#but there's also a learning curve + the distractions as well

[just-jammin]

having only 2 usb ports in your laptop and no extension ports can so weird things for your setup

[mostly-imagines]

NSFT Alphabet

jason todd x afab!reader

warnings: >18 i’ll block ur ass stay away 18+

A = AFTERCARE

Aftercare is just as important to him as sex itself, if not more so. He’ll lay with you until you catch your breath, giving light kisses to the nearest part of your body. Once you’re back to baseline, he’ll get a warm rag to clean you up, being more gentle than he needs to be with your sensitive body. If you want it, he’ll grab one of his shirts for you to wear and pull it over your head for you. He’ll cover you up in your blankets and hold you close, murmuring to you how pretty you are, how good you did for him, how much he loves you.

B = BODY

His favorite body part of his own is his arms. He likes how strong he is, plus they emphasize his frame which plays into his size kink too. For you, it’s your waist. As we’ll discuss more later, he loves holding onto your hips during sex and he’s a big fan of kissing down your stomach as a way to initiate.

C = CUM

He prefers to come inside of you most of the time, but he likes coming in your mouth or on your body too. He will not come on your face though, he feels like it’s disrespectful to you, even if you’re into it. He’s a big guy and he comes a lot—more than he wished he would. That's part of the reason he’d rather come in you than on you, he thinks it’s embarrassing how much comes out. The first couple of times you had sex he’d tried to distract you with kisses as he came, hoping you wouldn’t notice it. Once he learns that you don’t mind it though, even like it, it eases his anxieties considerably.

D = DIRTY SECRET

He’s definitely masturbated once or twice when you were asleep next to him and he didn’t want to wake you. He felt gross about it but you looked so good with the way his shirt rode up against the curve of your ass, your panties on display. Your cheek was mushed up against the pillow next to him and he wanted to kiss you silly more than anything, but you had to be up early in the morning. So he took care of it himself, admiring your pretty face. No, he’ll never tell you that happened.

E = EXPERIENCE

He’s had sex just enough to know that he has a big dick and has to be careful when he’s fucking someone. Before you it was mostly a method of blowing off steam, but it wasn’t something he craved like he does with you. There was always minimal kissing, if any, and it was more procedural than anything. So when it comes to romantic sex, his experience was 0 but that makes it that much better. He didn’t have too much experience otherwise and he was fine with that. He had more important things to worry about than sex. That was, until he met you.

F = FAVORITE POSITION

He likes anything where he can hold your hips the most. So cowgirl and missionary are never misses, especially for how well he’s able to see your face. He also likes fucking you against the wall, it makes for easy access to kiss you. In spite of how much he loves seeing your expressions during sex, he can’t deny how much he loves holding your hips in place during doggy. His least favorites are probably prone bone and reverse cowgirl, they’re too impersonal and dispassionate.

G = GOOFY

He’s going to take it very seriously the first handful of times. He’s not taking any risks about hurting you or making the experience anything short of extremely pleasurable for you. And in his mind, to do that he needs to focus. After you get more comfortable with each other though, he starts to relax and trust himself to be able to take care of you, even with a more laid-back attitude. The silliest sex you have will be when you’re drunk/tipsy, it’s very smiley and giggly. Generally, he’ll make jokes now and again, smile at your smiles, but he’s still more serious about sex than not.

H = HAIR

He’ll trim to keep up appearances, especially after he meets you, but it’s not something he’s overly concerned about. For you, he’s really truly completely neutral about whether or not you shave, but he’s likely to encourage you not to, if not only so you know you don’t have to change anything for him. But he won’t blink twice either way.

I = INTIMACY

Sex with you is always intimate for him. He tells you he loves you during it often, praising you constantly. He brushes your hair back when it gets messy and wipes your tears away with a gentle hand. He’ll call you beautiful and kiss you nice as he fucks you, holding your hand all the while.

J = JACK OFF

He rarely needs to get himself off, really only if he’s away on a mission for a while. It’s definitely not the preferred circumstances but he’ll make do when he has to. He feels like a fucking perv when he thinks about you while he’s doing it, but he can’t come otherwise. He knows you wouldn’t care but he still feels gross about it. The way he remedies this is usually by communicating with you directly, telling you how much he misses you and how much he wants you there with him.

K = KINKS

Above all else, he has a major size kink. He absolutely loves how much bigger than you he is and it gets him going at the most random times. He likes being stronger than you and making you go/stay where he wants you. On a related note, he also likes to restrain you. The implied deepness of the trust you have in him turns him on so bad. Plus, he likes being in control, and you not being able to wiggle gives him the chance to take care of you however he wants. Edging is another one he likes but he’s not always so good at it. He has a hard time denying you and when you’re begging him so sweetly to let you come…who is he to say no? Though, if you’ve been a bit of a brat he’ll be merciless about it. On the flip side, sometimes he’ll overstimulate you but it’s not his favorite of the two because he can’t always handle seeing you cry like that. But he does like the idea of you getting lost in so much pleasure that you don’t know what to do with yourself.

L = LOCATION

His favorite place to fuck you is anywhere in your apartment. Your bed, shower, kitchen, couch, the rug…He likes it a) because it’s private and he’s free to take care of his girl whenever he wants and b) he likes seeing you in the same spot going about your day where he’d made you come just a few hours ago. He’s also not opposed to subtle car sex, especially for going down on one another. He’s not a big fan of public stuff, if he were to do it, it would be in a situation where he was certain you wouldn’t get caught. He’s too private to get off on the risk and frankly, he doesn’t much like the potential of someone else seeing you the way he gets to see you.

M = MOTIVATION

He gets turned on by just about anything you do. If you wear tank tops, his clothes, shirt and no pants, those will all get him going. Then there’s things like play fighting, seeing you stick up for yourself (especially against him), when you yell, if you just touch him. He really is in love with you and everything that you do.

N = NO

JTLHGF!jason is mainly dominant, but he can be submissive for you if you approach it the right way. You’d have to be subtle and encouraging or else his pride will get in the way. Anything him or you do in these times would be very soft and gentle, more vanilla than anything for the sake of reassurance. His biggest no here is restraints. Sex requires a lot of trust for him and as much as he does trust you, he would feel much too vulnerable tied up and he wouldn’t like it. However, when he’s the one in control he’s not afraid to be more…adventurous. That being said, he wouldn’t be into choking you or hitting you. I think even if you were very clearly into it, it would make him feel bad about himself on multiple levels. He doesn’t want to hit you, even sexually, and hates the idea of his hands around your neck. Public stuff makes him uncomfortable and degradation is a hard no for him.

O = ORAL

He prefers going down on you by a mile. He’s usually hesitant to let you do it, he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to or for you to potentially lose any pleasure during sex. He really does think it should be all about you and he has a hard time grasping that making him feel good makes you feel good too. He likes to hold your hands when he eats you out, or your waist. He doesn’t want to lose any physical contact with you—it’s a very intimate thing and he’ll treat it as such. He’s also been known to rub soothing patterns into your waist or wrap his arms around your thighs to hold them apart. When you give him head it’s overwhelming for him. He denies himself of it so much that he can’t handle it when he actually gets it. He likes to hold your hands here sometimes too, but more often than not he’s holding your hair out of your face so he can see you—the gentle weight of his opposite hand on the back of your head. He’ll struggle to catch his breath, lips parted.

P = PACE

It all depends on the mood for him. He can and will switch it up as needed. He can be very intense and rough, fast thrusts and heated kisses. This can be passionate or angry sex. He can also take it very slow and sensual, and depending on his mood, this can be either very romantic or very torturous.

Q = QUICKIE

He doesn’t really like quickies that much, he definitely prefers to take his time with you. Quickie’s don’t really allow him to prep you properly, something that’s incredibly necessary when having sex with him. Anyways he wants to make sure he’s able to give you the best experience possible and he can’t do that if he’s rushing. No, he really prefers to take as much time with you as possible.

R = RISK

As mentioned, he’s not much for risky situations. The riskiest he’ll get is car sex or sex at the manor. He might make out with you in an alleyway but he won’t full-on do it with you outside. He doesn’t want to be caught, doesn’t want to worry about it when he has more important things to focus on.

S = STAMINA

He can go for several rounds most nights and even needs to often. He feels bad about it sometimes though, he feels like one round should be enough for him and he shouldn’t need to take even more from you. Once he eventually gets it through his head that it’s okay for him to need more, he’s relentless. The thing about him is that he requires little to no recovery time post-orgasm before he’s on you again so you might have to remind him to slow down a little.

T = TOYS

He’s not the biggest fan of toys, honestly. He doesn’t like the idea of a piece of plastic making you come, doing his job for him. It also means he’s less hands on and he doesn’t like that at all. That’s not to say he wouldn’t use them ever, he just wouldn’t go out of his way to make it happen. If you had a vibrator or something and you wanted to use it he probably would, if not only so you don’t use it by yourself instead. Beyond that there’s not too much I see him wanting to use, nothing very intense for sure.

U = UNFAIR

He’s a big tease but doesn’t always have the capacity to see it through. If you beg him just the right way he just has to give you what you want. Until you’re able to crack that code though, he seems like an unbeatable force. He’s constantly touching you and it’s hard for you to tell if it’s absentminded or if there’s something more behind them. He’s an expert at attacking that one spot on your neck and getting you just as desperate as he is within a matter of minutes.

V = VOLUME

He’s a groaner and a grunter, low and deep. He, maybe intentionally, stops himself from moaning more often than not, especially when you’re first together. The best way to get him to make noise is to suck just below his jawline, caress over his v-line, or blow him. He can’t control himself when you do any of that.

W = WILD CARD

Jason secretly loves it when you give him as much shit as he gives you. He loves when you tease him, when you tell him “no, we’re not having sex you were being mean.” He can’t stop himself from smiling when you yell at him and he doesn’t even wish he could. As much as he doesn’t want to be submissive, he loves it when you don’t either.

X = X-RAY

Yeah so he’s 8.5 inches hard. He’s a big guy, it stands to reason that he’d have a big dick. It’s fat too, enough to make you cry the first time you take him.

Y = YEARNING

His sex drive is pretty fucking high after getting with you. It operates half as a means of affection and half as a stress reliever. And boy does he need stress relief. There’s phases where he wants you as much as every day, but more often than not it’s like 3-4 times a week.

Z = ZZZ

He wants you to fall asleep before him afterwards, he thinks it’s rude or something if he dozes off first. He’ll often brush his fingers up and down your back, easing you into sleep. If he’s not tired afterwards he’ll read while you nap on his chest, comforted by the in and out of your breaths.

[dwaekkicidal]

👾 anon making a comeback!

what about 2min teaching another member who just got a gf how to fuck her properly? like, they have a toy or something for the other member to practice on while 2min demonstrates on reader?

i could imagine the other member thrusting into the toy wrongly and lee know just goes ‘nononono, like this’ and thrusts into reader for the nth time and overstims them.

while one of 2min is fucking reader, the other is trying to make reader stop being so loud and shoves their cock into readers mouth.

and to top it all off, since reader literally cannot stop convulsing theres a bit of collar play and 2min tugs on the collar when they need to and theyre unphased but reader is out here drooling all over themselves

im nasty, what can i say? 👾👾👾

oh my fucking god?? U ARE NASTY BUT THANK U FOR THIS

this is 1k words LMFAO oopsie..

something about them making the other member use a toy instead of their own girlfriend is so.... humiliation kink at its finest

like them saying something along the lines of "if you can't fuck her properly, you can't get her at all" and its not even their girlfriend to make such bold commands?? ugh

i can picture this being hard/mean dom! jeongin's awakening

so lets picture this. virgin!innie who hasnt even seen a vagina until the first time you two got intimate. and even then, the few times you two have been intimate only included mutual masturbation

so i bring you!! closeted mean dom 2min who offers their help to their poor maknae!

he goes to them first, expressing his worries about not performing well enough for his girlfriend- and about how he doesn't want to embarrass himself by not being able to pleasure you properly!

so he gets 2 of his favorite hyungs in his room seated on either side of you. their hands are all over you, from showing jeongin how to finger you properly, and describing to him how to curve his fingers the way you like it.

and how do they know he's performing well enough? well that would be all thanks to the fleshlight they bought him :)

its clear so they can see through it, watching his fingers every move. and he has such long, pretty fingers, so it would be such a shame if they went to waste? "thank god we're teaching him this too, right y/nnie?"

they make you cum twice on their fingers, one time each man so they can give their own two advice and show off their techniques. so can they really blame you for subconciously fighting back when seungmin slides his cock inside of you?

not really... but that wont stop minho from forcing both of your wrists into one of his. it also wont stop seungmin from thrusting even harder into you, quickly getting distracted with your tight cunt and forgetting the whole goal of the situation

he basically uses you as his own personal fleshlight until you both cum, jeongin cumming around the same time. you and jeongin are barely given a break before minho is pouncing with an order for the maknae to "get to it"

minho's a lot bigger and fucks into you faster and harder than seungmin, rolling his hips roughly and teaching jeongin to do the same. he sometimes even compares it to certain dance moves from their choreos and will slow his own thrusts to watch closely and make sure the maknae is moving correctly

once he's sure the boy has learned, minho's so rough with it that your eyes feel permanently rolled to the back of your head, his tip constantly pummeling into your sensitive walls.

it gets to the point where you cant control yourself when your nails start to rake down his arm! >< its just "too much!"

it makes him mad and he slaps your hand away, not wanting marks, only to be made even more upset when you push your hand against his lower stomach with begs for him to give you a break

but he has no plans to stop, not even after you've came yet again. and who are you to give him orders right now??? so he whistles for seungmin to help, and youre absolutely stunned when a piece of leather slides around your neck and gets buckled by the puppy man himself

he tosses the end of the leash to minho and helps him flip you over, manhandling you onto your hands and knees

at this point, jeongins completely zoned out. he's not nearly as overstimulated as you, but as his 2nd orgasm builds and as he's forced to watch some of his closest friends pound his dear girlfriend int his mattress, he feels like he's floating on another planet

so what happens when you're finally let go by seungmin and minho? what do you think happens when they leave your apartment, after teaching jeongin about aftercare, and you're left alone, still sensitive with your oddly quiet boyfriend?

not sleeping. thats for sure :) you're lucky he loves you and doesn't want to push your body too far, yet. so he'll only fuck you to orgasm once, but he's gonna be like a new man reborn, hips fucking into you faster than either of the men did earlier.

they didnt teach him this, but it comes all too naturally when he shoves his fingers into your mouth and pushes down against your tongue

the drool that drips down his wrist is almost enough to make him laugh, but the little semblance of jealousy in his veins tells him to do something more

he uses the spit on his fingers to pinch and massage one of your nipples, all while the other set of fingers are tangles in your hair and holds you flat against him.

he's so deep and your body has been through so much the last few hours that your own orgasm takes you by surprised, your legs shaking aggressively as your body convulses as best as it can with his iron grip on your head

& his mouth is so filthy as he uses you as his fleshlight- telling you that youre a little slut for enjoying the other men using you freely while he was forced to watch. he tells you how hes gonna use every last thing he saw you enjoy against you, from the leash & collar to the way your body was so happy at their rough hands on your- HIS pretty pussy

once hes finished he essentially redoes everything they did earlier for aftercare, adding in his own "spice" by running you a hot shower and kissing every inch of your body as he helps you wash off

he definitely gets hard again, but he'll deal with it himself while you sleep.

maybe if youre lucky, he'll wake you up with that pretty cock all up in your tummy again <3

Taglists: (red=can't be tagged)

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

[mecachrome]

not sure whether excerpts from oscar's book have alr been posted here but i found some of the quotes from the author's exclusive interviews with j.sera & rené quite interesting and thought i'd gather them in one place ❓__❓

i always love hearing insights on his karting days and how his unique rc bg & transition from australian to european karting shaped his racecraft... also notable that Every Single person who ever speaks about oscar is just like "well more than anything... he was SMART" 😭 obsessed with baby oscar already learning to dispense his energy in understated / calculative / strategic ways... more below the cut:

another thing i find quite interesting is how because oscar started karting in a relatively smaller scene that wasn't quite as competitive or talent-heavy as in europe, he was always too young/small for the classes he competed in (as with rc racing). of course he was never quite as egregiously undersized as lando but it's kind of fun that they have very similar karting lore in that aspect. not from the book but self-provided visuals:

also love how much the seras talk about his style, from his smooth inputs and clean driving to how much open-wheel potential he exhibited from the very beginning T__T

as for rené's insights on oscar's time at prema, i also find them interesting because while they corroborate a lot of surface level details about his junior campaigns that we're alr familiar with it's cool to be reminded of his growth from f3 (zero front row starts, winning more off consistency and competitor error than any personal dominant performance) to putting it all together in the second half of f2 (consecutive run of poles/fr wins to end the season).

also interesting to hear that THE most angry rené ever saw him was after his f3 monza penalty, because oscar's demeanor & reactions to adversity get discussed a lot and while he's always been very level-headed and i'd argue his core personality has not changed much if at all over the past 5 years, you can still see how he was just that touch less filtered and more defensive during his junior days. oscar is definitely still someone who refuses to take blame if he knows he wasn't at fault and who will never give credit to others when the work was mostly done by him ("i was the one driving" re: mweb helping him) but there has been a fairly noticeable growth curve from the guy who said he felt Physically Weak at the fr finale because of how nervous he was, who said he was grateful to be in school because it distracted him from his "habit of overthinking" that he was trying to get rid of, who complained extensively at monza about the novalak / beckmann incidents and then said "seems to be quite a common theme with liam if i'm honest 😐" re: continued contact in the press conf, to the guy today who reacts to deleted laps with a dry 👍 and stealthily downplays racing incidents to the point of not even calling them "incidents" at all.

there's also a bit from rené about how close he is to chris piastri and how he traveled to melbourne from italy Solely to attend his 50th birthday party, and basically how the piastris are just Good People and that oscar's demeanor is what sets him apart. which i thought was sweet :')

also bonus interesting media quote from laurent rossi, which i've seen before but don't remember in its entirety — specifically the part saying that the other academy drivers "weren't as curious" and basically calling oscar the only smart one of the bunch.... 😭😭😭 this freaking guy

[ruggiesbiologicalfather]

i've been struck by inspiration

here's my ranking of twisted wonderland students by how likely i'd be to let them behind the wheel of a car. this is gonna be a long one bc i'm including explanations of course. (and i know that in-game it's rare to be able to drive, we're ignoring that and pretending it's common to drive around)

1. Leona: canonically, he can drive and drive well. i feel like this was an easy one. but it makes sense!

2. Vil: he just has so many random skills that i feel like driving would be no problem at all. honestly, there's not much that i think vil CAN'T do

3. Trey: everything about him screams Responsible Driver. he would definitely play chauffeur for heartslabyul whenever they need to go somewhere. AND he'd have snacks in the glove compartment. 10/10 ride

4. Jamil: he can absolutely drive well - near perfect i'd argue. what's the alternative? let KALIM drive? get real. it's his duty to get where he needs to go safely

5. Jack: the self-discipline that this boy possesses is unrivaled. he would be locked in behind the wheel. he spent so long becoming the best driver he can be and by god, he's gonna prove it

6. Deuce: LISTEN TO ME, LISTEN! he's really good on that blastcycle which is more dangerous and difficult (said as a former bike/atv guy). a car is nothing to him. plus he's on his Honor Student streak so he's trying his best. my only worry is speed. slow it down, friend

7. Epel: similar to deuce. farm kids learn to drive really early in their lives. HOWEVER... driving safely?? hmmmm... his biggest flaws are going too fast and whipping around curves when no one else is on the road

8. Riddle: he would definitely follow all the road rules. to the letter. every trip would take an extra 30 minutes to an hour. no music, windows up, silence. he won't even let YOU be on your phone lest he become distracted. also ROAD RAGE. interstate driving would get very scary

9. Ortho: fuck it, let the robot give it a shot

10. Azul: i feel like once he figured out the mechanics, he would be fine on the road. however, if he got pulled over he would definitely argue with the cop and get us both arrested. so... i'm gonna pass

11. Jade: yes, we're getting where we need to go. but... nefariously. and there's something in the trunk. i feel like he'd also randomly go "oops" just to freak out his passengers. "what do you mean OOPS?" "don't worry about it :)"

12. Ruggie: there's a wildness to my boy that drove his ranking down. he would definitely drive a jeep with the doors off. music blasting, wind whipping around everywhere. it would be a fairly safe drive but not a particularly enjoyable one. also i would fall out

13. Silver: i don't know, i feel like he would be chill. i put him low bc briar valley doesn't have cars so his driving education would be quite scarce and he'd be a new driver. but he could get the job done. probably

14. Sebek: similar to silver but he needs to relax. malleus is fine, we're just going to walmart

15. Ace: he just gives off the vibe of "16-year-old kid in the car his dad bought for him." never lets anyone merge, hits curbs, can never figure out the speed limit, etc, etc. even worse if deuce is in the car! "ace, watch out for the mailbox!" "don't tell me what to- *BANG*"

16. Cater: gay people can't drive

17. Rook: distracted driver. god forbid there's wildlife around, he would turn 180 in his seat to look at it. this Oh Shit Handle is getting some use. also i KNOW his car would be shit. i don't care that his family is rich, he's driving a 2003 hyundai sonata

18. Floyd: LISTEN! there's a 50/50 shot that everything goes perfectly fine. like as long as he's in a good mood, he can get the job done. you definitely just have to check in before you buckle up. get ready to tuck and roll

19. Malleus: what is a car?

20. Idia: there's so much anxiety there i feel like one thing would go slightly left and he'd almost pass out. he's white-knuckling the wheel, praying that no one else is on the road. it's alright buddy, you can be a passenger princess

21. Kalim: No.

22. Grim + Yuu: okay, for this one it's a joint effort. yuu at the wheel and grim on the pedals. there's so much chaos and screaming. four-way stops don't exist. yellow lights are green and red lights are yellow. the horn has not stopped honking since the engine started. this is an emergency situation ONLY. like someone is bleeding out in the backseat and no one is answering their phones

23. Lilia: absolutely not. i will walk

[midnighthazee]

Greenridge ABO Series

a/n: This chapter is not for the faint of heart.... grab your wine or chamomile tea and buckle up!😰

Series Masterlist Masterlist

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, violence, mentions of past rape/trauma, explicit language, SMUT, 18+ MDNI, aggression, rough sex, creampie, marking/biting, pet names, somnophilia (if you squint)

WC: 5003

Chapter 10

It was the next morning, Chan and his betas were back at the Ahgase house ready to have breakfast. He hoped to create a lasting friendship with this pack, learning from them and being a more patient and fair alpha like Jaebeom. Maybe he was being too reckless, Jaebeom’s suggestion of talking it out on his mind all night. Was he being too impulsive? Maybe talking would be an easier way to solve this problem.

