#also I keep messing up on Long’s pronouns even though I made Long????

[bigender-cowboy]

Wound and secret for the OC game?

I HAVE TWO MAJOR OCS FOR THIS AND YOU KNOW ONE

tw for blood and violence under the cut

Longfeather isn’t the most innocent of cats, having a small bit of a sadistic manner even to a cat they love- or did love. They have a fear of battle due to this, and Berrystar excuses them from major ones. Their worst injury was the ankle break as they still has chronic pain

HUMAN OC JUMPSCARE NOT WARRIOR CATS

“M” or Campbell is known for their face injury and the murder of Ben Vasilyev (which as you can see they didn’t do). They handle pain or wounds in general with a crappy attitude, getting all snappy and more hotheaded (ESPECIALLY WHEN ASKED IF THEY’RE OKAY)

[lefteagleblizzard]

𝔙𝔢𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔣𝔢𝔞𝔯

Mike Schmidt X male reader

This was requested from a really nice person on tumblr: “I completely fell in love with your Mike Schmidt x male reader, and I have an idea for part four, if you make one. So you know how in the movie the aunt hires Max and her brother to mess with Mike's job. Well, what if the aunt hires someone to break into Mike's house on a night when y/n is babysitting Abby. Idk really just seemed like an ok idea.” Hope I was able to satisfy your request.

Tags: Part 4 of this miniseries of Mike Schmidt x male reader. No use of Y/N. Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Smut at the start. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Reader being called “good boy”. Blowjob (reader giving). Angst. Some small fight scenes.

Words count: 6000 words

If you have an idea for part 5, please let me know <3. I love spending time in reading others opinions

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

Part 1-part 2-part 3-Part 5-Part 6-Part 7-Part 8-Part 9-Part 10-Part 11

The evening was cloaked in a heavy, golden light, the last rays of the setting sun casting long shadows across the small, familiar space of Mike's home. The day had been long, and you could see the weight of it in the way Mike's shoulders slumped, the fatigue etched in the lines of his face. He was standing in the living room, one hand resting on the back of the worn-out couch, the other rubbing the back of his neck in a gesture that spoke of his tension and exhaustion.

Abby was already tucked away in her room, engrossed in some cartoon on the television at full volume, her laughter occasionally ringing out. You watched Mike for a moment, your heart aching with the silent burdens he carried, the unspoken fears that clouded his thoughts.

He hadn't noticed you yet, his mind clearly elsewhere as he stared out the window, lost in thought. You approached him quietly, your steps soft on the wooden floor. When you reached him, you gently placed a hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his worn jacket.

His head turned to look at you, and for a moment, the stress in his eyes softened, replaced by something warmer.

You stepped into the room quietly, not wanting to startle him, though he must have sensed your presence because he looked up, offering you a tired but warm smile "Hey," he greeted softly, his voice rough with exhaustion.

"Hey," you replied, stepping closer until you were standing beside him. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. "You look like you could use a break."

Mike let out a heavy sigh, the kind that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. He nodded, but the motion was half-hearted, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as you. "Yeah, just...' a lot on my mind," he admitted, his voice low and rough, tinged with exhaustion

He let out a heavy sigh, his eyes flicking to the paperwork before meeting yours again "Yeah, it's just.. everything feels like it's piling up, you know?"

You could hear the frustration and weariness in his voice, and it made your heart ache. You knew how hard he had been working, how much he was sacrificing to make sure Abby had a safe and stable home.

But you also knew he couldn't keep going like this without burning out. He needed to unwind, and maybe you could be the spark that helped him do just that.

After all, there were better ways to relieve stress, and your lips were more than ready to offer a hands-on demonstration.

You hesitated for a moment, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you considered your next words. Despite everything you had been through together, talking about anything remotely intimate still made your cheeks flush with heat.

"Mike," you began, your voice soft, almost hesitant. He looked at you, his brow furrowing slightly in concern, and you could see the question in his eyes. “What if...I helped you unwind a bit? Maybe I could help you shake off some of that stress?”

For a moment, Mike seemed caught off guard, his eyes widening slightly as he processed what you had just said. Then, a slow, almost relieved smile spread across his face, and he let out a low chuckle, the sound filled with a mixture of affection and amusement.

“You'd think after all this time, and after all the times we've seen each other naked, you wouldn't be so nervous around me," he murmured, his voice softening as he reached out to gently cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your flushed skin. "It's adorable"

Your cheeks burned even hotter at his words, and you ducked your head slightly, feeling embarrassed but also touched by his reaction. “I just... I’m not the best with words, but I really want to help you, in any way. I hate seeing you like this.”

His expression softened even more at that, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell. "You always know how to make me feel better," he said quietly, his hand slipping from your cheek to rest on your shoulder, his fingers gently squeezing in a reassuring gesture.

"And if you're offering... I'm not going to say no.”

His lips met yours. They were warm and soft, moving with a gentle but insistent pressure that made your heart skip a beat.

You kissed him back with just as much intensity, your free hand moving to cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Mike's hand tightened around yours, his grip almost desperate as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against your lips in a silent request. You parted your lips, allowing him in, and the kiss became more urgent, more intense.

His other hand moved to your waist, pulling you closer until you were nearly in his lap, your bodies pressed together.

You reached up, your hand resting on his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your palm.

"You're such a good boy," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something more primal.

The praise sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped your lips at the sound of it.

"It's okay," he murmured, his hands sliding down your arms to gently grasp your hands, guiding them to the waistband of his pants.

Mike's breathing grew heavier, his chest rising and falling with each breath as he watched you, his gaze filled with a mixture of affection and desire while your fingers began to undo the button of his pants. The intensity in his eyes made your own pulse quicken, and you felt a rush of heat pool in your stomach as you worked the zipper down, your fingers brushing against the growing bulge beneath the fabric.

He leaned in and captured your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned softly into his mouth, your hands moving to his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath his shirt. He was so warm, so solid beneath your touch, and it made you ache with need.

Your hands slid down his chest, your fingers brushing against the hem of his shirt before slipping underneath, your palms meeting the warm skin of his abdomen. He shuddered at the contact as he deepened the kiss even further, his tongue exploring your mouth with a desperation that made your pulse race.

Mike let out a low groan, the sound vibrating through his chest as you pushed his pants down, your eyes widening slightly as you took in the sight of him.

He was already hard, his arousal evident as it strained against the fabric of his boxers, and the sight of it made your own breath hitch in your throat.

"You're doing so well," Mike murmured, his voice rough with pleasure as he gently guided your hands to the waistband of his boxers, encouraging you to pull them down. "Such a good boy for me."

The praise made your head spin, your body flushing with heat as you followed his lead, pulling his boxers down until his length was fully exposed. You bit your lip, your gaze fixed on him as you took in every inch of him, the way he throbbed with need, the way his breath hitched slightly as you ran your fingers along the length of him, testing the waters.

Mike's hand slid into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you down to your knees, his grip firm but gentle.

You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest as you saw the hunger in his eyes. "Please, Mike," you whispered, your voice trembling with need as you leaned in and let your head rest on his thighs, your breath ghosting over the sensitive skin. "I want to make you feel good."

He let out a low, guttural groan at your words, his hips jerking slightly in response "Do it," he rasped, his voice thick with desire.

That was all the encouragement you needed.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against the tip of him, your tongue flicking out to taste him.

The salty, slightly bitter taste of him filled your senses, your tongue swirling around him, tracing every vein and ridge of his cock.

You slid your tongue up one side and down the other, slowly sucking him in as you began to take him deeper.

Mike's reaction was immediate, his breath hitching as his grip in your hair tightened, a low groan rumbling in his chest. "Fuck," he breathed, his voice rough and raw with pleasure. "That's it... just like that... good boy..."

The words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you moaned around him, the sound vibrating against his dick as you kept moving, taking him deeper with each bob of your head.

Mike's hips began to move in time with your motions, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps as he fought to keep control, to keep from losing himself entirely to the pleasure you were giving him. But it was a losing battle, his control slipping as he let out a series of low, guttural grunts, his hands tightening in your hair as he pushed you closer, his need for release becoming more urgent.

"Fuck," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "You're so good... so fucking good."

You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the tension in his body building with each passing second, and you knew he was close. You doubled your efforts, taking him as deep as you could, your hands gripping his thighs for support as you moved faster, more insistently, wanting nothing more than to push him over the edge, to hear him cry out your name as he came.

And then, with a low, broken groan, he did. His release hit you with a sudden, overwhelming intensity, the salty warmth of him filling your mouth as he came, his entire body shuddering with the force of it. You swallowed him down as you continued to work him through his orgasm, milking every last drop from him until he was spent, his chest heaving with the effort of catching his breath.

He leaned down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, his hand gently stroking your hair as he whispered, "Thank you"

His arms wrapped around you, holding you firmly against him. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

Mike grunted slightly as he shifted, trying to get a better look at you. “I wonder if you’ll ever stop getting all flustered and shy around me.” A small, teasing smile played on his lips, a rare sight that made your heart skip a beat.

Mike sighed, his hand gently stroking your thigh as he murmured, "I should get ready for work."

You knew he was right, but the thought of letting go of him, even for a moment, made your heart ache. Still with your butt seated comfortably on his lap, you tightened your grip on his chest, your voice soft and playful as you whispered, “Stay a little longer.” You laughed lightly, the sound a mix of genuine amusement and a hint of longing, hoping he’d catch the underlying wish in your words.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss while his hand squeezed softly your waist.

“I wish I could.”

You nodded, understanding, even though it hurt to let him go.

Reluctantly, you untangled yourself from him, watching as he stood and began to gather his clothes.

When he put his security vest on, he turned to you and stepped closer, the distance between you closing as he reached out, his hand coming to rest gently on your shoulder.

He glanced over his shoulder towards Abby, who was still, in her room, engrossed in her drawing. "Listen," he began, his voice dropping into a more serious tone, one that made you instinctively pay closer attention. "My aunt... she's been pushing harder lately. She's still doing her best at making our life a living hell. I wouldn't put it past her to try something drastic."

You frowned, your concern deepening. "What do you mean? Do you think she'd actually do something?"

Mike let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his dark hair, a gesture you'd come to recognize as a sign of his stress. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "But I've got this bad feeling. Just be careful as always, okay? If anything feels off, anything at all, promise me you'll call."

You nodded, doing your best to project confidence. "I will. Don't worry, I'll keep Abby safe."

Mike's expression softened, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over his features.

"Alright," he said, his voice steady but still carrying that undercurrent of worry. He pulled you into a tight embrace, his lips pressing against your hair as he whispered, "I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe."

The door opened with a soft creak, and Mike stepped outside, disappearing into the twilight.

Abby was already in her room, her small frame bent over a large piece of paper, crayons scattered around her like a rainbow explosion. The television murmured softly in the background, playing one of her favorite cartoons, but her attention was fully captured by the world she was creating with her drawings.

As the clock ticked closer to her bedtime, you suggested a quieter activity to help her wind down. You decided on a movie, something light and fun that wouldn't keep her up later with nightmares. She chose one of her favorites, and you settled down on the couch together, the soft glow of the television illuminating the living room.

But as the minutes passed, you started to notice something strange. It was subtle at first-barely noticeable-but it grew more persistent with time.

A faint noise, like the creaking of floorboards, echoed from somewhere in the house. You dismissed it at first, telling yourself it was just the old house settling, but then you heard it again, louder this time.

Your heart skipped a beat as you strained to listen, but the noise stopped as quickly as it had started. You glanced down at Abby, who was completely engrossed in the movie, blissfully unaware of anything out of the ordinary. Not wanting to alarm her, you kept your concerns to yourself.

Then, you heard something else.

footsteps.

They were faint, but distinct, coming from outside the house. You tensed, trying to discern where they were coming from, but they seemed to move too quickly, as if someone was running around the perimeter of the house.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stay calm. "Abby," you said softly, trying to keep your voice steady, "I'm just going to check on something, okay? I'll be right back"

She nodded absently, her eyes still glued to the screen. You gave her a reassuring smile before slipping off the couch and heading toward the front window. The footsteps had stopped, but you still felt uneasy. You moved carefully, peering out the window into the darkness beyond.

At first, you saw nothing, just the faint outline of the trees swaying in the night breeze. But then, out of the corner of your eye, you thought you saw movement. A shadow, darting quickly between the trees. You blinked, trying to focus, but it was gone before you could be sure.

Your heart was pounding now, your grip tightening on the curtain. You leaned closer to the glass, scanning the yard for any sign of life, but the night was still, save for the rustling leaves.

You were just about to pull away when the phone rang, the sudden noise causing you to jump.

You cursed under your breath, feeling foolish for letting your nerves get the better of you, and hurried to answer the phone. "Hello?" you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Hey, it's me," Mike's familiar voice greeted you, instantly soothing some of your anxiety, "Is everything okay?"

You exhaled a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding. "Yeah, everything's fine," you replied, though your voice still held a hint of the tension you'd been feeling. "What about you? How's work?

Mike sighed, the weariness in his voice evident even over the phone. "Boring. Me and the cameras tonight, keeping an eye on everything." He paused for a moment, as if debating whether to continue. "I- I was thinking about you," he added, his tone shifting to something softer, more intimate.

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at his words. "Oh? And what were you thinking?"

There was a brief silence on the other end, and you could almost imagine him fidgeting, trying to find the right words. "Well, I was wondering if, you know, maybe later on, when Abby's asleep, you'd be up for... helping me out a bit? Like you did before I left."

You felt a spark of excitement at the idea. You knew exactly what he meant, and the thought of it made your pulse quicken.

"You mean... like phone sex?" you teased, keeping your voice low so Abby wouldn't overhear.

Mike chuckled softly, and you could hear the relief in his voice. "Yeah.. something like that. Only if you're up for it, of course."

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a grin. "I think I could be convinced," you replied, letting a playful edge slip into your tone. "Though I'm not sure you'll be able to focus on your job afterward."

"Who says I'm focused on it now?" he quipped back, his voice carrying that familiar blend of affection and humor that you loved so much.

You laughed quietly, feeling more at ease now than you had all evening. "Alright, you've got a deal. But I should probably warn you, Abby's still full of energy, so it might be a little while."

"That's okay," Mike said, his voice dropping to a lower, more suggestive tone. "Just thinking about it will keep me going until then."

There was a brief pause, and then Mike spoke again, his voice tinged with affection. "I love you, you know that?"

You felt your heart swell at his words. "I love you too, Mike. I'll see you soon."

You hung up the phone, feeling both relieved and anxious. The house was quiet again, but the sense of unease hadn't entirely dissipated. You quickly went around, double-checking that everything was locked, before returning to the living room where Abby was still watching her movie.

She looked up at you with a smile and you forced a smile back, trying to appear calm.

You couldn't help but glance at the window again, half-expecting to see a shadowy figure standing there.

But there was nothing. Just the dark, quiet night outside.

Eventually, Abby yawned, her small hand rubbing at her eyes. You glanced at the clock, realizing it was getting close to her bedtime.

"Alright, little artist," you said with a playful smile, gently taking the crayon from her hand. "I think it's time to start winding down."

You helped her gather up the crayons and paper, placing them neatly on the table for her to continue tomorrow. Then, you guided her to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her small hand warm in yours as you led her through the bedtime routine.

Once Abby was ready for bed, you tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin as she snuggled into her pillow.

"Are you okay, Abby?" you asked softly, wanting to make sure she wasn't picking up on any of the tension you were feeling.

She nodded sleepily, a small smile on her lips. "I'm okay. I like when you're here," she said, her eyes earnest as she looked up at you.

She snuggled deeper into the blankets, her eyes never leaving yours. "Because Mike smiles more.”

The statement caught you slightly off guard, but you smiled gently, curious about what she meant. "He does? What do you mean, Abby?"

Abby nodded earnestly, her face serious as she explained. "He doesn't smile a lot, you know. But when you're here, he does. Sometimes it's just a little one, like he's trying to hide it. But I can see it."

"He talks about you a lot too," Abby continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if she was sharing a secret. "Like when we're having breakfast or when he's helping me with my homework. He misses you when you're at college," Abby added, her brow furrowing slightly as she recalled something else.

"He gets grumpy sometimes when you're not here. He doesn't say it. He doesn't laugh as much, and he's more quiet."

You reached out and gently squeezed her hand, feeling an overwhelming sense of love for both her and Mike. "Thank you for telling me that, Abby. It means a lot to hear that. Sweet dreams, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured, already drifting off as her eyes fluttered shut.

You stayed there for a moment, watching her breathe softly, her small chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. There was something so peaceful, so innocent about her in that moment, and it only made you more determined to protect her, to keep her safe no matter what.

Finally, you quietly slip out of the room and close the door behind you.

The hallway was dim, the only light coming from the faint glow of the lamp in the living room.

