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livingsurreal · 27 days ago

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More thoughts and theories about our favorite Necromancer

My darlings, I have too many thoughts and my obsession is running wild. (How I missed you, hyperfocus). If you have read my last meta post about our Emmrich, here it is: First Meta Post

That is not a required read however. I am still wondering why anyone is reading my word vomit U_U

Anyway, I love reading other peoples theories, so please, send me yours. <3 And a lot of thanks and love for all you darlings who make this fandom such a beautiful and nice place. Especially to @jaal-ama-daravv - who makes the most beautiful videos, and writes such wonderful character studies.

Warning, from here on there will be spoilers as well as mentions of sex. If you don't want to read about any of that, do not read the rest.

Also pictures and way too many words. This is a ten page word document, save yourself while you can. I tend to go off on a tangent once I start writing. I am also well aware that not everyone will agree. This is just my personal read on Emmrich.

Now, after my first essay I have some more thoughts on Emmrich and Rook and specifically their intimate relationship.

Emmrich is such an interesting and baffling contradiction. On the one hand he is confident, self-assured, all manners and poise. He is smart, and he knows it. He has special gifts, and he knows it. He is confident without being proud. He likes to teach others without being arrogant. He still likes to learn about new things and is, as far as I’ve seen, never judgmental about different beliefs and ways of life. (Unless someone treats him with disdain or bully him)

He is a man who is confident speaking of his thoughts and feelings and fears. How he just casually drops his thanatophobia is just astonishing. He is honest and open-minded in the best ways.

And then there is the other side of him. The wet kitten side of him. As open and honest as he is about his emotions, when we get to the meat of it, to the scary bit, the real feely bit, he locks up completely. As long as it is surface level (or he can pretend its surface level), everything is up for discussion. But once we reach deeper and touch *love* he gets so scared and refuses to admit and commit to his feelings. And as much *death* scares him, love scares him more.

So how does that influence his intimate relationship with Rook?

According to the banter with Lace “everyone knows about it”. He was rather surprised by that.

That tells us two things:

They were trying to be sneaky or at least keep their private business private.

They failed, massively.

Add to that Laces comment about them moving rather fast (when, where? I would have loved to have seen that. Comments like that just give me the feeling that we should have had some more cutscenes after the dinner date, to show us those two besotted fools).

But back to them moving rather fast. I would guess that they both did a lot of gazing lovingly at each other, blushing, spacing out while watching their darling, stollen kisses in the hallway when they thought no one was watching, stuff like that. Just being to besotted fools.

But moving fast usually includes sex. Lots of needy, sweaty sex. The inability to keep their hands of each other.

That moves us to the question of the day – did they have sex before their coffin time?

Let’s look at what we know about Emmrich. Emmrich is no virgin. That man has experience. He had past lovers. But what he tells us at that sweet diner date – “nothing serious for years.” We know not much else besides his crush on a boy in his youth and his fling with the Orlesian Art Lady. He is not someone to kiss and tell and that is appreciated. That man has class, and we love him for it.

So - nothing SERIOUS for years. If he hadn’t had ANY relationships in the past years, he would have said so. But what he says is that he did, in fact, have UNSERIOUS relationships in the last few years.

I would read that to be somewhere along the “fwb, lovers, affairs, paramours, companions, a fling, a little romance” line. Something not purely, but mainly physically driven. Someone you like and respect, you can go out and have a good time with, have lots of amazing sex with (b/c he is a living being and has his needs). Spending time with people he liked, was sexually attracted too, but nothing as serious as love. A physical relationship. A little thrill, some fluttering, but never that deep.

Not to say that those situationships would not have been romantic. He is (buried under all that resignation) a deeply romantic man. I am pretty sure he went on nice romantic dates with his previous paramours too. That this is something he just enjoys too much. Treating a companion with some quality time, not just in, but also out of the bedroom.

But after he’d given up on his dreams, he did not have any notion of those flings being more than a “enjoy the moment”. There was never the expectation of deeper feelings, beyond friendship, attraction and/or respect. All those romantic gestures were nothing more than a little bit of “play pretend”. To give himself the illusion of true romance, just for a little time.

Take the fact that you can go a “everything you do is creepy but I still flirt with you and I want you to throw me over that tombstone” and his comment on “the attraction of the forbidden”? This is not a relationship born of mutual respect and deeper feelings but out of purely physical attraction. And he is OK with that.

I want to repeat – Emmrich is very much okay with a casual, sexual affair. He does not require love to have a relationship with someone.

And then think about that Johanna calls Rook specifically his “paramour”. Which is a lover, especially an illicit one. This word was very specifically chosen by Johanna. For various reasons, I would think.

For one, I do believe that it is a dig at his dreams of the eternal flame. It’s a dig at him, that Rook is not his love, but his paramour. A lover for a time. To be parted from soon enough. B/c that silly dream of his, as if it ever would become reality.

