#i had my own room for a bit and i got to be experimental with pens and stuff for awhile i think it was cool

[angelicblondie]

footballplayer!rafe x wag!reader (MDNI)

note: i dont know a lot about football so some details about that might be wrong!!

it was safe to say that your life had drastically changed over the last year.

before you met rafe, you were simply a girl working a marketing 9 to 5, with a fairly boring life. you had dinner with you parents once a month, went to work every day, you had nights out with you friends on the weekends- your life was just like any other girl approaching her mid 20s.

however, over a year ago, you were at a bar on a saturday night with a couple of your girlfriends, just trying to let loose from the week. you were only a couple shots in when you spotted the handsome stranger eyeing you from afar, and you were immediately filled with intrigue. rafe felt himself being magnetically pulled to your direction, sauntering over to where you stood with your friends by the bar.

he approached you with his sickly charming smile, wooing you instantly. the two of you got to talking and if you were honest, you were smitten instantly. about 5 minutes into the conversation you realized who you were talking to - rafe cameron, the new startup qb for your cities team. you weren't a huge football fan, but you'd have to be living under a rock not to know who rafe freaking cameron was. he had become a huge deal in the past months, reasons ranging from his killer wrist to his deadly looks.

you had seen girls thirsting over him on social media and you couldnt help but agree - the guy was smoking hot, even more so in person, making you honestly a little surprised he was even talking to you.

you look a sip of your drink, eyeing him thoughtfully. "so, whats a hot shot like you doing in this dump?" you ask, your voice teasing yet soft.

rafe let out a chuckle. "I could ask you the same question. dont you gotta boyfriend at home or somethin'?" he asked experimentally, awaiting you answer with the tilt of his head.

you bit your lip, catching his drift. "no boyfriend," you reply, twirling the straw in your drink. "how 'bout you? no groupie chasing after you?"

rafe poked his tongue into his cheek with a smile, shaking his head. "nah, on my own at the moment."

you hum, nodding along to his words before wrapping your lips around your straw, locking into his eyes as you sucked the liquid out of your glass.

thats how you ended up on his bed later that night, letting him pound into you as you screamed into his pillow - truly the best sex you had ever had at that point.

whilst your sexual chemistry was undeniable, so was your romantic chemistry. the two of you flowed into conversation easily, and could feel the early excitement of your new situation.

you spent the whole week at rafes house - only leaving his side for work, and him for training. the two of you showered in the morning, made or ordered in meals for dinner, and talked late into the night, about anything and everything (and of course, had sex. lots and lots of it). you got to know rafe, from his early childhood, to embarrassing high school stories, crazy college encounters, and all about his love for football. and rafe got to know you too, since you found yourself uncontrollably sharing things you had never uttered to another soul, wondering why it was you felt so connected to him - why you trusted and liked him so much already.

at the end of the week though, it was time for you and rafe to part ways, since the football season had started, causing rafe to need to travel.

you were inexplicably crushed, wondering if your time together had run its course, and if it was time to say bye forever - only remembering each other by the perfect week, and nothing more.

luckilly though, that wasnt the case - you and rafe just couldn't stay away from each other. he called you every night, as long as he could. you watched his games on the tv in your living room, texting him after each time to congratulate or console him, depending on the outcome. you even brushed up on your football knowledge, wanting to be more useful in conversations about the topic and to understand what was going on in the games.

your friends were of course happy for you, but also perplexed. you had just met the guy, and you two were already acting like a married couple. but once you formally introduced him to them, they understood.

the two of you just simply had a special connection, and admired each other so much. it was like you skipped all the awkward first dates and base line questions, and just jumped right into the good stuff - and it was (and still is) perfect.

that how you got here - a year after the two of you made it official only 2 month into knowing each other - in a stadium in sunny california.

your boyfriend was playing against the LA team, and you were seated in a box with the other friends and family of the players, sitting next to rafes dad and step-mom, as well as his sister sarah.

you and sarah had wine glasses in your hands as you sat in the first row, sunglasses covering you eyes as you waited for the game to start. you saw the occasional phone camera pointed your way, and you gave a small smile a wave.

you had definitely received more attention since you and rafe began your relationship - people had flooded you social media accounts with both love and hate, and had began to treat you as if you were some celebrity, which was strange, since you were just some girlfriend of a football player.

a very popular football player, but still.

with you new platform, you were able to post the cutest pics of rafe and you, (and some very hot pics of him alone), and also make a bit of money from it. you still worked in marketing, but had decided to mostly work online and remotely, making it easier to travel with rafe when needed.

a big topic of conversation between the two of you when you started dating was how you would approach that part of your relationhip - balancing your individual lives to meet in the middle.

you had made it clear that you wanted to be your own person, aside from being his girlfriend. although rafe could certainly provide for the two of you, for now, you quite liked relying on yourself for your pay, and you liked the independence that came with it. of course, rafe was supportive of this decision, but made it clear that this wouldn't stop him from spoiling you with any presents and treats that he could think of - only the very best treatment for his girl.

that being said, you still wanted to see him as much as possible, and since your job offered flexibility, you decided to take the opportunity to be able to move with him when needed and continue to work for yourself.

the game was an important one - it was the game that decided whether or not the boys would make it to the superbowl.

rafe had been jittery the whole day before, pacing around in your hotel room and cracking every bone in his body. you had tried to get him to relax, but his mind was running wild.

he kept trying to find something to do. for example, he spent a whole 3 hours in the hotel gym, working out to prepare himself. you gently scolded him once he returned though, worrying it would only make him sore.

you then ran him a bath, hopping in as well so you could try to ease his nerves.

you made the environment as relaxing as possible, lighting some candles and incense, filling the bath with bubbles and lavender essential oils, soft jazz playing in the background.

you sat behind rafe, softly massaging his back to relieve the obvious tension. you whispered reassurances in his ear, wanting him to go into the game with confidence in his abilities, and a clear head.

"the only way your going to win tomorrow is if your thinking of what your doing in the moment, not the past, and certainly not the future. you have to be present and open minded, not driven by emotions or fear," you had reminded him softly, turning him around so he could look into your eyes.

rafe nodded, a serious yet tired look on his face. he worked so hard, and he was so good at what he did. you wanted this so badly for him, but knew that the only way he would play his best tommorw was if he got out of his head.

"i know, baby. you know how i get like," rafe murmured, bringing you onto his lap and tucking his face into your neck, prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck and run your fingers through his wet hair.

"if its any consolation, I'll be proud of you no matter what. you've worked so so hard this season, and everyone sees it. I truly cant think of someone more deserving of this than you, babe," you reassure, trying to make you voice as soothing as possible.

you meant your words of course, but you really did want him to win. you knew how competitive he could be, and like him, so were you.

so once the game started, you removed the sunglasses off your head and into you purse, sitting down and taking a long sip of wine.

it was a long game, rafe team managing to get the first touchdown, causing your section to jump up into the air and celebrate. the screen had shifted to your boxes reaction, zooming in on you and sarah hugging and jumping up and down in excitement, cheering louder than anyone else there.

rafe had looked up, trying not to get too excited and keep his head in the game, but seeing you jump around so happily for him caused him to break out into a large smile, blowing a large kiss your way before running to his groups huddle.

the game got a bit rough after that, the other team getting 2 touchdowns causing you to wince each time, taking long sips of you drink. any time rafe looked in your direction you sent him a proud smile regardless, wanting to keep his spirts and hopes high.

by the 4th quarter, the other team had 4 points on you guys, meaning all you needed to win was just one touchdown.

with about 5 minutes left, the two teams on the field hadn't managed to score any points, and you were starting to worry. rafe, as quarterback, was talking to the coach of his team with a serious expression nodding along to his words before running over to his team. using his hands a bit, he explained the play, looking at each of their faces to make sure they understood the plan.

once it started, you and sarah were squeezing eachother hands tightly, muttering words of encouragement as your eyes glued to the field. you could hear the voice of ward narrating to rose, explaining what he thought the play would be and what would be the smartest option. you wanted to role your eyes at his condescending tone, but decided against it, focussing your attention on the game.

you watched in focus as rafe threw the ball back to one of his teammates, and they passed the ball to another. you lost sight of the ball whilst keeping your eyes on rafe (a constant tendency), and before you knew it, you turned your head to see one of his teammates run across the end zone and hold the ball up high, celebrating his victory.

you all immediately jumped up, cheering in celebration. you face broke out into the biggest grin as you watched rafe and all of his team mates pile on top of each other on the field.

the game still had about 4 minutes left, but it didnt matter, because luckily, the other team didnt manage another touchdown, meaning rafe and his team were going into the super bowl.

you and rafes family met him out back of the stadium, instantly hugging and congratulating him. you of course held on extra long, kissing his face all over casting a red hue on his cheeks.

before going out to dinner all together, you and rafe went to congratulate other members of his team and some of his friends, talking for a bit about the events of the game.

during dinner you sat close to rafe, his hand on your thigh as you leaned on his shoulder, enjoying the high of his victory and chatting casually with his family. eventually you two parted from the other, walking the short distance back to your hotel and luckily not getting recognized.

the minute you stepped into the room you were on rafe, holding his face as you pushed your lips onto his, as he grabbed your hips in mild shock. once it wore off, he took control of the kiss, walking backwards to the bed. once his knees met the corner and he fell back, you straddle his waist, waisting no time to lift the shirt of his body, revealing his toned figure underneath.

soon the two of you were a mix of sweaty bodies under the sheets, writhing in pleasure and letting out muffled noises. rafe had you underneath him, arching your back off the sheets and letting out little whimpers, too embarrassed to be loud, fearing the thin walls of the hotel.

"let it out, baby, I want to hear you," rafe coaxed.

you whine, grabbing his tone biceps. "cant, rafe. people'll hear"

rafe laughed a bit sadistically, squeezing your waist and pounding into you hard. "don't care. want everyone t'hear how good m'making y'feel. c'mon, you can let it out, I know y'can."

you moaned a little louder this time, cursing loudly whilst you screamed. "fuck, please, rafe, m'so close."

rafe placed one of his hands on your lower stomach and watched as he pressed down, earning a high pitched gasp and moan from you, throwing your head back against the pillows.

rafe tilted his head up to look at you and his lips tilted upwards. "yeah? can y'feel me? right here in your tummy?"

you nod wordlessly, your body squirming in pure pleasure. "please, rafe, I need t'come."

rafe continued his pace, groaning gutturally as he approached his own high. "fuck, go ahead baby."

your walls clenched around his dick, and rafe watched, tranfixed as the white ringlet appeared near the base of his cock, becoming more and more definded every time he slowly moved in and out of you. the view made his reach his own organsm, cumming into the condowm as he threw his head back, his stomach clenching as he released.

the two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled in bed, watching a movie and snacking on the room service you had delivered. and you truly couldn't ask for a better way to celebrate your boyfriends accomplishment.

[overrboarrd]

CRACKS IN THE PAINT [ from scratch series pt. i ]

a/n: been sitting in this for a day or so, decided to go ahead and post it instead of sulking. this is a really short series that’s based off of my IDR one shot from a while ago. feel free to read that if you’d like, but I’m probably gonna rework it and incorporate it into one of the parts of this series. anywho, i missed y'all, and i hope you enjoy reading <3.

“I know that we got some problems, I’m done trying fix them all

I’m sorry that it hurts sometimes and I’m sorry that we hit this wall”

The roar of the crowd reverberated through the packed arena, a wall of sound that should have fueled Joe’s adrenaline, but instead, it was background noise to the sharp, nagging ache in his shoulder. He pulled himself to his feet, his chest heaving as he glared across the ring at his opponent.

Carmelo Hayes was good. Younger, quicker, hungry for a win against someone like Joe—or Roman—an established name, a veteran. The kind of win that could launch his career.

The match had been a battle of strength versus agility, with Joe trying to ground the younger man while Melo darted around the ring, countering holds and springing off the ropes with relentless energy.

The injury had happened in the first ten minutes. A suplex—a move Joe could execute in his sleep—went wrong. Carmelo had been slippery, and Joe’s grip slipped just slightly, throwing off the balance. When they both hit the mat, Joe’s left shoulder took the brunt of the impact.

Pain flared instantly, hot and sharp, but he grit his teeth and powered through. Quitting wasn’t an option, not with a title defense in a few weeks. Joe wasn’t just fighting his opponent—he was fighting his own body, his reputation, the creeping whispers that maybe he wasn’t as invincible as he used to be.

As the minutes dragged on, the pain gnawed at him. Every time he rolled his shoulder to prepare for a move, it bit back, slowing him down. Melo noticed, capitalizing on the weakness with a series of armbars and submission attempts that had the crowd on the edge of their seats.

But Joe was a strategist, and his experience came through in the end. He caught the younger wrestler mid-flight as he attempted a diving crossbody, slamming him down with a thunderous spinebuster that shook the ring. The three-count followed seconds later.

The referee raised Joe’s hand in victory, and the crowd erupted, their chants echoing in the rafters. Joe barely registered the noise. His shoulder throbbed with every pulse of his heartbeat, and the rush of adrenaline that had carried him through the match was already beginning to fade.

He rolled his shoulder experimentally as he stepped out of the ring, wincing as the pain flared again. He hated injuries—not just for the inconvenience, but for the reminder that his body wasn’t infallible.

Back in the locker room, Joe sat heavily on a bench, the weight of exhaustion settling over him, the ache in his shoulder a dull roar now that the crowd noise was gone.

He stretched tentatively, testing his range of motion, and hissed through clenched teeth.

“Damn,” he muttered, the word sharp in the empty room.

His phone buzzed on the bench beside him, and he picked it up, squinting at the message on the screen. It was from his trainer, Ron.

“Saw that suplex tonight, dawg. I already know something’s wrong with your shoulder. I’m out for the next two weeks, but I got someone who can cover. Personal referral—I see her myself. Her name’s Camille. She’ll be at Architect tomorrow at 10.”

Joe’s brow furrowed as he reread the message. The name hit him like a slap. His grip tightened around the phone, his knuckles turning white.

Camille.

It couldn’t be her.

It was a common name—there had to be hundreds of trainers named Camille. But the uneasy knot forming in his stomach said otherwise. He didn’t even need to see her last name to know.

The memories hit him like a freight train: the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she loved, the weight of the engagement ring he’d once slipped onto her finger.

And then, the hollowness of silence. The unanswered calls. The empty space in his bed, in his life.

Joe tossed the phone onto the bench, running a hand down his face. He shouldn’t care. It had been years—enough time to move on. To forget. And mostly, he had. His life was full of noise, routines, and victories in and out of the ring.

But Camille had been the one person who had broken through his walls, made him feel something more than stoic responsibility and relentless ambition. She’d made him want things he never thought he’d want.

Then she left.

Shaking his head, he stood and grabbed his bag, ignoring the throbbing in his shoulder.

There was no way it was her. But even if it was, he wasn’t the same man she’d ghosted all those years ago.

And he wasn’t about to let her back in.

┄┄┄┄┄

The air in the fitness clinic was filled with the rhythmic hum of treadmills and the faint melodies of therapeutic music. Joe stepped through the glass doors, his presence immediately commanding attention. At 6’3, his broad shoulders and carved frame made him impossible to miss, even in a crowd of recovering professional athletes.

The front desk attendant glanced up with wide eyes. "Mr. Anoa’i, welcome. You’re scheduled for a session in studio two."

He nodded curtly, muttering a quick thanks before heading down the polished floor toward the private training studio. His left shoulder throbbed with every step, a constant reminder of why he was here.

Inside studio two, the setup was professional but intimate. A padded floor, resistance bands, free weights, and a mirrored wall gave the space a focused energy. Joe barely had a moment to take it in before the door swung open.

Dark curls framed her face, falling right above her shoulders, and even from a short distance, Joe recognized the confident stance. His stomach knotted as his steps faltered.

It’s her.

Camille looked up, her deep brown eyes locking onto his. For a second, her confident demeanor flickered. She blinked, caught off guard, before quickly composing herself.

“Joe.” Her voice was steady, but the way her grip tightened on the clipboard betrayed her nerves.

Joe froze, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. The air between them seemed to shift, charged with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved history.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” he responded flatly, his tone edged with disbelief. His eyes narrowed, studying her like she was a ghost. 

Camille shifted her weight, forcing a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ron didn’t mention I’d be covering for him?”

“Ron mentioned a Camille,” Joe said, dropping his bag to the floor with more force than necessary. “But I didn’t think he meant you.”

She straightened her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. “Well, here I am.”

The silence between them grew heavier with each passing second. Joe’s jaw clenched, his expression a carefully constructed wall, but beneath it, a tide of frustration and hurt threatened to break through, emotions he’d worked hard to bury and now struggled to contain.

Camille broke first, her voice softening as she tried to explain. “Look, I didn’t know it was you until I saw your file this morning. If I had—”

“What?” Joe cut her off, his voice a low growl that carried the weight of barely restrained anger. “You wouldn’t have taken the job?”

She faltered, the words dying on her lips. “I—”

“Save it,” he snapped, turning sharply away and gripping the edge of the treatment table so hard his knuckles turned white. His shoulders tensed, the strain evident even in his injured arm.

Camille’s jaw tightened, her voice firm despite the crackling tension. “I’m here to do my job, Joe. Whether you like it or not, your shoulder needs attention, and I’m the one qualified to help you right now.”

Joe’s laugh was cold and humorless as he turned his head just enough to glance at her. “Yeah? Shame you weren’t this dedicated when it came to anything else.”

