#big pupils big energy yes yes yes yes yes yes yes

[ilovemilestellersmoustache]

Baby Bear

Bob Reynolds x Thunderbolts!Reader

Summary: Bobs pretty sure the entire world knows he’s in love with you… well everyone except maybe you

WC: 2.5K

Thunderbolts HQ – Briefing Room

Y/N had a way of entering a room like she owned it.

She didn’t. Technically, Valentina did or maybe the U.S. government, or whatever shady agency had signed off on assembling a misfit team of reformed killers and walking catastrophes, but none of that mattered the moment she stepped through the door.

The energy shifted.

Like a pressure drop before a storm. Like every molecule in the air sat up a little straighter, paying attention.

Y/N dropped her guns onto the metal table like she was throwing down poker chips, their heavy ends clicking against the surface. Before walking towards the kitchen to find something to absolutely destroy.

The sound jolted him.

Bob blinked once. Then again.

She hadn’t even looked at him yet.

He’d seen her fight armies. He’d watched her slide down glass buildings, run across flaming wreckage and then ask for a mint afterward like it was a Tuesday morning.

She was fearless. Effortlessly confident, quiet dominance and honey slick sarcasm all wrapped up in someone who didn’t just walk into dangers, she made it look like a runway.

And she had no idea that Bob Reynolds, the Golden Guardian of Good, the one man on Earth who could wrestle planets and outrun light, forgot how to breathe whenever she was in the room.

Yelena Belova, seated beside him, noticed immediately.

She always did.

The blonde leaned back in her chair beside Bob with a barely suppressed smirk, elbow resting on the armrest, one boot kicking lazily in the air.

“You’re drooling again,” she whispered, lips barely moving.

Bob straightened, tugging the sleeves of his hoodie down over his wrists. “I’m not drooling,” he whispered back.

“Very charming. Very nonchalant, she doesnt suspect a thing when your pupils turn into hearts.”

John Finally chimes in across them, leaned forward, arms crossed and smug as ever. “Bobby, she’s placed some kind of love spell on you or what? You go all mushy and dumb when shes around.”

Bob glared at him. “You try staying calm around her.”

“Please,” Ava mutters, eyes skimming the mission files in front of her. “Remember last week? She asked him to pass a pen, and he stared at her like she’d just proposed to him in a foreign language.”

“Three minutes,” Bucky said from the shadows in the corner, arms folded, metal hand tapping his thigh. “I counted.”

Alexei gave a booming laugh from where he was sprawled on a nearby couch, half eating a granola bar like it was his last meal. “You all tease him, but I say let Robert feel things!! He is soft hearted. Like bear. Very big. Very powerful. Very… squishy.”

“I’m literally indestructible,” Bob muttered through gritted teeth.

“Yes, yes,” Alexei waved him off. “Physically. But emotionally? You are like bear and she is child who loves you. Like story where she eats bears food and you know sleep in bears bed, but Robert you cannot get her in your bed- Wait! no no no. You are like crying child and she is baby bear that makes child stop crying.”

Then, as if summoned by the sheer force of Bob’s rising internal panic, Y/N walks her way back in looking right at him.

“Hey Bob,” she said, voice low and smooth. She tilted her head slightly, lips quirking into a lazy half-smile. “You got a hair tie?”

Bob froze.

His brain arguably one of the most complex thing in existence crashed.

Hair tie. She asked for a hair tie. Words. Say words, idiot.

“Uh- yeah. Yes,” he stammered, fumbling into his hoodie pocket. “I always carry extras. Because, you know… uh… long hair. Wind. Physics.”

She smiled, this soft, devastating thing that punched straight through his solar plexus. “Alright… thanks.” She Giggled

Her fingers brushed his as she took the black hair tie. She tied her hair into a high, messy ponytail, strands falling like silk over the curve of her neck, then sauntered off toward the training wing.

Bob stared at her completely entranced mouth slightly opened.

Yelena gave him a slow, pitying pat on the shoulder. “You poor, poor boy.”

Bob didn’t reply.

Mostly because his heart was beating somewhere around the edge of the universe and his entire body felt like it was trying to go supernova.

⸻

Thunderbolts HQ – Game Room

The downtime between missions was dangerous for one reason: the team got bored. And when the Thunderbolts got bored, anything can happen.

So, naturally, a storm of chaos had descended on their shared Game room. Alexei had rigged the speakers to play a playlist titled “Avengerz Promo Sponsor Party Mix”

John commandeered the liquor cabinet, and Yelena drunk on three Moscow Mules and pure chaos declared, “Truth or Dare. No cowards. No skipping. No secrets.”

Bob Reynolds had made the mistake of entering the room three minutes too late.

He saw the bottle in the center of the circle. The shit eating grins. The glint in Yelena’s eye.

He tried to retreat.

“Nope,” she said, catching him by the sleeve like a hawk snagging prey. “You’re glowing like a guilty conscience. Sit down, loverboy. Time to be emotionally violated for entertainment.”

“I’d really rather not—”

“Sit.”

Bob sat.

The circle was complete: Yelena, John, Ava, Bucky, Alexei with a martini in one hand and a sandwich in the other and Y/N, sprawled across a beanbag chair, legs crossed, sipping a fizzy drink.

It was John who spun the bottle. It clinked around like a grenade waiting to explode and landed on Bob.

“Oh no,” he mumbled.

“Oh yes,” Yelena purred, eyes lighting up like Christmas. “Truth: Have you ever had a very obvious, glowing, borderline worshipful crush on anyone in this room?”

Bob blinked. Then again. “I—I mean—define ‘worshipful’—”

“Oh my god,” Ava groaned, facepalming. “Just admit you’re in love with Y/N and we can all move on with our lives.”

Y/N, who had just popped a piece of candy in her mouth, blinked. “Wait, what?”

Bob looked like someone had unplugged his brain mid thought.

“You guys think Bob likes me?” she said, the laugh bubbling out of her like it was the most ridiculous concept she’d ever heard. “Why?”

Everyone groaned like it physically hurt.

“Why?” Yelena repeated, throwing her hands up. “Because he goes full blabbering when you walk into a room. Because he stares at you like you’re the damn moon during an eclipse. Because he carries extra hair ties like he’s your personal assistant-slash-devotee. And don’t get me started on the poetry—”

“I do not write poetry—” Bob cut in quickly, face now the color of Alexei’s suit.

“Yes, you do,” John said flatly, sipping a beer. “I read it. It’s in your dumb little notebook. You rhymed ‘dagger’ with ‘swagger’ and compared her to fire and divine judgment.”

Bob buried his face in his hands. “This is actual torture.”

Bucky, already drunk out of his mind laughed so hard he nearly choked on his drink.

Y/N, meanwhile, was still staring at Bob like he was a jigsaw puzzle she’d finally realized was a love letter. She didn’t look embarrassed. Just… quietly stunned.

“Huh,” she said at last.

“Huh?” Yelena echoed in horror. “That’s it?”

Y/N turned her full attention to Bob. “That’s kind of sweet, actually.”

Bob looked up through his fingers, stunned. “It is?”

“Yeah.” She smiled at him genuine, unguarded. “I always thought you were cute. Didn’t know you felt the same.”

His jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

“I thought you weren’t a fan of me that much. Or, you know… had some secret laser vision so you couldn’t look me in the eyes ever.”

Bob blinked slowly, like someone was rebooting his system.

Y/N shrugged, leaning forward now, elbows on her knees. “Guess we’re both a little oblivious.”

Yelena made a strangled noise in the back of her throat. “What?! That’s it?! No dramatic kiss? No screaming ‘finally’ and falling into each other’s arms? What kind of slow burn payoff is this?!”

Y/N rolled her eyes with a grin, stood up, and stretched like a cat. “Sorry to disappoint, Belova.”

She turned to Bob, tossed one of her hands to him like a casually flirty peace offering. “Come on, Golden Boy. Let’s go spar. You can glow at me while I kick your ass.”

He caught it barely and stood, grinning like an idiot. “Only if you go easy on me.”

“Never.”

As they walked out, shoulder to shoulder, Bob practically levitating with joy, the rest of the room watched them go with varying degrees of amusement and disbelief.

Alexei raised his glass. “Look at my baby bear and my crying not so much crying now child.”

“Glad that’s out now, don’t know how much more yearning I could read about, but you do know they’re gonna be all gross and disgusting now right?” John added, taking a long sip.

Yelena stared at the door, still stunned. “Better then having to watch Bob sulk every day, you know what… Someone write this down. We made actual emotional progress today.”

Ava sighed. “I give them two weeks before we catch them together doing it somewhere crazy.”

Everyone nodded solemnly.

It wasn’t 2 weeks. It was 10 minutes after.

⸻

A/N: TOWER FICS ARE SOOOOOOO BACK

please comment more ideas!!

[buckyalpine]

i feel like bucky definitely gives off like horny teenage vibes but times that by ten. like maybe y/n and bucky finally get together after the whole “will they won’t situation” and the minute bucky sleeps with y/n i feel like since he’s been so touched starved for like 70+ years that he’s like the most insatiable, kinkiest man y/n has ever been with , he’s touchy, he’s needy (in the best way possible) and all of the avengers are like “i’m glad you’re happy bro but put your dick away and get your hands out of your pants” and then he’s like “no”

18+ All the incoming smut. I need a cold shower wtf, this is so hot, is this even allowed? The answer is YES. yes it is. Bucky gives 10000% horny teenage energy and with that serum in his veins?

The will they won't they situation drives Bucky insane because it's gone on for long enough. He's been pining after you, too shy to actually spit it out, taking what he can get in those feeling moments you share. Lingering touches during training. Longing stares across the room. Late night talks where you're both too close to be just friends but you're not quite anything more either.

Bucky airs on the side of caution when it comes to you until he sees another man trying to get your attention from where he's seated at the bar. He's spent enough nights alone with his hand between his legs, tugging and pawing at his cock for some type of relief, surges of jealousy absolutely crush those feelings of shyness he had. By the end of the night, he has you naked in bed and he's ready to take you apart every which way but you're just too fucking pretty and he realizes he needs to be touched more than ever.

Bucky is the neediest baby on the planet, he's greedy, trying to touch every bit of you all at once. He doesn't have time to feel shame, to try and act like this is something he does on the regular. Honestly, he doesn't care that he's practically humping you like a little puppy, his hips rocking against your bare cunt, cock perfectly slotted between your folds.

"It's so fuckin' hard, angel" He moans against your neck, one hand squeezing your waist, the other reaching up you to tug your nipples. "My cock is so fuckin' hard cause of you"

He hasn't felt anything this soft in years and he's putty in your hands. He feels so sensitive all over, letting you push him onto his back so you can kneel between his thighs, your mouth so dangerously close to where he needed you so bad.

"Wait-wai-oh God, fuckkk meee" Bucky's head is thrown back with the deepest groan when you take his flushed tip into your mouth, dribbles of precum wetting your already silky tongue. He nearly shoots when you pull off with a pop and dip down to play with his sac, your warm mouth so much different from his hand.

"Oh my god my balls are so fuckin' heavy, yeah just like that baby, never had em' sucked before, fuck I- m'cumming!" His back arches and he has to careful not to clamp his legs shut as he starts to cum without warning. His hips thrust up against the air and his hands rush down to hold onto your head as he practically rubs his balls against you.

"Let's empty your cock, baby" You coo when his orgasm starts to slow, your hand coming up to wrap around his now semi hard cock. Your slow strokes cause spurts to dribble out and he starts to get harder against your palm.

"Shit, m'getting hard again baby, put it in your pussy, c'mon please angel, wanna feel it, it's been so long" Bucky's always considered himself a dominant man but that was until it came to you. He was definitely going to redeem himself but not tonight. Tonight he was just a needy slut for you and he was going to own every bit of it.

He spreads apart his thighs more for you to see how big and hard he is, not like you didn't know. He's pouting with those flushed cheeks, pupils blown, pawing at your body to get on top.

"Can I suck your boobs, wanna suck em' so bad, fuck-c'mere, put your nipples in my mouth angel, feed me those perfect breasts with my cock in you"

"Ready Jamie?-

"Yeah, yeah please, m'ready I promise, I'll be good, my balls are full again, feel them, please, wanna empty my cock" You hush his needy whines, reaching behind and cupping his sack with a smirk on your face.

"S'full again baby?"

"So full" He nods, his jaw falling slack when you start to sink down on him, chest heaving, how the fuck was he already ready to blow, there was no way-

"FUCKKKK" He cried out, shoving his hips up so he was stuffed all the way, pulling you down and rolling over, giving you sloppy thrusts while cum spilled from his sensitive head.

"Don't even think I came this fast the first time I touched myself" Bucky mumbles against your neck, practically purring while basking in the best post orgasm haze he's ever felt. He loves the smell of raw sex filling the room, your combined arousal the best thing on the planet. He's not ashamed from cumming multiple times, hardly lasting, making such a sticky mess on the bed.

He's too busy getting in all his needy cuddles while you baby him like he deserves, kissing his forehead and rubbing his back, cooing at the way he hugs you extra tight.

But it doesn't stop there.

Bucky is insatiable and after finally getting a taste, he's not going to stop now.

"For fucks sake Barnes" Sam shakes his head seeing Bucky make out with you while your perched on the kitchen island, the sight sort of wholesome except he can see the way the soldier is slotted between your thighs. Your legs wrap around him and Bucky's hips are rutting against your core, shamelessly trying to hump you, barely muffled groans slipping past his lips. If rubbing his dick on you was all he could get, then he'd fuckin' take it without a question.

It wouldn't be the first time.

You'd been caught more than once in the middle of missions. Bucky knew he was down bad when he was injured once and forced to just keep surveillance over a mission you were leading. He was watching everything on a large screen, lasting all of 5 minutes watching you in combat unless he couldn't handle the ache between his legs anymore. At first he hid what he was doing pretty well.

