#i worry my writing is too incoherent sometimes :(

[spiteful-lvsts]

•And I’m The Perfect Sacrifice•

• Final Guy!Reader x Slasher!Dottore

• AMAB Top!Reader x Bottom!Dottore

• Summary: In a turn of events, you find your cabin trip ambushed by a masked killer, and you remain as the final survivor.

• Warnings/Content: modern/college au?, dottore is referred to as zandik, mentioned violence and deaths, unsanitary (blood as lube), wound fingering, slight orgasm denial, slight dacryphilia, body worship, both reader and dotts are kinda deranged, porn with feelings?, hurt/comfort?, masochist!dottore

• Notes: whoops too many dottie drafts, this is partially inspired by final girl by graveyardguy, technically webttore? i think his mask would fit more than the bird one

The killer is pinned beneath you, held down by your weight, arms restrained above his head. The stench of iron is prevalent, a reminder of what happened, of the corpses that lay just inside the room. You could kill him now, injured as he was from your earlier scuffle.

And yet, you can’t. You won’t.

Because you knew him. Knew his face, despite the mask, despite of the blood and viscera painting him now. And oh, how you’ve missed him, that some part of you ached to devour him whole.

“Zandik,” you softly murmur, “Oh Zandik, where have you been?” He’d been missing for months, since his home burned down. Only to show up now.

He squirmed underneath you, a halfhearted escape attempt at best. “Don’t act like you suddenly fucking care again,” Zandik grit out, red eyes flickering between you and the window. “You didn’t look for me.”

Frowning, you reached up, fingertips skimming the edge of his mask, feeling him flinch. “...Not by choice.” You only say, like it’s a quiet, mournful thing.

There’s no rebuttal from him, so you continue. “Then, won’t you at least let me see your face? It’s been so long,” your fingers trace the leather straps connecting the mask, “I’ve missed you, Zandik.”

“...You won’t like what you’ll see,” He protests weakly, but it’s not a direct refusal. “I’ve changed, I’m not the same person you knew before.”

“I loved you then, I love you even now.” Your voice is soft, reverent even. And Zandik trembles at your admission, averting his gaze. This wasn’t supposed to have happened. It was supposed to be just simple, petty revenge, for what happened to him at the Akademiya.

And yet, you were an outlier. As you always were. He didn’t expect you to be here, of all places, and a part of him seethed when he first saw you tonight. Thinking you had replaced him, so easily, so quickly.

A warm touch breaks him out of his reverie, your hand gentle upon his face, as you waited for him to answer. Ironically, Zandik can’t find it in him to truly hate you, not when you’re like this. Still covered in drying blood, eyes full of worry for him, despite knowing what he did.

So he answers you, not verbally, still he twists his neck and head to bare you his throat. The metal clasps gleam in the moonlight. An implicit invitation.

Two sharp clicks echo in the room, barely undercutting the tension. Zandik can’t bare to look at you as you discard his mask, eyes and hands clenched shut as he awaited your judgement. Something sour in him curdles at the thought of being rejected by you, he’d never been one for other’s opinions, but when it was you...

Instead your warmth remains, letting him lean into your touch. Eyes fluttering open to meet yours, “There you are,” your hands cup his face, thumb brushing over still-tender scar tissue, and he has to suppress a whine at its sensitivity. You were always so damnably gentle to him.

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper again, earnest as you always were. Even now, even splattered in blood and gore, what remained of the rest. Zandik realizes then, that even if the world shuns him, condemns him a sinner, that he loves you.

“...I’ve missed you too.” His voice is quiet, smaller than he’s ever been. Suspended in this fragile tension, he can’t help relaxing just the smallest bit in your presence. No longer restrained, he was sure if he ran, you’d let him. Though some small part of him wanted you to follow him.

In the (almost) comfortable silence, his gaze slides over to the corpse in the room. Their eyes clouded over, frozen in fear during their last moments. In truth, whoever they were didn’t matter, what mattered was that they had to suffer for what they did to him.

Why did they get to live, unmarred by the consequences of their actions. Going about their days as if they weren’t as bad as he was. Zandik’s hand twitched, thoughts spiraling as rage threatened to bubble over. You were part of this trip, weren’t you? Were you going to betray hurt him, as they did?

He wants to— needs to ask, were you still lying to him? He wants to believe you, he really did, but some traitorous part of him still doubts your sincerity. “Why were you here in the first place?”

A dark expression flashed by your face, yet as quickly as it came, it was gone. “Same reason as you, I’d think.” You smile, sharp and dangerous, with a hint of teeth. And Zandik swallows, throat bobbing as heat pools in his gut. Anger dissipating at your statement.

Between the two of you, you had always been the kinder of pair. But oh, Zandik was quickly finding out how much he enjoyed this more... dangerous, side of yours. He can’t help the flush crawling up his neck, across his face to the tips of his ears.

Against all rational thought, Zandik finds himself grabbing the front of your shirt, pulling you closer to him. Your lips come together clumsily, messily, the taste of iron shared between you as his sharp teeth clips your lip. Zandik relishes the noise of surprise you make, even as you wrench control from him, drawing a whine from him as your tongue traces the inside of his mouth.

When you pull back, he’s panting, dazed and breathless. “Please,” Zandik breathes out, already half-hard as you gazed at him through half-lidded eyes. Hands gripping your shirt tighter, unsure what to do with himself.

You blink, slow and languid, “Here? Now?” Your voice is quiet, but it leaves him trembling as he nodded. The ache to devour him is back, laid beneath you as he is now, and you can’t deny how much you wanted Zandik as well.

Your clothes were almost an afterthought, torn off of each other in the throes of passion. Though, in all honesty they were probably unsalvageable, from your previous altercation and all.

The low light obscured many things, but here, exposed only to you, Zandik was the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. Scars and all, as your fingers trace the burns covering his body. Perhaps sometime later, you could really take the time to appreciate all of him, this desolate cabin hardly seemed appropriate for the task.

A shock of pain shoots through him when your fingers accidentally dig against the gouges in his side, reopening the wounds. Something electric sparks through Zandik as his mouth falls open in a startled moan. Maybe it was from delirium, or blood loss, or both, but his cock throbs at the feeling.

Startling at the noise, you almost began to ask if he was okay. Only to be cut off, “Do that again.” He orders, and he sounds... not hurt, or mad, more curious than anything. It’s not like you didn’t notice the effect it had on him either, with how hard he was pressed against you.

So you comply, not that you could’ve denied him anything, and oh, how lovely he looked as his spine arched. Hips twitching in search for friction. Your name, a bitten off whimper- a plea on Zandik’s lips as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

His blood coats your fingers, warm and wet, he doesn’t ask for you to stop, even as your nails dig into him. You swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth, briefly tucking your face against his neck, you could hear Zandik’s heart hammering in his chest.

“D’you think you could cum from this?” You murmur, more of a joke than anything but at they way he whined, well, maybe you weren’t too far off.

When you pull your fingers from the wounds, it was almost cute how he glared at you, whatever impact it would’ve had was lessened from the beading tears and the flush across his face. “I didn’t tell you to stop—” he begins to complain, after all, he’d been so close before you stopped. But quieting when you press a kiss to his lips, unbearably soft in comparison.

Your bloodied hand trails down his body, leaving a streak of red, stopping when your fingers just barely tease his hole. “Wouldn’t you prefer to cum from this instead?” You ask, and Zandik shivers from your tone, eyes flickering to your neglected member, precum smeared against his thigh. Blood wouldn’t be nearly enough to ease the burn, but something in him craves it.

“Please,” his voice cracks, and the sheer want in his voice makes the heat in your gut intensify, “Make me yours, need them all to know you’re mine.”

The stretch burns, blood-slick on your fingers barely soothing it. Regardless of the pain, Zandik relishes in it, a choked moan making its way out of his throat when your fingers crook in just the right way for him to see stars. You work him open with a tender patience, in contrast to his own impatience, rocking his hips down into your hand.

Pain and pleasure mix into something intoxication, his mind growing muddled from the ministrations of your fingers, and the sweet nothings whispered to him. Still you remain an infuriating tease, despite the tenderness. Just barely brushing against his prostate with each movement of your fingers, not quite enough for him, but just enough to leave him yearning for more.

His dick was hard and useless, leaking pre onto his abdomen at each movement. “Hngh-! Would you j-just get on with it alreaDY—!!” Zandik’s complaint turns into a shriek at a particularly harsh jab from you, his walls clamping around your fingers at the rough treatment.

You rub soothing circles into his uninjured side, murmuring sweet nothings to him, even as your hand doesn’t stop moving. “Mm, I promise I’ll make you feel good soon. You can hold out for me a little longer, can’t you darling?”

And you sound about as earnest as you always were. Even with that playful lilt in your voice, even as you looked down at him with an expression full of love and lust.

All Zandik can do is let it happen, head lolling back as he surrenders to your whims. All too aware of your ministrations, the kisses peppered against his skin. The promise of something more the only thing keeping him from losing his mind fully.

Logically only a few minutes at most would’ve passed, but with how high-strung he was, it felt like hours to him. When you finally pull out your fingers, it was almost a relief. But it left him so achingly empty.

All his thoughts had faded into a pleasant buzz while you toyed with him, only to be brought back into focus at the feeling of your cockhead prodding at his entrance. At some point Zandik found himself wrapping his legs around your waist, an attempt to drag you closer into him, to fill that aching emptiness. His own arms winded around your shoulders, nails digging into your back as he anticipated what was to come.

It hurts when you finally push in, no amount of preparation could’ve prepared him for it, even with the aid of his own blood. Still he can’t help but crave more of it, rocking his hips against yours, urging you deeper. “Hah-! Mngh-” his breathing comes out short and uneven, already drooling from just this, “T-too mu-aH-!” His body jerks when your hand suddenly wraps around his length, blood and pre mixing, leaving caught between two points of pleasure.

You kiss away the tears falling down his face, letting him whine and gasp as you trailed kisses down his jawbone, to his neck and collar. “You’re doing so well for me...” you murmured against him, mouthing along his skin, hand slowly pumping his dick in tandem with your movements.

Zandik keens when you bottom out, your hips flush against his ass, your cock a searing heat inside him. Through the tears gathering at his lash line, he could see how well you filled him out, how his stomach bulged from your size.

Perhaps some other time you two could be gentle with each other, to be as lovers were, but tonight there was only an animal need for more. Case-in-point, the way Zandik squirmed impatiently, whining cutely for you to move already, sharp teeth worrying his bottom lip.

It’s not as if you were unaffected either. The way his walls fluttered around you, all warm and tight. Squeezing just the slightest tighter whenever you nipped at his skin.

Regardless, who were you to deny him? With how pretty he was under you, oh he was gorgeous objectively and to you, but the image of Zandik all flushed and teary eyed? You just wanted to ruin him.

The drag is a painful, pleasurable burn as you pulled out. Tip just barely remaining inside him, before you snapped your hips forward, drawing out a choked off scream from him. Eyes rolling back and body spasming, mouth falling open into an ‘o’.

Angry red lines bloom across your back, Zandik’s hips bucking in response to your ruthless pace, sobbing with every well-placed thrust against his abused prostate. You only pull him closer to you, fucking deeper into him, nails digging into the gash in his side as you gripped his waist. The pain shooting straight to his dick and the part of his brain that left him pleading for ‘Gngh! More- moremoremorepLEASE-!’

He’s half delirious from blood loss and arousal, only able to focus on how full he was, drool dribbling down the side of his mouth. Obscene noises echo throughout the room, the sounds of your groaning and Zandik’s whines intermingling. Your own noises were muffled against his body, teeth itching to bite down, whatever remaining self-control you still had waning.

You’ve said it before but god, you loved him, and what was love to you but a desire to consume? And Zandik was baring his neck to you, oh so lovingly.

Your teeth close around the junction between his neck and his shoulder, relishing the way he wailed, how his nails dug painfully into your back. The taste of iron fills your mouth as skin splits under your incisors, sweeter than any honey.

It was just too much for him, the feeling of your hand on him, the shock of pain flooding his system, just you you youyouyou-!

His climax hits him unexpectedly, vision briefly whiting out from the intensity. Hips bucking as he came, ropes of white cum splattering across his abdomen and between your fingers. Your thrusts don’t stop, and neither does your hand, intent on milking him dry.

Zandik sobs through his orgasm, thighs trembling even as they weakly tightened around your waist, fat tears following down his face. Barely registering your tongue laving across the bite, an apology of sorts, not that he minded it. His dick twitches in your hand, painfully sensitive to your touch.

You weren’t far from your own climax either, pace growing erratic inside him, his walls a vice around your throbbing cock. All you could think about was how good he felt. Your hands move to grip his waist, hold practically bruising as you rutted into him, a familiar heat pooling in your gut.

A couple more thrusts before your hips stutter to a stop, flush against Zandik’s body. He moans at the warmth filling him, spreading through him, as you came inside of him. You practically collapse on top of him at the end, the both of you sweaty and gross, but satisfied nonetheless.

When you try to pull out, he shakes his head, tugging you closer. “N-not yet,” he slurs, “Wanna keep you inside, don’t wanna go yet-” babbling something incoherent as his arms wrap around you again.

