#i like it in the sense it makes sense to me
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I’ll rip in hands and teeth and take a bite
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#yuji itadori#ryomen sukuna#yuuji#sukuna#sukuita#fanart#jjk fanart#gore tw/#body horror tw/#blood tw/#YUUJIIII BABY BOYYYY BABYYYYYY#hes hungry :/#sukuna seems 2 be having fun gdjhfgsdf . boys when theyre bored.#so happy i wrangled this pose in2 something im happy with i almost abandoned the idea entirely#sometimes front facing is the answer.....who knew :'>#also#can anyone tell me. how far up yuujis fun arms go i had no idea so i just stopped them at the elbow#if im wrong that will b not swaggy :(#listening 2 sena's cover of butchers vanity on repeat btw VIBES#cannibalism motifs my beloved uwu#in other news this is the least amount of shading ive done in a very long time#and its been even longer since i pulled out th white lineart#but overall i like this piece so much yuuji is so cute and it doesnt make sense 2 me at all#edit changed the colour to make it more obvious whats sukunas legs vs whats yuujis back
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FULL THROTTLE - Congrats on season 2!
#as a fan of both shoujo and shounen - I quite liked dandadan!#so I'm excited for season 2 but I might switch to the manga already#anyway I wanted to try out a dynamic composition - happy how it turned out! the hands were a big oof tho#I think my fave details are the glasses and earrings#my shading isn't great in this one tho - or rather it could've been more bold? it feels safely played if that makes sense#dandadan#ayase momo#okarun#ken takakura#LOL took me a moment to remember his real name#o0kawaii0o
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Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3
(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)
[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.
The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."
A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned
Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?
Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"
A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.
The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"
We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless
Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this
Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.
We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder
Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?
Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes
Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!
Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey
Maya: Shh just listen!
We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".
Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.
We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.
Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?
Nick looks at him, waiting for his response
We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."
We cut again to see the three of them standing together.
Miles: I... don't think I like women?
Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!
Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!
We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.
Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.
We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.
With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.
Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.
Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement
Nick: It's four in the afternoon-
he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight
Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.
Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?
Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?
Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.
We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.
As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.
Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve
Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?
We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick
Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk
Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...
Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"
/.End ID]
#Miles can handle horrifying truths about the death of his father and the nature of his guardian#but he draws the line at questioning his sexuality!#also. serious moment for a second#I think we focus a lot on moments of queer discovery stemming from attraction to the same sex#like that being the moment of panicked “oh no I'm different”. Which makes sense and is valid!#But I think it's also compelling to explore the opposite but similar twist in your gut that is:#oh my god I don't feel anything in this situation where others do. oh no something something is wrong with me#and this is something that gay and lesbian people have in common with ace and aro people!#I feel such tenderness and kinship to everyone who has been in that situation#and it's why i will never understand why aspec folks are pitted against gay or lesbian representation#we are drawn to the same characters bc we had such similar experiences and isn't that lovely that we can find solace in media?#so NO FIGHTING. We should all be BEST FRIENDS. my brothers in arms. I'd die for you.#all that is to SAY: I personally read edgeworth as asexual and like demiromantic/gay.#but YOU can read him as just gay in this comic if you want <3#Also. i just thought it would be funny if it took a lesbian to make him realize he didn't like women#I think he would have no clue how to react to chappell roan. Same vibe as giving a victorian orphan a baja blast and a crunchwrap supreme#ok sorry shutting up now#ace attorney#ace attorney comic#ace attorney trilogy#gyakuten saiban#phoenix wright#naruhodo ryuichi#miles edgeworth#mitsurugi reiji#maya fey#ayasato mayoi
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Arospec and in a relationship like yes. Lol imagine if people dated that's so silly. I go spend time with loml now
aromantic and interested in shipping in much the same way people are interested in superheroes. like man wouldnt it be cool if dating was real. id love to imagine what i would do if dating was real. here's my tierlist of the best kinds of dating. number 4 may surprise you.
#silly#i hope this makes sense#in my mind dating isnt real#dating my gf doesnt feel like dating it feels like connection#like no our souls are bound for eternity#dating is like. romance#idk how to say it#romantically attracted but not romantically#shes just like my world and life and everything to me#romance isnt real obviously im gonna go get married now
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It was a safety switch
So I'm actually obsessed with the idea that the "on" button Danny hit going into the portal wasn't actually an on button like one you get in a computer.
In basically any legally compliant workspace where I am (and I think in the western world broadly) you get these big red EMERGENCY STOP buttons that tend to be every few feet and on every machine so if something goes wrong people don't have to run far to make what ever's going wrong stop going wrong
Now to me that thing looks pretty much exactly like this thing
With a different layout, but the big red button is the subject of interest
Jack and Maddie seem to have cartoon consistency in their lab safety protocols, which checks out honestly given that's what they are, but It makes sense to me that they didn't so much put the ON button on the inside of the portal as that they flipped the power off to finish the final checks on the portal and then
Forgot About The Emergency Stop
(Incase people dont know, emergency stop buttons stop all the machinery it's attatched to. This can be anything from Only One Machine to literally an entire floor or building depending on the levels of "oh shit everything needs to stop RIGHT NOW." They're usually 'released' at a seperate point which can be anything from the keys in the panel above to a seperate button/keypad. Or, like the ones we had in our high school, the original red button that was pushed but you had to twist it to get it to pop back up. Kind of like a weird child lock)
So I'm proposing that the Fenton Parents, instead of being idiots in their planning and putting the on switch somewhere insane when they were drawing the schematics, actually built in a safety feature they forgot they tripped
Essentially, the Fenton parents were EXTRA safe in their lab and it half killed Danny
#good fenton parents#jack fenton#maddie fenton#danny fenton#danny phantom#dp#the fentons#portal accident#lab safety
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Genshin men or Honkai Star Rail men (whichever you prefer or tickles your fancy at the moment) with a darling that just likes to sit in their lap. Just a very cuddly darling that shows almost cat like affection (ie, darling will initiate affection when they want it, head buts as a form of affection? Just sort of nuzzling into the yandere when they feel like)
(Does this make sense? I just woke up)
Yandere HSR Men With An Affectionate Darling
Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr. Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luocha, Moze, Mr. Reca, Sampo, Sunday, Welt
I chose Honkai Star Rail. This is such a cute request<3 Don’t worry anon, I understood what you meant:) I wrote this as soft yandere, but if you (or anyone else) wants me to write a more eerier version let me know! I’m open for yandere hsr men requests with different scenarios (though I’m most likely nit going to include as many characters as in this one).
Masterlist
Warnings: fluff, soft yandere, obsession, possessiveness, delusional yandere, protectiveness
Word count: 1678
Argenti
Argenti thought your behaviour is absolutely adorable. He highly encouraged it and nuzzled his head onto the top of your head while whispering you praises.
His heart bustled with love and adoration as you sat yourself onto his lap for the fourth time that day. The Knight of Beauty is so very happy that you realise you are safest in his strong arms. With him you are safe from all the horrors of the universe. A poor little thing like you shouldn’t see such ugliness.
Aventurine
After all the horrors and the abuse the blond Stoneheart has faced throughout his life, your affection is something he deeply cherish. When you first willingly sat yourself down on his lap, his gorgeous multicoloured eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. After that he chases after your love and affection as if it were his lifeline (and it might very well be just that).
His hands tangled themselves in your hair as you rest your head against his shoulder. His breathing is uneven as he swears to himself he will keep you safe for eternity, no matter the cost. If he have to, he will burn down the entirety of the universe. Because there is no way in hell he will let someone as pure as you get hurt. His cheeks redden in uncharacteristically blush.
Blade
Blade had just come home from a particularly difficult and exhausting mission, when you greeted him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug. His black heart hammered against his chest at the unexpected gesture. He hesitantly returned your hug while his thoughts ran through all sorts of possibilities that your gesture was a trap. When he realised that was not the case, he relaxed into the hug.
Now, every time he comes back from a mission, he can’t wait to feel your warmth again. He won’t initiate it, but it’s clear as day what he want. His feelings is deeper than what they were before and his possessiveness has gotten out of hand.
Boothill
Given his new identity as a Galaxy Ranger, Boothill had long given up the idea of such things as affection and loving touches. So when you first snuggled up to him almost like the barn cats he grew up with, he couldn’t help but feel the sting of phantom tears (oh if only if that doctor hadn’t removed his ability to cry). He brushed his emotions of with a cheeky comment and a chuckle at your shyness.
You being such an adorable little darling, he can’t leave you unprotected now could he? His new life mission is keeping you safe and everyone who stands in his life will pay with their lives.
Caelus
The eccentric young man loved snuggling up with you. It was rarely you couldn’t find him with you in his arms. Your affectionate behaviour only egged him further on. He was like glued to you. His amber eyes filled with hearts as he locked eyes with you.
One night as he held you in his strong arms, he decided he will keep you in his room from now on. You are much safer there after all and it isn’t like you don’t like him. So you sure wouldn’t mind it.
Dan Heng
Dan Heng had never been familiar with hugs and other forms of affection. Sure, he had read about it, but it was a foreign concept. So one could say the first time you hugged him greatly shocked him. It took a few times before he relaxed against you. His entire being brimming with joy.
He wanted to drown himself in your lovely eyes and always feel your warmth. His already existing possessiveness tenfold as his need to keep you close by and where his eyes always could see you.
Dr. Ratio
The famous doctor was extremely fond of your affection, but he rather not show it. It would be improper, but still a geniuses slips up from time to time. He can’t help the smiles that forms upon his lips whenever you snuggle up to him. You reminded him of a cat and he couldn’t help but gently stroke his hand over your back.