Then you sliced someone's neck and-

"Oh fuck me!"

"You better be shot, stabbed or missing an eyeball" Sam hissed through the coms while Tony's cackled crackled through, everyone's frequency synced to keep in contact.

"Sounds like he's the one whose about to shoot-

"FUCK BOTH OF YOU"

"MMPH" Bucky didn't bother responding, continuing to jerk his cock off while watching his gorgeous girlfriend.

"I know you're happy with y/n, and I'm happy for you both, trust me, but for the love of God can you please get your hand out of your pants?!"

The muffled groan that follows has Sam contemplating letting his wings fall off mid flight. Steve nearly gets stabbed with how distracted he is.

-

"Does Barnes every put his dick away?" Clint snorts hearing the muffled sounds of the bed hitting the wall from Bucky's room and seeing as you're nowhere to be found, it's clear what's happening.

"No. No he does not"

[xazse]

Hiiii!! ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡

I just wanna see say that first of all that I LOVE UR works! I literally SCREAM when I see ur works they're so good!!!! 🫶🫶🫶

Anyways I wanna share my thoughts with you if that's fine (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

I just watched a cute cat video with a tom cat meeting his kittens for the first time and I just thought what if it was Tiger hybrid!Sukuna meeting his cub, Yuji! (With a tiger hybrid reader too)

At first he'd be like growling and looking annoyed at the sight of Yuji cause I heard that's how usually male tigers respond to their offsprings (and they usually don't help raise or look after cubs), maybe pushing him away too (but not enough to hurt cause he somewhat cares kinda). But over time he starts getting attached to little cub, mainly cause reader forces Tiger hybrid!Sukuna to spend time with their cub. And he'd act annoyed but deep down he actually bonds with the little cub, ah its so cute!

(btw not forcing u to write or anything just sharing my recent hyper fixations (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡)

No the Peakness in this needs to be studied, sorry I haven’t been uploading I’ve been in a block so I hope y’all enjoy this! Thanks for leaving the request!!! Just something sweet and short to tide you lovelies over. PLUS THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS SO SWEET!!

Warnings: Tigerhybrid!Sukuna + TigerHybrid!Yuji + Tigerhybrid!Reader + baby!yuji + big ol tiger family + not proofread

“Kuna stop it!”

“You’re scaring him with your loud growling, stop it.”

“He isn’t scared stop overthinking it, plus I’ve already told you I don’t want em near me.”

For such a huge scary Tiger like Sukuna he sure was giving off childish energy right now. Everytime little Yuji crawls to get close he’s pushed back right where he started. He doesn’t even seem to care that he’s growling and clearly not happy.

He’s so distracted and infatuated with Sukunas tail that flows back and forth, greedy little eyes looking for something to bite probably.

“I wish you’d stop treating him like a stranger he’s our baby.” You cross your arms and go to pick up Yuji, he eagerly has his chubby little arms out for you to coddle him, how can Sukuna just not find him so adoreable?

A loud huff of air comes out of him his tail whisking angrily behind him, you see the glint of sweet in his pupils it’s just a facade he needs help getting over.

And getting over it will happen.

It starts with baby steps at first, you pretending to need to make Yuji a bottle before he gets fussy, so you quickly plop him in Sukunas lap, he has no time to process or tell you to get him. He has no choice but to let Yuji curiously grab all over his face.

Sukuna thinks Yuji is too soft to be his, he should at least have a backbone at his age but he mainly blames you, you’re far too kind for someone of his own species, Tigers are meant to be fierce but he isn’t getting a hint of that from either of you.

Sukuna is holding Yuji awkwardly, arms outstretched and holding him in the air away from his body. The cutie is babbling and giggling about nonsense. Sukuna pulls him in a little bit closer and he immediately starts sucking on his cheek, encasing the whole thing, Sukuna is quick to act disgusted and pull him away.

You come shortly back with the bottle and also plop it down in his lap.

“No”

“Yes.”

“Kuna, please I’m extremely tired and need a quick break.”

You flash him your sweetest eyes and even pull your fluffy ears backwards, you really strike his heart everytime you do that so he grumbly obliges to watch Yuji.

Whilst you’re in the room he begins feeding Yuji, everytime he so much as rests his arm Yuji is whining for the bottle.

“Can’t even move an inch can I?” He straightens up and fixes himself. Sukuna can’t help but poke at his little inflated cheeks, filled with warm milk he looks so content gobbling it up.

He really looks like him even has the same patterned tail and tiny fluffy ears.

When he finishes the bottle he isn’t sure what to do besides letting Yuji relax on his chest and watch something, the baby Tiger is slowly drifting off his soft coos slowly fading.

This is okay just for a little, only until you rest up, he won’t have his wife walking around tired then he’ll throw the brat back in your lap.

But that doesn’t happen, it’s becoming an everyday thing where he feeds Yuji then they both drift off on the couch, it’s like this over and over.

Sukuna finds himself searching for Yuji in your arms then taking him to do the most random tasks with him laid awkwardly on his side. He still doesn’t know how to hold his own son properly but you’re so ecstatic.

You catch Sukuna helping Yuji build his building blocks up, then when Yuji knocks them down and is about to cry he’ll quickly build the tower back up in reassurance. You can see his tail swirl around when Yuji looks up to his daddy to help him.

On nights where Yuji is crying out for you, you’d usually get up to go comfort him but it’s Sukuna who jumps up faster than you to go tend to him. The room goes quiet within 10 minutes.

Sukuna won’t say it out loud but baby Yuji is starting to grow on him!!<33

[dutchiepoo2]

How it Should've Been

Arthur x Fem!Reader

hi, this is me working through my issues! please read the content warnings, dearest -Jelly

cw: nsft intro, unhealthy attitudes surrounding sex, intimacy issues, references to past sexual trauma (no detail) and responses/emotional flashbacks relating to said non-detailed trauma, angsty with a not-happy ending

uses she/her pronouns & she has a pussaaaaayyyyyyyyy

i couldn't figure out how to end it so it's shit oops!! 2.5k words. mdni.

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Finally, they'd gotten a moment of peace. After weeks of high tensions within camp, and then Arthur being away, finally, they had time alone. Arthur had been wanting her for ages, and vice versa.

Now, they had a moment to get away. The chaos had calmed down a bit, and Pearson had been hounding Arthur to go out hunting. He figured he'd kill two birds with one stone and take his lover along with him.

Yes, it was a hunting trip, but they weren't doing much hunting. Arthur knew of an old, abandoned cabin that wasn't too decrepit. He knew it wasn't exactly romantic, and to some, might have been down right disgusting. Next time, he swore, he'd take her to a nice hotel and buy her a hot meal first. He'd slide his hands over her shoulders and kiss her reverently between declarations of her beauty, of his appreciation. He'd make sure she was relaxed and comfortable and take her how she should be taken.

But, that was for next time. Both of them were far too pent up for something as sweet as that. Arthur was frustrated with how busy he'd been lately, and he just desperately wanted a release. She was just plain frustrated she couldn't have him. There had been too many mornings spent quietly grinding against each other, too many sneaky wandering hands at the camp fire. They were craving each other, plain and simple.

And so, within ten minutes of Arthur laying his tent canvas over the old, dusty bed, he was inside her. This was unusual in the sense that Arthur typically took his sweet time. He was big, and he knew it, so he almost always spent ages stretching his lover open, getting her worked up enough until she's dripping, pulsing—past the point of ample preparation.

But that's not what happened today. Today, she was already wet and eager, kissing him hard and gripping at his suspenders. He was a starved man, so he laid into her with the same passion and then some.

First, he had her bent over that creaky old cot, his hands running along her waist and petting at the soft skin of her back. There was an undeniable power behind each thrust that had her singing praise and gripping hard onto the canvas blanket. He fucked into her like that for a while, just to get some of their energy out, until he decided he needed to see her face and maneuvered her onto her back.

Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he crawled over her, grunting and growling against the crook of her neck. The humidity of the summer air did little to ruin the moment, instead encouraging a shine to form over his body, little droplets of it rolling down Arthur's nose. She licked at his neck between staccatto'd pants, addicted to the taste of salt on his skin.

Then, her head was thrown back, spine arching to meet each thrust as best as she could with his weight on her. She was so full, more than normal it seemed, so needy for more. It was like he was scratching an itch she couldn't reach, no matter how many times she'd shoved herself full of her fingers on the nights he was away. Nothing could compare to this, she thought, as he ground down against her clit.

The prettiest noise Arthur ever heard escaped her throat, and he knew he needed more. Suddenly his weight was gone, and he was standing above her, collecting her legs and folding them against her chest.

"Want me like this?" He rasped, gaze intense and pupils blown.

As their eyes met, she felt his cock twitch inside her, relaying just how desperate he was behind his tough guy facade. Her cunt fluttered around him before she could answer verbally, but she gave an eager nod either way.

His next thrust punched the air from her lungs, her mouth falling open and hands flying to his wrists. A high, flighty gasp escaped her throat, trailing off into a shuddering hum of approval.

Again, and again, and again, he thrusted hard into her like that, slowly descending his weight down onto her. Again... and again... and—

A sharp pain radiated across her abdomen, her eyes flying open and her nails gripping tight against his skin. She yelped and reflexively tried to jump back, but Arthur held her in place as he extracted himself from her.

"Sorry—" he puffed, cradling her face immediately as he leaned over her. "You okay, girl? Too much?"

The pain wore off almost immediately, the only proof of its existence the small tremble in her thighs. She forced herself to relax, embarrassment bubbling up her chest.

"'M okay," she mumbled, leaning into his hand. "Keep going?"

Arthur breathed out in relief, leaning down to this time to press his lips to her crown. His grip on the back of her thighs loosened, letting her maneuver them as needed. He slid back into her, carefully, gently.

This time, he moved at a much slower, shallower pace, watching her face intently. His concern won over his lust for the moment. He just wanted his lover to feel comfortable, pleasured. His pace only picked back up when he felt the tension begin to melt from her thighs, and he could tell from her noises and expression that she was obviously feeling good again.

It didn't last long, though, before he pushed too hard or too deep or something, somewhere, and she jumped again. She'd been more prepared this time, so her pained reaction was much smaller, more subtle. Either way, Arthur noticed, of course he did, and paused.

"Okay?" He asked, disquiet evident on his face.

She nodded quickly, her cheeks flushing red.

"Yeah, sorry. Just... maybe this position...? I don't know..."

A deep sigh puffed across her bare chest, and she swallowed thickly, worried that she'd annoyed him. He released her legs and let them wrap back around his hips.

"Here," he mumbled, patting her calf. "You seemed to like this one earlier, yeah?"

Would he stop if she asked...?

She agreed, holding her breath. Silence. Why was she nervous? He'd obviously not meant to hurt her.

"Y'gonna tell me if you're hurting?" He scolded softly. His big fingers carded through her sweaty hair.

Right. Of course he would.

Again, she nodded, feeling awkward and embarrassed and annoyed that she was even hurting in the first place. They'd been having a good time. Her teeth grabbed at her lip, and she stared up at the cobwebs on the ceiling. Suddenly all she could smell was the musty, moldy smell of the old cabin, and any remaining arousal she was feeling drained from her body.

Arthur called her name gently, bringing her attention back to him.

"What'chu want, sweetheart," he asked gently, petting her ribcage with his thumb. "Anything you want."

What she wanted was to get out of this cabin. But she didn't want Arthur to be disappointed in her, or mad, or frustrated that he couldn't finish during the first time they'd had sex in weeks.

A few more minutes wouldn't kill her. She could do it, for Arthur.

Her hips rolled against his, hands pulling his shoulders down so she could hide her face in his neck. She knew how to fake it well enough.

"More," she breathed against his heated skin, "Take me."

Would he stop if she asked...?

Why couldn't she ask?

Arthur huffed, but began moving again, still heartbreaking-ly gentle. A soft noise escaped her lips, and she continued rocking her hips against his, encouraging him to speed up, to use her.

It did still feel good, physically, with his pubic bone grinding against her clit and her body stretched taut around his girth, but all she could focus on was how much she wanted to go home to her own tent, how hot it was in here, how bad it smelled, the sound of the single fly buzzing at the window.

She loved Arthur, so why was this suddenly so difficult? Why couldn't she do this for him?

He picked up the force of his thrusts, still going slow but getting stronger, snappier. That's usually how she liked it, so why was she so tense? Either way, she moaned into his ear and gripped him tight with her legs, despite her belly beginning to ache again.

Then he changed his angle minutely, and there was that sudden, radiating pain again. Her breath caught, but he seemed to think that was a good reaction, an honest mistake, because he did it again, and again, and again, and harder, and harder, and he started groaning again like he was close.

She could bear it until he finished. It wasn't that bad.

A few more seconds. Just a few more. Just—

Would he stop if she asked?

All her muscles went rigid, and she burst into tears, hands flying up to her face. Dread flooded her system, crushing all the trust she had in herself in an instant.

"Shit!" Arthur barked, as he flew back, startled by her outburst. "Shit... What's wrong?! Look at me, girl. What hurts?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head, shame stealing her voice and forcing her still. Despite the summer heat, her skin rippled with a chill, a cruel reminder of the fact that she was stark naked and crying, legs still lifted awkwardly in the air.

Silence. Long, humiliating silence as she slowly curled around herself like a dying insect, quickly retreating into her own mind.

Arthur's big, calloused hands attempted to smooth out her messied hair. He called her name again and settled on his knees next to her.

"What happened, sweetheart?" He asked in a voice softer than she'd ever heard before.

Her chest rose in a short, stuttering breath, escaping her throat as a weak apology. When her eyes finally cracked open again, she immediately recognized Arthur as her love, and reached her arms out to him with wide, begging eyes, a pitiful, wet gasp. He didn't hesitate, and cradled her tight against his chest.

Worried and put off by her apologies, Arthur chose not to speak. He didn't think she seemed able to give him any answers right now, so he just held her.

