#and he simply wants one without the other sometimes

[eiightysixbaby]

eat your heart out

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

in which eddie masters valentine’s day through the art of eating pussy

cw: 18+ ONLY — SMUT oral (f receiving)

a/n: an early valentine from me to all of u. mwah mwah hope u enjoy ❤️

Eddie Munson doesn't really know what to do when it comes to Valentine's Day.

It's not like he's an idiot; he understands that typically a romantic dinner or a bouquet of flowers and some chocolates are the perfect show of appreciation and affection.

But those things are typically reserved for your girlfriend, and you're not his girlfriend.

But you're also, like, not not his girlfriend.

Eddie doesn't really know what you are, and that's the issue. It started off with you guys just hooking up. Late nights in his van parked behind the school or in a dark part of some neighborhood. Quickies in the bathroom during a break in Hellfire sessions. But it's slowly started to morph into... something else? Eddie isn't one hundred percent sure, but he's noticed that you come over more often, and you don't just want to jump his bones and leave.

Sometimes you guys don't even fuck anymore. Sometimes you invite him over just to watch movies, or he'll ask you to go for a drive with him. You hold his hand under the table when you go out to Benny's diner with the friend group, and Steve keeps waggling his eyebrows at him suggestively every time he catches you two sitting extremely close to each other. Which just makes Eddie blush like a loser.

And, every time you two are about to part ways, you look like you really want to kiss him before he goes.

And sure, you guys have kissed before. He's not about to hook up with you without at least kissing you stupid first. But this is different. You've been looking at him like you just want to kiss him, with nothing to come afterwards.

It all makes him sweat if he thinks about it for too long.

So for now, in the midst of his anxious unwillingness to ask you the horrifying 'What are we?', he's simply decided to show his appreciation for you on Valentine's Day with the one thing he's certain you'll love. He can deal with his feelings and stuff, later.

Your hand fists its way into his hair, fingers gripping his unruly curls like they're the only thing still tethering you to earth. His knees press into the worn carpeting of the trailer, his mouth latched to your cunt while his hands keep the fabric of your skirt rucked up at your waist.

You’re standing with your back pressed against the kitchen counter, your sneakers still on. He barely gave you a moment to settle yourself upon arrival before he was on you like a bad rash.

What can he say? When it all comes down to it, he’s a simple man, and you’re his favorite meal.

“Eddie,” you sigh, tilting your head back in bliss.

His tongue swipes its way through your folds before finding your clit and sucking on it. He can feel your body tremble, your knees nearly buckling with the overwhelming sense of pleasure.

His big brown eyes chance a glance up at you, at the exact moment you’re looking down at him. Your lips part in a moan, his tongue flicking rapidly at your clit, though he’s not sure if it’s that or the eye contact that forced the sound from you.

He’s guessing the latter, because something in your gaze feels different. The entire moment feels different.

Before, being intimate with you felt reckless, hot. Now it’s like he’s spilling every word he hasn’t said to you into the space between your thighs, hoping you’ll read his secret code. Hoping desperately that he’s not seeing this wrong, that you actually do like him as much as he realizes he likes you.

He needs to chill before he whispers an I love you right here on his knees.

He breaks your gaze after a moment or two, letting his eyes fall closed once more. He can taste how wet you are, he’s lapping up your arousal with every swipe of his tongue, and he honestly would kind of be okay with dying right here. His face is completely buried in you, nose bumping your clit, tongue on a mission to be as deep inside of you as possible.

You let your hips buck, nearly grinding on his face as he licks and sucks and bites, his ringed fingers squeezing the meat of your ass now.

“Eddie, ohmygod,” you cry, your white knuckle grip on the countertop keeping you from collapsing.

“What is it, baby?” he asks sweetly, kitten licking your sensitive bud before taking it between his lips and sucking.

That’s another thing, he’s started calling you all of these pet names lately. And the more he does it, the more he finds he doesn’t want to stop. He might actually be physically incapable of stopping.

“Feels so good, I—” you gasp at the sudden intrusion of two of his fingers. “I fucking love you,” you rasp out, your body reaching its peak at the exact moment the words escape you.

Eddie’s eyes shoot up to look at you, going impossibly wide. Yet he doesn’t stop what he’s doing, he brings you fully through your high until you’re shaking all over. Your words did nothing but spur him on, more determined than ever to bring you crashing down around him.

Only once you’ve come down do you seem to process what you said, and for a minute all you can do is stare at each other.

“Eddie, I—” you scramble, but he’s quicker.

“No. Don’t backtrack. Don’t do that,” he says, still on his knees before you. Still tasting you on his lips, still feeling you beneath his fingertips.

He rises to his feet, hooking a finger under your chin. You’re giving him that look again. The one that makes it seem like you want to kiss him more than you want to breathe.

And so he gives in. Lips smashing to yours, in a completely different context than any of the times before. He hopes you can feel everything he feels just through this kiss. Hopes he’s getting his point across.

The way you pull him flush up against you to deepen the kiss gives him the idea that his point was received.

Eddie Munson is great at this whole Valentine’s Day thing.

[dottowos]

hoc non est experimentum!

synopsis: Dottore’s segments are tired of waiting to take you for themselves and have decided to finally take matters into their own hands (with some reluctant sharing).

includes: four dottore segments w/ fem! reader

notes: You get railed by four of Dottore’s segments at once, that’s it, that’s the fic. Established relationship, they fight over you a bit, reader uses they/them pronouns, gangbang (Sigma, Beta, Alpha, Delta - see segments guide), oral (reader giving), handjob, titfuck, vaginal sex, one (1) gentle pussy slap, rough and soft sex, praise, creampie, consensual drugging (aphrodisiac), brief mention of consensual somnophilia, bit of dirty talk(?), aftercare, cuddle pile with the segments at the end <3. Minors DNI.

For as research-driven as Dottore’s segments appeared to be, they had their own desires and downtime they wished for - mainly due to a certain someone they all thought of dearly. That person was none other than you, their beloved, whom they all shared.

To them, you boasted the utmost loveliness - soft lips that spilled the sweetest of words and praises, gentle touches and caresses that soothed them - and of course, your alluring body that they couldn’t keep their hands off. For a long time, the segments had settled with regular touches like simple cuddling, hand holding, and even some thigh squeezing here and there, but needless to say, they desired something a lot more… heated than mere soft touches. But much to their dismay, you were… painfully oblivious to their advances.

It was indeed a bit frustrating despite their advances being rather straightforward, but you always assumed they were being extra touchy and clingy. Well, all of them save for Omega had this problem - the segments cursed that lucky bastard when he wasn’t around, they wanted their face between your legs too.

… Which was why they were at their wits’ end and had collectively come up with a sure-fire plan to fuck you.

—

When four segments appeared in your room together unannounced, without any arguments following them, you already knew something was up. They weren’t often seen together, except whenever they happened to collaborate on projects, but you had heard of no such thing lately.

“Beloved, we have something we would like you to try for us,” Sigma began with an even wider smile than normal, something you always took note of.

“Well… if all four of you feel the need to come to ask me, it must be quite important,” you replied, very much interested in what could warrant such urgency, not to mention the varying expressions across the segments - Sigma’s eager smile, Beta holding off his impatience, Alpha hiding his nervousness by acting aloof, and Delta’s continued seriousness, although his eyes were boring into you.

“See,” Sigma hummed, producing a vial from his pocket, “We’ve recently created this new… liquid. Of course, we’re interested in observing the effects it has on someone.” Although you understood the intent, you were confused as to why he couldn’t just test it on someone else, but Beta answered your question before you could say anything.

“You’re the only test subject we can test such a drug on,” his fingers drummed against the nightstand quickly, as if he was aching to pour whatever that strange liquid was down your throat already. Still, this only left you with more questions.

“What kind of liquid is this exactly?”

“An aphrodisiac,” Delta said bluntly.

An aphrodisiac, you thought. Aphrodisiacs… ah yes, you read about those in books sometimes. Aphrodisiacs… used to stimulate sexual desire. Aphrodisiacs… used to have sex.

… Wait. To have sex?! Immediately, you started sputtering and backing up.

“A-Are you trying to say what I t-think you are?! And wait, are aphrodisiacs even real? I thought they were fake!”

“Finally, you got it through that thick skull of yours,” Alpha rolled his eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if you were simply that dense or doing it on purpose. Seems as though it was the former.” Classic Alpha - his words always had some bark to them, although there was practically no bite as you always got your way.

“I mean…!! I just didn’t know all of you would be interested in me that kind of way-”

“Oh darling,” Sigma purred. “You’re too sweet for your own good. That won’t end well for you if you’re with us,” the segment slyly slid his hand down your thigh, making you gasp. You were already starting to have a tingly feeling between your legs, your mind racing with the possible scenarios they would put you in. Could you even survive taking four of them at once? Logically your mind said no, but your body was saying yes. Even if you couldn’t walk for a few days, it was a hell yes.

“Prime surely knows you’ve been fooling around with Omega, doesn’t he? Don’t I deserve some attention too?” Beta was the next to make his advance, hand tracing the collar of your neck, itching to sink his teeth into your skin. Your body immediately warmed at being called out for… ahem… certain acts with the older segment.

“He’s right. You were the one who said you’d give us all equal treatment. Or are you going back on your word now?” Delta added on gruffly, already knowing what your answer would be from when you very obviously squeezed your legs together.

“No, I would never…” You quickly rushed your words, heart racing from all of the segments so close to you, with not-so-pure intentions.

“At least try to relax,” it was Alpha who took some pity at your deer-in-headlights look. “The aphrodisiac should greatly increase your pleasure as well.” The other segments quickly peppered your exposed skin with kisses in an effort to make you comfortable as well.

“I’m okay, I was just… caught off-guard by this. But I want you all too… if you’ll have me,” you replied shyly, to which all of the men perked up. “Besides, I’m kind of interested to see if you actually managed to concoct a legitimate aphrodisiac.”

“Good… good. Willing test subjects are always the best to work with,” Sigma placed a kiss on your forehead before suddenly you were being maneuvered onto the middle of the bed. “Now before we test the aphrodisiac, let’s see that pretty body of yours.”

Before you could even utter a response, your clothes were being tugged off very quickly - but that was probably because there were four other people undressing you. In no time, you were nude save for your underwear, the cold air sweeping against you for a moment, but the segments’ warm bodies prevented you from shivering. All of them had their eyes trained on you - they had seen you nude before, having to attend to you sometimes, but it was obviously not in a situation like this, where you were laid bare and needy for them. Speaking of neediness…

Delta, whose chest was pressed into your back, pried your legs open despite your gasps and protests because you already knew your pussy was becoming an embarrassing, leaking sight. You whined as your damp underwear was on display for them all to stare at shamelessly, Alpha and Beta holding down one of your legs while Delta grabbed your arms, and Sigma let out a content sigh that was shared between all of them.

"So wet, and we've barely even touched you." Something clicked in the segment's mind as he held himself back from touching you just yet. "I think I know why. You're excited by the idea of being fucked by all of us at once, aren't you?"

“Of course they are,” Alpha scoffed. “They can never hold themselves back once they want something.”

“Give it to them already,” Beta demanded, who had already been palming and restraining himself, “before I fuck them right now.”

“Have some patience,” Alpha rolled his eyes. “We’ve barely just begun.” Normally Beta would have shot the segment an indignant look considering Alpha’s own lack of patience, but he was too needy for you to bother.

