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nieceeee · 19 days ago

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"Look In Your Eyes, Yeah it's dangerous."

Pairing: ony x reader

PS: Ony is trying to figure out exactly who he is dating because the girl he is looking at right now?... he has no clue who you are.

A/N: I was writing and this took on a mind of its own. But...enjoy? lmao. SMUT MINORS DNI, ony x reader

You were a liar.

He didn't want to admit it but it was true. Your entire personality, everything he thought he knew was a lie. Your innocent eyes holding nothing but deceit. He would’ve realized it had he actually paid attention. Instead he got caught up in the allure of you. Your beauty. Your kind nature. How he wish he would’ve seen the signs before now. It was fine when he first met you. The cute little brown skin he met at Barnes and Noble. He was in there shopping for books with his niece and nephew. His sister had begged him to take them to the store so that she could have a few moments of peace and Ony, being the man that he is didn't hesitate to do so. He loved his niece and nephew more than anything. So here he was running behind the younger one as the older one made her way to the young adult aisle. “Aye boy. Chill out. We ina bookstore not a playground.” Ony calls out behind his nephew. His tiny giggle rang out as he turned the corner. Ony shakes his head and speeds up slightly to catch him by the snap on his backpack. “I see now why yo mama keep you on a leash.” he mumbles as he snaps the latch back onto the bag. His nephew attempts to run again but the line tightens causing him to halt. “But uncle Ony.” the little boy whines, lip poked out. “Nope. You had your warning and you didn't listen. 5 minutes on until you can chill. Now come on so I can find your sister.” They walk off down row after row until he sees his niece and right next to her? You. For the first time in his life Ony was in awe. Your beauty captivated him in that very moment. He slows his step as he walks closer. You’re standing next to his niece discussing the book, a pile in each of your arms. “If you loved Legendborn, you will for sure love this series.” you speak softly. Your voice sweet as milk and honey. “Also, I would recommend - Oh.” you are startled when he approaches. He was..

He was fine as fuck.

Your eyes drink him in. His deep mahogany skin seemingly glistening under the bright fluorescent lights of the store. His lips parted as he stares at you and the first thing on your mind is I know he tastes good. “Uh. Hi. I'm sorry. I’m Y/N. Can I help you find anything?” you ask him. He is still wrapped up in your eyes but manages to respond to your question. “Nah. I'm actually here for my niece.” he says. “Come on Uncle Ony, ten more minutes please?” his niece turns to him, her pleading eyes competing against those of her baby brother. Only knows this is a battle he was going to lose. “Jewel.” he groans but her lip pokes out even more. Dammit. “Fine. Jewjewbee. But only 5 minutes.” he relents. Her bright brace faced smile spread across her face, cheeks squishing the corners of her eyes together. “Thank you Uncle Ony! I’ll even take Malachi.” she says hugging her uncle tightly with ehr free arm before grabbing her brother and rushing off. Only lets out a breath and shakes his head. “You seem like you’re really good with them.” your soft voice speaks as you replace the books on the shelves. “Something like that. Uh, I’m Onyankopon. Ony. It's nice to meet you.” he extends his hand. You take it and it's not hard for him to see just how small it was compared to him. “You come here often? Or is this just a one time thing.’ you ask as he finally releases you. “It can be more as long as you’re here.” he lets out. You press your lips together, heat rising in your body. “Well.” you say stepping up to him. “I guess I’ll see you soon.” you smile before walking past him. It was then that Ony, much to his niece’s delight, became a B&N member and frequent customer.

If only he had known what he was getting himself into then. This could’ve been avoided. All of this. Those sweet innocent eyes that offered him so much. Glistening when you saw him in the store. Shining when he would pick you up on dates. Glossed over as he asked you to be his. All that time that had passed and those eyes told him everything. But these eyes, the ones that are staring at him now. He had never seen these eyes before. Or maybe he had and just wasn’t paying attention. Because those same eyes. Those same fucking eyes were staring in his soul right now. There was no innocence. There was nothing soft about the way your eyes lit flames in his body as he stared up at you. Ony was so fucking confused. How the hell did he get here? The sweet fingers that he held that day now wrapped softly around his neck, pressing into his pulse.

Those fucking eyes.

Staring into his soul as your hips grind against him, tip kissing your cervix while you move in counterclockwise circles. “Fuck mama, please.” his moans echo in your ears, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. “Does it feel good pa? Tell me it feels good.” You coo as your pussy clenches around him, fingers squeezing a bit tighter. Ony’s eyes roll to the back of his head. How had he missed the signs? Where was the sweet, shy girl he met at the bookstore. The one his niece raves about. The one his nephew adores. Where was the girl who planted soft kisses to his cheek as he dropped her off from dates. Who the fuck was this woman who had his toes curling and fists clenching at his sides. The way you took his dick so effortlessly, dragging multiple orgasms from his body. Your pussy dripping with both your arousals. “Come on pa, talk to me.” you whine, pressing your feet flat into the bed as you bounce up and down on his length. “Yes mamas. You feel so fucking good.” he praises. “Fuck, yes tell me more.” you preen. “Shit baby. You ride that dick so fucking good baby. I'm so proud of you.” his responses are breathless, broken in between groans but he gives you what you’re asking for. “Thank you pa. Fuck, I'm cumming again.” you scream out riding out yet another orgasm. His breath was heavy as you finally slow down, mind still processing everything that happened. Finally, he manages to meet your eyes again. You were back to normal. That innocent look in stark contrast to what you had just done to him. Naked body coated in afterglow, you lean forward and plants a kiss on his lips.

“You still meeting my family today, right?”

#ony #onyankopon x black y/n #ony x black reader #aot x reader #aot x y/n #fem!reader #onyankopon x reader #aot onyankopon #onyankopon smut #onyankapon #ony x reader #ony x you #ony smut #ony x y/n

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the-modern-typewriter · 1 month ago

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hello, i'm in love with your writing! if you could do one of your classic lovers to enemies up-close angsty scenes, where the hero is a stoic, closed-off person who doesn't quite have the words to express their emotions, while the villain wants the hero to just like, talk to them, dammit, even if it's to say something that would break their heart all over again.

love your work and have a great rest of the day!

"Really?" the villain asked. "You're just going to sit there in silence staring at me?"

The battle had not gone how the villain had hoped; primarily due to the interference of their former lover. Instead of the grand fruition of all of their plans, the villain was stuck with cuffs that dug into their wrists, a looming future of incarceration and, of course, their damned ex.

"What do you want me to say?" There was no emotion in the hero's voice. There never bloody was. "I told you so?"

The villain snarled, under their breath. They gave the chains a vicious yank. It did no good. It just made their skin chafe.

"You're going to hurt yourself," the hero said.

"Oh, like you care."

The hero's jaw worked. That was, at least, something. The villain glared at them. The hero looked down.

"Fine, yeah," the villain said, as the silence threatened to stretch unbearably again. "I told you so! Sure. Whatever. If that's the last thing you ever want to say to me, who am I to stop you?"

"It's not the last thing I'm ever going to say to you."

"It's not the last thing I'm ever going to say to you," the villain mimicked, distorted and pretty and cruel. "Jesus."

The hero glanced up at them again. "Again," they said. "What do you want me to say?"

The villain stared at them, incredulously.

They felt like there were a thousand things that the two of them could possibly start a conversation with. Some choice examples might include:

I'm sorry for locking you up forever.

I'm sorry it turned out this way. I wish things could have been different between us. I love you. I still love you.

I'm sorry I ever bloody loved you, you stupid bloody indifferent git. How can you just sit there? How can you have nothing to say to me?!

Just as an off the top of the head example!

"It's not about what I want you to say," the villain said finally. "Just say something. Anything. Oh my god."

The hero opened their mouth, then closed it. They shifted on their chair, opposite, and checked their watch instead.

The temporary security holding cell was unbearably quiet once more. Would their permanent prison be unbearably quiet too? Or would it be a case of so crowded that they never got a moment of peace?

"I can't believe you thought you could beat me," the villain said, in their best hero voice. "Muhaha. Don't you know I have the righteous power of being sanctimonious and insufferable on my side? Fool."

The hero's eye twitched. "Is that the last thing you ever want to say to me, then?"

"What do you want me to say?" The villain jutted their chin. "Please, please, pretty please forgive me? I am the worst. I never deserved you. It's totally okay that you're leaving me to rot forever."

"I'm not leaving you to rot."

"Oh, you could have fooled me. I mean, I suppose it wouldn't-"

The hero's hand clamped down on their mouth.

The villain had barely even seen them move. A split second blur, standing and crossing the minimal space between them. The villain's breath caught as they looked up at that familiar face, overwhelmed with familiar presence.

The hero used to press them up against walls and kiss them, like they could translate all of the languages of the world with kisses alone.

The hero's eyes...

They were wet with tears, though whether that was out of sorrow or fury, the villain wasn't sure.

"I'm not leaving you to rot," the hero said, slow, through gritted teeth. "And I do care. How can you think I don't care? Or are you just saying it to hurt me because you lost? I don't get it. I don't get you. I thought I did, once, but I just - I don't get you anymore. I don't get how you could do any of this. I don't get how you can be so - so cruel! You talk all the time and it's just nonsense. It's nothing. So just - just shut up. For once in your life, shut up."

The villain stared up at them, wide-eyed.

They wanted to open their mouth and tell the hero that was maybe the most words they'd heard them say in years, since the two of them started fighting. The hero's hand didn't allow that. The hero's hand trembled against them, like sign language, but the villain didn't know how to read that.

They never knew how to read the hero anymore.

"Even if I'd tried to talk to you," the hero said, quietly, "you wouldn't have listened. You haven't listened to anyone since we were five, once you made up your mind about something. So don't - this isn't my fault, okay? I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this."

So let me go.

There were a thousand arguments they could try. Atonement and you don't really want this and you'll never see me again and do you really think they can hold me anyway? Ha!

The hero closed their eyes. They dashed at the tears that threatened to roll down their cheeks with their free hand.

"And now," the hero said, "now there's nothing I could say to you that would make this better. That would make what you did better. So don't - don't you dare - just stop talking." Then again, softer, "just stop talking. Please."

The villain's chest chest ached. They'd hoped it had stopped doing that. It was supposed to have stopped doing that, especially for them.

Yet, they felt raw, in a way that had nothing to do with battle.

When the hero's hand fell away from their mouth, they said nothing. They couldn't quite manage to.

The hero looked at them, in silence, an unreadable storm on their face. The villain wanted to invent a weather vane, a thermometer, a scale just for the measuring and decrypting of them. They wanted to bring ancient history to the scholars and have them piece together all the bits that had got lost and forgotten in translation somewhere.

They wanted...

The hero leaned down to kiss them, soft and terribly sweet. A broken sound caught in the villain's throat.

Then the hero was on their knees, face pressed against the villain's knees, sobbing.

With the villain's hands cuffed behind their back, they couldn't even reach out and hold them.

They could do nothing.

They could say, it felt, nothing.

They were back to staring at each other in silence when the holding cell doors finally opened and the villain was taken away.

#heroes and villains #villains and heroes #angst #writing #angsty #villains #heroes #hero x villain #villain x hero #lovers to enemies

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lostinlovingrevery · 2 months ago

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Logan When You're Pregnant

I got baby fever rn, some here's some headcanons for when you get pergananant (am I pergot?) with Lo's baby

(breeding kink go brrrrr)(nsfw section below the fluff stuff)

First off, I think we can all agree that no matter what variant Logan it is, whether it's planned or an accident, he's gonna freak out initially when you both find out your pregnant

He'll keep the initial freakout under wraps though.