And boy, did he feel like a right bastard. Nausea burned at the pit of his stomach as he considered what just happened. Did he hurt her? Scare her? She'd seemed into it. His eyes wandered down to where they'd been connected, searching her thighs and his now limp dick for any traces of blood or answers. Nothing.

He didn't spend much time getting her warmed up, he realized. Did he push her too fast? He'd have gone down on her if he'd known, would've had her come on his fingers until he knew she was ready. She had just seemed so eager.

He could feel her trying to calm herself down. Shaky sounding, hot puffs of air brushed against his stomach, her face buried in his chest, fingers clutching at his skin. Strong arms wrapped around her, a broad palm smoothed up her spine. He forced himself to be steady, despite the dread building in his gut.

In the tiniest voice he ever heard, she apologized again, directly over his heart. It clicked then, and Arthur's chest collapsed as the pieces fell together.

Oh.

Pieces of conversations past echoed in his skull, about no-name men and their sins. Memories of how she'd shy away in the beginning of their relationship when he came on too strong, even though he'd always been a gentle, gentle lover. Strange bouts of insomnia and poor sleep that always seemed to align with nights they'd indulged in each other more passionately than was typical.

Shit.

His nose pressed into his lover's hairline, his blood turning to ice. Amidst his onset of guilt, cradled in Arthurs arms, she was beginning to come back to the world. His familiar embrace, smell, brought a comfort she could never describe.

The anxiety fizzled out into emptiness as the minutes ticked by, and eventually, she was still. Awake, but still, half missing from her body. Arthur, meanwhile, was buzzing with energy.

He pulled back, searching her face, zeroing in on the tear tracks drying against her cheeks. He felt sick at the way she peered up at him, eyes wide and owlish.

To her fuzzy brain, it felt like a year that they stared at each other, resting together in that old, gross cabin. He broke the silence.

"What happened, sweet girl," he whispered, voice thick. "I hurt ya?"

It took a lot of time for her to process the question. She supposed it was true, but it didn't feel true. She made him hurt her. She let him believe she was having fun. God, why did she do that? She wanted him to enjoy himself.

Her expression began to crumble as she shook her head, no, emphatically. It wasn't his fault. She didn't want him thinking that.

Arthur sighed deeply, not convinced in the slightest, but willing to put it aside for the moment. His thumb brushed against her cheek, eyes soft.

"You forget it was me?"

That didn't feel true, either. She knew it was Arthur, and she realized with a sinking feeling that he knew. What would he think, if he thought she saw him as some sort of... that kind of man? She knew he frequently felt like a monster already. She'd put so much effort into building him up. What would it do to him if he thought she was afraid of him?

No.

She forced it down. She'd protect him from this ugliness that made her question him. What was she thinking? Of course he would stop if she asked. He always did. Usually, he'd stop before she'd even get to asking.

"No," she croaked. "Just... I don't know what happened, Arthur. I'm sorry."

He wouldn't let it go, though.

"You gotta tell me if it hurts, little girl," he chided gently. "I don't wanna hurt'cha. Don't matter to me if we gotta call it. You know th—"

"Can you get my clothes?" She interjected, eyes glassy again. It was too much. "Please?"

Arthur's jaw went rigid in frustration. Guilt, shame, annoyance. With a kiss to her forehead, he separated himself from her body and sat up to search for her layers.

The moment had passed. She'd shut him down in fear of hurting him, and he was losing patience by trying to figure out what he did wrong.

Slowly, gently, he helped her dress back up. Arthur helped her return to modesty, and only then began dressing himself. She sat motionless on the edge of the cot, watching him with a little frown.

They watched each other, distantly, carefully. This was unusual, unsettling.

He didn't blame her. She didn't blame him.

He wondered if she trusted him. She wondered if he'd forgive her.

He beat himself up for not noticing. She beat herself up for not holding out.

Arthur hated that, maybe, he unintentionally reminded her of something so awful. She hated that her body couldn't react to anything else, especially with someone she trusted with her life.

Neither uttered a word.

When Arthur was clothed, she reached out to him again, seeking the solace she'd found earlier when he'd brought her back to her body. They wrapped around each other, murmuring apologies and declarations of love, each touch and each whisper poisoned by guilt.

Next time would be different, for sure.

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Gooigi (again)

Debut: Luigi's Mansion (3DS)

When I was playing Luigi's Mansion 3 for the first time, I was thinking, "I sure love Gooigi. I wish I could write a Weird Mario Enemies post on him, but we already have one..." but I now realize! That post was written before the release of 3! We had no idea! No idea.

Who is the Mario character with the most fleshed-out backstory? Is it Mario, with his monolithic catalogue of media appearances? No, the insight we get into his past is simplistic at most. Is it Rosalina, with her beloved storybook? She comes close, I will admit, but there is someone who comes closer! Can you guess who it is? Can you guess the character I am hyping up in the post with a big image of Gooigi at its forefront? Yes, you can! It's Gooigi.

Indeed, Gooigi has seven entire pages of lore from the official website, written from the perspective of E. Gadd himself, explaining his origins, how he does what he does, WHY he does what he does, everything! You can read it here, and I'm not going to waste time repeating what was already said. I will just paraphrase: Goo is made from coffee mixed with ghost energy. Gooigi is the result of Luigi's digital data being zapped into it for a default form. Gooigi was sent back in time to Luigi's Mansion 1 for training and research purposes, and is now stored in a canister in the Poltergust G-00.

Got it? Good. Here is Baby Gooigi. How precious! Back before he had any Luigi in him at all. This is Goo in a human-shaped mold, and you may notice the mold itself has no face. Baby Gooigi learned how to express agony all on his own! It's no wonder they took a photo of this milestone!

Now with Super Mario Bros. Wonder, we have TWO gelatinous Luigis to choose from. And why not both? Gooigi is a separate entity, so Gooigi and Wubba Luigi can coexist! But not always... when playing Luigi's Mansion 3 single player, Luigi and Gooigi must be controlled separately. Luigi is able to will his consciousness into the doppelgangreener to control its movements, and it's here that it gets extra weird! Weird to the point that this game basically has multiple possible continuities?

Gooigi is NOT scared of ghosts, at all! He is an anomaly to them! This is very much "distinct character" behavior. But how is this the case if Luigi wills his soul into Gooigi? Well, both concepts are kind of true at the same time! As we can see here, cutscenes will actually change depending on if the game is in single-player or co-op play, portraying different events! Really really weird! It's like if Schroedinger's Cat was a pair of funny green men, one with bones and organs, and one translucent. So what is the truth...? (Spoilers for Luigi's Mansion 3 ahead...)

In the ending, even in single-player mode, Gooigi is portrayed as his own sentient character! Even though this contradicts the "consciousness transfer" lore, I think this is the "true" intention for him. It's much more fun and less awkward if he can be active at the same time as Luigi! I also don’t think they care that much about minor gameplay features being lore-compliant, since Polterpup got pupils in the end of the second game, and those were removed in 3 without explanation.

Unfortunately, as the hotel crumbles after King Boo's defeat, Gooigi falls from the top floor and dies.

He even says "bye-bye" before the fall. I can't believe this. How could Nintendo allow something so upsetting? They thought it was okay to let Gooigi say "bye-bye" rather than "goo-dbye"? That has "goo" in it! It would have been perfect. (I am not actually upset by this at all and "bye-bye" is more in character)

After splattering on the pavement he reforms, because duh. He's goo. You can test this for yourself! Scoop a glob of mayonnaise out of the jar with your hand. Next, travel to the top of a skyscraper. Finally, drop the mayonnaise off of the side! When it hits the ground, it will not have died. Science Fact!

As silly it may be, I was a bit worried Gooigi might die for real, even though that wouldn't make any sense to happen. I was just thinking of modern Paper Mario, introducing new buddies only to take them away by the end. But I should have known that Luigi's Mansion is not at all like that! This is the series where they gave Luigi a dog, and that was that. We don't see Polterpup as often as we should, but it cannot be argued! Luigi has a dog. What would stop them from keeping Gooigi around? Nothing, that's what! He stays with E. Gadd, and is not going anywhere!

Just like Polterpup, I would love to see Gooigi more, though. I would love for him to be Luigi's answer to Metal Mario! Gooigi driving a kart! I don't care that he dies in water, and I don't think Nintendo would care too much either. I would like to leave you off with The Big Question. This is a new, distinct character, who is "genetically" similar to Luigi. As such.

[immaterial-vivi]

a royal awakening :3

Oh, hello. Hi~ 

You're finally awake, I was starting to get worried. Well, not really, the vets helping the fishing trips — you know… No, you don't. Never mind. Anyway. The vets here are all really smart and careful and good at their job. I didn't actually doubt them for a second. I'm just impatient, it's such a big day for both of us! Aren't you excited?!

Oh, don't look at me like that. And you don't have to struggle that hard, struggling is over. Forever. You're all taken care of, I promise. And no one has ever broken out of those restraints, so you might as well save your energy. 

Coming down from the boarding class-Z… from the pink fog is a bit rough. Sorry about that. They use that stuff because it's so fast acting, to prevent accidents, like the times the rescue staff lost a few vines over one of the little fishies getting fussy. Now that doesn't happen as much anymore. And you look adorable, all dazed with those big, beautiful pupils. I could just eat you up. Not literally. Maybe Mistress will, if you ask her nicely. 

Who I am? Her royal highness, Princess Bea Buttercup, first of her name, hugger of plushies and warmer of Her bed. Oh, and First Floret. Of course. Actually, only Bea Buttercup and First Floret a real parts of my name, but it's fun to play pretend. I do that a lot— 

But isn't it much more exciting who you are? Or are going to be? My connivent. Maybe even Pinnate. Soon. But you'll have to ask my properly and politely for that second one. You can be my little sister! Or my royal foot-stool, if that's more your thing. Victoria Buttercup, Vi for short, Second Floret, little sister to the princess and royal foot-stool if she feels like it. Or I feel like it. 

What do you mean? That isn't your name? But I picked it out so carefully. I even asked the AI for a girly royal name! For you, of course. I came up with Bea all on my own! Or Mistress did, I'm not so sure. Well, that's not the point. I'm not going to call you that ridiculous name you had on that uniform name-tag. Lieutenant isn't a real name! And the other one… Well, you'd much rather be my Vi, I'm sure. 

Gosh, you got all blushy! Just from hearing your name. Yes, your name, unless you really want a different one… But good girls do as they are told! Mistress says that a lot— Oh. Oh! Oh, Everbloom! Now she's really blushing. I was just teasing you before, but now you're ~glowing~. Are you a good girl, Vi? A good little sister for me? 

I knew it. Mistress said I didn't need to worry. And she was right. Or course, Mistress is always right. I can't remember a time when she wasn't. 

Come on! Good girls don't need those. Get up, let's go, let's find Mistress so you can thank her for getting you out of there. And I can thank her for bringing me my little sister Vi! You're going to be so precious. 

We're going to have so much fun! 

[thewulf]

Who Did This To You? || Rafe Cameron

Summary: Request - Rafe fic based on song wait in the truck by Hardy. Basically he sees her one night that he’s going for a drive to calm down picks her up and drives to the house of maybe her dad or boyfriend and shoots them... Read Rest Here

A/N: Wrote this quick but had so much fun omg love a protective Rafe!! Thank you so much for the request @loving-and-dreaming

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k+

Rafe’s truck raced down the winding street on the Pogue’s side of the island. He stopped at Barry’s needing to pick up another supply for the party he’d planned to be at that weekend.

What he wasn’t expecting to see was you stumbling along the side of the road completely disorientated and disheveled beyond repair. He parked his truck close to your trembling body that kept trying to walk but seemed to betray itself.

“Y/N?” He called seeing you off in your own head. He shivered seeing the amount of blood that coated the front of your body once you turned responding to your name. He didn’t see that. You were fucked up. Beaten up by somebody who clearly wanted to hurt you. But who could have wanted to do that to you? You might have been a Pogue, a Maybank even, but damn he’d be lying if he didn’t say you weren’t a big ass ray of sunshine. Despite every shitty circumstance thrown at you, you handled everything so well.

“Who did this to you?” Rafe asked brushing your shoulder careful not to touch anywhere you may be bleeding from. There was so much fucking blood. It made his own damn head queasy, and Rafe was used to blood. He wasn’t sure how you were even standing. The metallic smell of the drying liquid brought him back to the urgency of the situation, “Maybank,” He raised his voice a bit but cursing to himself when he say you shy away, “Hey, Y/N. Who did this to you baby?” He asked once more trying to help. But the alarm in your eyes told him he’d fucked up somehow. Was he standing too close? Did he touch you where you might’ve been hurting from?

You shook your head trying to get away from his grasp. This wasn’t the Rafe Cameron who ragged on you day in and day out. He’d never, ever call you baby. No, you were hallucinating. Just had to keep going, JB’s cottage wasn’t too far now. You tried your hardest but whatever it was you were dreaming was stopping you from moving.

“Y/N?” He asked pulling you back towards his truck. He didn’t want to hurt you, but you clearly weren’t in the state to be wandering down a dark ass road with what looked like half the blood in your body coating every inch of exposed skin and drenching the clothing you had on.

“Please.” You whined trying to pull your hand away from his gentle embrace, but you couldn’t. You didn’t have any more damn energy to try and fight him off.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He brushed the hair that was clinging to the dried blood on your cheek away drawing a soft groan from your lips, “I’m so sorry pretty.” What you thought was the hallucination whispered at you, “Why don’t you sit down in the truck Y/N?” He asked you. Worry laced his eyes seeing a blown-out pupil in one of your eyes as he finally made eye contact with you. He knew you were in rough shape. A blown-out eye was never a good sign.