 “You sleep at all?” Seungcheol asked Chan with a chuckle.

“Not really.” Chan forced a smile.

They knocked, the door swinging open and an energetic Jackson bringing them into a big hug. “So good to see you guys. Come in.”

They followed him in, through the house and onto the back deck. The deck was elevated to the second story, overlooking the yard below. The treeline and mountains were an inviting view as they stepped outside. There was a large table out here as well. It looked to be a marble slab with metal railings in a zigzag formation supporting it. There were also fourteen chairs, metal framed with a cushion and curved back.

Jaebeom and the rest of the pack were at the table already, chatting amongst themselves when they stepped outside. Jaebeom smiled warmly as they entered.

“I figured it was such a beautiful morning, we could enjoy the fresh air while we eat. Please…. sit.” Jaebeom said. “We have mimosas and breakfast is on the way.”

Once everyone was seated, Jaebeom stood. “Here’s to our alliance. To new friendships and brotherhood.”

“Here’s to taking down that bastard of an alpha.” Yugyeom snickered.

They all raised their glasses in a toast, sipping the mimosas. Jaebeom sat down as the ladies from last night brought out breakfast dishes and placed them on the runner decorating the center of the table. There were several gourmet options, Hyunjin and Jisung practically salivating at the sight. 

There were eggs benedict, bananas foster belgian waffles, lemon blueberry scones, buttermilk pancakes, smoked sausage, apple maple bacon  and seasonal fruit. It was just as luxurious as the dinner from yesterday.

It also tasted just as good, the boys definitely eating too much. Jisung’s cheeks were so full the whole time as they conversed through breakfast. It was a lovely meal but unfortunately the time had come to part ways, Chan wanting to get back home.

“We will definitely have to invite all of you over for dinner as a thank you soon.” Chan noted.

“We don’t wanna impose on your omega so make sure you ask her first.” Jaebeom says, nodding towards Chan.

“Of course. But I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. And please bring your omegas with you too. I think it would be good for y/n.” Chan insisted.

“That’s a great idea. We will have to set that up.” Seungcheol smiled.

“I will wait for your invitation.” Jaebeom said with a smile. 

“Me too.” Seungcheol pointed his finger at him. “And don’t forget to email me that document when you get home.”

“I won’t. You should have it by four. If not, I might have gotten distracted so just call me.” Chan stated.

Jaebeom nodded and off the two packs went. They got into their respective cars and pulled off, heading back home. Chan sent a text in the group chat before pulling off.

Hey. Alliance secured! On our way back. 

We should be home in a couple hours!

Jisung texted too:

How’s y/n?

They were nearly an hour into their drive, Hyunjin was playing DJ, rapping along to the songs, while Jisung played his video game. They only had a few hours left, but Jisung complained he had to pee. Chan reluctantly pulled over at the nearest rest stop and let him. Chan took the opportunity too, Hyunjin having gone before they left. After a couple minutes, they were back on the road, driving towards home on the local highway.

“Jinnie, babe, are you trying to put me to sleep?” Chan asked.

“No.” Hyunjin smirked. “Don’t like classical music?”

“Not while I’m driving…and tired.” 

“I can drive and you rest.” Hyunjin offered.

“It’s fine. I just wanna get back home. Then I can rest”

Jisung snored dramatically from the backseat.

“Yah! I’m changing it.” Hyunjin glared, making Jisung laugh.

The music changed from a piano lullaby to an upbeat, bass booming song. Chan drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, singing along.

“Better?” Hyunjin asked, scratching the back of Chan’s head briefly.

“Yes.” Chan smiled, eyes focused on the road.

“Better, Ji?” Hyunjin shot daggers at him

“I guess.” Jisung shrugged, making Hyunjin roll his eyes.

CRASH!

Glass shatters, pieces flying everywhere as the car is jerked sideways. The car swerves, flipping one… two… three times before landing upside down in the ditch on the side of the road. The underside of the car smoked a bit as it creaked and settled. A dark van, coincidentally being the only car on the road, squealing to a stop. Five large men climbed out, hurrying over to the car.

Inside, Chan groaned, looking over to his betas. They all were hanging upside down, superficial cuts from the glass decorating their skin. The car was bent and crushed, glass shards and fragments of metal littering the roof.

“Hyunjin? Jisung?” He called out, coughing as he reached towards Hyunjin.

“Mmm….what happened?” Jisung muttered from the back, his hand going to his head only to find a trail of blood near his hairline.

“I don’t know.” Chan looked over at Hyunjin. “Jinnie?”

Hyunjin didn’t answer, unconscious as the seatbelt held him up.

Chan hurried to undo his own seatbelt, dropping to the roof. He winced but reached for Hyunjin, feeling a heartbeat in his neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when suddenly his door was forced open. Two men pulled him out, sticking a needle in his neck before he could realize he wasn’t being rescued. He shook from their hold, landing a punch to one of the men before his body went limp and they carried him over to the van.

“Chan! Chan!” Jisung yelled, trying to undo his seatbelt but it was jammed.

Two more men were pulling out Hyunjin, making Jisung squirm in his seatbelt. He was fighting against the restraint as he tried to save his mates. Three more came over to his side and pried the door open. It didn’t give easily, the frame bent out of shape. They had to use tools but eventually got it open.

“No. Get the fuck away from me.” Jisung growled.

The men just laughed, one reaching in quickly to slice the seatbelt. Jisung dropped to the roof but before he could gather himself, they also stuck him with a needle. His body too went limp and they dragged him from the car.

Carefully turning around to see Minho, you see him resting, small snores coming from his mouth. You attempted to slip away but his hold tightened. You tried to remain calm and peel his arm from you. He groaned, shifting as he slept. Looking at the nightstand, the clock informed you it was half past ten. The rest of the boys were probably eating breakfast or about to.

You tried again once more, but this time he opened his eyes. He looked at you, breathing in your smell and smirking. He leaned forward, kissing your cheek and down your neck.

You tensed and whispered, “Minho?”

With all the resolve he could muster, he pulled back.

“You should go. Before I lose control.” he whispered.

“It’s your rut, isn’t it?”

He nodded, eyes squeezed shut. 

You fully turned around to face him, his face twisted as if in pain. You caressed his cheek, and his face relaxed. His eyes opened, a deep honey color to them, as they looked into yours. You don't know if it was his scent clouding your better judgment or the fear of making him mad, but you didn’t leave.

“Y/n…please. I don’t know how much longer I can hold back. I don’t want to hurt or scare you.” Minho whispered, the restraint evident in his voice.

“No.” 

He looked at you wide eyed.

“As your omega, I should help you.”

“It’s too soon.” Minho sat up, trying to clear his head. 

“I am still getting over everything they did to me, yes. But I care about you all so much. I don’t want you in pain or suffering if I can do something to help.” You said, resting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re my pack now. I didn’t get to help Jeongin but I can help you.”

“Chan should be first to lay claim to you. He’s the head alpha.” Minho says, looking straight ahead.

“But you need help now.”

Annoyed, Minho abruptly got out of bed. 

“I know you care for me. And because you do, you won’t hurt me like the Nykos did. At least let me take the edge off.”

“No. Go get Felix or someone.” he practically growled.

You stood up and walked over to him, resting a hand on his upper arm. “Minho…please let me-”

He cut you off, pushing you back into the wall and pinning your hands on either side of your head with a growl. Startled, you let out a little squeal. Your heart began to race and you grew nervous of his next move as felt the heat radiating off his body. 

“See. You’re afraid.” he stated.

  You could feel his breath on your face as you were engulfed in his rut scent. God he smelled so good.

“I don’t…” he trailed off, releasing you.

“Minho..” you say in a small voice.

“I don’t want you to hate me.” His voice was barely audible.

“This is my choice. I’m choosing this. I would not hate you for this. Please Minho…” you say, reaching up to stroke his cheek. 

He sighed heavily, leaning into your touch. “I’ll try my best to be gentle.”

You smile up at him, melting his tough exterior. He smashes his lips onto yours, lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as you make out. His tongue pushes past your lips, dancing with yours as he deepens the kiss. You could feel the warmth going straight to your core.

Of course you were nervous and scared. You had never had a good experience since it was always forced on you. This time, however, felt empowering since it was your choice. You were still worried how he would act but he was your soulmate so it shouldn’t be awful, right? Not like the other hybrids who used you and were extremely rough, not caring about your well-being.

Minho laid you down on the bed, quickly ripping off your clothes. He kissed you hungrily, trailing down your neck and attaching his lips to your nipple. You gasp, it felt amazing. You had them bitten and yanked, but never sucked and the feeling had you floating.

He sucked both buds before kissing lower, down to your core. The other hybrids never went down on you, not caring about your pleasure. If they wanted a taste, they briefly used their fingers. So when Minho swipes his tongue through your folds, collecting your wetness on his tongue, you moan.

Your moan excites him, his throbbing dick twitching in his boxers. He was definitely happy to be the first to show you how sex should be. He licked and suckled, prodding your hole with his tongue. Your juices were so sweet - the sweetest he’s ever tasted. He slurped and circled your clit, making your back arch.

You had cum a few times, just enough to know when it was about to happen. And right now, Minho had you already about to snap. Your hand found its way to Minho’s hair, and you tugged in the effort to ground yourself. He groaned, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his tongue and he lapped at the juices. Your legs tried to squeeze closed around his head but he pinned them down.

As you came down, he crawled up your body with a mischievous look on his face. His eyes were so dark now they were almost black, displaying just how much his control was slipping away. You shuddered at his predatory gaze.

“Minho?” your voice was barely above a whisper.

He didn’t answer, too lost in the moment as his instincts took over. 

He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding harshly inside. You wince, a pained groan slipping from your mouth. He was big and stretching you out. You swear none of the other hybrids were this thick. Your pussy wasn’t used to this and should have been prepped but his rut didn’t allow for the patience to do so.

He groaned as he thrusted, you were so tight, gripping him as you tried to adjust to him. You breathed through it, wanting to support your alpha. You could already feel the bond strengthening between you two - between the pack too as you were claimed by one of the alphas. It awakened something inside you and you relaxed underneath him as the pleasure overtook you.

“Fuck you feel so good, baby.” he moaned.

You ran your fingers along his chiseled body, taking in every curve and contour. He had a few minor scars here and there, although not as much as you did. His skin was soft and warm under your touch, electricity flowing through your fingertips from the contact.

You could feel the coil inside you tightening. It felt good…too good. Wow it’s never felt like this. Moans were falling from your mouth as he continued thrusting. He latched onto your nipples once more and you arched into his touch, one hand tangled in his hair. 

“Ugh…you’re so tight, kitten.” Minho groaned.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, his dick hitting deeper inside you. He continued to hit your cervix and you were seeing stars. The coil snapped and you came with a loud moan of his name.

“Fuck!” he gritted, spurting his cum deep inside you.

His hips stuttered as he filled you, gripping your hips. Your chest heaved as you came down from your high. His smell was intoxicating and you felt like you were on cloud nine. Was it always going to be like this?

He slipped his cock from your heat, making you wince. You wanted more - it felt too good. He must have read your mind because he flipped you onto your hands and knees and thrusted back into you. You gasped, clenching around him as you gripped the sheets. 

“Fuck..kitten.” He growled.

He began thrusting into you and you could feel the orgasm building yet again. You didn’t think he could fill you any deeper, but somehow he did. You didn’t want it to stop as it felt so incredible. You would have gotten over your fears faster and helped Jeongin if you had known it would be this mind-blowing.

Leaning forward, Minho flushed with your back, he hit your sweet stop repeatedly. Your orgasm was approaching fast as he continued to grunt and growl in your ear, the sound of skin slapping nearly drowned out by your moans.

“Minho…” you whined.

“I know, kitten.” Minho whispered.

He leaned into your hair, sniffing at your scent gland. Your scent mixed with your arousal was making him feral. He pushed your hair to one side, exposing your scent gland even more. It was then he was reminded of the branding Lewis put on you - because it certainly wasn’t the bite of a soulmate.

His eyes glowed red with anger at the idea of his soulmate being marked by another hybrid. You were his. You belonged to his pack and no one else's. He was so angry, he couldn’t see straight. He couldn’t stand to see that alpha’s mark on you. He opened his mouth and bit down near your scent gland.

You cried out, pain pouring into every muscle, tissue, and vein in your body. Your body shook, your orgasm washing over you. You rode the high, legs shaking as he latched onto you. He groaned as you squeezed around his cock but he didn’t let go. 

It was overwhelming and too much, making you see stars. Your vision began to get hazy as your orgasm continued to wash over you. Your whole body shook, eyes squeezed shut. You don’t know how long it lasted but eventually your body went limp and everything went dark. Minho released his mouth and fell with you, finally able to resume thrusting as you relaxed around his cock.

He was too gone to realize the gravity of what he just did.

Seungmin, Felix, Changbin, and Jeongin burst into Minho’s room. They heard you scream and now you were lying lifelessly on the bed as he continued to thrust into you. He was kissing across your back as he chased his own high. 

The boys were hit with the smell of his rut and panicked.

“What happened?!” Changbin nearly yelled.

Minho growled in response, flashing his red, possessive eyes at them. They knew it was not a good idea to interrupt an alpha and his omega….especially during his rut but they had no choice. It was too soon and they knew you weren’t ready to engage in such activities. Little did they know you insisted.

 “Minho….focus on my voice.” Changbin spoke calmly.

Minho growled in response, shielding you with his body. Changbin moved forward, as did Seungmin and Jeongin, and quickly lunged towards Minho. He growled and thrashed but they managed to get a grip on him and pull him off of you. You whimpered as he slipped from your tight heat, Felix hurried over and covered you in a sheet.

The boys pinned Minho to the far wall, him growling and fighting their hold. Felix noticed the bloody bite on the top of your shoulder near your scent gland and his eyes went wide. 

“Y/n?” Felix delicately brushed your hair back from your face. 

You didn’t wake.

Minho growled, making Felix jump. Felix was very sensitive to emotions, so he was scared and anxious with all the smells around him - anger, arousal, rut, worry, fear. Felix quickly scooped you up and brought you down to the med room, laying you on the bed. He pulled out his phone, dialing Doctor Quinn and putting her on speaker. Then he grabbed his stethoscope and blood pressure cuff. 

The phone rang five times. No answer.

“Dammit.” Felix panicked, hitting the call button again.

His hands were shaking, tears threatening to fall as he listened to your heart.

No answer.

“Fuck.” Felix rasped. “Answer doc!”

Felix called Doctor Quinn once more.

“Hello?” Quinn finally answered. 

“Thank god. I need you here immediately. Something’s wrong with y/n. She won’t wake up and she’s bleeding and-” Felix rambled, lip trembling.

“Felix, slow down. What’s wrong?” Quinn said in a calm voice.

“Y/n!” Felix exclaimed, tears filling his eyes. “Something’s wrong. Minho marked her and now she's not waking up.” 

“Minho marked her? Not Chan? Where’s Chan?”

“He’s not here! He took two betas to make an alliance.”

“Okay. Um, I'm with a patient right now. What’s her heart rate and BP?”

“It’s faint, I don’t know.” Felix threw his hands in the air.

“Felix, calm down. You need to take a breath. You can’t help her if you don’t collect yourself.”

Felix took a shaky breath.

“Okay. Tell me her vitals. Can you do that?” Doctor Quinn asked, her voice gently.

“Yes.” Felix sniffled.

With shaky hands, Felix told her your heart rate was fifties. He then measured your blood pressure, informing Quinn it was 60/40. 

“I'm almost done here Felix and then I will be right there. Give her fluids and keep an eye on her vitals. It sounds like she's sub-dropping.”

“Oh no…” Felix's eyes pooled with tears, streaming down his cheeks. “Isn't that fatal?!”

“Not always. I'll be there soon.”

With that, Quinn hung up in an effort to finish up with her current patient. Felix looked at you with such love and worry. He just got you…you couldn’t be taken from him now.

Meanwhile, the boys were bringing Minho to the rut house. There were chains there if needed for an extreme rut. They may have used it once but never had a regular need for it. Changbin chained Minho to the wall and he growled, not wanting anything to do with him.

“Let me have her.” He growled.

“Minho. Get a hold of yourself.” Changbin challenged.

“I’ve never seen him like this…” Jeongin whispered.

“I think y/n made him feral.” Changbin muttered, walking over to the others.

“Did you see he marked her?” Seungmin asked.

“Chan’s not going to like this.” Changbin ruffled his hair.

“Should we call him?” Jeongin asked.

“We shouldn’t worry him. Plus he should be on his way home by now.” Seungmin said.

“It’s just nearly noon.” Changbin looked at his phone. “He texted. He’s on the way. Jeongin, go help Felix and call him.” Changbin said.

Jeongin ran back home, coming in through the basement doors. He closed the door behind him, pulling out his phone when he heard crying. It was coming from the med room. His stomach dropped and he rushed over. He saw Felix laying his head in your lap, crying. Your skin was pale and it didn’t look like you were breathing. He couldn’t hear a heartbeat over Felix’s sobbing.

“Felix?” Jeongin whispered.

His head popped up, eyes puffy and cheeks tear stained. “She’s gone, Innie.”

“What?” Jeongin found the will to move and came over, gripping your wrist and looking for a pulse. “No. Fix her.”

“There’s nothing I can do. She sub-dropped. And Doc Quinn isn’t answering her phone.” Felix cried once more.

“You’re our medic. What would Doc Quinn do if she was here?”

“I did CPR for nearly five minutes.”

“What meds would Doc Quinn give her?” Jeongin asks as he comes over and begins CPR once more.

“Jeongin…”

“WHAT MEDICINE!?” Jeongin growled, not realizing his Alpha dominance was taking over.

“I, uh…” Felix stumbled over to the medicine cabinet. “Think, Felix, think.”

After a few seconds, Felix came over and injected you with a couple different medicines straight to your heart.

“What are those?” Jeongin asked.

“Epi and Amiodarone.” 

“Now what?”