How cute, you press a kiss against the side of his mouth, sweet and tender. “Alright, ‘m not going anywhere,” you murmur, voice low, making him shiver, “I’m not leaving you again.” You capture his lips again, and he opens his mouth obediently, whimpers muffled against your mouth.

Zandik can taste blood on your lips and tongue, his blood, and he can’t help himself feeling warm all over again. Dazed as he was, he can’t help grinning maniacally against you.

In the morning, or maybe just later, you two would have enough to talk about. Plans to run away, cleaning up any evidence of yourselves from the cabin, packing up your belongings, the works. But for now, you two can just indulge in a moment of intimate quiet with each other.

Perhaps in a week, or maybe more than that, the authorities would be called regarding a missing persons case, students of a prestigious university. The case will go cold, from lack of evidence, and it’ll become its own local legend. How a party of students died mysteriously one night, no trace of another person or anything of that sort, despite obvious foul play.

Some would wonder how it led to the incident, after all the cabin was well maintained, despite its remoteness. It was unlikely for its utilities to break. As far as anyone knew, none of the students tried to call for help that night, or even tried to leave. Theories are made, yet no answers are to be found.

But ah... if the phone lines were cut even before the killer was there, or if the car driven into the woods had its tires slashed in the dead of night? If the doors were conveniently unlocked?

Well, that’s between you and Dottore.

[beeing1alive]

tokyo rev characters with s/o who sleep talks

Note: thank you so much for the fantastic idea :)

Would be shocked the first time because you suddenly started talking nonsense in the middle of the night. Will speak to you in the morning like: Beby…Why did you talk to me in the middle of the night tonight?? You'll have to explain to him that you're talking in your sleep and he's just sitting there slowly understanding what you mean. It doesn't bother him now that he knows everything is fine with you and he doesn't have to worry.

Souya, Hakkai, Takemichi, Takuya, Chifuyu

Listens to you all night, even though he knows you only talk in your sleep. He just fell for your voice, he doesn't care if you're asleep or not. He also doesn't care what incoherent shit you say, he's super happy. He'll probably fall asleep at some point in the morning, relaxed and satisfied by your voice. Will still point it out to you in the morning, just out of respect, but will say straight away that he really enjoyed it. Now looks forward to hearing your beautiful voice every day, even at night when he falls asleep.

Draken, Mitsuya, Inupi, Kakucho, Rindou, Koko, Baji, Taiju, Naoto

Stays up all night talking to you. He knows that you won't remember the conversation in the morning, but he doesn't care. He just finds it too exciting and relaxing at the same time. Sometimes you even answer when he asks you questions, for some reason it's strangely relaxing for him to hear from your deep subconscious that you love him.

Izana, Mikey, Ran, Kazutora, Nahoya

I also wrote other scenarios for them and other characters, so here is my masterlist if you want to check it out <3

My request are open, so if you want to request something, just feel free to leave a comment or send me an request, love you all, have a nice day/night :3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[callooopie]

Modern!Davos Blackwood headcannons (pt. Smut)

— NSFW edition—

It can’t be unlearned. I’ve known the warmth of your doorways — It Will Come Back // Hozier

I haven’t written NSFW in a bit ~3~. Bear with me while I try not to blush and cringe at my own writing T~T (also that new episode.. rip MY queen Rhaenys dude. It actually made me so bummed it ruined my night.) Also do I still use the Benjicot tags or is he now his own character now that he’s been mentioned finally ~3~ ?!

cw— NSFW, smut detailed to the best of my abilities. Minors do not interact. Interact with this and I’ll punch you so hard your ancestors will feel it I’ll-

< added one (1) new headcannon since posting >

Cool, calm, confident. That’s what Davos was. Surely it would translate to the bedroom too—it does not. He’s shy the first time around. Very much. Silent, rigid; his eyes simply darting up and down your body as you undress in front of him. The only sign that he’s there in the head is his hands gripping the comforter in his fists tightly. Before you begin, please give him a few kisses and reassuring smiles. Sitting in his lap and doing so does wonders. Run your fingers through his hair in a calming manner too.

You might have to pause, because he’s genuinely trembling out of excitement and anticipation that he cannot concentrate or continue without calming down. He just loves your touch! Any touch, all touch. Your fingers grazing against his skin, it’s like nicotine. Press your nose against his, laugh softly and kindly against his lips, and tell him it’s alright—you can wait a minute. His hands (shaking slightly still) will find their way to your hips soon enough.

Before you two experience each other more often. Before ANY sexual encounters, with you or not with you. He is the type of guy… to not know where the clit is. It’s a sad truth. You have to sit him down and literally point to where it is. No pants, sitting on the bed with your legs spread. It’s not even sexual at this point, you’re just letting him ooo and ahh at your pussy as you tell him what feels good and how to make it feel good. A lesson in anatomy that has him going (“…really?!”). Don’t worry. He gets with the program right away. When he figures shit out you won’t ever let him leave the house ever again.

If he’s already on the more experienced side and/or after you’ve both gotten comfortable with one another after months or a couple years; he is a fiend, a menace. He wants his sheets drenched by the time you’re both done. He wants you passed out, unconscious. If you aren’t being carted off to the emergency room after sex he feels he isn’t doing it right.

Speaking of.. He has sent you to the ER before. A bruised cervix that sent searing pain whenever you walked, burning aches in your muscles and bones from being bent or pulled around that. It’s something that’s never happened before and worried you enough to make Davos drive you to the urgent care. Embarrassment and a hint of disbelief burned on your face as the doctor awkwardly told you your diagnoses, splitting their gaze between you and Davos. The latter had the biggest grin on his face as he sat there like an innocent man. His apologies are a farce don’t believe it.

Needs you to sit on his face. Dude gets off on eating you like you’re his last meal, and makes it messy too.. Doesn’t matter when (or where..) but if you are not straddling his head, laying her full weight onto him—that’s basically like breaking his heart. He wants to die by your thighs that’s his goal. He is the type to grab and scratch at your thighs, squeezing flesh as he tries to pull you closer to his lips and tongue. Sometimes his hand leaves your thigh to deal with his own hardened cock—muffled and incoherent whines leaving him as he devours you sloppily and breathlessly. If he’s eating you out while you’re laying on your back; he will be pathetically grinding against the mattress.

Suck him off under his desk. Quietly slip underneath the wooden desk, he’s too focused on whatever he’s doing to even notice you undoing the string of his sweats anyways. Once he dies in-game and looks down he gets the memo, silently helping you slide them off of him as he talks to his team. Whatever you do, do not drag your tongue up from his base to his tip—especially when he’s comming to his teammates. He’ll be talking normally and then let out a nearly pornographic whine. If you choose to not be a menace off the bat and simply slide his cock in and out of your mouth; he’ll go blank in the head. He starts to mess up, mouth going slack as he splits his attention between the game and you on your knees between his legs with your tongue wrapping around his tip and licking off whatever leaking pre-cum you find. It’s the fastest he’s ever won (or lost) a game.

It’s edge or be edged in his world. Loves it when you tell him he can’t cum. A sloppy half-grin plastered on his face as you ride him. His hands holding your hips as he sits up, looking up at you from where he places his head by your chin. He’s gonna bitch and moan about it as usual, but slowly devolves into loud begging. His speech is slurred as his eyes stare up at you like your god who has the power to grant him that divine release he’s been denied for an hour.

He loves fucking you against the wall. It gives him a reason to show off his arms and muscles—and it feels good. If you have comments about your weight, your body, how will he hold you up, etc. Leave ‘em at the door, Davos does not care. He goes to the gym for this reason baby! To be able to lift you easily and hold you against the apartment wall as he pounds into you. His hands digging into the skin of where your thighs and ass meet. Wrap your legs around his waist, tangle your fingers into his hair. You’re not leaving until there’s a puddle of your arousal and cum underneath you.

Switch. He’s a switch. Let the world (and himself) believes he’s a top, only you will know the truth. And the truth is that he loves when you take control. Tie him up, slap him around, ride him till he’s crying and drooling from either edging or overstimulation—and then keep going some more. But also remember that he can easily overpower you, pinning you down to the bed or against a wall as he thrusts in and out of you with loud groans and words of praise. His hand holds your head down as he fucks you from behind, fingers grasping onto your hair as he rambles in a pleasured high. Davos is the type to tear underwear too, so be careful about that as well..

Davos is gentle, Davos is rough. No matter what, he’s mean about it. And he’s very vocal about it too. He’ll ask if you’re enjoying yourself, if you’re liking how rough he’s fucking your cunt right now—speaking of.. can you hear how wet you are right now, it’s almost embarrassing no? Ohhh, you like being used by him? Well.. he likes your sloppy pussy too—don’t worry. Made just for him, all for him. If he’s gentle he asks if you’re doing okay between the soft kisses he places on your neck and face. His face will nuzzle against your neck, soft whispers of how you feel entering your ear between groans. You’re just a sweetheart after all, aren’t you? So soft, so good, just for him. He likes how you feel around him, how soft your skin feels under his hands. So beautiful, so cute. Don’t you like how you can feel all of him as he thrusts into you slowly? Can you feel every vein and ridge? ‘Cause he can feel every squeeze and shudder from your walls darling.

Biter. I’ve got him pinned—Davos is a biter. Bites at your nipples before swirling a tongue around them and sucking harshly. Licks your ear before biting and tugging on it. He’s a bastard and bites your clit, a low chuckle coming from him as you yelp (he kisses it after, of course). Hickeys line your skin from your neck to your lower abdomen. Bite marks, prominent bite marks, are scattered across your body. No matter what, it’ll be on your neck mostly as well. From the front or the back, a bite mark will find its way to your neck. He just gets so into it! Dicking you down so roughly he just needs to latch his teeth onto your skin hard enough to draw blood. What? No he did not lick the droplet of blood up you must be imagining—

…car sex—I’m sorry I said it. At night when you both are skating or if he’s driving around with you. Sometimes you just end up in an empty parking lot.. the windows are fogged up and there’s music playing faintly, not that you care or really hear it as you listen to his moans. His hands holding your hips or waist as you slowly bounce on his cock while he sits in the driver seat. Bonus if you hold the thin necklace he wears between your teeth as you grind yourself down onto him.

Added! HE’S INTO SHOTGUNNING. Absolutely, how did I forget such a thing. Happens when you’re riding him. It’s a lazy night; him sitting in a chair, a cigarette between his fingers as you moan and whimper loudly. His other hand remains on your ass, guiding you up and down as he lets his head fall back briefly with a low grunt from his throat. He sits back up to take a drag from the cigarette, his other hand moving up from your ass to the back of your head (he gives you a parting slap to your butt). He presses your face closer to his and you instinctively part your lips, letting him blow smoke into it. He does talk you through that like he’s talking you through your orgasm, soft words of encouragement and guidance as he watches you blow it back out. It ends in him kissing you and wrapping one arm tightly around your waist as he starts to thrust up into you roughly. “In.. and out.. atta girl. There we are. Aren’t you just a good listener, my lovely lady?”

[magics-neptunes-things]

Cheetah

Hello everyone!

So for once this isn't a request, but more something who was walking in my head rent free and I just had to write it.

I don't know a lot about motorcycle to be honest but i made some research, so if there is some incoherence, I'm sorry!

Also I start to translate the English in Spanish before stopping, because in the end almost everyone is supposed to talk in Spanish and I'm really bad at it (I only can command something to eat and drink).

Please let me know what you think about it and enjoy ♥

TW : Moto accident, Angst, Injuries and a little bit of autodestruction maybe.

“Come on Cheetah, everyone’s waiting for you!”

You sigh softly, putting the picture you were looking at in your bag. It’s a picture of your ex-girlfriend and yourself, during your happy days. It’s been three months since the breakup and you are still mourning the end of your relationship like if it was the first hours. You still feel numb and if like someone is constantly crushing your heart in their iron grip. It’s not getting better, and it probably never will. Ona was, is, the love of your life and it’s just impossible for you to recover from it.

Falling for Ona was easy. You met her when you were both 20, even if you come from Palma de Mallorca and not Barcelona. You are a athlete too, so it wasn’t hard to cross her path at one of the Spanish awards. Patri Guijarro was there too and like you she comes from Mallorca, so she introduced you both and the rest is history.

When Ona moved to Manchester, you follow her. You find a team to train your motorcycle and your skills there. You were still young but promising on the circuit and you didn’t have trouble the find someone to help you getting better. And better you get. Just like Ona in Manchester United, you easily improve your skills and became one of the best in the world. Sure, you were sometimes away from home and Ona for your competitions, but everything was perfect.

When Ona came back to Barcelona, you flow back with her too. Some of your team came with you, some other didn’t but you can’t hold it against them. You find people to replace them and continue to race on the top of the leader boards.

The breakup didn’t come from nowhere, you can’t say that. You knew how much Ona was worried when you race, scared that you hurt yourself. You never had a big injury until now. But just after Christmas, you were implicated in an accident and Ona had trouble to concentrate in something else than that since that day.