“If you’re out of breath just from this, I worry about how you’ll be able to take all of us,” Sigma teased. “But I know you will. You must be aching for our cocks, aren’t you, sweet thing? Burning for us to fill you up like the obedient toy you are?” Your throat had gone dry from how effortlessly filthy Sigma had become. Usually, his tone and words were always so sweet to you, but now he spewed such dirty things with that same gentle voice.

“Answer him,” Delta reached to give your breast a firm squeeze, which quickly elicited a response from you. Alpha and Beta quickly followed the older segment’s action, kneading the soft flesh with fascination.

“Y-Yes! I’ll be good!” You swiftly nodded your head to which Sigma chuckled.

“Good.” He then popped open the vial and gave it a little shake, watching the liquid swirl around. “Now open,” he grasped your chin and held the vial above your mouth, humming in satisfaction as you swallowed the aphrodisiac without a second thought (which, surprisingly tasted quite nice.) When a little bit dribbled down your chin, he quickly thumbed the excess and popped his finger in your mouth.

“Ah ah, now don’t you waste it. A lot of work went into this.” You could only blink at him, mouth ajar as you suddenly became very aware of the aching between your legs and your rising body temperature.

“It seems the aphrodisiac is already taking effect,” Alpha observed, tugging at your sensitive nipple. “Perhaps because you were already aroused?” Ever the scholar, he still questioned your reactions (or maybe it was a way to distract himself from the tightening in his pants.) But when he looked at Beta, the other segment was already slobbering on your breast, sharp teeth occasionally grazing your nipple to which you whimpered.

“You aren’t even trying to hide your true intentions…” Alpha sighed. After all, it wasn’t really an experiment (this time at least) but more so to satisfy the aching between their legs in the way they desired rather than resorting to their hands all the time. (There was a reason why they didn’t have a trusty clipboard…)

“Don’t act like you’re any better than us,” Beta scoffed, briefly taking a break from sucking on your tit. “You were more jealous of Prime than any of us.” Alpha only clicked his tongue in response before giving your other boob similar treatment as what Beta was doing. Delta, on the other hand, was busy kissing you and hardly giving you any time to breathe, making the other sensations all too powerful. You barely noticed his hiss when you unconsciously grinded your ass against his bulge.

Sigma watched your once cheery expression become half-lidded and lewd, before reaching for the band of your underwear. Even though your mind had gone elsewhere at his point, your breath still hitched at the feeling. Along with all the touching and the aphrodisiac, your underwear was so wet it was clinging to your cunt almost uncomfortably. Thankfully, the segment pulled it off and discarded it along with the rest of your clothing, haphazardly scattered on the floor. Instantly, the other segments paused whatever they were doing to gaze at your hole, entranced by your pretty pussy. 

You let out a moan when Sigma’s finger gently rubbed your opening, before slipping a finger in which you squealed at. Throwing your head back, you nearly kicked him were it not for the other's firm grip on your thighs.

“An exquisite reaction,” Sigma praised. “So sensitive… I wonder, is it because of the aphrodisiac, or has Prime been neglecting you lately?” The segment cooed before curling his finger inside of you, making your back arch. At your adorable reactions, the other segments simply couldn’t wait either. It wasn’t long before you felt another two fingers push inside you - but it wasn’t Sigma this time. Delta had quietly watched your pussy gradually become wetter, having the perfect view from behind you, and now he wanted to hear all the squelching your hole would make around his fingers. However, it seemed that Sigma had something to say about sharing your cunt with the others.

“Only I get to fuck their pussy today.” This bold statement automatically had the other three turning on him.

“Excuse me? And how did you decide that? I am going to taste them too,” Beta immediately rebuked Sigma’s statement.

“I’m older than all of you. Why would I not get to fuck them first?”

“Older? On what basis?” Alpha grumbled. “Sure, you may be closer to Prime’s age, but technically speaking, I’ve been around longer than any of you.”

“Well, it was me who came up with the idea of an aphrodisiac in the first place. I should get to go first then,” Beta piped in.

“And you would not have known that if I did not happen to mention their reading collection to you,” Delta cut in as well.

… They were really fighting right now despite being three fingers deep inside your cunt. That was simply wonderful (but expected to be honest). Normally you’d find it amusing but you just really wanted to come already.

“Stop fighting. You can have your turn next time,” you whined, wriggling around in their embrace, trying to get some pleasure from their fingers. 

“Oh? Already thinking about next time, are you?” Sigma chuckled before Beta squeezed your thigh.

“I told you that they wanted this. I bet [Name] has been thinking about this more than we thought,” Beta taunted you. “Dirty thing.”

“Regardless… I suppose I can let this one time pass,” Alpha huffed, (though he was actually pretty accustomed to being overshadowed by his older selves), and Delta grunted in agreement - although he was still going to finger fuck you. 

Now that that little spat was over, the two segments began moving their fingers inside you again, not exactly in unison though. Sigma was going slowly while Delta was plunging his in and out of you. The sensation was making your head reel and you could hardly notice the other two segments were already unbuttoning their pants. Tears sprung to your eyes as you dug your nails hard into someone’s arm - you couldn’t focus on who - that was sure to leave marks. 

Together, the differentiating paces successfully drove you crazy and you quickly came, juices running down their fingers. The sudden burst of pleasure, heightened by the aphrodisiac had you gasping and shaking, although there wasn’t much of that considering all four of them had a firm grip on you. You tried to catch your breath when a finger wiped the corner of your eye.

“Crying already? But hardly anything has happened yet,” Alpha observed.

“Leave them. It shows that the aphrodisiac is working. Not just one of your fantasies now, is it?” Delta teased you as he began to lay you on your back instead of his chest. You blinked as he rested your head on a pillow, wondering what was happening before you were suddenly very aware his cock was close to you, his underwear being the only barrier. Blinking again, you saw that the others were in a similar position, eager to come too.

“As much as I would like to play with you for a while longer, it seems like no one is willing to wait that long. Truly a shame,” Sigma sighed while discarding his pants as well. “But there’s always next time, right dear? Regardless, I trust you know what comes next.” 

You tried to formulate a response but you found your throat had gone dry at the fact that this was really about to happen.

“Don’t get nervous on me now. I know full well you can take it,” Beta was the first to tug his cock out, delighting in how you inhaled at the sight.

“I- I… um- mmph!” Before you could say anything, Beta’s hand rested on top of your head, the tip of his cock briefly nuzzling your cheek, before he properly parted your lips and thrusted into your mouth roughly.

“I thought I said not to be so rough to them at first?” Sigma sighed at his fellow segment’s action, before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in. The sensation made you moan around Beta, in turn causing him to thrust again. Though he seemed impatient, the truth was he was still restraining himself - his pace would have been harsher if he didn’t feel a bit worried for you.

Refusing to wait around, Alpha and Delta grabbed your hands and wrapped them around their hardened cocks as well, a sign for you to start stroking them unless you wanted them to do it for you. You were quickly swept into their pace, both of your hands being occupied in no time. You clumsily stroked them, seeing as it was hard to focus while being fucked, but the two segments seemed as though they were more than enjoying it. Perhaps they’ve been pent up for too long.

Alpha had already begun biting his tongue to hide his needy pants, his previous calm and collected words quickly dissipating. If only you weren’t being fucked by three other people, you’d have teased him for his whininess. However, the segment also used that to his advantage, suddenly squeezing your breast and rubbing the head of his cock against your nipple. The sensation against your sensitive bump had your back arching and legs flailing, although they were securely hooked around Sigma’s shoulders.

You could already feel Alpha’s pre-cum leaking onto your chest - it was already impressive he hadn’t come yet, considering what Dottore was like back when he was a student, coming hard after some light arousal (and then getting tired, you had to ride his face to get yourself off.)

The segment eyed your breasts with fluttering eyes and a heaving chest, seemingly trying to consider what to do next in his hazy mind, before grabbing your other breast and squishing them together with haste. In no time, he bucked his hips closer, slipping his aching cock between the soft flesh. You were warm - even more so due to the aphrodisiac - and your tits enveloped his cock better than he could have ever dreamed of. Not bothering to retain his composure, Alpha continued to clumsily yet quickly fuck your boobs, squeezing and pulling at them at the same time. None of the others had bothered to comment on it, considering they were all more interested in fucking the other parts of your body.

Meanwhile, Delta’s large hand was wrapped around yours on his cock, moving it up and down for you, unsatisfied with your pace. It was fast enough that you were sure your arm was going to be aching for a day, but you were also sure that applied to your whole body in general.

Still, this was all so much to take in, having both your pussy and mouth fucked at the same time at a bruising pace had your eyes half-lidded and struggling to keep up with the segments, seemingly built with endless energy, but a particularly harsh thrust from Sigma had you nearly gagging on Beta’s cock, to which the segment tightened his grip on your head.

“I thought you said I was being too rough?” Beta clicked his tongue at Sigma’s hypocrisy, and the older one merely smiled.

“I simply want to make sure they’re awake to feel my cock properly. Don’t you feel the same?”

“It doesn’t matter. They’d be happy as long as they’re being fucked. You wouldn’t protest at all, would you? Letting yourself be used even when you’re not conscious?” Delta hissed, and Sigma let out a sigh as you helplessly tightened around his own cock, clearly enjoying the filthy words.

“Ah, now there’s a grand idea. Darling, I’d be happy to discuss the possibility of nighttime visits, if you like it so much. It would be lovely to see you wake up to being filled,” Sigma chuckled, and you couldn’t even respond to him since your mouth was full of Beta’s cock. 

While the two older segments were busy teasing you, you could also feel that Alpha was close to coming. His pace had gone sloppy and he had lost his grip on your tits, instead just humping them pathetically. Beta was in a similar state, speeding up his thrusts in a way you knew he was about to come as well, and Delta was wordlessly getting as much pleasure as he could out of your abused hand. You could feel your own orgasm building up too, especially when Sigma moved to rub your clit. With a squeeze of your thighs, he relentlessly pumped himself inside you without stopping.

“Now,” he stated, “I’m going to fill you up, and you’re going to come on my cock. Understand?” You blinked at him through pleading teary eyes, and he laughed. “Good. Perfect, my love.”

Only a few seconds after, Alpha was the first one to let go, coming all over your tits with a low hiss, quietened by biting his bleeding lip. It spurted all over your chest, running down the hill of your boobs onto your stomach, and the segment was left panting, lazily rubbing his softening cock against your soft skin. The liquid only served to make you more aroused, squeezing your legs around Sigma’s neck as a plea to let you come already. In response, as a way of saying ‘have patience,’ Sigma flicked his hand against your cunt, finger catching your clit, and the light pain with pleasure nearly had you choking again.

As if that was the trigger for Beta, he too suddenly pulled out of your mouth, and before you could question what he was doing, came on your face, globs of cum streaking down your cheek along with your tears, some dripping down your chin and landing on your chest. You hazily blinked at the white liquid coating your body, before some more was added.

Without wasting a second, Delta let go of your hand and popped his cock in your briefly empty mouth before your poor throat could even have a chance to recover. It only took one or two thrusts for him to empty himself inside your mouth, doing so with a groan of pleasure, keeping your head locked in place, and only pulling out once he was sure you had swallowed every bit of his cum. The last few minutes left you gasping and moaning, your noises now clear for all in the room to hear - including the cries that left your lips and the mashing of your hole.