The jab was as sharp as a blade, and Camille’s breath hitched, but her resolve didn’t waver. “I’m not here to rehash the past. You need a trainer, and I need to do my job. That’s it.”

Their gazes locked, the air between them heavy with tension. Joe’s eyes bore into hers, sharp and unforgiving, as if daring her to break under the weight of his words. The silence stretched, loaded with the things neither dared to say.

Joe’s jaw worked as he stared past her, a muscle ticking in his temple. He wanted to argue, to throw another barb, but the sharp throb in his shoulder had grown impossible to ignore. Pride battled practicality in his mind, and practicality begrudgingly won.

Finally, he exhaled sharply. “Fine,” he muttered, his voice tight. “Let’s get this over with.” 

Shrugging off his jacket with a grimace, he sat on the padded bench. Camille approached slowly, her movements precise, but there was a slight hesitation in her step, like she was bracing herself for another verbal jab. When she stopped in front of him, her smaller frame seemed even more diminutive against his broad shoulders, but her presence was anything but timid.

She reached for his injured arm, her hands brushing his skin as she lifted it carefully. Warm. Steady. Joe tensed on instinct, his muscles coiled tight.

“How bad is the pain?” she asked, her tone even, professional.

“Manageable,” he replied curtly.

Camille’s lips pressed into a thin line, and she rolled her eyes faintly, though her touch remained gentle. “Let me know if this hurts,” she murmured, as though the earlier tension hadn’t existed.

Her fingers moved with practiced care, probing the joint. Joe felt the warmth of her hands against his skin, soft but firm, and something about it threw him off balance in a way the injury never could. He clenched his jaw, refusing to flinch as she tested his range of motion.

“This is as far as it goes,” he said gruffly, halting her midway.

Camille paused, glancing up. Her brow furrowed, but she didn’t push. Instead, she gently rotated his shoulder, her touch light but unrelenting.

“It’s definitely inflamed,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. “You’re lucky it’s not dislocated. When did this happen?”

“Last night. Bad landing on a suplex,” he muttered.

Her hands stilled for a moment, and she sighed. “You should’ve iced it immediately. Adrenaline or not, you know better than to let it go untreated.”

Joe’s eyes flicked to hers, narrowing slightly. “I’ve managed worse.”

Camille didn’t rise to the bait this time. Instead, she set her jaw and resumed her examination, her fingers moving with measured care along the taut lines of his shoulder. “You don’t have to prove anything by pushing through injuries,” she said softly, her voice a touch gentler now.

The words hit deeper than Joe wanted to admit, scraping against something raw, something he’d locked away the day she walked out of his life.  His eyes darkened, and his mouth opened as if to retort, but he stopped himself. Instead, he shook his head, his tone clipped. “Just do what you need to do.”

She studied him for a moment longer, her gaze unreadable, before giving a small nod. As she guided him through a few light stretches, her focus didn’t waver. Her hands were precise, her instructions clear.

And despite himself, Joe couldn’t help but notice the way her touch lingered just long enough to reassure but not overstep, the way her voice softened slightly when she asked if the stretch was too much.

The frustration simmered just beneath the surface, but it wasn’t directed solely at her. It was at the entire situation—at how her presence felt both an irritation and a strange kind of balm.

He hated that he noticed.

When the session ended, Camille stepped back, folding her arms as she regarded him. “You’ll need a few weeks of rehab if you want to avoid a tear. No wrestling until you’re clear-.”

He snorted, the sound bitter. “Not an option.”

Camille frowned. “Then you’re risking permanent damage.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he countered dryly, shrugging his jacket back on with a wince he tried to hide. 

She hesitated, then crossed the room to block his path, her voice softening. “Joe, I mean it. I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. You have to take care of yourself.”

He stared down at her, the weight of her gaze pressing into him like a challenge he wasn’t ready to face. Every shift of her eyes, every trace of concern in her voice, cut deeper than the pain in his shoulder. It was a reminder of everything they’d lost—and everything he’d buried.

The air between them crackled, thick with the unspoken. He could feel the tension radiating off him like heat, but still, he stepped around her, his movements sharp.

“Same time tomorrow?” His voice was strained, betraying none of the turmoil swirling beneath the surface.

“Yeah. Tomorrow,” she replied, her voice steady, though it held a thread of something else—something he wasn’t sure he wanted to untangle.

Joe didn’t wait for her to say more. Turning quickly, he headed for the door, his hand gripping the handle as if it could steady him.

The cool air hit him as he stepped outside, but it did little to calm the fire in his chest. His car loomed in the parking lot, a refuge of silence. He slid into the driver’s seat, the familiar scent of leather and stale air offering no comfort this time.

Seeing her again was like reopening an old wound, the pain sharp and immediate. But it wasn’t just the hurt that clawed at him. Beneath the anger and betrayal, there was something else—something he hated himself for still feeling.

She’d ghosted him, left him standing in the wreckage of what could’ve been. He’d told himself he was done, that he didn’t care anymore. And yet, the sound of her voice, the stubborn set of her jaw, the way she said his name—all of it brought the past rushing back.

As he slid into the driver’s seat, his hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. He’d survived heartbreak before. He’d survived injuries, grueling matches, and setbacks. But this? This felt like a different kind of test.

“Tomorrow,” he muttered to no one, the word tasting bitter in his mouth as he started the engine. His jaw clenched as he pulled out of the parking lot, the flicker of something he refused to name burning low in his chest.

Something that scared him more than any injury ever could.

[thefaithfulnightwriter]

𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 ~ Chapter One

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 a female who has been through so much in the clutches of Amarantha. Finds herself being freed she finds herself changed. She's more powerful and was now very unique in her own way. Starting a new life she finds it's hard and feels somewhat lost. But it all changes for her when she finds she has a mate. She soon suddenly feels less lost and finds a home in his arms.

☆or☆

𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 Azriel finds himself lonely. He was lonelier than ever, even in a room filled with his found family. He couldn't seem to rid himself of such feelings. It was a feeling that was threatening to swallow him whole. That is until he meets her, his mate. Azriel soon finds himself feeling less lonely and happier than he's ever been. And it was all because of her.

Pairing - Azriel x Female!Oc

Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Warnings - Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Mention of Past Abuse, Mentions of War, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Scars, Experimentation, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR - ACOWAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. And i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Looking out of the window that was beside her was what she was doing at the moment. Her gaze on the flowers and nature outside. Taking in the sight before her. The view never grew old to her. She could sit and look at the view for hours, maybe even days and get lost in her own little world. But she knew it wasn’t possible for her. She couldn’t do such a thing. 

But she always took what time she had and made sure she took in the view and cherished it. It was moments like this when she would do such a thing. Looking outside her home at every little thing she could. The way the beautiful flowers drifted slightly as the wind blew. Taking in the trees and watching as the leaves rustled in the wind and so much more. It led her to smile at the sight. But her attention was soon taken away from the view outside by the voice of a female. 

“Annamarie, are you going to the Rainbow with Irina today?” 

She heard the familiar voice of a female ask softly. Who had walked into the dining room where she was currently sitting. Turning, Anna saw the female. She had a welcoming smile upon her lips as she tilted her head in question. Her name was Amara. She was a beautiful female high fae. Who she was close with she was like a sister to Anna. Amara being very kind and caring toward anyone. She was quick to take Anna in when she had come into her life. 

Hearing her question Anna sent her a smile. She then nodded before looking down at her hands that were on the table fiddling with her cup. She soon looked back up at the female when she heard the shuffling of feet. She soon found Amara now smiling gently at her and was sitting in front of her on the other side of the table.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours that’s got you looking out the window in such a way?” Amara questioned gently with a smile. As she rested her chin on her hands. Looking at Anna with kindness. She had her gaze on the unique female. 

Taking in the soft spoken female that she thought of as a close friend. She thought Anna was gorgeous, but Anna had trouble seeing herself in such a way. So Amara made a point to compliment her on more than one occasion along with the rest of their little family. 

She smiled seeing Anna so open at the moment. Without a care. With her long dark curly mane that fell over her shoulders and down her back. Her light brown skin that was glowing in the light that came from outside. Then there was her soft but curvy frame along with her being slightly shorter than most fae. Her black long sleeved dress that hugged all of her curves then flowed to the floor. She then saw her medium length curved nails that fiddled with her cup.

Then there were the unique things or attributes about her that she had been put upon her forcefully from her rough journey over the many years. That Anna wasn’t very fond of. But was still coming to terms with and accepting. 

There were her ears that were longer and pointed that flapped slightly if she moved her head too quickly. She unfortunately had a cut on the outside of one of her ears. A triangle-like shape of skin missing. They were very sensitive to touch and sound. Which led her to keep them covered most of the time with a scarf or cloth wrapped around her head or her long hair covering them. But they still seemed to peek out no matter what she did.     

Then there were her unique eyes. One was a very dark brown resembling a beautiful onyx gem. It was her natural eye color, the color she was born with. The color both her eyes used to be. Then there was the other that was a silver color. It shimmered and glistened with her magic. The color she had been forcefully given. They were unique and different but caused her to become overwhelmed at times. Sometimes having blurry vision or having vision that was clear as day. Well to clear at times and so bright. Leading her to have to wear glasses with silvered wired frames. That had magic infused within them to help moderate her vision. That she often pushed up onto the bridge of her button nose.

There were also the scars that littered Anna’s body. She had a few that littered her face. There were small ones. But then there were two that stood out. One on her soft cheek that was a large and thick line that was from her ear to the corner of her lip. Then one that started from the top of her brow then over her silver eye and ended just above her other chubby cheek. Those were the noticeable ones. There were others that littered her arms and back that no one has seen. Well no one who wasn’t her family. But Anna still tries to keep hidden from others.    

But Amara with their family still thought she was truly beautiful. And they made sure to make it known as often as they could. Though Anna thought differently. She always had trouble accepting the way she looked even before what had happened to her. Having insecurities about the way she looked. It had gotten worse at one point after everything that happened to her with her new attributes. But she seemed to be getting better as time passed and with the help of her little found family.  

“N - Nothing much Mara. Just taking i - in the view outside is all,” she smiled at Amara. After she gestured to the view outside. She couldn’t help but get lost in the view again. It was just so beautiful she couldn’t get enough of the nature around them. It led her to smile with excitement just thinking of going outside to feel the energy and wind on her skin. She wanted nothing more but to step outside without shoes and socks on to feel the ground beneath her feet. So she could connect with the environment around her. She was about to speak about her excitement but was cut off by Amara speaking. 

“Hmmm it is gorgeous isn’t it… just like you sweetheart,” Amara giggled with a grin. Hearing her caused Anna to stop for a moment taking in what she said. Before looking down bashfully. Shaking her head a light blush of pink traveled over her cheeks. Pushing her glasses on the bridge of her nose she sighed sending Amara a playful glare. Causing Amara to giggle with a wide smile, “what I’m just speaking the truth Anna! You are so pretty! Isn’t that right Killian?”

“Very true my love. She is so pretty my heart flutters everytime I see her. Just as it does when I see your gorgeous face,” Killian chimed in. Him having walked into the dining room just a moment ago. Having heard what Amara had said.  

Killian having entered the room with a wide smile. As he reached to place a kiss on top of Anna’s head and then kissed Amara’s lips gently. Making a loud kissing noise as he did so. Causing the two females to giggle and chuckle. Both watched as he took a seat by his mate Amara draping an arm lazily around her shoulder. Leading the female to lean into his side. Looking at Killian, Anna rolled her eyes playfully but couldn’t help but smile at the male. Killian always knew how to make Anna smile and laugh. It led her to sit and remember. 

Both having been by each other's sides for a long time now, for about fifty years. The two having been through a lot over the past years by each other’s side. The two had met in a horrible place… Under the Mountain. During Amarantha’s ruling. 

Killian having been kidnapped from his home Court, the Dawn Court. Him being a well known powerful healer. While Anna was sold off by her family so they could pay their debt to Amarantha. 

They soon found themselves as cellmates. As they were picked to go through experiments. Being experimented on with magic and so much more. Both being poked, prodded, cut, and beaten at for many years. It was truly a dark and cruel time for them. 

The only thing keeping them sane and keeping them from giving up during such a time were each other. They had grown a very close bond during that time. So close that they laughed about being platonic soulmates. They were there to hold each other. To encourage each other to keep going and not give up. To keep fighting no matter how much they wanted to just let the darkness consume them. 

It was during this time that their choice was taken from them. They had so many things taken from them. They had powerful and unknown magic forced upon them that they didn’t want. It was why they look the way they do now. 

Anna with her attributes like her eyes, ears, and scars. Then there was her magic. Having been put through many experiments to try and expand her magic and make her more powerful. So that Amarantha could bind Anna’s magic to her trying to make herself more powerful. Just as she did with the seven High Lords of Prythian. But Anna always kept her new growing magic hidden. No matter how hard it was she made sure no one knew of her new found chaotic magic. Well beside Killian he was the one to coach her teaching her ways to conceal and control her magic. Neither of them wanted anyone to know of Anna’s magic. Killian also wanted to keep Anna safe too.  

Then there was Killian with his enhanced healing and ability to heal others. He was able to heal anyone with just a touch from pretty much anything if he put his mind to it. It took time but it was possible for him. His healing magic had grown. Then his ability to heal. He could heal from anything. Whether it be him being amputated the limb would grow back. Being stabbed he could pull out the knife and the wound  would heal. Broken bone he could just reposition it correctly and it would heal. All good as new.

There were so many things he could heal from. Anna had witnessed everything and found it weird and gross but got used to it. But with such a power it came at a cost. It was an experiment that went wrong. It all stemmed from fire. The people experimenting on them wanted to test if he could heal from fire. It was before he was gifted with such healing. But ultimately gave him the ability to heal. His skin was scarred and burnt. There wasn’t a part of his body that wasn’t burnt. 

That day it led Anna to have to hold him as he cried in her arms non-stop. And Anna held him every minute, never letting go. But after some time with Anna’s encouraging words he got back up and came back even stronger. He still had his bad days, both of them did. But they kept going with each other's help. 

It was when the end of Amarantha’s ruling came and she had died that they snuck out together from Under the Mountain. No one knowing of them, just rumors. Both were lucky that not many saw them. They made sure to stay in the dark and stayed hidden. They both felt lost at this point and didn’t know what to do. Until Anna argued with Killian to go to his wife, his mate. The one he spoke about so much. He put up a fight but agreed to go to her only if Anna promised to stay by his side. Which she agreed to hesitantly not wanting to intrude on his life. But he always stated they would be by each other’s side no matter what.  

But it seemed their lives got better when Amara Killian’s mate and her sister Irina came into their lives. The two found themselves traveling to the Court of Dreams or Velaris in the Night Court. A beautiful city that had been opened to the public after being hidden for so long. 

It was where Amara and Irina had traveled to and made a new home for themselves. But after a heartfelt reunion between Amara and Killian. Amara accepting him and smothering him with love. After the four of them soon became close. They were a family through and through. It led Anna to smile thinking of their little found family. 

“Oh shut up Mara, Killy. My goodness I’m not that -,” Anna giggled with a shake of her head feeling her ears move slightly against her head. As she pushed her glasses up upon her nose. Killian was about to cut her off and was going to object. But Irina, his sister in law Amara’s sister, already beat him to it after walking into the room. Having heard part of the conversation. 

“Anna don’t even finish that sentence. And I hate to cut this short and get right to it but all of you are beautiful, gorgeous even. But I have to steal Anna. That is if you still want to come with me to the Rainbow. I’m about to leave soon,” Irina chuckled. As she walked into the room still searching through her satchel for something. 

“I’m going with you Rina. What are you looking for anyways?” Anna questioned as she got up from her seat. Reaching for her black scarf that had silver stars on it. She then began to wrap it around her head over her long ears. Trying her best to cover them up. 

“I’m looking for a letter that was addressed to you. It was all fancy and what not oh here it is,” Irina exclaimed in victory before handing it to her. Anna was confused but shrugged it off thinking it was a new commission for an art piece. Taking the letter she saw it was indeed fancy. As she opened it she thanked Irina which she sent her a nod with a smile as a welcome. Before she started a conversation with Killian and Amara. But looking down at the letter she gasped after reading it. Catching the others' attention.   

“What? What’s wrong Anna?” Killian asked her, he was quick to get up and move to stand by her side. She didn’t know how she felt. It was a bit overwhelming for her. So all she did was hand the letter to him. As she sighed, raising her glasses slightly and rubbing her face before placing them back on the bride of her nose. Watching him as he read over the letter. He was soon looking up at her with worry. 

“You’re not going,” he declared. 

“Wouldn’t that be suspicious if I didn’t go, Killian?” Anna sighed with a question. Not meeting his eyes. As she looked at the ground shuffling on her feet. She didn’t know what to think of the letter but she knew she was screwed either way. 

“What does it say?” Amara asked moving to stand next to Killian to read the letter over his shoulder. Irina was quick to ask the same thing as she slowly placed a hand on Anna’s arm gently. To try and sooth her. Looking up Anna sent her a small smile that was filled with fear. 

“The High Lord and Lady want to see her because of her artwork. And because of the charity work she has been doing,” Amara gasped as well after reading the letter. Looking at Killian and Anna then to her sister with wide eyes. Who reacted the same hearing what she said. This caused all of them to be filled with fear and worry for Anna. It was quiet for a moment between the four as they began to think of what to do until Irina spoke.