“We continue CPR and hope Quinn gets here soon.”

“Call Chan.”

Felix looks at him with eyes so big it was shocking they didn’t fall from his head. 

“I was supposed to but I’m busy. Call Chan.” Jeongin said again.

Felix swallowed thickly and pulled out his phone. He dialed Chan but he didn’t answer. He tried Hyunjin and Jisung too.

“No one is answering.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes.

“Let’s switch.” Felix said.

They switched and Felix took his turn. 

“How’s Minho?” Felix asked.

“I think she made him feral.” Jeongin said, inspecting the mark.

“I’m afraid to clean it. I don’t want to hurt her.” Felix explained.

“You wouldn’t hurt her right now.” It slipped out before Jeongin realized.

They remained silent.

Chan slowly came to, his head pounding and his whole body aching. He groaned, reaching to massage his muscles when he felt a restraint. Opening his eyes he realized he was sitting in a dungeon of some sort. The smell was….familiar. Awful but familiar. There were chains around his wrists, securing him to the wall. He got up, looking around to see a wire cot with a thin, water stained mattress. There was a hole in the floor off towards the back.

Oh shit… Chan thought.

He was with the Nykos.

“Hyunjin? Jisung?” He called out. “Hyunjin!? Jisung!?”

He looked through the cell door, and across the walkway was Hyunjin beginning to stir. He looked around, restrained as well.

“Where the hell are we?” Hyunjin freaked out, standing and fighting against the shackles.

“Jinnie, relax. We are with the Nykos.” Chan stated.

“The Nykos?” Jisung questioned, coming to his cell door. “You mean this is where y/n spent her life?”

“Afraid so.”

“It smells like shit in here.” Jisung pinched his nose.

“We gotta figure out a way out.” Chan stated, looking around.

“Hey, miss? Can you help us?” Jisung called to the girl across from her cell.

“Jisung, who are you talking to?” Chan asked.

“There’s a girl in the cell next to yours.” Jisung explained. “Do you remember y/n?” 

The girl ignored him, cowering in the corner. She could smell the alpha and it terrified her. Hell, even the betas scared her. She was definitely not as brave as you had been.

“Stop scaring her.” Hyunjin says.

Jisung gives her a half smile before sitting on the mattress, groaning at the lack of support and cushion. 

There was a creak of a door and then footsteps descending. The smell of alpha hit their noses and the girl whimpered. They all stood alert, watching for what would happen. Alpha Lewis stepped to Chan’s cell.

“So you thought you could steal my omega and I wouldn’t find out?”

“She’s not yours.” Chris snapped.

Lewis laughed, stepping aside. His men opened the cell and snatched Chan, bringing him down the hall to his torture room. Chan was chained to the wall, barely having room to move his limbs this time. Lewis went over and pulled a stick off the wall.

“Why don’t we talk this out like adults.” Chan suggested. “I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“Is the big bad alpha scared?” Lewis mocks.

“Beat me all you want. I’m not afraid. I know she belongs with us.” Chan says.

Lewis flings his arm to the side, the stick expanding. He presses a button and the end crackles. He shoves it in Chan’s side and he groans.

“We had an agreement once already and you broke it.” Lewis reminds, shocking him once more. “Let’s see how long before the True Alpha breaks.”

“You know I didn’t kill my brother. You were there.”

“Doesn’t matter. Society will never see you as the True Alpha.”

Chan growled, fighting against the restraints.

Lewis electrocuted him once more. “I can do this all day, Chris.”

“Don’t call me that.” Chan seethes.

“No? It’s your name, is it not?”

“Not anymore.”

“Shame” Lewis jabs him with another five hundred volts of electricity.

“Stop!” Hyunjin cries out.

Lewis smirks, making his way over to the betas.

“You can take his place if you like…” Lewis gestured.

“No…” Chan growled, out of breath as he recovered.

“Why did you bring us here? To torture and kill us?” Jisung asked.

“No. You’re bait for my sweet little omega to come back to me.” Lewis answered, coming over to Jisung’s cell.

Without warning, He stuck the pole between the slots of the cell door and shocked Jisung. He cried out, falling back.

“Leave us alone.” Hyunjin growled.

Lewis stepped over, looking Hyunjin deep in the eyes and smirked. “That was her exact cell you’re standing in. Maybe you can leave her a little note for when she returns.” 

Hyunjin banged on the door, only making Lewis laugh as he returned back to Chan.

Knock. Knock.

It was doctor Quinn at the basement door. Felix poked his head out the med room, ushering her in. She hurried over.

“Talk to me.” She said, coming in to see Jeongin holding your hand.

“We got a faint heart beat about five minutes ago.” Felix stated.

“How long without one?” Quinn asked, looking over your new mark.

Felix and Jeongin exchanged glances, the silence making Quinn look up.

“Nearly…twenty minutes of CPR.” Felix said in a small voice.

“Twenty minutes? Two Zero?”

Felix nodded. “I gave her epi and amiodarone.”

Quinn took your vitals as they both stood by and watched.

“Her blood pressure is still low and her she’s brachycardic.” Quinn explained. “We will need to keep an eye on her until she regains consciousness. So tell me what the hell happened.”

“I guess Minho started his rut this morning. They were…you know, when we heard her scream. We all rushed in and he was on top of her still going even though she was unconscious. I don’t know if he even knows what happened.” Felix told her.

“He went feral?”

“I think so.” 

“So she probably screamed when he bit her, seeing as she was already marked. Although that mark is fading.” Quinn shook her head. “I told Chan to have me there when he felt it was time and she was ready. I never expected this to happen. Where’s Minho now?”

“Rut house chained up. He kept trying to get back to her.” Jeongin explained. “He didn’t want any help from us.”

“He might eventually calm down and allow one of you to help so keep trying.” Quinn said.

“So what do we do now?” Felix asks.

“Now we wait for her to wake.” Quinn asked.

They waited hours, Minho alone in the rut house as everyone sat in the basement. It was awkwardly quiet as they all strained their ears to focus on your heart rate. 

Changbin’s phone ringing broke the silence. He stood, moving to take the call outside.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Hello. This is Seungcheol. I was calling because I can’t seem to reach Chan. I called him a few times and Minho as well but neither of them answered. Did he make it home?”

“Uh…no. They aren’t here.” Changbin turned from the door, facing everyone.

They were so caught up with waiting for you to wake, they lost track of time and realized their mates never showed up.

“He was supposed to send me a document by four. They should have been home by now.” Seungcheol noted.

“They definitely should have been home.” Changbin snapped his fingers and Felix was quick to call Chan. Jeongin called Hyunjin and Seungmin called Jisung.

They all received no answer.

“They aren’t answering us either.”

“Seems like the Nykos made their move…” Seungcheol said. “We’ll be there within the hour.”

TAGLIST:

@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound @motheraiya55 @m00njinnie @writeuntilthebitterend @jutdwae-flower @staytinyluv @emmxxsworld @galaxy4489 @wolfo2027 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @thatgirlangelb

Shout out to my lovely betas!! @its-the-solar-system @cherry-erii

[thatgirlsworld36]

Jude Bellingham NSFW alphabet

(minors DNI!!!)

TW: NSFW themes; read it only if you feel comfortable. English is not my first language. 

Enjoy! <3

A= Aftercare(what they're after sex)

Jude  is exceptionally attentive when it comes to aftercare. He understands that intimacy extends beyond the physical act, so he makes it a point to check in with his partner emotionally and physically. Whether it's cuddling, whispering sweet nothings, or simply enjoying a comfortable silence together, he ensures that both of you feel cherished and secure.

If he’s gone a little too rough on you he will make you a warm bath and make sure all your muscles are relaxed. Jude gets incredibly affectionately and wants you as close as possible. For him, holding you is almost like another way of saying "I love you" and he needs you to feel that just as deeply.

B= Body part(their favorite body part and also their partner's)

Jude is particularly fond of his own toned legs, which he takes great pride in thanks to all his trainings. He also love his strong big arms with which he can lift you pretty easily no matter your size. 

He appreciates his partner's body, especially their smile, as it reflects joy and happy memories. Buuut i think Jude is a man who LOVE your curves. But he also often gets distracted by your neck and collarbones. He love to rest his chin there during tender moments, creating a sense of closeness and connection that enhances your intimacy. 

C= Cum(anything to do with cum basically)

When it comes to this topic, Jude has a playful and open attitude. This man is all for the intimacy (I'm saying the same thing again and again at this point but that’s how I see him) so he prefers to cum inside you. No actually he is obsessed with cumming inside of you. The way you squeeze around him make him go insane. He enjoys the warmth and intimacy that comes with it, often teasing you about how he loves the feeling of closeness it brings.

D= Dirty secret(pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret they desire)

Jude has a secret fantasy of being intimate in a public setting, like a quiet corner of a bustling coffee shop or a secluded area in a park. The idea of being caught adds an exhilarating element of risk to his desires.

E= Experience(how experience are they?)

Though still young, Jude brings a mix of eagerness and a budding understanding of intimacy to the table. I think that he absolutely knows what he’s doing even though he is pretty young. He might not talk about it, but he’s got this quiet confidence that shows when things get intimate. He knows how to hit every right spot and when to say the right thing to push you over the edge.(But the bipolar in me says he still has a lot to learn and is willing to do it with you)

F= Favorite position(again, pretty self explanatory)

Jude enjoys missionary as his go-to position because it allows for deep eye contact and emotional connection. Annnnd that also gives him opportunity to play with your clit, tits, lips and to leave hickeys on your neck.  

However, he is also open to experimenting with different positions that spice things up, often switching things around to keep the excitement alive in your intimate moments. He also love when you are on top because as much as he likes to be in control he also like you being the dominant during it.(he's still the one whose dominating)

G= Goffy (are they more serious in the moment? do they joke during it?)

Jude has a naturally light-hearted personality, and he brings that energy into intimate moments. He often cracks jokes or makes playful comments to ease any tension, ensuring that both him and his partner are laughing and enjoying themselves. But if he is angry and just wants to release the tension then he will be serious as fuck…(praying for you girlie)

H= Hair(how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc)

Jude is well-groomed and takes pride in his appearance, which includes his hair. He keeps it stylish and tidy, reflecting his overall attention to detail. Whether it’s his head hair or body hair, he maintains a look that is both appealing and fitting for his athletic lifestyle, and he always makes sure to match his grooming style to his partner's preferences.

He also doesn't care if you are trimmed or not. Jude just want you to feel comfortable in your own body.

I= intimacy(how intimate are they during it?)

Jude values emotional closeness and intimacy, often focusing on creating a deep connection with his partner. He enjoys sharing personal thoughts and feelings, making the experience feel more meaningful. His affectionate nature means he's often found holding hands, stealing kisses, or engaging in soft whispers during more intimate moments.

J= Jack off(masturbation headcanon)

Jude appreciates his alone time, using it as an opportunity to explore his own desires and relieve stress. Sadly it happens pretty often because of all the games he has to play away from you but most of the time you are glad to give him a show on facetime.

K= Kink(one or more of their kinks)

Oh this man is F.R.E.A.K.Y.

 This man has a breeding kink. That’s it. End of the discussion. Yes he love filling you up, yes he love staying just a little longer inside so he is sure everything will stay there and yes, he does not want kids…(He said this somewhere if i’m not wrong??)(I mean yes he was younger when he did so, but a person can’t change his opinion that easy about something important as this…sorry don’t come at me <3))

 I think this man is not only very dominant on the pitch but also under the sheets. He will always “control” you during it no matter who is on top. 

Public sex! He doesn’t care if you two get caught. I’m done talking. 

Anything involving your mouth and lips. Sticking his fingers in your mouth(does that go with gagging??), spitting in your mouth, biting your lips. He just love them. 

But let's not forget he won’t do anything that would make you uncomfortable.

L= Location(favorite place to do it)

Hi! It’s me again. Somewhere outside your house. Public sex. Same thing again. In an empty dark alley? Yes. On your balcony? Yes sir. In the locker room after a game? Yes Yes YES.  

I also think about the shower? The way the water drops slight over your bodies, the warm that it came with it.(I just think Jude finds the bed slightly boring, okay?)

M= Motivation(what turns them on?)

We ALL have seen this man. And his “little” friend. So his motivation is… Everything? I want to say it’s you, I really do…but i can’t. This man is breathing and somehow he gets horny.  

He also finds it really attractive when you go around your house wearing only his shirt. (he was horny even before he saw you. Sorry(i’m not really))

N= No(something they wouldn't do, turn offs)

Jude is clear about his boundaries, particularly when it comes to humiliation. He prefers to keep things fun and consensual, ensuring that both of you are comfortable and respected throughout your experiences. He believes that intimacy should be a positive and enjoyable experience for everyone involved.

O= Oral( preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc..)

Jude is a little egoistic when it comes to this. He love to eat you out, but he prefers you giving him head which can get pretty annoying sometimes. Jude especially love receiving after he wins a match. You on your knees, with him in your mouth and the pride after winning- a dream for Jude. 

 He takes pride in knowing how to please his partner and often engages in playful teasing about it. If he is in the mood for giving  he will take his time with you and eat you until you can’t keep your legs open. 

P= Pace(are they fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

Jude is adaptable when it comes to pace. He can start slow and sensual, savoring every moment, but when the intensity rises, he’s not afraid to pick up the pace and embrace a more passionate rhythm. But it also depends on his mood. If he's angry- good luck. He will go fast, hard and deep…or slow, like reallyyyy slow. Almost like torture, making you feel everything so deep as if you are on something. 

Q= Quickie(their opinions on quckies, how often etc..)

Jude finds quickies to be thrilling and spontaneous, enjoying the adrenaline rush that comes with them. He appreciates the excitement of a rushed encounter when time is limited, viewing it as an opportunity to connect despite a busy schedule. It also means the chance of this happening outside is big. (Aham, public sex)

R= Risk(do they take risk? How far are they ready to go?)

 Jude’s definitely open to trying new things in the bedroom.He’s adventurous and loves exploring, especially if it’s something you’re into. Should I start talking about his affinity for doing it outside?(i swear at this point it sound like I’M the one that is into this)

S= Stamina(how many rounds can they go? how long do they last?)

Jude boasts impressive stamina, often surprising you with how many rounds he can go. He enjoys taking his time and ensuring that both you and him are satisfied, lasting longer than one might expect, he can literally go for forever.

T= Toys(do they own toys? do they use them?)

Jude is curious and open-minded about using toys in the bedroom. He has a collection that he enjoys incorporating into your sex life, believing that they can enhance pleasure and add a layer of excitement. But i feel that sometimes he can ge a little jealous because he think sometimes they make you feel better than him.(Seriously Jude?)

U= Unfair(how much they like to tease?)

Jude loves to tease you, often building anticipation and creating playful tension before finally giving in. Brushing his fingers lightly over your pussy through your underwear and then eventually tapping your clit with his dick which makes you whine. He enjoys the thrill of keeping you guessing and the excitement that comes from a little bit of playful unfairness.(a "little" bit)

V= Volume(how loud they are during it?)

I DON'T think Jude is vocal during it. Like he keep it to himself and only some deep groans and quiet little whispers of your name.

W= Wild card(a random headcanon)

One of Jude's wild card traits is his talent for surprising his partner with romantic gestures. Whether it's planning an impromptu getaway or leaving sweet notes, he enjoys keeping the spark alive and showing his affection in unexpected ways. (this men just love affection...and public sex)

X= X-Ray(let's see what's going on under those clothes)

He is big. Definitely above average. With a lot of visible veins on it

Y= Yearning(how high is their sex drive?)

Jude has a high sex drive(are we surprised?), often feeling a constant desire for intimacy and connection.

Z= Zzz(how quickly they fall asleep afterwards?)

After you two are done, Jude tends to fall asleep quickly, often wrapping his arms around you for a cozy cuddle. He enjoys the warmth and comfort of being close, drifting off contentedly with a smile, realising how good he made you feel.

[earthlybeam]

The reader (you) , with your bratty personality, loved teasing the elves. You always find ways to get their attention at the most inconvenient times, often by reaching out to touch the elf’s sensitive ears. (For the elves, it was more than just a simple touch—such actions were seen as intimate, a signal of courting, and a serious one at that also incredibly sensitive to pain and pleasure. If the reader (you) didn’t get the response you wanted, you’d torment the elf’s ears further, pinching or tugging until their target finally relented. You knew just how to push their buttons—always with a smile and a glint of mischief in their eyes.)

Gil-Galad, Thranduil, Elrond, Celeborn version below.

🏵️𝓖𝓲𝓵-𝓰𝓪𝓵𝓪𝓭

Gil-galad was no stranger to the burdens of leadership. As the High King of the Noldor, the weight of the crown often pressed heavily on his shoulders. He was accustomed to being in control, to having his decisions made with unwavering precision, and his commands followed with absolute loyalty. His days were filled with strategy, diplomacy, and endless matters of state, leaving little room for distractions. But you—you, with that mischievous glint in your eye—seemed determined to be the exception. He was used to the quiet hum of his court, the careful, polite whispers of his council members, the solemn discussions that shaped the fate of Middle-earth. He had learned to maintain a stoic calm in the face of countless pressures. But you—you had a way of unraveling his composure, bit by bit, until there was nothing left but the heat of your teasing touches.

Today was no different. As he stood on the balcony, gazing out over Lindon, deep in thought about the future of his people, he felt it. The familiar sensation—the lightest brush of fingertips against the edge of his ear. His sensitive elven ears twitched involuntarily, a small gasp escaping his lips before he could stop it. The touch was innocent enough, playful even. But he knew what it meant—knew that you had every intention of making a game out of it. Turning his head slowly, Gil-galad’s eyes found you standing just out of reach, feigning innocence. His gaze narrowed, and despite his better judgment, a small, indulgent smile tugged at his lips. “Are you so certain that you want my attention, little one?” His voice was calm, but there was a trace of warning beneath the surface.

You couldn’t help it. There was something so satisfying about making Gil-galad lose that composure of his. For all his wisdom, his age, his power—he was still, in some ways, just like any other Elf, sensitive in ways he didn’t want to admit. And those ears? Oh, you knew exactly what a simple touch could do. You’d watched him closely, noticed how his ear would twitch when you brushed too close. How his expression would falter, just a fraction, when your fingers lingered on that delicate, pointed curve. His stoic façade might fool many, but you had the key to unlocking something deeper, something raw beneath that calm exterior. With a grin that barely restrained your mischievous intent, you took a step closer. He was standing there, too absorbed in his thoughts—so serene, so dignified—and you had no intentions of letting him stay that way. You reached up, pinching one of his ears, the motion quick and sharp, just enough to make his jaw tighten. His immediate reaction was almost imperceptible—a tightening of his lips, the briefest flicker in his eye. But you had felt it. You had seen it. He was trying so hard to remain stoic. “Careful, my King,” you whispered teasingly. “You wouldn’t want to lose that composure, would you?”

The pinch sent a sharp jolt through Gil-galad’s ear, and he closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a slow breath to steady himself. How bold you were. You knew exactly how to push him, to provoke him, and in such a way that he could hardly stop you. The delicate skin of his ear was more sensitive than most would realize—and you knew that. Too well, he thought. “Enough,” he murmured, though his tone carried a softness that betrayed his usual authority. His eyes softened ever so slightly, but there was an edge to his words, a warning that came with the weight of being a king. “You do not want to test my patience, my little flower.” But, of course, you did not relent. You never did. A second later, his ear was subjected to your playful torment once again—a quick pinch, then a teasing brush that made him flinch. His breath hitched before he could fully mask it. It was maddening how you always seemed to find the perfect moment to push him to the edge. He stood still, his hand clenched by his side in an effort to maintain some semblance of control, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

You were relentless, always just out of reach, always knowing how far you could push him before his control slipped away. His gaze flickered to yours—dark eyes filled with a quiet command, though a trace of something else lingered there, something unspoken. “Do not tempt me,” he growled, his voice low and almost dangerous, the edges of his usual calm fraying as his patience began to thin. The flicker of vulnerability in his voice made you smile. It was too tempting. His authority was always present, a constant weight upon his shoulders, but that look—that brief moment where he faltered—it was priceless. You could feel the tension radiating from him, the strength of his restraint warring with the pull of your teasing.