You made your way back to the couch, intending to relax for a bit, maybe read a book or watch something lighthearted to take your mind off things.

But as you settled onto the couch, you couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had been growing since Mike left. It wasn't anything specific, just a gnawing feeling in the back of your mind, like something wasn't quite right.

You tried to push it away, focusing on the book you'd brought with you, but the words seemed to blur together, your mind too distracted to make sense of them.

After a few minutes, you gave up, setting the book aside and leaning back against the cushions with a sigh. And that's when you noticed it. A flicker of movement outside the window, just at the edge of your vision.

You froze, your heart skipping a beat as your eyes darted to the window. For a moment, there was nothing, just the reflection of the room in the glass.

But then you saw it again, a shadow passing by, quick and almost imperceptible.

You stood up slowly, moving towards the window with cautious steps, trying to convince yourself that it was nothing, maybe just a trick of the light or an animal passing by.

But as you reached the window and peered out into the darkness, you saw it again this time, clearer.

A figure, moving through the shadows, too close to the house to be anyone just passing by.

Your heart began to race, your pulse pounding in your ears as you tried to make sense of what you were seeing.

You backed away from the window, moving quickly but quietly through the house to check the locks on the doors. The front door was secure, as was the back door, but the uneasy feeling in your chest only grew stronger.

You returned to the living room, trying to decide what to do next. Should you call Mike? The police? You didn't want to overreact, but the thought of someone lurking outside the house, especially with Abby asleep in the next room, was enough to make your blood run cold.

And then, as if to confirm your worst fears, you heard a faint scratching sound, like something sharp scraping against wood.

It was coming from the back door.

Panic surged through you, your hands trembling as you fumbled for the phone.

You quickly dialed the number of the eerie place Mike was working in, your heart racing as the phone rang in your ear.

"Hey, is everything okay?"

"There's someone outside," you whispered, your voice shaking with fear. "I think they're trying to get in."

There was a brief pause on the other end, followed by a soft curse. ""I’ll call the police and then head over. Don't open the door for anyone except me, okay? I'm on my way.” Mike instructed, his voice firm despite the worry you could hear.

You hung up, your mind racing as you quickly moved towards Abby's room. The scratching at the back door grew louder, more insistent, but you forced yourself to focus on getting Abby to safety.

"Abby, sweetheart, wake up," you whispered urgently as you shook her gently. She stirred, blinking sleepily up at you.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"We're going to play a game," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that was threatening to overwhelm you. "We're going to hide, and you have to be really, really quiet, okay?"

She nodded, her wide eyes staring up at you, filled with trust. Her innocence made your heart ache, but you pushed that feeling down, focusing on the task at hand. You gently move towards her "secret fort."

You helped her crawl inside, making sure she was comfortable and well-hidden under layers of blankets. The space was cramped, barely big enough for her small frame, but you knew it was the safest place for her. You reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, giving her a reassuring smile even though your insides were twisting with fear.

"Stay here, Abby," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "No matter what happens, stay here until I come back for you. Don't make a sound, okay?"

Abby nodded, her lips pressed into a tight line as she did her best to be brave. "I'll be really quiet," she whispered back, her voice trembling slightly.

You smiled at her, trying to mask the fear you felt, and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Good girl," you said softly, your heart breaking as you closed the fort, hiding her from view.

You stood there for a moment, your hand resting on the top of the dresser, as the reality of the situation began to sink in. The house was too quiet now, the silence pressing in on you from all sides. You could feel your pulse in your throat, your heart hammering against your ribcage as you strained to hear any sound that might give away the intruder's location.

You knew you couldn't stay in Abby's room, it was too risky. If the intruder found you, there was a chance he would discover Abby, and you couldn't let that happen.

He seemed to know how to move in this situations, locking her room from the inside would just trap you in it.

You had to draw him away from her, give her as much of a chance as possible to stay hidden.

With every muscle in your body tensed, you quietly slipped out of Abby's room and moved toward the hallway. The shadows seemed to shift and dance around you, the darkness feeling thicker, more oppressive than before. You paused at the door, listening intently.

The scratching had stopped, replaced by the sound of footsteps moving through the house.

He was inside.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body tense as you listened.

The footsteps were getting closer, each one sending a fresh wave of fear crashing over you.

Your breath caught in your throat as you tried to decide what to do.

You moved quietly but quickly down the hallway, each step measured and precise. You didn't dare make a sound. The house now felt like a trap, each corner a potential hiding place for the intruder. You reached Mike's bedroom door and slipped inside, closing it gently behind you.

Mike's room was dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon filtering through the thin curtains.

You pressed your back against the wall beside the door, your breath shallow and rapid. You could hear the intruder's footsteps growing louder, closer. The sound sent a chill down your spine. Your mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, but every idea seemed more desperate and hopeless than the last.

And then the footsteps stopped, just outside Abby's room.

Your heart lurched in your chest, your breath catching as you realized the intruder was inside Abby's room. You clenched your fists, your nails digging into your palms as you searched for any possible thing to hit the man.

You knew you had to stay hidden,but when you heard the faint rustling sounds coming from Abby's room, your heart sank. You peered through the small crack in the door, barely daring to breathe as you saw the intruder crouching down beside Abby's bed, carefully placing something under it. The glint of metal caught your eye. A knife, long and sharp, was placed there deliberately.

Your blood ran cold as you realized what he was doing.

He was planting evidence.

Trying to make it look like Mike was keeping dangerous items where a child could find them. He wasn't just trying to scare you, he was trying to destroy Mike.

The intruder moved with an unsettling calmness, methodically working through the room as if he had all the time in the world. He opened Abby's dresser and placed something inside, something small and white that you couldn't quite make out.

Pills, likely. Perhaps the prescription Mike had mentioned in passing, the ones he rarely touched now but kept for nights when the insomnia got too bad.

Anger flared in your chest, hot and consuming, as you watched the intruder desecrate Abby's room, turning it into a scene of fabricated neglect.

How could someone do this?

How could they be so heartless, so cruel?

You leaned forward slightly, your eyes darting to where Abby was hidden, ensuring she was well-concealed. As your foot stepped down on the floor, it creaked loudly, shattering the silence.

His covered head snapped up instantly, and your eyes locked for a heartbeat before you jerked your head back inside the room.

The sound of his footsteps grew louder, each one faster and more urgent than the last, echoing ominously through the hallway.

Panic surged through you. There was nothing here, nothing even remotely close to a weapon. He was getting closer.

The door creaked as it was slowly opened, the movements of the man careful and deliberate. You pressed yourself against the wall, trying to make yourself as small as possible.

But it was too late.

His eyes swept the room, and in the dim light, they locked onto you.

For a heartbeat, time stood still. Your eyes met the intruder’s, and in that instant, you saw the raw terror flicker in his gaze as he realized he was caught. The silence was shattered as he lunged at you, his movements frantic and desperate. His hands, cold and clammy, reached out to stifle your scream.

The force of his attack sent you crashing on the floor, your head slamming into the floor with a sickening thud. Pain exploded in your skull, your vision blurring as you tried to fight back, your hands pushing at him, your nails clawing at his arms in a desperate attempt to break free.

His hands found your throat, squeezing with a terrifying intensity, cutting off your air.

You gasped, your lungs burning as you struggled to breathe, but his grip only tightened.

The world around you began to spin, the edges of your vision darkening as your strength started to fade.

You fought with everything you had, your survival instinct kicking in as you tried to pry his hands off your neck, but it was no use. He was nearly double your size, his weight blocking you down on the floor, his strength overwhelming.

Your vision tunneled, and the last thing you saw before the darkness claimed you was the cold, unfeeling eyes of the intruder. Your hands fell limp, your body going still as the fight drained out of you.

The pressure on your throat increased, and then...

nothing.

A loud crack echoed in the room, followed by a muffled scream of pain.

The intruder convulsed violently as a muffled scream of pain erupted from behind his mask. He stumbled backward, away from your lifeless form, writhing on the floor as the electrical current tore through him.

Mike stood in the doorway, his face twisted with fury. He held the taser that Vanessa had given him for protection after Abby was taken at Freddy's, and he was already moving towards the intruder, who was writhing on the floor, his screams of agony muffled by the mask he wore.

He lunged forward, pushing the intruder back on the floor with his body as he tried to get back up. His fists rained down on the intruder’s face with ferocity, each punch fueled by a combination of fear, anger, and desperation.

His grunts filled the room, each one punctuating the brutal force of his blows. There was no mercy in his movements, only the desperate need to protect, to punish.

The intruder's attempts to fight back grew weaker with each passing second, his body limp and barely responsive under Mike's relentless assault. His fists were driven by something primal, something that transcended reason or logic.

The world had taken too much from him already, and he refused to let it take any more.

Time seemed to stretch on forever as Mike continued his brutal assault, his rage all consuming.

But then, as if from a great distance, something cut through the fog of his anger. A small, almost imperceptible movement, a gentle touch on his shoulder. His body tensed, but he hesitated for just a fraction of a second. The rhythm of his punches faltered, the force behind them weakening as a different kind of awareness began to seep into his mind.

Mike's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving with exertion. His fists hovered above the broken, bloodied form of the intruder, shaking with the effort it took to hold back.

His vision was blurred, the world around him slowly coming back into focus. The room was a mess, blood staining the floor and the walls, and there, just within his line of sight, was you watching him, your eyes filled with something he couldn't quite place.

Mike turned to you, his hands trembling as they reached out to touch your face, as if to make sure you were really there, really okay.

"I thought... I thought I lost you," he said, his voice thick with emotion. Without another word, he pulled you into a deep, desperate hug, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe.

You wrapped your arms around him, clinging to him as the adrenaline slowly faded.

Mike buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "you’re okay... you’re okay...”

Mike pulled back just enough to look at you, his gaze searching your face as if needing to see for himself that you were really there, that you were really okay. His hands gently cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to your cheeks.

His eyes flicked to the bruises on your neck.

"I'm okay," you reassured him, though the pain in your throat made it hard to speak.

"I love you," Mike murmured into your hair, his voice filled with a tenderness that made your heart ache

"I love you too," you whispered back, feeling a sense of peace wash over you despite everything that had happened.

After a few moments, Mike reluctantly let go, his gaze shifting to the unconscious intruder on the floor. The man was still breathing, though barely, his chest rising and falling in shallow, labored breaths.

You moved back to the fort where Abby was still hidden, her small form curled up under the blankets you hide her in. Gently, you knelt down beside her. She was asleep, her breathing soft and steady, unaware of the terror that had unfolded just outside her door. You carefully scooped her up into your arms, holding her close as you carried her out of the room.

Once the intruder was tied up and secure, Mike returned to you, his expression softening he saw you with Abby and he reached out, brushing a hand gently over her hair. "She's okay?" he asked quietly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, smiling softly. "She slept through the whole thing. She doesn't know."

Mike let out a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as some of the tension drained from him. "Good," he murmured. "That's good."

The sound of approaching sirens filled the air, growing louder as they neared the house.

The authorities arrived quickly and the intruder was taken away. He soon confessed to being someone hired by Mike's aunt in a desperate attempt to discredit him.

The police officer's words felt distant as you replayed the night's events in your mind. It was only when you felt Mike's hand squeeze yours that you were pulled back to the present.

"Let's get you checked out," Mike said softly, concern still evident in his voice as he led you to the waiting ambulance.

You nodded, exhaustion finally catching up to you as you allowed him to guide you outside. The cool night air hit your face, a stark contrast to the warmth of Mike's hand holding yours.

The paramedics were gentle as they checked you over, their hands moving carefully as they assessed the bruises on your neck and the minor injuries you'd sustained during the struggle. Mike stayed by your side the entire time, his presence a comforting anchor in the chaos of the night.

When they were finished, Mike helped you into the back of the ambulance, where you sat together, the silence between you filled with a thousand unspoken words. You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you, holding you close.

His grip on you tightened, as if the very thought of what could have happened was too much to bear. "I couldn't lose you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not you, not Abby. You both mean everything to me."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to gently touch his face, your thumb brushing against the stubble on his cheek. "We're okay, Mike," you said softly, your voice filled with a quiet strength. "We're safe. And we'll get through this together."

If you liked this story please leave a comment, I love reading them <3.

[lucasandlily]

Rui x Reader who is really affectionate, but can't touch him because of The Curse.

A/N: I'm alive!! Rui my beautiful beautiful tragic boy. I've actually been having a lot of brainrot for this game, particularly an isekai AU that made me contemplate making RP blog (I love you guys btw. This is probably my first fandom where they're so active, I've been really well connected with this fandom somehow and it's so fun!!), so I figured I might as well be writing it down now. This is an idea I've had spinning in my head for a while, so it's VERY self-indulgent/insert, but enjoy!! AO3 link here

Rui's POV. Second-person pronoun "You" is used. Angst! But also fluff!! (825 words)

You’ve always been an affectionate little thing. It’s something Rui finds adorable about you, staying optimistic despite all that looms over you, not letting any of the ghouls he KNOWS can be more than a little much sometimes destroy your positive attitude. It’s as if you decided to be the light in a place that literally has dark in its name, and he lov admires you for that.

He can’t help but feel the bitter green of envy though, when he watches you ruffle Lyca’s hair after he whines at you for treating him like a dog. 

He pointedly turns away from the look Ed gives him over your head when you relax into his chest after he leans over your shoulder.  

He just laughs along at your drunken antics when you nuzzle into Haru’s hand, somehow even more touchy when your cheeks are flushed with alcohol. 

He tries not to remember the flash of hurt, confusion, the first time he’d backed away from your hand when all you wanted to do was give him a pat for a job well done. He doesn’t know if it hurt more when your face morphed into regretful understanding, or when you apologised and told him you’d try not to do it again. 

Rui tells himself it’s for the better when he notices you’ve been avoiding him for the past week. He’d have done the same to you anyway, if he realised his feelings were starting to fester. He tries to not let it get to him when he hears you enter the Obscuary mansion, only to quickly patter up the stairs without stopping by the bar first, as you would have done previously. 

Maybe before, he would have made it a little competition to see who could mess up the other’s hair more. He’d watched you run your fingers through Lyca’s after you’d tousled it out of place, anyway. Maybe in another life, you’d gently hold his face as you showered him with kisses. He’d do the same to you anyway, if he wasn’t forced to keep his hands to himself. 

If he didn’t notice you hold your hand back every time you saw his mask slip. If he didn’t see your hand stop short before pulling it back to tell him he had a bit of hair out of place. 

It’s all just part of the cursed life, he tells himself. He should be getting used to it by now, he sighs as he walks down the hall over to his room. 

Behind him, he hears the jingle of the bell you like to wear on your keychain. He turns at the sound of your quick steps approaching. 

“Rui! Ruiruiruiii!!” You call.

“Ah, there you are! Haha, I’m not going anywhere you know~ though I guess I don’t mind being chased?” He teases as you approach. 

You smile up at him brightly, “I have something to show you!” You tell him, he notices now that you have a hand behind your back. 

“Hm? Aw, did you get me a gift? And here I was thinking you were hiding from me!” He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth. Your smile falters a bit as you blink at his confession. 

But before he can backtrack with a “Just kidding!” your smile lightens again, eyes filling with some sort of resolve as you pull out… a glove on a stick? in your other hand.

He doesn’t pull away when he feels the simulation of a hand on his head. He can’t, when you look into his eyes with such unmistakable fondness. The awkward, stilted movements as you try to run the imitation hand through his hair communicates how long you’ve wanted to do this, and the tears that well up in his eyes betray how much he’s needed it. 

He feels the cloth soak up the tears when you move the glove down to hold his face. It feels soft under his skin, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. 

“How long did it take you to make this?” He asks as you let him lace his fingers with your hand extension. He squeezes the plush hand, feeling the soft give before it reaches the stick inside, inspecting where the glove and stick are attached. 

“Um! A week? It took a bit of experimenting to get it to stay on… And they don’t really sell gloves on campus either.” 

Your eyes crinkle when you look at him, the corners of your lips pull up triumphantly when he lets go of the hand to let you pat his head again. 

“You deserve at least this much,” you tell him. “I know it’s not really the same or anything, but I don’t wanna leave you out, y’know?” 

“It was worth it though, if it made you happy.” You look into his eyes as you say this, and he can’t help but believe you.

Reblogs and Comments are appreciated! I love you (⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)⁠✧⁠*⁠。

[kaciidubs]

#LALALALA_Challenge

❣ Summary: Minho really wanted to see stays do the LALALALA challenge, so you decided to take a shot at it too. ❣  ❣ Word Count: 748 ❣ Warnings: Fluff, humor, reader can't dance, supportive bf! Minho, appearance of SoonieDoongieDori ❣  ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Lee Know is referred to as Minho, Min, and Lee Minho, reader is referred to as kitten and darling, barely edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

"Cross, down, cross, down... right- no, left? Left, right, left- up?!"

