#i gotta be strong for myself... this way i can help my loved ones

[vodika-vibes]

Hii, I wanna get in on the hurt/ comfort train while it’s here. Could you do one with your choice of “It wasn’t your fault/I’ve got you don’t cry/what did they do to you?” Thinking about how berserk most clones would go if some drunk/dick tried to spike your drink or grab you by the hair or slapped your ass or physically grabbed you and pulled you against them to kiss you or raised a hand to their girl in any way. Only if you’re comfortable with any of that!! But said drunk/dick is cooked because when one of the bros gets into a fight with a natborn they all gotta join in to make them regret ever being born, if their an alpha/spec ops/arc it won’t matter they were ever born because their about to die. Did I mention I’m paranoid yet always putting my foot in my mouth and getting myself into shit?

Time Stands Still

Summary: Colt doesn’t often get the chance to leave Kamino, so when he visits you, you like to make the most of it. But Colt is there to take care of you when a night out goes wrong.

Pairing: ARC Captain Colt x F!Reader

Word Count: 845

Warnings: Reader was drugged at a club

A/N: So, this could probably be better. But I'm tired and anxious, and this is all I have in me right now. Sorry, I hope you don't hate it. And if you do, please don't tell me because I'll probably cry.

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You wake up nauseous.

Horrifically nauseous. Bed enough that you immediately roll off your bed and stumble into the bathroom to empty your stomach.

It doesn’t do much to help your nausea, though. And in fact, now that you’re moving you notice how bad you feel.

It almost feels like a migraine. The nausea, the vomiting, the way that the lights hurt—only there’s no pain to go with it. Maybe you’re sick?

“Cyare?” Colt’s voice comes from the bedroom, there’s something that almost sounds like alarm in his voice, which is weird. Why would he be alarmed?

Ugh, and why is it so hard for you to think?

“Cyare?” Colt appears in the doorway to the bathroom, and the worry clears from his face, “Cyar’ika, why are you on the floor?” His dark eyes flicker around the room, and his gaze softens, “Did you get sick?”

You slowly nod, “Feel awful,” You admit, “Like a migraine without the pain.”

He kneels in front of you and gently pushes some hair off your face, and you tilt your head back to look up at his face. There’s a strange expression twisting his face. Like grief…and guilt.

His hand moves, and you notice that his knuckles are split. You gently catch his wrist and turn his hand so you can examine his hand, “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing, love. Just some split knuckles.”

“Let me find the first aid kit—” You shift to stand, but the nausea has you crumpling in on yourself again.

“Don’t worry about me, love. I’m fine.” His lips twist, and then, slowly, he brushes his fingers against your cheek, “Love, my beautiful, perfect cyare. What do you remember about last night?”

“Last night?”

You cast your memory back, to try and remember the night before. But it’s all blank. Well, sort of.

You remember going to the bar with Colt and meeting up with some friends, and some of his brothers. And that’s it.

You don’t remember.

Why don’t you remember?

What happened to you?

You don’t realize that you’re starting to hyperventilate until you feel Colt’s hands, warm and strong and steady, on your shoulders. “Cyare, you’re okay. You’re safe.”

You cast wide, panicked eyes up at your boyfriend, “What happened? Why can’t I remember?”

His hands slowly move to cup your cheeks, to smooth across the top of your head, and then drag down your spine. You feel the tension, and panic, draining from your body the longer he just touches you.

Colt’s dark eyes remain on your face, steady and unwavering, “You were drugged, love.”

“What?” The word leaves you with all of the breath in your lungs. But, you had been surrounded by friends, by people you trust, people who you know would look after you, who who have looked out for you before.

“Your friend, the twi’lek? The red one? He slipped drugs in your drink, and then tried to get you to leave with him.” Colt’s voice is as gentle as his touch, and yet his words make you want to cry.

Antian is your friend. You’ve known him since you were in diapers.

“I…I don’t…did he—?” You can’t finish your question, the words like lead on your tongue.

“He didn’t touch you.” Colt’s voice is so firm, that your gaze, which had been locked on his chest, snaps up to meet his. “As soon as I realized what happened, I got you away from him.”

You remember his split and bruised knuckles, and slowly you reach up to touch his jaw, “Is he…alive?”

Colt’s steady gaze doesn’t waver, “Does it matter?”

The answer is written plain as day on his face, and your lower lip wobbles, “I’m so sorry.” You whisper.

“No. It wasn’t your fault.” Colt’s steely gaze softens when he sees your distress, “He made a choice and he suffered the consequences.” His fingers lightly.

“But, if I hadn’t trusted him—”

“He was your friend. You’ve known him for years,” gently, Colt helps you off the floor, “Of course you trusted him. It’s not a bad thing, to trust the people around you.” He guides you back into the bedroom and helps you lay back in bed.

“Why do I feel so bad?”

“He gave you an overdose,” Colt explains quietly, as he kneels next to you, “I’m not going to lie, love. Today’s going to suck. But I’m going to take care of you. One my my brothers is on his way over with some medicine to make today a bit easier though.”

“...okay.” You take his hand and press it against your cheek, rubbing against it, “And you’re not mad at me?”

“Never.” Colt leans in and kisses your forehead, “Get some rest love, I’ll be in the next room. Try to drink some water?”

“I can do that.”

“Good girl,” He kisses your forehead one more time, “I love you.”

And, finally, the tiniest smile lifts the corners of your lips, “Love you too. Thank you. For saving me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for protecting you. It’s my job.”

@imabeautifulbutterfly

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[workinghandinhand]

"This is the only place where I don't see h i m..."

[dredshirtroberts]

hey. hey universe. hey fucker universe.

no one said you could bring back the Wednesday Curse, bitch. fuck off with this shit i didn't need any of this first thing today.

[dollgxtz]

I gotta know when you’re posting the Zayne CNC fic??? I’ve been checking your blog multiple times a day for it!

But realistically, no pressure 😂 I know writing is hard, and I can wait, lol. It’s worth the wait. I just want to show support for you and your craft. ❤️

Also, I love your yandere!Sylus fic! I’m only on chapter four and I see so many asks about it and I have to physically stop myself from spoiling it for myself, lmao. I’m so excited to read more! Your writing and your tics are a highlight of my day. 😊🥰

Edge Of Control

Word Count: 6.2k

Tags: zayne x fem!reader, cnc, cutting, tw slight blood, scalpel play, choking, biting, degradation, blowjob, degrading names, pet names like darling, pain play, home invasion roleplay, primal play, aftercare in the end

AN: Hi everyone! I know this was a LONG awaited fic but I wanted it to be absolutely perfect for my second husband ^0^. Also ty anon for the very sweet words! I hope this fic makes up for the amount of time you had to wait!!!

It was well past midnight, and the house felt eerily quiet without him. You lay on the couch, wearing nothing but a pair of Zayne’s boxers, the soft fabric a small comfort in his absence. A half-empty bottle of wine sat forgotten on the floor beside you, each sip doing little to calm the restless energy humming beneath your skin. The TV flickered, casting shadows across the room as you absentmindedly flicked through the channels, though nothing could hold your attention.

Your mind kept wandering back to Zayne, a dull ache settling in your chest. He was on another one of those grueling shifts—long hours with no word, no way to reach out to him. The pit of anxiety in your stomach tightened. You didn’t know exactly what his job as a surgeon demanded of him, but you could see it weighing on him more and more. His face had grown tired, the usual sparkle in his eyes dulled by exhaustion. You noticed the way his shoulders remained stiff, tension knotting in his body like a rope pulled too tight, barely holding it together.

Every time he came home like this, you saw it—the frustration simmering just beneath the surface. His body brimming with pent-up energy, adrenaline coursing through his veins with no way to let go. He was so tightly wound, like he was carrying the weight of a world you couldn’t fully understand. And every time you saw him like that, it broke something inside you. You wanted to help him. You wanted to be the one to take that edge off, to give him the release he so desperately needed but would never ask for.

You remembered the last time he came home with that storm in his eyes. Desperation had driven you to plead with him, to offer yourself as an outlet for all that tension, that frustration. You had begged him, your voice trembling, to let go, to take what he needed from you. But he refused. The worry in his eyes had cut deep, his voice firm but laced with guilt as he told you he didn’t want to hurt you.

That memory lingered now, thick in your chest. He was always so controlled, so careful. You knew he loved you, but there was a part of him that he kept locked away, too afraid to unleash it. But you wanted it—you craved it. You wanted him to feel safe enough to lose that control with you, to trust that you could handle it. That you wanted to handle it. But no matter how much you tried to reach him, he kept that wall up, afraid of what might happen if he let himself go.

You took another slow sip of wine, feeling the warmth of it spread through your chest, slightly loosening the anxious knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You always drank more when he was away—needed it, really. It dulled the sharp edges of worry that kept you up at night, made sleep feel a little less impossible. Without him beside you, the house felt too empty, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t control.

Your eyes drifted shut, and the thought crossed your mind again—he could hurt you, if he wanted to. God, he was strong enough. His hands, so skilled and sure in the operating room, could easily push you beyond your limits if he ever let himself go. He knew the human body better than anyone; he understood exactly where and how to apply pressure, how to control every reaction. And then there was the scalpel—his precision tool of choice. He was so adept with it, using it in ways you’d never imagined.

You remembered the first time he’d worked it into one of your nights together, after you had begged him to try something more daring, something that would leave you breathless. He had been hesitant at first, but the results... God, the results. The thrill of that sharp edge glinting in the dim light, the cold metal kissing your skin before it pressed just enough to break the surface. You shivered as the memory washed over you, your body tingling with the vivid recollection.

The pain had been brief, but it was the anticipation, the unspoken threat, that had driven you wild. You could still feel it—the delicate line of fire it had traced across your shoulder, a stinging reminder of his control. And then the blade had hovered at your throat, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, making your pulse race and your breath catch in your throat. In that moment, you had never felt more alive, more his.

Your hand had barely slipped down to your heat when the sharp trill of your phone cut through the quiet. Heart pounding, you snatched it up, the suddenness of it snapping you out of your haze.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice a little breathless, still tangled in the memory of him.

“Is that offer still on the table?” Zayne’s voice poured through the speaker, low and worn, with that familiar undercurrent of exhaustion. But there was something else this time—something darker. His words dripped with a kind of danger, smooth and sweet like black honey, making your stomach flip.

You swallowed hard, a spark igniting low in your belly. “Uh, depends which one,” you managed, trying to play it cool as you sat up, bringing the wine bottle to your lips for another sip. Your heart was racing, anticipation thrumming under your skin.

“The one where I use you.”

The words hit you like a jolt of electricity, sending a thrill straight to your core. The raw need in his voice was unmistakable, and it struck every nerve you had. You faltered for a moment, caught off guard by the intensity of your own reaction. You tried to cover the sudden loss of words with another drink, the wine sliding down your throat as you let the tension stretch between you.

One more sip—just one more for courage. Then, finally, you answered, your voice steadier than you felt.

“Yes.”

“Is the wine good, darling?”

The question hung in the air, and your heart skipped a beat. “What?” you murmured, glancing around the dark living room. The flicker of the TV had left your eyes hazy, still not fully adjusted to the shadows creeping through the room. How did he know you’d been drinking wine?

Your breath caught as an icy chill swept through the house, raising goosebumps on your skin. Instinctively, your gaze darted to the front door, and your stomach dropped. It was wide open, swaying slightly as a gust of wind pushed against it.

You hadn’t heard a thing. Not the lock turning, not the door creaking. Nothing.

How had he gotten in without you noticing?

You stared at the door, frozen in place, watching as it swung shut on its own, the soft click of the latch echoing through the quiet. A chill ran down your spine as the realization hit—you hadn’t heard him enter on purpose. He wanted you to know he’d slipped in unnoticed, that he’d been watching you this whole time. Your mind spun with the thought: How long had he been there?

The phone slipped from your grasp, and you barely registered the sharp whine of the line going dead, drowned out by the thundering pulse of your heartbeat in your ears.

The soft but deliberate sound of shoes against the ceramic floor snapped you back into focus. Your senses sharpened, instincts kicking in. He was coming closer—fast.

In the low, flickering light of the TV, you saw him emerge from the shadows. Long strides brought him swiftly across the room, his form cutting through the dim light with an air of purpose. His form caught the harsh glow—the broad shoulders of his body, the sharp angles of his face—only partially revealed, but enough to make your breath hitch.

Then, without warning, the TV blinked out, plunging the room into complete darkness. The sudden silence was deafening. The sound of his footsteps, which had been closing in on you, vanished as if he’d disappeared into the night itself.

But you knew better.

He was there, somewhere in the blackness, waiting for you to realize it. The tension in the air was thick, every hair on your body standing on end as you strained to hear the slightest movement, feel the faintest brush of his presence.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Suddenly, the TV blared a sharp noise from the movie, flooding the room with light for just a second. And there he was, Zayne, only a few feet away—moving like a shadow, so silently it made your skin crawl. His face was bathed in the cold glow, and the way the light played off his sharp features made him look almost predatory. His expression was intense, dark, and unreadable, as if he was walking a line between control and something much more dangerous.

Your brain screamed danger. Fight or flight surged through your veins, heart hammering against your ribcage as self-preservation took over. Without thinking, your hand tightened around the neck of the wine bottle, the glass cool and smooth in your grip. Before you could second-guess it, you raised it high above your head and hurled it straight at him, instinct driving your every move.

But then—he catches it. Effortlessly. The bottle freezes mid-air, his hand snapping up to grab it as if it were nothing more than a tossed pillow. He doesn’t flinch. His stride doesn’t break. His hazel green eyes, burning with that same dangerous intensity, never leave yours for even a second. The best defense you could muster didn’t even make him blink.

Calmly, as though the act hadn’t fazed him at all, he places the bottle on the side table, his gaze still locked on you. The silence between you feels deafening as he closes the distance, his steps slow but deliberate.

Panic shot through you like a wild animal, adrenaline making your limbs tremble. But something else flared right alongside it—something that sent a pulse of heat straight to your core. It was fear, raw and visceral, but it was tangled up with desire, twisted into something you couldn’t quite understand but craved all the same.

You held your breath, every muscle in your body coiled tight. The tension crackled in the dark, your senses heightened by the weight of his silent presence.