“Okay… I am sorry to say this but she’s going to have to go. There’s no way out of this. As Anna said it would be too suspicious on her part if she didn’t go. They know of her now. It would be even more suspicious if she avoided them. If they find out who she really is. There's too many people who know Anna and adore her in this city. So maybe that’ll ease their minds on her,” Irina put forth. She was about to continue to try and ease the tension but was cut off by Killian.

“No, I told you Anna. You shouldn’t have started doing all this shit. I said it would draw attention to you. But no you didn’t listen to me!” Killian bellowed as he ran his hands over his scared head. Hearing him yell caused Anna to flinch because he did warn her this would happen. But she just wanted to help. Which she whispered as she hugged herself, “I just want to help. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”     

“Help Anna! This is going to lead to us being found out by the fucking Night Court’s inner circle. Not just you but me too. Who knows what they’ll do to us!” Killian exclaimed. Sending a glare her way. Looking at her caused him to sigh because he instantly regretted yelling at her. She looked close to tears now in Amara and Irina’s arms. Both females sending him a glare back.

“You need to calm the hell down Killian. You act like she did this on purpose all she’s done was to help people. And she’s done that. She’s helped so many people in this city. So calm down and keep your anger in check. Before I smack the shit out of you. You of all people should know better than to yell at her,” Amara scolded. As she held Anna close, being taller than her. While Irina ran her hand gently over her back trying to also soothe her.    

“I’m sorry Anna, I'm just scared. Because I know you’re going to have to go,” Killian sighed. Before he opened his arms inviting her into a hug. Moving her head she adjusted her glasses and looked at him. She sighed and moved to him. Wrapping her arms around his waist while he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.  

“I - I don’t know what is going to happen… b - but I’ll make sure you guys stay safe. And you shouldn’t be scared because no matter what I’ll be there for you Killy,” she vowed. Tightening her hold around his waist to reassure him. A chuckle escaped his lips hearing what she said. 

“No matter what I’ll be there for you too Anna. No matter what,” Killian declared with a smile after kissing the top of her head. He was worried but knew that whatever happened that they would get through it together.  

Redamancy Taglist -

N/A

[oncasette]

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢𝗡’𝗧 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗠 𝗧𝗢 𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗡𝗗 (𝗔 𝗦𝗛𝗔𝗠𝗘, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗘𝗘𝗠𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗡 𝗛𝗢𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗧 𝗠𝗔𝗡)

phil wenneck x fem!reader

summary: 3k.

“C’mon, baby. You gonna make me beg for it? I’ll beg for it,” he sighs as he keens further into you. The tip of his nose grazes your clit through the cotton as he drags his lips across your thighs. You drag your hand through his sandy locks, pushing your fingers through the waves of hair and moving the few strands that had fallen away from his forehead.

or the one where phil’s late. again. and he’s got some major groveling to do. dedicated to my inspiration & motivation @gretagerwigsmuse

warnings: smut, piv, oral (f! reciving), fingering, a lil bit of spit kink if you squint, porn with like an eensy teensy bit of plot

masterlist | taglist

He was late. Is late. Still.

You should’ve expected it, honestly. When has he ever been on time for a goddamn thing in his life? Correction. Your life. Phil was always on time for his friends. For Doug—maybe not his wedding—and Stu. 

But for you? 

No, you should’ve expected this. 

The clock on the oven blinked as you stared at it, the food you’d cooked already cold despite never leaving the frying pan. Despite the fact that Phil said he’d be home by five and you’d started cooking at six. 

You give it about thirty more seconds of staring at the front door from your spot at the dining room table before you’re forcing yourself up from the rigid chair to slug off to the bedroom. Despite struggling with the zipper, you tug the dress down your body and let it pool around your ankles as you look at yourself in the mirror. Phil had always loved that dress. It’d been the cause of your being late to an event more than a few times, Phil’s self control being so lackluster you’d barely gotten a single foot out of the door before he was dragging you back into your bedroom. 

Your fingers trace the underwire of your bra. You’d worn this for him, too. The set he’d bought you for Valentine’s last year. Cherry red lace that just barely covered you, matching panties that left nothing to the imagination, and stockings that hooked to the rest of the ensemble with a garter. 

You peel it off with the grimace, replacing it with white, cotton panties and a bra you’d owned for years. Since college, you think. Since before you’d met Phil. 

It was all just so frustrating. He’d promised he’d be home on time this time. Crossed his heart, hoped to die, pinky sweared on it. 

Your face burns as you rifle through your shared closet. Even while pissed off at him, you can’t help the way you gravitate toward his end of the closet. Unable to resist the urge to feel close to him, to smell him wrapped around you. What an asshole. You grab one of his button downs, sighing as you yank it off the hanger. It takes you a minute, grappling with the few buttons done at the top, before you toss it onto the bed behind you. 

You stand in front of it for a while. Staring. Contemplating. It isn’t until you hear the key in the door that you make the decision to actually put it on. 

He calls your name from the front door as you slide your arms through the sleeves. You button enough of the top couple buttons to keep yourself decent. You wanna make him suffer, even if only a little bit. 

“Honey?” you hear him drop his bag on the table beside the door, hear him kick his shoes off. Hear him groan and grumble out a handful of various expletives. 

He calls your name experimentally as he moves toward the bedroom. He’s leaned against the frame when you open the door, both hands holding up his weight from where he’s placed them at the head of the frame. The heady scent of his cologne has your brain going fuzzy at the sight of him. 

“You’re late, Wenneck,” you say. His breath catches in his throat. Wenneck. Not stud or baby or even just Phil. Wenneck. 

You gesture for him to move, sliding past him in the small space he offers. He follows after like a kicked puppy. 

“I can explain,” he starts. 

“Oh, I’m sure you can,” you say as you move to grab the food sitting out on the counter. You’d left it on the stove with the hopes it’d stay warm longer. It's been cold for a while now, though. 

Pressing the tab on the trash can with your foot, you scoop the full contents of the frying pan into the garbage bag. Phil stands behind you, hands on his hips as he attempts to wrestle for some semblance of ground. 

You turn to face him. “Well. Explain.” 

“I didn’t mean to…”

“I didn’t mean to. You should’ve been here,” you say as you drop the pan in the sink. 

“I know, sweetheart. I just- I got tied up at work,” he says. “You know how Kathy gets on Fridays and-”

“Kathy’s in love with you,” you say, nearly snorting. You spin on your heels to face him, using the kitchen counter behind you to support your weight as you lean against it. 

“Kathy is not…” he sighs. “That’s not the point. Look-”

He steps closer to you. His hands come out instinctively, reaching for your hips. The look you give him has him dropping them to his sides, barely a foot between the two of you. 

“I shouldn’t have been late, I know that, baby. But, I’m here now,” he says. You lean forward, pushing yourself off the counter until you’re close enough to feel his breath fanning across your mouth. The scent of the gum he always chews when he gets stressed hits your nose. Spearmint. Hooking your fingers into his belt loop, you pull his body into yours. 

“Make it up to me,” you exhale. He nods, jaw slack as he leans in to kiss you only for your head to turn at the last second and his mouth to smack against your cheek. 

“What-“

You click your tongue. “That’s something you gotta earn, Mr. Wenneck.”

Phil’s eyes roll into the back of his head, face dropping to press his forehead into yours. 

“Baby,” he exhales. He kisses your cheekbone. 

His teeth graze your skin as he trails his mouth lower. Your brain goes a bit fuzzy when he kisses the seam of your jaw. 

You feel his hands grip your hips, palms splayed as he uses his index finger to tap twice. A signal for you to help him lift you onto the counter. As soon as he’s got you up, he’s moving to kneel between your thighs. It’s a view you don’t think you’ll ever get used to. The warmth in his gaze as he looks up at you with those cataclysmically blue eyes, the curl of his hair behind his ears. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever laid eyes on, you know that?” 

One of his hands finds its way up your thigh, under the hem of your shirt, and up your torso until his fingers are toying with the padding in your bra. 

His name drips down your tongue like a prayer. 

Already, he’s wearing you down. Bit by bit. Letter by letter. Slowly but surely.

“It won’t happen again,” he exhales, sliding his hands up your thighs until they’re resting just below the hemline of your underwear. He’s so warm, always running so hot that you feel like you’re gonna start sweating at any moment under his touch. 

“You said that last time, hot shot,” you say. 

“C’mon, baby. You gonna make me beg for it? I’ll beg for it,” he sighs as he keens further into you. The tip of his nose grazes your clit through the cotton as he drags his lips across your thighs. You drag your hand through his sandy locks, pushing your fingers through the waves of hair and moving the few strands that had fallen away from his forehead. 

“You made me feel really stupid, you know. Felt like shit just sitting here just staring at the door… oh,” you gasp as he begins to suck a purple mark onto your thigh. “Just waiting for my boyfriend to stroll through it whenever he pleases.” 

“I know. I know,” he groans as he presses a kiss to your clothed cunt. “Let me make it up to you, baby. Let me make you feel good.”

“You can do better than that, pretty boy,” you say. 

He moves up your body enough to bite the elastic seam of your panties, snapping it against your skin in a way that has you jumping against him. The palm of his hand plants itself against your knee, spreading your legs apart more to give him the space to press his body further into you. 

“I had on that dress you like,” you hum as you place your hands on the table behind you to lean your weight back on them. You feel him groan against you, eyes falling shut. “That lingerie you like, too.”

You want to make him suffer, just a little. As a treat. 

“You’re killing me, here, honey,” he winces. 

“‘S the point,” you gasp as he hooks his fingers into your panties. His tongue is flat as he licks a stripe up your clothed cunt. Slowly, dragging the muscle and dampening the fabric before he pulls back enough to pull the obstruction down your legs at a devastating pace. It catches on your knee for a second, forcing him to tug harder until he’s got the flimsy garment totally off, balling it up to tuck into the back pocket of his pants. 

The first thing you feel is cold air being blown against your slick, sending your hips jumping forward into his touch. 

“So sensitive for me already,” he hums as he kisses and nips at the plush skin of your thighs. 

“Please,” you whimper just as you feel the tip of his nose prod your clit. He licks a broad stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, gathering the wetness that had already begun to pool there. 

“God, so wet, too,” he groans against you, sending shockwaves through your nerve endings. 

“Get to it, Wenneck,” you say, though it comes out shakier than you’d intended. 

“Already back to Wenneck, hm?” he asks, using the tip of his tongue to prod at your entrance. 

“Gotta… Gotta… oh,” you gasp. Every thought in your head stalls as he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard until you’re keening your hips further into his touch. He brings a hand up swipe through your arousal. It oozes out of you until his fingers are shiny. 

“I think she forgives me, don’t you, pretty girl?” he asks as he presses small kisses to the bundle of nerves. 

Nodding, you sink your teeth down into your bottom lip. You’re not sure you trust yourself to say much of anything to the man right now. He curls his fingers until just his middle finger is pressing against your dripping hole, just barely pushing in. His mouth slows to a languid pace as he continues to drag his tongue against you.

Pulling back just enough to spit on your clit, he uses the mixture of your slick and his drool to push his finger fully into you. 

“More,” you mumble, craving the stretch of more than just a single digit. 

“You want more?” he chuckles against you. “I’ll give you more, baby. Whatever you want.” 

He pushes his ring finger in with the middle, curling them both as they graze against the spongy spot deep inside you. 

“Oh, god, Phil!” you whine. 

“That’s right. Say my name,” he gloats. 

“Phil,” you exhale. The third finger he adds has you seeing stars. 

“Cum for me, pretty girl. I know you can,” he says. “Know you want to.” 

He sucks on your clit again, sending you spiraling into your orgasm faster than you have a chance to latch on to your boyfriend. His tongue stills, knowing how sensitive you get as you cum, and his fingers slow as he helps you ride out your climax. 

As soon as the waves of your orgasm have finished washing over you, he’s standing, cradling your head in his hands as he slants his lips over yours. His tongue rolls against yours as he licks into your mouth. His hands drop to grip the backs of your knees, pulling you forward until your body is flush with his own. Until you can feel the throb of his cock through his pants against your center. 

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” he mumbles against your lips. “Show you just how sorry I am?”

“Please,” you whine, again. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him more, rolling your hips into his as he slowly undoes the buttons of your shirt. Your hands find his belt, struggling to get it open with the haze still hanging over your senses. His hands cover yours as he slowly moves them away just enough to un-notch the belt. But he allows you to take over from there. 

“We’ve got all night,” he says when he hears your breathing waiver. He brings a hand up to smooth along your spine, palm splayed wide across the expanse of your back. 

“Don’t care. Need you,” you mumble as your ankles hook around the backs of his thighs. 

“I thought I was supposed to be apologizing to you, sweetheart,” he exhales. 

“You’re forgiven,” you say. “You’re so forgiven. Now fuck me, hot shot.” 

“Yes ma’am,” he groans as he presses his body as close to yours as possible. His hand finds your hip, tapping twice as a signal for you to hook your ankles around his waist, before he’s sliding both hands up under your ass to pick you up from the counter top. He keeps his mouth glued to any open skin he can find contact with as he carries you the short distance from your kitchen to your bedroom, teeth nipping at the seam of your jaw before he’s dropping you on the mattress. 

Leaning up on your elbows, you watch as he tugs his pants and boxers down his legs in one go, the difficult part having already been done. Undoing his shirt takes a little longer, seconds maybe, as he rushes through the buttons of his shirt so fast you’re worried he’s gonna pop a couple of them. You undo the three buttons still done on your own shirt, slipping it off your shoulders to leave yourself bare to him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says once he drops the button-down onto the small pile of clothes he’d created in front of your bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he moves to frame your body between your spread thighs. 

“Right back at you, handsome,” you say as he leans down to kiss you only for you to press a hand to his chest and stop him just centimeters away from your lips. “Though, you could work on your punctuality.” 

He starts to fight back, mouth opening with the beginning of a retort before you cut him off. 

“I know, I know,” you peck his lips once. “Just teasing.” 

“Vixen,” he snickers before he’s bridging the gap to kiss you fully. His cock throbs against you, reminding you of the need pulsing through you. You reach down to wrap your hand around his length. Phil hisses through clenched teeth. 

You tug on his cock slowly, barely dragging your hand up the length of him in a way that has him shuddering against you. 

“Need you,” you mumble. “In me.”

“Whatever you say, baby,” he hums as you line him up. 

The initial push in has both of you groaning, your cunt stretching deliciously to accommodate the intrusion. 

“Jesus,” he grunts. “So fucking tight.” 

He pushes in slowly, inching forward until he’s bottomed out and you feel so full you think you can feel him in your throat. The first pull out is agonizingly slow. He’s nearly pulled out of you completely, leaving just the head of his cock notched within your walls. 

“Fuck me, Phil. Please,” you groan as you dig the heels of your feet into his ass in an effort to get him to move. 

“Well, I thought you would want something a little-”

“Goddamnit, Phil,” you say as you push your heels into him further, driving his cock an inch or so deeper at a pace that elicits a whimper from you. 

He builds up to a bruising pace after that. His fingers dig into your waist to keep himself steady as he punches that spot inside of you with the tip of his cock again. You bring your own hand down to circle your clit, needing just that little bit of friction to bring you back to the edge, only for Phil to smack your hand away and replace your thumb with his own. 

“Get outta here with that,” he mumbles as he drags his lips along yours. “Playing with yourself while I fuck you.” 

The pressure sends your brain into a thick muck of fog. 

Gasping out his name, you drop your head back onto the pillow with your eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“Yeah? You gonna cum for me again?” he asks. 

“Yes,” you say. “Yes yes yes.” 

“Soak my cock, baby. Want to feel this pretty pussy clamped around me,” he mumbles as his hips stutter with the signal of his own orgasm. 

Your walls flutter around him as you cum, his name on your lips and the taste of him on your tongue. Your chest heaves as his thrusts still. His cum coats you in thick, warm spurts. 

“I really am sorry,” he says. “I was going to be home on time. I set an alarm on my phone and everything and then-” “I know,” you say as you push his hair back from his forehead. He pulls out of you with a deep exhale, skin damp with sticky sweat. Collapsing back onto the mattress, he tugs you into his chest. 

“I want to make it up to you.” “You did,” you say as he ghosts his fingers across the length of your arm. 

“I want to make it up to you with more than just my dick,” he laughs. A laugh that has you laughing with him in moments. 

“You can make breakfast,” you offer. 

“Sure,” he hums, pecking the side of your head. “Hope you like microwave bacon.” 

[rosazoldyckk]

-Yandere! Illumi X Kidnapped! Reader-

⚠️warning⚠️ mentions of physical violence and abuse, un-consented NSFW moments (ONLY KISSING but still worth the tw) and needles.

Fandom: Hunter X Hunter. Character(s): Illumi Zoldyck, butler(s) (not specific)

A/N: I’m sorry if this is absolutely crap. I’ve got a lot of drafts about yandere Illumi, Chrollo and Hisoka so I didn’t really proof read this one😅 hope you enjoy my writing anyways❤️

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"You know how I feel about repeating myself Y/N." Illumi muttured, harshly sticking his needle into your already needle-covered head. His heartbeat increasing as your pained screams filled the room.

"I told you not to engage with them, didn't I?" He questioned, shoving another needle into your skull. You nod weakly, shivering at the cold chains while the burning sensation drew tears to your eyes.

Them, the them he's speaking of were simply butlers, which over time you considered friends after all the things they did to ensure your safety, that's all! Though he is probably no more. Your "lover" hated when you talked to anyone else, whether it was his butlers or even his own family, Illumi hated when you talked to anyone but him. That was the only thing that scared him, that was something he wouldn't allow happen. As long as he's alive he won't allow anyone to taint you, to see things in a different view than him.