“Oh? Am I tempting you, my King?” you replied with a soft chuckle, stepping closer, just a whisper of space between you. You didn’t touch him, not yet, but you hovered near him, close enough to make him feel your presence, feel the pull of your proximity. His stoic face remained carefully neutral, but you could hear the slight hitch in his breath as you hovered near his ear. You brushed your fingers lightly along the curve of his ear again, just enough to make him feel it, just enough to make him fight to maintain his composure. Gil-galad’s gaze narrowed, his muscles tensing at your every move. His lips pressed together tightly, and you could see the faintest tremor in his jaw. He was trying so hard to remain composed, to hold onto that elusive control, but you could sense the undercurrent of tension in him, the subtle flicker of his resolve weakening with each passing moment. The smallest of movements—a barely noticeable shift in his posture—betrayed the struggle within him.

“Gil-galad,” you murmured, leaning in a little closer, your breath warm against his ear. “I only want to play. A little teasing never hurt anyone, has it?”His heart beat faster, but Gil-galad didn’t let it show. Damn you, he thought, yet he couldn’t stop the corner of his mouth from twitching in a near-smile. The battle for composure was growing harder by the second. Every time your fingers brushed against his ear, every light touch, it felt like a thousand whispers all at once. He had lived for centuries—he was a king, an ancient elf, and yet you, with your bratty little games, had a way of unraveling him that no foe ever could. His patience, once as steady as the mountains, was eroding. Slipping away like the sands of time. “Enough,” he repeated, his voice still steady but laced with something far less certain. A soft tremor was hidden beneath the calm façade as his hand reached up, almost involuntarily, brushing the side of his ear where your fingers had just been. The gesture betrayed the subtle storm brewing within him. His body was betraying him, and it irritated him more than he cared to admit. “You test me, little one,” he said, his words thick with something deeper now—something affectionate, despite the strained composure he was desperately trying to cling to.

His eyes found yours, dark and smoldering, eyes that burned with both authority and something much more dangerous—an edge of challenge, of desire, that he hadn’t shown you before. The king was gone for a moment, replaced by something far more personal, far more exposed. And before you could react, his hand moved again, reaching out to cup your chin gently, lifting your face so your eyes could meet his, locking with yours in a way that sent a surge of heat through your body. “If this is how you wish to earn my attention, then so be it,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, a playful thread woven into the depth of his words. “But you must know, I am no stranger to games of my own. And I always play to win.”

You could feel it then—the challenge. You’d pushed him, unraveling his composed façade, and now he had you right where he wanted you. That calm, regal authority was still there, but beneath it, something new simmered—something that you hadn’t seen before. The eyes that once seemed so distant, so distant and cold, were now filled with a raw intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. His words, laced with such quiet power, rang in your ears, and you realized with a thrill that the game had changed. Now, you were both players in this dance of seduction and challenge. You met his gaze, daring and unyielding, but there was a hint of uncertainty in you, a slight tremor in your chest that you would not allow him to see. You knew he had been affected, perhaps more than he cared to admit, and that gave you all the power you needed. The satisfaction of knowing you had drawn him in—drawn him to this point—was worth everything.

“Then play, my King,” you whispered, your voice low, with a daring smile tugging at the corners of your lips, letting him decide how the game would unfold from here. You could feel the heat between you, the challenge that stretched like a taut wire between you both, just waiting for one of you to pull. You had drawn him into this dance, and now the steps were his to lead. But deep down, neither of you needed to say it aloud—this was far from over. Neither of you had the intention of stopping. The game had only just begun. Gil-galad’s breath caught at your words. There it was, the challenge that he had been holding back, the undeniable invitation that left him both exhilarated and dangerously intrigued. You had called his bluff, and now there was nothing left to do but follow through with the game. The fire in his chest was growing, stoking his desire to see just how far you would push him—and how much of him you could make him lose control of.

His eyes never left yours as he stepped closer, the space between you shrinking in a way that felt inevitable. His body was taut, like a bowstring drawn too tight, and the faintest flicker of something darker lingered in his expression—something raw, something almost primal. “You will learn, little one,” he murmured, his voice now thick with promise. He moved as if the world itself had slowed, every step measured and deliberate. His hand brushed lightly against your cheek before his fingers slid down, grazing the curve of your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. His touch was gentle—deceptively so—but the heat in his gaze was undeniable, a flame that danced behind his cool composure. The moment stretched, taut like a drawn bow, and he leaned in close, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Do you know what you’ve done?” His words were low, hushed, barely a breath against your skin, but they held weight—he was no longer the High King of Lindon, the untouchable ruler. Now, he was something more dangerous, more tangled in this game than you could have imagined. You had pulled him in, and now, in the space between desire and restraint, he wasn’t certain who was winning. A flicker of amusement danced in his eyes, despite the intensity of the moment. He couldn’t help but admire your audacity, how you still stood your ground even as the storm between you both built. His hand slipped to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair, his grip not harsh, but enough to keep you where he wanted you. Close. “You’ve awakened something, and now I intend to see it through.”

His lips, hovering just above your own, were a breath away, but he didn’t kiss you. No, he was letting the anticipation stretch, letting the power shift in his favor. His other hand brushed against your ear once more, this time with far more intention, as if to remind you of just how sensitive he was—of just how far he would let you push before he decided to take control. Your teasing had worked, but now, the stakes had changed. There was no going back from this. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he warned, his lips curling into a smile that was as much a challenge as it was a promise. “But I warn you, I don’t lose.” It was a statement, but it held something deeper. Something intimate, something that carried the weight of more than just words. Gil-galad leaned back slightly, his hand still resting on your neck, his thumb brushing gently over the curve of your skin. The control was back in his hands, but the tension between you still crackled like an electric charge, both of you knowing that the game was far from finished. The power was shifting, but neither of you was ready to give up just yet. His gaze swept over your features once more, his smile still lingering. “You’ve played your hand, little one,” he said softly. “Now, let’s see how you respond when the game shifts in my favor.” And with that, he moved, a step closer, as if to close the distance between your lips with a kiss that was still just out of reach.

🍷𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓾𝓲𝓵

Thranduil sat at his desk, the dim light of his study flickering softly against the walls, casting long shadows. His fingers moved across ancient maps and scrolls, the weight of centuries of leadership heavy in his thoughts. Mirkwood was calm—too calm. His mind was always occupied with the threats that loomed at the edges of his kingdom, but tonight, he was lost in the minutiae of strategy and diplomacy. The faintest sound of light footfalls reached his ears, but he didn’t lift his gaze from the scroll in front of him. He had learned over the years that Mirkwood was full of intrusions, both from the forest and from within his own halls. Still, something in the air felt different.

You crept into his study with the same mischievous glint in your eyes that had earned you both admiration and frustration from the Elven king. Thranduil hadn’t noticed you approach at first, so focused was he on his work, but that only gave you the advantage. You hovered behind his chair for a moment, taking in the sight of the king as he immersed himself in his responsibilities. His hair, long and flowing like silver threads of moonlight, framed his strong features, his brow furrowed with concentration. The sharpness of his gaze, even when unfocused, was enough to make anyone stand at attention—but you were not just anyone. You could feel the tension in his body, the way his shoulders slightly tensed whenever you were near. And you had a particular fondness for that subtle vulnerability, for the way he resisted, and yet seemed to appreciate your antics.

Reaching forward slowly, your fingers brushed against the tips of his elven ears, and you felt him freeze immediately. The slight tremor of his body was all the confirmation you needed to know that, yes, the rumors were true. The sensitivity of an elf’s ears was nothing to be trifled with. At first, you didn’t press it. You simply caressed the delicate points of his ears with a feather-light touch, the softness of his skin beneath your fingers sending a shiver down your spine. His breath hitched ever so slightly, but his voice remained steady as he continued working, his posture betraying his growing awareness of your presence. “Did you need something?” Thranduil’s voice was quiet, but there was an underlying strain in it, as though he were trying to maintain his composure despite your proximity.

You smiled, a devious twinkle in your eye as you leaned in just a little closer. “Oh, nothing in particular,” you said softly, your breath barely a whisper against his ear. “I was just thinking… how long will it take before you give me your full attention?” You pinched his ear gently, just enough to make the skin flush beneath your fingers. Thranduil’s body tensed almost imperceptibly, and you could see the corner of his lip twitch in irritation. He slowly lowered the scroll in his hand, his gaze sharpening with a mix of wariness and amusement as he looked up at you, finally turning his head. “You have an insufferable way of getting what you want, don’t you?”

The words were tinged with both exasperation and something else—perhaps a touch of fascination, though he would never admit it. You loved how he tried to stay composed, how he fought against your little games, but you knew him well enough by now. Thranduil might be a king, but he was also an elf, and underneath that regal facade, he was not immune to temptation. You didn’t wait for a response, instead choosing to torment him further. You pinched his ear again, this time a little firmer, twisting it with a deliberate movement. His breath faltered, and his hand clenched the arm of his chair. “You’re being quite cruel,” he muttered, but there was a note of frustration creeping into his voice. He didn’t move to stop you, though. Instead, his sharp eyes narrowed as he studied you—waiting, perhaps hoping that you’d stop, but knowing, too, that you wouldn’t.

“Am I?” you teased, pressing your thumb to the edge of his ear and giving it another, more insistent pinch. “You seem to like it, though.” Your fingers danced along the sensitive tip, and you felt him shift beneath your touch, his chest rising and falling slightly faster. Thranduil’s eyes flickered to your hand, and his lip curled ever so slightly. The King of Mirkwood had his pride, and even in this vulnerable moment, he wasn’t one to beg or show weakness. But you could tell his patience was fraying. His grip on the chair tightened, and there was a quiet warning in his voice as he spoke again. “I am not one to be trifled with, little one.” The words were clipped, but there was an undertone of something deeper. Desire, perhaps. Or simply the need to regain control. You leaned in close again, the tip of your nose brushing against the side of his face as you whispered, “We’ll see about that.”

Thranduil’s breath caught in his throat as the sharp, unexpected pinch of his ear jolted him from his thoughts. His eyes, usually steady and calculating, flickered with a moment of vulnerability, and he couldn’t suppress the soft, involuntary hiss that escaped his lips. He had never quite expected this from you—the delicate balance of teasing and torment. You had crossed a line now, and the energy between you crackled with a dangerous tension. His pride, unshakable and centuries-old, flared, and yet, a deeper part of him, something raw and instinctive, stirred to life. It wasn’t pain he felt—not exactly. The sensation was sharp, yes, but something else lingered too: the unsettling pulse of his own body responding to your touch. The way his ears burned under your fingertips, how the very edge of the discomfort had a strange, intoxicating edge to it, unlike anything he had ever allowed to happen. And now, here you were, smirking at him with that unmistakable gleam in your eyes, knowing exactly what you had done.

“You,” he growled, his voice dropping lower, filled with a dangerous calm, a blend of amusement and something darker. “You will regret this, little one.” He didn’t need to see you to know that you were savoring this moment. You always seemed to delight in seeing him on the edge of something he couldn’t quite control. You were like that—a force of nature, wild and mischievous, playing with him like a cat with a mouse. But Thranduil, the King of Mirkwood, never let a game slip from his grasp, and he wasn’t going to start now. Your smirk widened just a fraction, the gleam in your eyes only deepening as you leaned back slightly to admire your work. You had gotten under his skin. You had made him feel something he wasn’t used to feeling, and for a brief moment, it unsettled him. He had never thought his weakness—his ear, his damnable sensitivity—would be exposed like this, let alone by someone who took such delight in tormenting it.

Your gaze didn’t waver from his, the challenge clear in your posture. The tension built as Thranduil’s lips parted, eyes flashing dangerously. This wasn’t a moment of weakness. It wasn’t pain that gripped him, but something else, something far more complicated. His hand rose, almost too quickly, his fingers latching onto your wrist with an unexpected force. He didn’t yank you, but there was no denying the strength in his grip, the way it seemed to hold you in place as his presence towered over you. He could have simply taken your hand away, could have made this interaction nothing more than a swift rebuke, but no—Thranduil wasn’t one to be disrespected without consequence, especially when it came to something as intimate as his ear.

“You think you can play with me like this, little one?” His voice was a low murmur, but it carried a power that made your heart beat a little faster. “Let us see how well you handle my attention.” The words were carefully chosen, as if to remind you that this wasn’t a simple game. He was the king, the one who commanded Mirkwood, who had spent centuries as both a ruler and a protector of his people. But in that moment, you weren’t thinking of any of that. You were thinking of how the game had shifted. How the roles had reversed, and now, Thranduil was the one who had been provoked. You could see it in the way his lips curved slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t just annoyance that flickered in his eyes—it was interest. A challenge.

You didn’t flinch. In fact, your lips curled into a slight smirk of your own as you met his gaze, unflinching and confident, like you were in control of the situation. You had provoked him, and you knew he was no longer the one unaffected. You had caught his attention, and that was a dangerous thing for both of you. His fingers remained tightly wound around your wrist, but his touch was controlled, deliberate, as if marking his territory, asserting his dominance in this little game. And yet, there was a flicker of something else in his expression—a deeper curiosity, even a hunger, that you had never seen in him before. It wasn’t just about punishment anymore. No, this was more complicated. He was intrigued by you. You had made him feel something raw, something old and long buried, and now, you had his full attention. You swallowed, but still, you didn’t break eye contact. The challenge had been issued. It was no longer just about the playful teasing or your little games. Thranduil’s attention was now focused entirely on you, and you had the feeling this would no longer be as easy as you expected. The game had begun, but now, it was a game of give and take. And you? You were ready for whatever came next.

📜 𝓔𝓵𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓭

The tranquil halls of Rivendell hummed with the gentle whispers of flowing water and rustling leaves, a sanctuary of peace and beauty. Yet, in one particular study, serenity was far from the prevailing mood. There, at his grand oak desk, Lord Elrond sat, his elegant quill scratching steadily over a parchment filled with intricate Elven script. The lord of Imladris was the picture of focus, his noble features serene as the golden light of the afternoon filtered through the arched windows. Unfortunately for him, you were also in the room. You were standing not far behind his chair, arms crossed, lips twisted in a playful pout. The stillness of the room was only broken by the soft rustling of parchment as Elrond worked, lost in whatever task had so firmly claimed his attention. The sight of his perfect composure, the calm yet powerful figure of the lord, only fueled your impatience. He had been like this for hours, completely immersed in his work—totally ignoring you.

With a dramatic sigh, you leaned slightly forward, careful not to disturb his quiet routine too much. “Elrond,” you began, dragging his name in a playful sing-song that was sure to catch his attention. You could see his shoulders tense just slightly in acknowledgment. “How long must you sit there ignoring me? You’ve been staring at those scrolls for hours. Do you even know I’m here?” Elrond’s hand paused for a brief moment, his quill hovering just above the parchment. His focus shifted, but only just. Without looking up from the words he was writing, he responded, his voice calm, but laced with that familiar, measured elegance. “I am well aware of your presence, Mellon nín. However, this task demands my attention.” You scoffed lightly, knowing full well that his response was nothing more than an attempt at deflection. His voice was smooth, practiced, but you could feel the tiniest hint of his own frustration under the surface. “More than I do?” you teased, arching an eyebrow, stepping a little closer, your gaze fixated on him with an impish glint. He didn’t look up, but there was the faintest shift in his posture, the smallest of smiles tugging at the corner of his lips. “Patience is a virtue, my dear,” he replied, a quiet warmth in his voice. You pursed your lips and planted your hands on your hips. “Patience is overrated.” The words slipped out with a confident, almost bratty edge, an open challenge. But as you spoke, your eyes wandered. You watched him, the lord of Rivendell, so poised and composed. And then, there it was—the delicate curve of his ear, just peeking through the dark strands of his silken hair.

It was a sight that you had grown to recognize. His ears, those slender points, were not just a distinguishing feature of his race but something deeply personal. To touch them, especially the sensitive tips, was an intimate gesture for an elf. So many unspoken things were tied to that one action, and you couldn’t help but wonder how far you could push him before his patience gave way. The mischievous spark in your eyes grew as the idea took root. If you won’t give me attention willingly, I’ll just have to take it. Your steps were light, but deliberate as you moved behind his chair. His attention was still on the parchment, but you knew—he knows. His incredible hearing, that gift of Elven sensitivity, had undoubtedly already sensed your movement, the slight shift of your presence. Leaning in just a fraction closer, you reached forward, your fingers brushing against the fine, soft strands of his hair. Elrond did not stir, but you could see his ear twitch slightly, ever so subtly. You smiled inwardly. With a barely audible breath, you pinched the very tip of his ear. Elrond’s response was immediate. His quill stopped mid-motion, hovering above the parchment, and his hand froze. His body stilled for a heartbeat, a slight tremor passing through him. The air between you thickened, and you could feel the weight of his attention slowly shifting from his work to you. His sharp, clear eyes widened in surprise for the briefest of moments, before narrowing with a subtle warning. A soft, almost imperceptible intake of breath left his lips as his gaze flickered to you over his shoulder, catching the playful glint in your eyes.

For a moment, he didn’t speak. You could sense him holding his breath, weighing his options. He was torn between annoyance and amusement—torn between the responsibility he bore as the Lord of Rivendell and his inability to deny his body’s reaction to your touch. Elven ears were a sensitive thing—sensitive to both pleasure and pain—and you had expertly walked the fine line between them. His tone, when it came, was low but edged with a warning. “(Y/N), do you truly wish to test me today?” His voice was calm, measured, but there was a flicker of something deeper in the depths of his gaze, something that made your heart beat a little faster.

Feigning innocence, you took a small step back, holding your hands up in a mock gesture of surrender. “Test you? I’d never,” you replied, your voice dripping with mock sweetness, a layer of innocence laid over your mischievous grin. But your eyes—your eyes betrayed you. The glint in them, the playfulness in the curve of your lips, revealed everything that needed no words. Elrond’s gaze softened, but only briefly. There was a softness in his eyes that spoke of a long history of affection, but beneath that, there was something more—a challenge in his stance, a resolve that only you could bring to the surface. He leaned back slightly in his chair, the corners of his mouth curving up just enough to betray his amusement, though the challenge in his eyes remained unyielding. “You are truly a handful, Mellon nín,” he murmured, and there was something almost affectionate in the way he said it. But the look he gave you was a clear warning. You knew this game wasn’t over yet. Not by a long shot.

Before Elrond could return to his work, you reached out again, this time brushing your fingers along the smooth curve of his ear. The response was immediate—his body stiffened, his back straightened with military precision, and his lips pressed into a thin, controlled line. His elegant features, usually so composed, wavered just for a moment, and the tips of his ears turned a faint shade of pink, a silent admission of how deeply your touch affected him. His sharp eyes darted to you, and for a brief second, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability there—something that made the ever-dignified lord seem a touch more… mortal. He caught his breath, as if unsure whether to scold you or indulge your playful torment. “(Y/N),” he said, his voice deeper now, laced with an undeniable warning. “You know how delicate a matter this is. Touching an elf’s ears…” His words trailed off, the weight of his knowledge pressing down. “Oh, I know,” you interrupted, not giving him a chance to finish. A mischievous grin spread across your lips as you leaned in closer. “That’s exactly why it’s so much fun,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper, but laced with just enough intent to make the air between you thick with playful tension.

Elrond’s gaze sharpened, his lips curving into a subtle frown, but there was a spark in his eyes that betrayed a hint of curiosity. “Fun, you say?” His voice held the faintest note of disbelief. “Mm-hmm.” You leaned in even closer, lowering your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “You’re so serious all the time, Elrond. I think you need someone to remind you how to have a little fun now and then.” You saw the slight tension in his jaw as he exhaled softly, resigning himself to the fact that you would not be easily deterred. He set his quill down with exaggerated care, each movement deliberate, as though the moment required his utmost attention. Then, turning in his chair to face you fully, he clasped his hands together, folding them on his lap, his posture one of restrained patience. “And you believe this is the way to achieve that?” he asked, his tone gentle but pointed. You tilted your head, feigning a thoughtful expression. “Well,” you said, drawing out the word, “you leave me no choice. If you won’t look away from your work, I have to get your attention somehow.” Elrond’s lips twitched ever so slightly, and though his gaze remained sharp, there was something in his eyes—something warmer, perhaps even fond—that softened the edges of his irritation. “You are incorrigible,” he muttered with a quiet chuckle, the words losing their sting when paired with the faint smile tugging at his lips.