Like prey trapped in the gaze of a predator, you couldn’t move.

Couldn’t look away.

And you almost didn’t want to.

You whip around, adrenaline taking over, and try to run—but you barely make it a few steps before it’s too late. You don’t even hear him behind you. The silence is terrifying, disorienting. Then, out of nowhere, his hand clamps around your elbow, and a startled shriek escapes your lips, cut off as he uses your momentum against you, spinning you sharply into the wall.

Your back collides with it hard, knocking the breath from your lungs. A whimper slips out, unbidden, from the shock of the impact. Before you can recover, Zayne’s voice, low and commanding, hisses in your ear.

“Don’t fight it,” he growls, the words sharp like a promise. “You asked for this.”

Panic surges through your body, instinct screaming at you to get away. “Let go!” you cry out, fear pulsing hot and fast through your veins. But your voice is weak, barely masking the excitement that’s battling for control inside you.

He doesn’t. Instead, he’s on you again, his mouth descending on your neck with a hunger that makes your pulse quicken. One of his hands grips your jaw with rough precision, calloused fingers pressing into your skin, holding you in place. You try to twist away, but he holds you firm, his touch demanding, possessive.

His lips travel down your neck, finding your pulse point first, then moving lower, grazing the soft curve beneath your ear. The sensation sends a shiver down your spine, and despite the panic swirling in your chest, a desperate whimper escapes. Your body betrays you, your hips instinctively rocking toward him, already aching for his touch. The heat between your legs flares, want burning through the fear.

His tongue traces a line down your neck, the warmth of it lingering only for a moment before the cool air chills the wet skin. Then his teeth sink into the muscle above your collarbone, not hard enough to break the skin but enough to make you gasp in pain. You wince, your body tensing as the sharp sensation rolls through you.

Your hand flies up to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you try to push him off, your grip weak and trembling. But Zayne doesn't budge. His strength overwhelms you, his body pressing against yours with an intensity that leaves no room for escape. His breath is hot against your skin as he continues, relentless, leaving you caught between fear and an overpowering need that consumes you both.

"Zayne," you whimper. He releases his teeth from your neck with a chuckle that curls fear inside you…

His hands take your wrists, leading them above your head. You try to squirm out of his grasp. Partly because you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of pinning you. Partly out of the fear of what he could do if you can’t push him away, his entire aura shifted to something more angry and dangerous than usual. 

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he says into the angle of your jaw. He leaves soft kisses there while he effortlessly pins your arms above your head. He holds them there with one hand.

The other gropes and squeezes it’s way down your body. Your chest, your side, your waist. He grabs a hold of your hips, thumb perfectly lining up with the dune of your hipbone. He pulls your hips towards him harshly enough to draw a noise from your lips. He works his knee between your thighs, then pushes them open. He swallows any attempted protests with a kiss. His knee presses against your sensitive cunt and you whimper against his lips in response. 

“Oh, what happened to all the struggling?” Zayne mocks you, punctuating his words by squeezing your wrists hard enough to bruise. His hand comes up under your t-shirt and you shiver against the sensation of his fingers on your bare skin. You melt. Fucking putty in his hands.

You open your mouth to protest, to say anything that might break the tension or reclaim some of your control, but before the words can form, Zayne grinds his knee into your core. The pressure sends a jolt of raw pleasure through your body, and the only sound that escapes is a desperate, breathy whine. His reaction is immediate—he hums with satisfaction, his lips curving into a smug smile. He does it again, harder this time, and you can feel him reveling in the control, in the power he has over you.

Your mind scrambles to catch up with your body, which is already responding in ways you can’t hide. You try to meet his gaze, desperately wanting to say something sharp, something biting, anything to regain your footing. But the moment your eyes lock with his, whatever witty retort you had dies on your tongue.

His face is half-hidden in the darkness, but his eyes... there’s something in them that makes your heart stutter. Not just the hunger, not just the dominance—it’s deeper. There’s a flash of genuine anger simmering beneath the surface, something darker that you hadn’t expected, and it sends a ripple of unease through you. The intensity of it levels you, catching you off guard.

Suddenly, this feels like more than just a game. Warmth floods your chest, your body still responding to him in ways you can’t control, but a new sense of apprehension takes root. You’re playing with something dangerous, something unpredictable. The heat between you is no longer just desire—it’s the burn of real fire, and you’re not sure if you’re ready for the flames.

Your breath comes faster as you take in the sight of him. His chest rising and falling, his lips parted slightly, the way his muscles tense beneath his skin. You’re mesmerized, caught between the fear of what he might do next and the undeniable pull he has over you.

You take him in, eyes sweeping over the familiar lines of his body now that he’s standing in front of you. His white lab coat is gone, discarded somewhere behind him, leaving him in his crisp white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows as if he couldn’t be bothered to fully undress. His shirt is buttoned neatly up to the collar, accentuating his thick, muscular frame in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. The tie around his neck is still knotted, slightly loosened from a long day’s work, but there’s something disheveled about him now—something raw and untamed lurking beneath the polished exterior.

His dark slacks cling to his legs, perfectly tailored to his build, emphasizing his long leg now settled between your core. The soft fabric sways with his movements, while his polished shoes make almost no sound against the floor, their silence unsettling given the tension simmering between you.

His arms cage you in, closing off this small corner of the world to just the two of you. It feels like there’s nothing outside this moment, no one else but him—towering over you, his strength radiating off him in waves. The air between you feels thick, charged with tension and unspoken desire. Your gaze travels back to his face, meeting his intense eyes, and despite the weight of the moment, you can’t help but smile mischievously.

Without a second thought, you turn your head and sink your teeth into his arm, biting down just enough to feel the resistance of his skin, tasting the salty warmth of him. At the same time, you grind your hips down against him, pressing into the hardness beneath his slacks.

You expect him to react instantly, to snarl an insult or degrade you for your boldness. To throw out one of his usual threats—punishment, discipline—his voice dripping with disdain for your insolence, for the way you always push his boundaries. You brace yourself for it, for the sting of his words, the sharp crack of his tone that would send heat rushing through your body.

But it doesn’t come.

Instead, he goes completely still. The tension in his muscles shifts, tightening under your bite, but his silence unnerves you more than anything. You can feel it—the raw power coursing just beneath his skin, his body vibrating with restraint. His muscles flex under your teeth, taut with the effort of holding something back. You release your grip slightly, confused, nervous. But Zayne says nothing. He’s a coiled spring, quiet, calculating, like a predator biding its time.

Methodically, he moves, his hands sliding down your arms, his touch precise, controlled, like he’s performing surgery. Each motion deliberate, calculated. His fingers glide over your skin, and with each inch he covers, the nervousness inside you builds. His control feels absolute, every movement designed to unsettle, to leave you wondering what’s coming next.

Then his hands reach your head, enveloping it completely. His fingers curl around your skull, not rough but firm enough to make you feel small, trapped in his grip. His thumbs rest near your temples, steady, as if he’s taking his time to savor the way your breath catches. The weight of his touch presses down on you, making it impossible to move.

With one harsh movement, he’s pushed you down onto your knees. He undoes his belt and pulls himself free, his beautiful cock glistening with pre-cum. One hand presses hard into your jaw. Harder. His thumb pressing against the muscles there until you open your mouth for him. The head of his cock comes to rest against your lips.

The taste of salt and Zayne’s soap is too tempting to resist. He was usually such a giver, and when you went down on him, he always liked it slow. You lick up the length of his cock and he shivers in response. He drops his hands to your shoulders and you watch his forearms flex in pleasure. Your tongue swirls around his soft tip, and then you take him into your mouth soft and sweet.

Except... this time he doesn’t respond with shaking breaths and high pitched whimpers. Not even an utterance of your name. Insecurity flashes through you - you were sure this is how he usually liked it. Were you not doing well enough for him? You cast your eyes upwards for guidance, barely able to see him in the dark. 

“You really think that’s going to cut it?” His voice is cold and hard. Then his hands are on the back of your head, pushing you down onto his cock so fast and deep you almost gag. You pull away to drag a sharp breath into your lungs, abdomen muscles flexing.

 “You want to be fucked like a slut, you’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls you back down onto him.

Suppressing the urge to gag brings tears to your eyes, and it isn’t long until they’re falling down your cheek, mingling with the saliva making a mess of your mouth and chin. Wet, choking noises echo into the empty hall. When you start to slow, whimpering from the effort, he’s quick to pick up the slack. He thrusts his hips forward, pinning your head between him and the wall. You choke and gag around him, struggling to adjust around the brutal pace he sets, fucking your throat like you're nothing to him but a toy. Your hands come up to his hips, but he wrenches them away with a furious grunt. 

He pulls out suddenly, thick strands of saliva dripping off his cock. His breathing is hard and sweat rolls down the lines of his ab muscles. Your shoulders slump and you try to catch your breath. You’re absolutely spent. How humiliating that he didn’t even have to touch you to keep you wet for him, a vague sense of disgust emanating through your core.

“Was that good enough?” you weakly ask, but you might as well be begging him to fuck you for the look in your eyes. You don’t even bother to wipe the spit from your chin or the tears from your cheeks. You hope the sight gets under his skin so he can fuck you just as rough as he did your throat. 

“I don’t buy it,” he says. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion and frustration. 

“What?” 

“I just don’t buy that you want me to fuck you.” 

You’re about to ask what you can possibly do more to prove it when something hard presses against your warmth, pushing your soaked boxers against you. You look down do see Zayne presenting his shoe. Polished and tightly tied, the mere sight of them gave obvious impression of what he wanted from you. But why?

You look up at him, but all he does is look back at you, expectantly. Your can feel the heat creeping up your neck as you adjust to straddle his shoe. You keep hoping he’ll just end your suffering by mocking you for even considering it, but it never comes. The cold, hard leather against you sends a wave of electricity through your body. Your hips are moving on their own. Your body desperate for anything it can get, chasing it’s high no matter how humiliating. You turn your face away from him, unable to stand him looking at you like this. Grinding against his shoe... 

“There they are. My desperate little darling,” his voice has the first touch of warmth it’s had all night. It’s enough to spurn you on, the heat coiling in your abdomen. You pick up the pace against your will, your body chasing ecstasy like an uncaged animal. And Zayne just watches you, expression never changing, never reaching down to touch you. God, were you really going to cum on his shoe while he looked at you like that?

He kneeled down to one knee, doing his best not to disturb your work. His strong hands take hold of your hips and push you harder against his shoe, dragging your hips up and down. You moan, tears collecting in your eyes again. You can’t believe you’re enjoying this. Even - no, especially because it hurt. You were getting closer, your moans coming faster. 

“Beg for it,” Zayne orders. 

“Please let me cum, Zayne, please!” 

“Tsk. Not that,” he pulls his shoe away like he's disgusted and you whimper in protest. Then, as if you were light as a feather, he’s tossing you to the side. You catch yourself on your elbows and feel them scrape against the ceramic floor. Your hips grind against the air as they searched for any friction at all that would send you over the edge. They found nothing. 

“Silly girl.” He sounds bored as he stands to his full height above you.

You watch as his hand pulls a scalpel from his pocket. It captures his full attention, glinting in the light of the TV behind him. When he speaks, it's almost to the room.

“Isn’t this your favorite part? Where you try and fail to escape?” 

You don’t move. He flips the scalpel in the air, catching it by the tip of the blade, and then again to catch it by the handle. He admires it as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. 

“Start crawling,” he suggests. 

You push yourself onto tired, shaking limbs and try to get up. They give out on you. You pull yourself forward on your elbows instead. You hear the nearly silent creak of his shoes. The another. Then another. You feel small crawling beneath him, listening to the gentle whirl of the scalpel as he tosses it in the air. His shoes creak again, then again. 

You turned to look at him. You were almost overwhelmed at how he towered above you. His broad shoulders blocking out the light in the hallway. One hand busy toying with the scalpel, the other pulling his pants further down his hips. He was clearly taking his time.

“You ever wonder why you like to fight so much?” You watch shoe follow shoe in lazy strides until they were at either side of your ribcage, standing above you.

“Should I let you get away again?” he asks, but then he’s dropping to his knees, pinning you beneath him. Fear takes hold of your vocal chords and you make a desperate noise, pushing at his legs. “Will you just give in already?” 

With a calculated shift, Zayne turns your body to face him, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The tension between you crackles in the air, and before you can fully process what’s happening, his hand finds your neck, fingers wrapping around it with unyielding force. His palm presses against your throat, squeezing just enough to send a jolt of pain through you, sharp and undeniable.

"It takes about 10 seconds for pressure to the jugular to result in unconsciousness," Zayne says calmly, his voice low, almost clinical, as if reciting a fact from one of his textbooks. His grip tightens again, harder this time, and the sensation of control he wields is overwhelming.

The edges of your vision blur almost immediately, the world around you starting to fade. You feel lightheaded, like the ground is slipping away beneath your feet, your body caught in the thin space between pain and pleasure. But beneath the intoxicating sensations, panic begins to swell. The lightness in your head grows, and then you feel weightless, disconnected from reality as the darkness creeps in around your sight.

Your body starts to respond, instinct driving you toward the rising sense of panic. The pleasure and thrill that had mixed with the danger of it all suddenly feel too real, too much, as Zayne relentlessly pushes you to your limits.

You bring your hand up weakly, your fingers trembling, and tap his arm three times. The motion is small but deliberate, your safe signal.

For a brief, terrifying second, you wonder if he’s noticed.

He releases and you gasp for air. He lets you catch your breath, and for a minute you’re almost angry. But the growing wet between your legs betrays you to yourself, forcing you to admit you liked being pushed to the edge. An exhilarated smile picks up the corners of your mouth and Zayne, intently waiting for you to lead, just watches.

“More,” is all you need to say, and he’s on you again. Hand lighter on your throat, he brandishes the scalpel to catch your eye. It makes contact with your skin and you fight to control a shiver. 

It glides around your shoulder, then down your collar bone. The razor sharp point leaving a thin, red cut beneath the bone. You gasp, back arching into the sting. He withdraws. 

“If you keep squirming, I’m going to hurt you for real.” It’s as much a warning as it is a threat, and the dark rasp of his voice sends a chill down your spine. 

