#bat research initiatives
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delicatelysublimeforester · 8 months ago
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Guardians of the Night Sky
Bat Appreciation Day: Guardians of the Night Sky As the sun sets on April 17th, the spotlight turns to the silent heroes of the night—the bats. Bat Appreciation Day invites us to explore the fascinating world of these nocturnal creatures, shedding light on their crucial role in maintaining ecological balance. But did you know that you can actively contribute to bat conservation right here in…
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stick2vamp · 4 months ago
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sebastian with a touchy reader who can't seem to take their hands off him ? :3
𝜗 ˖ ❝ poke, poke! ᵕ ♡
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— in which you get too handsy for your own good. ✧
↷  sfw 𓈒 no warnings 𓈒 well bitch sebastian warning 𓈒 tried to make this as in character as possible but honestly may be more ooc 𓈒
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UNESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP ☆★ — under the assumption you aren't dating yet.
SEBASTIAN doesn't honestly care that much when you touch him, he just likes to pretend like he does to see your reaction. Whether you freeze up and stop your actions, or continue to do them out of defiance: either amuses him. He does have his limits, though.
You're fine to touch his tail. Many Expendables do it on accident when buying things anyway, so he has gotten used to it. He won't bat an eye when you lightly touch his tail. Sebastian will, though, tease you and push you. It's not a fair trade that you get to just play with his tail like that. Don't you think he deserves some compensation? Of course, he isn't being too serious, but if you end up coughing up some research... well, he'll gladly take it off your hands.
But Sebastian will only let you do that. It's better than nothing, isn't it? Oh, how generous he is. You're not allowed to touch his hands, fins, or 'lure'. Yeah, no, you aren't getting your grubby little hands on him like that. Well, maybe if you paid for it. How does 1,000 research per second of touch sound?
Sebastian does not enjoy physical touch, nor does he see a need for it. Perhaps, in the past, he would've yearned for it. But now, he is quite literally different.
But let's say you're a loyal customer, a frequent visitor whom Sebastian has come to actually pay attention to. Sebastian, being the oh-so-sweet shopkeeper he is, might let you hang around and touch him a bit more. If you promise to keep buying from him, that is.
ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP ☆★ — under the assumption you are dating.
SEBASTIAN still has no need for physical touch, but he understands that you do. And being the best boyfriend there is, he'll of course give it to you.
Except, you still need to return the favor. Expect a lot of physical attention from Sebastian, you reciprocating, then Sebastian flipping it onto you as if you were the one initiating it just to get you to do something for him. What do you need to do for me? Why, you just need to cut him some slack. See, not so hard, is it? How kind of him to give you such an easy task.
That aside, as his lover, you get to touch more of him. His tail is not the only thing up for grabs anymore. Feel free to touch him wherever. While he can't guarantee a position reaction, he won't stop you from petting wherever you want.
His fins? In your hands. His light? In your hands? His cheeks? In your hands? Go ahead and squeeze to your heart's content. The two of you have all the time in the world down here, after all.
Rarely, Sebastian will initiate affection with you without any ulterior motives. When you question his antics, he just laughs into your shoulder. Really, do you expect him to be mean all the time? These moments become more and more frequent as time goes on. Free of charge, too. You're the only one he'll give a 100% off discount to. The things he does for you.
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mindblowingscience · 1 month ago
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Bats are incredibly diverse animals: They can climb onto other animals to drink their blood, pluck insects from leaves or hover to drink nectar from tropical flowers, all of which require distinctive wing designs. But why aren't there any flightless bats that behave like ostriches—long-legged creatures that wade along riverbanks for fish like herons—or bats that spend their lives at sea, like the wandering albatross? Researchers may have just found the answer: Unlike birds, the evolution of bats' wings and legs is tightly coupled, which may have prevented them from filling as many ecological niches as birds. "We initially expected to confirm that bat evolution is similar to that of birds, and that their wings and legs evolve independently of one another. The fact we found the opposite was greatly surprising," said Andrew Orkney, postdoctoral researcher in the laboratory of Brandon Hedrick, assistant professor in the Department of Biomedical Sciences, in the College of Veterinary Medicine.
Continue Reading.
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red-archivist · 4 months ago
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TMAGP 23 SPOILERS!
i heard those lines and was immediately inspired to make something sad lol
~
Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.
Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.
Twenty years ago, Jonathan Sims quits smoking.
It’s not enough to just stop, the shakes and the headaches nip at him constantly, and he reluctantly concludes that bad habits need to replaced by better ones.
That’s where the cycling comes in, to start with.
It’s exercise, it’s eco-friendly, and he can pretend he is literally leaving his cravings behind him as he pushes hard on the pedals.
He does his homework first, researching what is the best option for city cycling, for his budget, for someone that hasn’t ridden a bike since they were nine.
He plots out his paths to the office, the shops, and the nearest puncture repair centre, just in case. He even makes a spreadsheet to keep track of them.
He is sure Tim would poke fun at him for it, if they were still talking, but the organisation keeps his twitching fingers busy and his roaming mind away from the half-finished box of cigarettes in his desk drawer that he promises he will throw away any day now.
What all that planning fails to account for, as soon as he actually gets onto the road, is the rest of the world moving around him.
Every stereotype he has heard about antagonistic drivers is proven ten-fold as he dodges swerving cars and gets sworn at for whizzing past stalled traffic. He soon learns to sneer through tinted windows.
Pedestrians are almost worse. They seem blind to him, stepping out directly in front of his wheels and making him wobble as he overcorrects. As if a bike can’t still do some damage if he were to actually hit someone. Once, he clips the edge of a pram and stops in the street to shout some sense into the careless father pushing it.
He bitches openly about this during his lunches and his coworkers only roll their eyes at him sometimes.
The cycling becomes a bit of running joke in the office when they spot him coming in with his bike shorts and change of outfit, but he ignores them. The shorts are practical. For some reason, telling them that only makes them laugh harder.
He takes the fastest route into the office and a scenic one home. It winds through quiet well-off estates, before opening out to one of the less well-known urban parks. It’s calming, almost meditative, to roll through the cool shade the cluttered trees offer after another meaningless day of data entry.
In those times, he doesn’t think of his empty flat or his dead-end job, he forgets his sniggering coworkers and his ever-dwindling contact list. It’s just him and the wind.
The only thing that could make those moments better, he admits to himself, is a smoke.
The problem with this particular path is how hard it is to see around corners in the park. There is some national re-wilding initiative in the works and the foliage looms over the roads in a way that block his line of sight.
He checks every turn, even though it is rare to encounter a car in this area. Better safe than sorry.
The night he dies is warm but overcast.
He follows his usual route and cranes his neck to see around the overgrown corner he is approaching. A drooping branch grazes his head and something falls from the tree onto his neck.
It could be a leaf, or a twig, or a ladybird, but Jon feels the whisper-touch of something small at his throat and his only thought is: spider.
He has been afraid of them since he was very young and terrified instinct immediately beats any reason. One hand flies up from the handlebars to bat away at his collar. He swerves. Fear makes him pedal faster and the bike speeds onto the junction.
He is so scared of the potential at his throat that he never even sees the delivery truck.
The bike is sent flying from the impact, Jon falls under the wheels.
The driver, to his credit, calls emergency services immediately, distraught.
The ambulance is there within five minutes, but they needn’t have bothered. Jon is declared dead at the scene with a broken neck.
What few friends he has left comfort each other with that fact.
At least it was quick.
~
Twenty years ago, Martin Blackwood’s mother survives her second stroke.
This is a good thing, Martin reminds himself, more than once. It is Good that his mother is alive.
It doesn’t matter that the nurses need to attend to her around-the-clock now. It doesn’t matter that the care home bills have skyrocketed. He is grateful that she is still with him.
He starts looking for a third job. The admin work during the day and the shelf-stocking at night barely covered his previous bills. He’ll have to look for some flexible positions to cram into his schedule.
In the meantime, he cuts back. Eats cheaply, eats less. Cancels overdue check-ups and doesn’t touch the heating.
His days are a current of constant worry, occasionally breached by a wave of panic that he tries to quell by hiding in the office bathroom and digging his nails into his legs.
Panic won’t pay the rent or keep the lights on or remember to call Mum every Sunday. He smothers it deep in his chest and ignores the spasm of pain he gets whenever he forces it down.
He has been getting those more often; sharp, sudden chest pains, numb fingers, dizzy spells, an aching back, shortness of breath.
He had been going to ask the doctor about it all before he cancelled the appointment but. Well. Needs must.
He has his first heart attack on the evening shift.
Pulling a box of washing up tablets from the top shelf in Aisle 4 causes such a rush of agony in his chest that he dares to ask the manager to take his 15-minute break early.
He doesn’t make it to the back room before he collapses.
In the hospital, after he wakes, the doctors ask if there is a family history of heart problems.
If he didn’t feel so weak he would laugh.
He has more in common with his mother then he likes to admit. Of course they share a bad heart.
Or maybe it came from his father. Mum always said he was heartless. Maybe there’s a hole where Dad’s DNA should be.
When the medical team leaves him to rest, all he can think is how much this will cost him.
The NHS is no charity no matter what their marketing says, not to mention how much money he will lose by recovering. He can’t afford six weeks of not working. His first job doesn’t have that much sick leave and his second doesn’t have any.
He runs the numbers in his head, tries to find what else he can hack out of his life to keep his head above water. Occasionally his thoughts swerve, self-recriminating and barbed. He is so stupid for letting this happen at all.
It’s all his fault.
Mum is going to be so angry with him.
His heart pulses in keen pain, bitter and broken.
Somehow, he drifts off, counting figures instead of sheep.
The second heart attack kills him in his sleep.
~
They die on the same day, at nearly the same time (Jon rushes ahead, always too eager, Martin follows inevitably after him).
Their death certificates are filed away alphabetically by a bored clerk in the dusty management system of the General Register Office.
Twenty years later, Samama Khalid exhumes them and examines them, with more curiosity than sense, only to be disappointed by the mundanity of their ends.
He returns them together, heedless of any organisation.
Jon and Martin meet, in the quiet and the dark.
The filing cabinet is a shared headstone, their names rest side-by-side.
~
Also on AO3
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jaythes1mp · 5 months ago
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Hi can you please make a yandere batfam meeting a merfolk reader or what your headcanonns on how that would go especially if reader is willing to stay and maybe even help with the more aquatic stuff of vigilante work
Definitely! This is some general stuff, a link to the chapter once I’ve written it will be added at the end. If everyone could please cast votes for what you’d rather before I start writing it, would be great!
Anon, I know your initial ask wasn’t really a request, but I want to write this. Haha… hope you don’t mind.
Yandere Batfam x Merfolk Reader
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In the early stages of your involvement with the BatFamily, when their obsessions with you are just beginning to form, they would seek out your assistance in their crime fighting endeavours. This is under the assumption that you’re already a well known vigilante of sorts. Their obsession growing after they encounter and become acquainted with you. Learning of your skills, and how your kind can help them if any villains were to take their fight to the water surrounding Gotham’s edges.
But once the Bat's obsession has matured into a deep, twisted fascination, they would never allow you near the battlefield. Their possessive nature would take over, and they would be unable to bear the thought of you being hurt or even fighting others. Even if you were incredibly powerful, their protective instincts would render it moot the moment they have their possessive grasp on you, effectively ending your crime fighting days.
However, if you were not affiliated with any vigilante work from the beginning, the BatFamily would never even entertain the idea. Their fixation would target you on a personal level, rather than the dynamic of needing crime fighting assistance.
They might encounter you under various circumstances, such as: (numbered 1,2,3,4.)
By chance along Gotham’s shores, accidentally stumbling upon you.
You were caught in a trap, leading to your capture and confinement at Wayne Enterprises research facility. <- my favourite
One of the Bat’s had suffered an injury that sent them plummeting deep into the waters of Gotham, but just as they’re about to loose consciousness you swim them up to the surface. Saving them.
Or you may take the initiative on your own accord, reeling in one of the batfamily for either help or sustenance. The rest of the family coming to the rescue only to learn that you’re non threatening, and that the chosen member is cuddling into your side.
They would grow unhealthily fixated on you. Attached. Every aspect of your appearance and your mysterious species would fascinate them. The thought alone that you could survive in the harsh dangerous waters of Gotham without Bruce’s high-tech equipment ever detecting your existence baffling them. This would spark a curiosity turned obsession that would drive them to uncover everything about you, no matter the cost. Their intrigue shifting into a deeper, twisted form of love.
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Initially, they would design a high-tech enclosure for you at the Wayne Manor, meticulously crafted to provide everything you need to thrive and more. Which you willingly enter, unaware that you’re under their watchful eyes, who monitor your every move, their fascination growing.
Under the vigilante route, where you’ve allied yourself with the family, you would move to the manor to discuss and plan out operations aimed at capturing and stopping a villain who was terrorising the city. Your presence there would foster a bond between you, as they relied on your skills and knowledge to aid them.
Voluntarily travelling there to discuss plans and strategies to combat with the villain and future perpetrators who has target Gotham.
Versus the ‘found’ routes, where you’d go because you trust them.
1 & 4 -> You would go to the Wayne Manor intrigued and fascinated to explore an entirely new place. Having only known of Gotham’s currents before, the thought of learning about human culture piques your interest. Contrary to the ominous warnings from the Elder Mers, these humans have been nothing but kind. They haven’t tried to harm you in any way, neither confining you in cages nor cutting you up to consume you, nor taking your scales. The Elder Mers must have misled you! The BatFamily is proving to be nothing but sweet and welcoming. What’s the harm in staying with them for a little while? You’re sure your clan won’t even realise that you’re gone.
2 -> You would either have no choice in the matter, as you were considered the Wayne’s property under the public’s eyes, Or you would leave under a negotiation with one of them. Desperate to escape from the constant scrutiny of the scientists who eye you as nothing more than a piece of meat. Their tests leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable, had become unbearable, with the small transparent tank doing nothing to offer you comfort or refuge. A public spectacle being observed daily by prying eyes. You’d do anything to never have to become an experiment for these humans ever again.
3 -> They would invest months, devoting themselves to understanding your life, gradually winning you over with their kindness. Persuading you to reciprocate their efforts by visiting the enclosure they had meticulously designed specifically for you. You were fascinated by their accomplishment, having built a structure that seamlessly connected to every room within their manor. Slowly you visited more often, their efforts touching you deeply. They had created this for you. Maybe humans weren’t all bad…
Whichever route you take, the end result is the same; they become deeply, unhealthily obsessed with you. Having them hold you captive, their obsession transforming into an intense, lasting fixation. They would have no intention of ever letting you go, keeping you confined in their carefully crafted webs, for the rest of your life, never permitting you to escape their grasp. Their desire for you becoming all-consuming, forever entrapping you within their influence.
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Please vote for which of them you’d like to see most!
Romantic or platonic? Tell me in the comments or anon asks, please.
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oldmanjenkins985 · 2 months ago
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So, I wanted to talk about something since MD Twitter in particular seems to be having some issues with a current trend in the MD fandom. That being the Panic AU by @candyasbestos (apologies in advance for the ping, just felt like maybe you'd wanna see this)
So I'd like to start right off the bat by saying anyone who is uncomfortable with this AU is completely reasonable for being that way. It's more so that uncomfortableness leading to disdain for the AU that I wanna talk about.