“Maybe,” you said with a casual shrug, grinning unabashedly. “But you love it.” Before he could offer a retort, you moved again, quicker this time, your fingers catching the soft curve of his ear once more. The moment you made contact, you saw his entire body react—his posture faltered, and his breath hitched sharply, his chest rising and falling just a little faster. His cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, more pronounced now, as though the warmth from your touch had burned straight through his usually composed exterior. With a swift, decisive motion, Elrond reached up to capture your hand in his, his grip firm but not harsh. “That is quite enough,” he said, his voice low and rich, a commanding undertone settling in that was impossible to ignore. There was a promise in his words—something that hinted at retribution, and yet, a part of you couldn’t help but wonder if he enjoyed this little game. “Oh, come on,” you teased, leaning in close enough to see the faintest, barely-contained smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Admit it—you like it when I keep you on your toes.” Elrond’s grey eyes, which usually carried the weight of centuries of wisdom, softened just a fraction, and for a brief moment, he looked younger—almost playful. The flicker of something mischievous sparked in his gaze, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by a tender patience. “What I like,” he said softly, his voice taking on a more indulgent tone, though it still held the weight of that quiet exasperation, “is a challenge. And you, Mellon nín, are most certainly that.”

Triumph surged in your chest at his words, and you flashed him a cocky grin. “So I win?” Elrond’s lips curved upward in the barest of smiles, and his gaze held a knowing gleam, one that suggested you may have won this small victory, but the war was far from over. “Hardly,” he said, his tone a blend of fondness and mild reproach. Before you could process his words, Elrond stood up from his chair with fluid grace, his tall, elegant frame towering over you. You didn’t have a chance to react before he leaned down, his face just inches from yours. The sheer closeness of him—the warmth of his breath mingling with yours—was enough to send your pulse racing. His expression was calm, but his eyes glinted with something far more dangerous, something playful. “You forget, my dear,” he said softly, his voice like velvet as it wrapped around you. “An elf always has the upper hand.” The words held a knowing finality, a promise that you weren’t as in control as you thought. And before you could respond, Elrond’s hand moved, swift as a shadow, brushing the side of your neck with a feather-light touch—deliberately echoing the torment you had visited on his ear. The sensation was electric, the light touch sending a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the unexpected shock of it.

Elrond’s smile deepened as he straightened, leaving you breathless and momentarily off balance. “You see?” he said, his voice victorious. “Two can play at this game.” You glared at him, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. He had turned the tables, and he knew it. His composure was impeccable once again, his features settling back into the calm, regal manner of the Lord of Rivendell. But you saw the smirk on his face, the faintest spark of amusement in his eyes. “Well played,” you admitted grudgingly, your voice a mix of admiration and frustration. “Indeed,” he replied, his voice rich with approval, as he resumed his seat at the desk. He paused for a moment, allowing the tension between you to linger before he spoke again, his tone no less authoritative. “Now, if you are quite finished with your antics, perhaps I can return to my work?” You crossed your arms, huffing in mock indignation. Yet, the glimmer of affection in his eyes softened the blow of his words. Despite everything, despite his firm stance, you could see how much he cared for you in the small, fleeting expressions that he couldn’t quite mask. You’d let him win this round—but only because you were already planning your next move. And this game, you knew, was far from over.

🩵𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓻𝓷

The golden light of Lothlórien filtered softly through the canopy above, dappling Celeborn’s study with patches of warm sunlight. You sat across the room, your chin propped up on your hand as you watched him work. His posture was impeccable as always, back straight, shoulders relaxed, every movement precise as he dipped his quill into the inkpot and scrawled elegant script onto the parchment. His silver hair shimmered like liquid starlight, cascading over his shoulders in waves. At first, the sight was mesmerizing—a portrait of elven grace and focus. But the novelty wore off quickly. The silence stretched on, broken only by the occasional scratch of the quill or the soft rustle of paper. You sighed dramatically, shifting in your seat to make your presence known, but Celeborn remained unbothered, his eyes fixed on his work. The boredom began to creep in, your fingers drumming absently on the armrest of your chair. You studied him closely, your gaze wandering over the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, the slight furrow of his brow as he concentrated. Then your eyes settled on his ears—delicate, pointed, and oh-so-tempting.

You knew enough of elven customs to understand the significance of touching them. Their sensitivity was almost legendary, and to an elf, their ears were as intimate as any touch to the heart. It was precisely why you couldn’t resist. The thought of flustering Celeborn—who was always so composed and regal—sent a mischievous thrill through you. Your lips curled into a sly smile as you shifted in your seat, leaning forward slightly. He didn’t notice. The perfect target. The quill moved steadily in his hand, and his focus remained entirely on the parchment in front of him. Oh, you’d fix that. Your hand darted out, your fingers aiming straight for the pointed tip of his ear, unable to resist the challenge of breaking through that impeccable calm. The smirk widened on your face as you anticipated his reaction, and the game began.

The tranquil stillness of Lothlórien was interrupted not by the sound of an intruding force, nor the rustling of the leaves underfoot, but by a soft, unexpected pinch on Celeborn’s ear. The Sindarin lord paused mid-sentence, his voice faltering as he attempted to resume the careful dictation of a letter to one of his allies. His quill hovered over the parchment, ink threatening to drip onto the pristine surface. A faint pink blush dusted his cheeks, but his expression betrayed nothing more than mild annoyance. Slowly, Celeborn turned his head, his silver hair brushing over his shoulders like flowing water, only to find you perched nearby, a smirk playing across your lips. “Must you?” he asked, his voice even but carrying an undertone of exasperation. “I must,” you replied, your fingers reaching out to tweak the delicate tip of his ear again, your grin widening when he flinched. “You’ve been sitting there for hours, Celeborn. Scribbling letters. Talking to yourself. Boring. I’m rescuing you.”

Celeborn let out a long-suffering sigh, the kind that only someone with millennia of patience could muster. “These letters are of grave importance,” he reminded you, shifting slightly to move his ear out of your reach. His tone was measured and calm, but the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth betrayed the faintest flicker of amusement. “And I am not so easily distracted.” You raised a brow, your bratty demeanor gleaming with mischief. “Oh, I disagree. I think you’re very easily distracted,” you said, leaning closer until you could feel the warmth radiating from him. “Especially when it comes to these.” Your fingers danced toward his ear again, and this time, you lightly traced the pointed tip. Celeborn froze, his body going rigid, the quill slipping from his grasp to land unceremoniously on the desk. His breath hitched, the tiniest sound escaping his lips—a mixture of surprise and irritation, though there was no disguising the faint shiver that coursed through him.

“Stop that,” he said, his voice slightly strained. His usual unflappable composure was beginning to crack, and the sight of it only encouraged you further. “Stop what?” you asked innocently, tilting your head to the side. Your fingers returned, pinching the soft cartilage gently before trailing downward. “This? Or this?” Celeborn’s hand shot up to catch yours, his grip firm but not forceful. His cool gray eyes locked onto yours, the faintest spark of warning in their depths. “You know precisely what you are doing,” he said, his tone low but steady. “And you know precisely what I want,” you countered, not pulling away from his grasp. You leaned in, close enough that your breath tickled his cheek. “A little attention. That’s all. Is it so much to ask?”

“You have my attention,” Celeborn replied, though his voice betrayed just how much effort it took to maintain his calm. “And I would appreciate it if you did not assault my ears in the process.” “Assault?” you repeated with mock outrage, laughing softly. “I think you like it. Your ears don’t lie, Celeborn—they’re turning red.” He let out a slow breath, his grip on your hand loosening just slightly. “My kins ears are sensitive,” he said, his voice dropping to a quieter tone, as if that fact was not already glaringly obvious. “And you are testing my patience.”

“Patience is overrated,” you said breezily, your free hand darting forward to trace the outer curve of his other ear. His reaction was immediate—his shoulders stiffened, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Enough,” he said, and this time there was a distinct note of command in his voice. His hand released yours as he turned in his chair to face you fully, his silver hair cascading over his shoulders. Though his expression remained composed, there was a faint intensity in his gaze now, a hint of something sharper beneath his calm exterior. But you were not deterred. If anything, his reaction only fueled your mischief. “Make me stop,” you teased, leaning back just slightly, though your fingers still hovered near his ear, ready to strike again at a moment’s notice.

Celeborn studied you for a long moment, his keen eyes narrowing slightly as if weighing his options. Then, in a move so swift it caught you off guard, he reached out and caught both your wrists in his hands. His grip was gentle but firm, unyielding as he pulled you closer until there was barely any space between you. “You are relentless,” he said, his voice soft but laced with a quiet authority that made your heart skip a beat. “But if you wish for my attention so badly, you need only ask for it. There is no need for this… torment.” Your smirk faltered for a moment, his closeness and the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill down your spine. But you quickly recovered, leaning in with a playful glint in your eye. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Celeborn sighed again, though this time there was a faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “You are incorrigible,” he said, releasing your wrists but not leaning back. Instead, he reached up and brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering for just a moment. “Perhaps,” you admitted, your tone softening just slightly. “But you love it.” Celeborn’s gaze softened, his serene composure returning as he regarded you with a mixture of affection and exasperation. “I have endured much in my long years,” he said, a faint smile finally breaking through. “But you, I think, will be the greatest test of my patience yet.” “Good,” you said, your grin returning as you leaned back, victorious. “I’d hate to be boring.” As Celeborn returned to his letters, you couldn’t help but notice the faintest twitch of his ears as he tried—unsuccessfully—to ignore the way your eyes lingered on him. Perhaps he wasn’t quite as unflappable as he liked to pretend.

[shelbgrey]

Yes, Sensei(Johnny Lawrence)

Paring: Johnny Lawrence x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Johnny wants to teach his girlfriend a few things, but they get distracted

Warrings: SMUT! Unprotected sex, kinda public sex but you're alone in the dojo, oral(F receiving), small sensei kink, dirty talk, P in V, cream pie, language, age gap couple, the words dick and pussy used.

A/n: this gif makes me feel certain things.

MasterList ML2

Y/n sighed, walking into the room where Johnny had his classes. Johnny thought if anyone was gonna teach his girlfriend any type of self defense it was gonna be him. She walked past him towards one of the matts and bent down in front of him to grab one of the larger ones.

Johnny had to do a double take when she bent down, he couldn't help but stare at the curve of her ass in those tight, black leggings. “Well, damn” he muttered to himself.

“What?” she looked over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow. She knew what she was doing as she dragged the mat over to Johnny.

“Don’t play dumb. You knew exactly what you were doing” He gave her a smirk, his blue eyes traveling every inch of her body with no shame as he helped her put down the mat.

Y/n stepped onto the mat. “And what exactly am I doing, sensei?” she asked in a teasing tone. She always had a playful mock in her tone when she called him that, not realizing what effect that actually had on him.

He stepped onto the mat as well, towering over her. “Wearing those leggings. Trying to distract me”

“Hey, that's your fault. This is all I had left to wear,” she pointed out, not revealing the fact she had plenty to wear and knew what it would do to him if she wore the leggings. “you didn't do laundry like you were supposed to”

“You know I’m not very good at remembering laundry,” Johnny stepped forward and placed his hand lightly on her waist. “You really think I’m gonna be able to teach you anything with that ass distracting me?”

“Well, don't get distracted,” y/n teased. “teach me”

“I’m trying, it's hard though” He muttered to himself, he placed his leg between hers and pushed them apart a bit, forcing her into a slightly wider stance.

Y/n wasn't listening to him, messing up the stance she put her in and did a face side kick.

“Hey! Eyes on me”

She stopped immediately. “yes, sensei” she said, giving him a shit eating grin.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, so first you’re going to learn the stance” He positioned her, moving her hips, her feet, and her arms into the correct position.

Y/n stood in the proper stance, holding her hands up. Damn It felt good to have his rough hands brushing across her skin, adjusting her body to his will. At that moment all she wanted was for him to take her right there on that mat. Then on the other hand a smirk couldn't help but tug in her lip at the serious look on face.

“Now you’re going to try and hit me” He stood across from her in the same stance, but his arms were crossed over his chest.

She did a jokingly, dramatic ‘hi-yah’ and her hand came near him then immediately stopped. Then she just booped his nose with her index finger. “boop”

He sighed and grabbed her wrist. “Cut it with the cutesy bullshit” he said. He tried to sound serious, but he also had a hint of light heartedness in his voice. He never wanted to sound harsh or rude to her. “Come on, actually try and hit me”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “alright, alright” she got back into the stance and went to hit him, which he immediately blocked with ease. She was always fascinated and impressed how karaty was like second nature to him. And deep down watching him train or teach as class never failed to get her hot and bothered.

He easily blocked her second hit, taking her arm and turning to have her back against his chest. “That's all you’ve got, baby?”

She huffed when he turned her around. She pressed her back to his chest and put her hands on the arm he had wrapped around her. “I can do that sidekick thingy”

“That side… kick… thingy,” he rolled his eyes, but let out a deep chuckle at her choice of words. His other hand went to rest on her hip as they stood close to each other. “Which one, Baby? There’s a few”

“Hang on” y/n moved out of his grip then faced him. She stood on one foot and did a bad side kick move and did an overly dramatic karate noise. She had also lost balance immediately and fell down on the mat.

Johnny burst out laughing, unable to keep holding it in after he saw her fall. “You okay down there, y/n?”

“No, I'm in complete agony” she said sarcastically.

He knelt down in front of her, and gently tilted her chin up with his fingers. “Such a drama queen”

Y/n stuck her tongue out, making him smirk. “Oh I’m sure you could put that tongue too much better use”

“Oh, yeah?”

He moved to be over her, pressing her down against the mat with his body, his hands holding himself up to look down at her. “Yeah, I’m sure I can think of something”

“Mm, I can think of a few things” she smirked, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He smiled and bent down a bit, his lips close enough to hers that their noses were touching. “Why don’t you show me?”

“Yes, sensei” she whispered seductively and pressed her lips against his roughly. He groaned softly at the sudden kiss, his lips parting for her tounge to slide across his. His hands moved down to rest on either side of her head, his fingers digging into the mat lightly as the kiss got more heated. His tongue moved against hers, exploring her mouth slowly.

Y/n moaned softly against his lips, cupping his jaw as their tongues tangled together. She hooked one of her legs over his waist, pulling him closer. His other leg moved between her thighs, spreading them wider as he settled himself more comfortably between them. His hands tightened around her waist possessively.

“J-Johnny” she moaned softly.

Johnny moved one hand to her thigh, holding it as he pushed his hips against hers, pressing her even more into the mat. His tongue moved against her as he kissed her hungrily, moving to her neck as he spoke in a low voice. “Maybe we should continue this in the office”

“don't you want to take your girlfriend right here in the middle of your dojo, sensei Lawrence?” she teased in a teasing, seductive voice.

He growled against her neck, biting gently “You're pushing your luck, y/n,” His hand moved higher up her thigh. “And for the record, you're not exactly being very respectful to your sensei right now”

“I'm sorry, sensei” she said softly, trying to give him puppy eyes, but they were too lust full.

He groaned at her expression, moving back up to capture her lips again. “That look, that fucking look” His hand moved to cup her face, kissing her more intensely, pulling a moan from her. “You know what that does to me” His fingers trailed down her jawline. “Such a fucking brat”

He broke the kiss, panting softly as he stared down at her with darkened eyes. “You want me to show you what happens to brats in my dojo?” His voice was low and husky with restrained desire, making her look up at him with doe eyes.

He smirked at her lustful gaze, deliberately rolling his hips against hers, making her moan. “Words, Baby. I want to hear you say it,” His hand moved to grip her hair lightly, just at the nape of her neck. “Tell me exactly what you want, right here”

“Fuck me” she moaned breathlessly as her voice sounded so desperate and needy. She gripped his biceps tight to prove her point.

His eyes darkened even further at her words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He pulled her hair slightly, tilting her head back as he kissed her roughly. “That's it. Ask your sensei to fuck you in the middle of the dojo”

Y/n moaned against his lips, tugging at his hair. “P-please,” she moaned desperately, submitting to him. “please fuck me, Sensei, r-right here” she begged and stuttered.

He smirked wickedly at her desperate plea as he ground his hips against hers teasingly. “Such a needy little thing, aren't you? Begging your sensei to fuck you right here”

“J-Johnny”

He silenced her with a hard kiss, his tongue invading her mouth possessively. “Shut up and spread your legs, brat. I'm gonna give you what you need” He commanded harshly, his hands moving to her knees and pushing them apart roughly.

Y/n's head fell back against the mat as she spread her legs for him. She was so desperate for him, soaking wet through the black leggings that covered the part of her body that needed him most.

He looked down at her spread legs, his eyes dark with lust as he took in the sight of her soaked leggings. He reached down, hooking his fingers into the waistband and pulling them down roughly, revealing her pink lace panties. “Fuck, you're soaked”

Y/n's breath hitched as she arched her hips up to help him get her leggings off. Johnny tugged them off completely, tossing them aside. He let out a low groan as he gazed at the damp spot on her panties. “Look at that, you're dripping for me already, aren't you?” His fingers traced the damp lace teasingly.

Y/n moaned desperately, her head falling back against the mat. “y-yes, sensei”

He growled possessively at her response, his fingers hooking into the waistband of her panties and pulling them down as well. He tossed them aside, leaving her completely bare and exposed before him. "Fucking hell, baby”

“J-Johnny” she moaned softly and desperately.

Johnny looked up at her with a wicked grin, his hands gripping her inner thighs and spreading her legs even wider. He leaned down, his hot breath fanning over her exposed center. “You want my mouth on this pretty little pussy, don't you?”

“Y-yes!” y/n moaned.

He chuckled darkly, his tongue flicking out to taste her, making her gasp. He groaned at her flavor, diving in and eating her out like a starving man. His hands gripped her hips, holding her in place as he feasted on her. “so fucking sweet”

She threw her head back against the mat in pleasure. She gripped his hair, arching her hips up. “j-Johnny!” she cried out louder.

He sucked on her clit, flicking his tongue against it rapidly as he ate her out. His nose buried in her pussy, inhaling her sweet scent deeply. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with lust as he saw her gripping his hair and arching her hips. “Fuck, baby”

He groaned, hooking her leg over his shoulder, giving him even better access to her pussy. He licked and sucked her clit, feeling her getting closer and closer to the edge. He slid a finger inside her, curling it up to hit her G-spot.

“Fuck, J-Johnny!”

He added another finger, pumping them in and out of her as he continued to suck on her swollen nub. He could feel her getting closer, her inner walls trembling around his fingers. He growled possessively against her, sending vibrations through her sensitive flesh.

“Johnny, I'm close!”

He doubled his efforts, sucking harder and curling his fingers deeper, determined to make her cum undone. His other hand gripped her ass, squeezing the soft flesh as he held her tight against his face. “Don't hold back, baby. Cum all over my face. Show me what I do to you”

“Johnny!” she cried out, cumming on his tongue.

He groaned in satisfaction as he felt her cumming, the taste of her filling his mouth. He continued to lap at her, prolonging her climax until she was trembling and sensitive. Finally, he pulled back, his lips and chin shiny with her juices. He climbed up her body, his hard dick pressing against her stomach. He captured her lips in a searing kiss, letting her taste herself on his mouth. He broke the kiss to look down at her, his eyes full of desire and possession. “You taste so fucking good, baby”

Y/n moaned against his lips, wrapping her arms around his neck. He nuzzled against her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. He could feel his release getting closer just from the intimacy of holding her like this. He nudged her legs apart with his knees, settling himself between her thighs once more.

“N-need you” y/n mumbled desperately, tugging at his sweatpants.

He quickly pulled his sweatpants down, freeing his hard, throbbing cock. He didn't even bother to take off his shirt, too desperate to be inside her. He grabbed her hips and positioned himself at her entrance, his tip teasing her wet folds. “You need me where, baby?”

“You know where I need you”

He smirked, unable to resist teasing her even in his desperation. “Oh, you mean right here?” He rubbed the head of his cock along her slit, coating himself in her arousal. “Beg for it, baby. Tell me exactly what you want”

“P-please, Johnny,” she arched her hips up, desperate for some friction and needing him closer. “I need you inside me”

His control snapped at her plea. He grabbed her hips and thrust his cock deep inside her in one swift motion, not even giving her a second to adjust before he started pounding into her. “Fuck, you're so tight!” He grunted, his balls slapping against her ass with each thrust.

“Johnny!” she gasped, digging her nails into his back and wrapping her legs around his waist.