70s!Dofp Logan, Old man Logan, and Trilogy Logan would probably be the most freaked out

The others, like Origins, Future DOFP, who are a bit more settled in would probably be more ready

Worst Logan? You're gonna need to give him a hug

Moving on

They all step up though, don't worry

Even 70s DOFP, he may be a menace but he sure as hell ain't gonna leave you or his baby alone

ANYWAY

Logan is so supportive of you. He'll constantly be checking on you. He'll be nesting almost immediately so get ready

He will definitely become more protective too. Like a lot. He'll try his best to not be overbearing but he's went lot of his life losing those he loves. He absolutely cannot afford to lose you and ya'lls baby

Lets say for this that you two are in an established relationship, planned or not, I'll leave that to ya'lls lovely imaginations

hes there for every doctors trip, exam, sonogram, etc etc. he doesn't miss a thing and holds your hand the entire time

The first trimester is rough. Mood swings, morning sickness, aches and pain. Logan handles your mood swings like a pro. He always knows just what to say, and he never really can take it personal when you get an attitude with him- mainly bc he likely deserved it with his own sarcasm

He's patient with you when you get snippy at him. He'll give you space when you need it, or will be extra attentive. Whatever you want. He's learned to read your emotions

He'll hold your hair back and rub your back whenever the morning sickness hits. Get you some tea, maybe a little toast if you feel like you can hold it down

One day you just couldn't hold anything down, by evening you're in tears, frustrated with everything. You attempted to eat some saltines and couldn't even hold those down. You're crying on the bathroom floor and Logan sits with you, cradling you in his arms as he says soothing things,

"You're so strong bub. You're gonna be okay. I'm right here."

You'll get backrubs and footrubs anytime you want

The food cravings and constantly being hungry becomes a lot too. It's fortunate that Logan had learned to be a decent cook over time.

He'll insist that you eat only healthy good foods for the baby, but when you look at him with pouty lips and pleading eyes because you REALLY want that extra cheese pizza topped with extra pepperonis and peppers, along with those garlic knots, and chocolate chip peanut butter ice cream, AND caramel sea salt chocolates. He has to give in. he's grabbing his keys and wallet to get what you want

Listen, you totally want to eat healthy for the baby too, and you do! You take your vitamins, you incorporate so much fruit and veggies and whatever else in your meals

But dammit sometimes that baby just wants fries dipped in ice cream and you learned how to sneak those unhealthy snacks under Logans radar

(or so you think, hes' got heightened sense of smell. he DEFINITELY smells the weird junk food you're sneaking)

You're tossing and turning one night, feeling restless and just wanting to eat. You wake him up, chatty as hell and eventually you tell him you want something to eat

"Bub you just had a whole meal 2 hours ago"

"I know just something small. Like a poptart. or a rice krispie"

He sighs. "No more poptarts or rice kripies. I'll make you something."

He closes his eyes, expecting to get another few minutes of sleep before he goes to the kitchen, but he can't feel you staring at him. Hard. He took a breath, pushing the blankets off as he got himself out of bed, heading to the kitchen to make you a good healthy snack

don't worry, he's not mad. he actually finds he loves the pregnancy quirks of yours

when you start getting those random hormone rushes, bursts of energy, running around doing anything and everything he gets so amused. but he loves it too when you also start getting sleepy

he really loves it when you get sleepy because then all you want to do is snuggle with him.

you get borderline violent about cuddling with him. you wrap your entire self around his body and you do not let go. even with his strength it's nearly impossible to peel you off him and if he does (he made the mistake once) you get extremely pissy and teary eyed

He will not let you do anything

and by that i mean you're not carrying groceries, you're not cleaning, you are not allowed to stand on ladders or counters, no picking up heavy things

You and him have a time of night and morning where you snuggle, and he'll designate time to talk to you, give you kisses and say sweet things, and then he'll move to talk to your belly

"Gotta make sure the lil one knows my voice"

He loves resting his ear on your belly, hearing both of your heartbeats.

he'll give you a kiss, then the belly, then you again

You better be ready to be touched a lot. He's always gotta put his hand on you somehow. It's not just about feeling your preggo belly but just you too.

NESTING

yeah, hes gonna drive you insane. He gets the urge to redo everything. the babys room. your room. the entire house/apartment if you're living in one.

He makes your bed the comfiest spot every so that's a perk. tons of pillows, only the fluffiest and warmest blankets

while you make decisions on the babys room together, he really wants to put the stuff together, so you sit in your rocking chair in the room and watch him as he gets angry over the crib instructions

it's really cute when he insists on a more foresty/woodland themed room for your baby.

As you get bigger, he gets more and more protective

he actually growled at someone once for attempting to touch your belly without permission. not a bad thing to have at least

it's a little more embarrassing though when it's your friends that you did say could touch your belly and logans hackles raise over it

he tries to recognize when he's doing too much but he can't help it, instinct.

Logan is over the moon when the baby kicks the face time

he just happened to have his hands resting on your belly

when he felt it, you both jumped, staring at your belly and then each other

when you realized it was the baby kicking, you both were like giddy teenagers

logan puts his head against your belly, waiting for it when the baby kicks again- right on his face

he gets slightly offended

but he kisses your belly anyway, promising your baby that he's always going to love them and take care of them

it pulls on your heart strings a bit

you and logan don't care if it's a boy or girl- and decide to leave it a surprise,

arguing over baby names though wasn't fun. you eventually though land on a name if its a girl, and a name if its a boy, names that you both adored

when you start shopping for baby clothes, logans looking at the little girl dresses and you could see the softness on his face, the way he adored the little dresses.

he can't even get embarrassed

it's so cute watching logan sit in the middle of the girly baby aisle, surrounded by pink bows.

he gets equally excited over the boys stuff too.

forever believe logan will just be a great dad in general

when you get big enough where doing things are hard on your own, logan starts definitely not leaving you alone very often

he helps you out of bed

with your shoes

if hes around and you're trying to get up from a couch or chair- even if you aren't struggling he'll still be there to help you up

you ever see those trends where dads hold mommas belly up to provide some relief? logan will insist on doing that.

he just thinks your so damn cute with your round belly

logan will eventually express his nerves about being a father. he'll need reassurance here and there that you think he'll do good.

you think logan would be an absolutely wonderful father of course. look how good he takes care of you

not to mention his non-bio daughters like jubilee, rogue, and kitty

and if lauras around too, it won't be like he never had any experience

logan will definitely stay calm and collected when you go into labor

he supports you every step of the way

if you're going to a local hospital, you bet your ass he'll be speaking for you and protecting you from anything unneccessary

all the while supporting you every way possible. don't worry about squeezing his hand too hard. he literally survived a nuke

despite the amount of things he's seen, it is still hard for him to see you in so much pain. he may even hold back a tear or two. he has to focus on you though

when the baby is here, he's all over you first, making sure you're okay. then his instincts kick in and he's all over the baby

that first cry breaks his heart and he doesn't like how the nurses and doctors seemed pleased by the whole thing. okay sure, it's a good thing. his baby is still crying though and he doesn't appreciate the smiling

you guys ever see that picture of Hugh bottlefeeding his newborn, i think it was during the x-movies filming. that is such a cute picture honestly it makes my utereus clench

he's so proud and supportive of you by the way. He takes wonderful care of you both when you get home

all that worrying for nothing. he was a pro with yours and his baby.

NSFW (mention piv, breastmilk, body worship)

yes i had to include an nsfw part here dont judge me

Logan should have known it would happen eventually. the way he always needs to finish inside you. even if you were using protection, he should have known that it would fail one day

he'll pick up on the hormones quickly, the smell of you triggers something in him and once you both figure out you'll pregnant itll all make sense

at first things are pretty usual with your sex life but the hormones start kicking in

you start gaining a little fat, your breasts get bigger, maybe your ass

you were already irresistable to logan before. now though, pregnant with his baby?

like i said, the mans always touching on you. when youre in private though hes REALLY touching you

don't worry, you feel the same. your hormones start to really kick in and you're aroused 24/7 and he can smell it

"you look so fucking good like this bub." he'll moan when he's thrusting into you, seeing your swollen belly and breasts.

it's not just about you being pregnant but you two just can't keep your hands off each other because you're happy.

your sex life was already very active, now it's even MORE active, like, you cannot keep your hands off him. he's the same way. you look and smell so damn good he can't take it, he HAS to fuck you

logan being a dad to your baby is making him 10 times hotter

logan probably cuts back on being rougher if you both are into that, much to your disdain. your hormones are on fire and you need him to fuck you hard

it takes a little begging and he breaks, giving you what you want

"look at you bub, fucking begging for it. as if i hadn't given you enough already"

logan practically drools anytime he sees you naked

as you get really big, sex becomes less common because you're not really comfortable, and maybe doctors tell yalls to slow it down for a bit.

logan will of course not do anything to risk you or the baby but fuck when you walk around in that tight black dress, tits and belly all swollen. he can barely stand it.

fortunately even if you aren't having penetrative sex, you're still fairly aroused so logan gets to get off to your hand or mouth. he'll return the favor with some light oral

he'll want to help you shower all the time

you're just so beautiful to him.

when you start getting self conscious over your weight gain, logan won't have it. he'll be doing some serious body worship doing your pregnancy, don't worry.

kissing your stretch marks, his hand rubbing soothingly all over your body as he whispers how beautiful you are

when it's closer to your due date, the doctor gives you a list of recommendations to help get things rolling

when logan finds out sex is one of those things, he's over the moon.

you personally, just want to get the mini canadian out of there at this point

it's not the first thing you try, because youre self conscious despite logans affirmations that he thinks you're so sexy

eventually you give in

lets just say you both were on the way to labor and delivery soon after

he adores your body after birth too. like i said. body worship to the maximum. even when you're not banging cause you need to heal first, he's kissing every inch of you to make sure you know he adores you. he sees how you've looked at yourself in the mirror and he isn't gonna have it

oh btw he'll definitely accidentally taste your breast milk straight from the source at some point. he really doesn't do it on purpose, he just got lost in kissing and sucking on you.

lost in the sauce if you may

he wants you to heal and feel good though, so even after the 3 months are up, he'll want to wait a little longer, because he doesn't want to hurt you. he's a big man.

EXTRAS: (random stuff )

the people who are around you are ecstatic over the announcement of your pregnancy

charles is just glad he gets to be a grandpappy (as if he isn't already)

maybe jean and scott are expecting too, or already have their little one, so you guys bond with the couple over parenting as well

wade immediately refers to himself as uncle wade

will also say "our baby" when referring to you and logans baby. logan does not like that.

wade makes a deadpool onesie. you have to stop logan from tearing it apart

okay but a onesie based on logans suit would be so goddamn cute

i said before that logan doesn't like ANYONE touching your belly. even if it's a trusted friend

if someone asks, very politely, you have to make sure logan isn't around before you say yes.

one time hank asked and you said yes, not realizing logan was coming around the corner. it was really embarrassing the way logan ran up so fast, immediately pushing hanks hand off.

hank laughed it off

im sure yall have your own ideas for what yours and logans baby names would be. I think Charlie would be really cute, naming the baby after charles (and it's a gn name!)

rogue, jubilee, and kitty, would be over the moon. they would be so supportive of you and logan

laura would be so excited, a bit curious. you and logan will make sure she doesn't in anyway feel neglected or replaced during the entire pregnancy and when the baby comes

laura is obviously a great big sister.

they would definitely tease logan too btw

you guys don't even need to register. due to the people you love around you- you basically get everything you need before you 3rd trimester even starts

you and logan can be assured that your baby will always be safe and loved no matter what because of the family you both have found. (yes even with origins and old man logan)

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #logan howlett smut #vans daydreams #logan howlett imagine #pregnancy #logan howlett fluff

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campbell-rose · 1 year ago

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Ok ok i'm a liar oops. Saw the Millie short (I have thoughts) and the season 2 trailer and i had to do my poor sweet underdeveloped bird girls justice.

Octavia is virtually the same personality wise, except she has hobbies that Stolas is completely unaware of but Stella supports fully. Specifically taxidermy, which Stella finds fascinating. I don't vibe with the design after staring at it for a while, but this was just a doodle and potential colors, i'll have to draw Stolas and then figure out her colors.

In demon lore, Andrealphus teaches lots of things, but he is said to teach astronomy, so i decided Stella (as her name would suggest) is very knowledgable on the subject and star gazes. I gave her a galaxy esc dress similar to Stolas's s1 ep7 outfit and changed her colors a bit.

They have a good mother/daughter bond in this because if Viv can't write a good mother figure then I'll do it myself dammit.

Stella is basically now all the fan theories before she was boiled down into a shitty one dimensional abuser to make the uwu gay bird sympathetic with a bit of my input.

She is the younger sister of Andrealphus, who married her to Stolas as a way of moving up in the world - as Stolas is a Prince and Andrealphus is a rank below him as a Marquis. Stella initially was distraught but tried to be good. She tried to find common ground, seeing as both her and Stolas liked stars, but they never clicked fully. When Octavia was born, Stella shifted her attention to her and started being passive aggressive to Stolas, letting her years of anger out on him in little jabs. Things along the line of her throwing a not divorced party but she doesn't loudly insult him in front of her guests.

