#i might be proved wrong later but so far . | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mimiiiiiiiiisstuff · 27 days ago

Text

"You're gonna go far"

okay yall this is chapter one! if it sucks or doesn't make sense pls don't hate. might take it down later if i decide i hate it. likes, comments, and reblogs encourage me!!!I brainstormed this pretty fast so it might be messy.

lmk if there's any plot holes! This is the week following the failed patrol and Tiffany taking reader's credit. About 6 to 7 months after Tiffany moved in.

The first day after the incident, you had stayed in your room, nursing the bitter sting of betrayal. You couldn’t even remember the last time they’d acknowledged your existence. Tiffany, of course, was the shining star of the household. While you were holed up in your bedroom, processing the snakebite that had changed everything, Tiffany was out there, winning their favor with her charm, her sweet smiles, and her sugar-coated lies. You spent all night aching and feeling your bones shattering in your skin, feeling your skin peel off, and your teeth sharpen and make your mouth bleed.

The day started with her knocking on your door, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I heard what happened last night... but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just walk it off, right? Just a snake bite! You weren't even supposed to be on patrol, Dad said that you can't be part of the team. You're not skilled enough.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. How could you? It wasn’t a matter of walking it off. The venom inside you had begun to manifest, the snake-like power curling through your veins, but Tiffany's words twisted the knife further. You could see the smug look in her eyes as she added, “It’s okay. I’m here now. I know you’re upset, but let’s just move past it. You need some tough love”

You didn’t know what to expect when the transformation took hold that night. One minute, you were trying to cry yourself to sleep the next—your skin tingled, muscles shifting, twisting beneath the surface. The bite on your neck from the damn snake burned like fire, but something deeper, something inside you, urged you to embrace it. Again you felt your mouth burn, your body tingle, your skin shed and a searing pain from the waist down.

As you lay flat against the wall, your hands pressed against the cool surface you couldn’t help but grin, pain was better than numbness. You weren’t just Bruce Wayne's outcast daughter, nor were you the wannabe batgirl, as Stephanie liked to call you, you were something else now, something powerful.

The first time you ejected venom from your fingertips, you almost dropped your phone in surprise. It was cold, sharp, and terrifying in its power. It didn’t make sense. You could feel the agility coursing through you, every muscle in your body aligning with the new capabilities as if your very bones were made for this transformation. This wasn’t you anymore.

The idea of getting even, of showing them all that you weren’t weak or invisible, had always been a fantasy. But now, it didn’t feel like a fantasy. It felt real, solid in a way that left you trembling. You weren’t just going to prove them wrong. You were going to become something they could never ignore again. And they would never see it coming.

But what now? The Batfamily—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, all of them—had given you nothing but pain and neglect for years. They didn’t understand you, didn’t care to. They couldn’t see past their perfect image of family long enough to see you. Now, with this power, you didn’t need them. You never did.

Except… there was Tiffany.

She was their new perfect darling, their shining star. Every time she took a step into their world, they’d fawn over her, ruffle her hair, praise her as though she could do no wrong. You had tried to be perfect for them, but perfection never got you what you wanted. It never got you love. It never got you acceptance.

She was a liar, a fraud, and she’d ruined your life. You'd tried to warn them, tried to tell them what she really was—what she was doing behind their backs. But they chose to believe her over you. They always did.

So it was time for them to learn. To know what you were capable of.

You wouldn’t hurt them but you would make them understand. You would show them your worth, show them what they had turned their backs on. No more hiding. No more being invisible. You’d be the storm they couldn’t control, the one they couldn’t ignore.

One by one, you would take back everything that was stolen from you.

The next day Bruce didn’t even acknowledge you when he passed you in the hallway. You wanted to tell him about the snake, about the strange scary things going on in your body, of the violent thoughts running through your mind but the words died in your throat in fear of ridicule. You stood there, heart racing, desperately hoping he’d say something, anything, just a hint of recognition. But he didn’t. Tiffany was at his side, her arm linked through his as they strolled past you. She was chattering on about some trivial matter, and you could feel the coldness in Bruce's demeanor. No eye contact. No words. Nothing.

It was as if you weren’t there. It hurt, more than you could have imagined. And yet it wasn't anything new.

Alfred, the one person who might’ve shown you compassion, didn’t even make you breakfast. You waited in the kitchen, hoping for something—anything. But no, Tiffany had already filled the void with her charming demeanor, sitting at the table with Alfred, chatting about some charity event.

You stood there, waiting. Watching. Silent.

Eventually, you turned and left. Alfred hadn't even looked up when you walked out.

Damian.

Your little brother who you tried so hard to bond withhad taken to sneering at you when you crossed paths with more anomosity than usual. His usual arrogance and distaste for you had only intensified. You had caught him once, whispering something to Tiffany about how "pathetic" you were. “Father’s blood runs through me, not through you,” he had muttered under his breath. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to break down right then and there. The venom inside you seemed to thrum in response, as if it recognized the cruel words, feeding off them.

Later, you overheard him tell Tiffany, “You’re far more worthy of being in this family than she’ll ever be.”

Jason, who you once thought of as a brother, the only one who could’ve understood you, had turned his back completely. You had tried to reach out to him and tell him of the pains at night, to apologize for whatever wrongs you’d committed, but all he did was glare at you. A snide comment about how “you wouldn’t know what it means to feel pain” and then he walked away, his back to you as he followed Tiffany down the stairs.

Your heart shattered.

Tim was... absent, but his absence was worse than anything. He made no effort to reach out, barely acknowledging you when you passed by. When you tried to speak with him, to ask how his day had gone, he merely gave you a dismissive shrug and muttered something about needing to “work.” Tiffany, on the other hand, always had time for him. She seemed to be everything you were not—everything they wanted. She was their perfect daughter, their perfect sibling. She was the one who belonged.

You tried to slip into the shadows, but the truth was, you felt like you were already invisible.

You and Duke used to be friends when he first came, till he realized Stephanie was much cooler than you. Maybe you could hang with them in the cave, maybe they could help figure out what was happening to you. Maybe even talk to Barbra and Cassandra!

The Batcave was eerily quiet when you worked up the nerve to enter. You were sitting at a workstation, trying to work up the courage to talk to any of your siblings but your thoughts kept drifting. Tiffany had completely woven herself into the fabric of the team, and everyone else, even Duke, seemed content to ignore you.

You and Duke had once been close. He’d been one of the few people who had ever tried to make you feel like you belonged in the manor. You remembered the late-night conversations, sharing stories and laughter, plotting out plans for how you could prove your worth to the family. But now, every time you glanced in his direction, there was nothing but distance and confusion.

you could feel his presence across the room. He and Tiffany were standing by one of the equipment stations, speaking in hushed tones. You tried to ignore them. It hurt too much to look at Duke, to see how easily he had fallen under Tiffany's spell, how effortless it was for him to ignore you now.

Tiffany was front and center, as usual. Her presence always seemed to command attention, like a star that everyone gravitated toward. You had grown used to the way they all fawned over her, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Duke, you’re up next,” Tiffany called out, a smile playing at her lips. Her voice was sweet, but you could hear the subtle edge beneath it. A tone that made your blood boil. She wasn’t just charming them, she was playing them.

“You know, I’d never say no to a challenge, Tiff.” he said, his voice almost affectionate.

“You’re the best, Duke,” Tiffany purred, clearly pleased.

You glanced at Barbara, hoping for something—a glance, a small acknowledgment—but her eyes were glued to her computer screen. She might as well have been miles away.

Cassandra, as usual, was focused on her training. She hadn’t ever shown interest in you, and today was no different. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver from the sparring targets she was working through, ignoring you entirely.

You sighed, not wanting to add to the already uncomfortable tension in the air. The weight of it was overwhelming. But you couldn’t help but overhear the rest of Duke and Tiffany’s conversation.

“I’m telling you, Duke,” Tiffany was saying with a laugh, “you’ve got this in the bag. You’ve been training for years, they’re never going to see it coming.”

Duke chuckled, clearly reveling in her praise. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure I trust the plan,” he said, glancing at the others. “You really think it’ll work?”

Tiffany’s smile was cold and calculating. “Trust me, it will. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and with your skills, we’ll have it done in no time. Just follow my lead.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up, even if you weren’t sure why you were still trying. You knew they didn’t care, but some part of you still clung to hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. You and Duke were friends, he wouldn't ignore you. You didn't want Tiffany to pressure him into a plan he wasn't sure of.

“Tiffany, why don’t you give Duke some space?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “He might want to work out his own plan, you know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Duke’s expression darkened, and so did everyone else's. Even Barbra glanced at you.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Tiffany asked, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you had any input. I guess it’s cute that you think Duke needs your help.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good, [Y/N]. Really. Tiffany’s got this. Don’t you have some... other place to be?”

Your mouth burned and your bones ached, since when did Duke treat you like this? What right did he have? You were friends, friends aren't mean to friends.

Your fists clench, "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" You spit out, unusually angry and brave.

His eyes softened for a second but then Duke looked up at you, his gaze colder than you remembered. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just… you don’t really fit in with the rest of us."

The words felt like a slap in the face. Tiffany was the one with the skills. Tiffany was the one who was flawless. Tiffany was the one who didn’t need to try. Tiffany fit in.

You wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why you were being discarded like this. You tried, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you silent. Duke wasn’t the person you had once leaned on. He wasn't your friend anymore. you could feel the deep divide between you both now, a gap named betrayal.

Before you could respond, Stephanie, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward. “Come on, (Y/N), don’t waste our time. If you don’t have anything useful to add, just leave. You’ll be better off on your own.”

Your eyes snapped to her. Of all people, you didn’t expect Stephanie to be so blunt. But here she was, her arms crossed and her eyes not even looking in your direction as she spoke.

Tiffany shot Stephanie a glance of approval. “Exactly, Steph. They’ll just slow us down. Maybe you should go back to the kitchen and bake something.”

The words were meant to belittle you, to remind you of the one thing they knew you were good at, baking, and nothing more. You felt your fists clench, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

Duke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. His silence spoke volumes. You could feel the finality of it, the way the space between you both had grown too big to bridge.

“You don’t have to listen to them,” Tiffany continued, her voice smooth, "You’re not part of the team. Just let it go. It’s better for everyone.”

Tiffany’s manipulation was sickening. But what hurt the most was that Duke was going along with it. He had always been the one person who had made you feel like you mattered in this cold, detached family. And now? He was treating you like you were nothing. He had chosen her over you. The reality of it hit you like a t train.

“Fine,” you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, ignoring the burning of your eyes and the hole in your chest.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, the cold stares of Tiffany, Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra burning into your back. no matter how hard you had tried, how many times you had bent over backwards to prove your worth, it would never be enough for them.

The final blow came that night on the 7th night after the incident and the day after Duke's betrayal.

Tiffany had won. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She won their trust, their love. Now, she was going to make sure you were out of the picture for good.

You overheard Bruce and Tiffany speaking in his study, a room you were never allowed to enter.

“I think it’s for the best,” Tiffany said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet. “She’s so... incompetent. Maybe a change of scenery will help her grow.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied, his voice cold, indifferent. “But it’ll also keep her away from Gotham for a while. From the family.”

“It’ll be better for everyone,” Tiffany continued. “She’s been so distant lately, and honestly, I don’t think she fits in here. She doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll have Alfred make the arrangements tomorrow,” Bruce said, his tone final. “It’ll be good for her. A change of pace. A chance to learn discipline.”

And just like that, your life as you knew it ended.

You would be sent away to a boarding school in New York City. They didn’t even give you the courtesy of telling you themselves. Tiffany had already manipulated the situation, convinced them that it was for the best. That you didn’t belong. That you needed to be removed from the family.

Later That Night

You sat in your room, fists clenched, eyes burning with tears you refused to shed. You could hear Tiffany’s laughter echoing in the halls as she paraded through the manor, a crown on her head that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t going to cry. Not anymore. You weren’t going to beg for their attention. For their love. No. You had something far more dangerous now. Something that didn’t need them. Something that would show them all just how wrong they were. The venom in your veins burned brighter now. You could feel it coiling around your bones like a living, breathing thing. You would prove them all wrong. You would go to New York and never look back.

Ok I tried my best guys be nice! I just had so many ideas and didn't know how to execute them! Send in asks! I wanted to get the plot moving tbh

1K notes · View notes

yuellii · 1 year ago

Text

PLEASE ( DON’T ) BE MY WINGWOMAN !

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 his female best friend tries to help him win your love, but knowing her, it all goes wrong

feat. lyney, neuvillette, ayato ( separate )

note. gn reader, features : lynette, furina, ayaka. hello i am officially back and also officially 21 !! :]

LYNEY.

“Oh, woe is me! Please assist, my dearest sister!” The magician sat sprawled atop the couch quite dramatically, backhand over his forehead feigning feverish feelings. “Whatever shall I do when the God of Romance is plotting against a hopeless romantic, such as I?”

“What’s wrong this time?” By contrast, his sister’s voice proved no fluctuations, tone lacking the honeyed sound he needed for sympathy. Instead of catering to his sorrows, she instead sipped lightly at her tea, for it was far more relaxing than her brother’s ‘woes.’

Still, Lyney sighed. “The love of my life—my soulmate!” he cried out. “How should I win the affections of my other half, when I can’t even grasp the scale of romantic favor?”

“Desserts.”

Lyney sat up. “I beg your pardon?”

“Give desserts,” Lynette shrugged. “Everyone likes desserts.” This reasoning totally made the most sense to her.

She watched as Lyney started at her blankly for just a moment, and then he inhaled sharply. “So I should… use desserts as my gift…” With each passing word, Lynette watched as a staggering excitement in his voice grew tenfold. “And then, if I keep giving their favorite treats”—Lyney gasped—“they’ll start to associate the sweetness with me! Oh, Lynette, you’re a genius!”

Lynette blinked at him. That strategy explanation was not what she said at all, but whatever. Not her problem.

But when Lyney dragged her by the hand to go purchase desserts, and then forced her to sit down at the cafe just to watch him gift treats to you, then maybe it was her problem.

“A very special dessert!” he presented, and Lynette sat with disinterest as she watched your eyes light up at his cheap old appearance trick. “For a very special person.” And now came her own eye roll—caused by the way Lyney giggled to himself at the end of his own sentence.

Maybe it was charming ( but personally Lynette didn’t see the appeal ), because there was a sparkle that appeared in your eyes in admiration of him. And suddenly, Lynette didn’t understand why he was trying to win your love at all, because it’s clear to her that he’s already won it.

“This is for me?” she heard you say. “This is actually my favorite! Oh, Lyney, you shouldn’t have!”

“Don’t even worry,” she watched Lyney wave off. “It was given to me for free at the shop”—Huh?—“and I have no space for it”—What was he…?—“so I thought you might like it!”

Lynette blinked to herself. Then she blinked to herself again. And then one more time, and now Lyney was back to her spot with you no longer in sight. “How did I do?” Lyney excitedly questioned her. “A good start, right? Step one of your idea to get my crush to become obsessed with me is complete!”

Okay first of all, that was literally not her idea, but maybe she should’ve communicated it better. And second, “Why did you lie? That dessert wasn’t free—You specifically bought it to give to them.”

Lyney immediately raised a finger with that confident smirk of his. “Because, my dear sister,” he began, “it’s called playing hard to get.”

If she could sigh, she would. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am! And I’m taking this game very seriously, too. Do you know how hard it is to keep my cool when I’m around the love of my life?!”

“Playing hard to get just makes it harder to get someone, Lyney. They might lose interest and move on.” But still, Lyney insisted. And still, Lynette just silently rolled her eyes.

The next time this happened was literally only a day later. So much for playing “hard to get,” she supposes. Perhaps Lyney didn’t quite fully understand the scope of how suspicious it was to offer you another “free dessert” only a day later. Or, he was just so lovestruck he absolutely could not wait to talk to you again.

Lynette decided the answer to be the latter option.

And once again, he claimed not to buy this dessert on his own, and Lynette did not miss the obvious eyebrow raise you gave her brother this time. You were still grateful since it was your favorite, of course, but it was rather clear you were beginning to question this. Lynette sighed to herself.

“Lynette!” Lyney called excitedly once he left you. “Oh, dear sister, did you see it this time? She stayed with me a bit longer—grabbing the plate much more slowly. She must have been at the start of falling in love with—!” Lyney stopped when he saw the empty seat. “Uh, Lynette?”

Farther away, you suddenly yelped in surprise, almost dropping the plated dessert in your hands.

“Sorry,” Lynette mumbled. Oops, she didn’t mean to scare you. But… maybe appearing in your field of sighs so suddenly once you turned a corner and coming from a darkened alleyway was not the most subtle.

“It’s alright,” you brushed of. “Oh, you must be Lynette, right? Lyney’s sister!”

“Correct.” Ah, how would she bring this up? She was never really the best with words… And definitely not when she had to use a lot of them. “Um, my brother,” she started. “Don’t mind him being weird.”

At the mention of her brother being weird ( perhaps she should defend him, but whatever, he was being weird. ), you seemed to relax. “Yeah…” you trailed off. “He’s been giving me these desserts lately—didn’t seem too coincidental that he keeps getting them for ‘free’… Especially since they’re, um, not even having a promotion right now.”

Again, if Lynette could wack her brother on the head right now, she would.

“He likes you.”

The sudden shock on your face tells Lynette that maybe she shouldn’t have said that so bluntly. Or that she shouldn’t have said that. At all.

“You’re a very dear friend to him,” she correct. Oh, wait, but she didn’t want to completely shut off the idea of romance. Correct it again, quick. “Or, very dear person… Yeah.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, probably trying to process the amount of confessions and corrections she just shot at you. Archons, you probably thought her and her brother were so weird. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame you.

“Thanks, Lynette,” you said, and she noticed your feet shift to walk away. “Actually, I think I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Well, Lyney certainly hoped you would. She just silently watched as you walked off. But she wasn’t worried, no. As long as you spoke of this “next time,” Lynette was sure her brother would eventually succeed with you, even if he was being weird at this game.

NEUVILLETTE.

The thing that gets Furina the most excited—absolutely elated, much shown in the way she kicks her feet and patters her fingers—is the fact that her dear Iudex has no idea he’s so in love with you.

To not only her, but also the rest of Fontaine, word is quick to spread with the simple way his feet always end up turned in your direction, or how lips curve a slight upwards motion when he speaks to you. Or, the way his feelings of admiration brings out the colors in his eyes, and the shyer tone in which he laughs along with you.

And Furina, being the bestest of friends she certainly is, only wants what’s best for the Chief Justice, truly! It’s such a downer seeing him be a quiet, unsociable, hard-to-get-along-with loner all the time. And so, the moment she catches wind of his feelings, she is more than quick to come up with a way to loop the two of you together.

She pats herself in the back. She’s confident that he’ll totally thank her for all her efforts later.