Second, I think it is a comment on the way his relationships often went, especially in the past years. Those unserious flings of his. Never to amount to anything substantial.

Did he try to have something serious in the past? Oh yes, for sure. But it never worked out. Then he gave up his dream and just let himself have a good time with people he found to be nice and attractive.

To pick up my point of self-sabotage from my last meta post – I’ve come to a point where I believe Emmrich is a kind of chaser. I know someone like that and it’s so fucking tragic.

Emmrich feels deeply and strongly. When he falls in love with someone it’s a lot of emotion. But at that point it’s all dream, want, wish. As soon as someone returns these feelings - those dreams, wants and wishes become reality. And reality is scary. In this wishful dream about the eternal flame, there is no fear. No fights. No loss. But that is not reality. As soon as it becomes reality, he gets scared. Before, his feelings were no threat, because you can’t lose what you don’t have. Once those feelings are returned, there is a clear possibility of losing, of being lost, of being left behind.

Emmrich is not a chaser because he enjoys the hunt. He is a chaser because being loved by someone is scary. So damn scary. So, he starts to pick fights and is looking for excuses. From being the chaser, he becomes the chased. He is hunted by his fears, and his fight or flight instincts go all flight.

After years of this cycle he gives up. Resigns himself to flings and little romances without even thinking of more. Or so he thinks. Dreams like that don’t die, they just get buried.

And I’d think that there was not many, even of those short term flings, lately. His life revolves around work and Manfred.

Now remember he comments on Rook “showing unexpected interest in a new companion”.

First of all – unexpected.

They are a daring adventurer. He thinks of himself clearly as the more boring one, compared to Rook. He never expected any of those flirts. But he is clearly flattered.

Second – companion.

That was such a weird way of saying “hey do you like me?”. This whole “companion” thing does not scream “I have FEELZ for you/you have FEELZ for me” but rather, “I think you might want to spend some quality time with me”.

The possible answers - dashing good looks, kindness, his way of words.

He feels he is fortunate if Rook thinks him good looking. Hallo, Mr. Professor, sir… Have you looked in the mirror lately? Consider that he is meticulously grooming himself, takes his exercises daily in the morning. That man does not like himself aging. I think it is a reminder of how his pending death is a step closer every day. But it shows, to him, that his efforts of taking care of himself are not in vain. Or maybe it shows him that his age does not matter. Rook finds him attractive despite (or because) of his physical age.

Rooks comment on his very charming way of putting things makes him hope his years behind the lectern have proved useful. Hey *years* behind the lectern. Again, this is a way of saying his age is NOT a problem but a benefit.

If Rook remarks his kindness, he answers “you humble me”. It’s the one answer that does not touch his age/experience/looks. It’s a remark on an innate character trait he possesses. Kindness. His whole demeanor in this option shows he is actually touched. And maybe a bit baffled. He did not expect this, at all. Its like he sees his kindness not as an attractive trait. Which he should. He is nice without TM and its sexy as hell.

The next part is his statement “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery… that would interest me, indeed”. This reads to me not necessarily as “do you have feelings for me” but as “do you just enjoy the flirting, or do you want to do more than flirting?”

And oh boy, does he want to do more than flirting. I want to repeat my earlier statement – this man has given up on love. But some little fling with an exiting young adventure who was constantly, awkwardly flirting with him? Hell, yeah.

(I want to remind you that we were able to have mutually enjoyed flirts with Dorian as fem!Inky. You can flirt with someone and still never want to fuck them. And you are also perfectly able to want more than flirting without having deeper feelings. Like sweet, dump Shepaloo said it so eloquently “Lets bang, okay?”)

Again, I want to pick up a point of my last post, that this is all surface level thoughts. I do believe that their emotional attraction and depth of feelings go deeper, from the start. But how often does it take quite a bit of time to realize one’s own feelings. Especially this wonderful, silly man whose modus operandi is running away.

Now, an interested Rook can answer in an open “lets see where this goes” way. Mirroring his rather open idea of a little romance, a fling, some quality time. Something that does not have to end in an eternal flame, but a simple enjoyment and exploration of the moment.

Rook can also reply with a “I think they do.” – What Rook actually says is “I think they already…”

And conveniently Rooks answer here is cut short by our sweet boy Manfred. They get cut short, no matter what answer you choose, but in this specific case, I am convinced this was very much on purpose. What would the whole sentence have been?

“I think they already go way beyond flattery.” (?!?) Something along those lines. But that goes into danger zone. WAY into danger zone.

If Rook had finished that sentence, at that point in their budding romance? It would have been over before is all started. Too much, too soon. Too much for him, period.

Now we have the hard lock – their sweet romantic moment in the Memorial Gardens. And he is smitten. He fell hook, line, and sinker for his own play pretend. Just a little romance, but that man is falling, fast. (Not that he would admit that to himself).