So, I'm a horror fan. I watch plenty of things on horror movies and play plenty of horror games. And what exactly does horror media try and do? Make the player horrified and uncomfortable. Seeing grotesque imagery which may make you wanna vomit. One of the games that comes to mind for something that's definitely meant to make people uncomfortable and not just scared is Fear & Hunger. It's a game with incredibly uncomfortable imagery, sometimes due to gore and other times due to sexual themes. And it's perfectly reasonable for that to turn people off, yet I've never seen anyone have the kind of reaction to stuff like that compared to the reactions some people have had to the Panic AU
And that's the thing with the Panic AU, it makes *N* uncomfortable. Uncomfortable with himself due to Nyx's influence on him. That is the entire point of the AU it seems. And Nyx himself seems to be some kind of representation of mental illness (pretty standard horror trope, I know). I'm not an expert in the subject despite dealing with it quite a bit so I won't name any specific mental illnesses it could be, but it's clear to me Nyx is some kind of urge of N's.
I've made plenty of characters like Nyx for my original works that are also meant to be representations of mental illness. Voices that whisper to you to do terrible things, creatures that make you feel worthless and shut down, etc. I make these not only because I find them scary but also as reflections of my own experience with mental illness. And it's that first point again that makes me question people's reactions to it.
People have said "It's grossly out of character for N" and stuff like that which...honestly that makes me think they only saw the initial wave of art and don't really know how N feels about the whole situation. But the other thing is that so many AUs have intentionally mischaracterized N because of what the AU is. And I'm not talking just swap AUs, I've seen plenty where N's character is wildly different because of the circumstances of the AU. And I see the Panic AU no different.
I also saw another comment of someone saying "We shouldn't normalize behavior like this" and again, I question whether the person has actually researched the thing they're talking about. Nyx, the thing that makes everyone uncomfortable, is very clearly the *villain* of the AU. He killed Uzi, he wants N to kill Thad, he's a horrid little creature. Are villains not meant to do things we disdain? Murder, torture, etc. It's prefectly understandable these things would make people uncomfortable, but isn't that what many villains do? There's plenty of media with torture scenes in them which make people uncomfortable, but that's the point! Hell, some kid shows have torture scenes. What about the Lich's design from Adventure Time? He's a rotting corpse! In a kid show! His design is clearly meant to make the viewer uncomfortable.
So again, while I don't think anyone is in the wrong for being uncomfortable due to the AU, I think many of the criticisms are unfair. A piece of media which is specifically designed to make people uncomfortable should not be criticized for that very reason. Avoid it all you want, that's completely reasonable! Never feel like your reasons for being uncomfortable are unwarrented. But I'm just saying that if you were to critique Silent Hill because it's themes of mental illness and character depictions made you uncomfortable, and that was a *negative*, it just seems a little weird to me.
This is all just my opinion, obviously I'm not THE definitive person on the matter. And I'm not saying anyone who has the AU blocked or anything should check it out. I'm just saying, many people seem to be judging it unfairly.
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i-wanna-write · 3 months ago
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If One’s Different, One’s Bound to be Lonely - Wolverine Fic - Part 1
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Fic Synopsis: We know Wolverine and Sabertooth but the reader is known as Jackal. Just like the other two, their mutation is animalistic, lending them healing factors, enhanced physical abilities, and animal senses. This fic details their relationship with the Anchor!Wolverine and how they ended up meeting the Worst!Logan
Chapter Warnings: violence, cussing, lewd comments/thoughts, reader is described as female
Word Count: 3k+
A/N: I’ve had this idea since I saw Deadpool and Wolverine so I figured I’d give it a go! I wanted to write Worst!Logan and SacredTimeline!Reader but wanted some backstory. Well, the backstory turned into backstories which then turned into this mini fic. Not sure how many parts there will be but no more than 10. This will start from when the reader was born, through snippets of the X-Men movies before FINALLY making its way to D&P. There's obviously going to be changes in scenes due to the reader and it's a fic so I can change what I want! I also love how Wolverine and Sabertooth are brothers in Origins so went with that. The timeline is also a little sketchy because D&W is set in 2024 and Logan 2029 but they discuss how Logan died already… so just bear with me on that… Let me know what you think!
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You were born in 1895 to two loving parents. They were older than the average parents, having struggled to conceive but finally being blessed with you. You were their pride and joy, providing you with all the clothes, toys, furniture, games, and literature you wanted.
You were a secluded child. You preferred being alone and were grateful for being an only child. You hated sharing your things and talking to others.
You were also a sick and frail child. You always caught a cold or broke a bone, or got a scratch. Your parents dragged you to numerous doctors, trying to find a reason for your ailments. It wasn’t until you hit puberty that the truth was revealed.
You were a mutant.
Your genetics carried an X gene and had different DNA then your parents.
A week laid up in bed with a constant fever, sweats, and chills, it was finally revealed when your fingernails elongated into claws, the rest of your baby teeth spilling out and adults ones replacing them. Only they were all razor sharp and could easily shred anything.
Your parents were hysterical at first. They prayed and waited for their miracle child but were terrified at first to learn that she was a mutant.
That she was different.
Your sense of sight was keener than the average human, you heard like a bat, your smell like a bloodhound. You no longer got sick. If you received an injury it healed in a matter of seconds.
Your parent’s initial fear turned into protectiveness and soon you were shut in - no longer allowed all the things you wanted. Your parents kept you at home, not letting you mingle with others your age in fear of something happening to you… Or you doing something to someone else.
As you grew older, you finally escaped your parents and never looked back. You moved around, being adaptable and able to change at any given moment and go with the flow of the environment. You were cunning and evaded anyone or thing you wanted to without thinking twice. And just like in childhood, you grew to be more territorial. You valued all your personal items and were always willing to defend what you called yours.
Through much research over your first years on your own - you were able to determine that all these traits were similar to that of an animal.
A Jackal.
Known for the same personality traits of your own, this dog breed also sported sharp teeth in all regions of their mouth and just as sharp claws to take down their prey. Soon, that's what you became known as.
You moved through the years alone, never staying in one place for more than a year due to the world's hate towards mutants. You often found secluded cabins and would purchase what you needed at a store, then hunted on your own for protein - using your abilities to your advantage.
If someone caused a problem for you, a man making a sexist comment. Someone shit talking other mutants. You didn’t hesitate to take them out. Your instincts would take over in that moment and your claws would disembowel them or your teeth rip out their throat.
Sometime during the 1950s, you were staying in a Montana cabin you found, the nearest town miles away. Occasionally, you would frequent a bar there, wanting a moment to feel the whiskey slide down. It was in that bar that you met two other mutants for the first time.
You were seated alone at a table in the tavern, dressed in slacks, a button shirt, and jacket, A cap was on your head, hiding your long hair to make it appear short. Making you appear like a man.
You were nursing a whisky on the rocks, allowing the liquid to burn your throat and sooth your day. The bar wasn’t too busy, filled with men after a day of work. Two were seated at the bar, another alone at a table than solely the bartender handing out drinks.
You smelt them before they entered. One smelt like copper, the other smoke. As they entered and made their way to the bar, you examined their appearance. Both dressed in jeans and dark jackets, the copper one appeared shorter but with broader shoulders. His hair was buzzed to his head with stubble lining his jaw. He moved with confidence, acting as he owned the establishment and everyone should part for him to make way.
The smoky one was taller, shoulders not as wide but perhaps weighing more due to his height. His hair was longer, curling behind his ears towards his neck with tufts on either side. His jaw was also lined in stubble, but rather than walking like he owned the place, he walked with ease, as if he knew people were staring but could care less about it.
Your eyes followed them as they ordered, noting how the other patrons seemed to watch them too, as if all of you were aware that they could be dangerous. You returned your attention back to your drink when you got a whiff of something you haven’t before. Despite their initial scents, they both smelt off - different than all the other humans you’ve been around your life. They smelt… almost wild.
You were taken from your thoughts when the seat across from you suddenly became occupied. You looked up and saw the two men seated across from you, both with a drink in hand. The shorter one spread his body on the chair, his left arm around the taller ones.
“What’s a woman like you doing in here?” The shorter one asked, nodding his head towards you.
“Women?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.
So far, no one has been able to distinguish your true gender. How could these new patrons know?
“Can smell the difference Bub.” The taller one said as if it was obvious.
While his companion was spread out, the larger man surprisingly took up a smaller space. His forearms rested on the table, fingers clasped in front.
“Smell?” You repeated, feigning ignorance.
“Come on Frail. We can smell you’re a woman and smell you’re a mutant like us, quit playing stupid.” The shorter one growled, a look of anger on his face. “Never met a woman mutant like us though.” He added a malicious smirk on his lips. He turned to look at the other one, as if wanting him to comment as well but to no avail.
You’ve never met another mutant before. Period.
“Well, pleased to have checked that box off your list.” You smile, quickly finishing your drink before slamming it on the table, rising to flee. “Have a good night gentlemen.”
One of them smelling like blood and acting as he did, you knew they were trouble - and you’ve avoided trouble for so long the past years you weren’t about to start getting into it. You went to leave but the taller man grabbed your arm suddenly, claw like knives slowly breaking the skin of his knuckles and leaving them, puncturing your skin.
“We weren’t finished talking.” He said, finally showing some emotion as a smile graced his face.
You quickly yanked your arm back, watching as your skin healed itself, blood now stained on the sleeve of your jacket.
“Have a seat frail,” The shorter one added, smirk still on his face. “We want to get to know you.”
You sat back down. You wish you didn’t finish your whiskey as you tired to make your escape, no longer having something to fiddle in your hands.
You look up at the men and see them both staring back at you, as if taking you in. You know what they see. A woman with H/C hair hidden underneath a hat with just enough to be seen on your forehead. Eyebrows to match that have strands out of place and eyelashes that prissy girls would kill for circling your E/C eyes.
You do the same, truly taking in the men if they’re going to be talking with you. Assessing you. Determining if you’re a threat or not.
You observe the shorter one first, seeing him as the larger threat of the two. His eyebrows are bushy despite his short hair and has wrinkles on his forehead. He continued to wear a malicious smile and has subtle dimples on either side but they make him appear menacing rather than childlike. His eyes are green and hold a dark tint, as if he’s thinking about fucking you or killing you. Maybe both.
You move to look at the taller one and notice that his expression is almost unreadable, except his mouth is curled up slightly in a snarl. His eyes are a deep brown, holding only mistrust and curiosity, as if solely reading everything about you. His bottom his lip is full, the top one smaller but shaped perfectly despite the snarl.
“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” The shorter one repeats, raising an eyebrow.
“Drinking. What else do you do in a tavern?” You bite back, shooting him a dark look.
He looks around as if debating his answer before saying, “Some drink.” He shrugs. “Others bring a girl in and fuck her in the bathroom.”
You grimace at the thought of doing that act with him. You’d pick the taller one if it was between life and death if you had to choose. At least the taller one looks like he’d make it quick.
“I’m sure you have to drag them back there as no women would glance your way.”
You know you shouldn’t egg him on but you can’t help it. You have just as sharp of a bite to back up your bark and you’re not afraid to use it. Even if it’s against two other feral mutants.
“Hmph.” The man says.
You watch as he reaches his right hand out, going for a handshake. His hand resembles a paw, his nails replaced with claws and sharp as knives. Your eyes travel to his face and now notice how his canines are sharper than an average humans. Perhaps attributed to his mutation.
“Victor Creed. This runt is my brother James Howlett.” He finally introduced.
Two can play at this game.
You elongate your own nails, showing off your claws. You then smile, teeth sharpening to show off points on all of them, not just your canines. You reach over and clasp his hand in your own.
“Y/N L/N.” You tell them, causing him to smile wider.
You let go of his his hand and look at the other one. “I’m not shaking your hand since you already sliced me, asshole.”
He merely shrugs. “Not offended Bub.”
This time you notice how deep and gruff his voice it. It sends goosebumps throughout you and you hope neither can notice it.
“What do you two want?” You ask, switching your gaze between them.
“Like I said, never met a female frail before. And based on your reaction, guessing you've never met another mutant ever.” Victor says.
It’s your turn to shrug. “I like being alone and keeping to myself.” Simple and to the point.
“Why’s that? Afraid you’re gonna kill someone with those claws? Too weak to fight off the instinct to sink your teeth into their neck?” Victor leans forward, looking intently at you for your answer.
He’s right. Of course he is, having hit the nail on the coffin. You’re a loner by mutation and learned that being around others only causes harm by your hand. It’s better to be alone and comfortable, rather then surrounded by prey.
“So what if I am? Can still take your ass down.” You say nonchalantly, trying not to appear bothered by how easily he read you.
He laughs, it sounding hoarse and dry. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Somehow I think you’d enjoy that. Don’t wanna end up in the bathroom with you.” You retort back.
You notice then how the taller one barely talks. He seems to have an air of indifference around him. Like he’s just here because Victor is and has no interest in the conversion. Or you.
“Tell me, how old are you? Gotta be young if you’ve never met another mutant before.”
You watch as he takes a sip of his whiskey, again upset at yourself for downing yours. You think about stealing James due to his lack of participation but think better of it, not wanting him to slice you again.
“I was born in 1895.” You reveal, holding your gaze with Victors.
“Awe Jimmy.” He coos, bumping his elbow into his brothers arm. “She’s just a kitten compared to us.”
You growl at that, not liking the mocking tone. This man was starting to get on your nerves. His gaze keeps drifting down to your chest, as if he has x-ray vision to see your breasts. The other isn’t giving anything and you wish he would, seeming to be the more sane one of the two. If you take out the part where he cut you.
“What? You guys my long lost grandfathers or something trying to bring me home?” You question, arching an eyebrow.
They looked to be your age but based on what Victor has said and you’ve seen, their mutations really are similar to yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if they were older than you. You want to know more about them - you have to. The first people like you since you’ve discovered you're a mutant. Maybe you won't feel so lonely anymore due to your difference form others
“1831 and 1835.” James finally speaks, lowering his whiskey from his mouth.
“Doesn’t answer if you are my grandfathers.” You point out.
“Not your grandfather frail. Quite trying to be cute.” Victor cuts in. “Now, based on your claws and teeth, you’re definitely like us, not just by scent. So what? You got some wolf? Some crocodile? You hiding scales underneath those clothes?”
You laugh, your voice light in the air before you remember where you are and what you’re pretending to be.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You snap back, baring all your canines at him.
“She’s a Jackal Vic.” James says. “Hates being around others. Easily blends into her environment. Able to will her nails to claws and all teeth shape as canines. Makes sense”.
“One point to brains.” You point to James, winking at him. “Zero points to brawn.” You point to Victor.
Said man goes to speak but you don’t let him, continuing. “You’ve got your own set of claws and canines. You’ve been trying to manipulate me and the situation this entire time, proving your cunningness. And you seem to try to include James here, I’m assuming your younger brother, into the conversion because you value family. Making you similar to a Sabertooth.” Something you thought you might’ve been before discovering your similarities with a Jackal.
Victor raises his eyebrows in surprise, not thinking you’d be able to guess their own mutation like James had yours.
“Meanwhile,” you turn to James, “You seem to hate being around other people as much as me. Your quiet but observe everything around you, making sure you have an escape. You were able to debunk what my mutation was, suggesting you’re smart. If I didn’t see your claws earlier, I would’ve guessed you to be a Jackel like me.” You finish.
You watch as James leans forward, both arms resting on the table as his face gets closer to you. You stare into the deep brown and feel yourself getting lost for just a moment before being pulled back.
“So what does that make me?” He questions, curious of your conclusion.
“A wolverine.” You state.
With that reveal, you make your escape. You quickly exit the table, knowing this time to not walk by it as you exit the tavern. You push open the door with one hand and start to pick up your pace. There are people lingering outside and you don’t want to draw attention.