In public he will seem as stern and stotic as he usually does, but inside he is consumed with love that ran deeper than any well. His throat closes up when your hand finds his. Ratio loves coming home to your waiting arms where all his worries and sorrows seem to disappear.
Gallagher
Gallagher was as affectionate as a dog and he loved your cuddles. He seems comfort in your warmth and his heart softened like pudding when you do the same with him.
You’re safe within his arms. You are a fragile thing and Gallagher can’t help the need to protect you from anything. Why would you want to be alone when you could be with him? Your cuddle sessions becomes a normal part of your everyday life, a change which Gallagher welcomes with open arms.
Gepard
The first time you wrapped your arms around the Captain in a living hug, he froze in place just like the ice in the outskirts of town. His face reddened, but happiness overflowed his eyes.
Every time he came home from work he sought out your warm embrace. His stress melted away as you held him in your arms. He was glad you were content with staying at home and far away from the dangerous outside.
Jiaoqiu
The fox was very cuddly himself and was more than happy to indulge in your cuddles. His soft tail was more often than not wrapped around your limbs in an effort to keep you as close to him as possible.
He greatly appreciated your affectionate nature and used it as a means to keep you close to him and away from all harm. At night when his nightmares appeared and his need to lock you away crept through his mind, his hold on you tightened in a firm grip. He will never let you go.
Jing Yuan
The snoozing general loved your cuddliness. He found it adorable and it made his love for you deepen (if that was even possible). His protective arms were always snugly wrapped around you. You were his everything and he was beyond grateful for your loving affection.
Jing Yuan adored your soft personality and he would be damned if he didn’t use it to make you stay with him. Why would you bother to go outside when you could be inside cuddling with him? It’s so much safer inside after all…
Luocha
Luocha was a gentle man through and through. For him it was nothing more important than you. He enjoyed your affection and encouraged it with his skilled silver tongue.
He want to have you as close to him as possible at all times, but sadly that is not possible given his missions that require you to stay somewhere safe. When he gets home from said missions, the first thing he does is finding you and wrap his arms around you. He will pamper you as much as possible and his heart warms with love every time you snuggle up to him.
Moze
The assassin had always been wary to physical touch, and that with good reason. There was way too many people who would love nothing more than to see him dead. You, however showed him that affection was a beautiful thing (that might only be because it’s you).
With you in his arms, he let his guard down. He felt peaceful and he wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. His arms coiled themselves around you in a tight hold as he swore to himself that he would eradicate every obstacle.
Mr. Reca
The ideal night for Mr. Reca was a movie night together with you. Your cuddly personality came in handy for just that. Your warmth inspired him and he made sweet romantic movies with the main character inspired by you. Though no actor could even come close to capture your greatness.
He purposely put on horror movies to have you cling to him like a lifeline. You were so adorable that his heart almost couldn’t take it. You were so fragile and sweet that he couldn’t bear seeing any harm come your way. You will be safer hidden away in his home where only he could reach you.
Sampo
The cunning con-artist businessman could never get enough of your cuddles. He had no shame and often wraith his arms around you whenever you went in a tight bear hug.
Nights consisted of cuddles and sweet nothings. His love for you almost made his heart burst through his chest and his possessiveness grew every day. He was sure one day his heart would explode if he didn’t protect you from all the cruel things humanity was capable of.
Sunday
Your hugs brought warmth and comfort which was something Sunday really needed. With you in his arms all his worries seemed to disappear. His wings shields your face as you nuzzle your head against his.
You remind him of the little bird he and his sister found when they were children and the need to keep you safe is what drives him. He cannot bear to live in world without you.
Welt
There is nothing like a good cup of tea and you perched on his lap. He loves very sweet moment shared between the two of you. He has experience lots of horrible things throughout his long life, so the serenity shared with you is something he greatly appreciated.
He vowed to himself to always keep you safe. Though that is no challenge given how you prefer to spend your days together with him. He felt blessed that you felt so safe with him that you showed him your affectionate side. Welt will always put you first everything as you is more important to him than everyone else (they ones who tried to come between you won’t know what’s coming for them).
#yandere hsr x reader#yandere hsr#yandere honkai star rail x reader#yandere honkai star rail#hsr x reader#honkai star rail x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere male x reader#yandere male#aventurine x reader#mr reca x reader#sunday x reader#blade x reader#dr ratio x reader#yandere aventurine#welt x reader#gallagher x reader#dan heng x reader#caelus x reader#jing yuan x reader#luocha x reader
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Idk how others in the fandom feel about this, but to me, Isabela's presence in Veilguard is frankly bizarre.
Isabela has wildly different endings in DA2, depending on Hawke's decisions and relationship with her. If you didn't form enough of a friendship or rivalry with her, she fucks off with the Tome of Koslun and never comes back. If Hawke decides not to defend her, she gets given up to the Arishok and Qunari. (It is implied she escapes regardless, but that's still a pretty significant thing to brush aside!) If Hawke romances Isabela and follows through on her quests, they stay together at least semi-permanently (barring whatever happens to Hawke in Inquisition).
Except, when you meet her in the Lords of Fortune - she can never mention any of that. She doesn't explain her new philosophy around the finding of cultural artefacts and how her Tome of Koslun debacle shaped that. She can never mention Hawke in any capacity, which is especially weird if your Hawke romanced her.
She does makes comments like "Kirkwall taught me a lot about family 😌" which makes 0 sense if your Isabela absolutely hightailed it out of Kirkwall or got thrown to the Qunari. What was the lesson she learnt, exactly? "I was right the whole time, fuck emotional vulnerability and fuck caring about anyone else?"
She's also one of the few characters who make an appearance other than the Inquisitor and Harding who has a close connection to Varric from previous games. You're telling me she has absolutely nothing to say about his death?
Her return strips her of any complexity and sidelines any of her past relationships because Veilguard just completely refuses to engage meaningfully with the stories before it.
#also not immediately related to my main point abt her inclusion but fuck her constant sexualisation makes me violent#there's a difference between being a character who is open with their sexuality and being overly gratuitous to appeal to certain audiences#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age critical#veilguard critical#dragon age the veilguard spoilers#bioware#isabela dragon age#dragon age 2#veilguard spoilers
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merry christmas, please don't call | s.r.
in which Spencer pens an email to you, since you've already blocked his phone number
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: nondescript break up, described as spencer's fault, reader is mentioned to have worn lipstick, yearning, word count: 907 a/n: and the worst part is!!! that we both know!!!!! we are doing kind of an unofficial margotmas/reidmas! really i've just been building up christmas ideas for a while lol
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Merry Christmas
Hey,
Spencer shook his head, that was too casual.
Good afternoon,
Much too formal.
Hello,
Too rigid.
Darling,
I passed by the house that you told me you adored. It used to be your dream house; you’d always show me the Zillow listing whenever you were browsing. The owners didn’t put up their Christmas lights this year, and it looks like they’re getting ready to sell. I haven’t been online to check the listing, that was always your thing rather than mine.
Do you remember the house? It had four bedrooms for our kids to sleep in and a library with stained-glass windows. You always told me the stained-glass windows were your favorite feature of my apartment. I keep it covered now; the colored glass just serves as a painful reminder of you.
Emily called me last week. I suppose no one told her that we weren’t together anymore because she asked what our holiday plans were. I haven’t made any since you left. I’m finding myself hopeful that we get called on a case over Christmas so that I don’t need to be surrounded by the world celebrating while I continue to wallow in the memories of you and me.
That’s all I have now: memories. We made so many of them over the course of three years that I don’t know what to do with them. I’ve always had the sneaking suspicion that having an eidetic memory is a curse just as much as it is a blessing, but with you gone, I know it’s more of a curse. I see you when I close my eyes as if your features have been permanently tattooed on the back of my eyelids, but when my eyes are open, everything is exponentially worse.
You left in such a hurry, so you were bound to leave a few things behind. When I went to make a cup of coffee and found one of your mugs in my cabinet, JJ and Penelope had to practically scrape me off the kitchen floor. There was still a lipstick smudge on it, a piece of our history the dishwasher couldn’t quite wash off. Your necklace was on the bedside table, though maybe that was left behind on purpose. I wish we could go back to the day I gave it to you, you could wear the same green dress, and maybe work wouldn’t get in the way. If I could, I’d call you to ask why you left it behind, but you’ve blocked my number.
There was no need for you to leave me things to remember you by, how could I ever forget you?
I’ve been finding myself grateful that you got so close with Garcia during our relationship, she doesn’t give me any explicit details on your life when she updates me. I never ask, but she knows I want to hear.
It’s a rather odd phenomenon to have once had someone who you shared everything with, only to one day find they want nothing to do with you. I always find myself reaching for my phone to send to a message, or leaning over to show you a line in my book, but you’re not there anymore. I don’t hold any malice in my heart for you, even after you called it all off. My biggest regret is that I couldn’t be the boyfriend that you needed, and I’m proud of you for realizing you wanted someone better. I’m sorry I couldn’t be better.
Maybe I still have some growing up to do. There might be some sort of emotional stunting as a result of my less-than-orthodox upbringing and education, which makes sense when you consider two of my most common nicknames, “boy genius” and “kid.” One day I could find myself in the same place you were, ready for more, but maybe then I’ll be with someone who is ready for the same things as I am. She’ll never be you though. You’ll always hold that special place in my heart.
Speaking of my upbringing, my mom keeps asking about you. Each time we talk on the phone, she asks if she can talk to you, but I’ve been telling her that you’re still working or are otherwise preoccupied. I know I shouldn’t lie to her, but if I tell her, she’ll inevitably forget, and I’ll be forced to recount the story of how I lost the best thing to ever happen to me forever. That would be my eternal damnation. There’s Sisyphus and Tantalus and Spencer Reid, slowly becoming nothing but a myth. I wonder if I’m a story that you tell your friends at O’Keefe’s.