Groaning softly, you snatched your phone from it's propped position on the TV stand and swiped your thumb across the progress bar, watching the video rewind to the beginning of the tutorial yet again.

Was this your personal hell? Yes.

Were you determined to get this choreography down to impress your dancer boyfriend? Also yes.

You knew the exact moment your fate was sealed for the evening; stumbling across a clip of your boyfriend encouraging thousands of stays to learn the dance and participate in their comeback challenge - and who were you to shy away?

You were a stay, too, which meant you had all the right to attempt the challenge!

Now, if only you didn't have two left feet and the memory of a hamster, then maybe this challenge wouldn't have been so... challenging.

Listening to the extremely familiar song play through your phone again, you watched as the Instagram reel of Minho go on, eyes locked onto every calculated, practiced movement his body made to the rhythm of the song and the mental count of each step.

"Right, left, up-right, left, swing arms down..." A soft meow sounded behind you, the brief interruptions keeping you sane for the past 10 minutes of practicing. "Soonie, you'd think that dating him would give me some magical dance ability, right?"

Another meow, one that sounded oddly sassy, practically telling you that 'We both know that's not how it works'.

"You could've just humored me like Doongie, you know." You mumbled, watching as the clip continued onto the slowed down version of the tutorial, "Okay, let's do this!"

Propping your phone up again, you followed along with his mirrored arm movements, simulating the steps with your upper body as best as you could - you already foolishly attempted the full body test three times, and after nearly twisting your ankle, you decided half your body would suffice.

"Left arm block, chest explode- la, la, la, head nod- la, la, la, la-"

The chorus played out and you sighed heavily, arms sore and your once comfortable t-shirt feeling all too heavy - it had to have been attempt number four, maybe five, and you were finally getting familiar with the normal speed.

"Kitten."

"AH!"

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you spun around to see none other than the same person you were painstakingly following on your phone, watching you with amused eyes and a familiar brown cat nuzzled in his arms.

"Minho?! How long were you watching me?!"

"Long enough to see you miscount the same move three times and counting." He smirked, humor sparkling in his eyes, "You're close though, I'm proud."

Huffing, your crossed your arms over your chest, wincing at the slight strain in your right bicep, "You didn't think to, oh, I don't know, tell me you're home? Maybe even correct me?!"

He gave a few scratches to Dori's head before setting him down on the couch cushion, "I texted you that I was on my way home, you were the one who didn't respond! Plus, you were doing so well, I didn't want to ruin your focus!"

"In other words, you liked watching me mess up."

"It's like watching a child learn that they can move parts of their body in different directions at the same time."

You rolled your eyes, pouting as he pushed himself up from the couch and stride over to you; his hands winding your hips and holding you close.

"I meant it when I said I was proud of you, darling," he cooed, pressing a feather light kiss to your pout, watching your lips turn up slightly. "It doesn't matter if you were the worlds best dancer, or the ace of one step out of the whole song - I saw the effort you were putting into learning it and that's more than enough. I said I wanted to see stays learn and try it, I never said that it had to be perfect."

His soft words melted your heart, your body relaxing in his hold with a soft breath as you blinked up at him with soft eyes. "Can you help me fix where I keep messing up?"

Laughing gently, he nodded, "Of course - next, I'll help you put it together with the steps."

"You have way too much faith in me, Min."

"Or, maybe I want to see you look like a baby deer."

"I love you too, Lee Minho."

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @instabull

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

[pigdemonart]

Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices.  - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too.  - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling.  - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace.  - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together!  - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

[moonrisecoeur]

okay but like imagine a bully leon that's actually so subby when things get real…. like idk what it is but there's really something about guys that look kinda dom on the outside actually being really submissive on the inside… Imagine some kind of high school or even better, college AU where Leon's kind of an asshole to you first semester, and then you scheme with your friends to get revenge … just not the way he expected or smth, maybe at some cliche party you end up one on one with him and after some kind of heated confrontation you make your move, and even though his bully side tries to resist, his subby side pops out and he eventually gets reduced to a begging, sobbing mess. And you just mistreat him so well, he gets all clingy and pathetic by the end of it, all whiny, and you're almost rough with him, getting him so needy and then forcing him to apologize so much and beg, and acknowledge idk something like he was wrong, you're the best, etc, he needs you

I think this would work maybe with RE2 Leon the best, but RE4 leon possibly? There's really just something about RE2 leon being subby and RE2 leon being a really bratty bully type But yeah smth like brat taming with leon or something!! Maybe even spanking if he was that much of an asshole lmaoooo

(sorry if this sent twice i was having issues with tumblr)

this is a wonderful concept and all but be so for real my guy leon could not be a bully. especially re2 and re4. he’s too sweet and gentle to ada in re2 and ashley in re4 to ever truly bully someone.

buuuuuuuuut since u already got this idea so flushed out i might as well add to it!! sorry this isn’t as long as i’d like to to be i couldn’t really think of anything else to add!!

sub!bully!leon x slight mean dom!reader, no pronouns used, afab body parts mentioned.

leon likes your attention and feels like the only way he can get it is to be mean. the first time you both met, you didn’t realize he was trying to talk to you and just walked past him (with like earbuds in and stuff) and he was so heartbroken.

so every time he sees you in class he’ll be rude and abrasive, calling you insulting nicknames and stuff. he kinda likes the face you make when you get mad, the way your eyebrows furrow and your eyes stare sharply at him.

he’s also kinda mean to your friends because to him they’re an extension of you.

at this party, he’s been drinking, not too much because he’s cautious but enough to where he’s not completely sober. you as well.

you both start arguing when he bumps into you and knocks your drink out of your hand. he says a lot of cruel things that make your heart ache slightly. he’s so needlessly mean that you’re getting fed up with taking his shit.

you take a step closer to him, finally willing to do more than stand your ground, but actually fight back, “do you just want me to hate you that damn bad, leon? because you really seem to enjoy pissing me off.”

his body feels weak at your cold tone of voice. he’s suddenly not the evil, monstrous man that made fun of you, embarrassed you, called you names, talked down to you. he tries to keep up his front, but you see it cracking.

“i know you like it,” he says, “like it when i’m mean to you, don’t you? you want me to call you names and make fun of you, kinky bitch.”

you scoff, looking away from him. he couldn’t be more wrong.

“what? you think i’m wrong? prove it to me, prove that you don’t like me like this. show me that you’re worth anything more than being the dirt beneath my—”

“shut the fuck up, leon,” you groan as you come closer to him. it’s what he was afraid of, and god you’re so close to him… he’s worried he might explode from nerves. your hand presses against his chest as you push him away, and then suddenly, you’re up against him, he’s pressed against the wall, and your hand is back on his chest.

“uh, i.. i—” he says.

“what’s wrong? lost the ability to speak?” you ask him rhetorically, smirking, “you did get something right, i am a kinky bitch. just the wrong kind.”

“what?” he asks breathlessly. he looks like he’s about to pass out, face red, hands shaking. you would want to soothe him if he wasn’t such an asshole, “wrong kind?”

your hand on his chest drops to his crotch, groping him over his jeans, and he fucking whimpers. already. you come to the realization that leon kennedy, the bastard who’s been torturing you for months on end, is a fucking sub. good god.

“wait wait wait… hold on… i- what are you doing?”

your smirk grows, your breaths and sighs are satisfied, contented with holding him here, watching him stutter and whimper, “awh, i will admit. you’re much cuter when you’re not using that mouth to be rude. much, much prettier…”

his face is already red, his ears too. he looks messy, fragile, adorable.

“p-please,” his voice breaks, and you know you’ve won.

—

“stupid, stupid boy, thinks he can be mean to me? messed with the wrong girl,” you say, patronizingly soothing as you run your fingers through his hair, his cock buried inside of you as he hides his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder, “you should say sorry, baby, for what you did to me.”

“fuck, i- i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry about what i said to you a- and your friends! i’m sorry!”

you scoff, “no, you know that’s not good enough, try harder. tell me how pathetic and dumb you are.”

he whines, his lips pressing against your neck sweetly as an apology, and as a way out of giving you a real one. he grasps onto your body like you’re his only anchor to stability and sanity.

you try to coax him out of his shyness and get him to tell you all the things you want him to say, “c’mon sweetheart, you gotta tell me. tell me how mean and degrading and cruel you were to me, just to be my stupid, obedient boy after i flipped it on you. the second i was a little mean to you, you completely gave in to me, didn’t you?”

“y-yeah, i… i’m sorry, i know i haven’t been- ah, good for you, but please let me be. give me a chance to be good, please. i can be good.”

you just laugh, clearly annoyed with him, “stupid fucking thing, thinks he can make me forgive him by begging to give him the grace he never gave me. you will have to earn your forgiveness, baby.”

he whines, “can i please fuck you? please? i’ll show you how good i can be, how good i can make you feel, i’ll so whatever you say i promise!!!”

“no, sweetheart, you’re going to sit still. you’re going to cry and weep and sob about how sorry you are, about how much better i am than you, how you don’t deserve me or my pussy, and how badly you need me to treat you like you’re nothing.”

[cantstoptheimagines]

Hunger (Carmy Berzatto | The Bear)

Summary — Things boil over between you and Carmy.

Warnings & Other Tags ➳ Smut (including a lowkey ‘Chef’ kink, Reader being referred to as ‘good girl’, also like one mention of birth control); Carmy mentions never having a girlfriend, so I’m rolling with that (aka Never-Been-Kissed!Virgin!Carmy is upon us!!); a little bit of angst on the side; mentions of childhood trauma and resulting body insecurities (Carmy); cursing (especially the canon-typical ‘Fuck!’); coworkers to lovers with a touch of idiots in love; some typical Original Beef arguments in the kitchen (including Carmy getting put in his place after being extremely mean); Reader accidentally gets burned by hot food; Reader is a waitress with an attitude; my attempts at casual, non-flowery, awkward, quiet conversation between Carmy and the Reader, so please don’t come after me if it sucks, lmao.

Notes ➳ Word Count is 7,942. This is a slow, slow, slow burn! Enjoy it, baby! ➳ Reader uses feminine pronouns (she/her). ➳ This is slightly inspired by the chaos of Season 1, Episode 7. I also want to add that this draft was started before the release of Season 2, so absolutely no spoilers in this one!

FAQ | Masterlist | Fandoms | Requests | Coming Soon | Schedule  

Everything was a complete mess. An expected lunch rush had sent everything and everyone at The Beef into chaos.

You had a line of customers waiting on takeout orders while others were hoping for a table to open up. Some had immediately turned around at the door after seeing the crowd.

Richie stood behind the counter, trying his best to keep up. He gave you a nod as you cleared another table. The fake, ‘customer service’ smile on your face fell as soon as you left the dining room and entered the kitchen. Angel and Manny were both instantly by your side, taking the dishes from your arms. 

Your sigh of relief, however, didn’t last long. As soon as you turned, you were met by Sydney, who shoved a dish at you, shouting, “Hands! Once that’s out, I need you to come back for a sandwich and a salad!”

You barely caught the plate, replying, “Heard!” 

The plate was warm against your hands. The food, however, was burning hot when it flew off the dish and onto your exposed skin as someone interrupted your cry of, “Corner—!”

The plate shattered once it hit the floor, covering the tile in a mess of food. Sauce dripped down your clothes and practically seared your flesh. Amidst the hectic kitchen, only Sydney seemed to notice. She stared at you with a shocked expression as tears welled up in your eyes from the pain.

“—fucking going?!”

You blinked, clutching your blistering hand. You could already feel your skin becoming overly tender. Tears began to slide down your cheeks. Nearby, Tina had paused to see what the commotion was about with concerned eyes.

In front of you stood Carmy. Out of everyone who worked at The Beef, he was the person you were closest to. However, that didn’t mean he wasn’t an asshole sometimes, especially when the restaurant was busy like today.

Your eyebrows furrowed, and then you quietly asked, “What?”

The flaring pain you were feeling made it almost impossible to focus on what anyone was saying or doing. Carmy’s words, on the other hand, were loud and clear as he took a step closer and shouted, “I asked if you can watch where you’re fucking going?!” 

Your cheeks were wet with tears, which you couldn’t stop from falling, no matter how hard you blinked. Carmy was toe-to-toe with you. He was so close that you could see the sweat on his skin and the red flush of his cheeks. His teeth were gritted as he stared at you with fiery eyes. 

“Carmy,” you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment, “don’t yell at me.”

He came even closer, shoes nearly slipping on the sauce that covered the tile. You avoided meeting his gaze as you continued holding your injured hand. Thankfully, the other one wasn’t as bad, though it still ached. 

“Why the fuck not, huh?!” he continued. “Open your damn eyes next time—!”

“Carmy, stop!” you demanded. “I’m hurting right now and you’re not helping—!”

“Maybe you wouldn’t be if you used your fucking brain!” he snapped, taking two fingers and harshly tapping them against your temple.

You tried to take a step back, only for him to follow. You pressed your lips together in an effort to contain yourself. Sure, you were used to Carmy’s regular outbursts, but this was on a whole other level.

His nose brushed against yours with how close he was standing. Sydney reached out, placing an arm between the two of you, though it wasn’t much help. Tina was slowly coming closer. Everyone else in the kitchen had stopped working to cautiously watch the scene. Even Richie had paused service in the front to stand in the kitchen doorway, ready to step in if he needed to.

“Don’t fucking talk to me like that, Carmy—!”

“I’ll do whatever I fucking want—!”

Richie finally spoke up, “Hey, cousin, leave ‘er alone, alright—?”

“I’m gonna fuck you up if don’t get outta my face—!”

Sydney was beginning to sweat, “Chef! Please calm down—!”

“If you can’t handle the heat, stay out of my fucking kitchen—!”

SLAP!

“¡Ay, mierda!” exclaimed Tina, mouth agape as your uninjured hand suddenly struck Carmy’s cheek.

The silence that took over was almost deadly. Carmy licked his lips and clenched his jaw. His cheek was already turning bright red with your handprint. A million thoughts ran through his mind as he stared at you.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to me,” you glared, “then don’t fucking talk, Carmen! You can fuck off instead!”

Carmy kissed his teeth, refusing to open his mouth. Instead, he watched as you whipped around and stormed away from him. You were once again holding your injured hand, in which the pain was only growing worse by the second, as you disappeared around a corner without looking back.

Carmy closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face. He didn’t even need to look at the expressions of his coworkers’ faces to know that he had fucked up big time.

His eyes met Sydney’s as he tugged at his thick hair. She, however, only turned away and returned to calling out orders after shaking her head. Richie, meanwhile, gave him the finger before going back to the front to continue lunch service. Everyone else in the kitchen either gave him harsh glares or stares of disappointment.

“Chef!” he called out, gaining Sydney’s attention. “I’ll be back in a few!”

Sydney slowly nodded, “Heard!” 

Carmy glanced down, looking at the mess that covered the kitchen tile, along with his work shoes. Pieces of the shattered plate were spread about as well.

“I’ll clean this up when I get back,” he said, gesturing to the floor.

“Heard!” repeated Sydney, though Carmy could tell she wished he would just leave already.

“Thank you, Chef,” he muttered.

As he passed by Marcus, the usually kind pastry chef glared at him, “You’re a real mess, Berzatto.”

Carmy sighed, slowly making his way around the same corner you disappeared behind only moments ago, “Tell me about it.”

Ebra shouted after him with a bark of laughter, “We don’t have to! You’re gonna find out when you go back there!”

Carmy rolled his eyes, turning the knob on the door that led to the back lot. That was where everyone, including you, disappeared whenever they needed to be alone.

He immediately spotted you sitting on the ground with the restaurant’s first aid kit in front of you. The injury on your hand was now covered with some burn relief gel.

You barely even glanced in his direction when the door closed behind him. The air outside was rather cold and Carmy could see the chills that covered your skin.

He nervously wrapped his hands in the hem of his apron, and then cleared his throat, “I’m sorry.” 

“Whatever,” you shook your head.

He paused, unsure of what he should say next as he blinked a few times. Finally, he licked his lips and stared down at his shoes, “Are you—uh—are you okay? I mean, you’re good?”

You scoffed quietly, shaking your head with a sardonic smile as you finished wrapping your injury with some gauze, “No, Carmy, I’m not good. Fucking asshole.”

Carmy took a deep breath, nodding slowly, “Yeah, yeah, alright. I deserve that. You—uh—gonna go early? Home, I mean? Go home early?”

You slammed the first aid kit closed, the latch snapping into place with a click! Standing up, you shoved it into Carmy’s arms, causing him to grunt at the impact against his chest. 

“Yes,” you said, “I’m going fucking home early.” 

He groaned as you pushed past him to go back inside. He slowly trailed behind you, watching you collect your coat and keys. He grimaced at the loud SLAM! of your employee locker. He knew everyone in the kitchen secretly had their ears open, each of them trying to figure out how badly Carmy had messed things up with you.