He grunted as he felt her nails digging into his back, the slight pain only adding to his pleasure. He leaned down to capture her lips in a messy, aggressive kiss as he continued to fuck her hard and fast, their bodies slamming together as she moaned against his lips. Her tongue with his roughly as she raked her nails down his back. “You feel so fucking good, baby”

He hissed at the stinging pain of her nails on his back, but it only spurred him on. He wrapped his arms around her, lifting her up slightly and changing the angle of his thrusts so that he was hitting her deeper with each pump of his hips. “Come on, baby”

“J-John,” y/n gasped, tugging at his hair. “Johnny, I'm close!” she moaned desperately.

He groaned at her desperate cries, he redoubled his efforts, feeling his own climax barreling towards him. He gripped her ass tighter, plunging into her feverishly as he chased their mutual pleasure. “Come for me, y/n. Cum all over my cock, baby”

She gasped, throwing her head back in pleasure. The pressure of the overwhelming orgasm made her eyes roll back as she dug my nails into his back. “Fuck, Johnny!” she cried out, cumming on his cock.

He moaned at the feeling of her tight pussy clenching around him, he lost it. With a loud grunt, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard inside her, making her moan as his hot seed filling her up as he continued to thrust into her spasming cunt, prolonging his orgasm. “Fuck!”

As the final waves of pleasure subsided, Johnny collapsed on top of y/n, both of them panting heavily. He nuzzled into her neck, pressing soft kisses to her damp skin. “Holy shit, that was intense” He murmured, a satisfied smirk curling his lips.

Y/n suddered, trying to catch her breath as she nuzzled her face into his neck. He held her close, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. For a moment, he just stayed there, enjoying the afterglow and the warmth of her body pressed against his. “You okay, baby?” He asked softly, his voice rough from exertion.

“I'm great,” she smiled softly.

He grinned and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips before pulling out of her slowly. He winced slightly as he felt their combined juices leak out of her. “Damn, that's a mess” He chuckled, looking down at the sticky substance on his cock and her inner thighs.

“Your fault,” she joked softly. She shifted her legs slightly, feeling her skin stick to the training mat slightly.

He snorted and shook his head, a playful smirk on his face. “Yeah, well, can't say I regret a second of it” He stood up, admiring y/n's flushed and sated form sprawled out on the mat.

“mhm” she hummed, stretching.

He grabbed a towel from the nearby equipment shelf and crouched down next to her, gently wiping the sticky residue from her inner thighs. It made her moan softly as the soft material made contact with her sensitive core. He couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation - they'd just had sex on the training mat like a couple of animals.

He saw her wince and moan softly as he cleaned her up, and he couldn't resist teasing her a little. He slowly dragged the towel between her thighs, watching her face contort with sensitivity. “Damn, you're so sensitive now”

“Usually how it works,” she said softly and sarcastically.

He barked out a laugh at her sassy response, shaking his head as he finished wiping her down. “Smartass” He tossed the towel aside and stretched out beside her on the mat, propping himself up on an elbow to gaze down at her with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“What?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Just admiring my handiwork” He grinned, reaching out to run a finger along her collarbone, down the valley of her breasts, and over her flat stomach. His touch was light and teasing, but also possessive.

“Of course, why wouldn't you?” she rolled my eyes playfully.

He chuckled and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her stomach, his breath warm against her skin. “Because I just fucked you stupid on the training mat, and now I get to bask in the afterglow of knowing I made you feel that good”

Y/n smirked. “I guess you're right.You did make me feel pretty good” she teased, but told nothing but the truth.

He lifted his head to look at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he smirked back. “‘Pretty good’?” He quoted, his fingers splaying out over her stomach possessively. “You make it sound like it was nothing special” He pretended to pout.

“I think the mess on your dick and the training mat says enough” y/n teased.

He burst out laughing at her comment, shaking his head in amusement. “Fuck, you're something else, you know that?” He said as he leaned down to press a firm kiss to her lips. “But you're right, the mess speaks for itself”

“But, yes... You were amazing”

He smiled warmly at her praise, his heart swelling with affection for this stubborn, sassy woman. “And you were incredible, as always,” He murmured against her lips, his voice filled with adoration. “I don't know what I'd do without you, Baby”

To that, y/n lifted her head and gave him a soft, quick kiss on the lips. He deepened the kiss, his hand sliding up to cup her cheek possessively. When they broke apart, he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes searching hers intensely. “I love you, okay? I know I don't say it enough, but I fucking love you so much it hurts sometimes”

Y/n looked into his blue eyes, smiling lovingly. “I love you too”

He held her gaze for a moment longer before speaking. “Say it again,” He whispered, his voice hoarse. “I need to hear it one more time today” He murmured, his thumb rubbing her cheek gently.

“I love you, Sensei Lawrence,” she said, giving him a cute smile.

A dopey grin spread across his face. “Goddamn, that's still hot when you call me Sensei” He said with a chuckle, nuzzling against her neck.

Y/n chuckled softly, running my fingers through his hair, making him hum contentedly. He leaned in, nuzzling into her touch. They lay there for a while longer, basking in the post-coital glow and the warm feelings that had grown between them. Eventually, he lifted his head to look at her again, his expression turning more serious. “Hey, y/n?”

“hm?”

He carefully brushed a strand of hair from her face, his expression thoughtful. “Being with you, it makes me want to be a better man. To be worthy of you” His voice carried a very rare vulnerability.

“You are worthy” she said softly, cupping his jaw and gently rubbing his cheek.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “I don't know what I did to deserve you, but I'm grateful every fucking day” He opened his eyes again, looking at her with unabashed love and adoration.

“You're such a big softy after sex” y/n teased lovingly.

He scoffed, but a soft smile tugged at his lips. “Shut up,” He murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You bring out this mushy shit in me. I can't help it” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

“Definitely not complaining”

He nuzzled into her neck, inhaling her scent deeply. “You know what else you make me want to do after sex?” He asked mischievously, his fingers tracing patterns on her back.

“What?”

He leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered. “Order a huge pizza. I'm fucking starving after that workout” He gave a playful wink, his stomach rumbling loudly as if on cue to emphasize his point.

Y/n scoffed playfully, rolling her eyes. “such a romantic thing to say to your girlfriend after sex”

He chuckled and shrugged unapologetically. “Hey, I'm a simple man. Food and a beautiful woman, that's all I need,” He grinned, giving her a quick kiss on the lips before sitting up and stretching lazily. “Is Pepperoni okay?”

Y/n sat up from the mat, putting her shirt back on. “yeah, sounds good”

He pulled on his own shirt, a well-worn white t-shirt that hugged his muscular frame, before pulling out his phone to place the order. “Alright, pizza will be ready in 15. We'll pick it up on the way home” He said, putting his phone in his pocket.

Y/n reached over for her leggings and pulled them on. “m'kay”

He watched as she pulled on her leggings, admiring her legs appreciatively. “Fuck, you in those leggings, almost as good as seeing you out of them,” He teased with a mischievous grin, grabbing his jacket off the floor. “Almost”

She rolled her eyes playfully as she pulled her converse back on and tied them. She stood up from the mat and pecked him on the lips. “your gonna need to do deep cleaning on the mat before your next class”

He cracked a grin as he surveyed the disheveled state of the training mat, his mind still fuzzy from the afterglow. “Eh, I'll get to it later. Priorities, Baby” He winked at her, pulling her in for one last tight hug.

“I'm serious, bleach, holy water, I don't care just clean it,” she gave him a playful glare. “I won't be able to look Hawk or Miguel in the eyes if they used that same mat after we did what we did”

He burst into laughter, pulling her closer and kissing the tip of her nose. “Alright, alright, you're right. I'll get it done before my next class. Happy?” His hands found their way to cup her ass through the leggings. “Though I gotta admit, it was totally worth it”

She went to swat his hand away, but he caught her wrist in his hand, pulling her closer with a cocky smirk. “Hey now, none of that. You were just as into it as I was,” He pressed a lingering kiss to her neck. “And don't act like you didn't enjoy getting a private lesson from your sensei”

A small shiver went down her spine and her cheeks went red at the way he whispered the last part in her ear. He immediately noticed her reaction and chuckled, his grip on her wrist tightening affectionately. “Yeah, that's what I thought. Alright, let's go get that pizza. I'm fucking starving” He led her out of the dojo, still holding her wrist in his hand.

[autisticadult]

The deal

Chapter three: danger around every corner

Warnings: a small spicy moment ;) as well as some violence and a car accident, as always minors DNI

AN: I really like this chapter, I know it’s shorter than most but the ANGST that is to come after this is AHHHHHHH- yall I’m geekin

Taglist: @tinysunshine @shadyloveobject

Chapter Three: The Game Begins

The morning after Elijah’s unexpected visit, you awoke with a strange sense of clarity and unease. His words, his touch, and that kiss haunted you, playing on a loop in your mind. He had promised protection but also laid bare the danger of being tied to him. And yet, the fire he’d ignited in you refused to be extinguished.

As you dressed for the day, the mansion felt quieter than usual, the kind of silence that didn’t promise peace but instead hinted at a brewing storm. You wandered downstairs, unsure of what the day would bring.

In the parlor, Rebekah sat lounging on a chaise, flipping through an old leather-bound book. She glanced up as you entered, her lips curving into a knowing smirk.

“Well, well,” she drawled, closing the book with a soft thud. “You look… distracted.”

You froze under her sharp gaze, wondering if she somehow knew what had transpired between you and Elijah.

“Not distracted,” you replied quickly. “Just… tired.”

Rebekah’s smirk deepened, and she stood, circling you like a predator sizing up its prey. “Tired, hm? Or perhaps… preoccupied with my brother’s newfound interest in you?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to remain calm. “I’m here because of a deal. That’s it.”

“Oh, darling,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. “You’re here because Elijah wanted you here. You think this is about protecting your brother? Please. My dear brother doesn’t lift a finger unless it benefits him in some way.”

Her words hit too close to the truth, but you refused to let her see your doubt. “I know what I’m doing,” you said firmly.

Rebekah let out a laugh, throwing her head back as though you’d told the funniest joke she’d ever heard. “Do you? Oh, Y/N, you’re in so far over your head you can’t even see the surface anymore.”

Before you could respond, Kol entered the room, his ever-present smirk making you tense. He glanced between you and Rebekah, clearly picking up on the tension.

“What’s this?” he asked, sauntering over. “Another one of Rebekah’s delightful attempts at psychological warfare?”

Rebekah rolled her eyes. “Just trying to help our little guest understand her place here.”

Kol grinned, his dark eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, but that’s Elijah’s specialty, isn’t it? Our noble brother does love his little chess games.”

“Enough,” came a calm but commanding voice from the doorway.

Elijah entered the room, his presence instantly silencing the sibling bickering. He looked at Rebekah and Kol with a quiet authority that needed no words, then turned his gaze to you.

“Y/N,” he said smoothly, “a moment, if you please.”

You followed him without hesitation, aware of Rebekah and Kol’s eyes boring into your back. Elijah led you to the sunlit conservatory, a room filled with lush greenery and the scent of fresh flowers. It was a stark contrast to the tension swirling inside you.

He gestured for you to sit on a small bench near the window, and when he spoke, his tone was as measured and deliberate as ever.

“I trust you’ve had time to reflect on last night,” he began.

You nodded, your heart pounding. “I have.”

“And?”

You hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I don’t fully understand your plans, Elijah. But I’m willing to do what it takes to survive.”

His lips curved into a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Survival is an admirable instinct. But if you wish to thrive in my world, you must learn to do more than endure. You must adapt, anticipate, and, when necessary, strike.”

You swallowed hard. “What do you want from me, Elijah? Really?”

His gaze bore into you, unflinching. “I want loyalty. Unquestioning, unwavering loyalty. In return, I will ensure your safety and your brother’s freedom.”

It was the same promise he’d made before, but now it felt heavier, like a chain wrapping tighter around you.

“Then tell me how,” you said. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

Elijah stepped closer, his hands clasped behind his back. “Tonight, we attend another gathering. This one is far more… intimate.”

Your stomach twisted. “What kind of gathering?”

“Let’s call it a negotiation,” he said. “There are certain individuals who require convincing that our interests align.”

“And my role?”

He tilted his head, studying you. “To observe. To learn. And, if necessary, to intervene.”

“Intervene how?”

“You’ll know when the time comes,” he said cryptically. “For now, prepare yourself. This will be unlike anything you’ve experienced.”

Before you could ask more questions, he turned and left, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the growing weight of your choices.

That evening, you found yourself once again dressed in something Elijah had chosen for you—a sleek black dress that clung to your frame, elegant yet understated. You stood in front of a mirror, your reflection almost unrecognizable.

The ride to the meeting was quiet, Elijah’s calm presence both reassuring and unnerving. When you arrived, you were led into a dimly lit room filled with people who exuded power and danger. The atmosphere was charged, every glance and movement carrying unspoken threats.

Elijah guided you to a seat beside him, his hand briefly resting on the small of your back—a subtle gesture of control and reassurance.

The discussion began, a tense exchange of words laced with veiled threats and promises. You listened carefully, trying to piece together the underlying power dynamics.

Then, as the conversation grew more heated, one of the men turned his attention to you.

“And who is this?” he asked, his voice dripping with condescension. “Elijah’s new toy?”

Before you could respond, Elijah’s voice cut through the room like a blade.

“Perhaps she is,” he said coldly. Elijah’s hands twitched where they laid rested at his side, clenching into fists as she did. “And you would do well to show her the same respect you show me.” He threatened in a low growl, staring daggers into the man. “I don’t share my toys, you’ll do well to remember that.”

The man’s smirk faltered, and the room fell silent.

Elijah leaned back in his chair, his gaze steady. “Now, shall we continue?”

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, but the weight of Elijah’s words stayed with you. He had defended you, claimed you as his, in front of people who could destroy you with a single command.

———————————————————————

As you left the meeting, Elijah’s hand brushed against yours, a subtle but deliberate gesture.

“You did well pet. You deserve a treat.” he said softly.

The warmth in his voice unsettled you as much as it comforted you. Because as much as you wanted to trust him, you knew better. Elijah Mikaelson didn’t do anything without a reason. And whatever his plans were for you, they were far from over.

The ride back to the Mikaelson estate felt different this time. The night was thick with tension—not just from the gathering they had left behind, but from what had passed between you and Elijah. You couldn’t forget the way his lips had felt against yours, the way his hand had tangled in your hair as if grounding you to the moment. And now, sitting beside him in the car, the air felt electric, charged with something unspoken but undeniable.

The sleek car glided through the quiet streets of New Orleans, the soft hum of the engine the only sound between you. The city outside was alive in its usual way—dim streetlights flickering, shadows darting between alleys, and the occasional echo of a distant saxophone. But inside the car, the silence was deafening. You could feel Elijah’s presence beside you, his calm demeanor somehow more unsettling after what had transpired.

Soon, your heart began to race as he pulled over to the side of the road, flicking the cabin light on and staring you head on. His usual cold glare held something different, something softer, hungrier

You dared a glance at him, your pulse quickening when you found his dark eyes already on you.

“Elijah,” you began, unsure of what you were about to say.

He arched a brow, a ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Yes?”

Your words caught in your throat, the weight of his gaze pinning you to the seat. “Earlier,” you managed, your voice quieter than you intended, “what happened—”

“What happened,” he interrupted smoothly, his voice low and deliberate, “was the truth finding its way to the surface.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding. “And what truth is that?”

“That you belong here,” he said, his tone sending a shiver down your spine. “With me.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and intimate. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Elijah leaned closer. His hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. The touch was light, but it sent sparks coursing through your skin.

“You may deny it to yourself,” he murmured, his breath warm against your cheek. “But you can’t hide it from me.”

His fingers lingered against your jaw, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. The space between you seemed to shrink with every heartbeat, the tension palpable. You knew you should pull away, say something, do anything to break the spell he was weaving around you. But you couldn’t.

“Elijah…” His name slipped from your lips like a plea, though you weren’t sure what you were asking for.

His eyes flickered to your lips, and in the dim light of the car, you swore you saw something raw and unguarded flash across his face. “Tell me to stop,” he whispered, his voice a soft command.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you leaned into him, the pull between you too strong to resist. The kiss was slow at first, his lips moving against yours with a precision that left no room for hesitation. His hand slid to the back of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, while his other hand rested on your thigh, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your dress.

You gasped against his mouth, your hands finding the lapels of his jacket as if to anchor yourself. Elijah responded by pulling you closer, his touch possessive yet measured, like he was staking a claim.

The car swerved slightly as the driver hit a pothole, breaking the moment just enough for you to remember where you were.

“Elijah,” you whispered breathlessly, your fingers still clutching his jacket.

“Hmm?” he hummed, his lips brushing against your jaw now, his voice low and filled with a dark kind of amusement.

“We’re…” You trailed off, unable to form a coherent thought as his hand slid up to your waist.

“Quite safe,” he assured you, his tone calm despite the fire blazing between you.

But then, as if on cue, the car jolted violently.

You barely had time to process what was happening before the screech of tires and the deafening sound of metal crunching filled the air. The car spun, your body jerking against the seatbelt as adrenaline surged through you. Elijah’s arm shot out instinctively, bracing you against the sudden chaos.

The impact was brutal, the car slamming to a halt against something solid. Your vision blurred for a moment, the world tilting on its axis as the sound of the crash echoed in your ears. You felt something warm and wet starting to trickle onto your forehead. The car had hit from the passenger side, and y/n was dazed, the impact messing with her the most.

“Elijah?” you croaked, your voice trembling as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

“I’m here,” he said, his voice steady despite the chaos. His hand was already on your arm, his touch grounding. “Are you hurt?”

“I don’t know, what just happened?” you managed, though your heart was racing so fast you could barely breathe.

Before he could respond, the sound of car doors slamming outside made your blood run cold. Shadows moved beyond the cracked windows, and the unmistakable sound of footsteps approached.

“Elijah,” you whispered, fear creeping into your voice.

“I’m coming don’t move.” he ordered, his voice sharp and commanding as he quickly unbuckled himself, reaching for the car door handle.

But before he could open his door, your door was wrenched off its hinges. A group of men stood outside, their faces obscured by masks, their weapons gleaming in the moonlight.

“Elijah Mikaelson,” one of them drawled, his voice thick with disdain. “What an unexpected pleasure.”

Elijah didn’t flinch, his calm demeanor unshaken. “If you’re wise, you’ll turn around and leave now.”

The man laughed, the sound cold and cruel. “Oh, I don’t think so. We’ve been waiting for this opportunity for a long time.”

Before you could react, one of the men reached into the car, grabbing you by the arm.

“Let go of her!” Elijah’s voice was a deadly growl, but the man holding you only tightened his grip, dragging you out of the car.

“Elijah!” you screamed, struggling against the man’s hold.

“Elijah Mikaelson might be untouchable,” the leader sneered, “but you? You’re fair game.”

“Elijah!” you cried again, your voice desperate as the men began to drag you away.

The last thing you saw before they pulled you into the shadows was Elijah’s face, a mask of cold fury that promised retribution.

And then, everything went dark.

[sweetimpurity]

Hello what would be the type of Miguel physically and mentally ?

Hi anon! ☺️ now if I’m understanding this correctly, we’re talking about Miguel’s “type”

💕Keep in mind this is MY PERSONAL HC so if this doesn’t align with your own HC then that’s why! 💕 everyone is beautiful and Miguel loves you!!

So physically I like to imagine Miguel’s type being someone thicker all around, overall just a bigger person. Also bc he’s so big you’re gonna be small compared to him no matter what. Thick thighs, plush belly and love handles, just soft and squishy and beautiful! Our man Miguel wants something to hold on to y’know? And he’s so strong 200lbs is like a feather to him. He loves your round adorable cheeks and the crease where your fleshy thigh meets your hip.

He’d lift you up, carry you, throw you around and it would be no problem at all. Getting handsy he’d grab the backs of your thighs in his giant hands as you’re walking around. Slapping your ass and generally being annoying. That is, after he gets comfortable with you. Before you two get together, he’s Mr. Serious Guy. If he has feelings for you you’d never know it because he’s the master of ignoring his own feelings for the good of some ‘greater purpose’. He’d watch you around the Society and in his surveillance footage. Watching you squeeze into your spider suit and wishing he could claw at the love handles curving your sides. Getting in your spider pose he’d have to distract himself from looking at your bum in your suit >o<

And a height difference is a given! He’s taller than like most of the population so he’d most likely have a good 1-2 ft over you. He’d love sitting you up on the kitchen counter or onto his desk to be at eye level with him. But he’d love even more looking down at you whenever your pretty face graces his office.

