#but then there's nothing of course because it was deleted so go figure

[backwzzds]

can we talk about how konig would be someone who’s quiet when he gets jealous…then when y’all get home he js absolutely goes HAMMMM….

the way i got so excited to write this…it’s actually way longer than i intended but idgaf! part 2 soon 😏

NO BC YOU LITERALLY WOULDNT GET HOW HE’D BE SO QUIET LIKE ???

“papa, i don’t understand what i did wrong,” you’d frown at your man with an annoyed whine. könig, who was a whooping 6’10 would only give you a heavy grunt in response. you’d be on the way back to his car from the mall, dozens of your victoria’s secret and H&M bags held in his visibly large hand. the moment könig reached before you (with help of his tree-like long legs anyway), he opened the door for you, the balaclava on his face making his features ten times harder.

no matter how mad the big bear was at you—or more so, what you happened to get yourself involved in—he’d never disrespect you. anything other than sexually, at least. stepping on the custom made step for your smaller figure, you slide into the huge seat of his completely blacked out bmw suv, allowing him to shut the door behind you. you nearly jump at the visible shake of the car beneath your bottom.

you play with your curls as könig carefully sets your bags on the floor behind your seat. because his was set all the way back to accommodate for his long legs, your seat had the better amount of space for your things. when könig finally got back in the car, he immediately started it, causing the monsterous growl of his deleted muffler to come alive.

and he wouldn’t even break a sweat at you !!! you’re over here going over all your actions for the day, step by step, and all könig could think through his mind was what positions he was gonna force you in when you two got back home.

the sound of könig’s car matched the energy that was coursing through his veins. he know you didn’t do anything wrong; not intentionally at least. but the selfish ass part of him wanted nothing more than for your pretty little ass to sit in the passenger’s seat, overthinking on what the fuck you possibly could have done to rile him up this much.

the ride home is everlastingly silent as the small of your voice breaks the thick tension, “baby,” you don’t know how to further articulate your words. “i know you’re mad at me. i wanna fix it, but i can’t it you won’t talk to me. and you’ve been dead ass silent since we been in the mall.”

könig keeps his cool, though. he knew his silence was practically eating at you alive, shaming you with guilt for something you didn’t even intentionally mean to do. but with the way your pretty body sits in the black skims dress you’re in, accompanied by your black and white dunks—his eyes could practically frame your nipples right through the see through fabric, and he was sure that fucking doorman at victoria’s secret could have as well.

you keep talking. “was it the dude at VS? i swear, i made it very known that you were my man and—“ your words are endless blabber to him as the disgusting and pervasive thoughts cloud könig’s mind.

he looks so sexy in his balaclava, protecting his face from the harsh upcoming winter temperatures. he’s sported in an all black outfit, helplessly matching yours. anyone who saw you two together would automatically know that was your man. i mean duh, he walks around with his hand on your ass protectively 99% of the time.

when you get the sense that the brute isn’t listening to a fucking word you’re saying, you let out a frustrated sigh and turn your body away from him. but the sudden placement of a large hand on your knee takes you by surprise as you eye the man who’s ice blue eyes refuse to falter from the darkening road before you.

the moment könig pulls up in the driveway of your shared home, you can’t help but twiddle with the polish on your acrylics. anxiousness is bouncing off you, and könig could tell. you turn your head and open your mouth to speak, only to be cut off for the first time that night.

“go inside.” könig’s voice is very low, but you don’t miss the command in it. there’s no emotion behind the dark eyes of his balaclava. usually you could decipher exactly what and how he was feeling, but in the moment—

“kö—“ your boyfriend’s snow blue eyes harden at your talk back. with softer features, you whisper, “will you be inside?”

“soon. need to make a call first,” you watch him pull out a fresh cigar pack. “be ready for me when i get in.” you open your mouth to talk back again, but wire it shut when könig lovingly grabs your face. leaning in so the pink of his lips ghost over your full brown ones, he whispers, “now, mama. i won’t ask again. can you listen to that one thing for me?”

with a small gulp, you give him pretty doe eyes, feeling between your legs tingle at his masculinity radiating onto you. in the most confident voice you could muster up, you nod your pretty head at him. “yes daddy.”

könig gives you a nod of approval and runs his hand along the curve of your ass. “good girl. go on, liebling.”

you exit the huge car, already getting idea of what was to come when könig came back inside. with a heavy heart, you head upstairs to your room and slowly begin undressing, hoping that the slower you went, the more your punishment would be delayed.

your hopes were proven to be false the minute you were completely naked and turned around to see könig leaning against the threshold of the door, silently watching you.

you jump in fear at the sudden sight in front of you, but feel your heart beat calm down when könig strolled over to you. naturally, your head tilted backward as a way to get a full view of his face. his balaclava remained on, so you knew he was still upset about the events from earlier.

könig takes his large hand and rests it on your cheek, giving it a comforting rub. “you know i love you and respect you more than anything on this earth, right?” the brown of your skin instantly heat up at his words as you slowly nod your head at his sudden expression, unsure of where he was going with his words. könig’s lips can’t help but lightly turn upward into a small smile. you had no idea what was gonna come.

“good. because for today, libeling, i’m gonna fuck you like you mean absolutely nothing to me.”

[cei1ne]

—You suffer from anemia yet your boyfriends as supportive as ever, just in his own way

დ .•*”Summary: You suffer from anemia but you don’t let it stop you from becoming a hero, yet, your boyfriend’s a stubborn mess and forced you to rest.

༺ღ༒Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Anemic!Reader

☆࿐ཽ༵Tags: High school; Relationship; UA; GN!Reader

＊*•̩̩͙Warnings: Cursing?; Anemia; Overprotective boyfriend

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳Word count: 3.8k

‧͙⁺˚*･A/N: Someone requested this but it was anonymous and my tumblr was bugging lately! It just got deleted but I still had lots of fun writing this and I hope you’ll have just as much fun reading this! And I didn’t know if they meant headcanons or Scenario so I just did both!

Headcanons: Katsuki Bakugou x GN!Anemic!Reader

1. Worry Masked by Irritation: Bakugou would constantly mask his concern for your condition by pretending to be annoyed. He’d grumble about you being “too weak” but would secretly go above and beyond to ensure you’re healthy.

2. Diet Control Freak: He’d take control of your meals, researching iron-rich foods and sneaking them into your diet. If you tried to resist, he’d shove a plate at you with a snarky remark like, “Eat this before I lose it.”

3. Hyper Awareness: Bakugou would become hyper-aware of your signs of fatigue or dizziness. If you so much as swayed while standing, he’d immediately drag you to sit down.

4. Loud Protector: If anyone dared to tease or question you about your condition, he’d explode (figuratively and maybe literally). “You got something to say?! Say it to me!”

5. Gentle in Private: Though Bakugou is explosive in public, in private, he’d show softer affection. He’d tuck blankets around you, carry you to bed if you overexerted yourself, and grumble softly, “Don’t push yourself, idiot.”

6. Hates Seeing You Weak: Seeing you too tired to get up genuinely unnerves him. He’d pace, bark orders, and eventually sit by your side, silently holding your hand.

7. Acts of Service: Bakugou would do small things like fetching water, helping you stand, or taking on your chores. Of course, he’d act like it’s no big deal. “You’re lucky I’m not a total asshole, huh?”

8. Research Master: He’d secretly learn about anemia from every available resource and even consult Recovery Girl or doctors. He wouldn’t tell you about it, though; he’d just start doing things that showed he knew what he was talking about.

9. Training Adjustment: He’d modify training sessions for you, subtly encouraging you to take breaks without making you feel weak. He might even offer to spar lightly to “keep you on your toes.”

10. Blunt Reassurance: If you ever felt self-conscious about your condition, Bakugou would bluntly shut you down. “You’re not weak. You’re mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Rest is for the Weak (But Not for You)

The morning started like any other. The dorms buzzed with activity as Class 1-A prepared for the day ahead. You had been one of the first to wake, though not because you were particularly eager. A familiar heaviness sat on your chest, and your limbs felt as though they were weighed down by lead.

It was nothing new. This was your normal.

“Y/N, you doing okay?” Mina’s cheerful voice rang out as she caught sight of you rubbing your temples. “You look kinda pale.”

You gave her a small smile, brushing it off. “I’m fine. Just a bit tired.”

“You sure? I can grab you something from the cafeteria real quick if you need it!”

“Thanks, Mina, but I’m good,” you said firmly, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself.

She hesitated but eventually nodded, skipping off to join the others. As you gathered your things and headed toward the training grounds, you could feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you.

Turning your head, you locked eyes with Bakugou.

He didn’t say anything, but his narrowed eyes and furrowed brow made it clear he’d heard the exchange. You pretended not to notice and hurried to catch up with the others, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.

_________________________________

The training session was supposed to be routine—a series of combat drills designed to test reflexes and stamina. You had been paired with Midoriya for a sparring match, something that usually wouldn’t faze you.

But today, every movement felt sluggish. Your punches lacked their usual strength, and your dodges were just a fraction too slow. Midoriya, ever the observant one, noticed almost immediately.

“Y/N, are you sure you’re feeling okay?” he asked, concern etched into his face as he blocked one of your weak punches.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, dodging to the side as he retaliated.

But the dizziness was getting worse. Your vision blurred at the edges, and the sound of your own heartbeat roared in your ears.

“Y/N—”

“Stop holding back!” you snapped, cutting him off.

Midoriya flinched but complied, though his hits were clearly pulled. You hated it—hated the pity in his eyes, the way he seemed afraid to fight you properly. You wanted to prove you could keep up, that you weren’t a liability.

And then your knees buckled.

_________________________________

“Oi! What the hell are you doing, Deku?!”

Bakugou’s voice rang out across the gym, loud enough to make everyone pause. You barely registered the sound of his boots stomping across the floor before he was standing between you and Midoriya, his crimson eyes blazing.

“I-It wasn’t his fault—” you started, but Bakugou cut you off with a sharp glare.

“Shut it, dumbass,” he growled before turning back to Midoriya. “What the hell were you thinking, letting them push themselves like that?”

Midoriya opened his mouth to respond but quickly decided against it, his expression shifting to one of resignation.

“And you,” Bakugou snarled, rounding on you. “What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve hurt yourself!”

“I’m fine!” you snapped, trying to push past him.

But Bakugou wasn’t having it. He grabbed your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.

“You’re not fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re done. Sit down before you pass out.”

_________________________________

Bakugou practically dragged you to the edge of the gym, ignoring your protests as he deposited you on a bench. The other students watched from a distance, their whispered conversations filling the air.

“Bakugou, you’re overreacting,” you muttered, crossing your arms as he crouched in front of you.

“Overreacting, my ass,” he shot back, his tone sharp. “You’re pale as shit, and you can’t even stand up straight. Don’t lie to me, Y/N.”

You glared at him, but the dizziness made it hard to keep your head up. Bakugou noticed immediately and let out an irritated sigh.

“Tch. Stay here,” he ordered before stomping off.

When he returned a few minutes later, he was carrying a water bottle and a protein bar. He shoved them at you without a word, his scowl deepening when you hesitated.

“Eat. Drink. Now,” he barked.

“Bakugou, I don’t need—”

“Don’t argue with me, dumbass!” he snapped, his voice louder than necessary. “Just do it!”

You flinched but complied, taking small sips of water and nibbling on the protein bar.

________________________________

When the session ended, Bakugou didn’t give you a choice about walking back to the dorms together. He hovered close, his sharp eyes scanning you for any signs of weakness.

“You didn’t have to walk me back,” you muttered, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment.

“Shut up. You’re lucky I didn’t carry your ass,” he shot back.

The two of you walked in silence for a while, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife. But as you reached the dorms, Bakugou’s voice softened.

“You need to take care of yourself, Y/N,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.

You glanced at him, surprised by the shift in his demeanor. “I do take care of myself.”

“Bullshit,” he muttered. “If you did, I wouldn’t have to babysit you all the damn time.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the exhaustion caught up with you, and you leaned against the wall for support.

Bakugou was at your side in an instant, his hand on your arm as he steadied you.

“See? This is exactly what I’m talking about,” he grumbled. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good.”

_________________________________

Once inside your room, Bakugou made himself at home, pulling a chair up beside your bed as you sat down.

“You’re not staying,” you said, giving him a tired look.

“Like hell I’m not,” he retorted, crossing his arms. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t do something stupid.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re an idiot,” he shot back, though there was no real heat behind his words.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the tension gradually fading as the weight of the day settled over you. Bakugou’s presence, as much as you hated to admit it, was comforting.

_________________________________

The silence in your dorm room was a strange thing. Bakugou wasn’t one to enjoy stillness, yet here he was, sitting in your chair like he belonged there, arms crossed as he glared at the wall. The occasional sound of his foot tapping against the floor was the only thing breaking the quiet.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” you said finally, unable to take the tension anymore.

“Too bad,” he replied curtly.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “You’re seriously overreacting. I just got a little dizzy.”

He turned his sharp gaze on you, the intensity in his crimson eyes making you freeze. “A little dizzy? You couldn’t even finish training without almost eating shit in front of everyone.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” you muttered, looking away.

“I’m not saying it to piss you off, dumbass,” he snapped, leaning forward slightly. “I’m saying it because you’re being reckless.”

You stared at him, surprised by the raw frustration in his voice. Katsuki Bakugou was never one to sugarcoat his words, but there was something different about the way he spoke to you now—like he was genuinely afraid for you.

“I just don’t want to hold anyone back,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Bakugou’s expression softened for a moment, though his scowl quickly returned. “You’re not holding anyone back,” he said firmly. “You think I give a crap if you can’t keep up sometimes? You’re not weak, Y/N.”

The words caught you off guard. You’d always thought Bakugou saw weakness as unforgivable, that he’d look down on anyone who couldn’t match his relentless energy. Hearing him say otherwise left you speechless.

“Tch. Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. “I’m just telling the truth. Now shut up and rest.”

_________________________________

Despite Bakugou’s insistence that you stay in bed, word of your condition had spread among your classmates, and it wasn’t long before a few of them came knocking.

“Y/N! Are you okay?” Mina burst into the room, her usual enthusiasm dampened by concern. She carried a small bag of snacks, which she set on your bedside table with a flourish.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, offering her a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, they’re fine,” Bakugou interjected from his seat, his voice dripping with irritation. “Now get out.”

“Bakugou, be nice!” Kirishima appeared behind Mina, giving his friend a pointed look before turning to you. “We just wanted to check on you, Y/N. You scared us a little back there.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you said, guilt creeping into your tone. “I just… overdid it.”

“You think?” Bakugou muttered under his breath.

Kirishima chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, we’re glad you’re okay. Just take it easy, all right? And don’t let Bakugou boss you around too much.”

“Too late for that,” you joked, earning a glare from Bakugou.

After a few more minutes of chatting, Mina and Kirishima finally left, though not without a promise to check in on you again later. As soon as the door closed, Bakugou let out an irritated huff.

“They don’t know when to leave,” he grumbled.

“They’re just worried,” you said, leaning back against the pillows. “You don’t have to be so rude.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t need a damn audience while I’m trying to take care of you,” he shot back.

You raised an eyebrow. “Trying to take care of me? Is that what this is?”

“Shut up,” he muttered, his cheeks flushing again.

_________________________________

That night, long after Bakugou had begrudgingly left your room, you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. His words from earlier echoed in your mind.

“You’re not weak, Y/N.”

It was such a simple statement, yet it meant more to you than you could explain. For as long as you could remember, you’d been battling the fear that your anemia made you a burden. You hated the idea of being someone others had to take care of.

But Bakugou didn’t see you that way.

You weren’t sure when he’d started paying such close attention to you, but his protectiveness was undeniable. It was infuriating at times, but it also warmed your heart in a way you couldn’t ignore.

_________________________________

When you woke the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the smell of food.

Groggily sitting up, you saw Bakugou standing by your desk, a tray of breakfast in his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice still heavy with sleep.

“What’s it look like?” he replied, setting the tray down on your lap. “You’re eating before training today.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You made this?”

“Don’t sound so shocked,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. “It’s just eggs and toast. Not like I cooked a five-star meal.”

You couldn’t help but smile as you picked up your fork. “Thanks, Bakugou.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, looking away. “Just don’t make me regret it.”

As you ate, you noticed how he lingered by the door, his usual impatience replaced by something softer.

“Are you gonna watch me the whole time?” you teased.

“Maybe,” he shot back.

_________________________________

Over the next few weeks, Bakugou’s concern for you became an undeniable part of your routine. He started carrying snacks and water bottles with him during training, shoving them at you whenever he thought you looked tired. He adjusted his own training schedule to keep an eye on you, even if it meant sparring with someone else so he could watch from a distance.

And while he never outright said it, his actions spoke volumes.

One day, after a particularly exhausting training session, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the gym, your legs dangling over the side as you tried to catch your breath. Bakugou appeared beside you, handing you a cold water bottle without a word.