A beautiful date, all arranged by Emmrich, to spend time with Rook. Because a couple should have a quite moment to get to know each other. I mean there were menu cards with gilded edges, ffs. And, oh yes, they were “lets dig into the feelings”, he said couple. He is falling, falling, falling fast. But it still hasn’t hit him, how deep he has fallen for his darling Rook. Poor Emmrich.

Then a fight, where we really see the wet kitten side of him for the first time. A little wet, feral kitten, hissing at the hand that’s trying to feed it.

Emmrich is lashing out for no good reason (or no good reason for anyone but himself). There is no real confidence there but a desperate act of pretending. An iron (slipping) grip, trying to control himself and the narrative. Shoulders squared, back straight, an arrogant stance, raised chin, turned half-away from Rook, and a condescending way of talking to Rook.

Like I said in my last post – he is working his way up to breaking up with them. And he tells himself it’s like ripping off a bandaid. Be strong and confident and say what you have to say, and they will see the wisdom of that.

It’s only that, they don’t. Because there IS NO wisdom in what he is doing right now. They don’t take his bullshit but throw it back at him. They don’t accept his mock excuses.

Look at him here, how he looks down ON them. I can’t recall any other time he looks down on Rook, despite him being a tall king.

Especially the route where Rook throws it in his face that he DOES in fact love them. Speak what he can’t even think.

“I can’t… At my…”

“I can’t love you. At my age…” Why not? Does he not deserve love, just because he is a bit older? It’s just heartbreaking how he views himself.

And again, he lashes out.

“I am perfectly serious.” So is Rook.

“One of us has to pay attention to these things.” As if Rook is not paying attention. They got to the meat and bones of his problem in just a few seconds.

No matter what route you go here, the gist is the same. He is scared shitless, treats Rook like a child, and goes on how the is the only one thinking the important thoughts.

When Rook in reality way ahead of him. They thought about it and came to the conclusion that being with Emmrich is a really good idea.

Rook knew they were falling for someone older than them. (Even if that age difference is just a decade, with a mid-40s Rook.) They knew it, and still went with it. They are not a child who is too inexperienced and stupid to make decisions about their (love) life.

But now, here, at this moment? Emmrich treats them with disdain. Like a silly little person, who does not think things through. He holds himself above them. Physically and mentally. They are too young, he knows better.

And not once has he done that before. He always treated them as an equal. He follows them into the most dangerous situations ffs. He trusts them with his life in a fight against would-be gods.

All that fear and anger at himself that reaches a new high get redirected at Rook.

The next day they are off to Tearstone Island. That night must have been hell. For both of them. But its going to get much much worse.

In any case, Emmrich seems to have come to some conclusion or realization, because on that island? He apologizes.

They both did react very emotionally, but he came at Rook with superiority and, to a certain degree, dishonesty. All fueled by his fear. So that he is the one to take the first step and apologize to Rook instead of doubling down? An important step. As I said in my last post – he NEEDED to be called out. A sweet and nice counterargument would not have had the impact Rooks raw an honest emotion hat on him.

Emmrich “Rook? Darling? I wanted to say-“

Rook “Yeah, about that argument…”

Emmrich “(Sighs) It’s no time to apologize, is it?”

And here we have the most heartbreaking line, in hindsight. “We’ll talk back home, Emmrich. I promise.”

(Narrator: but they would, in fact, not talk about it back home. Because someone would not go home.)

One fight and weeks of horror later, they find themselves in a private crypt and finally they do more than share a kiss.

Now - to the point I originally wanted to explore with this post – is this in fact their first time? (I am sorry, but my brain is a circle and nothing makes sense)

Let’s look at what evidence we have from the cut-scene.

Rook did not know he is an early riser.

That leaves two possibilities:

They never had sex up until that point.

They did have sex, but never spent the night together.

Now what does that mean?

This depends a lot on your personal Rook and how they feel about sex in general. If Rook wants to wait, or is not ready, he will absolutely accept and respect that.

But for the sake of this analysis lets go with the idea that Rook is not opposed to sex at an earlier date.

They never slept with each other

Why? He clearly was not opposed to casual relationships in the past. What would hold him back now? Especially if you recall Laces comment about them moving fast. Why not jump into the bedroom?

Now my first crack theory is that they get interrupted, like every time. (Rook interrupted The Dread Wolf, and now he cursed them to always be interrupted when they want to have some private time)

But now, in all seriousness, maybe it’s just that part of him DOES realize that this goes beyond a very unserious relationship. That they both have deeper feelings, that spark of something greater, something beautiful.

So, he holds back. He does not give his all. He is charming, he is flirty, he takes Rook on dates. But it’s all very technical. Very performative. Yes, he is a very romantic man, yes he enjoys those moments. But there is always a feeling of control.

Those moments when you see him let go a bit (that kiss beneath the eternal lovers, “I think, sometimes you indulge me”), are so beautiful and you glimpse a bit of the man behind those walls.