When Stolas cheats on her with an imp, she's fucking furious. She's given up her entire life to this man, to bring her family name higher and her husband cheats on her with an IMP. The lowest of the lower class, and now her gossipy high society friends she's spent years getting into the good graces of will know. So she's a mix of fucking furious and just a tinge hurt. She's not justified btw, i just want to show her side of things for once because Viv is allergic to developing female characters.

She adores Octavia in my version. Utterly adores her. So of course she takes Octavia and tries to keep her away from Stolas as much as possible. She loves her daughter and wants to raise her better than she was raised.

That's all I might do a Sallie May and Millie redesign again who knows

#anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss rewrite #helluva boss redesign #helluva rewrite #helluva boss octavia #helluva boss stella

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wannaeatramyeon · 6 months ago

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Being Goo Kim's Secret Friend: Gitae Kim

2.2k. G/N. Gitae Kim x reader. Reader is morally grey. Gets spicy (Prequel-ish: An Introduction) Other Masterlists

“So, let me get this straight."

"Mm." Goo hums, meaning go ahead.

"You're paying me to babysit?"

"Man-sit," he interjects.

"Whatever." You flap your hand, "but I am looking after this person, correct?"

"Yes my little sweetpea." Goo rests his head on your shoulder, so close you could count his eyelashes and see the way his pupils dilate. "It's my secret friend's first time back in Seoul after being away. It'll be good for you to show him around."

"...I'm charging my usual rate."

"Sure-"

"And you're covering our expenses."

He rolls his eyes, "Ugh, fine."

Gitae Kim, from what you have managed to find out, is patricidal and a powerful man with unsavoury dealings.

"Play nice," was Goo's parting advice when you came to him with your concerns.

"Play nice?!" You say, voice shrill. Goo grins.

"Fuck you, my rate just tripled."

The grin drops and is replaced by a scowl.

"I thought we could try this place. It serves the best yukhoe." You gaze over to Gitae sitting in the passenger seat as you navigate the roads, checking if there's any response.

Nothing.

"Raw beef tartare." You explain, "I've heard you can be bloodthirsty."

His eyes flicker to you and you give him your most charming smile.

Head resting in your palm and elbow on the table, you observe him.

You find his table manners leaves a lot to be desired and watching him has put you off your own meal.

He eats like a beast but if the ferocity that he attacks his food is anything to go by, you're right on the money with guessing his taste.

"Let's get you another drink," you murmur, signalling for the staff. "Goo will kill me if you choke to death and I'm not practised with the heimlich."

"That was good, right?" You ask, striding alongside and trying to match Gitae step for step as he ignores you.

"I think you enjoyed it. Or you look like you did. I'm not really a fan of raw anything to be honest but gotta be a good host." You direct a smile his way and he hasn't even glanced over at you. You shrug it off and continue to ramble. "I'm still pretty hungry. There's a really good bubble tea place round here and they have a limited edition drink I want to get-"

"No," Gitae cuts in rudely.

"It won't take five minutes."

"No." He repeats, indicating there's no room for argument.

"Aww, cmon," you pout and he once again continues to ignore you. You consider going anyway, with or without Gitae.

Goo, face scrunched up in anger and shrieking obscenities, pops into your mind's eye when you imagine telling him that you might have lost his secret friend because you wanted a bubble tea.

"Fine," you grumble and throw Gitae a dirty look.

Gapryong's eldest is a man of few words and it only adds to his intimidating and menacing aura.

You've seen his list of achievements and he is not someone you want as an enemy. But when someone is this difficult, your default is to try and see what response you can get out of them.

"You know they have vapes now," you signal at the pipe hanging from his belt as you continue to walk next to him.

"Do you smoke?" you ask, and expectedly, he doesn't respond,

"No? I guess it's cool you're committing to it for aesthetic reasons." Then dammit, you wonder what has gotten into you. Maybe it's hanging out with Goo too much because you can't help but add, "Even if it makes you a bit... y'know."

He slows, looking over at you at the same time that you pull a face. Indicating clearly you meant 'cringe' even if you didn't say it aloud.

"You do you though," you say, giving him a thumbs up.

He looks at you for a beat longer, head tilted and eyes narrowed, before continuing on his way with you scurrying to catch up.

By the end of the first week, Gitae has responded to exactly three things that you've said.

The second week, he's still mostly silent but he actually looks at you sometimes when you talk.

The third week, he calls you by your name when he demands your attention and you're surprised that he even knows who you are.

And the fourth - you manage to make him laugh.

Ok, maybe laugh is a bit generous, but he exhales harder than usual and you're sure he's at least amused.

GItae thinks you're strange.

You run your mouth like you don't know who you're talking to, though you anticipate his needs and preferences like you've been studying him for most of your life.

You're this side of irritating, but not irritating enough that he wants to kill you.

And, the few times he tunes in to your comments, he admits that he finds you quite entertaining.

No-one has spoken to him like you do in a long time. There's a refreshing honesty to your words, and he's also confident that you're not going to stab him in the back at any second to wrest control of his cartel territory, which is also a welcome change from his usual company

It means that he can relax around you, or relax as much as someone like him can..

All in all, progress. Gitae finds himself trusting you like you're his second-in-command.

"What do you do for fun?" You ask. Gitae doesn't respond.

Right, you think, back to ignoring me.

You roll your eyes and start to ramble about this and that. You tell him that you're chronically online, giving a wry smile, and say it's a general side effect of your job but at least it's interesting to know the ins and outs of a few things.

Really though, maybe you should consider taking up some exercise to get fit or even as a form of self defence with your line of work and the people you come into contact with (you give Gitae a side eye at this) but it's kinda hard to find the time and-

"I can teach you," comes Gitae's low voice.

"What?"

"I can teach you," he repeats and your mouth drops open in shock.

Ok, as far as bad ideas go, this is a terrible one.

First, Gitae is huge. There is no chance you could even win in a spar or anything against him. You doubt even bullets would be able to penetrate that muscle.

Second, there is a lot of close contact and even more touching.

You aim a punch with all your might at him, any part of him. He deflects without effort, capturing your fist in his palm and he pulls you to his body. Chest against your back, wrapping his arms around you and pinning your own to your side as you try to wriggle out of his grasp.

He leans down to murmur into your ear. "You're very weak." You can feel his voice rumbling through his chest. "But you're very fun."

Your eyes snap to his at his words.

He's grinning, for the first time you've been with him. Eyes crazed and pupils blown, breath hot on your skin.

"Thanks!" You dip your head just before throwing it back sharply, connecting to Gitae's nose with a loud crack.

Gitae's nose isn't broken though it is bruised.

You apologise profusely and he tells you you have nothing to apologise for.

"It's a great hit."

You halt in your apologies, peering up at him through your lashes with a smug smirk, "I know."

Your response plays on his mind.

The lift of your lips, the sharpness of your smile, the confidence in your eyes, that half-lidded gaze.

"I know."

Gitae sees you in a new light.

He has enough of an understanding of Goo Kim to know that he's selective with his secret friends, and you have talked enough that Gitae also understands you play the role of brain rather than brawn.

Though he did not expect such viciousness to hide under your veneer, or you to be capable of such an underhanded move.

He's impressed.

"Why do all these shows make Mexico so blue?" You ask, watching a scene unfold on your phone. "Is it actually?"

You hold out the device to Gitae, some drama show playing and Mexico is indeed blue tinged.

"No."

"Hmm. It'll be cool to see for myself." You murmur, pulling your phone back.

Gitae pauses. The idea of you in his territory is very appealing. He can demonstrate to you exactly the kind of man he is, the power he wields. He can relish the impressed (or horrified) look on your face.

"I can show you," he says and you beam at the offer.

"Deal!"

“How many people have you killed with this?” you flex your hands, signalling ‘gimme’ and Gitae passes over his axe.

“Too many to count.”

“Cool,” you say nonchalantly, testing your grip. Gitae gives you a strange look.

“I gather intel, remember. That’s my thing,” you say, swinging the axe experimentally a few times and appreciating the heft behind it.

The meaning is clear: I know all your secrets and Gitae, to his surprise, feels some respite at this fact.

"Fuck," you squirm to no avail, trapped underneath Gitae as he looks down at you lazily, inches from your face.

Your wrists are pinned above your head, held in place by his grip as his other hand rests, light but threatening, on your throat.

You have had a few other training sessions since the first one, and the way they had gone was all pure luck. You had managed to gain the upperhand by complete fluke.

This time you feel completely stuck. Movement completely restricted. Gitae straddles your hips and you’re left unable to escape. You have no way to get close and cause any damage.

"Looks like you lose," he says.

You buck your hips, trying to throw him off but the weight and strength difference is too vast. He barely moves even with all your effort and you’re left more dishevelled than before. Shirt riding up and hair in your eyes and mouth.

“Fuck,” you groan again, elongating the word and pouting.

You peer up at Gitae and find his eyes flicking between your jutted out bottom lip and your sliver of skin on show.

An idea pops into your head. It may be your worst one yet.

Throwing caution to the wind, you tilt your head up in one swift movement and kiss Gitae full on the mouth. You make contact harder than anticipated, almost clashing your teeth painfully together but adjusting the angle just in time.

His body stills when he realises what you’re doing.

“Why-” he asks, pulling away, and you take advantage of the distance to nip at his bottom lip and reel him back in.

Gitae’s thoughts are cut off.

You bite down roughly, feel your sharp canines punctuating skin.

Blood bursts onto your tongue and he lets out a guttural groan, eyes boring into yours and darkened with lust.

His other hand releases your wrist, caressing over your body, slipping down until it reaches your bare exposed skin. He slides his palm under your top, long, thick fingers splaying over your ribs.

With your hands now free, you continue kissing him, mingling spit and saliva and bursts of metallic tang.

You squirm and this time, Gitae gives in to what you want; rearranging his position without breaking contact. Tongue delving into your mouth. Tasting you as you wrap your legs around his hips.

Taking advantage of the situation, you hug your arms around his neck and use your body as leverage to flip him over. Straddling him as his hardness grinds into you and his hands circle your waist to press your body close.

You can feel exactly how turned on he is, how much he wants you. And god, you’re just as fucking horny. You want him just as badly, except now you’ve managed to climb on top, the whole point of this came rushing back. You absolutely hate yourself for stopping this but-

It’s the principle.

“You know,” you murmur into his mouth, then pushing up off his chest to sit up, “I think I’ve won. Again”

Gitae frowns at the sudden loss of contact, “What?”

“I’ve won. Pretend this is a knife,” you smirk, holding your hand against his throat, in an almost-mirror image of your previous position. “I would have killed you.”

Gitae’s eyes widened in surprise, “You did this… to win?”

“Yep!”

“I didn’t expect you to play so dirty.” He says, grinning maniacally as the pieces click into place and he finds himself completely captivated.

“I play as dirty as I need to,” you tell him, tongue swiping out to lick the remnants of his blood from your lips before dipping your head down to kiss him and continue where you left off.

#lookism #lookism x reader #gitae kim #kitae kim #kim gitae #gitae kim x reader #kim gitae x reader #a little bit of the classic ->#goo kim x reader #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #wannaeatramyeon

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moni-logues · 13 days ago

Text

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (afab)

Genre: a little pwp but a little established something, friends-to-lovers

Summary: Namjoon accidentally sends a text intended for you to your roommate.

Word count: 3.2k

Content: sexting, shower sex, oral (f receiving)

A/N: for @rpwprpwprpwprw for asking if i have more namjoon (and making me realise that, outside of A Fine Line, I have precious little 😭) this is a repost that has been a little edited and re-titled

Coming Clean

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god,” Yeji repeated over and over as she barged into your room and sat herself on your bed. “Why is Namjoon texting me this?!”

She thrust her phone into your face and you tried to control your expression as you read.

Namjoon: I think I'm going to need a cold shower...

Namjoon: unless you want to join me...