This confidence still yet remains even when she has you standing up nervously on trial, wide eyes a bit scared to be accused of a crime by the Hydro Archon herself. And Neuvillette atop his seat looks exasperated, much so in a way the audience is always eyeing him with fluttering eyes and chattering whispers—because the Iudex is looking at you with such a public display of concern that he has never been known to show another on trial.

Oh, she could already see the Steambird’s morning headlines! Chief Justice Neuvillette casts eyefuls of worry towards the accused?! Or, The Iudex’s rumored lover: Accused by Lady Furina?! —Oh, oh! She was so excited!

Amidst her internal giggles was when Neuvillette’s cane came hammered down on the wooden floor of his balcony seat, silencing every voice in the Opera Epiclese. “Furina,” his voice scatters as firm as ever, though the Archon could some people gasp to themselves—Ah, she could always trust her people to spot even the slightest difference in his voice; He was clearly angrier today! “I believe you have some explaining to do.”

“Is it not obvious, my dear Iudex?” she loudly proclaimed as if acting in a performance. Her voice was playful and teasing as always, and she could tell Neuvillette was much more annoyed by it than usual today. “I am pressing charges against a darling citizen, yet a criminal over here…!”

And that was when she threw the back of her hand over her forehead for dramatic effect, making you only more nervous upon your stand. Such an increase in your fear was clearly noticeable to the Iudex, of course, as he immediately spoke to silence the Archon accusing you.

“And what would those charges entail, Furina?”

There was a sudden glare in his eyes, almost threatening. But oh well, nothing he could do—She knew he would stick by the law and allow her to make her claim anyways. This was so easy, she could almost laugh to herself!

“For…”

Oh, celebration was already at the back of her mind!

“Murder!”

…Holy shit. Oh Archons. She was supposed to say theft. “Theft,” for stealing Neuvillette’s heart. But instead she slipped up and said murder.

Oh, she can’t take that back now. But… But no worries! She was the beloved Archon that had absolutely no issues performing for her people—ergo, she could totally come up with a new plan! Certainly, a single-word slip-up will surely not mess up her entire pickup line here.

“Yes, you heard me,” she played along, hands balling to fists and dramatically sitting at her hips. “Murder!”

“Furina!” Neuvillette silenced from his place below on the podium. Never before has she seen his facial expression this angered. There was a furrow between his brows that betrayed his usually calm and emotionless look—and aw, she thought it was so romantic for him to show these emotions so outwardly just for you! The audience must love his display of passion right now—all to defend your honor! “What is the meaning of this?” his voice boomed.

Furina cleared her throat. “Murder…” she began to make her case against you. You, who looked up at her so fearfully. She almost felt bad. “For… For breathing…!” Wait, that’s not what she meant. “No, no, like murder… of breath— of my breath— no, of Neuvillette’s breath, I mean—” Okay, at this point, she just needed to spit something out. And that was when she raised a finger, pointing it accusingly down at you and making her claim: “You killed Neuvillette!”

The next instance was filled with a silence so deafeningly powerful that she felt her own stomach churn and her knees grow shaky. Well, this was definitely an embarrassment she hopes to never feel again.

Surely, this silence wasn’t awkward enough for her land the finishing blow…?

“Like, you stole his breath away…” she tried. “So you technically killed him.”

Okay maybe it was time for her to shut up.

Neuvillette’s face; oh, he looked absolutely furious. This was not the picture-perfect sight of cherry tomato blushing she was hoping for here. And you: a horror-stricken disbelief. Your mind looked like it was racing to comprehend both being charged with such a serious crime, and having the Chief Justice just randomly outed in public for… having a crush on you…?

Meanwhile Furina stood still in her usual place, just about ready to curl up and die from her failed attempt at a love confession. But before that, perhaps Celestia heard her prayers.

The audience pretty much erupted in girlish screams and whispers—all those watchful citizens of Fontaine who treated your relationship with Neuvillette like the hottest topic of the century, like the storybook romance they were reading obsessively. And now, Furina watched—watched as your expression contorted to slow realization that maybe your Archon wasn’t exactly lying about Neuvillette’s feelings, and that maybe almost the entire nation was already romanticizing you two.

And then, there: that was when Furina watched as your face blew up an expression of pure embarrassment, all the fear being completely wiped away. Then Furina could almost die when she turned her gaze to Neuvillette—who was still watching you very intently—and how the ends of his ears turned a blushing red.

Oh, this view was priceless. Once again, perfect Focalors saves the day!

KAMISATO AYATO.

Thoma clicked his tongue. “Tall and awkward.” He squinted his eyes. “Practically unrecognizable in Inazuma despite your status.” Then, he tilted his head. “Absolutely terrible at small talk.”

Finally, Thoma nodded his head. “Yep, you don’t have a chance, my Lord.”

Thoma yelped as a paper fan hit his shoulder, and that was when Ayaka slid at the seat next to him. He made a quick apology to her, but when Ayaka looked across the table, she saw how her older brother didn’t seem quite phased at Thoma’s mean evaluation at all.

Instead, he seemed to be really considering what was told to him.

“Oh, brother,” Ayaka caught his attention. “Don’t listen to Thoma, he was only being mean. Personally, I think you have a good chance at winning this date!”

“No, no, Thoma might be right,” Ayato pondered. Aw, Ayaka didnt like it when he doubted himself. “All of those traits may make this date go horribly wrong—I might end up appearing as undesirable…”

Ayaka frowned. She may not have a love life of her own, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t watching her brother’s love life like an Inazuman drama act or like a romantic storybook. And the fact that Ayato has downright fallen tremendously hard for you—who Ayaka also loved dearly, and who she admired so much—makes her pray to the Archons every night for your relationship to set sail.

So Ayato scoring this first date with you was already a big deal on its own. Only… He wasn’t quite sure what date plan would make him the most appealing man to be courting you.

Of course, who else could he turn to, other than his darling best friend and sister? Ayaka certainly had no expertise in this, but if there was one thing…

“Brother, please take this!” Across the table, she shoved a stack of just a few papers, slightly faded and lightly wrinkled, into his hands. He blinked in surprise at them for a moment before squinting at the rushed handwriting that clearly did not belong to his sister. “The Traveler gave this to me; It’s a recipe for a pizza dish from Mondstadt!

And that was how she ended up here, watching with Thoma from the sidelines of the estate as Ayato gives you the friendliest smile can force upon himself as he offers to make the both of you food. Now, the last time Ayaka tried this, she blew up the oven with the Traveler in earshot. But surely, she knew her brother had much better survival skills than she did, and there was no way he would ruin a perfectly easy pizza recipe.

But then Thoma almost burst out laughing from their secluded hiding spot, and that was when she noticed her brother bringing out not one, but instead two platters of pizza. A rather odd aroma in the air. Oh.

“I thought we’d spice things up!” they heard Ayato say to you, clasping his gloved hands together and regaining his weird, excited smile and that equally weird, excited tone in his voice. Oh brother… “One pizza is normal, and the other pizza has random toppings I threw on it—as a taste test!”

And when he set the two down, it was… quite interesting. One was a normal mushroom pizza, cooked based on Traveler’s recipe: Ayato certainly made it much better than Ayaka could’ve attempted. But the second pizza was topped with a rather colorful palette: lavender melons, sea grass, and what looked like Sea Ganoderma. Ayaka and Thoma already found themselves gagging at the smell.

When Ayaka glanced at her blonde companion, he was furiously shaking his head at her, running a thumb straight across his throat as if saying “It’s over for him.” And honestly, Ayaka might have to agree this time. Maybe she should’ve never given him that pizza recipe or that cooking idea.

“A ‘taste test’…” you echoed. The two eavesdroppers heard shifts from your side do the table, meaning you reached forward to grab a slice—they quite obviously guessed you picked the regular mushroom pizza. “The host should go first, don’t you think?”

Oh? Did that mean you were interested in this game of two after all? Ayaka’s eyes practically lit up—She was so excited for her brother!

“I’ll take up that offer of yours,” Ayato chuckled lowly. And with no gag or hesitance at all, he takes a large bite with a whole unsavory mixture of the ingredients entering the cave of his mouth. “Mm, not bad at all.”

You were visibly surprised by his calmness, now reaching out to grab a slice of your own and biting it just as he did.

But almost immediately, that bite was spat right back out onto a napkin at the mere taste of this weird concoction. “Bleh, Lord Commissioner! How did you manage to eat a whole slice?!”

The first thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed: The way you said this was amidst laughter. You were laughing, and it even sounded like you were smiling. Because whenever Ayato tried this sort of gross mixing method with Thoma or Ayaka, they would also say the same line of disgust, but in an unfavorable way. But, no—You sounded genuinely lighthearted?

The second thing Ayaka and Thoma noticed ( from even the slightest of peeks ): The big, bona fide grin on Ayato’s face at your reaction. Oh, he was absolutely eating this up, as no one ever showed a positive reaction to his weird little hobby before. And of course, being partnered with the fact he was ( not-so ) secretly in love with you, only made it so much better for him.

“It was alright, I’d say!” he spoke excitedly, a hint of an uncontrollable laughter and uncontrollable smile laced in his voice. “It had the most memorable texture, and the taste felt like I was in touch with mother nature.”

You only scoffed at him in a joking manner, “None of those ‘compliments’ of yours weren’t inherently positive, Commissioner.”

To that, he gave you another big grin before silently reaching to eat yet another slice of this suspicious pizza. Well, Ayaka supposed her brother’s weirdness landing a perfect date with you, after all. And then she pat herself on the back—because maybe, giving him that recipe was the best mistake she could make.

// not proofread ;; THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNIER THAN INTENDED. BUT IM BAD AT BEING FUNNY :(

#neuvillette x reader #ayato x reader #lyney x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader #lyney fluff #neuvillette x you

4K notes · View notes

nahoney22 · 7 months ago

Text

Massage Therapy*** 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female!Reader

word count: 4.5k

prompts: none

Tech gives you a massage, what else could possibly happen?

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only. Explicit Sexual Content and Language. Oral Sex ie blowjob, Fingering, P in V Sex, Nudity, Dirty Talk, Soft!Dom Tech, Breeding Kink, Size Kink, Petnames, Oil Massage, Consensual Sex, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Kissing, Multiple Positions, Slightly Rough Sex, Spanking, Teasing, Flirting, Cum Denial, Creampie, Slight Possessive Tech, Not Proof Read, a bit Messy.

A/N: Total self indulge fic and tech has a big [REDACTED]

Reblog to support content creators. 🫧🌊

“What is so amusing?”

The Marauder hummed softly in the background as the team sat around, recuperating after a somewhat successful mission. Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, and Tech were sharing tactics and strategies and Tech was detailing the mission’s success. More to the point of explaining how his calculations had been spot on. But, you couldn’t help but chuckle, grabbing his attention.

“I’m just saying, Tech, your calculations might be great, but sometimes you overlook the obvious,” you teased.

Tech raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think that is the case. My assessments are thorough.”

“Oh really?” you challenged, stepping closer with a smirk. He gazes up at you from his spot, slightly wide-eyed. “I am sorry to tell you that you missed the part where the droids’ power cells were defective, which is why they were so easy to defeat.”

Tech frowned, his mind already processing your claim. “I accounted for their reduced efficiency due to age of creation, but… I didn’t specifically check for defective power cells.” He recalls quietly, pinching his chin.

Hunter and the others watched with amusement as the debate unfolded. “Sounds like a bet’s brewing,” Hunter said with a grin, leaning back in his seat.

You grinned back. “Alright, Tech, let’s make it interesting. If I’m right, you owe me a favour. And if you’re right, I’ll help with the repairs to the Marauder for a week.”

Tech considered this, the prospect of additional help appealing, especially from you, though he was confident in his calculations. “Very well, it’s a bet.”

Wrecker chuckled. “This is gonna be good.”

Tech pulled up the data on his datapad, scrolling through the information with practiced ease like he’s done this a million times before. You stand behind him, arms crossed and truthfully quite smugly-confident. After a few moments, you watch as his face fell. “It appears you are correct. The power cells were indeed defective.”

Echo clapped Tech on the shoulder. “Looks like you owe her, Tech.”

Tech simply nodded. “It seems so. I will fulfill my end of the bet.” He swivels in his chair to face you. “What is it you require?”

You ponder for a moment, not really thinking that far forward. “Undecided. But I’ll get back to you.” You say with a wink before walking away.

Tech watches you leave, swallowing hard but refusing to let the strange strain of his emotions show in front of the others.

If only you knew how you make him feel. Then again, perhaps you would be able to tell him how you are making him feel. Fluttering in the stomach when your name is mentioned in passing? Clammy hands when you talk to him? A small wave of arousal just when you’re near?

But surprisingly welcome.

It was new.

A few hours later, the others had dispersed to do their own thing whether to go to Cid’s or a walk which left just you and Tech alone.

Tech approached you after staring at you silently for the last minute or so, his usual confidence tinged with a hint of awkwardness. “Have you decided yet?”

You jumped a little, not hearing him approach initially but smile at him as you face him. “I was only teasing Tech, you don’t have to do anything for me.”

“On the contrary. You asked for something from me after proving me wrong which is a rarity, so I will do what you ask.”

As he was speaking, you felt a slight pain in your shoulder that had been bugging you for a few days now which spurred on an idea. “Well… there is something you can do for me.” You say sheepishly, taking a step towards him.

The proximity suddenly made him clam up, his fists tightening behind his back as your eyes and the smell of you captivated him. Your lips are moving but he isn’t processing what you’re really saying. “Sorry,” he clears his throat, “what did you say?”

“I said you could maybe give me a massage?” You say quickly, realising how personal that sounded. “Only if you feel comfortable. It’s just I have a few knots that I feel like you could tend to.”

Tech hesitates, giving massages was definitely not his forte or something he spent researching but for you? He felt like he would do anything these days. “If i can help relieve your pain I shall do it. Albeit I can not promise groundbreaking results.”

You giggle, eyes creasing at the corners and nose scrunching. Tech had never described anything as ‘cute’ before and probably never will; however, your laughter was something he always found rather endearing and admittedly… cute.

“Really? That’d be great. Do you want to do it now since the others aren’t here?”

“That is fine with me, let me get prepared and I’ll come find you.” Tech confirms, reaching for his device to do a quick research on techniques to massages.

After doing his frantic search, Tech set up a fold-away table that was typically used for emergency medical purposes and called you over. You emerge, now having changed into some shorts and tank top and look at the table in surprise.

“Please, lie down,” he instructed.

“Gettin’ the full treatment, am I? I feel special.” You tease, hopping onto the table as you watch Tech move about.

“If you require a calming and thorough massage it is only right that I do it properly.” He says simply but hopes the slight waver of nerves in his tone didn’t show as he turns to face you, holding a bottle of what looked to be body oil. “I found this among Echo’s things. I thought it might enhance the experience.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused and quite excited. “Echo’s, huh? Do you think he will mind?”

“I was not going to plan on telling him.” Tech announced as he poured some of the oil into his bare hands, warming it before you lay down, head on a small pillow made out of the boy's spare tops.

You positioned yourself comfortably, lying face up and watch as Tech’s hands hovered over your body, as if he was unsure where to start.

“You can start with my shoulders,” you suggested gently, easing him into it.

Tech nodded, placing his hands on your shoulders and beginning to knead the tension of both this situation and your ache away. His touch was non-surprisingly gentle yet firm, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as he worked on a particularly tight knot.

“You do appear very tense,” Tech observed, his voice tinged with modest concern.

The sensation of his hands on your skin was both soothing and electrifying. The oil, scented of lavender, made your skin glisten under the dim lighting of the ship. Each stroke, knead, sent waves of relaxation through your body, yet you couldn’t help but wonder if there was an underlying current of something more intimate and exciting afoot. You try to push the lewd thoughts away and focus back on Tech.

“Yeah, missions for Cid usually do that to a person,” you replied, your voice slightly breathless.

As the massage continued, you felt your muscles relaxing under Tech’s skilled hands. He moved down to your arms, taking his time to work out every knot and kink and even took his time on each of your hands, adding more oil to your skin which feels dry.

“You’ve done this before, I refuse to believe otherwise.” You sigh, eyes still closed and occasionally, you let out soft sounds of pleasure, unable to help yourself.

You don’t hear or see it but Tech’s breath hitched slightly each time you made a sound, and he could sense his growing arousal pressing against his pants.

After a few minutes or so, his mind doesn’t process like it usually does because out of nowhere he says, “If you are comfortable, you can remove your clothes.”

Your eyes open quickly, looking directly up into his, squinting to see his reaction behind his goggles. “Remove my clothes?”

“I…I only meant…” you watch him as he struggles to force out an answer but you take pity on him because you couldn’t deny, the idea did slightly turn you on.

Tech was adorably sweet in your eyes and you knew - also thanks to the other boys teasing - he felt something for you. You didn’t believe it at first because he was always the same around you. Though the more you paid attention, the more it clicked together like a puzzle piece. When does Tech ever stumble over his words? When is he ever usually wrong? When has he ever offered to give someone a nude, oily massage?

Naturally, you felt something for him too. You were just a bit better at hiding it than he was.

“Will you place a towel over my, you know?”

“Yes, of course. It is just for a more in-depth massage.” He clears his throat, finding his voice again and genuinely surprised you were going to go ahead with this.

You flushed but nodded, trusting him. You wait until he turns around before you remove your clothes, lying back down as Tech passed you a towel which you draped over yourself. “May I proceed?”

“Sure,” you nod as you close your eyes, allowing his hands to resume their work and starting with your legs. He is certainly a quick learner because his fingers knead the muscles with precision and as he glides higher towards your thighs, you feel his touch become more deliberate.

You take a peek at him with one eye, watching him secretly and you were certain he was looking at you with a look you had never witnessed before.

He looked starved. Tempted. Lustful.

Ever so discreetly, you part your legs just an inch, allowing his hands to work on the inner sides of your thighs. You try to control your breathing but the slight rush of wind that hits your core as his hands zoom past was hard to ignore.

He climbed higher and higher until you comfortably moved your legs further open, the towel still giving you your dignity yet you were sure it was about to roll off the table and down the gangplank.

The side of his hands were just inches away from touching your pussy and you waited with bated breath, wondering if he dared to cross the line… but he never did.

You peek at him again, watching him shake his head at himself as if he was scolding himself for thinking of doing something.

“Tech,” you breathed out, closing your eyes fully so he didn’t catch you looking at him, “you can massage my br- torso. You can massage my torso if you want.”

He moves round the table, standing at your side. Looking at the towel that covered your nude body, he feels a burn in his own as his mouth starts to salivate. “Will you be comfortable with me removing your towel in that case?”

With a mumble of clarification, Tech’s hands trembled slightly as he moved the towel aside. His gaze looked at your face first, analysing your reaction and was relieved to see that you didn’t seem to mind what was happening.

He looks away from you for a moment, grabbing the bottle of oil again and then gazes upon your chest, most notably your breasts.

He bites on his tongue to stop from making a noise as he slowly pours the oil over your hardening nipples before his fingers begin tracing the curves of your breasts, rubbing the oil in.