“I can’t. Have to get…” You coughed feeling the adrenaline wearing down and the full effects of the beat down from your father start to set in. He’d hit you before, yes. But never had you experienced the full wrath of your drunk and likely stoned dad. It was a damn miracle you were even alive right now. Had you now been able to get a kick to his chest knocking him off balance you weren’t sure if you’d be breathing right now.

Gingerly, Rafe placed his hands on either side of your head trying to get you to focus on him, “I’ll take you, okay? Just, sit down. Please baby? You’re hurt. Really fucking bad Maybank. I need you to sit in my truck.” He said with a little more authority trying to get you to acknowledge him. Sure, he’d never been exactly kind to you but seeing you like this? Broken and shattered? That enraged Rafe.

You weren’t each other’s biggest fans, but he still grew up with you. He watched out for you at parties. He knew what his friends said about the younger Maybank. He also knew you had your brother and his friends protecting you. He was never worried about you. So, seeing you looking like you’d just escaped a crime scene on the side of the road at ten o’clock at night sent alarm bells ringing through Rafe’s head.

You nodded into his hand, “Okay.” You croaked out noting how damn bad it hurt to speak.

“I’m going to pick you up, okay?” He asked softy, only more concern and worry lacing his eyes as you listened to him.

You nodded not having it in you to answer him.

That’s all he needed to scoop you right up as quickly but gently as he could muster. It made him sick seeing you so broken in his arms. He’d always thought you were beautiful. Everybody on the damn island thought you were. What set you apart from the others was your kindness though. No matter how nasty he and his friends were to you and yours you always greeted him with a smile and sometimes even a wave. No matter what. No matter what nasty comment he threw your way. You always handled him and his stupid ass friends with grace. Something your older brother lacked greatly. What he lacked in your made up for greatly and vice versa.

Rafe set you down as softly as he could in the passenger’s seat of his truck, his father’s truck. Not really giving a damn about the blood that would surely be staining the seat below you. Never in his wildest imagination would he thought this would be the reason he’d be hiding the truck from his father until he could get it detailed. He always thought he’d wreck it, or it’d be his blood coating the seats beneath him. Never would he have guessed it could be you in this scenario. He’d always had a soft spot for you. Always picking on you a little less and a somewhat more lightly than he did any other pogue.

“Can you stay awake there for me Maybank?” He asked reaching over you to buckle you in. When you didn’t make a sound he panicked leaning back to look at you, “Y/N?”

“I’m trying.” You sighed closing your eyes while leaning your head back. God, you felt like absolute death. How in the hell did John B and JJ get into this shit so often? It was downright painful. Boys were mad you’d concluded quickly.

“Thank you baby.” He buckled you in making sure to pull it the seat belt tight knowing you weren’t really in the state to hold yourself up, “I’m going to take you back to my place okay? Get you cleaned up. Then, we can find your brother when you’re feeling up to it?”

You couldn’t stop the tears that slipped from your eyes. It was too much. All too fucking much. It felt like Rafe was killing you with kindness. He wasn’t acting like the guy you thought you knew. You thought he was an absolute dickhead with literally no redeeming qualities. But this? This had you reeling. Rethinking everything that you thought you knew. He was being so sweet. So kind and gentle. So loving.

“Hey, hey. Y/N? Are you okay?” Another round of panic flashed through his eyes seeing your tears roll down your face now. So softly, so unlike anything you thought you knew, he brushed those tears away with the pads of his fingertips.

You let out a shaky breath nodding your head, “I’m okay.” Finally, you opened your eyes to look him over. He looked, rough. To say the least. Panic had thrown his appearance out of whack. It was hard to see with one eye being nearly busted but he didn’t look like the confident Rafe who never seemed to break.

He gave you a long look over, almost unsure with your answer. You clearly weren’t okay. But you were alive. You were tough. You were Y/N. The beauty of the island. The girl who seemed to brighten anybody’s day without even realizing it. A gem among mounds of coal. A fucking Maybank of all people.

He gave you a curt nod before shutting the door. Not a moment later he jumped in the driver’s seat, “You can stay in my room tonight. Dad and Rose are on the mainland working a deal. Sarah is with John B for the night. Wheezy is sleeping over at a friend’s. The house is mine, ours.” He spoke while starting the engine. Looking over to make sure that was fine with you.

“Sounds good Rafe.” You spoke softly, finding it easier than speaking at a normal volume.

He had to ask again. Looking you over as he drove back towards his house it was a damn miracle he’d found you. He wasn’t even supposed to be on that road, but he stopped by Barry’s on a whim. Low and behold he fond you. Broken and barely moving.

“Who did this to you, Y/N?” He asked with a little more authority in his voice. The anger rose as he heard you wheezing, seemingly trying to gasp for air. Likely a broken rib making it hard for you to breath in.

“I don’t…” You tried but he quickly spoke over you.

“Yes you do Y/N. Who did this to you baby? Please tell me. Please” His tone of voice turned to one of pleading. You looked over at him seeing his broken look studying the road ahead of him, careful not to put you in more danger than you already were in.

You let out a broken sigh. Why were you trying to protect the scum bag anyway? You were tired. So, fucking tired of hiding from him. Screaming at him when he was wailing on JJ. Screaming at him when he was punching you. This wasn’t a life you wanted. Wasn’t one you could stand much longer.

“My dad. My dad did this.” You clenched your hands together to stop the shaking.

Rafe looked at you incredulously, almost as if he didn’t believe you, “Your dad?”

You nodded silently closing your eyes once more. Afraid to see what judgment might form in his look.

“Is your dad still at home Y/N?” He asked a lot more seriously than he had been moments before.

“Yeah I think so.” You spoke quietly. You felt the truck slow and change directions, “Where are we going Rafe? I thought you said we were going back to yours?”

He hummed, “We are. Just making a stop at your place first.”

You shook your head, “No, Rafe. Don’t. He’s not worth it.” You knew him stopping could only mean trouble.

He kept driving knowing you weren’t in the state to put up even a little bit of a fight, “Look at you Y/N. I’m just paying old man Maybank a quick visit.” He cooed seeing how distraught you were right next to him. A gentle hand laid to rest on your thigh. He rubbed his thumb in circles trying to soothe you just a little, “You just wait in the truck baby, okay?” He asked not giving you much of an option.

More tears spilled, “Please be careful Rafe.” You felt an internal sense of dread as his truck rolled up on the gravel sidewalk in front of the piece of shit trailer you, JJ and your dad lived in. You should be grateful, or so your dad always fucking told you.

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be right back. Then we’ll get you cleaned up, yeah?” He leaned over placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Surely, you were in some sick dream. Who in the hell was this man? He was so gentle, so soft with you.

“Hurry.” You whined feeling your body losing to the grapple of consciousness. Rafe must’ve sensed your fading into blackness as he nodded before hopping out of the truck. You didn’t miss him grabbing the gun under the front seat. You gulped as you heard him beating on the front door calling out for your surely passed out father. He wouldn’t be very happy when he came to. But you didn’t hear the rest. You succumbed to the darkness letting the hold of darkness take control for the first time in a while.

“There you are.” Rafe’s voice made you turn your head toward him. You felt him grab at your hand giving it the most delicate squeeze. Acting as if your hand was made of the finest porcelain.

“Rafe.” You sighed, “What happened?”

He gulped turning away from you, “I’ll uh… I’ll let your brother explain that.” He gave you a soft laugh, “Let’s just focus on you right now, how are you feeling baby?”

“Baby huh?” You finally commented on his newly used pet name on you. You were usually ‘Muddy Maybank’ or the ‘Pogue Pleaser’ as he so kindly called you.

Rafe smirked knowing this meant you had to at least feel a little bit better if you were commenting on it, “Sure. Suits you.” He nodded his head brushing the hair out of your eyesight knowing you were probably far too sore to be moving so soon.

You quirked an eyebrow in surprise. Maybe you looked really fucking bad because this wasn’t the Rafe you���d known for the last fifteen years, “Does it?”

He nodded giving your hand another soft squeeze, “If you want.” He left it up to you.

You thought for a moment. You weren’t blind. He was bloody fucking gorgeous the man was. Tall but not stalky. Built but not too muscular. Fine as hell. Dapper as could be. Style beyond recognition. Class further than you could ever imagine. But… he had that mouth that put you down so often. Put your brother and friends down too. You’d sworn him and his type off completely long ago. But why, for the love of God, did it make you feel the tiniest amount of giddiness when that word came off his tongue?

“Maybe I do.” You admitted.

His smirk only grew to a smile as he heard you, “Yeah?” he scooted the chair closer to his bed that you were lying in. You looked yourself over impressed at how well he’d managed to clean you up while you were unconscious.

You nodded giving him a soft smile, “I like the sound of it.”

He hummed using his free hand to run his thumb along your unbruised cheek bone, “Then it’s settled. I’ll call you baby so long as you let me.”

You grinned feeling that dull flutter turn to more rapid nerves in your stomach as you let yourself fall more and more into the man sitting so closely next to you, “Rafe?” You asked feeling the exhaustion come over you once more.

“Yeah?” He answered you with a small amount of concern seeing your eyes flutter closed once more. Had he missed something? Were you still feeling bad? Were you bleeding internally?

“Will you sleep with me? I’m tired.” Your soft voice broke him from his own train of thoughts.

He looked you over seeing the delicate state you were in. But that sweet begging look on your eyes when you looked at him had him agreeing with you too quickly, “Anything you need baby.”

He climbed into the bed next to you. Softly he grabbed at your waist pulling you as gently as he could towards himself letting you adjust to him as best as you could, “Thank you.” You whispered letting yourself nuzzle into his chest falling asleep before he could even respond.

“You have no idea, sweet girl.” He knew you were asleep, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and giving you a soft kiss on your forehead. He didn’t miss the sweet smile that came to your face as you slept in his arms. Rafe could certainly get used to this.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove

[sceletaflores]

•｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ wip wednesday!

thanks for the tag @guiltyasdave <3

wip #1 • SINK IN MY WITH YOUR DOG TEETH!

there's something off with logan...

this is the feral!logan fic that won the last poll i posted. i'm almost done with it, literally all i need to do is finish up the smut but it's been kicking my ass every single time i try and sit down to actually finish it :))) which is so great and fun for me :)))

The energy in the room crackles like a storm about to break, and you feel it in your bones, in the way your skin prickles under his gaze. "I was only gone for an hour," you say, your voice measured, careful. "You were still asleep when I left, I didn’t want to wake you."  You chance a glance over your shoulder, and the sight of him steals the air from your lungs. Logan hasn’t moved an inch from his perch on the edge of the bed, but the sheer force of his presence keeps you rooted in place, heart hammering in your chest. “Hmm, that’s real sweet, baby,” he drawls, sitting up straighter now, leaning forward. The motion makes him seem larger somehow, shoulders broad and imposing in the dim light. His tongue drags slowly across his bottom lip, and the way his gaze rakes over you feels like a physical touch, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your fingers still in the drawer, fabric slipping from your grasp as your pulse pounds in your ears. You can’t bring yourself to look away from him, caught in the snare of his sharp, predatory focus. You turn slowly, arms falling to hang limply at your sides. "I wasn't gone long." Logan tilts his head, a low, amused sound rumbling in his chest as he rises to his feet with a fluid, deliberate ease that makes your stomach flip. “Didn’t feel that way to me, darlin’.” His voice is a low, gravelly purr, sending a shiver down your spine. “Felt like forever.” His eyes never leave yours as he crosses the room, the green completely swallowed by the dark black of his pupils as they seep into the color like oil spilling out over the surface of a lake. You’ve never seen him like this before, so hungry. "Logan," you say slowly, back pressed tightly against your dresser. "You're really starting to freak me out."  Logan hums idly, head cocked to the side as he watches you. "I can hear your heartbeat."  His tone is calmer now, but there’s still a dangerous edge to it, like a knife pressed just lightly enough against the skin not to break it. Your pulse races, heat simmering in your stomach despite the slight edge of fear clawing its way through your chest. He stops in front of you, close enough that his scent invades your senses strong enough to make your knees feel like they’re about to buckle beneath you. “There’s nothin’ to be scared of baby,” he mutters quietly, thick arms coming up to cage you against the dresser. 

wip #2 • ALL THAT GLITTERS...

a billionaire walks into your job, and then into your apartment…

omg...a bruce wayne fic? yeah i don't know either...i just got way too into the dc universe by accident and had one (1) single idea that i thought fit his character too well to not write it. will i actually ever post this? i don't know. am i having fun with it anyway? yes, maybe a little too much fun. don't read into it i'm just throwing this at the wall because it's plagued my mind for days.