“Thanks,” you said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip.

“Tch. Don’t mention it,” he muttered, sitting down next to you.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, the sounds of the gym fading into the background. It was moments like this that reminded you just how much Bakugou cared, even if he’d never admit it.

“You’re not weak, you know,” he said suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.

“Thanks, Katsuki,” you said quietly, using his first name for the first time in weeks.

He didn’t say anything, but the faint smile that tugged at his lips was enough.

[miclipse]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ princess & the fish.

pairing: rafayel x fem! reader

synopsis: rafayel’s dream of turning into a human had miraculously come true! but things didn't turn out like he had expected…

word count: 3.7k

cw: afab! reader, rafayel is a fish (literally, but he turns into a human), reader is a princess, nicknames used (princess, your highness), rafayel struggling to walk with legs, rafayel hates toes, very slight and brief abysswalker! rafayel reference (just one line), reader finds rafayel half-naked in her room, fluff

dt: everyone that wanted fishy rafayel (aka fifi) to turn into a human + the person in my asks asking if i was continuing this.

note: reupload because apparently my post didn’t show up in the tags :( but unfortunately that means the ask got deleted as well, sorry anon :(

likes reblogs & comments appreciated! <3

this all had to be a dream, right?

…actually, no. this was most definitely a nightmare, if anything.

because why else would rafayel be standing naked in your bedroom, the fishtank he once called his home now nothing but shattered glass scattered across your study table?

there was no logical explanation for this, rafayel thought to himself while struggling to manoeuvre around your room with his new pair of human appendages.

he spent at least ten minutes stumbling over his toes while trying to make his way to your bathroom door.

…seriously, why did humans even have a need for toes? and ten of them, at that!

when rafayel had finally, finally made it to the bathroom entrance, he spent another five minutes figuring out the mechanism behind how to open it.

turns out, the grand secret behind it was that he had to push the door, not pull.

once in the bathroom, rafayel was tempted to fill up your bathtub with water and just jump in for a swim, but he figured seeing a naked man with a towel wrapped around his waist would be a little less intense for you than having to see a fully naked stranger swimming around in your tub.

thus, rafayel opted to grab a spare towel from the cabinet just under the sink, carelessly tying it around his waist to hide his indecency before you came back from your royal duties.

rafayel spent yet another ten minutes trying to walk out of your bathroom (he nearly slipped at least twice but he refuses to talk about it) and towards the nearest furniture he could sit on without it breaking due to his new physique.

looking around your bedroom to ensure that there were no maids around to witness this phenomenon, rafayel plopped himself on the edge of your soft mattress.

resting his head on his fist, his eyebrows furrowed in the process.

this was not how he imagined things to go at all.

in all honesty, rafayel was pretty satisfied living life as your pet fish. though there were many pros and cons that came along with his new domestic life, he wouldn't have wished for things to be any different than how it was.

of course, there were times when rafayel would ponder to himself how life would be for him if he were to turn into a human and be able to properly talk with you.

but out of all the exaggerated and cliche scenarios rafayel had fantasized about during his free time (which was whenever you were not around), being naked with only a fluffy white towel tied around his waist as he dreadfully waited for you to return was definitely not one of them.

well, it probably was. but it was not at the top of his list, that was for sure.

but here came the real question—

how did he even turn into a human? there was no logical or scientific reason behind how all of this was possible. rafayel had never heard others talk about stories of fishes turning into humans either.

well, unless you included ariel from that little mermaid movie. but ariel was a mermaid, so it really was not exactly the same as rafayel’s current predicament.

and besides, rafayel didn’t think he knew or angered any shady sea witches back when he lived in the waters.

there was nothing he could really do at the moment. as much as rafayel wanted to sneak to the royal library to dig out some sacred books in order to do some research about his condition, he dared not imagine the consequences he would have to face if anyone caught him sneaking out of the princess’s private chambers with only a skimpy bath towel covering him from waist-down.

just the image of him getting beheaded by the royal guards was enough to convince rafayel not to leave your private chambers, knowing it was the safest place for him to be in right now.

so his only option now was to wait for his princess to return to her chambers so that he could try to explain the situation to you in hopes that your naive little brain could understand and help him out.

he was your beloved fish afterall, so surely you would find a way to help him, right?

an ear-piercing scream echoed loudly through the room.

rafayel's eyes snapped open in panic and immediate dread, sitting up from the bed frantically only to be met with a big white thing smacking his face.

as he made a clumsy attempt to back away from the bed and nearly tripping over his newly grown toes (human toes be damned), rafayel’s eyes wandered to the big white thing that was thrown at him.

it was your polar bear plushie, he noted.

rafayel then turned to look at the door, only to see you standing there looking like a frightened kitten, now holding a thick, hard-cover book ready to launch at him once more.

it was only then rafayel realised that he had accidentally fallen asleep in your bed while waiting for you to come back.

this was not good. not good at all.

“who… who are you?!” you shrieked out, preparing yourself to throw the book in his face within the next five seconds if he didn't respond.

“me? i’m…” without even realizing it, rafayel darted his eyes to look at your study table as he fell silent, his lips pursing together.

you gave him a look of skepticism before slowly following his gaze. the man watched as you let out a horrified gasp when you saw that your fishtank was nothing but shattered glass on the table.

“fifi!”

running to your study table, you stared at what once used to be fifi's home for the past three months, now nothing but broken shards scattered all across the table.

“you! what have you done to my fifi?”

rafayel backed up into the corner of the room when you pointed an accusatory finger at him, feeling very wronged by your assumption.

what, did you think he ate your fish or something?

“woah!”

to prevent his nose from breaking tonight, rafayel quickly moved his head to the side to narrowly dodge the book in your hands that came flying towards his face.

that was a close one.

“let's use words, shall we?”

before you had a chance to frantically look around your bedroom for a new deadly weapon to fling at rafayel's handsome face, he had to think of something believable, and fast.

“i’m asking you one last time, where. is. my. fish?”

your eyes narrowed and your eyebrows furrowed as you glared at rafayel as an attempt to threaten him.

rafayel doesn't really have the heart to tell you that your glare was nothing more than a little fly trying to square up to a frog.

not the best comparison, but you get it.

“well, if you're looking for fifi, i’m right here.” rafayel responded as nonchalantly as he could, desperately trying to hold back his laughter.

you shot him an incredulous look, obviously doubtful with his claim of being your pet fish. rafayel felt absolutely scrutinized under your gaze while you looked at him up and down.

“do you think i’m five?”

“well, given how you spend your nights talking to a fish like it's your newfound soulmate, i wouldn't doubt it.”

man, rafayel wished he could describe how proud he felt when he saw your jaw slacken and you gawk at him with wide eyes.

it felt so good finally being able to talk back to you, and in a way that you understood him too. rafayel picks this over ‘glub! glub! glub!’ anyday.

you looked around the room cautiously, before your eyes landed back on rafayel.

no one really knew that you spent your nights telling your baby fishy little bedtime stories.

…not unless this man in your room was fifi himself. it was a secret solely kept between you and fifi.

…still, it wouldn't hurt to double check, right?

“oh yeah? tell me something about fifi then.” you challenged, crossing your arms over your chest. you still felt doubtful over this whole situation. “anything at all.”

i mean, it wasn't everyday that you got to see your fish turn into a grown man (that was also naked, you observed), now a head taller than you.

rafayel smirked at your demand. oh boy, where should he start? he had many, many juicy secrets that he could spill to you. ones that he knew were only shared between you and your beloved fishy (him) in these very four walls.

but he was determined to embarrass the hell out of you, so he was thinking what exactly was the most embarrassing moment you've ever told him.

maybe he should start with that one time you started weeping your eyes out in front of his tank because you thought he was sick and about to die since he wasn't eating the kibbles you poured into his tank? (you were overfeeding him).

or perhaps that one time you told him you accidentally broke your mom's jewellery box while trying on her earrings and blamed it all on the maid instead?

oh. he couldn't forget the countless amounts of times you fell asleep sprawled over the study table, your hair looking as neat as a bird’s nest, drool escaping from the corner of your lips and dripping onto the sleeve of your nightgown as you snored the night away.

but the most memorable one of them all was…

“...remember that time when you tried to cut a piece of strawberry cake and dump it into my tank?” rafayel questioned, a smirk appearing on his lips as his eyebrow quirked upwards, anticipating the kind of reaction you’d give.

the way your eyes widened in horror and the tips of your ears started to tint in a dark red hue was enough for rafayel to conclude that he had won this round.

“only fifi would know that…” you mumbled out in utter disbelief. was this man standing in front of you really your pet fish of three months?

“exactly.” rafayel puffed out his chest proudly at your words. “but if you’re not convinced, i can tell you about that time when you tried to bring my fishtank to your bed so you could hug me to sleep—”

oh. not that. you desperately cut rafayel off mid-sentence.

“stop! stop, stop!” your face felt hot, as if you just ran a whole marathon with no breaks in between.

there was an awkward and tense silence lingering in the air, with you looking at your pet fish dead in the eyes.

“s.. so it really is you, fifi…” you managed to mutter out, albeit still in disbelief that your pet fish was now a grown man a head taller than you.

rafayel doesn’t have it in him to break the devastating piece of news to you that his name was actually ‘rafayel’ before you came along.

“affirmative.” fifi— or, rafayel, nodded his head without a beat of hesitation.

you both then proceeded to awkwardly stare at each other without a word, waiting for each other to break the tense silence.

eventually, rafayel was the one that broke the silence.

“so…” he sheepishly rubbed the nape of his neck, feeling like a fish out of the water (literally and figuratively). “has the shock died down yet?” he asked, hoping you were calm enough to have a proper conversation with him.

you blinked and glanced back at the broken fish tank a couple of times to make sure that rafayel was not some kind of crazy hallucination stemming from your lack of sleep recently.

“well, not really.”

“good enough for me.” rafayel casually bent down and picked up the weapons you used for your assassination attempt (your books and polar bear plushie), making his way to your study table to put the books back where they belong.

“i know you probably have a lot of questions, your highness,” rafayel’s gentle voice filled the room’s silence once again. “but i, too, don’t have the answers to them. i hope your highness can forgive me.”

he briefly glanced at you from his peripheral vision, a faint and apologetic smile ghosting his lips while he slotted the books back into the shelf.

you were still standing in the middle of the room, your eyes following rafayel’s figure while he was putting back your books. you still had the dumbfounded and surprised look from this whole ordeal.

when rafayel caught sight of you meekly nodding your head in silent agreement to his words, he took it as a sign to continue speaking.

“since you’re free tomorrow, how about your highness help a fishy out to find a way to turn me back?” he asked with a chuckle, making a final stop to your bed and gently placing your polar bear down by the pillows, now reunited with the rest of your fuzzy friends.

“how’d you know i’m—”

oh, that’s right. you told fifi at the start of this week that you had tomorrow to yourself. the realisation that you spent your nights practically telling this man (in his fish form) the a to z’s about your life started to settle in, coupled with embarrassment.

“oh.. right..” the corners of your lips twitched into an uncomfortable smile, trying to keep your cool despite the absurd situation unfolding before your very eyes.

“also, do you mind if i borrow a hoodie of yours or something? walking around with only a skimpy towel around my waist is a little uncomfortable.”

“ack!”

before you could protest, rafayel strutted towards your wardrobe and began rummaging through it like a stray mouse in search of a slab of cheese.

attempting to recollect your composure, you stammered out a remark in hopes to gain back some sort of control.

“h..hey! is this how you act in someone else’s bedchamber?”

rafayel halted his scavenger hunt for a brief moment.

“… i’ll remember for next time.”

…and he’s back to digging through your wardrobe for one of your oversized hoodies.

in the end, rafayel settled with one of your gray hoodies coupled with a pair of sweatpants he miraculously could fit in.

“what’s this?”

a look of confusion washed over his face as the fish stepped out of your bathroom, finally properly clothed.

his eyes were glued to the unfamiliar scene before him. a thick woven quilt was spread across the carpeted floor not far away from your bedframe, accompanied by two pillows and a neatly folded but thin blanket sitting on top of it.

“your new bed for the night.”

your response was as casual as inviting a friend over for a sleepover.

you gave his new bed a few soft pats, a gesture to coax him over, before making your way back to your own cozy haven.

“since you don’t fit in a fish tank anymore, i figured we have to come up with an alternative.”

rafayel watched as you tucked yourself into bed and fluffed up your pillows, getting ready to drift to dreamscape anytime from this point forward.

“yeah, well what if your maids see me?” his voice was full of skepticism as he approached his new bed, lifting up the blanket to fit into the warm cocoon.

“then i can tell them that you’re fifi.”

one of rafayel’s eyebrows quirked up in doubt and a hint of amusement.

“and will they buy it?”

“no.”

“…”

well, that was reassuring.

rafayel’s head was resting against the pillows now, completely unimpressed with your response while also trying to get used to sleeping outside of the water.

“well, but that’s something we’ll both deal with tomorrow.” you laughed nervously, leaning back against the plush pillows and turning your body so that you were laying on your side; facing rafayel with a faint smile ghosting your lips.

staring into your eyes like this made rafayel’s heart swell in an odd way. he didn’t know exactly how to put it to words, but the atmosphere of your bedroom felt dangerously intimate right now.

in fact, way too intimate for an owner and her pet fish to be having.

rafayel was no fool— he could tell how you seemed to be holding back more now that he had taken the form of a human. how the gaze you directed towards him still held a hint of love and affection amidst all of your other mixed emotions. you looked at him as if nothing had changed between the two of you, like he was still that tiny fish you had brought back home (kidnapped) three months ago.

“yeah… we should get some rest. we’ll be ransacking our brains a lot tomorrow.” rafayel agreed with a nod of his head, breaking eye contact first by turning his head to look up at the ceiling, trying to get rid of the dangerously growing intimacy dancing between the two of you.

his arm slid beneath his head to get into a more comfortable position for himself, still in disbelief that he was actually a human now.

he tried. keyword, tried to ignore the lingering feeling of not being able to bury his little fishy body in his favourite coral reef to fall asleep, and instead having to settle with sleeping on the cold hard ground with a paper-thin blanket that barely reached to the tip of his toes.

but in the end, the thought still greatly bothered him.

“tell me a bedtime story.”

…the words flew out of his mouth before rafayel could even comprehend what he was saying.

“i beg your pardon?” your expression morphed into one of astonishment.

“what? don’t you always go on and on about your day in front of my fishtank?” rafayel scoffed, turning his head back to face you. he had been kept awake against his will, forced to listen to your endless ramblings ever since you first kidnapped him.

he had grown so accustomed to your excited life updates that it was part of his daily routine now. rafayel always relied on your storytelling to help him get sleepy and prepare for bedtime, and he definitely wasn’t going to let this routine stop tonight just because he had grown a pair of legs out of thin air.

“… how about you tell me a bedtime story this time, fifi?”

your soft voice almost made rafayel wonder if he misheard what you had just said.

“hah, me? as if i have any tales that would fascinate you.” rafayel was quick to dismiss the idea of telling you a story.

one, bedtime storytelling was your thing. it always has been, and it always will be. as a fish, rafayel was habituated to just listening. i mean, he was a fish, there wasn’t much he could say to you in the first place. asking him for a sudden role reversal to play as the storyteller was beyond his expertise and comfort zone.

and two, his life out in the seas wasn’t as interesting or fascinating as whatever you were expecting.

or in other words, rafayel had no stories to tell in the first place.

“oh come on, i’m sure there’s some interesting stories about your life before you started living here.” you continued to persuade him further, trying to give him a metaphorical nudge to get him to open up.

rafayel really couldn’t resist when you talked to him in that soft and persuasive tone. you might as well grow a pair of fins and live in the ocean as a siren with how easily you allured him to obey your words.

“fine, fine, let me think of something,” the fish grumbled, his eyebrows furrowing together as he dug through his memories for anything worth mentioning to you.

entertaining a princess was hard work— rafayel was finally starting to understand the pressure of being in the presence of a princess like yourself. it was like there was an invisible expectation for him to uphold. one that was unspoken, but still anticipated in a way.

“does me being chased by an octopus sound entertaining enough for you, your highness?”

the way your smile grew, and your eyes held a hint of curiosity made rafayel let out a breath he didn’t even realise he had been holding.

so that was how he began telling you about the instance where he was chased by an octopus back when he was still adventuring around in the stray waters.

rafayel’s storytelling skills wasn’t top tiered as compared to yours. his story began awkward, his tone unnatural. this was not his forte, so he was basically a fish out of the water (once again, literally and figuratively).

however, the sounds of your soft giggles, hums of acknowledgement and occasional small nods of your head served to be the main catalyst for him to improve as the story progressed.

by the time the story reached its climax, he sounded more confident and sure of himself. he also was more natural when speaking and somehow, without even realising it, managed to lull you to dreamscape.