His touch was gentle this time, yet it sent waves of pleasure through your body. He stands behind your head, leaning over you as his hands caress and respectfully fondle your tits but his eyes? They were on your face, watching your reactions intently.

You couldn’t help it but your breathing gets heavier, your fingers gripping onto the edge of the either side of the table as his thumbs briefly kiss your nipples, the heat between your legs throbbing with an intensity that you wanted to whimper his name.

“Your skin is incredibly soft,” Tech murmured, his voice husky with arousal as he cups your breasts together, kneading gently into them.

You arched into his touch, your breathing ragged. “Tech… please, don’t stop.”

Your reaction nearly makes his knees buckle, he recognised this behaviour from many porn holovids he watched in secret. You were turned on and he was the reason for it.

He continued just like you wanted, not letting his ego explode, his hands exploring your body further with growing confidence. The massage was easily becoming increasingly steamy, your soft moans of enjoyment encouraging him further that the tent in his pants was starting to hurt.

Skillfully, his hands moved lower, exploring the expanse of your stomach, then to your hips, and finally to your inner soft and pillowy thighs. “You’re so good at this.” You whisper, biting your lip.

“Turn over, please,” Tech instructed, his voice a low and husky command.

You complied, turning onto your stomach. Tech again has to suppress his wanton noises as his eyes land on your arse. You could feel his gaze linger which silently makes you smirk. There’s a mix of admiration and professionalism in his eyes and he doesn’t know how to function for a moment. “Any pain in your back I should be aware of?” He asks, oiling his hands up once again.

“I get a small ache in my lower back sometimes.” You reply, speech slightly muffled as you lay your head flat on its side.

“Hopefully I can help with that.” He whispers, his hands landing on the area you said and gives you slow and purposeful strokes.

The sensation of his hands on your bare skin was incredibly intimate, and you felt yourself growing damp with arousal. Tech's touch was almost reverent, as if he was in awe of your body. It’s not long until his hands move to your arse, massaging you perfectly.

Your lip almost bleeds with how many times you bite down onto it but you couldn’t help the shivers that tingles your body. His professionalism was evident, but the effect he was having on you was undeniable. “Do you like this?”

“I’m definitely not going to say no,” you utter with a soft laugh, soon groaning as both of his hands knead at your left cheek.

As Tech moved around the table to work at your body at a different angle, you caught a glimpse of the clear arousal pitched in his pants.

The sight sent a thrill through you, knowing that your reactions and your body were affecting him just as much. Despite his aching erection, he maintained his composure, focusing on giving you the best massage possible and for that you were immensely grateful for. Though, you wouldn’t mind the latter.

His hands moved to your thighs one more, working their magic as he massages up and down each leg with a slow, intricate touch that makes you breathe out soft moans of delight. “Those are some rather seductive sounds you’re making, I have to say.”

Did he just flirt with you? Or was he just stating the obvious as usual? Perhaps it was both.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” you say softly, propping yourself up on your elbows and look back at him, “you’re good with your hands.”

He stills, meeting your flirtatious gaze and has to fight every willpower he has not to palm himself infront of you, the ache in his pants throbbing and begging for release. “There is no need to apologise,” he says slowly. His hands are inching their way up your legs and ever so gently begins to spread your cheeks.

Your lips part, watching him as he locks eyes with your glistening pussy and you felt a surge of arousal as he uses two fingers to brush up between them, his touch feather-light and teasing.

“T-Tech,” you rasp, fingers gripping onto the table as he runs his fingers up and down your slicked entrance.

“Can I massage you here? I am positive there is quite a lot of tension that needs to be released.”

You nod fervently, biting your lip before you let out the most sinful cry of pleasure.

He paused for a moment to get your answer, then slowly, deliberately, he hooked a finger inside you.

The wet sounds of his fingers moving inside you filled the room, a mix of slick and rhythmic. His movements were slow at first, teasing, then gradually quickened, each thrust making your body shiver. Your arse jiggled slightly with each movement, adding to the allure of him finger-fucking you.

“You’re incredibly wet,” Tech remarked, his voice a mix of awe and satisfaction. “It’s pleasing to know you’re enjoying this.”

You could barely form a coherent response, your body trembling with desire as you buried your head into the table. “Tech… please, more.”

His fingers began to explore you more deeply, each movement, twisting, curling and pumping inside you. You moaned louder, your hands gripping the edges of the table as he brought you to the brink of ecstasy of one of many orgasms.

Tech moved to your side, and you seized the opportunity, reaching out to grab his cock through his pants. “Maker you feel so big,” you gasp in pleasant surprise, massaging it through the fabric, feeling its hardness and the heat radiating from it. His breath hitched, and he groaned softly.

“You may have the pleasure of having a look and a taste if that would satisfy you.”

With a swift motion, you pulled down his pants, freeing his cock without a second thought. You had to move your head back slightly so it didn’t slap you in your face and gaze at his member in awe.

“Looks so good…” you moan to yourself as you bring his tip to your mouth, teasing it with your tongue before taking him in. Tech’s fingers never stopped their rhythm inside you, and he began to thrust gently into your mouth, his cock moving in and out with a steady pace.

You slurp and suck on his cock like a woman starved, your hand gripping the shaft as you pump it back and forth while he rocks into your mouth.

“You look so cock-hungry. Has your pretty mouth and pussy been neglected for so long?” You never thought you’d hear these words pour out of his mouth but here you both were, you with his aching cock between your lips and his fingers deep and wet inside you. “Have your needs been met?”

The sensation was intoxicating, his fingers moving inside you while his cock filled your mouth, your reply a muffled and spit covered ‘yes’. You could feel him trembling, his control slipping as he thrust deeper, the corner of your lips stretching with a pleasurable pull.

You moved back onto your back, positioning yourself with your head tilted to the side so you could continue sucking his cock. Tech’s hands were everywhere, one playing with your oiled nipples, rolling and pinching them lightly, while the other massaged your clit. The dual sensation was overwhelming, and you felt yourself building to another climax as stars blur your vision.

Tech’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more urgent. He groaned your name, panting like a whore, his voice filled with desire. “I can’t… I’m going to…”

Before he could finish, he pulled out of your mouth with urgency, his eyes dark with lust. “I have to have you,” he murmured, his voice dripping with need.

You watched with wide and lusting eyes as he moved to the bottom of the table, his hands gripping your thighs firmly. In one swift motion, he pulled you close to him, your legs dangling off the edge. His cock, hard and throbbing, pressed against your exposed entrance. The anticipation was electric, your body quivering with need.

“Tech, please,” you whispered, your voice burning with desperation.

He needed no further encouragement. He grabs his cock, slipping it up and down between your folds, tapping it against your clit to watch your desperate whimpers of want before he pushes into you, filling you completely.

“Oh fuck! Tech!” You cried out in pleasure, your body arching against him as your head fell back. The sensation of his cock stretching you was overwhelming, and you gripped his arms, your fingers digging into the fabric of his sleeves because after all, he wasn’t even naked himself.

“Maker, your cunt is so tight,” Tech groaned, his voice strained with pleasure, “do not worry darling, you will adjust.”

He began to move, each thrust deep and powerful, slamming into you with an urgency that left you panting with breath. He pushes his goggles up to rest against his forehead, having steamed up from the erotic heat and then watched intently, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing into you with each thrust.

“I do not think I will fit inside you completely,” he chuckles, “but I’ll make do.” his voice was husky and he looked you in the eyes.”

“You are mine,” he groans, his hands running up and down your thighs as he stills inside you, keeping his cock warm. “Stars, I have been wanting to see how you look whilst getting wonderfully fucked by my cock.”

Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of the moment binding you together. “Tech… it’s so big,” you moaned, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“I know. But you are doing exceptionally well my dear… tell me how good it feels,” he demanded, his pace quickening. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Fuck, it’s so deep,” you cried out, your voice breaking as he begins to move his hips again. “It feels so good baby,”

Tech let out a loud groan at the pet name, legs like jelly. “I could get used to you calling me that.”

“Your body is incredible,” Tech groaned, his hands gripping your fleshy thighs tighter. “It should be cherished. Your pussy is perfect. I’ve imagined you wedged on my cock for a long time. And now you’re mine. My brothers will never get the chance to fuck you as good as I do.”

“I’ll only want you, Tech,” you gasped, your body trembling with pleasure. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Tech’s hands move to your waist, his grip almost bruising as he pounded into you. “I am going to fill you up,” he moaned, his voice low and feral as his deep-rooted kink for breeding you surfaces. “I’m going to spill my seed inside you, and you’re going to take it all.”

The thought sent a shiver of pure pleasure through your body, and you felt your orgasm building, the tension coiling tighter and tighter as your pussy gets pounded. “Yes, Tech! please, I need your hot cum so badly.” you begged, voice a desperate plea as sweat drips down your body.

Tech’s thrusts became erratic, his control slipping as he neared his own high. His fingers moved to your clit, pinching and flicking it in time with his thrusts. The added sensation made you sob with pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably. “Shit oh - holy - fuck,” you’re mewling pathetically, watching half of his cock disappear inside of you.

He leaned over you, pinning you to the table, his face inches from yours. “Kiss me,” he ordered, his voice rough with need. You comply without a second thought, your lips crashing together in a desperate, hot kiss. He lets go of you, hands holding on the table as it rocked back and forth as he buries himself in and out of you.

Just as you were about to fall over into blissful release, Tech pulled out, making you whimper at the loss. “N-no, no why?”

You watch with hazy eyes as he starts to stroke himself, trying to stave off his orgasm. “Beg for my cock,” he commanded, his eyes heavy with hunger. “Tell me how much you need it.”

“Please, baby, Tech, I need you,” you pleaded, your voice desperate. “I need your cock inside me. Fuck me again, please.”

Satisfied, Tech pulled you off the table and turned you around, bending you over. He lifted one of your legs to rest on the table, angling your body perfectly. “This position will allow for deeper penetration,” he explained, his voice tinged with anticipation. “I shall be able to hit that sweet spot inside you perfectly.”

With that, he thrust back into you, his cock driving deep and hitting just the right spot. You gasp out in pleasure, your hands gripping the edge of the table for support. “Yes, Tech, right there,” you moaned. “It feels so good.”

“Good girl,” Tech groaned, his pace relentless. “Take it all my darling.”

His large, veiny cock buried deep inside you, hitting every sensitive spot. He reached forward to spank your arse, making it bounce with every thrust. “So receptive.”

Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, Tech flipped you onto your back again, lifting your legs to dangle off his shoulders. He pounded into you with renewed vigor, his pace becoming erratic as he felt himself ready to give you everything.

“I’m going to cum,” he growled, his voice low and feral. “You will be so full.”

“Yes, Tech, do it,” you urged, your voice breathless as you move your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit to match him. “I need it so much.”

With a final, loud thrust, Tech buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he came. The sensation pushed you into another orgasm, your body trembling with pleasure.

For a moment, the galaxy seemed to stand still, the only sounds were the heavy breathing and soft moans of pleasure. As Tech slowly pulled out, you felt his warm cum slip out of you and you watch in awe as he collected it on his fingers and, with a possessive look, pushed it back inside you.

“I want every drop to stay inside you,” he murmured, his voice filled with satisfaction. “I want you to remember this.”

The sensation of his fingers inside you, combined with the aftershocks of your orgasm, made you shiver. “I won’t forget,” you whispered.

Tech leaned down, capturing your lips in a soft, tender kiss. “You are incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “I never imagined…”

“Me neither,” you replied, a smile tugging at your lips. “But I’m glad it happened.”

Tech pulled you into a gentle embrace, the intimacy of the moment leaving you both feeling connected in a way you hadn’t before. “I… I hope I did not hurt you.”

“No, not at all.” You reply with a comforting smile, “I’m just dazed.”

He smiles, pulling his goggles back down after wiping them clear. “As you could probably tell, I always had feelings for you,” he admitted softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I just didn’t know how to express them.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I feel the same way, Tech. And not going to lie, I think I’ve always known.”

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka

@theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @staycalmandhugaclone

@ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog

@pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87

@ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

@greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @lulalovez

@ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot t @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder r @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894

🌊 Masterlist is pinned on profile🌊

#tech x reader #the bad batch tech #the bad batch tech x reader #the bad batch #tech tbb #tbb tech x reader #tbb tech x you #tbb #tech bad batch #nahoney22 writes

415 notes · View notes

writing-mlm · 1 month ago

Note

saw you do familial reqs? damian with an older brother figure reader would be so awesome.. bonus points if he’s also some moody bat and just kinda sees himself in damian. he used to be a sort of outcast himself, so he can empathize with damian when dame feels like he’s sort of ostracized from the other robins or bat fam members.

Annual New Robin Trip

Summary: Damian’s been Robin long enough that it’s his turn to go on the Robin Trip Pairing: Damian Wayne & Brother!reader Wc: 4.5k tags/warnings: sibling bond, both were child assassins, Bruce is bad at parenting

Dick was the bubbly, bumbling Robin. People used to say he was truly a circus kid; flipping from chandeliers and being a little terror. Although everyone is pretty sure he was definitely out for blood whenever he had the chance. He would tell the most awful puns while fighting and Bruce wouldn’t even scold him.

Jason was just happy to be there, he had everything he could ever ask for and he was taken in by Batman! Oh, boy- oh, boy! He would hide under the cape and yell boo to all the petty criminals Bruce let him fight. Until he couldn’t anymore.

Tim had the easiest life prior to donning the R on his chest. After that, he was the worst Robin. Not because he was bad; Tim was arguably the best Robin during his career but because he never got to experience the things Dick or Jason had. He was left picking up the pieces after Jason’s death, holding Bruce together to the best of his abilities. He went out on patrols alone, with no cape to hide under or any grumpy adult to hold in a chuckle.

Stephanie wanted to prove a point, she pushed Bruce in ways Tim didn’t. But in the end, she was pushed to the side. No one even remembers her time as Robin. The girl Robin, the blonde one. It was only what… seventy-five days? Why would anyone remember her? Forgotten in the murky waters of Batman’s timeline. Erased.

Damian wasn’t as fortunate. He didn’t come from Gotham or a traveling circus hiding a cult. He came from the Ra’s Al-Ghul, he came from the demon head. Born a killer, bathed in the pit— his life was cursed from the beginning. Sorrow and rot; that’s what his life was even after he put on the Robin suit. Despite being the only Robin connected to Batman by blood, he was the biggest outside in the bunch.

He couldn’t do anything right. He kept messing up— his father was constantly disappointed by him and he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. He’s doing what he was taught— the blade. He hadn’t meant to take another life— he was trying to be better. But he doesn’t realize when he’s going too far because, for him, the limit didn’t exist until less than a year ago.

You could relate to that… all too well.

“What do you want?” Damian grits when he spots you on his desk, messing with one of his countless knives. He hides his face, not wanting to show a weakness— his weakness. “I thought father threw you out.” Some time ago, maybe two months ago, you and Bruce had gotten into an explosive argument that ended with a frozen pork chop on your eye and a frozen bag of peas on his chin before he told you never to come back.

“He did,” You hum, unfurling yourself from the desk and standing tall. “I know the security system— and Pennyworth let me back inside.” You smile.

“Pennyworth shows little loyalty to father,” He spits, sitting on the bed.

“He shows plenty, Damian. He knows something that Bruce doesn’t, at the moment.” You tilt your head as you add the last part. Bruce will find out sooner than later anyway, might as well tell him.

“And what’s that?” He asks arms crossed as he glares at you. You look away and huff, rolling your head onto your shoulder.

“I need his opinion on something, something important.”

“And you’re in my room?”

“I also wanted to speak to you,” You admit. “You’ve been here long enough for us to continue the tradition.” He pauses, hand settling on the dagger he keeps in his pocket.

“What sort of tradition?” The only traditions he’s used to are fights or death; neither of which is he in the mood for.

“Nothing like the League, I can assure you. I.. I take all the Robins on a… bonding trip after they’ve settled in.” You explain, now sitting on a chair. “I took Jason to the arcade and a library in Prague, Tim to my family’s annual barbecue and fishing, and Stephanie to this spa retreat for the weekend. It’s your turn.”

“Why would I care for this… bonding trip?” He asks, setting the dagger down. “I’m not like the others— I’m better. I don’t need some stupid trip with a rejected hero,” Shrugging, you look at the mirror on his wardrobe. You see Damian, sitting while glaring at you. You see yourself, staring at the signs of age and tiredness on your, admittedly, not old body.

“Talk to the others about it, just not Richie. He never got one.” Leaving, Damian thinks for a second before he follows after you. As quiet as a mouse, he slips into the cave after you, clinging to the darkness as he’s been trained to do.

“Is it that time already?” Dick asks when you enter with your hands in your pockets. He’d been talking with Bruce about something, but he was too far to hear. Bruce spins around, looking you up and down with a watchful gaze.

“I have news,” You roll your eyes when Dick pulls you into a hug. “About my assignment.”

“No one assigned you to it,” Bruce reminds you, guilt flashing over his eyes. You shrug and lean against your older brother, your head resting on his shoulder. He squeezes your arm, happy to see you again. He’s always been happy to see his first baby brother safe and sound; at home.

“I found their base; took them down, too.” You tell them, fighting the urge to tuck into yourself. “They were hiding out in Australia.”

“Did you kill them?” Bruce asks. Damian pressed against a rock, his small figure hidden perfectly as he watched the three of you. You don’t answer, but your eyes drift to the ground when Bruce sighs through his nose. “I have one rule.”

“I know,” You stress, pulling away from Dick. “I know! But I didn’t mean to! But they wouldn’t give me any other choice; do you think I wanted to kill them? I tried to save them,”

“Clearly not hard enough,” Bruce blinks and Damian falters in the same way you did. Bruce had said the same thing to him not even three hours ago. “You should’ve contacted me. I could’ve saved them.”

“I tried,” You stress. “I called and I sent letters. I- I— You never answered me! I didn’t want to kill them!”

“B,” Dick puts a hand on your shoulder as you sniff and look away. “You know that they wouldn’t go; he had to.”

“We could’ve—“

“God! You’d think after raising one child assassin he'd be better at this.” You spit and wipe your nose. “You’re still shit at helping us.”

“(Y/n),” Bruce sighs. “You know I love you and I love Damian, you’re my sons.” He holds your shoulder and you falter, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Hell of a way of showing it.” He doesn’t apologize, Bruce doesn’t know the word sorry but he hugs you. You don’t hug back, just pat his shoulder until he pulls away.

“I’m glad you’re home safe.” He whispers before he finally pulls away. “It’s a shame you had to kill them.” Nodding, you look at Dick.

“I had to kill my parents,” You admit, trying to keep yourself composed when he frowns and immediately hugs you. “They kept calling me and calling me, begging me to join them again. I couldn’t… I’m tired of killing. I see them when I sleep, their faces. Their blood was so warm.”

Damian looks away, flashes of the people he’s killed plays through his mind and he leaves the cave. He needs to be alone. His eyes are stinging and he’s sure if he breathes any harder he’s going to be spotted.