He has a tell, you see. (I am telling you about it further down)

But generally, he feels very much in control of himself. And to lie with Rook? To go all the way? Too dangerous. Who knows what happens in that sweet moment after la petit mort? What secrets would his lips spill?

2. They slept together, but did not spent the night together.

They do have sex, but sleep alone in their own beds. Casual sex is fine, but to fall asleep in each other’s arms? Too much. Too real. Sex okay, but sleepy post coitus cuddly? Woah, slow down your horses.

So, they have sex, preferably in Rooks bed. First, does he even have a bed? Second, it’s way easier to leave Rooks bed after the act, than throwing them out afterwards.

Oh, and how many reasons he has. Rook needs their uninterrupted sleep; they are stressed and must have proper rest. He wants to get some reading done before he retires. He needs to look after Manfred.

Oh, he is a bad liar, for sure. He is lying more to himself than to Rook. I would think that (if this is the build up to their fight) Rook realizes that he is giving poor excuses.

And the sex itself? A technical 10/10. He knows his anatomy, after all. But his heart is not really in it. He can’t allow himself to. He holds back, keeps a tight lid on his emotions. They both are well spent afterwards, but like so much else, it’s performative. Technically very well executed, but rarely do you see HIM, the real him, behind all that performance. Whenever something slips through, he reels back and closes up.

And then we are in that crypt. Rook was gone for weeks. The last thing they said that night before were words of anger. Rook called him out on his feelings and from that point on there was no possible way of lying to himself anymore. Those feelings were there. They were real. Rooks feelings were real. And those weeks spent in desperation, trying to get them back? Those walls came crashing down.

His true face, when all the walls are gone? You see that face when Rook leads him to the coffin. There is no pretense anymore. No performance. Just him, and all his love for Rook. The amount of emotion the animation team packed into those short moments in the cutscene? Mindblowing. Who ever crafted that expression on his face? They are the GOAT. I watch this part of that scene on repeat, and it never gets old.

So, I told you about how he has a tell, yes? Okay, two actually, but we all know surprised pikachu Emmrich. In that last scene it is resolved in the most beautiful way.

He looks down, when something touches him deeply, when he goes into his feels.

A few (way to many) examples:

And the worst wet kitten look? After the fight, when Rook leaves.

Its a look of shame. Of hurt. This man is hurting so badly.

Now here at the end we have that moment when Rook leads him to the coffin. His face turns down, like before. But here he looks up at Rook. He does not turn his eyes away but looks directly at them. Ahhh my heart.

Now, think about the fact that ROOK is leading in that moment?

In those moments where Rook leads or startles him (or is simply annoying enough so that the truth slips out), you see the most emotion from him.

Rooks flirting startles him, and he has a pikachu face reaction every time.

Their first kiss? Rook leans against the monument, and leans up, telling him without words that NOW is the time for a kiss. How can he not go for a second kiss?

That moment when Rook calls Manfred “our son”? He very conveniently ignores the word “OUR” and goes in defense mode over the word “son”. But called out on his feelings for Manfred? How can he deny them? He has tears in his voice when he says how he would not exchange this moment for anything? A real, deep emotion.

In their fight Emmrich is again all technical, all performance, so logical (or what he sells himself as logic). But Rook wrestles that moment from him and takes lead, calls him out on his bullshit.

In the crypt Rook pulls him up into a kiss and then leads him to the coffin, guiding him, taking him with them.

Most of the other times he takes the lead, very much in control. But the most emotions you get from him, are those times Rooks leads, when he lets go of this tight control over himself, or he is startled in to a reaction. For all the age difference that is played up in their relationship, in the important moments Rook is the one who guides. And he follows where they lead.

Those little moans he makes? If they did have sex before, I bet he did not make those sounds then. Where they did have some incredible sex, now they are making love. Open, vulnerable. He gives in.

And then they fall asleep together. Skin to skin, arms and legs intertwined. Their hands caressing, no sound but that of their heartbeats and soft breaths. Pure and utter contentment. In that moment nothing exists but them. Can you imagine that moment he woke up? The amount of emotions he must have felt then? This need to speak those little words? Those huge little words. He does not say them, not yet. But he is almost ready.

Finally, they stand there, on the battlefield of Elgar’nans madness. And he tells Rook. The last wall falls. Gives the most precious thing he can give to anyone.

“I love you.”

#emmrich #emmrich volkarin #emmrich x rook #emmrook #emmrich meta post #meta post #character study #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #da #datv #dav #surrealthoughts

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bearambles · 3 months ago

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good girl, officer (hamzah)

words: 1.2k

warnings: piv, dom!hamzah, sub!reader, handcuffs, spit, creampie, bad writing >_<

note: the drought is over. this actually sucks so bad and i wrote it in class but erm!! here!! cop!hamzah got me out of my writing slump soooo i’ll hopefully get to requests soon. also im sorry guys its not copying over the pretty girl fic or i would have reuploaded it by now - i wont stop trying though!!

enjoy!!

cold metal presses into your skin as hamzah secures your hands behind your back. his chest inches behind you, the heat of his breath against your neck. you shiver, a small whimper escaping your lips as the handcuffs click in place and he releases your wrists from his grip.