It wasn’t your fault honestly; you just weren’t able to avoid the motorcycles already lying on the road. So, you made a gliding flight and had a concussion and a dislocated shoulder, nothing too serious. But Ona was in Barcelona while you were in Qatar, and it took almost two hours for you to be able to call her, even if you make everything possible to have your phone back.

That’s what pushed Ona to break up with you.

“I can’t keep focusing on your future death while I’m in training or supposed to be concentrated on something important, Y/N/N. I’m so sorry.” was what she told you.

Can you blame her? No. Did she told you it was because she doesn’t love you anymore? No. Did you try everything to make her change her mind? Yes. You even told her that you will stop your sport. But she’s not with you anymore and it hurt like hell.

“Hi Cheetah!” make one of your opponent when you arrive in the garage, where the motorcycles are stored.

“Hola” you mumble back.

Cheetah is your nickname, because of your speed and the feline way you stand on your bike. But it’s especially Ona’s favorite animal. You wonder if she’s still looking at your race sometimes. Probably not. You never asked Patri who became your friend with the years, the girl never talked about your breakup either. You like it that way.

One hour after, you are on your bike, ready to start your race. Your helmet is a notch off from what security recommends, but you prefer to wear it like that. Ona had forbidden you to do so and you had accepted her request without flinching. But Ona isn’t here anymore, and you have no one to care about.

Well, your brother who is in your team maybe. And probably your parents, but even if you love them, they aren’t Ona.

The qualifying rounds put you in fourth place at the start, but after a daring overtaking you manage to get gain the third place. The weather is great honestly, a little bit sunny maybe but it’s better than the rain. You are in Italy after all.

The fight for the second place is hard, your opponent always manages to stand in your way to keep you from reaching it. It starts to frustrate you, even if your team keeps telling you in the helmet to take no risks. You don’t listen to them, still being careful not to make faults though, you don’t want to have any penalty against you.

“Lenta, hermanita por favor!” (Slower, my little sister please!)

You hear your brother’s voice but don’t listen to him either. He will probably kill you for it after the race , but if you manage to get the second place, it’s worth it right? Winning is the only thing that you have left. The only thing that makes you feel a little alive.

That’s why you don’t hesitate to take other risks to get the second place. Plot twist, you shouldn’t have.

It’s the first time since you’re a teenager that you lose the control of your motorcycle, but it’s a strange feeling. You feel yourself flying and the helmet getting ripped off your head during the crash. After that it’s all black, you just have little moments of consciousness from time to time.

“No no no no no! ¡ Y/N No me hagas esto! Respira por favor!” (Don’t do that! Breath please!”)

That’s your brother voice. You don’t know where you are, you hear people screaming and probably running next to you. But you are too tired. Falling asleep now probably will help you feel better, right?

“Sigue luchando. Piensa en Ona." (Keep fighting. Think about Ona.)

Ona? You think about her every single second of the day. You are surprised by this statement, but it has the advantage to wake you up a little. Your brother usually never mention your ex-girlfriend, knowing how much the breakup is destroying you.

“Alright we take her to the ambulance, now!”

If you were able, you probably would have rolled your eyes because of the strength that this man screamed with. You are not even able to open your eyes though, and you hate the way you feel your body not responding to what you want. But your head hurt and soon you are asleep again.

The next time you are awake, it was way quiet. You hear your parents and your brother, but you have to make a big effort to understand what they are saying.

“She called her name several times in the ambulance, but she’s asleep since”

Well, that’s embarrassing. It’s useless to wonder which name you called, there only is one woman in your head after all.

“Did you call her?”

Your mother.

“No. Y/N would have probably hated me if I did.”

Is he right? Maybe. You’ll think about it later.

“She has the right to know how Y/N is.”

Point for your father.

“I’ll call Patri instead.”

Well, it’s probably better that way. Patri is one of your best friends and if Ona wants to have news of you, she will ask Patri. But once again, she probably has no interest about your health anymore.

You fall back asleep again soon after that.

Patri’s face is white when she reaches the gym of FC Barcelona Femeni. It’s not Ona who realized it first, your ex-girlfriend is focused on her exercises next to Mariona.

“Patri you alright?” Pina asks, looking at her friend with worry.

Everyone raises their gaze on the girl, but she’s only looking at Ona. And Ona knows, right there. She gulps and stand up, her hand shaking.

“What happened?” Ona asks quietly.

But Patri takes her by the hand to take her out. She doesn’t want to explain to Ona what happened in front of the others. She doesn’t know how the younger one will react at the news, and she’s scared of her reaction to be honest. Every single person in the team know how much Ona is sad about your breakup, even if she’s the one who chose to have it that way.

“Y/N had an accident during the race” Patri starts, looking at Ona with attention. “I don’t know what her injuries are or anything else. But she has that awful crash, and they came with the ambulance and those kinds of white curtains.”

Ona knows what the curtains are for. It’s to protect the dignity of the runner in the case of a serious injury… or worse. Very worse. Her face passes from white to green.

“Is there a video from the crash?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to…”

But Ona doesn’t listen. Like you, she’s stubborn. She wants to know. She needs to know. She doesn’t know when the accident happened, but the video of it is easy to find on social media. She doesn’t react at all during several seconds and Patri wondered if Ona’s mind crashed, too.

“She loosened her helmet” Ona whispers at first.

“What?” Patri frowned.

“She loosened her helmet! She loosened her helmet and now she’s probably dead!”

Ona’s shouting and Patri prefer that, but it’s surprising. Ona isn’t the kind of girl who shout usually. She puts a comforting hand on Ona’s arm before talking.

“We don’t know that for now” she tries, with a comforting voice.

“Haven’t you seen the crash? Haven’t you seen of hard her head hit the ground? She didn’t move after that! At all!”

Patri doesn’t know what to answer at that. Ona’s right and she regrets to have inform her so soon, without having news of you. Or your brother, who had kind of a crush for Patri before realizing that she’s as gay as you are. You still tease him about it years later.

“I’ll try to call her brother, ok? But for now, let’s get out of here.”

When you wake up next time, you have enough strength to be able to open your eyes. You don’t know what time it is, but the sun is shining behind almost closed blinds. There is someone on a chair next to you, but you are disappointed to realize that it’s only your brother. Not Ona.

“Hola” he whispers when he realizes that your awake.

You only answer with a grunt, unable to talk for now. You feel sleepy again, but you want to talk with him a little bit.

“We are at the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You close your eyes briefly to make him understand that you remember. Your throat feels too scratchy to talk for now. You’ll learn later that they have to intubate you to keep you alive.

“You’re lucky you’re alive, I’ll kill you a second time if you weren’t. They want to get you back in Barcelona tonight, are you okay with that?”

You don’t answer right away. Why can’t they keep you here?

“The team think it would be easier to be somewhere where they speak Spanish. And we will be closer to Mama and Papi.”

Your brother seems to understand your questions. It’s a great thing that you are both so close. You close your eyes again now and he nods before taking your hand in his. You don’t really care where you are taking care off after all.

“You can sleep now. You need to rest to get better, ok?”

You squeeze his finger softly before closing your eyes for good now, falling asleep again. You are still asleep during the transfer to Barcelona and when you wake up again you are in the Spanish’s city hospital.

Once again, it’s your brother who is here when you open your eyes. He changed his clothes but he’s still here, reading a newspaper with his feet on your bed.

“Don’t you have a house?” you groan.

He rolls his eyes after having looked at you for two seconds. Maybe to realize that he wasn’t dreaming. He threw carefully the journal next to you without putting his feet down, but everything is still blur.

“I can’t read it” you whisper.

“The Spanish’ motorcycle prodigy almost died in an awful crash yesterday. Her condition remains alarming” your brother read for you.

He’s angry. You don’t answer anything, what should you say anyway? You know that it’s your fault, if you were a little more careful nothing of that would have happened. You know too that you aren’t on the point to die, your brother wouldn’t have scolded you if that was the case.

“What are my injuries?” you ask without looking at him.

He sighs loudly before answering.

“You have broken ribs, a broken tibia, your cheekbone too, your elbow is in pieces, your shoulder has been dislocated again and you have a massive concussion. They thought that you have something broken in your spine, but it’s just a massive bruise. Oh, and you have other bruises almost on every part of your body, when it’s not burn because of the asphalt. They had to put stitches somewhere on your head and your brow bone too.”

you stay silence for several seconds, completely stunned. These are massive injuries, you know it. It will probably need a lot of time to heal all of them and that mean that you will miss the end of the championship. You were on the top 3, and it’s an awful disillusionment for you. You were already picturing yourself on the podium at the end of the season.

“How many time am I supposed to stay in bed? Before starting my rehab?”

He frowns softly, not expecting this question.

“They don’t know for now if you elbow will be well enough to start racing again”

“Of course it will be” you snort.

“No” your brother answer. “It’s serious, Y/N. You maybe won’t be able to drive a motorcycle again. On a circuit at least.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t have the choice. This is all I have left now.”

Your breakup was awful for you, but it was for your family too. You weren’t always careful with you, but Ona pushed you to be reasonable and stayed in the track. Now you don’t have anyone to hold you back. Ona was the only one you were listening. You don’t listen to anyone now. Only your Abuela when she when she emotional blackmails you. But your loved ones try not to use that card too much to not burn it.

“You have to stop that. You still have people who care for you. The Oldies do, I do, your friends do. I know that the breakup sucks, but you can’t play with your life like you do.”

“Piss off” is all you mumble back.

Because you know he’s right, but what are you supposed to do now that he’s here with you and you would give ten years of your life to swap him with Ona? He doesn’t answer anything, knowing that you’re out of arguments and that you know he’s right.

“Did she… Did she call you?”

“She didn’t have to” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I called Patri as soon as we were in your hospital room in Italy.”

This hurt a little more, to be honest. You are not aware that Ona was with Patri every time she received a call or a message from your brother. You sight softly before closing your eyes. Your head starts to hurt like hell, which is probably normal for a concussion.

You wake up several hours later and you already know that it’s the night. There isn’t any noise coming from outside your room and no light from outside. But there is someone sitting on the chair next to you.

“Ona?”

It’s seems almost impossible, but it’s definitively Ona. You are able to recognize her silhouette in the dark after all these years passed with her. Even if you haven’t seen her in the last three months.

“It’s worse than anything” she mumbles, looking somewhere near your broken leg.

“What?”

“Not knowing how you are. I thought that break up with you will help me to stop worrying about your races, but it’s worse every time. I almost called you or messaged you before every race just to hear your voice, but I just couldn’t. And then I learned about your accident, and I have to live with the thought that you were dead for several hours.”

She raises her eyes on you, and you have trouble to support her gaze, even if you are in the dark.

“I’m sorry” you finally say.

“Really?”

She seems unconvinced and she has every right to be. She knows you, better than anyone.

“Well, I’m sorry that you were worried because of me. But as you see, I’m alive.”

She rolls her eyes and let her back go against the chair she is sitting on. You still feel strange, without knowing if it’s because of the drugs or because you are dreaming. You don’t have really anything to lose, so you ask.

“Is it real life?”

Ona looked at you with an obvious surprise on her beautiful face. God you missed her so damn much.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it real or am I dreaming?”

“Are you making the move where you ask me if I am an angel?”

You stupidly laugh before regretting it, your ribs protesting hardly. Ona seems alarmed when you groan in pain, putting your non-injured hand on it.

“I’m ok” you whisper, taking several small breaths, the big one would have been too hurtful.

“You are not” Ona mumbles.

She’s right.

“It’s less painful than the thought that I lost you.”

She sighs once again and looks at her fingers before shaking her head softly. You wanted to grab her hand, but she’s on your bad side and your arm is in that awful cast.

“Tell me what I have to do to have a second chance, Oni. I’ll do every single thing you’ll ask me. I swear. Please” you beg when she stays silence for several seconds.

“What if I ask you to stop your stupid moto?”

There is a challenge in her voice, and you know why. One time, she told you that she’s not even sure that if she asks you to choose between her and your sport, you’ll chose her. At that time, you didn’t know that she was serious, you thought that it was something she wasn’t thinking and said due to the fight. How wrong you were.

“I’ll do it” you answer without any doubt.

She seems surprised, looking at you with two big eyes. You have always loved Ona’s eyes, some people said that brown eyes are the most common and expressionless. They never have crossed Ona’s gaze.

“I saw what a life without you is Ona and I don’t want that life. I want you and if I have to stop my sport, I’ll do it if you still want me.”

She sighs and rubs her eyes. She seems tired to be honest, but maybe because it’s the middle of the night and that she’s supposed to be asleep right now.

“I didn’t break up with you because I don’t love you anymore. I still do and I think I will for all my life. I need you to be a part of my life too.”

Her words are melody in your ears, but you feel like there still is something else. Like if something was restraining her.

“But…?” you mumble, looking for her eyes.

“But I can’t continue like this. I thought you were dead.”

She’s crying now and your heart hurt like if someone just punch it. You move in the bed, trying desperately to touch her or anything to try to comfort her. Your ribs and your legs burn awfully, and you ignore your elbow hurting in protest.

“Ona I’m so sorry, I swear” you say, managing to take her hand in yours.

The position is awful, and you wonder briefly if you can throw up even if you haven’t eaten anything since almost two days.