“Aside from that,” You clear your throat and fix your clothes. “Damian’s been Robin for… some time now. It’s nearing the time where I take the new Robin out for a trip.”

“If he agrees,” Bruce nods.

“I still haven’t been taken out for a trip,” Dick dramatically sighs.

“You’re older than me. You’re supposed to take me.”

“Can I?” He gleams and you shake your head with a smile before walking away. “Please!”

“No, Dickie. You suck at planning,”

—

You don’t spend the night at the manor; it hasn’t felt like home in years. You hate your old room, you hate how Bruce hasn’t touched it since you’ve gone; everything besides that stupid broken picture frame. It’s been swept up, and replaced with a different frame.

And somehow, the picture that was inside sits on your kitchen island.

Your current place is temporary, rented out on a monthly basis with some shady landlord you don’t truly care about. The lease is hardly a day old, so for someone to have known where you lived they must’ve been recently following you. For them to have access to the picture they’ve been in the manor. Because that’s the same picture, you know because there’s an inky, smudged fingerprint on the back.

“You were close to my father?” Damian asks as you enter the living room, still holding the picture in your loose grip.

“Thick as thieves,” You grin, although there’s no happiness or warmth behind it. Setting the table on the side table, you sit next to Damian.

“You mentioned your family's barbecue earlier but they’re assassins. Assassins don’t do family barbecues,” He should know.

“Different family,” You breathe in, staring down at him while he looks around the dingy apartment. “I… My blood family are assassins and yeah; no family barbecues. But eh… I’m sort of married,” You laugh and his head snaps to you. “Yup, I got married at twenty. Love of my life, they’re wonderful. I consider their family my own,” He tuts at the idea of love and you remember yourself doing the same thing when you were his age.

“I assume they know?”

“My spouse does, yes. Their family… do not. It’s not exactly something they’d want to hear about their son-in-law.”

“Does father know you’re married?”

“No— maybe,” You shrug. “If he does he’s never mentioned it. I don’t hide it but I never bring them around him.” He tuts and stands up. You watch with a careful eye as he struts into your kitchen and steps up to the counter, climbing to reach the cabinet and then standing to reach the top shelf to grab a cup. He rinses it out before opening the fridge.

His nose turns up at the options and you hold back a laugh, watching as he picks out the water jug before pouring himself a glass. He sniffs the water, eyeing you wearily before holding the cup to you.

God, you’d done the same exact thing to Bruce when you first arrived.

Taking a sip, he seems content when you don’t have a reaction other than pouring yourself a cup and slowly sipping his drink.

“I assume you’re from the Shadows?” He’s strutting back to the couch while you lean against the counter, holding the cup by the rim with the ends of your fingers.

“Shadow adjacent. Subsection created about fifty years back,”

“So you were born into it?” He sets the now empty cup on the table and picks up the picture, carefully examining it, and then checks the date on the back. “For twelve years before you met Father.”

“I was,” You nod. “Joined Bruce and Dickie.”

“Before you gave up.” He adds. You laugh, shaking your head before finishing your water in one big gulp.

“Damian, I didn’t give up. I was… I couldn’t live up to Bruce’s expectations. It’s hard not killing but I tried. I tried for years. But every time I went out someone died. So, I learned to use computers, I stayed in the cave and watched over everyone. I was the Oracle before Oracle was a thing.”

“You were a coward,” He corrects with a tight voice. “You gave up and hid inside of the cave when you could’ve helped people!”

“Damian. It’s not cowardly to stop trying. Because I did eventually go back, but it was under my rules. I stopped listening to Bruce’s voice, his rules, his insane expectations. Dick mentioned you like Veil?”

“I do,” He gives one curt nod. “They’re effective and father gives them high praise.”

“That’s me, Damian.” You grin and for a moment, his jaw goes slack but he quickly composes himself. “You can call Bruce. I have the suit in my closet… help yourself, I guess,” Watching as he rushes into your bedroom, he shuffles through clothes before he pulls out your suit.

“I suppose you’re not a coward.” He settles in when he neatly puts the suit back in its spot.

—

“Yes, Bruce?” You sigh, phone placed between your ear and shoulder as you’re sorting through laundry. “What do you want from me? My soul? My last piece of self-worth?”

“(Y/n),” He sighs that old man sigh he’s started doing after Jason came back and he realized he had to deal with two homicidal sons. Three now. “Damian has requested you at the manor.”

“Tell him I want to experience the Robin Trip.” You hear Damian say and you smile. “Father, tell him!” He demands and you think you can hear him stomping his foot.

“He wants you to take him on the Robin Trip,” Bruce relays.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Pack enough clothes for about five days. Nothing fancy, either.”

You arrive in your trusty mom van. It’s a lovely seven-seater with plenty of trunk space and a rack on the top. Of course, Alfred wouldn’t let you just stay in the driveway. No, it was late so of course, you had to stay for dinner and you’ll leave in the morning. Pinky promise.

“Reject is back,” Jason grins, giving you a tight hug. You hug him back, swaying him from side to side. You’d missed him when you came over the week prior; something Dick says he simply will not stop complaining about.

“Oh, hey,” Tim looks up from his dinner plate and offers a nod. You never did get too close to him; he never wanted an older brother. He wanted Bruce and you simply weren’t him. You nod back, running your fingers along Jason’s head before he shoves your hand away; chiding that he’s not a kid anymore.

“Hmph!” Damian stands between you and Jason, arms crossed as he looks between the two of you. You smile and ruffle his hair despite his protests and threats.

“Staying for dinner?” Bruce asks from the head of the table, reading the daily newspaper. Even though it’s well into the afternoon, almost night.

“At Pennyworth's insistence,” You nod, detaching yourself from Jason and Damian. “Unless there’s an issue with that.” You add.

“No,” He shakes his head while setting the paper down. “None at all, please, stay. There’s always a room open for you.”

“Aside from the times he kicks us out,” Jason pretends to whisper while Dick barrels down the stairs. You think he did trip at some point but he caught himself.

“I missed you!” He squeezes you just as tightly as you’d squeezed Jason and you cringe, patting his back. Jason snickers while Damian tuts and heads to his seat at the table.

“You saw me last week, Dickie.” You’re put back on your feet and Dick sighs, leaning away from the hug but holds you still.

“After not seeing you for months!” He adds, the smile dropping as he checks you over. This time in proper lighting. “God, leaving me here alone with Bruce. I’ve had to smile every single day with him waiting for you.” He mutters just loud enough that you can hear.

“Not like I had a choice,” You grit, eyes flickering to the table. “Dinner?” You sigh.

“Yes, do take a seat.” Alfred smiles. “I’ve prepared your favorite, Master (Y/n).”

“You shouldn’t have,” You smile at him.

“You really shouldn’t have,” Jason sighs and turns to Damian. “He has the worst taste in food.”

“Jason, not everyone likes burgers dipped in cheese and barbecue sauce.”

“Exactly,” He nods as if you’ve proved his point.

Surprisingly, dinner goes off without a hitch. There were not more than ten snarky remarks, not once did someone awkwardly fake cough to move the conversation along, and everyone’s food remained on their plates.

“Where will we be going?” Damian asks after insisting he walks you to your bedroom.

“You’ll see,” You grin. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I do not like none-answers,” He huffs, crossing his arms. “You could be leading me into a trap.”

“Bruce approved,” Is all you’re willing to give him. It satiates him for now and he stands at your door, waiting for you to go inside. “Be ready by five, we should leave early.”

“Alright,” He nods and walks away before stopping midstep. “Sleep well, (Y/n).”

“Goodnight, Damian.” He nods and continues into his room.

—

At five on the dot, Damian knocks on your door. You open it, already dressed and packed. He’s the same, with a large bag slung over his shoulders and an almost happy expression on his face.

“Head downstairs, I need a couple of things.” He hums and turns on his heel while you look around your room. Grabbing one of the first books you’d fallen in love with, you slip it into your bag and then your first-ever sketchbook.

Once you’re downstairs, Alfred hands you a metal mug with your favorite breakfast drink, then a neatly wrapped breakfast sandwich, and then a light lunch. He knows you won’t stay for breakfast and wishes you farewell. You thank him and load up the minivan, Damian sits in the passenger seat and you have to question if he should be in the back. And in a booster seat.

For some reason, you don’t think he’d take to sitting in a booster seat.

Driving off, you play calm music and sip your drink. He’s quietly eating next to you, careful to not get crumbs in the car. He falls asleep halfway into the drive, his head hanging in an awkward position so you maneuver to lower the seat for him. He stirs awake, grabbing your wrist as you’re moving away but he drops it once he realizes it’s you and slowly falls back asleep.

Eventually, you reach your farm. A lovely place in a lovely town that has flea markets every Friday and everyone keeps their doors unlocked.

Your land is sectioned off by a lovely oak fence, spreading across the eight acres, a dull red mailbox with the hand up greets you and you check the box. There’s a small package and two letters that you toss onto the dashboard.

Damian wakes up as you’re driving up, his eyes finding the cows and chickens you keep lazily chewing on the grass. He sees a wild fox, chasing a wild rabbit through the lawn, scaring a group of pigs inside of their pen in front of a horse stable.

He sniffs the air, confused. It doesn’t smell like livestock and he knows how livestock farms smell.

“Where are we?” He asks, craning his neck to look behind him. There’s nothing but open fields for miles but he can see a house in the distance.

“My house,” He turns back to you. “I have a homestead— it’s just a fancy word for living on a farm, really.”

“You do believe in botulism, correct?” He sneers, stepping out of the van. You bark a laugh and nod.

“I’m not crazy about it— I just raise my animals and tend to my crops when I’m not out being Veil.”

“Why would you decide to live here?” He asks and you notice his tone isn’t as harsh as it once was. His eyes scan over your fields with a look almost similar to contentment. He looks at the cow with a fondness you can share while you collect your bags. “You’re an assassin, not a farmer.”

“I can be many things,” You shrug. “I’m a farmer, a vigilante, a painter, a former assassin. I’m not bound by one thing. Don’t you have hobbies?”

“I have no time for such trivial matters,” He turns his nose up as he pushes inside the house.

“Ra’s is a doctor on the side. Dick is a detective. Jason takes care of the orphaned kids. Tim runs a company. I’ve seen his skateboard collection. I’ve seen Dick teach gymnastics at the local gyms. Bruce has his charities and all of his foundations. Jason has an enormous collection of books.”

“I only read informative books, anything else is a waste of my time.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. “Let me show you to your room, you’ll settle down and then meet me in the kitchen. Take as much time as you need, there’s no rush.” He nods and you show him to the guest room. It’s incredibly plain but nice. You shut the door behind you and text Bruce that you’ve arrived without any hiccups. He doesn’t reply but you see that he’s read the text and you go about your day.

You have a pair of old working boots from your spouse's nephew visiting; they should fit Damian just fine. Setting them on the bench, you slip yours on and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, walking down with careful eyes until he sees you.

“I assume I’m to wear these?” You nod and he tuts, slipping them on. “What type of training is this?”

“You’re going to learn patience and to enjoy life.” You smile, ruffling his hair before tossing him an egg basket.

“That’s ridiculous.”

—

Dick reacts with hearts as you're sending him pictures of Damian collecting duck and chicken eggs. Videos of him milking cows and cleaning out the pig pens. He’s glad that Damian is having fun, each picture and video seems to have Damian in a better mood. You send him pictures of his drawings and he remarks that he’s already talented with a pencil. You don’t tell him that he’s gotten into reading, too. But you do tell Jason, swearing him to secrecy.

You look up at Damian as he sits on your porch, an easel and canvas in front of him as he paints your backyard. It’s only been three days but you’d like to think you’ve made an impression on him. He’s woken up earlier than you to feed the animals, he enjoys talking to them and tells you that your defenses are subpar. So you took him into town to grab items to make your fence stronger.

He hated when the townsfolk would coo at him, remark that he’s such a strong boy for carrying the wood and bags while you carried the metal and other bags. You wonder how he’s going to like the flea market. You hope it won’t be overwhelming for him; you know it was for you the first time you went.

“What happens when they die?” He suddenly asks, still painting one of your cows. Looking up from your phone, you stare at the back of his head and then the painting.

“You know how I’m a metahuman, right?” He nods. “I can… see how much longer anything living has. And I can communicate with animals, so, I tell them. I tell them that they don’t have much longer. Sometimes they ask to be left in peace. To die naturally. Other times they tell me to get it over with; they’re ready. If they ask that, I’ll… take them to the butcher. They agree, of course.”

“So the meat we’ve eaten these past days…”

“That was from my chicken Mile and my cow Dan-Loop.”

“Why? How could you?” You notice that his grip on the paintbrush is tightening and you inch closer to him.

“Because it’s what they wanted. They know they’re farm animals, they know that humans eat their meat. They know. And some of them don’t care. They live happily here. And I give them the option of what they want to do. One time, one of my pigs was dying and SeaSaw told them that he wanted to be released. Travel as far as he could before he returned to the Earth. I watched that pig run and run for a while before he turned and looked at me. He thanked me and went up that hill and stared at the sunset.”

“Isn’t it hard?” He asks. “Raising all these animals knowing you’re going to outlive them.”

“It is. But I also know that I’m giving them an amazing life. It’s better than them being stuck in cruel mills. They’re seen and heard. And trust me, if those ducks and chickens were angry, your hand would be picked at for trying to take their eggs.” Damian nods, looking down at you. You’re looking at your animals, taking in the setting sun.

“Do you think father would let me start a farm?”

“Maybe. Ask him on a good day. If he does, you can take Jerry. He likes you,” Damian beams, knowing exactly which animal you’re talking about.

“Okay, thank you.”

—

“Why did you leave and come here?” Damian asks as you’re driving to the flea market. “You mentioned you couldn’t stand being around father.” The question makes you think about your years with Bruce, all the things he’d taught, and the things you spent years unlearning. Things weren’t all bad with Bruce, though. You still cherish your fond memories like the first time he’d taken you to the ice cream parlor or when he’d taken you to the Monterey Bay Aquarium after he saw you watching Nemo too many times in a row for it to be a simple obsession.

“Bruce and I have a complicated history. And sometimes, to love someone, you need to stay away. I can’t see your father too often; it’s too painful. I care about him; I’m sure he cares about me but it’s too much. We’re too different. And coming here was like…” You purse your lips. “I was finally free from what I'd become. I could live a separate life from my place in the family. I had no obligations here; I made it my own.”

“What’s your place?” He asks, sparing you a glance.

“I wasn’t the best at what I did. I was angry, a lot. I don’t know if you’ve met yet, but Mr. Fox would say I was moodier than Bruce. I was violent; I wasn’t sure of my place in any of this. I kept trying to prove myself to Bruce but I kept failing. I felt like a mistake for a long while.” He looks down at his lap, messing with his jeans before he speaks up again.

“What made that feeling go away?”

“Getting hobbies.” You admit. “I drew a lot. I made friends. I got closer to Dick and Jason. I removed Bruce from that pedestal and saw him for the man he is. Not as the man I wanted him to be.”

“What man is he?”

“He’s like us. He’s flawed and he makes mistakes. He’s not perfect and neither are we. We’re all trying. Now, come on. Your father gave you five thousand so you can buy whatever you want.”

He smiles and grabs the bag from the dashboard, leaving you in the dust while he admires the homemade objects people are selling.

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x you #batfam x reader #damian wayne x brother reader

239 notes · View notes

poisonedprose · 1 year ago

Text

₊˚✧ she said fuck me like im famous — in which ellie 'teaches' you how to play the guitar.

rockstar!ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: 0.6.k words, smutty, is this highly inaccurate? probs. do i care? no. pet names (baby, babe, filthy girl), hand kink, teasing, reader wears a skirt, temperature play?, fingering, finger sucking

masterlists - new account @pearlcigs

The hum of Ellie's fingers plucking at the strings of her beloved guitar filled the room. She was sat on the bed, various bracelets cluttering her wrist. Your eyes were locked on her hands, watching intently, focused on her veins rather than her skills. Her shirt was unbuttoned, lazily array on her shoulders, the grey of her sports bra matching the boxers peaking through the top of her pants. She looked so good and had no idea what she was doing to you. "Come sit on my lap." Or maybe she did?

"Hm?" You responded, watching as she moved the electric guitar away from her lap to make room for you to sit. "Gonna teach you how to play." She smiles devilishly. You obey her wishes, skittishly walking towards her and sitting on her lap. Truly, you had no desire to learn how to play, more than okay with watching her experienced hands do all the work. She placed the guitar on your lap, chin resting on your shoulder.

Ellie grabbed your hands, putting them in the correct positions. She guided your fingers, her touch doing everything right to your body. Yeah, she definitely knew what she was doing to you. She strummed your fingers over the strings, the vibration on your thighs faint but you were already worked up. "Ellie." You uttered, a smirk on her face as she kissed your shoulder. "Yes, baby? Somethin' wrong?" She asked in a cocky tone.

Everything about her turned you on. "Do you need help?" Ellie's tone was confident, she was getting exactly what she wanted and you both knew it. "Saw you staring at my hands." She admits, kissing from your shoulder to your neck. "They excite you or something?" She continues with her painful teasing, stroking the strings once again to let the vibration flow your your thighs. "Ellie." You whimpered, composure quickly disintegrating.

"Bet you wish I was playing with you and not the guitar, hm?" One of Ellie's hands slide down to your thigh, squeezing tightly, veins becoming more prominent. "Yes." You admitted, breathlessly. "Yeah? Like seeing my fingers? Was doin' it on purpose." She admits, she was absolutely bold. Unafraid of the empty threats you might try to scare her with from her antics.

She moves the guitar off your lap, moving it to the side for later. Cold finger tips tickling up your thigh to you panty covered cunt. "Soaking through your pants, babe." She chuckles applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to watch you squirm. "El..." You whine, hips arching off her lap slightly. "Gonna fuck you like a rockstar and then write a song about it. Everyone's gonna know what a freak you are." Her free hand fingers her way to your lips, intruding through them. You don't even wait for her command to suck on her nimble fingers.

"The lyrics'll be about how much you love my fingers. How much you love them in your mouth... in your pussy.." She teases but she was far from finished, pushing your skirt up and pushing your panties to the side. The coldness from her hands make your warm cunt flutter from the temperature difference. "Maybe I'll put your desperate moans in the background vocals? Hm? How does that sound?" She slowly strokes your clit.

You moan, proving her point that the noises she drew from you were desperate. She slides a finger into your weeping cunt, pushing her fingers further into your mouth. The thrusts both hands at the same time, finger your cunt and mouth at the same time. "Yeah, baby. Take my fingers, filthy girl."

requested / inspired by @thatgiraffefromtlou rockstar ellie makes me lose it this took forever because i couldn't figure out how to execute it - i was also debating vibrator synced to the guitar with bluetooth so lmk if i should write that

#! ☢ ₊˚✧ tlou .#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #the last of us #the last of us x reader #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou x reader #tlou smut

1K notes · View notes

rose24207 · 2 months ago

Note

May I request a George Weasley x reader where they are dating in secret because she's a Slytherin and their friends and families wouldn't approve their relationship, but reader gets tired of it being a secret but George wants so keep the secret so they fight and then reader gets injured in a Quidditch match and George doesn't leave her side while she's in the hospital wing? with a fluff ending please

Love beyond house colors

Summary: After a secret relationship strained by house rivalry, George proves his love for his Slytherin girlfriend by standing by her side after a Quidditch injury and publicly declaring their relationship.