“stay like that, yeah?” he says, his hands moving to your hips, pushing you back against him.

he’s been needy all day. the video he filmed with martin took so long and he’d been texting you non-stop while you were at work.

i can’t wait to see you baby. can’t wait to use these on you.

<1 image>

you’ve never really considered hamzah to be super dominant, and it isn’t always the case. days like these though, when he pent up and desperate and eager, he takes control. uses you like it’s what you’re made for. you fucking love it.

“i asked you a question baby.”

his grip tightens on your hips, his cock hard against your clothed ass. you’re wearing a flimsy t-shirt, a lace bra, and your shortest sleep shorts. as soon as he started with his horny texts, you changed from regular clothes to these. you knew they wouldn’t be on long.

“i will.” you whisper, your face towards the wall.

he grips your chin and makes you look at him, his thumb caressing your skin softly while his grip remains firm.

“good. you look so pretty, ma.”

he kisses you then, soft and sweet, before pulling away to undo his belt. you watch as his pants meet the ground and his cock springs from his boxers. he’s so fucking thick.

after a moment though, he looks up to see you staring, and presses your neck back against the wall. your face smushed against the tile, you whimper. he reaches a hand up past your shirt and bra and slowly kneads a nipple in between his finger and his thumb.

“h-hamzah-“

“i said to stay. that means don’t move. you understand that now?”

you nod, and he moves the hand on your tit down to his length. a few strokes in, he has an idea, and moves to shove two fingers in your mouth. you gag slightly at the intrusion, but quickly realize what he wants. your tongue swirls around his fingers, and he watches.

he pushes them a little further back, until you cough and he takes them out. you pant just barely, a string of drool connecting your mouth to his fingertips. covered in spit, he moves his hand down to his cock and pumps it a few times before lining himself up with your hole.

your shorts are still on and he tugs them down with one hand. you whine and your hands go to reach for the wall, but they’re still together. he notices and reaches his free hand up to grab your wrists and bring them back down behind the small of your back.

“stop being a fucking brat.” he grins in your ear before moving his hand back down to your panties and pulling them aside. without warning, he pushes into you.

“fuck! hamzah-“

“shhhhh i know ma.”

both hands gripping your hips, he slams into you. his cock is practically ripping you in half, but it hurts so good. you whine and his mouth is next to your ear, whispering comforts that contrast his rough movements.

“so good baby. so good.” he’s just word vomiting, you know, but his words add to the growing knot in your stomach. “you’re so fucking perfect.”

even when he tries to be tough and dominant, he can’t help but praise his baby. you look so pretty, face smushed against the wall, your hair messy and makeup starting to run as your eyes water from pleasure. your pussy so fucking warm he thinks he’s gonna die.

the way you take him so well, your body fitting his like it’s what you were made to do. it felt like that in this moment. nothing could feel better than the thick of his cock hitting you deep. his hips smack against your ass as he fucks you.

“please hamzah, please.” your hands start to wriggle in their restraint, desperate to play with your clit. from the moment he put the cuffs on, you were soaked. it was starting to hurt to keep ignoring it.

“what do you need? you want me to slow down?” he asks, the second sentence coming with a halter in his thrusts and his tone a little lighter.

you shake your head and start to move your hips back against him, trying to bring back the pace he’d set.

“noooo…” you whine, and he pulls away completely.

he laughs, just taking in the image of you pressed against a wall, hands cuffed behind your back, crying for more dick.

“jesus christ. you’re that desperate huh?”

he takes the break in movement to reach down and spread your legs with his hands. he watches your core throb, pulsing around nothing, dripping slick. he laughs again, before taking two fingers and shoving them deep.

“oh my god-“ you whimper, jolting in surprise.

he keeps finger fucking you like this for a while, just watching your cunt take his fingers in like they belong there. gripping them both and dripping when you take them out.

when his thumb grazes your clit, you moan. he raises an eyebrow.

“that’s what you wanted, huh?”

you nod furiously.

“use your words.”

“yes. yes, please hamzah.”

“good girl.”

his thumb stays pressed against your clit while his fingers retract, replaced by his cock. the combination is almost too much. he’s back to the tough pace he started with, this time his fingers pawing at your clit.

“i’m so close, fuck, i’m sorry-“ he whines

“s’okay, i am too, just cum, just cum hamzah i love you i love you, fuck-“

he does.

he doesn’t pull out either, knowing you’re on birth control (and also extremely pussy drunk). In fact, he presses the deepest into you when he cums, his seed so deep inside of you that when he pulls out a minute later, it takes a moment for anything to even appear.

your orgasm crashes over you in waves and you can feel your cunt pulsing around him. he feels so good, you could cry.

he watches as his cum leaks from your cunt and his hand flies to his hair. he’s panting.