Basically, he’d be obsessed with you and once he gets comfortable, he can’t get his hands off.

Mentally and emotionally Miguel goes for someone who can keep him grounded when he’s freaking out. (All the time) He’s got anxiety and ptsd so he needs you to give him reassurance even if he’s stubborn and refuses your help. And at this point in time he doesn’t have the capacity for little flings. If he’s going to pursue something with you, he needs to know it’s going to be real. And although he’s stubborn most of the time, he’s good at honestly stating what he needs from you. And you’d learn to do the same as well. So there’s no energy wasted or time spent mulling or worrying over things for no reason.

He’d also go for someone who reminds him of how he used to be before everything fell apart in his life. Someone who shares his sense of humor and someone who will encourage his laughter and smile. After all, being with you has brought his smile back.

[autumnshighlady]

Teacher's Pet

Nesta Archeron x female!reader

first part in The Professor Series

summary: Dr. Archeron is the strictest professor you've ever had. No matter how hard you try, you can't get her to praise your work. That is, until she calls you into her office

warnings: smut, power dynamic, mean Nesta Archeron, 18+ only

word count: 3.7k

request: my legs shake just thinking about Professor Nesta x reader. Nesta being a serious, rigid and sadistic teacher. And the student being the typical exemplary student

a/n: this is part one of my professor series! each fic will be on the shorter side so I can get as many characters done as possible. Enjoy!

series playlist on Spotify here

DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE

✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧✧

You sat in the centre seat at the front row of class, furiously scribbling down notes in your book. Your hand ached with the effort to keep up with the professor’s sharp voice, but you fought through it. The echoing of pens on paper filled the lecture hall, a dull background noise amidst the lecture on classical literature. It was the only class where every single student paid attention and behaved, for fear of suffering the wrath of the icy professor, Dr. Nesta Archeron.

The female was the most feared teacher in Velaris, known for her sharp tongue, tough grading, and zero tolerance policy for bullshit. She commanded the classroom like a general over an army, with complete and utter authority. She was also the hardest one to get praise from, much to your disappointment. You were a straight-A student, always at the top of your class. Your teachers had always loved you, often commenting on your intelligence and eagerness to learn. 

All except Dr. Archeron.

No matter how hard you tried, you were unable to get a single positive comment from her. The most you’d gotten was a nod of her head, and even that earned you hushed congratulations from your classmates around you. Therefore, you had made it your mission to get one compliment from her before you graduated. And you had three months left, and so far nothing.

It was particularly difficult to concentrate today, however. The professor had her hair done up in its usual coronet, a few loose strands framing her sharp face. She was wearing a black turtleneck that hugged her curves, forcing you to keep your eyes on her face. It was paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and sheer black tight underneath, topped off with knee high black boots. In other words, she looked stunning. Well, she looked that way every day, but for some reason today your brain decided to fixate on it even more.

God, those boots made you want to just drop to your knees in front of her–

“Miss (Y/N).” A familiar sharp voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look up. Dr. Archeron was staring down at you, an unimpressed scowl written across her features.

“Yes, ma’am?” You asked, voice quiet. Your cheeks flushed red with embarrassment, and you just wanted to crawl under the desk beneath her grey gaze.

“Did you even hear my question, or were you too busy daydreaming?” She demanded, arms crossed.

“No ma’am.” You answered sheepishly, wringing your hands together. “If you could possibly repeat–”

She cut you off, voice as cold as ancient stone. “No. This is the third time I’ve caught you distracted in this class today. Since I’m clearly distracting you from daydreaming, you have no reason to be here.”

Your heart dropped in your stomach. Never before had a teacher spoken to you this harshly. It made tears well up in your eyes. “Professor–” You began to protest, but were interrupted once again.

“Leave, now. See me in my office at 5pm.” She did not spare you a single glance as she turned away to resume the lecture.

Fighting back the tears, you gathered your stuff as hastily as possible. Nearly tripping over your bag, you scurried out of the classroom, letting the door slam aggressively behind you. It was childish, and you regretted it immediately once you realised you’d have to face the professor again later.

5pm was a strange time to meet in her office, you thought to yourself. Normally most professors have left campus by then, but you didn’t think much of it. Tossing your stuff on a nearby bench, you sat down and put your head in your hands. You couldn’t hold the tears back any longer, and they began to fall down your face. You spent the entire semester trying to get Dr. Archeron to like you, and you had just blown it. All because your stupid brain got distracted by how good she looked. You were no better than a man.

“Hey, doll.” The cheerful voice of the archival studies professor, Dr. Helion, sounded a few feet away.

You quickly wiped your tears, trying hard as possible to hide the evidence of your crying before lifting your head to meet his bright gaze. “Hi, Dr. Helion.” You said, hoping he was on his way to a meeting or something and would pass by.

The professor paused, cocking his head. “What’s wrong, sugar?”

His kind voice broke your composure, and you began crying again. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Helion was not phased, however. He took a seat next to you, placing a large hand on your shoulder. “It’s ok.” He murmured, rubbing your back. “Let it out.”

After a few minutes of sobbing underneath the professor’s touch, you finally caught your breath. You felt a little better having cried – Dr. Helion was the go-to professor for informal life advice. He was popular amongst the students not just for his stunningly good looks, but his wisdom. You knew you weren’t the first student to cry on his shoulder, and wouldn’t be the last.

“So,” He said. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“My literature class,” You mumbled, wiping your hair from your face. “I got kicked out.”

Dr. Helion frowned. “Kicked out? What’d you do, kill someone in the middle of class? You’re my best student!

You laughed. “I think I’d feel better if I had killed someone and gotten kicked out. She just… Dr. Archeron got so mad because I missed her question. I don’t think I deserved to be kicked out for that. I have to go see her in her office later today, I’m worried she’s going to fail me or something.”

Dr. Helion sighed, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “That’s fair. Dr. Archeron is tough, that’s for sure. See what she has to say when you meet with her, then give her your side of the story. She’s strict, but reasonable. Don’t let it get to you. You’re a brilliant student.”

You smiled at him, the anxiety in your stomach easing up at his comfort. “Thank you, professor.”

“Anytime.” He stood up and began to walk away, but turned to face you one last time. “Just between you and me, she likes you. That’s why she was so tough on you. She wants you to succeed.” Helion flashed you a wink before departing down the corridor, leaving you more confused than ever.

Dr. Archeron liked you? Enough to mention it to Dr. Helion? It seemed like she hated you just as much as any other student. It only made your nervousness come back as you checked the time, groaning when you realised you had six hours to kill before your meeting with Dr. Archeron. Literature was your only class for the day, and you lived all the way on the other side of the city. It wasn’t worth the long trek there and back, so you decided to find something to eat and review next week’s readings while you waited.

****************

Finally, 4:55pm came. You checked your outfit one last time in the bathroom mirror. You donned a simple pair of leggings with a low-cut red tank top that made your boobs look good. A soft grey cardigan was draped over your shoulders, your hair left down and framing your face. You normally tried to look a bit less casual, but today was not your day it seemed. Taking a deep breath to calm your nerves you took the steps down the hallway to Dr. Archeron’s office door.

4:58pm.

You paced back and forth outside her door, overthinking. You weren’t sure if you should wait two minutes in case she was busy, or if you should knock early. At this point, you didn’t want to do anything to risk her wrath again, so you continued to pace until you heard a stern, “Come in, (Y/N).”

Sighing, you pushed open the door and stepped inside Dr. Archeron’s office. It was a beautiful space – rich, wooden shelves with hundreds of old books lining them, a large green sofa with plush white pillows at either end, and a beige rug in front of the desk that adorned the centre of the room. The professor didn’t look up as you closed the door behind you. “Were you trying to make a hole in the floor? I could hear you pacing from in here.”

“Apologies, professor.” You muttered, taking a seat in the armchair across the desk.

“Speak up.” She demanded, still not sparing you a glance as she continued writing something on a piece of paper.

“I…” Your voice trailed off, unsure of what to say. You were at a loss – normally you excelled in conversation with professors, the skill coming naturally to you. But your throat was dry, and no words came out.

Finally, Dr. Archeron looked up at you. Her grey eyes met yours, utterly unflinching. “You’re nervous.” She stated rather than asked.

You paused the wringing of your hands. “No–”

“Let’s not lie to each other, shall we?” The professor said, putting down her pen and resting her elbows on the desk. “I’ll try again. You’re nervous.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You make me nervous.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt your face getting red again. To your surprise, the corner of Dr. Archeron’s lip twitched.

“Because I’m a strict, heartless professor?” She said casually. “I know my reputation. I’m proud of it. It gets students to obey me. I’ve heard many great things about you, miss (Y/N). You’re a star student. Perhaps I make you nervous because I don’t sing praises in your ear for everything you do?”

You flinched at her harshness. It felt like an insult, like she was mocking you for being praised so much. Defeated, you admitted a quiet “Yes.”

You looked down at your hands as the sound of a chair scraping on the floor echoed throughout the room. High heels clacked on the wood as the professor walked around to the front of her desk. She was standing less than two feet away from you. “Look at me.” She said sternly. You obliged, lifting your chin up to meet her gaze. She stared down at you with a level of softness you hadn’t seen before. Her brows weren’t furrowed in disappointment, but relaxed in their natural arched position.

“Listen to me closely,” She said. “You do not need praise from me. You know why? Because you’re a good student and you know it. You don’t need it validated by me. Have confidence in your own intelligence and capabilities. A female as smart as you shouldn’t be reduced to tears just from me sending her out of class for zoning out.”

You sucked in a breath at her words. They were harsh, yes, but kind in their own way. You couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered at her compliment, which was redundant to her point but you let it slide. “Thanks.” You said quietly, fighting to keep the smile off your face.

“Which brings me back to why you’re here in the first place.” Dr. Archeron continued, crossing her arms. “You zoned out three times today. You’ve been doing that lately and I want to know why. Is my content boring or do I just make you that nervous?”

“Your content isn’t boring, ma’am.” You said quickly.

She smirked, which unsettled you. “So it’s the second one then?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it. You had no idea what to say – either you denied it, and then had to come up with a bullshit reason why you were zoning out; or you admit the humiliating reason why your attention was drifting off to fantasyland where you were bent over Dr. Archeron’s desk and letting her have her way with you. “No–” You began.

“I thought you were going to be a good girl and be honest with me.” 

Your thoughts came to a screeching halt as her words hit you. Good girl, the phrase that was your unfortunate weak point. It seemed your professor knew it too, the way her smirk deepened at your reaction. “That’s what I thought.” She said, pride seeping into her voice.

You wanted to drop dead right then and there. There was no way you were getting out of this – she KNEW about your crush on her. You could tell she had figured it out a while ago, and was cornering you now to confirm it. You began spewing apologies faster than your brain could comprehend. “I’m so sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean–”

“I wouldn’t want your…. nervousness, let’s call it,” Dr. Archeron hummed, emphasising the word ‘nervousness’ in a mocking way. “To get in the way of your learning. Looks like it’s my responsibility to get you to relax around me.”

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

She placed a finger to your lips, shushing you. “Stand up.” She ordered. You obliged, pushing the chair back and letting the cardigan fall off your arms as you stood up. The room suddenly felt much smaller as Dr. Archeron took a step towards you. Her face was inches from yours, and you could smell her sweet scent around you.

“Dr. Archeron…” You whispered, not sure what you were asking.

“Nesta.” She corrected, voice gentle. “In here, you can call me Nesta.”

“Nesta.” You said, experimenting with the sound of her name on your tongue. You had never even dreamed of calling her by her first name. In all your wildest fantasies, you had only addressed her as ‘ma’am’ or ‘professor’. Never this intimate.

She took another step closer, her lips now centimetres from yours. “If you do not want this, you may leave at any time and we will never speak of it again.” She said calmly. “I will not hold you to anything.”

“Please,” Was all your dry mouth was able to muster. Thankfully, Nesta understood what you needed, and pressed her lips to yours. 

They were the softest lips you had ever kissed, tasting like spiced red wine against your tongue as you melted into her mouth. Nesta grabbed your hands and placed them on her waist, allowing you to touch her. “Relax.” She muttered against your lips. You squeezed her hip gently, and she groaned into your mouth, pleased. 

Nesta reached up and cupped your jaw in her slender hands, deepening the kiss further. Gods, you had never been kissed like this before. The world spun around you as you eagerly opened your mouth up to her, letting her tongue explore wherever it wished. You whined when her lips eventually left yours, gasping for breath.

“Don’t pout.” She scolded, reaching down and grabbing the bottom of your tank top. “Lift up your arms.”

You did so, allowing her to pull the tank top over your head and discard it somewhere on the floor. You had opted to go braless today, leaving your breasts exposed to the warm air of the office. Wetness pooled between your legs as Nesta shamelessly drank in your topless figure, her grey eyes darkening.

“You’re going to be a good girl for me and let me take care of you.” She said huskily. “I want you to relax around me. It’s your reward for being my top student.”

You nodded, reaching to grab her waist again. You needed her closer. Nesta obliged, but walked you back until your legs hit the large green sofa, forcing you to sit down. Nesta followed suit, landing beside you and wasting no time in bringing her hands up to your breasts to squeeze as her lips attached themselves to your neck. You whimpered, arching up into her touch. Her hands were strong, kneading at the flesh of your breasts as she sucked marks on your neck that sent a tingle up your spine and heat between your legs.

“That’s it, pet.” She purred. “Let me hear those pretty noises.”

You bit your lip, worried about any lingering students or staff hearing the noises you so desperately wanted to make. Nesta sensed your hesitation and brought her mouth down to your nipple, giving it a harsh suck and causing you to cry out. “That’s more like it.” She said, satisfied. You gripped her shoulders as she worked her mouth on your breast, biting and sucking and kissing before she moved to the other one.

Without thinking, you bucked your hips in the air, yearning for some relief. Nesta released your right breast with a lewd popping noise. “Desperate already, are we?” She teased, trailing a finger down your stomach to the top of your leggings. “Normally I’d have you on your knees begging for it, since you didn’t listen to me several times today. But just this once, I’ll let it slide. You’ll learn my rules soon enough.”

You lifted your hips, granting her access to pull your leggings and panties off in one go. You were instantly naked on her couch, the slick between your legs visible. Nesta unabashedly stared down at your newly exposed pussy, licking her lips like a cat. “My, my, you’re soaked, pet. Is that all for me?” She cooed, running a finger lightly over your slit.

“Yes,” You gasped at her touch. “All for you.”

Seemingly pleased with your eager answer, Nesta kissed your lips once again, muffling your moans as she gathered your wetness on her fingers and rubbed your clit. Your body sang in response, her hand applying just enough pressure to take the edge off but not enough to push you towards the edge. You had a death grip on the couch cushion, toes curling as your fantasies unfolded before you. 

After rubbing your clit for a few minutes, Nesta harshly pushed you into the couch so you were laying down, head propped up on one and while your lower body was just at the edge. She kissed her way down your chest, then your stomach, then her lips hovered above your core. “Beg.” She demanded sternly.

“What?” You breathed heavily. “But you said–”

“I changed my mind. You make such pretty sounds. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”

“Please…” You whimpered, closing your eyes.

“Do better. And look at me while you beg.”

You opened your eyes and groaned at the sight of Nesta’s face less than an inch away from where you wanted it most. “Please, Nesta.” You begged. “Please touch me. Please eat my pussy, I’m begging. I need you, please.”

“Much better.” Nesta said before lowering her head and licking up your slit. You let out a deep moan, back arching into her touch. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around her body, pulling her closer and causing her to chuckle against you, which sent vibrations down your legs. Her golden brown hair was glowing in the light from all the different candles in the room, making her look like a goddess kneeling before you, a mere mortal in comparison. Nesta’s tongue was as skilled as it was sharp, flicking against your clit in a way that made your legs involuntarily twitch.

The room was filled with lewd slurping sounds and moans. In the back of your mind, you wondered if anyone could hear you. Surely, most staff were gone by now, having headed home for the weekend. Any remaining students would be in the other building studying for the last few hours. But you couldn’t deny that the possibility of someone hearing the noise from Nesta’s office excited you. You were a good student, never in a million years did you think that you’d be naked in a teacher’s office with your legs spread for them.

Two of Nesta’s fingers slipped inside of you, curling upwards and instantly finding that spot that made you see stars. Your hand reached down and grabbed her hair, fingers messing tangling in her perfect braid. You whimpered – her tongue and fingers felt so good, you weren’t sure how long you could hold off your climax. You wanted to stay in this moment forever, with Nesta between your legs and your head thrown back in pleasure on her couch. But that familiar tension began to build up in your stomach, and your breaths began shortening.

“That’s it, pet.” Nesta muttered against your clit, her hot breath on the bundle of nerves intensifying the pleasure. “Be a good girl for me and cum. Let yourself go.”

Minutes later, you felt your legs twitch as the coil in your abdomen finally snapped, sending your release barrelling through your body. You moaned out Nesta’s name, tightening your grip on her hair and bucking your hips into her face. The world spun around you, falling away as you got lost in your pleasure. Your clit began oversensitive beneath her mouth as she came down from your high, sending waves of fuzziness through your legs.

You panted heavily as Nesta finally pulled her lips and fingers from your cunt, opening your eyes and watching in awe as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked the remaining juices off. “You taste as sweet as you look.” She purred, planting a kiss on your lips before striding over to where your clothes had been discarded. All you could do was lay there, gathering your bearings and wondering if it was all just a dream.

With a tenderness you didn’t know she possessed, Nesta helped you get dressed. She gently pulled the leggings on, and eased your arm through the armholes of the tank top while you pulled it down. Once she finished draping your cardigan over your shoulders, she stopped back, her face smug. “I expect now you’ll be less nervous around me, won’t you?” She said coolly. 

You couldn’t help but smile sheepishly. “Yes, I think so.”

Nesta folded her arms. “Good, but don’t think this gives you a free pass for anything. I still expect the best from you, whether I praise you for it or not. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled wickedly, returning to her seat at her desk and picking up a pencil, continuing her work. Save for the now messy coronet hair, she looked exactly as she had when you first walked in. “Good. Now get out of my office.”

[paquerettexx]

edward hart — once more (one-shot)

he wishes to hear you call his name once more.

pairing: edward hart / reader

tags: angst, major character death

words: 1, 941

[cross-posted from ao3]

glossy eyes and a distracted expression. his dirty clothes were strewn across the floor and there were dishes piling up on his bedside table. edward could only focus his attention on the ceiling of his bedroom. rui does come by once in a while to clean up after him but that wasn't enough to keep it from becoming a mess again. edward wasn't this much of a slob; in fact, after centuries of living by himself, he'd watch his friends and loved once die off one by one, he had learned how to live by himself without anyone's interference. he's a proud vampire, the strongest one, the one no one could ever even think of harming. he was doing fine all on his own. he didn't need anyone– that was, and that has been always the case. everything stood true until he met you.

he once held your hand, bowing and leaning in to place a kiss on the back of your hand. he once held your hand flat against his chest– his heart wasn't beating, and he didn't even need to breathe but you told him that he still has a heart, you made his breath hitch in his throat even. indeed, though undead, he had used his heart to love you and only you. he once guided your hand to his shoulder and placed his hand on the curve of your waist. he once smiled at you and spun you around, hearing your mellifluous voice chuckle at his capricious actions. he once snapped his fingers and asked the piano anomaly for a music to slow dance to as he guided your head to the crook of his neck, basking in the candlelit silence of the haunted mansion's ballroom as you waltzed the night away in his embrace. he once plucked roses from the outdoor garden, painstakingly removed each other and offered it to you- the only one who made his still heart beat once again.

"oh? you're here." edward only notices rui once rui was already inside his room, picking up his discarded clothes and tossing them into a basket in his hands. "i'm going there." edward tells rui. rui, who always donned a smile and a carefree attitude, seemed to dim a bit, his expression darkening and his lips pursed into a thin line.

"hey... will you be okay?" rui asks, concerned about the captain. rui was reluctant, knowing that ed preferred to stay inside and never leave his bedroom, rui knew well enough from his observations alone that whenever ed visited that room, he came out worse than before. that room felt like something that constantly drained ed's vitality, the captain's eyes becoming more and more dull as he visited. that room felt like a calamity that dragged ed down for worse, yet the captain couldn't seem to let it go. ed was oddly overprotective of that room in particular, having sworn to secrecy that rui was never to speak of whatever was in that room; after all it was only the captain and vice-captain allowed.