“P-Please, I’m- ah, so, so, close-” Your words had lost coherent structure at this point, trying your best to convey what you really needed.

“I know. I can feel you,” Sigma dragged himself in and out of you, making sure you felt everything. “You’ve been so good to us. Of course you can come.” Along with his ramming, he quickly circled your clit, until finally, finally, you came hard, rolling your head back and an unrecognizable squeal tore from your throat. The feeling of you spasming around his cock had Sigma digging his hands into your soft thighs as he filled you to the brim, only pulling out after a few moments. Gently, he pushed his fingers near your sore pussy, humming as you made a soft noise of protest, just to make sure none of his cum escaped your oozing pussy. 

As you lay there used and twitching, your cunt stuffed full of cum, and your face and chest painted with it, the segments took a moment to admire how pretty you looked like that. Beta stroked your head, as if apologizing for his fierce grip, although he made sure to gather up his cum and press it to your lips, smiling widely as you obediently parted his lips for him to suck on his fingers. 

“Looks like the aphrodisiac isn’t as strong as we anticipated. What a pity.” Alpha had tried to recollect himself after that embarrassing display of neediness as if he wasn’t also tired from coming.

“Is it really? I’d say it was quite powerful. After all, they took all four of us with hardly any complaints. It served us both well.” Sigma chuckled as he gently lowered your legs from his shoulders onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your thigh as he did so.

“It still could use some tweaking, however,” Delta stated. “I believe it hasn’t nearly reached its potential.” The segment had moved away to begin drawing a bath to clean you up.

“Regardless, you did exceptionally well,” Beta praised you with his sharp-toothed grin, and you only let out a soft noise of affirmation as you were lifted up to be cleaned.

—

The segments cleaned you up a few minutes after - you weren’t sure if your bathtub would fit all five of you but it did somehow. Surprisingly they were pretty cooperative, for the most part at least. Afterward, they changed your sheets and dressed you in some comfortable clothes.

“Here,” before you could react, some kind of syrup was being poured into your mouth. “For your throat,” Alpha said because a certain someone couldn’t hold back, although he didn’t say that part out loud. Sigma pulled your blankets up and tucked you in as well.

“What, are you all leaving?” You looked at them with sad eyes.

“We have been away from work for quite a while, love.” You pouted at his response as you tugged at his arm.

“You can’t do that. You have to stay at least until I fall asleep, all of you,” you stressed the ‘all’, reaching to grab Delta’s hand as well.

“[Name]-”

“Nope! I’m not listening!” You then pulled Alpha, who was the easiest to push around, into the bed with you.

And so, you now had the four segments cuddling with you, each of them touching your body in some way. Sigma and Delta were snuggled closely on each of your sides, but Alpha and Beta were left in the more uncomfortable positions, awkwardly laying on top of you and face cuddled into your chest. There were some grumbles from them but you quickly shushed them up. More importantly, you felt very warm and content with all of them holding you.

You had a feeling the four segments weren’t leaving you anytime soon, either.

[psychemochanight]

I need a fanfic where fanon!Dick is the perception his brothers have of him, and Dick simply accepts those ideas of him, without trying to prove otherwise.

Tim admires Dick, yes, but he thinks he'd set a computer on fire if he tried to turn it on.

Dick, being the one who helped with almost the entire Watchtower system, who hacks into different Intelligence Services whenever he feels like it, and steals files from the catcomputer whenever he needs something and doesn't want to ask for it, without anyone knowing (not even Tim).

Jason, admitting that Dick is very socially intelligent, but horrible at other types of intelligence, especially math and literature.

Dick, who was a top student who graduated from high school early in advanced classes and only doesn't pursue further college degrees because he is too bored to go to class, plus, he won every math competition he entered and was considered a genius by Bruce, Alfred, and his teachers. (And he read all the books in the mansion since he was little, but he is more fond of classic literature than modern literature).

Damian, thinking Dick is too soft, that he works on hugs and doesn't know how to set boundaries because of how kind he is.

Dick, who can be even more brutal than Bruce when required, who actually prefers his personal space most of the time (he does like physical contact, but not as much as everyone thinks), and that he has not only hurt people because of how strong his words are when he is angry, but he has gotten into fist fights with people to defend his own boundaries.

(He's still the one who knows Dick best tho, yes, he is too nice for his own good sometimes, but he's not stupid either).

And Duke is sure Dick can't cook to save his life because he always sees him eating cereal or just simple food.

Dick knows how to cook perfectly, he just likes simple food more and cereal is mostly because it is his comfort food and his need for sugar to keep going.

Not to mention everyone thinks he's a playboy, heartbreaker and all that.

No, (actually Tim had more partners than him, lol), and Dick is quite a demisexual, romantic person, who feels sick whenever something ends in a one night stand, because he feels that those things should be done with someone he loves. Plus, he really doesn't even like people complimenting him on his looks; even though everyone thinks he enjoys the attention, which is why his brothers send him thirst trap type videos made by his fans (both Nightwing and Dick Grayson's).

Girls actually believe some of these things too, but not to the extent that boys do.

It can also play on the fact that other people rather think that Dick has anger issues and is completely violent, or thinking that he was Bruce's nightmare when he was a child.

Extra points if it has a mention that he's the one who's actually addicted to coffee and insomniac, lmao.

[sunflower1experiment]

Children (Risk's Prequel 2.0)

pt1, pt2

Harley is so full of himself, sometimes dating him was like dipping your hand in a rose bush. Like him they were beautiful. charming, hell you even considered the relationship with him to be a thorn bush without the roses. But it was the day something happened in the labs, you went in and noticed the toys were crying? "What happened?"

You march by and comfort them, "What is wrong with them!?" The other scientist who fails to answer at first, backs away but then she feels you lean in. "What happened? Answer."

"You really don't know? Of course not, not when you're busy playing work wife for Sawyer." You glance at Leith, eyes filling with animosity.

"Mind running that by me? What is wrong with my children?"

"Ah so you claim them. Well, let me break it down, your children, they are not just toys. You of all people should have noticed the vast majority of the new high rise of emotions and tension between them and us." What is he spouting about!? You look at Stelle with a curious eyebrow quirk, she avoids your gaze and once more you return to Leith's cold side glance.

"Sawyer didn't....inform me..."

"Of course not, why would he want to break his favorite sentimental experiment's heart." It goes quiet.

The toys who coward behind you, look up as he leaves, as everyone leaves. You kneel down to study them, then your eyes begin to well up. "......Prototype was serious."

The little ones start to hug your feeble form, while you realize how terrible and naive you are the sounds of shoes fill your ears. "You, you're different..." A pink hand holds your shoulder, a long arm follows after and hugs you.

"No need to cry, Mommy's here." You look at this so-called Mommy, and realize why you recognize this voice, it couldn't be, not her.

"Marie Payne?" She backs up with a slight chuckle and the little toys cling to your hand sadly while Mommy stands on the ground, "So you know, or you did know. What makes you think you're different from them?"

"I'm not, I failed...I-"

"Then stop wallowing and do something!" Mommy's hand punches the ground, this was obviously Marie talking. You firmly nod but then hug the toys again, Banzo bunny, the mini huggys, Daisy, Cat-Bee, so many of these little ones.

When you leave the toys behind you take one more glance at them, Mommy watches with a somber stare, Harley took you for a fool didn't he? Or did he simply know how senstive you were.

You couldn't let these children starve, going back home, it meant missing dinner, breakfast, sure but they had to eat. Risking your job would be worth it regardless, Leith calling you an experiment was one thing but to be embarrassed by everyone? Over his dead body, whenever you returned to work with food, you'd just make a simple curt excuse, then place the boxes and containers down.

"What is this?" Mommy grabs the food, "This will feed you all, starvation leads to difficult actions. Now come on. We have to take care of the kids."

She was in shock, for you to get back up after a day, why weren't the adults who hurt her like you? Even if you played a role, the willingness to do better still prevails. Maybe, she looks at your lab coat while you feed the children fruits, "Maybe there are some good people."

It was a lot to handle, a bit overwhelming even but you didn't pull any punches, but when you met with Harley, you both were quiet. He was sent to sleep on the couch that night. Three days would pass, and he’d check on you, “Dear?”

“What did you do with those orphans I cared for?” Harley kicks himself, cursing Leith, Stella and Eddie. Those three were told to keep you away, how can he adore you if you know too much!? Your face of revulsion or disappointment, so he gently holds your hand, “What do you mean?”

“Harley, do not play dumb with me, you’re smart and that's what I love about you…” Of course, of course he should be honest…. “I, well Elliot said we should do this for the betterment of humanity, I’m simply following orders.” The audacity, you were there when he argued with Elliot and everyone knew he had anger issues. 

That was why you chose to avoid Harley but you both attracted each other, he was enamored by your genuine curiosity and adoration for simplistics, meanwhile he always had such charisma with that gentle tone, polite demeanor and fascination with anatomy. Were you in love with a facade perhaps? “So you knew, and didn’t tell me?”

 He didn’t deny the knowledge but to deliberately not tell you, why? So Kissy, her stress, Mommy, Huggy, and who else? Harley hated it when you cried, he knew when the tears fell that you’d rebel or probably not speak to him. Relationships were complicated, but you both communicated and that was what made Harley stay, yet this time he knew you’d speak your mind. So he did what he could to try and change the perception of the situation.”You know I love you, I would never lie.” 

His hand falls flat and he clutches it, your face wasn’t shedding tears but they looked disappointed. You then hold your stomach before hugging him sadly, “.....One more question, what did you do…with him?”

No, not him, not the boy… 

“Him?” That was the answer you needed, “How can I trust you if you won't even tell me the truth?"

Why? Why were you so sentimental!? Did you not realize the risks? No, of course not.

--

NSFW, CW and TW // Minors DNI (signs of pregnancy, intimacy for NSFW)

CW// Signs of emotional abuse, self-loathing, child experimenting, and abuse

TW// Slight suicidal thoughts. (If you ever feel this way, be sure to call a trusted friend/adult or the hotline, know that you are not alone, you are deserving of care and to be heard.)

"I'm sorry, I’ll make sure to do better..." You nod into his hand while his gentle gaze remains on you, he may be a liar but Harley knew he adored you, you’re perfect. His perfect experiment, the only one who understands him, the only responsive and reactionary force he wished to invest in after he was tired from his other sets of experiments. He slept in the bed beside you, his larger hands resting along  the arm while you remained in Harley’s arms, you were naive even when you held so much unconditional love for him. His lips travel to your neck, hands intertwined together in the moment where Harley’s lips touch, he notices how much your lips embellish his growing adoration. 

When things start to heat up, Harley is there, his arms will wrap around your waist while you admire him, those worry wrinkles, his gentle hands with calluses, and most of all his gaze. Bed creaking, your soft sounds of breathing filling the doctor’s ears whenever those hands of his would roam your frame. At some point he had a moment of lingering, a longing, and it makes him wonder what would you have done if he told the truth? Would you love him enough to fix things, perhaps give him a chance. It was wishful thinking on his end, especially when it comes to his lover. In the intensity of this heated moment between you both, he could feel your hands resting along his face or they’d move to hold him close. 

His deep chuckles and breaths, while you both share more kisses than one can count, Harley would let himself sink into your arms while he indulges in everything he loves. About you, it was strange to be in love with someone, someone of his intellect falling for you. A scientist with a bleeding heart and someone who was always willing to cater to him.