“jesus. oh my god. that was like- i’ve never cum so hard in my life.”

you giggle. in all fairness, you hadn’t fucked in a week. you both needed it bad.

“you liked being in control, huh?”

he shrugs.

“i hope i wasn’t too much. you can always say stop, you don’t have to-“

“hamzah-“

“no i mean it. like, i know we have the safe word and stuff but even if you just say stop i will and i don’t want you to-“

“hamzah, i know-“

“i know you know but i was just worried i was being too mean or something because i want to turn you on but i also-“

“hamzah can you please uncuff me!”

he stares and you and presses his eyes shut for a moment, laughing softly.

“i’m sorry. yeah. i’m an idiot.”

i hope you guys enjoyed !

#hamzahthefantastic #hamzah x reader #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #hamzahsmut #slushy noobz #hamzah fic #hamzahthefantastic smut #hamzah smut #muffin-berry

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

Note

Hey! I LOVE the comic you posted of the reader going to a club pre-relationship! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 to that of all of them going to a club together. With some jealousy, like when the reader goes to the bathroom on her way back she is getting flirted with by a random guy and the marauders reaction. Feel free to ignore

(Also I adore you comic that make my day every time I have re-read all of them at least 3 times!)

Hi lovely, thank you so much ! This took me forever to get to sorry, hope you enjoy it <3

part 1

cw: alcohol, unwanted/nonconsensual touch

roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Your shriek cuts through the loud music, and you turn to Remus with an open-mouthed grin.

“This is my favorite song!” you shout.

He laughs. In the past half hour, four songs have been your favorite. “Yeah?” he asks.

You nod happily, throwing your hands above your head as you spin. You’re tipsy twirly, surprisingly sprightly considering you’ve downed enough shots to get Remus hammered, and he’s got several inches on you and has been drinking since he was thirteen.

Sirius is in a similar state. Remus and James have been steering the two of you around for most of the night, but now James has put himself in charge of crisis prevention, playing goalie between either of you and the bar.

“Oh be fun, Prongsie,” Sirius wheedles after getting spun around by the shoulders for the upteenth time. “I know you can be fun.”

“I am fun,” James agrees. “I have my most fun when I’m not cleaning up your vomit. Go dance with y/n.”

You’re game for this plan, giving Sirius an enticing smile and moving your hips to the music in a way that makes Remus’ mouth go completely dry. He knows he’s not the only person in this club who’s noticed, but thankfully the little circle the four of you have made in the dance floor stays clear of intruders. Thus far, your prediction has proved correct; no other men have come up to you with your roommates around. He’s not particularly distraught about it.

You seem oblivious to your own allure, laughing when Sirius hurries toward you like a called puppy. You take his hands, letting him twirl you around and then holding your arms up to twirl him in return, and at the chorus, you both jump around so that your hair flies all about. Your laughter is loud and sparkling. Remus sips his drink, entranced.

There are two more favorite songs before you careen towards him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt. He hastily grips you by the elbow, wary of a fall, but you seem to have done this intentionally. You beam up at him, your smile lopsided and far less shy than anything he’s ever seen from you.

“M’gonna go to the toilet,” you tell him, one word leading into the next like they’ve been sloppily tied together with string.

“Oh, okay.” Of its own volition, Remus’ hand coasts up the back of your upper arm, then down to your elbow again. “Do you think you’re gonna be sick, honey?”

Your face screws up as if this is taboo to mention. “What? No.” You make a funny pffting sound. “I’m miles off from that, I’m fantastic, it’s just,” you lower your voice, expression turning grave, “I think it’s time to break the seal,” you tell him meaningfully.

This time it’s entirely intentional, but he also can’t help it. You’re just too cute. Remus sets his hand on the top of your head affectionately, grinning at you. “Alright, love, sounds good.” He looks around for the women’s bathroom, locating it a short distance away. “Want one of us to go with and wait outside for you?” It’s not like he can’t see it from here, but a girl as intoxicated as you probably shouldn’t be going anywhere by herself.

“No, no, I’ve got it,” you say, patting his chest lightly. “Back soon.”

It’s like you’ve disappeared into a mist, the way you fade into the crowd so quickly. It takes Remus a moment to spot the top of your head moving towards the bathroom. You turn around just before you go in, giving him a dazzling smile paired with a dorky thumbs-up.

“Where’d she go?” James asks, holding his drink aloft while Sirius grabs for it. “And what has made you smile like that, Moony?”

Remus makes a dismissive sound, but he feels his face heat as he takes a long sip of his own drink. James’ grin widens.

“Ooh,” Sirius catches on. “What’d she say to you?”

“Nothing. She’s gone to the toilet.”

Sirius’ kohl-rimmed eyes bulge, and James laughs, following his train of thought immediately. “Did she ask you to follow her? I didn’t think that was your style, you rake.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “You’re depraved.”