It's unacceptable.

"Answer me."

The usual coldness of his voice had a tint of anger in it, which almost scared you, how could doing something so simple manage to make him this angry? "Y..es"

The dark-haired man smiled, a sick one at that. Moving closer, giving a thankfully soft tug on your blood-covered hair, pulling you into his arms. His hands being a bit closer to your back than you'd like. You simply attempted to ignore the sharp pain from the impact, thinking that it couldn’t get any worse than this.

As much as you tried to ignore the pain, it was enough for you to loose strength in resisting when Illumi fully closed the gap, placing his lips against yours experimentally. They were so oddly warm compared to the rest of him, molding to yours with ease as he moved against you. All you could sense was him. The dangerous may strong scent of pine with metallic undertones nearly becoming overpowering and almost intoxicating has he continued to kiss you breathless. It was almost enough to forget the pain shooting throughout your body.

Almost.

You attempted to protest with whatever strength you had left in your body but Illumi continued to cling onto you; the whine you let out muffled from his mouth over yours.

When he finally let you go, he left you breathless - chest heaving while you stared at him once more with eyes as wide as plates.

Illumi rubbed his thumb over your soft lips. Using his other one you run over your bruised back, snickering at your small flinches.

"Why must you disobey me like this Y/N? Why can't you make my job easier?" He whispers against your skin, talking more to himself than anything else.

"I love you so much," He sighed, kissing away from the salty tears streaming down your face. Being hardly able to contain himself in your disheveled state. "I'm only doing this because I love you, because others can and will seek to hurt you. You know I can't have that, don't you?"

You didn't have anything to say, there was nothing you really could say. You were confused beyond comprehension. How could he possibly hold you in his arms, look at you with such loving eyes after doing such unspeakable things to you? He doesn't want them to 'hurt you' but hasn't he hurt you more than they ever could? What could you possibly do now? Were you even in a position to go against his command?

You hiss at the sudden pain from the numerous questions racing through your head. Alerting the assassin much to your distress. The assassin could read you like an open book, studying you and your reactions longer than you can remember. As if knowing exactly what was going through your mind he scoffed, switching from his much nicer expression.

"And what could you possibly be thinking about?" Illumi asked, tapping on your cheek. "Ah, don't tell me it's those fools from earlier. It must be."

You let out a shaky sigh at his challenging tone. He knew he was right and so did you; that look you gave him only confirmed his suspicions. But the little bit of hope in your heart for them to be kept alive regardless of their so called ‘betrayal’, for them to continue helping you get back home. It would be your fault for their deaths after all.

Illumi gathered his needles from your head and freed you from the chains, catching you in his arms as you collapsed onto the floor. He let you go, still staring down at you as he licked your blood off the needles.

Crouching back down to you, he holds your face in one hand. "You'll stay here until you are properly disciplined, I have things to do." Though not realizing what they were you knew they were nothing but good. Pressing one last kiss to your cheek he leaned forward to whisper in your ear.

"Just remain by my side and behave, and everything will be alright."

[oizysian]

Has Science Gone Too Far? | Elizabeth Olsen

Requested by @selfcestmovies

Summary: Lizzie is introduced to a new piece of technology.

Warnings: Lizzie is a bisexual mess, and a switch, selfcest, cunnilingus, lots of self love, science going too far.

Word count: 2.3k

•

“Lizzie, this is the most experimental tech in the industry right now.” My manager said as he led me to the giant door just inside the studio. “You’re one of the first people to use it.”

He opened the door and we walked in. It was a plain room, like a casting call, with a couch and a desk and a chair, but no windows, and with a very noticeable computer screen on the wall near the door.

“What is this place?”

“This, Lizzie, is the future of acting.” He walked over to the panel on the wall and the room changed right before our eyes to what looked like a sunny beach set. “You can set up a session with anyone in any setting. Pick anyone, alive or dead, and you can see them, feel them, smell them, the works.”

“Seems really weird.” I said shakily, still taken aback by the fact that the room just shifted completely around us.

“You’ll get used to it. You’ll be able to hone your craft with some of the best and brightest of our time and of our grandparents.”

I looked around the room, still apprehensive and not quite liking the idea. It seemed wrong in a way to be able to warp reality in this way. Technology seemed to be going too far for my tastes.

“Look, take your time with it. Check it out for a little while. You might end up liking it.”

He gestured to the computer panel he had previously been using and stepped towards the door.

“I’ll give you a few hours and check up on you again later, okay?”

He opened the door and slid out before I could even speak, shutting it behind him with a solid click.

I sighed, looking around at the sunny room before walking over to the computer and pressing reset. The room went back to being a regular office, couch and desk included.

“This is too weird.” I said to myself, looking at all the options on the screen.

There were options for people, places, and objects and out of curiosity, I chose people and typed my own name in.

Suddenly, there I was, standing in front of myself.

“What the fuck.” I said quietly, watching as the other me turned to look me over, a smirk appearing on her face.

“Well, well,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Look who it is.”

“There’s no way this is happening.”

“Oh, it’s happening. It’s happened with quite a few other people as well.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ever wanted to sleep with DiCaprio?”

I shook my head.

“Well, he wanted to sleep with you! The young you, at least. Aged me down a bit first.”

“What the fuck?” Was the only thing I could think of to say.

“Yes, fuck, that’s what they all do.” She smiled. “And you’re no different, I assume?”

I stared at her - me - for a moment before snapping out of my stupor, shaking my head.

“What - no. No!” This was absurd. Surely this wasn’t happening. I was in a coma or hallucinating or something!

“Mhm.” She looked me up and down. “Why did you choose yourself? It had to be out of some weird curiosity, no?”

Why had I chosen myself? Firstly, I didn’t even think the thing would work! Second of all, who else would I have chosen? Marily-

“-lyn Monroe?”

I looked up at her in shock. She was me. She knew what I was thinking. She could probably hear my thoughts, she was probably listening to them right now.

“Listen, I know what you’re thinking,” my eyes got wide. “But I’m not a mind reader. Are you?”

“No?” Was that a trick question.

“Then why would I be?”

She took a step closer to me and I watched her intently. I still couldn’t believe I was standing in front of myself.

“I’m Elizabeth Chase Olsen.”

“No you’re not. I am.” I protested.

“And so am I. Now are we gonna keep circling around the same subject or are we gonna get to why you’re really here?”

I blinked, once, twice, before I realized what she meant.

“I’m not here to fuck you - me.”

“Oh no? You’re gonna tell me you never thought about fucking yourself? What it would be like to have a twin?” She scoffed. “You’re talking to yourself. I know your fantasies. I know what you like.”

She took another step closer to me and reached out to touch me, her fingers barely grazing the skin of my cheek.

“I can feel you. And you can feel me, see?”

She fully cupped my cheek and I shivered, pulling away slightly. She smelt like me, she even felt like me - her skin the exact same as mine. How was this possible?

“It’s just me and you here. Let yourself feel good.”

I looked from her to the door and she smiled.

“Once the simulation starts, it can only be opened from the inside.”

I couldn’t deny the things she was saying. I had always imagined having a twin, jealous of my sisters at times, but I never imagined fucking myself.

Not really.

She tilted her head at me and I realized she was looking for an answer to the unspoken question that sat between us. Nobody would know and it might actually be fun, being with someone who knows exactly what feels good without having to tell them and not having to second guess myself when pleasuring them in return.

A small smile crossed my features before I nodded at her, her own smile widening at my confirmation.

“Now,” she said as she reached for the hem of my shirt, lifting it over my head and tossing it aside. “Tell me how badly you want me to touch you.”

Oh, fuck, I was hot. I never got the chance to be dominant, but it was clear that not only did I have the desire to be a dom, but I was good at it.

“I want you to touch me so badly.” I finally admitted, my eyes falling to the garment on the ground before raising them to look into her own, her emerald eyes dark with desire.

I imagined mine looked identical.

She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, biting on it delicately as she ran her hands along my shoulders, her fingers hooking underneath the straps of my bra and sliding them down my arms.

She looked hungry, wanting, and I could only commend her for her patience as she undressed me slowly.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” She whispered softly, her eyes falling from mine to my exposed chest.

Did I?

“I already know the answer,” she smiled, her fingers toying with my hardening nipples. “You don’t have to answer.”

I let out a shaky breath as I watched her play with me, goosebumps forming on my skin at her touch.

“I also know you don’t want me to be gentle with you.” She twisted my left nipple painfully and I let out a whimpering cry, a jolt of pleasure shooting down between my legs.

I panted softly as she led me to the empty desk, pushing me back against it, letting me know she wanted me on top of it. I hopped up onto the sturdy wooden desk and her lips instantly latched onto one of my nipples, her teeth digging into the sensitive flesh.

“Ahh,” I breathed, grabbing a fistful of her hair and pulling her against me. “H-harder.”

She released me with a pop and switched breasts, her tongue swirling around the nipple before she bit down on it.

“Oh, fuck.” I moaned, pulling her between my legs so I could get some friction.

Her hands gripped my thighs and I felt as though I was on fire from her touch alone. She licked and sucked at the hurt she inflicted before trailing kisses up my chest and neck, finding the sensitive spot behind my ear and making sure to give it lots of attention.

I was losing my mind. I had to get out of these pants and I needed to get fucked. Now.

I reached down to undo the button of my jeans, struggling to push them off with her firmly between my legs. With a growl, she grabbed them and tugged, pulling them off with one quick motion. I gasped as I sat in front of myself in only my panties, and knew from the look on her face I wouldn’t be wearing anything at all soon enough.

“Lift up your ass.” She said as she grabbed my panties, pulling them down my legs and bringing them up to her face to smell them. “You always loved the smell of yourself.”

She took the panties and grabbed my face, forcing my mouth open and stuffing them inside. I moaned as the smell and taste of myself filled my senses, making my head get fuzzy with thoughts of eating pussy - and getting my pussy ate.

“That’s right,” she cooed, noting the obvious look of arousal on my face. “You remember how good pussy tastes, don’t you?”

I nodded dumbly and she smiled, pushing me down to lay down on the large desk. She spread my legs and stared down at me, in awe of what she was seeing.

“You have the cutest pussy.” I clenched around nothing and she smiled. “Look at you! So hungry for me.”

I whimpered softly, grabbing at my own breasts as she got down between my legs, lapping up the wetness that was beginning to drip down my thighs. I pinched and twisted my nipples as her tongue went straight for my clit; long, hard strokes she knew would get me going.

She held my legs down and I moaned, my hips rolling to meet her tongue. Being with a woman was amazing, being with myself was divine.

She wrapped her lips around my clit and sucked while she released my left leg and brought her hand down to my pussy so her fingers could enter my aching cunt.

I wrapped my leg around her shoulders and pulled her closer to me. She hummed against me and I bit down on the panties in my mouth, squeezing my eyes shut as the most powerful orgasm of my life rocked through me.

She continued to fuck me through the delicious tremors and I came again before I could even finish processing the first one.

My legs went limp and my hands rested against my breasts, my breathing heavy as she raised herself up, licking her lips like a satisfied cat.

“Remember what pussy tastes like?” She pointed between my legs. “This is better than what you remember.”

I moaned softly, lazily reaching for her. She smiled and leaned over me, removing the panties from my mouth and kissing me ever so gently. I sucked her tongue into my mouth, eager to taste what she had already had the pleasure of tasting.

My senses were filled with the scent and taste of myself, and I honestly couldn’t get enough.

She pulled away from me and I panted softly below her, ready for whatever else she had to throw at me.

She stood in front of the desk and began to undress and I watched as she teased me, slowly revealing her perfect body to me. I gasped softly as her beautifully pale skin came into view and I couldn’t help but sit up and watch as she removed her bra, her breasts bouncing free.

I sat up fully and grabbed her by the hips, pulling her towards me as I began kissing along her shoulder, nibbling at her as I made my way down to her breasts.

She let out a little sound of pleasure as I sucked on her nipple, kneading the other breast with my free hand. She had a body worthy of worship. So, I guess, I did too.

I wanted nothing more than to have every inch of her in my mouth.

I released her breasts, a trail of saliva hanging from my lips to her nipple as I slid myself off the desk, kneeling down in front of her.

She looked surprised, maybe even amused that I was on the ground before her. I brought my face between her legs and inhaled deeply. She was right, I did love the smell of myself.

I spread her legs wider and stuck out my tongue. She took this as an invitation. Leaning against the desk, she lifted her leg to rest on my shoulder and I gasped as I realized this is what I looked like - a beautiful, glistening image of perfection.

She grabbed a fistful of my hair and pulled me against her, grinding herself against my face. I barely even had to do anything and she was moaning, whining, ready for release.

I raised my eyes to look at her; her brows furrowed, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth, her breasts heaving. I let my tongue dip inside of her and she mewled softly, her nails scraping against my scalp.

She continued to hump my face as I fucked her with my tongue, occasionally leaving her hole to play with her clit. I held tight to her thighs, steadying us as she writhed in my grasp.

“Oh yeah, use that tongue.” She urged me on as I continued to eagerly lap at her wetness.

I flattened my tongue against her clit and she let her hips grind against me, her orgasm washing over her.

She let go of my hair, petting my head as I kept on sucking and licking at her sensitive skin, attempting to clean her up.

“You’re gonna make me cum again.” She whispered and I hummed in confirmation against her, knowing full well what I was doing.

She let out a high pitched whine as she came against my tongue again, my greedy lips kissing her pussy, taking in all of her juices.

“You’ve made such a mess.” She said softly and I smiled up a her, indeed a mess, covered in her cum.

“You’ve certainly honed your craft today, Miss Olsen.”

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 Sniper x M!Reader || Fucking Around, Finding Out +18

[Predator-Prey] ["Spontaneous" Sex] [Established Relationship] [Mutual Masturbation]

Mundy always had a mean streak. He watched you, stalked you from the shadows, and eventually, he caught you. He pushed you against the wall with no room between you two- his breath was a warm welcome against the cold winter wind of the outdoors and the unpleasant freeze of the metal on your back.

"Now, what do we have here, hm?" Mundy laughed darkly, his deep tone ringing along your ears as his comment left your cheeks somehow pinker than the cold did. "Did the little jackrabbit run out of room to escape?"

You struggled against his hold, yet his grip on your wrists against your sides and his sharp hips against your own told you that you weren't going anywhere until Sniper let you.

A rough kiss stopped you from speaking, his audaciously possessive moves of his tongue ravaging your mouth as his hips pushed deeper against you. Even with all the layers of thick fleece pants, you felt the erection pressed against you. God, he was hot when he owned you.

Needy hands eventually left your wrists as Mundy explored your neck and chest, staking his claim on you. The little tremors in Mundy's legs told you all you needed to know about how excited he was. Mundy loved the idea of overwhelming you, pressing you against an alley wall and fucked by a horny and vicious beast until his needs were satiated. You jumped at the suggestion immediately and planned a day. All you had to do was look hot and let Mundy take you.

"Christ love, you're gonna make me shoot in my pants." Sniper huffed as his frantic needy thrusts against your pelvis only made Sniper more and more lust drunk. You knew how your boyfriend liked to play games. He wanted you to fight him and make him earn his fuck from you. So, you bit him on the neck rather sharply.

That got him going.

He shoved down your pants and got to his knees and swallowed your dick as roughly as he could. You could feel his throat reject the intrusion, yet he powered through it as the hot and tight sensation flooded your senses. An experimental thrust got your hips a bruising grasp and a thud against the metal of the storage unit as Mundy fucked his face on you.

Mundy loved to be rough with himself- especially when it came to taking you in any way he could. Be it riding you so deep that he felt it in his lungs or as he sucked your dick while tears streamed down his face from the jaw pain, Mundy loved that bit of shocking pain with his pleasure. And hey, if you man loved it, who were you to stop your little masochist?

It was a matter of moments before you felt a warm churning in your stomach, a slight warning that you were going to cum. You whimpered out a tiny gasp and immediately Sniper removed himself and pressed himself fully against you. Every inch of your exposed skin was overwhelmed by the smell and feeling of Mundy. He pressed his newly exposed cock against you and wrapped his hand around both with an arhythmic beat.

"Why'd you have to go around like that?" Sniper growled as he revelled in your shallow breaths and quiet noises. "Looking like that, you were just begging for me to ruin you."

"So what if I was?" You spat back, as you only fuelled Sniper's fire.

"What a goddamn whore." He responded as his breath stuttered, his hand moved faster and became tighter. A choked out noise came from Sniper's throat was the only warning you got before his cum painted your shirt and left a claiming mess across your lower abdomen. It wasn't long before you followed suit as you bucked your hips into Mundy's hand as you came, which gave Mundy a similar stain to what he left you.

Breathlessly, you both shared a sickly sweet kiss.

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

Gentle Hands

Back on Kamino after successfully rescuing Echo and retaking Anaxes, you know just how to soothe Wrecker’s lingering back pain.

Pairing: Wrecker x f!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: established relationship, pet names, little bit of angst and comfort, flashback to how Wrecker got his scars, minor mentions of blood, fluff, soft love, light sprinkle of the hots for this giant mans size/strength, slight suggestiveness.

A/N: saw a headcannon that Wrecker doesn’t have a cybernetic eye and is instead partially/fully blind in that eye, and now I can’t get that out of my head.

Translations: ner kar'ta – my heart

“Urgh.” Wrecker’s grunt echoes through the barracks as he flops face-first onto his bunk. You’d just arrived back on Kamino from Anaxes, another successful mission accomplished and a new squad member onboard.