You reach the edge of the forest, taking the cap from your head and letting your H/C locks free. You run a hand through them, trying to catch your thoughts and slow your heart rate at the run-in you just had.
You two sets of footsteps rush up behind you and take a breath, smelling Victor and James. A hand reaches out and lands on your shoulder but you immediately grab it, turning to your right to face your attacker.
A crack is heard throughout the first floor as you break Victor’s arm and don’t hesitate. Your teeth elongate to canines, your face moving to his neck and grabbing it. You bite down, blood immediately rushing into your mouth as you grab a chunk out of him.
You let go and push him away, watching as he staggers back and James stands at his side, hands in his pocket. You spit the flesh out of your mouth and grin at both men.
“If you guys have heard anything about the Jackal, you’ll know to leave me the fuck alone.”
You leave it at that, turning on your heel and walking off into the forest, leaving an angered Victor and impressed James behind you.
\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///\\\///
Stay tuned for Part 2!
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ninibeingdelulu · 5 months ago
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Date at the museum with him ft. satoru gojo, suguru geto, kento nanami, megumi fushiguro, toji fushiguro
{ Forcing them to go to the museum with you. }
SATORU GOJO
Probably agreed mostly because he found your enthusiasm endearing and adorable.
But winds up legitimately engaged, using his Six Eyes to analyze the exhibits critically.
Jokes that the artistic techniques are "pretty neat, but not as impressive as my domain expansion".
Purposefully riles you up by loudly criticizing the "uninspired" modern art installations.
Yet has flashes of unexpected insight, wowing you with deeper meanings you missed.
SUGURU GETO
Maintains his typical cool aloofness as you excitedly lead him through the galleries.
Not overtly interested, but humors you by listening to your impassioned explanations.
Every now and then, he'll murmur a poignant counterpoint from his philosophical views.
Almost seems to dissociate at times into his own contemplative musings.
Until you grab his hand, instantly recentering his intense focus solely on you.
KENTO NANAMI
An absolute delight - he researched and planned the whole museum trip meticulously.
Guides you through at an unhurried, meandering pace with encyclopedic knowledge.
Completely enamored watching your face light up, hanging on his every word in wonder.
Occasionally draws you close to murmur intriguing factoids just for your ears.
His childlike glee is so infectious, you could spend hours lost in his effusive tutelage.
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO
Initially seems more than a little apprehensive and out of his element.
But quickly soaks in the tranquil ambiance, finally able to relax his guard fully.
Studies each work in contemplative silence, absorbing their essence and nuances.
Surprisingly moves to your side, satisfied melding against your warmth without words.
It’s that a faint, contented smile you spy ghosting across those sharps features…?
TOJI FUSHIGURO
Just rolls his eyes and scoffs when you propose this big softie date idea.
But his gruff demeanor only lasts until you bat those big eyes and pout fetchingly.
Then the big lug turns to utter puddy, trailing adoringly after your every move.
Acts all nonchalant examining the exhibits, even pipes up with random trivia knowledge.
But there's no hiding that unbearably smug grin when he thinks you're not looking.
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tmntxthings · 2 years ago
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Fun fact: Turtles touch/tap the face of their partner as a form mating display, so can we get some head canons of the rise boys unconsciously/involuntarily touching their s/o face, like cupping their cheeks with one or both hands habitually whenever they're in arms length or tapping/brushing the back of their hand on s/o cheek to get their attention?
Turtle Taps
author’s note: here you are cute anon!! i was smitten with this idea but it only came to fruition bc of @marwhoa’s encouragement hehe
warnings: fluff, kisses, established relationships, unedited
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Leonardo
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he would poke
idk but i imagine when the two of you were close friends, borderline dating, he’d ‘annoy’ you by poking your face, especially those chubby cheeks of yours
you would complain, batting his hands away, and as friends that was fine but when the two of you started dating it would hurt his feelings
“I can’t help it!” “You’re just too cute!” He’d repeat those excuses, not truly explaining the full meaning behind his repeated actions. And Leo would’ve never told you!
The two of you were dozed off during a movie marathon in the projector room. Laying in bean bags that were pressed together, Leo had made sure his was close to yours. He woke up first and as he turned to see your sleeping form his hands went out on their own accord.
Cupping your cheeks gently and his thumbs giving soft taps. He felt so happy when you snuggled your face further into his hands. So happy in fact that he couldn’t help it when he started poking those chubby cheeks
Your eyes snapped open, “Leo!” You grumped, wanting nothing more than to fall back asleep. His hands would freeze, his eyes widening, feeling badly about having gotten caught and your rejection as you batted his hands away once again.
He quickly got up, mumbling an excuse about getting something to eat. His immediate reaction had you sitting up, feeling guilty for having hurt his feelings you finally did a google search.
‘Why do turtles tap faces?’ Upon further research after being so utterly shocked at the initial results. You felt like a fool. You got up, blushing furiously as you rushed to the kitchen. Leo was faced away from you but he heard your approach and asked if you wanted something to eat as well. “We got leftover piz-
He stopped short as he felt your hands encase his face. Then hesitantly only out of nerves, you started to lightly tap his green cheeks. Leo was a churring mess, moving too fast so he could turn to see you. You pulled back and he was smiling brightly, face awaiting for you to continue your earlier actions
So you complied, hands going out once more and you tapped his cheeks, the smile Leo gave you practically blinded you. “You could’ve told me what this actually meant!” You complained, poking his cheeks in the same annoying way he would, but he’d just nuzzle his face into your touches
“Yeah I guess I could’ve,” he mused. He had been too embarrassed to just say it. That and he just wasn’t the type to admit the truth that easily. But if he had known your reaction would’ve been this he’d have spilled sooner. You smile and shake your head, stilling your hands and pulling him close to plant a sweet kiss to his snout.
Michelangelo
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Mikey would squish your face in pure excitement. He’s just so happy, he can’t contain himself, he’s squishing your cheeks together.
He could be on the whole other side of the room, or not in the same space at all, but he’ll run through the lair, find you at random and squish your cheeks together squealing about something that excited him.
Definitely happens so much that you’ve accepted it at this point, you’ll see him barreling towards you (yes he’s tackled you to the ground a couple times when you weren’t prepared for him to jump you!) and accept your fate
You try to play it off sometimes like you’re annoyed but truthfully it’s just so cute and endearing, when he’s reallyyyyy happy or when the two of you are alone he’ll squish your cheeks together and peck your lips with a soft kiss. A flurry of them too, you’re not just getting one kiss
Many many swift kisses in rapid session, and let’s say he just won in a video game, the arcade room empty except for you two, he’ll give the room a quick scan before he’s on you
“Y/n!!!! I wonnn !! Hehe did ya see??” He squishes your cheeks together while he speaks and as soon as he’s done he’s kissing you before you can answer, you hadn’t seen him win, you were playing your own game but he didn’t need to know that
Once he parted you spoke though your speech sounded slightly off because he still had his hands cupping your face, squishing, “ ‘hat’s awesome Mikey” he’d blush, coming down from the excitement
It was like his thoughts would come after he took action, taking note of his hands and how his lips felt, he’d pull you closer, slower this time and giving you a breath-taking smooch
Only this time he had forgotten to glance around beforehand so he flinched as he heard the snap of a camera. “Oh don’t mind me lovebirds, just documenting for future-“ Leo stopped midway realizing Mikey was actually quite close all of the sudden
“Give that here!! Leo!!” Mikey yelled chasing after his older brother. Of course it had been Leo, laughter and yelling could be heard throughout the lair and you were sure everyone would be witnessing this spectacle, you chuckled strolling at a leisure pace after your orange clad turtle
Donatello
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Donnie brushes you with his hand
It doesn’t happen often and when it happens it surprises Donnie the most out of the two of you
He’ll be overthinking or had gotten so overworked that Donnie will blink and suddenly you’re in front of him with worried eyes, your mouth moving but he doesn’t hear anything as his hands reach out as if by instinct and he’s brushing the back of his hand against your cheek
He’s blinking slowly and watching your expression soften as you gingerly do the same to him, giving him time to move away if he doesn’t want your touch. But this time he does want it, he’s exhausted honestly but as soon as he feels your fingers brushing against his green cheek he’s sighing
Like he’s expelling all the stress and worries he had minutes earlier, he’s leaning into your touch and it’s like his battery that was depleted is now recharging
He stays there, nuzzling his face into your hand as Donnie continues brushing or just holding your face close to his own. Once he’s charged though he’ll blink and suddenly remember himself, pulling back sharply and blushing a darker green
Coughing into his fist as you pull back, smirking at his embarrassed reaction, “How about we eat some pizza and you go to bed? Hmmm Donatello??” Teasing him no doubt but making sure he understands that it’s probably best to take a break from his projects
“Sure, sure.” Donnie’s standing stiffly, one hand coming up to cover another fit of embarrassed coughs as he swiftly leaves the lab, you follow him smiling to yourself as your own cheeks felt warm.
Raphael
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Raph gives you light taps
He’s always treating you with an extra amount of care. He’d never forgive himself if he was the cause to your pain.
Raph isn’t as shy as he is with his feelings towards tapping you, but he is similar in a way that he doesn’t do it super often
If you’re around and the two of you aren’t alone he’ll probably hold himself back but if you are alone he likes greeting you with light taps to your cheek
He’ll be a blushing mess, eyes cast everywhere but at you and Raph will give you sweet gentle taps, he only makes eye contact when your hands cover his, giggling at his expression
“Still so shy even after all this time?” You quip and Raph gives you a bashful grin, “Only with this!” And he’ll kiss you easily to prove the point. He definitely isn’t shy about that which shocks you more since these cute taps don’t seem that embarrassing
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dangerous-yam-fries · 2 months ago
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Male Naga x GN!Reader - NSFW
Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!
Warnings: Stockholm syndrome, envenomation, hemipenes, cock-warming, terato, yandere behavior, MINORS LEAVE NOW
You had been hasty when you initiated sexual acts with what should be your research specimen. And now that you were coming down from a rather hazy high, you had time to collect your thoughts and set your mind straight.
Something had tried to kill you back in the pond, but you weren’t sure what. When you woke up you where entrapped within the fleshy, scaly bind of Hyacinths tail, and then you, and him, had sex. You had to get to the bottom of what happened at the pond before you passed out, but you didn’t have the heart to question Hyacinth. Not after you molested and coerced him into having sex with you… if anything, he was victim here! But… his dicks were still inside of you.
“Stressed? (Name)?” Hyacinth shifted behind you, his hemipenes wriggling against your walls as he readjusts himself.
��Uh… Hyacinth… I don’t remember much from before I passed out, but I did wake up with you…” He wrapped his arms around you slightly tighter, resting his head on your shoulder and looking at you. Your breath hitched at his eyes, they were probably the reason you weren’t angry or upset about your current situation. His eyes were so beautiful, it just made any negative feelings melt away, and you could feel yourself relaxing.
“Someone attacked you, I’m adept in water, and I saw no reason for you to die.” His eyelashes batted against his cheeks as he blinked, his lips moved so gracefully that you almost couldn’t focus on his words. “So I saved you, and took you back to my… humble abode.” His lips curled into a smile that he pressed to your cheek, his eyes gazing into yours.
“Thank you, Hyacinth. I… probably would’ve died without your help.” You turn your head and kiss his cheek, ghosting his lips with your own.
“You’re welcome then, pet.” His voice is quiet and he kisses you gently, his cocks moving inside of you, slippery and hot. He brings his mouth down to your shoulder and bites into it, releasing more of his venom into your bloodstream.
Hyacinths venom has various uses, one of which works as a sexual stimulant. But you were too high off it to realize. “Just relax, you’re safe here with me. No need to think about anything else~” His voice was quiet, his forked tongue grazing along your neck and chin, pulling you into another kiss.
“Mmm-hm.” You mumble and turn your body so that you’re facing him, a lusty fog settling over your brain, addling your body with heat. You shiver and shake as his dicks move inside of you, poking the parts that make your head throwback in eye rolling pleasure.
Your hole feels loose from cock warming and love making, but Hyacinth sighs at your warmth wrapping around him, your insides tightening as he deepens the kiss. His tongue is long and dexterous, wrapping around yours in a hot, wet, dance dripping with arousal. He moans into your mouth obscenely, making you whimper and shake around him.
“You feel so good, (Name). I really, really adore you, pet.” Hyacinth breaks away from the kiss and whispers, his opalescent eyes gazing into yours as he finishes inside of you with a few thrusts into your heat. “I love you, so much.” His face is flushed and sweaty, his scars looking pinker than usual, his hair is messy and sticking to his skin. And his eyes look scared, like he’s afraid of your verdict, your reaction, and you can see that he is hanging onto your very breath.
“I… adore you as well, Hyacinth.” Even high off his venom and sex, you’ve still only known him for a day, you couldn’t break out the L-Word just yet. Hyacinth knew he couldn’t ask too much of you, but your words were enough for now. He chuckled breathlessly, smiling and pressing his forehead to yours to look into your eyes from up close.
“Am I adorable? Do you find me cute?” His smile is so pure for such a dirty moment that it takes your breath away, making you giggle as well. You can feel Hyacinths dicks squirming inside of you, mildly stimulated from your laughter. He blushes and pulls out, you can feel something leaking from your hole, clenching around air as you respond.
“You’re so adorable, and I think you’re very cute, Hyacinth.” You wrap your arms around his neck and rub his back, reaching up to play with his chocolate-brown hair. “You’re beautiful, so beautiful…” You sigh, looking in his eyes is like staring down eternity. It’s so calming and peaceful, so enchanting.
“I think you’re adorable, and cute.” He kisses your lips. “And smart.” A kiss to your nose. “And handsome.” He kisses your cheek. “And far more beautiful than me, pet.” He stops to look you dead in the eyes, his eyes shine with contemplation. “I love you so much, (Name).”
His words are sobering, lifting your head from the clouds of horniness. What you were doing right now was dangerous and stupid, you should be bringing him back to camp and gathering samples. But you didn’t want him to catch on to your mental state. You knew that he injected you with his venom for a reason, and you didn’t want to be subjected to it again.
“I think I… love you too, Hyacinth.” You need to play along to reach your objective, and while you don’t want to manipulate the one that saved you, it’s the only way.
He beamed at your words, his smile growing and his eyes lighting up. You would have to be careful of his eyes, they might just break your resolve. “That… You make me so happy, pet. I love you. It feels good to say.” He giggles and kisses you, you kiss back and quickly pull away. Your insides ached and your hole burned, your neck stinging from his bites, bleeding in places. “Pet?”
“Hyacinth… I was wondering if I could put my clothes back on, and maybe take you back to my camp so we could eat something. Together.” You ask timidly, looking over his shoulder to the mangled cloth that was your clothes.
“I have plenty of food here, no need to worry.” Your eyes watched his tail move across the room, picking up a plump looking fruit. He readjusts his posture so that your sitting on him, your back to his stomach, his hands rubbing your sides. “Only the best for you, pet.” He whispers into your ear and kisses your cheek, rubbing his cheek against yours.
“Thank you, Hyacinth. It looks delicious.” Well that plan failed. But the fruit did look good, a ripe yellow outside, with some slight enzymatic browning, but you could tell it was bursting with juice. He cracks it open with ease, and sure enough, juice came dripping from it, glistening on his sharp nails and veiny hands.