Ok, you thought, could be worse. Wasn't that bad at all, really. Maybe. A bit suggestive, certainly random, but he had some plausible deniability--

Unfortunately, the text was only part of it. Yeji scrolled and your jaw dropped as your eyes lit on a photo that left almost nothing to the imagination. He wasn’t fully naked, but as near as dammit. You could’ve seen his erection from space. The colour drained from your face. You spluttered, choked, didn’t know what to say. And then another message came through.

Namjoon: FUCK

And in a second, both previous bubbles disappeared, replaced by ‘This message was deleted’.

Namjoon: I know you saw that... I can see you read them...

Namjoon: I’m SO sorry

Namjoon: Obviously they weren’t meant for you, Yeji

Namjoon: PLEASE forget you ever saw them

Namjoon: PLEASE

Namjoon: PLEASE PLEASE

Namjoon: I’m so so so so sorry

“Wow,” was all you could choke out.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Yeji screamed, so close to you that you thought your eardrum might burst. “WHO IS HE SEXTING?!”

The answer was you. Or rather, he was supposed to be sexting you and not Yeji. He had been sexting you recently. Doing a lot more than that, too. You just hadn’t told anyone yet.

It was an accident, really. Neither of you meant it to happen. It just did. There was nothing ground-breaking about it. Same old story: you drink too much and get a little handsy with each other because you’ve secretly kind of always liked each other; then you get more than a little handsy and then you do it again and again and, suddenly, it’s A Thing. A thing you decide not to tell everyone else about. Not exactly Austen or Shakespeare but good enough for you.

You sat on your phone as it began to buzz, hoping to hide its sudden, coincidental flurry of activity. You didn’t need to check it to know that it was Namjoon. You didn’t know why he was calling; you and Yeji lived together: of course she was going to run straight to you with this. Of course you wouldn’t be able to answer.

“I don’t know,” you answered Yeji. “It might just be some person from an app.”

She looked at you sharply.

“Why are you not also screaming?! Did you not SEE what I saw?! Are you MAD?!”

“I saw it! I saw it! But... I don’t know, he’s a grown man; he can sext who he likes.”

“Not without telling us! Ugh, the gossip! He’s depriving us! Besides, wow, who knew he was packing like that?”

You nudged her with a grin, trying to play it cool, frantically kicking your legs underwater to smooth this over.

“Let the man have a couple of secrets, eh? What's the harm? He’ll tell us when he wants to. And I think he probably doesn’t want you to know he’s packing like that. Doesn’t want me to know either,” you added hastily. “He would probably prefer that neither of us had seen that. You shouldn’t have shown me that! He’ll be embarrassed. Just let him have his secrets and his privacy, at least for today.”

“But I want him to tell me NOW! I’m going to reply to him. The interrogation is starting. I will keep you updated, if you even care.”

She was already standing and wandering back out of your bedroom.

“Sure you don’t want to interrogate him with me?” she asked, though she kept walking, knowing you would refuse.

“I’m sure; I’ve got some stuff to work on.”

“Suit yourself. I’ll fill you in later.”

She shut your door as she left and you whipped out your phone.

Namjoon: oh god i’ve done something bad

Namjoon: like really bad

Namjoon: I was trying to text you—I was supposed to send it to YOU

Namjoon: I accidentally sent a photo of my dick to Yeji

Namjoon: she definitely saw it

Namjoon: I don’t know how I get out of this. What do I say? I can’t tell her it was meant to go to you!

Namjoon: Help me

You laughed and pressed dial, hoping Yeji was focused enough on her mission to pay no heed to the sound of your voice in the next room.

“Hey.” He sounded a little breathless, his breathing a little heavy down the phone.

“Yeah, so Yeji just left my bedroom actually. She showed me what you sent.”

Namjoon groaned.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry; it was just a mistake.”

“But how do we get out of it?”

“I don’t know. I told her it might just be someone on an app; you could go with that. Pretend to have a casual thing-”

“But then if we come out and say we’re... whatever we are, the timeline won’t work-”

You shrugged, alone in your bedroom.

“That’s a bridge we can cross when we get to it. We can just say you lied to keep it a secret.”

“I guess.”

“Seriously, Namjoon, I think it’ll be fine. Yeji will find something else to obsess about soon enough, by tonight probably.”

You were trying to convince yourself as much as you were trying to convince him. You were right, Yeji would find something else to be distracted by. It probably wouldn’t erupt all over your friendship group; it probably wouldn’t get out of hand. They probably wouldn’t tease him mercilessly about it until you abruptly shouted up that it was you, thus revealing everything.

Probably.

It’d be fine.

He groaned again.

“Just such a stupid thing to do. And I’ll tell you this for free: a very effective boner killer, too.”

You laughed.

“So you don’t want me to come over and shower with you?”

“Oh, shit, I didn’t say that. My door is always open to you, you know that.”

You sighed.

“I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight so I don’t know if I’ll make it.”

“Ok.”

“But keep thinking those thoughts, ok?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh and Namjoon?”

“Yeah?”

“Send me the photo?”

You didn’t know about Namjoon but you did keep thinking those thoughts. They were driving you to distraction. You had barely read more than a page of your report in the last half-hour. You kept unlocking your phone, looking at your message thread with Namjoon, at that photo. At a certain point, it becomes more efficient to do the distracting thing first and then knuckle down. Get it out of your system so you can concentrate afterwards. It was starting to sound like a very appealing course of action.

You picked up your phone again.

You: have you showered yet?

Namjoon: No, why?

You: Can I come over?

Namjoon: Do you even have to ask?

Namjoon: (that means yes)

Namjoon: please

Namjoon: come now

Namjoon: please

You shut your laptop; Yeji was similarly sequestered in her bedroom so you were able to sneak out without rousing any sort of curiosity. Thank god.

“Hi.”

“So about this shower.”

And the door had barely closed behind you before Namjoon was kissing you, pulling you closer, running his hands up your body.

“You really want to shower?” he asked. His voice was low and gruff, his words mumbled against your neck.

You laughed.

“Transparency: I want you to fuck me in the shower.”

He responded by nipping at your earlobe.

“You gonna ask nicely?”

“No.”

He gave your nipple a tweak and you jerked against him, your hips knocking into his, drawing a quiet moan from his mouth. He grinned at you and kissed you firmly.

“That’s my girl.”

Your clothes littered the floor as they were discarded en-route.

“Why haven’t we done this already?” Namjoon asked as he hoisted you onto the edge of the counter. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about this so much.”

“You’re a shower sex guy, huh? Noted.”

“For you? I’m an anywhere-sex guy.”

Your words were taken from you, from your mouth to his as he pressed his lips to yours and licked into your mouth. You were hot already, even before the shower began to fill the room with steam. That was the thing about Namjoon; he made you so impatient. The mere thought of him had your heart racing. A kiss was enough to get you wet. To make you hot. To have you scrabbling and scrambling to undress him. To have you gasping and moaning before he’d even touched you.

When he kissed you, your mind was wiped clean, a blank static fuzz. When he sucked hard bruises into your neck, your chest, you were nothing but animal. No shame, no overthinking, no insecurity, just pleasure buzzing all over your skin, shivering down your spine, coiling in your guts, pooling in your core.

Namjoon sank to his knees on the hard, tiled floor and kissed your inner thighs. He wrapped his arms around them, pulled you a little closer—you clutched the edge of the counter and his hair for balance—then he licked you, firmly from slit to clit and back again, into every fold and then into your cunt. You weren’t backward about coming forward and, when you had first done this with Namjoon, you had been fully prepared to tell him how to do it, how you liked it. He hadn’t needed the instruction. That first time, he’d had you reeling after a screaming orgasm within a minute.

You didn’t think you’d last even that long this time. Not with his lips around your clit, his tongue warm and wet against it, the soft pressure as he sucked, the harder pressure as he flicked, the feel of his fingers as he rocked them inside you, insistent and unstoppable. He made a mess of you and, moments later, you made a mess of him, coming over his face, your slick dripping down his hand.

He pressed sticky kisses onto your stomach, his tongue laved over your stiffened nipples, his lips pressed softly against yours and then harder, then his teeth took your lip and he bit down.

“So about this shower,” he murmured against your lips, his eyes poring over yours.

You couldn’t speak, could only nod, and he held you steady as you settled your feet back on the floor, your legs still wobbly.

The room was hot now, the water hotter. As Namjoon crowded you against the shower screen, you felt breathless, a little suffocated but you didn’t know if that was down to the steam or to Namjoon. He ran his hands all over you as you kissed, your bodies pressed tightly together, his flushed, leaking dick trapped between you.

Where Namjoon made you impatient, he seemed to have an unlimited supply of patience. He soaped you up, every inch of you, and you realised how intimate this was; it suddenly wasn’t just sex. He was touching your body with a different kind of care and attention now. Sex was imminent but this moment, this moment wasn’t about sex really. He turned you around, gently, running his hands down your back and over your backside, all the way down to your feet and all the way back up. He pressed a kiss to your soapy shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist. His lips then found the shell of your ear.

“Baby, you’re fucking beautiful,” he whispered and a spark rushed down your spine.

You turned your head and kissed him, trying to say with your body what you couldn’t find the words for. And then,

“Can you fuck me now?”

Because your heart may have been gripped tight in the fist of your feelings but your cunt was empty, aching, and much louder.

He grinned, his hands squeezing at your glutes, kneading, then pushing you forward a little, smoothing up your back and along your arms, placing your hands flat on the tiled wall, braced. He held you like that, in suspense, in anticipation, his hands here and there, his lips first on your hip, then the back of your neck, his body distant, then pressed close.

You begged because you had learnt that he liked it. That he liked it when you sounded a little breathless, a little whiny, your voice catching as you asked him, please, please, to fuck you.

“Namjoon... Please?”

You dipped your head, pressing your forehead to the wall, your fingers scratching down the tiles as you continued to clench, your soft, wet walls coming together around nothing. Still.

“Just one more time, baby. Just ask me one more time.”

“Please fuck me. Namjoon, ple- ah, fuck—hnn-”

It was familiar now, the pressure of the stretch as he pushed inside you. You swore quietly again as he bottomed out and dragged backwards, slowly, torturously slowly. He kept a hard grip on your hips, keeping you or him steady or both. The steam swirling around you, the clean, fresh scent of Namjoon’s soap, the water hitting your skin, Namjoon’s lips on your neck as he thrust a little harder now, squeezing past your g-spot, making your legs tremble—it was overwhelming.

You were transported. No longer just in the shower in Namjoon’s apartment. No longer was this just sordid nor was it mundane. It was you and Namjoon. A thing that had lain dormant in you, something you hadn’t seen coming until it happened and then you couldn’t believe that it hadn’t happened before. This was what you had been looking for. Yes, him fucking you, yes, the way he kissed you and the way he knew which buttons to press, yes, his dick hot and heavy on your tongue, thick and slightly curved and fucking you just right. Yes, all of that but more, too.

You had not talked about where this was going, what you were to each other, but now you knew and your heart grew three sizes, straining against the vice of your ribcage, thudding heavily against it, making your head dizzy with a rush of blood.

Namjoon grunted behind you, his breathing becoming laboured. Your name fell off his lips as though it had always lived there. His fingers found their way forward and onto your clit, rubbing in circles that started slow and got faster and faster as you made your way to a second orgasm.

He wasn’t far behind, his thrusts hard and rhythm faltering before he came with a long drawn-out curse. He pulled you backwards, held you tight against his chest and you were grateful for the support, not sure if you could stand.

“As good as the fantasy?” you asked, panting, your head tipped sideways and up to look at him.

He kissed you, deep and slow, making your knees weaker, your hands gripping tight at his arms around your waist.

“Better. Way better.”

You twisted and wrapped your arms around his neck. He kissed you again, pushed you backwards, your body meeting the wall. He sucked on your bottom lip, nipping lightly with his teeth, then he opened his mouth and you rolled your tongue with his, still able to taste yourself on him. You traded kisses, still under the persistent patter of water, still hot and wet and soft against the unyielding tile. Namjoon murmured your name against your lips.

“What should I tell Yeji, huh?”

“Oh, you’re thinking about Yeji right now? Maybe you did send that text to the right person...”

Namjoon headbutted you lightly.

“I’m worried,” he confessed.

“About what?”

His eyes were penetrating as he looked at you, trying to see into your mind, know what you were thinking. He did it when he needed reassurance, when he wished he could be more confident about what he had to say. You kissed him, brushed his hair back from his forehead, touched your nose to his.