“I didn’t think it will hurt you that way. Please don’t cry” you continue.

She shakes her head softly, kind of laughing between her tears.

“Why would you think that?”

“Because you left me. And you blocked me everywhere.”

That point hurts, too. You weren’t even able to look at her social media to have news of her, you were reduced to follow fan’s account of her.

“I just couldn’t live with you popping randomly on my timelines. It hurts too much every time.”

You nod and that the gesture who make your position too hurtful. You roll on your back, trying to hold your whine of pain. But Ona sees it anyway and frown almost instantly.

“Do you want me to call them to have more painkillers?”

“Are they ok with you being here? I don’t want them to make you leave” you admit with a law voice.

There is a beam of silence.

“I won’t leave your side” she says in a comforting voice.

You want to believe that she means it for like all your life. But having her tonight is what you have best for now. So, you nod, closing shortly your eyes when she rings the nurses. The door is open only a minute after and you open your eyes again when you hear Ona’s voice.

“I think she’s ready for more painkillers” the brunette says.

“I will give some to you” the nurse says to you before adding something in your intravenous. “What hurts?”

“Everything” you admit softly.

She nods and gives you a smile in sympathy. You look at her doing her things, missing Ona’s small winces at your admission. The nurse starts to talk again when she’s at the door, ready to leave.

“You will feel better like this. After that it will be great if you try to eat something. You will be sleepy for now though.”

Your eyes fly to Ona who is already looking at you. She said that she will stay by your side, but does she meant while you sleep too? She probably has training or somewhere to go. A match to play? You don’t know which day is it anymore, the painkillers are starting to kick already, making you confuse.

“Ona” you manage to say.

“Sleep, Hermosa. I’ll be here when you wake up, ok?”

Two weeks after, you are finally leaving the hospital. You still have to leave in a wheelchair, much to your disappointment. But with almost half of your body injured, there is no way that you are able to walk with crutches.

The only positive thing is that the person who is pushing the wheelchair is Ona and that she managed to make it funny, sliding on it in the hospital’s floor. Your brother is following with your suitcases, smiling softly while watching both of you.

After learning that you will be alright, you parents went home in Mallorca two days before you were authorized to go home. They proposed to you to come back to Mallorca with them and you have to admit that you miss your island, but there is no way that you are somewhere Ona isn’t.

When you felt better, you had a very intense and long discussion about your relationship, both of your feelings, what you both expect from that said relationship and where you want it to go.

Ona is the one who will look after you on daily basis, but sometimes your brother will need to take you to your appointment when Ona is away or training. The end of the season is soon here, but there still is the Olympics this Summer so she has to prepare herself intensively.

Your girlfriend’s here, one month after, when you are in the doctor’s office for the worst moment of your professional life. Sitting next to you, she’s holding your hand when the doctor looks at you with an awful sorry face.

“I don’t know where to start” he begins, playing with the sheets on his desk.

“Just go straight into it, Doc” you sigh softly.

You know already that you will hate what is going to be say. Ona’s fingers stroking your hand help, but your heart is still beating faster than ever.

“You are making good progress, I saw that they removed your cast on your feet, but we are really concerned about your elbow. We don’t think it will be fit enough for you to be able to start motorcycle in a professional way anymore.”

You were waiting for it, but it’s still hurt to hear that. Motorcycle is the only thing you knew since you were a teenager, you never thought about doing anything else in your life. You swallow softly before passing a hand on your face. You did everything you can to be able to start again, followed every advice your team gave you. But it’s not enough.  

“I don’t know what to say” you finally mumble, looking at an imaginary point somewhere on the desk. “It’s all I know; I don't know how to do anything else.”

“I can pick you an appointment with our psychotherapist if you want to. It can help.”

“Can we leave? I’ll tell you if I want one”

For now, you just want to get out of this office and be able to breath some fresh air. Ona helps you to get up even if you don’t need help anymore. You suppose it’s a way to comfort you. You are glad for her. She doesn’t say anything while you are getting out of the building, but she doesn’t let your hand go when you lean against the railing once outside.

“What am I going to do, Ona?” you whisper softly.

She let go of your hand now, but it’s only to pass her arm around your waist and hold you close.

“Whatever you want mi Amor. It’s ok not to know now, but you still have a bunch of possibilities. We will figure it out together, yeah?”

She kisses your cheek, and you close your eyes, letting yourself being cuddle a little more. It’s not the same feeling that the one when you lost Ona. You know there is different exit doors, you just have to find the good one. Ona will be your light in the dark.

Several weeks later, you are in France. Not for a race, but for playing the WAG for your girlfriend who is playing the final today. She introduces you to others girlfriends/wife of her teammates and you get along great with everyone. You watched every single game in the stadium, and you were able to see Ona several times in between. You missed her and she was worried sick to let you alone at home, but you are pretty fine.

You are famous in the world of sport so it’s not a surprise that you are not able to skip some interviews while going to the stand to attend the finale.

“Y/N” said one journalist when he puts her microphone under your mouth, with an awful French accent. “You announced your retirement sooner this month because of your massive injuries. How are you feeling?”

“I’m still sad about it, of course. It wasn’t my choice and I think it makes it harder but I didn’t have the choice. I’m sad not to be able to finish the championship this year, I was really well ranked, but you know…”

You shrug, thinking that’s between his accent and yours, people on social media will have a great fun.

“Do you think you will come back in the motorcycle world one day?”

“Not as a racer obviously, but why not. I still need to figure what to do with my life, but first I have to heal correctly.”

“Thanks for your answers” he smiles. “Do you have a favorite for today?”

“Spain, obviously” you smile back.

“Have you a favorite player?”

You almost roll your eyes at that. Your relationship with Ona is a common knowledge for everyone, you are not hiding yourself. You both weren’t as famous before and you were posting without really thinking about it.

“Oh, I don’t know… Number two is pretty great” you smirk, looking at the jersey you are wearing.

You hear someone giggle in the background, and you are pretty sure to recognize Irene’s wife waiting for you with Mateo. You soon say goodbye to the journalist to find your place in the stand. You are sitting next to Ona’s family obviously and your family made the travel too. They are sitting next to other Majorcans people, Cata’s family and Mariona’s brother and mother aren’t far away neither.

When Ona smiles at you during the national anthem after looking around to find you, you smile back and say “T’estimo” to her. You know that she can’t hear you, but she easily can read it on your lips.

You don’t know what the results of this game will be, like you don’t know what you will do in several months. But you know you will be fine, because you will be with her.

Ona is your forever and you don’t want another.

[revelboo]

Hello, sorry if I'm being annoying. But I’d love to see something with IDW Ratchet or Tarn if you could write anything with them—especially Ratchet. I just don’t see enough good stories about him. I really enjoy your writing style and can’t get enough of it. Sorry for any mistakes; English isn’t my first language.

Sure, I’ve been meaning to do an IDW Ratchet. Tarn’s on my list, too, but he and Ratchet will likely be the last new characters for a while. I’m currently over 30 ongoing storylines at this point 😅

Feel Like Rain

IDW Ratchet x Reader

• Sometimes it’s all too much. Even with First Aid helping, there’s just not enough medics in the Ark to support so many Autobots. Wheeljack and Perceptor can help if push comes to shove, but even then once the fighting begins again it won’t be enough. He’s never enough. And when he can’t get his processor right, when it threatens to drown him, he goes driving in his alt mode. Feels the sun baking him, the sand and hot asphalt under his tires. No real destination in mind, just trying to calm the panic that’s always there, the worry about what might happen. Driving for hours sometimes in a widening spiral about the Ark. Never going too far in case he’s needed. As he turns, he almost misses the car down in a crevice, only part of the bumper still visible, emergency lights flashing. Not his problem, but he’s still slowing anyway. Because he’s still a medic and someone might be hurt.

• Transforming and sliding down next to the car, he lays a hand on the roof feeling the heat of the metal and knowing it’s been there a while. Leaning to look inside anyway, there’s a human slumped forward against the wheel, broken glass glittering in their hair. Unmoving. Too late, then. Spark constricting, he’s turning away, pushing off the car to make the metal groan, when their little fingers flex and you make a low, guttural noise of pain that freezes him.

• It takes time to carefully peel back the roof of the car, snap the seatbelt and pull the door off to remove you. Feeling how hot your skin is against his servos as he lifts your limp form. Your eyes never open but you mumble incoherently, broken fragments he can’t make sense of. That make him wonder just how long you’ve been here, trapped and waiting to die. Because there’s no leaving you now that he has you in his hands. Carefully transforming around you to carry back to the Ark.

• Wheeljack’s in Medbay when he returns, digging through his tools and looking up guiltily, vocal indicators flickering green before he notices the human. “Haven’t seen that one before. Looks rough,” Wheeljack murmurs, moving closer as Ratchet lays you on a berth, your tiny form looking even smaller in the bot sized space. He’s almost absurdly glad Wheeljack’s there. Even though he’s been trying to brush up on human medicine since there’s so many of them now in the Ark, he doesn’t know nearly enough. Doesn’t know how to help you, but Wheeljack has a human. He has to know something.

• Snatching a scanner to run over you, he frowns at the results. Wrist and arm broken, one leg fractured. Body temperature well outside of normal parameters, dehydrated. Blood pressure off from normal, too. And he doesn’t know enough to know which problem is a priority. Which will kill you if he doesn’t fix it first. “Get your human,” he says softly. Temperature? It’s a place to start, cooling you off. “Now, Wheeljack,” he adds without looking up when the other bot doesn’t immediately move. Using a servo to brush your hair from your face, he can see the glass glittering on your skin and in your hair. “You held on this long.”

Next

[gooppoo]

asked for filth? alright

how about jake fucking the reader in ways the na’vi dont usually do? like eating her pussy making her sit on his face, fingering her, all the ways that you think they wouldn’t do and reader is just overwhelmed and so fucked out while hes laughing at her lovingly

no this is a really interesting concept bc how does james cameron b havin these mfs get down and dirty?

Let me show you.

Requests Closed!!

mdni.

warnings: oral (reader receiving), fingering, face sitting, jake is actually being a softy (surprise surprise)

p.s. challenging myself to condense my writing bc I tend to overwrite tbh

"Yes, sit, right here." Jake giggled at your bashful nature.

You swallowed nervously, "I-I don't know Jake..."

He swished his hand nonchalantly, "Babe, I promise, you're gonna love it. When I was one of the sky people we did this all the time." Your ears flattened when he mentioned the sky people, "Listen, just try it, if you don't like it, we'll stop." He cocked a brow.

Your tongue ran over your teeth thoughtfully. Hesitantly, you shuffled toward his expression, praying that he was true to his word (his devilish smile was less than convincing).

Either side of his head, your thighs rested, one hand stuck out in front of you for stability. Jake chirped from beneath you to see if you were ready, and you sighed, unsure.

A wet, warm sensation spread across your folds and toward your clit. Your body involuntarily stiffened and jolted your hips away from his mouth.

"Woah woah hey, just my tongue. Don't worry baby." He studied your anxious stare, chewing on your bottom lip, "Only gonna use my tongue and my fingers. Promise." His wink was not as comforting as he thought, but still cute.

In your chest, your heart hammered making the rest of your body hot. It all seemed so new all at once, and it was overwhelming.

But...from the little bit you had, it felt pretty damn good.

Still, you proceeded with caution, and returned to your original position. You waited for his tongue to explore again, instead he opted to peck along your thighs. A part of you wanted to protest and whine for him to focus on your clit, but you let him show his expertise.

When his tongue made a reappearance, it was trailing toward your much wetter core. Again, the temptation crept up to force his tongue where you wanted it, but you were patient. And soon enough that patience paid off because before you could form another coherent thought, Jake was showing you that it was possibly for you to form incoherent thoughts.

It was like he was kissing you, making out with you messily, only it felt one hundred times better. All you could really do was gasp and mewl, feel Jake pull you harder down onto his character to dive deeper into you. At times, you'd both hum when you'd hips would buck out of pure pleasure.

But as soon as you adjusted to this new phenomena, another was introduced, this time you didn't pull away. There was a weak prodding at your slippery entrance - perhaps his fingers he had mentioned - sometimes penetrating through the tiniest bit just to slide back out.

It was different, and would take some adjusting, but as long as Jake kept his attention on your clit there wouldn't be any protest or insecurity. And he knew this too, he wouldn't send your body into shock and shove two fingers into you just to quicken the process. So he took his time building up to massaging your g-spot and keeping a blissful pace on your clit with his magical tongue.

Eventually, he was knuckle deep in you, stimulating your most sensitive spots and watching you gradually unfold on top of him. Feeling your thighs relax almost too much, cunt pulsing around his working digits, it was just as he had remembered it.

However, he couldn't sustain this rhythm forever, it would only get you so far, and he wanted you cumming on his face! He tried his best to be as unsuspecting while lapping at your clit and applying more vigor to your insides. And while this did send you further into your clouded mind of lust, it also quickly became too much.

"Jake - jake," you tried to warn him that you were on the cusp of overstimulation.