Tech had disappeared off with Echo in search of better armour and weapons for the ARC Trooper. Crosshair had slunk off in the direction of the shooting range – not that he needed the practice - while Hunter had remained on the Marauder, needing the peace of the empty ship to finish his mission reports.

That had left you and Wrecker alone, and your man had wanted nothing more than to nap.

“At least take your armour off first.” You gently nudge Wrecker’s shoulder, earning a grumble of protest. He pushes himself up, big hands prying his armour off his body, depositing it with various clangs beside his bunk. You loved him, but Maker above, he could be messy.

Back on the bed, face pressed into the mattress, Wrecker winced, feeling a tweak in his lower back. “Babe…” He called for you, turning his head to watch you take your armour off, stacking it neatly on the large table in the middle of the room.

His gaze roved across your body, admiring the soft curves of your frame as you turned back to him, hands on your hips and an eyebrow arched. He couldn’t help but feel lucky to have you. You’d started as their civilian handler, feeding them missions and making sure they came back safely – the Kaminoans couldn’t have anything happen to their prized experimental unit, after all – but somewhere along the way, you’d stolen his heart, with your soft smile and easy nature. You laughed at his jokes, stayed up to watch holofilms with him, cooed over Lula the first time you saw her, and were always happy to hand over a detonator or two when he had the urge to blow something up. At times, you tempered the big kid in him, while other times, you let go of the reins and let him run wild.

“Yes, ner kar’ta?” You ask, taking a few steps over to his bunk. For the sake of appearances, you had your own bunk, though it was never used. The rest of the squad knew of your relationship, but it was a well-guarded secret, not wanting to risk the Kaminoans finding out.

As you draw closer, Wrecker drags an arm out from underneath him to gently snag your hand, tugging you in. He’d always been hyper-aware of his size and strength, but he was especially cautious with you. Hurting you was something he never wanted to do, even if it was an accident.

“Think I’ve tweaked my back,” Wrecker admits, offering you a sheepish smile.

You can’t help but smile in return, the corners of your lips curving as your loveable giant gives your hand a soft squeeze. For a moment, you admire him, still in awe that he’s yours. But as usual, a flicker of guilt passes through you as your traitorous eyes slink to the web of scars across half his face, his damaged ear, and the milkiness of his right eye. It was your fault he was partially blind.

You’d only been with the boys a handful of months when you’d missed a tripwire as you’d been pushing forward through a cave, setting off a nearby explosive. You’d been out in the open while the others could duck for cover. Wrecker had decided to protect you, turning you and pressing you to his chest, shielding you from the blast, taking the brunt of it himself. The memory of the dust settling, the blood as you pulled back from his chest and looked up, the panic and fear that had consumed you as you’d taken in the damage he’d sustained right before he passed out... all because you’d forgotten for one moment to look where you were stepping.

He’d been medevaced to a nearby Venator. You’d gone with him, his brothers insisting on it while they finished the mission, knowing it would upset Wrecker if they lost their 100% success rate. Washing his blood off your hands in a small fresher as you waited for news from the medics almost broke you. You’d been so close to handing in your resignation and retreating back to your quiet home planet.

But then he’d woken after surgery, after his brothers had successfully completed the mission and returned, and you’d all been briefed on his condition. His first questions to the medics had been about you – were you safe or hurt? Tears had rolled down your cheeks as the medics had relayed this to you all, Tech subtly pressing a tissue into your hand, and you’d known then in your heart that you could never leave.

“You’re doin’ that thing again,” Wrecker says, having watched a faraway look cross your face. He knew you still struggled with the guilt of his accident. “You’re thinkin’ too much.” He tacks on, gently bringing you down to sit sideways on the edge of his bunk, big arm sliding around your middle. “I don’t blame ya. It was my choice, and I’d do it all again.” He reiterates, pressing a kiss to your body. He said it every time he saw you slipping back into the memory, and he’d keep repeating it until you believed it. 

Pulled back to the present, you offer him a soft smile, one of your hands moving to rub across his broad shoulders. “Sorry, ner kar’ta.” You murmur, focussing instead on the quiet noise of delight falling from his lips as your hands stroke his tense muscles. “Those tri-droids are probably the cause of your back pain.” You comment, watching his eyes flutter shut at your touch, the peacefulness of his expression chasing away the lingering guilt.

“They were stronger than they looked, but I wasn’t gonna let ’em crush the locals.” He comments, feeling himself melt into the mattress the more you rub at his shoulders.

You loved seeing him work, the effortless way he shoved assault tanks around or pried blast doors open, lifting up gunships like they weighed nothing, and how his thick fingers somehow nimbly managed to disarm explosives. “It was hot.” You admit, feeling warmth in your cheeks.

A rumble of laughter leaves him, the deep noise setting off butterflies in your belly, but he winces again as it jostles his back.

“Here.” You shift, gently easing the top of his blacks up. He helps you remove the garment, settling back on the bed as your hands return to his body. Broad shoulders taper down to his narrow waist, scars crisscrossing his warm, tanned skin. Evidence of a lifetime of war.

You get up momentarily, moving silently to your bunk to snag your unscented lotion – constantly aware of Hunter’s senses – and return to Wrecker a moment later. He shifts over, and you sit at his side, squeezing some of the lotion onto your hands. Rubbing them together, you warm them up before you press your hands against his back, dragging them across his body in firm, even strokes.

Wrecker’s moans of appreciation fill the barracks, and you stifle a giggle. Your hands keep working across his body, feeling solid muscles give with every pass, the knots loosening. Pressing your thumbs into his lower back, he grunts, hips rutting against the mattress. “Not until your back is better.” You tease, giving his butt a playful swat.

He grumbles in protest but knows you’re right – he’s too tired for anything anyway. The ache in his back is easing exponentially under your soothing touch, and he smacks his lips together as sleep beckons him, shifting on the mattress into an even comfier position.

The first drag of your nails across his warm skin makes him shiver, the corners of his mouth curving upwards as you start lightly scratching, fingers drawing patterns across the vast expanse of skin. The patterns shift to words, Aurebesh spelling out how much you love him, how handsome he is, how strong he is.

“I love you. You’re so good to me.” He mumbles, feeling the weight of your adoration, his eyes heavy with sleep, his mind struggling to focus on the words you’re scrawling across his body.

A warm smile passes over your lips, and you dip down to kiss his cheek softly. “I love you too.” You whisper back, fingers still moving lightly over his back as you hear his breathing turn deep and heavy, face going slack as he falls asleep.

You scoot to lay beside him, drawing his arm over your body. A nap wouldn’t hurt you, either.

[jasmines-library]

14 years

WHUMPTOBER DAY 16: Prompt: Experiment. Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Torn from your parents at a young age, you were experimented on. Your body and your mind were altered until you no longer recognised yourself in the mirror. During your time with HYDRA, your only solace came in the form of Bucky Barnes' voice on the other side of the wall. That was, until he left. Now, years later you have the chance to meet him again.

Warnings: Human Experimentation, pain, minor mentions of blood and gunshot wounds, brain surgery? kinda.

Word count: 2.2K

Note: I don’t own the art work in the header. This has not mention of skin colour despite the image on the right, I was using it for the cybernetics. My work is for everyone to enjoy :)

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

Darkness. It was all you had known since you were young and torn from your family’s arms. But that was years ago and you had long forgotten that touch could be tender. Since that fateful day, you lived in constant fear of the men who would drag you away from the little relief of sleep you got at night, although it consisted of curling up on a small mattress on the floor. You lived with the fear of waking up again and being forced through another day of poking and prodding in your mind. There was one voice that offered solace. You heard it drift through the vents many times, offering words of comfort. He had been there when you had arrived, soothing you of your nightmares when you woke up in a cold sweat. The voice would disappear for months at a time, until one day it never came back. Your blood ran cold whenever you began to think about what he had done. Part of you was certain that Hydra had done something to him - you knew he was defiant, and more stubborn than you, but all of you hoped that he had gotten himself out of this hellhole. Soon after his absence, without those gentle words drifting from the vents you began to feel less and began to gain control over your abilities. They had told you that emotions clouded your judgement and you had begun to listen without the defiance of your friend. But you supposed, that still wasn’t enough for them. You were never enough. 

As part of your daily routine, you were forced awake at the crack of dawn. This time it was a bucket of icy water. Spluttering, and sitting up abruptly, you groaned when you realised the situation. You hated water; it messed with your cybernetics if it got in the wrong places and wasn’t dried properly, and a malfunctioning cybernetic caused you extreme discomfort; migraines and sharp pains where the metal was connected to your body and to your brain. Sometimes, in extreme cases they could cause seizures or body shut down. One thing you were certain of was that although Hydra were technical geniuses, they had no care about the effects their experiments had on their patients as long as they functioned enough to benefit them. 

Dripping wet and shivering, you pushed yourself up onto your feet and were gripped harshly by the two guards. As they walked you forwards, your bare feet padded across the tiles. They were cold and bit at your skin. You were dragged through the corridors quickly and you tried to figure out where you were going, but everything looked the same in this facility; sickeningly pristine. When you saw the golden doorway, your chest constricted and you tried to push away, but they forced you into the room and towards the chair which sat in the centre of the square room. There were a number of unfamiliar faces dotted around the room, each tending to a laptop. It was the cart of tools next to the chair that caught you by surprise. It was lined with rows of screwdrivers and odd shaped instruments. 

Shoved down unsympathetically you fell into the chair, and the blinds closed seamlessly around your arms. You furrowed your brow when the halo of machinery that sat aloft didn't descend into your face to cause you more pain. Instead a man slid in front of you on a chair. He spoke to you about your cybernetics. You had one that ran around your right temple and down your cheek, it was the one that connected to your eyes and allowed extreme accuracy, as well as the ability to identify anyone in the database- and that was a whole lot of people. You had two more; one which made up the entirety of your knee- that one was accidental. You had sustained it after a gunshot to the knee on a mission. The second was your largest. It was from just above the nape of your neck and down your spine. Many of the nerves in your spine here had been replaced by cybernetics, allowing for complete motor precision and effortlessness when moving. It also ran directly into your brain, altering its pathways to create an advanced way of thinking. Supposedly, this one was a problem. The man told you that when they had created this cybernetic, they had allowed you to feel too much, and this compromised you in missions. They said it was how you ended up with the machinery in your knee. 

“You have to learn to comply.” The man told you bluntly. “And to do that, you must not let pests like the winter soldier interfere. He does not care about you, child. The only people who care about you are Hydra. Remember that. If you cannot learn that on your own then we must teach you a lesson.” 

He reached slowly towards the tools, picking up a screwdriver and a small hand held object that sparked. 

“No…No.” You shook your head. 