Harley would simply lose his mind at the idea of not being able to cradle your form, in life or death maybe but, he simply wouldn't allow it. Not when someone as perfect as you, could fit his standards of experimentation.

Every fiber of your being knew something was wrong, even after you began cuddling again, his grasp of you was firm with the iron grip. The way he’d kiss your forehead while you lean into his bare chest, “Hey....if Leith ever talks to you poorly, let me know…and, try not to worry about the toys. You should be focused on our work.” It goes silent, as you cuddle into him with a distant sad gaze, taking note of his slightly serious tone. 

“Okay..”

--

You lied, now you were worrying for the children more than ever, feeding them and then the visit to Kissy’s room, carefully feeding her you note the long gaze. Kissy slowly moves forward and then her slender arm moves carefully; she begins hugging you close. “It's okay Kissy, I’m fine.”

How could someone of your caliber be so naive and caring? Especially when she and these children rely on you, the only adult to make this right?

"So, you and Harley?" Stella tries to make conversation, you merely nod in agreement, even if he had to sleep on the couch for a couple of days. Somehow it always worked out, because you'd still feed him, tend to him, you could be angry right now and he's already slipping through those cracks and crevices. But when he was angry, he was never one to aim it at you but when he did, you'd offer a hug, some time alone or just to talk.

The thing is this anger wasn't ever aiming to you: his partner, but instead your coworkers who could feign innocent all they want, yet none of them were any better than you or Harley. That is why you hated your sense of morals; how could you date a potential child abuser? What if, he hurts....

"Mz.?" You startle when Stella speaks again, gently moving the Candy-cat toy so he wouldn't get hurt. "I- need to check on the children."

She frowns, "Hey, um...If...Harley is..."

"What?"

"You'll come to me if he does anything right?" Stelle asks, you pause then turn to her while she gives a somber smile to assure any form of Desolate emotions that threaten to spill out.

"Stelle, you and Leith know what he is doing. You never told me; we are no better than him and you shouldn't try to be of help when these children are being treated this way. The least I can do is comfort, nurture and love them." As your back turns to the woman who watches your retesting form she looks down, gripping the Zinnia while Harley, as if to mock her walks by with a Tuberose flower.

He places it in your vase, then looks to Stella, "You should focus on work. I'm sure you both will find a way to rekindle whatever friendship you had."

Whatever Harley told you it was obvious he didn't realize how much it would hurt you at the end, Stella saw the signs clear as day. She was your friend, easy to socialize with, but you always took the time to listen to her dreams and desire to care for the children. As you place more food down for the little ones, Mommy finally speaks again.

"I saw you with Kissy, she's being moved...further down, and... there are more...down below."

"Down, below?" Mommy couldn't help but scowl at your naivety, she felt sorry for you. ".....That boy, Quinn?"

What about Quinn? She tells you softly while you listen, her hands grip your arms to keep you from running. Being outraged, it was quiet...

Down below, Quinn, Marie, how many children...

One last thing to do.

You step into the lab, where Prototype remains. "gOoD tO sEe-E you, mY dEAr.." His metallic hands carefully hold your soft fleshy ones.

But you merely look away, he senses the hesitation to speak and realizes how much you knew. "s0 thE dOcTeR t-TRu-TRULY! Truly did fail, you know a lot but how much?"

Enough to where you were sitting before his creation, "I...I am not any better than him. I asked him to stop hurting you, he was...."

"Angry?" The experiment says in his voice to which you wince and then nod slowly, "Yes but it wasn't enough, you and I both know that." Prototype lifts your chin up.

"oF cOurSe."

"I'm sorry, I cannot apologize enough, I so badly wanted to think that, not everyone is truly a monster, and these children deserve the best....as many have said: Children deserve parents, but parents do not deserve children or deserve to even be parents. But I was truly naive, Mommy knows this." As the Prototype listens, he also twitches.

Harley was coming, so he gently shushes you and then points. You stand, grabbing the files but before you leave. You speak one more time, "Please do not hurt the children, and don't let vengeance cloud your perception."

With that you leave with the door shutting behind you, Harley walks in and notices the files. At first, he wanted to start a long lecture about his experiments being disturbed but you hand him the files. "Sorry, I wanted to help you work..."

Harley smiles at you for a quick moment but then you both go your separate ways, until you stop. "Harley."

"Yes?"

"Have you ever considered the thought of children?"

He pauses at the question, thinking of the implications of you having his child...the thought occurred to him during your intimate nights together. But he truly didn't see the resolve, especially when there are children surrounding you every day. "No, not when we have the Playtime Co. You and I are truly different."

It goes quiet and you leave, but not after chuckling to his little banter. Of course, Harley Sawyer is so full of himself. Very apathetic, very....

Foolish.

Sometimes, life felt like grappling at a thread just to see you survive, the more food you'd distribute the more guilt you felt.

The last straw was probably when you asked him to go down below. ".....Of course, is there a reason?"

"Of course, I want to see my partner's work up close." Harley couldn't help but crack a smile, he holds your hand, like always as if trying to form some sort of emotional power balance. Then his lips connect to your head, "I'd be happy to."

.....

What have you done?

[signanothername]

While, Murder is unable to be as sneaky or cunning as Killer due to him feeling 24/7, and getting replaced the most meaning most Murders are lacking knowledge compared to the other Killers or Horror, does Murder!Sanses frustrate Nightmare the most? You mentioned before that Nightmare likes control, and he can usually puppeeter Killers and Horrors quite well, but Murders are the most wild ones, and ones to not have any weak point for Nightmare to manipulate, since they cannot do crap to Dusttale, Murders' Papyruses are dead, so Nightmare doesn't any way to make them stay in line. What will Nightmare do? Torture him, it ain't like the human didn't already mentally or physically torture him, kill him, it would probably amuse Murder to make Nightmare snap like that. While, sure, Murders do suffer as seen when their escape attempt failed, they seem the most determined to not give a flying fuck about Nightmare's control, and test, disrespect or ignore it the most. Also you mentioned 'last Dust', does that mean that eventually Nightmare stop recruiting Dusttale Sanses?

I’d say yes and no

Nightmare does get a bit frustrated with Murder in general yes, but one of the reasons he keeps getting Murder under him anyway is not only a love for control (even when Murder makes it really difficult) but also because he finds it a tad bit amusing, he finds Murder amusing, for Murder to have this absolute fire spirit of defying him, is like playing a little game of control with Murder, the same he does with Killer

But the reality is, no matter how much Murder defies him, or escapes, or how he talks back, Murder is still stuck under Nightmare’s mercy, because the reality is Murder cannot always escape even when he attempts it, sometimes Nightmare makes sure to remind Murder of how powerless he truly is

So despite the fact Murder lacks clear weak points, Nightmare is still willing to take the long route to see if he could break Murder, take one in, entertain yourself with them, learn about them, apply what you learned to your next attempt, rinse and repeat

Nothing will change the fact Murder has a will of steel, but it also will not change the fact Nightmare still breaks him little by little, and if actually given ample time, Nightmare is completely capable of snuffing that fire out, but that’s the catch, he doesn’t, he makes sure there’s always a fire guiding Murder’s actions, because a Murder without a fire is just a useless broken toy that he played a little too rough with than he actually wanted to

Nightmare loves to see that fire within Murder, loves to see his defiance, loves to see him look him in the eye and talk back like he’s nothing, because it means that Murder is still thriving, still has use to him

Nightmare’s desire to break Murder, is not in the form of completely snuffing his fire out, but simply to keep him in line, to simply control that fire so he can manipulate it to do as he pleases, to guide it to where he wants it to go

A Murder without a fire is just Killer

A Murder with little fire left is just Horror

He already has Killer and Horror, he doesn’t need a husk of a Murder that just acts like Killer, or Horror

As for stopping the recruitment, yes, he does stop, but not just Dusttale variants, when Horror escapes and he kills the last Murder he had under him, he completely stops recruiting all together, this means he doesn’t get another Killer beyond Killer 5, doesn’t get another Horror, or another Murder, Nightmare stays within his lonesome in his castle for a very long time afterwards, it’s not a Murder problem, it a Nightmare emotional/mental problem

[shadamyheadcanons]

@shadowsfascination showed me this post from the Writing-prompt-s blog:

“Some say that an invisible red string is tied around the fingers of soulmates meant to be together forever. As it turns out, you can see these red strings, and have therefore created a highly successful matchmaking business.”

It gave me two brief ideas. The first one is a little more angsty and strictly involves Amy, while the second is fluffy and Shadamy-centric. They both have happy endings, though.

Angsty version:

Amy learns very early on about her gift, as it’s rare but not unheard of. She’s precocious about it; when she’s five, she’s prone to doing things like seeing happy couples with unconnected strings and bluntly saying, “You’re bad for each other.” Naturally, Amy’s mother is mortified by this behavior and urges her to stop doing it.

At first, this seems like a normal reaction...until one night at dinner when Amy asks, “Mom, Dad, why aren’t your strings attached? Mom is attached to the mailman instead.”

That’s how the truth comes out that her mom is cheating on her dad, which leads to their divorce. Amy blames herself, and her parents don’t do a very good job of convincing her otherwise. The resentment’s there, and she can tell. From then on, she resolves never to share her gift–her curse–with anyone for fear of ruining something else.

This continues until she hears two good friends of hers talking. One is trying to defend her clearly abusive partner, saying he’s “not always like that,” he’s “usually very sweet,” etc. And Amy just can’t hold it in any longer. She blurts out that they’re not meant to be together. The one she belongs with is the best friend who brought her in, the man who’s holding her as she’s speaking. Everyone’s silent for a moment, and Amy immediately regrets it...until six months later, when the two are dating and thank her for stepping in.

Amy embraces her gift at last and uses it to help others, becoming a matchmaker and relationship therapist. However, she spends just as much time “matchbreaking,” carefully working to break up couples who are bad for each other. She learns that sometimes, the best way to spread love is by ending ties that pull in the wrong direction, like pruning a plant of old leaves to allow new ones to thrive. It’s hard sometimes, but there’s no one who’s better at it.

Her mother never makes amends, but her father apologizes profusely for how he treated her when she was younger and introduces her to her new stepmom, thanking her for giving him the opportunity to meet her.

--

Now, the happier option:

Amy can see the strings tying people to their soulmates. Aside from aromantics like Sonic, who have little knots/bows on their fingers to show they’re complete on their own, everyone has a string...except for Amy herself. Hurt but determined, she decides to start a matchmaking business to spread love around the world in her own way, even if she can’t be a part of it.

Then, she meets Shadow, the only other person she’s met without a string. He brushes off her concern, as he doesn’t put stock in the concept and has reluctantly resigned himself to being a “dead end,” but Amy insists on trying to match him up with his soulmate all the same, as she feels everyone who wants a soulmate must have one. She finds it’s not so easy without the cheat sheet she’s had all her life. While getting to know Shadow and considering all the wonderful things he could offer as a partner, she can’t help but fall for him herself. Likewise, Shadow sees all the care and effort she’s put into bringing him happiness and fulfillment, the passion and devotion no one else could ever match. He doesn’t stand a chance, either. Amy takes the plunge and gets together with him even without that divine confirmation.

The truth of the matter, one that Shadow suspects, is that someone with the gift simply can’t see their own string, but Amy doesn’t need that validation to know she belongs with him.