Genre: angst, fluff

TW: arguing, secret relationship, mention of prejudices

A/N: love the idea and here it is! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

Keeping your relationship with George a secret had been thrilling at first. It was sneaking around corridors, stolen kisses behind bookshelves, and whispered confessions under the cover of darkness. But over time, the secrecy had grown heavier. You weren’t ashamed of him—far from it. You adored him. What hurt was the idea that George might be ashamed of you.

You were a Slytherin. And as much as you hated the stereotypes, you knew the world wasn’t kind to your house. You could only imagine what the Weasleys would say if they knew George was dating you, and the thought of your own housemates’ ridicule made your stomach twist.

But the secrecy was becoming unbearable.

It all came to a head one crisp Saturday morning in the library. George had slipped into the seat across from you, his red hair unmistakable even under the hood he’d thrown over his head to stay incognito.

“Morning, love,” he whispered, his grin crooked and infectious.

You barely looked up from your parchment. “Morning.”

George tilted his head, frowning. “What’s wrong?”

You set your quill down and looked at him, your heart pounding. “I can’t keep doing this, George. The sneaking around, the lying—it’s exhausting.”

His expression faltered, and he leaned closer. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. You know what people would say if they found out—”

“I don’t care what people say!” you hissed, keeping your voice low. “George, I’m proud of you. I want to hold your hand in the halls, sit with you at meals, go to Hogsmeade without hiding in the shadows. Don’t you want that?”

“Of course I do,” he said softly, reaching for your hand, but you pulled it away.

“Then why are you so afraid?”

“I’m not afraid,” he said quickly, his jaw tightening. “But you’ve seen how my family talks about Slytherins. Fred would never let me live it down, and Mum—” He sighed. “I just want to protect what we have. I don’t want anyone ruining it.”

Your chest ached at his words. “You don’t trust us to be strong enough to handle it?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying, George?”

He hesitated, and in his silence, you stood, gathering your things.

“Y/N, wait—”

“I can’t keep doing this,” you said, your voice trembling. “When you’re ready to stop hiding, you know where to find me.”

You left before he could respond, blinking back tears as you walked away.

The Quidditch match later that afternoon was brutal. Slytherin was playing Ravenclaw, and tensions were high. You were determined to throw yourself into the game, hoping it would distract you from the ache in your chest.

The last thing you remembered was a bludger heading straight for you and a sharp, sickening pain as it collided with your side, sending you spiraling off your broom.

When you woke up, the first thing you noticed was the throbbing pain in your ribs. The second was the warm hand clutching yours.

“Y/N?”

You blinked, your vision clearing to see George sitting beside you, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed.

“George?” you croaked, your voice hoarse.

He exhaled a shaky breath, squeezing your hand tightly. “You scared the bloody hell out of me.”

“What happened?”

“You fell,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “The bludger hit you, and you fell off your broom. Madam Pomfrey said you’ve got a few cracked ribs, but you’ll be fine.”

You winced as you tried to sit up, and George immediately leaned forward, helping you gently. “Easy, love. Don’t push yourself.”

“Why are you here?” you asked, though you didn’t mean it harshly.

“Where else would I be?” he said, his eyes meeting yours. “I couldn’t leave you, Y/N. Not after—” He stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I’m an idiot. I should’ve never let you walk away this morning.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding for a different reason now.

“I was scared,” he admitted. “Not of what people would say, but of losing you. I thought keeping us a secret would protect us, but all it did was push you away. I don’t care what anyone thinks anymore. I love you, Y/N. And I want to be with you—no more hiding.”

Tears welled in your eyes, and you reached for his hand, gripping it tightly. “You mean that?”

“Every word,” he said, leaning closer. “I’ll tell Fred. I’ll tell my parents. I’ll tell the whole bloody school if you want me to.”

You let out a watery laugh, wiping your eyes. “Maybe start with Fred.”

He chuckled, his grin returning as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Deal.”

Leaning forward, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment. “I’m so sorry, love. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to.”

“You’re already forgiven,” you whispered, your heart swelling with love.

The next day, George made good on his promise. By breakfast, the entire Great Hall knew about your relationship. Fred’s initial shock gave way to teasing, but by the end of the day, even he was begrudgingly supportive.

And as you walked hand-in-hand with George through the castle, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d finally found the freedom you’d been longing for—all because of the boy who wasn’t afraid to love you, no matter the odds.

Thank you for reading!

#george weasley x reader #george weasley #fred weasley #slytherin #gryffindor #hogwarts houses #harry potter

167 notes · View notes

grimm-writings · 10 months ago

Note

Hey! Can I request a falin x reader where reader is a lone researcher in the dungeon and stumbles into chimera falin and the two fall in love?

Maybe Like a 5 times the reader has met chimera falin and 1 time the two get to meet after she’s turned back type story?

beauty/beast

…ft! falin x gn! reader

…tags! 5+1 format, reader is like slightly unhinged, fluff with moments of angst, slight suggestiveness

…wc! 2789

…notes! grimm tries not to come off as a monsterkisser for nearly 2.7k words, the fic,,,, hope you enjoy!!!! i love chimera falin so bad…

One

You can’t say you didn’t ask for this.

It’s a death sentence to traverse into a dungeon on your own, especially with your lack of combat skills. If you were sane, you’d have hired a bodyguard to help take down monsters you couldn’t handle. Fortunately, you are not, and decided instead you could very well handle monsters in a pacifistic way.

Any companion you told this to chose to stare at you like you admitted to dark magic.

So, you’ll simply prove the nay-sayers wrong! After all, how hard can it be to tame some monsters?

Very hard, actually. Like… incredibly.

You had to pride yourself in how you managed to sweet-talk some petty thieves for advice on monsters in the floor you’re currently on, even how to avoid orcs! At least that much is out of the way.

As for fighting, well, sometimes a very sharp slap to the head with a book, or even the sharp tip of a pen can subdue anyone, if just to give you enough time to run.

Besides, blood makes for some extra ink if you just happened to come by a dead body!

Going purely on efficiency alone, you’re doing tremendous work! When it comes to your study? Not so much.

The purpose of coming all the way down here is that you have a very specific urge. That being, to tame a beast. Some researchers gained the will to try and do the same to elemental spirits, why not other monsters?

One of the most common rebuttals you receive is that monsters are animals, they can’t be tamed at all, and you shouldn’t even try lest you want your head bitten off. Considering thus far you only got bitten by a walking mushroom, you think you’re doing rather well! (You did take an hour to contemplate to yourself how a walking mushroom seemingly has teeth, though.)

That brings you now later to the fourth floor, trying to shield your notes from the water as you lament losing more ink. Sure, you might write a little bit more than should be necessary, but you surely can’t be out already!

So, delight fills you as you peer past a doorway to see the top half of a woman face down on the floor. Haha, you can likely drain her pretty easily for some ink! Looks fresh enough, and some patches of her are already damp with red!

You skip over, humming as you do so, when all at once the woman jerks and looks up at you. Her golden eyes pierce your own, making you freeze in place. You wonder if something had gotten mixed up and a succubus ended up making its way to an upper floor, when the walls of the small tower the woman is inhabiting collapses.

A chimera screeches at you, as if telling you to leave it alone. If you weren’t so awestruck, you would have tried to shush it, lure it towards you and petted its oddly human head. Alas, you let the chicken-legged thing go, finding a safe haven for itself.

Day 1: I have found a beast in its purest form. I must pursue it. I must tame it.

Two

‘Obsession’ would be putting your experience lightly.

You had never wanted to gaze upon a monster as much as you wished to see the chimera again. Unique is its proportions, the lower body of a dragon and the torso and head of an adult tallwoman.

To anyone else, its face must be more of a lure. With the prettiest face and… great assets to boot, like a fish drawn to an angler fish's light, a blindsided adventurer comes near.

You had tried to navigate where the beast has gone, observing the damages of certain areas to lead you closer to it.

Thoughts course through your mind like speckles of a daydream as you walk and walk and walk, trying to sneak past other enemies and adventurers as you do so. What would its feathers feel like? Is it different from the mop of blonde hair on its head? You didn’t get the chance to observe its eyes – are they human or monster? What of its body heat? What is its diet?

Ah. Diet.

Your own body stops walking in realisation. By all means, comparing their mouth to the rest of their body, it’s ultimately impossible for the chimera to have a stable diet in this dungeon, correct?

Perhaps… you need to make a lure of your own.

Even after days of navigating the dungeon, you still have plenty of rations from the surface remaining in your bag. Hopefully the chimera likes the most noble meal one can fit inside a lunchbox — meats and pasta with the richest sauce. One could say your taste in meals is unique, eliciting a morbid curiosity. If the beast is more in tune with its human side, it will react the same.

You don’t know what tempted you to arrange a table with two chairs on either side. It’s not like the chimera could fit, but it was only suitable for your first formal meeting with it! Oh, how you can’t wait to observe it eating, and so close…!

If you’re lucky, it may even attempt to taste you.

You promptly shake off the thought.

What you focus on now is to draw the chimera near. It seems to favour secluded areas, but has been seemingly chased around. Aw, is it scared of humans? That’s just adorable! Or, maybe, it’s resting before setting off on a search… Now that’d be some juicy stuff! Who’s the chimera’s prey? Another monster, or humans?

Oh, of course you’ll use yourself as bait. You’re not a coward!

You know basic enough spells that you won’t be entirely drained of mana upon use, lighting up a route to catch the chimera’s attention upon spotting it. Down you lead it, making yourself look as bright and delectable as possible, before sitting in your seat, your meal readily prepared for the chimera.

You smile up at her as she pokes at the food you prepared, and she begins to eat.

Day 3: The beast was very hungry upon encounter. Even when she finished the meal, she insisted on having something more. I complied, and soon I had emptied my entire share of rations. The chimera eats food made for humans easily. This elicits curiosity – it might be proof enough that the chimera’s existence in this dungeon is unnatural. Even now, it looks too… human. I feel uncomfortable now referring to the beast as such – an ‘it’. Thus, I will refer to the chimera as ‘she’ from here on. It suits her. She truly is magnificent. All signs point to her being an attempt at creating a ‘beast-kin’, but instead of using the soul of a monster and body of a human, it’s as if it’s a mesh of both. A disgustingly beautiful transformation. To compare, it is not dissimilar to the breeding of a pug. Deliberately done to appease someone, something. A selfish birth. Someone must be wanting to do the same as I to the chimera – tame her to their whims. …I’ll have to look further into this.

Three

You feel less in control of your studies these days.

The more you hang around the dungeon, scavenging for food and following your muse, the more insane you feel. But, for the sake of research, you power through.

The chimera, she has been opening herself up to you. When she gets anxious, her feathers ruffle, and you shush her with pets. She calms down occasionally. Once, you had encountered her, blood on her body and under her fingernails. You cleaned her using the mana-infused water. She had never looked so calm.

She doesn’t feel like a monster you have tamed, but a friend.

This scares you.

Sure, there’s the possibility that the chimera is an unnatural phenomenon, and isn’t even a monster.

But that also means you’re losing your resolve.

The chimera sits with you, as you scrub her red-scaled talons free of dirt and blood. Her upper body leans on you, resting. You can even hear little chirps slipping from her lips.

She’s so cute.

Even as her golden eyes soften, the small slits in them dilating to exhibit relaxation, she smiles at you. You don’t flinch when her hands take your face to look at you. She’s a bird after all – she might be trying to memorise you, how you look, so she knows not to hurt you in the future.

You were nearly about to reminisce on your further embarrassment when the chimera speaks.

Four words. She spoke four words in the common language, leaving you staring at her. You’re speechless. She must know that she’s caught you off guard as she slowly tucks your hair behind your ear and moves away.

The moment is quickly ruined. “Dragon!” A boyish voice calls. “There you are. You’ve been leaving my side so frequently. There’s no time to–”

An elf in a cloak freezes upon noticing you. His heavy eye bags rival your own as he glares down at your sitting position.

You don’t do anything, merely looking up at your friend in confusion. She is back to being silent again, reaching her arms out to the elf, as if about to pick him up. He swats at her, before pointing at you.

“Kill them,” he demands her.

She hesitates. You also find yourself unable to move. So the chimera is under someone’s control after all. This elf, forcing you apart from your friend.

You hardly process your friend lifting you off the floor, her fingers closing in around your throat. Tighter and tighter. Your eyes can barely make out her empty expression as she squeezes the life out of your lungs.

Snap.

You fall onto the floor, and the mad mage leaves with his dragon in tow.

Day ??: “My name is Falin.” The chimera told me this last time we encountered one another. She has a name. A beautiful name that belongs just to her. Falin. …I would say ‘my Falin’, but she is not. She is under the control of that elf. I wouldn’t want her to be my Falin anyway. She shouldn’t belong to anyone. I was revived by a kindly Eastern woman, who is accompanying a group of retainers following their lord. They are joined by another party, also recently revived. Apparently, in my revival, I had uttered her name, “Falin,” and captured the attention of the malnourished lord. He is looking for her. …I was informed she is his love. Pushing personal feelings aside, I asked to come along. I neglected to mention Falin’s current state. I couldn’t do that to him right now. Maybe once he sleeps, or eats… but not now. Falin, I wish to save you. That is my goal now. You are not a monster to be tamed.

Four

Today, you met Laios Touden.

He is Falin’s older brother, you learn.

You met a lot of people, actually. You met Falin’s party, an elf who Falin went to school with, as well as Laios Touden.

“You’ve seen Falin?” He asks you, brow creased. He had leaned forward in interest. Lord Toshiro, Kabru, and Asebi were also listening to you with intrigue.

You nod. “Yes, but I fear the situation might be a little more than you have bargained for,” you vaguely inform.

Your words would be interrupted by Laios’ request to talk privately with Toshiro, to which you comply. You do already have a feeling of what's being said, something Kabru seems to pick up on as he glances over at you.

“Falin… isn’t faring well, is she?”

“Not in the traditional sense,” you reply. Kabru grimaces, clearly not appreciating your rather… erratic way of conversing. You add before he could talk back, “she’ll come back for me.”

Kabru furrows his brow. “Excuse me?”

His question remains unanswered until you are swept up in a heated battle. Looks of horror cross everyone’s faces at the bloody acts committed by the chimera.

You merely smile.

“Hello beauty,” you whisper when she turns to you. Falin steps forward, cornering you. You welcome her with open arms – and the world becomes dark again.

Day ??: Scorned though I may be by Lord Toshiro, I know myself not to be mad, but in love. Yes, I am in love. I know this now for certain. I know that he, too, is in love. I do not see his wishes badly. In fact, from a sane man’s mouth, it is perfectly understandable. Dark magic is dangerous. As is love. He’s risking his own reputation for it, even if others don’t appear to see things the way he does. But when push comes to shove, I am not that sane man. I am joining Laios Touden’s party in the retrieval of Falin. The aftermath of the battle consisted of a hearty meal. Who knew monsters could taste so nice? Keep this in mind for the next adventure. I had figured this all came from the result of black magic. Marcille Donato is a much more interesting woman than I thought. I’m sure I could learn a lot from her. Hence, we march forward. I know you aren’t in your right mind, Falin, but trust that I am. I will risk it all for you, beauty.

Five

The ice is cold underneath your fingertips. The woman encased inside is relaxed, as if she’s merely asleep. To see her completely separated from the lower half of the chimera body was something uncanny to you, so used to seeing her towering over you, able to squash you like a bug.

You turn to Marcille as she approaches. “You had the right mind, keeping her fresh like this. Deep down, you really did want to follow through with the plan!”

The blonde elf is sheepish. “I did end up causing a right mess in the end. It… It was selfish of me.”

“It was love,” you reply.

“Not the love Falin needs, though,” she finishes.

You both stare up at her in silence. If you were delusional enough, you could swear you could see Falin breathing.

“I love her,” you admit, quieter than you have ever been. “Is that alright with you?”

Marcille turns to you, her eyes wide. For such a gossip, she really hasn’t picked up on it?

“I…” She hesitates. Her hands reach her trousers, and she scrunches up the fabric in her hands. “It’s not my choice what – or who – Falin chooses. I don’t think I have the right to decide anything for her.”

You nod, graciously taking Marcille’s word to heart.

You feel you’ve also changed throughout your journey. Volatile as you may be, you appreciate Falin as she is. An untamed beauty. Not for anyone to claim or put their ideals onto.

She’s simply Falin.

“Come on,” Marcille takes your hand. She has the kind of look on her face where you know she accepts you readily. “Let’s go eat, okay? For Falin.”

You smile back. “For Falin.”

I don’t care about the day anymore. Falin is being revived today. Soon, I’ll have a chance to meet the real her. The beauty behind the beast. Ha. I haven’t called her that for a while. Maybe I’ll follow Toshiro’s way and propose immediately too? No, Marcille may accept me, but that might result in another need for revival. I can’t wait to get to know you.

the first time

Falin opens the door with a dazed expression, not expecting the crowd waiting around the door. Of course, this resulted in quite the hoo-ha. People running around, celebrating the successful revival of Falin Touden. You wait patiently for you to be welcomed once more.

The woman is sitting calmly at her bed. Some of her features are still feathered, but you’ve always liked how they felt underneath your fingertips.

She glances up at you, examining your form.

You’re taller than she thought.

“Hi,” you say, handing over a random blade of grass you picked.

Falin takes it. Her fingers brush against your own. She starts twirling the natural green between her fingers. She smiles warmly. “Hello,” her soft, tired voice returns. It’s so sweet that you might melt. “My name is Falin. It’s nice to meet you.”

You know from the way she glances up at you that she already remembers you quite well.

Feeling the happiest you’ve ever been, you fall into Falin, pulling her into the tightest of hugs.

“It’s so wonderful to meet you too, beauty.”

Today, she asked me if she could belong to me. I said yes, but only if she belonged to herself first. She accepted.

#✮ grimm's fics!#FALLS OVER #this is my longest fic so far i think wow #as falin deserves #delicious in dungeon #delicious in dungeon imagines #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi imagines #dungeon meshi x reader #falin #falin touden #falin x reader #falin imagines #falin touden x reader #falin touden imagines

481 notes · View notes

aceofshitposts · 4 months ago

Text

Happy Halloween y'all :) werewolf au! for brevity and simplicity just know in this au that werewolves often keep their ears and tail even in humanoid form for ease of communication. this really only comes up once in this fic but lmao i didn't want to do exposition about it in the text.

The thing about being the only human in a pack of werewolves is that Tim is often smothered. It's not that he doesn't appreciate their concern, mostly, it's just... Tim would like some independence.

