#also idk if there's a thirst for the office fics

[nouearth]

i need him so bad lord 😭

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.

[mysicklove]

you ask for a thirst?, I shall deliver. this is something I've thought about but I don't know if it's good enough for a fic.. pro-hero!kirishima, who has a worker (like an assistant, fem!reader) who whenever he does something well (idk defeats a powerful villain, or something along the lines) rewards him by fucking him.

THIS IS SHIT IM SORRY!!

No this is such a good idea. I swear that makes so much sense with his character. I was going to make this a drabble but one thing led to another…

𝐌𝐑. 𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓!

Paring: Sub! Top! Pro-Hero Kirishima x Dom! Bottom! Female! Assistant reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Oral (fem receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, teasing lol

A/N: This low-key isn't hot, its more fun and cute. I feel like hot-very serious sex is not Kirishimas thing, but also idk what im talking about. I also head cannon him to have a VERY high stamina so lololol

In the beginning, you would make small positive regards on well he did in battle. As his personal assistant, it wasn't unheard of to praise your boss. But then you slowly became more confident when you noticed how positively he reacted. You switched to running your fingers down his biceps and fluttering your lashes at him, while you called him “big” and “strong.” This was the first time you saw him get hard. You kept it to yourself.

You realized he had a crush on you not long later. Watched him come racing to your desk to tell you about his missions. Watched him squirm and falter whenever you got too close to him. And finally watched his crumble under you when you first sucked him off.

But you have never fucked. He was desperate for it at this point and you hung it over his head. It was adorable watching him slowly get pent-up and frustrated. But he never complained.

So you couldn't help but tease him just a tad.

He races out of his desk when he got the call from Pinky. On his way out he sees you, sitting at your desk sucking on a lollipop. He forces himself to tear his gaze away from your lips, that oh just recently was around him, so that he could continue walking.

You on the other hand, rest your head on your hand and grin up at him, before taking the lollipop out of your mouth. “Make sure to be a good boy and catch that villain, maybe you’ll get a nice reward when you come back,” You call and he froze mid-step to turn back to you.

His face turns red and he brings his hands up to play with his face gear in embarrassment. “What type of reward? Do you mean…Do you really…Wait–Stop it! I have to go! I’ll come back, I promise, please wait for me, I’ll be good!” And with that he quickly runs away from you leaving you with a small smirk, loving the way you make the pro hero flustered.

The villain was hard to catch. Simply for one, his quirk was strong, and two, Eijiro could not stay focused. Your voice and that goddamn lollipop could not leave his head and the idea of reward? It was too much for him.

So, when Dynamite grabs the villain, Eijiro manages to scamper away and sprint back to his office. He ignored the raised eyebrow from Pinky, who is confused due to the fact that he always stays around just to make sure nothing happens. They failed to understand that he has somewhere to be!

He rushes over to his office and sees you sitting on his desk, legs crossed, and playing with his Red Riot nameplate. He tries to calm his rapid breaths from the run, so he doesn’t look too desperate, but it fails, and you smirk at him.

He gulps. He is your boss, why the hell is he getting so flustered around you?

“Cmere Mr. Red Riot,” You purr and he jumps. He loves it when you call him that. The two of you have been working together for a while, and he assured you to call him Kirishima, but now at this very moment, he regrets asking you that. Because why the hell does his hero name sound so sexy when it falls from your lips?

He quickly shuts and locks the door before following your command. He stands in front of you and has to look down to make eye contact with you. He towers over you in this position. “Can I have, uh, have my reward now? The villain…He is in jail.” You begin to run your fingers over his bare chest, slightly glistening with sweat. He shudders.

“Was my strong pro-hero doing a good job protecting the city?” You purr as you trace a circle around one of his nipples.

He nods his head rapidly but winces when you pinch the nub lightly. “Y-Yeah! I was good like you said!”

You smile warmly and he looks away with a small blush. “That's great. Good job. What would you like as a reward? I can schedule you a couple of days off from work–I mean you definitely deserve a vacation”

His eyes snap back toward yours in confusion. He leans forward and rests his head on your shoulder. “Don't tease me. You know what I want,” He whines and you grin.

“I can't read minds. You gotta tell me, Red.” Another nickname he adores so much. Probably even more than Red Riot, due to the fact you used it when you gave him head last time.

“Wanna fuck you.” You giggle lightly at the comment and he blushes even more. Then, he mumbles out, “Please?”

You lean forward and begin to press light kisses on his torso and he sighs. “Take off your clothes, love. Is the door locked?” You murmur and he nods his head. “Good boy.” He looks away with a wobbly smile. Then, he begins to undress.

Now, he stands in front of you, completely bare, contrasting your fully clothed self. He can't bear to look at you, he's too embarrassed. His fists clench at his side, waiting for your command.

You slip off your small cardigan and then shimmy your mini skirt off. He watches eagerly, trying his best to not get too hard. Then, you begin to fake struggle with your buttons and look up at him with a pout. “Do you, um, need help Y/N?”

You smile at him. “Would you?” He gulps but nods. He takes a step closer to you and with shaky fingers he begins to take off your shirt, button by button. He holds his hands on your waist as he stares at your now bare breasts. You weren't wearing a bra. He was hard.

You grab his chin and press your lips to his. He moans into it and kisses you back with such intensity, you have to slightly lean back. You fall backward on his desk and he leans over you, elbows leaning next to your head. You feel his cock brush against your panties and gasp.

He begins to kiss your neck and moves down your body. “Been waiting for this. For so long,” He murmurs against your skin, looking up at you with doe eyes.

“Yeah? Ever since I gave you that blowjob?” He licks your stomach and smiles.

“Ever since the first day you complimented me.”

“So desperate,” You tease and he huffs, gently nipping at the skin beneath him.

“But I didn't say anything! Didnt, want to make you uncomfortable!”

“I know. You're so cute.” He blushes again and falters. It's one of those compliments he can't help but blush at. His whole life he tried to be manly and somehow he is reduced to being “cute” to you. It made him feel strange, but good. “Want you to eat me out, can you do that for me, Red?”

He was buzzing with excitement. He has been waiting patiently for you to allow him to return the favor. “Y-Yeah! Thank you.” You laugh lightly at his politeness.

He tears himself from the desk and kneels in front of your clothed pussy. He grabs the lacey underwear and pulls it down, exposing you completely. He stares at it, admiring it with blown pupils. He doesn't know where to start. His throbbing cock was distracting him. “Taking your sweet time down there aren't ya? Need any help?”

He grips your hips and pulls you forward onto his mouth. You gasp. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and he traps you in his hold. He laps and suckles like a starved man.

Your head falls back against the desk and you arch your back slightly. One of your hands falls on his red hair and grips it. “Doing so well for me. Making me f-feel so good.” His moans come out muffled.

He begins to hump the air and his eyes begin to water with his lack of air. Drool and other juices begin to drip down his chin and his red eyes don't leave yours. He feels a sense of pride when he watches you come undone. It makes me feel like he is needed.

He unbelievably was messy. The noises that came from below were lewd and if anyone pressed their ear against the door, they would definitely know exactly what was happening. Eijiros flushed and wet face didn't help your case.

“Fuck! Going to cum. Dont, stop!” You moan as your body begins to contract. Eijiro nods against you and whines softly when you tug his hair. He grabs your hips and pressed them even closer to his face and your mouth goes open in a silent moan, and you tremble against him.

When you come down Eijiro doesn't seem to get the hint. In fact, with the added juices he seems to lap at your cunt even harder. “Enough Kirishima.”

He pulls away immediately at the command with a dazed look. Unknown liquids drip from his face and his eyes furrow. “Red,” He reminds and you roll your eyes with a smile, before bracing yourself on your elbows.

“Yeah, yeah. Red. Now tell me Red, do you want me to suck you off or do you want to fuck me?” He sits on his knees and thinks for a minute. You grab a tissue from his desk and lean forward to wipe his drenched mouth. He smiles wide, showing his pointy teeth and you laugh.

“Fuck me.” He sighs dreamily and you hold back a laugh. “I mean you. Fuck you. Not fuck you as in “Fuck you!” like I want to fu–”

“Okay yeah, I got it. Cmere.” He nods his head, ears burning red, and leans back over you. He kisses you again and you can taste yourself. He thrusts his tongue into your mouth with a moan. You feel his throbbing cock on your thigh, so you pull away and glance down.

It's huge. Red and throbbing. Drops of pre drip from it and onto your thigh. When you turn your gaze back to the man in front of you, you hold back a coo. You swear he is giving you puppy dog eyes. “Well? Put it in.”

“I can? For real now?” If he was a puppy, his tail would be wagging frantically. But he wasn't and you were getting impatient.

“Yeah, if you put it in before I dry up.”

“Sorry! Just excited!” You laugh as he lines up his cock, his face bright red. With one quick, but hard thrust, he is in and the two of you moan. His mouth grazes against yours and he looks at you with lidded eyes when he slowly begins to start moving his hips. Your legs wrap around his hips and he sighs.

“Mhmmm feels good,” he mumbles. You nod your head and his hips begin to go quicker and stronger. He pulls himself away from you to stand fully up. He grabs your hips and continues to ram his cock into you. “Been thinking about this forever,” He whines and your smile, and squeeze your eyes shut when he hits that spot.

“Yeah?” You say, knowing he already told you this earlier. It was cute though.

“Yeah! I-I kept thinking about it today. Oh god! Got distracted earlier.” He groans and presses a kiss to your leg. You grip the edge of the desk as your body continues to move up and down on the desk from the force of his thrusts.

You try to stay composed, but it's a lot harder now. “Aw, Pro-Hero couldn't stop thinking about fucking his assistant? You're so lewd, Red Riot. What would the fans think?” He whines and his blush flares at your teasing tone. He loves it. Loves how condescending and pitying you sound, it makes him feel dumb.

He flips you over and your eyes widen as your chest now touches the cool desk. He brings your hips back so that they fall over the edge of the desk and then pushes his body on top of yours, chest to your back. His much larger frame covers you completely as he rests his elbows on the table next to your head so he doesn't crush you. “Can't help it!” He finishes, acting like he didn't just switch positions so rapidly.

Lewd smacks and grunts fill the air and the two of you pant. Eijiro hasn't stopped talking, constantly chanting out praises and whines. His rough pace never slowed down and you have already came. His stamina was unbelievable, you barely could keep up with him.

“Oh no. No no no. I'm going to cum–Not yet! It can't end yet!” Even in your exhausted state, you laugh and then whine.

“S-So dramatic. We can go again love. A-And when you get back from your missions!” The last part comes out shaky and your eyes slightly roll back.