I go there sometimes, just to see if I can catch your gaze, but you’re never there.
I know this is your favorite holiday, and I don’t intend to ruin your holidays with my message. I suppose I just needed to see if you still dream about that house. To see if you still dream of me the way I dream of you.
Merry Christmas,
Spencer
He clicked send nervously, ready to snap his work-issued laptop shut when it chirped with a notification. Surely you hadn’t responded that quickly. Spencer opened his inbox once more, checking the latest email.
To: [email protected] From: [email protected] Subject: Delivery Status Notification (Failure)
Message blocked.
Your message to [email protected] has been blocked. See technical details below for more information.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#written by margot#margot after hours
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Promethean
fuckboy!Soap x Shy!Reader x Ghost (college!au) p.2 here’s part 1
Uhh warning soap isn’t in this chapter and reader isn’t acting very shy rn lol
Simon managed to drag you, shocked and still on shaky legs, into his surprisingly clean car and across town to a little cafe. The guy with eye bags behind the counter starts making his order as soon as he comes in the door— must be a regular.
At the counter he points to a couple of items in the display case, before prompting you— you stutter out your go-to, and Simon whips out a beat-up debit card before you can think to pull out your wallet.
The largest size of earl grey almost looks normal in his large hand, a plate of pastries in his other mitt. You grab your own drink and follow where he tilts his head in gesture.
When you sit, he pushes the plate towards you. Like he’s dropping a fresh kill at your doorstep—a courting gift. Eat. Be provided for, sensitive doe. You pick up a danish, if only to ease the clench of his fist on the table. He pulls the black surgical mask down to sip his tea in a way that’s almost hilariously delicate given his permanent scowl.
You couldn’t have sat in silence for more than 10 minutes. But it feels like a lot longer.
“Simon. What are we doing here?” You probe quietly. Saying his name when you’ve never actually been introduced to each other feels wrong. Like you’ve stolen a piece of him that he hasn’t given freely.
“He never takes you out,” he grunts. As if that explains anything.
“It’s not… what we have isn’t like that.”
——
Simon chews on your overly diplomatic response for a minute. That’s what it must be, chewing— why else would he grind his teeth together when his tongue is still wet with his favorite soothing beverage?
You’re kind. Kinder than the mutt deserves.
“But you want it to be.” He says it with an almost biblical level of finality. Your pastry making the plate clink against the table as you drop it back down.
“What would you know about what I want?”
“You’re an easy read. S’how y’got yourself in this situation. Soap’s not exactly a rocket scientist when it comes to chattin’ up birds, you’re jus’ an open book.”
Simon shamelessly stares at your lips as they quirk in anger— so unused to vitriol. It’s gorgeous.
“So he’s using me. I know. Is that what this was about? Taking me on a pity date to let me down gently? Or did you just wanna see if you could have a go as well?”
Seeing you like this. It’s something else. He’s seen you mope around so many times, silently begging for crumbs that will never be tossed your way. It’s even harder to pull his gaze from you, now that you’re hissing. He wants to dig his teeth into your heart shoulder and rip out the bruise Johnny left you with.
Soap is his best friend.
“He’s a dickhead. You don’t need him. You’ll find something better.”
Simon has never been what he would call “something better”. Not in any sense. But this might be the first time he’s wanted to be.
“I won’t,” you say with the lower half of your face hidden by the sipping of your drink. As if it’s quenched your fire, and all that leaves you is vapor. “I’m not… the type.”
He gets it. Really, he does. He’s not the type either— or so he’s thought. You’re making him wonder if he’s imagined that about himself— the same way you’ve clearly imagined it about yourself.
“What’s the rest of your day look like?”
“…Nothing set in stone.” The not that it’s any of your fucking business goes unspoken, but is plain to see in the air between you.
“Lemme take you around. On a date. Be mine for today. If y’hate it, I’ll drop you back at yours and the next time you come round, I’ll mind my business and keep the door closed.” Well, that’s the most you’ve ever heard him say in one go. And it begs a question.
“What happens if I like it? You’ll fuck me in a different room of the same frat house?” Your unimpressed look makes him feel ravenous. She-wolf is threatening to turn her eyes from the display. Rejection. Not an option. “Or maybe you’ll ask me to go steady,” you huff under your breath like it’s a bad joke.
“If y’like it, then you’ll stay mine, and y’won’t fuckin’ want for anything. You’re supposed to be worshipped, not begging for scraps at a mutt’s door.”
He really didn’t mean to say it like that. He meant to bite his tongue. He’s trying not to think of how hot it would be if his intensity scared you into pissing yourself. He’s trying not to let himself show through the lines. It’s not working. Any of it.
The venomous bile that spills from behind his teeth reminds him that his eloquence is just one of many reasons why he’s single. Why he should be muzzled instead of kept. He doesn’t know why he’s taking it upon himself to do this. Selfishness, maybe. There’s plenty of better men he could’ve put up to the task, easy. The man who wants to feel blood on the back of his throat makes a terrible savior.
He feels like he can see your pupils dilate. You pick up your danish again and take a bite. You hold it out for him to try. It’s a test. You don’t think someone with eyes like his can handle doing cutesy, saccharine things. Like what couples do. That must be it.
He tries not to think of his teeth going past the flakey flesh of the pastry and sinking into your fingers. When his tongue meets the butter between the layers, he tries not to think of the salt sweet flavor of your sweat and tears. A seed from the blackberry jam gets thoughtlessly crushed between his molars— he hopes the bitterness will suddenly wake him up and he won’t be a beast crying for love at the heart of the world anymore.
It doesn’t.
#uhhhhhhhhh something happened to me at the end there sorry#I went a little crazy style#writing#cod fanfic#cod#college au#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#Promethean
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PAIRING ~ bf!nrk x gf!reader
SUMMARY ~ when you visit your boyfriend to spend time with him, he downright ignores you and continues gaming leading to a grumpy play fight which soon escalates into something not so playful.
GENRE ~ fluff, suggestive.
WORD COUNT ~ 1.485k
ᯓ★ i had fun writing this ngl.
when you giddily turned the doorknob to riki's bedroom in his dorm apartment, your face rotted into one of disbelief. the room was dark, except for the large, obnoxiously bright tv screen near one wall of the room, with riki sitting across to it on a small black leather couch, a warm lamp lit on his side. he had a pair of gaming headphones snug on his head, one which had a mic to convey his less than clean exclamations of frustration at his teammates. there was a controller in his dexterous hands, his tongue darting out ever so often and teeth sunk into his plump bottom lip in focus. he didn't seem to have noticed you were even there, and to make things worse, he wore just a thin black tee and basketball shorts. it was a simple outfit, yet effective in driving you crazy in all the right ways.
you sighed and rolled your eyes. damn it. if you didn't know any better, he had probably spent all day glued to his couch, and it was probably going to remain that way unless you did something. you rid yourself of your puffer jacket, clearing your throat as you neatly folded it in an attempt to get him to at least acknowledge your arrival. but of course, your attempts were in vain.
you knew for a fact that he wasn't utterly unaware of your entrance, given how the corner of his lips tugged up into the tiniest ghost of a smirk. he was playing a game you were familiar with. he sensed you walking closer to where the couch was, but paid it no mind, the yelling and screaming of his other online gaming teammates ringing out through the air along with his own voice. it was only once you were standing between the couch and tv, arms on your hips, that he craned his neck up to look at you, a smug expression forming on his face. you narrowed your eyes into a glare, tapping your foot on the ground, waiting for him to take his darned headphones. he chuckled lowly, continuing to game by peaking over your shoulder for a few more seconds out of thorough enjoyment of watching you stew and grow impatient. but, he knew he should set a limit to his teasing. he took off his headphones and leaned forward to set them, along with his controller down on the coffee table in front of him. "something wrong?" he teased, his tone all too playful for your liking. “oh, don’t give me that. and quit smiling.” you almost immediately responded, crossing your arms over your chest. “it’s cold as balls outside, but i still came to see you. you didn’t even look my way!” you scolded, but it came off more as whining to your boyfriend.
he held his hands up in mock surrender, a small smirk still tugged at his lips at your pouty expression. he had to admit, you were pretty cute when you were mad. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry." he chuckled again, patting the empty space next to him on the couch. "come, sit. i'll make it up to you, yeah?"
you felt your irritation slowly but surely subside, but kept your expression indifferent. with a petulant ‘hmph!’, you looked at the spot riki patted at, and then at riki. you dodged the edge of the coffee table by the couch, deciding to climb up onto riki’s lap, straddling his thighs instead.
he could only shake his head fondly, his soft and deep laughter ringing in your ears. he was more than happy to indulge you. he leaned back against the cushions of the couch, gaze never leaving yours as one hand found a place at the small of your back.
“pay attention to me.” you whined, rather demanded, nudging your scrunched nose with riki’s. he chuckled to himself and hummed playfully, landing a gentle pinch on your hip and watching your reaction with sheer amusement. your demand earned a huff from him before he replied, "you're literally sitting in my lap right now, baby. how much more attention do you want?" “i don't know, i don’t care..”, you continued, wrapping your arms around his torso in a firm grip and burying your face into your neck. as much as you tried to act bratty and annoyed, you couldn't deny how flustered amused smirks made you feel.
he wrapped his arms around your waist in response, keeping you firmly against him, your small form pressed up against his much larger frame. your neediness was only driving his smirk to widen. "needy baby." he teased, one hand finding your hair and gently running his fingers through it. a frown of irritation formed yet again at his little tease. you further dug your face into the crook of his neck, your mind working overtime on how to reply. when you couldn’t, you decided to land a bite on his neck as ‘punishment’. he let out a slight huff in surprise at the feeling of your teeth against his skin, his grip around your waist tightening somewhat as he did. "little brat." he muttered under his breath, lightly tugging on a few strands of your hair as a 'punishment' of his own. “oww..” you pouted, dramatically massaging the spot on my scalp. you pulled your face out of the crook of his neck, announcing your irritation with a frowny face. apart from irritation, there was a certain flare of competitiveness in your eyes. oh, it was so on. the pads of your fingers and palm made contact with riki’s chest as you landed a slap on it in return.