It’s not long before you reappear, catching Remus’ eye on your way out of the bathroom like you knew he’d be looking. You give him another of those heart-stuttering smiles and head his way, weaving your way through the crowd with a drunken expertise.

A happy glow of anticipation starts up in his chest, but you’re intercepted on the way. Another head, taller, steps in front of you, blocking Remus’ view. He cranes his neck, but he can’t see you.

He must make some sound or simply be emanating discontent, because James is back at his side in an instant. “What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s talking to her. I can’t see her anymore.” He sounds ridiculous, like an overprotective douche, but he can’t imagine one can be too cautious when a drunk girl is surrounded by guys in a place like this. Remus is being purely practical.

“Let’s go get her.” James is on board immediately, taking Sirius by the elbow and beginning to bulldoze his way through the crowd. Sirius grabs Remus’ hand just before the gap closes behind them, dragging him along.

Remus hears you before he sees you.

“Really, I appreciate it, but I’m not looking for anything.” Your voice sounds slightly tight, and Remus knows you well enough to tell by the sound of it that you’re giving whoever you’re talking to one of your big, fake smiles.

A man’s voice says, low and sure, “You don’t mean that—” and that’s as far as he gets, because you interrupt to exclaim, with no small amount of relief, “My friends!”

“Hi, sweetheart,” James says, and you’re right in front of them. You’ve cleaned up your makeup in the bathroom, the eyeliner that had transferred sweatily under your eyes now pristine again, and your smile is indeed giant and thin-lipped as you look between them and the man in front of you, subtly flaring your eyes. He reads the look clearly: Help, please!

Remus looks you over. The man has his hands on your hips and one of yours is around his wrist, a cautious touch. Sirius takes care of that quickly, wrapping his forefinger and thumb around the wrist closest to him and removing it like it’s a piece of trash he found on the street.

“Do you two know each other?” Remus asks. Without permission, his voice comes out gruff and accusatory.

“No,” you say speedily, taking a step towards Sirius. Towards them. “I was just on my way back to you guys, actually.”

“We were talking.” The man looks between the three of them scrutinously, like they’re threats. Remus doesn’t hate the thought of being a threat to this guy.

“Sounded like you were done talking, mate.” James smiles easily. You’d have to really know him to hear the sharpness in his tone.

Sirius snakes an arm around your waist, but you don’t shy from the bold touch. In fact, you lean into him, your smile slowly beginning to resemble the genuine article. “Wanna get another drink, baby?” Sirius asks you, gaze salacious.

“Mhm.” You bob your head eagerly, and he leads you off, James and Remus following. “Thanks for the help,” you tell them as soon as you’re away. “He didn’t, like, do anything, but it was a bit intimidating.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” James replies, expression going a bit stormy now that he’s done feigning lightness. “And I wouldn’t say he didn’t do anything, he shouldn’t have put his hands on you like that.”

“It’s whatever,” you wave it off so easily Remus’ heart gives a little throb. “What’re we drinking?”

“Oh, that was a ploy,” Remus says. “We’re done drinking, remember?”

You pout, and Sirius hugs your side sympathetically (entirely for your benefit, Remus is certain). “You mean we’re done,” he sneers. “You and Prongs get to have however much you want. Who made you king of the beer?”

“I think you did, actually,” Remus says thoughtfully. “At Mary’s New Year’s party, remember?”

Sirius sniffs, presumably because he does not.

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sanjisblackasswife · 7 months ago

Text

Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time

I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.

CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish because I’m projecting 😋, Kisses

Blk!Fem Reader in Mind

“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”

“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”

“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“

And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.

You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.

Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.

It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.

You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.

You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.

You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”

You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.

“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”

Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—

“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”

Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;

“I love you.”

…just like that it was a pause.

It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.

“What?”

Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”

You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.

“Go—?”

He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.

“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”

He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.

“What are you doing, you okay?”

“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”

“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”

Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”

He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.

“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”

It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”

You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“

You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.

“Say it again.”

You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”

“Again.”

“I love you.”

“Again, but in Spanish.”

“Oh brother.”

“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”

“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”

If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closest would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.

Just Satoru.

Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.

You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.

However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“

You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”

Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.

Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.

Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.

Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;

To feel human.

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changisworld · 9 months ago

Text

Skz biggest kinks & pleasures (maknae line)

18+,MDNI, I’m not putting smut warnings as a surprise for readers but it’s all just smut, don’t read if underage

ONLY CONTENT WARNING ILL GIVE IS ONE OF THE KINKS HAVE PISS!!!

Word count;3,335

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

hyung line version here

**this is not proofread so sorry for any errors x**

HAN JISUNG: COCK & BALL TORTURE

I genuinely cannot imagine Han having a dominant bone in his body & also cannot ever imagine this guy being 'vanilla' in the SLIGHTEST!! Whenever you guys have sex, he is always shaking, whining & drooling absolutely everywhere & he hasn't got a single bit of shame.