He only moved closer, swivelling on the chair until he was positioned behind you. Then, with one swift movement, he began to fiddle with the machinery in the back of your head. You shrieked as the pain shot through your head as the screws were removed, unsettling skin and bone, but then came the agony of the machine as it sparked away, allowing pieces of the cybernetic to be shifted or removed. You clenched your jaw, grinding your teeth together to try and bite away some of the pain. The man continued to work, inching deeper into your brain. It hurt; a thousand agonies at once all trailing through your body. Your muscles twitched as he worked around your brain, alternating your wavelengths and your feelings. Soon, your body began to feel numb. The stabbing dulled down into throbbing and shortly after, you felt nothing at all. 

~~~

Get in without being seen, take out the enemy, get the data, get out. That was the mission. A simple routine mission that hopefully didn’t require you to ambush your way out. You didn’t like to pull the trigger. It was messy and there was an odd feeling that twinged in your stomach when you watched the bodies drop to the floor like a sack of flour. You couldn’t place it, you just knew that it felt wrong. Especially when they were innocent people. They were usually innocent, your cybernetic told you that much. But your programing stated that they were in the wrong place at the wrong time and would therefore compromise the mission and Hydra. 

Sometimes, your mind would think that what you were doing was wrong. Sometimes you stopped what you were doing completely as you fought to keep a grip on a sanity that seemed more natural to you, though wherever you disobeyed, you were strapped to that chair again and experimented with until they made progress in a way that could get you to comply without fault. 

You moved stealthily towards the door; it was heavy and made of metal. You could hear voices behind it, muffled by the thickness of the steel. You could place around three or four, and the sound of keyboards clattering away. 

Reaching into the pocket of your suit, you pulled out a small device. It was round and attached onto the electronic mechanism of the door. Stepping back, you allowed it to work, listening to it whirr away and raising your dual pistols. When the device let out a burst of electricity and the door flung open, a set of heads turned towards you. You saw their names flash across your vision. Names, aliases, records, articles, all sorts of information that you processed and stored within your brain in seconds. It was the dark haired man who’s name failed to show up on your database that made you frown. If he was an avenger, surely Hydra would have something on him. You contemplated for a split second, before remembering your objective. 

Before they had a chance to move, you had released a round or bullets into the room. Most, although accurately placed, ricocheted off of the trained soldiers armour or shields. One however found itself within the shoulder of a redheaded woman. Gunting in discomfort, she dropped, manoeuvring herself around the room to cut you off from the data. You tried to turn, only to collide with a tall blond. You ducked, rolling across the floor to escape his swing. You fired at him, but it was blocked by his circular shield. Turning to move, you came face to face with the woman again, blood dribbling from her shoulder. You backed away, trying to find a gap between the circle they had created around you. And that was when you realised you were trapped. Then, something blunt hit the back of your head.

~~

The first thing you noticed when you awoke was that you weren’t lying on the cold floor. Instead you were chained to a hospital bed by a tight cuff secured just above the hydra insignia they had messily branded into your skin. There were tiny sicker-like pads pressed to your temples, monitoring your brain activity. They made you feel like a child again; helpless with no control. 

 The man who wouldn’t show up on your database was watching you from afar, leaning against the doorway with his metal arm folded over his other. You could see the angry scarring around it under the top he was wearing. It was similar to the ones on your face and your spine. His dark hair fell in front of his eyes and he tilted his head, studying your movements. You tried searching the database again for him, assuming that in the action your cybernetic scanners had failed to pick anything up, but once again his profile came up blank. 

“Who are you?! You asked, furrowing your brow. Too many thoughts raced across your mind. If you were the enemy, why hadn’t they killed you?

The man frowned, inching hesitantly into the room. His moments were precarious as though he was trying not to frighten you. “You don’t remember me?”

That voice… you knew that voice. He had spoken to you before, a long, long time ago. 

“Bucky..?” You queried. There was a name you hadn’t heard in a while. A name you unknowingly had yearned for everyday since he left you.

He smiled at you gently. You weren’t sure how you had really pictured him from the other side of the wall, but you weren’t disappointed. He had this gentle look about him as he watched you, though hidden behind it was a haunted look that only someone who had seen the worst could have. “Yeah Doll. It’s me.”

“You left.”

“I know, doll. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to leave without you but I had no choice.”

You sighed. “Why am I here, Buck? Why didn’t they just shoot me when they had the chance.”

“Because, Barnes is one annoying man.” Another voice chimed in from the doorway. He was an older man with tired eyes. He had a small beard too which sat below the hair above his upper lip. “He thinks that we can help you, like we helped him. Although, I don’t know if you deserve that considering you broke into our home, shot one of our agents and tried to take all of our data. Nat should make a full recovery, by the way.” He added just to jest. 

“Stark-”

“You know I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to get torn apart and pit back together over and over and turned into some weapon. I didn’t ask to be one of their little toys.”

Tony pursed his lips. Hot tears streamed down your face as years of your life replayed on loop in your mind. This feeling was something so foreign to you. You didn’t know how to comprehend it. Bucky faltered as he watched your mind fight itself, as you fought between what felt right and what you were told was right.

“Fourteen years. Fourteen years of pain and loneliness. Fourteen years of my life that I will never get back because they were spent being forced to do things that I never asked to do.”

Tony pondered for a moment, gaze lingering on Bucky. He saw how tender he was with you. He knew that Barnes could sympathise with you better than anyone could. They had given him a chance, so why were you any different?

“Call T'Challa.Tell him we need his help.”

Bucky beamed. After quickly reassuring you that he would be back shortly after your protests, he began to make his way down the hall, with a skip in his step. He couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you were going to get help. They were going to remove your programming, and you would be stripped of the confinement that Hydra had wrapped tightly around you like a boa constrictor. He knew that it would take time and effort, pain and trust, but he was willing to stand beside you for it all because he knew that slowly but surely, you would realise that you were safe. Slowly but surely, you would become you again. 

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY 15 ⛤ DAY 17 ->

Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

Note: I was listening to the song 14 years but guns n roses whilst I wrote this :)

[mr-bas00nist]

Snake x NB AMAB reader idea. Reader completes their first mission and Snake rewards them with his mouth. 😉

LOVE THIS.

Rookies Reward

Venom Snake x AMAB! Reader

CW: Blowjob and praise kink

You were just returning from your first mission for Diamond Dogs. It was a surreal experience, intense indeed. But, it was your first time and it was incredibly successful. You came out with barely a scratch on yourself. The helicopter landed and you hopped out of it quickly. The nylon seats were rough and unpleasant to sit in but they remained you, you were alive.

You let out a heavy sigh as you walked back to your barracks to shower all the dirt and grime off yourself. The sound of distant chatter and the oceans crashing waves was pleasant and it did a great job of grounding you. You opened the door of your barracks as you went to the shower. You turned the hot water all the way on as you showered, relishing in the feeling of hot water soaking your tense and sore muscles.

A knock on your door caught your attention. “Hey, rookie, you in there?” You heard Miller’s voice. A voice you couldn’t get out of your head due to its uniqueness. “Uh, yeah sir, what’s up?”

You turned the shower off as you put a towel around your waist. “Snake wants to meet with you, head down to his office when you’re done in the shower.” Miller spoke in his stern tone. A bit of fear tingled up your spine, was your performance not good enough? “Uh, yes sir..” you spoke nervously.

You heard his footsteps leave the front of the bathroom door as you let out a sigh you didn’t know you were holding in. You quickly dried your body off as you put your ‘around base’ uniform on to go meet with snake. A few of your comrades waved and said hellos but you couldn’t bother to respond. You were too nervous at what snake was going to say.

You made it to his door as you took a shaky deep breath before knocking. “Come in.” You heard him speak. You opened the door. “You wanted to speak to me sir?” You asked pointing to yourself, he didn’t look up from his paperwork. “Close the door rookie.” He spoke sternly, your lips tightened as you closed the door behind you. Your took a seat in the chair in front of him.

He set his pen down as he looked into your eyes. Your own gaze darted around the room uncomfortable from the intense eye contact. “Your performance on the mission was impeccable.” He spoke with his usual monotone voice. You paused glancing up to him with a soft smile. “Really?” He nodded standing up moving a bit closer. “It’s been awhile since a rookie has done such a good job like you have on a first mission.”

He spoke looking down at you. You felt your skin get warm at the praise as you smiled awkwardly. “Just doing my job sir…” you spoke with a slight laugh. “You did your job but you also exceeded expectations.” He spoke moving even closer. “That doesn’t go unnoticed private, I can assure you.” You shivered as you felt him closer.

He got on his knees as he put his palm on your thigh. “I want to reward you. For being such a good boy.” He praised, your body had a different reaction though. You felt blood rush to your dick as you hardened in your cargo pants. He glanced down to see your growing bulge. He hummed in amusement as he gripped the zipper of your pants.

He pulled it down as he observed the wet spot on your boxers. He looked up at you, a silent ask. You nodded quickly as he reached in pulling your hardening cock out. His eyes were glazed as he stared at your cock. Your hips bucked as you felt his hand touching your cock. He began to slowly stroke your hot flesh.

You let out a heavy groan as you hit your lip. Once he got you fully hard he gave an experimental lick to the tip. “Aren’t you a big boy..” he praised as he admired your cock for a moment. His warm mouth enveloped the tip of your dick as you let out a loud moan. Your hand crashed over your mouth. You heard him let out a little laugh as he sucked your sensitive tip.

He began to get more ambitious, swallowing more and more of your cock. He began to deepthroat you with surprising ease. It made you wonder how the hell he was so good at sucking dick. He looked up at you with his pretty crystal blue eye as he put his attention back on your cock. You continued to cover your mouth not wanting to alert any passersby’s.

You gripped his brown hair as you bucked your hips making him gag around your cock. You began to twitch in his mouth, a familiar coil building up in your stomach as you gripped his hair a bit harder. He pulled off continuing to stroke you. “Close?” He asked breathlessly.

You nodded furiously. He hummed as he dived back down, sucking and licking each sensitive spot of yours he could. Your grunts and groans began to increase in volume as you arched your back. “Cumming-“ you let out a strangled moan as you shoved his head down on your cock as far as it could go.

He choked on you as he teared up a bit. After he swallowed he pulled off with a breath. You panted as you admired him. “T-t-thank you sir….” You spoke tiredly. Your legs felt heavy and you could barely move. He gave a soft smile as he put your dick back in your pants. He stood up dusting himself off as he gave a pat to your shoulder.

“Nice job rookie, really.” He spoke before walking away closing the door behind him.

[tigertofu]

HIIII IM LITERALLY OBSESSED W YOUR WORK LIKE OMFG KEEP IT UP <3 Can you write trevor x shy! chubby/fat reader smut 😼

hi hiiii !! i could not have asked for a better first nsfw request than this one 😭😭 i had SO MUCH fun with this prompt........ trevor/shy, chubby girl is licherally my specialty so tysm for sending it in 💕💕💕!

i have got to start remembering to add gifs to these posts......

pairing: chubby and shy fem reader/Trevor

summary: One night, the raunchy pickup lines of a strange man lure you from the bar you two met in to his trailer. Your nerves make your attempt at hooking up a bit difficult at first, but he knows just how to put your mind at ease.

cw's: explicit smut

wordcount: 2,747

ao3 link

“C’mon, sugar. Don’t get shy on me now.”

Your eyes darted up to meet those of the man who’s lips you’d just unlocked your own from. But even in the dim of his cluttered room, you couldn’t meet his gaze. It was so intense it felt like it would burn straight through your retinas. 

“S–Sorry,” you muttered, staring at the cover of a porn mag on his crumpled comforter. A blonde woman in a red bikini, her long limbs perfectly posed, her stomach flat beneath the hint of ribcage under her impossibly round, perky breasts, graced the cover. The apprehension in your stomach quitched. You wondered if, despite Trevor’s interest in getting you out of the Yellow Jack and into his trailer the moment you acquiesced to his raunchy pickup lines, that was the type of woman he was into.

He groaned beside you. Flopped down with his back against the headboard of his bed.

“And stop fucking apologizing,” he said, tugging at the back of your shirt. You relented and scooted yourself back to sit beside him. 

You knew the “sorry”’s were getting repetitive at this point. You’d squeaked one when you’d tripped over an empty pizza box on the way to his bed and caught yourself against him. You’d murmured another when you’d miscalculated which way to tilt your head when he’d first gone in for a kiss, causing the tips of your noses to bump against each other. 

“I’m—” Your sentence got cut off by him reaching over to fondle one of your breasts. The warmth of his calloused palm seeped through your shirt and bra. Your nipple, which had perked up to attention the second his mouth had come down on yours a few minutes earlier, rolled beneath his hand. You made a whimpering sound in the back of your throat before refinding the strength to breathe out: “I–I’m just kinda nervous is all.”

“Nervous? Why?” He cupped your tit from below now, lifting it away from your chest, feeling out its weight and the way the soft flesh conformed to his hand. “You scared? ‘Cuz I promise I’m not gonna hurtcha, sweetheart. Unless you want me to. Orrr… Maybe you’d wanna hurt me? I’m always down for any of that kinky shit.”

“I–I don’t know why,” you huffed. As you spoke, Trevor’s free hand snaked its way to your thigh. He gave it an experimental squeeze. “I just am.”

But you did know why. It was the same type of shyness that dewed your forehead with sweat and cinched your vocal chords shut, making your words shaky, whenever you found yourself in an intimate situation. Anxiety that you’d do or say something awkward. That your partner wouldn’t like what they found underneath your clothes. It had increased tenfold the usual tonight though, because you’d found yourself here, in the bed of a man with years more experience than you, who you’d already sensed had a hair–trigger temper.

Trevor didn’t catch onto your lie, thankfully. 

The hand on your thigh nudged upwards, leveraging your legs apart by a few inches. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he cooed against the side of your head. His breath, malty with the half dozen beers he’d drank at the Yellow Jack while trying to woo you, curled warm against the shell of your ear. “Just relax… Relax and let Uncle T take care of ya.”

The nickname made your stomach roll over itself. In a bad way or a good way, you couldn’t be sure. Maybe both. What you were sure of, was that the moment Trevor finished with undoing the zipper of your jeans, he would find a pair of panties that’d already been soaked through with excitement. 

A rolling growl came out of him when he made this little discovery. 

“Nervous but wet as hell,” he said, clearly proud of himself for eliciting this reaction. 

He squeezed your sex, testing the plushness of the area. The wetness spread underneath the cotton of your panties. You let out an airy moan. 

With one hand still shoved down your pants, he moved to tug at the neckline of your shirt with his other. 

“How about we get all these pesky clothes off, eh?” he crooned.

“W–Wait,” you suddenly cried, grabbing his wrist. 

He jerked his head away from its spot beside yours. Flashed you an annoyed glare. You swallowed. 

“I… Can I… I–Is it okay if I keep my shirt on?” 

Trevor guffawed with sheer disbelief, as if you’d just told him to forget all the flirting and the brief makeout session you’d already shared, you’d actually changed your mind about fucking and would rather just watch a movie together.

“Why the fuck would you wanna do that?” he asked gruffly. “C’mon. I wanna see those tits bounce while I’m fucking you.”

“I’m…” Worried you won’t find me attractive. Worried you’ll say something mean. Worried you’ll change your mind about doing this. “…Nervous.”

He continued his confused glare. You ducked your head down, staring again at the porn magazine by your foot. A painful, silent minute spun out. Then, Trevor clicked his tongue against his teeth. 

“Listen to me. You are sexy as hell. You know that?” he said, his voice more low and even than it’d been a moment ago. You felt a bit embarrassed that he’d caught on to your need for validation, but overwhelmingly glad that he was freely giving it.  “The, ah, ancient peoples… Greeks or Romans or whatever… They used to make statues of Venus—y’know, the goddess of fucking—with your type of figure.”

You glanced up at him. “Really?”

“They sure as shit did. Know why? ‘Cuz they had good taste. They knew that the more a woman has, the more there is to love.” He grabbed at your tits again, this time manhandling as much as he could with just one hand. “I mean—look at these puppies! And you’re so fucking soft… All over. Christ. I could just eat you right up, sugar.”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, feeling your cheeks warm. Nobody had ever complimented you like this before. It felt good. It felt genuine.

It didn’t feel quite good enough to quell your shyness, though.

You bowed your head again and watched your hands worry at the hem of your shirt. Trevor let out a harsh sigh as you retreated back into yourself.

Suddenly, he let go of you and clambered out of bed. You looked up and watched as he stumbled over the same pizza box you had earlier, which made you giggle a bit. The giggle stopped when he reached for the fly of his jeans the second he was on his feet and, in one hard yank, pulled them and his briefs down. Your head snapped back to the familiar sight of your own lap. There was a moment of clothing rustling as he stripped himself.

“Look at me,” he said firmly once he was finished.

By the sound of his voice, you expected to see another glare pinching his features when you followed his command. But he was actually smirking. You tried to keep your eyes pinned to his, but they were far too intense and you were far too flustered. So, you let your gaze schlep down his bare body as he stood before you, restlessly shifting his weight from one foot to the other, his arms outspread in presentation. 

Your attention caught on certain parts. His broad chest covered in a smattering of dark hair. The hard muscle filling out his shoulders. The way his waist tapered slightly inwards. A couple–inch–long scar just below his left ribs. His lean but not entirely flat stomach. The trail of hair that started just above his navel and ran down to—

You flicked your attention back up, settling on the ridge of his collarbone.

“Your turn now, princess,” he purred. “Don’t you know it’s weird to be the only fully–dressed person in a room?”

You looked him in the face and gave him a smile now.

“I… Well. O–Okay.” You added, a bit more demurely: “If you help me.”

“Atta girl,” he muttered, stepping up to the edge of the bed again. 

He grabbed at the hem of your shirt and tugged up, encouraging you to straighten your arms over your head. 

Being undressed by him was oddly comforting. The way he struggled with unclasping your bra and unzipping your jeans, growling curses at himself as his fingers slipped in his excitement, made you feel wanted. Desired. Needed. He grabbed random palmfuls of the softest parts of your body as he went, kneading them with shaky appreciation. 

After he’d hooked his thumbs under the waistband of your panties and pulled them down and off of your legs, he paused for a moment. Standing over you as you sat on the edge of his bed, he drank in the full sight of your naked body. His dilated pupils jittered as they traced your soft curves.

“Look at you.” There was hunger in his voice, the corners of his mouth rising into another predatory smirk. You closed your eyes and tilted your chin to your chest, bashfully smiling. “Even fucking better than I imagined.”

A hand cupped your chin. Your head was thrown back and suddenly, his mouth was on yours again. 

He shoved his tongue against yours. Breathless groaning leaked out from between his lips. You tasted them; drank in his desperate exhales and the bitterness of smoked cigarettes and downed beers and burned crystal. Part of you knew you should be disgusted. The other part, which was quickly ballooning into not just a part but a whole, told you to enjoy this—to enjoy all of him as he was enjoying all of you.

Before you knew it, you were on your back. He hunched over you, his broad silhouette blocking the weak light of the bare bulb hung from his ceiling. As he got closer, bending further, you felt something hot and hard and slick bump against one of your knees. You reached out blindly as you continued to kiss him, feeling for his erection. Your hand instinctively wrapped around it the moment your fingertips brushed against its head. Heavy and solid and wrapped with surprisingly soft skin, his cock completely filled your palm. You found that it was quite short, too, as you began to lazily pump it. Didn’t matter. Your fingers couldn’t even close all the way around him, he was so thick. A throb that felt both tightening and loosening at once travelled through your sex when you thought about just how far he would stretch you out. 