“I don’t want to ruin this,” he said, voice still quiet until the rush of the water.

“How is it ruined?”

He shrugged, a small twist in his mouth.

“If people find out...”

You shrugged back, larger and surer than he.

"I never minded people knowing. You were the-”

“No,” he said, pulling back and looking at you quizzically. “What are you talking about? It was you who suggested keeping it a secret.”

“Not at all! It was you!”

“No, it wasn’t!”

“Well, if it was neither of us, then why are we keeping it a secret?!”

You looked at each other, aghast, bewildered. Then you laughed. You kissed his shoulder and he returned it on your temple.

“So should we just tell people now?”

“What exactly do we tell them?”

“That depends on what you want this to be, I guess,” you answered, acting casual as if your very breath weren’t sparkling in your lungs, making it hard to breathe, making the little shower cubicle airless as the two of you screeched up to a subject you’d been so easily avoiding.

“What do you want it to be?”

“I want to be with you. Like, for real. Relationship shit.”

The sigh of relief that came from Namjoon was so large it was almost comical. He kissed you. Wrapped his arms tight around you and moaned into the kiss. “Thank god. Me, too. Me, too.”

“So it’s settled then.”

“Settled.”

You nodded at each other, once, firmly, and then went back to kissing under the water.

Later, you sat with Namjoon in his bed, resting between his legs, your back against his chest.

You: btw, Namjoon meant to send that photo to me

Yeji: um

Yeji: WHAT

You took a photo of the two of you, Namjoon’s topless torso visible, your heads close, your smiles respectively bright and bashful. You sent it to Yeji.

Yeji: WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

You: yeah it’s kind of a thing

You: that we’ve been doing

You: for a bit

You: probably going to keep doing it some more, tbh

You: some more or a lot more yk

When she didn’t reply, you assumed first that she’d had a heart attack. Then that she was busy letting every single person she’d ever met know about the two of you. If you needed news spreading, she was the one to go to.

“So now everyone knows,” Namjoon said, nuzzling against your neck, dropping light kisses against your skin.

“Everyone knows,” you replied, tipping your head slightly to give him better access. “Oh, also,” you said, suddenly remembering, “everyone knows about your big dick, too. There’s no way Yeji kept that back.”

He laughed, hearty and full.

“I think I’m ok with that, actually.”

#namjoon x reader #rm x reader #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon smut #rm smut #bts smut

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neuro-psyche · 11 months ago

Text

jason todd is a girls girl.

let me explain (ik ik i say that a lot)

Jason Peter Todd will stand on business if it means helping someone out, especially a woman.

A creepy man following you home? woah that's crazy jason todd is very suddenly your friend and just so happens to be walking the same way.

Someone being a dick to you in public and making a scene? jason intervenes, handling the person after calling you a cab and paying for it up front.

You need someone to watch your drink? Mr. Fucking Red Hood will stand with a gun held over the drink until you get back, regardless of what he was doing.

Jason Todd is a girls girl in my mind and I will die on this fucking hill.

seriously though I feel like he and Steph would recreate that sonic meme that's like

Steph, saying something about how she, Cass and Babs are better than the rest : -and I'll prove once and for all that a female can be just as good of an hero as a male!

Jason : You know, anytime someone calls attention to the breaking of gender roles, it ultimately undermines the concept of gender equality by implying this is the exception and not the status quo.

Steph :

Jason :

Everyone and their mother :

Jason : What? Just because I'm a resurrected zombie freak and assassin, doesn't mean I'm not a feminist. I read pride and prejudice, dammit.

#dc comics #batman #dcu #jason todd #batfam #headcanon #batbros #comics #red hood #batfamily #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #i saw that video that was like 'who do i need to talk to to do a keg stand it's my birthday' and i immediately thought of our boy #him and diana would have in depth conversations about modern feminism #Jason and Selena would be besties fr fr #it's 2 am i wrote this instead of sleeping

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lycheeloving · 3 months ago

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Little fic about Bruce Wayne x a socially anxious reader! Bc I have social anxiety and wanted a relatable reader <3 Well. Partially relatable. I had to make them braver than me, to actually talk to Bruce in the first place lol

This is the first chapter of 3.

You're freaking out. Great.

Why did you come to this party again? Just because you happened to be one of the lucky random citizens to get invited? Because you didn't want to seem ungrateful? Because you were hoping that just once, you could manage to actually talk to others and have fun?

Yeah, well, that didn't work out. You're standing outside on a balcony, doing breathing exercises.

Actually, are you even allowed to be out here?

Fuck. You startle yourself out of your calm breathing and start sweating despite the cold.

You saw other people out here before you came here, so it should be fine! Unless only specific people are allowed here, or people are only allowed here at specific times?

You turn around to look at the door, but don't find any "do not enter" signs there.

Don't trust your anxiety thoughts! You're allowed to be here! Unfortunately that doesn't make you feel any better.

You turn to look at the skyline of Gotham again, hoping that that will calm you down.

How long have you been here, would it be weird to leave already? But you'd have to walk through the crowded room to get to an exit... Is there a backdoor maybe?

Just as you start googling the layout of the place you're in, you hear somebody else walk onto the balcony. Dammit. You hope they're just here to smoke and that they'll ignore you.

You stare at your phone. No results, the layout isn't available online. Makes sense, that would probably be a major security risk. Still sucks for you.

Maybe you should try those breathing exercises again. How did they go again? In for 4 seconds, hold for 3, out for 9, right? No, wait, it's in for 6, hold for-

"Are you ok?"

That was probably directed at you, but you're not in the mood for conversation. Especially a conversation about how you're feeling. Yikes. Maybe they'll take the hint if you just ignore them.

You look at your phone again, looking up how you're supposed to breathe when you're anxious.

You should honestly just leave. Do the busses run this late? If you have to call a taxi you might actually pass out.

Or if the stranger doesn't leave. Unfortunately they're allowed to be here. Probably. Unless nobody is allowed to be here and oh fuck, are they here to throw you out? No, probably not, calm down. Either way, nothing you can do. Just breathe.

"Not a big fan of parties, are you? Don't worry, me neither." The guy leans onto the railing right next to you, but you don't look at him.

Can't he just leave you alone? Fuck. Whatever. Your anxiety is already bad, how much worse could it get by talking to some rando?

Besides, you came here to try and fight against your anxiety, you should at least have one conversation.

"Uh, no. I'm not a party person. At all."

That's all he asked you, right? You hope you didn't forget half of his question.

"So why are you here?" Why does this guy have so many questions? What does he care?? Ok, calm down. One conversation, then you'll leave.

"I was one of the lucky random people to get invited. And I thought, well, maybe it wouldn't suck? And that it would be a good opportunity to—" To do something that helps you work on your social anxiety. Maybe don't tell that to a total stranger? You trail off.

"—to... Um. I don't even know. I thought maybe I would have fun? Maybe?" You try to smile, but it ends up being more of a weird grimace, directed at the floor. Off to a good start!

"Not to be rude, but you don't look like you're having fun." Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Maybe you should have brought a plus-one then, huh? Then at least you wouldn't be alone out here. Unless you did bring one and they abandoned you, of course... I hope that's not the case. Would be typical of me, bringing up a sore topic..." He did! But not in the way he thinks.

"Can't bring a plus-one when you don't have any friends!" Your tone sounds a bit more annoyed than you want it to.

"Oh. Well. Um. See? This conversation has been so short and I've already said something stupid. This is why I escaped onto this balcony, actually." He stops talking to take a deep breath. "Well, one of the reasons."

At least he doesn't seem super socially adept either. That makes you feel a bit better.

"It's fine. Whatever." You scratch at some dirt that's stuck to the railing. "Just, um, if you were trying to get away from the conversations, why are you talking to me?"

"Well, you looked like you weren't having a good time, so I tried to distract you, even if I'm not sure that really worked out." He shifts next to you, taking a break from talking as if unsure what to say next.

"And I have to admit, I might have followed you out here. Ok, I did follow you out here. Because I saw you, and thought you looked interesting. And beautiful. So I wanted to get to know you."

What?? He must be joking. You stick out like a sore thumb in your cheap clothing, and you've been acting awkward ever since you got here.

You finally look up at the weirdo who was apparently actively seeking you out, seeing his face for the first time. Your eyes widen.

That's Bruce Wayne. The guy who's throwing this party. Are there hidden cameras anywhere? You really should have left the party as soon as you started panicking more than normal, then this wouldn't have happened.

Why didn't you recognize his voice? You knew you should have watched that stupid puppy interview the internet has been raving about, then you would've known what he sounds like! How come you've never heard him speak before! Stupid elusive billionaire that only appears on video once in a blue moon...

"I'm Bruce, by the way." He smiles at you with his stupid, pretty, charming smile. Ugh.

"Yeah. Uh. I figured." At least you recognize his face. That would have been even more embarrassing...

"So... What's your name?" He's still smiling at you. Fucker. You reluctantly give him your first name.

"Wanna get out of here?" Your eyes widen and you take a step back. Woah. Is he propositioning you? You feel a bit flattered, but also, absolutely not. No way. You can't even really talk to him without panicking, how are you supposed to—

"I didn't mean—" He grimaces. "Not like that! I just meant, let's get some food, talk, something like that. I didn't mean to come onto you like that! Sorry. Too much, too fast. We could also just stay here and I'll get some food from inside? Super casually, no strings attached, just friendly conversation. So we can get to know each other a bit, because like I said, I think you're interesting. The most interesting person at this party by far. What do you say?"

Fuck. Sure. Whatever. You are kind of hungry and didn't want to touch any of the food here with all of these people staring at you, even though it looked very tasty... And Bruce seems nice enough! And, again, anxiety training. Yes, you're scared, but just this once, live a little!! Don't run away! Even if that's what your body is screaming at you to do.

"Um. Uh. S- Sure?"

After asking what kind of food you like, to which you just answered "Oh, um, whatever.", Bruce started squirreling away one of every food that's at the party to your little balcony. You won't touch some of it, because you are a bit of a picky eater, but you're not telling him that. Maybe you should have. Oh well.

Bruce even pulled the curtains indoors shut, so nobody will wander out onto this specific balcony. Cool! One less thing to worry about.

Then you start talking. He asks about what you do for work, your hobbies, what you're interested in... Just anything that he can think of.

At first you're reluctant to open up, but then you realize: You'll never see him again.

You can treat him like a therapist! Except of course that you never really told your therapists about anything, because you had more appointments scheduled with them, meaning you couldn't just avoid them after. No thanks!

But where would you ever see him again besides on TV, or maybe a paparazzi picture of him and a model in a shitty magazine? You never go to rich people places! Except for right now, but it's not like you'll be invited to the next party, and even if you are, you don't have to show up!

And if he tries to ask for your number or anything, you can just say no. Easy. (But also, what are the odds he'd even do that? What reason could he have to want to talk to you again? He's just trying to avoid the party.)

Talking to Bruce Wayne is basically like venting to faceless strangers online.

This is fine. This is good, actually.

Anxiety training with no consequences. Fine. You can do this.

You probably open up a bit too much, in between bites of delicious food, if you're honest. Whatever. That's for future-you to regret.

You tell him about your job at the bookstore, how you would have asked one of your coworkers to come with you tonight even though you're not close to any of them, but didn't know how to bring it up and also remembered that you lied and told them you have friends, and didn't want them to question you about why none of your friends can come with you instead.

About how you don't really have any hobbies besides sitting at home and maybe watching a show or a movie, or scrolling on your phone.

About how you only came today because you knew you had to try to do something against your anxiety disorder or at some point it would get so bad that you'd never leave the house again. And now you're even having a conversation!! A conversation that includes personal information about you!!

He tells you about himself as well, but you're so nervous that you don't really remember anything for longer than a minute. At least you remember long enough to keep up the conversation, even if you're probably acting awkward. Sorry, Bruce!

But you do also talk about other stuff, nothing personal about either of you, your opinions on this and that, and actually get along pretty well.

At some point the bat signal appears in the sky and you say that you're never sure if it's comforting to see, because it means that Batman is out there to protect people, or that it's scary, because it means that there's a reason that Batman is out there, meaning you could get hurt.

Bruce nods absentmindedly, then checks his phone and says that he has some business to take care off, but that he had a wonderful evening with you, really. You wave at him as he rushes away.