"hey-" he cut himself off with a scoff when you slapped his chest, the expression on his face growing into a smirk once more. he knew all too well about your playful tendencies, and his competitive nature was beginning to be triggered now. without a word, he suddenly hooked one arm leg under your thighs, the other near your waist and lifted you up. with a few long strides, he carried you to his bed before you could even process what was happening, unceremoniously dropping you onto his bed. your eyes widened, and before you could even try shouting at him or wriggling out of his hold, you landed on the black duvet covering his twin bed with a bounce. dumbfounded, you exclaimed, “did you just body slam me, riki?!” he chuckled as he crawled onto the bed between your legs, hovering over you on all fours. his smirk grew as he watched you pout up at him, clearly not too happy about the way you had landed on the bed. "i guess you could say that. did you like it?" he asked in a teasing tone, one of his hands going to tease under your shirt. “i- wha-” butterflies. god, butterflies had likely colonised your stomach over his stupid smirks and how he could easily manhandle you into doing essentially anything. but, you knew better than to give him the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you were. you concealed your feelings with a grumpy pout and maybe just a little genuine embarrassment of your own lack of strength. “you can’t just do that!” he chuckled yet again, his hand still exploring your exposed skin under your shirt, slowly making its way up to your ribs, right under the lacy edge of your bra as he continued to look down at you. your bratty behavior amused him, and he was always fond of how easy it was for him to tease you. "i just did, baby. it's fucking adorable how easy it was to." he cooed, his hot breath fanning against your neck, his nose nuzzled into its subtly fragranced skin. if you were standing right now, you were certain your knees would've given out. there was something so attractive about riki's confidence, not to mention his little cuss, that it turned you on in ways almost embarrassing. you shakily exhaled and frowned in slight offense, realizing you were a gone case if you stayed there any longer. stuck under some of the weight of his larger, muscular frame, you began squirming and wriggling in hopes to coax yourself out of his grip. he simply scoffed and grinned at your efforts to escape from under him and used the hand not snuck up your shirt to pin both your wrists over your head. he now pressed his lips against the side of your neck, planting a few gentle kisses before speaking again. "stop squirming." he whispered next to your ear before nipping at the lobe. you felt your face heat up, a tingle between your legs now undeniable. you bit the insides of your cheeks and let out a silent shaky exhale. you continued squirming under him, now using a tactic of pity to get away from the situation. “let me go, you’re heavy...” he lifted his head from your neck to flash you a wolfish grin, using his knees to spread your legs apart. the next thing you knew was his very evident erection pressed right by your thigh, and his hot, deep whisper right by your lips, “nah.” (reblog and comment for part 2 ya filthy whores 😜💖)
#enhypen#enhypen fanfic#enhypen smut#enhypen x reader#enhypen hard hours#enhypen fluff#enhypen riki#ni-ki#enhypen niki#riki enhypen#niki enhypen#enhypen ni-ki#ni-ki enhypen#niki x reader#riki x reader#riki smut#niki fluff#riki fluff#niki scenarios#riki scenarios#niki imagine#riki imagine#fanfic#imagine#nishimura riki#enhypen nishimura riki#nishimura riki smut#nishimura riki fluff
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To the anon that suggested Curly Manhandling..
here bookie <3
NSFW MINORS GO AWAY
Curly’s quite the big fellow. He knows it, too. He’s always flexing his arms in front of you to show off his gym gain and taking every opportunity to show off his impressive build. You don’t mind it. It’s a bit of a turn-on, knowing all that is all yours. But the best part is when he uses that muscle he worked so hard on to fuck you dumb. He knew you liked to be manhandled and took that to heart, scooping you up and throwing you over his shoulder whenever you suggested taking things to the bedroom. He adored the squeals and giggles from you when he did. Filled his heart with a sense of pride… or maybe he just adored his sweet girl. His favorite method was pushing your legs up to your head while he pounded into you, seeing the very slight bulge of his cock outlined in your stomach when he thrusts. You’re soaked and gripping him like a vice and he could die happily right now, buried 9 inches inside you. He’d hunch over to quicken his pace, hands pinning your wrists up by your head. He’d love looking at your fucked-out face, the slight drool pooling at the corner of your lips, your slightly crossed eyes, mouth parted in an O shape. You looked so pretty like this. He wanted to take a picture and frame it, hang it above his bed so he could see it every day. Your face was amazing, but it came in second only to your moans. Your beautiful, sweet little noises. Whines of his name, pleas, whimpers, all of it spurred him on. Hearing his name from your mouth was music to his ears. “Yeah, baby? Wan’ me to go faster? Harder? You got it, lemme take care of you.. Sweet thing.” “Fuck, you’re takin’ me good… g’na make me come quick..” And you took it like a champ. When he did pump you full of his kids, you took every drop. He’d let you fall back and observe his come leaking out your poor cunt. But he’s not finished, ladies and gents. Oh no. He doesn’t normally do this out of fear of hurting you, but when he’s particularly stressed and you’re just offering yourself.. Full Nelson time!! Yup, he’s got your back pressed flush against his chest, ass against his pelvis, cock thrusting in and out of you. He has an arm locked around you to hold you in place, and his other’s holding up one of your thighs for a better angle. You find this position the hottest because he finally gets to be rough with you.he begs to differ, but as long as it makes you happy, and it really does. “Fu-uck, baby, keep movin’ like that, i gotcha.. Mhmmm. Feels so good..” He’s babbling praise into your ear while he destroys you, the gentleman that he is, and making sure to kiss you everywhere he can. Soft little ‘sorry’s on your skin. He feels bad for being so rough with you, but he can't help it when it feels so good. Even he’s moaning like a girl now just from the euphoric bliss of being inside your sweet little cunt. And he’ll keep going, until he’s filled you up with at least 5 loads of his come. He wants to pump you full of his babies in hopes he’ll start a family with you. But, more likely, he’s just obsessed with seeing you leak his seed out of your abused hole. Either way, you’re full of him, a reminder of what he does to you. You’ll certainly find it difficult to walk tomorrow, but it’s worth it. He’ll take care of you, since it’s his fault you’re in that state, poor thing. And he’ll do it all over again when you want him to! <3
#pigeonfic⯎#curly mouthwashing#mouthwashing#curly x reader#mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing smut#captain curly smut#I BUSSED writing this
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⋆ our bodies, two wounds of love.
bodyguard!sevika x f!reader. men & minors dni.
synopsis: as the youngest daughter of a highly famous businessman, you're not at all what sevika is expecting upon receiving her assignment.
cw: modern setting, soft!sevika, reader is sugar sweet and slightly shy, reader has long hair, obsessive behavior, dubious consent, as in reader wakes sevi up properly like the eater she is but sevi consents when she wakes up, somnophilia, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, implied/referenced sex, via toys, implied strapping as god intended, overstimulation, impact play, it's pussy slapping, nipple play, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, dom/sub undertones, minor violence, reader speaks german in this for no other reason than i've been watching the empress., soft dom!sevika, love confessions, near-death experiences, non-sexual intimacy, age difference, older woman/younger woman, mommy issues, implied lmfao, makeup sex, arguing, resolved sexual tension, masturbation in bathroom, accidental voyeurism notes: this is set to american by lana del rey. listen here. this is more emotionally heavy, but definitely my favorite. does this plot barely make sense? yes. but is the reward worth it? yes. this is a repost.
out of all her clients, you were the easiest.
sevika shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, given the research she’d conducted. you were the youngest of four daughters, and the public fed off your penchant for privacy. finding someone like you in her line of work was a rarity: no scandals to cover up, no carefully curated drama for the tabloids. your reputation preceded you—sweet, quiet, and often tired. a homebody, mel had said with an almost indulgent smirk when sevika was handed the assignment.