Then you go still again, he continues. The scalpel crosses your chest, taking it’s time tracing each and every one of your ribs. He draws a bead of blood there, before lifting the blade again. You moan, squeezing your thighs together to keep from moving your hips. The anticipation almost too much for you. But the movement catches his eye. He pockets the scalpel, and then he’s prying your thighs apart so hard you feel the ache in your hips. You try to shimmy away, but his hands hold your thighs fast against him. 

“I said hold still,” he grunts, squeezing his hands around the squish of your thighs hard enough that you make a noise. "What part of stop squirming do you not get?"

Your hand comes up to his hips, trying to hold them at a distance, but it doesn’t help. He pulls you closer to him and you feel his cock hard and leaking over your boxers. Fuck, you almost come undone all over again. Feeling him pressed against you like this... his cock easily reaching your belly button, reminding you how deep inside you he could be. 

“Zayne, please,” you whimper. 

“Please what?” He asks. You feel the cold blade against the tender, exposed part of your thigh. 

“Please fuck me.” 

He grunts, a noise that commits to nothing. He pulls the fabric of your boxers off your body and slips the scalpel beneath it. He cuts the thin fabric off of you in a show of strength and skill that intimidates you. 

He leans over you slowly, his hips pressed flush against yours, his cock pressed against where you want it most. A hand comes up to your face then, holding your jaw hard as he turns your face away from his. The scalpels beautiful surface approaches your cheek. Your breath picks up, fear coursing through you. He says nothing, and it makes it all the more terrifying. Your instincts freeze every muscle in your body. 

“You asked for this,” he reminds you, tracing the curve of your cheek. You bite your lip.

He pockets the scalpel once more, and you realize then that he's still entirely dressed, his pants only pulled down enough to fuck you. He shifts his hips, lining up with your needy hole. You’re already moaning for him.

“Begging me to use you like this, begging me to hurt you like this.” He pushes into you, your cunt struggling to adjust to his size. He only makes it a couple inches. He pulls out of you, then thrusts again, moaning as he does. This time when he pushes into you, he completely fills you. You both release an almost victorious sigh.

“Always fucking struggling. Can never just make it easy,” he growls, that angry look in his eye. His jaw flexes. Your cunt tenses around him.

He thrusts into you again, and again, so hard it feels like he could fuck you in half. He dips his face into your neck, moaning.

"You want me to force you onto my cock." His voice tightened with effort, but never lost that black-honey edge. "Can't say no to you. Do this because I love you."

You reach up and cling to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric. His words shouldn't thrill you, but they did. Your eyes flutter closed. Your body shook beneath him.

“This is messed up,” Zayne’s hips start to pick up their pace. You wrap your legs around him, encouraging him, pulling him deeper into you. You find yourself moaning his own words back at him; so messed up, so messed up. 

Fuck, he felt so good. The two of you dissolved into senseless babbling, saying whatever it took to push each other closer to the edge. A meaningless cloud of fuck and just like that and you begged for this until neither of you could form words at all. Your pace became erratic, moaning into each other’s necks, limbs tightening around each other as you both approached your highs.

“Fuck, fuck, m’so-” you barely manage, panting and moaning through your words. Your thighs tighten around him and he groans in response. 

And then you’re coming undone together. His hips driving his cock as deep as they can with the primal need to fuck his cum deeper inside you. You take it, greedily, breathlessly as your own climax rocks through your body like an earthquake. 

He rests his forehead against your chest while he pulls out of you, then collapses onto the cool ceramic floor of the hallway beside you. He turns you onto your side and buries his head against your back, forearms tight against your chest while he hugs you close to him. 

“I didn’t think,” you take a deep breath, trying not to pant through your sentence, “that when I asked you to use me after your work shifts, that it’d be like that.” 

“Bad?” He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 

“No, no,” you rush to recover the situation. You lace your fingers with his, “Of course not.” 

He says nothing. You turn to look at him, and there’s that distant, tired look on his face. 

“Are you okay...?” 

“I will tell you about it soon, darling” he says. You hum as acknowledgement, wishing you could say anything, but feeling like nothing was the right thing to say. Instead you just let him hold you for awhile. 

Zayne held you close, his body a solid, comforting weight against yours, his bodily warmth gradually soothing the whirlwind of sensation still buzzing under your skin. But then, you felt him shift. His fingers, cold and precise, began to ghost over the cuts he had made, tracing the delicate lines he’d etched into your skin with surgical precision. You shivered at his touch, a soft gasp escaping your lips.

His eyes softened, and in a voice barely louder than a whisper, he said, “I need to tend to these.” His words were gentle, but firm, a quiet reminder of the care he always took with you, even now.

He pressed a tender kiss to your temple, the warmth of it contrasting with the coolness of his fingers, and then he pulled away. You watched him button his pants, his movements deliberate but unhurried, before disappearing down the hall. Even through the exhaustion weighing you down, you heard the faint sound of him rummaging in the bathroom, retrieving what he needed.

When he returned, Zayne knelt beside you, his medical kit in hand. His usual calm, professional demeanor was still there, but this time it was softened with a tenderness only reserved for you. Gently, he began to disinfect the cuts, his touch as light as it was thorough. The sting of the antiseptic bit into your skin, making you wince, but his hand found yours, his thumb brushing reassuringly over your knuckles. It was a silent promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

With every stroke of the gauze, every carefully placed bandaid, Zayne’s focus never wavered. His gaze remained trained on you, on the cuts he was tending to, but there was something deeper in his expression—something protective, almost reverent, as though he was caring for a part of himself.

When he finally finished, he sat back slightly, his hand resting on your arm, his eyes searching yours as if to make sure you were truly okay. You could see the tension from earlier still lingering in the set of his jaw, the concern etched faintly into the lines of his face.

“I’m okay, I promise,” you murmured, your voice heavy with exhaustion, your body finally giving in to the weight of the night. Your limbs felt like lead, but your heart fluttered at the care he was taking with you, the gentleness of his hands now so different from the intensity you’d felt earlier.

“I’m just…so exhausted now” you sigh, briefly closing your eyes as another wave of tiredness washed through you.

Zayne’s expression softened into a small smile, one so full of adoration it made your chest tighten with affection. He stood, helping you up with careful hands, supporting your weight as he guided you to the couch. His arm stayed wrapped around you, keeping you close, steadying you as he laid you down gently, as though you were something fragile.

He settled in beside you, his body curling protectively around yours, pulling you against his chest. “We’ll clean up later,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your forehead in a soft kiss. The warmth of his breath and the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you, the scent of him comforting, grounding you.

You nestled deeper into him, the tension of the night melting away in his embrace. Wrapped in his arms, in the safety of his presence, your exhaustion finally caught up with you. Your eyelids fluttered closed, the world around you fading into the soft haze of sleep. And there, in the quiet of the night, you both drifted off together, tangled in each other, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the quiet rise and fall of his chest.

[syoddeye]

consequence

price x f!reader | 1069 words nice tags: loser x loser, john price having a sliver of game, but it works a/n: continuation of this shortie. played myself here. 💀

“orange?”

“green.”

“what?”

“sorry, are we not naming colors?”

he's simultaneously wounded and amused that she doesn’t even look up to lash him with her tongue. suppose his attempts are ten a penny—she gets chatted up every day; he’s seen it firsthand.

ever since he tracked her to the shop a little over three weeks ago, he’s become a regular. he goes out of his way to visit and watch her handle interested parties like a professional. from the vantage of his usual table, he pretends to read or scroll on his phone, listening in on how she rebuffs them. his own politeness is rewarded with a gradual drop in her guard.

see, from his observations, he’s deduced what other prospects lack: persistence. something he has in spades.

he moves down the counter with her. it’s always slower in the afternoon, affording the time to talk. her good-for-nothing coworker is on another break.

“your cast.” he gestures. “brand new?”

she fumbles the tamper and bites out a quick, “yep.” 

“no signatures.” her last one—bright blue—was nearly black with names and drawings just yesterday.

“got it this morning before i clocked in.”

“your boss still made you come in after that?”

“yeah, well, some of us have to work—shit.” she drops the tamper and portafilter, both thunking onto the rubber mat at her feet. grounds litter the counter and floor, and her eyelids twitch.

accident prone. unlucky. perhaps both.

john considers jumping the bar. a glance at the staff door says her coworker isn’t rushing to help, but he can’t push the line he’s drawn. in pencil. with a light hand.

after all, it wasn’t too long ago that she was jilted in love. she might as well wear a handle with care label.

she swears, fetches a hand broom and pan, then ducks.

“can i—?” he starts.

“absolutely not.” she snips, alternating tools in her good hand, piling the spilled grounds.

john lets a brief silence stretch, listening to the broom swish and other customers typing on laptops. he leans far enough to cast a shadow over her, and his mind wanders off.

“i didn’t mean to snap. or insinuate you’re, uh, underemployed.”

his focus splinters, his daydreams burst. god help a lech like him. sees a pretty girl on her knees and he’s fifteen years younger. christ. he distracts himself with the mess on the counter.

“takes more than a smart remark to hurt me.”

“yeah? well, watch out for scooters. that’s all it took to hurt me.” she smirks with eyes downcast, sweeping the pile into the pan.

if you’d just popped to the door, love. fessed up. i’d’ve taken care of you.

“mm, you’re resilient though. you got back up.”

she stands, shrugging. “like i said. had to. girl’s gotta eat. bills don’t pay themselves.”

“truer words.” john offers his share of collected grounds and a smile.

she murmurs thanks as she disposes of the coffee and moves to restart his drink until he raises a hand.

“give it a rest.”

“you paid for it.” she squints, disbelieving he’s passing on his coffee. her lips press together, and the small scar from the crash punctuates her uncertainty.

“i want somethin’ else.” his true intentions must bleed through his eyes because the corners of her mouth then pull down. he swiftly adds, “let me sign it.”

she nearly drops everything a second time. “you want to sign it. my cast?” 

“do you have somethin’ else i could sign?” 

her nostrils flare when she’s surprised. embarrassed? it’s cute. he wants to see it again.

“fine. here.” she dumps the pan, sets it aside, and hands him the marker she keeps clipped to her apron.  

he’s careful when he leans closer, concentrating, ignoring the ding of the bell above the cafe’s door. the warmth of her skin seeps through where he holds her arm steady. his chin dips, relishing the strong scent of espresso and how nice and still she’s standing. it’s impulsive, deciding to smudge the line he’d drawn.

she only notices as he writes the last digit next to ‘john’.

“are you—is that your phone number?” 

the bell rings again, and a cluster of voices follow.

“it is.” john confirms with a satisfied grin, glancing at his uniform scrawl. he caps her pen and slides it into the top pocket of her apron. time’s run out with the arrival of the mid-afternoon rush. clockwork. “good chat.” he winks, savors the finer details of her sweet, bewildered expression, and weaves around the small crowd of office workers in for a pick-me-up.

he’s pure confidence on the trip home, imagining what she’ll say when she calls or texts. how he’ll surprise her with his car on the first date. what? why’re you staring like that? how does it look familiar? he cracks himself up, thinking of how he’ll pry a confession out of her, then lean into it. what a coincidence. must be fate, visiting your shop.

his phone remains on the table as he goes about the rest of the day, half-heartedly doing what needs to be done while home. she works until seventeen-hundred, so he doesn’t expect immediacy. it doesn’t stop him from finding excuses to hover nearby or snatching up the device when it pings ten minutes after closing.

>> if this is a plot to get free drinks, i only get one a shift and it’s for me

> It’s a ploy to buy you a drink, if you’d like.

three dots appear and disappear rapidly.

>> i’m not drinking right now >> considering how i got the cast

> then what are your plans for tomorrow?

persistence.

>> supermarket

> Wonderful. Send your address. I’ll pick you up.

>> oh you’re one of those guys >> self invitation type >> you don’t need to come???

> Are you going to carry them yourself?

another round of dots. 

>> good point >> fine, be my muscle

> Gladly. 

she sends her address, which he promptly inputs into a search engine. decent area, expensive rent. clicks his tongue as he clicks through the photos from an old listing. hopefully, the pathetic-looking deadbolt’s been updated.

he suggests a time.

>> works for me

> Good. See you tomorrow. 

>> yeah yeah, night john x

his eyes hitch to the ‘x’, and his chest tightens. he exits the rental site and glances around his flat. yeah, she’ll fit in quite nicely.

[nanaslutt]

Hi ur work is fucking amazing I love u imagine gojo having to pull away readers head bc he doesn’t want to cum too fast :p

OH MY GOD????? nonnie this made me light headed ur brain is braining

i love YOU tysm for this<3

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀: fem reader, use of ‘baby’ and ‘princess’, size kink i couldn’t help myself, dirty talk as always, satoru is absolutely whipped, sweet!gojo, throat fucking, hair pulling, mentions of face sitting at the end :p

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

“you sure u wanna suck it pretty? i’m kinda big.” gojo caresses your the side of your face with a large palm, using his other to give himself slow strokes

you nuzzle your cheek into his palm, looking up at him through your lashes from your place on the floor

“yeah, wanna make you feel good toru, i can take it, promise” you pout up at him, reaching both of your hands up to replace his in stroking his cock

he twitches when you make contact with his flushed dick, your hands barely wrapping all the way around him, “don’t gotta tell me princess, i know you can take it.” he sits on the edge of the bed, one hand on your scalp, the other behind him stabilizing himself, “always take me in ur pretty pussy so well.” he pets your hair softly

you cant lie that looking at him up close like this, seeing the sheer size of his cock compared to your hands is a little intimidating, but you’re nothing if not determined

you lean forward, making eye contact with him now as you stick out your tongue and kitten lick the pre from his tip

he inhaled sharply, hissing on the exhale as you take his tip into your mouth and draw circles on it with your tongue

“mouth ‘s so fucking warm, godd,” he bites his lip, keeping eye contact with you as his grip on your hair tightens

pulling back from his tip you let a glob of spit on him, lubricating the rest of his cock with it while you go back to sucking on his tip,

“you wanna try taking it a little deeper? hmm?how’s that sound princess?” he asks you, feeling good with your current technique but growing a little antsy to feel how your throat constricts his cock

you pull back and nod, still stroking his dick “uh huh, want it” you answer

taking a few deep breaths to ease your nerves before taking him back into your mouth

squeezing your thighs together and letting out little moans around him as you struggle to fit his thick cock inside your mouth,

“yeaahhh, doin so fucking good, keep goin” he encourages you, his thighs twitching every time your moans send vibrations around him

your mouth hurts from the size of him but his reactions are keeping you going strong, bobbing your head back and forth going deeper and deeper every time,

gagging around him when he goes a little bit too deep, “‘s it ok if i help you princess? makin me feel so good but i wanna go a little deeper, that ok?”