"Keep saying my name baby," he laughed against you. The faint tremble in your thigh and the tightening of your naval told him everything he needed to know, "I know it's a lot, it's okay. You're doin' fuckin' great." Most of his words were muffled, the vibration of his voice sending chills up your spine.

Sooner than he has expected, your thighs were stiffening, and your walls were tightening. He continued his pace with a sprinkle of passion, knowing what was waiting for him around the corner.

"Jake - oh, OH!"

There it was. That honeydew sweetness dripping down his fingers and coating his tongue. Making your sturdy legs shake and clit become too sensitive to even kitten lick. Jake was pussy whipped, no question about it.

When enough was enough, his half-damp face peaked from underneath you, an overly cocky smile plastered on his features.

"Whatcha think?" You nodded, still gasping for air, "I knew you'd like it."

[20doozers]

★Gentle kisses★

TW: fluff, bill and m!reader, sleepy yet sweet bill, usage of ‘y/n’, short shower scene, mentions of alcohol and hangovers, basically just a bunch of fluff because I’m too bored to write smut rn

A/N: I’m back bitches😝

The night before had been a busy one, the premiere of Kaulitz & Kaulitz being a big deal for your boyfriend bill. It had been an amazing event with tons of people and support for the twins. You had been there too, being bills secret boyfriend you had to be there to support him and Tom. But a big event came hand in hand with a drunken bill and hangovers the next morning..

You woke up to sunlight streaming in through the hotel room’s curtains, the soft glow casting over the white bedsheets as you laid there, bills soft snore next to you letting you know he was still asleep. He was laying on his side, bits of his curly blonde hair strung across his pillow as he slept peacefully. You knew he was probably hungover and would sleep longer, after all he could sleep all day if nobody woke him up.

You were slightly hungover too, yet you hadn’t drank as much as bill had. Sighing and wrapping an arm around Bill’s waist you slowly dragged him closer, his bare skin warm against yours as you softly kissed his head. He grumbled in response, still mostly asleep as he instinctively curled into you, his head finding the crook of your neck with a soft yawn. You reached for your phone to check the time and see if you had any texts, pausing for a moment as you felt bill begin to press sleepy, open mouthed kisses to your neck and collarbone.

9:07am. Good to know it was early. You sighed as you saw no texts, setting your phone back on the bedside table before resting your hand on Bill’s head and gently tangling your fingers into his soft blonde hair. You loved mornings like this, whether at home or away in a hotel room as long as you were with bill you were happy. His bare skin against yours felt almost heavenly, your hand gently pushing bill's hair aside to expose his old tattoo on the back of his neck. you remembered when he had gotten it, the feeling of his smooth skin when it was finally healed and he let you touch it. of course back then you were only friends but now as boyfriends life was so much better.

"y/n…" bill murmured, only prompting you to quietly shush him as you gently traced a finger over his tattoo. it was their band logo. sometimes you wondered if they failed after 'Durch den Monsun' what bill would have done about the tattoo. I mean living your normal life with a band logo that was a one time hit tattooed on the back of your wouldn’t be the most pleasant. But there was no need to worry anymore, they’d been successful and still were.

“Hungover, hm Schätzchen..?” you questioned almost teasingly, earning a little huff from bill as one of his tattooed arms was thrown over your bare stomach, his face nuzzled comfortably in the crook of your neck. His kisses had halted but you didn’t mind, bill was close and that’s what mattered. Bill was definitely hungover, his tone of voice gave it away, but he usually was after big events so you wouldn’t hold it against him.

“My poor baby.. all hungover and sleepy..” you cooed sweetly, snickering slightly when bill weakly nipped at your collar bone.

“Mmh… ich will einfach nur schlafen…” Bill groaned, complaining about how he just wanted to sleep. You couldn’t blame him, after all last night had been especially tiring for the other man.

“Then schlafen, Schatzi..“ you murmured back gently nuzzling your nose against the side of his head before gently kissing it.

“Schlaf gut..” you whispered softly, earning a small incoherent mumble from bill as he settled back into a blissful sleep, you soon following after him down the dusty trail of sleep.

A few hours later when bill woke up he found himself curled up with a pillow, blindly groping for his beloved boyfriend before whining and opening his eyes to look around. His dreary eyes soon fell on your shirtless figure, seeing you digging through one of your bags which was sat on the couch, seemingly looking for clothes. When you heard bills whine you looked up and chuckled, seeing the other man’s sleepy pout and messy hair.

“Well good afternoon sleepy head.” You teased softly, setting down the t-shirt in your hands as you walked over to the bed where bill was now sat up and leaning against the headboard while he rubbed his eyes.

“I was just about to take a shower, if you’d like to join me?” You teased lightly, knowing bill would accept since he hated being away from you. Bill nodded and climbed out of bed, his almost nude body only clothed in a pair of briefs.

You both soon made it to the bathroom, stripping down and getting into the shower, standing under the warm stream of water. Bill let out a quiet groan, loving the way the warm water felt against his tense, sore muscles from the previous night.

“Mmh someone clearly had a good time last night.” You hummed, your arms wrapping around Bill’s waist to gently pull him close. The warm water rained down on your skin as you both stood close together.

“It’s not my fault you kept giving me champagne.” Bill huffed, rolling his eyes like a diva as he reached for his mini bottle of shampoo, frowning when you stopped him.

“Let me do it, I know you’re hungover and you’re supposed to take a break today.” You scolded, holding no true malice behind your words and you grabbed the small bottle and opened it with a click, squeezing some into your palm and setting the bottle back down on the small shower shelf. You hummed as you reached up to bills hair, beginning to gently wash his hair, the relief in his face and the soft groans that fell from his lips with each stroke of your hands making you smile slightly.

The shower was slow and romantic, just taking your time soaking in eachothers presence under the warm streams of water. It was nice and peaceful, bills hangover mostly gone by the time you both got out of the shower and barely even dried off before clambering back into bed. Yet this time you were both in pajamas, no longer naked. Bills head rested on your shoulder and his eyes were focused on the tv, one of his favorite tv show playing while you were more focused on bill, gently playing with his hair and running your fingers through the dampened locks.

You never liked the same stuff bill did when it came to tv shows or movies but you didn’t mind, being there with bill was enough to keep you satisfied. You knew the rest of the day would be spent cuddling and probably ordering room service, binging tv shows until you eventually fell asleep in eachothers arms. But what else would you do on a day off?

I don’t love this fic but it isn’t the worst I’ve ever done. Also the shower part is short because I just didn’t wanna write a shower scene :P love you guys!!!!

Tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @tomssexdoll @billskeis @cherry-rawr

(Let me know if you wanna be on my taglist because like half of them deleted their accounts 😔)

[moodymisty]

Good night! I hope you are well 💖 how are you? I am a little nervous when making a request, English is not my native language and I use Google Translate to write this, sorry for any errors this message may have.

I love your writing, I love them! I always check to see if you uploaded something new, I'm very happy to be able to make a request on this occasion. If it's not too much to ask, please I would like some Sanguinius. Maybe finding out that his wife is pregnant during the turbulent times of the heresy? Or something related to him being able to feel that his partner is ovulating as mentioned in a previous post?

Thank you very much for your attention! May you have sweet dreams 🌙

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: As much as I like the idea of hawkboy and his pregnant beloved, the ladder interested me and I need to put more primarch fucking into the world, so here. Enjoy, I wrote this at like 4am so sorry if it's a bit incoherent.

Relationships: Sanguinius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Breeding kink, Ovulating, Creampie, Size difference, Just porn without a plot

"My love,"

Sanguinius had said once his men begun to return to their duties, leaving you both alone in the room. You looked up at him confused as to why he sounded so, exasperated. The glow of the holotable illuminated your skin and his armor, the primary source of light in the room.

"What?" You looked up at him almost worried; Had you done something?

He looked down at you, his wings tucked close to his body. His armor bulks up his silhouette considerably; He seemed so massive as you looked up at him. Sometimes it is easy for you to forget how truly overwhelming he really was.

"I beg of you to think of something else, until we have a bit more time to ourselves."

Your lips parted slightly as your brow furrowed, trying to pick apart what he'd said. "Think of something else?" You mimicked, trying to think his sentence through. Sanguinius sighed and looked away for a moment.

"My love, I can smell how wet you are."

Your face changed suddenly as he spoke to you quietly but firmly.

You hadn't realized he would be able to tell, it never entered your mind. You'd been aroused and barely able to keep track of your own thoughts all day, but you had thought it just something to keep secret to yourself until it blew over.

You looked away and pursed your lips, but any attempt to press your thighs together only seemed to worsen the throbbing between your legs. Sanguinius looked down at you with an unreadable expression, before he cleared his throat.

"Go back to our quarters. I will meet you there once I can get free of this debacle." Sanguinius' fleet had run into a myriad of issues that had taken up a good portion of his time, and it seemed to be wearing on his nerves; Especially when he realized that his beloved was wanting for him.

You nodded and scurried off; To wait for your angel to come to you once he was free.

Once Sanguinius had returned to his private quarters and thus to you, the clothes you had been wearing hadn't survived the minutes after. They were nothing more than ribbons and chunks of fabric strewn about, after his strength had torn them off of you like little more than parchment to be thrown away.

But while he has to be gentle to keep your body from falling apart beneath him, this time he was far less soft than he usually was; Throwing you onto his massive bed with little fanfare and then tearing your clothes apart. You hadn't minded, if anything gasping in the shock of cool air hitting your skin before suddenly his hot skin pressed against your own, pulling you underneath him.

You heard the way he hummed approvingly as you presented yourself to him, silently begging him to get on with it. You wanted him, more than anything, and after so long of waiting you were begging like he held your life in his hands.

Face down ass up, your beloved angel ruts into you like an animal, as you hear air whistling through his feathers each time his wings shift behind him. His head lays close to your own, as close as it can given the sizable difference in height. His breath is hot against your skin as he whispers.

"My little one, you just want it all, don't you? You can't give me a moment of peace."

You can't control your own body completely, it was that time and your mind was clouded, no matter how much you tried to keep yourself on task. You just wanted him, all the time, anytime you've seem him these past few days you were silently begging he just throw you over something and fuck you with no care about the consequences.

"Do you want me to give you a child, my love?"

He hears the way you mewl and cry underneath him, nails scratching the skin on his arms to hold yourself close to him. His cock fills you to the brim, like you're always teetering on the edge of too much.

But while you were the one who spurred this one, who was desperate, Sanguinius also seems to be effected as he breathlessly mutters; His hips hitting against your ass with an audible slap every time.

"I'll fuck you every day and every night until it finally takes."

He can see on your shoulders and neck the little scars of bite marks, where you'd given yourself to him, or where he'd taken it in the fit of pleasure. He has never asked for your blood, but you always offer it to him. He has nigh untenable strength when it comes to the Red Thirst, but while he doesn't need your blood, he won't deny the satisfaction it brings him to taste you.

You writhe and mewl underneath him, whispering his name over and over again. His cock brushes against the deeps parts inside of you, stretching you in the way only he can as you beg for more more more.

"Sanguinius, please,"

He feels you tighten around him, body so hot and wound that it doesn't take long to push you over the edge. You hear his deep breaths in your ear, feel his hair against your skin as he covers you. Your whole world is almost entirely in his shadow, from both his body and his wings.

"You will be the perfect mother," He utters through his groan, feeling himself teetering just on the verge. You hear him hiss through his teeth as he finally finishes inside of you, his hot skin pressing against your own. One of his hands grips your hip tight and keeps you close to him, until he finally stops throbbing inside of you.

When he slowly pulls out, it's hard not to whine from the empty feeling, as well as the distinct feeling of his own cum slipping down your already slick thighs.

Now able to reach your face without such an awkward angle Sanguinius leans down to kiss your neck just below your ear, feeling the soft skin and your blood pulsing just underneath.

"I need to be back to my sons, they will surely be wondering where I am already."

He laments leaving you like this, tired and well fucked, but he already took more time to himself that he was allowed in this busy time. His legion had been coming across issue after issue that required his attention, and while he takes solace in the moment he just stole with you, he needs to return to his legion.

"I'll see you again once I'm cleaned up," You say, looking up at him with soft eyes and flushed skin. Sanguinius laughs.

"I'm almost tempted to say no; The last time you came to see me, we ended up here." You smile at him and laugh, having turned over onto your back underneath him.

Sanguinius leans down and presses his lips against the soft skin beneath your ear again, gently sucking and kissing before scraping his teeth against it. You mewl, hands wrapping in his hair as your thighs unconsciously part for him. You want more, he's already made your body start to yearn for him all over again with just a simple touch.

"I'll be finished with this all soon, and then I promise you my full attention, my love. I will make true on my earlier words."

[sillygoosealert]

Can you write about Smoke finding out his significant other has been harming herself and has been depressed for sometime but would try to hide it from him so he wouldn't worry?

They’re just Cat scratches I swear

Tw self-harm by cutting, pretty self-indulgent as my own experience but also like this is pretty much everyone’s experience combined, hope whoever sent this is okay, I hope you all are doing okay

Tomas angst, you might die at the end if I'm Feeling Silly

You're training with Tomas in a black long-sleeve

An odd choice considering you're training at the Shri-Ru-Yu but he doesn't question your fashion choice

Afterward, he tries to take you to the hot springs so you don't rot after training

You decline and insist you want to just go to bed

‘How come? We never hang out anymore, did something happen?’