You snort, shaking your head as you walk down the hall, but you can't help the way your mind starts wandering. Maybe Rachel is right, was that your big moment? The story you'd pass down to your grandchildren once you got old enough that your filter had gone? "Yes, it's true, grandma had one crazy night with the Bruce Wayne." You shake your head, dispelling all thoughts of what might have happened had you not spent the whole lunch nervously poking at a way too overpriced plate of pasta and shoving your own foot in your mouth. Bruce—Mr. Wayne—clearly felt some kind of pity towards you that day. He was known for his charitableness, helping you score that holiday bonus and taking you out was just that—charity. You had to admit it was good press, a good headline to splash across the magazines he frequented. You could see it so clearly in your mind. BILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY BRUCE WAYNE CHARMS BUMBLING SALES GIRL WITH LUXURY LUNCH! HEART OF GOLD, OR JUST ANOTHER PR STUNT? You sigh, the memory of his perfectly polite smile gnawing at you. He didn’t look uncomfortable, though. If anything, he seemed...amused. Not in the cruel, condescending way you feared, but in the same way someone might look at a puppy struggling to climb a too-tall staircase. Endearing, maybe, but ultimately a fleeting novelty. It wasn’t like the Bruce—Mr. Wayne—was secretly harboring some deep, hidden interest in you. He’d paid for lunch, helped you out with a well-placed favor, and probably forgot about you the moment he left the restaurant. A man like him doesn't chase after someone like you. He chases after pretty trust fund babies, A-list actresses, supermodels. Not women working commission at Harrow & Bloom that live in broken down apartment complexes where there's only one elevator that's been out of order since you moved in. And honestly? That was fine. Better, even. You didn't need that kind of stress in your life, the stress of being thrown off the deep end and into the public eye all because you were photographed on your solemn walk of shame out of Wayne Manor. You were over it. Completely over it. That's what you tell yourself as your wrench the door open with a little more force than necessary and— And Bruce Wayne is on the other side, standing in the hallway of your shitty apartment complex in a perfectly pressed suit looking extremely out of place. Bruce Wayne is on the other side of your door. The door that you slam right back shut directly in his face just as he opens his mouth to speak. What the fuck?

kisses!

i know it's not wednesday anymore...but i'll tag some beloved mutuals anyway! sorry if you've been tagged already <3

no pressure tags! @ebodebo @artemis-b-writes @elflutter @eupheme @javier-pena @raeinyourdreams @moonlight-prose @silverskyeline @superhoeva

[into-fiction]

can you write a sappy drunk galinda? i can see elphie just trying to keep her on her feet while she just looks up at her with those big brown eyes and is like “you make me so happy.” and elphaba obviously just melts

sure! i love drunk glinda. i somehow managed to fit both sappy drunk AND sad drunk glinda into 'brave' purely for self indulgence lol.

double posted this one to ao3. enjoy~~

///

"Elphie!"

Elphaba barely manages to get her arms out in time to catch a stumbling Galinda, the blonde giggling wildly as she tumbles forward. Thankfully, she isn't currently holding a drink, but it's clear from the way she leans into Elphaba that she's already had more than she said she would.

"Galindaa," Elphaba groans. "You promised you wouldn't get drunk."

Personally, Elphaba doesn't know what the appeal is. She hates the taste of alcohol, and she hates the idea of losing control of her own actions even more. The thought of getting drunk enough to be giggly and dumb like this turns her stomach.

"I'm not drunk!" Galinda protests. It's a ridiculous statement considering she's swaying slightly, her pupils wide and dark as she beams up at Elphaba.

"Yes, you definitely are. Which means we're going back to school. Right now."

"Wha- noooo," Galinda whines, digging her heels in as Elphaba tries to urge her forward. The Ozdust swims around them, a haze of lights and sound and sweaty bodies that makes a headache pound faintly in the back of Elphaba's skull.

"Yes, Galinda, you're drunk and I'm tired. We're leaving."

"But Elphie! You haven't danced with me yet!"

Elphaba rolls her eyes, still trying to move forward as Galinda latches tighter to her arm, nearly falling into her as she trips over her own feet. "And I'm not going to. I told you earlier: I don't dance."

"But--"

"No."

"But!"

"No."

Galinda pouts harder, glossy lower lip shining as it catches the bouncing beams of light. Her skin is pale in the darkness, her dress glittering. Her hair is messier than usual from dancing all night, and her makeup is smudged by the corner of her eyes.

She looks ridiculous.

(she looks beautiful.)

"Pleaseeee, Elphie?" Galinda asks once more, her voice soft and her eyes wide. Elphaba has to turn away from the sight, Galinda's face open and earnest in a way her typical mask often doesn't allow.

Fuck.

"....fine."

Galinda squeals with joy, bouncing on her toes as she leans up and presses a sloppy kiss to Elphaba's cheek. The other girl can feel herself blush hard, her heart skipping so many beats she nearly keels over.

Galinda will be the death of Elphaba someday; she just knows it.

She lets herself be dragged out to the dancefloor, the music thumping as the band plays in the corner, bodies moving in a fluid rush that blurs around her as her focus narrows to the way Galinda wraps her arms around her neck and pulls her close.

"Like this," the blonde tells her, humming under her breath as she sways.

It's funny because, usually, Galinda tends to come off to Elphaba as a bit stiff and awkward and uptight. She's so worried about how she looks that her every move is tense and offbeat, overthought to hell and back.

But here, in the dark anonymity of the Ozdust, with enough alcohol in her system to make her relaxed and brave, Galinda moves easily, a natural rhythm to her that sends heat rushing through Elphaba as the other girl bites her lower lip slightly and looks up at her with hooded eyes.

"Come on, Elphie," Galinda breathes. "Dance with me."

And Oz help her, but Elphaba would do just about anything Galinda told her at that moment.

There's a single brief second where Elphaba has to wonder if being drunk is contagious, because her head is swimming and her palms are sweating and there is a fizzy sort of energy in her veins that makes her want to do something stupid.

The music fills her ears and drowns out the sound of her pounding heart. The previous dark tint of a growing headache and lingering exhaustion is washed away by the brightness of Galinda's voice and touch and smile.

She loses track of time, Galinda pulling her out of the crush of people to grab more drinks, shoving a cup in Elphaba's hand that she's pleased to notice is sweet but non-alcoholic.

She dives right back onto the dance floor with an even sloppier Galinda at her side, the other girl giggling and stumbling until Elphaba is practically holding her up, their bodies getting closer and closer until she's lost track of where one girl ends and the other begins.

"W-we should really head back soon," Elphaba tries to say, an electric buzz under her skin despite the fact that she knows she's completely sober. Galinda has her head against Elphaba's shoulder, her palm pressed to Elphaba's lower back.

"Mmm, maybe," Galinda hums. She pulls back enough to blink up at Elphaba, eyes dark and shiny, the various lights reflecting off her pale hair as she smiles.

"What?" Elphaba asks after several seconds pass where Galinda doesn't say anything else. She wonders how much of a mess she looks when even Galinda looks a bit rough. Her cheeks are flushed and her brow is damp and she's got the dopiest little look on her face.

"Nothing," Galinda giggles, tipping onto her toes so she can press a finger to Elphaba's cheek. "You look happy."

Elphaba hadn't realized she'd been smiling this whole time. She hadn't noticed the bubbly warmth in her chest. Galinda is grinning at her, and she's never looked quite so human before.

Elphaba is so utterly fucked it's not even funny.

"Are you? Happy?" Galinda asks.

Elphaba swallows hard, pulse racing as Galinda somehow moves even closer, her dark lashes brushing against pale skin as she searches Elphaba's face. "Yeah," Elphaba whispers. "I am."

She shakes herself, glancing over Galinda's head so she doesn't have to be confronted with the full force of the blonde's beaming smile. Her chest rattles and quakes, tender and fragile and falling apart under the force of feelings she refuses to name.

"Are you?" she quips back. "Happy?"

She has a pretty good idea of the answer, what with the blonde still unsteady on her feet from all the alcohol in her system and the way she can't go twenty seconds without giggling or breaking into song. Still-

"Yes!" Galinda chirps, nodding so hard her whole body bobs up and down. "Very! Happy! I am!"

Oh great. She's lost full sentences. They're definitely leaving now.

Then Galinda throws almost all her weight into Elphaba, so quickly Elphaba yelps as she grabs onto her, pulling her into her so she doesn't go tumbling to the sticky floor. They end up chest to chest, Galinda having tried to wrap her arms around Elphaba in a hug.

Her breath ghosts over Elphaba's ear as she speaks, sighing softly and sinking into Elphaba's hold. "You make me happy, Elphie."

And damn her all to hell, but Elphaba can't help the way she practically melts at the words, her insides turned to goo as she hides her face in Galinda's hair and breathes in the sweet scent of everything she loves.

"You make me happy, too."

[kaeso4ka]

Optimus loves you. And someone's falling in love with you, too. Something's brewing

Pairing: yandere Optimus Prime x reader

You weren't very popular with the men. Neither was she popular with women. You weren't a femme fatale that people craned their necks at. Nor was she a person with a pleasant energy.

So when Noah came to you and started giving you active - or not so active - attention, the first thing you thought of was Optimus. And his holoform. And some other Cybertronian quirk.

It was just too suspicious. Or are you just being paranoid?

Maybe so. That's why you were too cold and even aggressive: the first bouquets a guy gave you flew at him and into the trash. Sometimes in reverse order.

Noah studied together with you, so not meeting in the corridors of the educational institution was problematic. It's not that you were hiding on purpose, it's just-- Cautious.

Or afraid, but not that Noah was a Prime, but… That Optimus would find out?

“These are for you,” Noah smiled broadly, holding out a bouquet of red roses to you. “Sorry about the slightly crumpled petals.”

You froze as you approached Optimus standing in the parking lot. He had come to pick you up, as he always did. How fortunate that Noah had decided to approach at this very moment.

“Thank you,” you threw a warning glance in Optimus' direction, praying to all the Gods that he wouldn't snap, and…. “Beautiful.”

Your gratitude made Noah relax a little. He did seem to be worried. Afraid of your reaction.

“Maybe you want to go for a ride? I have a car. I can give you a ride home.”

“She's not going,” the door slammed. The familiar voice, but without the metallic tones, cut her ears. You turned around, meeting your gaze with the blue pupils of Optimus' holoform. Yes, now, comparing Optimus and Noah's holoform, it was clear that it was unlikely that Prime would have looked so… Simply, “right, my Spark?”

You looked at Optimus for a couple seconds, and then shrugged.

“Uh, yeah no. Thanks, brother, for giving me a ride home today. But I'm going with Noah. Give Grandpa Ratchet a big hello,” you headed over to Noah, giving him a smile. She added quietly, though Prime could hear everything, “Don't worry, that's my big brother. He lives around here with his grandfather… He has dementia. Takes care of him and gives me a ride home sometimes.”

“Brother… They don't look alike at all,” Noah's face had a glow of doubt, but now he relaxed. He looked at Optimus respectfully, and then at his altmode, “A trucker?”

“Long hauler,” you answered for Prime, scooping Noah up under his arm. With your free hand, you clasped the bouquet more firmly to your side, “lead the way to your car. Bye, little brother!”

The altmode's door slammed a second time. Optimus drove away, and you couldn't help but hold back a cheer: it seemed that someone was intensely jealous. For some reason, it made you feel a little happy.

[exorcqism]

„𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆”

: ̗̀➛ 18+ CONTENT!!!

: ̗̀➛ afab!reader, lil bit of sex, nun too heavy. teasing, some whimpering, dom!reader. not proofread so i apologize in advance for any mistakes if they’re made.

: ̗̀➛ art creds by;; separuhpuding. dividers are not mine, if you own these, you may claim them in comments.

: ̗̀➛ WORD COUNT;; 3.1K

: ̗̀➛ plot aspects inspired by;; @selfishdoll (good ass writer,, i recommend)

* dark mode recommended

* do not copy this plot. i’m perfectly fine with inspirations but give creds. if this plot his stolen in any way, the post will be taken down and you will be blocked.

𝐃𝐀𝐊𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 ✉️🖇️;; ngllll i was writing the smut in gym class. i was INTO it. but its nothing heavy…just a lil nasty nasty 🌚 this was my first time writing for choso BUT THIS MAN SO FINE. i hope ya enjoy ittttt

you and choso were roommates. it wasn’t surprising. you both went to the same college, you were good friends. nothing was wrong with that. but you were wondering what went wrong…why the two of you drifted apart.

“morning, choso!” you beamed at the 5’11 male sitting on the couch, his violet irises looking intently at his paper, loosely holding the pencil between his fingers. “Smoke Break-Dance” by JID played quietly on the speaker beside the tv, you noticed. you smiled a bit. choso must’ve been picking up on your music taste…or it was conveniently playing and he didn’t realize.

the male finally glanced up at you, registering your presence and lifted his hand, replacing actual words.

you plopped down beside him, making the side you sat on sink downward underneath him. his violet irises dragged to their left to look at you.

“whatcha doing?” you smile.

choso could never get over your soft voice and playful attitude. it always made him feel like he was doing something wrong. was he too boring? was it the fact that he hardly had any energy to do anything at all and he just laid around majority of the day? he didn’t know himself.

“writing…” he said quietly. “writing a poem…”

a couple months into your junior year of college was when he told you he loved you. he couldn’t explain himself but that’s what he was feeling all that time you stayed with him.

when you came around, he had a weird feeling in his chest when he saw you.

‘this body is betraying me’ he thought. he thought it was odd to be feeling this way about a human. a woman at that.

choso was a bit possessive of you. he enjoyed your company but grimaced at the men that came into your vicinity. the male watched from a distance, swallowing his urge to burst into a fit of rage but it would completely ruin his calm image.

“it’s fine,” yuji shrugged, waving his hand at his big brother, “that’s your girl, of course you’d be upset at another dude talking to her. it’s completely fine. don’t get so aggy.”

choso was happy to have his little brother, yuji there to comfort him when we was too nervous to confront you about the situation. from simple situations like this all the way to why he had an odd feeling between his legs when he kissed you. he didn’t think the rod that hung down in his lower area would be used for more than just using the bathroom….until yuji said so.

your “first time” was pretty interesting. it consisted of choso asking you if you were okay or if he was doing it right, to which you replied “yes” each time followed by a moan. you were wondering if he had done this before but you chose not to get into it.

more time goes by and then that’s when you realized that you were drifting apart.

choso was pursuing a career in art. drawing realistic portraits, using his heaven sent abilities to make drawings that looked like davinci had created them.

you were attempting to be a nurse, so you were off campus a lot, spending time at other hospitals to do “hands on” learning. neither of you had much time to talk to each other, though you sent texts back and forth assuring each other that everything was okay.

choso’s pupils retracted, hearing the sudden news of you wanting to break up with him. it was like he was going into shock.

“don’t you understand how much it would hurt me to see you go?” he said, his deep voice breaking. you never heard him sound so broken before. the moment almost made you cry yourself. the male gently took your hands, his sad eyes looking into yours, searching for an answer. but there was nothing.