“you’re lucky,” she added. “the others are a handful.”
sevika didn’t believe in luck.
the flat where she first met you was a monument to your family’s wealth. still it was tasteful—ornate without being garish, quiet grandeur woven into every polished surface. it was the kind of space that swallowed sound and softened the world's edges.
your apartment was beautiful in a way that felt intentional but not performative. soft cream and powder blue walls were traced with delicate vines and florals, the details long faded. it wasn’t pristine—scuffs on the wooden floor and fingerprints smudged onto the low, sculptural table in the center—but it was lived-in, loved in a way that gave the space its warmth.
the table itself was an anchor—organic and raw, its uneven edges smoothed by time, surrounded by cushions in muted grays and pale pinks that had lost some of their color to the steady heat of the sun. a shelf of books stretched to the ceiling, its rows crowded with novels and photography volumes, with stacks of loose papers and half-burnt cigarettes scattered between them. the window beside it was cracked open just enough to let in the sound of rustling leaves, the faint scent of rain-soaked greenery curling through the room like an invisible flatmate.
golden lamps shaped like oversized fans stood at either end of the space, their light pooling onto the woven rug beneath. it cast the room in a kind of half-glow—soft, forgiving—blurring the edges of things just enough to make them feel closer. there was something fragile about how it all fit together like it had been arranged for someone who might leave it behind at any moment.
and yet, it felt distinctly like you. the powdered jasmine in the air, the book splayed open on the armchair, the small dish of rings by the window—it was a home that asked nothing of you but to exist in it. sevika’s stormy gaze caught on an abandoned note on the window sill, the script delicate and curling.
cochem, it read. i miss you. i want to come back to you. i want to disappear inside of you and have you love me again. i want to get lost in the german morning. no one will ever know me, and i’ll be happy, less unfulfilled.
she fingered the edges of the paper, sun-bleached and flaking. then she began to walk again, navigating to what looked like the open door of your study.
you were waiting for her inside, perched in an armchair too big for your frame, as if the room had been designed to diminish you. at first glance, you looked as delicate as the furniture you sat on, barefaced and bathed in soft afternoon light that filtered through sheer curtains. it was the kind of light that made everything look fragile and translucent.
you wore an ivory blouse, thin and shimmering with embroidery that seemed to grow out of the fabric like frost patterns on glass. the neckline skimmed your collarbones, modest but deliberate, while the sleeves flared past your wrists, draping like petals. the cinched waist and pale drawstrings might have belonged to someone dressing for comfort, but on you, it was something else entirely—careless elegance.
the sweatpants should have broken the illusion. they didn’t. instead, they made you seem more unreachable, more unstudied. as if you’d wandered into this world from somewhere else—someplace softer—and were still too young to realize you didn’t belong.
sevika lingered in the doorway for a beat longer than she meant to, her presence large enough to make the room feel smaller. she expected you to bristle at the intrusion, to draw yourself up with the same cool hauteur that so often marked women of your standing. but you didn’t.
you looked up at her, eyes wide and unguarded, and smiled.
“hello,” you said. your voice was so soft, as though you feared disturbing her.
sevika’s eyes swept over you, cataloging every detail: the way your hair—long and heavy—spilled over your shoulders, catching the faint streaks of the incoming light; the way your blouse seemed to ripple as you moved, fabric clinging like a whisper to your skin.
“i’m sevika,” she said finally, voice low and steady. “your father hired my team's services to protect your family. i’ll be your bodyguard.”
you nodded and rose from the chair, the movement unhurried and deliberate. you smoothed your palms over the sides of your sweatpants—grey, nondescript, somehow lovely in the context of you—and stepped closer. you smelled faintly of something soft and fleeting: fresh linen, maybe, or soap.
“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand, sincerity tucked neatly into every word.
sevika didn’t take it right away. there was something strange about you—something that tugged at her instincts and told her to look closer. your face was open, unguarded, but there was a sadness there, too, stitched into the curve of your mouth, in the way your lashes fell low. she watched the way you stood there, chin lifted just enough to suggest poise but not pride, eyes wide and unguarded as they searched hers for something she wasn’t used to giving.
trust.
and for the first time in a long while, sevika found herself unsure of what to do. you weren’t like the others, all obvious disdain and high expectations. nothing was demanding about you—nothing calculated or sharp. just the soft curve of your mouth, the quiet pull of your gaze, and a kindness she didn’t quite know how to meet.
she clasped your hand firmly but briefly, clearing her throat as she stepped back.
“we should go over security protocol,” she said gruffly, falling back into professionalism as a defense.
you only nodded, that same soft smile still lingering. “of course. whatever you need.”
whatever you need.
sevika didn’t believe in luck, but standing there, looking down at you—your long lashes fluttering as you turned your gaze away, the afternoon light casting faint shadows through the sheer sleeves of your blouse—she wondered, for just a second, if this was as close to it as she would ever get.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
it took three years for both of you to understand that your relationship had outgrown the typical bounds of client and employee. yes, intimacy was inevitable given the circumstances, but even a stranger would’ve seen something uncanny about how you and sevika were… connected, even for a bodyguard.
love affairs always look different to those inside them. you thought nothing of how deeply you needed her, how fondness for her had quietly rooted itself in you. sevika risked her body—her life—to keep you from harm, and it felt natural to bond, to grow into one another. time spent apart became more agonizing only relieved by the hours you were together, yet you ignored the weight of it.
your sisters often spoke of it, though only behind closed doors. you rarely engaged in their chatter. you had always been this way: dreamy, untethered, with a mind like mist and the heart of a prey animal. lame, your mother had called you, her voice sharp with disappointment. sickly, she added, as if naming your frailty might cure it. over time, it became easier to withdraw, to wrap yourself in silence, and let the world chatter on without you.
but with sevika, life required less effort. you rediscovered a tenderness for the act of living in her presence. she was patient, grounding. she found you tolerable even at your worst, and for that, you adored her. no one else had made you feel this way—not men, not women.
while you preferred women, you had dabbled with men, more out of curiosity than desire. it felt clinical, an attempt to decode them like puzzles, perhaps to better understand why you and your father clashed. women, on the other hand, unraveled you.
the realization of your love came in two parts. the first arrived in the languid quiet of a holiday evening at your family’s upstate estate.
you had overexerted yourself in a lagree class, and sevika, ever watchful, had drawn you a warm bath. you watched her through the crack of the bathroom door, your gaze catching on the soft swell of her hips, the worn strength in her movements as she stretched after finishing readying the bed for sleeping. you often shared when traveling. she sat on the edge of it, her familiar perch, closest to the door. she always did this.
it was the smallest things about her that undid you: the way her hair slipped loose from its strict ponytail, the gentle sway of the gold chain brushing against her collarbones. you’d bought her that chain during a weekend in stockholm. now, the sight of it filled you with a sudden, vicious envy. you wanted to be that close to her—always.
the need consumed you. your body buzzed with an unnamed energy, teetering on the edge of itself. you wanted to crawl out of your skin and into hers, to dissolve completely against her warmth. you wanted her blood to run through your veins, her marrow to fuse with yours. your desire was feral, deranged, trembling like a dying pathetic thing.
without thinking, your hand slipped between your thighs. the thought of her—the sharpness of her profile, the tender press of her hands on your waist at the farmer’s market earlier—burned in your mind. you focused on the ridge of her nose, her beautiful nose. everything about her pleased you.
your fingertips pressed harder into the rosy pearl of your clit, and with a wounded cry, you came undone, trembling, your gaze locked on her through the crack in the door.
as if summoned by your thoughts, sevika lifted her head and met your eyes. her stern gaze pinned you, and you sank beneath the water with sudden embarrassment, your skin flush with heat.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
the next morning, your pleasure still lingered via a morning glow on your skin. you woke to find sevika beside you, her strong shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of her sleep. you lifted a hand and stroked her brow, cooing softly as she murmured from somewhere deep within her sleep.
she, you thought, is every woman i’ve ever wanted.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
the second realization came during an attempt to kill you.
you were the chosen target—a calculated decision. your public image, carefully nurtured by those who sought to use you, made your death a tragedy worth orchestrating. the explosive had been hidden cleverly in the heart of your favorite restaurant, the one you frequented for its thick slices of fresh bread and macadamia milk.
when it detonated, your world fractured. your vision blurred, your ears rang, and blood trickled warm and sticky down your face. the floor rose to meet you, the lacquered wood pressing cold against your cheek. the world went in and out like the weak signal of a radio. someone was screaming—it might have been your mother, though you doubted she cared enough to wail like that.
through the haze, a hand cupped your jaw, firm but careful, and your head was turned until your eyes locked on sevika’s. her gray gaze steadied you, cutting through the chaos. you raised a hand, your french manicured tips trailing lightly against her cheek. one of them, you noticed, was broken.
“[name]. [name], look at me. don’t take your eyes off me.”
“vika,” you whispered, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer. for the first time, you saw fear flicker across her face.
“it’s me,” she said softly. “you’re going to be fine, but i need to get you up. i need to get you out of here.”
you didn’t want to move. here, cradled in her hands, was where you wanted to stay.
“i can hold you, princess,” she murmured, her voice impossibly tender. “if that’s what you want. but i have to move you first. deep breath, okay? here we go.”
she lifted you as though you weighed nothing, her strength unyielding. you clung to her, your broken nails digging into her skin as she carried you through the wreckage. bodies lay strewn across the floor, and your heart broke when you recognized the familiar face of a favorite server.
“it’s okay,” sevika said, her voice a steady anchor. “look at me. just keep looking at me.”
and you did. your gaze drifted to the soft curve of her throat; your face tilted toward her as though she were the sun.
when she laid you on the stretcher, a terrible fear seized you. you reached for her, desperation clawing at your chest.
“stay with me. bitte. bitte, ich flehe dich an.”
sevika froze. if it had been anyone else, she might have refused and headed back to assess the security breach. but it wasn’t anyone else. it was you.
“i’m right behind you, sweetheart,” she promised, her hand pressing firmly to your stomach. “right behind you. just in that car.”
“danke, vika,” you murmured, your voice breaking. “du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du.”
even as the ambulance doors closed, your eyes never left her. you focused on the faint hum of her engine trailing behind you, the sound steady against the fevered rush of your heart.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
sevika was unforgiving after that, and you selfishly enjoyed the over-attention.
she stole you away, back to your flat, and hovered. always within reach, always watching, her presence as constant as the air you breathed. you hated it. you loved it.
she insisted on being in the room while you bathed, while you ate, while you tried to pretend your body wasn’t trembling from the aftershocks of the explosion. the weight of her gaze pressed into your skin like a second layer. she dressed your wounds with quiet efficiency, her fingers steady but firm, and even when you flinched, she refused to soften her touch.
“you should’ve told me this one was hurting,” she murmured one evening, crouched at your side with a damp cloth in hand. her voice was scolding, but there was an undercurrent of something wounded beneath it—something that hadn’t healed properly since the restaurant.