A grim expression covers your face and you excuse yourself to bed

after you train you don't even shower, you just sleep

You sleep a lot, its like you hate being awake

So he desides to get you a sweet treat to cheer you up

That's how he cheers up, little acts of service

He gets you a small cupcake with pink sprinkles

But when he gets to your door, he hears muffled crying

It's like you're sobbing into a pillow

Afraid you are hurt- or something worse, he rushes in

The sight before him is horrific, blood-smeared across your arms and thighs

You're shaking harshly too

He goes over to the bed confused

‘What did you do?!’

Then he notices the razor blade in your hand

And then you notice he noticed the razor blade

Then you start crying even harder

And then he has to put the cupcake down

Then you drop the razor blade, nicking your thigh in the process

And then he has to quickly grab it, putting it on a flat surface to get it away

‘What happened? Why did you.. why didn't you tell me?’

You start to babble incoherent things, curling into a ball and sobbing

Maybe you're having a crying spell

He crawls into bed with you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in

‘What happened? Talk to me..’

You just cry into him, blood-smearing onto his uniform

Now he's holding you close while rubbing your back

‘Baby I don't know what to do, let me clean you up, please’

You calm down enough to nod and let him drag you away to the bathroom

Its so much worse is good lighting

The cuts are close and long, covering the majority of your thighs

They are sloppy on your arms, not as close or neat

He's shaking with you

And crying

You're both crying a lot

Then he starts a bath

‘I'm going to clean you up, okay? It's going to be fine..’

You don’t know who he’s really saying that to

He places you into the bath, the water lightly changing its shade

‘Gods.. why would you do this? I would have helped you through it.’

‘I’m sorry’

That’s all you say, the time he spends bathing you is spent in silence

The world is cruel and incredibly unfair, you both knew that

But how could someone like Tomas, who has experienced it firsthand, continue to go on when you couldn’t?

He lost his family because he was supposed to, and he still wakes up every morning and lives

But you weren’t like him.

Something neither of you could quite grasp

But that made him scared

What happens when it gets bad again?

Who’s going to save you from the disease that is death

Though, you could also call his love for you a disease too

But that is something he wants no cure to

He cleans your cuts with tears and sobs

Then drys you off without a word

Holding your arms with a firm grip, he stares into you

‘I won't be telling anyone. But I hope you know you aren't going to be leaving my sight anymore.’

You nod your head quickly ‘Okay’

Then he places his head on your thighs

‘You can't leave me. Not yet, not soon..’

Then you run your fingers through his hair, his slightly bloody hair

He doesn't wrap your wounds, letting them heal on their own

But he does take you to bed and lays on top of you, making sure you can't leave

‘Why didn't you tell me?’

‘You have enough on your plate, you didn't need to stress about this.’

‘I want to worry about you, to remind you that I care. I'll always care’

‘Thank you..’

‘I love you’

‘I love you too’

Silly 🎀

[emmies-agere]

Hello hello! Could you maybe do some Neuvilette (genshin) CG headcanons? maybe centered around him with baby regressors especially? sorry if thats too specific <3

hello anon! of course <3 honestly, the only reason i can slightly write for genshin is because my sister is into it and tells me all of the lore haha and i like watching her play it,, so i do apologize if anything is mischaracterized or written poorly! i hope you like it and have a nice day :D

neuvillette caregiver headcanons!

•neuvillette is a very gentle, soft-spoken caregiver. he always does his best to be there for you and make your regression as comforting and safe as he can.

•he would love brushing your hair in the mornings!! sometimes even putting a little braid in it, if you wanted him to.

•his favorite pet names to use for you are dear and love. he would probably melt if you referred to him as dada or a shortened version of his name <3

•always makes time for you, no matter how busy he is!! he’s happy to see anything you’ve colored and say a hello to your stuffies as well. even if all he can do is tuck you in at the end of the day with a bedtime story, he will absolutely find time to do it!

•never worry about being too small!! he doesn’t want you to feel embarrassed or insecure at all,, he loves taking care of you and will do so no matter what!

•neuvillette would adore taking you swimming. he’d find a pool, a lake, or even an ocean if one was nearby. he’d bring cozy towels and go swimming with you!! of course, you’re always close by his side, especially when you regress so young. he’ll make sure he brings water-safe toys for you, too!!

•he’s somehow magical at preparing milk? maybe the secret ingredient is love, but everytime he puts you down for a nap/bed, it’s exactly the temperature you want it to be, there’s a perfect amount of vanilla in it,, it’s just tasty!!

•neuvillette loves buying you sea creature plushies c: like otters, seals, sharks, etc! he finds them quite cute himself, and if he can make you happy, that’s all he wants.

•he would also make bathtime really fun! puts bubbles in the bath and uses the warmest water,, he also has more rubber ducks than either of you could care to count hehe

•if you were ever feeling down when you were regressed, or if you did so impurely, neuvillette would know just what to say. he would listen to what was wrong (even if happened to be incoherent) and comfort you, promising that things would be alright. and if you were alright with it... he would gently hold your hand, rubbing his thumb across the top of it soothingly.

•as a whole— neuvillette loves you a lot!! he loves looking after you and making sure you’re safe. he might not always know what he’s doing, but he promises that he will always try for you.

[thekissofaphrodite]

can u write a chris rodriguez x reader who is a kid of dionysus and she uses her perks to spend more time with chris like scheduling their quests and duties tg and stuff without his knowledge

I'M HERE TO SERVE ONCE MORE SINCE MY MAN CHRIS ISN'T GETTING THE ATTENTION HE DESERVES.

Invisible String

Chris Rodriguez x Daughter of Dionysus!reader

Summary: One single thread of gold tied him to you.

Warnings: Kinda stalker-ish behaviour (You can't blame the reader. she's too lovesick </3 )

Author's Note: I'm slowly finishing up my inbox! I do hope you guys like this MWUAH! 💋

——

"Daddy, please! Let him take archery with me!" You begged for the fifth time this afternoon, While your father sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, bringing a can of Coca-Cola up to his lips.

"Sweetheart, I can't do that. Didn't you already do stable work and Cabin cleaning with him? Not to mention, he's your partner for the Chariot Race this upcoming week!" Dionysus retorted, You were his favorite daughter, Yes. But sometimes he have his limits.

"But I never did archery with him, I wanna do archery with Chris!" You whined like a baby. Maybe this is a little bit too much. Setting yourself up accidentally with the boy you like may seem weird, but you just wanna spend time with him! After all, your dad favours him, besides who couldn't resist his dark curls and sweet smile?

Dionysus then thought for a moment, you gave him puppy eyes, and you knew he couldn't say no to his precious girl.

"Fine.."

You squeled.

"But hey— You won't be sitting next to him in the Hermes Table every dinner for a week! Your siblings needs company and—"

But before he could even finish his sentence, You left.

——

With a bow and arrow in hand, you strided through the archery area where campers gathered all around, Either flirting with the Apollo kids or practicing their skills.

You went behind Chris and tapped his shoulders, smiling widely as he greeted you.

"Hey Chris!"

He turned around and saw you, your hair in pigtail braids, Ever so beautiful.

Your presence to him was like a thousand rainbows appearing above the sky while the dark clouds vanished after a heavy storm.

"How are you doing?" That's was all he managed to say after staring way too long at you.

"Fine, Now that were together" you winked at him jokingly, Sending him blushing.

"You know, I think we're meant to be together" Chris said, It was supposed to be a joke, but the neutral tone of his voice said otherwise.

"W—why do you think that?" you whispered.

"The Fates pulling us together every time? I think that's enough proof" He chuckled to himself.

"So you're kinda admitting that you like me?"

It was Chris' time to be flustered.

"No, I mean yes— I like you—But, That's not what I meant—"

You were now grinning, arms crossed while you chuckled at Chris' flustered expression.

You gave him a peck on his cheeks, The Hermes boy froze while a tint of red blush spread on his cheeks.

"It's no problem if you do, I'll have to say that I feel the same way"

Sprinting as fast as you could away from the archery area, you looked back and saw Chris Rodriguez blushing madly.

——

There was an accident that happened.

Apparently, helping short tempered children from the Ares cabin was a bad idea.

You were now sitting on the infirmary while a grumbling healer patched you up, mumbling incoherently something along the lines; 'Stupid, Clumsy Children'

When the healer tightened the medical gauze around your wound, You hissed a little, The healer shot you an annoyed look before rolling her eyes, She then tightened the gauze more.

"Excuse me— Uhm, I can do it" You insisted, taking the roll of medical gauze away from the healer.

The Chariot Race was today, and Chris would have to find another partner.

Disappointment ran through you, The chance of being with was now back to Zero.

The door in the infirmary then burst open, Revealing Chris with a worried look on his face, The healer scowled and pointed angrily at Chris.

"No Visitors Allowed, Boy! You can visit your pretty girlfriend later! I'm tired seeing you disgusting teenagers rub legs together and stick their tongue down eachother's throat here! This a clinic, not a motel!" Chris looked at you, You gave him the same; Wtf look.

"Uhm—"

"We're friends"

The healer snorted.

"Yeah, right. 'Friends' Once I leave, I know some things gonna happen" The healer stormed away angrily, Chris rubbed the back of his neck and chuckled softly.

"That took a turn"

"Yeah..."

"Are you okay? Your legs, I mean"

You nodded.

"Just a small fracture...Are you okay without me?"

He smiled.

"I didn't participate" You turned your head to him so quick that you almost gave yourself a whiplash.

"What?!"

"I figured out that it's best to look after the girl I like than join a lousy race"

The world stopped. Your breath hitched, and your eyes never left his. You're begging the gods to slap you awake, pour ice cold water onto your face to help you wake up, because this is definitely a dream. Is this real?

There was silence. The steady heartbeats were the only thing that you could hear before Chris cupped your cheeks like a delicate porcelain vase, "Can I kiss you?" He asked. You never nodded so fast in your life while you felt his lips touch yours.

The kiss was slow and passionate, Chris kept his hands on your cheeks, rubbing it with his thumbs. It wasn't long before the door slammed open, revealing a wide eyed, Furious healer who yelled;

"OUT OF MY INFIRMARY! DISGUSTING TEENAGERS!"

A/N

Hey hey! A chris rodriguez fanfic for you all since yall are sleeping on MY MAN.

More Fanfics to come!! <333

©️

[skelletonscloset]

Ok- I have a request for a small RE fic. It’s been burning a hole in my brain: something where Leon comes back from a mission or something with some serious injuries and the reader (who maybe has some kind of medical background or smth??) has to like- convince him to let them take care of him.

Idk I’m honestly not super picky I just think it would such an interesting idea for like- angst but also comfort yk? Literally go wild

OMGGGG thank you soooo much for this Resident Evil request!! i lovedddd writing it!! i hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Mild language and depiction of wounds.

Angst/comfort

1.3k words

~ ☠️

𝔹𝕀𝕋𝔼 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔹𝕌𝕃𝕃𝔼𝕋

You were called into work on your day off. of course you were. USSTRATCOM wasn’t good at respecting time off or vacation, always pulling people into a big mess that takes weeks to clear up.

It was late, roughly one in the morning when you got the call from Hunnigan, her worried voice over the phone begging you—almost commanding you to come in. Her words were so panicked, so fast you barely had time to make out the words “Leon” and “injured” but that was enough for you to realize why you needed to come in.

The drive to HQ felt longer than usual, maybe it was the fact your sleep was interrupted, or maybe it was the context, the fear. The building was almost completely empty when you got there, save for a few people finishing up reports and agents being sent out on other missions.

“There you are! come on, he’s in the infirmary,” Hunnigan instructed.

You were one of the few medics that had the skill level to treat whatever injuries he had and one of the only ones who was easily available and not out on their own missions. Hunnigan nodded towards the closed door, saying a few final words about what to expect and then walking away.

With a deep sigh you readied yourself. It was never easy dealing with injuries, and the way Hunnigan made it sound these had to be some pretty serious ones.

The light in the room was bright and harsh with multiple cabinets and drawers filled with medical equipment. Leon was on the bed, a grimace on his face and his eyes squeezed shut.

His honey blonde hair was messy and beads of sweat still hadn’t dried on his face. As you approached him you analyzed the injuries you could see. Scratches and cuts littered his face, a gash in his right arm and thick red blood seeped through his shirt.

“Leon what the hell happened!?” You urged as you got closer to him.

“The hell do you think?” His voice was dry and strained, one of his blue eyes opening to peer at your worry stricken face. “It’s alright.”

Your jaw tightened as you reached over for some cleaning supplies, “I think you pushed yourself too hard and did something stupid. and now you’re suffering the consequences. So no, It’s not alright.”

“Yeah well what am I supposed to do? Civilians needed help. I couldn't just leave them there.”

You dabbed a cloth with ointment around the slash on his arm, he hissed in pain. Sometimes you hated how righteous he was, how unwilling to give up he was. But it was something you’d always admired of him anyway. “Listen to me, I know you like to help people, Leon but you need to be more careful. The spain incident and Los Illuminados should’ve been a wake up call that you aren’t invincible.” You hoped that despite your lecturing him, he could understand it was out of concern

He only scoffed, “I know that.” And then he went back to being silent.