“Eat up, pet. It’s hydrating as well.” He brings the plump inside up to your mouth, and you sheepishly take a bite. You roll the flavorful fruit in your mouth, despite its pale color it’s plush with sweetness and endlessly refreshing after not eating for half a day.
“It’s good… what’s it called?” You ask, chewing on it. Cataloging different flora was a part of your job, so it counted as work. Barely.
He let out a serious of hisses and purrs, laughing at your reaction. “In your language, it means ‘sweet solid water’. We’re very literal in our speech.”
“Sweet solid water, huh? I’ve never seen a fruit like this. In fact, I’m here on a research mission, my team is working on finding things like this. Things that are new to our species. If I could take some of this back to camp with me-“
“Do you really have to leave so soon? You should rest with me, where you’re safe.” His voice emphasized ‘safe’, and you could feel his arms tighten around your stomach.
“You should come with me, I… specialize in the study of snakes, so it would mean a lot to me if you’d let me study you. We would spend a lot of time together…” You gulped and tried to relax your body, leaning into his touch.
“Not all humans are as kind as you, pet. We should stay here for now. Let’s not think to hard on this, alright?” It was less of a question and more of an order, one that made your blood run cold.
“Sounds like a plan. You think I could have some more of that fruit?” Something didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t just aches from sex or hunger. But Hyacinth was still a naga, the very creature you had been looking so hard for, and you weren’t going to let wriggle his way out of your grasp.
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gor3-hound · 11 months ago
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silver lining
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+ content, hybrid!reader, very brief suicide mention, p in v, creampie, daddy kink, a LOT of pet names
a/n: hiii! throwing out some (kinda) fluffy smut for once lmao. mainly picturing vendetta leon, but any older leon works tbh. i'm so tired, so if you see typos, no, you don't >:[ hope you enjoy !!
word count: 1.7k words
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Raccoon City was something that Leon would never forget. It's been years since the incident, and he still wakes up in a cold sweat some nights with nightmares of the things he'd seen.
It's fucked him up in more ways than one. He would have killed himself a long time ago if he was sure that Sherry would be safe. The “top secret programme” the government so lovingly initiated him into isn't the way he saw his life going - but if it kept her safe, he'd grit his teeth and bare it.
Sure, he's made his peace with it, but it doesn't make it any less difficult. He runs around like the government's personal lap dog and then comes home and drinks himself half to death. It's a routine he's gotten used to, and he doesn't plan on changing it anytime soon.
But it gets lonely. He's not a stranger to flirting with a pretty girl in the bar, but he never manages to get them to stay. He's not sure he's capable of forming a relationship anymore. Work always comes up, and no woman seems to want to stick around when he disappears for weeks or months at a time.
When he was younger, he always wanted a dog. That was another thing Raccoon City took from him. He still flinches when a dog moves too fast near him or gets too close. He's never been a cat person, either. Thinks they're grumpy bastards at the best of times.
He leaves it at that for a while. Looks like he's destined to be alone. Whatever. He's used to it by now. Or he thinks so, at least, until he starts to hear about hybrids becoming more commercially available as pets.
They've been around for a while, sure, but they were the type of exotic pet rich assholes buy to show off. He hears about the new hybrid adoption center opening in his city and spends one of his only weekends off doing a shit ton of research. He's not entirely convinced, but he figures there's no harm in taking a look. As soon as he spots you, he knows he's smitten. Bat your pretty lashes at him, and he'd do anything you asked.
You're the cutest little puppy girl he's ever seen. Fluffy ears atop your head, your tail wagging so fast behind you it's practically a blur. He doesn't even think about it when he calls a worker over, paying for you then and there. He doesn't even blink at the amount of money you cost him. He'd sell a kidney to be able to afford you if he needed it. At least the government pays well.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
It's been a few months since he brought you home with him. You were a pain in the ass at first, constantly bouncing around his apartment. Your tail was a hazard, always knocking things off his table and breaking things.
He wouldn't change it for the world, though. You've become the highlight of his day. He finds himself smiling as he opens the door to his apartment, hearing you thunder towards the front door as he walks in. He can't help but chuckle as you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning up to lick at his face.
“Alright. Easy, girl. Easy.” He says with a smile, pushing you off him and ruffling your hair as he steps past you. He shrugs off his jacket, hanging it up and settling on the couch. “I had a long day, y'know? Could at least let me through the door before you jump all over me.”
“But I missed you.” You whine as he pushes you away from him, following him closely as he moves to sit on the couch.
“Yeah, yeah. I missed you, too, pup.” Leon says with a grin, patting his lap. He waits for you to jump in his lap, leaning back comfortably. “C'mere, then. Don't you wanna come sit with daddy?”
Your tail wags lazily behind you as you shift closer, straddling his lap happily. His hands settle on your waist to tug you closer, and he rubs small circles into you with his thumb.
“Missed you.” You repeat softly, cuddling close to him.
“You’re a sweet girl.” He nuzzles his nose into your head and caresses your hair. “A good girl…” 
Leon hums quietly and his hand starts to wander along your side and up towards your chest. “And beautiful, too. Can't believe I got so lucky, baby.”
You giggle softly at that, tail wagging just a little bit faster as you press your chest into his hand, shivering as his thumb brushes your sensitive nipple over your shirt.
“D'you wanna play with me, daddy?” You ask softly, trying to press as close to him as possible. Your hips start moving on their own, rutting your aching pussy against the hard muscle of his thigh. You bury your face in his neck, inhaling his scent deeply. He always smells so good when he gets back from work, sweat clinging to his skin. 
“I just got back, baby. What's got you so worked up, huh?” He teases softly, grabbing your hips and adjusting them so you're grinding down onto his steadily hardening cock over his pants instead. He groans softly, reaching around to pet the base of your sensitive tail.
That gets a twitch and a whine from you, making the corner of his mouth tug up into a lazy smile. He rocks his hips up into you until he's fully hard and leaking.
“Alright, alright. C'mon, puppy. Let's get you to bed.” He grunts, trying to act like he isn't as desperate as you. His voice is low and gravelly, brows furrowed in concentration as he lifts you up, carrying you to the bedroom.
He plops you down on the bed, kicking his shoes off and pulling off his jacket. His hands roam your body, tugging off your clothes as he runs his palms along your curves. His eyes take you I'm greedily, his hands working to undress himself instantly.
“Fuck.” He groans as you shift on your hands and knees, ass up in the air as soon as you see his cock. His cock twitches, pre-cum leaking and staining his stomach. “Always so eager…”
All he gets is a whine and an ass wiggle in response. You lift your tail straight up, presenting your glistening pussy for his hungry eyes. “Daddy, please…”
“Yeah, yeah. I got you.” He murmurs, settling between your legs. He runs the pads of two fingers between your glistening folds, dragging them from your clit to your entrance, gathering the slick dripping from you before pushing them inside.
He thrusts them in and out a few times, letting you get used to the intrusion. Not that you need it - your pussy is always so drippy, sucking him in greedily every chance it gets. He curls his fingers, earning a low moan from you, your cute ears pressing firmly against your head.
“That's it.” He coos, repeating the action every time his fingers are half buried inside of you. “There's my good girl. You want my cock, don't you, sweet thing?”
All you can manage is to babble please repeatedly, already so desperate for him. He's not sure how he ever managed without you. You always make him feel so wanted, and not just when he's buried balls deep inside of you. It's nice. Makes an unfamiliar warmth build in his chest, something he hasn't felt since he was still a bright-eyed kid in the police academy.
“Don't worry, baby, I got what you need.” He says softly, pulling his fingers out of you and rubbing your juices onto the sheets before grabbing your hips. His breath hitches as he slides his length into your tight heat, his head tilting back in pleasure before he lets out a low moan.
He leans over you, pressing some of his weight against you as he starts to thrust slow and deep. He presses his lips to the back of your neck before leaning back, his thrusts picking up in pace.
“Such a pretty puppy.” He groans, gripping your tail to pull you back against him every time he fucks into you. The room is filled with your needy moans and the sounds of your sloppy pussy.
“Daddy…” you whine, drool spilling past your lips and onto the pillow your face is smashed against. He can feel you tightening around him, so he knows you're close. He adjusts his angle slightly so he rubs up against that sweet spot that makes you see stars every time he pushes in.
“C'mon, cum for me, pretty girl.” He grunts, hand tightening on your tail as the other slides up from your hip to your waist, giving him more leverage ti rock you back onto his cock.
“Fuck, daddy… cummin’!” You moan, your walls clenching so tight around him you almost push him out. He presses his hips against your ass and thrusts shallowly, keeping him buried deep inside of you as his tip grinds against your cervix.
His mouth hangs open as he feels you gushing all over him, his breath caught in his throat as his cock jumps and kicks against your cervix, the feeling of your pussy fluttering around him making him shoot ropes of his cum deep inside of you.
You whine softly again, slumping against the crumpled sheets. His breathing is slightly heavy as he drops his weight on you, pressing you against the bed.
You grunt at the feeling of him dropping on top of you, wriggling yourself free with a soft huff. You cuddle up to him after, ignoring the feeling of his cum leaking down your thighs. You give him a few locks to his stubble cheeks before cuddling up to him with a smile.
“Sleepy.” You huff softly, nuzzling into his neck with a content sigh, your eyes fluttering shut. He lazily wraps an arm around you, tugging you closer to him and petting your back.
“I bet. C'mon, baby. Think we deserve a nap.” He murmurs, kissing your forehead before letting his eyes shut, too.
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thesummerpetrichor · 1 year ago
Text
𝓞𝓯𝓯 𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓬𝓮𝓼
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Javier Peña x afab!reader
Summary: You’re a sociology student writing your final thesis, you shouldn’t care whether the new DEA attaché is an asshole, you shouldn’t be getting on his nerves every chance you get, shouldn’t be dreaming of him the way you do, and you certainly shouldn’t be bent over his desk in the middle of the night– letting him fuck you senseless.
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, big girthy age gap [reader is in her early twenties Javier is in his mid 40s], petnames [sweetheart, girlie, baby, babygirl etc], smut, explicit sexual content, explicit language, daddy kink, dom!Javi, mean brat tamer! javi, sub!reader, major size kink, reader is a menace and a brat, cheek pulling, like two spanks and a slap, minor choking, degradation, name calling, fingering, semi public sex [in his office], rough sex, unprotected P in V [don't do it you’re better than them!!] let me know if I missed anything!!
Word count: 8.7k
A/N: Lotsa porn, lotsa plot. Filthier than I’d like to admit but here we are. Javier is emotionally unavailable but I don’t care. Enjoy nasties. Mwah 💗
Masterlist
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My old man is a bad man, but
I can't deny the way he holds my hand
And he grabs me, he has me by my heart
He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past
He doesn't mind I have a L.A. crass way about me
He loves me, with every beat of his cocaine heart
You were sure you looked nothing short of unstable– the way you were smiling to yourself as you hit the ‘submit’ button on the first checkpoint of your research paper. The past few months had been absolute chaos, and you weren’t really sure what was worse; the fact that your workplace had become an HR nightmare, or the way you were enjoying every goddamn second of it. 
Not long ago you’d been lucky enough to pack your bags and board a flight to Bogotá, where you were going to be writing your final sociology thesis. You’d fought tooth and nail with the department for this opportunity, and the fact that you were finally going to be there doing the work you’d always imagined– it was a dream. While you were initially a little weary of having to go through the American embassy to access records, and archives, you knew this was the best deal you were going to get, so you pushed your hesitation aside and took them up on their offer. You were obviously aware the department was going to give you hell for it– your work would be put under immeasurable scrutiny, they were going to bother you with emails all day every day, snoop around your work through their contacts at the embassy, and take any chance to fly you back. But it didn’t matter; it was going to be a dream. 
Impressing the ambassador was your top priority, impressing everyone around you really was. For as long as you could remember your bright smile, hard work and sunshine attitude had only worked in your favor. If there was one thing you enjoyed, it was the great privilege of being all your professors’ favorite student. That’s how you’d even convinced them to let you travel thousands of miles away on the university’s dime in the first place. 
The world of academia was hard, especially when you were starting out, everyone you dealt with wasn’t a progressive professor who valued your opinion despite your age and gender. Sometimes you needed help from the sleazy HOD, or the grumpy receptionist and neither cared about your expertise on Helmut Schoeck. It didn’t bother you, all you cared about was the quality of your work, and you were not going to let anyone get in the way of it. So, if good work and behaviour didn't get you what you wanted you just used your batting eyelashes, innocent pout and harmless bribes– the receptionist had mentioned liking strawberry shortcake nearly two years ago in passing, and that information sure as hell came in handy when you needed to get your paperwork sorted out. 
Boy did that skill of yours come in handy during your time in Bogotá
No one was going to make this experience anything but splendid, you were going to get to the embassy, meet the ambassador, charm her and all her coworkers in no time, make some trusted allies and go about your research unbothered and unfazed. You were determined. It was going to be a dream. 
That was until it was an absolute nightmare. The moment your plane’s wheels hit the tarmac you were slapped with wave after wave of absolute frustration. Your phone was inundated with missed calls from an unknown number, and when you called back you were promptly informed by the Ambassador’s secretary that due to spacing issues you were being relocated to the DEA offices at the far end of the embassy. 
Great, nothing better than being around a bunch of cops 24/7 .
You hadn’t made it three steps off the aerobridge before two men– both of whom looked terribly out of place in their baseball hats, grabbed you by the arm and dragged you through the airport. You wouldn’t say the word ‘accosted’ was dramatic when describing the way two employees of the American embassy had apprehended you. They didn't seem much older than you were, but they sure as hell thought they ran the damn place. When you thought about elitist diplomats thinking they were doing god's work you could be sure you imagined Agent Daniel Van Ness and Agent Chris Feistl’s faces before you’d even met them. 
“Ow! What the hell do you think you're doing?!” Van Ness pretty much tossed you into his suspicious, unmarked vehicle, and as if you weren’t sore from your excruciatingly long flight you were sure you were going to need some ice packs when you got to your service apartment. “Okay, let's not make a scene, as I said we were told to get you as soon as you got off that plane” Feistl started the engine with one hand, and put the other one up in mock surrender. 
“Didn’t know kidnapping was part of the Ambassador's agenda in Bogotá” .
The car ride to the embassy was mostly quiet, and you took the time to enjoy the beautiful Colombian city as it came into view, clear your head and mentally plan for your stay. That was, save for the two men’s grumbling about a certain Javier Peña. “Yeah, we miss this meeting and Peña’s gonna be on our ass for the next week” You’d quickly learnt he was a little bit of a hero in the DEA world, whatever that meant– took down Escobar and all. And if you couldn’t loathe him more already he was now promoted to attaché. From what Van Ness and Feistl told you  he sounded like a character– hard ass, stubborn, insolent, the list went on and on. This Javier must really be something
How bad could he really be? Probably some grumpy old guy you’d run into once in a while at the water station or fax machine. He’d pay no mind to you; some irrelevant college student. Besides, you’d win him over with your signature smile. Who knew maybe you’d even become friends? “Well Im looking forward to meeting this Javier Peña” 
 “No one has ever said that. I don't think his mother said that when he was poppin’ out.” 
And boy were they right, Javier Peña really was something. The elevator doors opened to what would soon become a familiar sight– Javier trailing the ambassador as she tried to escape him and the DEA offices. “With all due respect, if I wanted to be a babysitter I would've taken up a job with the RIPs”  She turned to face him, her back to you. “Agent Peña, I'm going to repeat myself one more time, and I really shouldn't have to, but please stop referring to them as the “RIP’’s ”. Talk about professionalism, you definitely weren’t expecting whatever the hell this was when you thought of diplomatic work. 