He might not be able to turn into a giant wolf but that didn't mean he was helpless. He was a witch in his own right, the best in Gotham village, and he wanted to practice his craft without his pack mates complaining about the smell of his various concoctions.

It was traditional for witches to set up post along the edge of the territory. Dick had whined that Tim didn't need to go off on his own so far from town, his apothecary didn't have to follow tradition, but Tim liked the quiet. He liked the duty of setting and maintaining wards along the entrance to their territory, greeting visitors and returning townsfolk alike and offering his potions when needed.

Besides, it's not like he was actually that far away. Not for a bunch of wolves who could cross the town in a quarter hour if they needed to.

So really, there was nothing they could complain about.

Well. Except the rogue wolf that shows up just across the river one day.

The river marks the border of the Wayne territory, a singular bridge allowing access. Tim's cabin is a mere 20 feet away from it and the path, the first point of contact for travelers in need of potions or directions.

Tim is checking the wards early in the morning when he sees what looks to be a flash of red in the sunlight. It's gone again before Tim can really focus on it, leading Tim to think it was a bird of some such flying around in the bush.

He puts it out of his mind, returning to the cabin to tend to his potions.

Dick visits in the afternoon.

They do the usual routine. Tim offers Dick a particularly strong cup of mint tea specifically to see him wrinkle his nose at the smell, ears going flat against his head and tail drooping, and Dick smothers Tim in his arms in a bone crushing hug while asking whether Tim really wanted to be alone out here.

"I can take care of myself," Tim insists.

"I know, I know," Dick replies because of course he knows. Tim has proved himself more than enough. "I still worry, though."

It's hard on wolves, Tim thinks, to have a pack member want to live apart. Especially on these wolves, who knew loss of a pack member so keenly. It is unusual, however, for Dick to look particularly nervous, tapping a single claw against his teacup.

"Is something wrong?"

Dick sighs, giving his tea a particularly nasty look before downing the whole thing.

"Bruce got a letter this morning. Apparently there's been some rouge wolf spotted in the neighbouring territories."

Oh. Well, that, Tim supposes, changes some things.

"I'll be alright," Tim says.

Alright is not how Tim would describe himself a few days later.

The wolf appears just after lunch, sitting at the base of a great old tree like an omen. He's a massive wolf, probably rivaling even Bruce in size when he's in full shift, dark black fur with a white patch on the chest and a red leather muzzle fitted around his head. It's an odd style, covering most of the head except the eyes and leaving spots for his ears to stick out.

Probably, Tim should have alerted the pack right away. He could set off the wards and have Bruce and Dick and them all rushing to his location immediately. But the wolf doesn't approach the bridge. He simply sits, watching.

It makes Tim curious.

What would a rogue wolf bound by a red leather muzzle achieve by appearing at the edge of the Wayne territory?

Tim really needs to learn when not to let his curiosity get the best of him.

"I just want to help you," Tim whispers holding his hands out in a placating gesture.

The wolf (Tim has decided to call him Red for the time being) is growling, body hunkered low to the ground. If it weren't for the muzzle Tim would have full view of a mouth full of teeth.

It had become clear, to Tim at least, that Red's condition had to be connected to the muzzle. A binding spell? Something that kept him from shifting back into humanoid form, surely. It also, obviously, kept him from eating anything substantial which Tim thought must be awful.

The growling continues but Red doesn't move. Tim approaches cautiously, trying to telegraph his movements to prevent startling him. He peers around Red's head and.

"Shit, that's a problem."

There's no buckle on the muzzle. Tim will have to cut it off.

He probably should have said something more substantial than swearing before pulling out his knife. But instead he moves to slide the blade under the thick leather and Red bucks immediately. The knife slips from Tim's grip, sliding against the meat of his palm as he struggles to grab it.

Tim is knocked against the base of the tree, a huge paw pressing between his shoulder blades and growling so loud Tim can feel it vibrating through his bones. Red sticks his muzzle right against Tim's neck, claws digging into his shirt and flesh.

"I'm sorry! There's no buckle, I can't get it off without cutting it, I promise!"

He can feel Red's claws flex before moving to the side. Tim rolls over cautiously then tries to get up. Red rushes forward, using a paw to knock Tim back down, only allowing him to sit up.

The air feels still around them. Red could easily hurt Tim further even without his teeth. Tim slowly brings the knife up to Red's head, slides it under the strap just behind Red's ear and begins sawing away at it.

The moment the knife breaks through Red jumps back, shaking his head and pawing at the muzzle to get it off. Once it falls to the ground Tim can clearly see his face. There's a white diamond between his eyes which are an unsettling shade of blue green. That's all Tim sees before he's pinned again, a paw pressing down on his chest and now the feeling of hot breath against his neck. Red breathes in, teeth pressing into Tim's skin.

Then he is gone again, dashing into the woods, leaving Tim to take heaving breaths and then tend to his wounds.

#astrix writes #jaytim #will there be more of this? of course if i can find time lol and possible [whispers] sex

205 notes · View notes

jo1sstuff · 6 months ago

Text

I think I know who the Archivist is, and it's not Jon. (TMAGP SPOILERS AHEAD)

(TLDR: I think it's Celia. Read on to see why!)

So.

I know the title sounds kinda click-baity, and this is gonna be a bit long, but this is such a ground-breaking theory that you'll hopefully want to stick around.

This is just a theory, so I might be wrong, but it would explain a lot.

I listened to TMAGP 29 earlier, and since my sister doesn't listen to TMA/TMAGP but I like to talk to her about it, I was mentioning the whole "It's on the train" thing, and a crazy theory popped in my head. So now I'm here sharing it with you all, so you can discuss it and maybe prove me wrong/right.

Anyways, I'm gonna start with something that might seem confusing at first, but it'll make sense later.

So we all know Celia, right?

Well, it's pretty much confirmed that she's from the TMA universe, but there are still a few things that don't quite make sense.

For example, the 'sleepwalking' thing she does. She'll wake up somewhere with no memory of what happened.

While I've seen some theories explaining it as the TMAGP Celia sharing a body with TMA Celia, it doesn't make much sense to me. Why would the TMAGP Celia still be in there? Wouldn't TMA Celia be able to communicate with her? Why hasn't anyone else mentioned seeing Celia when she 'sleepwalks'? Wouldn't TMAGP Celia have friends that would talk to her? If so, why wouldn't they notice it's not the same Celia?

Anyways, that theory just doesn't make sense to me.

Another thing that will make sense later: We all remember Michael Distortion from TMA, right?

And how his reflection looked different than how he sometimes looked in person?

An Avatar looking different through glass; whether through Sasha's window, or in the reflection of the cafe's window.

That was the thought that made me first come up with this theory.

The other thought was the "It's on the train" bit.

Sam and Celia get on a train to 'follow' the Archivist. Alice, however, sees it on the train with them.

(technically we don't know for certain that it was the Archivist, or if it was in or on top of the train, but it context makes it seem like the Archivist was in the train with them)

Why wouldn't Sam and Celia notice it? It's a monster that's all eyes, how could they miss that? Sure, it might have been hiding, but they likely weren't the only passengers on board. So why didn't the other passengers see it?

Well, what if they do see it, just not it the right way?

Because of the whole 'avatar looking different in windows' thing, what if that's why they don't notice?

Because they're not looking through the window?

Alice is though.

Alice is looking through the window.

She sees it.

What if, the Archivist is in a human form, but Alice can only see it because she's looking through the glass at it?

But who would it be?

Celia.

It's Celia.

Who else could it be?

What if, when she's 'sleepwalking', she's actually in Archivist form?

Sam got Archived, after all. And shortly after that, Celia appeared.

Wouldn't Celia have noticed the Archivist leaving?

Unless she just came to.

And she's so used to it happening, that she isn't bothered by the time she finds Sam.

Who knows how far away she got, after all. Maybe it was only one alley away, maybe it was a few blocks.

She'd have some time to compose herself.

And after that disorienting event, she managed to find her way to the O.I.A.R. and found Sam.

She was in the same area and time-frame the Archivist was there.

It's her.

Another thing: The statement-givers. Aka, the talking corpses. Aka, people that got Archived by the Archivist.

I'll bet that every time it mentions Celia having a 'sleepwalking' episode, it was around the same time that someone got Archived.

I'm not gonna go back through the episodes to see if I'm right on that, but if someone else will, it would be very much appreciated.

How exactly Celia became an Archivist, I don't know.

Maybe when she changed universes the Eye decided to make her its new 'precious little boy girl'. Maybe (if we believe that TMAGP is Somewhere Else) the Archivist part of Jon got stuck in Celia. Maybe she even became an Avatar by herself, who knows! I certainly don't.

Another thing I don't know is whether she'd remember what happens when she's the Archivist.

She seemed surprised to find Sam, after all.

And (if I remember right) she doesn't know how she gets to places while she's 'sleepwalking'.

I also don't know how Jack fits into this, but he's a mystery of his own.

Anyways, feel free to chip in with your own thoughts and criticisms, I could be completely proved wrong next episode after all!

237 notes · View notes

jinogasux-fr · 4 months ago

Text

Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information… well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

#santae #jin speaks #i spent so much time on that game and mann do i regret it LMAO

270 notes · View notes

madthetruemad · 16 days ago

Text

what if it wasn't a burden (it never was to begin with) | sung jinwoo x disabled reader

You didn't hate the idea of soulmates, not at all. However, being wheelchair bound wasn't exactly something you considered ideal for your fated to be to see. Even as you push your wheels forward, you deeply hope you never run into them. Seeing as how you'll never walk again, you hated the fact that if you did meet your soulmate, you'll just end up being a burden to them. That's what you hated. Well, until your soulmate proved you wrong, but that wouldn't be till much much later.

You wondered what different colors actually looked like instead of the monochromatic world that you are so used to seeing. The black, white, and grey hues shining through different tints and shades being as dull as your thoughts.

Much like what you would see in those romance manga, soulmates existed here. Though, you honestly hoped you never met yours even if it would two things happening. One, you would finally meet your fated to be and live happily-ever-after and two, the world would burst into color.

However…, your fingers absently tapped away at at the armrest of your wheelchair. Your legs weren’t exactly working right now. They did, at one point, but an accident had happened, and, well, you hoped that you never met your soulmate. You loathed the fact that you might be a burden to them, and you definitely didn’t want to see the sympathetic look on their face or the look of disappointment either.

“OW!”

You winced as you rubbed your forehead, your eyes squinting at the culprit as you furrowed your brow at her, “what was that for?!”

Your friend who was sitting across from you grinned as stirred her straw into her drink, “you were having those self-deprecating thoughts again.”

You frowned as you stopped rubbing your forehead and grabbed your own drink. The small café you both were in was quiet, but it still had a little hustle and bustle as everyone moved around.

“How can you even tell?”

Your friend took a sip of her too sugary drink before answering, “it’s that look on your face.”

“My look?”

“Yeah, you just.. look so sad. I don’t know, it’s hard to describe your expression sometimes. Like it’s a sad emotion I never felt before so I can’t exactly put into words? Does that make sense?”

“I guess?”

The conversation went from there. You too talked about all sorts of things. But work was usually the main topic you both settled on at the end as she stood up to toss her empty cup and then went over to grab the handles of your wheelchair.

“H- hey, you don’t need to do that! I can push myself!”

You hated being a burden to others.

“Oh, shut up and let me do this.”

You grumbled to yourself as you both left the café.

“Anyway,” she started, “how’s the life of being a famous author? Got any new book ideas swirling in that head of yours?”

“Not really? I guess I am just in a writer’s block…, but how about you? You’re a hunter…, your work must be far more exciting than mine.”

“The only exciting thing is not getting hurt and winding up in the hospital like this one E-rank I know.”

You know who she’s talking about but can’t place his name.

“Well, I’m glad you don’t get badly hurt-,” you were cut off when her phone dinged. It was same sound for when she gets a notification for a job.

“Dang it,” she said as she checked it once we got to a crosswalk.

“Something wrong?”

“This one is immediate and… I kind of need the rent money.”

You smiled and shooed her away, “better get going then, we can hangout again tomorrow if you’re free.”

“You sure?”

“You need the rent money.”

“R- right,” she said sheepishly as you took control of your wheelchair, “I’ll see you around?”

You nodded, “see ya.”

She gave you a hug from behind before turning to jog down the street. Sighing to yourself, you turned back forward and waited for the crosswalk to turn green and by this point a lot of people started to form up at the line. And it wasn’t until it turned green and everyone started walking did you hear another notification, most likely for another hunter.

“Mann, it’s the other way-“

Your eyes widened as the man in front of you turned and accidentally bumped his foot against your leg and almost instantaneously did your world burst with color. Everything was so bright as you squinted. Your eyes were basically being assaulted by all the different hues affronting your eyeballs, “holy-“

“I’m so sorry-!”

You both stopped and looked at one another, it didn’t take a genius to know what just happened even as you both got your bearings.

“Come on! Move it brats!”

The man who hit your leg and made your world fill with color was pushed back the other way as you were forced forward, and once you both were on another sides of the streets both crowds seemed to move you two along. Neither of you being able to catch a full glimpse of the other before you found yourself alone and the man nowhere in sight.

“I wasn’t even able to open my mouth to ask his name…”

#solo leveling #solo leveling jinwoo #jinwoo x you #jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung #sung jinwoo #jinwoo x y/n

109 notes · View notes

morganski-19 · 10 months ago

Text

part 1, part 2, part 3

Wayne stays at the hospital longer than he should. Rubbing his fingers along Eddie’s pick necklace like a rosary. Hoping that if he just prays hard enough, if his voice can be heard, Eddie will wake up.

The prognosis isn’t great. Each day that passes marks another day where his chances of waking up get lower. Even though many people have woken up from medically induced comas much later than this. According to the doctors. According to the pamphlets given to him at the start of all of this shit. But those are just words. Words he doesn’t believe fully.

Six days with no changes. No improvement. Just a tube to make sure he’s breathing regularly and an IV to make sure he doesn’t die of dehydration or starvation. The doctors say that his brain still shows activity, and his heart hasn’t missed a beat since he was last revived. Eddie’s alive, but just how much?

How much longer will Wayne sit in this agony waiting for him to wake up? Or how long until the string of hope just ends six feet under?

Religion was something that Wayne dealt with sporadically. He was raised Catholic, sort of still is a practicing Catholic. Goes to church when he isn’t too tired, still prays, and goes to confession sometimes. Just didn’t always make sense. But now, it’s all he’s got.

Eddie’s in God’s hands now. Whether that’s the God in the Bible, or some other deity of the many other religions in the world, Wayne doesn’t care anymore. As long as he’s heard, and this being knows his boy is good. That he was taken far too soon.

Eddie liked to say there was nothing much for him past high school. That he was going to run out of town as soon as he could and fight to make something of himself. Be a struggling musician, find odd jobs. Anything to keep him out of the monotony of a corporate job. Get him away from the conservative views and stuffiness of this town. Somehow get big enough to prove them all that he wasn’t a failure. Or never come back to prove them all right.

It would be a sad day when Eddie finally left for good. The trailer would seem empty without the life that Eddie brought. The peace and quiet that Wayne always asked for not bringing any peace because it was too damn quiet. He knew this now because it’s what’s keeping him here each day.

The beeping of the heart monitor was like the heart beating in his chest. Some noise came from Eddie to prove that he was alive. Almost like he was acting himself again. The motel room he was staying in was too quiet. No music down the hall, no clanking around the kitchen, no yelling at the TV or a book. Just the occasional noise if there were neighbors and people driving to the hospital. It was all the wrong noise, though.

“Excuse me,” a nurse says as she enters the room. “Visiting hours are over, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Wayne nods, getting up from his chair. Back screaming as it pops itself back into place. It’s his day off, or night off tonight, so he can actually sleep. If it ever comes to him. Might be one of those nights where the ceiling and him have a staring contest. He’s been close, but never quite won one of those yet.

The Chief’s car sits outside of the motel as Wayne pulls up. It’s only been a day since they spoke last, there can’t be that many updates. Wayne can’t think of any other reason he’s here.

Wayne invites him into the motel room, the urge to offer him a drink screaming at him, but he has none to give. Hospitality doesn’t come with the room fees.

“I’m guessing there’s something new, that’s why you're here.”

“Not necessarily. I’m still trying, but until the one guy I normally negotiate with comes out of hiding, that’s when the real talking happens.”

Wayne sits down on one of the chairs, too tired to keep standing. “Why’re you here then?”

“To check on you. I know the hospital life well. It’s no picnic, especially if you’re doing it alone.” He pulls another one of the chairs over to sit down.

There’s no lie in that. “I’m about as good as anyone could think.”

The Chief pulls two beers out from under his coat, handing one to Wayne. He takes it faster than any beer he has in his life. Pulling out his pocket knife to take off the cap.

“How long till that friend of yours comes out of hiding?”

Hopper shrugs. “Don’t know. Sent him a few threatening letters, and he still owes me one, so we’ll see. If things were better here, I’d go hunt the man down myself.”

Wayne nods. The company’s nice, he can’t lie. Sitting in solidarity with someone who knows what you’ve been through. Making sure nothing’s going worse than it already is. Like a sponsor through the hospital proceedings.

When the sun finally finishes setting, the chief excuses himself. Not before handing Wayne a slip of paper with his number on it, just in case anything happens.

The more days go by, the more Wayne is reminded that he’s not alone in this. Not fighting this battle alone. People believe him, more than just kids. People with influence. It shows in how people keep coming in and out of the hospital room. Saying how they know he’s innocent. That he’s guilty of some things, but not this.

It makes him think back to that afternoon, snapping at the Harrington kid. It’s so easy to be angry at people who are better off, in so many ways, that vision gets blinded. Seeing someone who went through something similar to Eddie get out, and be conscious while his boy is still asleep. Probably will never have to worry about hospital bills and medical debt. It makes him angry.

Even if the kid doesn’t deserve it. Wayne has no clue who this kid is and how he knows Eddie. Why he claims to have been there in the week Eddie was missing. What it all means. It doesn’t make any sense. None at all.

But then the next morning when he’s getting coffee, there’s the kid again coming in beside Dustin. Talking to someone at the front desk before heading down the hall. Right to the elevator, and up to the floor Eddie’s on.

Wayne heads back to the room, ready to kick him out again or apologize. He’s not sure yet. But, the room is empty. Steve is instead down the hall, talking to Susan Mayfield. Looking serious as hell, and halfway ready to cry.

Another kid comes out of the room, one who’s stopped by a few times to check on Eddie. Lucas, Wayne thinks is his name. Remembers it only because Eddie had ranted a few times about some kid named Lucas trying to be on both the basketball team and part of the Dragons club.

The kid says something to Steve before he’s being wrapped in a hug and starts crying. Steve just holding him as this kid breaks down. Presumably about the person behind those doors. Wayne assumes it’s probably Susan’s kid. Remembers hearing that she was in bad shape. Hopefully, that didn’t get any worse.