Either from your words or his upcoming orgasm, he was going even faster. “Will you reward me every time? Please, please, please! I'll continue being good, I promise!” He flips you over and you are looking back into his eyes. Desperation leaks from his face, for whatever reason afraid of you saying no.

You shakily reach a handout cup on his cheek, and he leans into your palm immediately. Sweat and lose tears fall from his face and onto yours. “Of course. Now, be good and cum for me, Red.”

He nods his head rapidly and whines into your neck. “I'm cumming. Thank you! Thank you! Oh fuck.” His hips stutter and he cums in you with one last high-pitched moan.

The hero half collapses on you, now only one arm to brace himself up. You pet his head affectionately.

He turns to you, eyes half-lidded and grinning with an after-sex glow. “Round two?”

There is a knock at the door and the two of you freeze. “Mr. Red Riot, you have a meeting in five minutes. Oh and if you see Ms. L/N, please let me know!”

He looks at you with those puppy dog eyes again. “Do I have to go?” He whispers into your neck and you laugh, before pushing his sweaty body off of you.

“Go, you horny bastard.”

“Will I get another reward if I do?” He grins and you pinch the bridge of your nose. He doesn't leave until you agree.

[bangchansdirty-slut]

My Dirty-minded Thoughts Part 1

Masterlist

Just me in my room, thirsting. Also, I am too lazy to put punctuation and fix my grammar because I just used my last brain cell to write the Chan fic. So, yeah, enjoy! (Don't ask me why I used punctuation here. Also, my inbox has been collecting dust for quite a bit, so feel free to request any idol for me to write about.)

Cock Piercing Hyunjin!?

I was literally was just watching edits of him on Instagram Live and I was thinking about maybe writing about Cock Piercing Hyunjin x male reader, like before you guys were official he couldn't get enough of his eyebrow piercing he decide to get another one and he decided to be brave and go with dick piercing cause he heard good things about it but fast forward to when he fucks you and you literally go absolutely crazy and become a moaning mess to the feeling of his pierced cock in you

Office Meeting Fucking!?

IDK if any of you guys have seen the tik toks with that one bl manhwa (I think it's a manhwa but I don't remember) picture where the guy fucks the other guy on the table while having a meeting with everyone there that seems so fucking hot and embarrassing but I really wanna write it anyways. Like imagine him just ramming his cock into you and you are so embarrassed but also a moaning mess so he whispers into your ear

"Don't worry baby there's no need to be embarrassed about they are just some irrelevant employees and if any of them say anything about this or get off to this right now I'll make their lives a living hell."

Idol Yeounjun x Stalker!?

Imagine reader is a stalker who just happened to follow Yeonjun to his secret apartment and Yeonjun is furious so he decides to fuck some sense into reader

Neighbor Chan x Reader!?

Where you had moved into your apartment a while ago and you were doing laundry in the shared laundry mat and you noticed that your dirty underwear kept going missing little did you know your Neighbor Chris who has had a crush on you ever since you moved in, was secretly stealing your undies to jerk off to eventually u caught him and decided to help him out cause he was hot.

[leonenjoyer69]

Both your OCs occupy space in my mind lol I love both Harry and Elias. Would you mind giving some more rambles please and thank you? About either one. I just love learning more about them.

VJEKBKDKF TYSM, I'M GLAD YOU LIKE THEM :D it makes me very happy to know that people enjoy my ramblings and art of my lil fellas :3 (also, all you sweet anons are gonna be the death of me with your mysterious identities!)

(SUB NOTE: if anyone ever has any ideas at all or art requests or something for either of my sillies PLEASE don't hesitate to bring them up I would literally love hearing any suggestion or answering any question ever)

Anyways!!! I've actually been waiting to drop a bunch of stuff on these fellas that I've been talking about with some folks on Discord (which y'all can also ask for if you wanna talk to me on there I LOVE TALKING TO YOU GUYS), so thank you for granting me the perfect opportunity >:3 so, without further ado, I shall begin:

First of all, i just wanted to drop my height HCs bc,,,, why not lmao

I can't exactly visualize heights very well in my mind so these may be a wee bit too tall, idk, but yeah! I think giving Hyde an extra half inch would be funny bc you KNOW that mf would just round up lmao. Elias is a bit taller than Hyde, which Hyde kinda hates sometimes, itty bitty fella.

Anyways!! Harry is first up for rambling bc I have less for him rn lmao. I don't remember if ive mentioned it much before on here, but I know I included it in the fic i did for him, and that's his Scottish accent :3 we as a fandom don't write Jekyll's accent enough so I like projecting it onto injured Hyde and now Harry 😌 MORE SCOTTISH JEKYLL PLEASE-

Harry didn't really have to worry about keeping face in the mindscape (except for when around Mind Lanyon, who would pester tf out of him over it) so he fell back to at LEAST having an accent. He partially fell back on it because 1, it made him feel a wee more comfortable, and 2, because of how often he revisited memories from university (specifically during his and Lanyon relationship ofc), so he's used to hearing himself speaking with at least a drawl.

But yeah, that accent kinda sticks with him when he gains control and he has quite a hard time shaking it, which makes for some fun interactions, like when Lanyon's trying to break down his office door :3333

I believe I've mentioned this, but Harry is very very sensitive to most physical sensations (touch, pain, etc.) and has some light and sound sensitivities for a decent bit after gaining control. Because of how long he spent in the mindscape with numbed senses, It really messed with him to suddenly have control again. Eventually he starts getting used to it again, but for the first few days he's practically on the edge of a mental breakdown at every moment. He's also super jumpy from it (and from the ungodly paranoia he got from the mindscape lmao) and is quite firmly "no touch" for about a week (except for when he initiates stuff with Lanyon). Once he gets used to it tho his touch starved ass is a lot more affectionate and such.

One last thing for him! He's also far more sensitive to hunger and thirst sensations/pain, so he tends to take far better care of their body while in control. It took him a short while to get used to eating and drinking again, but he's more than happy to do it, not realizing how much he had missed it. Plus, he's seen how horrible Jekyll and Hyde would take care of themselves, so he certainly doesn't want their neglect to be his downfall. He's also a bit more sensitive to being tired, but can't sleep very well (especially without Lanyon) because of paranoia and nightmares.

OKAY, NOW, onto Elias!! Most all this stuff is from a discord convo that I didn't feel like rewording, so... Sorry if the formatings weird 💀 (questions are indented and italicized, as well as abbreviated)

OKAY SO, For how Henry (or whoever) convinces Elias to switch back:

Elias usually throws some sort of fit when he's initially order to switch back (except for the very rare instances where he's actively wanting to switch back, like when everyone's busy and he starts getting lonely anyways), though most the time he'll simmer down when Henry starts sorta begging or when either Henry or Lanyon (or very occasionally Hyde) lowkey bribe him. Usually Henry (or Hyde) will bribe him with physical touch/affection (hugs, cuddling, kisses, stuff like that), or bonding time, like going out and doing things together and such (or just doing stuff together at the society, like watching Henry do science or doing paperwork 💀). (Also, sometimes Jekyll will just get somewhat impatient and start asking more desperately and the guilt kinda gets to Elias, Henry usually feels bad about it tho) otherwise, Lanyon will bribe him (quite grudgingly, might I add) with more time out, going to the park with Elias in shadow form and talking, or letting him get a gift for Jekyll or Hyde. But yeah, Elias is lowkey like a little affectionate, overactive puppy :3

[...] I misread "letting him get a gift for Jekyll or Hyde" as "letting him get a gift FROM Jekyll or Hyde" and swore for a moment that sometimes Jekyll/Hyde sent gifts to Elias but Lanyon stole them [... ]

LANYON WOULD TOTALLY STEAL ELIAS'S STUFF TO USE AS BARGAINING LEVERAGE 💀 but yes, bribery is the go to, this guy does NOT like being locked away, so when he does it's either out of guilt or he's getting something out of it, hehe

[...] Imagine that since Lanyon is probably taller than elias, he just hides some lf his stuff on higher places so that he cannot reach them, I feel like Elias would annoy the hell out of him so that he stops doing it though (Lanyon puts them back where they where, and when Elias isn't there, he just hides them again) also, I just imagined Jekyll like guilt tripping or manipulating him so that he drinks the potion

Oh he absolutely would, Lanyon would have a whole "confiscated" shelf for it too, and Elias would definitely whine about it with sooo much persistence. AND JFKGKKF YEAH JEKYLL WOULD 😭😭 both out of selfishness and not, since he still hasn't tested how the formula behaves when an alter ego is out for prolonged amounts of time, and sometimes he just wants Robert back.

Jekyll likes Elias, he just has more of a preference for Lanyon. Jekylls probably also got a bit less patience for Elias's whining after dealing with Hyde's for so long lmao, he always feels kinda bad about being mean or anything to Elias tho, since it's kinda his fault that Lanyon split.

Would Lanyon ever like bother Elias with the fact that Jekyll likes him better?? Like maybe, at one point he just gets too tired of him wanting to hang out with Jekyll and says to him that Jekyll just deals with him out of pity, and like Elias then just feeling kinda bad about it and wondering if Jekyll actually likes him??

If Lanyon's feeling especially spiteful and annoyed, probably, but also Elias worries about that enough on his own and bothers Lanyon with all his self deprecating thoughts anyways 💀

How does Hyde feel about Elias?

He's generally guilt free about the whole "splitting Lanyon" thing and /gen likes Elias way more than he likes Lanyon lmao. He still gets that sorta bitter anger and resentment when he looks at Lanyon, but he doesn't get that with Elias. Hyde kinda thinks that Elias is all the best parts of Lanyon (Except for Elias's emotional sensitivity sometimes, but Hyde deals. He feels surprisingly bad when he upsets Elias..) But yeah, Elias is most of the reason why Hyde is complacent enough to actually kinda lay low after messing up Blackfog and stuff, so Jekyll certainly likes Elias for keeping Hyde somewhat in check lmao

And that's everything I have for this!!! Thank you so much for the ask :D

[hanasnx]

Satoru fic thirst🙇🏻‍♀️

For example reader was just going to bring Satoru something he forgot (his coffee or something idk) then it ended up with them having office sex while he puts his fingers in her mouth to prevent the sounds 😈

Btw ur works are AMAZING

being an exhibitionist i bet he wants ppl to hear you. he wants people to know what he’s doing in here—who he’s doing. he might make you suck on his fingers but it’ll be completely devoid of the need to shut you up. in his words, he wouldn’t dream of stifling you. also thank you <3 i had fun writing them

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Coming super late to the ship ask game, but what are your thoughts on Adrielle/Mayrina or Talli/Jaheira? 😁

YES and YES

Adrielle/Mayrina

What made you ship them? It had definitely crossed my mind but this fic you may have heard of naturally turned it all the way up to 10/10. Also Adrielle is so gorgeous that I will throw her at literally anyone tbh.