“...seriously? just as i was at the good part too.” rafayel muttered, feigning mild irritation when he saw that your eyes were closed, facial features relaxed, along with your breathing deep and slow.

rafayel let out a defeated sigh, lightly shaking his head before he turned his head to face back towards the ceiling again.

he finally understood how you always managed to fall asleep so quickly after telling him about your day— talking in such an excessive manner was… tiring. and now, he was feeling the growing fatigue about to consume him too.

he briefly snuck a glance at your sleeping form through his peripheral vision, the corners of his lips gently tugging upwards into a smile.

rafayel’s mind was tired, but his heart was filled to the brim with nothing but affection. affection that you had been showering him with for the past three months.

“no matter what form i take, you’ll still love me just the same, huh?”

he wasn't expecting an answer. he didn't need your verbal response to confirm his thoughts in the first place. the facts were as clear as day before his very eyes.

his vision was getting blurry, his breathing slowing down and his eyes feeling heavier with each blink.

rafayel vaguely remembered letting out one final whisper before everything fell to the darkness.

“…at least now i can finally tell you that i love you too, princess.”

all rights reserved © miclipse 2024. do not repost, plagiarize, copy, modify or translate my works on any platforms.

[aemondwhoresworld]

SOUVENIR

pairing: cregan stark x fem!reader

summary: what will happen when lord stark's wife or maybe his son, reckon found a souvenir from his old lover?

warning: minor angst, jealousy, mention of an ex-lover, use of y/n, cregan is a single dad, y/n’s lord stark second wife

word-count: 1k

mae: english is not my native language, please forgive my lag of grammar. i do use google for a translation, if any reader could help me fix some of the grammar or vocab, that would be great and i’m very appreciate it!! 🤗⭐️ this is my first fic, please forgive me if i made any mistake. i might delete soon (idk if rhis was too flop 🤗)

you and Cregan have been weds for 36 moons. although you are Cregan's second wife, Cregan has always treated you with nothing but respect, love that every lady wife deserve that affection from their lord husband, even when you know that the betroth between you and him are duty, beneficial for both houses but you cannot help but falling for him more and more. the begin of the 5 moons into your marriage life, both admitted you had feelings for the other.

right now, in the middle of winter season in Winterfell, sitting in front of the fireplace inside your and Cregan's chambers, with your favorite book open in your hand along with all the thoughts of those sweet moment that you have had with Cregan and Rickon.

“mommy, mommy look what i found” even you are not his real mom, Rickon still always call you mommy. Rickon's clear voice pulled you out of those thoughts and immediately all your attention is on Rickon holding a handkerchief in his hand, you take it from Rickon's little hands and ask

“oh what did you find Rickon, can you show it to me?” you asked softly, the boy also nodded in agreement, opened the handkerchief and you immediately saw that there were seams and very skillful embroidery inside, and of course this handkerchief did not belong to you because you had no memory of embroidering a handkerchief to give to Cregan as a gift before or not from what you remeber

when you look a bit closer at the embroidered lines, its shape resembles a man and woman, hands in hands. at this moment, you immediately recognize the male figure in the scarf is Cregan because of the Stark family's signature scarf and then when you look at women figure, you wonder who is the girl standing next to your husband?

but then a small knock on your chambers door interupted

“my lady, Lord Cregan Stark wants to meet you in the dining hall,” said the maid, Anza. before the Anza can leave the chambers, you called for her and asked about the handkerchief.

“Anza, do you know who is standing next to my husband in this embroidered scarf?” you gently asked while pointing at the embroidery. when Anza didn't answer your question, you turned to look at her with curious eyes.

"what’s up? is there something i shouldn't know about?”

“no, my lady,” she continued, “if you really want to know, i’ll tell you.”

“then just tell me then” you said

“my lady, it's Lady Celess Ashwood. an interest lover of Lord Stark.”

hearing this, you were a bit disappointed, but you had to regain your composure, stand up and tell Anza to take Rickon back his chambers because it was time for him to rest. you walked out of your shared chamber, went straight to the dining hall where Cregan was already sitting there and waiting for you, all the way from your chamber to the dining hall, holding that handkerchief in your hand with lots and lots of thoughts running through your mind

does he really love you?

or is it because he still misses his past lover?

there are so many thoughts that make you go to the dining hall without even knowing when, with a handkerchief in your hand.

“y/n” Cregan stood up, walked towards you with a gentle smile on his face, Cregan's hands gently hugged your waist, then he bowed down his head and gave a kiss on your forehead, a kiss filled with love.

“Cregan” you said and gently leaned into Cregan's hug. then you asked him

“who is Celess Ashwood?” Cregan was a bit surprised when he heard this name, its been awhile since he last heard this name but he calmly answered

“how do you know this name?” Cregan asked you with a warm voice, his toned arms still not leaving your waist. still holding onto you tightly like he was afraid that if he let go you would be blown away by the cold, strong winds of Winterfell.

“please, cregan answer my question first.”

“Celess is…” he hesitated a bit, as if he didn't want to say it

“Celess is someone i once had feelings for, someone i once loved.”

“so you still miss her? that’s why you didn't want to say it, right, my Lord Stark?" You asked Cregan with a slightly disappointed voice, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes

“please call me Cregan, we are man and wife there are need to call me that” he continue

“and no, i don't want to mention it, not because i don't want you to know, but because i think it's not important anymore. now i have you and Rickon by my side, that is my first priority.”

“then why did you still keep this handkerchief?” you continue to ask him

"i didn't keep it, love. i thought i lost it so i had no intention of finding it again."

after hearing Cregan say that, you can’t say that your moods change completly but atleast you felt relieve when you learned that your suspicions about his loyalty were completely wrong.

“well, i forgave you my husband but unfortunately for you, Rickon is the one who found it and gave it to me.”

“oh my son, Rickon is always on your’s side. i pray to the Seven one day you will gave me a daughter” Cregan joked, then pulled you in a tight embrace. then you ask

“so you have to quickly plant your seed inside me, hopefully the Seven might heard your pray sooner or later, my dear husband.” at this point, you could only laugh, only now did you pay attention to it. the dining table in the dining hall was filled with food and Cregan let you out of that warm hug

“but before we start to try and bring another baby Stark into this Winterfell, we must have to to eat first, my dear y/n.”

[adddddiiii]

Hi! Could I request a Damian x femreader where her parents don't accept Damian because they think he is a playboy like his father and because they don't want their daugther to have a boyfriend to distract her from her studies, so they force them to break up amd now Damian need to gain their approval so her parents will let them date

Winning Their Approval

Contents: Damian Wayne x reader

Warnings: One use of y/n

The first time Damian met your parents, he’d thought it went well — at least on the surface. They were polite, though your father’s firm handshake lingered just a bit too long, and your mother’s smile seemed more rehearsed than genuine. You had reassured him afterward that they simply needed time to warm up to him.

But time hadn’t helped.

When they sat you down one evening to announce their decision, it hit you like a ton of bricks.

“We don’t think Damian is the right fit for you,” your mother said firmly. “You’re so focused on your studies right now, sweetie, and we don’t want anything, or anyone, distracting you from your future.”

Your father chimed in, his tone sterner. “Besides, Damian comes from a… colorful background. His father’s reputation precedes him, and we have no reason to believe he’s any different.”

You’d argued, of course. You’d told them how Damian wasn’t like Bruce, how he was caring, loyal, and supportive. But they wouldn’t listen. By the time you called Damian to tell him what had happened, you were in tears.

“I don’t care what they think,” Damian had said, his voice low and firm through the phone. “They don’t get to decide who you’re with. If you want to keep seeing me-”

“No, Damian,” you interrupted, your heart breaking. “I can’t go against them right now. Please, just give me some time to figure this out.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Damian had no response. The line went quiet for a moment before he finally whispered, “Okay. But I’m not giving up.”

You tried to move on, to focus on your schoolwork and avoid the ache in your chest, but Damian was never far from your mind. Late at night, you stared at the messages you wanted to send him, your fingers hovering over the keyboard before deleting them.

Unbeknownst to you, Damian wasn’t just waiting on the sidelines. He was strategizing.

One Friday evening, your parents called you into the living room and your stomach dropped when you saw Damian sitting on the couch, his posture perfect, hands resting on his knees. His expression was calm, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.

“What’s going on?” you asked, glancing between him and your parents.

“Damian requested to meet us,” your father said, his tone unreadable. “He wants to… prove himself.”

Your eyes widened, and you looked at Damian. He met your gaze, his green eyes filled with determination.

“Y/n, I meant what I said. I’m not giving up on us,” he said softly, his voice carrying a weight that made your heart clench.

Your mother cleared her throat, pulling your attention back. “Damian asked for a chance to prove that he’s serious about you, and about respecting our concerns. We decided to give him an opportunity to try.”

Damian’s efforts were nothing short of extraordinary. He volunteered to help you study for your exams, often coming over to your house and sitting with you for hours. He was patient when you struggled and quick to clear your doubts.

When your parents observed him, they couldn’t deny his dedication. He wasn’t a distraction — he was an ally.

One evening, after helping you solve a particularly challenging problem, Damian leaned back in his chair, smirking.

“You’re brilliant, you know that?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you want my parents to like you.”

“Not true,” he replied, leaning closer. “I’d say it even if they didn’t exist.”

Your laughter filled the room, and for a moment, everything felt normal again.

But Damian didn’t stop there. He invited your parents to a formal dinner at Wayne Manor, where Alfred prepared an exquisite meal. Damian made sure to engage them in thoughtful conversation, so he could truly show them how much he cared about you.

“I want your daughter to succeed just as much as you do,” he told them while they were all waiting for dessert. “I don’t want to hold her back — I want to be someone who helps her reach her potential.”

One evening, as you and Damian were studying in the living room, your father called him aside. You watched nervously as they disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’ve been watching you,” your father said, crossing his arms. “You’ve done everything we’ve asked and more. But I need to know one thing — why are you so determined to be with my daughter?”

Damian didn’t hesitate. “Because she’s the most important person in my life. She makes me want to be better. I care about her, sir. Deeply. And I’m willing to spend the rest of my life proving that to you.”

Your father stared at him for a long moment before nodding. “All right. You’ve earned my respect. But remember: if you ever hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”

Damian’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Understood.”

When your parents finally gave their approval, you could hardly believe it. You threw your arms around Damian and hugged him hard.

“I told you I’d win them over,” he murmured, holding you close.

“You’re amazing,” you whispered.

“I know,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “But so are you."

And from that day on, you faced the world together, knowing that nothing — not even the initial disapproval of your parents — could keep you apart.

[fatkish]

Could you do a platonic, teenager (15-17) ! reader + father figure Aizawa where reader’s mother keeps nagging and making really snarky comments about their self harm scars, and reader goes to Aizawa when they feel like they’re going to relapse for a distraction?

if you do specifics, reader is non-binary with masc terms. Reader also knows Aizawa from him being their teacher, but they knew him from childhood as a family friend. Reader’s dad is unavailable—you can take that however you want.

sorry if this is too gruesome or too detailed, feel free to delete/tweak this if it’s a bad request — thank you for reading!

Platonic Aizawa x Teenage Reader

Aizawa had known you for most of your life. Not that he had been present for most of it. Aizawa had been close to your father as they were both underground Pro Heroes. Your father had taken Aizawa under his wing and basically became his mentor and showed him the ropes. They worked together often and became friends. Your father was super friendly with people and would invite Aizawa over to his house to ensure that he was eating properly and etc. Aizawa met your mother and was over often.

Your mother was kind to Aizawa but you could tell it was strained kindness. One day, your father and Aizawa were going after a drug smuggling operation and it went south. The drug smugglers were operating out of an old chemical processing plant. There were leftover containers and equipment from the plant. Your father ended up comatose in the hospital after an explosion caused by a fire quirk hitting nearby containers filled with chemicals.

After that day, Aizawa rarely came over. Your mother grew very hostile and rude. She consistently ignored you and you grew up trying to please a woman who hated everyone. When you did get your mother’s attention, it was never good. She’d constantly berate you and make snide comments about you. Nothing you ever did was good enough for her. Eventually she pulled the plug on your father and she inherited the money he made. She barely spent a dime on you.

Most of your clothes were old and had been repaired several times over. You got the best grades in your class at school despite the bullying. You were bullied because your clothes and everything were old and worn, you hardly socialized and you had barely any self confidence. In middle school you began to cut. It started out as a means to punish yourself so failing to live up to your mother’s standards. Every time you disappointed her or she chastised you, you cut yourself. Later it became a habit and a means to punish yourself due to your self hatred.

You knew your dad was an underground hero and you wanted to be like him. You wanted to become a hero and make enough money to create a home/facility for children whose parents didn’t want them or whose parents died. You didn’t want other children to have to suffer like you did. You began training for the entrance exam for UA. Your quirk allows you to look into your opponent’s eyes or make sounds that cause hallucinations and vertigo. However it only works on organic beings so the robots in the entry exam were difficult for you to fight.

Despite gaining a few dozen points from helping others and managing to take down a few robots, you didn’t make the cut for the hero course. You ended up in general studies but continued to train on your own. You eventually roped your classmate Shinso into your training routine to help him and have a training partner. When the sports festival came around, you managed to do pretty well. You even managed to make it into the semifinals of the third round. You lost to Todoroki due to his ice.

Shinso was the only person who knew about your cutting and he helped you break the habit. After your fight, he came to check on you to make sure you weren’t going to hurt yourself. After consoling each other, you both returned to the stands. After the festival, you had packed your bag and were about to leave when Aizawa got in your way. The moment he saw you during the entrance exam, he knew who you were. He still felt an immense amount of guilt for not saving your father. After the festival he asked to sit down and talk to you.

During that time, he introduced himself and told you about his past and what kind of person your father was. He told you about how your father helped him and that he felt it was only right for him to help you. You both talked and Aizawa was surprised to find out that your mother had taken your father off of hospice. He wasn’t made aware that your father died. After your talk, you and Shinso began to train with Aizawa and he eventually found out about your self harm scars and your intent to quit. He got you a therapist and you began to work on healing.

After the attack at the summer camp, UA decided to move the students into the dorms. Despite it not being necessary, Aizawa decided to visit your house to ask your mother to let you go to UA. You had been so hopeful about the dorms. This was your chance to finally get out of the toxic environment that was your home. Your mother had become even more toxic and borderline abusive since you enrolled at UA. During the conversation between Aizawa and your mother, you snapped at her after she blamed Aizawa for your father’s death. You yelled at her telling her that it wasn’t his fault. You shouted saying that living with her was miserable and if your father felt even the slightest bit as miserable as you do then he would probably choose death over having to be near her.

Your mother was stunned. But she quickly recovered and told you that you shouldn’t put words in other people’s mouths. Just because you like to hurt yourself and make yourself ugly with scars doesn’t mean anyone else does. You should be grateful she’s put up with you for so long. Hearing that your mother knew you were cutting and never tried to help you broke something in you. You ran out of the room and that was when Aizawa decided that your mother was unfit to care for you and he became your temporary guardian. After you packed what little you had, you left with Aizawa. As he drove, he kept looking back at you in the mirror and saw just how broken that whole situation had left you.

He saw how little you had and decided to drive to the mall to help you get some decorations for your dorm. Despite your constant pleas and reassurances that you were fine, your body language said otherwise. Despite your reluctance to let Aizawa buy you anything, you left the mall with a couple posters, some new clothes, string lights, glow in the dark stars, new stationary, snacks and few other things. When you got to UA, Aizawa helped you bring everything to your dorm and left. After you and Shinso helped set up each other’s dorm rooms, you left to go find Aizawa.

That night, you found Aizawa and gave him a hug. You buried your face in his chest as you tried not to cry. You told him how you don’t blame him for what happened and he shouldn’t either. And that wether or not he likes it, you view him as a father figure. You thanked him profusely for helping you out even if he only did it out of guilt. He changed your life and you’ll always be grateful to him for that. He wrapped his arms around you and told you you were welcome. He let you cry on him until you were done. He walked you back to your dorm and told you that he still wasn’t going to go easy on you during training. You smiled and bid him goodnight before heading inside. Aizawa smiled to himself as he looked up at the night sky, promising his old mentor that he would guide you until you were ready to do things yourself. Just as his mentor did for him, he would do for you and more.

[aria-greenhoodie]

Time stuck au but it’s Pacifica meeting the Anti-Cipher society. And she is becoming Abigale’s apprentice in engineering.

I thought I DELETED THIS ASK but I DIDNT it was just HIDDEN FOR SOME REASON! anyway this idea has captivated me, I have yet to draw Pac with the whole society (I WILL) but here’s some doodles of her and Abbey!!

Click for Quality!

Also some extra musings under the cut…..

The Northwests travel to Illinois one holiday. Pacifica takes some time off from her insufferable parents to find someplace worth visiting. Unfortunately, it seems like nothing in Illinois is worth visiting. She eventually finds herself at 333 North East West Drive, a functionally abandoned historical building, “For Rent” sign collecting dust in its windows. Something catches her eye on the ground - what looks to be a normal tape measurer. I say “looks to be,” because it is in fact a TIME tape-measurer, albeit a half-broken one.