Wayne returns to his room, not wanting to intrude. A nurse comes in a while later and asks him to step out for a bit.

“What for?”

“Eddie’s breathing has improved over the last twenty-four hours. The doctor came in to check on him early this morning, and said that if by noon it was the same, the breathing tube could come out.”

“And that’s a good thing?” Wayne’s hesitant to believe anything these days.

The nurse nods. “As long as his oxygen levels stay, well level, then yes. It means that his body is well on the way to recovery.”

Wayne nods, taking his coffee to the waiting room. There, he just waits.

Next part

Note: The next part of this will get a bit interesting. I've been having ideas for a while now of making this duel POV between Wayne and someone else, maybe Steve. Mainly because I keep thinking of conversations that would happen, but Wayne would be nowhere to witness it. But I think what this fic needs is a POV not directly in the main relationship that will be happening, to keep it an outsider POV fic. So I'm thinking that the second POV would be from either Robin or Dustin. I'm currently deciding between the two so let me know what you think. I'm also going to start posting this to ao3, and will provide the link to that once I think of a title. I will continue to post the smaller parts here on tumblr, and you will not be missing out on any of the story if you only follow it on here. For now all of the parts will also have the tag #morgan's wayne POV. If that changes, as it probably will since this is no longer just a wayne POV fic, I will let you know. Also, Max is alive, they just got a heavy diagnosis that you will learn of later.

tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar, @tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda, @fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77, @here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium, @resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly, @gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight, @devondepresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug, @greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake, @morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs

#stranger things #wayne munson #jim hopper #dustin henderson #susan mayfield #lucas sinclair #steve harrington #pre steddie #post season 4 #eddie munson #eddie in a coma #everyone lives/nobody dies #chills right to the marrow fic

321 notes · View notes

mya-valentine · 5 months ago

Text

Headcanon: Tomura Shigaraki with an S/O Who Teases Him

Shigaraki absolutely hates how much his S/O teases him… at least, that’s what he tells himself. He’s not used to people pushing his buttons in such a playful way, and it throws him off balance. Every time they poke fun at him, he shoots them an annoyed glare, but deep down, he’s amused, even if he’d rather crumble into dust than admit it.

His S/O loves teasing him about everything—his posture, his video game obsession, the way he scratches his neck when he’s stressed. “You’re gonna wear a hole in your neck at this rate, Shiggy,” they’ll say with a smirk, earning an immediate growl in return. But despite his irritation, he can’t help the faint smirk that sometimes flickers on his face.

They’ll call him cute or handsome just to watch his reaction, knowing it makes him squirm. Shigaraki will scoff or dismiss it, but the faint blush creeping up his neck is impossible to miss. His S/O will push even further, saying, “Aww, Shiggy, don’t get all shy on me now,” which only makes him scowl harder and mumble something under his breath.

He’ll throw sarcastic insults back at them, but his heart’s not really in it. His S/O knows it’s all in good fun, and honestly, it becomes their favorite game—seeing how far they can push Shigaraki before he snaps. Of course, his version of snapping is dramatically throwing his hood up and sulking for a while.

Despite his annoyance, Shigaraki secretly loves the way his S/O can make him feel normal. When they tease him, it’s not because they’re afraid of him or walking on eggshells around him—it’s because they genuinely like him, and that’s something he’s not used to. It’s oddly comforting.

Sometimes, Shigaraki will try to get them back, mimicking their teasing tone or throwing a sarcastic jab. “You think you’re funny, huh? You’re the one hanging out with a villain, so what does that say about you?” He’s proud when his S/O just laughs it off, unfazed. He’s still learning the teasing game, but he’s getting better.

When they make fun of his appearance, like his messy hair or the way he dresses, Shigaraki will roll his eyes and mutter, “You think I care about stuff like that?” But secretly, he’ll glance in the mirror later, wondering if maybe he could style his hair a little better, not that he’d ever let his S/O know.

His S/O loves playfully daring him to do things he’d never normally do. “Bet you can’t go a whole day without scratching your neck,” they’ll challenge, and Shigaraki will immediately take it personally, determined to prove them wrong… for about an hour, before he gives in and grumbles about their stupid dare.

The more time they spend together, the more Shigaraki realizes that his S/O’s teasing actually makes him feel seen. It’s not about making fun of him—it’s their way of connecting, of showing they care without getting all sappy about it. And while he’ll never outright say he likes it, he does let them tease him more than anyone else.

His S/O is probably the only person who can get away with playfully touching his face or hair without him recoiling in disgust. He might slap their hand away, but it’s half-hearted, and sometimes he’ll even let them brush some stray hair out of his face—though he’ll grumble, “Don’t push your luck.”

When he’s in a particularly bad mood, his S/O knows how to balance their teasing. They’ll tone it down just enough to lift his spirits without going too far, understanding that even the King of Villains needs a break from time to time. And while Shigaraki won’t say it, their teasing is one of the few things that actually helps him feel a little better.

Masterlist

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shiragaki #mha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader #bnha tomura #mha tomura #tomura x reader #mha #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #mha x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shigaraki

177 notes · View notes

mechformers · 2 years ago

Text

Reypaytun

[Reypaytun [ˈɾɛj.paj.tun] - Blood red (color) ]

6.7k words | Masterpost |

Tsu'tey x Human Reader

Summary: Tsu'tey wakes up after a night of vigorous lovemaking to blood smeared between your thighs. He does not take it well, panicking hard as he "flees the scene", effectively leaving you behind. Eventually, he learns what really happened and once he does, Tsu'tey is not afraid anymore.

Content warning: Period blood, Period, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Period Sex, Period Cunnilingus, Period Fingering, Squirting, Stomach/Belly Bulge, Size Difference, Na'vi/Human. Idk I feel like "Tsu'tey is not afraid anymore" should be a tag of its own lol

Authors Note: So this was supposed to be pure, filthy porking and nothing more. BUT(!) as with most things that I do, it caught a case of the feels and it became both angsty and filthy, and way out of hand... Sorry? lol Also, I stared too long at that manip and now it just looks stupid and wrong all over lol Might add it on a later date though, if I can find a way to make it look okay, and most definitely to Ao3 when that day comes lol Sorry, I know it won the poll T.T

Tsu'tey didn’t know how he managed to end up where he currently was, curled up behind you, a sky demon, after a long night of intense lovemaking. For months, he had battled with his own emotions, punished himself for the sheer betrayal his heart was pushing on him once he realized what the speeding of his heart actually meant. At first, he had thought it was a side effect of surviving the war with the sky demons - after falling from such a great height. But in the end, he had to be honest with himself that the speeding of his heart had happened long before the war officially came to a head.

No, Jakesully was to blame for this, and no one else. He had brought you with him when he convinced Eytukan and Mo’at to welcome Grace Augustine back into the clan. Along this Normspellman person, you had walked in beside them, a tiny little creature, speeding as fast as you could with your ridiculously small legs to keep up. You had been so helpless and pathetic that the sheer sight of you had made Tsu’tey angry at Jakesully to have allowed you to even join them. Had you been present with Jakesully and Grace Augustine when his betrayal was revealed, however, Tsu’tey knew that he would not have dealt with the situation as reasonably as he had. As it was, however, he ended up falling from the metallic flying machine, littered with bullet holes. Crashing through the forest to the ground, the sky demons greeted him with even more horror. When he came to again, it was your small hands that tended to him until Jakesully and Neytiri could bring him to Mo’at.

After losing his kuru, Tsu’tey had not been kind to anyone, but especially not to you in particular. The words he had said, the strength with which he had grabbed or shoved you, were beneath him, but the fact that it had happened, he could never hide from. And nor did he. Once he got his feet under himself again, once his mind cleared enough for him to realize a thing or two about this new life of his - he had nothing but the wellbeing of the clan and you on his mind. Convincing you to forgive him, to give him a chance, however, had not been easy. In fact, it had demanded all of Tsu’tey’s spare time to prove himself worthy of your affection.

In the end, you reluctantly agreed to date him - a sky people invention where two or more people become mates on a trial basis, to see if you’re compatible. It pained Tsu’tey to no extent to know that this was all you were willing to give him, that you trusted him just about as far as you could throw him. But he had done this, had caused this situation, he needed to stand steady in it or leave you be. Now, Tsu’tey was a lot of things, but a quitter, he had never been.

The courting process - the dating - had been long and difficult, but eventually, you had agreed to live with him in the kelku he had made specifically with you in mind. it had everything you needed within it and although you had been skeptical at first, after seeing all the hard work he had laid down with you in mind, something seemed to click right for once. It made Tsu’tey relax a little, made his anxiousness calm down enough for him to noticeably lighten up again. The first time he had cracked a joke or two, laughing joyfully, Jakesully had choked with surprise. It had been a very good feeling indeed.

With you in his life, everything just seemed easier. Laughter came easier to him, his normally stressed and harsh demeanor mellowed out and despite the fact that you are a sky person, Tsu’tey has never been happier in his life. It’s probably why he lets himself lose control while making love to you. The sounds you make beneath him, the gasped whispers of endearment as you cling to him only fuels his need for you further. For hours, he plows into you, driving you over the edge time and time again until you’re a sweaty mess beneath him, your skin slick and salty, and warm. As his cock presses as far as it can go into you, bulging your stomach enough that he can feel himself, Tsu’tey knows that there is nowhere he would rather be than right here in your arms.

Releasing one last time inside of you, Tsu’tey kisses your lips so softly, it makes you whine. Smiling down at you, he notices how your eyes glitter as you stare up at him. The right thing to do would be to clean you up, to bathe your sore muscles, but at that moment, Tsu’tey loses against the voice in the back of his head that’s telling him to let his scent seep into the very pores of your skin. You fall asleep in each other's arms like that, with loving words and soft kisses on your lips. It is the best few hours of sleep Tsu’tey has had in ages, the best sleep he has had in the month you have lived in their kelku.

But when Tsu'tey awakens early the next morning there's something wrong. Distantly, he registers an iron scent on the air that he knows all too well, but as his mind is slowly waking up, he doesn't pay it much mind. Instead, he runs his large hand over your small body, grabbing your small breast in his large hands as he kisses your shoulder, smiling into your skin as you too awake with a positively satisfied sigh. Tsu’tey runs his hand down your body, over your waist, squeezing your curved and soft hip appreciatively before continuing down to your subtle thighs, pulling a breathy moan from your lips that has his own skin erupt in a million small goosebumps. Continuing on his joyous morning journey, Tsu’tey presses his hand between your legs to find your core already wet and waiting for him. Pressing a finger into you, he lets out a rumble from deep within his chest at how ready you are for him.

Pulling back, Tsu’tey guides you over to lay on your back before slotting himself between your thighs, your hot, moist core smearing slick over his breastbone where it presses into you. Grinning up, he bends his head down, kissing your shoulder, your breasts, giving each nipple a good suck, before continuing down to your molten core, never breaking eye contact with you as he starts his breakfast. Your beautiful eyes are probably why he doesn’t notice the distinct coppery iron scent or the blood that is smeared on the inside of your thighs. Your breathy gasp as his thumb circles your pearl is probably why he doesn’t notice the bloody trail that has seeped from your puffed and raw cunt before he’s there. It takes him back with such shock that he's on his knees between your widespread thighs before either one of you can register what has happened. Lifting his hand to reach out to the blood, he's met with the bloody picture of his own digits between your bloody thighs and core.

"I have hurt you, yawne," Tsu’tey mumbles low, his voice small, even to his own ears. Getting up on your elbows to see what's going on, you look at the blood on his hands and on his chest before you look down at yourself, noticing the blood smeared between your thighs.

"Shit," you swear, clapping your thighs together, hiding your core from Tsu'tey's eyes in apparent shame. "It's alright, Tsu'tey. This happens."

It is alright?

This happens?

Tsu'tey can't believe what he's hearing. His careless mating has hurt you, has caused you to bleed from one of your most sacred places. The immense pain you must have been in while he took his pleasures from you… Shame floods through him and before you're able to say anything more, he gets up to his feet, grabs his tweng and bow, and flees your kelku. Running as fast as his legs can take him, Tsu’tey doesn’t stop until he’s crashing to his knees by the river. Vigorously, he scrubs his hand and chest until his skin feels raw. He can’t get the image of your bloodied cunt out of his head, nor the vulnerable way you had looked up at him. With great shame and stones weighing heavy in his heart, he gets up to meet the hunting party he was to be a part of that morning, only for the hunters to stare weirdly at him.

“Where is your battle band, brother? Your blade?” Atan asks as he steps up to him, Takuk closely following behind.

Patting the bottom of his ribs, he finds the skin bare from its usual protective layer. However, Tsu’tey could not go back to their kelku, even though you might not be there anymore. The sheer thought of crossing your path makes his ears bend painfully low against his skull with shame. Closing his eyes he takes a deep breath before opening them again to stare at his old friend.

“I will go without,” He growls too harshly, making Atan look at him with concern.

“Brother, I do not think that is wise,” Atan starts, but Tsu’tey cuts him off.

“It will be fine,” Tsu’tey bites back at his friend.

“Go back home to get it, we will wait,” Takuk presses, his gentle voice making Tsu’tey sigh deeply.

“Let us go before the hunt will be in vain,” He doesn’t miss the way Atan and Takuk look at each other with worried expressions.

The hunt is not successful. Or at least, not on his part. Tsu’tey is unfocused and stressed, resulting in him missing each and every shot before he’s even able to let the arrows go. When they return, it is without honor for Tsu’tey. Without bidding his friends farewell, Tsu’tey leaves the party to stew alone. Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long before Jakesully finds him and somehow that is even worse.

“What’s wrong, brother? Trouble in paradise?” Jakesully ask, immediately souring Tsu’tey’s already sour mood.

“Go away, demon,” Tsu’tey growls, noticing how harsh the words are spoken, making him involuntarily wince.

“Demon, huh? That bad?” Jakesully hums thoughtfully, falling into silence beside Tsu’tey. It takes hours of the two of them just sitting in silence together, Jakesully waiting him out, letting Tsu’tey wallow in his own shame and misery until finally, Tsu’tey breaks his silence.

“I hurt Y/n during our mating,” Tsu’tey admits, the words all but a whisper of shame, but of course, Jakesully hears them.

“Good hurt or bad hurt?” He asks as if there is a difference.

“There is no such thing as good hurt, Jakesully,” Tsu’tey growls angrily at his stupid friend.

“Trust me, brother there definitely is and I can assure you, with your size difference, there absolutely is,” The cheeky grin on Jakesully’s face is beyond infuriating to Tsu’tey.

“I made her bleed from her core, tell me where the good hurt is in that, demon,” Tsu’tey hisses before his shoulders slump, and the anger at Jakesully bleeds back into shame at his own actions.

“Oh…” Jakesully hums, his brother finally understanding Tsu’tey’s distress.

“And do you know what she said to me?” Tsu’tey huffs a humorless chuckle, “It is alright. This happens. Which means that it is not the first time I have hurt her like this, without noticing it - without her telling me. I have let her suffer because of my own greed,”

“Are you sure it isn’t just her period?” Jakesully hums, “I mean, she said this happens, right? The Na’vi don’t have them, but humans do. And it’s not as if she’s stopped your mating, right?”

“What is this period you are talking about?” Tsu’tey asks, because no, you haven't stopped their mating before. If anything, you have been overly eager for it.

“It’s uh… well, Y/n could probably explain it better, but each month human females bleed from their… you know,” Jakesully gestures between his legs, as if the word were somehow shameful.

“From the cunt?” Tsu’tey deadpans, watching as Jakesully’s ears flatten and his cheeks darken with heat.

“So crude,” Jakesully sighs before grinning, “But yeah. It's their reproductive organs, their uh… uterus? The womb. Shredding itself to prep-”

“Shredding itself?” Tsu’tey interrupts, his eyes huge as worry overcomes him.

“It’s uh, it’s her body’s way of preparing a new egg to be fertilized so that she can become pregnant - uh with child, after the current egg didn’t take,” Jakesully hastily continues, his discomfort so clear on his face and in his voice.

“So she is laying an egg?” Tsu’tey fills in, feeling bad for not having succeeded in fertilizing the egg you had worked so hard to prepare for him - for them.

“What? Fuck, no,” Jakesully barks, wiping his hands over his face, “Shit… uh, female humans carry a child in their stomachs, in their womb. It’s a… aw hell, I don’t know what it is, alright. There’s an egg, you jizz in her, she might become pregnant and the egg will develop into a child. If she doesn’t become pregnant, the egg will get washed out with the blood before being replaced with a new one.”

“I see,” Tsu’tey hums, but in reality, he does not see anything. Whatever Jakesully is talking about sounds weird and alien to his ears.

“Some women are in really great pain because of it, while others… - brother, where are you going?” Jakesully shouts after him, but all Tsu’tey can focus on is getting to your kelku as fast as possible.

He had left you alone in your kelku while you possibly were in great pain. He had left you there, too caught up in his own shame and emotions to hear you out when you had tried to explain it to him. Passing his people, he takes no care of them as he rushes as fast as his long legs can take him. Eventually, he’s crashing through the doorway of your kelku making you gasp with surprise where you’re preparing a yovo fruit for yourself.

“Yawne,” He pants, entirely out of breath.

“Are you alright, Tsu’tey?” Your worried words greet him as you put the knife down to greet him.

“Am I… Yawne, I did not know,” Tsu’tey falls to his knees before you, pressing his forehead to your stomach as he bends in on himself. Your hands immediately come up to hold him, your tiny hands gently caressing the base of what remains of his kuru, as you hold him close.

“Are you in pain?” He continues after lifting his head when his worries start to soothe, “Is the egg causing you pain?”

“Ah, you’ve talked with Jake I take it?” You hum with a soft chuckle, your beautiful eyes glittering as you look up at him in amusement.

“I have,” Tsu’tey confirms, bending his head down to look at you. “I do not fully understand, Jakesully mentioned that you might be in great pain, and I… Yawne, I left you,”

“It’s alright, yawntu, this is new for you. I would have warned you, but I didn’t expect it to come so soon,” You look down at him with your gentle eyes as if he hung the stars in the sky.

“I thought that I had hurt you,” He mumbles shamefully, “That I had caused you to bleed,”

“So your first cause of action at seeing me bleed would be to run away, got it,” You grinned up at him, teasing him as if this was somehow funny to you.

“Yawne! I…-” He starts, the protest and shame flaring up inside of him. How could he have acted this disgracefully to his mate?

“I’m just kidding, I’m just kidding, Tsu’tey,” You laugh openly as you push his head down into your stomach again, your weak arms holding him close as you chuckle.

“I have disgraced our bond, Y/n,” Tsu’tey starts, his heart breaking in his chest.

“Hey, no, Tsu’tey,” You urge, pushing his head up so that he’s kneeling before you at eye level instead. “Listen to me closely, alright?”

You don’t continue before Tsu’tey reluctantly nods his head, your small hands still on his face, comforting him through what must be a quite distressing time for you.