“Y/N please…” you felt his grip on your hands get a bit tighter. you kept your head down, avoiding eye contact with him to refrain from making yourself cry in front of him.

you were gone and that was the end of it. you left your favorite person with his heart hurting, making him feel like he had to throw up. it was like his whole world had went cold, now that you weren’t in it.

two years passed and you haven’t seen choso. you were starting to forget about him. there were some physical features about him that you forgot too…like the way he looked bored all the time or the fact that he always had his hair in two buns and occasionally letting it all the way down.

you went on about your day while choso was probably in his room crying his eyes out, falling into a depression.

you heard a knock at your apartment door. you were confused at first because you weren’t expecting anyone to come over and a select few people knew where you lived. you put on a pair of joggers after walking around in nothing but an oversized hoodie and a pair of ankle socks.

the moment you opened the door, a set of hands clasped onto your waist like a corset and pulled you closer to the owner of those said hands. you were pulled into a really tight hug.

you melted in this person’s arms. their touch, the way they smelled, their warmth…you missed it. your arms wrapped around them, returning that hug. you could feel your scleras burning as tears began to form in your eyes.

memories of choso flooded back into your mind like a tsunami consuming an entire city. salty lines of tears slid down your cheeks and you held the male a bit tighter than he was holding you.

“i’m so sorry, cho.” you cried. “i didn’t mean to hurt you the way i did. i didn’t know what i was doing and—”

you were immediately cut off by a kiss. you had a storm of emotions swirling through your body, your eyes traveled up to the male after he pulled away from you.

a tired smile was flashed at you before you heard him say something just above a whisper, his deep voice startling you a bit.

you forgot about that.

“don’t apologize.”

“but i left you alone for so long. you aren’t upset? you not feeling some type of way about me?” your voice shaking from your recent crying.

“no, i’m not angry.” choso said, his hand sliding down your arm to hold yours. “it’s been two years…and i waited until you were ready.”

“i was told that i should be patient and i shouldn’t try to hold you back.” he added but his words only made you cry even more. he waited for you? he could’ve found so many other women and he waited two years for you?

“why did you wait? you could’ve found someone else to replace me, you know that?”

the violet eyed male just shrugged. “loyalty. if you needed a century, i’ll wait for you.” choso’s loyalty was that of a dog waiting for its owner to return after being gone for hours on end.

having nine other brothers, choso knew what loyalty was and it was something he valued heavily. but most importantly, he valued you. your safety. everything.

“good job, cho!” yuji grinned as he threw his arm around the taller male’s waist. choso’s head swung around, his hair flowing with him and looked at the other, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“i knew you could do it.” he continued.

“why are you even here…?” choso queried, putting on his awkward smile. you just watched with a smile on your face as the pair of brothers chattered until it faded into playful bickering.

later that day, you and choso were at your apartment, in your bedroom relaxing after yuji convinced the two of you to hang out with him for the day. choso was reading a book called “The Art of War”. you enjoyed when he read aloud to you. even though you were getting a bit bored, you didn’t wanna tell him that.

you were getting impatient. needy even. you missed being so close to him and being touched by his hands that looked two times the size of yours. abruptly, the book closes before choso would kiss you passionately as if something had possessed him. his lips were pressing against yours. he didn't say anything, his breath was heavy. everything was blurry to him.

choso held you tight against him, his hands moving to caress your waist. he was no longer thinking straight. he kept kissing you. he was drunk off of the feeling. but he cared about your lips. they were soft and plushy. he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt something as good as this.

soon, his hands moved to your neck. he caressed your throat, tenderly. his head was swimming, filled only by the feelings he had for you. kissing turned into biting, and biting turned into licking, and licking turned into kissing again. his lips were everywhere on your body. all he wanted was you.

there was no talking anymore. only the sound of the two of you breathing. you were breathing fast, filled with excitement. the way choso was looking at you was driving you crazy. he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

he was caressing you from top to bottom, his lips kissing every part of you. it was...perfect. he was yours, you were his. it made sense. what else did you need?

“you're so beautiful..." he whispered. “...so perfect.”

you felt his bare chest against yours. his body was hot. it felt incredible. you were lost in the pleasure, and there was no returning. it was too late to stop. choso wanted you and you wanted him. It was too good to be true. his hands were touching you everywhere, teasing you, making your blood pump faster, making you moan.

he made you moan loudly. his lips and tongue were everywhere. your whole body was shaking. everything felt amazing. every sensation was magnified by a hundred. the smell of his skin, his voice, his moans in your ear...it made you feel like you were going to go insane.

the male was holding both of your wrists. he was looking at you with lust. he didn't care about anything else. you were feeling so good you were unable to think anymore. your heart was pumping like crazy, your legs were shaking.

he kissed your neck, your collarbone, your breasts. his hands were everywhere on your body. he wanted you badly. he couldn't control himself. he was all over you. he didn't care if it was a little dirty. his hands were exploring every inch of your body, making you moan and scream loudly.

he took off your clothes while his eyes kept scanning your body. soon, you were both naked. you looked at each other's body with lust and excitement. you knew how right this was. nothing else mattered. all of your senses were focused on this moment.

the room was flooded with the sound of both your moans and your breathing. your body was hot, your mind was fuzzy. you were not yourself anymore. you were a different being, full of sensuality.

choso was looming over you now, looking down at you with burning passion in his eyes. he was holding your wrists tightly and staring at you, his muscles twitching, as if he was imagining what he'd do to you. you could feel his breath on your neck, your collarbone... you could smell him.

his fingers were kneading your skin, his hands were sliding all over your body. he wanted to possess you. he was devouring you, slowly, passionately, thoroughly. his hands were feeling you, exploring you, learning you. he was learning how your body was shaped all over again, to better pleasure you.

he was slowly moving his tongue against your thighs now, kissing his way up your body. your heart was beating faster and faster. you could hardly breathe. he was taking his time, but he wasn't playing games with you. he wanted you to enjoy this.

he was caressing your inner thighs, kissing them, licking them, making your legs shake. you couldn't remain silent anymore. you were overwhelmed by desire. he was in control, controlling you in the most delicate way possible, making you surrender to his will.

you began reaching down to choso’s lower area, gently caressing the length that he had been hiding from her. you bit your lip as you stared in awe and pure excitement.

he had no words. his lips were quivering as he stared at you. he was feeling you, feeling your desire. he wasn't thinking about anything else in this moment. he was in awe, in total disbelief. he was breathing furiously as he looked at your hand, moving slowly down.

he closed his eyes, unable to bear the intensity of the situation. a moment later, he opened his eyes, staring at you. his expression was intense. his face was flushed. he wasn't saying anything. all he could do was stare at your hand, moving so slowly up and down...

you moved your hand away for a moment, teasing your partner. choso couldn't help but moan loudly, feeling his heart pound so aggressively. he was addicted to your touch.

he looked at your face, still flushed, wanting to see you enjoying this moment as much as he was. your hand was moving up and down again, so slowly and... so seductively. it was too much for him, but you weren't stopping. you wanted to see him beg.

he could feel it. he was so close to the edge. his whole body was shaking, his breath was rapid. he was holding his breath, unable to control himself. It was taking so long, it was too much for him. he wanted you so badly, and you were making him wait. and you were enjoying it all.

he was so desperate, so hot, so ready to explode any second now. he was looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Y/N... i can't... anymore..." you heard choso mumble.

your eyes narrowed. he was yours, and you were in control. you were loving every second of it. you put your hand back on him and looked at him with a mischievous smile.

“wait a little bit more,” you said, still keeping your hand moving up and down. your free hand went to his mouth to stop him from talking. “be a good boy for me.” you added, with a sultry voice.

he was almost begging you to stop at this point. you were torturing him, playing with him. you had absolute power over him, and you loved it. you didn't want to give in just yet. you were playing with him, enjoying every second of it. it was such a thrilling feeling. you wanted him to suffer a little longer.

he was holding himself, trying to remain calm. the sensation was getting to his head. it was too much. he was starting to feel weak, his legs were trembling, and his hand was shaking.

he was shaking. he tried to move, to get away from your hand, but you were stronger. you held him tight. you were making him wait for your final touch, making him beg for it. he was so vulnerable, so at your mercy.

he was losing control, not able to think, not able to say anything. his breath was racing, his body was shaking, his mind was empty. all he could feel was you. your hand touching him, teasing him, driving him crazy.

choso was breathing heavily, trying to make sense of what was happening to him. he couldn't take it anymore. he turned his head away, hiding his trembling body. his body felt overwhelmed, so close to the edge.

“i can't... please,” he mumbled, his voice barely understandable through the moan. his eyes were closed tight, his face buried in the pillow.

you felt like the goddess of lust, controlling choso’s mind and body, as if he was a puppet in your hands. his voice, his breath, his body were all yours to control. you had broken him, and you were loving it. your whole body was shaking, just a lot less than his, but you still felt incredibly empowered.

you put your hand down again, but you didn't move it anymore. you kept it on him, looking at his face. “not yet,” you whispered.

choso was breathing fast, staring at you. his eyes were so full of lust, desire and love. he could barely move, his body was so tense, so close to the edge, shaking as if he was about to explode.

you were in complete control of his body and of his mind. you were enjoying this. watching him like this, looking at you, wanting you... it was delicious.

you could do anything you wanted with this weak and sensitive boy. literally anything. you could make him beg, you could make him shout. you could do whatever you wanted with him.

your hand was still touching his body. you kept looking at his face, drinking his expressions of love, lust and desire. you were loving watching him like this, enjoying your power over him.

you moved your free hand up to his face, caressing his cheek. you could feel his breath on your skin. he was trying so hard to remain still, but you could see he was shaking, his body so tense.

“don't move,” you whispered to him, with a provocative smile on your face. “stay still for me, boy.”

his heart was beating so fast. he was saying your name like it was the only thing he knew. he was looking at you, but he could hardly keep his eyes open. tears welled up in his eyes from pleasure. he physically couldn’t handle it but he wanted more of it. how could he resist you? you made him feel so weak in this situation. he felt dizzy. his entire body feeling numb.

soon enough, ropes of white substance spewed from his manhood and he was completely out of breath. choso laid down on top of you and you moved your hand away from him, putting your arms around him.

he’d kiss your lips gently before tucking his head into your neck and closing his eyes.

“i missed you so much.” he said quietly.

“i missed you too.” you replied before your eyes closed, falling asleep after your high died down.

𝐄𝐍𝐃.

⋆｡࿇ ·࣭࣪̇˖ 𖦹°༅༚

[writeyouin]

How about a platonic request? How would Mtmte Ratchet, Rodimus and Whirl react to seeing their normally quiet and reserved human friend losetheir temper and completely go off on another bot. They might be small but that doesn’t mean they won’t try and defend their friend if needed.

Transformers MTMTE / LL Reader Inserts – Flying Off the Handle

A/N – Here is the first on the headcanons list that I’m shooting out.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Ratchet

Ratchet is a grown mech, older than most, and far too old to take this slag from a disrespectful young mech.

He’s about to go off on one of his old men tirades. It’s the kind that always makes the younger mechs feel ashamed, but you beat him to it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You seethe, glaring at a bot six times your size.

“What?” The bot deadpans, looking at you like you’re nothing.

“Ratchet does everything around here. You would be dead if it wasn’t for him and you have the nerve to backtalk?!”

This is where Ratchet jumps in. “I expect nothing from fools like you. Get out of my med-bay. Go on, ”

The other bot leaves grumbling.

You’re still full of energy and wish that you had chance to expend it, but now Ratchet’s attention is on you.

“Don’t ever do that again,” He orders, worried about all the ways that could have ended badly and the ways in which you might have gotten hurt.

“But-” You start.

Ratchet holds up a servo, “I can handle myself. Don’t do it again!”

You wilt slightly, upset that you’ve offended Ratchet when really it’s the opposite, but Ratchet doesn’t want you to get the wrong idea. In all honesty, he’s proud of you. You’re brave, polite, and when push comes to shove, you won’t take shit from anyone. But you’re also human, and humans are delicate.

“Promise me,” Ratchet says sternly.

You nod, then excuse yourself from the med-bay. You want to be alone for a while.

Rodimus

Rodimus is loving this. One minute the two of you were having a laugh at “Visages” then a bot said something about Rodimus being a bad captain and you had completely lost it.

You threw a bottle which smashed off the big bot’s chassis effectively getting his attention and then you started ripping into him, listing off all the good things that Rodimus has done as Captain.

The whole bar is watching you. The music stopped, but the dance lights are still going, painting you in a variety of colours as you continue to yell.

Somewhere across the bar, Rewind is filming this, and afterwards, Rodimus knows he’s going to ask for a copy of that footage.

Still, there is a small part of Rodimus that knows he shouldn’t be enjoying this. He knows that it’s irresponsible. The bot could fight back, or seek revenge and you could get hurt.

But… He’s going to let you go off a little longer before he calls off the attack. He needs to hear why you think he’s a good captain. You’re his friend, and he has to hear you say it, because you’ll tell it like it is; you always do.

Yet, just in case, Rodimus is ready to grab you or plce his servo in front of you at a moment’s notice, just in case.

Yet for now, he needs this, and by the rage in your voice, it seems that you needed to blow of steam too.

Whirl

If Whirl had a jaw to drop, he would. As is, the only difference in demeanour is that his pupil dilates as he watches you scream at the bot in front of you.

It’s usually him that flies off the handle at things. In every instance that he has known you, it has always been Whirl looking out for you, protecting you, and yes, often irrationally losing his temper when there’s an offhanded comment made about you.

You’ve heard other bots insult Whirl before. Usually, they don’t get very far before Whirl throws a punch.

Yet, in those instances, you always remained calm, or hid if Whirl was fighting since that’s what he always told you to do because he doesn’t want to see his human pet hurt.

On the few instances that you thought Whirl wasn’t there, he’s heard you defend him to other mechs. He knows you’re always telling other mechs how good he is but you’re always being polite about it.

Yet this time, a mech said something and Whirl and… For the first time, he really didn’t give a frag.