Pacifica ends up in 1901 using the half-broken time tape measurer and manages to break it completely. Luckily for her, Abigale finds her and agrees to help fix it… and teach Pacifica some mechanical know-how in the process!

Abigale doesn’t know that she’s Pacifica’s ancestor. Pacifica is pretty certain Abigale Blackwing is Abigale Northwest, but doesn’t say anything because Abigale Northwest was always considered a bit of a stain on the family, half-buried by history. Pacifica doesn’t want to let Abigale know she’s been erased, and honestly, is still a little bought-in to her family’s philosophy of sweeping “unsavory” people or things under the rug at this point.

Pacifica is actually pretty damn good at mechanics! She takes a second to get a hang of it, but once she grasps the basics she learns the rest shockingly quick. Abigale is so proud.

Pacifica actually helps enable some semblance of workshop-safety in the society, what with her modern knowledge that lead, mercury, and arsenic are all deadly toxins that you shouldn’t be putting in “anti-cipher tonic” to guzzle and/or rub on your skin.

The rest of the society LOVE Pacifica. That’s their collective daughter now.

Jessamine teaches her how to shoot! Pacifica isn’t a very good natural aim, but Jessie is patient and knows skill comes with practice.

Horace is so charmed by her, he really takes up a sort of father figure. He would mow down entire countries for this kid. Pacifica doesn’t know how to take Horace at first, since she’s so used to her real dad sucking ass, but she becomes close with him fast!

Thurburt is SO her silly weird uncle. Thurburt was always a clumsy, accident-prone fool, but somehow around Pacifica he becomes even more slapstickly-inclined. Pacifica thinks he’s doing it on purpose to get a laugh out of her. He is. It always works.

Even O’Pimm, the crotchety old drunk that he is, gets a kick out of her! He likes her honesty. If Pac thinks something’s daft or dull, she’ll say it. O’Pimm is glad to not be the ONLY one with sense around the society anymore.

And of course, it goes without saying that Abigale ADORES Pac. Abigale never wanted to be a mother, but teaching Pacifica the ropes of engineering and working her through her problems made her reconsider that thought.

Pacifica actually manages to fix the time tape measurer all on her own one night. It takes 2 weeks for her to finally tell the society. She almost doesn’t want to leave.

Abigale was the one to convince her to go home. “The future needs you, Pacifica. It needs brilliant, talented girls like you. You’ve got people waiting on you, but more than that, you’ve got a whole WORLD waiting for you! Live your life, Pacifica, your story doesn’t end in this time. Promise me you’ll make some change in that future of yours, rather than feel trapped in the past with us…”

Pacifica is a lot different when she returns. She’s suddenly way into tinkering, something she keeps secret from her family. She’s also a lot happier, and a lot less concerned about mistakes (though she’s more worried when her parents are in eye or earshot…)

Pacifica starts to really get interested in the story of Abigale Northwest. She unearths a lot of hidden secrets about her life. Most of it isn’t good, especially now. At least Pacifica knows the truth, now. (I have a VERY specific idea as to how Abbey’s life was after the society disbanded and it is NOT pretty. Link for most of it here)

She wishes Abigale could have had her happy ending. She wonders if she had stayed behind, could she have changed things? She considered using the time tape measurer to go back more times then she’d like to admit. But she made a promise, didn’t she? Her job is here in the future, not stuck in the past…

[readbyred]

may i request how the dps boys would react to realising they have a severe crush on a, preferably shy, reader! tysm <\3

Oh, I've been waiting for dps requests! Sorry for my late replies everybody, I got demotivated again because tumblr deleted a few of my x reader posts (and a few others). But I'll try to not let that happen again if I can even help it

I think Knox would have such a silly time trying to approach you. Because we all know he’s awkward, but determined at best and, well… pushy at worst. I'm trying to go with the version I saw in a play, because thankfully they cut out the party scene which means he’s still delightfully insufferable but not awful. Anyways, he would jump on every occasion to talk to you. And then just. Stand there. He’d try to give you flowers and poems, everything really. But he loses brain cells every time he’s around you. At least you’re both equally stressed about social interactions. He gets a little braver when you give him a smile or any other sign you like him. Not less awkward, but a bit more motivated to go for it. His main problem is that he can't read you well and despite being big on feelings and all, he still has a hard time actually talking to you. Clumsily, he showers you with over the top things, that most would find cringey but you think of as endearing. And if he thinks there's a chance he’ll lose you, he’ll confess right away. I think he is brave and pretty open about feelings. Just stressed out

With Neil, it's not an issue at all that you're shy. He’s more so taken aback by his own strong feelings. Because he wasn't expecting to fall this hard. But give him like five work days to process and he’ll be all in. I feel like he would take his time to confess but he’d make it known that he cares about you. He’d be checking up on you every time he can, bringing you coffee, asking to practice lines together, go to the movies in town. Even before you two start dating you just wake up and half of his sweatshirts are in your drawer (he likes to borrow you his clothes if you’re cold) and your desk is littered with poems he shared with you. He’s a gentle lover, but he knows what he wants and when the time is right Neil has no problem confessing

It's much funnier with Cameron because this boy is in panic mode 24/7. At first he legit thought he was sick because he always felt dizzy and distracted around you. And he’s a traditionalist. Everything has to be perfect when you’re around. Like he beats himself up about every little mistake he made around you. But also makes a point to treat you RIGHT. If you’re shy he might not know how to approach you at first, because he’s not sure if you’re even interested. And how to make you like him. After much teasing (mainly from Charlie, of course) he gets fed up with his friends and decides to make a move. It might not be the most romantic when he does, but it's sweet and genuine

Another one that would take time to confess is Meeks. He’s pretty quick to accept that he’s crushing on you. He’s like, yeah obviously they are amazing, now what do I do with that? He tries to give you things. Small things. Like maybe he could borrow you a book that you’ve wanted to read for a long time of buy you a coffee/tea if you’re out in the town. He doesn't explicitly say that he liked you but it's easy to tell and he’s not one to be shy about it either. So when you guys do get together, you already know his more… romantic side

On the contrary, Charlie takes time to process his feelings. He had crushes before, but real feelings (strong ones at that) aren't the norm for him. Sometimes he catches himself losing his cool around you and it messes with him so bad. He would probably ask Knox for advice. Which is a bad move. But he figures that at least his friend is more familiar with having those sorts of feelings. Nothing much comes of it because I can't imagine Knox giving him any good advice on the subject, but after he was able to talk about liking you, he decides to just go for it. Well, in small steps. Primarily because he’s just not an intense guy, but also because he’s surprisingly mature when it comes to respecting your levels of comfort. Doesn't mean it gets boring though, it's Charlie we’re talking about. Once you get together there's not a one dull moment with him by your side

With Todd, it might be difficult at first. He’s overwhelmed by fis feelings and has a tendency to talk himself out of making any sorts of moves. Why would you like somebody like him? He tells himself he doesn't have a chance, surely. It only confirms his suspicions when you don't take initiative. It's only after he’s been moping around for a few days that Neil approaches him about it and proceeds to give him shit for not doing anything to let you know his feelings. He’s like, bro, so you care about them so much that you’d rather not have them in your life because you want them in your life so much??? Make it make sense. So with Neil's encouragement, he tries to at least talk to you and see where it goes from there. Still shocked when you end up returning his feelings. You’re in his poems now, even if it's not very obvious (he's not as straightforward as Knox, so it's not ‘i love (yn) and I want them to be mine’ kind of deal). This is the only one where I'm sure you might have to make some sort of a move. Todd’s like a spider - he’s more scared than you are and if he could, he would just silently hang out in the corner of the room you’re in. But he gets a little braver after he starts feeling more secure

Lastly, Pitts is not as bad as Todd, but still takes his time. He’s comfortable with liking you and he knows what he likes, but he’s not in any rush to make things official. So any time he has any chance to talk to you, he does and just wants to see how things go from there. He jokes around with you, asks to come study together, tries to be close. He does care, just in a more chill way than some of the other poets would. If you two have been talking for some time, he would have no problem asking you to go out with him, doesn't make you feel pressured or anything. If the others are cool with it he will do his best to have you come to their meetings at night as well. So you do not only get an awesome boyfriend out of it, but also a great friend group

[truelotus]

You're All I Want ᢉ𐭩Kurosaki Ichigo X reader

𓂃۶ৎ warnings: time-skip ichigo (18+), nsfw, masturbation, smut content/lemon , Female reader + slight angst :P

𓂃۶ৎ context: Ichigo lies in his bed, his mind consumed by the thoughts of you after breaking up with you every. inch of his mind is filled with memories of your touch. Eventually, one thing leads to another.

a/n: this was fun , lols

𓂃۶ৎ The room was dim, there was nothing bur silence in the as Ichigo lies in his bed, thinking about you. He was recalling every moment of you, each moment consuming him more than the last. He couldn’t shake the image of you smiling out of his head, the sound of your voice echoing through his ears.

Almost every night was like this after he broke up with you, he’d go home after a long day of work, lying on his bed for maybe even hours, thinking about you. He’d think about how your perfume would smell when you walked past by him, the way your hips swayed, your hair flowing behind you as you walked by.

He hugged his pillow, imagining that it was you, having regrets for even leaving you. He wanted you to be here oh so badly, he wanted to hold you closer to his chest, smell the scent of your shampoo in your hair. Why did he make such a dumb choice..

It drove him insane that he couldn’t talk to you, how he couldn’t know what you were up to.

Even though you guys were no longer together he saw you everyday—at work—he hated seeing the other guys at work starting to flirt with you after finding out you two were separated. Why was he feeling this way? He’s the one that broke up with you.

Just then, another memory of you flashed through his mind, a lewd one.

He remember seeing you drop papers onto the floor on accident, he was just about to help you pick them up until you bent over, revealing your red laced panties. He stand back, shocked by the pair.. he’s never seen those panties before, were you already seeing someone else? And you were wearing those panties just to impress them?

That’s what he thought after he finished touching himself to you in his private space.

But anyways,

You drove him absolutely nuts, there would be times he wouldn’t sleep because of you, he couldn’t eat comfortably without you, he can’t even feel without you.

He turned side to side in his bed, uncomfortable and ashamed of the throbbing feeling down his crotch. He was ashamed of his erection, he shouldn’t be feeling this way.. he shouldn’t be remembering your sweet ass bending over right in front of him, almost like it was intentional.. but he couldn’t help it.

“Fuck it.”

almost immediately, ichigo pulls down his pants before grabbing his phone from his nightstand. He went through his camera roll, wanting to find a specific video..

He respected you, he really did. But he couldn’t delete a video the two of you made together, he had desires and you were the only person who could fulfill those desires. You gave him permission of course to let him record you while you were riding him, Ichigo said he’d use it when you’re not around, to remind himself that waiting for you would be worth it.

Eventually—after scrolling so far— Ichigo found the video he was looking for, the video he needed for this very moment.

He spat into his own hand to use as lube, he pressed play finally.

He began to thrust his cock into his hand, slowly at first. But soon enough as the video continued to play further—to his favorite part— his hand began to move up and down at a faster rate.

It was the part where he filled your pussy to the brim with his cum, seeing you roll back your eyes, biting your lips to prevent making any noise, but slight moans continued to flow out of you.

After he finished coming inside of you, he lowered the camera down, making sure to video his cum leaking out of your destroyed pussy, when he thought that the cum was about to completely ooze out of you and onto the sheets, he took his figure, shoving his finger into your cunt to shove his cum right back inside of you.

“I-Ichigo!” you moaned out, your back arching just by his finger. He shushed you up politely, “I’m just making sure you take all of my cum.”

Oh how Ichigo missed you.. if only you were here jerking him off. You always did a much better job than he did. Ichigo furrowed his eyebrows together, he stopped the jerking movement of his hand and grabbed his pillow.

He sat up on his knees on his bed, he placed his phone aside, letting the video continue to play as he was going to fuck his pillow.

Soft grunts and groans could be heard from his room, he fucked his pillow as if it were you. Thrusting his cock into it at a rapid pace, he gripped the pillow as if they were your hips, helping you bounce on his dick much better.

Imagining and remembering how your ass jiggled on top of his dick, how your walls gripped onto him, your sweet lustful moans, the way his balls slapped against your ass..

How the room you two would be fucking in, be filled with moans, grunts, whimpers as well with the sound of skin clapping on each other.

“A-Ah fuck..” He whimpered out as he came all over his pillow. Annoyed that he’d have to clean his pillow once again this week.

He pulled back his pants, putting away his still hard and twitching sex. He was just about to leave the room to get ready for bed, until..

Y/N <3, calling.

When he saw his phone ringing, he jumped in place. He grabbed his phone as quickly as possible, afraid that you’d end up ending the call or the call would end up ending itself because he took too long to answer.

In a shaky and almost scared voice—as if you somehow caught him masturbating— he said, “H-Hello..?”

“When were you planning to call me?!” His body stiffened up when hearing your voice go through his phone, he was planning on calling you but he wasn’t sure if you wanted to even get a call from him.. so he was just procrastinating on it really.

“I didn’t know if-”

“You idiot! Of course I wanted a call from you?! don’t you see how much I’m in pain?” He pulled his phone away slightly by how loud you were yelling over the phone.

“You know it wasn’t easy letting you in.. so how’d you leave and be able to go to sleep without me..” Your voice became quieter and softer over the phone, he could hear your voice crack, letting him know that you were on the verge of tears.

“Y/N.”

“Y-Yes..?”

“Will you please take me back.. I’m so sorry. I have no idea what I was doing, I was so lost, lost without you. I need you, and I need you bad. Will you please forgive this idiot of yours? and maybe even take him back.”

“You idiot..

Of course I’ll take you back.”

yayy

[thedenofravenpuff]

So, some thoughts on Femme Nights At Freddy's, so far

Most importantly on their Eclipse (imma call her Clipsy in this post for difference).

Is fun to watch how they are making their own story from what started as a one time gag that was supposed to be one-to-one with TSAMS, only genderbent. The retconing perfectly fine with me, as the characters and VAs find their footing as their own show for now.

And what was very exciting was to see their Femme Eclipse at last. Knew she was going to show up eventually, when knowing the model existed, back when it appeared in EAPS a couple of times already.

What I find very interesting is the way Clipsy interact with her Sunny and Moonie, compared to our OG Eclipse with the Prime Sun and Moon.

Already the vibe is much less true villain and mostly just a trickster annoyance.

In the Prime Dimension Eclipse messed with Roxanne to ruin Sun's chances with her, just to make her suffer. On FFNAF Clipsy merely pranked Sunny to mock her taste in men, doing nothing to Roxas besides stealing his looks for a bit. Then locked Sunny and Moonie up in the green room to go play with Moonie's portal. Where we get Moonie calling out "You could have just asked!"

Already this interaction is much more like a prank, than what Eclipse would do to Sun and Moon in the past, to make them suffer. Everything Eclipse did was with the strong bitterness he felt towards them, wanting to destroy them for the suffering he had to deal with himself.

Meanwhile we have Clipsy running around laughing gleefully and generally seeming to have a great time existing.

Which makes for an interesting difference, that had me considering some possible big factors causing this difference. Of course is merely just my personal thoughts on a show that's still retconing itself and figuring out it's own lore by a lot of improve and just moving with the flow.

The Eclipse we know and know.. Is not a happy person. Created to the great trauma of waking to conscience with the horrifying awareness that he was purposefully abandoned, unwanted and one button press away from being deleted as nothing more than inconvenient malware. A great trauma even Eclipse V4 still carries, as we have seen in his nightmares (his claims not to sleep because robot speaking volumes to me on this), even after having experienced dying several times, this is still the greatest trauma he has. His very birth his worst experience, as he has desperately clawed for survival and a right to exist ever since.

It messed him up so much he took his own code apart, the Killcode part he was born from, to free himself from its threat, and create Bloodmoon. A being of pure bloodlust that cannot be tamed.

As he worked his plans to get back at Sun and Moon for the crime of HOW he came to exist, he further tore his own code apart by removing the parts influenced by Sun. Seeing Sun's positivity and joy as weakness, he removed his own ability to feel such, and instead used it to create Lunar as a counterpart to himself as well as Moon. Damaging his own ability to be happy and show it.

Now... This does not sound very much like the Clipsy we met on FFNAF. And I find this very interesting.

Made me come to some conclusion, such as.. In the Femme Dimension, the Killcode might never have existed. Something else must have created Clipsy.

Clipsy did declare she was indeed created in the codes of Sunny and Moonie, and how the boredom of being stuck in someone else's head is her excuse to act out the way she does, when having her own body to run around and cause chaos.

She's not viewed as a big threat, not the same way Eclipse was. An annoyance at worst, for running her own show with no care for rules. And as mentioned earlier, Moonie telling Clipsy she could just ask to use the portal, aka she's not banned from interacting with the others nor their tech. They just wished she was more polite about it, instead of doing pranks for her goals.