Trevor hissed against your mouth, his frame suddenly drawing up tight. He bit at your bottom lip; tugged at it and growled around it.

“Fuck the foreplay. I think we’re both plenty ready.”

You murmured an affirmative sound against his lips, and he straightened himself up from you.

This time, you shamelessly admired his whole body as he moved to his bedside table and rummaged around in its drawer for a condom. A trickle of precum had leaked from the bulbous, red tip of his cock. There was a slight curve to his erection that you knew would press against that sweet spot tucked up inside of you just perfectly. It twitched against his fingers as he shakily rolled a condom down its length. 

When he turned to you, he was grinning again. Your lower abdomen felt like it’d been turned to liquid. And as he grabbed you by the hips and yanked your ass to the very edge of his bed, spreading your thighs for himself, you felt that liquid seep from you. You briefly wondered if you’d ever been wetter; quickly decided you hadn’t. 

Trevor reached down between the two of you to guide his cock. You felt him bump up against your sex. He made a few jerking passes up and down your slit, teasing you, nudging maddeningly briefly up against your throbbing clit before going back down to press against your entrance. 

Your mouth dropped open when he finally eased his cock into your pussy. As your body stretched to accommodate him, pain bloomed deep inside you. He buckled forward, planting his hands outside your shoulders. You watched him wince and felt yourself grimacing, as well.

“Fuck,” he hissed through grit teeth. “You’re so fucking tight.”

You tried to say that no, maybe he was just big, but then he canted hips further, fully sheathing himself with a quiet squelch. Your words turned into a mewl. He chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… Thaaat’s it, sugar,” he breathed, straightening himself up again and yanking you even closer to him by your hips, until you could feel his balls pressing warm and soft against your ass. “Make those pretty little sounds for me.”

And then he was fucking you. And it was good. Really good. So good that even if you didn’t want to make “pretty little sounds for him,” they would’ve involuntarily bubbled up out of you anyways.

Every thrust of his hips sent a burst of achey pleasure coursing through your insides. He was so close—perfectly painfully, utterly pleasurably close—to being too thick for you to handle, and yet the generous slick your sex had sopped itself with made it easy for him to piston in and out of you. Each jab into you knocked a grunt from his scarred, parted lips and a wet whimper from your own. 

His pace quickly became messy. Faster. Jagged. You clutched at the threadbare comforter beneath you. Watched, and adored, the faint ripple of hidden muscle flexing and unflexing beneath the fat of his stomach as he fucked you while he watched every tantalizing bounce of your breasts. The heady scent of sex quickly filled the room, mingling with the wet sounds of your bodies smacking against each other, making your head swim.

Just a minute into it, Trevor suddenly drove forward as far as he could. You let out a keening moan as you felt him fully bury himself inside of you, your core on the verge of completely melting down from the sheer goodness of being so incredibly full of him.

“You look so fucking good at the end of my boy,” Trevor growled, moving his hands from the bed to your tits. He greedily filled each hand with one, your plush skin overflowing from the spaces between his fingers. “Like a fucking dream, baby. Shit, shit, shit, I–I love you. I love you so, so fucking much.”

His voice warbled over the sentiment. He began to thrust again, going hard, his movements shallow but primal, keeping his cock almost entirely buried inside of you. Itching, hot tension moved through your guts. You threw your head back. Reached out and grabbed at his forearms as his hold on your breasts turned crazed and almost painful. Felt the hard muscle under his scar–spattered skin as he held onto you and you onto him. 

As quickly as it’d appeared, the tension inside of you mounted up. Every swing of his hips, every huffed breath, every gravelly groan, inched you closer and closer to a climax that was approaching with reckless abandon. 

“Trevor,” you managed to gasp out. “I–I’m gonna cum.”

“Good, good, g–good girl,” Trevor rasped above you. “C’mon, c’mon. Cum for me; cum all over that dick, sweetness.”

The tension swirled and condensed, cinching up every aching muscle of your pussy. With one drawn–out moan, Trevor thrust into you as deep as he could once more and you came completely undone.

Climax ripped through you. Your back, damp with sweat, arched off the bed. Static burst behind your closed eyes. Your pussy clenched and unclenched around his cock with the strength of a coiled spring shooting out then being pressed down again, over and over. In the white–hot haze of orgasm, you didn’t even notice that Trevor had stopped his thrusting until you felt his cock begin to pulsate right against your sweet spot, milked by the fluttering walls of your sex. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you!” he whined.

He collapsed atop you once he was finished.

The two of you raced to catch your breaths. For how long, you didn’t know. All you knew was that, with his chest pressed against yours, the sweat of his skin mingling with yours and his cock slowly going soft inside of you, you felt more satisfied than you ever had before.

[ilexdiapason]

(part one here) (part four here)

Oli doesn't try to broach the subject again until the pizza is delivered and the ice cube is a soaked-up puddle in a napkin on the coffee table.

When he does, though, it's with his hands in his lap and his best efforts to not sound like a scolding teacher. "You wanna tell me what that was about?"

Martyn, in lieu of answering, pulls open the pizza box and wiggles a slice free from the still-stringing cheese. His fingertips bounce it between them, ginger; he bites down and clearly regrets it. Still, he chews, mouth caught in a conflict between ventilating the heat and keeping his secrets sealed tight shut behind it.

"Come on," Oli continues, gentle as he can push it. "I can't help you if I don't know what the problem is."

Martyn swallows. He looks like he's deliberating.

He must decide, whatever the stakes of this crisis are, that Oli's worth it, because he does reply.

"You know," he says, quiet, "I wasn't kidding when I said you should keep your computer away from me."

"Do you want me to take it upstairs?"

"I mean - bit late now. But yeah, that'd probably help."

So he probably has the conviction that something, somebody, is listening in through the machine. That's understandable; if whatever his situation was involved him being able to join some random strangers' games, he probably had a computer, and it was probably monitored, which would explain why he's so terrified of being tracked. It makes about as much sense as anything else in this exchange does. 

Even if it didn't, though, Oli still would have taken his laptop back upstairs, tapped out a quick notice that he'd be unavailable for the rest of the day, and tossed it on his bed - and his phone beside it, after a moment's thought. Martyn's comfort is what really matters here.

"There we are," he says on his way back in, "the highest-tech thing in the room now is probably the microwave."

Martyn offers him a thin smile, which feels more like progress than anything else.

"Right." He sits back down, takes his own piece of pizza (which by now is a far more edible temperature than it must have been when Martyn tried it), and gets the whole thing down before he takes another shot. "You want to start, or shall I?"

Martyn exhales amusement. "Go on then. Tell me what you know."

"Not a lot," Oli admits, "apparently. You don't make a lot of sense. You fell out of the sky, you still seem fairly surprised that things are real, you didn't know we’d been playing Minecraft - and you were calling me CHEST agent, which isn't a job title my company offers, as far as I'm aware. What, were you born in a video game?"

"I told you I was born in Nottingham."

"That might have been a cover story!"

"Nah. Wouldn't lie about that. I am a real boy, Gepetto, you can believe me on that one."

"Well, there's one thing I know for sure about you," Oli says. "All this talk of being in there, though. I don't know. VR?"

"Something like. You -" he hushes his voice, even though it's the middle of the afternoon and the neighbours won't be home "- you're, like, a normal CHEST employee, then? Front end stuff?"

"Yeah. I told you, I'm a software dev. If it's a front, I'm not in on the secret."

"God," says Martyn, "okay, so you're still not safe, but… okay, telling you this now, you're not getting the whole truth. But your company sucks and you should quit your job."

"Sucks like questionable QA policies or sucks like torturing teenagers in the basement?"

"I - shit," says Martyn, "a lot of those agents might have been folks like me, huh. Damn. Least I never killed anyone."

"I seem to remember you being pretty handy with a knife."

"Yeah, 'cause none of that was real, I was a bloody rat in a maid dress. You can't be on at me for killing people there."

"Suppose Jimmy killed the gardener."

"Exactly!"

"So, what, CHESTCorp have figured out how to turn VR into R, and you got caught up in it?"

"Not CHEST," Martyn takes another go at his slice of pizza, "just Doc. It's real experimental stuff. You're lookin' at test subject number one, I'm pretty sure."

"And now that you're not a test subject any more," he finishes, "you're having trouble readjusting."

"I guess. It's just… y'know, like, it's nice to be back, but… weird. Incredibly weird."

"Two and a half years would do it," Oli nods.

They take another lull to properly eat. Oli hadn't realised before this how starving he is; he would have thrown something together from the groceries he'd picked up if he hadn't had a guest to entertain. Martyn, too, seems fairly intent on ingesting an entire pizza by himself. His mother’s voice sounds inside his head, urging him to slow down, but Oli ignores it. If Martyn ends up with stomach problems it’ll just be another stark reminder that he’s not… trapped in a virtual reality simulator, he supposes.

“So, er,” he picks back up, once they’ve cleared the wedges and made more than a dent in the pizza, “what now?”

“Hmm?”

“You’ve gone through all that. Nobody’s going to believe you, I assume, if this stuff’s as top-secret as it seems to be.”

“Kinda thing you’d need a two-hour primer with your therapist for,” Martyn nods, “and a lot of faith in doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“But, what, do you just… go home?”

“I’d like to,” he says. “I would really, really just like things to go back to normal.”

There’s a silence. But they can’t rings clear as a bell in the air between them anyway.

Martyn looks down at the last three slices of pizza. “You should take me home.”

“You’re sure?”

He swallows. “Yeah. I’ll just… I’ll be a big surprise for my parents when they get back home from work. And then I’ll add you guys on Discord, and hopefully we’ll be able to talk more on there?”

“Hopefully,” says Oli, meaning it more than anything. His entire life’s been pretty much flipped on its head by this encounter. “We’re always wondering about you, y’know. Or, I mean, I am. Owen probably thinks you’re there from Apo, Apo probably thinks you’re there from Owen, all that, but… Hard not to wonder who the hell you really were, when you would never act like it was actually a game.”

“I mean, it’s all a game, isn’t it, really?” Martyn muses, half-distant. “Just in the long dream now.”

“Is that from the End Poem?”

“Is it?”

Oli shakes his head. No time for all that. “So I’m driving you back to Nottingham, and… you’ll DM me when you can?”

“Yeah.”

It’s the best he can ask for.

Martyn refuses to tell Oli his exact address, just asks him to drive close enough that Martyn can walk the rest of the way home. It’s understandable - a CHESTCorp employee knowing Martyn’s exact location is, apparently, an incredibly dangerous thing - but still a little concerning. He’d at least like to be sure that Martyn won’t be getting poached back by this Doc guy at the earliest notice. Still, Martyn’s comfort remains the most important thing, and so he leaves his Google Maps at home.

It’s a bit of an autopilot drive, even without directions. Oli feels the wheel under his fingers, the pedals under his feet, like they’re abstracts. He looks over once or twice and sees Martyn glued to the window, to the mirrors, hypervigilant; he hopes that Martyn feels a little more real now than he did before.

They’re idle at a semi-populated roundabout when Martyn straightens his back. “Second exit, then pull over,” he announces.

“Almost there?”

“Pretty close.”

Oli obliges.

Martyn, with just the barest tremor in his fingers, pops the car door and steps out.

“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?”

The words leave Oli’s mouth in a rush, the emotion behind them probably more visceral than Martyn is expecting, if the way he startles at them is any indication.

“Because - ‘cause if you need a hotel, or cash, or -”

“No,” says Martyn, “no, I’m fine. Promise.”

He hesitates, hand on the open car door, a few more seconds.

“And thanks,” he finishes, “I don’t - I’m not - I don’t know. Appreciate it.”

Oli understands what he’s getting at. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Nah, I’m gonna throw myself right in the Trent when you’re gone,” Martyn smiles, and Oli dutifully ignores the crack in his voice. Blame it on the last vestiges of teenagehood.

“And if you do end up needing to - I suppose erase all traces of your old life online… then it’s been an honour.”

“Yeah.”

“... Good luck.”

“Talk to you later,” Martyn says, and slams the car door closed.

All Oli can do, once he’s ambled out of eyeshot, is mechanically drive back home.

So that was InTheLittleWood. Friend group cryptid, unethical experiment, man with more trauma than Oli could ever begin to help him deal with… but man he was able to feed, and house, and walk through an emotional response, which is better than nothing at all. The one person in the world who Oli could almost hit with his car and have that be a better situation than the one he’d just escaped from. Still a mystery, too; he’s left Oli with far more questions than answers, left him returning to an empty house and wishing he’d been selfish enough to make Martyn stay a little longer, talk a little more.

Oli picks up his phone where he’d tossed it in the bedroom.

He has one new email to his work address.

Human Resources 3:04 PM

to me ˅

Subject: Performance Review

Dear Oliver,

You have been scheduled for a performance review. You are required to report to our Shoreditch location by 09:00 tomorrow, Tuesday December 12th. Failure to comply with this request will result in disciplinary proceedings, which may lead to your subsequent termination.

Regards,

Dan

Human Resources

CHESTCorp UK

Ah.

That’s… well.

The word termination is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that threat.

… Okay, so they’re working to a deadline now. That’s fine. He can deal with that. Martyn’s been dealing with far worse, right?

The friend request, at least, flips through from pending to accepted.

TheOrionSound — Today at 16:14

[Attachment: Screenshot_20231025_161408.png]

InTheLittleWood — Today at 16:14

Shit.

(end! now on ao3, if you’d like to leave a comment slash kudos slash bookmark!)

[darkmasterofcupcakes]

In hazbin hotel, being Gay has no bearings on going to Hell or Heaven (the "vile and blasphemous" line was because Charlie is Lucifer's daughter) , so I don't think Vaggie would feel too weird about being attracted to women, especially once more openly gay, Trans etc people arrive.

For the first century and some of her life? Sure.

But I think she would be accepting of it in the last 80-90 years of her time in heaven, especially since the Sisterhood of the Exorcists is promoting a very violent mindset and killing sinners in secrets, it leave little room for interactions outside of the group, cue experimentations.

Also, considering how Agatha annoyed Lute for not being "proper" regarding the "out of wedlock baby" and single mom status, I think it would fuel her desire to accept Vaggie's gayness.

I can even see Lute appreciate how it can make Vaggie feel more like a part of the group on the more pragmatic side, or at least use it as an argument for people who are bothering her on it and that she won't just ignore or scare into silence.

I never really thought about that, but you do have a point. I think a lot of people assume Lute is homophobic (and maybe she is) because of her line about Charlie and Vaggie's relationship, and well as one of the comments about Angel in her solo during "You Didn't Know" but you could argue that, like you pointed out, her issue with Charlie and Vaggie dating could be more based on Charlie's status as a demon/Lucifer's daughter than them both being women. And the thing with Angel could just be a commentary on him being so willing to have what is implied to be casual sex in general, regardless of the gender of his partners. Obviously those are still not good views to have, but they are possibly alternatives.

I do think that Vaggie would still struggle a bit for a while, though part of it would be her just kind of making the wrong assumptions regarding why her mother was essentially judged behind her back? At least when she was young. Because she heard occasional whispers (and the one time she asked about her grandmother and why she'd never met her, Lute did explain that Agatha didn't like the fact that Lute wasn't married to Vaggie's father) where people would say pretty insulting things about her mother when Lute herself wasn't there to hear, regarding the fact that she wasn't even in an official relationship with, much less married to, Vaggie's father. And young Vaggie initially made the wrong assumption that the issue was more about the fact that her mother wasn't in relationship with a man, period, rather than the truth, which is that the issue was that Lute was an unwed single mother by choice.

But Vaggie did likely figure it out more as she got older and especially after officially joining the Exorcists....at least in part due to the reasons you pointed out. With how secretive the Exorcists are supposed to be, while it's probably not impossible that some of them have partners outside of the group who just are told cover stories for what they do for work and/or what they're doing when they're gone during Extermination Day, a lot of them likely just have relationships among each other to avoid any of that. And in my AU at least, while Charlie was Vaggie's first serious girlfriend, I will say her first kind of trying out a relationship with anyone was likely with another Exorcists, probably one who joined around the same time she did. She likely did still feel weird about it for a while, and didn't fully realize she was a lesbian until a fair bit later.

Lute likely was more accepting of Vaggie's sexuality than some might expect, partially out of spite regarding how hurt she was at how her own parents, especially her mother, who she had been very close to before Vaggie was born, basically cut her out of their lives for her decision to raise Vaggie on her own. So while she obviously couldn't be as accepting as she wanted to tell herself she would be - she does still find the relationship between Vaggie and Charlie shameful, sadly - she is fully accepting of her daughter being gay. Also helps that I might actually headcanon Lute as not actually being straight, but rather gray-ace or demi - she's pretty much only interested in Adam in regards to sex or romance (though the romance part even she's in denial about).

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood ( Part 38)

Tera was screaming.

It was louder, more primal, more concerning then any sound either parent had ever heard in their life, and it was all coming from the crib, where she was kicking and flailing, throwing off blankets and sounding much more like a banshee then anything else.

Uzi was there at the crib first, sprinting out of the living room where her and N had been chatting (cuddling) on the couch, though N was right behind her, both parents with hollow eyelights, they had just put her down for a nap, and there was no reason why she'd be this upset.

She had never been this upset before.

“Hey. Hey. Tera, what's wrong?” Uzi attempted to pick her up, only for her hand to get kicked away by the irate toddler, hard enough it made her rub her hand.

Tera continued to wail.

N was next, fighting through the flailing limbs to pick up his daughter, tears stained the inside of her visor, and she continued to kick wildly.

“Whats wrong with her?!” N shouted above the noise that was making his core hurt, had they not given her enough attention? Was she in pain in some way?

“I don't know!” Uzi yelled back, N brought her up to his chest, something instinctual, and although she kicked him breifly, the introduction of the heat from his core seemed to calm her down a little bit, ceasing her kicking but still crying loudly.

He brought a finger down to check her temperature, even if he could sense it already and it was fine, well… not as cool as the other workers, but well within his daughters normal temperature at least.

And then, she stuck it in her mouth, her crying almost immediately stopping as N felt her tiny-flat teeth scrape against the casing of his finger, he blinked.

“Do… Do drone toddlers teethe?”

“Uh, no. No they don't.” Uzi replied back, removing from the minor overload to her audio receptors, she looked to where Tera was still sucking on N's finger, as well as small experimental nibbles taken in between.

“Right… what do we do now?” Uzi asked, watching curiously, while it wasn't common, some toddlers would want to test things out with their mouths, but it wasn't typically enough to upset them to screaming.

“Give her something safe to put in her mouth?” N suggested.

“Like?”

“Humans have pacifers.” He vaguely recalled seeing some of the guests at the manor with their babies, most of then sucking on a carved peice of rubber to keep them quiet.

Not that he wanted Tera to adhere to the “Be seen, not heard” rule, but it was rather obvious she wanted something in her mouth.

Uzi thought for a moment before she ran off into her workshop, leaving N to stand awkwardly as he continued to lend his finger to be used as a chew toy, it didn't hurt, Tera's teeth were flat like any other worker drone, not pointed like his or Uzi's.

Uzi returned after about an hour, while N had just sat on the bed and allowed Tera to do whatever she wanted to his finger, he almost fell asleep, and nearly jumped when Uzi flung herself into the room, holding… something.

“What's that?”

She held it up, it was black, made from rubber and silicone, similar in shape to a pacifier only without the handle, instead in was dual sided.

“Chew toy! I had some extra material in my workshop, I'm not sure why she wants to, but it's better than you sacrificing a finger.”

N removed his finger, causing Tera to immediately look upset again, her eyelights creasing and gritted teeth, Thad was right, he was certain he'd seen that look before on his girlfriends face.

Uzi handed her the little toy, which she couldn't really hold on her own, but that didn't matter, her mouth found the tip and she giggled through it, nibbling at it.

“There we go.” N hummed, and Tera proceeded to produce a series of happy trills and chirps, leaning back into her father's lap and enjoying her new toy. Arms clumsily flapping up and down as she got what she'd wanted.