As you tried to slip past him once more, he reached out to place an arm across your front. He remained facing the empty room of employee lockers while you were facing the kitchen, forced to endure the cautious eyes of your coworkers.

With a sigh, you finally turned your gaze to him, unsure of what to make of his actions, “What?”

“Go to the doctor, alright?” he muttered, eyes gliding over your features.

Everything was much calmer now. Everyone in the kitchen seemed to have finally cleared out some of the crowd, leaving only a few stragglers. Each of them took an occasional glance at the two of you.

You bit your bottom lip. You couldn’t help but be fully aware of the way Carmy’s startling blue eyes suddenly dropped to focus on your mouth. And you definitely couldn’t stop your own gaze from doing the same, admiring the soft pink shade of his lips.

Maybe it was wrong to be so attracted to your boss. But when your boss was Carmy, you didn’t really care. And there were times, like now, when it felt as though he didn’t care either.

Sure, he could be a real asshole sometimes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t easy on the eyes. Your eyes, more specifically.

“Yo, cousin, we’ve got—! Oh!”

Carmy finally tore his stare away from you, and said, “Just a sec, Richie.”

“Yeah,” nodded Richie, tossing his hands into the air. “Yeah, sure. Didn’t mean to interrupt... whatever this is.”

Carmy rolled his eyes before finally returning his attention to you. His stare softened and his fingers dug into the clothing that covered your hip with a gentle squeeze.

“Doctor,” he whispered, “‘kay?”

You finally muttered, “Okay, Bear.”

Carmy gave you a nod, heart pounding when he heard his nickname fall from your lips. Your hip received a few pats and a gentle rub before his arm disappeared from your path. As you walked away, he finally turned to face everyone in the kitchen, all of whom had their eyes on him.

“Well,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “get back to fucking work!”

At the same time, he could hear you ordering Richie, who had followed you to the front, to ‘shut his fucking mouth’.

You unlocked the back entrance of The Beef. It was way past closing time and each of your coworkers had already gone home. In fact, you had only come back to get the tips you had left behind after your argument and semi-reconciliation with Carmy.

You flicked on one set of smaller lights before making your way through the kitchen and into the front room. Richie always cashed out your tips for you before his shift over and tonight was no different. On the counter, right next to the register, you found a wad of cash and a sticky note with your name on it.

Unfortunately, you were too focused on counting out the money to notice someone appear in the doorway. That is, until they spoke, “Hey.”

You gasped in surprise, clutching at your chest in a failed attempt to stop your pounding heart, “Fuck! Are you trying to kill me?!”

Carmy smiled down at his feet as he leaned against the kitchen’s door frame. He watched you shove your tips into the pocket of your heavy coat. He nodded towards your hand, and asked, “Rent due?”

You nodded back, “Yeah. Tomorrow morning.”

He hummed quietly, “See a doctor?”

“Yeah,” you replied. “Gave me some stuff to put on it. They said it should be good in a week or two. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” 

“Right,” he said, twisting the hem of his apron around his hands.

He watched your eyes drift to where his fingers wrapped themselves in the blue fabric. The realization that the two of you were alone, without the stress of your loud coworkers or a line of customers, overwhelmed him.

“You do that a lot, ya know,” you said, gesturing to his hands, “when you’re nervous and stuff.”

He shuffled awkwardly, shook his head, and then shrugged, “Hard not to be. We cool?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. One of Carmy’s hands rose to his lips, allowing him to anxiously bite his nails, while the other disappeared into his pocket. The soft glow coming from the back of the kitchen made him look like an angel.

A tired, fidgety, nervous wreck of an angel.

It was hard for him to breathe when you suddenly moved closer and closer until you stood mere inches away from him. He stared at your hand that untucked itself from your coat pocket. Yet, it wasn’t until you gently wrapped your fingers around his forearm, tugging his hand away from his nail-biting habit, that he knew it was over for him. 

“Carmy?”

Fuck.

“Yeah?”

His mind flashed back to all the times Richie had caught him staring at you and made fun of him for doing so.

And how after Sydney had first met you, she turned to him after you had walked away and quietly asked if you were his girlfriend.

And the way Tina almost beat his ass earlier for shouting at you so viciously after everyone else had left for the night, leaving him to wallow alone in his office.

Or the way he couldn’t stop his eyes from drifting to your lips while your hand gently rubbed his arm, listening closely as you whispered, “We’re cool.” 

“Good,” he muttered.

Your lips parted with a soft, shuddering gasp. Slowly, Carmy had tilted his head and began leaning in. Your grip on him tightened just as his free hand untucked itself from his pocket. His palm slid under your coat and landed on the same hip he had held earlier that day.

His nose brushed against yours. His fingers dug into you, splayed out against your clothed waist. His eyes slowly fell shut as did yours. After that, it didn’t take long before your lips met his.

You could feel the warmth of his cheeks when you placed your palms against them. You pulled him closer until you could wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, intertwining your fingers in his hair.

Carmy’s lips moved against yours tentatively. His other hand slowly slipped beneath your coat to caress your back. He groaned at the feeling of you gently scratching his scalp as your fingers ran through his hair.

Slowly, he pulled away, but only slightly. Your hands dropped to his shoulders and then traveled along his strong arms before finally wrapping around his waist. His apron loosened when you tugged at the strings.

Carmy felt his cheeks warm as he allowed you to remove the blue fabric from his body. He watched it fall to the floor and then made an effort to copy your movements, gently pushing your coat off your shoulders before letting it join his apron.

He sighed softly when you pressed your lips against his in a series of short, gentle kisses, “I’ve—uh—I’ve never…”

He trailed off quietly, feeling slightly embarrassed. Richie had always given him shit for being a virgin. But Carmy had gone through life without friends, let alone girlfriends.

“Carmy?”

His lip quivered when his eyes met yours again. He was surprised to find your gaze void of judgment. Instead, you gave him a small smile and gently pressed your hands into his lower back. He hummed quietly when you repeated his name.

Glancing at his lips, you murmured, “Do you want to?”

Despite the millions of thoughts running through his mind, he was still very clear, albeit quiet, with his answer, “With you? Yeah.”

You nodded silently. One of your hands gently pushed some of his thick, messy hair behind his ear. His eyes fell closed at the feeling.

“Was that your first kiss?”

“You gonna laugh at me if it was?” he asked.

You smiled at the way his cheeks flushed with red, and replied, “‘Course not. It’s like that for lots of people.”

He licked his lips, opening his eyes. His fingertips went deeper into your hips. Fuck, you were being so nice to him.

“It was,” he confessed. “That was my first kiss. I’ve never done any of it. Dates, girlfriends, none of it.”

“Okay,” you said, still allowing your fingers to trace through his hair. “You still want to?”

He paused, eyes exploring your features, “Yeah.”

“We can stop any time you want,” you said. “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” 

Carmy licked his lips again, hooded eyes drifting to your mouth. Slowly, he nodded and pressed his forehead against yours. His eyes closed and your noses brushed. He could his heart pounding in his chest, briefly wondering if you could as well as he collided his lips with yours once again. 

His fingers delved deeper into your hips. Your hands, meanwhile, tugged at his thick hair, forcing a grunt out of him. He was surprised by how much he liked the feeling. 

Pulling away, though not far enough to avoid the kisses that were now being pressed onto his jaw, Carmy quietly gasped for air, head tilting back as he asked, “Can we go to my office?”

He felt you nod against him in response. He then tugged you along in the direction of his office, biting his lip at the feeling of your mouth on his warm skin. He turned the two of you so that he could see where he was going. Not that doing so was much help since his eyes began fluttering at the feeling of a gentle bite sinking into the flesh of his neck.

One of his hands left your hip momentarily. His palm gripped at one of the metal counters in the kitchen, barely steadying himself. He was nearly tripping over his own feet, distracted by the pleasure you were already sending throughout his body. 

His hand quickly left the countertop. It found a new place on the back of your neck, but only after the two of you finally made it into his office, where he immediately pulled you into another kiss.

Slowly, your hands disappeared from his hair, opting to slip beneath the fabric of his shirt and gently scratch his back instead. You smiled against his lips, nearly breaking the kiss, upon noticing him shiver at the feeling. He practically arched into you, both of his hands moving to your cheeks in order to deepen the kiss.

His white shirt complimented the golden chain around his neck. It was something you had seen him wear plenty of times. And for Carmy, he wasn’t sure if he wanted that to change just yet.

He paused when you began to slide his shirt up, obviously preparing to remove it from his body. He gently wrapped his hands around your forearms to stop you. His lips then moved away from yours. His head ducked as he cleared his throat, avoiding your concerned gaze. 

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, eyes beginning to burn. “I’m—uh—It’s just—I don’t—I don’t think—! Shit, I’m sorry! Sorry! Sorry—!” 

“Hey, hey, hey,” you interrupted, gently wiping away any tears that had started to make an appearance on his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re okay, Carmy.” 

He sniffled, cheeks warming with embarrassment, upon having felt your hands withdraw from underneath his shirt. His breathing had quickened, along with his heartbeat.

Carmy hid his face against your neck when one of your arms wrapped around him. You softly rubbed the space between his shoulders. Your other hand gently stroked the back of his head, fingers running through his hair once more. Meanwhile, his hands had dropped to your ribs in an effort to steady himself again. 

“We can stop—”

He interrupted you within seconds, shaking his head as he finally met your eyes, “No. I don’t want to. I—uh—I’m just—my childhood wasn’t the best, ya know? Parents were always fightin’ over stupid shit. And sometimes, my dad—well, he—uh—he’d take some of it out on us—”

“Oh, Carmy,” you whispered, leaning your forehead against his.

He continued, caressing your ribs with his thumbs, “He didn’t do it a lot, but, ya know, my back’s kinda, like, got scars and stuff.”

Pulling him closer, you nodded, still allowing him to lead the conversation, “Okay. Okay.” 

“I promise I wanna do this,” he sniffled again before taking a deep sigh, “but I wanna keep my shirt on. For now anyway. For this time.” 

You nodded again, giving him a small smile and lightly tracing the variety of small freckles on his cheeks, “Of course. Anything you want.”

Carmy hesitantly met your eyes. The startling ocean blue sent chills down your spine, especially when he muttered, “God, you’re so fucking sweet.” 

He didn’t give you a chance to reply. Instead, his hands traveled to your back and pushed you against him in a quick, unwavering motion. He groaned at the feeling of your fingertips imprinting themselves into the fabric of his shirt. His lips moved against yours in yet another heated kiss, though this one was much more desperate than the others had been. 

In that moment, as your hands wandered along his clothed back, venturing to the waistband of his pants, Carmy could picture himself falling in love with you.

In the space between your kisses, gasps of air escaped your throat, “Let me make you feel good, Bear.”

Carmy nodded. His lower back gently collided with the edge of his desk. He watched as you slowly undid his pants. He groaned and his cheeks flushed red at the sight of you lowering to your knees. One of his hands shifted to grip his desk while the other raked through his hair.

Before he knew it, his pants were pooling around his ankles and his hard-on was showing prominently through his briefs. His head tilted back and his gaze met the ceiling as your fingers delved into the waistband of the fabric covering his throbbing cock.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered, closing his eyes.

“Carmy?” your quiet voice cut through the tension. “You still okay?”

“I’m fucking perfect,” he whispered. “Please keep going.”

Your amusement was obvious. Carmy hissed when your smiling lips met the flesh of his stomach. He slightly tugged up the hem of his shirt in order to give you more access to his briefs, trying to prepare himself for his first blowjob ever.

The hand that had been in his hair quickly entangled itself in your own. His briefs were slowly being removed with every kiss you gave his skin, your movements trailing lower and lower with every passing second. You stopped at the last possible moment, pulling away and giving a final tug at his briefs.

At last, they fell, finding their place around Carmy’s ankles, alongside his pants. He couldn’t help but watch as his cock sprang free, nearly slapping against his stomach. You eyed it for a moment, licking your lips at the sight of the dark vein on the side and the way it curved slightly to the left. 

Carmy took your pause for negativity. His thumb softly caressed your temple as he murmured, “You alright—? Oh, shit!”

He was suddenly on cloud nine. Fire burned in his chest. Both of his hands moved to tightly grip the back of your neck. One of your hands grasped onto his tense forearm while the other held his cock. Your tongue traced over the vein that you had been admiring. 

His eyes closed and his head tilted back. He could feel you smiling as you pressed a kiss against his cock’s mushroom-shaped head. Your lips trailed along his length until you reached his balls. 

“Fuck!” he groaned, mouth falling open.

The way your tongue lapped at his balls while your hand stroked his swollen length set his stomach on fire. He could feel a layer of sweat beginning to appear on his forehead.

You were a fucking god. And Carmy felt ready to worship you.

Suddenly, you were at the head of his cock again, slowly taking him into your warm mouth. Carmy looked down to watch it happen and nearly came at the sight of you.

Your lips stretched around him. His hands moved to be on either side of your face, gently caressing your temples with the pads of his thumbs. Both of your palms wrapped around his bare thighs.

Carmy hissed at the feeling of his cock disappearing into your mouth as you began bobbing your head along his length. Though when he felt you fondle his balls with a sudden squeeze, he couldn’t stop an abrupt buck of his hips. 

You gagged when the head of his cock hit the back of your throat. He furrowed his eyebrows, concerned, as you pulled away, gasping for air. He wiped away the saliva that had built up at the corners of your lips, “Shit! You okay? I didn’t—I didn’t mean to do that!” 

You sniffed, laughing as you brushed off the small tears that came from your eyes, “Yeah, I’m good.” 

Unsure of what to say, Carmy nodded silently. He continued tracing your temples in an effort to comfort you, trying to ignore his cock, which continued to throb between his legs. Meanwhile, you rubbed at his thighs, still trying to catch your breath. 

“Hey, hey,” he muttered, tilting your head upwards to meet his gaze, “you sure you’re alright?” 

Your eyebrows rose, your fingertips dug into his flesh, and then you smiled, “I’m fine. But Carm?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re fucking huge.” 

And in yet another wave of shyness, Carmy couldn’t stop the blush that appeared on his face. You chuckled, leaning forward to kiss the space above his pelvis, slowly wrapping a hand around his cock once more. Your eyes remained on him as his lips fell open and moans escaped his chest.

“Hey?” you muttered. 

He watched as you leaned against his stomach, resting your chin atop the fabric of his shirt to stare up at him. He shivered at the way your pupils grew. They nearly overtook your irises, leaving only a sliver of their nature shade. 

“Yeah?”

Your teeth dug into your lower lip. Carmy admired the glow that had overwhelmed your skin. He shuddered when your hand tugged particularly hard at his cock.

“Can you fuck my face, Chef?” you whispered. “I want your cock down my throat ‘til I can’t breathe.” 

“Fuck,” he muttered, thumbs softly caressing your cheeks. “You sure? I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I want you to feel good, Carmy.” 

He hissed at the sudden feeling of your tongue once again tracing over his length. The head of his cock was then repeatedly kissed in a soothing pattern. One of his hands moved to tightly grip the edge of his desk. The other continued smoothing over the skin of your cheek as you took him back into your mouth.

With a hand on his thigh and the other shifting to wrap around his forearm, you slowly dragged his hand to the back of your neck. Carmy panted heavily at the feeling of his hard cock sinking deeper into your throat. He successfully held back his quivering hips, not wanting to accidentally choke you a second time. 

His fingers dug into your skin, his mouth fell open, and heat rose beneath his skin. He looked down to find you with nearly his entire cock in your mouth. The sensation of your tongue swirling around him made him want to cum on the spot. And he nearly did so when your lips finally met the base of his cock. 

Your nose dug into his pelvis. He then felt the mushroom-shaped head of his cock reach the back of your throat, only you didn’t pull away for a fresh burst of air this time. He caressed the back of your neck in an effort to ease the tension. 

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, soaking your eyelashes. You were doing your best to breathe through your nose. His grip on you tightened when your eyes suddenly looked up at him.

The sight of you staring at him with tear-filled eyes and your lips stretched around his cock made him curse. Both hands quickly returned to your face so he could brush away the glistening tears. After admiring your flushed appearance, he muttered, “You ready?” 

He took the moan you let out around his length as confirmation. The vibrations of it, along with the way your fingers were now tightly grasping at the backs of his thighs in preparation, made him hiss with pleasure. 

He groaned at the wet sounds of your mouth as he began gently thrusting in and out of your throat. He cursed repeatedly, especially when you continued to moan around him. Upon seeing you shut your eyes, however, he patted your cheek to bring your focus back to him.

He smiled down at you when you met his gaze, “Eyes on me, alright? You’re makin’ me feel so—ah!—good right now. Oh, fuck! You’re fucking amazing, ya know that? Oh!” 