Another factor in why I don't think we'll ever meet a Femme KC, is Moonie's reaction to Moon's comment on the latest game video on EAPS, where Moon says "not first time I murdered a child". Moonie's response being a shocked "WHAT?!"

Same to the additional comment of Moon mentioned it wouldn't be Eclipse's first assault on a child.

The violence that's such a big part of the story on TSAMS, does not exist in the Femme Dimension.

Clipsy went through a different arc than Eclipse, leading to a very different story and why the interactions between Sunny and Moonie with Clipsy, compared to the crew on TSAMS and their Eclipse.

Clipsy didn't carry the trauma of the Killcode, when awakening to sentencing. Possibly gained her own body much earlier than Eclipse. Not having the threat of the Killcode hanging over them, already created a lot of different paths compared to the Pillar lore of TSAMS.

Of course this very much would mean no Femme Bloodmoon too

I do feel Clipsy still did something to herself, as the others have mentioned the existence of Lunar in their dimension. But clearly Clipsy had no reason to remove her ability to feel joy, as she's clearly having a great time messing with the cast on FFNAF.

What else make her so different from Eclipse?

She's fearless.

She used Moonie's portal to drag Monti along into a Phobia Dimension and came out laughing, after Moonie and Sunny already discussed how the Phobia Dimension wouldn't have any horrors for Clipsy to face. She wanted to go back in, for more!

Eclipse is heavily traumatised and fearful in his very existence, coming off as bitterness, anger and paranoia. Ruined himself by removing parts of code that could had let him feel simple joy and happiness, because he saw it as weakness, fearing such feelings would lower his guards too much.

Clipsy instead.. Removed the fear itself. She's fearless, she has no phobias or trauma to a point that an entire dimension that exists to make people face their worst fears, have no negative effect on her. Meanwhile Monti is ready to kill Moonie for simply having that kind of dimension saved on her portal, after less than a minute of the horrors.

Lunar exists in the Femme Dimension, but created from a different coding than the Lunar we know. She's created from fear and worry.

Of course this is just my conclusion drawn from just one episode of Clipsy's first appearance, based on how she differs from the Eclipse we know. And how difference have Sunny and Moonie differ from Sun and Moon too.

And the thought amuses me to imagine a nervous and paranoid female Lunar, created with the coding Clipsy removed from herself to not have her own joy and fun ruined by trauma and phobia.

Now, the show is still finding its own footing, and much can still change as we get more episodes. Very possible this isn't the thoughts they made for Clipsy and Luna. Is just my thoughts on what has been observed so far.

I look forward to seeing where things will go from here as they keep exploring the possibilities of this new show.

Thanks for reading.

[winniefrezcomics]

ELAD INFO DUMP

Anonymous asked: If dale is even worse in this au, does that mean that elad is a really good parent? Did ved have a super healthy upbringing?

(Accidentally deleted the question SORRY 😭😭) You’re definitely on the right track, but there’s one big reason I don’t think Ved’s upbringing could be called “healthy”; Ved’s father is, and always has been, utterly TERRIFIED of him. 🙃 (which I figured made sense as a polar opposite to Dale’s not giving af about his son ☠️)

In contrast to Dale, Elad is a timid, skittish anti-fairy, who prefers to live a quiet life on his own, tending his nightshade gardens and generally living a humble, almost ‘cottagecore’ lifestyle. He’s always been the kind of person who HATES to make a fuss or be the center of attention, and despite belonging to the awkwardly-human-proportioned species of anti-fairies, has done his best to remain completely invisible for most of his life.

Part of the reason for this is that, by all accounts, Elad is VERY nice for an anti-fairy, and grew up ostracized and bullied for it- not to mention the fact that he’s actually not all that powerful magically-speaking. He can USE magic of course, but tends to prefer doing things by hand, especially things like knitting and gardening.

(More Elad info under the cut!! CW ⚠️for unexpected pregnancy, a kinda unhealthy father/son dynamic, and a VERY brief reference to Dale’s trauma at the end) 🫶

While MOST anti-faries got at least SOME heads up that their fairy counterparts were expecting children, fairy Dale keeping his pregnancy a secret from the general public means that Elad- his anti-fairy with whom he has absolutely NO RELATION- gets BLINDSIDED by suddenly finding himself with a child. At first he did what he always did when something felt wrong with him: (as it OFTEN did in his teenage years- more on that at the bottom) ignore it and hope it goes away!! 🎉

Needless to say, it did NOT go away, and since no anti fairies had been born in ten thousand years (i believe the last was Ymmit), his pregnancy symptoms actually DIDN’T make it obvious what was wrong with him and why he felt so sick all the time. No matter how bad it got, though, Elad just leaned harder into home remedies and refused to see a doctor.

Then, the nightmares started.

Every night, Elad would get tormented by visions of horrible nightmare worlds, frightening him deeply despite the fact that he’s an anti fairy, due to his timid and cowardly nature. Every night the visions became clearer, and every day his symptoms worsened, and all the while Elad could do nothing to shake the terrifying sensation that, no matter where he went, he was no longer ALONE.

And then, in an explosive burst of magic, there he was.

A million thoughts ran through Elad’s head as he held his son for the first time, buuuuut Because he IS Dale’s opposite, at first Elad tries to put aside how terrified he is, and promises Ved he’s going to do his best to raise his “Miracle baby” right.

…until he looks Ved in the eyes, sees a familiar flash of gore, and realizes with horror that THIS was the cause of his nightmares.

See, while Dev has the ability to see into the future, and imparted that ability into his father pre-birth- VED has the ability to see into ALTERNATE UNIVERSES- usually those where things have gone horribly wrong in nightmarish ways! (His skills aren’t as honed as Dev’s are, due to not having the targeted lessons Dev has been reciving since birth, so it’s an ability he utilizes pretty infrequently tbh, but really piss him off and he’ll look you dead in your shit like “hey, wanna experience every gruesome death you’ve ever narrowly avoided simultaneously? 🤓” and then beam PURE NIGHTMARES into your head for like a fraction of a second ☠️☠️)

ANYWAY, by the time Ved was a toddler, Elad had pretty much already convinced himself the damn thing was going to bring about the end of the world, tho he WAS relieved the nightmares stopped upon Ved’s birth.

Visions of horrible alternate timelines or not, though- raising an anti fairy baby BY HIMSELF was a harrowing challenge, especially with Ved’s sheer power level- Elad had himself, his home, and most of his neighborhood transformed, destroyed, or otherwise warped COUNTLESS times when Ved was a newborn/ toddler.

I think ELAD’s surpirze child is actually probably what tips the general public off that Dale must have had one too tbh… as much as Elad would have TRIED to keep a low profile, that’s really not possible when you have an anti fairy baby, and Elad didn’t have a giant mansion for Ved to stay isolated in like Dev, so word got out pretty fast.

Elad would continue to try his best to raise Ved in a healthy home, but the fact that the man could not LOOK HIS CHILD IN THE EYES without experiencing some sort of horrible vision made it difficult not to jump whenever his pup would so much as move too abruptly.

While I think there IS some part of Ved that loves his father, I think more than anything he pities Elad, and secretly thinks his dad is a spineless, pathetic excuse for an anti-fairy (even if it IS indirectly veds fault that the poor man is so damn jumpy ☠️☠️) tho with most people Ved will usually hide behind fake niceness to get what he wants, (an incredibly believable act, since his father actually IS nice) Due to his unique upbringing, one of Ved’s personality traits is that he actively ENJOYS instilling fear in people and creeping them out, ESPECIALLY when it comes to his father and his fairy counterpart- because in a way, thier fear IS what he wants.

If I had to summarize what thier current relationship is like, I’d probably go with “father who generally attempts to be healthy and supportive, but with a constant undertone of unease, and an unhealthy power imbalance with his son” 😅

Short Drabble to give an example of what I mean:

Elad, tentatively leaning into his son’s room with a bowl of spiders in hand: “heyyy, Veddy- kins! I brought you some lun- EEK!!”

Ved’s claws ABRUPTLY scrape down the chalkboard he was scribbling on, interrupting Elad mid-sentence

“Eheh- Daddy? WHEN have I asked you NOT to disturb me?”

Elad, swallowing heavily: “wh-when you’re um- scheming, son?”

Ved slowly turns to his father with a sarcastic grin- “that’s riiiight! Aaaand WHAT am I doing right now?” He gestures at the chalkboard

Elad, cautiously setting the bowl on a table without taking his eyes off of Ved, starting to visibly sweat: “sh-scheming?”

“Mm-hmm!”

Ved abruptly TELEPORTS into his fathers personal space, nose-to-nose with him, causing Elad to SHRIEK with alarm

“And what, Daddy, are YOU doing right now?” Ved hisses through his teeth, eyes wide and manic

“LEAVING! I- I was- just leaving!” Elad FLEES from the room, covering his eyes fearfully to not make eye contact

“L-love you son, s-sorry to Interrupt!!” Elad stutters, zipping out of the room

“Don’t let it happen ag-ian! Love you Daddy!” Ved sing-songs down the hallway, before his face hardens, and he mutters under his breath- “even if you ARE a sniveling coward.”

As Ved floats back to his chalk schematics, he absent mindedly plucks a spider from the bowl and pops it in his mouth, giggling to himself- “mm, brown recluse!” 😊

Don’t have much else to say abt Elad tbh! But I HAVE done some more thinking about Veds childhood in general hehe >:3c fun fact, he and the other anti-fairy kids actually all met the fairy kids once! (Hazel facilitated it, but ALL the parents were there to supervise) With the exception of Dev, whose father and Au pairs FORBADE him from so much as being in the same room as ANY anti fairy , let alone his own ☠️ lemme know if yall would like to hear more about this encounter, or Veds childhood in general! Tbh I’ve kinda put a lot of thought into why he’s ✨like that™️✨)

Oh, and one more thing about Elad! In his teenage years, he suffered from chronic wing, eye, wrist and ankle pain- eventually it just went away, so Elad never discovered that the reason for it was the horrible conditions his fairy counterpart was being subjected to during the decades he was trapped by Vicky and forced to make bootleg wands in the secret caverns beneath the star-fall valley 🙃

….yeeeaaahhh, the lemonade stand equivalent in this AU is pretty messed up, not that Dales traumatic backstory wasn’t already ☠️

[asherxz]

Hi hope you are doing good :3

Can you do a Oneshot or Headcanon with TFP Starscream and a fem reader that is part of the Deceptions and has a crush on starscream but is not sure if to confess because she is a human ? (Feel free to delete😅)

Confessing to TFP Starscream HCS (fem human reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, ALL OF MY MOTIVATION JUST DISAPPEARED FOR NO REASON, BUT IM BACK!! I THINK... I'LL TRY MY BEST

btw i dont think i ended up mentioning gender in it? I just didnt know how to wrap that into this, i hope thats fine!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Having a crush on Starscream while being human is... quite complicated.

-Does that make it impossible to get with him? Absolutely not.

-While Starscream may deny his affection to you, he absolutely does have a sweet spot for you.

-It all started when you first joined the Decepticons. You were simply going for a walk in a nearby forest, wanting to do nothing but relax, when you suddenly met the red and flashy Decepticon medic, Knockout.

-He was heartbroken after his conjunx endura, Breakdown, had sadly passed away. He had driven to the forest to get away from the bots on the Nemesis, just needing to cry his spark out.

-Despite your initial fear you felt when you first saw him, you still decided to approach the sad medic.

-And that's basically how it happened. He took you with him to the Nemesis, and after some convincing, you were officially a Decepticon

-One of the first bots you met was actually Starscream.

-When Starscream first met you, he was disgusted. How the frag was Knockout capable of convincing Lord Megatron to let you stay!?

-Knockout had actually convinced Megatron by explaining that he would be able to work much faster when he had a small helper to get into a bots crevices. Lucky you!

-At first, Starscream was very distant. He didn't like you, or your fleshy parts. He found it useless to have you around on the Nemesis.

-Often times, he would scoff and scowl when he caught a glimpse of you.

-The first time he genuinely had a conversation with you, he was practically forced to.

-It was after he had endured another beating from Megatron after a failed mission.

-He was filled with dents and scratches, it was incredibly he was still online.

-As he was sent to the medbay with Knockout, Starscream had been threatening the medic about his small organic companion.

-In absolutely no way did he want those organic small parts near him, much less on him.

-His protests only ended up fruitless, as he realised he was now stuck talking with the small organic, as you weren't allowed near him.

-To his surprise, you weren't that bad. Quite the opposite actually.

-It didn't take long for him to get absolutely infatuated with you.

-He hated the effects you had on him. You made his spark beat faster, and his processor run wild.

-He would still act like he despised you, but it was fairly obvious he wasn't.

-He would go to the medbay more often, usually using the excuse that old scars and such was hurting again.

-Of course, that was a lie, but he would use any excuse he could use to be somewhat close to you.

-As for you, you would probably notice his lies too.

-As you somewhat got closer to him through his visits, you would develop your own crush.

-The second Knockout even got the smallest idea that you liked Starscream, he would tease you SO MUCH.

-Of course, through his teasing, Knockout would also help you.

-Knockout could spot the crush Starscream was having on you, but he wanted you to figure this out on your own. Even if it was a pain to watch.

-Several times he would set you and Starscream up, making up an excuse as to why he had to leave you and Starscream alone in the medbay.

-You had to catch Knockout alone to explain to him that you were too anxious to confess, considering how you were... Well, human.

-Knockout really had to hold back a loud groan as you explained. He had seen Starscreams flustered faceplate when he was around you, and he knew himself that Starscream definitely liked you back.

-Instead of groaning, he just had to sigh and encourage you to at least try and confess to Starscream.

-Shortly after his encouraging words, Starscream came in.

-He had taken yet another beating from Megatron, and he was limping towards the medbay.

-When he had finally reached the entrance to the medbay, he practically colapsed onto the floor from exhaustion. He just barely held himself up, it was incredible he had enough energy to limp to the medbay.

-Knockout was quick to grab the second in command, hoisting him onto the medical slab.

-Starscream let out an exhausted sigh as he closed his optics for a few seconds, when he opened them, he looked over towards you.

-You had seen Starscream enter the medbay all broken, and it had immediatly worried you. Sure, he often came in like that after his 'meetings' with Megatron, but that only made you feel worse.

-You cautiosly walked to the edge of the table you were standing on, looking to Starscream, who was looking right back at you.

-He reached out his servo, allowing you to step onto it before moving you onto his chassis.

-This was new.

-You hadn't been this close to him before.

-Carefully, you moved closer to his helm, snuggling into it. You took a deep breath, finally confessing your feelings to him.

-It was an anxious and scared feeling you felt as you confessed, but it was now or never.

-You simply just never knew if it would be your last time seeing him. War was unpredictible, one could never know when a moment would be your last moment.

-Starscream tensed as he felt you snuggle closer and heard you confess. He stopped breathing for a moment, almost not believing what he had heard.

-Gently, he placed his servo over your frame, holding you close. With a shaking voice, he confessed back.

-He had no idea how this should work, or even if it will... but no matter what, he will stay by your side.. ♡

AAGH THIS WAS WAS FUN! LOVE ME SOME CUDDLING BOTS.

Honorable mention! @urlocalboynoah

[cece693]

I hear you in the comments (and I accidentally deleted the ask for a second part, so apologies to that person.) This has been kinda hard for me to write because I don't really want the soldier to immediately jump into a relationship with his handler. I want to create the tension, trust and power imbalance before any fluff can occur, but (knowing me) I will probably have them kissing by part 3. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!

The One Kind Voice Pt. 2

tags: reunion between our boy and his handler, you had your reasons to leave, bucky still has hydra's programming, set during the civil war events, you come to the rescue

Your lungs burn with every shallow breath, each desperate inhale scraping against your throat like broken glass. The darkness of the narrow alley wraps around you, oppressive and cloying, and the rough concrete wall at your back is the only thing keeping you upright. You press a trembling hand to the bleeding wound in your side, a molten ache radiating through your torso with every beat of your heart. Adrenaline spurs you to stay awake, stay alive, because you’re sure of one fact: Hydra won’t capture you again. They’ll have to kill you first.

You glance at the mouth of the alley, half-expecting a squad of Hydra operatives to burst in at any moment. Fear courses through you, but it’s laced with something like resolve. You’ve made it this far on your own—escaped the labs, outrun the handlers determined to drag you back. You’re still not sure what they’ve turned you into, only that your body recovers faster, your strength is uncanny, and your senses are sharper than ever. Yet, none of these gifts have negated the bullet that found its way into your side.

A shiver crawls down your spine, hair raising on the back of your neck. You sense a presence before you see it. In the hush of the night, a lone figure steps from the darkness, graceful and silent as a ghost. The streetlight from the corner bathes him in thin slants of cold illumination. 

The Winter Soldier.