“mmhmm,” you nod on his dick making his abs clench at the intense vibration, “you spoil me baby,” he smiles before standing up and taking gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail,

“tap my thigh if you can’t take it,” you barely have time to register his words before he thrusts his hips to the hilt, balls pressed against your chin and he hold you there for a couple beats,

“yeaaahhh this is what i wanted, god stop squeezin ur throat baby,” he laughs before using the strong hold he has to bob you back and forth, “gonna make me cum too soon”

you squeeze your thighs together, his rough treatment on your throat making you feel a lot better than you imagined

continuing to fuck your face, jaw dropping as he lets out profanities, “good- fucking- girl- yesyesyes- take it, fuck!!” he groans with a smile

staring down at you, spit strings and tears covering your face and he’s looking at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever seen, having to close his eyes because your pretty messy face combined with how good your sucking his cock is just too much for him to handle

gaining a little brainpower back you hum around him, simultaneously rotating your tongue in circles around his cock to the best of your ability, it might’ve worked a little too well as he abruptly yanked your head back, holding you back from him while he quicky grabs the base of his dick with his free hand and squeezes 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝

his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water as his breath stutters, short moans leaving him as he tries to concentrate on not embarrassing himself and cumming all over your face so soon

you look up at him after your small coughing fit, slightly confused why he pulled you away so harshly, worried you might’ve hurt him

“fffuuuck” he laughs as his eyes roll back into place from the back of his head and he smiles down at you, “holy fuck baby,” he takes a deep breath before easing his grip on his cock,

“where’d you learn how to suck dick this good huh? almost made me embarrass myself,” he lets you wrap your hands around his cock again, keeping his hold on your hair still, more just guiding you now, “felt that good?” you ask, leaving kisses on his pelvis while you stroked him

“so good baby, make me feel like a virgin.” you giggle, “but i want you to cum for me toru, that’s why i’m doin this,” you move from leaving kisses on his pelvis to kissing his the underside of his cock, all the way to his angry tip

“yeah? wanna give it another go then? already got me this close just by kissin it.” he bites his lip while giving you his signature cocky smirk

you don’t respond, opting to just take him into your mouth, using your hands and mouth together to bring him as much pleasure as possible

moaning around him, drawing circles on his tip, rotating and stroking your hands in time with your bobbing head, he repeatedly bites his lip and jerks forward,

“here is comes princess, you ready? gonna take it all in ur throat for me?” gunna swallow it all, right?” he’s babbling, his grip returning on your hair, wishing he would’ve sat back down as his thighs burn trying to keep himself upright

hips starting to meet your head halfway and you’re moaning, trying to talk around his cock wanting to tell him you’re gonna take it all, how you want him to fill you up, mark your throat as his and the coil snaps

hes hunching over you, gasps and whimpers of your name and little “baby, baby, oh my god”s falling from his lips as he fills your mouth with his cum

swallowing it all as quick as it comes and rubbing your thighs together hearing him sound so vulnerable

when he finally comes down from his high he’s panting so hard, he groans as he pulls his cock back, dripping with your spit and his thick cum away from your warm mouth, “you swallow it all baby?” and you stick out your tongue with a cute little “ahhhh” sound, smiling as you do so

“you’re too good to me princess, love you so much, did such a good job,” he’s caressing your face, spilling out praises, “now cmere n clean me up so i can have you ride my face n feel you squirt all over me.”

[burntb4bydoll]

I need so bad some Tokio Hotel member with a shy reader frrr, like she being shy and they being sweet, that's some hot shit.

Im actually pretty shy myself irl🤞dont be in my comments calling this cringe either, i think its so annoying when people shit on other people for wanting shy reader fics. it literally makes no sense to me because if you dont like it then dont read it🥰

Tokio Hotel with a shy s/o headcanons (slightly NSFW)

Bill kaulitz

•he can be a little shy himself, but for the most part hes pretty extroverted

•definitely makes sure that the attention is on him instead of you. He’ll make a fool out of himself if he needs to

•thinks its so damn cute when you get all shy and flustered when he compliments you. The shy smile on your face is his favorite thing in the world

•he will totally tease you about it too. The way you hide your face in his shirt makes him smirk so hard

• “aww its okay, sweetheart. No need to get all shy.” And he says that in the most teasing voice ever while stroking your hair

•loves when you can barely look him in the eyes, he thinks the way you get so nervous just because hes looking at you is very endearing

•makes you look into his eyes while he gives you head😇 if you look away, he slaps your thigh lightly and raises his eyebrow at you until you can hold eye contact with him

Tom Kaulitz

•omg hes such a little tease about it

•he always brings up when you get flustered or embarrassed

• “whats wrong, baby? You getting all shy on me?” LIKE STFU YES I AM

•hes a big attention grabber when you go out in public due to being famous and also being a attractive guy with good fashion sense, but he tries to distract you so that you dont get uncomfortable

•points out random things and just talks about random things to make you stop thinking about all the eyes on you

•will fight anyone who makes you feel bad about being shy. It’s completely normal and okay to be shy and he won’t let anyone tell you otherwise

•you get so embarrassed cuz you get all teary and needy when he fucks you. So he makes sure you know how good you’re doing ����

“It’s alright, you’re doing such a good job for me baby. My pretty little slut, hm?”

Georg Listing

•lord he is THRIVING

•strong believer that he would love a shy s/o

•he finds your bashfulness extremely refreshing and adorable. I think overly confident people would kinda annoy him so he likes that you’re humble and keep to yourself

•loves to give you random compliments just to see your eyes go wide and your hands come up to cover your face

•he pulls your hands away and tilts his head at you, trying to get you to look at him

“What’s wrong, babydoll? All I did was call you pretty. It that too much for you?”

• if you get too nervous to talk to workers or order your own food, he 100% does it for you

•he will make you use your words if you want something, because he knows how embarrassed you get and he thinks its so hot.

“Come on, you know you gotta use your words if you want something. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.” So you gotta tell him when you want him to fuck you or else he’ll pretend like he doesn’t know what you want cuz hes an asshole🙄

Gustav Schäfer

•tbh he doesn’t really know how to help you at the beginning of your relationship

•he sees you getting embarrassed and just awkwardly rubs your back😭 HES CONFUSED LEAVE HIM ALONE

•but once he gets more comfortable, he knows what to do to help you feel better

•likes when you hide in his side or hide your face in his arm, it makes him feel important😇

•doesn’t even ask if you want him to order your food for you, he does it on his own. He’ll ask you what you want before its time to order so that he doesn’t have to ask you mid order

•HATES when people laugh at you for being shy. A lot of jealous fans like to make fun of you but he always makes sure to tell them off. No one talks bad about his s/o, he doesn’t care if they’re “fans” or not.

•he’ll always make sure you’re comfortable during sex, he would hate if you felt like you couldn’t tell him what you do and dont want

“Is this okay? I know you get shy, but I need to know what you want, honey. You want my fingers? Thank you for telling me, such a good girl/boy/baby.”

[mustainegf]

Hi could you do something where black album era James and a fem reader go to a party but they grow needy so they go to the bathroom

I love this stuff and it was so fun to write, I also have a fic really similar to this one so I’ll link it here :)

The party bustled loudly, and despite the noise, my brain was buzzing with a tension of its own. My boyfriend James, stood across the room with a friend of his, paying me a flirty glance every so often, followed by him adjusting the bulge in his jeans.

Every time he tried to hide his horniness, the flutter between my thighs inscreased.

There was a silent understanding between us. I knew he was horny, and he knew just as well that I was too.

I could see it in his eyes-the way he was looking at me.

The lust. It was simmering right under the surface, waiting for an excuse to explode. And that was exactly what we both wanted.

I glanced at the handsome man, quirking my head to motion to the bathroom.

He gave me a wink, and then nodded. I smiled and sat up from the couch, quickly moving to the bathroom, swaying my hips to tease him.

I snuck into the washroom. James wasn't far behind me, glancing around to make sure nobody noticed before slipping into the small space with me.

He pushed the door shut with a little more force than necessary, making it clear he had been longing for this moment all night.

Ache flicked the lock, sealing us in here together.

"Jesus Christ, you look sexy," James muttered before crashing his lips onto mine.

My back hit the door as our kiss turned desperate, but neither one of us cared. We didn't care about anyone or anything except each other, and that made everything else feel so damn good.

James pulled away, breaking the kiss with a soft groan. "Fuck, I can't wait much longer." His hands trailed down my stomach, coming to rest on my ass.

It wasn't long before we were violently stripping each other down.

James grabbed me with abandon, Liston game and sitting me up on the small sink counter.

Our eyes met again, this time a silent promise passed between us. This is it. No turning back.

We both knew this. Our lips crashed against each other once more, tongues tangling together. One hand gripped my waist while the other trailed up my side, until it found my breast.

Then he kneaded it gently, squeezing it lightly. My breath caught in my throat as he toyed with my nipple with his thumb and index finger. His touch was rougher than usual, but that only spiked my desire for him.

I ran my nails down his chest, loving the scratch of his hair against my palms. As soon as I touched his cock, I felt him twitch. He moaned softly.

I loved how responsive he was to me. I couldn't help but take advantage of it.

I stroked him up and down, not caring that I was sitting up on a random small sink. All I cared about was how good this man made me feel.

"I can't take it, I need to be in you."

He looked like he was going to tear apart if I didn't let him inside me. I was so close myself. The urge to have him was too strong to ignore any longer.

"Then do something about it," I taunted.

"You want this, don't you?" he growled, pulling his cock out of my hand. I nodded. "Yes." He slid in slowly, filling me completely. I leaned back, enjoying the feeling of fullness.

"Jamie!" I yelled, grabbing his shoulders. James was quick to press a finger to my lips. "Gotta be quiet, can you do that for me?"

I nodded. "Yes." He pounded into me hard and fast, making my legs tremble. The hard smack of our bodies filled the tiny space, but it did nothing to cover the moans and grunts we both let loose.

"Tell me how much you love it, use your words, I wanna hear that pretty voice," he demanded, the room filling with wet and obscene sounds.

I could hardly force out any sort of sentence. "L-love it." I huffed. "Come on, you can do better than that."

James sucked a breath through his teeth as J tightened around him. "Let me hear you." He demanded again.

"I love it... Jamie... I love it." He slammed into me harder and faster, using the counter and my hips to hold himself up.

I screamed, holding on for dear life. In response, he pressed his lips to mine and started humming, moving his body in tune with the sound. I was drowning in sensations, so many of them, Ilost control.

I clawed at his arms, trying desperately to get closer to him. He moved his lips from mine and whispered, "That's it, babyy."

He continued to whisper filthy things in my ear, telling me how good I was, how I felt so damn good wrapped around him. The wet sounds of sex echoed through the small space, creating a cacophony of noises.

I could barely think straight. The haze of pleasure was growing stronger by the second.

"Cum for me baby, I'm so close.." James groaned in my ear.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him close as he pumped a few more times Until we were both writhing with our climax. I felt him shoot his cum deep into me, painting my insides.

We sat in silence for a minute or two, just breathing. Ilaughed softly, kissing James' cheek.

"Fuck, I can't believe we did that.."

[love-hatred-stuff]

》 hey, hi~ here's a draft that I wrote instead of continuing other fics that I wanted to write, lmao I hate myself :')

》 Eddie Brock(Venom) x (f)Reader

⚠ a little warning; age gap (10y), daddy issues here we goooo, just a tiny bit spice and some sprinkle de dinkle ★angst★

♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤♠︎♤

Eddie hadn't had sex in what felt like centuries. Actually just one or two years but who's counting when all he can do is use his hand and Venom mostly doesn't even let him finish. That monster doesn't give shit about it, he claims that Eddie wouldn't need it. He needs food and water but not a jerk off.

Well if he knew why he'd been going on it so much lately, maybe Venom would let him, but he's not ready to give that up yet. It's probably the only thing about Eddie, Venom hasn't completely figured out yet.

It was you. You were the reason he was slowly but surely losing the mind he shared with the compatible slimy alien inside of him.

•••

"Eddie thanks for checking, but I can manage." You told him on the other line of the phone.

Eddie just wanted to help you pack and carry your things since you were moving to another apartment. You've been able to get promoted again and now you were at the very top of the not even so small company you've been working at for about five years now. You could say you were pretty good at your job.

"I habe plenty of strong people here, helping me out. I don't even have to carry anything, I just decide were the furniture and boxes are getting placed. You don't need to worry, darling."

Eddie had a smirk dancing on his lips. You knew he could do everything they were doing, at least twice as fast.

"I should come over later then. I'll bring dinner." He suggested.

"Great idea. But don't let Venom choose take out again, please Eddie." Ugh the way you were saying his name made his brain go blank and suddenly Venom was hyperaware of what was going on.

"Promise. See ya." He immediately ended the call, leaving you a little confused. Ed could sense what Venom felt, just beneath the surface.

"Holy Shit!!!" Venom growled.

"You kidding me? She's the reason you've been going to the gym and eating healthy now? Why you've been completely desperate to stroke your dumbass dick?" Then he laughed. Finding it hilarious that Eddie was in love again. After his last woman, Anne, he'd been taking a while to open up again. Actually he didn't talk to any other woman besides you.

The thing was just, that you were ten years younger than him and he'd practically seen you grow up. Of course he never saw you the way he does now, back then. But it was quite bad how hard he had fallen for you in the last few months.

"I KNOW! She's too young for me. I'll keep my distance, okay? It wasn’t my intention to develop feelings." He tried defending himself.

"As if I cared, you nasty human. Get you dick wet if that's what you need." The symbiot snarled.

Eddie was surprised, to say the least.

"You're not gonna disturb us?" He asked in suspicion.