“it’s fine,” you said, looking anywhere but at her.
“it’s not fine,” she snapped, gripping your wrist a little too tightly before loosening her hold. “you don’t tell me when you’re in pain. you don’t—” she stopped herself, shaking her head as if to clear it.
her jaw worked, muscles tight, and you stared at the curve of her throat as she leaned over you, wiping dried blood away with the kind of precision that only made your chest ache.
“you’re smothering me,” you said softly, more to yourself than her, but her head snapped up like you’d struck her.
“you almost died,” she bit out, and the words made you flinch harder than her grip.
“but i didn’t,” you countered, hating the way your voice trembled.
you could be such a child. it crippled you, your desire to please her, to be less burdensome. she’d kill you if she knew what you were thinking. thank god it was your secret.
sevika’s lips parted, but no words came. just that unfaltering, infuriating look—one that said she knew better, that she always knew better, and that you knew this to be true. you raised a finger, traced the glistening edges of her teeth. she kept her mouth open; she never bit down.
and then one evening, you decided you’d had enough.
“i’m going out,” you said, pulling a thick coat of fur—vintage—over your shoulders.
sevika, seated in the chair by the window, didn’t look up from the blade she was sharpening. “no, you’re not.”
“yes, i am,” you replied, voice clipped.
her eyes flicked up to meet yours, the air thickening.
“why would i agree to that?” she asked, standing slowly, her full height suddenly overwhelming in the small space. “why would i let you walk out of here after i almost lost you last time?”
you laughed bitterly, shaking your head.
“let me? you’re not my keeper, vika.”
“really?” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “should we do another read of my contact? i’m the person who pulled you out of the rubble. i’m the person who’s been keeping you alive, no thanks to your recklessness.”
“recklessness?” you snapped, whirling to face her fully. “if you’ve learned anything these past years, it is that i am rarely reckless. you promised me. you said you wouldn't be another dictator. you know what my life’s been like. i am allowed to have a life outside of this, outside of what has happened to me.”
her nostrils flared, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“you think i’m doing this for me?” she asked, her voice rough, uneven. “you think i like this?”
“yes,” you spat, the frustration spilling out of you in an unstoppable wave. “this is the most excitement i’ve given you. you must think i’m so fucking boring all of the time. so, yes, i think you’re enjoying it. it makes you feel important. ”
something in her cracked. she closed the distance between you in two steps, her hand shooting out to grip your chin, tilting your face up to hers.
“i'm enjoying this?” she growled, her breath hot against your skin. “watching you get hurt? wondering if this time i’ll be too late? don’t mistake my care for control.”
her grip softened, her thumb brushing your jaw, and suddenly, the room felt unbearably small. you could see the pulse in her throat, the heat in her gaze as her eyes searched yours.
“sevika,” you said. your self-righteousness had passed, and you were so deeply ashamed. “vika, that was unfair. i’m sorry. forgive me.”
her hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the solid warmth of her body against yours. her breath was shallow, her jaw tight, but her eyes—god, her eyes. they burned with something that made your knees weak.
“bitte,” you whispered.
“i’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling, “to keep you safe. to keep myself from—”
she cut herself off, her gaze flicking to your lips. and before you could say anything, before you could breathe, her mouth was on yours.
the kiss was searing, all teeth and desperation, her hand tightening on your waist as if she was afraid you might disappear. you gasped against her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, her neck, her hair. but just as quickly as it began, it ended. she pulled back, her breathing ragged, her eyes dark and stormy.
“don’t push me like that again,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
and then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you alone with the echo of her touch.
you crumpled like a paper doll and began to sob. outside, sevika, having turned back, pressed her forehead against the wall. absent-mindedly, the fingers of her prosthetic twitched and aborted their motions, jerking against the door as if fighting to feel you there.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
you needed to repay her for your abhorrent behavior.
you tried through what you knew: lavish breakfasts, waking up early to purchase her favorite flowers and sweets. you’d even carefully cleaned and oiled her prosthetic. sevika said nothing, if only not to further provoke your guilt, but you could tell she felt it was unnecessary. she was always too easy on you.
the universe, however, seemed to agree with you, and the opportunity to protect sevika came faster than you ever expected.
it was another attempt, this time at a crowded gala in the heart of the city. you hadn’t wanted to go, but sevika had insisted—you wanted to go out. besides, you need to be seen. send a message. and she had been there, of course, always in the background, a silent shadow at your side.
you saw the glint of the blade before she did.
it was instinct. your body moved before your mind caught up, and suddenly, you were between sevika and the would-be assassin, your arm jerking upward to deflect the strike with the heavy bracelet you wore. the metal screeched against the blade, and a sharp pain radiated up your arm, but you didn’t falter.
with your other hand, you snatched a knife from the cocktail table behind you. it was small but sharp, and you used it without hesitation. you didn’t feel the burn of the blade as it nicked your palm on the thrust; you only felt the sickening resistance of flesh before the assailant crumpled at your feet.
“get down!” sevika’s voice was a thunderclap, her hand gripping your shoulder as she shoved you behind her. she moved with terrifying precision, her body a blur of strength and fury as she assessed the situation in seconds.
the room was instantly bursting with chaos. a flash of silver caught your eye as sevika swung her prosthetic arm, sending one of the other assailants sprawling. blood slicked the floor, and the copper tang of it hung heavy in the air. your ears rang with the cacophony of fists, steel, and slit flesh.
you shouldn’t have done that; you knew this. the headlines would be more than money could hide.
“fuck!” sevika’s voice cut through the din, sharp and furious, as she turned to find you standing there, breathing hard, your hands stained red. “what the hell did you do?”
“i—i had to,” you stammered, your chest heaving. “you didn’t see him—”
she grabbed your arm, dragging you toward the far side of the room where the air was clearer and less stifling. the fight was dwindling; the attackers were now being rounded up by security, but sevika’s fury was just beginning.
“what were you thinking?” she hissed, her voice trembling. “do you have a death wish?”
you ripped your arm from her grasp, your own anger bubbling to the surface.
“i was saving you! or would you rather i let him stab you in the back?”
“i don’t need you to save me!” she snapped, stepping closer, her broad shoulders towering over you.
“maybe i need to,” you shot back, tears pricking at your eyes. “i refuse to just sit here and watch you die for me. i won’t. you can’t ask that of me.”
her expression faltered, the rage in her eyes dimming, replaced by something heavier, something more understanding. she often forgot how young you were.
“princess, it's not—you don’t understand,” she said. “if anything happened to you—”
“you’d what?” you interrupted, your voice wavering as you stared up at her. “fall apart? i wouldn’t be any different, vika. you're far from inconsequential. i could not survive a world without you.”
the silence between you was deafening. her gaze dropped to your trembling hands, still clutching the bloodied knife, and she let out a low, shuddering breath. more security personnel arrived, breaking the stalemate. the room was secured, and sevika took that as her cue to remove you from the premises, dragging you through the back corridors, her hand iron-tight around your wrist.
the moment the door to your shared suite slammed shut, she spun on you. her eyes glistened as she glared at you, her body taut like a bowstring.
“you don’t get it, do you?” she said, stepping closer. “i can’t—” she broke off, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“you can’t what?” you asked, shifting toward her. “vika, tell me.”
her jaw worked, the muscles in her neck tightening as she tried to hold herself together.
“i feel like i’m so close to losing you,” she said finally, her voice low and broken.
the words hit you like a punch to the chest.
“you won’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t be without you in any way. i won’t allow it.”
her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. the space between you was so heavy. all you wanted was to smooth the worried line of her forehead, to share water with her, and wipe her clean.
“you can’t promise that,” she said finally.
you watched as she turned from you and slipped into the bathroom to begin getting ready for bed.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
she woke up with your head between her thighs.
sevika might’ve been more pleased about it if it wasn’t in the middle of the night. still, it wasn’t the worst way to come to.
the warmth spidered from her thighs to her hips before coiling tightly in her stomach. her eyes fluttered open, disoriented and struggling to focus. she heard you first: the wet suck of your mouth against her swollen, brown folds. you moaned somewhere deep and hidden in your chest, your hands tightening around the thickness of her thighs even though she was not yet bucking.
it took a while for her to place herself, and then it crashed into her all at once. she gasped and tucked a hand into your hair, which you removed so that you could intertwine your fingers, pressing them away from her head.
you unlatched from her and pressed a soft kiss into her stomach.
“stay still,” you commanded. “please.”
she allowed it.
you worked at her over and over, pushing the back the hood of her clit so you could roll it between your fingers like a rosy pearl. sevika let her pleasure crest until she shuddered into an unearthly orgasm, her legs snapping shut around your head just as a roll of thunder sounded through the early morning.
"couldn’t sleep?" she rasped.
you slowly unfastened her legs and raised your head from where you had been lapping at her, your full mouth glistening with her arousal. sevika sat up fully, legs shifting beneath the butter-yellow comforter, and stared down at you.
you looked back at her with wide eyes like she’d caught you sinning. you. you with your puppy eyes and open mouth. you, with your sweetness, with your eagerness when it came to her. you like a doe on the open road.
"no," you told her. "i couldn’t accept the idea that you hated me."
she sighed and cupped your cheek, thumbing across the plush skin.
"when you do or say something that displeases me, that doesn’t mean i hate you."
"if you’re displeased," you said, your voice thick across the last word, "then it feels the same to me."
with a huff of irritation, she yanked you up and into her lap, guiding you into a bruising kiss.
it wasn’t like the last time. this wasn’t desperation or fear—it was need. pure, unrelenting need. her hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against her, and you gasped into her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair.
she shifted you easily, rolling over so that you fell beneath her. her eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
“you drive me insane,” she murmured, her voice rough as her hand trailed down your side.