Noonan almost unceremoniously bumped into you as she skirted away from Javier, raising her hands in absolute elation now that he had to take care of you, and couldn’t bother her any longer. “There you are, perfect! Agent Peña show her around, and please, be nice.” She all but pushed you into him, and you heard Javier helplessly and pathetically yell after her as she walked to the elevator. “I still need that clearance ambassador–” 
Despite the fact that he was looking at you like he wanted to tear you apart you didn't let that distract from the absolute marvel Javier Peña was. If you didn’t know any better you’d be on your knees for the man, and you couldn’t trust that you did. With the way his hair sat messily ruffled atop his head in soft curls, falling dangerously close to his eyes, or the way his now crinkled button up from the tiring workday hugged his forearms, who could blame you? Who knew, maybe you even liked the way he looked at you? 
You shot him your signature smile, and extended your hand to introduce yourself. Forget about Noonan, she’d probably retire soon anyway, it was his approval you really wanted now. With brows raised he took his time assessing you. You didn’t miss the way his eyes raked over your body, or the way he chewed on his lip as he did so. Feeling a little, or maybe very, hot under his gaze you shifted uncomfortably, still holding your hand out politely, but all you got from him besides his shameless gawking was a condescending chuckle, and he was turning away and walking back inside. 
So he really was an asshole. 
You stood in shock for a moment. Was this some sort of odd hazing process at the embassy? What the hell was going on? His voice zapped you out of the absolute embarrassment of an interaction you just had. “You gonna stand there all day?” God he was such a prick. You’d barely been there two minutes and you were already on Van Ness and Feist's team. You couldn’t even imagine what life would be like if he was your boss. Or could you? 
Your gaze hardened at the realization. If there was one thing you were not going to do it was lust hopelessly after a man who didn't even want to give you the time of day, someone who thought he was so much better than you were. You were not going to inflate his already massive ego by crooning for his praise, no! You were not going to let him wield that kind of power over you. 
You watched as he walked through the office, the man sucked the air outta the room with the way he quite literally strutted across it. Practically dragging yourself behind him you tried your best to compose yourself, you were not going to let Peña and his asshole ways ruin your stay– he was going to like you, going to give you the time of day– and if hard work and a good attitude didn’t do it, your batting lashes certainly would.  
Swimmin' pool glimmerin', darling
White bikini off with my red nail polish
Watch me in the swimmin' pool, bright blue ripples
You sittin', sippin' on your Black Cristal, oh, yeah
In the subsequent days you surprisingly had made yourself quite at home in the embassy– after all you did spend almost all of your day there. Van Ness and Fiestl soon became great friends, and would often drop by your workstation during breaks, or to invite you out for drinks after work. Things were going rather well, there was nothing much to complain about. The people who worked at the embassy were really friendly, and many of them took a liking to you. If charming your way into everyone's good graces was still your plan it sure as hell was working. 
You’d even met a certain blonde haired, blue eyed office heartthrob. While they were both certainly easy on the eyes, Agent Murphy was otherwise little like his partner, he was friendly, helpful, and generally in a good mood. Hell he even wished you ‘good morning’ when he got into work everyday. In due time you could even say Steve Murphy had become somewhat of a friend, he was quite fond of you– then again everyone in the office really was. 
That is almost everyone. 
Progress in the Javier department of your life had barely made moves. He was such a dick. On your second day you remember knocking on his door and politely asking if he could sign some papers that would get you some cultural records in Bogotá. You didn’t know what response you’d been expecting, but he'd essentially told you to leave him the hell alone.  
You wondered if being such a bitter jerk was exhausting. “Now girlie, runalong..” And with that he shut his door. You didn't want to let it affect you, but it did. You crooned for his attention, but he was so cold and detached, and nothing seemed to get through to him. The smiles, the ‘good mornings’, the way you’d offered to drop his files at the Ambassador's on your way there, it did nothing. He only smiled at you condescendingly, and at one point even joked about how he wasn’t sure you were capable of making it to the other side of the building. 
“Don't worry your head about these files, wouldn’t want you wandering around, lost, tryna find Noonan’s office.” 
Not to mention how he couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your “silly little paper”, how your work was “cute” or “funny”. God, you couldn’t stand it. The way he leaned over your desk, jumbled up your resources while he carelessly looked through them. With his messy, loose tie, and his sideways smile, and warm, comforting brown eyes, and that mocking teasing tone…... 
—- 
My old man is a tough man, but
He got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam
And he shows me, he knows me
Every inch of my tar-black soul
“If he can’t drink it, or fuck it, he’s not interested.” When Feistl had told you that on your first day you scoffed, but it proved to be valuable, and unbelievably, true information in no time. Unintentionally Javier had condemned himself to an eternal state of perdition, you were not giving up, and this time you were going to drive him crazy. 
He surely wasn’t prepared for the little menace you became in the following weeks. You only felt pride when you’d catch him looking at you– embarrassing how he couldn't keep his eyes off. You and your cute little dresses, skirts, those you didn’t initially plan to wear to the office. His glare almost burnt a hole in your back everyday at midday, hotter than the afternoon sun peaking through the blind covered windows as you sat on Van Ness’ desk, laughing at something Feistl said. If there was one thing worse than an HR violation, it was an HR violation with a girl nearly half his age.
You’d found a fancy for discovering his ticks, new ways you could push his buttons. When you weren’t calling him sir as you addressed him, or taunting him with your dopey eyes and girlish smiles you were making his life a lot less convenient. 
“Where the hell is Peña” at least twice a week Stechner would all but slither into the office, talking about congress people, funding and how the DEA was raining all over his parade. As much as you hated the man, he was your trusted ally in trying times, especially when you decided breaking the office’s unspoken rule was going to be your new favorite pastime. That rule was of course, never telling anyone, especially his colleagues, where the hell Javier Peña was at any given time. 
So when Bill walked up to you and leaned beside your desk you faithfully pointed to the filing room you knew Javier was quite literally hiding in. When he walked, more like stormed out with Bill you were sure he could break you in half, the way he was looking at you, but you had given up lying to yourself, you loved it. Every morning he’d come into the office and have to find other places to escape to– from Noonan and Murphy and all other accountability. But for a cop he was pretty shit at it, and you always found a way to tell where it was he'd gone to. It also helped that nearly everyone enjoyed it when Javier had to deal with the bureaucracy, it was free reality tv, and you could be sure if you didn’t know who or what he was trying to avoid, someone else in the office surely would.
You had simultaneously become a great asset to Steve Murphy, who was, more than you expected, willing and enthusiastic about getting shit done, shit that Javier’s stubbornness would only prolong, especially because he knew the mix of Peña and the CIA was anything but productive. Whether it was distracting him while he got support for their missions, or rushing to answer the phones and covering for him and making Javi deal with Noonan you were always game. Murphy was always appreciative. 
“Steve’s out right now, but Javier’s in his office if you’d like to speak with him…” Steve pretty much cackled behind his desk as you handed the phone’s receiver to Peña, and watched as he exhaled heavily through his nose, using every bit of restraint he could possibly muster not to kick the two of you out of the building. He settled for flipping Murphy off instead. 
As someone who wasn’t an embassy employee you pretty much had free reign over the place, and you knew it only made Javier more upset knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. You were thoroughly enjoying your time in Bogotá, you knew Javier was thinking about you, you knew how much you got on his nerves, you loved the way he’d glare at you, boss you around, get annoyed at your little antics. You craved his attention and you were finally getting it. 
Though every once in a while you’d feel a little pang in your chest, at the way he’d roll his eyes at you, be his regular mean self. But you shoved that feeling aside, you did not want his approval. That would be pathetic. You just wanted a little payback.
He doesn't mind I have a flat broke-down life
In fact, he says he thinks it's what he might like about me
Admires me, the way I roll like a rolling stone
Javier had been avoiding you like the plague for a good two days. That was after he overheard a conversation you were having with your supervisor he wasn’t really meant to be a party to. You remember twirling the cord wire between your fingers as you updated her over the phone. “Yeah, I need to get to the congress library, they have all the copies there.” You pushed the speaker button, letting go of the receiver to sift through the piles of printed paper on your desk. “Do you have access, did the embassy get you an ID? I spoke to Noonan but she’s busy babysitting her employees.” You bit back a smile. Javier and Murphy sure were a handful. 
“No, of course they didn’t. They don’t give a rat's ass” Frankly, you were exhausted from having to get or find somebody to do anything around there. Noonan was practically no help until the dean was breathing down her neck, for people who had been working in Bogotà for years very few in the embassy knew the directions to anyplace that wasn’t a bar, and everyone was far too busy kissing each other’s ass to get things done. “The DEA can go, can't they? Get one of em to take you” Before you could respond you heard the rattling of the water cooler behind you, and you caught Javier’s half shocked half annoyed expression in the reflection of the window as he scrambled for a paper napkin to wipe the water off his dress shirt.  
“Hmm, I didn’t think of that…..that's a great idea” 
That was on Monday. Tuesday and Wednesday were spent turning in the opposite direction anytime you approached him, sneaking past you on his way in and out, and begging Murphy to take that trip to the Congress library instead. On Thursday you were sure you won the lottery. 
Both Murphy and Carillo in the same room, and better yet in the office before Javier had made his grand entrance. They stood over what looked to you like a large map, arguing about something with far too much energy at eight in the morning. You saw this as your little opening. Where the hell was Peña? 
Turns out he was with the Ambassador.  
—-
Likes to watch me in the glass room, bathroom, Château Marmont
Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup
Glass room, perfume, cognac, lilac fumes
Says it feels like heaven to him
“And you’re going too?” Ambassador Noonan sat back in her chair, twirling her pencil between her fingers, looking expectantly at the irate face in front of her. You thought you’d spare Agent Peña his white lies, answering promptly in that sweet voice of yours.  “Yes, Agent Murphy told me, and besides, if he's around I can access all the archives..” You shrugged your shoulders and shot her your most persuasive smile. “Government ID an’ all” . You almost felt bad for Peña, the way his friends were so quick to rat him out. But then again he’d stirred up enough petty fights over the years so that nearly everybody was quick to get their petty revenge. That jerk was planning to take his little trip to the library– with Carillio of all people, and he was going to leave you behind? Not anymore.
“Well, I don't see the problem, just take her to the goddamn library. Jesus Peña why is everything so difficult with you.” Javier shot you a glare you could only describe as deadly, but you could only giggle at his exasperation. He rose from his chair, leaning on her desk, like he was trying to seduce her into getting out of this situation. You wondered how Noonan showed so much restraint, if you were her you’d be giving into anything he said no questions asked. 
“Ambassador, really, all that is below my paygrade, don't ya think?” Your mouth fell agape, and you turned to him to find he was smiling, looking directly at you. Asshole  “This whole conversation is below my paygrade. You’re bothering me Peña, get to work..” and with that the two of you were practically kicked out of her office and thrown into the hall,  where in the deafening silence you heard the large wooden doors slam behind you. 
You were lucky there was no one else around, especially when he practically slammed you against the wall. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Tryna fuck my whole day over baby?” You had to physically fight yourself to not give into the death grip he had on your shoulders, to hold yourself up as he caged you against the corridor.  “I just really need these papers, and only you can get ‘em for me ” You bat your lashes at him, and he pressed his forehead against the wall beside you in complete frustration, sighing. He knew that wasn’t true, and he knew you did as well. Any intern could have gotten them for you, but who was an intern in comparison to him? 
“I won't bother you again, promise” you bit your lip and held your pinkie finger up in what Javier saw as practically an act of war. His hands moved from your shoulders to grab you by the waist as you looked up at him. Despite your smiley exterior you were all giddy on the inside, especially when he leant beside your ear and warned in his low whisper, thumbs drawing circles on your flesh. 
“You're playin’ with fire baby..” 
— 
I'm off to the races, laces
Leather on my waist is tight, and I am fallin' down
I can see your face, is shameless, Cipriani's Basement
Love you, but I'm goin' down
As much as you wanted to bother Javier during his little snoop session with Carillo, you still had a job to do, so you shoved your brattiness aside for a few hours and got to work finding the documents you needed from the archives. You were honestly expecting a medal for your self restraint, because once you were done you waited patiently till he strutted outside after his meeting, barely holding up the heavy box with all your findings. You’d been standing there for almost two hours, and the jerk hadn’t even given you a heads up so you could sit inside.
“Finally.” He rolled his eyes, and like he was running some sort of marathon didn’t bother even helping you, speed walking across the parking lot as you stumbled and struggled behind him– attempting to keep up. 
“We gotta get back, now.” 
You buckled your seatbelt as he pulled out of the driveway, and relaxed against your seat as you caught your breath. “Where’re we going?” He turned to you and smiled, but it was in that signature condescending way that he always did. Meanie You thought to yourself. “We are not going anywhere. You are going back to the office, and I am going to take care of something you don't need to worry about.” You didn't know whether there was any use still being offended by his patronizing attitude, he could’ve just said you were going back to the office, but that was too normal, too dignified of a response for the great, cartel busting Javier Peña 
“I could come.” He laughed at your pout, as he turned to look at you, rounding the corner. “Baby, don’t ya’ think that's a little ambitious comin’ from someone who got winded carrying a box across a parking lot.” You scoffed, yes, it would've been nice to have some help. “Don’t worry, I don’t want anything to do with whatever it is you're going to do, anyway” Wanting to turn away from him you looked out the window, but that only lasted so long. 
“If this lead comes through, everyone in Bogotà’s gonna want everything to do with it.” You watched as the setting sun drenched your surroundings in a golden glow, and you couldn’t look away from the way Javier’s brown eyes too turned into pools of gold as the sun caught them. His voice a low hum just a little louder than the radio he habitually played as he drove around. It took a special type of maniac to go on missions off the clock. 
“Who’s it for, the lead?” He hummed, and smiled to himself as he spoke, that look on his face you couldn’t quite place– like he was just waiting for his opponent to slip up.  “One of the big guys. You should meet him when we bring him in– you’d get along–  he's a pain in my ass” 
You turned your gaze from the opening embassy gates to meet his eyes, your own narrowed into slits as you stared him down– he was smiling, and you hated it. “Mean.” He shook his head at your irritation, and wordlessly pulled up into the driveway. “Now, you're gonna take those files, and you're gonna sit your bratty ass down, and you're gonna work on that silly paper of yours” You were halfway out the door, lifting the giant cardboard box off the floor of the car with embarrassing difficulty.
Great, there was another thing he could berate you for. 
“That's a lot of instructions..” Your voice was muffled behind your paperwork, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it when he tried to boss you around. 
“Well here's another– don't touch anything while I'm gone.” He laughed to himself as he caught your rolling eyes peering at him over the top of the box, that being the only part of you that was really visible to him. Waiting for you to make it to the entrance he watched as one of his colleagues, one of the many heading out for the day, took it from you, and helped you inside. 
The low hum of the radio replaced the sound of your voice, an old spanish tune coming over the static as he drove out and away from the embassy. 
God, I'm so crazy, baby
I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving
I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island
Raisin' hell all over town
Sorry 'bout it
“Didn't I specifically tell you not to touch anything” You lifted your head in the direction of that familiar voice, irritated as usual, but also a little more gruff, a little more tired. For a moment you regretted annexing his office while he was away. You watched as he sauntered in and towards his desk, opposite the little workstation you’d set up on a spare table where he’d dumped his tie and blazer for when the Ambassador popped around. He propped his hands on his desk, leaning against it to meet your gaze. 