What are your favorite things about the ship? The entire concept of the Hag Support Group is so charming to me; it's one of the few side quests I always do in Act 3 even though that Ethel fight makes me want to vomit blood. Truly all it needs is a little romance! And it is very romantic, a love that is a safe harbor after surviving a storm. It also of course involves my favorite character in any situation, a Sad Wet Cat Woman (Adrielle) and I like Mayrina, truly some dude off the streets, being the leader and hero of the pack.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? Impossible to answer for basically all these ships but this one especially, as I have never seen Adrielle even mentioned in fandom except for us two and I believe I have seen one (1) fanart of Mayrina. That's the unpopular opinon. Philistinism smh

Talli/Jaheira

What made you ship them? When I bebopped around the Last Light Inn for the first time, after shitting bricks wandering the shadow-cursed lands for like an hour because I couldn't find it somehow and I'm a colossal pussy when it comes to horror, and being gobsmacked to discover the oasis of MILFs therein. The wheels were spinning but then Talli said "If you're alright with Jaheira, you're alright with me" instantly made me go "GAY"

What are your favorite things about the ship? Two Harper officers, called to arms by the greatest crisis in a hundred years. It looks cold in the shadow-cursed lands. They can't show doubt, they can't shiver in front of the young'uns that look up to them... but perhaps they could keep each other warm, sometimes. Talli naturally has feelings-catcher written all over her so it doesn't end well, but was it worth it? I think so...

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship? What other miscellaneous commentary do you have tangentially related to your ship because this question is N/A? idk I was very pleased at the response to my Talli thirst drawing, always happy to let people with good taste know they're not alone

[lilyreallyreads]

A guide to all of my Owl House fics bc I have too many lmao (pt2)

Owl family!! <3 a collection of fics containing different people in the owl house found family ☺️☺️

These are also all one-shots ranging from 1,000-3,000ish words. I have commitment issues, clearly

Calamity jr(s): Eda has to get her pesky kids from the principles office. Looks like some witchlets have gained her thirst for chaos. Eda, Luz, Hunter, Raine and King are all in this :)

my words shoot to kill when I’m mad (I have a lot of regrets about that) : Luz is struggling. Eda and Hunter provide a lot of support. Angst with a happy ending.

homecomings: Eda, Luz and King being reunited. Written before s3. I love them!!

breakfast and bickering: Eda and Raine trying to parent their three chaotic kids (Luz, Hunter and King). It’s so family fluff

a place to go: Luz has a nightmare and receives comfort from Eda and Raine. This is just them being an incredibly loving parenting duo. A lil bit of Raeda moments sprinkled in.

a moment’s rest: after s2ep19, everyone is reunited at the hideout. Raine and Eda talk while the kids sleep. Eda ranting about her kiddos and Raine is falling more and more in love with her <3

saving you (is to save me): Luz gets injured in the final fight. Eda and Camila have a talk while she sleeps, mother to mother. I LOVE CAMILA SO KUCH EHSJKAKAJW

just a kid: Camila and Luz centric. mama Camila holding her little girl who needs it so much.

Luz & Friends (or girlfriend)

home is not a place (home is you): Luz has a hard day at school. Her friends remind her how much they love her.

on my way to believing: Amity centric, focusing on her overcoming her fear of love and familial issues.

won’t let you bear this alone: Post s2 finale. The kids are all struggling. But they have each other, and that’s something. angst!! Angst!!

Major character death lol

I have an unhealthy obsession with major character death. It’s so fun to write. Devastation is truly a gem to write

slipping through my fingers: luz is petrified. Eda is dealing with grief. it’s just sadness 😀

my arms (for you to rest in): Luz is dying, she knows that. The process of death through her eyes.

I think that’s all of them. Prob idk

[thirdrootwriting]

Fics I want to Write - FFVII edition

Babysitting AU

Cloud and Aerith time-travel back into their 6/7 year old selves, WITH the caveat that though they have their adult memories, they have the planning skills, abilities, and emotional regulation of a 6/7 year old. (i.e. not great)

Note: still willing and able to cause SO many problems, but unable to actually fix anything with their short arms and baby brains.

Should feature: Vincent (no memories) actually solving all plot points in the bg by going off what the these weird babies and Chaos are saying

Tseng freaking out, bc he think aerith has been kidnapped. Possibly teaming up with Vince, recognizing him, and freaking out more.

Genesis freaking out bc a DEMON dropped off BABIES in Wutai, told him and his friends to babysit, and now Angeal is getting bossed around by the tiny brunnette while Sephiroth refuses to put down the tiny blonde that keeps threatening to stab him.

-

Here’s how Healthy Polyamory Representation Could Have Saved the Timeline

Fudging Crisis Core timeline a bit, but Zack starts dating Cloud and Aerith back b4 shit hits the fan re: Crisis Core. Obviously bc, he loves and looks up to Angeal, he introduces his new bf and gf to his mentor. Zack also mentions how nice it was to have, like, a good role model also in a poly relationship.

Angeal (aware on some level that his personal relationships are trash fire disaster): haha, thanks.

Later, that day angeal bursts into his apartment ready to drag his husband and boyfriend to couple’s therapy by the roots of their over-producted hair if he must.

Genesis: we don’t need that. We have a perfectly healthy relationship with great communication

Sephiroth (genuinely surprised): We’re dating?

Genesis: .... fine, we might need it a little.

IDK, these three idiots get kicked out of a LOT of therapists’ offices. but they do eventually communicate and problem solve. meanwhile zakurith(?) are cute in the bg.

-

Time Travel for the Temporally Orientated

Sephiroth, time travels back to pre-Crisis Core; he is too busy dealing with severe mental whiplash (can’t decide if Jenova’d him was right or if now-him was right; really disorientating to be un-hiveminded and not kinda-dead) to solve or cause any problems. Fortunately(?) he is acting so goddamn weird anyway that he accidentally makes the timeline better whilst navel-gazing. A comedy of errors featuring:

Picks up cloud as an apprentice, but makes zack train him because 1 of the few things Seph can make up his mind about is that he respects/misses older cloud and thier fights. To literally everyone else though, it looks like Seph picked an apprentice he dislikes? why? thoughts vary

Genesis is DETERMINED to get to the bottom of this. he does not. But he does (1) make friends with cloud, (2) become Intense Magic Rivals with Aerith, (3) become frenemies with Zack, much to Angeal’s displeasure

Tifa and Zack become frenemies too, via being pseudo pen-pals to best friends in law. This version has Tension though, bc they kinda want to smooch each other’s SO

Side note, Aerith is having a great (and very bi) time; she is constantly texting Cloud pics of Zack and Tifa’s latest arm-wrestling/lifting/pull-up battles with heart emojis and thirst captions

Zack is putting off having a bisexual crisis, bc he dislikes Genesis too much to admit he’s hot and Cloud is busy being taken. He’s. putting. it. off.

The great saga of what seph’s phone background should be

Who is more Tired (TM) at any given time?: angeal vs. cloud

-

My take on Remake Fic

Sephiroth and Aerith argue from the lifestream / great-beyond via changes to the timeline.

Zack chapters: Saving a soul via compassion / Dying alone bc you couldn’t save anyone

Genesis chapters: Almost a good person, after a knock on the head (ft. cloud does in fact bite) / So much rage, I’m burning the world down around me

Tifa Chapters: Courage to Believe in Promises / Fear to Lies to Hatred

Cloud Chapters: Let me fully elaborate on my 2 am thoughts that Aerith and Seph mean parallel things to Cloud on an X axis and Tifa and Zack mean parallel things to Cloud on a Y axis

[wri0thesley]

omg wait no hold on I just requested overhaul but then I remembered your overhaul thirst post about him pulling a "curing hysteria~" as an excuse and thought I'd request something along that vibe (no oun intended). I think that'd fall under orgasm control, overstim? (hope this is okay!)

hysteria antidote - overhaul x fem!reader (4k)

seeing nothing but the same four walls every day of your life is playing havoc with your brain. overhaul thinks perhaps you're suffering from hysteria. he has the perfect cure for that.

cw: not sfw/minors dni. dark content!!! dubious/non-consent. captive reader. talk of death, blood, etc. medical kink, gloves, fingering, overstimulation, orgasm control. misogyny. mentions of pregnancy/breeding. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: idk the internet said the 28th of may was his birthday so consider this both a birthday fic and a fic to celebrate 6k followers, sorry that i am gross and horrible but tbh im having a great time <3]

You really don’t think it’s unreasonable for you to be going out of your mind.

Since the Boss was taken ill, and Kai – Overhaul, you remind yourself, though he’s always just a little less sharp with you when you trip over the new name than he is with anyone else – took over leadership of the Shie Hassaikai, you’ve been pretty much stuck indoors.

Considering that you’re pretty sure he only has fond feelings towards maybe three people in the entire world, including you, you guess you ought to feel special about it – but all it actually does is make you feel like a trapped bird, caged and restless. It doesn’t help that all of the other members of the organisation have started being weird around you; people who you’ve known most of your adult life, people who you’ve worked beside and killed beside and done other horrible things beside (for the good of the organisation, of course)--

But now, they look at you like you might break at any moment. They treat you like an invalid. Their brows crease when they see you out and about, quietly murmuring; “Shouldn’t you still be in your room?”, avoiding touching you at all costs. There’s a kind of fear in their eyes, that they’re going to be told off for even speaking to you, that they’re afraid of being caught close to you.

And you know exactly who’s to blame for that.

You’d tried to speak to him about it, once; you’d thought that perhaps he might be amenable to your desire to do something to help the Shie Hassaikai. He’s always wanted to restore them to their former glory, after all! But after you’d let out your little impassioned tirade, his eyebrows had creased over the bird-mask.

“You don’t sound well,” he’d said to you. “Go back to your room. I’ll talk to you about it later.”

You had missed, at the time, that he hadn’t said ‘we’ll talk about it later’. He’d just said ‘I’ll’. When he had come, that is how it had been; the reassurance that he was keeping you safe. That he didn’t want you to be tainted. That he was keeping you well.

Your quirklessness has never been an issue before, but it certainly hasn’t been a boon. Still, for Kai--

“It’s disgusting,” he’d said, agitated by the discussion. You’d stared at his hands, thinking about the destructive power he himself wielded. “Quirks are a curse, and you not having one is just proof you’re not infected.” He’d looked up, golden eyes piercing directly into yours. “I’m going to keep you perfect.”

Overhaul is not a doctor, for all of his talk about illness and disease and plague. You think he could have used his quirk for something meaningful, once; but you also know that his burning curiousity, his disgust of anyone who deems tainted, his utter lack of morality . . . those are all things that would not have been welcomed in the medical profession. So instead, he deals in needles and pills and altering drugs in the underground labyrinth of the compound.