[hard-core-super-star]

OWN MY MIND [wandanat]

pairing: top!wanda maximoff x bottom!natasha romanoff

summary: wanda's crush on natasha has grown to nearly unbearable levels. instead of pining after her, she decides to do something about it during a party.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! -> porn with plot; wanda has a crush and she's about to make it EVERYONE'S problem; semi-public sex; slightly obsessive wanda go brr; so much teasing; the clothes stay on because i say so; thigh-grinding; fingering [nat receiving]; neck kisses; i got hooked on the idea so there's a lot of expostion; shitty dirty talk; so much bickering

wordcount: 3.8k

a/n: I'M ALIVE! i did not mean to disappear again but life had other plans 😅that being said, I'M OKAY! i survived a very stressful january and my writer's block seems to be easing somewhat. every year i say i'll be more active on here and it doesn't always work very well BUT i'm trying! anyway, i hope you guys are doing well, my askbox is always open for you all. that being said, i hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

There wasn't much Wanda was sure of anymore.

At some point, she'd been sure her and her family were going to be safe. She'd been proven wrong the day a Stark Industries missile crashed into her living room, sending all her childish hopes of safety with it.

After that, she'd been sure she'd never leave her brother's side, even agreeing to become an experiment for HYDRA to guarantee their safety. Their powers had helped and even when Ultron appeared, she was sure they'd figure things out together.

That dream had instantly been shot down, along with Pietro and the remnants of her home, after Ultron's attack.

She hated thinking about it. About everything she lost. About the dreams she'd held onto for most of her life that were meaningless now. That didn't serve any purpose other than reminding her she was alone.

Sure, she had the Avengers now but...they didn't understand her. Not the way her brother had.

Clint tried his hardest to be there for her before he left to be with his family, do doubt feeling guilty over something that wasn't his fault. He wasn't to blame for Pietro's sacrifice and they both knew blaming him wouldn't bring the speedster back anyway.

In a weird way, though, the archer was the only one who truly understood her grief so when he left...Wanda did what she had always done. She retreated into herself, ignoring the looks of the rest of the team and Vision's borderline annoying insistence that she talk to someone.

She didn't need to talk about anything. There was nothing to talk about. Nothing that could change the pain she carried every day.

Nothing...except Natasha Romanoff.

Their friendship hadn't come out of nowhere despite how hard the older woman liked to act otherwise. Even without her powers, she knew Clint had been the one to push Natasha in her direction. It was also obvious that the Widow had no idea what to do.

It was weirdly charming.

Despite how hard she tried to act like she cold and heartless, Natasha cared. She cared a lot more than she wanted to. Especially about Wanda.

So, when the older woman started appearing outside her door at ungodly hours of the night, seemingly unaware of the tear that stained the witch's cheeks, and inviting her to train with her...Wanda decided trusting her wouldn't do any harm.

That much was true. No real harm came from getting close to Natasha. If anything, she helped more than anyone at the Tower had even tried. She didn't care that Wanda didn't want to talk about what happened in Sokovia, that her inner demons showed their face every night and left her with nightmares too intense to ignore, that her powers grew stronger every day.

The Widow didn't seem to care about the details. She simply cared enough to be there. Sometimes she showed up earlier, before any nightmares could haunt her dreams, other times she showed up later and with a tea in hand that she quickly offered to her. There were no words exchanged but she knew.

And that meant more to Wanda than she could even put into words.

Those feelings, though, quickly grew out of her control. It happened almost on accident, practically without thinking. All she knew is that one day she felt...drawn to Natasha in a way she hadn't noticed before.

To the curve of her neck, the flex of her biceps, the tension in her jaw when she throws a punch. All the little details came together and left her feeling far too confused for her liking.

Confused and yet far too in control.

And to say Wanda was slowly becoming obsessed with control would be an understatement.

This flurry of thoughts is what leads her to do something too far out of her comfort zone. It's a shitty idea, she knows that, but when Vision off-handedly tells her of the party Tony will be throwing later that day, a plan slowly starts forming in her head.

A plan that involves a certain redhead and the confusing feelings that settle low in her stomach when they're alone together. Of course, she's not a stranger to desire, she knows what her feelings really are, but that doesn't mean she's exactly okay with them. With the suddenness and the intensity of her thoughts. Of the fantasies she longs to make a reality.

She's just as patient as she is stubborn, though, so she waits. Waits until the party is in full swing, until she's all dolled up in her favorite dress, paired with the leather jacket she never gave back to redhead, and then she strikes.

It must look weird. It certainly feels weird, stepping out into the crowd instead of avoiding everyone in her room. She has to step out of her comfort zone if she wants to go after what she wants, though, and she's determined to sink her teeth into Natasha before the end of the night.

Thankfully, she doesn't have to wait long for her opportunity.

As soon as she makes her way into the bustle of the party, she scans the room for the Widow. She finds her by the bar, chatting with Tony and Rhodey with a drink in hand.

Even though she wants to waste no time, she decides to linger. To let the anticipation build and see how long it'll take Natasha to bite. It's both torturous and enticing. A borderline perverted mix of longing that makes her heart threaten to burst out of her chest.

When Natasha's eyes finally meet her gaze, she sends a soft smile her way before pretending to be incredibly interested in her drink. It's a cheap strategy, she knows that, and yet it's one that works in her favor.

She only has to wait a few more minutes before the Widow untangles herself from Tony's drawn-out (although probably annoyingly entertaining) story and makes her way over to her.

"I didn't take you for a beer girl," she says, raising a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at her.

"There is a lot you don't know about me," Wanda replies, her accent coming out strong. It's half on purpose and half on accident. It tends to slip out easier when she's around people she's genuinely comfortable with.

And Natasha is right at the top of that list. Even if she doesn't fully know it.

The Widow lets out a soft huffing sound in response. It's not quite a laugh, but there's an edge of fondness to it that neither of them can fully ignore. It's not every day she allows herself to be so unguarded.

"You're pretty and witchy, what else is there to know?"

The teasing remark only makes the younger woman's smile grow wider. "Does that mean you think I'm pretty?"

Wanda accompanies her question with an alluring tilt of her head, watching in amusement as Natasha takes a long sip of her drink to avoid answering. Even if she doesn't say the words, she's been caught red-handed and the witch couldn't be happier about it. Maybe her sudden desire for the woman isn't as one-sided as she'd allowed herself to believe.

"What are you even doing here?" Natasha asks, her tone far too casual for the intensity in her gaze. "You hate Tony and you hate parties."

The witch in question simply shrugs. "I was tired of sitting on my ass."

This time, the Widow actually laughs. "Clint should have never taught you that phrase."

"I don't know, I think it's quite fitting." She pauses for a moment, letting the air between crackle with a hard to define energy. One just as powerful and unpredictable as her own powers. "You seem to like looking at my ass."

The older woman's eyes widen before quickly darting around them. Sure, they're leaning up against the ridiculously placed bar but no one around them is paying attention. Tony and Rhodey left to find someone else to bore with their competitive stories and everyone else is scattered around the room, too engrossed in their conversations or their drinks to pay them any mind.

Not to mention, Wanda would never allow them to notice them. It's not mind control, not really, which means she feels no guilt at manipulating reality for a few moments.

"Since when are you so bold, Maximoff?"

"Since I decided to start going after what I want." 

This time, she pairs her words with a subtle step forward. It's not enough for their bodies to press together, but the intention is more than clear. It's a hint and a warning all wrapped up in one. One the Widow could easily ignore if she wanted to.

Wanda almost expects her to, considering how shifty her eyes are. How her attention seems to bounce around the room more and more. She's sure she's never seen the older woman so nervous before. It's as cute as it is enticing.

Finally, Natasha relents. She lets out a long sigh, her gaze shifting back to Wanda's. "You couldn't find a more appropriate time for that?"

The younger woman's smile turns into a smirk. Her free hand reaches out, manicured fingers running down the length of the redhead's arm. "We could always...sneak away, just the two of us..."

Natasha lets out a soft chuckle at that, her resistance clearly wavering, even as she tries to hold strong. "I don't think that's a smart idea, princess."

Wanda's pout is almost enough to make her melt. Almost.

"Why not? Aren't we on the same page about this?"

"It's not that simple."

The witch knows she should at least ask why. That she should pretend to care about the hesitations she knows are swimming around in Natasha's head. She doesn't need to read her mind to know what they are, why they matter. But it's hard to think straight when her advances aren't being rejected. When she's so close to getting what she wants.

So, instead of doing any of the rational things the Widow seems to be struggling with, she wordlessly grabs her hand and leads her away from prying eyes. They're a few ways away but still near the hustle and bustle of the party. Far away to fully hear each other but close enough to be caught if someone decided to wander around.

She's not fully thinking about that possibilty, though. All her focus is on Natasha and getting her to admit how much she wants her. How much she needs this too.

Without thinking about the consequences, she pushes the older woman up against the wall, their eyes meeting once more. The bright green flecks of Natasha's eyes seem to sparkle almost dangerously. Unfortunately, Wanda is too far gone to heed the warnings.

"Wanda, we can't." There's no real discomfort in the Widow's voice. No real attempt at getting the younger woman to stop.

So, she doesn't.

Wanda merely lets out a soft hum but makes no attempt to step away or fully listen to the older woman's complaints. Instead, she leans in more insistently, her lips trailing up Natasha's neck and leaving heated kisses on her skin.

The redhead wants to pull away. To tell Wanda to stop and let her walk away before they do something they'll regret. It's impossible to fight against her, though. Especially when her hands join the slow exploration.

"Why can't we?" The witch asks, her hands settling on Natasha's hips. "Why do you want to pretend like you don't want me?"

The sound the redhead makes is somewhere between a huff and a groan. "That's not what I'm doing. I'm just trying to be smart about this." 

"There's nothing smart about this," she replies. "But I want you and you want me. What more do we need?"

Natasha opens her mouth to answer but Wanda doesn't give her a chance. In one swift move, she hooks the redhead's leg around her waist before pressing herself against her, drawing a soft gasp from her parted lips.

"You were saying?"

"You're so annoying, little witch."

The teasing nickname makes Wanda huff. Sure, it also makes her heart skip a beat but mostly, it annoys her. "Then tell me to stop, 'Tasha."

"Just shut up and kiss me already."

There it is. The permission she'd been waiting for. The clear admittance that their feelings were the same. That the sparks of desire she'd been feeling during training weren't one-sided delusions.

The witch wastes no time in connecting their lips once the realization hits her. Despite the intensity of their desires, the kiss is surprisingly soft. 

It's still more than a little desperate and yet there's an edge of affection that makes them melt. That leaves them craving more.

Thankfully, they both have more than enough ideas on how to fix that craving. The youngest of the two takes the leap first, though, not one bit embarrased of showing how desperate she is for more.

 Wanda grinds her hips up against Natasha's, slowly hiking her dress up to reveal the smooth skin underneath the fabric. There's something about both the setting and their outfits that drives them both mad. Something about being so exposed and yet so composed at the same time. Something about the matching black fabric of their dresses that turns them on more.

Her lips leave the Widow's just to trail down her jaw, her hands moving down her body with purpose. She grips her hips hard enough to move the older woman against her as she easily slots one of her thighs between her legs, giving her the perfect surface to grind against.

"You're so quiet, 'Tasha," the witch teases, unable to stop her flourishing dominant side for rearing its head.

Natasha knows she's allowing herself to slip. That she shouldn't be letting her guard down like this. Shouldn't be giving Wanda this much control over her.