“good,” you whispered, pulling her back to you.
soon, kissing wasn’t enough. you had hungered for her for so long, and she for you.
wetly, your lips broke apart, and she slid back to survey you. the soft, muted light of the room caught on the intricate lace of your undergarments. the set was exquisite; the bra cupped you perfectly. you saw sevika's jaw tighten, her hands flexing at her sides as though restraining herself from reaching for you.
“you look…” her voice faltered, her control waning. “fuck, princess.”
heat spread across your body, and you felt the lace press a little tighter against your skin as your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
sevika leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours. her hand rose, hesitant at first, before her fingertips brushed the embroidered lace at your shoulder. she traced the pattern down your arm, her touch light but burning, before resting her palm at your waist.
“you wore this for me?” she murmured, her voice low and dark, as her thumb swept over the sheer fabric, catching on a pebbled nipple.
“who else?” you answered, a tremor in your voice as her hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you up into a soft arch.
she hummed in satisfaction and gently pulled your bra down so that it dipped beneath your tits as they spilled further into view. steadying you with a hand on your stomach, sevika leaned down and coaxed a hard bud into her mouth.
the wet heat of her mouth was akin to a strike of lightning. you moaned as she increased the pressure of her teeth, suckling eagerly at your chest as you pushed desperately into her touch. by instinct, your legs rose to cross behind her hips, forcing her to settle on top of you.
she let go of your nipple with a wet pop and switched to the other, beginning to work her way down your body with a pleased exhale. your panties didn’t even put up a worthy fight. they just slid right down, the fabric bunching around your thighs. the scrap of fabric had barely covered your cunt anyway, your thatch of hair poking through as if to tease her.
she watched your lips gleam and glisten, your pussy drooling with arousal and as deliciously plump as the rest of you. sevika pressed her mouth against it, practically a dog in heat, and relished the way you shivered up against her.
“vika,” you moaned and turned your face to the side in the way you did when you were overcome with embarrassment.
“baby,” she murmured, shifting so that she could force you to look at her. “baby, is this all for me?”
you whined, and sevika smirked, dipping her head down to lick a flat stripe up your dripping cunt.
“vika, fuck,” you cried, and she hummed, hooking a hand around one of your legs to pull it up so that you were further exposed. your clit was swollen and calling out for her.
pulling back, she used her free hand to part your lips so that she could watch the way you clenched around nothing. slick ran steadily down to the crack of your ass, a syrupy stream of desire. carefully, she stroked a metallic finger through your heat, holding you down as she began to rub your clit in tight circles.
“look at that pussy,” she murmured. “can’t believe it’s all mine, princess. thank you. thank you, baby.”
sevika couldn’t help herself and lifted her hand, bringing it down to slap against your cunt. you squealed, and she pressed a kiss to your thigh, delighting in your loss of composure. she considered you beneath her, your body slick and shining with sweat as you writhed. she rained two more strikes across your pussy in quick succession, dropping her head down and sliding her fingers in to let your buck into her open mouth and lolling tongue.
“taste so fucking good, princess,” she purred into you. “that’s it. ride my face, sweet girl. take what you want from me. take what you need.”
you gripped the bed, angling her hips so that you could drag her deeper into the cavern of your cunt. mewling, you trapped her between the link of your legs as you snapped upward and arched, cumming with a high sob.
“oh my god, vika.”
“just me,” she teased.
sevika waited for a couple of seconds before pushing up and rearranging you, sliding your back against her chest. carefully, she pushed your legs back apart and tucked three fingers up into your cunt, building a rhythm until she was thrusting hard enough that the overstimulation made you scream. you curled over yourself, your nails raking down her muscled thighs.
she milked you, patient and unrelenting, until you began to bounce on your own. you rode her hand. hard. slowly, your gummy walls tightened around her, whimpering through the flashes of pain and pleasure before you came again with a silent wail. sevika held you as you shook apart, whispering a stream of steady praises into your ear.
“good girl,” she cooed. “look at how good you are, princess. you needed this, huh? you’ve been begging for it, so desperate to cream all over me. such a good fucking girl.”
you slumped down, whimpering weakly as she pulled away from you. you felt her get up, slipping off the bed and walking somewhere into the darkness of the room. soon, she returned but not alone. you began to come back to yourself, and in doing so, you were able to focus on what she held in your hands.
“vika, that won’t fit.”
in her hand was a navy harness and matching dildo, girthy and ribbed. you tilted your head as she closed in, your hands finding her waist as if by instinct.
“sevika,” you whispered, your voice breaking as her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your throat.
“quiet, baby,” she muttered against your skin, and you sighed softly, the sound catching in your throat as her hands slid lower, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made you shiver. "you know you can take it."
you let out a pathetic, wet cry as she prodded at your puffy cunt, and her face softened. she pulled you closer, peppering your face with soft kisses. there was only her—her heat, her weight, her breath against your skin.
again she watched you, gripping you firmly from beneath your thighs as she nestled the tip of the dildo at the entrance of your pussy.
“princess,” she called to you, and you blinked blearily, clutching at her. “consider this forgiveness.”
it was all you ever wanted.
© hcneymooners.
translations. bitte — please. bitte, ich flehe dich an — please i beg of you. danke — thank you. du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du. — you are what i need. only you.
#sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#wlw#sapphic#lesbian#wlw smut#arcane smut#sevika arcane#mine ; 🐎.
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logan when you don't shave
logan howlett x reader
summary: you've been together for months, but how will he react when you forget to shave?
warnings: no smut but still nsfw
word count: 958
His touches make it feel like electricity is coursing through your whole body. Logan’s is simultaneously rough and delicate, his actions contradicting themself and leaving you all worked up.
You and Logan were supposed to be watching a movie tonight but he just can’t control himself around you. You were trying really really hard to focus on the movie but he made this an impossible task. The way he was rubbing tender circles on your thighs, inching further and further to your heat every once in a while, was driving you insane. His strong hands hold you in such a delicate grasp that fills your whole body up with a familiar warmth.
As the movie continued you could tell that Logan’s focus was tuned more onto you than the screen. The touches are slowly getting more impatient. Logan has your body memorized, cherishing every crevice and dip of your body.
The TV lights flicker in the dark, illuminating your features. Your eyebrows are ever so slightly scrunched as you pretend to pay attention to the movie. Logan stares at you with amazement, he will forever be in awe of your beauty. He inches towards you and wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer. At this point Logan isn't even trying to hide the fact that he's not watching the movie anymore. Then you feel soft pecking on your neck and jaw, causing your breath to hitch. No one needs superhuman abilities to hear how fast your heart is beating.
“Do y’know how pretty you are, sweetheart?” Logan whispers to you.
You turn your head to respond to him, but the second that you open your mouth, his lips are attached to yours. Heavy hands wrap around your whole body, holding you tight. The kiss is passionate yet tender. Logan’s actions are a reflection of how badly he needs you.
Warmth radiates through your whole body. Without thinking your thighs rub together, attempting to give you any form of satisfaction. Noticing this, Logan places his hand behind your head as he guides you to lay down on the couch. Never breaking the kiss. His big hands continue to explore your body with a sense of hunger. The kisses quickly go from tender to rough. You place your hands behind his neck and wrap your legs around him. Logan groans into your mouth at the feeling of your warm body on his. Your panties get damp at that sound alone. And just like that he grinds down on you, both of your clothed centers rubbing on each other. Logan knows how to leave you feeling worked up. As the feeling of pleasure is taking over you, you whimper out his name with a soft sigh.
“Mmm you sound so pretty,” Logan says with a needy tone. “Need you s’ bad.”
A tug on your pants lets you know how eager he is. This feeling of your pants beginning to come off makes you jolt in embarrassment. After remembering that you didn't shave, your whole body is filled with nerves. Breaking the kiss, Logan instantly senses your body’s reaction. He looks down at you with a concerned gaze as he rubs comforting circles on your arm.
“Something wrong, darlin’?” He asks you. “Y’know you can always tell me if something is bothering you?”
Some men hate when you don't shave and some men say they don't mind it, when in reality they do. Its only been a few months with him but to avoid any issues you always shaved. Your fear of Logan’s reaction electrified your senses.
“It's just…I didn't really have the time..” You avoid eye contact in embarrassment before you responded. “I’ve just been pretty busy lately and I forgot to properly clean up…”
You look back at Logan only to find a confused look written all over his face. A horn must've grew out the middle of your forehead the way he was staring at you.
“I just haven't shaved and so maybe we should do this another time y’know?” You answer.
Just like that his confusion is wiped away and replaced with small laughter. Oh God. This is pure humility. You just confessed that and he was giggling? Just simply laughing at you? You instantly regret even telling him that much.
“Sweetheart,” Logan says with a chuckle, “I've been alive for over 200 years and you really think I can't handle a little bit of hair?”
Your eyes are drawn back to him as you listen.
“I don't know about any of those boys you've been with but I'm a man. I could give less of a fuck how you choose to present yourself to me, as long as it's you I'm fine.” He assures you, “In all honesty, if someone is giving that much of theirself to me, and I stop to worry about some hair, then I’ve gotta have some issues, angel.”
As simple as that, all humility leaves your body instantly. His words are genuine and comforting. Making you feel desired comes easy to Logan.
With a low tone he asks you, “You hear me? I want you no matter what. I will never let anything as miniscule as hair stop me from loving you. You got that?”
You cup his face in your hands as you stare up at him. The love he has for you makes your entire body tingle. His rough mutton chops rub between your fingers as you admire him. With a small nod you respond to him.