Sterile rooms, with examination tables and scalpels and impersonal, silver-grey equipment. Pill boxes that rattle when he passes them to you and tells you to take three of those a day, one of those, that one has to be taken to with food--

The idea that you won’t take them doesn’t enter his head, and though he has never . . . overhauled someone in front of you, you have walked past other members of the organisation mopping and disinfecting blood and gristle from sterile flooring.

It is better to go along with him, so you take the supplements and the pills and submit to the way he grabs your chin in gloved hands on the doctor’s chair, tipping your face up to shine a light into your eyes and watch your pupils dilate. But inside, you are screaming.

You’re not made to be locked in one room, occasionally allowed out to pace the hallways of the upstairs – never the underground ones, not any more – with restless footsteps and your muscles fizzing with desire to taste fresh air. You’re not made to stare at the same walls and breathe the purified air and think about how empty the compound is, now that Overhaul is in charge of everything--

(Too many knick-knacks attract dust. Pollen allergies act up, if there are too many plants, and he hates hearing people sneeze. Furniture should be easily movable and barren, to assist in the twice-daily cleanings of every room that people walk through.)

But it’s getting too much for you. Suffocating. You feel like you’re choking on air all of the time; you take the pills, because the thought of what he could do to you is terrifying, but sometimes you wonder if perhaps it would be better if you didn’t.

You’d woken up that morning to the sound of rain hitting the high windows in your bedroom, and you had longed to go outside in your thin nightwear and spread your arms and taste the air, smell the rain, feel it hit your body in fat droplets. Your entire being had ached. You’d tried to distract yourself, with what little there was in the barren prison cell that you called a bedroom – but when the door opened at four thirty exactly, and Kai had stood there with his face as impassive as ever, you had not been able to stop yourself.

Hand fastening around his upper arm (you shouldn’t touch him, you know you shouldn’t, but the same four walls are getting to you), you’d begged him;

“I want to go outside.”

If anyone else had touched him like that, they would already be splattered against the walls and floor. But all you get is a furrow of his eyebrows, careful fingers (gloved, of course; the latex against your skin always makes you shudder) pinching at your hand to get you to let go of him.

“No,” he says. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“I don’t care,” you’re petulant, you know, frustration bubbling up in every cell of your body. “If I stay in here for one more day, I will tear myself into pieces.”

“You’re being over-dramatic.”

“Kai—”

“Don’t call me that.” His rebuttal is sharp. “You know I’m doing this for your own good.”

Your face twists into something ugly. Overhaul hates it when you do that; hates the way your brow wrinkles, your mouth moves, your normally lovely face (one of very few he can bear to look at unmasked and not feel as though he is going to get sick from merely breathing the same air of you) marred.

“You’re not,” you hiss at him. “You’re doing this because you’re fucked up! Because you’ve got some weird fucking ideas about what’s clean and what’s unclean, because you’re on a power trip, because you don’t care about other people--” Your voice is pitching and modulating, all of the things that you usually try and keep balled up inside of you spilling out that the floodgates of how unhappy you are is open.

You’re breathing heavy as Overhaul, clearly irked by what you’re saying, tugs at the wrist of one of his surgical gloves. If he’s going to kill you, good – at least it will be better than this, you think, your breath coming in short sharp pants after the outburst.

He lets go. His hands fall to his sides. His golden gaze on you is very level.

“You’re hysterical,” he tells you. An exasperated laugh falls from your mouth.

“Yeah?” You ask him. “Of course I am. Do you know the last time I breathed fresh air?”

“Seven months, two weeks, three days.” He says it without blinking. Your shoulders tense. Has it really been that long? “You haven’t been ill once in that time. The world out there is filthy.”

“It’s normal to get sick,” you try and tell him, but Overhaul is moving forward; past the doorway, and into your room. The door clicks shut behind him, the sound of a lock ominous. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with Kai in your bedroom.

In the medical examination rooms, sure. In his office. In common areas, back when he was just the boss’ troubled protege and not the boss himself--

His eyebrows twitch in disgust as he notices the dust on your bookshelves. You’d stopped letting any of the cleaners in here a month ago; you’d refused to clean in the mean time, taking whatever small victory against your captor that you could.

“You’ll give yourself respiratory issues,” he says.

“Good,” your voice is cold, but you realise you’ve backed away from him. For all of your attempts to stand up to him, you’re terrified. Everyone knows what he can do. “Better dead than here--”

Gloved fingers around your wrist, so tight you can practically feel them bruising.

“You don’t mean that,” he says. His voice has gotten softer, cajoling. You’re trembling in his grip. “I told you. You’re hysterical.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” you say, but your words feel like you’re spitting them out around a mouthful of gravel. “I—I’m calm--”

Your knees knock against your bed, but Overhaul is still clinging to you; still too close. Your heart is beating so fast that you can hear it pounding in your ears.

“You’re not. You’re hysterical.” He repeats it, calmly. The hand not on your wrist reaches up and cups your face, a gloved thumb stroking across your cheek as if you’re the most delicate thing he’s ever touched. The scent of the latex is overwhelming. “But that’s alright. It’s not your fault.” He clicks his tongue behind the mask. “It’s mine. All of this checking for the physical sickness, and I didn’t think about checking your head.”

You fall onto the bed as his knees knock against yours, your back hitting the wall. It’s just a plain, single bed; rumpled sheets, because you’d fought against any attempt for someone to come in and collect your laundry, too. Overhaul looks silly in your room, you think dimly; like a huge black crow in the nest of a small, frightened wren.

“If you fight,” he tells you, “I’ll disassemble you. I’d rather not. I don’t want to taint you by using my quirk. But . . .” He’s sinking to his knees in front of you, those same methodical hands pushing up the skirt of your dress. “If I did, I’d get a blank mind to work with. I won’t hesitate. But I’d still rather simply fix you without having to break you into pieces first.”

You know him too well to think that he’s bluffing.

After all of the vitriol you’ve spat at him, he’s unwilling to kill you. Would it be worse, to be mindless and brainless under Kai’s quirk? You’ve heard some of his failed experiments before; babbling, drooling, broken things. He’s killed them sometimes just to put them out of their misery.

What if he did that, and your mind remained perfectly capable – just utterly unable to communicate with your body? A prisoner in your own skin. Worse than even now. You swallow back the lump of fear.

“H-how are you going to do that?” You ask him.

You start at how cold the gloved fingers are on your bare thighs, as Overhaul pushes them apart. Cold fear prickles down your spine. You’re too scared to fight back, but everything he’s doing is making you want to run.

“Did you know,” Overhaul says, those same hands sliding higher, to tug at the waistband of your underwear. “In the past, there were rumours that doctors would cure hysteria by genital massage and stimulation?”

His words are very clinical, but there’s a thickness to his voice behind the mask that fills you with revulsion.

“It might be nonsense, of course,” he says. Your underwear is being tugged down, pulled around your thighs, your knees, your ankle. “They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth--”

“Kai—” Your voice is a soft whine, fear-filled. This time, he doesn’t snap at you for calling him by the name he’s left behind. He simply says;

“Spread your legs.”

You don’t want to. But you want to risk what he’s threatening you with even less, so you tearfully open them as wide as you can go. He shifts forward, and the tip of the beaked mask digs into your inner thigh as he studies you like you’re nothing more than a diagram, not a living, breathing person--

“Next time I’ll have lubricant ready,” he says, under his breath, and your heart seizes up at the implication that whatever he’s going to do to you, there’ll be a next time.

You start at the sensation of gloved fingers gently parting the lips of your sex, Overhaul’s golden eyes drinking in the sight of you spread open and bare. You’re shaking, but for some reason the way he’s looking at you – the utter concentration in his eyes – makes a curl of heat flare deep inside of you.

“Don’t,” you breathe, trying not to squirm. “Please--”

“I don’t want to have to,” he says. His tone remains calm, unbothered. “I’m doing it for your own good, you know that. Just helping you along.” One finger slides through the slit; the sensation of the gloves against your most intimate, heated parts makes the muscles in your thighs clench. It’s . . . not exactly unpleasant, but neither it is pleasant. “Do you think I’m getting any pleasure out of this?”

He doesn’t like getting his hands dirty. You know this; everyone knows this. If this particular thought was so unpleasant to him, you don’t doubt he’d have found somebody else to do it (the thought of one of the other members of the Shie Hassaikai doing this to you fills you with even more revulsion than the idea of Overhaul himself). But you can’t say that out loud. Not after what he’s threatened. So you press your lips together and shake your head, gasp dying in your throat as one of Overhaul’s latex-covered fingers prods gently around your opening.

“You’re getting wet,” he tells you, as if you can’t feel the shameful slick beginning to leak from you. “That will make this easier. Good.”

You hate that the praise makes another jolt of arousal go through you. You don’t want to like the feeling of his gloves, rubbing at your heated cunt; the sensation of a fingertip circling around your entrance, brushing the bud of your clit and making you want to clamp your thighs around his hand.

He sinks the tip of one finger inside of you and you jerk, your hips out of your control as you try and sink away from the intrusion. Overhaul clicks his tongue again in annoyance at you. The hand holding the lips of your cunt open moves, to land on your hip and pin you between the bed and the wall so you can’t squirm again.

“I’ll sedate you next time, if I have to,” he says. “I’m not getting anything out of this. I’d prefer not to have to do it at all--”

He’s lying. You know he is. But you can’t call him out for it, so you press your trembling lips together and try to stop tears spilling out from your lash line as the finger inside of you sinks further and further inside, past his first knuckle, right down to the base.

He crooks it inside of you and your hands curl into the bedsheets, nails digging into your palms through cotton. His touch is curious, exploratory; has he ever actually done this to anybody before? He slides over a rough patch inside of you with the latex-tipped finger and a moan escapes your mouth against your will, your head falling back against the wall. Narrowed golden eyes look up at you as he repeats the motion; taking in the gloss of your lips, the widening of your eyes, the way your shoulders are shaking up and down.

You can feel yourself pumping more slick out; helping the glide of his finger inside of you, as he begins to carefully thrust it in and out of you. His touch is made all the more impersonal by the mask obscuring everything but his eyes and eyebrows; you can’t even hear him breathing.

Your cunt is fluttering around him, pleasure swarming you in breathless waves as he withdraws his finger entirely. He lifts the glove to his eyeline, looking only vaguely interested in how the white latex glimmers with your arousal.

“I’m going to use two now,” he tells you – and that is all the warning you get before two fingers beside one another are opening you up, scissoring your tight channel apart with an ache that you feel up to your hips. You bite back the whimper, but you’re unable to stop the choked breaths that are falling from you as he fucks you with them in steady, constant thrusts.