It's not like she can help it, though. There's an intensity behind the younger woman's movements that she doesn't want to fight against. She wants to let it consume her until there's nothing left. No trace of her fears or hesitations.

She's not about to admit that any time soon, though. Even as her bucking hips give her away.

"That's because we're in public," she replies, keeping her voice as even as she can. "I can actually control myself unlike some people."

Wanda chuckles, keeping up her slow movements. "That's not what your hips are telling me."

"You're the one moving them," she shoots back.

The witch leans back slightly, a smirk forming on her face and pairing beautifully with her dialated pupils. "Is that so? If I move my hands away, you'll stop trying to hump my leg?"

Without waiting for an answer, she moves her hands away from the redhead's hips, allowing her fingers to trail up her torso toward her chest. She keeps her touch light and teasing, using it to further draw out the other woman's desires.

"That's not fair," Natasha huffs, her cheeks flushing a light shade of pink as the attention piles on. "You're the one that started this, you have to finish it."

"But we haven't even started yet, have we? You still have too many clothes on."

Wanda's fingers linger on the strap of Natasha's dress, sliding it down just enough to allow her lips to connect to the exposed skin. She focuses her attention on that spot just enough to make the older woman's hips buck against her.

"Fuck," she groans. "This is so unfair."

"I think it's more than fair. I can feel how much you want me. You're soaked, aren't you?"

Her question is met with another groan, this one in a sightly higher, more desperate, pitch. The witch is right, of course. She's already drenched and all she's done is lazily grind against her thigh.

It's practically impossible to stop her body from responding to her, though. Even without reading her mind, she knows her cues all too well after spending so much sparring with her.

Then again, she's pretty sure she wouldn't mind allowing her to invade her thoughts. Something about the lack of control makes her gush.

The low chuckle Natasha's thought is met with makes her eyes widen in response, her hands coming up to grip the younger woman’s shoulders. “Are you seriously reading my mind right now?”

Wanda knows the redhead is trying to sound intimidating but she’s far too breathless, far too wet against her thigh, for her to feel anything but satisfaction. “I couldn’t help it, your thoughts are so loud.”

The response is exactly what she had been expecting and all she can do is huff. “Don’t make it a habit.”

Her words only make Wanda bolder. With her words, her touch, her unbearable need to make the other woman fall apart just for her. “I thought you wanted me in your mind, ‘Tasha?”

The Widow knows she's been caught. That even if the witch didn't spend much time in her head, she knows how much she loves this. How much she wants this. This back and forth dance that will no doubt end with her on her knees.

And still, she's far too stubborn to admit it.

"Shut up." It's a weak remark but it's the only one she has. The only two words she can coherently form as her hips roll against the hard muscle pressing so insistently against her heat. "If you wanted to talk so much, you should have taken me on a date."

"If you don't like me talking so much, why are you so wet?"

It's infuriating. For every snarky response she can form, Wanda has two more waiting for her. It's like she knows exactly how to work her up, exactly how to meet her where she's at instead of trying to change her. It's more than infuriating, it's...it's sweet. In its own complicated, slightly fucked up way, the witch is being sweet.

Maybe it's that realization that makes her melt. Or maybe she's just too pent up to care anymore. She knows what the answer is, but she ignores it in favor of gripping Wanda's wrist and guiding it between her legs.

"I'd prefer it if you stopped talking and started doing, princess."

The witch's body tenses for a second, almost like her brain is struggling to catch up to reality, but then her fingers are working their way into Natasha's underwear and they both let out twin moans at the feeling.

Instead of taking a moment to tease her, Wanda dives right in, her patience fading with every buck of the older woman's hips. She sinks two fingers into Natasha's aching cunt, barely reminding herself to take it easy. To draw her pleasure out until she's writhing and groaning.

"Is this better for you, 'Tasha?" She asks, her lips making their way to Natasha's neck once more. She knows better than to leave too many marks behind, but she can't help her urges and she sinks her teeth into the side of the older woman's neck.

Natasha's walls clench around her fingers, nails digging into the witch's jacket as sparks of pleasure shoot up her spine. She arches her back into her touch, her hips bucking a little too wildly for her taste. It's not like she can help her movements. Not when it feels so good.

"Wanda," she moans, her cheeks heating up as she realizes how desperate she sounds. "Fuck, don't stop."

If Wanda was slightly more sadistic she would push her to beg. As enticing as that sounds, she'd much prefer to show her how good she can make her feel instead.

"I won't," she says as her thumb finds its way onto Natasha's swollen clit. "Not until you fall apart for me. Until you admit how good I make you feel."

Her pride seems like a small price to pay for the pleasure that's turning her brain to mush. She opens her mouth to stroke Wanda's ego some more when the younger woman speeds up her movements, her fingers curling just enough to leave her gasping.

She pushes her hips into her fingers with every thrust, looking far more needy than she ever allows herself to be. "Right there, fuck, feels so good."

Natasha's never really been one for talking during sex, far too accustomed to selfish lovers who don't need her approval to feel like they're doing things right. It's different this time, though. Not just because she genuinly feels good, but because it's so clear that Wanda feels good. That this is what she wants. Touching her, pleasing her, driving her to the brink of madness. The witch has never looked more comfortable, more in her element, than she does right now.

"You gonna cum for me already?" The witch teases, pretending she's not doing everything in her power to make the older woman fall apart. "Here? Where anyone could see you? See how desperate you are for my fingers?"

The slight degradation shouldn't turn her on more, but it does. It makes her head fall back as an incoherent string of curses leave her lips. She knows she should at least feel a little emberrased but she can't. Can't think about anything except Wanda's fingers pistoning in and out of her wet pussy.

"Yes," she replies breathlessly. "I need- need to cum."

Wanda doubles her efforts as soon as she hears Natasha admit how close she is. Her thumb presses down on her twitching clit, rubbing fast circles against it until the Widow's walls are spasming around her fingers. 

"That's it, let go for me, 'Tasha. Make a mess on my fingers."

She doesn't have to be told twice.

The coil in Natasha's stomach snaps almost instantly, leaving her clinging to the witch as the pleasure crashes into her all at once.

Wanda watches her with wide eyes, greedily drinking in every twitch of her face, every desperate sound she can't hold back. She's sure she's never seen anything so breathtaking in her life.

All it does, though, is make her realize how much more she wants. How badly she needs Natasha. How her mind has filled up with fantasies she's not sure she can live without.

After losing everything she's ever had, she has to have the older woman.

That will come later, though, right now, she has more important things to focus on. Like making sure Natasha can walk long enough for them to retire to her room for the night.

* * * * * * *

taglist: @boredandneedfanfics

[meritksi]

equally yours • kinich x gn!reader

With Kinich, everyone gets what they deserve. You can either name your price or accept what Kinich offers in return, and no matter which option you choose, you won't be shortchanged—ever. That’s just how he is.

However, you are an exception. No matter which choice you make, you always end up being shortchanged—at least that’s what he believes.

This annoys him. He tries to make things equal while you insist on giving him more. Sometimes, it makes him wonder if you have ulterior motives. Yet, deep down, he knows that being nice is simply in your nature, just as he has his own tendencies.

But it really, really annoys him.

He dislikes being indebted to others, and he doesn’t like when others owe him either. He might be able to tolerate the latter, but the first thought truly bothers him to the point that he finds himself lying in bed, thinking about how to repay you in the middle of the night as he stares at the ceiling while Ajaw murmurs about how he is going to rule the world when he takes over Kinich's body.

And that -the first thought- always seems to be the case with you.

So when he spotted you sleeping in one of the trees near the Children of Echoes with your saurian companion, as some Saurian hunters approached you two, he acted without thinking—which was out of character for him—and dealt with them in an instant.

Looking back at you, who was still asleep while cuddling with the said companion, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

It seemed like you two were equal now.

That was good. You weren't aware of it so you weren't going to do something about it too. Perfect.

From that day on, Kinich never accepted jobs from you, fearing that if he did, you’d do something so in character of you that would leave him empty-handed again.

Now it was your turn to feel annoyed.

Whenever you caught a glimpse of Kinich, he vanished at the moment you blinked. Everytime!

He still interacted with Mualani, Kachina, Chasca—anyone, really!—except you, of course.

You thought Kinich and you were getting along just fine. Since he was always taking jobs from you and you were helping him out every time he did that too. He was desperate to repay the kindness, that was the reason behind the upcoming requests of taking jobs from you. But you didn't know that.

This new approach(could it even be called approach if he didn't approach at all?) made you feel lonely. And he didn’t know that, too.

Kinich felt restless. No matter how much he tried to avoid you, his mind wouldn’t cooperate. He found himself thinking about you more—it was not just at midnight anymore. It reached the point where he would lock his gaze to somewhere far away while his customer talked, trying to rid himself of thoughts of you by repeating, “We are equal now, equal. Equal. Equal.”

He even almost called Mualani by your name. Whenever that memory came to his mind, his ears burned bright red.

He missed your voice.

Wait, what?

Who said that???

Kinich felt himself blush furiously. The worst part? He was in the middle of a conversation with Mauvika, the literal Pyro Archon. He excused himself, and Mauvika gladly let him go.

But Ajaw wasn’t having it.

“Do you have a fever? Please die in silence so I, the great Dragonlord K'uhul Ajaw, can—”

He couldn’t finish his sentence because Kinich put him on a timeout.

He didn’t even know how that happened, but when he came to his senses, he realized he was standing in front of your house.

At that point, he didn't mind owing you; in fact, he felt like he was already indebted to you (especially considering he still felt like you were shortchanged even after the previous encounter, he thought you deserved so much more).

He just wanted to see you.

And maybe, you also wanted to see him too. Given how tight you hugged him when you two finally made up.

He was empty-handed. It felt weird, he doesn't remember coming here like this in what felt like forever.

But now thinking about it, he didn't feel empty-handed at all. Especially when his fingers brushed against yours, intertwining them with such care, he thought he could get used to this.

Through the embrace of you, he felt his eyes soften when he realized there was no such thing as being indebted between the two of you. Whatever you had was his, just as whatever he had was yours.

Because he belonged to you, just as you belonged to him.

Equally.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ not proofread; it was just a thought that came to my mind while I was trying to sleep, and now it's 3 am lol

☆ i might rewrite this, who knows

[nightbutterfly09]

Spoiled

Y/N and her period.

(chapter: Sae Itoshi) //If you want more chapters//

All day he didn’t receive a moment of peace. All you did was whine. Every single second he saw you going by your day.

Technically he expected this would happen. You were on your period. This was your month. He knew it'd be coming because lately you’ve been getting more and more agitated at everything he did.

He forgot his socks on the bed and you glared at him for half a day. Just because of a pair of socks.

You also craved more snacks lately. He noticed these things and always knew it better than the palm of his hands. Sometimes you’d ask him when did the last one end and he’d without thinking just answer. Like it’s nothing.

The man knew you better than you did yourself at this point.

He loved paying attention to the little things. But really you never understood how he knew your cycles better than you yourself of that stupid app on your phone.

You always required more attention on your month and that wasn't different now either. Your head was in his lap as he kept stroking your soft and freshly washed hair.

His jersey hid your form as the size simply was for you. Regardless he’d always request two more. One to have a spare one and the other just for you. His girlfriend.