You gave him a look before taking out a roll of bandages. “You’re lucky this wasn’t too deep. what caused this?”

“A knife,” he said, rolling his head over to study your movements, eyes fixated on the way your hands carefully wrapped up his bicep in medical gauze.

You shook your head and gently grabbed the hem of his shirt. “I need you to try and sit up, I need this off so I can check the wound.”

He muttered a few incoherent grumbles of disapproval but ultimately subjected to your care. He heaved a deep groan as he sat up with your help. You slowly peeled off the shirt from around his frame and grimaced at the sight of a deep wound, either a stab or bullet entry on the side of his torso. Based on the diameters it looked as though a knife was pushed in and twisted before ripping out.

“Goddammit leon..” you muttered, immediately grabbing another cloth to clean around the wound. “You'll need stitches and I don't have access to anesthesia or lidocaine. so it looks like you’ll be biting down on a belt or something.” It was your attempt at a joke to help ease the tension.

He rolled his eyes, lips pulled into a thin line. He looked so exhausted, dark bags under his eyes. “do what you need to do.”

You walked towards one of the cabinets and pulled out some gloves, thread, and needles. In the corner of the room there was a fridge and freezer used to cool down medicine or preserve it. You grabbed a piece of ice and walked back over to him. “Here bite this.” you handed him a large medical bite wafer. “I'll make this quick.”

You eased the pain in the wound by rubbing the ice carefully around the cleaned edges before slipping the needle into his skin. Your eyes shot up to monitor his reaction in case it became too much. His jaw was set and his eyes shut.

You continued to stitch him shut, a few groans of pain escaped past the wafer as you finished up. After cutting the string and bandaging him up you sighed “all done.” He spit out the wafer into the trash and rubbed his jaw.

He opened his eyes and gave you a weary look. more sweat accumulated on his face and his breathing was more rugged and uneven. His face was still littered in bruises and cuts.

You grabbed a third cloth and dampened it, “Last thing, let me just clean you up then i’ll get you painkillers and give you instructions for what i need you to do following this.” You gently cupped his cheek, turning his face towards you. Tired blue eyes gazed up at you, thick brows furrowed in discomfort.

You dabbed the cloth against some of the cuts and wiped away some of the dirt. Your voice was shaky no matter how much you tried to relax it. “What happens when you get hurt you don’t make it home Leon… what happens when you don’t even realize you got hurt til it kills you. What if-“

“It's not going to happen,” He grabbed your wrist and raised a brow. His voice wasn’t angry or tired. It was gentle and smooth. “I know what I'm doing out there, I promise.”

You closed your eyes and sighed again, “Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“Of course I don't, but it doesn’t change anything.” You bit, pulling your hand from his hold and continuing to clean his face.

Once again his voice was soft and quiet, “Trust me, okay? Or maybe I just need to start having you assigned to my missions too.” Towards the end his tone was more snarky.

“Maybe. If it stops you from being so damn stubborn.” you scoffed out a laugh and set the cloth down.

You gave him a once over as you cleaned up your supplies and disposed of what wasn’t necessary. “Okay you need to be on bed rest for three weeks. And no you cannot get out of this sooner.”

Leon only rolled his eyes again but nodded, knowing all too well that arguing with you clearly wasn’t worth it. “alright alright..”

You patted down your clothes and brushed off your hands. “I'll send Hunnigan in with your medicine and I'll visit you tomorrow.” And with that you turned around.

You halted in surprise when you felt his grip around you wrist, “wait.”

You looked over your shoulder, “Yes, Leon?”

“Thank you. Seriously. Probably would’ve been worse off if it weren’t for the many times you’ve had to take care of me… so.. thanks for worrying. Even if it’s stupid.”

You almost argued back on that last point but held your tongue. “Of course leon. Any time.”

[oneshlut]

Your writing is so good!!! I’m so happy to finally have found someone who writes for Flug! (And I feel like you capture his personality so well :,) ) Could I request some headcanons for Flug with a partner who gives him a lot of handmade gifts. From paintings or little sculptures, to poems/letters and songs. Basically a really artsy reader who just likes giving personal gifts to Flug! ^^ (and maybe even some to 505 as well, like handmade plushies) Thank you sm!

A/N: you are TOO sweet! i love hearing about how much you all love my writing, and flug is one of my favorites to write for!! i'll try my best to convey the reader's personality and all, thanksies for requesting! <33

Homemade Affection (Dr. Flug x Artistic!Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: Headcanons of Dr. Flug with an artistic S/O, who creates trinkets, paintings, letters, etc. as gifts. Extra meeting and confessing headcanons

Dr. Flug is hardly someone you'd describe as creative. His inventions were great! But the designs were.. well, practical, I suppose. They were made exactly how they were supposed to be, just to the extent for the machinery to work. So he had never put too much effort into designs when it came to his work.

His inventions also usually never had anything special added to them. Flug makes things exactly how they're asked to be made, and nothing else. He's a man of order and schedule, and honestly can't live without it. Which is why he forgets to add an off button to most of his inventions.

You, on the other hand, loved free-will. Especially when it came to your own creations, art, paintings, writings--everything! If you did care for order and all, you make sure to add your own personal color to your schedule. Doodles can be found all over any paper you're given, and in your spare time/all the time, you'd create plushies, sculptures, collages.. truly, anything artistic. Anything you were given, you incorporated some sort of pigment into it.

You had first met him when you joined Blackhat Org., for villainy and such. Surprisingly, you were a great addition to the company! Surprising to Dr. Flug, at least. Now, he's usually not one to judge, but you were practically radiating with color, so he kinda thought you were just a Demencia duplicate. Upon meeting you, he found himself pleasantly shocked.

Flug was intriguing to you. So incredibly different than you, yet somehow, you two clicked. He was a nervous wreck, yet somehow put together. Kinda like you! (jk)

The more time you spent with him, the more Dr. Flug got comfortable with your presence. When he was having a busy day, he'd sometimes ask you to do small things for him. You, most of the time, obliged. Unless you were busy as well--most likely busy painting something that doesn't need to be painted.

Confessions? Oh--yes! Right, right.. well, Flug kinda had this whole plan written out of how he'd admit his feelings for you. He would pace around his room for hours, mumbling incoherent, scrambled thoughts of what would be the uttermost perfect way to confess. He doesn't know what the term "Don't overthink it" means. His rambles, walking to nowhere, and planning usually came to a pause when you stopped by.

How ignorant he was, because as he was writing out a plan that reached to the floor, you were cooking up your own idea to confess aswell. Except, you weren't focused on making it perfect. You wanted it to seem like it came from you. Yup, you were writing a confession letter to Flug. And yes, it did have doodles all over it.

When Dr. Flug left his laboratory for a moment, you stood to leave. Not after leaving your letter there, though. When he returned, he was worried about where you went, before the letter caught his eye.

He chuckled staring at the small doodles that covered the page. Then he read what you wrote..

Oh. His bag immediately flushed a deep red.

When the two of you got together, you immediately started on little crafts to give him. Either for dates, valentines day, christmas, or any holiday! Maybe one day for your anniversary..

Oh, Dr. Flug adores them. Every little thing you give him goes on a shelf right next to his jet collection. He treasures them as if they were of his own creation--because they were of yours. Nothing will be able to beat the feeling of receiving a gift from you. His eyes never fail to light up at the sight of your artwork. Yeah, he's head over heels. Not saying he worships you like a god, but he definitely looks up to you.

That confession letter definitely wasn't your last letter. Occasionally, you'd write him notes or letters for him when you couldn't make it to his lab. Sometimes love poems! Flug definitely tripped over his shoes reading your first love poem to him. He still can't believe such romantic subjects that he usually saw in movies were being shown.. towards him, of all people.

If you wrote a song for him? Dr. Flug would cry. Sorry, no way around it, his heart would throb and suddenly all his love for you was just flowing out in the form of tears. Afterwards, if you gave him a recorded tape of the song, he'd listen to it daily. Sometimes on loop in the background when he's doing work. He'd get distracted often, though...

The plushies definitely tugged at his heartstrings, though. You once gave him a plush heart, and he kept it on his desk everyday. Until 5.0.5. got to it. Dr. Flug once checked up on him to see how he was doing, before seeing him sleeping soundly, cuddling the knit creation you gifted him. After Flug sent a photo of it to you, because he was practically close to breaking down due to how wholesome the scene was, you knew exactly what you had to do.

The next day, you came in to the lab with two small hand-knit stuffies for 5.0.5. One sunflower, and one little mini-5.0.5. You were proud with how they turned out! Part of you wanted to keep them because of how cute they were, but you knew they were a gift for 5.0.5.

As soon as Dr. Flug set his sight on the stuffed plushies, his heart immediately warmed up. It honestly baffled him that someone would do that for 5.0.5., but I guess you were a naturally kind person. He was so lucky to have you, he realizes. After wiping the slightest bit of tears from his goggles, he took them and put them carefully with the rest of 5.0.5.'s stuffed animals.

Dr. Flug will now occasionally ask you to help him with his inventions designs, spotting your eye for color and overall talent when it came to.. well, art.

The two of you work together well, as both work-partners and.. partners. Flug adores your colorful nature, and you adore his technical nature. You snap together like yin and yang, and Dr. Flug couldn't ask for anything more than who you are.

If things keep going the way they are, you may wind up soulmates.

[writingshushf1]

hey babe 💕 hope your day is going well! if the idea clicks with you, here's a request! but, no worries if you don't vibe w/ it <3 anyways, would you be up to writing a felipe drugovich x fem!reader, where usually their sex is very sweet and lovey, and its good, but reader decide she wants to ask for something different. she sits down to talk to him all like "please don't take this wrong" and is super worried he'll hate the idea but she asks him to take it rough with her sometime and boy, he delivers 🫣 ( + spanking kink <3 )

My oh my...

Summary: felipe was sweet and lovely, but too much for your taste, so you decide to change things a bit - and he's into it.

Rating: +18

Warnings: explicit !!!! oral (f! and m! recieving), p with plot, unprotected s*x, spanking (kink), blindfold, maybe some mouth f*cking, praise kink. PURE FILFTH

Word count: 2.2k

Notes: it was supposed to be a drabble . it was supposed to be around 0.9k words. ended up a full one shot. i'm more impressed than you think .

masterlist

Their bodies were clinging together, his face was against your neck as he let out low moans. You had already reached your climax, and he was reaching his. He was mumbling incoherent things in Portuguese and you thought it was adorable.

His body crashed against the mattress and he held your hand, kissing it lightly, and you smiled and laid your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and enjoying the rest. He was so sweet and caring, so different from the others.

Days later and there was something bothering you lately about having sex with him and you didn't know what it was, he was perfect, loving, took time with you and treated you like a princess, there was no reason to be picking on that. Since he was away for the first race of the season, you took that time to think about what was going wrong, what you felt was missing, not least because you always got there, always, often more than once.

Of course google was your source to understand what you might be feeling, because the love was there, the hard-on was there, what was missing?

And well, you found what you could possibly add. It wasn't that you had a missing piece, but a few things that could be added sometimes. Now came the hardest part, talking to him and seeing if he was okay with that. The biggest fear was that he would feel offended or even angry that you kept it from him and you didn't want to get to that point, of fighting over sex "issues".

You waited until he had the week's break between Bahrain and Jeddah. He arrived at your London apartment with the biggest smile on his face, hugging you and lifting you off the floor, filling your face with kisses.

"Eu estava com saudades!” (I've missed you.)

"I missed you too, Fe." As happy as you were, your nervousness was eating you up inside. "Drop your bags in your room and come, I made a special dinner for you."

"I'm curious." He hurriedly went to leave his suitcase in his room and quickly returned, already with slippers on his feet and without his sweatshirt.

"É... Um... I'm going to say this wrong, but... farofa de pinhão." You put it in a pot and handed it to him.

"You're the best, you know that, right?" He took a spoonful of the farofa and smiled when he tasted it. "Incredible."

You ate dinner, sitting on the couch with your legs curled up together. After a while, just listening to the background television and enjoying the moment together, he started paying more attention to you, sensing that maybe something was wrong, so at the same moment, you got up and took the pots to the kitchen, washing them while he followed you, leaning his body against the countertop, analysing your somewhat nervous movements.

When you finished cleaning the dishes, you took a deep breath and turned to him.

"We need to talk."

“Aham… Bedroom?” He was a bit startled by it, but he tried to take it as light as possible.

You walked to the bedroom and sat on the bed facing each other. You took his hands and placed them on your lap, taking a deep breath and looking at a fixed point behind him.

"First of all, love.... Please don’t take this wrong, okay?”

“Did I do something wrong, gatinha?” His worried voice made you even more nervous than you already were.

“Baby, no… Calm down and listen to me.”

“Okay. Sorry.”