It was a lazy insult anyway so he just ignored it, thinking about all the times he’s nearly gotten you into trouble.

But this aft of a mech isn’t letting this go that easily. Whirl is trying to walk away with you in tow, and this guy just keeps pushing him,

Yet, before Whirl can lose his cool, you do.

“CAN YOU JUST FUCK OFF?!”

Silence follows. The other mech doesn’t know how to respond. Everyone knows you, and you’ve never once shouted… Except for Mario Kart Rainbow Road, but everybody shouts at that.

You don’t stop. “WHIRL IS DOING HIS BEST AND YOU’RE FUCKING PUSHING HIM. WHY? SO YOU CAN GET A REACTION THEN PRETEND IT’S ALL ‘COS HE HAS A SHORT FUSE. FUCK THAT.”

You stop shouting but you’re no less irate as you continue your tirade about how this is the problem. Everyone is so set on how Cybertronians should act since everyone has long memories, but sometimes, people want to change and personalities aren’t set in stone.

In the end, the offending mech looks a little bit embarrassed. He mumbles an apology to you, and you correct him, telling him it’s not you he should say sorry to.

The mech very bitterly chokes out an apology to Whirl who is all too smug about this and makes a big performance out of accepting the apology, only toning it down when you elbow his leg.

The next day, you wake up to a leather biker jacket lying on your bed. On the back, scribbled messily is one word: Bodyguard.

[aller-geez]

Get to know: Vaelyn (Vee) Hawthorne

29 // he/him // pangreysexual // Lion Shifter

Full name: Vaelyn Hawthorne

Nickname: Vee

Date Of Birth: August 9th

Big Three: Leo 🌞 Gemini 🌙 Taurus ↗️

Physical Appearance —

Age: 29

Eye Color: pale blue green

Hair Color: a dark green that’s almost black, with a yellow strip on the right side

Weight: 178 lbs

Height: 6’2

Race: Lion Shifter

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: His sharp facial features give him an air of effortless confidence, though they often betray his inner turmoil when his composure slips. The red markings under his eyes as well as his white pupils glow softly when he uses his Oblivion’s Grasp ability. Wears a red piece of medical tape across his nose.

Personality —

Greatest Strength: Vee’s ability to channel raw emotion and energy into his music is unparalleled. He has an innate knack for blending genres and creating compelling, evocative tracks that captivate his audience. His illusions are also a terrifyingly effective weapon, making him a formidable opponent in combat or manipulation.

Greatest Weakness: The early stages of Oblivion Madness are taking a toll on Vee’s psyche. His paranoia, hallucinations, and blackouts make it difficult for him to trust anyone, including himself. His fear of failure also drives him to push himself too hard, exacerbating his condition.

Soft Spot: Despite his outward arrogance, Vee has a surprising compassion for those who feel out of place or misunderstood. He gravitates toward people who remind him of himself before his life spiraled out of control.

Mannerisms:

-His allergies and weak immune system mean he’s almost always sniffling or rubbing at his nose, though he tries to hide it out of embarrassment.

-Vee frequently flips his hair out of his face, a subconscious habit that accentuates his theatrical flair.

-often taps his fingers rhythmically on any surface, whether he’s thinking, nervous, or simply bored—his musical instincts never seem to rest.

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Signature Eye Contact: Vee’s illusion ability relies on eye contact, which makes his intense azure gaze both captivating and intimidating. He unconsciously avoids prolonged eye contact in casual settings to avoid making people uneasy.

Morning Ritual: Despite his chaotic nature, Vee has a surprisingly consistent morning routine involving a cup of overly sweetened coffee and 20 minutes of aggressive guitar shredding.

Oblivion Tells: During moments of high stress, his abilities sometimes activate unintentionally, causing faint, smoke-like shadows to coil around him.

Nervous Habit: Vee often drums his fingers on surfaces or taps his foot when he's deep in thought or agitated, sometimes humming riffs under his breath.

Childhood Dream: Before pursuing music, Vee wanted to be an archaeologist, inspired by his love for history and stories of powerful artifacts

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Yes, Vee has allergies, and they are both a source of physical discomfort and deep personal embarrassment. He is particularly sensitive to dust, mold, and seasonal allergens like pollen, which can set off sneezing fits that are rapid, intense, and impossible to ignore. His photic sneeze reflex—sneezing triggered by bright light—makes things even worse, as looking at a light source to fight off a tickle often backfires spectacularly.

How severe are they?

Vee’s allergies range from moderate to severe depending on the trigger:

Dust and Mold: These are the most debilitating. If he’s exposed for too long, he’ll not only sneeze uncontrollably but also experience itchy, watery eyes and congestion that can last hours.

Pollen/Seasonal Allergies: They’re milder than dust and mold but still enough to make him miserable, especially during spring.

Do they get sick often?

Yes, Vee gets sick very often due to his poor immune system, which has plagued him since childhood. Even mild colds can hit him harder than they would most people.

How bad is it usually?

Vee’s illnesses are usually severe and drawn out, including symptoms like:

High fevers that leave him delirious or bedridden.

Persistent, racking coughs that last weeks.

Stuffy or runny nose so relentless that he keeps tissues within arm’s reach at all times.

Voice hoarseness from excessive sneezing or throat irritation.

Do they stifle?

Vee rarely stifles his sneezes. He finds the sensation uncomfortable and counterproductive, often leaving him unsatisfied or worsening the fit. Additionally, the sheer force of his sneezes makes stifling nearly impossible, especially by the time he reaches the final sneeze of a fit. He’s learned to let them out, accepting that his sneezes are dramatic and impossible to suppress. However, in formal situations where he feels pressured to be discreet, he may attempt to hold back the first sneeze—usually with limited success, as it only seems to make the subsequent ones more explosive.

How loud are their sneezes?

Vee’s sneezes are extremely loud and dramatic. They start out rapid-fire, becoming progressively weaker and higher-pitched, but the final sneeze in his fit always explodes out of him like a roar. Even in a crowded area, his sneezes draw attention, much to his embarrassment.

What do they sneeze into?

Vee almost always sneezes against his wrist or into his elbow, quickly bringing his arm up to stifle the force and avoid drawing too much attention. However, his sneezes are so rapid-fire and powerful that by the final sneeze of a fit, he often drops his arm, unable to maintain his composure, and sneezes freely toward the floor with sheer force.

How often do they sneeze?

Vee sneezes occasionally on most days, usually when exposed to specific triggers like dust, mold, or seasonal allergens. On a normal day, he might sneeze a couple of times in the morning and once or twice throughout the afternoon. However, if he's in a dusty venue, a moldy building, or during allergy season, the frequency increases significantly, and he might have sneezing fits every 10 to 15 minutes.

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

Vee always sneezes in rapid-fire fits of at least 4 to 6 sneezes. These fits are almost rhythmic, with each sneeze becoming weaker and shorter until he runs out of breath, forcing him to gasp deeply before the final, thunderous sneeze.

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

Vee’s sneezes almost always have a dramatic build-up. His breath will hitch visibly, his nostrils twitching and flaring, as he fans a hand in front of his face or tilts his head toward a light source to coax the sneeze out.

Example:
“Hehh… hihh!... hehh-hehh!...” (pause, trembling) “Hh’ISH!-iSHh! ish!-shh! ……. HH’EISSHHhh’iew!”

Do they sneeze in public?

Yes, and he hates it. While he tries to suppress the volume by covering or turning away, the fits are too intense to completely mask. He avoids public places when his allergies are bad, but sometimes he can’t help it—especially in crowded, dusty venues like concert halls or old buildings.

Some examples of their sneezes?

eishh!-ishh!-ish!-’shh!... —hehhHH-EESSSHHHhhuh!

Sneeze Trivia:

Vee’s sneezes are as dramatic and intense as his personality. They always come in rapid, breathless bursts, leaving him visibly winded by the end. The sneezes start with sharp, rapid-fire expulsions—short, clipped sounds that grow progressively weaker and higher-pitched as his lungs run out of air. The final sneeze always erupts with a thunderous force, his entire body jerking forward as though the sneeze has physically knocked the air out of him. It's impossible to ignore and has a way of startling everyone nearby, including himself.

Vee has a habit of announcing when he’s about to sneeze, regardless of the situation. Whether in casual conversation or mid-performance, you can expect a rushed, “Ah, hang on—gonna sneeze—!” as his hand flutters dramatically in front of his face. His photic sneeze reflex kicks in almost instinctively, his blue green eyes darting to the nearest light source as his breath hitches and his head tilts back.

Vee’s stubborn personality often leads him to try and power through his sneezes in conversation, much to everyone’s amusement. His voice gets progressively more breathy and strained as the sneezes take over, words breaking apart until they’re nothing but unintelligible gasps before the fit finally erupts and silences him. He’ll pick up the conversation exactly where he left off, usually with a sheepish sniffle and a dry remark about how obnoxious his sneezes are.

Though he outwardly tries to appear unaffected, Vee secretly doesn’t mind being taken care of when he’s sick. Having someone fuss over him, bring him tea, or bless him after his sneezes makes him feel a little less like the universe is against him. Of course, he’ll never admit this—it’s far too vulnerable for someone like him—but his softened expression and quiet gratitude in those moments say it all.

Backstory —

Vaelyn Hawthorne was born into a family of immense wealth and influence, known across Hiraeth for their bloodline ability, Oblivion's Grasp. This dark power allowed them to trap others in nightmarish illusions, manipulating their perception of time and reality. It was a gift that brought both prestige and fear, as its overuse often led to a degenerative mental condition known as Oblivion Madness. Despite this grim legacy, Vee grew up carefree, scoffing at the "curse" that had consumed his ancestors. 
The Hawthornes were close allies of the Fangs, and Vaelyn's childhood was filled with family gatherings and lavish political events where the two families mingled. From the moment Rexar and Vaelyn met, they were inseparable. Whether they were causing mischief at Fang barbecues or sneaking off during formal dinners, the two became known for their chaotic camaraderie. Their shared love of music deepened their bond, and as teenagers, they decided to channel their energy into starting a band: Toad Biscuit.

The band began as a joke—a way for Rexar and Vee to escape their family legacies and just have fun. However, their charisma and musical talent quickly gained traction, and what started as a hobby turned into a full-fledged career. Vee’s stage presence was electric, and his charm drew fans in droves. With Rexar's infectious energy and Vee's intense magnetism, the duo became a sensation, rocketing Toad Biscuit into fame.
Despite their success, cracks began to form beneath the surface. Vee’s pride in his abilities and his dismissive attitude toward his family’s warnings about Oblivion Madness set him on a dangerous path. His insistence on pushing his limits caused tension between him and Rexar, leading to more frequent arguments.

By the time Vee reached his early 20s, he began experiencing the early symptoms of Oblivion Madness. It started small: whispers in the dark, shadowy figures in his peripheral vision. But as time went on, the auditory and visual hallucinations grew more vivid, and Vee’s paranoia began to consume him. Still, his cocky nature wouldn’t allow him to admit that he was spiraling. Instead, he doubled down on using his abilities, determined to prove that he was different from his ancestors.
Rexar noticed the change in his best friend, but every attempt to talk to him was met with defensiveness or outright hostility. The arguments between them became explosive, leaving both hurt and frustrated. Vee's paranoia made him believe that even Rexar was against him, and he started pulling away, isolating himself from everyone who cared about him.

On the day of Toad Biscuit’s ill-fated concert, Vee arrived late, disheveled and clearly not himself. He was lost in a deep state of psychosis, haunted by a guttural voice that hissed incessantly about the "end of days." Throughout the performance, his erratic behavior put Rexar on edge. When Vee dropped his guitar pick mid-song, Rexar covered for him, but the tension was palpable.

Unbeknownst to Rexar, Vee had planned a surprise pyrotechnic effect as an "ace in the hole" for their show. In his deteriorating mental state, he had failed to install the device correctly. Trying to save face after fumbling his performance, Vee activated the pyrotechnics to distract the audience. The result was catastrophic—a massive fire engulfed the venue, leading to the deaths of three people. 
Amid the smoke and chaos, Rexar saw Vee wandering aimlessly, trapped in a deep psychotic episode known as a Blight. In his mind, Vee was fleeing from Oblivion, the manifestation of his worst fears. Rexar tried to reach him, but Vee disappeared into the night.

When Vee snapped back to reality the next day, he was horrified to learn of the fire and its consequences. Reading Rexar's frantic text messages and piecing together the damage he had caused, the weight of his actions was unbearable. Rather than face Rexar or his family, Vee went into hiding, abandoning everything he had built with Toad Biscuit. 
Unable to completely leave his passion for music behind, Vee reentered the industry under the pseudonym VE-NUMB. As a faceless producer, he crafted beats and collaborated with artists anonymously, pouring his pain and regret into his work. Though he avoided the public eye, his influence in the music scene grew, and his hauntingly beautiful compositions earned him a cult following.


Vee’s betrayal and disappearance left a permanent scar on Rexar and the Fangs. For Vee, it marked the beginning of a life spent in the shadows, grappling with the remnants of his humanity and the curse of Oblivion Madness. Though he never reached out to Rexar again, his music serves as a quiet homage to their friendship and the dreams they once shared

Reference Sheet —

[shsl-steppingstone]

i think izuru could be like a cat… i dunno he gives me black cat energy. stares at you. big eyes. eyes that probably glow when light hits them and his pupils probably expand when hes happy (hes never happy so you cant say with 100% certainty they dont… 50/50 chance). i bet he shows what little affection he has by slow blinking. just sprawls out on your lap or whatever. probably pushes stuff off the counter just because. do you see the vision

Yes, I indeed see the vision! He doesn’t really have any concept of personal space, which I believe is quite catlike. In fact, when we first met, he put his hand on my waist before shooting me! He finds a lot of social customs to be meaningless.

Adding onto that point, he’s able to harm others without a slight hint of regret, which is something I’ve heard that cats do! Though, cats probably don’t usher the world into another dark age. Disappointing, huh?