God did he look good, the day had taken its toll on him, but it was only doing him favors. That soft brown hair had been ruffled out of place, and that crisp button up sat wrinkled on his back, loosely and messily tucked into his navy dress pants, sleeves haphazardly rolled up his forearms. While he looked like he worked a regular nine to five, from the little you knew about his job, an intentionally minimal amount, you were sure the unkemptness was the result of some high stakes chase, raid or whatever it was he’d set his head to doing that day.  
“‘M not touching, I just needed the AC” He rolled his eyes, but his neatly hung blazer and rolled up tie caught his attention from across the room. “See.. Untouched” You shot him that smile that you knew drove him up the wall, and he shook his head, now concerned more with sorting the paperwork splayed out in front of him. “Must be real hard, highlightin’ all that paper” He pointed to your reference material. As bad as the day was, it wasn't bad enough to persuade him to stop being a jerk.  
The place was a mess, and he couldn’t leave it this way till the morning, that would be a hit to his professionalism far worse than any of the shady shit he’d done over the years. He didn’t have time for your childish antics. At least for the moment. It’d been a long day and he wanted nothing more than to get it over with. Boy did he look like he needed to let off some steam, and while at first glance your actions were doing anything but helping him relax, couldn’t he see you were just begging for him to use you for exactly that? 
Maybe it was because he was tired of your shit, or because he was far too preoccupied with his work at the time, or because the office was dark and quiet and cold, but the next few minutes passed in uncharacteristic silence. You gazed up once in a while to see Javier’s scrunched brows sort through an abundance of filing. He’d sigh heavily every once in a while, and you could only wonder what or who, besides you, got on his nerves that much. You were almost eager to eliminate the competition. The world drowned out in the white noise of shuffling documents and clicking pens and you were once again lost in your paper. 
Every part of you really wished he wasn’t such an asshole. What had you ever done to him anyway, for him to be so cold and mean? You couldn’t pretend you had nothing to do with it, you'd egged him on beyond measure, but you’d only ever wanted him to like you. Okay maybe you thoroughly enjoyed his irritation, but you only really ever wanted his attention. Pathetic.. You thought to yourself. You pretended he wasn’t bothered by you taking over his office for a moment.
“Done yet?” You hadn’t even realized how or when Javier had crossed the room and made his way in front of you. His fingers danced on the edge of your laptop screen. You didn’t feel like answering just yet, so you typed away at your keyboard for a while longer. The silence wasn’t appreciated, and you could feel the exhaustion radiate off him like heat. You caught him fiddling with the pens on your desk, and skimming over some of your printed material from the corner of your eye, and you bit your lip to stifle your laughter when he chucked it back on your desk in what you assumed was complete disinterest. He was going to try harder to get your attention. 
You weren't prepared however when he practically slammed your laptop shut, forcing you to stop ignoring him. Talk about disrupting the workplace. Groaning, you rested your chin in your palms and peered up at him through dopey eyes. A man who had been driven to the edge, that's the gaze you met. It was not going to affect you, that muted rage, that wrought iron glare. You promised yourself. But your desires were already betraying you.. you rubbed your thighs together to alleviate the ache. 
“There a problem?” With a tone that set his last teeth on edge you kept up the facade, against your better judgment. It was just too much fun not to. When you looked up at him through your lashes you could almost see the slight tick in his jaw, and your mind wandered to what other ways you’d like this type of view. “Yes, in fact there is. It's 1am” He leaned forward, dangerously close, to the point you could feel the warmth of his breath fan against your lips, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You caught the faint smell of cigarettes off his disheveled clothes, the scent of whiskey on his lips. You felt your breath hitch, but you hoped he didn't notice. How naive, that was. 
“And” Your eyes darted to his mouth momentarily as you spoke, voice wavering. He raised his brows, almost to tell you not to push him any further than you already did. It was too late, however. Whatever this was had spiraled far out of your control, and he could see the way you squirmed under that commanding gaze of his. Your brain was screaming at the attention, and you had to inwardly yell at yourself to stop being so needy. 
“And?” Your brows furrowed, your lips forming that signature pout when you heard him mock your tone, your voice.  “I've had a long day, baby, and I wanna go home” You huffed girlishly at his ridicule, the way he liked to humiliate you by throwing your attitude back in your face with his snide imitations, his raised brow and faux sympathy. He talked like one does to a misbehaving child. In that patronizing, explanatory melody. You watched him chuckle with slitted eyes, though you were slowly turning to a puddle underneath it all.
“Go home then Mr. Peña. I'm not stopping you am I?” You watched his eyes darken, and you weren't even sure that was possible, but you didn’t have much time to think because before you knew it he was pinching your cheeks between his fingers, his other hand still holding him up on the table. You could only whine under his rough touch as its effects licked between your thighs. He laughed when you mewed at the sting. 
“Oh but you are. You're just beggin’ me to stay, aren't ya’ baby?” Your soft and pathetically unconvincing ‘no’ was muffled as he squeezed your cheeks in his large hands, yanking you in his direction as you fruitlessly attempted to free yourself from his grip. Unable to help yourself you were almost crooning into his touch, your body basically begging him to rough you up. “Such a fuckin’ brat. Runnin’ your mouth all day, showin’ up in those clothes, fuckin up my schedule, acting like a whore” His soft whisper made you shiver, your skin now on fire. He spoke slowly, and every syllable made you want to drop at his feet with a vigor you could only be embarrassed of. He made you feel small, made you feel helpless under his touch. 
You wanted to push back, wanted to defy his accusations.“‘m not a whore” He smiled at your whining, and if you were delusional, and you were, even hopeful,  you’d say he did so endearingly. But Javier Peña didn’t care about endearments, and after the way you’d acted you’d be crazy to think he thought there was anything endearing about you. “Right baby. You're not. Gotta pay girls to act this way ‘round me. But look at you. Didn’t spare you a fuckin dime.” 
He had let go of your face, and had in a moment, quickly and uncaringly dumped you on the table in front of him. You let out a soft “ow” when you felt your knees bump the wood before your legs were dangling off its edge. You were far closer to him now, and if you had felt small before you thought you were only shrinking in comparison to his domineering frame– physical, mental, everything. Your brain was mush, your body was mush, and you could only lean into his touch– benevolent or not. 
In an uncharacteristically gentle gesture he patted your cheeks with the palm of his hand, lightly, as if to soothe the sore flesh, but it only made the way he pulled them mockingly far more jarring. “Know what that makes you babygirl?” He paused for a moment, knowing you couldn't answer, looking down at the way your eyes were now welling with tears at the pain, and reveling in the sight. 
“Makes you a little slut” 
You wanted to respond, wanted to defend yourself, but you could only settle for grabbing his dress shirt in the balls of your first. The fabric of your panties had pretty much soaked through, and you felt it cling to you uncomfortably as you shifted on the table to pull him closer. Practically begging for his touch. 
He let go of your face, but he didn’t plan on being any more gentle. He knew there was nothing you could do, nothing you could say at that moment, and he took full advantage of your silence– telling you everything he’d wanted to scream in your face for the past month. It was even better now however, because as a fun bonus, for his superhuman self control, you were even pleading for him to do so. He could see it in your eyes, feel it on your hot skin, the way you subtly rolled your hips against the table to ease the pang between your thighs. He reduced you to a dumb, empty headed bimbo, with his words alone. He couldn't help but rub it in a little. “Aw baby, no words for me? Where’s that snappy mouth now?” That faux sympathy was back again
His hands rubbed up and down your sides, moving to toy with the buttons of your top as he spoke. Fiddling with them he popped the first few open, enough to expose the swell of your breasts to the cool of the air conditioned office. With lust blown eyes he trailed his thumbs along your collar bones and then down to your admittedly skimpy lingerie– you gasped when he yanked it down, practically tearing if in a swift motion. He admired you for a moment, held you in place when you squirmed against him, wrapped your legs around his waist. 
You shifted on the desk, leaning your face against his torso, looking up at him,  pleading with your eyes. “Like you better like this, clothes half off like a desperate slut that couldn’t even wait to get undressed.” He paused, still admiring, tracing your cheekbones with his thumbs. “Oh, and fucking quiet”  he flipped you on your stomach, your legs dangling of the table when you writhed under his punishing grip– pushing your face down against the wood, bending you over it. “Whaddya think baby?” 
As if he had enough of just looking you felt him flip your skirt up with his vacant hand, and yelped when his palm came down harshly on the flesh of your ass, the sting only egging on your tears of desperation. “You know what I think baby? Think I needa fuck some manners into you.” He smoothed his hands up and down your warm thighs, fingers finding the soaked fabric of your panties as you moaned and sighed above him. He knew what he did to you and he loved it. “Can pretend there's anything in that head of yours besides the thought of goin’ dumb for me”
You lifted your head to look up and behind you, you’d give anything to witness the sight you’d touched yourself to for the past month, but Javier was quick to slam you head back back to where it came from, and send your eyes rolling back into your head as he shoved your soaked panties aside and roughly pushed two fingers into your sopping cunt. "Fuck, look at this tight little pussy, can barley take my fingers." He groaned in your ear, leaning up against you as his digits fucked you at an agonisingly slow pace, just barely soothing the burn of desire building in your core. “Bad girls don’t get a view.” Light headed, you could only squeal, could only hide your face from him as he leaned over to catch a glimpse of your knitted brows and that pout. 
"Y'know how messy y'are baby? Feel how this pussys cryin' for me, drippin' all over my hand?"
You kicked your legs in protest, salty tears streaming down your face and pooling at its side on the wood beneath you. He wasn’t happy when he found you pushing back against his fingers, grinding helplessly on them. For a moment you thought your wish was granted, but he was only yanking you off the desk so you could have your back flush against him, and he could get his hand wrapped tightly around your throat. Still languidly pumping his fingers in and out of your soaking pussy he turned your face to meet his, and sneered as his palm collided with the side of your cheek. 
Smack 
“Watch it” You wanted to be a brat, wanted to defy him, but it was all too much to handle at once. You felt fuzzy all over, and who were you kidding you were always going dumb for him. Besides, how could you even keep your mind steady, not when you felt his hard length against you. You gazed right up at him, pushed back against him, eyes rolling back into your head as you did. He only laughed. “Oh baby, think it's gonna be that easy? Think ‘m gonna let you cum jus’ like that? After you've run me up the wall?” He squeezed your breast in his palm, bending you back over the table, now more gently, extending the olive branch, giving you a chance to repent. “‘M not a needy slut like you baby, those little tricks ain't’ gonna work” Javier was an asshole, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t waiting to ruin you. But first he wanted to have a little fun. 
“Please, please, promise I'll be good.” He hummed, pretending like he was debating whether he was going to give into your pleas yet. He wasn't. He wanted to soak in the sight– you splayed out on his desk, begging him to fuck you sensless, his hands roaming your body torturously teasing you as your pussy clenched around nothing, dripping for him. 
“So now ya wanna be good? Well baby I'm not buyin it yet. Gonna take a lot more convincing than that.” His fingers found your clothed cunt once again, drawing soft circles on your clit. You wailed, knuckles going white when you gripped the table edge in front of you. "Feels good doesnt' it babygirl, I know, feels so good when you finally fucking listen." You pushed back against his fingers, practically humping his hand. The tears were back, and he loved them. “Aw, poor baby, too much?” He wasn’t asking, and you knew he didn’t care what you had to say anyway. He wanted one response, and you were far too wound up not to give it to him. 
“Please please please. Won't be a brat, wanna be your good girl.” He kept you waiting and distraught, fingers still rubbing you through your panties as he spoke, knowing very well you could barely concentrate when he touched you, the squelching of your wetness only drove you towards the edge. “Now babygirl, you're gonna listen, and you're gonna listen good, and do exactly what I say. Ya hear?” You nodded your head vigorously, but a smack to your ass reminded you to use your words. “Yes. promise” He laughed. “Such an easy little slut.” You heard the jingle of his belt behind you. 
You shivered when you felt his cock drag against your drenched cunt, tip bumping your clit with every pass as he wet himself with your slick. Your hips moved frantically, unable to get enough of the friction, but he held you back just enough, to where you would remain unsatisfied and frustrated.“Say" I'm sorry daddy. I'm sorry for being a tease.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and the command alone was enough to send you over the edge. 
“‘m sorry for being a tease daddy ” 
“Say “I'm Sorry for being an easy whore”” 
“M’ sorry for being an easy whore” You’d never been more shy in your life, forget around Javier, who could never guess you had it in you. “That’s my good little slut.” But the way he was speaking to you, teasing, mocking, telling you what to do, what to say– you were hot all over with humiliation. You hid your face, pretty much smashing your forehead against the table, making sure no matter how far he lent he couldn't see the way you were coming undone under him. 
He could probably sense it, though, especially by the way you reacted to his little praise. “That's it babygirl. Comin around now are we?” You didn't want him to have that on you, but you were lucky, in a way, because he didn’t care much to tease you anymore. He grabbed your hips harshly and with a rough thrust of his hips he was fucking you into the mahogany desk, your ribs bruising as he held you down against it. He wasn’t wasting any time, wasn’t stopping or going slow to let you adjust, he was reminding you of how tightly you’d wound him up.“So fuckin tight” his voice was a strained whisper behind you, and you made a noise you could barely recognise as your own at his words. “Hurts” you were whining again,this time at the sting,  and you knew he didn’t care but you couldn’t help yourself. “Yeah baby hurts when daddy stuffs you full of his cock? My poor thing.. But you like it don't you babygirl? Like it when I stretch you open” he wasn’t wrong. The feeling of him splitting you open had turned you into a puddle, a moaning mess. “”S too big” his hands smoothed up and down your back erratically.  “I know baby, I know, but you’re gonna take it aren’t you? Gonna take it how I give it to you dirty little girl?” You were, you took it how he gave it to you. “Gonna ruin this pretty lil pussy” He squeezed the flesh of your hips till you squeaked, the pain only adding to the pleasure as his hips smacked against yours. 
You felt your legs shake as his cock pounded your aching pussy. “Jus’ needed daddy to fuck all that brattiness outta ya huh?” You nodded your head and he cooed at the way you melted into his touch. “Oh baby, that’s it, just like that.” Gazing up with hooded eyes you caught his reflection in the glass of his office window, half illuminated by the dim lighting– his own face scrunched up with pleasure. The sight only had you fucking back against him. You felt like jello, your heart pitter pattering at his little praise. 
“My good little slut” 
Wrapping his arm around you he grabbed your face roughly again, dragging you up and against his chest again. 
“My slut, hear me?” 
Yours, yours, yours 
Your brain was a fog, and the only thing you could focus on was the way his cock was hitting that sweet spot inside you, making you clench around him as that burn built in your core– a string of incoherent “daddy’s” being the only thing you could manage to get out your mouth.  “My dumb fuckin baby, my whore, squeezin’ my cock”. You repeated like a broken record; “daddy’s, daddy’s daddy’s”, the feeling of your slick running down your thighs making you go dizzy. 
“Look at you, daddy’s little cumdump” your cheeks were burning, your eyes barley staying open. He pulled your face up from the desk. “Can barely look straight huh baby? Gettin all cock drunk on me.” You made out his dark eyes in the reflection. But you couldn’t bear to meet them. It didn’t matter. He was always looking at you.
“Only for you daddy”
Your release was building, like an inextinguishable fire, your pussy throbbing with need, just begging for it, and he knew it too, the way your walls quivered around him, the way you were moaning and panting, whispering soft calls of “daddy” when he held you against him. “Gonna cum babygirl? Gonna cum on my cock, bent over my desk? When ’m usin’ ya like a fuckin toy?” 