"i'm going." edward stated firmly once again, standing up from his bed and weakly making it out into the hallway. it was a shame, he wasn't weak- he was never meant to be weak yet he crumbled even at the thought of you, of seeing you.

when edward's feet led him in front of that room, he took a deep breath, his hands coming to grasp the door handles yet he hesitated. how can he even show his face to you or be near you? would you even look at him in pity at his current state? would you spare him a glance? if only you were yourself, you would probably have a worried expression and scold him, telling him he should never let himself go. bracing himself for the pain, he held the door open and walked in.

he's a vampire– his heart is still and there's no warmth in him, by human standards he would be considered dead, a walking corpse. it was cruel, absolutely painfully heart wrenching cruel. the figure laying in the bed in front of him was also a corpse. a corpse resting on the line between life or death.

edward never really gave a damn about the rumors humans spew, a being of his status shouldn't regard baseless rumors but among the mountain of rumors, there's got to be one that's correct, right?

he's a murderer.

it had only been a few years since then. eyes brimming with excitement and anticipation, you held his hand and announced that darkwick has finally assigned you two a mission. you had done it, you were on par with edward to be sent on a mission alone with him! as lovers, the both of you were ecstatic yet the lingering fear and anxiety never went unnoticed. whatever, right? you're both powerful, what could go wrong?

yet in that moment, a mere moment of hesitation broke the glass castle you had built along with edward. a desperate call from your throat and edward's feet frozen in place. an anomalous monster took you right in front of his eyes. edward, though always seemingly composed and collected, saw red for the first time. he was sure it wasn't blood that blinded him but fury. seething rage devoured him in an instant. you were strong enough to fight and break free yet that wasn't where the problem laid. it was classified as a high ranking mission because of the effects the anomalous poison had on ghouls like you.

and did the poison consume you.

frankly, edward would've rather had you stricken with a poison that diminished your physical health. at least he can have sought after the most talented doctors in the world to treat you. at least that was something he can overcome. alas, it was something more, something that caused you so much pain mentally that it left you unable to do anything else. you neglected yourself, confined yourself to this room, and every time edward saw you, he watched the world collapsing from your very eyes. every time he embraced you after that incident, he felt you become colder than he was. his once overflowing love felt like a collection of percussive music bringing him down into a spiral and his anxiety accompanied the overbearing thuds like an uneasy rhythm of guitar strings being plucked.

"edward... will you grant me one last wish?" edward can still hear your pleading voice at the back of his mind, your sweet sweet voice asking for a sweet release from the prison the poison had entrapped you in. "can you give me rest, and wake me up when it's all over?"

he was willing to wait years, decades, and even centuries for you. he could even wait a millennia if you asked him to. he didn't care about the rumors that surrounded him, he didn't care that he was called a murderer behind his back, he didn't care that he was seen as a villain. this was his price to pay. this was all for him to bear, this was the rotten fruit his selfish greed bore. gone was his cunning and smug expression when darkwick finally called on him for the consequences of his action. after all, he did pull a few strings and deployed a little manipulation to orchestrate this joint mission between the two of you. the verdict was that he was to be banished to that haunted mansion, ostracized from everything and everyone. it was fine, right? at least he had you- you can live with him in that mansion for all eternity.

edward was filled with uncharacteristic time. wounds that can not be physically mended can be healed with time- it was something he heard humans say in passing. perhaps this was the same for you too. his unbridled hope felt like a fragile flower crushed to death in the face of reality when your eyes turned dull and cold towards him. no, no this was not the you edward offered his heart to. this wasn't the person he loved. you were becoming something else. the poison in your blood was turning you into an anomaly, the same anomaly that cursed you with its poison.

"edward..." he gritted his teeth when he heard your pleading voice once again, "i'm sure you know what's going on..."

"we can run away-" he started, yet you cut him off immediately, shutting down the sprout of hope and desperation brewing in his heart, "they'll find me and kill me. i'm becoming an anomaly, you know that." even when speaking of your foreboding death, he can still find traces of your kindness and of your warmth in your tone.

"edward, please forgive me, i'm being selfish." edward heard the waver in your voice that you tried so hard to conceal. "but when i die, i want it to be done by your hands."

the air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. edward didn't say anything, he had no words to say just like he had no tears left to cry out. he had no will or life in him to scream and shout in despair because deep inside, he knew it was the better course. he understood you, he knew you'd feel better lulled into eternal sleep than being brutally tossed aside and killed by darkwick for becoming the foe of the institution.

even then, he couldn't keep his promise to you. edward was the strongest vampire, yet he came crumbling down in front of you. he couldn't keep his promise to end your life in his hands, instead he let his selfishness overcome him once more.

"years feel like eternity as of late..." edward mumbles as he sits by your bed where your lithe figure lies almost lifeless. "will you wake up and make this still heart of mine beat once more?" edward continues, lamenting over you. he sits on the edge of your bed, his hand caressing your lifeless ones.

"i know i broke the last wish you had entrusted to me..." he sighs, tracing circles on the back of your hand. "but i just can't bring myself to let you go yet."

"after darkwick made the decision to put you in an indefinite sleep to stop the poison, i've been ordered to grant you your last wish and strangle your throat with these very hands." edward reminisces, speaking bitterly as he brought his hand up to your forehead and tried to soothe the pained expression in your face. "but i couldn't do it. i'm a fool who's still waiting for you to wake up when everything is all over just as you once wished."

"everyone thinks i murdered you..." edward murmurs, "how detestable of humans to spark those rumors. i could never hurt you, even if it was to release you from your agony. a coward like myself could only hide you and hope to protect you from the confines of my own prison." he continues.

"lately, i couldn't bear anyone calling me by my name. it reminds me of your voice." edward adds, his hand coming to comb through your hair, his eyes soft just like his voice. "i asked them to call me ed instead, i think i heard a human regard it as a nickname." he heaves another sigh thereafter.

"please wake up soon." edward muttered under his breath as he leaned in and placed a kiss on your forehead, "i'd like to hear my name fall from your lips again, that way i would feel this still heart beat once more for you.”

[axelsagewrites]

Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[thecreaturecodex]

Demon Lord, Orcus

Image © TSR Inc, by Todd Lockwood.

[Sponsored by @tar-baphon. Orcus is one of the iconic D&D villains, and through the SRD and plausible deniability (he's a Roman god!), he's in Pathfinder as well. In Pathfinder, he is deliberately not a power player, and my flavor text takes that already metatextual decision and runs hog wild with it.

A note on the art: I feel like Orcus is emblematic of when D&D was seen as dangerous, and this piece absolutely feels like it should be the cover of a Black Sabbath album. It's no surprise that I was fascinated with the anti-D&D strain of the Satanic Panic when I was a kid. Also, although there has been some course correction in the 5e era, there's a trend with Orcus in a lot of art, including his official Pathfinder depiction, of making Orcus buff. Let Orcus be fat!]

Demon Lord, Orcus CR 28 CE Outsider (extraplanar) This humanoid is a corpulent giant with skin mottled like a decaying corpse. He has great black bat-wings growing from his shoulders, hooves for feet, and the head of a goat. He clutches a short staff, tipped with an oversized human skull.

Orcus, Prince of Undeath CE male demon lord of death, necromancy and wrath Domains  Chaos, Death, Evil, Magic Subdomains Demon, Divine, Murder, Undead Favored Weapon heavy mace Unholy Symbol a goat’s head with curving horns Worshipers liches, necromancers, sapient undead Minions boneclaws, deathdrinkers, demons, other undead For information on his Obedience and boons for his worshipers, see Book of the Damned

Orcus is one of the most powerful demon lords in the Universe. But not on Golarion. On that world, his is one of a number of undead cults, and not nearly the most popular. Orcus has a clear hierarchy to what undead he considers truly worthy, with those created from contagion seen as inferior to accident, and those inferior to those who intentionally seek out undeath. His most dedicated worshippers on Golarion are liches, some of whom have learned the secret of crafting a phylactery by teasing apart the Prince of Undeath’s wisdom from his threats. The followers of many other undead-focused religions, particularly vampires and ghouls, see Orcus as pretentious and unworthy of dedication, although few are foolish enough to directly oppose him.

Orcus himself knows that his star has fallen. In his extensive research into planar lore, Orcus has learned that he was once the most feared being in another universe, who went on a killing spree that left several gods dead and an entire race of lawful outsiders duped into being his pawns. That Orcus cannot accomplish this level of power in this version of reality vexes and frustrates him, and he takes his rage out on his minions as much as he does his foes.

Orcus is a genius tactician, although his temper sometimes gets the better of him. He enjoys combat as a distraction from his cosmic-level sulk, and as a way of expressing his power over others. He typically opens combat with a time stop to summon allies and cast defensive spells on himself, and then unleashes a potent death effect as soon as the duration expires. Against creatures that can resist his negative energy and poison, he uses dispelling magic. On more than one occasion, Orcus has beaten a cocky archmage to a pulp by centering an antimagic field on himself and wading into combat.

Orcus in the Great Game Orcus’ response to the brewing theomachy between Mormo and Lamashtu is cautious optimism. He desires more power in the Abyss, and Lamashtu could open the door for him to seize it. Kabriri and Zura are at the top of Orcus’ hit list, but views a direct assault on them as currently too risky to be worth the effort. If one of them were to make a move against Lamashtu and be punished for it, or if they were struck down in the scramble for power following Lamashtu’s (theoretical) demotion or demise, Orcus would happily swoop in to finish them off.  And if Mormo is capable of legitimately slaying a god, Orcus will be very keen to study her techniques.

Wand of Orcus (major artifact) The Wand of Orcus is the Prince of Undeath’s scepter of office, and it never leaves his side. Lesser versions have appeared in the Material Plane, often created by Orcus or one of his high-level clerics. The real Wand of Orcus is a Huge +5 anarchic, unholy heavy mace. In the hands of a demon, it grants a +4 profane bonus to Armor Class. The first time the Wand of Orcus strikes a living creature in a round, that creature is subject to a slay living spell (DC 30). Weight 24 lbs.; CL 25th

Demon Lord, Orcus        CR 28 XP 4,915,200 CE Huge outsider (chaos, demon, evil, extraplanar) Init +11; Senses arcane sight, darkvision 120 ft., detect good, detect law, Perception +48, true seeing Aura frightful presence (120 ft., DC 36), undead obedience (120 ft., Will DC 36), unholy (DC 28)

Defense AC 47, touch 23, flat-footed 40(-2 size, +7 Dex, +4 deflection, +4 profane, +24 natural) hp 709(33d10+528); regeneration 30 (deific or mythic) Fort +31, Ref +29, Will +34 DR 20/cold iron, epic and good; Immune ability damage, ability drain, charm, compulsion, death effects, electricity, energy drain, petrification and poison; Resist acid 30, cold 30, fire 30; SR 39 Defensive Abilities Abyssal resurrection, freedom of movement, negative energy affinity

Offense Speed 40 ft., fly 60 ft. (average) Melee Wand of Orcus +51/+46/+41/+36 (3d6+20 plus 2d6 chaos and 2d6 evil/19-20), claw +44 (1d8+7), sting (2d4+7 plus poison), gore (2d6+7) or 2 claws +46 (1d8+15), sting +46 (2d4+15 plus poison), gore +46 (2d6+15) Space 15 ft.; Reach 15 ft. Special Attacks epic spellcasting, powerful charge (gore, 4d6+22) Spell-like Abilities CL 28th, concentration +38 (+42 casting defensively) Constant—arcane sight, detect good, detect law, freedom of movement, true seeing, unholy aura (DC 28, self only) At will—animate dead*, astral projection, blasphemy* (DC 27), circle of death* (DC 28), create undead, enervation*, greater dispel magic, greater teleport, plane shift* (DC 25), telekinesis* (DC 25), unholy blight* (DC 24) 3/day—control undead (DC 29), create greater undead, energy drain (DC 31), finger of death* (DC 29), quickened greater dispel magic, quickened harm*, summon demons or undead, symbol of death (DC 30) 1/day—power word kill*, time stop*, true resurrection, wail of the banshee (DC 31) * Orcus can use the mythic version of this spell-like ability in his domain Spells Prepared CL 20th, concentration +32 (+36 casting defensively) 9th—energy drain (DC 33), etherealness, mage’s disjunction* (D, DC 31), overwhelming presence (DC 31), soul bind (DC 33), wail of the banshee (DC 33) 8th —cloak of chaos (DC 30), fire storm* (DC 30), greater spell immunity, horrid wilting (DC 32), orb of the void* (DC 32), protection from spells (D), unholy aura (DC 30) 7th —control weather, destruction (DC 31), greater scrying (DC 29, x2), repulsion, spell turning (D), waves of exhaustion 6th —antilife shell, antimagic field (D), banshee blast (DC 30), blade barrier* (DC 28), geas/quest, harm* (DC 30), mass bull’s strength 5th —dispel good (DC 27), flame strike (DC 27), greater command (DC 27), mass ghostbane dirge (DC 27), righteous might, suffocation (D, DC 29), vampiric shadow shield 4th —contagion (DC 28), death ward (D), divine power (x2), rest eternal, sending (x2)*, tongues 3rd —bestow curse (x2, DC 27), prayer*, protection from energy, rage (D, DC 25), ray of exhaustion, vampiric touch*, water breathing 2nd —bear’s endurance (x2), death knell (D, DC 26), desecrate, owl’s wisdom (x2), resist energy, spiritual weapon* 1st —bane (DC 25), divine favor (x2), entropic shield, identify (D), ray of enfeeblement* (DC 25), sanctuary (DC 23), shield of faith* 0th—bleed (DC 24), detect magic, light, read magic *—Orcus may use the mythic version of this spell in his Abyssal domain

Statistics Str 40, Dex 25, Con 42, Int 30, Wis 35, Cha 31 Base Atk +33; CMB +50; CMD 71 Feats Combat Casting, Combat Reflexes, Craft Magic Arms and Armor, Craft Rod, Craft Wondrous Item, Flyby Attack, Greater Spell Focus (necromancy), Greater Spell Penetration, Improved Critical (heavy mace), Improved Initiative, Hover, Multiattack, Mythic Spell Lore (B), Power Attack, Quicken SLA (greater dispel magic, harm), Spell Focus (necromancy), Spell Penetration Skills Bluff +46, Craft (alchemy, weaponsmithing) +46, Fly +36, Intimidate +43, Knowledge (arcana, planes, religion) +46, Knowledge (dungeoneering, history) +43, Perception +48, Sense Motive +48, Spellcraft +46, Stealth +35, Survival +45, Use Magic Device +46 Languages Abyssal, Common, Draconic, Infernal, Necril, telepathy 300 ft. SQ demon lord traits, master of death

Ecology Environment any land or underground (Abyss) Organization unique Treasure triple standard (Wand of Orcus, other treasure)

Special Abilities Aura of Undead Obedience (Su) Any undead creature within 120 feet that attempts to make a hostile action against Orcus must succeed a DC 36 Will save or be unable to take that action, wasting it. The save DC is Charisma based. Epic Spellcasting (Ex) Orcus gains Mythic Spell Lore as a bonus feat. Once per day, he can use one of his spell-like abilities or spells as if it was a mythic spell without spending a use of mythic power. This allows him to use a mythic spell or spell-like ability outside of his Abyssal domain, but he cannot augment that spell or spell-like ability by spending additional uses of mythic power. Master of Death (Ex) Orcus applies his Spell Focus and Greater Spell Focus (necromancy) feats to his spell-like abilities. Death effects created by Orcus, including the Wand of Orcus in his hands, ignore immunity to death effects except for those granted by creature type, or from deific or mythic sources. Poison (Ex) Sting—injury; save Fort DC 42; duration 1/round for 4 rounds; damage 1d6 Str and 1d6 Con; cure 2 consecutive saves. A creature reduced to 0 Str by Orcus’ poison cannot breathe and begins to suffocate. The save DC is Constitution based. Spells Orcus can cast spells as a 20th level cleric, and can prepare necromancy spells from the sorcerer/wizard list as if they were cleric spells. He gets access to domain slots, and can fill them with spells from any of his domains or subdomains. He can also spontaneously cast inflict spells as an evil cleric can. Summon Demons and Undead (Sp) When Orcus summons demons, he can also summon undead creatures.

[ya-zz]

Hii! I love your work and I'm a recent follower, so I wanted to request something a little selfish for me! If it's okay, and if you're willing, could I have some headcannons with Ramattra, Genji and Lifeweaver with a deaf!reader? I'd love to hear your thoughts about how quick they would pick up on sign language, and maybe reader giving them a cute allias in sign language? Per example, instead of signing Genji ’s name letter by letter, I would simply sign "My Dragon". Again, this is an extremely specific request so if you choose to pass it on, it's completely okay! Much love to you 🌺

This was such a cute thing to write, selfish or not. I don't really see many fics or hc's out there about this sorta thing, so I am glad to write this! Hope this is what you were looking for! ♥

RAMATTRA

Ramattra never knew why you didn’t speak to him, only when someone mentioned that you couldn’t hear him did he realise the issue. 

It also explained why you never answered him. You didn’t even know he was talking.

He researched how to apologise so he could have some peace of mind. He wasn’t mad, but he did wish someone would’ve told him sooner.

He searched for any module possible to instantly talk to you. 

However, there was the issue of finding the right module. 

With the many variations of sign language, he had to find the one that matched yours. 

It took some time, but when he found the correct module, he was practically fluent in sign language, though he was still slow at talking. 

It warms his circuits the moment he first signed to you and you smiled with a sparkle in your eyes. 

His joints weren’t used to doing intricate hand signs, but over time, he got used to it. 

Day after day he would sit with you to learn how to sign efficiently. 

It was a learning curve to him, one he was grateful for as you were the one teaching him.

He was advancing in a way he had never imagined, especially with a human. 

One day while signing with him, having what seemed like a normal conversation, you had signed something he hadn’t seen before. 

It took his processors a moment to work it out and when he realised what you had signed, he chuckled, signing “thank you” towards you with a tilt of his head. 

“My omnic”.

GENJI

You had been responding to the ninja fairly well, but when you didn’t respond to his callout once, he wondered if you had ignored him. 

He approached you, a little cautious in case you were annoyed at him, but when he realised you were constantly looking at his lips, it clicked for him. 

Genji was close to you, figured you were just the quite kid, but being deaf was something he hadn’t thought about. 

He spent that night researching and practising sign language.

It was a slow process for the ninja; he was always too distracted, but he picked up words and phrases to impress you. 

Maybe a month went by before he finally managed to say a full sentence without any mistakes, but the fact that he was trying was enough for you. 

After awhile, Genji would try to learn more.

He would take online classes to make sure he was doing the correct hand movements; that he was making sense. 

Sometimes he would mess up, but that was okay.

The ninja spent his free time learning full sentences, eventually leading up to a full conversation with you.

It made you warm with happiness that he went through the effort to learn something new. 

Sign language was hard, and with Genji being constantly distracted, it only made it slower to learn and he was several months in to learning. 

Though, when you signed something to him that he had never learnt, he stumbled, thinking about it for the rest of the day before he researched what you had said. 

A genuine smile appears on his face when he learns what you called him. 

“My dragon.”

LIFEWEAVER

Niran had some knowledge of sign language prior to meeting you.

When he heard you were deaf, he was excited to speak to you, though his speech was limited. 

Seeing him interact with you was comforting, even if he did get embarrassed about his mistakes. 

He would spend most of his nights practising, relearning what he already knew and focussing on his weaker points.

Niran would always go to you for help, wanting to know if he’s signing right and what he needs to work on. 

It was like you were a tutor to him, one he felt comfortable around. 

When he wasn’t working on his biology and science, he would study some more.

There was always room for improvement. 

His mind was taken up by you, the want and need to impress you, no matter how many mistakes he made. It was all apart of the process.

Everything was going smoothly. His nightly studying was paying off and he was starting to fully understand conversation.

It only took a couple months for him to be fluent, the perks of being a fast learner but also sticking to a regime.

There was the odd occasion where he would mess up, but even you wouldn’t lie that you did it too.

He was fond of your presence, much like you were fond of his.

Niran was surprised when you signed a different name for him, one that made his cheeks flush the same pink colour.

“My lotus.”