“This is so boring they aren't even going anywhere! “ The anime that was supposed to be distracting enough failed. As the night was beginning to rise he decided to watch something so time would fly faster. Not that it ever worked for her.

Her cramps and whines engulfed the room making her curl into a small ball. “Oh come on, it can't hurt that bad” he sighed as you flinched and crumbled even more.

“Want me to get a period simulator for you?” “Nah, I'll be fine without one.” He said as he got up and walked to the kitchen. You frowned. “Where are you going?” “I’ll be back.” He said from the end of the hallway.

To his absence you stopped the show and just layed down on the bed. You were squirming on the bed. At this point you were cramping just like on the day you started.

Not that you didn't feel it coming while being in his embrace. It's just that.. he calmed you. His touch was so warm and it made you fuzzy inside. So you could only focus on that.

Soon he came back with a period cramp heat pad. Your eyes widened. “How did you-” “How did I know? Your toes were curling and you were turning into my chest more mi amor.” He sighed and smirked. He gently placed the pad onto your stomach and sat down, pulling you into his arms.

His hand slipped under your shirt and his hands moved in small circles around the belly. “You’re spoiling me~” your grin made its way to your face and he only squinted his eyes at you. “You like it, and it's not like I can't!” He made a fair argument.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

I desperately want more fics where the t'hy'la bond forms between Kirk and Spock from birth soulmate-style exclusively for the sake of making Spock, 16, feel the pain of starvation during Kirk's time on Tarsus IV.

There's maybe... two? fics I've read that used a similar concept, but there should be MORE.

Like, picture a Spock who knows that he's bonded to his t'hy'la, but has never met them. This bond is the one thing which makes him "acceptably vulcan" in the eyes of his peers. Surely he can't be a failed vulcan if he's got a t'hy'la, the rarest of all vulcan bonds, right? So, to Spock, this bond isn't only an honor, but a lifeline. His whole life, he's taken comfort from it, because it proves beyond a shadow of a doubt that there IS someone who will truly love and care for him and that he IS vulcan enough (and if he has some suspicions that the one he is bonded to isn't vulcan, well, he keeps them to himself).

And then, at some point, Spock begins feeling... oddly anxious. A little hungrier than he should be, most of the time. At first, he writes it off as simply another aspect of puberty, but then it continues. Then it gets worse. The sense of never getting quite enough to eat grows, and the anxiety builds, and eventually, Spock realizes that it's not him. His t'hy'la is the one who is hungry and afraid.

He brings it to his father, then, deeply concerned. "They are hungry," he says of his t'hy'la. "It is persistent and... palpable. I believe they are in danger."

Sarek is sympathetic, but unable to do anything save offer advice: "Be with them. If you meditate and focus on your bond, you may be able to reach them, to offer some modicum of comfort."

And so Spock does. He spends his days deep in meditation, projecting calm and comfort and gentleness into the bond, and he hopes that it is heard, though he can't help but feel that he isn't doing enough. He wishes that he could reach into their mind and find their location so he could help them, but even with the aid of T'Pau, it would be impossible.

And still, the fear and the hunger grow worse, gnawing away at his t'hy'la until Spock wonders if there is even anything left of them, on the other side of the bond.

"I fear they are dying," he confesses one night, emerged from his meditation for just long enough to eat a meal. "They are... so weak, now, and filled with such despair. I -" Spock's voice breaks. "I have not even met them. It is unfair!"

Amanda holds him, and he, for the first time since he was seven, allows it.

"Their mere presence in my mind has done so much for me, and in return, what good have I done for them? I wish..." He swallows, throat aching with suppressed grief. "I would take their place, if I could."

He wonders, almost, if it would be better for them, to die. Their pain was so intense, and their terror so strong - surely death could be nothing but release.

Still, selfishly, he wants them to live.

He wants to get a chance to know them, to love them as more than just a warm link in the back of his mind.

So, still, he meditates, and tries to press as much warmth and affection as possible through the bond, saying don't give up, I'm here, I'm with you.

And, eventually, slowly, the hunger goes away. The fear takes longer, but it, too, eases over time. It never goes away entirely, of course. Sometimes, starvation plagues his t'hy'la's memories, or disembodied terror strikes them out of nowhere. But still, they are healing, and Spock is grateful for it.

Someday, he hopes to have the chance to hold his t'hy'la in his arms, but until then, he offers his mind. Every time he meditates (and every time he feels his t'hy'la's distress) Spock presses love and warmth into the bond. He still doesn't know if he's reaching them, but he hopes - and sometimes, hope is all you need.

(Jim, for his part, thinks often of the gentle warmth and reassurance which filled his mind during his darkest days. He wonders if he could have kept going, without it. He wonders, too, where it came from, and why he can still feel it sometimes, brushing lovingly over him. He hopes that someday he'll find out, to thank them for staying with him, for granting him a light in the darkness.)

[fake-mouthstatic]

sleepy cuddles

@bucktommyfluffebruary, day 10. rated G.

💕

Evan had been officially moved in with Tommy for two weeks.

Five weeks, unofficially, and yet the novelty of waking up beside him still hadn't worn off.

This morning Tommy is the one to wake first, Evan having gotten in late from a three alarm in Beverly Hills.

He doesn't open his eyes straightaway, instead savouring the sound of Evan's soft breaths in his ear, the feel of his head pillowed on his chest and the proprietary arm thrown across his stomach.

read the rest under the cut or on ao3 // other days here

It's a kind of bliss, is what it is, and he already can't live without it; the first twenty four Evan had after moving in had been a kind of torture for Tommy, a long, lonely night spent tossing and turning without Evan's warmth and bulk beside him.

Speaking of bulk, Tommy shifts gently, trying to get a little feeling back in the arm trapped beneath Evan's sizable - and deliciously muscular - frame.

Once he can more or less feel his arm again, he opens his eyes to the late morning sun streaming in from behind the curtains, the beginnings of a bright and beautiful day outside.

Not as bright and beautiful as the man in his arms, if you were to ask Tommy.

He glances down at Evan, taking the opportunity to admire him without the distraction of him being awake and wanting to kiss him for it; being kissed to distraction wasn't exactly a hardship, but sometimes he just wanted to look, wanted to revere the man he was in love with.

His curls look golden in the soft sunlight, sleep messed and wild above a face content in sleep. Almost smugly so in fact, as if his dreams are pleasant and satisfying beyond belief.

Tommy smiles.

He'd known from the start that Evan was different to anyone he'd ever dated before.

For one thing no one had ever asked him to their sister's wedding as a second date, but also Tommy had simply never felt this way about anyone before.

Never been so smitten, so god damn head over heels, that he'd even consider saying yes to a wedding date, especially after the way their first had gone.

But here he was, six months in and so in love it drove him kinda crazy.

Evan's breathing changes and he shifts in Tommy's arms, gently stirring.

Tommy slides a hand into his curls and starts brushing his fingers across his scalp, soft and gentle in the way he knows Evan likes best.

"Mm, that's nice," Evan hums softly, cracking an eye open to look up at Tommy. He smiles, adorably dopey in his just woken state. "Were you watching me sleep?"

With anyone else Tommy might have denied it, might have played it off as something else for fear of seeming clingy or weird but with Evan, he doesn't even think about it.

"Yeah," he says, smiling fondly. "Is that alright?"

"You can watch me all you want, babe," he murmurs, closing his eyes again. "M'all yours."

[saeun]

এ absolute failure ᪲ ﹕ changing the tides ! ᪲ jujutsu kaisen ᧔ female reader.

࣪⊹ he always wanted to hold you in a “sheep in a lion's den” (or something like that) situation, but how can he get past the barrier of a beating heart and sweaty palms?!

+ love, ‘un: featuring (gamer) megumi ⸝ (neighbour) yuta!

megumi fushiguro’s mission: make you nervous (FAILED)

usually megumi rarely invites guests. if there are guests, they invite themselves (example: gojo satoru). it’s the main reason why his housemates were jaw-dropped when they saw a girl following behind their friend.

megumi? with a girl? money might as well grow from trees next week.

it was simply unbelievable. not that they’re calling their friend a loser—hardly, but he’s not the most sociable… in person. megumi's more than comfortable yelling into his headset’s microphone, but he never shares that energy elsewhere.

once megumi entered, he immediately gestured a “don’t say anything” to his housemates. they listened and obeyed; doing nothing more than greeting and telling you the classic: “make yourself comfortable!”

now, megumi meticulously planned the entire session with the help of his group chat. he’d invite you over, keep a cool persona, and use video games as a way to bond with you. what megumi didn’t know was that you were already familiar with video games—you’re just more of a mobile player than a pc player (his main forte).

“do you play games?” he’d softly ask, mentally ticking off the checkbox in his mind.

once you confirmed that you did, he offered you his gaming chair. at first, you denied, saying that it’s his chair and you’d be fine with just standing. what you didn’t know was that’s exactly his plan. he’d have you on the chair while he stood behind you.

he’d guide you through his pc set up, pointing at different games, chrome extensions, doing his best to distract you so you won’t pay any mind to him. when you settled on a game, megumi would smoothly lean over you, putting his hand over yours to control the mouse.

he’d do it all under the disguise of “i’ve played it before. let me show you the tricks.” slowly moving his fingers to sit between yours, stretching his other arm to hold the other side of the chair, leaning in closer til he can feel the heat from your body, talking more than he usually does.

megumi would pretend to be immersed in walking you through the game, but he’s secretly glancing to see whether you’re showing any signs of being flustered.

an hour into the session and he’s the one who’s fighting heartbeat. you weren’t nervous at all. you were calm, sometimes biting your lip to focus on the game. whenever you did something to gain an achievement, you’d smile at him brightly, cheering with an “i did it!” while he responded with his own “yeah, you did.”

you were acting as if this was a normal, friendly hang out. he hid his true intentions. you didn’t know that staring at him until he answered made his heart race. ultimately megumi’s crush you deepened meanwhile you’re excited for another gaming session.

yuta okkotsu’s mission: shojo moment while walking together (FAILED)

yuta fell victim to the unskippable event of falling for his neighbour’s daughter. can you blame him? you’re the same age (bonus number one) and you never get bored of him turning the conversation into a marathon of his interests (bonus number two).

not only do you frequently talk, you also walk together every day. whether it’s to school, to the convenience store, or just taking a stroll around the neighborhood. your parents never allow you to walk without a guardian and yuta’s more than happy to spend time with you.

today it’s walking to the convenience store, though you hold a grudge against it. you’ve ranted multiple times about the irony of it being a convenience when its prices are anything but convenient.

while yuta’s doing his usual rap about his new obsession, you felt a few drops of rain. at first you shrugged it off, thinking you’re imagining things. the sun hid behind the clouds, yes, but the sky’s relatively bright! not a grey cloud insight.

again, you felt more drops of rain. you stopped walking, opening your palm and tilting your head towards the sky.

“hey, is it just me or is it raining?”

upon hearing your words, yuta stops. he was a few steps ahead of you, unable to notice that you had stopped due to being immersed in talking. he walks to you, eyebrows raised as he’s ready to answer your question. unfortunately, the sudden burst of rain cuts him off.

taking advantage of you being in a tank top, yuta quickly slid his jacket off, ready to swing it on your shoulders.

however, you had other plans. it’s raining and you were told to get what your mother needed with haste. with time clearly being a villain today, you grabbed his jacket with one hand and held onto his wrist with the next.