Heat was growing in the pit of your stomach when you realized how much pleasure you were giving him. You could feel yourself becoming wetter and wetter by the second. 

You couldn’t help but gag around him when he suddenly gave a rough thrust. You were sure his thighs would have finger-shaped bruises by the end of the night with how strong your grip on him was. 

Carmy’s thrusts were picking up pace. He tossed his head back, eyes shut tight and his mouth agape with silent moans. You wanted him to fuck your face? Then he would do exactly that. 

He repeatedly shoved you down to the base of his cock. With every thrust of his hips, he felt his balls slap against you. The sounds of you practically gasping for air as you choked on his length made him shiver with a blissful expression.

“Fuck!” he groaned. “So fucking good! You’re perfect, ya know?”

His moans continued. The echoes of his cock pumping in and out of your mouth caused warmth to slowly build up within the pit of his stomach. With a few final thrusts, he pressed himself as deep as he could into your throat.

You choked around the sudden release of cum that flooded your mouth. Your eyes squeezed shut as Carmy pressed you further onto his length. Your nose dug into the skin of his pelvis and you were slowly losing the ability to breathe.

Carmy grunted, now gazing down at you with heavily lidded eyes, as his cock released thick, white ropes of his cum. He huffed in an effort to regain his breath. You, however, made that difficult with each and every time you swallowed around him, taking in all of his cum without a second thought. 

His cock was still hard when you finally pulled away. Your tongue ran over the tip while one of your hands moved to stroke his length. Before you could send him tumbling into overstimulation, Carmy tugged you upwards. 

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, barely able to keep hold of you between heavy pants. You could practically feel his confidence finally starting to bloom within him. 

Twirling in order to switch your positions, you tugged him closer, urging him to help you onto his messy desk. He quickly did so after reaching out to shove aside what seemed like a million unorganized papers. They fell to the floor, some even crumpling beneath his shoes as he stepped on them. 

His large, tattooed hands slipped beneath your shirt as he moaned at the feeling of your lips against his neck. He grasped onto the back of your bra and tugged... to no avail. Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice. 

His face flushed red, especially when your clothed thighs squeezed closer to his hips. His cock began to throb as it met the covered space between your legs, desperate and eager for what was to come. 

Carmy furrowed his eyebrows and tried a second time to unclasp your bra. When it refused to budge, he couldn’t help but curse. And he nearly let out another when your affections came to a pause. 

Your kisses slowed. Pressing one against his ear, you whispered, “You okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied. 

You tried not to laugh when you felt another tug, “Carm? D’you need help?” 

He cursed a little louder. You bit down on your bottom lip, trying to conceal a grin as you tucked your face into the crevice of his shoulder. When he confirmed your suspicions, you leaned away and did your best to give him a warm, comforting smile. You unhooked your bra and removed it from beneath your shirt with ease, tossing it aside. 

Carmy’s expression shifted into one of frustration, though his eyes shined with a bit of awe, “How the fuck did you do that?” 

Your hands ran over his shoulders as you asked, “Really wanna have that conversation right now?” 

He paused for a moment, seemingly taking some time to think over your words, “Fuck no.” 

You allowed yourself to laugh that time, “Then come here.” 

Carmy found it difficult to breathe when you tugged him closer. The scent of your shampoo fogged his mind as he hid your face against your neck. Your hands guided his, leading them beneath your shirt. He let out a deep sigh when his palms met the warmth of your skin. 

As his hands began tentatively exploring your breasts, he tried to ease his nerves by layering a series of open-mouthed kisses against the column of your throat. Meanwhile, you busied yourself with undoing your pants. 

“You have big hands, Carm,” you muttered, leaning your cheek against his messy head of hair as he indulged him in his affections. 

Big, warm, tattooed hands. His thumbs ran over your nipples occasionally as he gently squeezed you. His fingers dug into the plush of your skin. 

Despite having little room with the way Carmy was leaning against you, you managed to push your pants off your waist, shifting your hips in order to do so. As he continued palming at your breasts, he flushed a deeper shade of red, thankful his face was still hidden from your view. 

“Is that a good thing?” he questioned. “Big hands?” 

He felt you nod in response, “It’s hot.” 

In more ways than one, he believed, due to the heat building up in his stomach. His forehead had developed a thin layer of sweat as well. He followed your lead when you directed his hands to your hips instead. When his fingertips met the hem of your underwear, he inhaled sharply. 

“Think you can get these off without any help?” 

He stopped pressing warm kisses against your neck to meet your gaze. With narrowed eyes, he tilted his head at your teasing tone, licking his lips with an amused grin, “Shut up. What happened to the nice, sweet, good girl from before?” 

Holy shit. 

His comment made you pause. Your semi-arrogant smile fell, becoming one of shyness instead. Carmy’s, on the other hand, brightened. He had somehow managed to turn the tables. Seems like it was your turn to be embarrassed. 

He ran his hands over your thighs, gently pulling you closer. He continued to smile as you avoided his gaze. 

“Hey,” he muttered, placing a hand on your cheek and encouraging your eyes to meet his, “d’you like it when I call you that?” 

His smile was softer now. His body language, however, was giving off a newfound confidence, something you didn’t get to see very often. But with the way he caressed your skin, palms rubbing you soothingly in a steady pattern, you could tell he genuinely wanted to know. 

He furrowed his eyebrows when you offered a mumbled reply, “Hmm?” 

With shivers running along your spine and an affirming nod, you repeated yourself, “I do. Yes.”

“Yes, who?” he asked, cursing himself only seconds later for the question.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking a deep breath in surprise. Your eyes fell to his lips, thinking about feeling them on yours again. Carmy watched you carefully when they did so. His cock throbbed heavily between his legs as the head gently bumped against your clothed entrance with every move he made. 

You met his eyes again when his fingers delved into the flesh of your thigh. Admiring his blown pupils, you answered, “Yes, Chef.” 

Both of his hands came to your hips. His fingers sunk into the hem of your underwear as he whispered, “Can I?” 

He slowly slid the fabric down your legs when you gave him a whispered confirmation. Wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you pulled him closer. His lips hovered over yours with a groan as your free hand wrapped around his cock.

“Are you sure?” 

Carmy’s eyes, which had been squeezed shut, slowly fluttered open. They flew over your features before he finally nodded, “Yeah.” 

Your lips met his in a soft kiss before your forehead came to rest against his. With your hand gently stroking his length, Carmy couldn’t stop himself from letting out a gasp. He looked down to watch your movements with desperate, hooded eyes. 

You ran the mushroom head through your wet folds. Carmy would’ve been embarrassed by his fascination at the way his cock glistened with your wetness if he wasn’t too busy groaning in pleasure. 

“Gotta go slow, okay? I’ll have to adjust,” you said, and then a quiet laugh filled the air between the two of you. “Like I told you, you’re big.”  

Carmy was sure his skin was cherry red by now, due to a combination of the growing heat in his stomach and your compliments. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows furrowed when your hand eased the head of his cock into your entrance. He couldn’t stop his fingers dug into your skin, creating indents on your thighs. 

Arms encasing your lower back, he pressed himself closer, furthering the reach of his cock. His chest met yours, both of your shirts rubbing against the other. He could both see and feel your hardened nipples through the fabric. 

Your hand that had been guiding him moved upwards, threading through his thick, unruly hair. He didn’t even need to move for you to start letting out a series of gasping moans. The sheer size of him was enough. 

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you nudged him as close as you could. His warmth melted into yours. His skin was aglow with heat, effort, and sweat. His length sinks deeper, stretching you wide and open for him. You hiss at the feeling. 

Oh, yeah. He’s definitely the biggest you’ve ever had. 

You kiss the bridge of his nose as you adjust to his size. Carmy quickly raises his head so his lips can meet yours. It’s a struggle, given how difficult it is for either of you to properly breathe at the moment. 

Carmy’s cheeks are flushed red entirely. He’s burning on the inside with a newfound desperation for you. His cock throbs inside your walls and he feels as though he’s being drowned in your body by the pressure. Meanwhile, you can hardly focus on anything besides the noises he continuously lets out. 

He hisses and groans with every shift, not expecting the feeling to be so tight. You’re dripping with so much arousal that it’s nearly soaking his pelvis and thighs. As his hands traveled under the fabric of your shirt to practically claw at your back, he can’t help but think about how the feeling of you around him is infinitely better than that of his own fist. 

In that moment, Carmy knew you had ruined him for anyone else. He was completely, without any doubt in his mind, yours. And fucking proud of it too. 

“You can move,” you whispered, strengthening your grip around his shoulders and tugging at his hair. 

One of his arms curled further around you. His palm landed between your shoulder blades, slowly gliding over your skin that was hidden beneath your shirt. The other wrapped around your lower back. 

His cheek leaned against yours as he gasped heavily into your ear after the first roll of his hips. Your hand continued to pull at his dark strands of hair, the other tangling itself in his shirt. 

Slowly, he rocked into you, the pace starting off easy and unhurried. Given his size, you could already feel the head of Carmy’s cock gently bumping against your cervix. You gasped heavily with each of his movements. Your body writhed against him. 

“Faster,” you muttered. “Carmy, go faster. Oh, fuck, please.” 

Carmy melted at the way your moans echoed throughout his office. He huffed repeatedly with effort as his thrusts steadily increased. The slapping of skin, along with the slick sounds of your wet entrance, filled the room. Carmy couldn’t help but curse when your teeth suddenly sunk into the crevice of his neck. 

“Shit!” he exclaimed. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Could stay inside you forever! Damn it! Wanna stay, wanna stay!”  

Your mind felt empty of anything besides Carmy. His warm breath hitting your skin as he rambled on and on. The way he clawed at you desperately, trying to bring you impossibly closer. How his balls were repeatedly slapping against your dripping arousal. 

“Carmy!” you whined, trying your best to redirect his grip on you, which was rather difficult due to his lightning pace. “Here! Touch me here! Make me cum! Make me let go on your cock! Oh, shit, you’re—ah!” 

You guided his fingers against your clit. Despite his state of pleasured delirium, Carmy seemed to understand what you wanted from him. He massaged the bundle of nerves, sending shockwaves down your spine. 

The tightly wound cord within you finally snaps. You cry out, gripping onto Carmy in order to gain at least some sense of stability. He continues to rut in and out of you like no tomorrow.

The only inclination that he knows you’ve finally cum is the pitchy moan he lets out when your walls constrict his cock with every wave of release. His hand is covered in your cum and he can’t stop himself from pulling his face out of hiding.

With one arm still around you and his hips still slapping loudly, he’s quite the vision when he suddenly brings his fingers to his mouth. It’s then, as he gets a taste of you, that he decides you’re his new favorite meal. In just one night, you’ve made him insatiable.

His hand goes for another round, trying to collect more of your wetness on his fingertips. Meanwhile, you’re beginning to collapse into overstimulation. You take to pressing your forehead against Carmy’s shoulder, panting and huffing as his throbbing length continues to delve deep into your dripping hole. 

Carmy’s trying his best to take in every bit of you that he can, repeatedly collecting your release to press against his tongue as he pounds into you. He rubs at your clit with reckless abandon, craving more of the taste. 

“Please, please,” he begged, distressed at the very idea that you might not cum again. “Wanna keep tasting you! You’re so fucking good!” 

He’s unaware that your moans are no longer coherent. The only thing that continues to tumble from your lips is the sound of your uncontrollable gasps for air and an occasional curse.

Given it was his first time, you hadn’t expected him to have so much stamina. His thrusts seemed impossibly fast, pistoning in and out of you at lightning speed without a second thought. 

Sinking against him, another orgasm washed over you as your mouth fell open in a silent scream. Carmy groaned at the feeling of your walls tightening around his cock, “Fuck, I can’t—! I’m gonna cum! I’m gonna cum, fuck, oh—!” 

His entire lower half rolls into you. He can feel crescents forming in his skin with how deep your nails are digging into him. He thrusts again, once, twice, and then a third time before he’s spilling into you. His cum seeps out around his cock, forming a white ring at the base. 

Despite hardly being able to breathe, he pulls you into a kiss. His lips move against yours in gentle movements. It’s a stark contrast to the way he had been pounding into you only seconds ago. His length is beginning to soften inside you, which you’re slightly grateful for. You weren’t entirely sure you’d make it through another round of that. 

“Are you okay?” he muttered, lips haphazardly meeting yours as his cock leaves you. “Shit, I didn’t mean to cum inside. I’m sorry.” 

You shook your head, “I’m on birth control. And I can get a morning-after pill.” 

He nods in response and then his eyebrows scrunch up. You almost laugh, wanting nothing more than to smooth out the ridges between them. Your hands glide over the fabric of his shirt, tracing over his chest absentmindedly. 

Pressing another kiss against his jaw, you ask him just to make sure, “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hands slipping beneath your shirt in order to rub your back. “It’s just—uh—I don’t know, it’s stupid—”

“I’m sure it’s not,” you interrupted, not wanting him to lose the confidence you had seen in him only minutes prior. “What is it? You can tell me anything.” 

His eyes quickly darted to the side. Although they only did so for a split second, you still noticed. Following the direction of his glance, your gaze lands on your discarded bra.

Carmy lets out a quiet curse as he zips up his pants, realizing that he had been caught. He ignores your smirk while he pulls you off his desk and helps you do the same. Even though helping you put your clothes back on is something no one else had ever done for you after sex before, you knew it was at least partially meant to distract you from your new revelation.

You quickly decide, however, that you can’t help yourself. With a smile, you quietly say his name in an effort to bring his attention back to you. 

“Hmm?” he muttered, trying to ignore the way your hands trace gently over his shoulders while he rebuttons your pants. 

You slowly tilt his head, leaving him with no choice but to meet your eyes. You repeat his name in a sing-song voice, “Carmy!” 

He grasped your hands in his and pulled them away from his face. He quickly distracts himself by playing with your fingers. After a moment, he sighed before looking at you with softened eyes. 

“Can you teach me the bra thing now?” 

Your face brightens with an amused laugh. Carmy instantly groans in embarrassment, throwing his head back and swatting gently at your backside with a muttered, “Stop that! I told you it was fucking dumb!” 

“No, no,” you shook your head, still chuckling as he rolled his eyes. “Pass it here, Berzatto. Then you can keep it as a homework assignment.” 

He muttered a curse under his breath, which only made you fall into another fit of laughter. He then picked your bra up from the floor and handed it over. With an arm on either side of your hips, he rests his palms on his desk that sat behind you. All his weight leans onto them and you can’t help but smile at how close he is while he stares intently at your hands, waiting for you to begin your lesson.

[sharkboywrites]

Hi! Can you pls write halsin and astarion (Gale too if u can) with a trans male (transitioned) who feels insecure about appearing too feminine and thinking about cutting his long hair cause he thinks they’re too feminine? Sorry this just my insecurities. This morning I cut my hair and gold I wish I hadn’t cause I loved my hair but ppls told me they were girly so.. yeah. Regrets. Sorry about the mini rant. So Uhm would love if u could write so,è comfort, no worries if u can’t! Thx for being a mlm writer and love that u started writing for bg3! Have a lovely day!

Halsin, Astarion, and Gale with a Dysphoric FTM S/O

A/N: Took me about two years but I'm finally trying to get back to writing after falling down shitposting hell, yaay. So sorry to hear about your problems with hair (and also that it took me so long to get to it :/), hair can be a really complicated thing when you're trans and even though I cut mine as short as possible I still end up feeling too feminine most of the time. sorry that these are kinda short, I'm easing myself back into writing after a while of not writing at all, even personal works, after a family emergency.