A covered thumb brushes your clit; swollen, now. Sensitive. Standing to attention. Your hips attempt to jerk in his hold once more, a strangled noise that’s neither pleasured nor pain falling from your throat. You’ve touched yourself, of course you have – even recently, just to try and assuage some of the boredom that fills your exactly-the-same days – but Overhaul’s fingers and thumbs and touch on you are so entirely different from that.

He continues his assault over your clit, those same eyes watching you with that same detached, clinical disposition that he’s had most of the time. There’s a cast to them that suggests there’s something more, but whatever emotion – if, indeed, he’s still capable of that – he’s feeling about having you at his mercy in this way has been pushed to the back of his mind as his thumb rolls and pinches at the bud.

Your body goes all-over heat, Overhaul’s fingers still pumping in and out of you, the slick noises of your shaming wetness echoing around the prison of the four walls you’ve spent seven months in. You’re teetering on the edge of something, hot and needy and wanting – and as Overhaul’s thumb sweeps over your poor aching clit again, you tilt your hips forward for as much stimulation as you can--

And he pulls his fingers out of you.

The heat fades into nothingness as you let out a noise of disappointment. Overhaul’s head tilts to one side, considering.

“What do you want?” He asks you. “Say it.”

No. You don’t ‘want’. He’s wrong. You keep your mouth pressed tight now that the damning noise has fallen out of it; you have managed to not let the tears trembling in your eyes spill forth. Your gaze meets his, defiant and tired and afraid all at once.

“Alright,” he sighs. “If you’re going to carry on being difficult.”

He does it again; his fingers plunging into you, scissoring you apart, rubbing against your folds with a practised agility now that he’s done it for the first time. He has always been a fast learner; always been observant. His thumb is back on your clit with ceaseless assault, and all over again you feel heat begin to build up; tension that crawls into every crevice of your being and worms its way deep inside you despite how badly you don’t want this.

The hand holding your hip loosens somewhat, allowing you to messily thrust your hips into Overhaul’s stimulation. You’re torn; you shouldn’t want to hump against the gloved fingers stimulating you, you should be wriggling and squirming away. But it feels so good; even with the skin-tight covering of rubbery latex, Overhaul’s fingers seem to find every one of your weak points and exploit them.

There it is again, building up on you; a ball of tension in your stomach being gradually wound tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment. Your hips flex against his hand, your fingers clenching and unclenching on the bedsheet--

He denies you the peak of your orgasm for the second time.

And a third.

And a fourth.

“Kai--!” You’re too far gone to even think, after the pleasure has been pulled from you so cruelly, over and over again. The tears spill over your cheeks., rolling down in fat, shaming droplets. Overhaul’s eyes narrow.

“No,” he says, vehement – more emotion in his voice than you’ve heard all day. “You know what to call me.”

You know what he wants you to call him. You know that he wants to leave his old name behind, start again, be someone who can drag the Shie Hassaikai out of the shadows and into light and power once again – and he thinks that the name will help. You gurgle out a sobbing, strangled noise;

“O-Overhaul, please--”

Three fingers are plunged as deep inside of you as they can go, crooked to rub against your sweet spot; as Overhaul murmurs, detached but soft;

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

They thrust into you, his thumb rubbing your clit with firm, certain strokes – and this time, as the orgasm rushes up on you all at once, he doesn’t stop. He fucks you with his fingers through it, his thumb not ceasing the circling. Pleasure washes over you, finally, in great waves and crests. You feel yourself gush on his fingers, soaking him in your wetness (his eyebrows furrow again, at how close your fluid comes to spilling over his bared wrist; but you are too relieved to think about anything other than finally getting what you need).

Your hips flex, gasps falling from your mouth with every thrust of them – and you expect Overhaul to pull his fingers out of you. To stop touching you. Perhaps to strip off his gloves and put on a new pair – you know he always carries spares – and sneer at you as he walks out of the room.

But Overhaul’s fingers do not move from inside of you. The fierce rhythm of his fucking and petting and rubbing does not stop, even as the final aftershocks of your orgasm clench loosely about him and his constant stimulation becomes more of an annoyance than anything else on heated, sensitive skin.

You squirm, trying to push your thighs together to get him to stop touching you – but the hand not fucking you forces your thighs to stay parted with the curl of fingers into supple flesh, leaving you helpless to do anything but let him carry on touching you. Carry on fucking you.

A short, sharp shock of an orgasm rips through you as he swirls his thumb over your clit just so, and you realise that you’re drooling down yourself as well as panting; helpless and sloppy, utterly unable to do anything except lie there and take it until Overhaul decides he’s had enough of touching you.

You come, what? Twice more? Thrice? Until the pulsing of your channel is painful, your skin feeling red raw, your whimpers into the ceiling dry and broken. Only then does he pull his fingers out of you with a lewd pop.

A gush of your fluid that his fingers were stoppering soaks your bedsheets, and you watch, dazed, as Overhaul stands up. He looks down at you for just one moment, that stretches unbearably long in the heat-and-sex soaked atmosphere of the room.

He strips his gloves off of his hands, eyebrows twitching in disgust as he leaves the crumpled latex on your bedside table. He’s sliding on another pair as he speaks;

“Feel better?”

No. No, you don’t. You feel worse. You feel disgusted and violated and aching, your body over-stimulated and exhausted, sweat and drool and bodily fluids clinging to your skin. But if you tell Overhaul that--

“Yes,” you say, voice very soft and small and weak. You cannot see his mouth, but you see the way his eyes flash happily, the overall sensation of him smiling.

Why does Overhaul’s smile make you so scared, when Kai’s smile used to just make you feel warm?

“We’ll need to do it a few more times,” he tells you, as your blood runs to ice in your veins. “Such maladies aren’t cured in a day, after all. But . . .” He turns, rearranging himself carefully, his mask readjusted. You can’t see him as he speaks the next words. “I’d like to try some of the other suggested remedies, too.”

You think of his earlier words.

‘They theorised that the best cure was regular intercourse, male semen, pregnancy and childbirth.’

You’re never going to escape, are you? You’re going to be trapped in this compound until the day you die, and Overhaul is going to think that he’s keeping you safe--

“Take a shower,” he says to you, as he opens the door. It is not a suggestion. “And stop not letting the maids come in here to clean. I’m not having you get sick.”

You think he might be the sick one.

[leetotters]

I saw your requests open can you write maybe a hc with professor!chris evans

Bonus points if reader is a cheerleader! i barley see ones with cheerleader thx😚😚

first chris fic, kinda happy its professor!chris also i made reader a cheerleader but idk what the hell is required for it other than the basics! also the reader is over 19+ and chris is about 40 (huge age gap) please don't read if it is a problem!

professor!chris evans x cheerleader!reader

summary: something like request^

you were your university's cheerleader captain, you had good grades, optimistic attitude and well a great ass personality

chris was a middle aged professor, unmarried, his once soft brown locks now silver, his skin slightly wrinkle but damn did he age like fine wine.

most people at your college spoke about the hot history professor, even you, girls would swoon over him during classes not paying any attention to the new topic he would be teaching, their eyes drinking in the sight of him as his muscles flex pointing the board.

chris knew about the foul comments his students made about him, he knew how some of them would stay back after class attempting to seduce him to go in bed with them, he knew the girls wore revealing clothing trying to catch his eye, he knew he was a hot man for his age.

yes, you were one of students who thirsted over professor chris, but you were weren't one to actually seduce the man, you did make impure comments about him but tried to keep them earshot from him, you wore outfits that suited your style, revealing or not, you wore it for yourself.

professor evans was a man of class, not giving in to his horny students throwing themselves at him, he would sometimes chuckle, proud he still had his charm from his youth days to attract others, sometimes he would be grading his history exam papers and would see his name with hearts around it in the corner of the page.

but professor evans had a little secret of his own, a little dirty secret that would probably make him get fired from his paying job, professor evans had eyes for someone and that someone was coincidentally one of his students, yeah, all that class of his is gone when he sees that one cheer captain strutting into his class, her hand holding college colored pompoms and her little cheerleading uniform.

y/n l/n was the name

professor evans would occasionally glance at you in class, you always sat in the fourth row with a few of your friends, to his dismay. he would flash you his pearly smile whenever you answered a question or asked, you were his best student, his best girl.

chris would sometimes stand afar watching you practice with your cheerleading team going through your warm ups and routines, he always got flustered when your skirt would raise showing him more of your smooth thighs

the things he would do to you if he just had the chance he thought to himself more than often, but you wouldn't be intrested with a middle aged man like him..right?

chris leaned back on his chair, checking his watch once more, boredom creeping up on him as he marked some of his students essays, he let out a loud yawn grading the last paper of the second set then going on to the other.

a knock was heard from the other side of the door awakening chris from his sleepy state, 'come in' he shouted groggily, rubbing his droopy eyes thinking who the hell was here at six in the evening

you peeked your head inside, smiling shyly, professor evans eyes darkened a little when he saw you enter, his eyes immediately raking your body, you were dressed in a satin y/f/c pj shirt and shorts, making chris adjust himself at the sight of your bare legs.

'oh y/n, what brings you here' chris inquired resting his pen on his desk and folding his arms pointing you to the seat right across his desk.

you sat down, not really sure yourself why you walked all the way here to his office, 'i'm having a bit of trouble with the new assignment you gave us sir' you lied fiddling with your fingers on your lap from his intense stare

chris grinned nodding his head before speaking, 'trouble? miss l/n, you're top in my class and i'm pretty sure you aren't here to discuss about this assignment' he folded his arms across his chest, the grin still plastered on his lips.

'no sir i'm not' you shook your head, standing from your spot circling your way around his desk to the back of his chair, placing your arms on his shoulders feeling him stiffen up from your touch. you massaged him, rolling your thumbs over his neck then lowering your lip to his ear, 'i came here to see you sir' chris inhaled deeply when the three lettered word left your lips.

'i see the way you look at me' you spoke voice low, licking a strip of his ear, hands still working on his shoulders up to his neck, 'i see you looking at me when i'm practicing' you nibbled his earlobe, teasingly moaning, 'i see your eyes on me during your lessons' you pulled back spinning his chair around, straddling his lap, locking your arms around his neck giving him your alluring smile.

'and i like it sir' you finished, toying with the silver baby hairs behind the nape of his neck, biting your bottom lip and staring up at chris, his green eyes were wide, he slowly leaned in, waiting to see if you would retreat, only to have you smash your lips together with his, your hips grinding on his lap as his hand found a place on your waist raising the material of your body.

chris drew back, his large hand cupping your cheek brushing his thumb under your eye before pressing his lips to yours, slipping his tongue in exploring the insides, 'so fucking sexy y/n' chris groaned, pushing his face between the valley of your exposed breasts leaving soft kisses on both hardened nipples

you hummed still moving your hips on his crotch trying to relieve the insufferable ache between your thighs, 'fuck me sir, fuck my tight pussy, i know you want to' you pleaded, so close to your orgasm that you used chris shoulders to keep up your balance to reach the end state of bliss.

chris thought seeing you in your cheerleading uniform was hot, but this, your orgasmic state was far from that, your lips were parted, nose scrunched and eyes shut as you came in your shorts, your squeals bouncing off the class walls as your grip tightened on chris shoulders.