“no time for that!” you shouted, pulling him behind you as you sprinted towards the convenience store.

the sudden contact caused him to be flustered; running through the rain is dangerous yet he’s allowing himself to be dragged along. he would’ve covered you with the jacket and found somewhere to shelter but you took the initiative.

so close, yet so far. the romantic moment he always dreamed of being replaced with whatever’s going on. a moment that could’ve been filled with romantic tension forever mourned. maybe next time he can take the initiative anywhere else but conversations.

[emotionalhottiee]

Made For Each Other!

Chapter 3: No Second Chances!

Aleah

After listening to that voicemail, i immediately blocked that number. Still processing that voicemail i couldn’t help but wonder why he was calling me.

I mean i know why, but did he really think that he could talk his way back into my life? After such a HUGE mistake. An unforgivable fuck up. Like all i can do is shake my head, trying to hold back the tears. I was not trying to break down crying in front of all my new co workers, but as hard as i was fighting back the tears were winning.

Making my way out of catering i tried to find the nearest restroom, through blurred vision. I found a bathroom which was thankfully a single and trudged inside. Letting the tears flow down my cheek. My mind wondered back to a time when things were good. When we were happy.

*Flashback*

“Do you know what today is?

It's our anniversary

Made for you and me.”

I was singing along to Tony Toni Tone’s Anniversary in the passenger seat, as Dominic drove us to our reservation. Celebrating us dating for 2 years, this moment was so special to me. Dominic was so special to me. Of course he wouldn’t tell me where we were going. So i just sat back & watched as we passed by the buildings and the backdrop of downtown Atlanta passed us by. It was only another 20 minutes had gone by. When we arrived at a fancy five star restaurant.

Walking inside the place was vibrantly lit. Soft jazz music played in the background, while a nice older woman directed us to our table. “My name is Helen, i will be your waitress for the night. Here are your menus, while you guys are deciding on your food, what can i get you for your drinks?” She asked ever so sweet with her southern accent thick. “I’ll just have a water, with lemons” i replied. “I’ll have a jack & coke” Dominic said, never looking up from his menu. Sometimes i hated his lack of manners, but i decided to bite my tongue tonight and not make a fuss. It is our anniversary. “Sure thing, i’ll be right out with those drinks” She stated seemingly unbothered by Dominic not looking at her. “Thank you so much” i replied making eye contact with her so i could apologize without words. She smiled genuinely letting me know it was fine, before she proceeded back into the kitchen.

As the night went on we got our food, the atmosphere shifted. Which i was grateful for. Instead of focusing on his lack of manners, we talked about our relationship. Just laughing at the memories we’ve made in two years. Talking about where our future will take us. Even talking about our boundaries. Which usually tends to tick me off, because i have simply stated mine from the very beginning. And they have not changed. But that doesn’t stop Dom from being Mr. Forgetful and constantly bringing them up. He knows having the same conversation over and over and over is a pet peeve of mine.

The night continued on, as i buried my frustrations in the back of my mind. I didn’t want to let one little annoyance ruin our anniversary. We continued to enjoy our food, exchanging funny stories & loving moments between the two of us.

*Flashback Over*

Wiping away the rest of my tears i swore to myself that i was done crying over Dominic… So why was i still such an emotional wreck? But the truth is i was forcing myself to get over it, instead of tunneling through the barrage of emotions i felt. I just didn’t wanna deal with this. I mean what was the point when the relationship was over. Why keep being sad over the past, when it’s the past. Questions that kept replaying in my mind, because i just wanted to move on from him. But it’s not as cut and dry as i thought it would be.

I made a mental note to myself, to call my therapist about my little emotional dilemma.

As i finished rinsing my face with cold water, trying to conceal my red puffy eyes. I grabbed my bags heading out of the bathroom. My head was completely in my purse and not paying attention to what’s in front of me, which caused me to collide into them. Or more specifically him.

“Whoa sweetie, are you okay”. He asked holding his arms out, to prevent me from falling. Even tho i was totally not gonna fall. “You gotta watch where you going babygirl, i wouldn’t wanna knock you over.” He said flashing a pearly white smile at me. “My bad” i simply retorted giving him a faint smile while turning to walk away. I heard him mumble a “DAMN”, but i just let out a little chuckle as i kept walking away.

Don’t get me wrong he was cute, But he wasn’t completely my type not to mention Jey was the one holding my attention right now. And i am not trying to jump from man to man around here, especially because this is my job.

Gotta keep it somewhat professional.

Catch Up!

Disclaimer

tag list:

@prettypink-princesss @isabella-2025

@sheaabuttaababyy @uceyliyahh @mindairy @yana3sworld @christinabae

[crab-crime-enthusiast]

Definitely some interesting additions, and something I did contend with when I was writing these. Discussions under the cut with a Content Warning for discussions of Ableism & Disability Curism:

You raise a good point about the inherent ableism present (especially with Pirrha canonically being blind and being forced to cure himself of his own disability in order to be considered of any value), and I do think many deaf Eliksni were either pressured into getting prosthesis/augmentation or... worse. That's a common part of sci-fi/fantasy stories like this, unfortunately, and you see it reflected in conversations about disabled characters in sci-fi/fantasy stories all the time: The age-old debate of "why is my fantasy character in a wheelchair when magic exists?" and etc. etc.

I started thinking about this whole thing because I'm really interested in disability accommodations within these settings (as I'm disabled myself) rather than taking the approach of curism due to its rather... problematic nature. In my story, I wanted to more deeply explore disability within the Destiny universe as it's something woefully ignored for the most-part in canon. I think it's a missed opportunity when one of Destiny's core themes is about persistence and resilience against even the most dire of odds. I promise this isn't intended to be me shilling for my fic, I'm just talking about my thought processes! ^.^''

The interpretation I ended up going with for Sign (which I unfortunately forgot to include in my post x_x) was that some Conversational Sign persisted through the knowledge of a few select individuals who continued to pass it on and down despite most likely being pressured to augment their hearing. Military Sign, on the other hand, is a much more robust system due to the turn to a heavily militaristic culture, with information on it more readily available.

However, as information sources dwindled, Conversational Sign diverged into strong dialects as users filled in gaps in knowledge with their own contributions, which then persisted into any individuals they ended up passing their knowledge on to. Going back to my fic in particular, Kiraks learned Military Sign and then kinda made it up as she went due to a lack of a tutor when it came to creating a system of Conversational Sign. Her system of Sign is something she made up with her sister as a way to reclaim some independence after she lost her ability to speak.

The nature of the dissemination of sign knowledge meant that highly specific (and possibly even 'incorrect' sign) dialects became the norm, simply as sources about a more centralised and consistent language dwindled both to the brutal nature of the Drift and forced augmentation essentially drastically reducing the population that actively spoke Conversational Sign; Any chance of a centralised language realistically died off with the perishing of all but one of the Judgement Scribes. Variks would likely be the best source for possibly learning something akin to true Riisian sign (especially as I personally headcanon he has permanent vocal damage after Phylaks choked him in The Once-Shipstealer, and thus he sometimes uses non-verbal communication), but even his knowledge would likely be something not wholly applicable due to the high levels of variance now present in the speakers that remain.

A bit of a tangent, but I wonder if the actual usability of conversational sign would be affected by whether Eliksni Hatchlings take to augmentation from youth or not, as I imagine one of the main use-cases for conversational sign post-Drift would most realistically be giving Hatchlings a way to communicate until they're at an age that they can take to augments without danger to their life. I personally don't know if there are any sources that mention the augmentation of Hatchlings in the lore so I can't really make a call. If anybody does, please feel free to add them to this convo, I'd love to learn more!

I'm sorry to have dumped a mini-essay on you in this reblog, I just have a lot of thoughts about this topic ;-; Thanks for reading if you made it this far.

Eliksni Sign Language

Soooo in writing the next Chapter for The Light Provides, I've decided to write up some notes about the Eliksni Sign Language I have Kiraks speaking within the story. She's not deaf but is completely mute save for some chitters, and this lead me down a route of theorising about the different forms that Eliksni Sign Language can take. This isn't everything and I'm still building on the idea, but just putting what I have down. Ramblings below the cut:

Disclaimer: I don't speak sign language irl but I've taken somewhat of an interest in it due to living with someone who is partially deaf. This is just me spitballing about a system implemented in the world of my fic, building mostly on the idea of how a four-armed species with different ideas of social communication may develop a system of non-verbal communication. Please let me know if there is anything offensive and I'll remove it. It's never my intent to hurt anybody.

Basic/Background Notes:

Sign language not a standardised/centralised language due to the Long Drift and the splintering of Eliksni culture.

Dialects vary massively between Houses, especially as there is little to no remaining documentation about the language and only a few speak it.

Eliksni wishing to learn the language often must seek out a tutor who already knows it to get more than a very basic grasp on signing, leading to the perpetuation of House-specific dialects.

Glyphic alphabet remains mostly consistent between House Dialects, but syntax may differ.

High degrees of variation with subdialects of House-specific sign language developing to suit the wider range of body types present post-Whirlwind.

Cultural variations of sign language poses issues with unification attempts e.g. House Salvation, House Light & House Dusk.

TL;DR Sign language is tricky and complex with many different slightly different variations due to the Long Drift, making it difficult to learn and not applicable cross-Houses.

Denoting Tone:

A major degree of dialect variation comes from the favouring of facial expressions versus body language to denote tone.

Piggybacking a bit off of Eliksni expressions headcanons, but positioning of mandibular hairs as well as mandibles and nictitating membranes used to convey tone in dialects that favour facial features.

This form is more overtly favoured by mute Eliksni, whether that be due to developmental issues, psychological factors or physical conditions & damage to their voices.

Some utilise natural subvocalisations too, but this is rare, especially amongst Deaf speakers.

Some deaf speakers of this form may learn to understand patterns of vibrations associated with subvocalisations and learn to mimic them, if they did not know them prior e.g. Hatched profoundly deaf or suffered hearing damage in very early youth.

In this case, their vocalisations may sound 'off' to other Eliksni, a bit like a speech impediment.

Dialects that favour body language utilises things such as scent markers in conjunction with the position of the lower arms to denote tone.

Mandible snaps or clicks in communication are instead denoted through a claw tapping motion produced by pinching the claws together (Think like tapping the thumb to the middle and index finger). Claws simulate clicking sound.

Lower arms make tonal indications whilst upper arms are used for signing actual words or phrases. This developed due to the lower set of arms being naturally less strong and precise than the upper arms, making them less suited to prolonged sessions of extremely quick signing when in conversation.

Naturally, this form of sign does not accommodate for Eliksni who have been docked, but one-handed versions of this dialect have been developed by some docked speakers.

Nouns and names:

Common nouns and proper nouns have their own special designated signs

Regular names are instead either spelled out of their individual letters or, in some dialects, compressed down into their constitute syllables.

Syllables are often comprised of shortened individual letter signs, following common sounds like the way there are specific glyphs in the Eliksni written alphabet for sounds like "kk", "rr", "im".

Other Notes:

Using both sets of arms to sign primary language is viewed almost akin to shouting.

[imaginepostingonmain]

"..."

"...Aye."

"I sp'pose it is."

[skunkes]

i dont like when character being blunt/having no filter = character just being Mean, and im trying to find a good balance with that for Talon. I guess it's not that hard since he's not an (active) overthinker and I have drawn him saying things he considers neutral that seem rude to others...I guess I have to find a way to show the opposite, too