Your breath catches. You’ve witnessed his efficiency before—nothing short of legendary. Hydra’s perfect weapon, a lethal specter with a reputation steeped in blood and whispers. His expression is like carved marble, ice-blue eyes flicking from your face to the darkening patch of blood on your clothes. You tense, half-expecting him to finish what the Hydra guards started. But instead, in a single fluid movement, he kneels beside you.

There’s no hesitation in his movements, no wasted flourish. With methodical precision, he tears a strip of fabric from his tactical gear and presses it firmly against your wound. The pressure sends lightning bolts of agony up your spine, and you clench your jaw to stifle a cry. Even now, with your mind swimming in delirium, you notice how carefully he handles you, how his metal arm moves with an odd gentleness, ensuring he doesn’t worsen the injury. His touch is still cool and efficient, but it isn’t cruel. He adjusts the makeshift bandage, keeping pressure on your side. Finally, his voice, low and hoarse, breaks the hush of the night.

“Don’t move.”

Two words, a command, but you detect no malice—only urgency. Despite the swirl of fear and agony inside you, you force a shaky nod. You know he’s right; the bullet lodged in your flesh, or whatever shrapnel Hydra’s guards sent flying your way, could tear you apart if you’re not careful. Still, you find enough strength to speak. “We need to keep going,” you gasp out, your free hand curling into a fist against the grimy concrete. “They’ll find us if we don’t move.”

The Winter Soldier’s expression remains stoic. His intense gaze sweeps the alley, ensuring no immediate threats linger in the darkness. The neon glow of a broken streetlamp flickers over the planes of his face, highlighting the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. He looks back at you, your clothes soaked with blood, and you can almost see some small, hidden part of him decide you matter enough to save.

Carefully, he slips his arm beneath your shoulders, the cold metal of his prosthetic pressing against your ribs. He stands, hauling you up with surprising ease. Your knees nearly buckle, and for a moment, pain roars through you, but the Soldier adjusts his grip—supporting your weight while keeping your injured side from jostling too much.

You clench your teeth against a whimper. You can’t show weakness, not even in front of him. There’s no telling how many Hydra agents are still scouring the streets for you both, how many black vans are sweeping across the city’s back alleys. The Winter Soldier nods once, as though sharing your unspoken urgency, and begins guiding you deeper into the maze of concrete.

He leads you through narrow passageways and side streets, past broken fences and shattered windows. With every jarring step, you fight down waves of dizziness. The wound burns like liquid fire. Occasionally, the Soldier pauses to peer around corners, scanning for any sign of pursuit. You can tell he’s operating on pure instinct and training.

Eventually, you slip into a defunct warehouse—a cavernous space cluttered with forgotten crates and dust-covered machinery. The Soldier eases you onto a wooden pallet in one of the far corners, away from the gaping loading bay doors. He crouches down beside you, the acrid smell of rust and old oil filling your nostrils. With a curt motion, he peels away the blood-soaked cloth that makes up your hasty bandage. An involuntary cry catches in your throat, and he halts. His eyes flick up, as if assessing if you can endure more. You give a tight nod, urging him on.

Like a trained medic, he checks the wound: it’s raw, still seeping, but not immediately life-threatening. Not yet, at least.

A day passes in a fog. You’re not sure how you survive it, but you feel his presence like a sentinel. Outside, you hear distant sirens, the hum of cars, maybe the approach of Hydra agents. Every time a noise grows too loud, he’s at the ready—pistol in hand, scanning the shadows. Yet, no one breaches your hideaway.

When he’s sure the coast is clear, he vanishes briefly to hunt for supplies, then returns just as silently. You notice he’s acquired a handful of medical items—gauze, peroxide, antibiotic cream. Probably looted from a nearby pharmacy or a hidden stash. He doesn’t speak much beyond terse instructions: “Don’t move,” “Drink,” “Let me see.” But in his own way, he’s taking care of you.

On the second night, a strange hush settles over the warehouse. You’re dozing fitfully when an unexpected scrape at the far entrance yanks both of you to full alertness. The Soldier raises a warning hand at you, eyes narrowed, then positions himself between you and the door. His posture tenses, firearm aimed toward the sound.

A sliver of pale light cuts through the darkness as the door cracks open. You hear the slow, careful tread of boots, then see a large silhouette holding a round shield emblazoned with an unmistakable star. The instant recognition sends a jolt of alarm and confusion through you. Captain America?

He steps into a beam of moonlight, scanning the dim interior. His gaze locks on the Winter Soldier, then flicks to you—slumped, bandaged, very obviously wounded. The Captain’s features tighten with concern. He lifts his hands, palms facing outward, to show he means no harm. “Easy,” he says softly, his voice carrying across the emptiness. “I’m not here for a fight.”

The Winter Soldier doesn’t lower his weapon. His jaw clenches, a storm of mixed emotions written plainly on his face. He shifts his stance ever so slightly, still an unyielding barrier in front of you. Captain America’s gaze takes in your battered form. He sucks in a breath, as though dreading what Hydra’s done this time. “I can get you both somewhere safe,” Captain America continues, eyes flicking to the gun aimed at him. “A S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. You won’t be locked up; I promise. And you”—he glances at the Winter Soldier—“I know who you are, even if you might not remember me and I want to help.”

A beat of silence, heavy with tension. The Winter Soldier’s finger lingers near the trigger, but he doesn’t fire. You see the subtle shift in his posture—there’s protective fury there, yes, but also uncertainty. He’s trying to figure out if Captain America is lying.

Looking between them, you muster your voice, hoarse from pain and fear. “We can't keep going like this,” you admit quietly, and your gaze flicks to the Soldier’s resolute face. “If there’s a chance we can get rid of Hydra looking for us, I'm willing to risk it." The Winter Soldier remains silent, but you sense him wavering. He cares enough to keep you alive, and that might be the deciding factor. He sets his jaw, then lowers the pistol, though not fully. The universal gesture is clear: We’ll hear you out, but don’t try anything.

With painstaking slowness, Captain America moves to his belt, retrieving a small med kit. He sets it on a crate nearby, then steps back, hands raised. “We can do more once we’re safe,” he says. “Let me call for transport. We’ll get you both to a secure facility.”

The Soldier gives a curt nod. Relieved, Captain America speaks softly into a communication device, requesting immediate evac. The tension in the air remains thick—nothing about this situation is guaranteed. But a spark of hope roots in your chest. You have a chance, however slim, to escape Hydra’s clutches and be free.

When the Captain finishes, he shifts his stance, moving to lift you up so you won’t have to walk with that bleeding wound. But the Winter Soldier reacts faster—almost reflexively. In a blur of motion, he’s already bracing an arm beneath your knees, another around your back. He does it with surprising care, mindful not to jostle your injured side.

The Captain pauses, lowering his arms to his sides. There’s no reprimand or jealousy in his gaze, just a flicker of relief—maybe even gratitude—when he sees the soldier cradling you so protectively. It’s as if he takes comfort in this rare display of empathy from the man he once considered an enemy.

Captain America steps back to give the two of you space, his voice steady but kind as he murmurs, “Let’s get you out of here.” He leads the way out of the grimy warehouse, shield clutched in one hand,. The Soldier follows in his wake, cradling you securely, each step taken with meticulous care.

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Hey babes, love your work so much🩷

Could you possibly write some body worship and appreciation on daryl (including giving him head)? Like really sweet and caring but also hot as fuck? Lord knows he dederves/needs to hear it😩 Also another idea that popped into my head, could be in this or another fic, but him pulling your hair while fucking you from the behind, not like super rough or anything just kinda affectionate.

Pardon my rambling and thank you for always feeding my inner whore!💖

IT'S JUST A BODY OF YEARS

"That I leave all alone"

THE FUNTIME PARTS: Daryl x Fem!Reader, big boy is insecure, body worship, blowjobs, tbh daryl is a bit subby in this, face-fucking, gentle sex with some gentle hair pulling, creampies and a breeding kink of course

this request is another really old one that I only just recently got an idea for because for some reason I've been absolutely feining to just suck daryls dick. like I want his man peenar in my mouth like candy.

i feel like he gets overly insecure pretty often, some of it dates back to his childhood because I feel like there were definitely times where daryls father shamed him for eating or being "too big" at a young age, so there's always been some self-hatred that he just needs to have kissed and sucked away

I did take a little mental health break and i feel a bit better, I ended up having to go through my drafts and inbox to clear out mainly the super old requests that I just had no interest in, I really really wanna open my reqs back up for new and fresh ideas but first I have to finish the ones I already have

if this flops im deleting my blog and tumblr

Daryl Dixon wasn’t a man of many words, and he didn’t need to be in order for you to understand him.

His body spoke for him, from shy hands resting on your hips to soft kisses trailing up your neck, Daryl never needed to voice how he felt about you, and he knew how you felt about him, but sometimes he couldn’t figure out why.

Even now, as he stands in front of the mirror with his shirt off nitpicking at each imperfection littering his skin, he still can’t figure out why.

He was nothing but a low-class hotheaded redneck from deep in the south. You were so far out of his league that it was almost unbelievable that you'd ever want someone like him. Someone as breathtakingly gorgeous and downright stunning as you stuck with someone as dirty and disgusting as him.

The skin of his body was so rough and utterly ruined, cringing at the feeling of raised scars on his chest under the tips of his blistered fingers. How could you ever feel an attraction to someone like him?

He folded his arms across his chest, growling softly as he frustratedly blinked back angry tears as he tore his eyes away from the mirror, straight up offended by the state of his own body.

You approached him from where you were watching sadly in the doorway, sliding gentle hands around his waist and feeling him jerk away from the sudden contact in his vulnerable state. He never wanted you to see him cry. Hell, at this point he didn't want you to see him at all.

“Dun' look at me” He mumbled, arms tightening around himself as a wave of self-hate washed over him once more, your touch burning against his skin.

“But I love looking at you,” You whispered softly, hands trailing up his sides and coming to a rest on one of his biceps. “I love all of you”

Daryl shook his head, hiding his face behind his hair as hot tears welled up in his eyes again. “How? Why?” He had so many questions, but none of them seemed mattered when your hands ran up his arms and gently tried to pry them from his chest.

He balled up his fists by his sides, but you stepped in front of him and brought them into your own. “Well to start, I love your hands. You just don’t know how good the hands of a hard-working man feels” You said as you kissed the palm of his hands, nuzzling your cheek against them in a cat-like manner. "So rough and ragged, but so gentle and kind"

Daryl flushed a little as your face made contact with his palm, almost reflexively hold your cheek as you held it against your skin, kissing a soft trail against his palm, moving to his wrist and down the length of his arm.

Daryl did take a lot of pride in his arms, and you knew that better than anyone, dragging your fingers along his forearm where you could feel the veins protruding, bringing the digits up to his large bicep. “I love your muscles, my big strong man who can carry me anywhere I want with your drool-worthy arms"

At that, a small smile cracked on his face, but it disappeared once your fingers made their way up and across his chest, easily becoming insecure all over again.

He brought a hand down to your waist to stop you, squeezing it as you moved your hand to his face, softly cupping his cheek and brushing away his tears with your thumb. “Hey, it’s okay. I call you 'handsome' as a nickname for a reason, 'cause it’s true” You whispered, staring into his sad eyes. You pressed your lips against his, and then to the side, down his neck. "You're gorgeous to me, Daryl"

You mumbled the words against his skin as you kissed and sucked your way down his neck, taking your time as you went across his collarbone, down to his rounded pecs, all the way across his chest, softly trailing over bumpy scars on his oh-so-nicely sculpted abs, slowly lowering yourself down onto your knees as you worshipped your absolute hunk of man.

"I love your whole body. So built and sturdy, big and thick," You said in a sultry tone as you glanced up at him, running a hand over his bulge and cupping it through the fabric, watching the way his face flushed a deep red all the way down to his chest. "Just so perfect"

Daryl's fingers tangled gently in your hair, almost nervous as you pressed open-mouth kisses against his now-straining cock, sucking on the growing wet patch where his tip was. A deep groan pulled itself from his throat, your lips moving against his flesh as you moved to pull his boxers down with your teeth, yanking them the rest of the way down until he was in nothing but his bare skin, putting all of him on display just for you.

You kissed his defined hipbones, wrapping your hands around thick thighs as you trailed along his v-line, peppering feather-light kisses around his pelvis and reaching the base of his cock, his pubic hairs bushy yet somewhat trimmed.

"M'not the same from when we first met" Daryl whispered, his blunt nails scratching at your scalp as you glanced up at him, shrugging a shoulder as you teased his side with your fingers. "It's called growing up, Dar. To be fair, you were quite a chubby cutie back then"

He scoffed slightly at that. "Ain't no different now, 'always been on the bigger side"

"And I love that. Makes you so warm and loveable" You smiled softly as you placed a wet kiss against his tip, running your tongue down the underside to the base, taking one of his balls into your mouth before licking your way back up to the tip, listening to the shaky moan that left his lips as his fingers curled in your hair.

You wasted no time sliding the head of his cock into your mouth, humming around him in your own form of satisfaction as you pulled back all the way to the tip, going back down all the way to the base, relaxing your throat as you nuzzled your nose in the plush of his pubes, happily inhaling his natural scent as he groaned above you, pressing his hips forward as his cock rested snuggly in your throat.

He held you steady by your hair, pulling himself back and almost completely out before sliding right back in, repeating the action as goosebumps exploded across his skin, breathing breathlessly as he practically started to hump your face.

Tiny moans pulled themselves from your chest, flickering your eyes upwards to watch the way Daryl tossed his head back and dropped it back down, his pupils blown wide and eyes lidded, cheeks flushed a cherry red as your throat squeezed around his cock, Daryl's husky breaths and grunts filling the air as he pushed his hips forward, pressing his pelvis right up against your nose.

You pulled your head back all the way until he slipped out your mouth with a wet pop, coated in slick saliva as you suckled and kissed along the underside of his length, fingers stroking through your hair as you flickered your gaze up to meet his, smearing spit along the skin of your cheek as you basically nuzzled up against his cock.

"Wha'cha doin' down there doll?" Daryl asked in his southern drawl, raspier now from your previous antics.

He brought his hand down to the base of your neck, bringing his thumb to your chin and tilting your head upwards, watching as you innocently bat your lashes kissing against his v-line. "Just loving on my man, you're so hot"

"Real funny” Daryl said from above you, his hand cupping your face as you rubbed yourself up against him in a cat-like manner.

You smiled at him, kissing along his prominent hip bones and running your lips over any scars or imperfections. “It’s true, I’d eat you alive if you let me”

At that he scoffed, “Think m’gon pass” dropping his hand from your cheek down to your waist as you gradually kissed your way back up his body, lips fluttering against the skin of his chest as you felt the bumpy and slightly rough scars decorating his torso, running your hands up his firm pecs to wrap around his neck as your lips found their way to his face, peppering his scratchy beard in kisses.

“I love you, Daryl. I want you to see the man that I see,” You whispered against the corner of his mouth, brushing a stray hair out his face as you kissed him sorrowfully. “Not the one you see in the mirror”

His grip on you tightened, and you giggled softly when he twitched against your leg, eyes low as they flickered between you and your lips. When he kissed you. it was hungry, desperate and gentle all in one, a hand settling itself back at the base of your neck.

It wasn’t long before the air in the room started to get heated, shortly realizing that Daryl was completely nude and that you were still completely dressed, pulling away from him in order to tear your shirt off, hands helping to yank down your pants along with your underwear in a quick, fluid motion, calloused hands running themselves over your tits and squeezing, feeling their way down the rest of your bare body.

“Yer fuckin’ perfect” He mumbled out as he pulled you against him, dipping his head down in order to bite at your flesh, small groans rumbling softly through him as he groped at your waist.

You spun around him and twisted his body in order to be pinned between him and the vanity, heat pooling in your stomach as he practically towered over you. “That's what I'm trying to get you to understand”

“Oh, I understand alrigh’,” Daryl spoke in a low tone, bringing his attention back down to your neck and a soft pair of tits. “Jus’ shaped like a goddamn dream”

"Don't be so kind Sir Scupluted," You exhaled with a shaky breath, wrapping an arm around the man's neck as he pressed his skin against yours, dragging a rough hand down the pane of your back and helping himself to a handful of your round butt, scoffing out a small chuckle as your words finally processed in his mind.

"Sir Scupluted?" He repeated outloud as his breath fanned over your ear, dragging his scratchy yet soft beard along the skin of your neck.

You giggled as the fine gray hairs tickled at your flesh, Daryl's hands dipping down to grope and squeeze your hips, thumbs brushing along the skin of your inner thighs. "Have you seen yourself lately?'

Daryl grunted a little when you spun around in his grasp, forcing him to reposition his hands where they now rested on your waist, his front to your back as you smiled at him through the mirror, bringing a hand up to stroke his face as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, calloused palms feeling their way around your flesh lovingly as he pressed himself against you, almost trying to hide himself behind you.