You can't say you're sad that the evening ended this way, as you spent more time with him you started worrying that he really was going to ask for your number or to see you again... This way, he didn't even get to ask your last name! No need to worry about having embarrassed yourself in front of someone you'll see again, just about the fact that he could tell the press about you, but he literally has no reason to do that, right? He wouldn't do that, shut up anxiety.

You leave the balcony a bit more confident in yourself than when you entered it.

Maybe next time you'll try this with someone you might even see again! But, baby steps. This was really good for a first step, though.

You mentally pat yourself on the shoulder as you make your way through the now thinned-out crowd towards the exit. This evening was a success!

Now as a reward you'll spend the rest of your night on your couch, scrolling social media while half-heartedly watching TV.

next chapter >

#lycheewritings #x reader #reader insert #bruce wayne x reader #batman x reader #dc x reader

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the-californicationist · 4 months ago

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Cali Cali bo-bali banana fana fo-fali me my mo mali! Cali!

I'm three Budweisers in and got an itch for alpha Price with a sudden need to breed (yay! Surprise rut!), and there's his sweet smelling omega neighbor who he's been keeping at arm's length because he's a professional dammit and has complete control of his urges, thank you very much.

Honestly, I just wanna see Mr. "I'm Married to My Job" lose it and show back up on base abashed and mated, and also ridiculously proud of his lil omega's claiming bite, because "she turned into a wildcat, lads. I couldn't stop her." *wink-wink*

Or not. I'm happy with any smutty Price fic you bestow on us, really. I'm just being weirdly specific because— alcohol = horny thots. 🍺😏🥴🫠

Drunken hugs 🫂 from Random Thot

RTG!! You are the most amazing person, and every time I see your pfp on AO3 or tumblr, I just get all gooey inside. Thank you for the ask! I wrote (and fully deleted) this fic three times because I wanted to get it right. I just pray that I could deliver. <3 <3 Hope this is what you were hoping for!!

MDNI/NSFW -- TW: damsel in distress, ABO dynamics, knotting, fuck-or-die scenarios, CNC, fluids, PIV sex, female OC

Glory, Glory

It was his last beer of the night, and he was ripping it apart. Curling, soggy shards of the torn label were stuck under his thumbnail, darkening the translucent edge and making it look dirty. They littered the sticky, lacquered bartop like ugly snow, falling in a tiny, chaotic mess. His hands were more than just dirty, the captain thought to himself as he used his wide thumb to itch at the glue-covered glass, rolling little, paper shards away from the smooth surface to reveal the amber liquid swirling within. The captain’s hands; they were covered in blood. Not innocent blood, but blood all the same. They’d never be clean again.

But, that was the job, and he was good at it. His hands were a direct reflection of his hard work. Killing evil bastards kept the world safe. Some poor sob in a factory could clean out the glue-painting machine that pasted these fuckin’ labels on all of these bloody beer bottles because of one unshakable truth: John Price was good at killing evil bastards.

Unfortunately, the killing would need to wait until after the mandated leave window closed again. His argument with Kate still grated inside of his head. He could almost hear her harsh, Yank accent in his ears.

“What do you want me to tell payroll, John? You can’t be here. You’ve got too many days. Go home. See your mom.”

“I see her plenty, Katie. Let me run that ops gig with Keller. C’mon. I’ll do overwatch,” he tried his best to weasel his way back into a bit of active duty.

“You’d be the world’s most expensive overwatch. Hell no. Here’s your ticket,” she shoved an envelope in his hands, “...and your money,” another envelope, “Go the fuck home, Captain. That’s an order.”

An order. More like a toothless threat.

But, alas, here he was, staring at a freshly shaved, buzzcut version of himself in a filthy pub mirror, undressing bottles left and right.

“Another, mate?” The barkeep pointed to his almost-empty drink, making a slight grimace at the paper graveyard that was sprinkled across his bar.

“No,” John sighed, pulling out a few notes from his wallet, “I’m off.”

“Happy Christmas,” the barkeep took the bills and didn’t bother to look up again, setting himself to sweeping the torn strips off of the surface, preparing for the next paying customer.

“You, too,” John muttered, tugging his black wool beanie over his ears before braving the classic cold, wet, and windy Liverpudlian night.

He didn’t live far. John’s mum had kept up his loft down by the docks, but it certainly didn’t feel like home. Home wasn’t real. Not anymore. As he walked along the Mersey’s edge, he peered into the black water, wondering if he’d ever truly go home again.

All of a sudden, he heard a shrill scream. Every sense that had been dulled by his lager was now as sharp as a blade and set on its edge. Again, a high-pitched shout pealed through the night air, beckoning him back to his heroism. That keening was the sound of some evil that needed stamping out, and he was hungry for it.

He sprinted through the warehouse district, chasing the noise of scuffling, ducking behind alleys and abandoned garages, looking for the source. Finally, there was a flash of red that caught his eye, so he ran towards it, his mind making sense of the scene in front of him.

Voices were jumbled and mashed up together, barely registering in his mind.

“Out here in a fuckin’ heat. Dumb bitch! C’mere.”

“She’s got a knife!”

“C’mere, you little slag. Get –”

In the middle of three huge, stinking Alphas, a tiny Omega was struggling, arm outstretched, brandishing her knife at them to keep them at bay. John came up behind the biggest one, some bald fuck with a dirty coat, and dropped him, cracking his spine in two places with well-placed fists, and breaking his jaw on his way down to the ground, leaving him groaning on the concrete.

One of his mates, a older man with thick, black eyebrows, lunged at Price, a look of indignant surprise on his face. The Omega screamed, her red coat yanked back over her face by the third man, her knife clattering to her feet. Price focused on Mister Eyebrows, dodging a lazy haymaker before popping him twice in the nose, drawing out his blood and knocking out at least two of his front teeth. Then, John grabbed him by the collar, pulling his jaw into his raised knee and listening to the satisfying splash as he fell into a murky puddle.

Finally, he set his sights on the last Alpha of the pack whose ropey arm was looped across the Omega’s neck, choking the air from her lungs. He growled at Price, his scent turning to rancid fear,

“Stay back! She’s mine, you big bastard.”

The captain had nothing to say. With a practiced ease, he side-stepped her assailant, breaking the elbow that controlled her throat, making him release her immediately. The evil bastard stumbled back, hand outstretched, bargaining for his life,

“Wait, wait. I’ll share her with you, how’s that? I’ll even let you have first go!”

A deafening howl came out of his mouth as Price’s boot heel made contact with his kneecap, forcing it to snap at a terrible angle. John’s hand shot out and grabbed the man by the hair on the crown of his head, tugging cruelly at his scalp. Without mercy, John slammed his face into a nearby bollard, and the howling stopped.

It was quiet again aside from the Omega’s trembling breaths. She had recovered the knife and was now pointing it towards John with shaking hands and wide, determined eyes.

“You alright, love?” Price asked, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, edging towards her in gentle, predictable steps.

“Y-yeah… Stay! Stay right there,” her voice was bright and clear, and he could hear her strength laced through her words. He stopped in his tracks, respecting her wishes.

“What are you doin’ all the way out here, darlin’?”

“They dragged me over here from Baltic Fleet,” she straightened up, getting her bearings, wiping the blood from a small cut in her cheek, “Fuckin’ bastards. Thank you, by the way.”

“Jus’ doin’ my job,” Price shrugged, waiting for her to lower the knife even further before he continued his approach.

“Police?” She asked, a little confused.

“Not exactly,” Price smiled, offering a hand out to her, “John Price, Captain of His Majesty’s RAF service.”

“Oh,” she studied him for a moment, and then her eyes fell to the hand, ready to bite but deciding to shake it instead.

When he touched her skin, Price felt her fever. Shocked, he tightened his grip, not meaning to startle her but too surprised by her temperature to ignore it.

“Christ, love. You’re burnin’ up.”

As quick as a flash, she yanked her hand out of his grasp and retreated back towards the wall of the warehouse behind her, scooting her way towards the corner to get out of his range, ready to bolt. She didn’t respond, but John watched as she wiped her brow, dotted with sweat and covered in concern.

“Hey,” he moved forward again protectively, “You can’t be out here alone. Not like this. At least let me walk with you. I’ll stay ten paces behind. It’s not safe.”

“I’m fine,” she said with more strength in her voice than what she was ready to produce.

“You’re not. You’re in a bloody heat. When did it start?” He watched as her knees began to tremble, and against her obvious wishes, he helped her sit on the warehouse deck, letting her keep the knife so she could feel safe.

“Yesterday…” She closed her eyes, trying to shake it off, “It’s… I’m fine. It’s never this bad.”

Now that he was close to her, Price was smothered by the scent of her body. The Omegan glands in her neck smelled like thick, wild honey, and her heat was mixing with her aroma, turning an already sweet smell into a lucious, decadent gourmand, pulling him in like quicksand.

“C’mon,” he helped her up, “Where’s your place? I’ll get you close.”

The clang of her knife made him glance up to see her eyes closed and her mouth slack. She was out, too weak to withstand the fever and the physical exertion.

Price felt his body react to her need. He was filled with rage, white and hot, at her situation. Those goddamn monsters were trying to take advantage of her in this vulnerable state. She should be home in her nest, being taken care of by her Alpha, covered in soothing oils and cool compresses, her needy little cunt stuffed full of his knot, staving off these symptoms and enduring them for her. Instead, she’d been hunted, chased, made to fight for her dignity out here in the middle of the docks. Something else inside Price’s chest curled around his anger.

Possession.

He tried to shake it off, knowing it came from being unmarked, but it had been so many years as a lone Alpha that he knew how to control it. Or, at least he thought he did.

Now, though, he found himself pulling at the neck of her coat as he held her in his arms, invading her privacy to check for a bite. He felt the shame wash over him as he covered her skin back up. He had no business searching for a mating bite. She was not his Omega, and he was not her Alpha.

After a few minutes out in the chilled wind, he made it to his apartment. Thankfully, it was late enough that his neighbors weren’t outside to witness what looked like a literal kidnapping, and he shuffled her inside without much trouble. Price lay her down on his long, leather sofa, careful to rest her head on the soft arm. He went to the kitchen to retrieve a cold rag and pressed it to her forehead, hoping to hold back the fever for as long as he could.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Wake up,” he whispered, trying to gently shed her coat and sweater, peeling her layers off to bring her temperature down to a more manageable level.

She moaned, her eyes wrenching shut even tighter, her face twisted in pain,

“My head…” She sighed, desperate for some relief.

“I know, love. C’mon,” John propped her up a bit, moving the rag so that the coldest parts would be against her skin, “What’s your name? I can find an address. Do you have your purse?”

“They… took it? I don’t… I dunno…” She muttered, obviously having a hard time stringing her thoughts together, “I don’t feel so good.”

This was not ideal. Price knew what came next. A high fever, exhaustion, fatigue, nausea, increased heart rate, and then…

“Alpha?” Her eyes were open, glassy and dark, the pupils fully blown, looking up at him with an outpouring of unfathomable need. Her scent rolled off of her in mind-altering waves, shoving Price’s carefully-built walls out of the way and sending shocks of desire straight to his heart and his fat, growing cock.

“No, baby. I’m not your Alpha. Who is he? Can you give me a name?” John asked, checking her coat pockets in a rushed panic. He was running out of time.

“Alpha, please… I need… Help me, please,” her shaking hands reached under his jacket and shirt, her knuckles rubbing against his furry belly, her strong fingers digging around for his belt buckle, getting right to the point.

Price felt the room flex around him, and he tried to breathe in air that wasn’t saturated by her vanilla spice, searching in the deepest recesses of his mind for some semblance of his self control.

“Easy, love. I can’t m–mmngh!” Her mouth slotted over his as he tried to protest, stopping his heart and his words at the same time.

She was heaven. Her smell was making his skin tingle all over his body, down his arms and up his legs, rushing to his central, sacral core. And her taste was even better. His little cinnamon roll, so sweet and warm, burning for him like a flame, hot and ready to scar him for life.

“Mngh… Love, mmm… Wait…” Price held her back, using more force than he thought he should need, surprised by her sudden power.

“John…” He met her eyes and found a particular clarity within them. She was coming out of her haze. But, it wouldn’t last. This was his final chance to keep her from doing something she would regret.

“Darlin’, I can’t. I’m not your Alpha.”