Ftm reader, male reader, he/him pronouns used, heavy themes of dysphoria

Halsin

Halsin makes his morals clear, that things should be as nature intended it

This includes things like hair, and that hair growing out is a natural thing whether you're a man or woman

Obviously he's okay with hair cutting, his would be much longer if he hadn't, but he also supports the idea of letting your hair grow out, letting nature choose it's path, his hair is still near his shoulders after all

So when you come to him about your worries of your hair being "too feminine" he's very adamant that this is a normal thing

He assures you that hair is natural, and that people can have any length and it will not affect who they are as a person

Whatever you decided, cutting your hair or keeping it long, he will continue to assure you that no matter what hair length you have, you are still a man and the man he loves

Just know that Halsin loves you no matter what, you are a man and he will do everything in his power to make sure you know that

Astarion

Like Halsin, Astarion is really doesn't think much about hair length and it equating to gender

Astarion had met plenty of men in his life, many of which having long hair, some even long enough to go all the way down their legs to their ankles

And yet these men were still just that, men

Some quite masculine still, and not any less attractive to him

When you come to him with your troubles, he's immediately going to try and help you

He'll help you style your hair to find a way that you like it

He'll tie it all up, tie only certain parts of it up, twist it and braid it, until you find something that you like

Every time you find a style you like, because of course he'll keep going until you find multiple you're comfortable with, he'll tease you about how silly you were for thinking having long hair made you feminine

I mean, look at this man

His hair is short, but it's stylish, he takes good care of it, and he'll for sure know how to make it so that you'll like this

He'll make you feel as masculine as possible while playing with your hair, making sure you know just how loved yu are, as you are, a man

Gale

Gale himself has longer hair

Obviously it's not very long, about a bit longer than his shoulders, but he's confident about it most times

When he does get insecure about it, it's not because he doesn't feel masculine, it's because of his general insecurities with himself

So when you open up to him about your issues, he's not exactly sure how to help

He'd never considered that this could be a reason someone would be insecure

He encourages you to keep your hair long, although he's not very good at comforting you

He may try to mess around with your hair like Astarion, and he doesn't do as well, but he does well enough

You find a few styles that make you feel better and he promises to do his best to try and make it right every morning just for you

If you do want to cut it off, he won't stop you, even supervising to make sure you don't mess it up too bad

If you regret it later, he'll hold you close in an attempt to comfort you

Again, he's not great at comforting, but at this point he's also more comfortable and it does the trick

Before or after cutting your hair, he may use astral projection to try and make you feel better about your physical appearance if you really want it

Gale may not be the best in these situation, but he tries his hardest to do what's best for you and what you want, comforting you all the way through

Wooo I'm back to writing, ty for reading and have a nice day!

[defectivefanboy]

Howl J. Pendragon x Gn!Reader

this is pure self indulgence. No I am not apologizing. No I am not sorry and yes I am a glutton for punishment.

Overall Notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and I don't mind female readers on my blog, I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer fuck off????????????????? ew.

C/W: Angst no comfort. Howl being a low-key asshole, and a man whore. Self deprecation.

Notes: I have been rewatching this movie like a psychopath

Steps to loving a fool...

People will tell you all the ways they fell for a fool and how they loved a fool.

How they whisked them away off their feet with such carefree nature.

But they also recall how it hurt to let them go at the end.

They always say a bird does not belong in a cage

Because there are many steps to loving a fool, but there are only a few key steps you need to keep in mind.

While the enjoyment and wonder of it is exciting at first a person can only take so much before they finally collapse in on themselves like a star.

Step 1: A fool is as free as the wind.

For as long as you could remember he's always moved as if he was the wind himself.

Maybe it was because he could fly and walk? on air

Being with him was like you were floating

God, to be above the clouds with him once again

To feel as free as he does every day of his life

But you've never seen him settle down, even within his own home.

Always adding a new room, or waking up in a new place with new doors.

That amazement you feel when you hear the click of the door and then the new location or sight before you

Oh is that a new book? What does that trinket do?

The fascinated look on his face always captured your attention more then the trinket did most days

His magic never failed to excite you, only brought you more wonder in what he was capable off

Every time he came through the door he always brought something new

Always something new, something that brought change within the castle

Something was always changing.

Step 2: A fool changes like the seasons

Never get too comfortable and never get used to anything.

As cozy as the house was, he was changing it to how he liked at that moment.

It would become a maze of new rooms and halls.

All the more room for him to make a mess.

Sometimes even a new explosion, opening a new window in the castle.

Yet, you can never develop a habit. Can never maintain a routine

Never able to get a schedule down

Never able to understand what he was doing

Never able to even assume what he's doing

Never able to assume you know what he's thinking.

It's only a matter of time before he changes his interest.

Last month it was simple Science

Today? making a plant into a horse

Tomorrow? Only he knows.

Markl, while a good kid, was on the back burner of the wizards mind sometimes

maybe even a lot of the times, but he always made it up to him with long lessons and studies with the boy.

Guess you weren't even on his mind now a days

You can't blame him though

it's not like you had an altitude for magic or anything.

You didn't have any knowledge from a great beyond

You honestly should've known

The first few months were bliss was him

then it became every few days, every few weeks... every few months... every few y-

Step 3: A fool is never shackled down

When was the last time you made a proper friend?

Calcifer and Markl were both a lovely chat.

But, you could only talk about so much within an ever moving home.

Sure, you've made a few acquaintanceships, but never more than that.

You didn't have enough time to make friends anyways

Didn't stay long ever to keep them either

You would leave town as fast as you came in.

Appearing one night then disappearing the next.

And the excitement of it disappeared just as quick.

Realization only hit quicker.

Watching fling after fling after fling after fling after-

What was it that made them different?

Maybe thats why he's always running away

Being around too long would make too much of an attachment

That means commitment

It means it's no longer just him

A fool carries their own burdens, they don't need the burdens of other as well

He already has his own worries

what made you think he would care for yours?

At first he was attentive, the soft grazing touches he gave felt as if he was treating you as fragile glass

Any force and you would shatter

When did you shatter?

Do you remember when you did?

Did he even realize that you did?

Step 4: A fool won't listen to anyone, but themselves

The house was a mess

Covered in waste from failed potions and experiments.

Molded food and trash everywhere, no matter how much it got cleaned

You had told him that witch wasn't good news

You said she was hiding something from him. From everyone.

Everyone could see he was gonna end up hurt

Yet, you were the wrong one

He's was in love couldn't you see

You wanted this to happen, didn't you?

For him to settle down?

You always said to slow down

Why was it an issue now?

If you don't like it why do you care about it?

You shouldn't be here anymore then

"Why do you always incise on being a nuisance?!"

You have over stayed your welcome.

Silence lingered in the room

The ever so witty fire demon was at a lost for words even

All he could do was watch as you turned away from him and walked to your room.

He watched the ground as you walked away and slammed the door.

He was about to let out a sigh before a second slam followed again.

This time a few steps away

"porthaven door..."

He watched the door in surprise, the dial clicking into place.

sighing finally he turned to the stairs

"Calcifer, warm up a bath"

Step 5: A fool only learns after they have lost themselves

He was sure you would be back the next morning

You always came back, even when he was clearly in the wrong

Even when he would spew hateful words at you for the littlest of thing

You always came back

But when morning came, the castle was as still as it was left the night before.

He realized it’s gone too far

The soft cracks in the glass finally broke

that prideful wizard finally began to break

ode to the boy who shallowed a star in exchange for his heart…

who had lost the only thing that filled the space…

[always-andromeda]

Can you write an Adam Warlock x GN! Reader Smut fic? You can write it however you want...I'm just desperate for non fem smut fics of adam

– ⭒ 𝐈𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 ⭒ –

𝐀𝐝𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐱 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ▹ 1,283

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ▹ Being friends with benefits messes with Adam's head far more than either of you are willing to let on.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ▹ I don't think I've ever done gn!reader smut? So I'm really hoping that I did this justice for you, anon!! This little concept popped into my head randomly because I can so easily see Adam falling into this kind of situation. Also, I am so sorry my writing has been so sporadic lately </3 I’ve been having various health struggles for the last month and haven’t been super cognizant lmao.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 ▹ smut (minors, please do not interact), reader's appearance, pronouns, and genitals aren't specified, thigh riding, general heavy petting, little bits of friends with benefits angst, kind of implied dom!reader and sub!Adam (if you squint), nothing else I can think of!!

No matter how many times you and Adam end up like this, he still finds himself questioning what exactly is going on. Your lips move so fast and he's just trying to keep up; trying not to let on just how long he's been craving the taste. Which has basically been since the last time you kissed him about a week prior.

It'd been after the team's last mission went particularly well. Quickly – and without any of the other Guardians seeing – you'd placed a chaste kiss on his lips and commended him for his performance. It was so fast and your tone had been so matter-of-fact that Adam had second guessed it had even happened to begin with. It wouldn't be too surprising if he started fantasizing about you.

Unfortunately for him, that was just you and your mixed messages. One minute you were all business and the next you were like this: keeping him anchored in place with a hand on his cheek as you took his breath away.

He supposes he can’t blame you. It made sense, wanting to keep a relationship like this hidden from the others. Though he wasn’t particularly well versed on the sensibilities of those around him, he could imagine this not being a good look for either of you.

And though he may not care what the others thought of him, you seemed to care. And that was enough to mean something to him too.

"You gonna touch me?" you rasp hurriedly.

Yes. Every single time it was a resounding yes. Even if his mind was telling him that he was in too deep, he couldn't help but dig himself deeper. He hates himself for it, but secretly he hopes that at some point he'll find more than the physical contact you provide. Maybe someday he'll hit some underground bunker and that you'd be gracious enough to let him in.

So he nods vigorously, his verbal agreement reduced to a hum as he captures your lips with his once more.

He's still inexperienced and, God, he hopes that you can at least tell that he's trying to learn. For example, he's gotten better at letting you take control. The first few times his hubris had gotten the better of him, making the encounter feel more like a power struggle than a release of stress. Now, he lets you set the pace; lets you figure out right where you want to be.

And right now you want him pressed up against the wall of the ship. You want his leg between yours. And you want to feel his chest heaving as you grind down on him in the secluded and quiet darkness of the hangar.

As soon as Adam pulls back long enough to meet your eyes, he catches the glint of want in them. Then he watches how your gaze sweeps downward. Right to his strong thigh.

You're both grateful that Adam's such a quick learner because he catches the hint before you have a chance to get impatient. With his back against the wall, Adam half expects it to crumble behind him as the scene before him unfurls.

His hands on your lower back keep you steady against his rigid torso. You're so close that he has no choice but to look in your eyes once more. They're half lidded and dark, already almost fucked out despite the fact that you've only just begun to grind against his thigh.

Adam holds you closer, increasing the pressure that comes with each brush of your hips. And pride floods his chest cavity when you groan deeply.

You let out a staggered little laugh, "Fuck, you're so good at this, Adam."

"Only as good as you've taught me to be," he quips with a tinge of tenderness. After all, there's something special to being so tuned into your body like this. He wouldn't trade that mastery for anything. The sentiment comes through tenfold when he nuzzles his nose against yours.

Briefly, his forehead touches yours. You feel the slight chill of the smooth golden gem that's right between his prominent brow. And it becomes all too apparent to you once more who he is; what he is. The chances that this means anything more to him are very little. What could one touch-starved mortal mean to a golden, god-like being?

You merely roll your eyes and dip your head against his chest, hiding from both his soft expression and the impending wave of pleasure that both threaten to knock you off your feet.

Truth told, with your body all over his, all Adam feels is the warmth. There's your hot breath as you work yourself closer and closer towards the edge. Then there's the pulsing heat between your legs that makes him painfully hard. That combined with the cramped confines of the hangar has him picturing you both discard your stifling jumpsuits.

His wishful thinking is interrupted by a groan that gets caught in your throat. "Ah, fuck, I'm so close–" you pant.

Before you know it, one of his hands snakes around the nape of your neck, cradling your head as it lolls back. Then his lips are on the side of your throat, kissing and nipping at the flesh as it trembles from the vibrations from your hums of pleasure. You can't help but wonder if he's somehow trying to absorb your sounds. Either way, the action makes you acutely aware of his strength once more.

If you didn't know any better, you'd fully believe that every part of him was built for this.

But you do know better.

Adam pulls back to chuckle, "I can't wait until we get back home."

And there's where the guilt starts to set in. Like clockwork, it inevitably hits. Whenever he talks so eagerly, you can't help but feel that giant pit in your stomach.

You try to match his energy with a hesitant smile. "What, being down here isn't enough for you?"

"Of course not," Adam furrows his brow teasingly. "Maybe we could have a night to ourselves when we get back."

The cavernous pit grows. You can practically feel your soul shriveling away as you mutter, "Maybe we should lay low for a while. Don't want the others to get any ideas."

Don't want either of us getting ideas too, you want to say.

The way the light fades from his eyes makes you feel worse. But he agrees. He says a small, "You're probably right," and you wish more than anything that you were wrong.

You don't care if the others catch on. Something else about this intimacy bothered you. Because if there was anything that being with the Guardians had taught you, it was that no matter how important love was...things would always happen.

You thought back to Peter and how lost he was when the team had lost Gamora. As much as he'd hated to admit it, that love and loss had changed him so thoroughly that the idea of it happening to you was terrifying.

Adam may not have been the child of a genocidal warlord. But he was still the child of an unstoppable master race of superhuman beings. And no matter how normal things may feel, especially being with him like this, you could never kid yourself into believing it could ever actually be normal.

So you offer him a halfhearted apology. You push yourself off his chest and shakily regain your own balance before returning to the upper decks. Most importantly, you don't look back. And you hope that sends your message sufficiently. That he stops wanting this. Because you doubt you could stop wanting him on your own.

[broshot]

part 1 of dilf armin, this is part 2 cw/tw: nsfw (kinda public sex?), kissing, praising, you and armin have a child, afab!reader but they/them pronouns used, kinda subby armin but also not, pet names (love), jealousy?? but armin loves you and only you, check end for more notes♡

♡♡♡

you're at the kindergarten for a parents meeting, and armin had pulled you into a bathroom with him. you all had a small break before you'd continue with the meeting.

"armin, we're going to get caught," you whisper to him as he grinds his clothed crotch against you.

"we won't get caught. please touch me." he whines impatiently.

as much as you want to make him go back with you and avoid the chances of getting caught, you can't resist him when he's this needy.

and you don't want to miss an opportunity to get back at the mom's, as childish as it sounds.

"do you have a condom?" you ask him and he nods. "of course I do."

"just make sure not to be too loud, we can't let them know what we're doing or we'll get kicked out." you smirk at him.

♡♡♡

you can feel his hot breath against your neck as pushes himself inside of you. he's sitting on the surface next to the sink and you're sitting on his lap.

he lets out a soft moan but he quickly kisses your neck to make him stay quiet. you put your hand on the back of his head to pull him closer.

"can I move yet?" he asks. you had to get used to his size even though you've had sex with him countless of times.

"yeah," you whisper and he does just that; grabbing your thighs and thrusting his hips upwards.

you hide your face in the crook of his neck, softly pressing one kiss after another on his neck.

"I wore a nice shaded lipstick today," you mumble. "you look better with it on your neck."

he whimpers against your ear, moving one hand from your thighs to the back of your head. "you.." his sentence gets cut off when he lets out a soft moan, "you feel so good."

you suddenly hear noises coming from the hallway that's behind the bathroom door so you place your hand on his mouth.

"armin, love, be quiet. we can't let anyone hear us." you whisper to him and he nods, trying not to let any whimpers out.

as soon as you're both sure there's no people in the hallway anymore, he starts speeding up. he thrusts his hips faster and faster, ramming hard into you. but he's still being so soft, making sure not to bruise you with his hands as he holds you in place.

his hand is messing your hair up but you don't mind. his hair is messy too, not to mention the countless lipstick marks you made on his neck.

the wet sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as he fucks into you even faster, making you moan against his ear. you're surprised that no one has heard you with how loud you are.

he's going deeper and harder with every thrust. "I'm so close, so close," he whines and releases not long after. he's still in his orgasm high but he quickly moves a hand to your clit, rubbing on it. with this and the feeling of him inside of you, you come to your orgasm as well.

"woah," he breathes out, resting his forehead against you. he gives you a quick kiss on the lips before sliding himself out of you. he holds your hand as he searches for some tissues. it doesn't take him long to find a few and he helps you clean yourself up with them. he takes his condom off, wrapping it in one of the tissues and throwing it into the trash.

you watch as he moves around the bathroom, cleaning up all the evidence of what you two just did.

he suddenly turns to look at you with a smile on his face. "I think I'll keep these," he points at the lipstick stains on his neck. "got to let the others know who I belong to, yeah?"

you let out a laugh, sliding off the bathroom counter. "yeah, sure mr. arlert. where are my pants?"

"they're right here." he says and hands them to you.

♡♡♡

you two walk to the meeting room which is almost empty. there's only a few people in the room, one of them being kenny's mom and one being zaylin's mom.

"the meeting is going to start in 15 minutes." he whispers to you as you both step into the room. the two mom's turn around to greet armin as they hear his voice, but they freeze in place as soon as they see you two.

"oh lord," kenny's mom gasps as he looks at armin's neck. his neck doesn't look bad, really. there's not many stains visible now that he put his suit back on, but they couldn't be mistaken of the few that they could see.

they turn to look at you, visibly annoyed. they look at your hair which is a bit messy, and they also notice how faint your lipstick looks.

"where were you ten minutes ago? we were trying to find you before this meeting so we could talk about... the kids." kenny's mom smiles at armin.

"I was with my beautiful spouse," he says, not even sparing a glance at her. you smile to yourself as you two sit down.

"thank you for coming here today, guardians of the kids." the meeting starts.

♡♡♡

"do you think they did it here?" you hear zaylin's mom whisper to kenny's mom and two other mom's.

"obviously, their hair wouldn't be so messy if they did it before they came here. and mr. arlert wouldn't have those stains on his neck."

kenny's mom rolls her eyes and sighs loudly. "I don't get why he chose them."

armin turns to look at kenny's mom as he hears the statement. "I chose them because I love them. what more reasons should there be? respectfully, keep your nose out of other people's business." he says and turns back to you.