'fuck doll, you just came by grinding on my lap' your professor spoke his voice dark, his hands kneading the rotund flesh of your covered behind, 'imagine when i actual fuck you with my thick cock' that made you whine automatically, at the mention of his cock.

you were about to respond with a snarky response but a knock to the door made both of you and chris freeze, 'professor evans, may i come in' a high pitched voice asked, surely one of his students who wanted to be in the position you were in a few seconds ago. 'uh just a minute' you quickly slipped your pj shirt over your head, adjusting your moistened shorts getting off of chris lap.

chris pressed his lips to yours once more before letting you go, 'mhm doll, come to my office tomorrow, right after class' he unwillingly pulled back, 'wear that cute little cheerleading uniform of yours too' chris squeezed your waist releasing you from his grip leaving you in a blushing state.

'will do professor' you winked walking out the door swaying your hips sensually knowing his eyes were on you.

-

part two here!

[laurentspup]

Hi! How are you? It's been a while since you've posted a new chapter to your beautiful fic and I wondered if you would continue it? 👀 No pressure though, I just can't wait to read it again! Take your time 💞

HIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!! Ummm lol I'm sorry for disappearing. I know it was going to get busy with a job, an internship, and school, but I thought I could still write the fic in between it all.... apparently I was wrong haha.

But of course I will still continue it, it's just taking longer to write because of life. But this fic is my baby and is constantly on my mind 24/7, but I also have other things in my mind 24/7. Idk when the next update will be up but I'm writing it always.... just... I want more for it.

Finally thank you so much for loving the fic T-T. It's really just you know a lighthearted thing inspired by a song and I need to remind myself not to take it so seriously because it's not!!! It's just fun!!! (and that's also been my problem with writing lol.)

Anyway can I interest you instead in a tiny sneak peek of the next chapter??? hehe

New Bitch: Chapter 4

Laurent’s phone stops ringing for a second, then two messages pop up.

‘I know you said to call, but you didn't answer, which is valid after I disappeared for a whole week.

So hi. This is Damianos Vallis. Please answer my call???’

Laurent reads it once. Twice. And maybe more than three times, with a smile growing on his face. He’s not sure it’s Damianos, he hasn’t heard from him in a week, nor does he know his number. This could be anyone, even from that text. But Laurent hasn’t given his phone number to anyone recently, nor does anyone know he has been close enough to Damianos.

This could really only be the real Damianos Vallis.

Still, Laurent doesn't reply immediately. He waits and continues to watch the movie playing on the television as if the man he has been pining for a whole week isn’t there on his phone waiting for him.

Serves him right. He should feel how it feels to be ignored for a week.

But Laurent can’t really wait that long, can he?

When Laurent thinks the time he waited is adequate enough –about thirty minutes– he opens the message again.

Laurent: Damianos Vallis? You’re playing. He’s a busy man.

Of course Laurent is salty. Again, he didn’t hear from Damianos for a week.

Damianos: I’m sorry it took me a week. I can explain if you answer my call.

Laurent: How do I know you’re actually Damianos?

Damianos: I can prove it.

Attached to his message is a selfie of himself, a tiny smile on his handsome face. His eyes aren’t as bright as Laurent remembers, and his face looks thinner too. He looks like he hasn’t slept or eaten for a week. Laurent’s heart reaches to him, so close to dropping his salty act, but he doesn’t. He must be stronger.

Laurent: Anyone can just take a selfie of Damianos from the internet.

That is actually not true. Damianos doesn’t post or take selfies at all. When Laurent says ‘thirst traps’ on Instagram, it’s simply Damianos with a shirt on, arms crossed and biceps out and flexed, with his family or friends. But damn did he look good in them.

Damianos doesn’t answer immediately which worries Laurent, but he reels in the part of himself that wants to send a text again and take it all back. He’s finally regained Damianos’ attention, he doesn’t want to lose it that quick. But it’s a game, and he has a good feeling Damianos won’t stop pestering him until he gives him attention too.

A few minutes pass when Laurent’s phone finally vibrates. He opens it immediately, then he finds himself staring at another picture of Damianos, this time with a wider view. In the picture, Damianos holds an iPad showing the time and date. His eyes are wide and eyebrows are up as if saying ‘Look, it’s really me.’

Laurent notices that he’s in an office, though Laurent doesn’t know whether it’s at his home or the Ios Corp. building, but it’s obvious that Damianos is still at work. He must have been aching to talk to Laurent. Good.

After admiring Damianos’ beautiful face for a few more seconds, Laurent replies.

Laurent: Oh you. Damianos Vallis. I remember you. Glad you still remember me.

And because Laurent can’t help it, he adds more.

Laurent: We’re still friends?

Damianos: Yes we are. You’re really important to me.

Fuck, he really knows how to play Laurent without effort.

Damianos: I’m sorry for being gone. Please let me call. I want to explain.

[ackermans-freedom-inc]

Yoooo after that tattoo submission... Tattooed Levi?? Could be for Thirsty Thursday, too. Like just tattoos turning reader hella on and she likes tracing them during/after sex or smn. If otherwise, maybe like reader wants to get a tat? Or Levi's getting his first one? COULD BE OTHER WAY AROUND TOO FOR EVERYTHING. Like Levi being a lil hoe for reader's tat or somn 👀 YOU CHOOSE IDK

MY CAT FRIEND!!! Here is this monstrosity of a fic that took up almost all my time to thirst...Pls enjoy (; 

Not gonna tag this as thirsty thursday bc its mostly plot but still...v spicy. (I also apologize in advance to Star - somehow we had fics on the same day that had the whole “mine” thing so IM SORRY I WASNT TRYING TO DO IT AT THE SAME TIME O GOD)

Moot: Fake court! It’s like real court but staged – can be a part of a competition to see who can come up with the best arguments to a legal question, or just for fun!

Summary Judgement: dismissing a case before it goes to trial

My friend: what opposing counsel calls each other in court

Receiver General: the entity that takes and makes payments to the government (like for taxes etc)

I think that’s all the vocab…pls hit me up for more vocab if there’s something you would like explained!

((Continuation of my lawyerAU series – read THIS for all the deets, but basically, reader is in mergers and acquisitions, Levi is a senior partner of Tax, and shares Hanji as a legal secretary between himself and reader.  Erwin is the managing partner; Petra is his secretary. Mike is another lawyer, his secretary is Moblit.))

_____

Moot

The whole firm was abuzz, all the practice groups and their partners and senior partners gathered around the in the massive library at the firm. Where the desks usually were was now empty, save for a podium, a judge’s stand and a chair for the witness.

It was moot day.

A rare occurrence at the firm to begin with, the associates and first years got to see the moots happen around once a year, but this time. This time would be special.

Levi was for the plaintiff, and everyone came out to watch him moot. The man rarely went to court these days, most of his cases either getting dropped by opposing counsel when they realize who he was or settling for a more than fair amount he would negotiate. Not many people got to witness his performance in court, but if Erwin’s recounting of their law school days were anything to go off by, Levi was an absolute powerhouse.

The poor bastard that started this, was Jean. He was an associate, a good one at that, but had gotten a little cocky after landing a client. Yes, the client was a family friend of his, and yes, they called him ‘Jean-bo’, but they were a client, nonetheless.

All the other associates had gotten tired of his constant bragging that he was the best associate of the bunch and had ruthlessly put his head on the pike when it came to moot nominations.

Oh, the way the blood drained from Jean’s face when he found out he was Crown counsel against Levi. It truly was a moment to behold.

The two days to prepare were barely enough, even for Levi. He buried himself in books, research, and caselaw, sometimes asking you to help research. You did of course, happily. Anything if it meant you got to witness him demolish Jean in court.

Even just thinking about it had you rubbing your thighs together, the electric wave of desire shooting down straight to your core.

This morning, you had awoken without Levi beside you, and for a moment, you were shaken – until you realized he had left early to prep again. Clothes laid out for the day for you were on his side of the bed, and you knew your outfit would be matched perfectly to his tie. A little note lay perched on top of the hanger, “Sorry for waking up alone baby, I’ll make it up to you. See you at the office.”

He always knew you so well, your heart on your sleeve when it came to your feelings about him.

A look at the dress that was laid out, and you knew you had a better choice. Ignoring the cold of the floor, you walked over to your closet, taking out a dress, still with its tags on in from the corner, tucked behind some shoeboxes. It was a big day after all, maybe it was time to raise the stakes for both sides.

You walked into the lobby of the building, the security guard at the front desk already calling the elevators and authorizing your floor. You tried not to think it or notice it, but it seemed you were the centre of attention. Your heels clacked against the marble floor, your hair was freshly washed and fragrant, your jacket draped loosely over your shoulders, and the dress. The dress accentuated your figure in just the right way, hugging where it should. You felt hot, confident, and like you could take on the world.

Too bad you were just watching the trial today.

Hanji caught you putting down your bag in your office, returning some files and flicking through the messages left on your office line and checking your computer for any important filing dates that could not be missed and any client appointments. Your usual daily tasks could not be forgotten, even if your handsome devil of a partner was just down the hall, setting up his arguments.

A low whistle from your secretary had you blushing. They had noticed. A coy smile was all you replied with, leaving Hanji to cackle at their desk, wiping tears of mirth.

They walked up to you, holding your shoulders to admire the garment. It was a full black dress, a zipper spanning the front of it, at a tasteful angle.

“Does this…?” they asked, pointing to the part of the zipper you had undone, exposing some tasteful collarbone.

“Yup! Unzips all the way.” You winked.

“You’re going to make poor Jean choke on his opening arguments, and Levi rush through his closing statements just to get you home!”

“That’s the idea Hanji!”

You replied to a couple emails, set some dates with Hanji for client meetings and as the trickle of people making their way to the library started to slow, you checked your watch. Just about time.

Every time you stepped into the law library; it took your breath away. It was, had it not been for the dry volumes of case law that lined the shelves, you dream to own a library this large. Dark oak bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, coupled with those whimsical sliding ladders that helped you reach to the highest shelves made you feel like you were in a fairytale bookstore. The smell of the volumes and the gentle flick of the thin onion paper made you almost miss law school. Almost.