“You smell like you are,” she mewled, rubbing her wounded cheek across his engorged neck gland, spreading his scent all over herself.

“I can’t,” he moved away from her, trying to hold her in his arms for comfort rather than to bask in her expressive heat, “My work… I can’t leave you here, pretty girl.”

She sobbed out, trying to hold back from writhing against his body, doing everything she could not to make it harder for him to turn her down. Her eyes were rimmed red and pink from exhaustion, and she was staring down at her own hands, vibrating with tremors, slurring her words,

“Just lock me in the bath. I’ll run cold water. I’ll be fine…”

Something ancient and feral snarled in Price’s mind.

No.

“No,” he said, involuntarily, the voice in his head escaping from his throat.

“Please… I can’t stop myself… I want your knot, Alpha. Lock me up before I do something to you… Something you don’t want…” She could barely put two words together. Every thought was a struggle. He was losing her again.

He grabbed her and held her to his chest, clutching her like water in his palm, using all his strength to keep her with him,

“I want you, love. I want… Fuck, I need you.”

All of a sudden, the energy around their bodies stilled. That cracking, sparking electricity that bound them together was roiling just beyond John’s consciousness, ready to surge. But, he stayed perfectly still, waiting to see what she did next. She locked eyes with him and leaned in close, as if she would kiss him. But, she didn’t. She dipped her head down until she found his Alphic gland, swollen and bruised purple from him holding back his lust, nuzzling at it with the tip of her nose, rooting against him, testing his patience, checking to see if his temperament was true. Then, when he let her sniff him in his most potent spot, when she knew his soul was as pure as his scent, that he was true, she sucked his flesh between her lips, drawing his musk onto her tongue.

She’d accepted him. He reeled from it, unable to hold back a groan, his cock jerking against his zipper, thrashing to escape, flooding with hot blood and threatening to fill his knot before he’d even had a chance to taste her.

John pulled her mouth off of him and stared at her eyes again, in awe of her beauty, his mind swirling and yet perfectly sharp, begging her darkly,

“Give me your neck, Omega.”

The ritual had begun, and as she swept her hair away from her shoulder, pulling it around her back, she bent for him, arching her head down in a submissive bow, revealing her Omegan mating line. It looked like a keloid scar, the raised skin swollen and painful, like a pounding vein that ran from below her earlobe down to the top of her shoulder, full of her hormones and thick with her magic. One bite, and he would be in her thrall, pliant to her every whim, beholden to her needs until her heat had run its course.

Price had never given his bite to anyone. It had been easy to abstain. In fact, in his youth, he had a hard time understanding his mates’ commitments to their Omegas, scoffing at their lack of duty to their stations, doubting their commitment, and - moreover - doubting their loyalty. He remained a captain through and through, and he’d never made room for anyone or anything else. But, here he was, his teeth aching in his jaw, bigger and sharper than they should’ve been, his every sense heightened and taking her in like a drug, compelling him to punch through her delicate flesh and suck her nectar deep into his belly.

The feeling of her skin against his lips was enough to send a chill through his body. He was cooling from the inside out, and his body needed her heat. She was forcing a rut to take hold in him, and he could feel himself changing for her. Then, he bit down as hard as he could, breaking the thin seal of her mating line with ease, feeling the searing mixture of her oil and her blood filling his mouth and throat like a ripe plum, wet and sweet, and promising pleasure if he chose to swallow her.

He drank from her for as long as he dared, taking her in long, slurping gulps, letting her essence coat his throat, feeling the hot fluid burn inside of his chest and down into his stomach where it pooled and lingered, warming him up from the inside out.

“Alpha…” She moaned, raising her hand to cup his cheek as he sucked her life into himself, rubbing her thumb so softly over his shut eyelashes that he barely felt it.

John pulled away from her, his eyes fluttering open, her bright orange blood iridescent with her mating oil, making the red cells burn bright like a fresh-cracked yolk, gleaming, trapped between his teeth like gold. He watched it drip down her chest, staining her clothes, and he began to tear them off of her. She let him, limp and mute as he peeled her open, making her naked and pulling her into his arms.

He carried her into his bedroom, kicking open the door and busting the bolt through the strike, splintering the wood and not giving a shit about the damage. John lay her in the middle of the mattress and set to surrounding her with whatever softness he could find; his shirts, his blankets, even his scarves. Anything warm and comfortable was added to the nest, giving her as much support as he could before standing back to admire his work.

She eyed him from her recumbent throne, commanding him with her gaze. John stripped off his shirt for her, raking it up his back and over his shoulders, feeling as if he was moving his body for her and only for her. All of his motions, even his ragged breaths, were only escaping from his lungs because she wanted them to. His buckle clattered apart, and he popped open the button of his jeans, lowering the zipper in a sharp, metallic rip.

Once free, his heavy prick flagged, leaping forward and pulsating for her, proudly showing her his gleaming head. He was drooling an unrelenting stream of iridescent precome, his balls tight and full of Alphic oil, ready to coat her warm insides with his shining sex.

John climbed onto the bed, his face focused on her wet mound, admiring the plumpness of her, imagining her - in every delicious way - like a tender peach. He crawled to her, his mouth still stained neon orange from her gland, and he smeared her wet quim all over his lips and tongue. He wasn’t licking her so much as he was wearing her like warpaint, moving his nose and cheeks through her to ensure he was soaked in her heady slick, his body making wild, unbridled choices purely on instinct.

“Yes, baby, please…” Her voice went straight through him like a bullet, tightening his cockhead to an uncomfortable degree, and it jerked against the mattress in protest. Her hands were in his hair, scratching through his scalp, encouraging him to sink his tongue deep inside of her hole.

John obeyed, helpless to her desire, his mind wiping clean and being rewritten by her will. He was swimming in her scent, drenched in her slick, and gasping against her pussy, his eyes fixated on her form as it writhed above him. When she met his eyes, she bit the inside of her lip, crying out for him, rewarding him for his prostrated fealty. Then, she began to rock her hips against his jaw, fucking herself on his face, and he let her use him to her heart’s content, staying strong and sure, allowing his body to be used, objectified and glorified by it.

When she began to come, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. He followed his tongue inside of her with two of his thick fingers, pressing against her walls, pushing her over the edge. She bolted upright, wrapping her thighs around his face, smothering him with her body, trapping him breathless between her legs. Her whole being trembled for him. He could feel the shimmer of her very soul, rattling and writhing with her siren-like keening. And just when he started to see spots in his vision, needing air just a little less than he needed to please her, she lay open for him, blooming outward like a flower, releasing him from a limbo he longed to return to, oozing with a stream of rainbow-tinted come, the Omegan oil within her womb escaping to advertise its promises to her mate.

Without knowing why, John found himself lapping it up from her pulsing hole like a hound, swallowing mouthful after mouthful and grunting with each pass of his broad tongue.

“John, I need... Please, put your knot inside me. I’ll be good…” She begged, tears shining at the corners of her eyes from her come-drunk bliss, her hands plucking at her nipples and trying to soothe herself down from her high.

“My pretty girl wants this knot, yeah?” John grinned devilishly, dipping his finger into her over and over and licking it clean like she was a jar of endless honey, “Wants me to breed this gorgeous cunt…”

At that comment, she spread her legs even wider for him, opening up for him like a blossom for the sun, ready to take whatever he had to give her. It was mesmerizing for John to see her like this. Everything about her was filled with intoxication and need. He was just a vessel for her pleasure, pouring himself into her to make her full again. Dizzy and drunk with adoration, he notched his girth at her entrance, struggling to fit even his cockhead within her.

“Fuck… so bloody warm…”

Her body was burning him with every millimeter he sank into her, the heat of her tight sex in such high contrast with his cool rut. It felt like he was swimming in a roiling pot of sugary caramel, clinging and cloying and sticking to every part of him, and yet it was not enough. He needed more. His hips thrust forward, savage yet steady, reaching deep inside of her like an anchor, rushing to settle himself within her darkness.

The way his Omega cried out this time was different, and it snapped him to her attention, his mind immediately sensing a new need.

“Love, tell me what you need.” He purred, his mouth kissing her lips and her neck, lapping at the now-healing wound his own fangs had made, talking to her between long licks of his tongue, “Tell me, and it’s yours.”

“You’re so big. I’ve never…” She sounded ashamed.

Price slowed to a creeping pace, focused fully on her face,

“Never had a knot before?”

She shook her head, her eyes full of worry. John wrapped her up in his arms, dragging himself out of her slowly before filling her up again as carefully as he could.

“Tha’s alright, baby. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

“Feels like I’m burning alive,” she sighed, her brow furrowing with distress, “John, I need… I don’t know how…”

“Look at me, alright?” He helped her focus her eyes on his, “Don’t… Just stay with me, right here. You’re gonna come for me, and then… I’ll give you what you need.”

“Please,” she whimpered, her voice so small.

Price set himself on a path with a purpose. He used his hand to rub small, rhythmic circles beside the rigid body of her clit, coaxing her pussy to drop even more slick around him, using every ounce of willpower he had left not to let his knot slip inside of her prematurely. His thrusts were jerky and restrained, but he felt her begin to rock back and forth with his hand’s movements, bringing her closer and closer to her glowing joy.

“Good girl,” he praised her, watching her as she began to fall apart around him, “Tha’s my good little Omega. Come for your Alpha just like that. Just… mmf-fuck! Like that! Holy fuck.”

The feeling of her slick pussy clenching and twisting around his cock’s tugid body was enough to make him see stars. He felt almost sick with pleasure, his whole core lighting up like a roaring fire, spitting and aching to bury himself within her.

At the end of her crescendo, he felt himself let go of the chain, and he rutted his knot inside of her, humping himself forward ruthlessly, his body contorting itself to fit her needs. His knot sealed him within her, and although he was not yet orgasming, he was filling her with his come, the creamy flow of it spilling out of his tip, filling her hole and coating his prick from inside of its hungry little sheath.

“Your come… I can feel it inside of me. Oh, my God,” she sighed with some sort of relief, her eyes rolling inside of her head, her arms losing their strength, and her back arching towards him, lifting up as if she would float right into Heaven.

And just like that, her fever began to abate. With his knot stuffed inside of her, locking his seed within her hole, his Alphic oils could soothe her heat, bringing her back to the realm of consciousness and delivering her from her wild state.

“John,” she lay back, her hand pressed to his cheek.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he bent forward on his elbows and kissed her mouth, chastely at first, and then languidly, exploring her taste. When he did finally pull away, she was awake and alert, sated and happy. He smiled down at her,

“Hey, pretty girl,” he whispered, wiping her hair back from her face.

“Hey,” she smiled back at him, wrapping her ankles around his back for comfort, not knowing that it was just enough to set his cock on edge again, his Alphic instinct rejoicing at the feeling of being trapped by his mate.

“You alright?” John asked, a tinge of worry at the edge of his voice.

“I am now, thanks to you,” she sighed, tucking herself in beneath him, rubbing her hands along his ribs and the soft fur of his back and arms, feeling every bit of him as if she was seeing him with her touch, “You saved me, Alpha.”

“Aye,” he nudged her jaw with his nose, asking her wordlessly to give him the vulnerable softness of her neck. She obliged, and he spoke to her between sucking kisses, “All mine. My Omega. Innit that right, baby?”

She was practically lambent beneath the scrutiny of his possession, rolling in it like a wave in the sand, captured by it and surrendering to the riptide of his unbreakable grip. She nodded, humming her ascent, her expression turning a little rueful right at the end of his kisses. The sorrowful timbre of her voice broke his heart,

“I’m grateful. But, I know this isn’t what you wanted, and I’m so sor–”

“No,” he kissed her words away, feeling his length throb inside of her, urging him to kiss her again, “No, love.”

“I won’t bite you,” she promised, her gaze still full of apology, “You won’t be stuck with me.”

“Bite me, Omega,” he bent his head and buried his face in her shoulder, giving her his gland in total surrender, “Go on. I’m yours.”

“John…” She hesitated, but he could feel her body flood her hole, excited beyond measure at the thought of binding him to her as her mated Alpha.

“Go on,” he commanded in his smoky growl, holding her tighter and bracing for the ecstasy of her teeth.