"I love you. I'll treat you well tonight, make sure to look forward to it." he whispers to you.

♡♡♡

(because I said this in the part 1 post: kinda thinking about making a part 2 to this where they do the dirty in a bathroom at the kindergarten parents meeting tbh, I wanna teach the moms a lesson (they wouldn't get caught but they'd definitely know what happened when they see your messy hair and all the lipstick marks on his neck!)

sorry for bad writing btw, english isn't my first language!!

MASTERLIST

[agerefandom]

A Good Omens S2 Review

Hello everyone! I lied and watched the new season of Good Omens and because I have thoughts on it, I thought I'd write a little review. This is from the perspective of someone who was a book fan for over a decade before the show came out, so it is quite critical of the show, so please keep that in mind! I expect that it's much more enjoyable for folks who didn't spend so long invested in a different version of the characters.

Short/Spoiler-Free: Season two was a fun time with excellent new characters, but the finale sets them up for a disastrous third season, and making Crowley and Aziraphale the main characters really does dilute the original message of the novel.

The rest of the review contains spoilers and is over 1,300 words because I was an English major in Uni. Carry on for those curious!

Let’s start off with the things that I liked about the show!

1.The actors for Crowley and Aziraphale are continuing to kill it with their performances: the physicality they bring to their characters is a delight, their timing in the comedy sections is impeccable, and I enjoy watching them do their thing.

2. Gabriel as a comedy relief character was amazing for me. I usually don’t enjoy comedy (and didn’t enjoy a single joke in the flashback scenes, but that’s entirely my fault probably for not liking humorous TV) but Gabriel really did tickle me.

3. Loved the terrifying Jane Austen ball where Aziraphale just messed around with everyone’s brains! Very chilling show of angelic power, potentially wasn’t played as horrific as it could have been, but still very nice! I like when Aziraphale is scary.

4. Muriel is my child and I love them with my entire heart. They were a delight of a character. Really brought new life to the show, and a new person to learn the message of the book (humanity as divinity). (Although the second season didn't really... carry that lesson for Muriel or for anyone else, so never mind that.)

5. The new human characters were also enjoyable and very sweet. Their dynamic was believable and real and that was good to see.

6. The writers really did just decide to make every side character gay and half of them use they/them pronouns. I have mixed opinions on it, but ultimately I did think it was a lovely little detail, especially with the angels/demons who are more separate from human genders.

Okay, now let’s get into the rest of things.

I think my overall conclusion from this season is that Crowley and Aziraphale were not, at all, made to be main characters. Even in the first season, I felt that they overemphasized them. In the book, the focus is split between them and the larger plot, with lots of little side vignettes to make sure the reader is kept grounded on Earth, with the humans, who are the emotional centre of the book. Aziraphale and Crowley play as foils to human nature in Adam and they are not the main characters, though they are, of course, the main marketing force.

Making them the main characters, especially in Season Two, meant dropping a lot of their character progress and giving them a lot more angst than they had in the novel. Both of them feel very young, where in the book they definitely seem more like they’ve been around for several millennia. I also feel that they aren’t totally allowed to be as fucked up as they were in the book? (Maybe that’s just a personal vendetta: I am furious that Season One took out the scene where Aziraphale kills his magician’s dove out of carelessness.)

Okay, two small things and then I’ll get to the finale.

First of all, interesting to get confirmation that Crowley was in the war on Heaven and actually took up arms? Feels contradictory to his ‘demon who sauntered vaguely downward’ description and also odd to his character that he would have fought directly against Heaven but I imagine that’s building to some other twist involving Crowley’s Fall in Season Three, so I’ll let it go for now. (I still think it makes show!Crowley very different from book!Crowley though)

Gabriel and Beelzebub were a very nice thing, although underdeveloped. It made me sad to see that they, as newly appointed side characters, can have a simple relationship, while Aziraphale and Crowley are now main characters and therefore need a more tumultuous and dynamic relationship that they didn’t have in the book, where they were actually relatively solid.

Now let’s go for finale time.

Ultimately, I absolutely hated two key things about the finale.

First of all, the kiss. I’m not sure if it was a direct response to the harassment about S1 being queerbaiting or if it was always the plan to have an explicitly physical relationship between the two, but I’m so mad about it either way. It just accepts the narrative that a physical relationship is the only stable one (ie. if Aziraphale had kissed Crowley back, it would have fixed everything and they could have been together). I also don’t really want my Good Omens show to be a religiously charged commentary on queer love, which it immediately became, especially with Aziraphale’s immediate response being “I forgive you,” which highlighted everything I didn’t want Good Omens to become.

Framing the kiss immediately as a sin is such a bad move, I don’t know what the writers were thinking??? Emphasizing that Aziraphale is an angel and however much he can want Crowley by his side, he can’t kiss him because he’s an angel and kissing is… something that needs to be forgiven?

However the line was supposed to be read, it really seemed like a religious condemnation and it hurt more than I care to admit. Aziraphale in the books is so comfortable with his perceived queerness, and his recoiling from it here with Crowley at the point where it becomes explicit… I didn’t care for it.

And secondly, the promotion.

That was so stupid on so many levels. My partner said that it wasn’t in character, since Aziraphale is not an ambitious angel and seems like someone who would turn tail and run from a promotion. I can’t say I remember his relationship with ambition in the books, but I respect and trust my partner’s opinion on that.

More importantly to me, it entirely muddies the message of the story and it reflects very darkly on what season three will involve.

Good Omens was never about ‘fixing’ Heaven or Hell. It was about honouring humanity as the truly divine mix of both, about not allowing them to end the Earth, and about finding a small place for yourself to live: a bookshop, a garden, a cottage, a town.

Aziraphale choosing to go and reform Heaven totally turns that on its head: now there is no ending for the show without either abandoning or fixing Heaven, and how is that going to work?? You can’t turn angels into an anarchy because it’s very clear they have no real natural inclination to ‘goodness’ but neither can you truly save Heaven, because what are you going to do? Declare that there’s no more cancer for young children? No more evil in the world? God has designed the world with evil in it, and there’s no rewriting that. Suddenly Good Omens has to grapple with what was once ineffable and almost unimportant to the lives of the characters: the true purpose of Heaven and Hell.

I have absolutely no faith in almost any TV show to tackle that question (The Good Place gets a minor pass), and no interest in watching the story be told through Aziraphale and Crowley, who have always been more grounded characters in a world of too much divine bureaucracy.

On the note of divine bureaucracy, I felt like it was lacking from the flashback scenes. While I enjoyed them overall and really appreciated some of my favourite book moments finally being adapted on-screen, they didn’t really address the paperwork they were covering for each other: seemed more like the two of them running around having almost random adventures, whereas in the novel they were often doing each other’s temptations and salvations in a much more ‘oh, check that off the list and write a progress report to the supervisor’ kind of way.

Again, this is because Aziraphale and Crowley have been made into Main Characters and their place as subordinates is now unimportant. They are making Big Decisions and causing changes in the world, and I truly don’t believe that’s what Aziraphale and Crowley were made to be. They were just an angel and a demon who tried to solve the apocalypse and didn’t end up doing anything because the anti-christ was a little too human for the whole plan to work in the first place.

And I miss them.

[l0verb0t]

jason todd × m! reader. | home bound.

SUMMARY: In many aspects, Jason still has a long way to go. But at the very least, he knows his loved ones accept him, even when he isn't entirely sure who he is yet. WARNINGs: physical contact & references to j.oker. WORD COUNT: 2300+ NOTEs: This is a queer Jason fic. It was originally written for him to be gay, but after finishing it, it can be interrupted in other ways, such as a bi and/or aro-spectrum Jason. This is somewhat based on the experience of having difficulty discovering and accepting oneself. The reader insert is referred to by he/him pronouns, doesn't have any dialogue, and is described with hair in a singular sentence. He's also referred to by the petname, "pretty boy."

Questions of his sexuality popped up every now and then. Half-assed responses only followed when they came from a close friend or even one of his family.

Jason didn't see the need for it. After all, his attention was on the criminals of Gotham; he didn't have the time. Why question something he already thought he was sure of when there are bad guys afoot.

In hindsight, that might've just been an excuse.

Sure, his attraction to women was always a hit or miss; that was normal. Yeah, sure, every relationship he's had with them has either ended with him slowly realizing he liked them better as friends or with them trying to kill him, but that didn't mean anything.

But then the two of you started growing closer over time.

He didn't mean for it to happen, but it was already too late for his scarred heart when he found himself slowly falling for you. Those feelings underneath began to burn the walls he built over his life and left him without a clue as to what to do with them.

Still, he had his fair share of experience. Though flirting wasn't his fortay, and there was no way he was going to rely on advice from his brothers, he tried.

It was all so new, and he didn't want to mess it up, but he nearly did just that. Tried as he might, he was still his father's son.

When it all wasn't going according to plan, he thought the best solution was to start ignoring those feelings, hoping they would fade over time so he wouldn't have to keep being so distracted and nervous around you all the time. Instead, it only made you two drift apart, and he would've continued if not for others' meddling.

Dick tried to be subtle.

Watching the docks from a skyscraper nearby, Jason contemplated rushing into the warehouse just to get away from Dick's constant pacing.

He pulled binoculars from his eyes to look back at his brother. A loud sigh was forced out of him at the sight of him. Dick was balancing on the edge, his arms held as high as the ends of his lips.

"Can you focus?"

With a scoff, he crouched down beside him. He nudged his fist into Jason's shoulder, looking him in the eyes through their masks.

"You should get out more; you're starting to sound like Bruce."

Dick plopped down onto the concrete railing, ignoring the rain that had settled on it.

They could've been up there the whole night, but eventually a car, far too fancy for a regular person in the city to own, pulled up to the warehouse. Jason pushed the other's face away when he tried to steal away the binoculars.

A short man in a well-fitted suit crawled out a moment later, brushing off a guard who tried to help him out.

"Ready to hunt a flightless bird?"

Dick was back on his feet by the time he looked back, stretching his arms side-to-side.

"Oh boy, do I."

Jason ran past him.

The pace he kept up as the two dashed their way down through the buildings below never ceased, and yet Dick still found the time to chat.

"Y'know, I know a girl you'd really like."

Jason had to catch his breath, but Dick ran by him without trouble, flicking him on the helmet and ducking away when he tried to reach for him.

"I could set you two up."

Despite the cold air that was rushing through his lungs, he almost laughed. Pushing past the exhaustion, he made his way over to the other man, who was looking over their city.

"Or a guy."

He didn't look back at Dick as they both stood on the roof.

Eventually, Jason leaned in to nudge his shoulder into his, pointing at the warehouse with his free hand.

"Or—" He stuffed the binoculars into Dick's hands. "You could focus on the mission."

And with that, Jason went ahead without another word, refusing to look back.

Tim and him were no closer than he was with Bruce; their growing bond strained by the multiple attempts Jason made on his brother's life. Small talk wasn't usually on the table.

Jason tried to convince him that it was just something he had to get used to in the vigilante business. Kin hurting kin. Tim wasn't so convinced.

A few days after their previous team-up, Barbara sent him a message. Apparently, she needed more evidence and, thus, needed his help again. Easy said, easy done. What he didn't expect was the company.

Why she gave him coordinates in the first place was lost on him, considering they were going to be meeting in the most obvious place.

He spent more time than he'd like to admit climbing up the clock tower, but that's besides the point. He dropped in through the hatch without any further problems and then stood there in silence.

Something felt off.

Barbara was nowhere to be seen, and just as he was about to search for her, the phone she gave him buzzed in his pockets. A new message was on the screen.

I needed to check in with my dad. I'll be there as soon as I can.

Bzzz.

Don't kill each other.

He took a deep breath, and then the lights came on behind him. Holding up a hand to shield himself from the light, he caught the colors of bright red and black through the space between his fingers.

As his eyes adjusted to the room, there stood Tim, who looked as exhausted as Jason felt. He was leaned up against a bookcase, holding one of Barbara's ridiculous mugs.

They stared at each other until Tim finally said something.

His posture immediately fixed under Jason's gaze, and he set the mug down as he spoke, "Nice to see you again, Red."

Jason looked up at the security cameras. Nope, they were on. Damn.

"Can't say the same. What are you doing here?"

Tim settled his elbow down so his head could lie in his gloved hand.

"Babs asked me to help."

"She tell you I was coming?"

Tim nodded and Jason wanted to wipe off the smile he sent his way.

"Then why didn't she tell me?"

"She thought you wouldn't come."

There were more important things at hand, but his gun was looking rather appealing in the moment. Still, only a deep sigh came as he clawed his hands down the face of his helmet.

"I can put aside how annoying you are to help Gotham."

Tim didn't say anything afterwards, only rolling his eyes. They didn't talk for awhile after that.

Jason occupied himself by digging through the evidence Barbara had put away and slumped into one of the spare chairs nearby. Under a watchful eye, he flipped through the files without a second thought.

Seeing as they were the only living things in the tower, it would be hard not to notice how finicky Tom was being.

In the farthest corner, he made a habit of checking his phone barely every minute, his legs bouncing just as repetitively.

Jason had to hold back a groan when he asked, "What's got you in a hurry?"

He didn't respond at first. Jason braced himself for the awkward silence that would follow.

"I have a date later tonight."

Now there was something interesting. The files were placed back on the desk.

"You? A date?" He almost laughed. "Impossible."

Despite it, a smile grew on Tim's face. His mouth opened without a sound and slammed shut just as quickly. Might as well entertain the kid.

"Who did you get lucky with?"

"Bernard. His name is Bernard."

"Bernard?"

He probably should've been more enthusiastically supportive, but all he could muster was a nod before he went to stroke his chin in thought. When his head dipped to the side, he caught the waiting eyes of his brother.

"Of all the people you could've scored a date with, it had to be a Bernard?"

A pillow, undoubtedly pulled from another chair nearby, was thrown as his head.

Barbara, on the other hand, tried a different approach.

Peering over a cafe, Jason balanced himself on a ledge with a cup held up to his scarred lips. He slid his helmet back on after a big gulp to spare himself from the cold air.

Their mission was nearing its end. A bitter farewell was on the way, but through the static from their coms and the freezing weather, they were able to find joy in the moment.

"So."

On the other side came the sound of a chair being pushed, the wheels creaking as she drew out her response.

His voice, distorted and lowered inside his mask, hummed back.

"So?"

"How about that guy you've been telling me about?"

The coffee sliding down his throat was nearly coughed back out. "What?"

"I just want to hear how he's doing." Her words were followed by laughter. "With the way you talk about him, you make him seem like the greatest person you've ever known."

He simply said it how he saw it, and yet with her, he didn't know what to say.

"He just means a lot to me."

"Of course."

He found himself hoping that was the end of it, but Barbara never relented.

"You should tell him that yourself."

Before he could ask, she continued.

"You know as well as I that Bruce isn't the best at verbalizing his feelings." A pen was being repetitively tapped on her desk. "He tries, but he still holds himself back when it comes down to it."

She heaved a sigh. "We both know the kind of problems that arise with that. So don't take after him in that regard."

"Duly noted."

Jason was able to finish his midnight "lunch" without any further interruption. At most, he was being bombarded with information she was dumping on him as he tried to finish a chicken sandwich. That peace didn't last long.

"You should introduce me to him one day."

He had just about finished crunching up a paper bag when she said that, stuffing it deep into his pockets.

"Maybe we could make it a double date."

And with that, he hopped from his crouched position, wiping his hands in the air.

"You know what, I think it's time I went to check on that hunch."

"Oh, now you do?"

Her laughter followed him down alleyways, and it brought a smile to his face.

As annoying as they could be sometimes, he had to give them credit. They all helped in their own little ways. But as much as he trusted them, he wasn't yet comfortable telling them about his current martial statues.

He knew well the kind of danger he was putting you in just by being around you, but even if word didn't get out, his mind provided more than enough horrific scenarios that could happen.

It wasn't long before he moved in with you. It took some convincing that you'd be safer if he lived with you than across the city.

Returning from a one-man mission, he was gone longer than he thought it would take. Still, it had to be done. The streets of his home were safe, at least for a night.

He dug through the pockets of his jeans, cursing when he kept pulling out trash. Eventually, a key was pulled from the wrappers. The relief he felt was the most he felt all week when a click came from the door. It opened with a creek, and the darkness inside greeted him.

Boxes of his personal possessions were still scattered across the apartment, full of stuff he knew would be better kept with you than in one of his warehouses.

He slammed the door behind him shut. No noise came after that.

We really need a security system.

The promise of rest nearly overtook him as he dropped his bags to the floor, almost falling with them.

Jason's voice rang out against the fragile walls. "Oh, honey, I'm home."