“So… I love having sex with you, really, you’re the best guy I’ve ever been with, you care about what I’m feeling, it makes me cum every single time, it’s very sweet and it makes me feel so good…” You breathed in, squeezed his hands. “But sometimes I would like to do it more rough, you know? Like… You know, be rougher with me.” The tension on your body could be felt miles away. “If you’re not into it, it’s okay! I… Is it more of an idea? I’m sorry.”

“Ah. Uau.” His face expression was pure surprise, yet his smile did not lie, he was into it. “You don’t need to apologise, baby.” 

He pulled you to his lap, caressing your back and leaving small kisses on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, okay?” You looked at him, feeling that guilt fade away.

“Okay.”

“I just didn’t know you were such a naughty girl…” He murmured, stealing a quick kiss before taking you off his lap and going to the bathroom.

……………………………………………………………

You had spent your Saturday afternoon with your girl friends, going to different cafés, going shopping - which resulted in a new green lingerie set, just for him. When you came back, the lights on the apartment were low. He was sitting down on the sofa watching a football match, only in his black Adidas training shorts, his legs and arms spreaded and you could see his bulge from afar. You left your bags on the floor and sat on the arm of the sofa, running your hands through his hair.

“Hi, love…” He looked up, smiling at you.

“Oi, bem.” (Hi, dear)

“I’m going to take a shower then what do you think about some coffee and pastries from the places I went with the girls?”

“Perfect. The match will be off soon.” His fingers travelled through your thigh.

“Be right back then. Love you.”

“Te amo.” (Love you)

You ran towards the bathroom, all giggly from how he was acting, it was so sexy to see him like that. Before you went to take your shower, you got the new lingerie set and the fancy body products he gave you a while back for valentine’s day. Maybe you stayed in the shower more than you planned, mostly because you wanted to be smelling good for him - and pretty. On top of the green set, you’ve put one of his oversized shirts - that didn’t totally cover you, because your ass and thighs were bigger than most girls. 

Walking back towards the open plan kitchen-living room, he was already arranging the sweets and the coffee, but he stopped everything to look at you coming to him.

“Gostosa pra caralho.” (Fucking hot)

“I try to.” You laughed, putting your arms around his neck.

Unexpectedly, he turned you around and bent you on the balcony, coming right behind you. His shorts were so tight that you were feeling him semi hard against you.

“Wearing my shirt, huh? Someone’s trying to call my attention?” 

His hands were travelling around your body and he didn’t have any hurry on exploring your body. He lightly squeezes your breasts when his hands arrive on them, biting his lower lip.

“You’re wearing something under this, aren't you? Say it.”

You took a few seconds to answer him, so that was when the first slap against your ass came. A whimper escaped your lips in shock - but you liked it.

“Say it to me…” His lips got closer to your ear. “Palavras, bebê.” (Words, baby)

“Yes… I’m wearing green lingerie. I bought it today, just for you.”

“Really? I’m the luckiest man on Earth, aren’t I?” He slapped your ass again, with a little more strength than before. “Take off the shirt and show me.”

He gave you space to get up and take off the shirt - which you did at such a quick pace that made him chuckle.

“Such a good girl.” He lifted your chin. “Sit on the counter.”

You complied to his ask and soon he spread your legs and got it in between, holding your hips and starting a passionate kiss, letting his tongue pass over your mouth and colliding against yours, in such a desperate pace, like he didn’t kiss you in months. You tugged his hair a little, not giving him a chance before you started to kiss his jaw, then his neck, letting yourself bite and make bruises that he was going to show himself off to his friends. His low groans were making you wetter by the minute. Drugovich got tired of not doing anything, so he grabbed your face and lifted up, letting your neck and V line be exposed. He was so desperate that he only gave you quick hickies, soon exploring the valley of your breasts, while his thumbs were going against your nipples - the feeling of the fabric against them was making you crazy.

After listening to your moans, he smiled, going lower till the height of your thighs, laying his head there. Felipe slowly pressed a finger against your covered clit, moving in slow circles. That movement got you in surprise, making you squirm under his touch. The kisses on your thighs weren’t helping, you were melting under his touch.

“So wet… Only for me.”

“Only for you, baby.”

Out of the blue, he changed his position and picked you up, taking you to the bedroom. Feeling the soft fabric hit your back gave a good calming sensation, however you couldn’t focus on enjoying that for too long, because he got a silk cloth and brought it to you.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

He tied it on your face, completely taking out your vision - Drugovich was a smart man, he researched online about things he could do and put a blindfold on someone appeared a lot on the websites, so why not? Slowly he took off your lingerie and you could feel his mouth going at the places where the fabric covered it once - he just left the stockings on, he thought it was sexy.

You felt his hands on your thighs, then his kisses and his finger moving your - now bare - clit, it was cold, nothing like your body. Soon, this finger had its tip curled and was going in and out of you. You moaned his name when you felt his tongue on your folds, licking the wetness away and then going harshly against your clit.

The quick but then slow movements of his tongue, followed by some sucking on your clit and his finger pumping on you was overwhelming, the moans and whimpers going out of your mouth were so loud that your neighbours probably heard him give your first orgasm. When he saw that you were overwhelmed with the climax, he pulled away, smiling and slapping both of your thighs.

“Open your mouth, baby.” He held your face and turned it to the side. You opened your mouth, knowing what was coming. “Boa garota.” (Good girl)

He slowly pushed his hard dick against your mouth so you could get used to the feeling of taking him in with a blindfold on. When you got used to the feeling, he started to move his body a bit quicker, grabbing your hair. You knew he was into it because he couldn’t hide his groans, especially the ones that pet names escaped in the middle. His pace was getting faster and rougher - he was basically fucking your mouth and you were loving the sensation of it, just at mercy of his control. You gagged a little when you felt him go deeper, but got used to the feeling, soon small tears were forming at the end of your eyes.

“If I didn’t want to fuck you so much, I would finish like that.” He took his dick out of your mouth, kissing your forehead. 

He left your face against the mattress and your ass up, caressing your bum before slapping a few times - that earned strangled whimpers from you. Felipe went closer to your face, taking the blindfold off and you could notice that you could see yourself on the big mirror that was on the side wall from your room. 

“I want you to see yourself moaning and falling while I’m inside of you.” He said, giving another slap on your ass.

He adjusted himself on your entrance, going in slowly, knowing that you took some time to take him in. The Brazilian didn’t move for a while, waiting for your approval. When you mouthed a “please” he knew that he could thrust into you.

Drugovich started with slow movements, to get you more comfortable. When you felt good enough, you started to move your hips against him, which earned a hard slap on your ass.

“I control the pace.” You stopped moving and let him have all the control.

This time, he was faster, grabbing your hips with both of his hands, going all in for the moment. Your thighs would slap together and the contact made the back of yours get red - that was already sensible from the multiple slaps he gave you throughout the night. Without you noticing, one of his hands went on the middle of your legs, opening up them a bit and teasing your clit - if you were already close to having an orgasm, nothing could stop you now. Since his body was closer to yours, he kissed and nibbled the back of your neck.

Soon you were chanting his name and getting into your climax, that soon triggered his and he came hard inside of you, moaning your name multiple times.

Both of you laid spread on the bed, hugging each other. He left kisses on the top of your head, caressing the side of your body.

“That was good.” He murmured.

“So fucking good.” You chuckled.

“We will do it like that always, it’s just so hot.” He pulled you closer. “Why didn’t we think about that before?”

“I don’t know, but I’m happy we know now.”

“Eu te amo, muito.” (I love you so much) “Thanks for opening up, gatinha.”

“I love you too, Fe. I was pretty nervous, but thanks for being open about it.”

[clu-ven]

Hey there, I've been really enjoying your writing. I saw your "Sleeping with Hunter HC's", and I was wondering if I may request HCs involving sleeping with Wrecker. It's my hottake that he'd be S tier at cuddles. Anyway, take care

apologies for taking so long with this, I couldn't catch a break with college lol😅

550 words, SFW

First things first, sleeping next to Wrecker is like sleeping next to a hot water bottle. This man radiates heat yet will complain he’s cold just so you’ll cuddle him.

If there’s one thing Wrecker adores, it’s cuddles. He needs them to sleep. If you’re not around then he’ll revert back to cuddling Lula, holding the tooka doll snug in his arms.

But if you’re there too then he’ll use one arm to keep you close and hold Lula in the other.

When Wrecker’s asleep, he’s dead to the world, staying in whatever position he fell asleep in and only making small movements throughout the night. You could listen to something on your holopad at full volume and Wrecker will stay in a deep sleep, completely unaware of what’s going on around him.

... but if you accidentally roll out of his grasp during the night? Oh yeah, that’ll make him stir in his sleep, incoherently mumbling as his arm searches for you. The second he finds you and pulls you back towards him, Wrecker settles back into his deep sleep again.

While Wrecker is easy to deal with when he’s asleep, getting him to sleep is a whole other story. 

Thankfully, after a long mission or rotation spent fixing up the ship, Wrecker is usually exhausted and is asleep within minutes. But if he still has a little bit of adrenaline left or if he has something playing on his mind, Wrecker is like a ball of energy, finding it utterly impossible to get to sleep.

He doesn’t stop tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable no matter what position he’s in. 

Some nights as he tosses and turns, Wrecker will snake his arm around your waist and move you around with him as he tries to find a comfortable position. Sometimes that’s simply picking you up and placing you on his chest or other nights, he’ll do a full 180 as he rolls to face the other way, you locked securely in his arms as he does.

He talks a lot too when he’s trying to get to sleep, though his ramblings often have the opposite effect, keeping him wide awake as he tells you all about growing up on Kamino or the time he accidentally sat on Crosshair’s sniper and snapped it in half.

When Wrecker gets like this, he needs you there to steady his mind and help him drift off to sleep, either by rhythmically running your hand along his back or telling him a story of your own.

If the roles are reversed and you’re the one finding it hard to sleep, the last thing Wrecker does is actually help you sleep. If there’s something on your mind, worrying you so much that you can’t relax, the last thing Wrecker wants is for you to be laying in darkness and dwelling on it.

Instead he’ll get up with you and find a quiet part of the ship where you can vent about your worries or simply sit with him as he fills the silence with a mixture of jokes and sincere compliments.

In conclusion, Wrecker is a warm teddy bear who absolutely adores sleeping beside you. Seriously, he would lay in bed all day if it meant having you next to him.

[tinypandacakes]

HIIII i love TK so much and all your writing, but as someone who wants to start writing, are there any tips on how to start? such as how do you end up with really good "show, not tell" descriptions and how did you structure such a good slowburn story without it dragging on? ITS SO GOOD j cant help but ask because a lot of slowburn story drags on but omg i love the pacing of TK, so im just curious how did you structure the story? like each chapter already assigned a part orrrr?

Thank you so much 💕💕 you’re very sweet! I’m no pro by any means, so this is just my opinion/experience and I may ramble a little — but TLDR: my biggest pieces of advice are to read a lot and then write a lot without worrying about if it’s good or not.

More below :p

I’ve written almost 800k words in the last few years, and I’m not thrilled with all of it, especially my earlier stuff. But I’m a better writer after getting it all out, good and bad and “cringe” alike.

Reading is crucial. sometimes I come across things that are SO BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN that it inspires me to be better too. Metaphors and descriptions that make my chest tingle.

I used to feel a bit jealous like “why can’t I write like this? What’s the point of writing if I can’t do it like that?” But then I started honing in on what I liked about it and why, and it helped me shape my writing too! it’s not about copying their exact phrasing, but examining how that author relayed that emotion or sensation and trying to emulate it in your own style. I jot down descriptors and unique and descriptive usage of verbs i come across to remind myself to look at them again later, and possibly incorporate in my own writing.

As far as “show don’t tell” I usually write a draft and then go back and look where the scene feels a bit barren. Literally sometimes it’s just “könig was cooking breakfast. You walked past him silently. You sat down at the table and looked out the window” on first pass just to get the action/placement beats in. The. focus on the five senses and where it makes sense to add scent or taste or sensation. An itch of a tag at the back of your neck when nervous, noticing a loose thread on someone’s sweater, the click of a dog’s nails on hardwood as it moves from the kitchen to the living room, cooking smells, etc. those little things that you would not think much about in day to day life make fics feel more immersive

For pacing, an outline has really helped me. Just numbered paragraphs on a page with incoherent rambling after. each chapter has certain events I went to happen that progress the story. In that outline, I throw in some of those descriptors or phrasing or verbs that I come across or think of, as a reminder to use them during XYz scene.

I’m a very wordy writer and TK is a slow burn (and people have told me they think it’s too slow, opinions will always differ) but ultimately something happens each chapter that either moves the plot or relationship forward. Ideally both, but it usually doesn’t feel like dragging on if each chapter has a goal in mind. Also a I like each chapter to have a satisfying end or a mini cliffhanger, to either give the reader relief that a little plot arc is wrapped up or anticipate the closing of that arc next chapter.

In the end you have to write the story you want. Slow or fast, flowery prose or more blunt and straightforward language. Smutty or gen-fic. Not everyone will like it, and that’s okay. But if you like it, that will come across to readers. Your passion makes the story come together. people will overlook a lot of things if they sense that behind the words — because they want to feel something, too.

Also this resource by peachesofteal has a bunch of really useful links. I use the eye color one a lot :3