He felt her lips first, and his balls tightened, ready to fling him into a messy orgasm as soon as he felt his gland shatter in her mouth. Her Omegan teeth wouldn’t break the skin, but he knew she was strong enough to crack the shell around his swollen node. The anticipation of her bite was wrecking his mind, and he was gasping for breath by the time he felt her jaw set itself against him.

“Baby, please…” He whined in her ear, his hips thrusting in short, jerking thrusts, unable to move much with his knot still trapped up inside of her, holding his gushing come in her hole, pushing it into her womb from the sheer volume of it.

Her teeth connected, and he could hear his unbroken shell give way beneath her strength, the hormones inside of it rushing through his system like wildfire, burning through his veins and making him scream for her. At the same time, John felt his core throw him into a raw orgasm, his whole body trembling above her, wringing himself from the inside out.

“Alpha,” she sighed, licking his neck to comfort him, “My Alpha…”

“Yours, baby. All yours.”

— — — — —

The new trainees filed out of the gym, sweaty, bloody, and eager to be out of the captain’s sight. Price had run them ragged, forcing them to spar with practice weapons, pitting them against each other in a strained, exhausting competition. Ghost and Soap sat with Gaz as they eyed their commander, their eyes glued to the fresh bite mark on his neck, shocked into a silent stupor.

“I cannae believe it. Mated? To which lassie?” Soap asked, dumbfounded.

“I didn’t think he’d ever take a mate,” Gaz marvelled.

“I thought he was savin’ himself for marriage,” Ghost quipped, earning himself a scuff from Soap.

Price made his way across the mat, pulling his sweaty shirt off his back to trade it for a clean one. The red welts and nail-marks across his shoulders and down his belly made Gaz let out a low whistle. But, his commander’s glare stopped him mid-note.

“Wha’s that, Garrick?”

“Nothin’, sir. Just… admirin’ your battle scars,” Gaz smiled, wishing his two teammates would stop snickering so loudly.

“Looks like a hell’uva fight, Cap,” Ghost added, looking everywhere but into Price’s icy eyes.

“Wha’s her name?” Soap asked outright, skipping over the double entendres and going right for the point.

Their captain sighed, zipped up his gym bag, and stood in front of his three officers, glaring down at them with a look that was on the border of dead-seriousness,

“If I told you that, lads, I’d have to kill you.”

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karolinethewitch · 3 months ago

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Astrology observations #4

Planets in the first house (sun, moon, mercury, all planets)

Natives with any celestial bodies in the first house of identity I feel either struggle to find who they are in this world or the opposite. These people have a strong sense of who they are seek Independence and don't like being told what to do. People with planets in the first house are either well-liked or disliked, except what matters is that you are beautiful, unique, and different and I think that's sexy and don't deny it you’re more important than how people perceive you.

Aquarius moon, Pisces moon, and Scorpio moon

Natives with Aquarius, Pisces and Scorpio moon I feel are the black sheep or the type of people who feels like they don't belong here on earth. The reason they feel this way is because of childhood trauma and how they were treated from a younger age. To heal from these wounds is cut out toxic people and situations that no longer serve you anymore, leave the past behind, and look forward to a new future you that isn't attached to your wounds and your past. You're greater than your wounds and I think you're stronger when you overcome your problems, obstacles or challenges.

The most emotional placements 😅

Okay, I notice something about people with certain placements and most of them are people with Pisces, Cancer, and Scorpio placements no matter if it's your big three or have stellium. I feel that these people may have hard time managing their emotions because they feel deeply. However, don't worry too much instead of drowning in your emotions and problems I suggest practicing mindfulness. Because it focuses on being in the present and accepting its human to feel, mindfulness is kind of like medicine but its for healing the spirit and the so. As Libra with moon and rising in Scorpio with moon in my first house, I am an empath and emotional person myself I feel deeply and I also get hangry and moody. However, this year I suddenly felt shift in my energy and I want to be in a good mood, although there will be times I'll be in a bad mood. Is any one of you people have Scorpio, Cancer or Pisces placements?

Gemini placements including sun, moon and rising

Is it just me? Or they are rays of sunshine? Natives with Gemini placements are cheerful, youthful, bookworm, and extremely intelligent if you don't resonate its okay just know that you're greater than your bad qualities. As humans I think our dark and good side exists for a reason because its part of who we are no matter how people thinks about us especially for people with Gemini placements. Geminis are great people to have in your life, and if you don't get along with them. Let me tell you they will be kind and sweet if you don't mistreat them unless they act the same to you. Just walk away or talk things out calmly.

Lets talk about the pussy felines—— one of my favorite zodiac signs Leos.

People with Leo placements are super well liked. I don't know how they get so much attention, popular and bro give me your tips and tricks give me a masterclass how to be like you. God dammit I love you. And also I noticed they have an appearance like a lion. So gorgeous. People with Leo placements are generous, loving, romantic, and kind individuals.

Your theme/word for 2025-2026

I came across an astrology tumblr post and was inspired to include one. Its not an observation, however I'm going to share it anyways. Look up your solar return chart using Astro if you're familiar with Astro. If you don't know how to use Astro please don't make me explain it because it's tedious to write everything out. Look up the instructions on how to get your birth chart on Astro.

When you have your solar return chart look at the first house. Every single year the rising will be in a different zodiac sign. In the first house of identity and the foundation of your life, look at the zodiac sign as the rising sign. Think about what the zodiac sign symbolizes and the themes or words will be for you this year.

Example: For me, I have my solar return ascendant in Cancer and with Jupiter on the first house the themes for this year is family, home, emotions, intuition, however with Jupiter sitting on my solar return ascendant in Cancer I strongly believe there will be a shift in my relationship with my finances, and I will be blessed with fortune, abundance or something more important than materialism like gratitude being grateful for everything I am already given in this life.

Share me what is your rising sign according to your solar return chart for 2025-2026?

If you came this far, thank you for reading.

#astrology #zodiac #zodiac signs #astrology observations

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ashwhowrites · 2 years ago

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Dad!eddie x pregnant mom!reader who is suffering with severe pregnancy brain and she forgets to do something important and Eddie gets upset with her, raises his voice a little. He just needs a second to cool down so he leaves the house and reader is just distraught with her hormones and when he comes back he doesn’t realize he left her so vulnerable and upset it really wasn’t a big fight so his heart is broken seeing her tears so he needs to make it up to her

LOVE the angst in this. I hope this is what you were hoping for and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting<3

Missed call

Y/N was just days away from going into labor. She waddled everywhere, constantly in pain, and had a bad case of pregnancy brain. She put soap in the fridge and butter in the shower, and Eddie had a good laugh about it. She spaced constantly on the laundry, piling up. She tried to get out of the fog, but she couldn't.

Eddie was patient and understanding of it. He found it adorable how she'd walk into the room and pout because she couldn't remember why. He tried his best to help her remember things, and help around the house.

Eddie was gone at a meeting as Y/N cleaned the kitchen. Her attention was cut short when the house phone rang, she moved as fast as she could.

"Hello, this is the Munson's, how can I help you?" Eddie's PR manager talked on the other line. Y/N wrote down the important message that had to be delivered to Eddie immediately. Y/N hung up the phone and tucked the piece of paper in her pocket. Eddie didn't get personal calls until lunch, so she had a few hours before she could call.

~~~

Eddie slammed the front door as he marched through the house. Y/N easily could tell he was upset as he sat on the couch, angrily throwing his shoes. She grabbed him a beer and sat next to him. He grabbed the beer as she softly played with his hair. He felt his body relaxing as he leaned against the couch.

"what's wrong?" She asked, her fingers massaging his head.

"Tracy bitched me out for missing a meeting for a late night talk show that I had no idea about! I tried to explain that i was unaware of it but she wouldn't give me a chance to fucking speak. " Eddie ranted, going on and on but Y/N felt the guilt in her bones. Her hand reached into her pocket, the piece of paper with the message she never called about.

"Um, babe?" She said quietly, Eddie hummed and looked at her. His hand was on her knee as he waited for her to speak.

"She called the house and told me. I wrote it all down! I just forgot to call you on your break. I'm sorry." Y/N apologized, handing him the crumpled piece of paper.

Eddie knew he shouldn't get upset at her, it was the pregnancy brain. But he missed a huge opportunity because of it.

"DAMMIT Y/N!" He groaned, getting off the couch, and ran his hand over his face. She jumped at his loud voice, sinking into the couch as he paced in front of her.

"WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS NOW?" he screamed, throwing the piece of paper on the floor. Y/N felt tears in her eyes as he shouted. He was shouting around her, not directly in her face but it almost felt like it.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, tears falling down her face as she tried to stand up. She struggled but made it to her feet. Reaching for his hands. She smiled through her tears when he allowed her to hold his hands. Her hands softly held his.

"This would have been a huge opportunity for me, Y/N." He wasn't yelling anymore but she knew he was still mad. His voice was stern and low.

"I know! It slipped my head, and I completely forgot." She explained. Eddie nodded as he took away his hands. She quickly tried to grab them again but he stepped back.

"I just need a second, okay?" He groaned, throwing on his shoes as he grabbed his keys.

"WAIT! Baby don't leave! Just come relax on the couch, I'll go to the room." She pleaded. But he kept walking towards the door.

"I said I need a second. Your pregnancy brain is out of control and it needs to be fixed" He snapped and slammed the door. Y/N covered her mouth as she sobbed. She always fucked everything up because of her pregnancy brain. It was always the little things but now she cost Eddie a huge opportunity in his career.

~~~

Eddie sighed as he rubbed his face. The loud bar filled his ears as he tried to calm down. He called a friend to come sit with him, he needed to vent but couldn't stand to watch his wife cry because of him.

"So let me get this straight, your PR manager called your house phone, instead of your personal cell to deliver this huge important message and left it with your wife. The wife that is like two days away from birth is suffering from pregnancy brain, and you yelled at her instead of your PR manager? The manager should have called you in the first place." Steve explained, a frown on his face.

"Son of a bitch," Eddie groaned, smacking his head against the bar counter. "You're right. God, I am like the biggest asshole, and easily the worst husband." The guilt ate him alive. It wasn't her fault, Tracy should have called him directly if it was such a huge deal.

"Go home and apologize, own up to it, and make her feel like she didn't mess up your career."

~~~

Eddie slowly walked into the house, the lights off as he looked around. He figured she must have gone to bed, another feeling of guilt knowing she struggled to make it up the stairs.

He sighed and walked into their bedroom, a light on near the bed and her laptop rested on her stomach as she slept.

Eddie stripped off his clothes and crawled into the bed, grabbing her laptop to shut it off. He scrunched his eyebrows as he read the article she was on.

"How to overcome pregnancy brain"

Eddie closed the laptop with a sad sigh, lying down as he wrapped his arm around her. Softly rubbing her swollen stomach as she slept. He kissed her head and whispered apologies in her ear.

He'd wait until the morning to talk it out with her.

~~~

Eddie yawned as he walked down the stairs, Y/N was already out of bed when he woke up. He could hear her on the phone, her voice trembling as she cried.

"No Tracy, please! It was all my fault. He didn't miss it or anything. I forgot to tell him. You have to set something new up, like just ca-" Eddie grabbed the phone from her hand and hung it up. Her wet eyes stared at him as she tried to grab the phone.

"EDDIE STOP!" she sobbed, choking on her tears as she tried to grab the phone, but he threw it across the counter.

He wrapped his arms around her as she cried into his chest. He held her tightly and kissed her forehead.

"It's okay, shh," he cooed, swinging them back and forth as he held her. "I'm not mad and I'm sorry for yelling. None of it was your fault, and it was wrong of me to blame you."

"No! I messed it up. I'm just so stupid and forget everything."

"You're not stupid!" He argued, holding her head to make her look at him. "You are having our baby, and you've been carrying her for nine months. You are amazing. Tracy never should have left the message with you and I shouldn't have acted the way I did. You have every right to be spacey. Nothing is wrong with that or you. I love you so much. Please don't cry because of me." He softly wiped away her tears and kissed her forehead.

"I love you too." She said, cuddling into his chest.

"Now how about we take a nice bath and eat pizza" Eddie suggested, knowing that was her favorite routine to do when she was upset.

Eddie laughed as she yanked herself out of his arms and headed for the bathroom.

A few more days until their family had a new member.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst to fluff #daddy eddie munson x mommy reader #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #ashwhowrites #dad eddie x mom reader

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