"Thought you wanted to keep your distance? Not anymore? Kidding. Do what you gotta do. Since you're my host I gotta let you have at least one thing."

"That'd be great." He smiled to himself.

"Now get your ass up at get her something nice, if you wanna get inside her pants."

"I don't wanna get inside her pants! Well- maybe a little, but I care about her more than that."

Eddie sensed, by Venom's silence, that he doesn't wanna get involved in his love life any further. Although he couldn't blame Eddie, you were gorgeous little human. A young one at that.

So he showered and grabbed his keys, so he could get dinner and some flowers. He was a little nervous buying these, because he knew that would be the first romantic move he's ever made on you. You probably only saw him as like an uncle or something, nothing more. Knowing his luck, he didn't even expect you to like him back.

He would know soon.

•••

Well, but who knew, he's gonna find himself underneath you instead?

Eddie was sitting on the couch, the only thing that wasn't completely packed with stuff and boxes. You were straddling him, taking his breath away with the way you moved your skilled tounge against his. He was a little hesitant though, barely touching your hips with his hands because he didn't know were to put them. He wanted so badly to grip your sides tight and push you closer against his crotch.

But he was unsure. Even though you clearly gave him all the signs that you wanted this, he felt like he was using you. Venom's earlier words spiralling in his mind; '-if you wanna get inside her pants.' No! He didn't! He wanted so much more than that. So it felt wrong to just jump you the moment you said you liked him back- well you didn't really say anything, you just smiled to yourself as you accepted his flowers and began to stalk towards him, until this moment, where you plastered him with marks and kisses.

Despite all those doubts, he felt heavenly, holding most of his sounds back, almost impossible. You were a woman with so many strengths, kissing and grinding being apparently one of them. Glad, he found out.

He only realised seconds later that you'd stopped and were looking straight at him.

"What's wrong?" Your worried look scratched at his heart instantly.

"Nothing." He lied.

He was a good liar. But you weren't buying it, you knew him well enough.

"You don't want this? You should've said so, Brock."

Ugh, another pang shooting through him stronger than he'd expected. The usage of his last name? Nah. You only did that when you were seconds away from switching your emotions. You were gonna tell him to piss off and stay away from you, until you forgave him, unless he would tell you the truth right f*cking now. He knew because he'd disappointed you once before. That was a complete different scenario, and now you felt personally attacked. He could feel it, even Venom could.

"No! I really really want this! Or else I wouldn't have told you what I did earlier. It's just, that it feels wrong touching you, with my hands."

Oh. No.

He just made it worse, didn't he? Judging by the way your face went blank, his speech definitely went sideways.

"Get lost." You were pointing to your door with your finger, giving him a stern look.

He felt like a little scared kid again, being scolded by his mom. Only ten times worse.

"What? No! I'm saying this because I'm so much older than you, y/n! I swear on my mother and the symbiot living inside of me that I've been craving you for the longest time now. I love you, god damn it! But I shouldn't and I know that, alright? But I can't help it. I'm sorry if I send you the wrong signals. I'm just worried that people will take you away from me, because of that." Eddie stood up and slowly walked towards you, trying to not make you even more uncomfortable than he already had.

You looked a little more relaxed now though.

"So you denied me because you feel a little perverted? God, Eddie you're not a grandpa and I'm a grown woman with a good life ahead of her. Do you think I would throw that away for a forbidden romance? You and I are perfectly okay to be with each other. Nothing's gonna happen, it's only ten years, Brock." Eddie flinched again at the end. Seemed like he had to soothe you a little more.

"Could you please stop addressing me with my last name, it scares me a little. I get it now. I'm sorry for worrying so much, sweetness." Eddie gently touched your cheek, caressing it and putting a strand of hair behind you ear.

"You have a lot of making up to do, you grandpa." You glanced up at him, allowing a tiny smile to dance on your cherry lips.

-----

To be continued...?

Love, love, love

~ love-hatred-stuff ♡

[interstellarspacecadett]

DIVORCING

WARNING!

Do not read if you're not 18+ years old.

Sex and strong language

Controlling male protagonist

English is not my first language. I'm so sorry if there are some grammar mistakes.

I finally did it, I filed for divorce. My husband, Bruce Wayne and I have been on different paths for quite a long time.

It wasn't an easy decision since we adopted Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. Our sons meant the world to us, or at least to me. He wasn't around the majority of the time, I took care of my sons, and he was nowhere to be found. Always so busy, always so distracted and thinking about something else. We lacked intimacy. When he was around, he was cold and full of rage. No one could talk to Bruce if Bruce himself didn't talk to that person first.

I had enough, I had to step out of our marriage, I wanted to start again, but not with Bruce. It was the right decision, I needed attention, I needed love, not someone who made me doubt myself, someone who was a ghost, someone who didn't care at all about anything. I used to spend a lot of time after our kids, and I stopped taking care of myself. It showed, I always had a tired face, lacked energy, and I was distracted worrying about my husband. I gave too much to someone who didn't deserve even half of it.

My new apartment was in uptown Gotham, and it was spacious with many modern features. I felt alone the majority of the time, but it had to be this way, I needed to be alone for some time.

After I filed for divorce, I didn't expect Bruce's reaction. He called me, it was the first time in moths that we had a good conversation.

"Honey, come back home" He said with a low tone of voice.

I started to cry, I started to tremble reviving my experience in that place I stopped calling home.

"You know what you put me though. You do. You stopped loving me, I was alone taking care of the kids. The only help I had was Alfred. You don't even know that I used to cry myself to sleep because of you. " Tears started to roll down my face. It was painful and atrocious suffering like that for someone with always an excuse.

"The kids miss you, Alfred and the dogs too. I miss you"

Same warm tone, sweet words to lure me back in that snare of marriage.

"Why weren't you there for me? All this time, I suffered. Bruce, I deserve to be happy. "

I couldn't stop my tears, I was crying so desperately.

"You do. With me, the kids and Alfred."

"Not with you. Not anymore."

"Baby. We're not gonna have a divorce, think about Damian. Uh?. How is he gonna take it? Living in two different homes, his parents divorced... We can not make him go through all of this."

Same tone. Same warm voice. All calculated.

"He talks to me about you all the time. And he asks me when you're gonna come back to us. He calls his mommy at night. He looks out for you. He sleeps a lot in our bedroom, and he says it still has your scent. Think about Jason, you're the only woman he ever accepted in his life. He's angry now. He says it's time for us to get back together. Tim, he never comes out of his room, and when he does, it's because he hopes you're back. And how could we forget about Dick. He's devoured with anger towards me. Honey, you do understand that all I do is to protect you and the boys, to make you all be alright when one day I won't be here anymore? One day, I might not be back home. But I want you and the boys to never worry about anything. You're all I have and care about."

Bruce sounded so sincere, and it was the thing that made me melt. The kids. I missed them, I did more than anything.

But he would be back to his old ways, disappearing, not making love to me, not being there for the kids.

"Bruce, I gotta go, now."

"I'm gonna call you tomorrow at the same time." He sounded like he was ending a business meeting, I've heard that cold tone before.

"I don't know. I don't think it's a good idea." I said, looking out of the window, hoping to see him in his costume watching over me. He later confessed to me that he always watched me from the dark.

"I wasn't asking. Sleep tight, beautyful."

"Good night, Bruce."

He called me the following day at the same time.

We talked about the kids. He then planned to move out of the manor to a more tranquil place with the kids. I smiled for the first time in a while. He made me think it was still possible to be together again.

After our call, he wished me good night and promised to call the following day. My lawyer advised me to stop interacting with Bruce, to stop all the calling, and sweet nothings on the phone. All of that needed to stop before going to court.

He called me at the same time, but I never answered following my lawyer's advice. Other two months passed, and nothing had changed. I visited the kids when Bruce wasn't home. He was right they weren't happy about all the divorce thing, especially Damian, who I saw crying for the first time.

A week passed, and after talking to my lawyer, I headed back to my apartment. It was cold and lonely as always.

I had one voice message to listen to. Bruce never sent me one before. He preferred calling me and talking on the phone.

But, he surprised me.

"Honey, we should talk in person. We can find an arrangement, no lawyers, just you and me. Wayne Manor, Saturday, December the 21st, 8 o'clock. Goodnight, sweetheart. Looking forward to our meeting. "

The first thing I did was to call my lawyer and fix an appointment for the following morning so we could discuss the new matter.

"He sounds sincere." My lawyer said after I made him listen to the message Bruce sent me.

"He does. When he wants to." I remarked.

"You should go. If we proceed with this divorce, be ready for the media, your kids under more unwanted attention, and not to talk about the shitstorm. I'll give you the papers with the reasons why you filed for divorce and all the other stuff. "

At 5 o'clock that Saturday, I started to prepare myself, emotionally and physically. Bruce was unpredictable.

I dressed formal, white shirt, long black skirt and high heels. He sent me a driver, his old ways. The driver and I stayed in silence for all the time we took to get to Wayne Manor.

Before knocking at the immense door, I took a deep breath.

The doors opened just in time for me to see Bruce getting down the stairs.

He was so elegant, formal, and handsome he didn't look nothing like the last time we saw each other. He was taking care of himself. He seemed warm and not cold as an ice cube.

He greeted me with a warm hug without saying anything. There was nothing to say.

I was about to get used to that warm ambrace, but he pulled away and guided me to the conference room.

He pulled the seat for me, and he seated next to me at the table top.

"Come closer, honey. I gotta see these papers of yours."

He pulled my chair closer to him to the point where I could feel his warm breath on my cheek.

"You look so beautiful, baby, and you smell so good. You know this is my favourite perfume? So sweet." He smiled.

My heart started to beat faster, and all that praising made my legs crush one against the other unintentionally.

"You always have been the most beautiful woman in the room. The smartest. The funniest. The most breathtaking. " He kept praising me. He smiled mischievously, knowing what those compliments did to me.

Fuck, I wanted more.

It had been such a long time of abstinence that I was starving with kisses and sex.

He didn't touch me, yet, but he knew it was all it needed to break me.

"So pretty. This high bun siuts you perfectly. It lets glow the skin on your neck."

He finally did it. He touched me with his big, warm calloused hand. I bit my lower lip, trying to keep it all together. He massaged one of my shoulders and my neck admiring every expression of mine. I put my hand on his without even knowing, and I started to carress it.

"Bruce, please." I begged him to let go of me. To free me from his control, it was so sweet and painful at the same time. He placed one kiss on my hand and one on my neck. I was about to lose it.

"The papers." I remembered him, trying to free myself from his touch.

He stopped every movement, he composed himself, and asked me to read for him.

I came down from my high and started to read the summary.

"Getting to this point of my relationship with my husband, Bruce Wayne, was never my intention. [...]But it was forced to me since during these last months I have been neglected, starved with affection.[...] This behaviour doesn't apply only on me, but on my kids as well. [...]I can no longer live and be in a relationship that doesn't represent the words love, family, and unity for the previously mentioned reasons[...]"

As I was reading, he kept his eyes on me, and I swear I felt completely naked burning under his sight. He pressed a kiss on my cheek and formed a trail of soft kisses to the corner of my mouth.

He kissed my lips and stopped me before arriving to read to half of the second sheet. I waited for so long. His lips were soft and hungry for mine. We kissed slowly, taking our time, making out like two teenagers in love. He was so gentle embracing me like the most precious of jewels. A moan escaped my mouth, making him kiss me deeply and vulgarly. I loved every second of it. He had never tasted that sweet, so perfect. As we pulled away, he murmured to me:

"You know that we're not getting this divorce, right?" Just to then start kissing me again.

We ended up standing up, kissing and hugging each other like nothing ever changed.

He then proceeded to kiss my neck, devouring it up. His hands trailed down to my ass, caressing it and squeezing it tight in his hands. I moaned, letting myself go to the pleasure.

"Bruce"

"Feels good, doesn't it, baby?" His voice echoed in my head. All I could think about was just him and the pleasure he was intoxicating me with.

"So good." I moaned.

I forgot about everything.

"That lawyer of yours, I don't like him. He looks at you like a beast in heat. "

He went behind my back, putting his clothed erection against my butt, to let me know what I did to him. He was so big, so hard, and so ready for me. I got wetter and hornier just at the thought of it.

He kept licking and biting my neck, letting me get higher and higher.

He unbuttoned my shirt, freeing my breast just to then undo my bra and let it fall to the ground on top of my shirt.

He pinched my nipples while thrusting his erection against my ass.

"You're my wife. My property, all mine. Mine and only mine." He kept going on teasing me, provoking me and making me melt under his touch.

"Yours." I was out of my mind. The power he had on me was getting stronger second by second, minute by minute.

"There is no divorcing. I don't wanna ear none of that. Did I make myself clear,baby?" I melted more.

"Yes. Oh, Bruce."

In one move, he freed me from my skirt, letting it fall down to the ground with the rest of my clothes.

He soon had one hand on my brest and one between my legs caressing my clit, making me feel good.

"This fucking cunt. So fucking wet for me, uh? Gonna make you feel so good, baby, so fucking good" With that promise, my hopes went high as my mind.

"Moan for me like that. Making my dick so fucking hard, uh?"

"I'm gonna fuck you really good. I'm gonna make you cum on this useless papers. So fucking mine." He continued teasing me.

He put one finger in me, and it was enough to make me moan louder and cum. I had no chance of winning against him.

He then made me sit on the big mahogany table. He spread my legs, exposing my wet, pulsing cunt. He took a good look at it, then at me. He buried his face between my legs, kissing, licking, and eating me out. I was lost in pleasure. Meanwhile, he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his toned body.

He was like a god.

He started to play and enjoy himself by butting two fingers in me and licking my clit like a starved man.

"So good. Oh my god, just like that." I moaned, enjoying myself.

He moved his free hand to my breast, caressing one at the time, to later intertwine his hand with mine.

"My baby. Looking so good like this, legs wide open on my expensive table. Uh?" I came with those words, and as he predicted, I soaked all the papers.

I tried to catch my breath, but he didn't give me time. His mouth was already on mine.

We kissed again and again.

"I'm so in love with you." He said lowly on my ear.

I smiled. It all seemed like a dream, a happy one. A utopia.

"I mean it." He said, looking at me in the eyes.