Your body went lax in his arms as you came, your lips parting in a wordless cry, eyes fluttering shut. “That's it… cum for me”. You cherished that almost gentle encouragement as you came undone, tummy swarming with butterflies as you shook in his arms. He was still fucking into your sensitive pussy, pushing you further into the desk as he neared his release. You heard a strained curse behind you, before he was fucking you full of his cum in deep, hard thrusts, your legs dangled off the table as you milked his cock. Shivering at the feeling you closed your eyes, his spend leaked out of your sore pussy when he pulled out, dripping down your inner thighs obscenely. You heard his belt jingle again as he caught his breath behind you, and you felt silly for the way you missed his warmth when it was replaced by the chilled office air. He quickly shifted your panties back in place, making sure you stayed stuffed full of his cum. You winced when he smacked your pussy lightly. Raising your head you caught his reflection again, but you hid your face back against the desk almost immediately when you saw the way he admired his work in the reflection, like he could see the way he’d fucked the brattiness out of you. 
With closed eyes you hummed as he turned you over and sat you on the desk. Now that you’d finally got Javier’s attention you were satisfied– all sleepy and fucked out. You wished he’d hold you, but you had to remind yourself fucking you hadn’t taken the asshole out of him. He was still Javier. Hardass DEA attaché Javier. You sat there for a while, and when you opened your eyes you saw him picking up his blazer and briefcase. 
“If you're not up in 10 seconds I'm leavin’ ya here.” He was back to usual in a moment, and in your fuzzy little head you heard a well meaningness in that tone. “In those messy panties.” You pouted at his words, once again, and he watched as you hopped off the table, rubbing your eyes as you gathered your things, albeit clumsily–your knees wobbly to the point where you could see Javier’s smirk behind you as you shoved your laptop into your bag. 
Turning off the table lamp he motioned with his head for you to get moving along, and you rolled your eyes at him as you walked out the door, stumbling slightly as you did. He gave you what you now recognised as that look, brows raised, and you didn’t have the energy at the moment to be combative. 
Maybe you didn’t want to be. 
“Come on now, runalong”
My old man is a thief, and
I'm gonna stay and pray with him 'til the end
But I trust in the decision of the Lord, to watch over us
Take him when He may, if He may
I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him
Who else is gonna put up with me this way?
I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!
They would rue the day I was alone, without you
You're lyin' with your gold chain on
Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"
"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"
And we're off to the races, places
Ready, set, the gate is down and now we're goin' in
To Las Vegas, chaos, Casino Oasis
Honey, it is time to spin
Boy, you're so crazy, baby
I love you forever, not maybe
You are my one true love
You are my one true love
You are my one true love
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Let me know what you think please!! I’d love to hear your nasty thots. I really hope you lovelies liked it. Thank you to everyone who reblogs my work. You keep me writing! Dividers and banners by @ saradika 💗💗🐝🐝
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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months ago
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Hurt/comfort AU based on a dream I had:
Tim has been Robin for a short time now.
Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account.
At this point in time, Bruce has warmed up a little bit to Tim, but they still have a more professional relationship. Tim thinks he has to earn his spot still.
Bruce finds Tim's fanfiction account that has fics from before and after Tim becomes Robin.
The before ones are self-insert Bats ones. Plots like a nine, ten, and eleven year old being saved, being the witness to a crime, or solving the case before them. They all end with the self-insert joining the team.
The ones after Tim becomes Robin are filled with Batman being fatherly and kind to the self-insert (who's an additional vigilante) or to Robin. He'll ruffle their hair, hug them, and tell them that he's proud of them. All of this is stuff Bruce currently doesn't do for Tim.
There's only a few fics where Batman is written in embarrassed situations (and Bruce crossed referenced the upload dates. Some of the dates were after Bruce did something mean or fucked up. The others, Bruce has no idea why Tim might have been upset).
When Bruce first reads the fics, he's mad. He, incorrectly, assumes that Tim has always been trying to become part of the team and took the first opportunity available. He's cold to Tim for a few weeks because of this (because Bruce is an emotionally constipated asshole who doesn't communicate).
Then Bruce starts to notice that the relationships Tim describes in his fics don't match up with how their relationship currently is. The teen doesn't eagerly ramble about his activities, ask Bruce to hang out with him, or otherwise engage unless it's mission related.
In fact, Tim's fanfics seem to portray what doesn't happen in their interactions. With Bruce being cold to Tim, the self-insert gets more hugs, words of affection, and praise.
Bruce learns more about Tim's hobbies, likes, dislikes, and passions from the fanfics than he ever knew. Bruce has the startling realization that they just don't talk.
There's a few fics Bruce has been avoiding (the ones with Robin II tags), but he read the ones with Nightwing. Tons of brotherly bonding and affection, basically.
Bruce finally makes up his mind when Tim releases a new fanfic a few days after an interaction with Poison Ivy. In the fic, Robin had gotten dosed with cuddle pollen and was cuddled all night with Batman and Nightwing.
Bruce is in a panic because he realizes that Tim could've gone back to his own house afflicted with cuddle pollen, and Bruce would have never known. He doesn't even know if Tim was making this fanfic as a desire due to him actually being dosed or if it just came to his mind. This freaks Bruce the fuck out.
Thus, Bruce then uses the fanfics as guides for how he should be acting with Tim and Dick. He puts the effort to be a better mentor and parent to them.
It freaks the other two out at first (and Tim is the most resistant to the change), but they slowly become closer.
Bruce never tells anyone that he found Tim's fanfic account.
Part 2: After Red Hood comes back and does the whole Titan's Tower Attack.
Bruce, after realizing that Tim's fanfiction account now had Red Hood fics (both ones making fun of the man and ones where the crime lord is being kind/brotherly), tells Jason mid-fight that he should check out this random fanfic account Bruce thinks he'd enjoy.
Jason, obviously fucking confused why Batman is recommending fanfiction in the middle of a fight, just stops.
Bruce nods at this, tells Jason he cares about him (Bruce has been working on it!), and then just leaves.
Cue Jason researching this account (that he doesn't initially know is Tim's) and going through a series of conflicted emotions.
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mindbreak · 5 months ago
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Destrudo - One Shot
2.9K Words
Tw: noncon, sadism, dacryphilia, stalking, obsession, mention of rotting limbs (shigi takes your leg on accident), blood (reader bites Shigi), light mindbreak if you squint.
Tags: Shigaraki x Reviving Quirk! Fem! Reader
This is a pure work of fiction. I do not condone any of the actions that take place within this fiction in real life. Minors DO NOT interact. No Age in Bio will be blocked.
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There’s something about you that makes Shigaraki’s skin itch. From the moment he saw you, there was the urge to destroy. Like a trigger, you set him off. Maybe it was your smile, or the way you stood so high and mighty as you called yourself the ‘hero of heros’, or maybe it was how quickly you had risen in the ranks earning yourself a place at AllMight’s side. Whatever it was, one thing was clear;
He wanted to break you.
He could recall the first time he feeling it, the insatiable urge to break you down. You had called yourself “Revival”, a rather corny name he had thought but one that seemed to describe your quirk well. Your quirk that seemed to directly oppose his own. He had done his research on you, your mother having been born with the ability to heal and your father born with a quirk that involved repair, you had somehow been gifted the powerful mixture of both. You had initially made a name for yourself in the recovery and rescue fields, with your most notable feat being the recovery of burned down Forrests. However, after an incident where you were able to completely reverse the effects of one of his victims, people regarded you as a top ranking hero who was ‘immune’ to the Leader of the League of Villains.
People loved you. You gave them hope. Even All Might regarded you as a great and powerful hero and, that made his skin crawl.
His hatred had quickly become a fixation, and he began to behave more recklessly to garner your attention. Attacking civilians with hopes you’d show up, destroying buildings, and Forrests to test the limitations of your quirk. He would never truly leave the scene of the crime, always just a ways away, watching you.
Sometimes he’d go so far as to follow you afterwards, his skin crawling as All Might would place his hands on your shoulder after a long day, laughing about how amazing you were.
Were you fucking him? Disgusting. You’d probably fuck anything if you were fucking that old bat.
He hated watching others touch you, sometimes he’d find himself biting his lip until it bled while you laughed at a table full of hero’s, all of you gathered and drinking together. So fucking chummy with one another.
What would your face look like if you knew he were just a mere few feet away? What would your reaction be if he were the one touching you?
When he voiced his thoughts to the other members, they didn’t seem to understand him in the slightest.
“Aww, Shigi you’re in love!” Toga exclaimed excitedly. Twice seemed to agree, before calling him some insult in a separate voice. “You should just fuck her already and get it over with.” Dabi notes, nonchalantly.
“Don’t be such a brute, he should try and buy her flowers. I’m sure she’ll love it.” Toga adds, blushing crimson as she begins to go on and on about how good being in love feels.
“I don’t love her…” Shigaraki gripes, trying to silence the now rowdy bar as they all descend into their usual chaos. Dabi, the only sane one at the moment, shoves his hands in his pockets before leaning against the counter next to Shigi. “Listen, I don’t care about whatever feelings you have towards that hero but, it’s getting creepy how often you talk about her. Whatever you want to do, just get it over with so we can get back to the mission. I’m not here for any love fest.” He advises.
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That’s how he ended up here, in your home, sitting on your couch and waiting for you to come home, like some crazy obsessed boyfriend.
At first he was uncertain, he had followed you home many times but, he had never actually broken in.
However, it quickly dissipated and was replaced with hatred as he observed the various pictures and certificates along the walls. You had pictures with your family, and awards from various parts of your life. It reminded him of just how much he couldn’t stand you. You, the ever-so-privileged, to be fortunate enough to live this happy little life of yours.
He wanted to snatch it all away from you.
The faint click of the door alerts him of your arrival, and his head snaps up to find you staring back at him in horror.
The next set of events are a bit of a blur, as he immediately stands to his feet to chase you down, somehow knocking you too your feet and slamming the door shut, and locking it behind him. You had tried to fight him, but the moment his hands grabbed your legs, it was over. You could only scream in agony as your leg began to rot and fall away.
Shigi was stunned for a moment, his eyes wide as he watched the tears stream down your face as you mourned your now lost limb. He had known he was fucked in the head, but right now as he watched you try and crawl away, his cock twitching in excitement, he knew something had been very wrong with him.
"So you aren't completely immune to me..." He says, more to himself than to you with an amused grin on his face.
He doesn't chase you, you're too hysteric to think logically, immediately trying to bring back your own leg when you realize that the rotting is spreading further and further, reaching your knee.
While you make quick work of bringing back your leg, he digs in his pockets for his gloves, sliding them on his hands while humming casually.
"W- why are you doing this?" You ask, confused and distraught.
He doesn't answer, only reaching for a syringe that he bought with him with a newfound sense of pride.
"Try not to fight to much..." is all he says, before sticking the needle into your neck, and everything fades to black.
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When you come to, it’s pitch black inside your home. Not even the moons fluorescent light shines through the void that engulfs your living space. You can tell you’re in your room though, as the familiar firmness of your mattress keeps your warm from the otherwise chilling air.
If not for the throbbing feeling in your leg, you’d have assumed the prior events had only been a nightmare, but, unfortunately for you this all was very very real and the man who lay watching you with his arm across your abdomen and his crimson eyes boring into the side of your face was no figment of your imagination.
“You’re awake? Finally, I was starting to thing I had injected you with too much…”
Is all he says as you try to pry him off of you, only for you to realize that your arms and legs are tied to the posts.
“Please…whatever it is I did to end up on your bad side…I apologize.” You say, eyes watering in a desperate attempt to pull sympathy from him. You may have been a hero but you healed, helped rebuild buildings, and worked on rescuing civilians. Your quirk wasn’t built for combat, Allmight had sought you out for your abilities sure, but as a sidekick, you were still just learning the ropes in terms of fighting bad guys! You were in no way capable of handling the league of villains leader, at least you thought so.
Your tears only served to excite him
“Yes, this is exactly what I wanted to see..” he uttered in complete fascination, “Cry harder for me, sweet girl.”
Your body physically recoils when you feel something firm pressing into your side.
Was he getting off on this?
“You..You’re sick!” You spit at him, a wave of disgust and anger washing over you as you seethe at him through hot tears. “Let me g- mmh!”
You’re silenced by his mouth pressing against yours, a gloved hand gripping your throat tight enough to block your air ways forcing you to instinctively try and gasp for air.
He makes an attempt to slip his slimy wet tongue into your mouth and—
CHOMP.
“Fuck!” He hisses, pulling back from you. “I’m bleeding..” he announces to you, annoyed and angry as if he weren’t literally trying to force himself on you.
You want to make a smart remark but before you could say anything his hands were in your pants, prying you open with his fingers.
“I was trying to be nice to you, ya know. Wanted to ease you into it.” He gripes while you bite at your lip, trying to close your legs but to no avail.
“But if you keep acting like a little bitch, I’ll just rip you open. I can make this feel good for you or painful..I’ll cum either way” He threatens.
You can’t hide the way your face twists in disgust, nausea overtaking you as he starts to massage your clit sloppily and unskilled. Was this some kind of sick joke? There was no way he’d make you feel good no matter how gentle or shitty he was to you. Still…you weren’t foolish enough to pick a fight with someone while you had no way to defend yourself. You could only hope that one of your hero friends would stop by to save you.
Shigaraki takes your silence as an agreement of compliance (it is) and makes a second attempt at kissing you, this time the taste of metal invading your senses as his blood gets in your mouth. He doesn’t remove his fingers from your heat, only adjusting them so they’re not so uncomfortable.
His movements are slow and methodical, shifting every so often while he watches for a reaction from you. His fingers twist and curl until he finds a particular spot that makes you moan in his mouth.
“Cute..” his whispers against your lips, his face just a few centimeters from yours as he rubs against that same spot a few more times. “Can you hear that?” He asks, drawing your attention to the wet sounds coming from below your waist, “You’re so wet from just a few fingers.”
You turn away from him, biting your lip to try prevent yourself from making anymore involuntary sounds. “I-it’s a Biological response. That…that doesn’t mean I’m enjoying this.” You try to explain. But the smirk radiating off his face, tells you that he doesn’t believe you…or care.
He starts to press into that spot harder, kissing at your neck and leaving little bites on your shoulder. “I guess I’m not the only sick one. You claim to hate this, but you’re dripping down my fingers.” He taunts, “How would your precious Allmight feel if he knew you were getting off on his enemies fingers? Do you think he’d get rid of you?”
You don’t answer. Instead you try and place your focus anywhere else, on anything else. But his constant chatter won’t allow your mind to wander for long.
“Fuck, I want to feel you…”
His hand leaves your sex, and for a moment there’s shuffling beside you. The sound of zippers and clothes dropping being the only thing to fill the otherwise silent room. You had hoping if you just let him do what he wanted, he would get it over with quickly.
But Shigaraki had no intention of letting you stay silent the entire time. He slipped his gloves off, making sure he was in full view and your heart rate picks up instantly as the thought of him touching you fills you with newfound paranoia.
He’s careful this time though, letting his fingers graze over your clothes and watching as they disintegrate beneath his touch, leaving only a cool sensation ghosting in their wake.
You whimper when he’s got you down to your underwear, shuddering in the silence while he plays with the hem of your panties. You flinch at the contact, and he almost laughs.
“Careful, if you move too much, you might lose your leg again..” he warns playfully, though you don’t find anything about what he says to be funny at all.
