it out and push the plate away from him. He prefers plain foods like just some rice and seaweed, or plain noodles with greens hidden in there.

If he had a carer, would love love love his hair played with. There is no 'buts' or 'ifs', he instantly melts if you card your fingers through his hair. Or even brush it!

But almost all of the time, his regressions are impure. Most of the time he would rush into his room, his heart hurting so much that all he can do is curl up in his bed and cling onto the bedsheets with balled fists.

I feel like he would also be so ashamed of his coping mechanism. How the only way he can actually de-stress is to "act like a baby". Poor thing can't help it though, because it's always involuntary. And he feels so nice and warm and relaxed when his mind is fuzzy, and nothing else seems to work like this does, so he sticks to it.

AAAAUUUUGGGHHH HE'S SUCH A BABY MY BABY LOOK AT THE LITTLE BABA I LOVE HIIIMMM!!!!

i know he's about to snap someone's neck in the first picture but he looks like he's hiding and all small and he's just a little baaaabyyy!!! X]

[spiralingguitarist]

Change my mind but X-Faded Girl by Vane Lily and Weevildoing is singlehandedly the most Dirk Stridercore song in the entire universe while also being the absolute furthest thing away from that.

[bigweldindustries]

going through the hades 2 stuff and im sorry but i just have to ramble a second because look at Hephaestus

he's not just a wheelchair user but also an amputee. an above knee amputee. wheelchair users are already next to nonexistant in video games but amputees exist in this really...disheartening? spot where they're pretty much just reduced to "person with a cybernetic limb" - it's always just somewhere from "just a cool visual design" to flat out "superpower". I can't think of a video game amputee that is actually disabled by their limb differences - I'm all for futuristic worlds where prosthetics and other disability aids are far advanced from what they are now, but that's not really what's implied by these designs. They're just... Cool designs that in no way reflect on the real-world experience of being an amputee.

Look at Hephaestus, though. Look at that prosthetic. Whilst stylised it very much looks like it functions like common mechanical knees - knee bends when thigh is lifted, knee straightens when thigh is lowered. He's a wheelchair user as well as a prosthetic user - every prosthetic user I know is also a wheelchair user as a prosthetic is not usable in every occasion and also cause exhaustion and pain if used constantly.

Whilst we can't see much of his wheelchair the position he's sat in and the wheels very much evoke active wheelchair to me - this carries on to very specifically the thickness of his arms. Whilst a lot of Hades designs are muscular Hephaestus has very noticeably thick arms - which makes sense, as active wheelchairs require a lot of arm strength.

Just overall this design is making me want to cry - he's not just an actual wheelchair user in a video game, he's a realistic depiction of an amputee, a disability usually brushed over in order to give a character a fun design quirk and nothing else. He's fat and he's hot and he's a realistic depiction of an above knee amputee. Oh my god. Oh my god?

[loserrofthecentury]

I think the funniest thing about the rhetoric that butchfemme is somehow heteronormative is that a lot of the things butches are called heteronormative for, men don’t even do.

[cappycodeart]

"The dead one! Yeah I haven't thought about her in a long time!"

A little theory I've had about Winter King's original motives based on his heartless comment about Betty and Ice King's original motives for kidnapping princesses in the first place...... clearly she gave off Bad Ex Vibes…

[space-bowl]

Ep 7 Aftermath (given the planet didn't explode yet)

Part 2

[tubbytarchia]

I told you I never stop thinking about merpearl

[monod1cot]

Transfem Paracelsus

[eggdrawsthings]

Are you tired of being nice? Don't you just wanna go apeshit?

I know his saber is blue but i made it red for dramatic purposes