The couch looked comfortable enough, but a bed with his boyfriend persuaded him enough to drag himself down the hall to another closed door. As quietly as he could, he opened it.

He found what he was looking for, back turned and huddled in cloth, as did his paranoia. Jason was by your side in an instant, pulling your face to the side so he could see it through the dark.

In the place of the wide smile or the red he thought would be on that face, all he found was you sleeping soundly.

A hand trembled up the side of your neck until he was grasping your face. He soothed over the patch of black underneath your eye with his thump and then sighed. Maybe he wasn't as over it as he thought.

His eyes fell back to his clothes, littered with drops of blood. He backed away to begin changing out of his suit.

Pulling his shirt over head, he had to make sure not to slip on the pile of clothing surrounding his feet. By the time he looked back up, he was looking back into tired eyes.

He stopped in his tracks and smiled back at you.

With his arms stretched high, he made sure not to raise his voice: "Enjoying the view, pretty boy?"

Before you could leave the bed, Jason was back by your side, pushing away the strands of hair in your face. With his thighs braced on the bed, he leaned down to place a kiss on your head.

"Did I wake you up?"

After your nod, he was crawling into bed. He dug his face into your shoulder, and the smell of his body wash fell over him. Jason began to pull you closer to his fast-paced heart.

"I missed you, too."

[genshin-obsessed]

If its fine, can you please do a Thoma fic, where reader tries her best to help and impress him with chores and stuff but she ends messing up and humiliating herself which causes reader to feel useless and a bother. Y/n would then distance herself from Thoma out of shame which causes Thoma to look for her and sees her trying to improve herself yet failing though he could see she was trying (ex. she has bandages in her hands due to hurting herself accidentally in cooking.)

So, I've been working on this fic for way too long. It's lengthy, it's also more of a platonic thoma x reader, but you're welcome to interpret it how you like. Your partner can become your best friend overtime. ♢ Character: Thoma ♢ Word count: 2398 ♢ Genre: kinda angst to fluff ♢ Extra: the reader is female as requested and uses she/her pronouns <3

Thoma was a very impressive man, to say the least. He did things at an inhuman level, in your opinion. You always tried hard to keep up with him, but he was just too good. He was responsible, a great cook, great advisor, good timekeeper, amazing best friend- the list was endless. You were envious of his talents- in the best ways. He was your best friend but the thing was… you felt a little inadequate sometimes. If your best friend was so impressive, you should be too! But that was easier said than done, where were you even supposed to start? After plenty of contemplation, you decided to start small! So you embarked on a mission- one to be almost as impressive as Thoma! You’d show him you could do chores just like he could!

“Hey, (n/n), whatcha doing?” Thoma asked as he walked up to you. You had been running through the estate trying to clean up and he… didn’t really see why. He actually had a hard time finding you, that’s how fast you were moving. 

“Oh! Just cleaning up a bit! I’ve been doing pretty good if I say so myself!” You said with a bright smile as you stopped dusting the table and looked up at him.

“Um…” he chuckled sheepishly, giving you a sympathetic smile. “I wouldn’t say that great. You missed a few spots.” Your eyes widened and you immediately looked around, feeling your heart sink a little. Of course that look sent an instant wave of regret through Thoma. That came out way harsher than he meant it to.

“What? Where? How?” Thoma didn’t have an answer for your last question, but he was quick to point out the tea stains on the table. Not to mention, one still had something sticky on it, what you assumed to be sauce from a dish. You were quick to scrub it down before looking at Thoma.

“Minor mistakes, but I’ll make sure they don’t happen again!”

“That’s sweet, (n/n), but why are you cleaning?” He asked with a head tilt, making you sigh as you finally took a moment to breathe. You might as well give him a minor explanation to what you’d been plotting.

“Well, I always see you doing everything around the estate. I mean, you do have help but it always feels like you do a majority of things. So, I wanted to help you!” Your words brought a smile to Thoma’s face and brought warmth to his chest. This was no surprise, you were always so sweet and thoughtful, of course you were concerned about him and his work.

“That’s very kind of you, but you don’t need to. I have it handled.”

“Well everyone deserves a break! I think you do too!” Thoma was a little unsure. Not that he was underestimating you, but it was a lot of work for one person to handle. Even he didn’t work alone, he was just fast. However, you also lacked proper knowledge on what the cleaning required at the estate. Not to mention, you weren’t used to the work here and you were moving fast. He could assume- just like the tables earlier- you might’ve missed a… few spots in different rooms.

“Ok, why don’t you help me then? We’ll work together and move faster.” He offered, but deep down he knew he was really saying that to cover you. Of course, he didn’t have the heart to say it to your face, seeing as how happy it made you to help him.

“No! I got this! Trust me!” Um… he kinda didn’t, but he eventually relented. You didn’t have that much experience in cleaning this particular estate and he knew it was a lot of work. But your big eyes filled with hope and determination melted whatever barriers he had.

“Alright, if you’re sure. Just let me know if you need any help.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t disappoint!” You declared, throwing him a thumbs up. Thoma only chuckled and gave you a pat on the head before he turned and walked away.

***

So began your little attempt at cleaning the manor… by yourself. You ran through everything, making sure to scrub well to avoid any stains, making sure to spray down disinfectants, fixing up decor, wiping down seats, rearranging items- all of that.

However, after only a couple of rooms, you realized how tired you were. Thoma had checked in on you every now and then, but you were sure to plaster a smile on your face and let him know that everything was going fine. The rest of the rooms were quite difficult- physically. Little by little, you finally managed to finish all the rooms you’d assumed needed cleaning.

So, you went off to find Thoma and it didn’t take long to find him… cleaning up your messes.

“Thoma? Did I miss a spot?” You asked with a frown, making the man stand up with wide eyes.

“O-oh yeah, just a tiny one! Don’t worry, I got it though. You did a really good job, thank you so much for all your help (n/n)!.” The biggest, brightest smile graced your features making his heart light up.

“Is there anything else you need help with?” Thoma immediately shook his head, you’d done plenty and even if it wasn’t the best work, he didn’t expect it for someone on their first day.

“Nope! Now go home, you deserve a break. Besides, tomorrow is our lunch date, don’t be late.” He said with a smile, which made you chuckle a little.

“Ok!” You chirped, giving your friend one last hug before you were off to go take your break. You’d come visit him later in the evening, you just wanted to surprise him.

When you were gone, a head popped out from behind Thoma. It was another maid in the house.

“Your friend isn’t very good at cleaning.” Thoma only sighed and turned to face her.

“She’s trying.”

“Can we get started on cleaning up then?” They were talking about cleaning up your mistakes, to which Thoma nodded.

Overall, you were a big help. Sure, they did have to clean in the end anyway, but because of you, their work was finished in less than an hour since they were just fixing mistakes. However, since they had to do it anyway, there was not much of a point in you helping. Of course, Thoma only tried to see the positives as you did spend a majority of your day helping him but… you made a lot of mistakes. It was ok! He fixed them with the help of others!

***

Later that evening, you did indeed surprise Thoma at the estate, bringing him some of his favorite snacks and drinks. Thoma was more than happy to have you over and asked you to wait in his room while he finished up some work for Ayato.

On your way to Thoma’s room, you heard the other maids talking. It was about you.

“Yeah, well she tried but we still had to clean up after her.” One of them said, making the other chuckle.

“I think it’s nice of her.”

“Not if we still have to do the work.” A third one mentioned, which broke your heart. “Yeah, if she does it and it’s a day off for us, that’s great. But we had to clean up anyway.”

“Ok, but we clean every day. So what’s the difference today?” The second one argued to which the first and third shrugged their shoulders.

“Just saying, it felt like she created more work for us to do than help us.” The maids moved on to another topic, but you stood there- absolutely humiliated. Is that what you did?

Your legs slowly moved until you were in Thoma’s room but you just stood there in the middle of the room. The bag slipped from your hand and hit the ground with a thud but it barely phased you.

You… didn’t help, you just made more work for them. You thought you were helping but that’s not what they thought at all. Now, it suddenly made sense why Thoma kept saying no and why he was fixing up that one mistake.

“(n/n)?” You heard behind you, making you whip around to see Thoma. His eyes held concern and he walked to you, bending down to pick up the bag before frowning at you. “What’s wrong? Are you crying? What happened?” He immediately set the bag aside and took your shoulders. “Don’t cry, what’s wrong? Did someone say something to you? Did someone hurt you?” Thoma stood there in a moment of silence as he gave you a minute to just think.

Finally, you spoke up and the way your words came out broke his heart. Your tone was filled with sorrow and embarrassment, there was even a slight hint of pain.

“Did I make you guys clean up after me?” Thoma’s eyes widened a little and he fell silent. What was he supposed to say? He didn’t want to lie to you but he also didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Besides, it looked like you already figured it out, so lying would just hurt you further.

“Yes… we did. There were… a lot of spots you missed. So we just had to go back and fix those. It didn’t take too long if that’s what you’re worried about. Took us a fraction of the time than it usually would.” But they did end up working later than usual.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t intend to make more work for you guys.” Thoma shook his head and took your shoulders.

“It’s fine, (n/n), it’s not as serious as you think.” He said, trying to assure you. “Besides, like I said, this was your first time so you don’t hold it against yourself.”

“Right.” You replied, not really affected by his attempt to lift your spirits. It was clear you were no longer wanting to speak about the topic, so he just let it go.

You didn’t stick around for too long, finding some excuse to leave after about thirty minutes- which was fine seeing as how the entire time was super awkward. Thoma tried making conversation but you weren’t into it. So it was best you left.

For the next few days, Thoma didn’t see you around the estate at all. He barely even heard about you from the others. When he went out to the city to buy some things, he didn’t see you there either. He asked all your friends who hadn’t spoken to you in days. With every coming no, Thoma’s concern grew further and further until he could no longer contain it.

Thoma went to your home, knocking on the door and kept doing it until you eventually opened up. You seemed… tired. Your expression made Thoma frown as he leaned in and touched your face. You almost flinched and stepped back.

“Can I help you?” You asked curtly, as if you were trying to rush this interaction.

“Are you ok, (n/n)? What’s wrong? I haven’t seen you in days and I’m really worried about you.” Thoma said, his voice expressing the concern he felt. You looked away, unsure of how to reply.

“Everything’s ok, I just needed some time to myself.” You replied, placing a hand on the doorframe.

“Y-you’re hurt!” He exclaimed as he saw your bandaged hand. You immediately hid your hand behind you, taking another step back.

“Nothing, it was just an accident. Look, I gotta go- things to do.” You said as you tried to shut the door, but Thoma stopped you. It was one of the rare occasions in which he used your actual name instead of your nickname.

“(y/n). Please. What is going on with you? Did I do something? I’m sorry, tell me what it is and I’ll fix it. Please!” His eyes were wide with both desperation and fear. The more you stared, the more guilt you felt creep into your chest. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, you showed him both of your hands, which were covered in bandages.

“It’s not what you think, I just burned myself while learning how to cook.” Thoma’s warm hands took yours every so gently- as if he were worried that he’d add to the wounds.

“Wh-why are you doing that?” Not that it was a bad skill to learn, but why like this?

“Because…” you mumbled, looking up at him, “I… can’t clean well. So, I thought I might be more useful with cooking. Turns out, I suck at that too.” Thoma just stared for a moment before he pulled you in for a tight hug. He couldn’t say anything for a good few moments as he held you close to him. “Thoma?”

“I’m… sorry. I didn’t mean to make you think you couldn’t do anything.” He murmured, making you shake your head.

“It’s not your fault. I just felt bad because I was making you guys do extra work.” You replied as you hugged back, leaning into him a little.

“That’s not it at all though, (n/n), I never once thought that. Everyone messes up in the beginning but I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He slowly pulled away, taking your hands in his again. “Did you burn yourself?”

“Burns and cuts, yeah. They don’t really hurt anymore- I’m fine.” You said, trying to pull your hands back but his grip tightened.

“You can’t say that when you’ve gotten to this point.” You frowned at his words, but didn’t move. “I… can teach you, if you want.” 

“You w-wanna teach me how to cook?” You asked with a tilt of your head to which he nodded.

“Yeah, it’s an important skill. If you’re willing to learn, why don’t we do it together?” He offered, making you fall in thought. You’d done all this because you were embarrassed but he clearly wanted to help. Not to mention… you were hopeless without him.

“O-ok, sure.” You said with a nod, before sighing in defeat. Thoma only smiled and ruffled your hair.

“Come on, let’s take a look at these wounds and see if there’s anything we need to do to take care of them.” He said as he walked into your home, shutting the door behind you two.

[transflorall]

hey hey, this is a blog made for mogai/liom accessibility, usually regarding flag designs but I will make IDs and PTs as well.

!! this blog runs mostly on requests, so theyre highly encouraged !!

things I do:

give the flags a less eyestrainy palette (I might struggle with this as Im only situationally affected by color eyestrain)

simplify complicated flags (lots of stripes, complicated stripe shapes, not even striped flags, etc.)

provide flag IDs (may refuse as I struggle with describing complicated stuff. everything I make accessible will have IDs though)

give plain text to posts that lack it, non typing quirk, 3rd person 1st person pronouns or 1st person neopronouns versions if there are any. I wont change 'we' to 'I' as it would be disrespectful towards systems.

reblog stuff regarding these

more things!! we'll see!!!

curious about me? my main liom blog is @kiruliom , though keep in mind it itself has some eyestrainy elements, theyre mostly properly tagged but sometimes I miss some so be aware.

I use kie/kir and it/its with he/him aux, any masc, fem, neut, or nonhuman terms are okay to use as long as it doesnt have woman or female in it :D

also english is not my first language and I am very much not american and not up to its politics so if I mess up please be patient with me.

mmm promo maybe???

@transhaunting @epikulupu @hypnosiacon (ngl exo inspired me to make this) @cocajimmycola @gender-mailman @donniesbf @mogai-sunflowers and anyone else who doesnt mind reblogging this? pls??

[mavratt]

MK HEADCANONS!!!!

WOO!!!

(all of these are for my design of MK, which will be at the bottom, though many of them also apply to not just my design)

- Uses He/They pronouns

- Transmasc

- ADHD/Autism (both)

- Goes non-verbal occasionally, mostly after long work days or tedious tasks that require lots of focus 

- Favorite stim is repeating words/phrases that they find funny

- They sleeps on their back in human form but when in monkey form he sleeps either on his stomach or on his side due to his tails getting uncomfortable after a while

- Keeps all of his limited edition/collectable figures in the boxes

- One time he dropped one of their collectable Monkey King figures and dented the box, he then cried about it on the phone with Red Son for an hour, who was not amused

- Stays up way to late drawing/painting

- Staying up that late doesn’t help with their already poor work effort

- Likes to show off their drawing/paintings to his friends, Mei will occasionally commission them for art for her streams and will gawk about it to her fans

- Mei’s fans are where most of his commissions come from

- Dabbled in other art mediums like clay and lino but made such a mess that Pigsy banned him from these mediums (”How did you even get lino scraps in the noodles!?”)

- Got bullied in school but Mei would always be there to punch any of them if she saw it

- This got them both in trouble lots at school

- One time Mei punched one of MK’s bullies so hard it knocked them out, the school called Pigsy and his response was “Served them right, shouldn’t mess with my son. Or his crazy dragon friend.” He then promptly hung up before they could say anything else

- Their vitiligo is caused by stress

- Started developing their vitiligo around the age of 15 due to the bullying and failing a couple of classes at school

- After getting out of school their vitiligo practically stopped expanding but started up again after he gained Monkey Kings staff

- The vitiligo used to just be around the corners of their eyes but after gaining his monkey form it suddenly expanded into a monkey mask looking splotch

- He doesn’t like his vitiligo very much and tries his best to cover most of it with clothing but both Mei and Red Son absolutely adore it so his jacket often comes off when it’s just them alone

- Loves spicy foods (Thank you to PittedPeaches’s fic “From Three Thirty to Four” (On Ao3) for this one)

- Has a fear of mayors because of LBD’s disciple

- Has sensitive hearing and loves wearing headphones, which eventually leads them to ask Macaque how he deals with it, Macaque just shrugged and said “I suffer, I guess.” and MK immediately took him to buy some good headphones. Macaque will deny using them but he definitely does and is very grateful to MK for buying them for him

- Will clean anyone's house but his own, Macaque, Sandy and Wukong have all come home to find it spotless because MK was procrastinating something

- Will sometimes let Porty MK out to run around because people really liked his skill after S1 Ep 2 and have made him a kind of “extreme party night” location

- Red Son has come across Porty out in the wild and was extremely confused but never brought it up to MK (Red thinks it might be some sort of secret identity and doesn’t want to pry)

- Doodles Red Son whenever they are at a movie night/hangout, it’s practically a stim by now

Designs (old MK, new Monkey MK):