But today, the books were not the centre of attention. Today, all eyes were on the two men who were sitting beyond the bar. Levi on the right-hand side of the empty judge’s seat, and Jean on the left. Petra was playing the role of the clerk, and Mike was standing on the side, acting as bailiff.

Associates, other partners, and just about anyone else at the firm was sitting behind the bar in their seats, switching their phones off. You lost yourself for a moment, bowing to the crest of the court as you entered. You forgot you weren’t really in court, but your body moved on its own, upholding law decorum even when you didn’t need to. You had taken your seat just behind Levi, keeping quiet as not to distract him, but he must’ve felt your presence because he turned as you sat down, eyes glancing at your face before narrowing, taking in the dress you wore. You quirked a brow, fingers reaching for the zipper before tugging it down a couple of teeth before pulling it back up. You were playing with fire, in a courtroom no less, but hopefully…it would be worth it later.

Levi tore his gaze from you, scowling a little while he tried to regather his thoughts. A peek across the at Jean, he wasn’t quite sure if he wanted to throttle the man, or you.

Jean had stars, stars in his damn eyes as he watched you settle in your seat. If he hadn’t been sitting at his desk, he probably would’ve fallen over or dropped his files by now as he gulped, eyes drinking in your form in that god forsaken miracle of a dress.

You noticed of course, and smirked, throwing a wink towards Levi. You really were in for it later.

Just then, Petra stood and walked away from her seat. When she returned, she held the door, voice strong as she announced, “Honourable Judge Smith presiding. Please rise.”

Shuffling and shifting in the room as all rose, Erwin sweeping into the library in his robes, before finding his seat.

“Court is now in session. Please note there will be no recordings of any kind. Please ensure phone and pagers are turned off now. You may be seated.”

Shuffling once again as everyone took their seats.

Blue eyes regarded the two men who sat in front of him.

Levi stood, approaching the podium at the centre.

“Ackerman, first initial L, counsel for the plaintiff Your Honour.”

Erwin nodded as Levi continued.

“The matter I bring forth today is one of summary judgement, on page 13 of your honour’s list of cases.” He paused for a moment to let Erwin flip through his papers.  

“Your honour, we are applying for summary judgement as my friend,” Levi gestured across the courtroom to a now queasy looking Jean, “has alleged my client failed to fulfill his obligations in paying to the Receiver General taxes for which the crown is owed. The basis for the summary judgement is based on the fact that my client did indeed apply for and receive a certificate that applied to the sale of his taxable property.”

Erwin nodded, thinking for a second before nodding to Jean.

“Counsellor, what are the Crown’s allegations?”

Jean stood, eyes flitting back and forth before he took a deep breath, voice surprisingly strong.

“Your Honour, what my friend has said is accurate in the sense that a certificate was applied for and received. The Crown is alleging that the certificate was not issued until well after the time limit of 60 days had surpassed post sale of the house.”

Erwin nodded again, turning back to Levi, who scowled.

“Your Honour, as per the Act, section 104 sub 3 states as long as the certificate was applied for before the time limit, it will be valid. This is supported by cases such as Jaeger v The Queen, Numbered Company v Attorney General.”

You squirmed in your seat, watching the way Levi held himself as he presented his case. Jean’s argument was good, but Levi’s was better. His cases were relevant, from high ranking courts that wielded more power compared to Jean’s cases that the frazzled man was currently trying to present to Erwin.

The words that came from Levi’s mouth in court proceedings were much different than the words he spoke in client meetings or with you in private. He was persuasive. So much so that you couldn’t help but agree with him, his logical reasoning flowing neatly from one thought to the next.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow him across the courtroom, even without a jury, he was commanding the audience that assembled, his confidence in his abilities making a familiar heat start to rise in your stomach.

By the time you looked back up, focusing onto Erwin’s words, he was giving his verdict.

“Counsellors, the arguments made today were well presented and persuasive. However, applying the law, I must find for the plaintiff. The charges do not stand.”

Looking back at Levi, he spoke again, “Any other matters Counsellor?”

Levi shook his head. “None your honour, I stand down any additional matters for today.”

Erwin looked to Jean, who said the same.

“Dismissed, court is adjourned.”

Erwin stood, and the entire gallery did as well, before he shuffled from the room. He almost immediately came back in however, this time without his robe.

He clapped a still somewhat green tinged Jean on the back, complimenting him on a job well done, helping point out some aspects of his argument that could be improved while the spectators clapped, whistles from the other associates and students making the man blush a little with all the attention. Even you shot him a thumbs up, making the man turn a bright red as he shakily gave you a thumbs up in return.

Erwin then moved on to Levi, smiling fondly at his old friend. “I expected you to hold back your punches Levi, poor Jean got no mercy from you.”

“That’s what you get. I consulted on the Act; it was an unfair fight from the beginning. Jean, you performed admirably. I was nervous for a second.”  

Across the room, Jean nearly swooned. Compliments from both the Managing Partner and Senior Partner were too much. All he could do was smile and thank everyone over and over again as a hand rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment.

“Alright you lot,” Erwin’s booming voice took back control and attention, “Get out of here, unless you have client meetings or cases to prep for trial, get out of here. Take an early day. You all earned it.”

Levi didn’t need to be told twice, already packing his briefcase. He strode past the bar, bowing to the court before he met you by where you stood, throwing his suit jacket over your shoulders.

You watched, nibbling your lips as he dropped his winged cufflinks into his jacket pocket which now hung at your sides before rolling his sleeves up. He knew exactly what he was doing to you. Revenge for your sexy little outfit.

His forearms were revealed with each flick of his wrist, and soon, our favourite sight – tendrils of ink – appeared into view as he took your hand.

“Let’s go home you little tease.”

~

Your fingers were at the buttons of his dress shirt even before your bodies were through the door. You kicked your heels off, not caring where they landed as you pulled Levi through the foyer and directly into the bedroom, his belt and suit pants coming off sometime during the frenzy.

Your hand came up to unzip your dress, but Levi swatted your hands away.

“Keep it on.” His voice barely above a growl. “I think I need to remind you of something that may have slipped your mind…”

His hand brushed against your cheek as he kissed it, “Mine.”

His licks and nibbles trailed over your jawline before he whispered in your ear, “Mine.”

His hand drifted down along the zipper of your dress, cold air making your nipples pebble as he revealed inch after inch of your supple skin.

“All mine.” He growled, grazing over your exposed and now goosebumped flesh

You could only nod in agreement, knees weak as you knelt on the bed, on all fours, your dress forgotten on the floor as you shed your now soaked panties.

“Please…” you begged, your wavering patience evident by the wiggle of your hips

Levi wasn’t about to bow to you, and you could hear the smile in his voice as his breath ghosted over your back. “Please what?”

“Counsellor,” you whimpered, something snapping inside you, “Fuck me.”

A grunt came from behind you as Levi’s hand found the perfect globes of your ass, still wiggling impatiently for him.

“Dirty little tease,” he scolded as you felt him rub the length of himself against your dripping folds, covering himself with your arousal.

“You going to be a good girl for me?” he whispered, the tip of his cock lined up against your trembling slit.

“Yes, yes, god Levi, please!” you begged, “Please please, I’ll be so good, take me, ta-aH!”

Whether he was at the end of his rope as well, or if it was your begging, but hands gripped your hips as he sank himself into you, the delicious stretch of him inside you never failing to make you throw your head back.

You needed more than just him inside you. You wanted him to move. You decided to take what you wanted from him, throwing your body back to meet his hips, your screams of pleasure muffled against the bedsheets as you leaned on your elbows.

Your moans were in line with each movement of Levi’s hips behind you, the way he angled his hips and the curve in his cock perfectly hitting that sweet spot inside that made you choke out his name in sobs.

You were so close, but you wanted more. You wanted mind-numbing, back-breaking pleasure.

“Le-vi…vi…more…more...fa-ah…faster!”

You felt the mattress dip as he planted a foot, gaining better leverage. When he reared back and plunged himself into you again, your arms gave out, your scream thankfully muffled as Levi hit some deep unknown part of you, your hands unable to do much more than fist in the bedsheets as you begged him to keep going, your orgasm coming any second.

His grip on your hips were bruising, and as Levi got closer to his own release, his hands moved to your ass, gripping a cheek in each hand, using them as a handle to keep plunging himself inside you.

He felt the first twitch of his release just as your walls tightened around him, wrapping him impossibly tighter and pulling him deeper into you. A rare growl escaped his lips as he shoved himself as deep as he would go, your spine a beautiful curve he knew would hurt the next day. He emptied himself inside you as your thighs trembled, barely keeping you upright. A hand around your waist and you found yourself on your side, muscles in your body still twitching.

By the time you caught your breath, the sun was casting its gorgeous orange glow through the window. The curtains were partly closed, but the light that filtered through illuminated the dark tendrils that decorated Levi’s skin.

Your fingertips traced them, making him quirk an eye at you before he shifted closer, letting you feel him.

Your soft touch travelled across his forearms, up his arms, tracing his biceps before you lost the trail of ink as it went over his shoulders.

“Why the pout?” Levi’s eyes didn’t miss a thing.

“Kind of wanted to see your tattoos while we were fucking…” you whispered, feeling another pang of desire.

“I think that can be arranged,” he chuckled, catching your hand and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Hey Levi…?”

“Mm?”

“What do you think of me getting a tattoo…? Maybe here?” You gestured to the space between and underneath your pert breasts.

Another dip in the mattress as you suddenly found yourself caged against the bed, Levi’s hands on either side of your head as he dipped his head for a harsh kiss against your lips.

“I think…I’ll fulfill that first wish of yours, and then when you get whatever it is you want done…I’ll make you have to take a day off work so I can thoroughly appreciate it.”

[klancefics-cache]

Uuhhhhh shamelessly self-promoting here, but I've got a few klance aus that are ongoing series! There's a Spider-Man au called Power and Responsibility, as well as a military au called Soldier, Keep on Marchin On. There's lots of different friendships in both, but they both have romantic klance. The Spider-Man au is more fluff than angst, though there is quite a bit of that, and the military au is the opposite. Plenty of angst with some fluff. There's also a Klance Anastasia au that I'm working on right now that'll be posted at some point this week (hopefully)

On another note, I'd like to rec one of my all-time favorite klance fics. Idk if it's already been done on this blog, but I highly recommend Surviving Space With Your Ex Fiance. It's basically a voltron fix-it rewrite where Adam was with the main cast from the very beginning. Technically, adashi is the main focus of the series, but there's enough klance moments that I personally consider it a Klance fic as well, which is why I'm reccing it. It's been very fun watching their relationship develop. Adam's characterization is probably the best I've ever read in a VLD fic, and he ships klance as much as the readers do 😂😂 but the writing is GORGEOUS, there's lots of family bonding between the whole space fam, and Adam is frickin hilarious. I can't even count the number of times I've snort-laughed over his sass

omg absolutely self promo here i’m all for it!! these sound really amazing!!! i’m reading the anastasia au next 😏

Power and Responsibility: a Klance Spider-Man AU by firedragonworks (firedragon32)

(works: 2 | 29,136 words | T)

A (mostly) true account of Keith Kogane navigating through teenage life with a part-time job of being a masked vigilante under the nose of his police officer brother and his suspicious future brother-in-law. He falls in love, faces criminals, ungodly amounts of schoolwork, and battles supervillains.