It made your heart squeeze painfully, placing your other hand on top of his and looping your fingers together, brushing curls out his face as you turned to look at him, whispering out a small "Daryl," in order to full grasp his attention, a sad frown taking over your face as his striking eyes met yours, cupping his cheek. "You are the most gorgeous boy I've ever had the honor to lay hands on. You're the sweetest thing in this whole world and there isn't a thing I'd ever want to change about you. Not your face, not your voice, not your body, not anything."

He shook his head slightly in your grip, mumbling into the crook of your neck, "Ya dun' mean-" but getting quickly cut off by you pressing a finger to his lips, bumping your forehead against his. "I do mean it. You're absolutely perfect, Daryl, that won't ever change"

You spoke the words against his lips softly, humming and cupping his face as he closed the gap between you two, kissing you desperately and needily as the love in your words rang out in his head, feeling the way his heart was totally pounding in his chest and his cock was throbbing between your bodies, hands curling into your flesh.

Daryl's lips trailed down the underside of your jaw, hungrily kissing and sucking on your skin going down your neck, biting his way to your shoulders as a big palm came up to fondle one of your tits, the other snaking down to your hip as you pushed back against him, resting your hands on the dresser as you teasingly eyed him through the mirror, moaning slightly when he started to rut himself between your slick folds.

A wave of excitement pulsed through you when a large hand gripped your shoulder right near the base of your neck, Daryl pushing the head of his cock into the hot velvetiness of your cunt, a deep groan leaving his chest as he sank all the way in, nudging his pelvis up against you.

"Love my sweet boy, always making me feel so good" You almost whined the words as you clenched around him, nibbling on your bottom lip as the hand on your shoulder moved up to your hair, fingers combing and gathering the loose strands, holding them in a hand-held ponytail, nails scratching bluntly at your scalp.

Daryl was one of the only men in your life who could really make you finish, just the stretch of his cock was enough to get your eyes rolling, setting a rhythmical pace as he started to thrust his hips, pulling himself all the way back before easily slipping back in, burying his dick in the squishiest parts of you.

He admired your face as it twisted in pleasure, watching you through the mirror as you moaned with every thrust, eyes closed in bliss. He took the chance then to admire your whole body, from your round hips striped with stretch marks, all the way up the deep arch in your back to the tops of your shoulders, teeth marks and hickies already starting to bruise purple.

It didn't stop him from dipping his head down and taking the skin into his mouth again, wanting nothing more than to make it known to the whole world that you belonged to him, and that he so rightfully belonged to you.

You turned your head slightly to the side, Daryl meeting you the rest of the way and locking his lips with yours, swallowing all your tiny sounds while letting out soft groans himself, eagerly lifting one of your legs up to get that much deeper, the feeling that took over when hearing you choke and stutter over the new angle was indescribable, solely focused on making his pretty girl cum.

Which wouldn't take much longer at all, whimpers filling the room as you tensed up in his hold, the hand that was once in your hair now protectively wrapped across your chest, helping to support your body on one leg as your fingers curled into the wood below, mouth going slightly agape as your orgasm crashed into you, Daryl fucking you through it until you were trembling and twitching, slowing his movements to chase after his own release, rocking his hips against you gently as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, flushing more when fingers gripped the hair at the back of his nape, feeling your other hand squeeze his arm. "Fill me up Dar, please"

"Give ya' lots of lil' babies huh?" He mumbled against your skin, increasing the pace of his strokes as he was so close, feeling the way his orgasm tightened his balls and made his whole body hot and tingly.

You pulled him flush to your lips once more, tongues pressing and swirling around one another, tasting every little corner of his mouth happily. "Lots of them. I wanna have all your gorgeous babies"

With that, it wasn't long before Daryl's hips started to falter, a husky moan pulling itself from his chest as his cock pulsated, pumping his load into the softness of your cunt, dropping your leg back down on the ground when he pulled out with a lewd pop, instantly peppering you in kisses.

You spun back around in his arms, tossing your own around his neck and glancing at the damage you had done to his body, bites, and marks littering him from head to toe. "I love you sweetheart, I love you so much"

Daryl easily lifted you up off the ground, carrying you over to bed where he dropped down with you clinging to him, pulling the covers over both your nude bodies and squeezing you tight, so tight that it sent waves of dopamine rushing through you, heart pounding as you snuggled against your man's chest, his fingers in your hair and gently tracing shapes on your back, lips pressed to your forehead.

"Love ya' too doll, dun' know how I got so lucky" He whispered the words, and you could feel the rumble of them vibrate up close and personal, kissing right between his pecs. "Anyone would be lucky to have a man as faultless as you, but not anyone else can have my beautiful boy"

Hey everyone look!! Im about to drop another fic and then not drop for another three months!!!!!

WHOS EXCITED FOR THAAAT🤗🔥🔥

But anyway, I had plans to actually start scheduling posts but I don’t write that fast to do that so i’m just gonna throw this into the crowd and vanish again 🙏🏾‼️

also i have something against all of you who still use my tag but WHATEVERS. 🙄 A sexy bitch like me improvises (i asked daddy krys for help)

[aprilthearcher]

me and you... were meant to be.

[remus lupin x f!reader] [platonic james potter x f!reader]

slytherin!reader (because i myself am one). use of (y/n) (though i tried my best to not overuse it)

angst, but happy ending. remus' insecurities get in the way of your fresh relationship. 3k words.

i haven't written for remus for a long, long time so i tried to do my best because i love him to pieces and recently i've been experiencing a remus lupin era so... here it is. also, that spell she uses to protect her home... i've no idea if it exists, i just liked it.

english is not my first language, so there could be some mistakes. pictures are not mine.

thank you for reading!

i wrote this while listening to "Don't Delete the Kisses" by Wolf Alice and "What if I Love You" by Gatlin.

“What if you and I… What if we were never meant to be?”

“What are you saying, Remus?”

“I'm saying that I don't think we… I don't think it’s good for us to keep seeing each other.”

“But, but why? We are so good right now, we… I’m trying here, Remus, but I don't get it. Why would you do this?”

“I've just told you, we are not meant for each other. You… you des…” He stopped mid sentence. “I don't see you like that anymore, I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise.”

Now, on top of a bus that would drop her off a couple of blocks from her flat, she couldn’t recall a single moment in their short relationship that could’ve propelled something like this. They were good, really good. After dancing around each other for so long during their Hogwarts years, they had finally admitted their feelings one summer afternoon while looking at the sun go down and the moon rise up. Four months later, he was ending it. Salazar, could he have been high? She knew sometimes the boys would smoke those muggle herbs Marlene would bring them, overcharging them of course, but he had never said something so… heartbreaking under their influence. No, he couldn’t have been high, he would become even touchier when he’d smoke some, ignoring his friend’s presence and delighting in the passionate, even primal, effect they’d produce; the lightheaded feeling that allowed him to relax and run his fingers through her arms, her hands, her neck and jaw…

She pressed the palm of her hands against her eyes when they started to water for the fifth time that evening after leaving Dorcas’ apartment complex. Was he so desperate to get rid of her that he couldn’t even wait to do it at home? What would her great-grandmother think of her if she saw her like this? “Crying over a half-blood, a HALF-BREED, you are nothing but a blood traitor. You’ve tainted our legacy, you and your good-for-nothing parents, you are no more worthy than those mudbloods you hang round, affiliating yourself with muggles, living a life surrounded by them." Why did she keep caring about what she would think? She had never shared her views on blood purity and how any wizard or witch that wasn’t part of the Sacred Families would be undeserving of its magic. She hated people like her grandmother. She hated that the old hag had tried to drill these thoughts into her head since a very young age. She was glad she had died and she was glad her parents were nothing like their parents, so why was she remembering her now? Perhaps it was the fear of losing her entire friend group that made her sick mind resort to conjuring the old witch’s voice in her head.

She truly hoped for her great grandmother to be rolling in her grave at the sight of one of her descendants crying over a werewolf and the possibility of losing her entire friend group made up of blood traitors, half-bloods, and muggleborns. 

She knew they weren’t like that, that they wouldn’t isolate her for something like this. Merlin, they didn’t even know, at least until tonight, of their relationship! Though she was sure it wouldn’t take long for them to figure it out after how she had left in such an abrupt manner, without saying goodbye and barely making it to the door without the tears falling down her cheeks. She had left the task of explaining everything to Remus. 

“Lady, this is the last stop!” The bus driver called out from the front of the vehicle.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Fuck Remus Lupin for breaking her heart, for making her cry and making her miss her bus stop. Fuck him for making her feel so in love she left her guard down, fuck him for assuring her that he could trust him. 

Although she had planned to take the muggle bus to get her mind off things and not get home immediately — for she was sure her lonely flat would make her feel worse, for she was sure there was one of Remus’ sweater idle placed on the back of an armchair she was hoping to return tonight after he’d accompanied her home —, she had not anticipated missing her stop and having to walk ten or so blocks home. It was not that she felt unsafe wandering through London this late, but she just felt emotionally exhausted.

She almost jogged all the way home, not wanting to encounter any trouble on her way home for she was not in the right state of mind for fighting anyone, muggle or not. Though, perhaps, the rush of adrenaline that would come from a brawl would bring her back to life, a little at least. 

She’d taken two steps into the hallway when she saw the light coming from her flat. Stopping on her tracks, she got her wand out of her leather holster strapped in her left shoulder and approached her door. Good thing she had opted to climb the stairs instead of apparating inside; if she were to be ambushed, she wouldn’t have had any time to prepare. 

With the whisper of an incantation the door opened slowly. For a moment, she forgot about Remus and the only thing on her mind was to find out who was inside her home. Her mind was reeling with ideas. Death eaters. 

Death eaters. Death eaters. Death eaters.

But how? She had secured the place with some, if not all, of the best protective spells. Dorcas had helped her set them up. The locks were unbreachable, as well as the magical barriers protecting the walls from all sides, there were only two people that could apparate inside, her and…

“Prongs?”

She had chosen James as the only other person to be able to apparate inside her home. The spell was infallible and it had taken them several months of hard work, but it was worth it since not even someone who had induced the polyjuice potion, impersonating James, could get in. 

She saw him pacing round her living room, his fingers twirling his wand in the air, a trick she had seen muggle musicians do when playing the drums. He stopped once he saw her, quickly coming to wrap one arm around her frame while the other pushed the door closed. The hiss of the invisible sigils increased for a second.

“I thought something had happened to you on the way home, you took so long. Why did you take so long? I was worried sick.”

“Merlin, James, the baby is making you act just like your mother.”

“Shut up, I was genuinely worried. Was about to go searching for you.”

“I took the bus but missed my stop, so I had to walk.”

He nodded, relaxing a bit now that he saw his best friend was okay. Physically, at least. Her emotions were still all over the place, her heart had calmed down and decided to break again after realising there were no intruders in her home. 

“What happened back then, dove? With Remus? You, you just run away.”

“I think you know what happened, James.” She said, while hanging her coat in the rack and taking out her boots. She knew he knew, he wouldn’t have left Dorcas’ flat without an explanation from Remus after seeing her so distressed.

James sighed. Even though her own feelings were messed up, she could still realise this was a difficult position for James, and the rest of them, to be in. (Y/N) and James had been friends since they were young, younger than now at least, knowing each other because their parents introduced them the summer before beginning their third year at Hogwarts. She was a Slytherin thus making it hard for the boy to trust her, even at that age, but one stern look from his mother Euphemia had the boy overcoming his prejudice against her in a heartbeat. It had been quite impossible to separate them since then, which meant introducing her to the rest of his friends. Sirius had been apprehensive, Peter quite terrified… Remus… Remus had been intrigued, you could say. All of his previous interactions with Slytherins hadn’t been pleasing, but this was the girl he had Transfiguration with, who would raise her hand faster than anyone and answer correctly, getting all the spells right on her first try. This was the girl he had glanced at maybe once — he definitely did more than glance — at the library, carrying way too many books for her on one hand while the other, holding her wand, pointed to the floating pile of heavier tomes behind her. 

Remus is also one of his best friends, the four of them are like brothers. She couldn’t deny she was quite surprised to see James here, attempting to comfort her instead of him.

He still had his arm around her shoulders when they started to walk towards the kitchen. If James intended to stay then she was in dire need of some tea to pass the bad taste the fight had left in her mouth. He would want to hear her side of the story. Turning to light up the room, she saw pints of red covering James’ knuckles. She disengaged from his hug, positioning her body in front of his then grabbed his hand, harshly. She heard him wince. His eyes scrunched and his lips closed in a thin line, she knew. He knew that she knew.

“Did any of his teeth fall out?” She pressed her fingers to his bloodied knuckles.

“No, but… Ow! Would you stop that?” He tried to release his hand from his grasp, she tightened her hold.

“I don’t need you defending me, James.”

“You’re my best friend, of course I’ll…”

“He’s your best friend too!” She yelled. Salazar, she was pathetic. Defending the boy who crushed her heart no more than two hours ago. “I don’t want you fighting my battles for me, James, especially when it’s against one of your friends.”

“I’m sorry, dove, you are like a sister to me. I couldn’t help it.”

“It’s not like he did anything wrong though. He… he is allowed to change his mind. I - I was the one to get too caught up. I shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t have…”

“I didn’t punch him because he ‘changed his mind’, dove. I punched him because he was lying about that.”

“James…”

“No, no, listen. Listen to me.” He grabbed her face, wiping the new set of tears that had begun to cascade down her face. “I know Remus and I know that he loves you, that he’s loved you since you jinxed one of the fourth years after bad mouthing Peter, perhaps even before that. He’s not telling the truth and he’s pushing you away because he’s terrified of how much he loves you. That’s why I hit him, thought it’d make him realise he cannot lose you.”

“Salazar, you really are your mother.” James laughs at your comment, heart soaring with desperation at the new turn of events. He knew something more was going on with Remus and (Y/N) as of the last couple of months because James Potter was observant and this new bond didn’t look like the shy glances they’d throw from across the Hall during their Hogwarts’ years. These were slow, delicate touches; soft smiles and bodies that would look to be close to each other every chance they got. So he wanted nothing more than for his friends to be happy; although he should’ve seen Remus’ self-sabotaging tendencies coming because he knew all of his friends like the back of his hand, he didn’t. He blamed the uprising war for that. He blamed it for everything, from clouding Remus’ judgement more than ever to forcing him and Lily, and consequently the rest of the Order, to be constantly on the lookout for danger. None of them had had a good night’s sleep for months now. 

“You should still apologise, you’ve been friends for years and I…” 

Rapid, loud knocks against her front door interrupted (Y/N). She and James looked at each other, he had a hunch of who it might be but getting his wand at the ready didn’t hurt. (Y/N) had the same idea, she started to move towards the entrance with her arm up, wand always pointing at the door.

“Who is it?” The banging stopped.

“It’s … It’s me, Rem - Remus. I - I.” She could hear him shuffling outside, as if he were moving round the place, jumping from one foot to another; he probably was. “It's really me, I - I got you that black leather holster for your wand as a gift. You bought the rug on your bedroom floor in a flea market last month, you said it reminded you of the one you had back home. Your favourite colour is red and you hated yourself for it because James always joked how you should’ve been in…”

“Gryffindor.” By the time Remus had been at the end of his ranting, she had unlocked the door and opened it all the way, hitting the rag on the way. 

“Yeah, but green always looked better on you.” Remus looked at her face, he could see the trail of black makeup going from her eyes to her chin. She must’ve felt his stare because in a swift movement she got rid of the marks, or at least she tried to. It smudged a bit more than he knew she would’ve preferred. 

“You’ve got blood on your face.” She said.

“I know, I - I tripped down the…” Remus tried to explain while cleaning the blood with the back of his sweater. She could’ve told him she’ll clean it up for him with the touch of a finger. She didn’t.

“You don’t have to cover for him, I know James punched you.”

“Damn right I did.” She heard from inside the flat. James was leaning against the arch that separated the living room from the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest and a look that must’ve frightened Remus because of how he bent his head down and then looked up again, nodding as to show he’d understood his lesson. (Y/N) stared at James with an eyebrow raised, he sighed and then said: “I’m going to get Lily back at Dorcas’. See you, dove.” With a crack in the air, James disappeared.

“What I said, earlier, it - it wasn’t true.” Remus began once they had settled on her velvet green sofa. She had found it on the street, a bit tattered but nothing magic couldn’t repair. “I’m an idiot but I’m just so scared. So frightened that.. that what I - what I am will put a higher target behind your back. I’m a half-breed, a monster, and people like me … No, no let me finish. People like me don’t deserve someone as pure as you so I thought…”

“You thought pushing me away, breaking my heart, would solve any of that?”

“Well, yes! If I’m not putting you in danger during the full moon, then I’m putting you in danger because they - they won’t hesitate to come after you if you are with me.”

“You bloody git. They are after all of us, even if we aren’t together, they’ll still come after me…”

“You don’t know that.”