It was true. All of it. Bruce never lied.

"Now I know." I said before kissing him.

"Now let's get to the real deal. I still haven't cum. And I know a good place where I can stick it in"

"I don't know where." I said provoking him while leaning back on the table. My back met the cold surface.

I lifted my legs to Bruce's torso.

He removed my heels, kissing my feet.

He was so dirty and perverted. And I loved it.

He was looking at me straight in the eyes. Those blue obs darkened as he submissed me even more.

"You taste so fucking sweet." He said, liking the base of one of my feet.

I got wetter, hornier, and hungrier for more. I needed more.

He slowly put his zip down, freeing his cock with his pants still on and buckled.

He pulled me closer to the edge of the table by my tights. Not long after, he was inside of me, slowly exploring me like it was the first time. I was so full of his flesh. It was so big and hard that I could feel every vein on his surface. He then opened my legs, getting closer to me, just to whisper to me the dirtiest words. I had goosebumps all over my body.

"Bruce, fuck me harder."

He did as I commanded without further discussion, he thruster deeper in me, touching all my weakest spots. He made me cum uncontrollably, fucking me to the gates of heaven.

"Like this? Uh?"

"Just like that." I moaned, hugging him harder.

"This cunt is so fucking good. So fucking tight. Gonna make me cum, baby."

He moaned against my skin.

"Fuuuck. Oh my love!" I was out of my mind, I had pleasure all in my veins, I couldn't control anymore what came out of my mouth.

"Yeah. Feels good uh?" He kissed me not waiting for an answer.

He went faster, harder on me, I couldn't get enough, I was on cloud nine. Bruce hugged me like our lives depended on that. I came on and on, and my body was exhausted. Bruce kept going on fucking me senseless, moaning, letting himself go. His body was warm against my skin, his touch so sweet .

"I love you, my beautiful wife. I love you so much." He looked at me straight to my face and smiled, finally a warm smile and not a calculated one.

"Y-you say that now that you're fucking m-me." I spit venom.

His movements started to get harder and more precise, trying to find my weakest spot.

"I. LOVE. YOU." He repeated harshly.

"Then fuck me like you mean it."

He smirked just to then increase his pace.

One hour later, we finally came to a stop. He rested his head between my brest. I had no energy, I was really exhausted so I closed my eyes and when I reopened them, it was already the next day.

Sun rays hit my face, I didn't want to wake up. The bad was so warm and soft. It wasn't the bed I got used to in my cold apartment. It was Wayne Manor's.

I lifted my hand trying to find Bruce, hoping that all the things we said the previous night would have become true, and finally, we could all get back to be a big family.

He wasn't there. My heart sinked. I pulled myself up, and I was completely naked. I headed to Bruce's walk-in closet, hoping to find something that could suit me, just to then leave. I found all my clothes in there, including the ones I wore the night before.

I dressed up, opting for a cream coloured sweatshirt, tight blue jeans, and a pair of white trainers.

I collected my phone and my bag and headed downstairs.

"Where are you going?" His voice echoed in my head, and his firm tone stopped my movements.

I turned around, and he looked like he had just come out of the shower. He wore a towel, and little water drops were running from his head down to his weist. With his hands, he held a plate with breakfast on it and a fresh red rose.

He placed the plate on a dresser, and he moved slowly closer to me.

"Alfred is not here, I had to arrange something myself. I know you like strawberries."

He caressed one of my cheeks, kissed my forehead, and hugged me. I hugged him back with my heart pounding in my chest.

"You just had to stay in bed and wait for me a little longer. I wanted to surprise you with a delicious meal and good morning sex."

I smiled and hugged him tighter, finally understanding his intentions.

"You smell so good." I said, sniffing his chest.

"We can shower together after breakfast and good sex." We kissed and ended up in bed again, skipping breakfast and going straight to devouring each other.

We had breakfast after two rounds, and then we showered.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." He said, caressing my hair while hot water was running down on our bodies.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." I responded, smiling. He smiled back at me, and we kissed again.

That day we went to the beach, it was warm despite being winter. He looked so handsome, happy, and relaxed. It was at that moment that I finally saw the man I fell in love with. He looked young, well-kept, and glorious under the sunlight.

"What, honey?" He asked me.

"You're so handsome." I said, looking away since I was getting shy.

"Come here. Let me kiss you one more time. "

"You gotta catch me first." I smiled, seeing the confused face he made.

I ran, and he chased after me. My intention was never to get too far away from him, I couldn't anyway even in my dreams. He eventually caught me and threw me over his shoulder. He spanked one of my butt cheeks, making me laugh.

Not too long after, he put me down and caught my cheeks between the palms of his hands. We kissed once more.

There were sparks materialising around us. It was all so perfect.

To be continued...

Hope you liked it

Shotout to

For inspiring my story.

♡♡♡ Thank you for reading ♡♡♡

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey, I wanted to ask if you could write Kieran x gender neutral reader. Maybe they were friends when younger, and they met again after the indigo disk plot. But now the reader went from shy with long hair to extroverted with a more goth punk style and short hair. They go to Blueberry Academy with friends, and Kieran is kinda jealous of them, like MC, for it being so easy for them to make friends. So they have a sit down and talk it out with maybe a bit of romance sprinkled in.

I hope this isn't too long!! I really love your writing.

Aw thank you! This is fine and I decided to give Reader a Toxtricity as their partner Pokémon

..........

"Uwaaahh...uhuuuhuuh.."

"H-Hey, um...are you okay?"

Sniffling, the young boy looked up from his knees to see you standing over him, concerned. He tried wiping away his tears, but they just kept coming as he recalled some rather mean words spoken to him.

"I'm..f-fine.." He lied, clutching the broken pieces of his ogre mask.

"Are you sure? Because you're sitting all alone here, away from the festival with a broken mask.." You quietly pointed out, frowning.

"...the..jerks over there did it." He finally admitted, his gaze going to the fenced area where some kids were hanging around. "I-I thought they were my friends...and then they called me stupid for likin' the Ogre from those stories..."

"What? They sound like real bullies."

"A-All I said was that....I didn't think it was a bad guy..and then they...they told me they didn't wanna be my friend anymore...a-and now...I-I don't have ANY friends!! WAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

Although you were startled by his bawling, you couldn't help but feel bad for him. Leaving him alone certainly wasn't an option, so you sat down beside him, noticing the small Sentret that was trying to comfort him.

"There, there.." You awkwardly patted his back, feeling your face growing warm. Hopefully this wasn't too weird and you were actually helping this poor guy. "I don't have any friends, either. But I can be yours...i-if you'd like."

With a small hiccup, Kieran looked at you, his golden eyes large and full of tears. "Y-You wanna be my friend?" He sniffled. "Even though I like the "bad guy" of those stories?"

"I don't think there's anything wrong with that." You nodded softly, offering him a tiny smile. "I can relate to the Ogre, too. How lonely it must feel up there in the mountains..and um...how it just wants to be accepted."

He smiled back a little, although he was still depressed over the current state of his mask as he kept staring at it.

"Could I...buy you a new one of those? And a candy apple if you're hungry?"

Blinking, he gazed back up at you, stunned by your generosity. "Y-You don't have to do that.."

"But I want to. I just got my allowance so..I don't mind it." You shrugged, before you heard a familiar cry and looked to see your Toxel hobbling away from the festival grounds...

With candy razz berries on a stick.

"Oh no! Tox.." You bemoaned, huffing as the little baby Pokémon innocently waddled into your arms. "You can't wander off like that..a-and you certainly can't be stealing! You know we gotta pay for this, right?"

"Taahaa.." They cooed, already munching on the sweet treat.

"....fine..I'll let this slide because you're a cutie."

"Is that..a Toxel?"

"...o-oh!" Embarrassed, you turned back to Kieran and showed him Toxel. "Yes..sorry. This is my partner. We've been training a lot lately..but...as you can see, they've got ways to go. Haha.."

"You've done Pokémon battles? Wowzers.." He gazed at it in awe.

"Yeah..have you?" You asked.

".....no. I-I don't know anything about them. They're cool to watch but..I don't think I'll ever be strong enough to fight one myself.." He sighed, petting Sentret on the head. "I'm scared of Sentret getting hurt..e-especially by those..rude people."

At this revelation, your shoulders slumped. "Look....I get it, but if they see that you're afraid to battle, then...they'll just keep pushing you around."

"I know. I-I don't wanna be afraid anymore. But...my grandparents think I'm too young to be a trainer, a-and my sister thinks I'm too weak to even try...so I don't see a point..."

"..my own family doubted me, too." You remarked. "It was hard for Toxel and I, but..we had to go against their wishes. We had to become strong enough to stand up to our bullies..and we did. Now they fear the day this little sweetie grows up into a strong Toxtricity."

With a small coo, Toxel giggled and nuzzled your cheek with their forehead so they didn't accidentally shock you. "Taaaaataaa.."

"Yep." You giggled, before glancing back at Kieran, who looked extremely inspired by your words. "Maybe your Sentret will become a strong Furret someday, too. But...you'll have to train it first."

"And..wh-where do I start, if I may ask?" His voice became even quieter than yours.

"How about after the festival? You and I can have a practice battle."

He blinked. "..l-like tonight? With you?"

"Sure...if you're not busy, of course-"

"Oh no, I-I can definitely do that tonight!"

"Great! We'll just..go over the basics, that's all." You hopped to your feet as Toxel climbed onto your shoulder, and you offered your hand to the boy. "Also I'm sorry for not introducing myself. I'm [y/n]."

"Kieran." He had a shaky smile on his own face as he took your hand, letting you pull him up. "Th-Thanks for cheering me up...I think I'm ready to go back into the hall."

"Alright." With a small chuckle, you tied up your long hair before donning your mask, taking his broken one.

"C'mon, Kieran. First stop is the sweets shop...which candy apple do you like?"

.

.

.

.

"....and in Galar, Toxtricity had the power to Gigantamax. And they could turn into this awesome creature with a HUGE radio tower on their back. Oh, and they attack with a guitar made out of electricity!"

"Oh my Arceus!"

"That is sick!"

"We NEED to take a trip to Galar next year."

"Bro, maybe Piers can give you some more fashion tips. Because the punk is rocking."

"Thanks, haha..maybe I will."

As Kieran walked through the doors to the League Club, he heard the laughter and chatter of a group of people who were gathered at the table. Seeing new faces always caught him off-guard, considering how he somewhat left the organization in shambles..

He wasn't expecting so many to join, let alone scrap together enough BP to change the room's layout and usher in new additions--like that itemizer machine..

But it seems the rest of the Elite Four, plus Florian/Juliana, managed to rebuild the foundation and keep it alive. And even he thought this was for the best, as his burdens as both champion and leader were finally lifted from his shoulders.

While he hated that Paldean for "dethroning" him at first...he was actually relieved.

Now he was spending his time trying to make amends with everybody, feeling ashamed for the way he acted towards them--especially to the club members he took his anger out on. He kicked out one guy all because he couldn't meet his impossible standards.

Kieran did make sure he was back in the club..but even so, it took a while for that kid to forgive him.

He knew it wasn't going to be easy. Some people were still going to be bitter over what he did.

Fortunately, he can now enter the club room without feeling like everyone was staring at him, nor could he sense the heavy tension from the Elite Four as he walked past them. They just greeted him like an old friend before going back to their discussions.

When he was about to introduce himself to your group, however, he froze up the moment your eyes met his own...

At first, he was bewildered by the gothic-punk attire you've managed to incorporate into your uniform, complete with spiky bands and makeup. He's never seen any other student here test the waters of the dress code like you did.

Yet that wasn't what shocked him, but rather...the person underneath all of that.

You looked awfully familiar...

Where has he seen you before?

Funny enough, you were asking yourself that same question as you stared back up at this guy, trying to figure out why he was giving you such an odd look.

At first it seemed judgy.

But then you saw those familiar golden eyes, the black hair with purple highlights....you only ever knew one person with those characteristics.

"No way..Kieran?"

"....[y/n]?" He murmured, stunned. "You..remember me?"

"It took me a second, but wow...it really is you!" You chuckled, leaning back in your chair. "I haven't seen you in years, dude! And I know what you're gonna say...yes, I know I look like a Team Yell member. But I just like the fashion back in Spikemuth. It stuck with me."

"Wowzers...you went to Galar...?"

"Oh yeah. Went there to study and ended up staying a bit longer than I meant to...but it was great." Smiling, you rubbed the top of your head. "I got myself a nice trim while there. It was a much-needed change. Speaking of which....I don't think I've ever seen you with your hair up." You raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah..it was..getting in the way." Kieran brushed back his bangs, still reeling from the shock of seeing his childhood friend here at his school after all these years.

Not to mention how you presented yourself as this confident and boisterous person. Were you really that same shy long-haired friend he knew back in Kitakami?

"[Y/n], you know this guy?"

You both glanced back at your friend group, and you nodded. "Yep. He's an old friend from the Land of Kitakami. Honest to Arceus I had no idea he attended this school..but then again I literally just enrolled today. Either way, it's a nice surprise. Glad to see you again, Ki."

"Same." He nodded, although there seemed to be a certain sadness in his eyes as he stared at the people surrounding you, shoulders slumped. "Anyways, uh...I wanted to welcome you all to the club. I-I'll be back later. Bye, [y/n]."

With a nervous swallow, he quickly turned tail and left the clubroom, while your friends wondered why he looked at them all that way...

You believed you already knew the reason..

But when you saw their confused gazed, you just smiled and shrugged. "Don't worry about him, he's shy."

"Shy? But that guy used to be this school's champion!"

"...no way, really?" Your eyes widened, resting your arms on the tablr as you leaned towards one of your friends. "Tell me more."

.........

At the end of the day, the club was ready to close up shop. Everybody else had left except for you and Toxtricity.

You volunteered to stay late, picking up the messes your friends left behind, such as the opened snacks and sodas (some of them being from Drayton, of course). Amarys did promise you some BP for all your hardwork and willingness to accept responsibility, so that was motivation enough.

Despite the way you look, you weren't always some rebellious punk.

Just as you have both finished and were about to lock the door..you noticed Kieran approaching from down the hall, and he looked rather serious.

Finally, this was your chance to talk to him.