You know, a normal high school life.

But the mutants just keep coming, each more powerful than the last, leading to a terrifying and dangerous enemy. Will Spider-Man, with the help of his family and friends, be able to save the city from utter destruction?

Or will they all go down in flames?

Soldier, Keep on Marchin' On by firedragonworks (firedragon32)

(chapters: 9/? | 18,643 words | T)

The Galra have taken everything from her; her father, her home, her people. The terrorist known as Zarkon had slain her father, burned her country to the ground and salted the earth. But he forgot to take one thing: her determination, her patience. For years she bided her time, making preparations. And now she is ready to fight back. Because Allura is putting together a team, a group of the very best the Garrison has to offer.

A hacker with a hidden mission

An explosives expert just trying to support his family

A sharpshooter with a thirst for revenge

An assassin with a problem with authority

A soldier trying to escape his past

Allura's team are the only ones standing between the Galra terrorists and utter chaos. Only they can defeat Zarkon and free the enslaved countries under his rule; that is, if they don't kill each other first.

Life is a Road (That I Wanna Keep Going) by firedragonworks (firedragon32)

(chapters: 9/? | 28,850 words | T)

For the first time in centuries, the Galra and Altean kingdoms were united. Akira Kogane-Shirogane, the son of the late king and queen, was the symbol of this union. He, along with his half-siblings Takashi and Allura, were destined to rule the kingdoms when they all came of age.

But then everything changed.

A group of Galra extremists were determined to bring down the new regime. In a horrific attack on the palace, dozens of soldiers, servants, and nobles were massacred--and Akira disappeared. Shiro and the others fled to the safety of Altea. They searched for the lost prince for months...

...but Akira was never seen again.

Years later, an orphan boy chases the ghosts of a past he has lost. Keith has these dreams--elegant parties, eerily familiar faces, a warm embrace--and he's desperate to find where he came from. His only clue? A dagger with the inscription, "Together in Altea." With the help of a kind engineer, a snarky tech genius, and a smooth con man with a mysterious past, Keith may find the key to finding his family.

But dark forces are rising, an ancient evil that is determined to find the lost prince…and finish the job. No matter who gets in the way.

Surviving Space With Your Ex-Fiancé by subtlehysteria

(works: 8 | 541,523 words | T)

A (mostly) true account of Adam Wadekar's adventures as he tumbles into a 10 000-year-old war with Space Daddy (aka The Ex), their four surrogate children which includes a 14-year-old genius, a knife-wielding emo, a bi disaster who doesn't know he's a bi disaster and a ray of sunshine/Gordan Ramsey. They are joined by a badass elf princess and Space Nigel Thornberry as they fly their giant robotic kittens to free the universe.

Did he mention there are purple furries?

(shiro/adam)

[seijorhi]

asks :)

i love you guys 🥺

Acts of Devotion is now one of my faves. There's something about "setting the world on fire but never letting a flame touch her" kinda trope that makes my heart go doki doki. You did great Rhi! I'm telling you, you really did 😊 Also that tattooist Kuroo will now live rent free in my mind. Asdfghjkl. I'm crying. They're both BEAUTIFUL 💕 - 🍮

sgdgdhjfjfkflf thank you!!!! 🥺🥺🥺

question!! so i just read Bully and all of your drabbles (which were all wonderful shsihw) and i was wondering is iwa a yandere in the story too? if oikawa is a manipulative and obsessive yan, what kind of yan do you think iwa is?

i don’t wanna give too much away because i am intending to write more for bully soonish, but iwa’s kinda complicated in bully, he is protective and you better believe he’s possessive too, but you’ll just have to wait an see 😉

i am begging u to make that tattoo artist kuroo thirst a whole ass fic 😩

a bitch might be tempted 👀

I am cleaning out my likes and omg honey... You are like at least 90% of my recent likes and there is a clear demarcation line from when I started following u... It's responding to thirsts, ur drabbles, ur full fics (smut and implied), just being nice to ppl... I love ur whole blog so much?? It blows my mind omg 🙈 pls I love when ur active on here 💕 I hope your wknd has been wonderful and you got some beautiful sunlight over the past few days, you deserve a world bathed in gold, BD 💕🥰🥰

BBY!!! you’re so sweet ily!!! my weekend went far too quick, but i got some writing done which is always good - hopefully y’all will have two fics this week (do i say that every week? but it might be true this time) - i hope yours was good too! 💕 

oh to be rhi’s office coworker so we could discuss her fics all day 😔🤚

tbh i am very much a disappointment in person, much better online lmao 

There are moments when I read haikyuu yandere fics and I think I can write too, but then I watch episodes or videos on yt with them and I can't see anything but dorky kids having fun together.

How do you do it? 😭

i had a very long response typed up for this initially and i was worried that it came across as pretentious and preachy, so to answer in short - i always look at my yandere fics, even the in canon volleyball universe ones as au’s of sorts. i tend to take their canon characteristics - oikawa’s obsessive drive, the twins competitiveness and cocky attitude, kageyama’s perfectionism - and just twist it a little, make it worse and there you have your yandere character.

but there’s no right or wrong way to do it, and yandere doesn’t always have to mean knives out ‘i’ll kill you if you try to leave’ kinda thing. it could just as easily be an overprotective boyfriend who gets wildly jealous and wants to know where you are every second of the day, a friend who clings just a little too close, who likes it when it’s just the two of you, your stalker being the neighbour you spend two minutes talking to when you’re in the elevator. idk if any of this helps but 🤷‍♀️ if you wanna write it, i say go for it!

I really wanna buy one of those haikyuu hoodies but I literally don't know whose jersey/number to pick because I'm whore for all the captains (as everyone should be). And then, thanks to your writing Tendou, Semi (the musician backstage fic hit different), and Mattsun live rent free in my brain. So they're added to the mix too. Inadvertently, you're saving me money because I can't settle on one person - @ks350

you are very welcome bby. glad i can help haha 💕

Fushiguro is pretty tho 💕  

aint he though? low key in love with all of them tbh

Have you watched BSD?

i have not, sorry! 

Think you're gonna write a Gojo fic? - @ghostfromtheshoebox (it won’t let me tag you bby, sorry!!)

i’m considering it 👀

[pantstomatch]

Oooh can you rec me the best pirate fics? I know you’ve read them all!!

All right, so this took me a while, and I wish I had more of them, because pirate AUs are my favorite, and I know I’m probably missing some that I read and forgot to bookmark, but here’s what I came up with.  If anyone thinks of more, please link me! I LOVE pirate AUs.

Whose Sail Do You Fly Under? by ros3bud009  - Transformers | Deadlock/Hot Rod | "'What makes you think you have a right to speak to me at all, brat?' Deadlock interrupted, ridges raised as he gave the mech a once over. Small and painted bright reds and oranges like a candy, though by the way his optics flared with outrage, Deadlock would guess that instead of a sweet treat, this hot-headed morsel would have a mean kick.”  I know! you’re thinking ‘transformers? what?’ but somehow sentient alien robot porn is hot and satisfying.

Between the Devil and the Cosmic Sea by EatYourSparkOut - Transformers | Deadlock/Hot Rod | This is definitely shaping up to one of Hot Rod's better morning-afters. Sort of like an unofficial sequel to the other one, idk guys, I like it.

we're really bad eggs (drink up, me 'earties) by theappleppielifestyle - Avengers | Steve/Tony | “Your compass is broken,” he calls, and Tony leans over the railing to look at Steve before frowning. Cute, cute, the one where the compass isn’t broken.

Somewhere Over The Sea by thorvaenn | Loki/Thor | Captain Thor Odinson has a lady to kidnap. That doesn't quite go according to plan.  I think you can guess who he kidnaps instead.

Age of Sail series by pohjanneito, only one of them is technically pirates, but they’re all historical sea AUs! AND REALLY GOOD, so long as you don’t mind RPF. Specifically:

Boundless as the Sea by pohjanneito | Chris Hemsworth/Tom Hiddleston | Chris is a privateer and Tom is the young new cabin boy aboard his ship. UST and slow burn romance follows.

It Comes With a Crimson Wind by pohjanneito | Chris/Tom | Pirate/Age of Sail AU in which Tom is a high-ranking Naval officer and Chris is the captain of the infamous pirate ship Crimson Wind. Tom is determined to catch Chris after being humiliated by him and his crew, but sometimes first impressions can be misleading.

The Turning of the Tide by pohjanneito | Chris/Tom | Whaling A/B/O AU, but it’s on a ship! |Chris is the gruff-mannered first mate of The Tailwind and an alpha to boot. Tom is the eldest son of one of Nantucket’s most respected whaling families who believes himself to be a beta, but the harsh conditions and the close proximity to alphas in the crew bring something dormant in him to the surface… trigger warning for whale-killing details.

The Quality of Mercy by Rachel74 | Sparrow/Norrington | Captain Jack Sparrow is gifted a damaged James Norrington, by an evil pirate, that was a very bad idea on the part of said evil Captain, and so begins a journey. So in my thirst for pirate AUs, I’ve read A LOT of Sparrow/Norrington, but there were so many to wade back through I just picked this one... if you want more, ask.

A Ship Without a Mate Sinks by sarcasmandirony | Derek/Stiles | Stiles persuades Scott into checking out the old ship anchored by the docks, of which Derek is captain. Ok, I confess I haven’t read this one in years, but I remember liking it.

The Seven Seas by ZairaA | Arthur/Merlin | When pirate Captain Arthur Pendragon rescues a young man from the wreckage of a ship he admittedly sunk himself, he doesn't know he's just sealed his fate forever. Merlin is the most obnoxious loudmouth of a ship-boy Arthur has ever met, but he's also strangely intriguing. While the two exchange insults and keep saving each other's lives, they are inevitabley drawn to each other. The only problem: Merlin abhors nothing more than a pirate. Magical mpreg! With some nice h/c thrown in.

i still ache to know the song that he sung by eversall | X-Men | Alex/Hank | Alex only looks and dresses like the rakish pirates from the covers of romance novels; he's really more the swooning, pining maidens that pirates hold in their arms when it comes to Hank McCoy. Surprisingly sweet and funny, kind of ridiculous, a light hearted tale.