He observes your lower half for a moment longer before speaking again. “Your leg did heal nicely though. I wonder…if I were to keep breaking away at you, could you keep putting yourself back together?”
His curiosity was scaring you. You didn’t know yourself and you didn’t want him trying to find out the answer.
“T- Tomura…”
His eyes seem to hone in on you, he never expected his name to leave your lips, but he liked the sound. Something he made a mental note of for later.
Ever the oblivious to your future misfortune, you only cared about placing his mind else where. “A- Are you going to put that inside me?” You asked, raising your head, only to take in his naked form. He was a lot more muscular than you had expected, still fairly thin but in a lean kind of way, as if he had been training.
There were scars along his pale skin, ones that trailed down his abdomen leading to his—
“Do you mean my dick?” He says, a little too confidently as he places himself between your legs.
You only nod in reply, disgusted with yourself.
If the circumstances had been different, you would have rolled your eyes...but this was a moment of desperation. If you didn't keep him entertained, he would clearly find ways to entertain himself. Horrifying ways that would only end in suffering for you.
"I want to hear you say it...ask me to put it in." he says, his mouth getting closer to your loins, kissing at your inner thigh.
A larger part of you wanted to pull away, but you knew better. He had slipped his gloves back on, somewhere in the midst of your little interaction, and had his lips kissing dangerously close to your pussy. It was better this than him testing the limits of your quirk.
"Go on...Beg me for my dick..."
He swipes his tongue up your bare slit, it's warm but leaves a cold and wet feeling after. He doesn't stop there, his cracked lips kissing your bundle of nerves, before he circles it with his tongue.
Its foreign feeling at first, and strange, but you can't stop the way your breath picks up as he licks at your most sensitive parts. The fact that you're even giving him a reaction fills you with shame. You just want this to be over.
"Pl-please put your dick in me.." you say, your own voice just barely above a whisper in an attempt to mask the fact that your voice sounds a little less like your own right now.
"Hmm? What was that? I didn't hear you..."
You were embarrassed and overstimulated, and there was a strange feeling starting to build up in your tummy from his tongue on you. As sloppy as it was, he was learning your body quickly, and that was terrifying.
"Please...Tomura...Put your dick in me.." You say, louder this time.
"You want it?"
"Y-es.."
He smiles a genuine smile, and had you have known what he was thinking, you may have fought him a little harder.
He brings his face back to yours, his hands on either side of your head and his length nestled between your folds and twitching in excitement. "Kiss me..." He commands, but he sounds breathless, needy almost.
You do as you are told, despite your skin crawling, despite the bile that's building in your throat, despite the alarm bells going off inside your head.
The kiss felt different than the first.... the first was experimental, curious. This one was greedy, like he intended to take something with it.
"Mm..MM" Your wrists twist at the restraints as the tip of his cock pushes past your folds, pressing into your innards and spreading your walls apart.
"Relax a little for me baby..." he growls, hips stuttering as he feels how tight you are. He groans when his balls finally slap against your cunt, bottoming out inside you.
For a moment you're in disbelief, you try to scan through memories, trying to find something that would make sense of the situation you're in right now. Searching for anything that would explain why he was doing this to you.
Meanwhile, Tomura was pulling back his hips to fuck into you again. You moan as he sets a slow pace as if he's savoring the feeling of you.
You're made to feel every inch of him as he pressed into you deep. "Fffuck.." you curse under your breath, as the girth of him grinds into your gspot.
You can feel the build in your stomach again, and your walls start to spasm around his dick.
"That's right, cum for me pretty girl..." he says, picking up his pace, snapping his hips forward. You can't think anymore, not that you want to anyway. He thrusts once, then again, and suddenly your coming undone, your limbs shaking as an orgasm wracks throughout your entire body.
He talks you through your orgasm, whispering about how good of a whore you are, about how your body was made for him, how you were made for him, about how he's known all along that you were his.
It scares you when he says those things but, it scares you even more that you're starting to believe him.
______________________________________________________
Authors note: Hope people like the one-shot. Again english isn't my first language so I apologize for any grammar or spelling errors. This isn't meant to be anything serious or align with any part of the recent storyline in anyway. Just something I wanted to write. If there needs to be more tags or warnings, I'll be sure to add them. Hope it is well received. Again, I don't condone any of the acts depicted here in real life. Minors DO NOT interact or Follow. No Age in Bio will be Blocked (I'll get to checking my following soon). Thank you to anyone who does like the stuff I write.
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cosmicdahlias · 2 months ago
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For Science
a ford x reader fic
MINORS DNI
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After researching giant vampire bats, an old interest of Ford’s has resurfaced. He has a theory about the difference in the taste of human and animal blood. He suggests making you his test subject.
warnings: knives, bloodplay, masturbation, p in v, blood as lube, biting
okayyyy y’all! i have finally returned with another fic about your favorite autistic scientist!!! i got journal 3 (and book of bill) as a belated birthday present to myself and i posted about the giant vampire bats entry on here because the last line was… interesting. It heavily implies that ford has a thing for the taste of human blood. @chillinglyadventurous said it would make for a good fic so i took the idea and ran with it!
You were sitting at your desk writing in your notes. Your boyfriend and research partner sat at his own desk behind you.
You had been working with him since ‘75. You shared his fascination for the weird and paranormal, quickly sparking up a friendship during your college years, but secretly you always longed for more. His intellect and passion for research were incredibly alluring to you.
You weren’t subtle in showing how much you liked him, but he always seemed to be buried in his studies and thus never caught on. As observant as he was, his knowledge on attraction was next to nothing.
After you both graduated you kept in touch, sending letters back and forth often. When he called you up one day it was a welcome surprise. He had finally received a grant to pursue his study of anomalies. You were about to congratulate him when he said he needed an assistant to help him uncover the weirdness of Gravity Falls, a small logging town in Roadkill County, Oregon and hotbed for all things anomaly. You felt your heart do a somersault and immediately took him up on his offer. You could finally have him all to yourself.
You immediately returned to your usual tactics of exceedingly obvious flirting. One day you came in awfully close and took his hand in yours, studying it.
“You know Ford, I’ve always wondered if those six fingers can do things better than my regular five could.”
“Why yes, they’re actually quite good for handling machinery! The extra finger provides more grip.”
After months of effort you realized that your approach was getting you nowhere. It took sharing a bottle of bourbon after a long night of research to give you the liquid courage to confess. You kissed him passionately and he turned pinker than a kitten’s nose, he didn’t hesitate in kissing you back. He led you back to his bedroom and you tried to initiate sex, but he insisted you were too drunk to consent. You settled for falling asleep in his arms and hooked up the next morning. You had a long conversation afterwards about what you both wanted from each other and came out of it as a couple.
You busied yourself in your research when Ford suddenly broke the silence. Coming behind you, turning your chair to face him and putting a hand on your shoulder.
“Y/n, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Yeah?” You asked.
“So, you know those giant vampire bats we studied the other day?”
“I remember, yes.”
“Then you’ll recall how I theorized that they much prefer the taste of human blood over that of animals. I want to… put that theory to the test.”
“Ford, where are you going with this?”
“I want to know if there’s a difference in the taste of animal and human blood. I’ve already sampled animal blood, but I have yet to taste the blood of a human.”
“Okay, so you want to taste blood. Why are you telling me this?”
“There’s more to it. I’ve always had an… interest in blood- specifically the blood of a lover. I’ve never had the opportunity to try it and now I that have you-“
He took a deep breath, tilting your chin up so you were looking him in the eye.
“I want to taste you.”
You blushed deep scarlet and bit your lip. The idea of sexually gratifying him in the name of science was incredibly tantalizing, but your low pain tolerance said otherwise.
“I don’t know. I want to, but I’m not sure I can handle the pai-“
He cut you off with a deep kiss.
“I promise if it hurts too much, I’ll stop immediately. Okay, stardust?”
For a man who claimed he had no experience with romance he was incredibly good at knowing how to win you over with a good kiss and a pet name.
You sighed. “Okay, Ford. I trust you.”
“Good girl.” He said, taking your cheek in his hand.
He turned around and headed for his desk, retrieving a small knife from one of the drawers. He walked back over to you, pulled his chair over and sat directly in front of you, taking your hand and turning it over to show the underside of your arm. He angled the knife at a 45 degree angle just below the pit of your elbow.
“Remember, if it hurts just tell me.”
You nodded and he sank the knife into your soft flesh, beginning to drag it down the length of your forearm. You cried out.
His brow furrowed in concern. “Are you alright? Do I need to stop?”
“N- no, it’s okay. Keep going.”
He continued moving the knife, large pearls of blood formed at the freshly cut wound and dripped onto the floor. Perhaps it had something to do with the love of your life being the one to inflict pain on you or maybe this was just something you were always subconsciously into, but it felt strangely good. Either way you couldn’t help letting a soft moan escape your lips. He stared at you in surprise.
“Is- is this turning you on, love?”
You laughed softly. “Sometimes I amaze even myself.”
You noticed immediately how hard he had gotten, his cock strained in his pants. He reached his hands down and started fumbling with his belt and pulling down his zipper.
“I’m sorry, I have to touch myself. Fuck, this is so arousing.”
He took out his cock and began to stroke himself madly as he pulled your arm closer, leaning his head down and latching his mouth to the cut, lapping at the steady trickle of blood. He moaned against your skin and throbbed wildly in his hand.
“Dear god, stardust, you taste incredible.”
Between his words and watching him become aroused at just the taste of your blood, you felt yourself become drippingly wet.
He stood and slid his hands underneath your thighs, picking you up and setting you on your desk, facing him. He kissed you, the metallic taste of blood hitting your tongue, you found it strangely pleasant. He hiked up your skirt and pulled your panties down and off your legs. He gathered your blood on his fingers and stroked himself before angling his throbbing, stiff cock at your entrance. He slowly slipped inside you and thrusted at a slow pace.
“Jesus christ, this is a thousand times better than regular lube.”
It didn’t matter how many times you’d had sex before, every time felt just as amazing as the first. He slipped a hand between your thighs, stroking your clit.
“Y- you feel so good.” You moaned.
“Stars, I love seeing what I do to you.”
He picked up the knife and pressed it lightly against your other arm.
“May I?”
You nodded fervently and he slowly sliced a second long slit into you. You threw your head back, moaning both in pleasure and pain.
“Oh god, Ford.”
“That’s my girl. Feels so good doesn’t it?”
He dipped his head down and drew his tongue across your arm.
You whimpered at the sensation. “Mmh, I didn’t know something like this could feel so good.”
“And I didn’t know your blood would taste this good.”
He gripped your hip in one hand and keeping the other on your clit, increasing the speed of his thrusts and fingers. He typically opted for soft and slow lovemaking, but seeing you like this left him unable to control himself.
“I need your hands on me.” He panted.
“But what about the-“
“I don’t care.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck, blood staining his collar.
“I’m never washing this shirt again, your blood is too precious to waste.”
You felt yourself growing close, he was too. He pumped himself furiously into you as he rapidly circled your clit. You rolled your hips against his fingers, the motion stroking his cock.
“That’s it stardust, almost there.”
You moaned loudly and came undone on him, your pussy spasming around his cock. The sensation made him unable to resist biting your shoulder and sinking his teeth into you. The taste of your blood immediately caused him bury himself into you down to the hilt, shooting rope after rope of hot cum deep inside you.
He began to slow his pace, breathing raggedly. He pressed his forehead to yours.
“God, stardust, I’ll never tire of you.”
He withdrew his cock from inside you and zipped himself up. He pulled out the first aid kit he kept in one of his desk drawers in case experiments went awry. He doused a cotton pad in disinfectant and dabbed it on your wounds. You flinched at the stinging sensation of the solution.
“I know, I’m sorry, but I can’t let them get infected.”
He pulled a roll of gauze from the kit and wrapped your arms, securing them with medical tape. He turned his attention to the bite, cutting a large square of gauze and taping it down. He kissed your cheek.
“There you go, stardust.”
He picked you up again and sat down in his chair, sitting you on his lap. He turned to his desk and opened his journal, he had just started his third one. He flipped to his entry about giant vampire bats and began writing.
“Human blood tastes better than anything.”
He paused, crossing out “better than anything” and replacing it with “I can only ASSUME human blood tastes better.”
“Ford, what was the point of all of that if you’re not going to be honest?” You giggled.
He kissed the top of your head. “If I’m going to publish my findings, there are some things that I think would be best kept between just the two of us.”
You turned to him, putting a hand to his cheek and kissing him.
“If you say so, sixer.”
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thedisablednaturalist · 1 year ago
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If you are someone who hates bugs and kills them on sight (except for those that can actually cause considerable harm) please..just..take a second...think before you act. Does that bug need to die? Are you killing it just to feel better?
Yes, phobias are real. I have arachnophobia. And it's taken a long time for me to get to the point I'm at now where i can hold jumping spiders and be sort of near wolf spiders. I still struggle but to be in a field where you're outside a lot, you have to get comfortable with spiders sometimes crawling on you.
The first step is respect. You don't have to like or enjoy bugs. But you need to respect what their role is in the environment. To make it easier, think of animals you DO like and learn about their relationship with bugs. You really like birds? Well guess what a ton of birds eat. Even birds that don't directly eat bugs may eat things that do (ya know the whole food web thing). Bugs also may positively impact their environment through nutrient cycling, eating other, more destructive bugs, eating harmful molds, bacteria, or fungi, pollination, etc.
I used to be skeeved out by a lot of bugs, particularly bug larvae. Guess what I'm studying right now? Invertebrates are so interesting once you get past the initial discomfort.
Many of us believe invertebrates = gross/scary. This needs to stop. Invertebrates are going extinct so fast and because everyone hates them we don't have enough research to even know how many we are losing. Pesticides/herbicides have completely wiped out a significant portion of the invertebrate population, and that's along with other things like pollution, ocean acidification, invasive species, etc.
We are losing spiders. We are losing centipedes. We are losing tiny flies. We are losing worms and beetles and bees and wasps. We are losing butterflies and fireflies. Some invertebrate species only exist in one small pond or cave. Some have never actually been seen and some have only been seen once. And its affecting all of us. Fish are disappearing from streams because there's nothing to eat. Amphibians are disappearing because there's nothing to eat (and bc of chytrid fungus). Bats are disappearing because there's nothing to eat (and bc of white nose syndrome). Pangolins, axolotls, red pandas, armadillos, woodpeckers, monkeys, salamanders, these all have diets that are either partially or only fulfilled by bugs.
I go outside in the summer, and don't even have to use bug spray anymore. I remember getting chased by swarms of nats and mosquitos. Nights glittering with hundreds of fireflies. Now I only worry about mosquitos in the spring by the water. Even then I have maybe 5 bites at most, when before I used to be covered in bites from being outside. Before I was born, windshields used to be COVERED in bugs when you went down the highway.
Please, you don't have to like them, but please make an effort to change your initial reaction. They are earthlings just like us. They don't deserve to die because they aren't cute. We need more funding and research. They are getting wiped out and people think that's a fucking good thing. Stop using bug zappers. Try using bug repellent that doesn't have DEET in it (only use it if absolutely necessary), take the bug out in a cup and piece of paper, use methods other than pesticides to get pests out of your garden. Yes sometimes you need to kill a tick or get the termites or ants out of your house. Sometimes a venomous spider gets in your house and it's not safe to handle them. Sometimes they are killing your plants and you need to get rid of them. But a harmless millipede who's one defense is to literally curl into a little spiral and is completely harmless? Does it really have to die?
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