“What are you saying, Remus? I’m a blood traitor in their eyes, my best friend is a muggleborn. My own great-grandmother would put me on the ground if she could see me right now so don’t try to make me understand you with this bullshit. You may be scared of love, of loving me, but I’m not. I love you and I’ve loved you for so long that I’m not going to give you up, not at times like this. I don’t care that you’re a werewolf, I’ve never cared. And I get that it’s hard for you, that you feel guilty when we try to alleviate your pain, but I’m fucking exhausted that you think I won’t be able to handle it, to handle you and your transformations.” She inched her face closer to his, a hand moving up to cradle his jaw while the other grabbed his hand. “I chose to be with you, knowing full well that it wouldn’t be easy and not because you’re a werewolf but because you are an insufferable arsehole who doesn’t let people in, who is afraid of hurting others while not realising that he’s still hurting them when he pushes them away.”

He didn’t respond, he just leaned further on the touch of her hand. It grounded him. How was he able to think, even for a second, that he would survive without her light-feathered touch, without her hands running through his hair or his arms that would give him goosebumps?

“I thought that you had grown tired of me or that you had never loved me the way I loved you. That you’d thought I wasn’t loyal to the Order, that somehow I would…”

“No, no, no. I’d never, (Y/N), truly, I’d never. I got lost, I- I thought someday you would realise how you had ruined your life by spending it alongside… me. You could do so much better, and yet…”

“I’m sure there are men out there, wizards or not, that are less frightened at the idea of love than you are, Remus. But they’re surely not you, because they’re not as funny, or smart, or witty, or sensible, or great as you. I’d probably get bored of them within the hour and then I’d be lost because you wouldn’t be beside me. The only man I want is you. No one else. You drill that into your head or next time you try to pull a stunt like this I’ll kill you.”

“Got it.” He whispered before leaning in even closer, his lips barely brushing hers. He wanted to be sure she was okay with this; he wanted to be absolutely sure he hadn’t completely messed up their relationship but for that he needed her to confirm it; to accept his apology. She did, sealing their lips desperately, trying to transmit everything she had just said but with a kiss. She had been so terrified that the only way to have him in her life would be through meetings to discuss missions and war plans; that she would never get to touch him, to kiss him, to hold him after a rough full moon again. “You wouldn’t actually kill me, right?” 

“No, but I would tell James to punch ten times harder.”

“Please don’t, he’s got a sick hook.”

“Then you better behave.”

She kissed him again, deeper this time. Their lips moved synchronised, familiar with each other; her hands travelled all the way up to his hair while his circled around her waist, bringing her closer. Chest against chest, with her legs propped up into his lap, they stayed like that for a long time before Remus laid her down on the sofa.

[covetyou]

no shortage of sordid

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, Joel Miller x m!OC (unnamed) rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: very dubious consent (not from reader), oral sex (m receiving from m), voyeurism/exhibitionism, degradation, brief mention of food and allusion to hunger, unnamed m!OC, m/m, Joel is not exactly gay he's just a domineering asshole, drug reference word count: 3.1k summary: Your deal with Joel has changed into something else, something different to when you first came to his door asking for help months ago. But, when you try to take him up on your new arrangement, you're met with something you never expected.

A/N: this was originally a much shorter deleted scene from the start of the dark caress of someone else. I took it out because it was too much and after writing that chapter I told myself I would avoid writing threesomes for as long as possible, because god damn it there's too many body parts. well, me, fuck you, this is threesome adjacent and not technically a threesome at all.

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Six days. That's how long it takes for you to cave and admit you want him. It takes you another two to do anything about it.

The first time you make the trip to Joel's apartment, no pills necessary, you're faced with silence and a door that won't open.

With an hour break between your jobs the next day, you make another attempt. But, you barely make it through the market when you see him trailing behind Tess, hulking figure parting the crowd with ease. You don't stop to see where they're going, instead choosing to turn on your heel and head back the way you came. The less you know, the better. Using the cards he handed back to you nine days ago, you stop by a street food vendor on your way to your next job, eating your first hot meal not only of that day, but that week, the warm food soothing more than just the emptiness in your stomach.

It takes you much longer to convince yourself to try on the third day. Your thoughts hadn't immediately gone to Joel Miller that morning. You had toyed with going for a walk, with seeing if you could pick up more work. But soon your hands ache, bones creaking in their joints as you clench them once again, trying to stave off the want in your belly with the pinch of nails digging into your palms.

Fuck it. You're going. Whether he's there or not, the need to get out of this apartment far outweighs the desire to stay warm inside it.

So, one gray trudge across a gray Boston to a gray apartment block later, you're at his door. Again.

Only this time there's not silence on the other side.

You can hear a murmur - undoubtedly Joel by the heavy rasp of a wry laugh that follows it - and a garbled whimper.

And, of course, you could leave. You could turn your back and leave Joel up to whatever it is, whoever it is, he's doing in there, but you don't. You knock, wanting him to know that even if he's occupied, you showed up. You came to him, not for pills, but for sex. For want, for desire, for the ease of the ache between your legs and the itch in your palms that just won't quit no matter how much you make yourself come.

Even with company, he doesn't make you wait long.

So it's not that you're not expecting the shuffle of two sets of feet. Or the thud on the door, heavy and dull like something big had caught itself before falling down. You knew he wasn't alone and, after all, the only thing you could really expect when visiting Joel was that nothing would be as expected.

No, that's not what surprises you at all.

What surprises you is when the door drifts open a fraction, a disembodied hand reaching through and pulling you through the gap, dragging you inside. What surprises you is tripping over his shoes, only they're not his shoes, the feet turned the wrong way up to belong to the all too familiar man standing before you.

What surprises you is seeing a man on his knees in front of Joel Miller.

It surprises you so much, you don't even notice as the door clicks shut and the hand that dragged you inside pulls you once again to stand at his side.

From here you can get a full view. There's a man on his knees in front of Joel. Joel's pants are unbuckled and pulled low on his hips. And then, the entire scene becomes very, very clear.

There is a man on his knees in front of Joel with his cock in his mouth.

So, when Joel looks at you with a glint in his eye, you're suddenly rooted to the spot, staring between him and the man beneath him. A smirk from Joel tells you you've been looking a little too long so, embarrassed and not quite sure what to do with yourself, you spin around, turning to inspect the back of a chair as if it was the most interesting thing in the room, not the man currently bobbing his head up and down on Joel's length.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart," he drawls from behind you. "Ain't no fun for me if you ain't lookin'."

As you always do where Joel is concerned, you do as you're told, taking a deep breath as you turn back to watch the man swallow down Joel's cock. You'd seen this kind of thing before - turned down the wrong street at the wrong time more than once only to see someone on their knees for someone else, earning yourself a wink or an insult for the privilege. But you never stayed to watch. Yet, here you are, staying and watching either because it was Joel, or because he asked, you weren't too sure.

The why doesn't exactly matter, you figure, not when your cheeks were rapidly heating and the wet patch in your panties was doing nothing but grow.

"Think he likes the audience too," Joel is saying, nodding down to the guy on his knees. "Don't you?"

You can see that he does. There's a hard bulge in the front of his pants, a bulge that looks much harder than the cock currently in his mouth.

"Dick always so hard for a straight guy. Think you like being a cocksucker." Joel gives the man an awkward pat on the head and huffs out a laugh, looking away from him to look back at you.

"Likin' what you see, sweetheart?" he jokes, casting dark eyes up and down your body. He can't see much. It's still fucking freezing, which is no surprise for a February in Boston, and you're still wrapped up against the elements because of it. But you know his gaze is looking through all of it, seeing through the layers straight down to your flesh, to your hard nipples and the wetness between your legs. He raises that infuriating, knowing, eyebrow at you and you roll your eyes.

"'m serious, you gotta keep lookin' or I'm never gonna come," he says then, and you drag your eyes back in an instant. You briefly wonder why - how - he would never come from this until it hits you.

Having a man suck his dick isn't Joel Miller's idea of a good time. Whoever the man on his knees is, he owes Joel. Maybe just like you did, or maybe worse. It doesn't matter, because you're not witnessing a blow job, you're witnessing a fucking business transaction.

And so you laugh - not at Joel, or the man, not really, but at the entire fucked situation and the world that brought you to this place.

"Y'hear that?" Joel growls down at the man. "She's laughin' at you."

Pinching his eyes shut, the man groans, and you swear you can see a dark patch starting to form on the front of his pants. It almost feels wrong, looking at another mans bulge like this when Joel's cock is right there, disappearing in and out of the strangers mouth at a languid pace. You can't even ask his name - his mouth too full to get out more than a garbled moan. Maybe names don't matter either.

Joel's eyes haven't left you, and yours haven't left the thatch of hair at the base of his cock. He's harder now, softness completely gone now that you're here to witness it. Giving and watching a blow job are so much different to what you expected. There's a wet sound in the air, for one. That rhythmic, wet noise of a throat being fucked was usually masked by your own moans, made easy to ignore by the distraction filling your mouth. But here, several steps away, it is loud.

"That's it. Keep your eyes right there," Joel murmurs before pointing to your outer layer. "Unzip your coat, lemme see. Get those pretty tits out for me, sweetheart. Don't mind him. He ain't gonna look. Are you?"

The man groans again, keeping his eyes shut as his head bobs on Joel's cock, taking an impressive amount of him down his throat with each movement. There's a small shake of his head, and while you don't believe him, you find you don't care either. You don't know the man on the floor any more than he knows you, and you have a feeling he's likely to keep his mouth shut once he leaves Joel's apartment today anyway.

A fraction of a second later, you're pulling your jacket open and yanking your sweater up above your tits, baring them to Joel. He murmurs something to himself, fisting his shirt tightly as he holds it up, exposing his belly. It strikes you then how damn distracted you had been every time before now - Joel's fingers, or tongue, or cock working you in such a way that you were brainless and oblivious to the physical affects you had on him. Now, its obvious. Like a man possessed, he watches you with blown eyes, his cock in full hardness now as the man below him works him over with his mouth and tongue.

Dragging cool fingers down your exposed chest, you meet your already pebbled nipples, pinching them and holding back a soft gasp. It's as much for you as it is to get a reaction from Joel, and if he didn't know you were wet before, he does now.

"That's it, play with 'em. And keep watching, sweetheart. Want you to watch when I come down his throat."

It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, but certainly not a chore. The man has picked up his pace, sucking and moaning around Joel's length as he slurps it down. He holds back a splutter when Joel's hips buck forward just as you pinch your nipples harder again, squeezing the flesh of your tits in cold palms.

"Fuuck, that's it, keep watchin'. You like that? Bet you want a taste of this dick too, huh?"

You nod, words stuck in your throat as Joel presses the mans head further into his crotch, rocking his hips to fuck lightly into his mouth.

"You needy and dripping over there ain't you?" he growls. He doesn't wait for you to nod, he doesn't need to. "Yeah you fuckin' are. Dirty fuckin' girl, watching my dick gettin' sucked. You like watching, don't you? Say it. Wanna hear it."

"I like it. I like watching, Joel," you say, barely more than a whisper as you become more and more entranced by Joel's cock in the mans mouth.

"Shit. Keep watchin'. Gonna come. Need you to watch."

It's all you can do to hold back a moan, your panties now probably ruined by your dripping, neglected cunt. This was not what you came here for, but watching Joel mumble obscenities and growl filth to you and the man on his knees as he gets his cock sucked was something you never knew you wanted before now. Sure, you want to touch, to play with him yourself. But watching is getting you wetter and wetter without even a finger or the press of your thighs to help you along the way.

"That's it. You keep suckin'. Fuck. Gonna bet you want this load in you not in him, right?"

Nodding frantically, you move a hand to your waistband, a soft plea on your lips, ready to pull your pants down any second. "Please - "

"Fuck - shit - well too bad, sweetheart. You look at that dick gettin' sucked. Shit - gonna come. Look at me. I said look at me."

Your eyes meet his just as they flutter closed. Joel groans a curse, his balls starting to empty into the throat of the man in front of him until he's suddenly tugging the mans hair, pulling his mouth off of his cock. The man gasps, swallowing down what he can as Joel rapidly strokes his spit soaked length, jerking the remains of his spend over the mans face and mouth. His eyes immediately flick to yours, a soft moan having left your own lips the moment Joel started to come, and he groans again, a final spurt coating the mans chin, soaking his facial hair. It's filthy. Not the most filthy thing you know Joel's done, but the most filthy thing you've ever seen him do from the outside. You can't help but stare on in silence, too captivated by the spurts of milky white dripping over the mans face, his eyes still screwed tight. You're aching and desperate to stick a hand down your pants, to feel how wet you are, to touch your clit and make yourself come as you try to hold yourself upright on shaky legs.

Through syrupy blood pulsing in your ears you hear Joel growl down at the man, removing his hand from his hair like it's burned his palm. Then, he's looking to you again, deep brown eyes searching your own before falling down, down to where your hand cups your breast and your other fists the waistband of your pants in a tight grip. He knows - knows that even if you came here already wet and wanting, you were even more so now.

And it's with a smirk and a sharp snap of his fingers that he pulls you back into the room. The man's eyes are open now, avoiding yours as he wipes cum from his face with his sleeve, covertly licking his lips for any remnant taste of Joel. You can't blame him, fuck knows you'd done the same when Joel had swiped a taste of himself over your own lips, but you can't help the jealousy at wanting to taste again too.

It's then you remember your exposed chest, and you yank your sweater back down without another glance to the man on his knees. Joel shakes his head, a shit eating grin spreading across his face as he strides across the room. He goes to the cupboard where you know he keeps a small amount of his stock, rifling through for a second before coming back with a baggy and tossing it down on the floor at the mans knees. He scrambles for it immediately, climbing to his feet and grabbing the door. Joel doesn't look at him again.

"Say hello to your wife for me," Joel calls over his shoulder, and the man scurries away without a word.

Now it's just you and him, his unbuttoned pants the only remaining evidence of what just happened.

You hesitate, partly in stunned silence, partly your brain having turned to liquid between your ears, all coherent thought lost the moment Joel's cum spurted across the mans face. But there's still that unsatisfied ache between your legs, throbbing and making your hand twitch, willing you to reach for him now that he's so close.

Joel sees it, he knows, knows what you came here for and knows what you won't be getting.

"Not today, sweetheart. Couldn't even if I tried," he says gesturing to his spent already dick tucked back into his pants. "Gotta head out again too, so whatever you got goin' on in those panties, you gotta deal with it yourself." He finishes with a wink and a tap to your chin before grabbing a small gym bag from the couch. You hadn't even seen it there, brain too occupied by more interesting things happening in this room at the time.

So it's no surprise, really, when your mouth starts running before your mind can process what it's doing. There's only one thing you're thinking of. One thing, aside from the throb in your core, that you can't stop thinking about, that envy won't let you give up.

"Would you - " your mouth gapes, opening and closing like a fish while your mind stutters and stops. You shouldn't even ask. There's no answer that can satisfy that particular itch. Not as quickly as you'd want it, at least. If he said yes, he'd already said nothing could happen right now, and if he said no, well... there was something about the thought of him denying you that did something to you too. There was no winning.

"Would I what?"

Of course, Joel had already heard. Even as he potters about the apartment, dumping stuff into the bag from places you've not been paying attention to. He stops, prompting you to go on.

"Would you... Would you come in my mouth like that? One time?"

He stares at you with his mouth open in disbelief. "You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly so fucking dry you can't speak anymore. You'd been salivating, able to practically taste the phantom flavor of Joel's cum on your tongue just a moment ago. Now, it was like you'd been chewing on bricks, tongue sticky and dry and your teeth feeling like an awkward jumble in your mouth.

"Well, shit. Call the press. Respectable good girl wants to be my little cocksucker -"

"Fine, if you're going to make fun, I don't -"

"Woah, hold on, I'm fuckin' with you. I ain't gonna turn down shutting that pretty mouth up with my dick. Gotta do it more than one time though, sweetheart. You around tomorrow?"

Between jobs and your dad having a day off, it would be a few days before you could come back. Shaking your head, you offer up Thursday instead. It's only three days away. You can make it three more days. Right?

"Thursday works for me. Come by in the afternoon. I'll come in that mouth, and then I'll play with that pussy while I get worked up again," he says before adding, with a cock of his head, "Then I'll come in that too."

And you're dumbstruck - the fantasy you concocted in your own head far surpassed by Joel's own, seemingly thought up right on the spot as he maneuvers you out into the hallway.

"See you then, sweetheart."

He pushes you out of the door, fingers electrified where they touch your shoulder. You expect the door to snap shut behind you, like it has so many times before, but he follows you out into the hallway, locking the door behind him. With a wink, he stalks off down the corridor, legs carrying him out of the apartment block too quick for you to keep up.

Later that night, alone in bed and wondering how the hell you're going to last two more days like this, you rub yourself stupid to thoughts of Joel's cock in a mouth that isn't yours.

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