"Oh hey, Ki."

"Hey, [y/n]..is it just you here?" His gaze went past yours, eyes darting around the empty room.

"Nobody but me and Tox." You gestured to Toxtricity, who nodded and smiled, strumming the organs on their chest.

"I see they're all grown up, too." He remarked, sounding a bit more relaxed after realizing nobody else was around.

"That reminds me..how's your Sentret doing?"

"He's a Furret now. And he's doing just fine...but not on my main team, anymore. He's more like...an emotional support Pokémon, I guess?"

"Fair enough." You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around your companion's shoulders. "I learned there was more to Pokémon than just battling. They can be your best buddy, too."

"Right.." Kieran nodded, his smile fading.

You frowned a little. "Listen..I know this is kinda awkward. We haven't spoken in years, and I still feel bad for moving out of Kitakami without-"

"No, it's not that...I'm happy to see you again. I just.." He sighed, looking down at the floor. "You said..today was your first day here, right?"

"Yeah."

"I can't believe you've already made so many friends. It must feel nice.."

You were confused at his rather sour tone of voice, although you were anticipating this sort of confrontation, recalling how often he struggled to make and keep friends--besides you, of course.

But even now, it seems those insecurities never left him.

"D-Did I say that out loud?" Suddenly he tensed up, appearing a little scared. "I'm sorry, you can ignore me. I'm...tired. I-It's been a long day, so I'm just gonna-"

"Wait, Kieran."

Before he could turn around and leave, you took ahold of his arm, and he looked back at you with shock. "They didn't replace you if that's what you're worried about."

"...it's not that, either."

"Then...what is it?"

"You'll think it's stupid...." He mumbled, shaking his head.

"It's not stupid if it's clearly bothering you. Look, let's just..sit down and talk about it, okay? I'm not here to judge."

He blinked at your proposal, but eventually decided to sit at the table with you. Toxtricity crouched down next to your chair so you could pet them on the head.

It took a few moments for Kieran to start talking, yet with your silent encouragement...he finally spoke up.

"How do you make it look so...easy?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...you have all these friends now while I..." His voice trailed off, fists clenched on the table as he tried to keep himself calm. "..I-I can't name a single one other than you and Florian/Juliana. You'd think becoming champion and club president would make me super popular. But the truth is that it only made me feel more isolated. So how did you do it? How did you become so confident? Is there a secret or some code word I never knew about?"

"There's...no secret, Ki." You responded, your heart sinking. "Friendships just sorta..happen. Like ours did that day those jerks made fun of you at the festival of masks. I guess it was just....up to fate."

"...well I wish fate gave me the same luck as you." He bitterly muttered under his breath.

"Luck? No. That's...look, I'm not popular, and I'd never wanna be. Those people are my only friends here aside from you." You huffed. "I know I've changed since we last saw each other...but I'm still that same kid from before-"

"I barely recognized you, [y/n]." He bluntly pointed out. "We grew up together in the same place...but you went to Galar, changed your whole looks, and made so many friends here on your first day. Then there's me, who...h-hasn't really changed at all." His shoulders became slumped. "I've done things I'm ashamed of, and I'm trying to fix them, but I just feel...stuck. Like I'm never gonna move on from being that whiny little kid from Kitakami who keeps wishing he was somebody else.."

Your gaze softened a little, finally understanding his perspective. "Well..I personally don't see that anymore. I see you're trying to change for the better, and that's great. You should be proud of that."

Kieran blinked as your hand came to rest over his own, his heart skipping a beat. Yet he kept his focus on you and your comforting smile, despite finding it difficult to see the truth in your words.

He could feel that self-doubt festering inside him again.

"But..y-you don't know what I-"

"People here told me such awesome things about you, and I almost couldn't believe them."

He stared at you. "What? Really?"

"Yeah, dude! You never told me how your team uses a competitive setup with Rain Dance on the first turn...or how your Applin is all grown up into a Hydrapple. Hell, I didn't even know that was an existing evolution until today, so you taught me something new-"

However, you stopped rambling upon hearing a small sniffle coming from your friend. You then saw his lips trembling as he tried pushing back tears with his sleeve.

Internally you began to panic. "Ki? What's wrong?"

"I-I'm sorry. It's just....everybody here talks about my Pokémon and battle tactics all the time, but never about me." He whimpered. "I-I want people to like me for....me, you know?"

You nodded sympathetically, gently squeezing his hand. Guilt swelled in your heart as you never realized how lonely he must've felt since you left...and right now you probably made him feel ten times worse.

"You really are a great guy, though. Anyone would be lucky to get to know the real you."

"........."

Now you were a bit stumped on what to say next, as he was staring at the table now, sniffling like a little kid. And you began wracking your brain for any possible way you could cheer him up.

Then an idea sprung into your mind.

You were going to save it for a later occasion, but...now seemed to be the right time.

Even Toxtricity agreed with you, as they nudged your arm with a low growl, wishing you'd finally fess up and let him know how you truly felt about him.

Your heart was beating fast, but you pushed away the nerves and momentarily let go of his hand to retrieve a pokeball from your bag. He seemed too caught-up in his own thoughts to notice, still wiping away his tears.

"But y'know what could be better than having friends?"

With watery eyes, Kieran managed to look at you straight on. "What?"

You didn't say a word, instead turning his hand over and placing a love ball into his palm. He looked at you with confusion, before gasping as the device suddenly opened on its own to reveal....

A Shiny Applin.

"Wowzers.." He gawked. "So this is what their shinies look like??"

"Yep. Straight from Galar."

"The love ball is an interesting choice.." He remarked, watching as the Applin jumped onto the table and gazed at him. "But..while I appreciate the gift, I-I....don't really see how owning a shiny is gonna help-"

"Oh, so he doesn't know, Tox..." You whispered to your companion, who simply snickered back.

"Tahaahaa.."

"....know what?" Kieran's eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the smirks you and Toxtricity were exchanging, growing more and more confused and concerned. "Can someone explain?"

"In Galar, people give Applins to each other as a romantic gesture." You stated bluntly, feeling your face burn up....but you prayed he would finally get the hint.

It took him about five seconds, his jaw dropping. "What??? Y-You.....really see me that way?" His heart began racing all over again. "Why me, though?"

"I like you for you, Ki. And that's all there is to it." You leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek, watching as his eyes went wide and his blush worsened. "Hm, I guess that shy little cutie is still in there after all."

"C'mon..stop that.." Huffing, he shrunk back into his jacket in a vain attempt to hide his flusteredness. "I-I do like you, too."

"I'm glad, and I promise..I'm sticking around for a long, long time." You looked to Toxtricity, who strummed a small riff on their chest. "I owe Tox one for finding that love ball for me. I was gonna save it for some fairy type, but...I think I found a better use for it."

All Kieran could do was smile and nod, taking your hands into his own. While he was still too flushed to properly speak, he was nowhere near as sad as he was before your confession.

You were right.

This was a LOT better than having friends.

Because now he had you.

While both of your looks and personalities have definitely changed, the love and care you had for each other never did.

[spiralinghours]

“Personal Assistant” pt 2

Fandom: Saw franchise

Characters/Pairings: Mark Hoffman x reader (afab)

Rating: PG-13 (? for this part anyway)

Tags: switchy dynamics, pet names, brat behavior, light daddy kink

Summary: More indulgent drabbling about Hoffman’s secretary being a pain in his ass.

Author’s notes: By “switchy” I mean Hoffman likes to play boss but he also acts simpy and “Anything for you, baby”… And the secretary/reader is very “Yes sir” with him, but takes pleasure in lightly manipulating Hoffman into letting her do what she wants, no matter how much it annoys him.

Pretty much just entertaining myself with these at this point.

Probably has spelling errors, whatever.

“I told you, Hoffy, my computer isn’t working. I gotta finish checking my e-mail. It’s part of my job, isn’t it?” You kicked your heels around giddily, stiletto stems nowhere close to reaching the ground. The wiggling little movements elicited a grunt from the hulking frame under you, hunkered down on his hands and knees. Somehow you had sweet-talked your way into using your boss as a chair. Just for a quick moment, of course.

“‘Hoffy’,” he scoffed in a near whisper. “You mean ‘sir’, don’t you, baby?”

You were feeling particularly bold today—particularly obstinate. But it wasn’t with any ill intent. You were just playing around. And he couldn’t pretend that he didn’t find your small bratty streaks somewhat endearing.

“Maaaaaaybe,” you mocked, biting out the tip of your tongue.

Hoffman turned his head up enough to see the face you were making, grunting with more frustration a second time. “That’s enough, honey. Daddy’s back hurts. You can finish checking your e-mails later.”

“But I’m sooooo comfortable,” you giggled, crossing your arms. You were laying the brattiness on thick. “You’re so sturdy, Hoffy. So cushy too.”

You had become so wrapped up in your own diabolical glee that the sudden drop jarred you severely.

Hoffman was now standing, hovering above you as he reached down to scoop you up by the waist. In a swift procession, he had pulled his office chair under him and draped you over one of his knees, making the whole act seem effortless. He was a strong bull indeed.

“You’ve been particularly irritating today, sweetheart,” he started through gritted teeth. While still dopey and soft, a warning intensity cut through his glare. “Are you trying to make things difficult? Are you trying to get in trouble?”

“N-no, Hoffy.”

SPANK!

He clicked his tongue. “Now, now. I know you only call me that when you’re trying to get on my bad side. You trying to be a little shit to Daddy?”

You shook your head, fully lying. A tiny smirk couldn’t help but crack through. You loved taking the piss out of him, draining the smugness out of his expression.

SPANK!

“Out loud, babydoll. Talk to me.”

“Yes, sir,” you giggled, though voice a little hesitant and reserved. The throbbing sting on your ass was an indication to cool it. But you wouldn’t.

At this point, your velvety black pencil skirt had been raked up to your lower back, revealing strappy, complicated garters running over seamless, pink panties. And, of course, a reddening behind.

“Oh, so you’re actually going to be honest with me now, huh sweetheart? Well, that’s very kind. But you were kinda pushing your luck, weren’t you? You can always use Daddy as your teddy bear—I’ll be whatever you want. But when I tell you to stop and you don’t? It’s not very nice, is it?”

There was that almost fatherly tone of disappointment. It tore you up a little. And also riled you up.

SPANK!

“Hoffman!” There was a hollow voice ringing at the closed door accompanied by rapid knocking. It sounded like Fisk.

Hoffman hurriedly slid you off his lap, at which point you slithered underneath his desk. You took in the view of his shiny black shoes and the way his rounded lower belly pressed into the edge of the desk.

Fisk had already entered, his conversation with Hoffman muffled and uninteresting above the wood surface you hid under. It seemed like mundane trial scheduling was the topic of discussion, so you decided to entertain yourself.

You lifted your chin past the edge of the rolling chair, reaching your teeth to graze Hoffman’s thick side. Even though your bite through his shirt fabric was tender enough, you felt how he jolted, immediately slinking a hand down to swat your face away. It was funny how you could hear the brief shift in his breath, but he managed to keep cool—voice low and dull as ever.

The footsteps at the front of the desk abruptly trailed out, door clicking behind. Uh oh, you were definitely in trouble now.

“Think you’re funny huh?” Hoffman’s eyes looked down with those unamused lowered lids. “I dunno what would be worse: more spanks or me canceling dinner tonight… But now that I think about it...”

“Don’t cancel dinner,” you fake-whined, jutting your lower lip out. You crawled out from below and stood up.

“Fine. But knock off this annoying shit. I’ll be good to you if you’re good to me, babydoll.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled against your sternum as he pulled you close where you stood in front of him. “Anything you want. Just be a little nice.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“I know,” he exhaled.

[mitsua]

Hello it's me again 🌹🎀 I must say that I saw your post that you had made and I loved how you wrote it, you have some talent ✨ I had this thought a few days ago, I saw myself again of an anime Magical Girls (Precure, although in English the adaptations of two of its anime franchises are called Glitter Force) And I was wondering if I could make a request for A female reader who is a magical girl (Precure or Sailor moon) and is in a relationship with Izuku Midoriya (It would be fun to know how they would get along their relationship).

And no thanks for the other request! You are the most never forget.

: 🌹🎀

Hiii 🌹🎀!!! Thank you so much for your support! I wholeheartedly appreciate it!

Ohh, this is probably gonna sound weird but I've actually never watched a whole series involving magical girls... sure I watched a couple of Sailor Moon's episodes but I preferred something else so never got to engage with them too long. However—this request definitely made me re-think about my choices and I'll most probably go watch some when I can! Soo, enough rambling—hope you enjoy this headcanons!

With an S/o who's a Magical Girl

Warnings: none Genre: fluff

Series: Boku No Hero Academia Pairing: Izuku Midoriya × FEM! Y/N

Words' count: 0.50k

Better be prepared when he first sees your transformation! Undoubtedly will stare in awe and probably malfunction for a while, so if you got a sparring match of any kind, you could have some advantage hehe.

He can't help it! All those sprinkles and the sudden glow coming from your body flabbergasts him—the dress that could or could not reveal some parts of your body shocks him more. Nevertheless, he really loves your costume so much and makes sure to let you know while he is interviewing you about your power's benefits and drawbacks.

Even when you're one of the best couples in the Heroes' world after getting your official license, he can't help sometimes but admire you as you get into your matching clothes.

You carry your special weapon everywhere, it helps you to transform quicker and Izuku notices quickly along the way. That's something he gotta do since he's been witness and victim of villains attacks and without the proper equipment close to him, he may get more hurt at the end of the battle. (Like without the red gloves All Might's niece did for him.)

So, after asking you how it works or you lending it to him to investigate it, he may be able to come up with some device that adjusts to his necessities so you both are never caught unprepared on the streets.

That's something else, the eye public has on you. They've been supportive ever since you decided to announce your engagement with Izuku.

Everyone thinks you're the cutest couple ever!

They've got clips of battles when Izuku's mouth is slightly agape as he watches from behind you as you transform and—in the other way around when you smile profoundly when he activates his power and his whole body starts glowing green. Yeah, definitely made for each other.

If you have a maskot, whatever creature they might be, they give you both that sense of comfort and normality while spending quality time in your shared home.