“Well… at least she wasn't overheating.” Uzi sighed, sitting in front of her boyfriend on the bed and grabbing her little gremlin by the hands, lifting them up and down as Tera laughed through the toy in her mouth.

“How much oil is she taking now?” N asked, while he knew she was still being fed, and had fed her some himself, he had unfortunately a seriously awful record of keeping track of how much oil she was going through.

“Way above normal for a toddler, so whatever her overheating issue is, it's ingrained in her software.” Uzi replied, a sad lit to her voice.

“That's… not the best outcome.” He murmured.

“No, but we knew that was possible when we got into this. She'll just need oil, like us.” Uzi's smile was soft, reassuring although a little worried herself.

He could barely believe she was still only 18.

“As much as us or less?” He asked, adjusting as Tera fell over, although still chomping on her toy, her eyelight were dimming however, she would fall asleep soon enough.

“I mean less then you, I don't know how you lived so long with how much oil you need weekly.” Uzi half- teased.

“I got good at rationing.”

“Still, and she probably won't need as much as me either, but we'll see.” Uzi leaned back, looking out the bedroom door as she rested her head on her hand, N tilted his head, but before he could ask if she was alright, she asked him something instead.

“Are you alright?”

“What? Yeah why wouldn't I be?” He asked, slightly smiling, there was nothing wrong, why would their be?

“That night where you woke up, and told me… about J.”

Oh

That.

That had been about a week ago now, he was fine, it had just been a fluke, the nightmare had caught him off guard is all, he wasn't even thinking about it anymore. He lied to himself.

“Yeah, I'm okay. Honest, it's… it's not that big of a deal.” He tried to brush it off, to sweep it underneath the rug so that he hopefully wouldn't think about it anymore, instead, Uzi have him a glare that sent alarm bells of in his head.

He'd said something wrong.

“It is a big deal! You- you were violated! No one, I don't care who, should ever touch you like that.” Her voice was raised, clearly angry although not as much at him as what happened to him.

“I mean. I know.” He paused for a moment “It's not like I thought it was- like normal or anything. I knew it was bad.”

“But… if I didn't… take it. What was stopping her from going after V?” He asked, thinking back to his mindset at the time, he had been the worst hunter, the lowest on the totem pole, he made mistakes constantly.

Didn't he deserve at least some of it?

“V would have put J in her place, do you honestly think V wouldn't have ripped her to peices if she'd tried?” She replied, likely referencing V's penchance for violence.

“V would have done whatever J asked of her. Regardless of what it was. J was our leader, disobeying her would have been against our programing.” He solemnly explained, he didn't know much about how he, and his squadmates were programmed, but what de did know he'd figured out through experience.

“But… you did. You helped me take her down.” She pointed out, still a bit confused.

“I think that virus she got me with broke whatever code that was doing it, but before that… we both had to do whatever she said.” He finished, and quickly Uzi's mind took that and ran, directly into something he'd thought about himself a lot

“Do you think… she tried with V too?”

“I… don't know for sure. I hope not.” He replied, giving him the best answer he could.

V was gone most of the time, even when all three disassembly drones were alive and active, but that didn't mean their weren't times that the two were alone together, specifically on extended hunts.

Did she always leave to avoid J? To not be stuck alone with her?

“Sorry.” Uzi apologized swiftly.

“You're worried about me?” Still somehow he wasn't used to that, for someone else caring about how he was doing.

“I don't know how you even let me touch you after that.” She explained, voice getting even softer.

There was a lull in the conversation, the only sound being Tera sucking on her toy sloppily, N sighed, fingers tangling with his partners as they both lie on the bed.

“I like your touch.” He said softly, hoping that she wouldn't take it the wrong way, because he did, he liked it when she hugged him, or held his hand, or held him like he was the only thing that mattered on the whole of Copper-9.

“It's nice, you struggled to say ‘I love you’, but I always knew because you said it with your actions, with-with whenever you held me.”

Uzi didnt say anything, blushing at the sudden confession, she giggled airly.

“I just… yours was always different, even before we were together. I knew you wouldn't hurt me.”

“Gonna make me cry N.” She hummed, clearly struggling to emotionally deal with what he just said, he just laughed.

“Sorry.” He thought for a moment, before saying his thought out loud accompanied by the slightest bit of blush covering his visor. “I'd let you touch it.”

“What?”

“My core.” He clarified, pointing to his chest.

“N!” Her breath hitched, voilet exploding over her face, that had not been what she was expecting, to be invited to touch a part of him so private. She trembled as she looked away.

“I would. I mean yeah… I'm nervous, but you won't hurt me.”

“I might! It's not like I've done it before!”

“Okay, then you won't hurt me intentionally.”

He had a small, kind smile on his face, despite what he was saying, his blush wasn't nearly as profuse as the drone he was saying it to.

“I uh… okay. That's… good to know.”

Uzi sat and stewed in her own embarrassment, and was thcheat. Robo-God when she got a message in her core systems, from her Dad of all drones. She opened the white colored message;

WID-Khan: hey dronelette, need your help on something.

UID-Uzi: What's up?

WID-Khan: making something for son in law, need measurements.

UID-Uzi: We're not married, you know that, what measurements?

WID-Khan: that thingy on the tip of his tail, making a cap so tera doesn't grab it.

Huh, that was actually a really good idea…

UID-Uzi: I can get them, I'll send them to you when I do.

WID- Khan: thank you!

She sighed, still willing her blush away. So much to do…

Next ->

[nattyscuddlycabin]

Midnight Cuddles

natasha romanoff x f!reader

A/N: hiii this is my first fic and english is my second language so feedback is welcome just please don’t be mean! Idk why I decided my first fic to be so heavy, I just need some cuddly Nat.

Genre: fluff <3 but also angst

Warnings: body issues, self-loathing, kidnapping, human trafficking and experimentation, child abuse, childhood trauma, probably PTSD, anxiety, and depression.

Summary: Reader is a new recruit to the Avengers, and everyone but one person seems to warm up to them, or that’s what they think.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

Your childhood was rough. You were initially raised by a single mother with a lot of anger issues, all taken out on you. After years of dealing with her, you were kidnapped by this old organisation by the name of Hades. Pretty much the original Hydra. They experimented on kids and teenagers trying to give them some superhuman abilities for their own purposes.

That's where you got your powers. You could manipulate people’s minds into seeing, feeling, smelling, tasting, and hearing things that aren’t actually there. That’s also where you got your name, The Illusionist. Hades fell down due to the lack of money to continue their experiments years ago and just threw all of you out onto the streets.

One thing led to another and now you are the new recruit to the Avengers team. Of course. The 6 original Avengers were the mightiest superheroes, and you were to join them.

At first, you weren’t thrilled. They were all way more skilled in fighting, as Hades never got to train you, only give you your powers that you can semi-control. That also made you look less muscular than them which would never leave your mind when near them. Not to mention everybody knew who the 6 heroes of the world were. Nobody knew you.

Slowly, most of the team warmed up to you. Tony joked around goofily all the time, making you laugh, Bruce helped you regulate your powers a bit better, Thor acted like you were the big family’s little kid even though you really were 28, Clint popped out of the vents to scare you a few times, Steve asked you to help him figure out his phone like a thousand times, but there was one person who always just gave you a cold shoulder. That was Natasha. You attempted to talk to Natasha. It was hard to get the confidence to even go up to her as she is so intimidating, then each time you approach her, she just answers shortly before walking away.

To be honest, you understood her. You were a random person that suddenly joined her big family. But on the other hand, you craved her validation.

The tower didn’t have a floor assigned for you specifically, at least not yet, so it was decided for you to take a guest room on Natasha’s floor for now, as you are both women and you would be more comfortable. At least that’s what everyone thought.

Every day you walk out of your room and see Natasha walking out of hers. You always greet her kindly, but all she responds with is an annoyed “hello.” Never looking at you in the eyes.

Others tried to comfort you and tell you that she would warm up to you soon and that she is just not used to you, yet, and you tried to believe them but couldn’t help think the worst. What if she thinks you are too low on skills to be in the team? What if she thinks you aren’t fit enough to be on the team? What if she thinks it’s a mistake that you are on the team?

One night, you get your first nightmare while sleeping in the tower. You undeniably get nightmares from parts of your life. You wake up sweating and breathing heavily as you think of the nightmare. It had been things that your mother and the Hades people had said to you. It all replayed over and over again in your head as your mind began agreeing with the things said.

Usually you have some comfort in your own little apartment you had till now. It was familiar to you. Now, everything is still too new, that it adds on to the anxiety and thoughts. Your mind began also thinking of Natasha saying those things about you.

Things were getting bad, you began losing control over your breath, tears streaming down your face as you tried searching for your little comfort teddy bear. It might’ve been “childish” but that was the only thing that normally helped you calm down. But for tonight, nothing helped.

A little voice in your brain seemed to speak through all the negative thoughts, telling you to run to Natasha’s room. You instantly got up and ran to her room, putting no thought into what you were doing until you already knocked on her door. As you knocked, you started thinking even worse.

“Why did I knock?!” You thought, starting to sob even more, “She hates me!!! And crying like this?! She will be so mad at me for crying and waking her up and bothering her again!”

But before you could run away, she opened the door. Her green eyes showed clear surprise and worry as she quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you inside her room. The redhead closed the door quickly, hugging you.

“Hey hey hey, it’s okay, I’m here!” she said, scrunching her eyebrows in concern, “what happened? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I- I- I’m sorry! I’m sorry I woke you up!! I’m so sorry!!! Please don’t hate me even more! I’m sorry!” you cried, shaking violently.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! I don’t hate you! Cry it all out, okay? I’m here.” She exclaims worriedly as she pulls you to sit on the bed next to her and hugs you tightly, rubbing your back.

After a few minutes of crying and hugging her, your tears slowed down and you pulled away.

“I’m sorry…”

“Why are you apologising?” She questions.

“I just… I came in here crying like that and interrupted your sleep and bothered you just because of a stupid nightmare… I’m sorry…”

“I get nightmares, too, okay? It’s okay to ask for help for them. It’s okay to cry from them. And I’m proud of you for coming to me.”

”You- you are proud of me? Why would you be proud of me for that? I’m too sensitive…” You look at her in slight confusion.

“Yes, yes I’m proud of you. You aren’t too sensitive for crying or coming to me. It’s tough to come to someone about something like this. Do you want to talk about it?” She lifts your chin up with her finger, asking you to look at her.

“I thought you hated me…”

“I don’t hate you…” She looks down, “I was just nervous…”

“Nervous?” You ask, confused.

“Yeah… you are new and powerful and pretty…” She immediately regrets saying the last part but you just giggle. She looks up at you in confusion.

“I thought you thought that it was a mistake to add me to the team…”

“No, why would I ever think that?”

“I don’t know…” you look down.

“I love your little teddy bear, by the way” she giggles softly and it’s the most beautiful sound you have ever heard.

Then you realise it. You accidentally brought your bear with you to her room. How much more humiliating could this be? You cover your face with your hands, embarrassed.

“What? It’s cute! I have a bunny. It helps the nightmares.” She reaches back over her bed and grabs a little white bunny plushie and uses it’s little hand to wave at you. Your cheeks flush, hoping the darkness is enough to hide the blush, as you slowly raise your plushie and wave it’s hand back.

She smiles and craws back to her spot in her bed then looks over at you with a soft smile.

“You coming or not?”

“You want me to stay?”

“Yes, Y/N/N, come here!”

You move over so you are laying next to her as she covers you with the blanket and you both face each other with a bit of distance between you.

“You are really pretty too…” you break the silence.

Natasha tries to hide her blushing face with the little bunny. You put your bear in the same position and grab it’s hands and move them as if tracing an imaginary heart. She does the same with her bunny. Seeing her this flustered, you get a sudden confidence and move closer to her. So close that your noses are almost touching. You boop her nose and giggle.

“Never thought the stone cold Black Widow was this cute in the middle of the night.”

She moved a bit closer to you. You could feel her warm breath on your lips, as she spoke, “Never thought the Illusionist would be this confident in the middle of the night, either.”

“Maybe she is.” You close the gap between you, feeling her soft, warm, full lips move simultaneously with yours. When you both run out of breath, you pull away, breathing heavily. You quickly realise what you just did and hide your face in the crook of her neck, hearing her beautiful giggle again, as she pulls you closer, as close as the plushies between you two would allow.

“Good night, you little teddy bear.”

“Good night bunny.” you say, looking up at her and pecking her lips quickly before you go back to her neck. She wraps her arms around you, and you both fall asleep happier than you would have ever thought you’d be on a random night like this.

(￣o￣) zzZZzzZZ

A/N: hi again! There’s something that makes me so warm and fuzzy inside about Nat having a secret little plush bunny. I feel like she would always go back to it after a bad mission or injury. It would be her little way of healing ❤️‍🩹

Pt. II

[denaliwrites]

Naked in That Garden

Aziraphale x Fem!Reader x Crowley

Catch and Release Prompt: "Incentive"

Summary: (18+) Crowley discovers an incentive for staying in your body a little while longer. Can be read on its own or as a sequel to Out There Making DuckTales.

Soundtrack: the fruits by Paris Paloma

Requests: Open!

Warnings: :)

"Oi, what's that?" the voice in your head asked.

You snapped out of your reverie with a start. "What's what?" you asked distractedly, looking around for an answer that wasn't there.

"That," Crowley hissed, his... essence? soul? coiling around parts of you that left heat pooling between your legs.

"Crowley," you gasped desperately, nails digging into the wood of the desk you sat at as he did it again experimentally.

The problem was that now a new toy had been dangled in front of him, and Crowley was unlikely to back away -- unless he got bored, or broke it. And, even worse, it was unlikely he'd found and decided to play with those particular bits of you on his own -- something had drawn his attention there.

His essence squeezed around you again, bringing forth a strangled yelp just as Aziraphale walked in.

You didn't dare look at him, but could practically feel the concern rolling off of him as he approached you. His hand on your shoulder was comfortingly warm, but really only served to make you more desperate.

"My dear, you look ill."

Great. You could only imagine what that meant.

His hand not on your shoulder touched your forehead lightly. You glanced up at it and just managed to catch his frown. "You're flushed, but you don't have a fever. How odd."

He helped you to a stand and led you towards the stairs.

You nearly collapsed as Crowley's wandering interest honed in on the bud nestled between your thighs. Aziraphale caught you, looking deeply worried, but you weren't really sure how to tell him your demon houseguest had found the game room.

You were led into a bedroom and sat on the bed, and in your distracted haze you barely noticed Aziraphale leave, and certainly didn't hear his words as he did.

"I h-hope you're satif-fied," you gasped as Crowley tickled your insides.

"Oh, very," his voice hissed in your head. "This feels amazing. What is it?"

On one hand, you found it a little hard to believe a six thousand year old demon didn't know what he was doing to you. On the other, they'd both told you before that they didn't have human bodies so much as tangible objects that vaguely resembled human bodies from the outside.

So maybe he was being honest.

You wiped your brow, pushing back some strands of slicked hair, and released a huff as you leaned back. One hand supported you while the other dipped beneath the waistband of your jeans, inching ever closer to the heat between your legs.

"Do you really not know?" you asked, panting.

"I don't. Human physiology isn't really my forte."

"Do you want to?"

"I do."

That was all you needed to slip your fingers into your folds, index and middle pressing into your cunt while your thumb circled your clit. At first you weren't sure if your pleasure reached Crowley, but then your heard your moan echoed in and around you.

It was weird, to be getting yourself off like this. But something about it definitely turned you on.

"C-Crowley," you panted, slowing down for a moment so you could think.

"Yes, darling?" he purred.

"Can you... d-do you think you could... fill me?"

"Fill you?"

"Yes -- where my fingers are."

A moment later and your cunt felt full in a way you couldn't ever hope to describe. Technically, there was nothing there besides your fingers -- at least, visually speaking. But you could definitely feel Crowley's weight inside you, and it drew forth an obscene moan.

You only remembered Aziraphale when you heard a glass shatter on the wooden floor, and your eyes flew open to see him standing in the doorway, eyes bulging and mouth hanging slack.

"A-Azira--"

You fell silent as he came forward. His eyes blazed as he took in your flushed face, the sheen of sweat covering every inch of your skin, your hand buried in your jeans.

"Really, dear," he said with a click of his tongue. "If you needed help you really should've just asked."

"Wh..."

He snapped his fingers -- no doubt to miracle away the glass -- and then honed his focus back in on you. His gaze was hot and heavy, like a sun that burned bright enough to blind, but you couldn't help but stare into.

"Aziraphale," you whimpered, blinking the building tears of desperation out of your eyes.

"Hush, now, my dear." His voice was impossibly soft, loving, as he leaned forward and cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb brushing a tear away as yours brushed your clit. "Would you like my help?"

Crowley chose that moment to expand himself -- not enough to cause pain, but enough to leave you crying out, only able to answer Aziraphale in a wordless nod.

He leaned forward to kiss you, his lips tender against your own. His one hand remained on your cheek, while his other gently pulled your hand away from your cunt.

"N-no," you sobbed, but he shushed you with another kiss.

"It's all right," he reassured you. He snapped again and you were hit with a sudden chill as your clothes disappeared. Before you could complain, Aziraphale guided you down onto the bed, his now bare body hovering over you as his eyes trailed over your prone form. "Oh, aren't you lovely?"

Crowley gave an assenting hum as he squirmed inside you, eliciting another cry from you.

Aziraphale trailed kisses down your neck and chest, stopping to suckle at your breasts for a moment before he made his way back up.

"Angel," Crowley said, "how do you know what to do here?"

It was a great question. Of the two, you would've expected Crowley to know more about this particular activity.

"I read," the angel answered simply before he pulled you into a loving kiss.

You whimpered into his lips, nails clawing at his back in a desperate bid to coax him into action.

He blessedly understood your silent plea and responded by rocking his hips forward. You were, just for a moment, certain he used a miracle to drive home on his first try, but then all thoughts disappeared as you were filled to capacity.

Maybe even beyond.

It still didn't hurt, but the pressure left you gasping and your ache for release left you sobbing.

Aziraphale tsked above you. "Crowley, really, did you have to leave her in such a state?"

"How was I supposed to know that's what that button did?"

Aziraphale sighed as he pulled back. There was little relief as he was quick to pitch forward, filling you once again. And as he filled you back up, through your own wail you heard Crowley moan. And you could tell Aziraphale heard it too by the sudden glint in his eyes.

The angel, ever kind, shifted so that his next thrust in his your G-spot, and then he hammered at it relentlessly. Your screams were muffled by his kisses as he drove into that bundle of nerves over and over.

Crowley wriggled inside you, part of him filling your cunt while part of him shifted to toy with your clit.

It only took about ten seconds (if that) for your screams to become silent wails of pleasure. Tears streamed freely, though Aziraphale was quick to brush them away. And only a few seconds after your voice failed you, you began shaking from the strain of the building pleasure, from your desperate need for a release that was torturously close.

A few more snaps of his hips, and suddenly the dam burst.

Your whole body twitched and tensed into an arc, cunt clenching around Aziraphale so tightly that he had to pause mid-thrust. You wished you could scream, but no sound came out as your orgasm blazed through you like wildfire.

You barely registered Crowley's retreat into some other recess of your body, or that Aziraphale shifted so that the two of you were sitting up with you perched in his lap and leaned against his shoulder.

You eased into him as your orgasm faded, limply plastered against him like an overcooked noodle. He stroked your damp hair as you came down, your breaths rough pants against his shoulder.

"That's it," he and Crowley cooed together.

"You did so beautifully, my dear," Aziraphale sighed happily.

And, just to you, Crowley all but purred, "If ever I thought something divine, it'd be the image of you naked and gleaming."