“Mmmkay” is all you can manage to get out under his gaze.
Logan grins as he hovers over you while placing sweet kisses on your collarbone, “Lemme just show you how much all that doesn't matter to me, sweet thing.”
#fanfic#smut#angst#fanfiction#logan wolverine#logan howlett fanfic#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fanfic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan fanfiction#logan fanfic#wolverine smut#wolverine fluff#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fluff#wolverine#logan howlett#x men#xmen fanfiction#wolverine x you#wolverine xmen#wolverine x deadpool#logan howlet x reader#fan fiction#fan fic rec#fanfiction author#logan wolverine x reader#xmen first class
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tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues
Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.
It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.
Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.
That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.
***
You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.
He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.
It's not a bad thing.
But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.
"Come on... Don't look at me like that."
He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.
Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.
"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.
Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.
He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.
"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.
Thump, thump, thump.
Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.
He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.
"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."
You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.
"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"
He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.
Were you trying to say welcome back?
His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.
"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."
You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.
"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"
Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.
Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...
It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.
"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.
Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.
His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.
"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"
You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.
He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."
When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."
Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.
His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."
It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.
"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.
You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.
Oh.
It's starting again hm?
Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.
***
The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.
"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"
Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.
"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.
"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.
His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.
"Come for me," he demands.
And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.
But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.
He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.
"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.
He'll do anything for his girl.
Anything.
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i keep seeing this post appear on my feed and it annoys me every time i see it.
no, Boeing didn't have anyone killed. we're all just uncritically saying "Boeing had a guy killed" and not actually reading into it.
okay, sure, cops lie, but there is quite literally no evidence that John Barnett was murdered.
on the contrary, the available evidence (which would have been found and reported by, you know, medical examiners? people whose job it is to find out how someone died and aren't actually that easy to manipulate into making a murder look like a suicide) says that Barnett shot himself and it is unfeasible for him to have been shot by someone else, considering the trajectory of the wound.
nor does it even make sense for him to have been shot because, you know, that would actually raise suspicion and be an even bigger PR disaster than they're already dealing with? Boeing's board of directors are possibly that evil, but they aren't that stupid.
the other guy they "assassinated", Joshua Dean, died of pneumonia and a stroke brought on by flu and MRSA, which, forgive me, seems like a pretty fucking roundabout way to take someone out.
in the first instance, Boeing didn't need to have John Barnett killed. they harangued the guy and turned people against him to the point he got PTSD. he suffered a nervous breakdown as a result and shot himself from stress. the whole "if something happens, it's not suicide" thing? Yeah, sometimes people say stuff like that. In fact, doesn't that perhaps point to the fact the guy was thinking of killing himself and trying to convince himself not to?
in the second instance, the guy just got sick and died. it's not that unusual for that to happen, particularly if you are middle-aged and under incredible stress making your immune system less effective.
conspiracy theories are a type of false consciousness, even when they're nominally "left-wing". it's taking a cargo-cult approach to understanding, interpreting and critically examining the systems of violence and destruction that are wreaking havoc on the Earth.
there is no shadowy group of nefarious evildoers ordering the murders of whistleblowers, there is simply a large corporation leveraging its ability to put so much stress on people they either give up on trying to bring them to book, or, tragically, die.
there is no conspiracy. there is only capital.
Remember earlier this year when Boeing very clearly had a whistleblower executed? And law enforcement didn't even look for anyone or release any info about it or anything?
People keep comparing Luigi Mangione's case to the subway murderer who got off because of systemic eugenics, but I think there's something more apt about the fact that a CEO had someone executed in recent memory, with zero attempts to find a culprit, while they spared no expense at all to find (and probably frame, it's beginning to look like) someone who shot a CEO. It's always fine to slaughter if you're rich, but if you kill the rich, they will hunt you down.
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stepbro rafey who fucks you in front of the family portrait so he can watch guilt induced tears roll down ur pretty face :(
absolutely in love w this !!! cw ; stepcest, dubcon, dacryphilia, p in v, icky rafe
stepbro!rafe has a fucked up sense of humour. he’s always been .. a little twisted. a little cruel. he corners you in the living room, icy blue eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of lust and malice. the cameron family portrait hangs to the right of the sofa you’re currently perched on, innocent eyes warily looking up at his angular face. he’d been .. looking at you a little differently these past few weeks.. and it had anxiety settling itself deep down in your tummy. you didn’t like it. he was older than you, bigger, stronger. ward and rose weren’t home, wheezie was with a friend, and sarah was off who knows where with her ragtag group of pogues. just the two of you tonight.
“what’s up, rafe?” you question quietly, trying to discreetly pull up the neckline of your tanktop. his lips curl into a slow, wolfish smirk, something so distinctly predatory you feel like sprinting. rafe doesn’t answer your question immediately, eyes flicking between your face and your cleavage. “‘what’s up?’” he echos, caging you in when he moves to take a seat uncomfortably close to you. his thighs touch yours as he stretches an arm over you to rest on the armrest, broad shoulders blocking your escape. “you tell me, sweetheart. you’ve been a little.. skittish ‘round me recently. makes me wonder what y’so nervous ‘bout.”
“‘m not nervous,” you stammer, shrinking further into the cushions. your heart thunders at his proximity. “well, um — if you’re done, ‘m jus’ gonna—”
before you can finish, rafe’s hand shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly. not painfully, not yet, but enough for you to freeze. “nah,” he interrupts, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. the act is deceptively gentle, but you know his intentions are anything but pure. “wanna talk to you. y’know how much i love you,” he says with a grin, eyes darkening as he glances down to your wet lips. you have a feeling his idea of love isn’t the same as yours.
rafe leans back on the couch, pointing across to the portrait. it was new, recently commissioned to include you. the newest cameron. ward and rose were at the front, his self-satisfied smirk and her pristine smile looking painfully fake. wheezie was between them, her face shining the brightest. at the back, were sarah, rafe and you, his body directly behind you. in the picture, you’d plastered on a polite smile, though if someone looked closer, they’d be able to see the terrified glint to your eyes. rafe had gotten incredibly close, arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting low on your hips. he looked perfect in the portrait, hair perfectly styled, clothes crisp; the epitome of the man ward had raised him to be. ”wha’cha think, huh?”
you shrink into the couch, lips forming a line as you force your words out. “yeah — looks nice.” rafe sucks on his teeth, nodding his head to himself. you move to get up again but this time he’s prepared, grabbing you by the midriff. you think you hear him say “you look so pretty when you’re scared,” but the next thing you know his lips are on yours in a searing, sloppy, wet kiss. it’s all teeth and tongue and it’s so, messy.
you try resist, try hitting him in the shoulder but all he does is take that as confirmation to slip his tongue deeper down your throat. his fingers curl into your top, pads of his fingers dragging against your nipples, pulling you closer. your mind is reeling with the implications of this but your treacherous body betrays you, heat pooling heavy and low in your tummy despite the shame clawing its’ way out of your chest.
rafe groans when you finally manage to land a punch to his sternum, breaking away from you. a string of saliva connects the two of you before snapping, and silence fills the room, nothing except the sounds of your combined panting. “been wantin’ to do that f’a while.” he sounds so cocky, so assured, like he’d planned this the entire time.
“what the fuck,” you whisper, a shaky finger tracing your kiss-bitten lips. “what the fuck, rafe!” you feel the tears spring to your eyes immediately, and rafe’s face lights up like a kid on christmas.
he’s moving, grabbing you by the arms and flipping you over, throwing you like a ragdoll until your upper body is positioned over the armrest. “rafe — rafe wait — wait what.. rafe! we can’t. we, can’t.”
“no one’s here to stop us, baby. c’mon gimme what i want. ‘know you wan’ it too. don’t think i don’t see the ‘lil looks y’throw at me.” you hear him shuffling around, the clink of a belt, and suddenly something long and hard is poking you. “rafe! please!” you sob, even if deep, deep down you knew he was right. you felt so dirty. “‘s’okay, y’family now, right? family helps each other.”
his fingers crawl up your lower half, pulling down your pants and undies just enough for him to expose the globes of your ass and your leaking cunt. “mmmh yeah, see? knew it. its, uh, it’ll be okay. ‘m gonna make it good f’you.” he swipes his cock against your folds a few times, coating his thickness in your dewy wetness, using another hand to hold down your body as you struggle. and then he’s surging in, hips flush against yours within a second. your pussy grips him tight, clenching down on him like a vice, so hard rafe almost doubles over. “shiiit.”
it feels like too much and not enough. you’re full, so incredibly full you swear if you looked at your tummy you’d see his dick poking through. he gives you a second before pulling out slowly and slamming back into you, the couch screeching against the marble with the movement. rafe’s hand curls itself into your hair, twisting it until he can pull your head up. you can barely see the maniacal look in his eyes through your blurry vision, cheeks wet with hot tears.
“look at that,” he breaths out against your ear. your brain is so mushy you don’t even know what he’s talking about until he’s making you look right at the portrait. “perfect little family, yeah? haaah, bet they’d lose their minds if they saw their sweet, innocent girl letting her stepbrother ruin her like this.” he’s destroying you, right under their noses and it fuels him like no high ever could. oh, how he wished they could see you now, all your guilt and shame and the underlying lust. he loves it.
he punctuates it with a harsh thrust, one that has you moaning and subconsciously arching into him. he leans over you, watching the tears fall down your delirious face before licking your cheek with a broad tongue stroke. “keep y’eyes on them,” he nearly growls, voice dripping with raw hunger. his fingers dig painfully into your hips as he sets a brutal pace. “wanna make ‘em watch you cry.”
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