You spend mornings cuddling and when your maskot sees you two, they go straight to enjoy your warmth when they settle between you two on the bed.

On a sad side, you two know how painful it is to watch the other get or be injured. Of course you do your best on the battle fields to end up victorious and smile comfortingly to everyone, alas, it's not always possible.

Izuku went through a spiral of thoughts when you were deciding to be a couple of active heroes. If you ever decide to for a family, he might have gone further than just a spiral of thoughts—instead suffering anxiety and insomnia as only fatal outcomes kept on appearing on his dreams.

He may try to disuade your idea to keep protecting people when you do get a family together, but if you stay strong you will come with a resolution that would work perfectly.

You two would undoubtedly make history as the 'glowing couple' because of your quirks!

All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the base idea, picture and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!

[genderqueerdykes]

i'm struggling a lot with what to label myself. I've always felt a connection with butchness, but my idea of "masculinity" doesn't really seem to gel with the predominant image and fashion.

Part of it is that I'm disabled. I'll never be able to comfortably wear jeans or suits or hard leather men's shoes or workboots. Usually it's just crocs or something soft on the inside. I'm usually just hanging out in a t-shirt and sweatpants. I'm also just a big fan of small accessories like a single earring or a bunch of rings.

It also means my partner has to help me with a lot of things. I wish I could do more "chivalrous" things like helping with heavy objects or fixing things but like. I can't do that. I do try to be a loving and supportive partner, but I mainly do that through cooking or helping them schedule appointments or keep track of things their ADHD makes it hard for them to remember. I feel like this all means I can't really fulfill the butch role?

I flirted with the idea of being a "soft butch" for a while but I was told that it was a fake meme scale thing, like futch. I know a lot of people on here are like "do what you want forever" but I'm just very confused and I specifically feel like I don't have a claim because of my disability.

i wanted to say that i feel you very deeply there, and i wanted to relate to your experience, because i totally get it-

i have to dress for comfort and to accommodate my disabilities, so i get what you're saying. wearing boots is hard for me, i have to wear sneakers/trainers or other shoes that are comfortable while being supportive- that's why in most of my pictures i'm wearing the same shoes, because i can't really deal with a lot of different styles of shoe. being autistic also makes this difficult

i've actually written about how the "chivalrous" stereotype for butches is dangerous and completely leaves out disabled butches, you may want to give it a read and see if it helps you feel a bit better, because you're not alone, that stereotype bugs me deeply-

butches do not have to be strong or "chivalrous," butches are simply masculine queer people. to essentially force butches to be stereotypical cis men is uncomfortable, and it's not fair to the butch. you are allowed to be butch in whatever ways are accessible to you- if you can't align with that stereotype, then break it. you're not meant to fit into a mold! i'm tired of the idea that all butches have to be clones of one another:

butches can do whatever the hell they want!

you're butch no matter how you present or behave because you said you're butch! i hope this helps, take care of yourself!

[leynaeithnea]

I didnt get an ask for this BUT WE'RE BACK

my Wisdom saga reaction/analysis!!!!!

26. Legendary

TELEMACHUS MY BOYYYY

THE MELODY AT THE BEGINNING OF LEGENDARY IS SO COOL

the instruments aaah, lowkey obssessed

"its jus tme myself and i" perimedes would like u

"living in this world you left behind".........this song makes oyu think so much about what life has been in Ithica in those years since Odysseus had to leave, he was loved, he is *King*, AH

"dreaming of all these monster, that ill never to get to fight" better this way, u dont wanna end up like your daddy

"but boy i wish i could so i could bring the world some light" BABY BOY

"Cause I'm stuck with your stories, but no clue who you are And no idea if you're dead or just too far" his mother wouldve told him so many stories :aniTears:

"Somebody tell me, come and give me a sign if I fight those monsters, is it you I'll find?" PLS HE jusT WANTS TO FIND HIS DAD GIVE THIS MAN HIS FATHER

"If so, then give me sirens and a cyclops Give me giants and a hydra" hes just naming every monster he can think of of the myths he grew up with

"I know life and fate are scary but I wanna be legendary" U GO BOY; I LOVE YOU, also such a mood

"I'll fight the harpies and chimeras, the Minotaur, even Cerberus I know life and fate are scary but I wanna be l-l-l-l-legendary"....yea same like the two parts before, any monster he can think of, he gotta be one of us kids who read a lot

THEN The droppp in his voice, HE SOUNDS SO SCARED

"There are strangers in our halls" That must be TERRIFYING, just imagine that, dozens of men in your home just prying on your mother and youre too young to do anything rly

"Trying to win the heart of my mom, but she is standing tall" THAT VOCAL PERFORMANCE, W FOR PENELOPE; GIRLBOSS

"108 old faces of men who call me small" EW; 108 IS SO MANY BRO; SO MANY????? Also "old faces" ISJGSEIGJ "who call me small" boy, i feel so bad for you

"They keep taking space and it's not much longer we can stall" !!!! HES WORKING WITH HIS MOTHER TRYING TO HOLD THEM OFF; AH AAAAH, also fuck them, leave their home alone, god he must feel so unsafe in his own home :screams:

"'Cause they're getting impatient, dangerous too" oh no :( so scared lil boy

"And I would fight them if I was half as strong as you" HE LOOKS UP TO HIM SO MUCH AH

"Somebody help me, come and give me the strength Can I do whatever it takes to keep my mom safe?" HES ALSO A MOMMY BOY; AND HONESTLY GOOD FOR HIM; STAND BY HER SIDE; U GO BOY, 🥹

Chrous SLAPs

"Where is he? Where is the man who'll have you to wife? " bitch stay away (also cut song reference!)

"Where is he? Where is the man with whom you'll spend your life?" HE IS ON His WAY HOme SO STAY THE FUCK AWAYYYYYYYY ARGG ILL FIGHT U

"Cause it's been 20 years, 20 years" 20 FUCKING YEARS??? THATS AS OLD AS I AM (and telemachus for that measure, same age, yay!) BUT BRO IMAGINE WAITING FOR YOUR HUSBAND TO COME HOME FOR 20 YEARS; PENELOPE X ODY OTP; PENELOPE FIGHTING OFF 108 SUITORS FOR 20 YEARS AND ODY FIGHTING OF *GODS* Trying TO TRAP AND USE AND KEEP HIM, THEY DESERVE EACH OTHER

"And we still have no king" >:) >:) imagine an island without leader for 20 years oh boy h boy, the power vacuum, 108 people who want to take his place

"Give me a chance, a single opportunity and I'll overcome these obstacles and scrutiny and-" HE WANTS TO SO BADLY he juST DOESNT KNOW HOW AND WHEre TO START BC AH, also the music sounds like he just tries to sneak around his palace, to not get caught by the suitors, dodging and on guard, i can just imagine him ducking his head and looking at every corner for smth danger-

"Boy".......that slapped hard, FUCK YOU ANTINOUS (hi perimedes :) )

"When's your tramp of a mother gonna choose a new husband?" FUCK YOU STAY AWAY (the dELIVERY)

"OoooOOoh" we have a new choir! the crew is ded but we have the suitors now hah, ill take it, love me some choir responses

"Why don't you open her room so we can have fun with her?" THE AUDACITY? WHORE FUCKING BASTARD STAY THE FUCK AWAY

"Dont you dare, call my mother a tramp" U GO BOY; TELL HIM (be careful, dont get hurt) THE VOCAL DELIVERY OF THAT LINE IS SO gOOD

"OoooOOoh" chiorr

" I just did, Whatchu gonna do about it, champ?" FUCK OFF ANTINOUS, DONT BE SO SMUG FUCK U

"Somebody tell me, Come and give me a sign, If I fight this monster, Is it you I'll find?" u desrve your dad so much, he'll come home, promise...promise....hold on, be stronk, u got this boy, also "this monster" its none from your stories, no this is real, its worse its right infront of you AH

Sorry for the swearing :") AH I LOVE THIS SONG SO MUCH, ONE OF MY FAVS FOR SURE (...we'll come back after recency bias but i dont think itll change)

EDIT: DANGER MOTIF WHEN ANTINOUNS JOINS IN!!!!! (are there more? im new to this PLS TELL ME)

@lorethebookworm

[starleska]

[stepping over the picket fence from my backyard into your backyard, like I’ve learnt anything about Despicable Me or Maxime since my last ask besides it is, indeed, the masc “le Mal” and not the feminine “la Mal”]

Hi, hey, howdy, don't worry about getting to this ask quickly or replying or anything, you take care of yourself, do what you need to do, do what you want to do 💕 I'm going on a thought experiment, a couple of thought experiments. <3 

but I was pondering my orb or taking a four hour nap or whatever you wanna call it and like. Is flustered, needy Maxime a new concept???? Not something that’s been greatly considered????? Bc tbh, he always gave me those vibes. For some reason. Like “Oh yeah, of COURSE he’s clingy and embarrassed and blushy and etc etc”. I’m not even sure why I was so sure but it just felt right. 💖 Surely…I wasn’t…projecting any type of …”personal biases” upon himAHEM so sorry, allergies. 

That big coat is for hiding and he totally can just, dissappear in there and hide from the world. He could pull the coat up and his head in and hope he can cover how read his face is. Like don't look at him rn, he's so vulnerable and uncomfortable about it bc he's used to being so big and impervious, but also don't go away, bc he likes you sm and this is so nice and he loves being adored. But also it's so much!!!!!!!!! Vicious cycle.

I'm a Blushy Needy Maxime truther. Or liar. I'll leave it to the people who've actually seen the movie to decide. Just the bigger the ego, the harder they fall, thats what I always say. Don't fact check that. 

What do you reckon flusters him most? Nice words? Physical affection? Teasing? Gifts? All of the above? I feel like it could be anything. 👀 or maybe it’s none of the above. 

Maybe I underestimate him, maybe he's got better composure than I assume, but every set of armor has a weakness! Anyone can get flustered, Maxime can get flustered, and tbh he probably should get flustered. Where there’s a will there’s a way! …Maybe Valentina would help. Either way I KNOW THAT GUY IS GETTING FLUSTERED I know it 

Accidentally a little overboard with the teasing and flustering and he gets all in a huff, giving the cold shoulder. You gotta say you’re sorry and wrap your arms around him, and in an ideal world he’d hold strong to his grudge until he felt you’ve paid your dues, but he can’t help but melt into your embrace. He compromises, turning back to you, burying his still-hot face into you and refusing to look at you instead. His arms tight around you, not letting you go even long after you assume all is well. His ire is still on you, you know! You owe him a lot for all that trouble you put him through! And besides, he still feels lightheaded from all this blood rushing to his face. You must let him stay in your soft, supportive embrace for just a moment longer. You wouldn’t turn him out now, would you? After you did this to him?  For shame. 

(He is Not intending to let you go anytime soon, he is making up all the excuses)

…hm…I may be talking in circles and not saying much of anything. I also feel like I’ve Greatly Exposed myself today. I gotta go disinfect my ear piercings…I gotta wash my neckties….I gotta refill my mint essential oil diffuser to keep away…the….the bugs…ahem…I gotta make a Pokémon team for Normal Reasons. 

I'm also once again coming to you cold, literally standing next to an actual oven for warmth like a Victorian child when my jacket is on a chair literally just one Maxime away. I’ve Got to GO. I CANT KEEP BEING LET OUT OF CONTAINMENT LIKE THIS. Thank you for listening to my TEDTalk/hostage situation. If anyone asks, I was never here. Take care, you’re great <3 

[Runs away, jumping fences like I committed a crime here.]

not you dropping an entire three course meal and dessert into my askbox, á la mode!!!!!!! 🙈💖💖 for someone who claims they don't know anything about Maxime, you certainly have put a lot of thought into this message...😉

you know, at the time you sent this ask I would've said that flustered, needy Maxime is a new concept, but we've had an amazing wave of art for him over the past week and there's so much of him being all cute and blushy 🙈🙈💖💖 i think it's that he is so easily angered and hates being called cute…he's total fluster-bait!!! we NEED to make him blush 🥺 AAAAA ohhh my god the idea of him wrapping his coat around himself and hiding is so soft!!!! no no you are SO onto something because Maxime is so horribly arrogant and confident, he's a bully who loves the spotlight and desperately wants attention…so wouldn't it be interesting to finally hit that sweet spot and get him wanting to hide? i really do think overt affection like that would make him curl up, and if you did it in a pointed enough way, his face would light up like a traffic light 🥰💖 i think that Maxime is probably really unprepared for anyone who is able to match his energy. he's looking down at you all heavy-lidded, boasting about himself and casually belittling you, but you shoot back with a well-aimed flirtation and it just. hits him like a truck. his cheeks warm, he starts to stammer. he desperately tries to recover, but he's actually looking for an out because he needs to find somewhere to breathe and quiet his beating heart 👀💖 YOU ARE CORRECT Valentina would so get involved!!! you've probably seen us talk about Valentina a bit before, and our wishes that she'd had more dialogue/character development in the movie…but two things that are very canon about Valentina is that she loves cute things, and she also thinks MAXIME is really cute 👉👈 i am certain that behind closed doors those two lavish all kinds of attention on each other, and Valentina turns Maxime tomato-red every time!!!! squealing no no no please don't be embarrassed i LOVE this!!!! gahhhh i adore that quick possessive flip from being so embarrassed and curling in on himself to it being something where he desperately wants to keep you, he can't let you go…!!! oh, my heart 😳😳😳 it's going to sound so silly given all of the stuff i've made for Maxime and being a selfshipper but i adore him so much that i STILL get so incredibly squirmy even trying to imagine any degree of one-on-one discussion with him, let alone contact…!!!! it's taken me a week to answer this ask for exactly that reason 🙈💖 so THANK YOU for fueling my brain i am going to chew through my hoodie sleeves now 😳😳😳 cackles. are we both sufficiently dead now? did you manage to do all of those convenient excuse-related things (including making the Pokémon team which i would LOVE to hear about)? 👀 it's OKAY lovely, open yourself up!!! there are no rules when it comes to loving characters - who says we can't adore many at once?! 🥰 thank you for always sending the loveliest, most interesting asks!! i've been mulling over this one for a hot minute and it's really, really cheered me up after a tough month, so big big hugs 🫂💖💖