I find it ironic that black cats are symbols of bad luck while Kamukura is quite the opposite. That is where they differ the most, I believe… unless you’re on the side that he decided to oppose that day, then you’re in trouble… So I suppose they’re similar in that regard too?

[amoristt]

since you write for dbd now, can you write a drabble about frank (legion) finding reader in the trials, he used to know her and had feelings for her? can be dubcon/nsfw/sfw whatever you want!

yes yes yes ye sye sye sys yes

- gn! reader . NSFW . noncon referenced but if there's a continuation it'll be dubcon! - as always comments/reblogs are appreciated! - want to support me? heres my kofi!

Run, Rabbit | Frank Morrison/Reader

You don't know how it happened.

One moment, you're at work, mindlessly sweeping the floors of the supermarket you worked at like all the other drones employees around you. Time was ticking by astronomically slow and a part of you just wanted to throw your broom down and waltz out. Money be damned.

The last memory you could recall was heading towards the supply room to retrieve cleaning supplies and then… Nothing.

Nothing, and then, it was cold. It was damp, with harsh winds ruffling the fabric of your work uniform. You were outside standing in the middle of what looked like a road that had definitely seen some better days. The streetlight over head flickered in spasms and offered little light. From what you could make out, with narrowed eyes and dilating pupils, you seem to have found yourself planted in the middle of an abandoned town.

Kidnaping had crossed your mind, along with a million other horrific thoughts.

Would anyone even know where to look for you?

With little exploring along the looming walls of the 'town' you found what seemed to be a massive, electric gate. No power, and no way to climb out, so you took to exploring the town further. A certain… Dread filled you.

You couldn't put your finger on it but you swore you were being watched.

Feeling more prey than human you sauntered about, and used what little technician knowledge you'd learned over the years to tinker with generators in the hopes of powering your escape. It had been going well- until it wasn't. One wrong wire and boom. You were off like a bat out of hell.

The way your blood turned to ice when you heard a second set of footsteps behind you was criminal.

Heart in your throat, your fight or flight pumping shockwaves of adrenaline through your veins, your lungs heaving as you ran without even daring to lookback. You didn't have to. Awful, evil energy chased you- practically nipped at your heels. Mind screaming, eyes searching in desperation for somewhere to hide, you could have cried when you found yourself trapped in a corner of those tall, tall walls. Only then did you whip around to face your attacker.

A white, dirty mask adorned by a tall skinny figure has your breath hitching in your throat.

---

Frank could have jumped for joy when he heard the delightful sound of an explosion merely yards away. It was like Christmas day- like a gift from god. His blade was hungry in his hand, his eyes searching through the familiar darkness for the survivor.

Excitement vibrated on his skin when he saw the faintest form of a figure in the mist.

His pace picked up, and he gained on you faster than you'd thought possible. In mere moments he was less than a foot away, practically able to reach out, grab your hair and rip you to his feet. But, Frank's always found he loves the chase. He lets you get a couple feet on him, he lets you think you have a chance.

He lets you run yourself into a corner like a frightened rabbit.

And god, when you turn to look at him, with those big doe-like eyes and a trembling lower lip, he knows why the Entity had brought him here. He takes a pause of appreciation for a few seconds while you stumble backwards. When your feet hit the wall behind you, he drinks in your appearance, clicks his tongue tauntingly, and twirls his blade in his hands. Your fear ridden voice reaches him like a song.

A song that he finds himself… Recognizing.

From behind his mask, he narrows his eyes. He knows you- he's sure of it. Somehow…

It clicks somewhere in his brain when he really looks at you- past the fear, past the shaking fingers and the sheen of sweat over your skin. A wiry smile forms on his lips and he can't help but laugh to himself deep in his chest. The sound brings waves of terror that he can see course through you.

Years it's been since he's last seen you, he thinks. He'd been in this place for so long he isn't even sure. Maybe it was years, maybe it was decades, even. All he knew was that no matter how long it had been, you were here now, standing before him and completely at his non-existent mercy. He'd always been fond of you since he'd met you in Ormond. You were a free thinker, treading on the darker side of the moon just like him. You saw the cracks in humanity, saw the world through his very same lenses.

He loved your fiery spirit, your impenetrable will.

And, most of all, he loved how he just knew he could tear it all down.

But he'd never got the chance. Your parents had damn near grabbed you by the scruff of your neck and dragged you to a different, safer city once they'd learned the types of people their child had been hanging out with. The types of influences you'd been around. He'd always felt a strange, out of place sadness at never even getting to figure out where you'd been taken.

Or maybe it wasn't so much sadness, as it was disappointment he hadn't really gotten the chance to corrupt you.

You were the one that got away.

Until now, that was. Because now you were here practically fucking gift wrapped for him, like the Entity was rewarding him for his devious behavior.

You're watching every movement he makes, pupils searching frantically for his line of sight, hands clasped at your heaving chest. It make's him giddy.

Frank can't hold back the snarky laugh that escapes him when he takes in your outfit, noting the corporate companies logo. If only your past self could see you now, they'd be sorely disappointed. But, surely that didn't matter. Not now.

Smoothly, he dangles his knife out to his side, before he lets it go. It thuds to the ground, abandoned. It offers little comfort to you, he notices, seeing your worried expression eye the knife before trailing back up to his mask. If he had a little more decency, he'd feel almost a bit bad for you. But, he doesn't, so… He doesn't.

After all, why deny himself of something he'd always wanted?

His figure looms over yours, a light behind him casting a deep shadow over your shrinking form. The outline of you vibrates as you shake fiercely before him. His fingers twitch to touch you, and something below his belt does too. His blood is hot under his skin as he imagines all of the things he wants to do you.

A part of Frank wants to rush in- tear away the layers of clothing keeping you covered and collapsing your shaking knees to the dirt, rip at your hair and force you to choke him down. Or, perhaps, use his trusty knife to drag weeping lines down your exposed flesh, have you cry out and squirm underneath him. The thought makes him shiver in need.

Or, he could take his time. A bit unlike him, sure, but this was a special occasion.

He could play it slow, drag the pads of his fingers up your arms, to the dips of your collar bones. Witness every last goosebumps in it's wake.

He could flatten the palms of his hands and slide it up your shirt until you're the one trying to take it off. Trace the outline of your arousal through your thin underwear until those terrified shakes turn into ones of want. And he knows he could do it, too.

Oh, he could work you until you're practically begging for him to take you.

Mind racing, eager arousal bubbling within him, he brings a hand up to your face and pats your cheek before he flattens his palm against your flesh. It's dewy, hot.

Soft.

Gently, he caresses you, thump rubbing saccharine circles into your skin. You barely flinch away, eyes fixated on him with a panting breath ghosting past your lips.

Frank grins to himself.

Talk about fun.

[annabelle-creart]

Transformers Rescue Bots Au: Valley of the Sacred

Yes... I made another au :'D

You'll see, I was having a conversation with Amy and then she said how she liked the trope of Heroe and Redeemed Villain living happily together and then, the actual reason of the Au became to make old man yaoi of Heatwave and Boulder leaving the past behind :v

But let me explain it first also because, dammit, I have so many things to say about worldbuilding!

Valley of the Sacred is an Au that as looked at the first fic in this #, is both inspired in fantasy related to stars and medieval-settings

Is basically if the Aaravos (Dragon Prince) x Mandrake (Bluesky's Epic) crossover had a child with Adventure Bots Au, and that child decided to have a baby with the child of my Humanformers: Kingdom of Light Au and 13 Primes Au, but H:KoL and 13 Primes divorced and now the new dad is the From Stars and Above Au

...yeah... kind of weird, but I promise I can explain

Many years ago...

When the blue sun of Cybertron took care of its children and Primes, a whole new species declared the war. The Quintessons, a species who grew on hate and betrayed their creator, took over Cybertron, they were slaved, used and abused, but against the story you may know, the way Cybertronians had to deal with slavery was to escape

The Primes, despite their love for their father, didn't had another but too kill its spark, take a bit of what remained and went away with the cybertronians in big space ships and went as far away as possible, killing the Quintessons that were on that planet and erasing everything related to Cybertron, so, they could never find them, later they found a lonely planet, still on its first days

Using the remaining of the Allspark and using Unicron's blood on its favor, they accelerated this new planet's process and adapted it for Cybertronians to live, bio-forming it, and for Cybertronians to live with more comfort, Primes changed Cybertronian frames for them to be tinier, to look more of what humans could be if they could get Earth, now named Terraquia, and the new Cybertronians that were made from the new Allspark, Terrans

Since then, Primes were see as kings, Unicron's names got reformed and Primus was view as savior

And with time, patience and the new tech, Terraquia became a place of peace, changing their calendars and creating new constelations, domesticating the new life the place offered and building cities to live

And then, the Star came...

The Shooting Star

One day, a shooting star crossed the sky, brillaint, vibrant, full of light and color

The next day, a spark came out of the Well of Sparks, a really strange one, it was colored of purple and blue instead of the usual white, and when they inserted it on a new body, the frame inmediatly changed, white freckles like constalations and colorful optics with white pupils, plus, they also gained strange powers, these new bots weren't as powerful as the old magicians that trained under the Primes' mentorship but were capable of do and create spells, these new bots, who appeared on one per ten sparks, were called "star-touched" because their power was associated with the stars and was believed the Star was a gift of the deceased Primes themselves

Star-Touched

They are normal bots, but they are characterized by their white pupils with colorful optics and the colored freckles on their frames, optics can be any color but freckles can be light blue, deep purple or pure white, in some cases, they're surrounded by nebula-like painting

They develop mysterious powers, like Outliers and mages do in other universes, but these are far less powerful than the mentioned. All except the Black Hole Magician

Inspired by Neo-medieval and Solar-punk, this world tries to live peacefully with nature, using energy that can be easily obtained by nature, so, they don't have to over-exploit Energon's resources, which are low in comparation with Old Cybertron, but with the new resources to combine, now it will last vorns and vorns and vorns... plus, the fact that Terrans are as big as a human makes it easier to survive

The Primes

Primus was once the father, and it still is, it is said he sacrificied his own spark to protect Cybertronians, and then used his own spark to create life at Terraquia, forgiving his brother, Unicron, and working together for the sake of their own children

It is said too that Unicron, like his brother, decided to end his own cycle of destruction and became the new home of now Terrans, which is the reason why it is told to be a savior now

Prima and Megatronus were the oldest and the youngest, they dedicated their lives to protect their Terrans and became also their most trusted rulers

Solus, Alpha Trion, Vector and Alchemist dedicated to save and guard all the knowledge and teached the new Cybertronians and Terrans, so they could survive on their own, they're the most devoted on Temples and it is said they created the Valley of the Sacred

Liege Maximo, Onyx and Quintus were explorers, despite they didn't passed much time on Terraquia, they are devoted because they're the reason of the Star-Touched connection with stars, it is said they were the most spiritual ones and they're the most devoted by Star-Touched and witches

Micronus, Amalgamous and Nexus were the most emotional, it is said Micronus and Nexus, thanks to their condition of Spark connected with their brothers and sisters, and Amalgamous for its variated personality were able to notice any change in the dynamic, at these days they're worshipped as Family advisors and protector of Spark-bonded

And Thirtheen? Is still a Mystery

World

Most of houses are low but well equiped and the biggest buildings are places of work or culture exchanges like festivals, parties, schools and museums

Because cities and little towns are far away from each other, one can use trains, but unfortunately, they are not cheap, so, bots prefer to walk or go on simple carriages sometimes

The planet is divided by six regions separated by the sea: Crystal Land (America), New Iacon (Europa and Asia), New Kaon (Oceania), Tarnite (Africa), North Icelands (Artic) and South Icelands (Antartic)

Nonetheless, the peace... moves

Zeta is technically no Prime, but he makes sure the planet is in order, he's not the best of people, a bloodlust in some cases, but at the end of the day is his hard servo what keeps everything on check, and is capable to do everything on his servo to keep said peace, to the point of destroying an entire city in name of that peace, the elite guard and enforcers always makes sure things stay on place, and Ereska is a good example of it

Ereska

The incident of Ereska is the name the people gave to the sad night an entire city was burned to ashes because of an explosion, a miner and farmer city that one day decided to unionize and... ended up wrong

The official version is that the energon mine colapsed and that produced a big, terrible explosion

But Boulder knows that's not true

The problem is that Boulder doesn't know much either about what actually happened

A relic, basically, an old brillaint magical sword that can be easily used by the owner, it contains light itself but not a mind, so, it doesn't choose its owner

Stories

Stories, legends and tales are the principal form of education in Terraquia, they show love, tell the sparklings and trasmit knowlegde through them, it is the base of society, which makes writers, teachers and narrators the simplest but the most respected professions through the land, stories and legends are a deep part of their culture, and is because of their oral and written tradition that they have succeed this far as culture and as community, that's another reason why adventurers are so respected too

The Light Sword

Heatwave is kind of stupid for thinking he was choose, he was not, he's just an idiot that knows how to use it, barely

The Black Hole Magician

It is said it is a spirit made of darkness with only white optics and black pupils, that steals powerful artifacts and tricks and kills its victims with forbidden spells, but its name comes from its ability to absorb sparks and objects, like a real black hole...

But it's just an urban legend

Or not?

Valley of the Sacred

It is said it was a Valley on the other side of the nothing, its montains and rivers are pure and each animal has their own way to be part of the cycle of life, there, a temple with all the story of Cybertronians and Terrans and all the artifacts and legends are put on paper and on its inmaculated walls

Valley of the Sacred is the perfect, beautiful place that protects the temple and their infinity knowledge, it is said every question can be answered there

But is is just a legend, nobody had found anything like that on life

Nonetheless, based on that story, and their own experiences, the Library Valley of the Sacred got its name

And yes, the name of the Au is because of a Library