“Reacting as you did to seeing blood is alright. Especially for someone who has experienced violence as you have,” You pause until Tsu’tey realizes that you’re waiting for him to nod his head in understanding, “We mate with such passion that your conclusion wasn’t farfetched,”

“I do not know this word; farfetched,” Tsu’tey looks into your eyes, reveling in your patience with him.

“It means that it was not a foolish conclusion to come to, that it was within your right to think of it,” You smile again as if he has hung the stars in the sky while your thumbs caress his cheekbones comfortingly. “I’m small compared to you, and you are certainly huge in all aspects of the word,”

Tsu’tey can’t keep his chest from puffing up with pride, no more than he can keep his lips from forming a smug smile. Huffing up at him, your fingers take hold of the base on his ears, making them twitch.

“Behave, yawntu,” You grin up at him, letting him know that it is all in fond fun. “You have never and will never hurt me while mating, Tsu’tey. I don’t know if you’re even capable of doing such a thing,”

You stare up at him while he lets your words sink in, coming to the conclusion that you know best and that Tsu’tey has to trust your judgment. Sighing with the release of his stress and worry, Tsu’tey bends his head down to rest his forehead against yours. It’s comforting the way you’re still holding onto him, grounding him as if you somehow already knew what he needed despite your young bond.

“This period, this blood, can you tell me more about it? I wish to understand it so that I can better help you when it comes,” Tsu’tey hums, opening his eyes to look into yours.

“Of course, yawntu,” You smile beautifully up at him before slowly pulling away.

Taking his hand in yours, you lead him over to your nest, waiting for him to sit down before you bend your small legs to sit between his bigger ones. Taking both of his hands in yours, you look up at him as you start to explain what a period is, chuckling softly at his horrified expressions while explaining about your uterus shredding and how that causes the blood to dribble out. You walk him through everything, about how to contain it, about how you usually manage the pain, and how there are different methods.

“How else may I help you ease the pain, yawne?” Tsu’tey presses on when he notices you’re holding something back.

“It’s uh…” You stutter, your beautiful face darkening with an embarrassment Tsu’tey doesn’t understand. “There’s the act of mating, of - of reaching completion,”

“Mating?” Tsu’tey parrots, his eyes growing huge as his ears rotate forward with undivided attention.

“The act of mating reduces the cramping and reaching completion eases the pain,” You mumble, not able to meet his eyes head-on, “But it’s not something you have to do. I’ve got my heating pads, warm blankets, and excellent pain meds,”

At the mention of medication, Tsu’tey wrinkles his nose with distaste. He had never been fond of the sky people medicine, and to hear that you regularly take them to control a pain he could be helping you with, makes his anger flare. Slicking his ears back with annoyance, Tsu’tey huffs loudly.

“It is no bother for me to mate with you, yawne,” He starts, noting how your cheeks darken even further, “A little blood has never scared me before and it will not start now. Please, let me help you,”

“You really don’t have to, Tsu’tey,” You try again, your embarrassed little face looking up at him full of love and wonder.

“I want to,” Tsu’tey whispers, bending down to rest his forehead to yours again.

“Are you sure, yawntu?” Your eyes portray it all, your uncertainty, your need for him.

“I am, yawne,” Tsu’tey rumbles as he crawls over you, forcing your small body to bend backward to lay back in your nest.

It brings him straight to your hot core, the coppery iron scent strong and warm when he takes a deep breath. He isn’t afraid anymore though. This period had personally insulted him, but now, Tsu’tey would show you what a man truly was. Growling, he plops down on you, the entirety of his weight pressing the air from your small lungs, just how you liked it. The warm heat from your core wraps around Tsu’tey’s lower chest, lulling him to grind his hips into the soft nest beneath your bodies.

“You take my breath away, yawne,” Tsu’tey breathes as he lets the bridge of his nose run up the side of your neck, smirking childishly when it makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“Tsu’tey…” You gasp as he reaches your lips, kissing you long and deep.

The way your small hands clutch at his shoulders to hold on makes something inside of him snap. It’s ridiculous how every touch from you sends him over the edge, breaking the hard-set control he has over himself. You’re simply intoxicating to him. Running his hand down your flank, Tsu’tey lets his fingers flutter over every dip and roll of your soft skin, taking pleasure in the way the contact makes you moan. It never ceased to amaze him just how soft your skin was. The very first time you had allowed him to touch, to feel you, he had lost himself in your body, emerging only when the sun rose once more. His eyes had been blown wide the following day, much to everyone’s amusement.

Now, it was no different. The very scent of you stoked the fire within him, edging him closer to the point of no return, to the point where there was no one but you and him in this life that Eywa had graced them with. Giving you parting butterfly kisses, Tsu’tey dips his head lower, letting his lips trace an incoherent trail until he reaches the top of your chest. He’ll have to part with your thighs around his chest if he is to continue. A part of him doesn’t want to, but the needier part of him claws at his insides for Tsu’tey to present him with the sweetest nectar of your core. It’s the part of him that wins, in the end. Wrapping his hands around your thighs, Tsu’tey gently parts them from around his chest, pushing them back, opening you up like the most precious of flowers.

He’s presented with the same sight as he was that morning, your cunt puffy and red, needy and ready for his ministrations. The blood that slowly comes from your parted lips doesn’t scare him anymore. It’s so… little? Yet, that very morning, it had seemed almost too immense for him to comprehend. Curiously, Tsu’tey runs the pad of his thumb through the red liquid, marveling at the way it colors the blue skin of his thumb. Wiping it away from your entrance, however, only produces more as he forces your lips to part. Smiling to himself, Tsu’tey bends down to kiss the inside of your knees before starting his journey to the core of his desire. He takes a moment to marvel at your own stripes, the silvery, pink, brown, and purple smooth grooves that paint your skin in some places. Never would he have believed sky people worthy of such beauty, but yet again, you had proved him wrong. Your stripes are so different from his own, more like the lightning that crosses over the beautiful Pandora skies. Running his fingers over the stripes on your lower stomach, Tsu’tey marveled at your beauty for a moment before getting to his stomach between your spread thighs.

This close to your cunt, Tsu’tey can see everything. Hears your heart beating frantically in your chest as your blood courses through your veins. Tsu’tey can smell everything. And it makes something wild within him roar to life. His mind zeroes in on one thing and one thing only. Distantly, he registers that you’re talking to him, that your small hands find their way into his braids, but he’s lost in the spell you have over him. Running the pads of his thumbs along the outer lips of your cunt, Tsu’tey is helpless but to lick his lips as your red speckled slick coats his journey. Pressing gently on the silky smooth skin, he watches as your cunt opens up for him, watches as the impossibly small slit stretches the further he pushes.

Repeating the motion, Tsu’tey growls desperately when a fresh dollop of slick emerges from your cunt, the red speckles in it almost beautiful as it slides downward. Unable to hold back anymore, Tsu’tey leans forward, bumping his nose into your swollen pearl as kisses the warm, slick core of your cunt. The sound is almost rudely loud in your otherwise quiet kelku. The slick sticks to his lips in thin strings when he pulls away just far enough to meet your eyes over the swell of your stomach and breasts. Licking his lips, his nostrils flare as the taste hits his tongue, effectively sending his brain into a frenzy. Almost immediately, Tsu’tey dives back in, this time plunging his tongue straight into your core, lapping eagerly at your soft, warm walls. His nose keeps hitting your precious pearl, the hot air from his lungs blowing over it in rapid succession as he dines on a taste he’s never had before.

The taste of your coppery blood combined with the impossibly sweet and heady taste of your natural slick had Tsu’tey all but whining between your thighs, his digits tightening around the plump of your thighs as he held on for dear life. Driving his tongue as far as he’s able to reach inside of you, Tsu’tey breathes heavily as he makes a seal around your cunt, sucking while he licks at your insides. The taste of you explodes on his taste buds with each lick, making him push further and further to get more. He feels almost desperate when your small hands pull hard at his braids, trying your best to lift his head from your molten core.

“T-t..” You stutter, your breath coming harder than his, “T’ey,”

“Yawne,” Tsu’tey answers your call, his voice husky and raw, even to his own ears.

But you’re too far gone. With the little break that you obtained, your head falls back, hitting their nest while you continue to breathe heavily, your small chest lifting and sinking rapidly. It fuels something so primal inside of Tsu’tey that he physically had to clutch onto the bedding to keep himself from pouncing on you. He doubts the stretch would have truly hurt you, had he not been able to hold himself back. The amount of slickness and the plump readiness of your cunt told him as much, but even though you had told him how much you loved the stretch, Tsu’tey was acutely aware of your size difference.

So instead, Tsu’tey eases two digits inside of you, grinning proudly when he meets no resistance, just the slick, plump heat of your hole. Spreading his fingers, Tsu’tey watches as your head bends further back, a moan escaping your gorgeous red-bitten lips as he adds another finger. Like this, you’ve told him, he’s bigger than any human male known to history. It makes his chest puff ridiculously with pride. Add his own cock to the mix and you were a pampered little mate.

“What are you thinking about, yawntu?” You huff a chuckle as you look down at him.

“Nothing, yawne,” Tsu’tey smiles as he leans up to kiss your lips.

Pulling back, there’s red smeared on your face. The realization that he’s wearing you on his own face has his tail whipping painfully behind him with excitement. There’s something so intimate about this, an experience a Na’vi mate could never give him. For a moment, Tsu’tey thanks whatever power Eywa had in changing his mind, whatever made him turn on his opinion and pursue you. Staring down at you, there was no doubt in Tsu’ey’s mind that no atokirina could ever compare to your beauty. Try as she might, the Great Mother could not create anything even comparable to the beauty you held in his eyes. Grinning smugly, Tsu’tey spread your legs even wider with his knees, huffing proudly when your breath hitches.

The way his chest breathes deeply makes his heavy cock glide through the slick of your cunt, your size difference enough for there to be enough motion between you. The sheer heat of your cunt never ceases to amaze him, and try as he might, he’s unable to keep his hips from thrusting, to keep himself from seeking out your tight, slick heat. Pulling back, Tsu’tey meets your eyes as the head of his cock catches on the slick, hot “O” of your cunt. Swallowing audibly, he watches as your body shivers, your cunt spasming, kissing his cock head with an excited greeting. Wetting his lips, Tsu’tey presses forward, feeling his cock crown the tight circle of your cunt before you clench, sending his cock sliding through your slick to end under your navel.

“Tsakem rä'ä si, txopu rä'ä si, yawne,” Tsu’tey growls, his accent heavy, “Do not do that. Do not be scared, yawne,”

“I could never, yawntu,” Lifting your small arms, Tsu’tey bends down for you to grab onto the back of his neck, letting your weak arms press him down into a gentle kiss that touches his very soul.

Leaning his forehead to yours, Tsu’tey tries pushing forward again. The angle is weird like this, making it difficult to line up, but he wants to be close to you, wants to watch the exact moment he breaches your body, just so that he can see your pupils dilate to nothing but black. His cock catches on the ripe, slick circle of your molten core, but this time, when he presses forward, you don’t clench beneath him, denying him access. Instead, your body grows boneless beneath him as you relax, allowing him passage to the innermost sacred place of your body. It’s the easiest, most difficult glide Tsu’tey has had in his entire life. Never before has your body felt like this, clutching onto him as if the very thought of him leaving sent panic through your slick walls.

Groaning, Tsu’tey stills, letting the stretch of his size cement for just a moment before he pulls his hips back, tutting at your distressed whining before he slams into you, this time guided by the slick from his first slide. It fills you up to the limit, the head of his cock hitting that gloriously smooth and plush thing deep inside of you. It caresses the shaft of his cock, just behind his sensitive head while le butts into your wall. Distantly, he knows that he can go no further, but he still tries, pressing until his hips finally meet the plush meat of the crook of your thighs. You’re spread so wide beneath him that for just a moment, he wonders how you haven’t broken yet. Instead, you’re clutching onto him as if your very life depended on it, and when he pushes up on his hands, pressing the full weight of his body on your connection, he can see why.

Beneath your navel, there’s the clear indentation of his own cock beneath your skin. It isn’t the first time Tsu’tey has seen it, but there’s something about it this time that sends him over the edge. Involuntarily, his hips thrust hard, sending your body upward with the sheer force behind it. Your small shoulders meet his wrists, stopping your journey as his cock presses further into you from beneath. It’s a surreal thing to see. One moment, you’re gasping, eyes wide in shock, and the next, there’s something hot spraying from your cunt against his abdomen as your cunt ripples harder around him than ever before while you scream. Your orgasm lasts longer this time, squeezing Tsu’tey’s cock hard as your cunt tries its hardest to milk the juices that it so longs for. But it’s not the orgasm that has Tsu’tey perplexed.

“What was that, yawne?” Tsu’tey asks, his voice unrecognizable to his own ears.

But all you respond with is a series of ‘oh god, oh god, oh god’ while you covered your face from his eyes. Now, Tsu’tey was no fool, he knew your rambled string of words meant that you were in incomprehensible pleasure. It had happened the first time he ate from your core, the first time his fingers had entered your cunt, and especially the very first time his cock had stretched you around his size. So with that knowledge, Tsu’tey set out to get the same reaction again, if only for his own pleasure at seeing it.

With the same eye for detail, Tsu’tey repeats his motions, pulling back before entering you halfway once again. It sends your head back with a long wet moan, your puffy lips parted as you grab a hold of his wrists, preparing yourself for what you so obviously have anticipated to come. Grinning, Tsu’tey slams into you a little harder than he had meant to, but it’s all the same to you. Your loud moans fill your kelku as Tsu’tey presses further, testing the limit. It doesn’t happen immediately, like the first time, but Tsu’tey isn’t deterred. He is a man on a mission, a mission he is hellbent to succeed. And sure enough, after a while, your mouth starts forming that series of ‘no no no no no’ that always comes before something mesmerizing. It spurs Tsu’tey on, his mind chasing that burst of excitement, so pure, from your body’s core.

Thrusting faster, harder, Tsu’tey is not disappointed when he looks down just in time to see that same clear spray emerge from your core, coating his abdomen not just once as before, not twice, but four times. In time with your cunt contracting around him, Tsu’tey was helpless but to give into your core’s demand. With a final thrust, he sheats himself as deep as he’s able to while his body pumps you full of his seed. He’s breathing hard as he lays down on top of you, holding you captive beneath him while you breathe.

“You are,” Tsu’tey pants, taking deep breaths before continuing, “Amazing, yawne,”

Kissing your forehead, your cheeks, your gasping lips, Tsu’tey takes pity on you for a second, balancing most of his weight on his elbows, only for you to whine in annoyance. Huffing a chuckle, Tsu’tey slides down carefully once more, watching you closely as his full weight is on you again. Never would he have imagined his weight to be such a comfort to you, but as you hide your face between his pecs, Tsu’tey is left to drift on the sensation of your combined bodies while you land. He doesn’t know how long it takes, but by the time you emerge from his chest, the chill of the setting sun has started to creep into your dark kelku.

“Welcome back to Pandora, yawne,” Tsu’tey teases, only for you to clench your cunt around his sensitive cock, making him hiss.

“You are a cruel man, yawntu,” You huff, but the poorly hidden amused smile lets him know that your words have no bite to them.

“I am,” Tsu’tey agrees, grinning widely as he kisses your lips. “What does that make you, ma muntxate?”

“An innocent bystander?” You try, your sheepish grin mesmerizing Tsu’tey’s heart.

“You, ma yawne,” Tsu’tey starts, leaning down to hover over your lips, “Have never been innocent a day in your life,”

It brings the most beautiful laughter from your lips, a laughter that doesn’t immediately die down, but instead continues on until it gradually fizzles out. At this moment, Tsu’tey wishes that he could make tsaheylu with you, that he could show you the love that blossoms in his heart, a love that is so strong he’s not certain he could stay true to Eywa if challenged. But you do not have a kuru and he… he does not have his kuru anymore. Still, with everything that you are, you try your best to fill the gap he’s missing, letting him know how much he’s loved without actually having said the words before.

“I love you, Tsu’tey,” Because, of course, you would read him so easily. The notion is no less meaningless to Tsu’tey’s ears though.

“I love you, yawne,” He hums, kissing your lips slowly before hovering above them again, catching your eyes in his, “I have for a very long time,”

It’s an intimate moment, one heavy with emotions, with trust, and honor. You’re both from different worlds, but somehow, together, you have made it work, supporting each other with everything that you were. Tsu’tey knows that there will be nothing in this life or the next that can keep him apart from you. Beneath him, you reach a hand out to brush two of his braids beneath his ear, your small fingers gently rubbing his ear on your way back. Smiling, Tsu’tey gets up to his knees, watching his cock move inside of your small cunt. Pulling out, he watches as your red-speckled slick and his luminescent seed stick to his cock. There’s a mixed string connecting the head of his cock to the puffy mouth of your cunt for a moment before it breaks in the chill evening air. A moment later, however, his seed runs out of your wide-stretched, red hole. It’s beautiful.

Leaning forward, Tsu’tey attaches his mouth to your open cunt once more, sucking his seed and your slick from your abused and tired hole. If possible, your cunt is even hotter, even softer than before as he digs his tongue inside, slurping loudly even to his own ears. The plush of your thighs has collapsed shut on each side of his head, your cute weakness trying to push his head away, but Tsu’tey will drink his fill of you. Not even your gasped whines from above stop him in his ministrations before, as you desperately ramble, something sweet hits his tongue and face once, twice before your thighs fall dead from his head.

It takes him a moment to realize what has happened, but when he does, his cock twitches with interest. You, however, lay completely boneless above him, your breathing coming hard and fast, your eyes closed. Taking pity on you, Tsu’tey licks his lips before gathering you up in his arms. A bath would do you both good before some food and sleep. In the morning, Tsu’tey would quench his thirst for knowledge and you would let him, one way or the other. Grabbing a blanket, Tsu’tey wraps it around you, covering your modesty as he learned the hard way how sky people valued that sort of thing. Walking out of your kelku, Tsu’tey headed toward the river.

“Brother,” Jakesully shouted from the entrance of the communal meal, “Dinner was served a while ago,”

“We will eat at home, Jakesully,” Tsu’tey turns to his… friend, only for the man in question to holler loudly.

“Yo, Tsu’tey got his wings, alright!” Jakesully announces loudly, pulling the curious stares of Atan and Takuk.

Tsu’tey pays them no mind, however, as he continues his walk down to the river. He has a mate to take care of, one who brings him such joy he hardly believed he was still alive some days. To know that you felt the same as he - Tsu’tey could ask nothing more of the Great Mother.

That pesky egg of yours, however…

#Please read the tag warings!#tsu'tey x human reader #tsu'tey x h!reader #tsutey x human reader #tsutey x h!reader #na'vi x human reader #na'vi x human #na'vi x reader #tsu'tey #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #avatar x human reader #avatar 2009 #avatar 2009 x reader #mech writes #Reypaytun #tsu'tey x reader #tsutey x reader

1K notes · View notes