You both experimented sexually within the first three times you slept together. You have both experimented with vibrators, strap-ons, handcuffs, wax etc & it did the trick.. until it didn't. Han could orgasm from these things, don't get me wrong, but since he had gotten 'used' to these things, he hadn't gotten bored or anything but you could sense he wanted more now.

You have just put the small stick candle onto the bedside table after letting it drip onto his abs & perky pecs as he is handcuffed to the bedpost, his face red as he squirms slightly, humming as the wax dries into his skin, cooling down.

You settle in between his legs before crawling up his small frame, your knees touching his balls as you kiss him (full of tongue & spit obviously) when your knee moves & puts a lot of pressure on his poor, filled balls & he squeals into his mouth. You instantly move your knee & sit up, both of your eyes wide, but for different reasons.

You are scared in case you genuinely hurt him as you look down at the site, but you then notice an even bigger puddle of precum on his lower stomach, his cock twitching & jumping as he blushes, boba eyes staring at the same thing you are.

"Did you like that Hannie?" you question, voice raising at the end, not wanting to do something & scare him. His mouth opens but he stutters for a few seconds. "Uhh, I-I don't know, it's new" he word vomits out, cheeks & ears getting more impossibly red as he looks into your eyes, trying to see your reaction.

You hum at his response before your hand reaches down & you take his balls into your hand before squeezing them, not too hard but there is still force behind it which makes him hiss as his hips jerk up, his cock dribbling at the tip which makes you chuchkle.

"My baby likes having his balls hurt, hmm? what about your pretty penis too, Hannie?" you question as you put more pressure on his balls as you flick the head of his cock a few times, making him thrust his hips as he tries to escape but also get more of the feeling. He nods enthusiastically, tilting his head to hide his reactions as much as he can despite handcuffs making him unable to use his arms to cover his face.

You don't like the way he is hiding his pretty reactions so you slap his dick with the back of your hand which makes his head jolt back to its original position, making you smirk. "Tell me if it's too much, mkay? Sit pretty f'me." you tell him, joking since you know he's not going anywhere. You get off the bed & dig through the bedside drawer & return holding a small cock ring, much tighter than any other one you have both tried, never having the right moment to try it.. until now.

You straddle his thighs, you slowly grind to feel friction as you struggle due to how much the man beneath you is hissing & squirming around but eventually roll the cock ring down to the bottom of his shaft, it beginning to turn a dark reddish/ purple colour almost instantly which makes you both drool, only hans drool actually leaves his lips.

You lean over & begin kissing his soft lips as you begin to lightly dig your nails into his cock as you drag it up & down, digging harder the closer to the tip you get. He struggles to kiss you back & loud but muffled whines escape his lips, his hips jolting & his cock twitching uncontrollably. "P-pinch my b-balls y/nnie, pu-pulease" he begs, hair almost blocking his view due to how much it's sticking to him. "You're so dirty Hannie, so slutty." you remark before beginning to kiss his neck as you do as he asks, sucking a few hickies into his neck as you begin pinching his full balls before slapping them, then repeating the motion & you're convinced you can orgasm from his noises alone.

His bottom lip is the same colour as his cheeks now from all the nibbling on it he has been doing, his eyes watering & his cheeks getting stained from the tears, not even having one thought in his head anymore, which you notice.

You sit up as his legs begin thrashing around, shaking as you use your other hand to start flicking the tip of his cock, residue sticking to your fingers coming from the area as you start to pinch in a rougher way, twirling the skin in your hands as you look at Jisung, in his own world.

"This is all it took to get you all floaty? You're so weird for enjoying this, you're seriously gonna cum from getting your dick slapped?" you laugh as you ask him, not actually meaning what you're saying seeing since you could probably fill a glass with your own juices you're that turned on. You admire Han, not even expecting an answer, drool puddling the pillow as more drool is drying into his chin, just to have even more drool cover it, his cheeks soaked with tears & also sweat.

You put his entire cock in your hand as you tighten your hand around it as much as you can & he lets out a squeal as you begin jerking him off & despite his cock literally purple because of the cock ring, you are convinced the cock ring didn't do a good job as he cums in record time, it spurting out ropes of it all over your hand & his tummy, him rattling the handcuffs, trying to get away from the sensation as his eyes completely roll back, panting heavily.

You let him ride out his high & you quickly remove the cock ring, trying to not overstimulate him too much since its the poor babys first time experiencing this before you lick the cum off his tummy to avoid having to leave him before crawling beside him & letting him nuzzle his face into your chest, before falling asleep almost instantly.

FELIX: MARKING

Nothing turns Felix on more than being able to have a constant reminder you belong to each other & what better way to show one another off when you're not together than having a hickey or two on your necks?

I can't be 100% sure if he enjoys giving or receiving them more but if i had to pick one, I'd say he enjoys giving them more seeing since he has more freedom to choose wherever he wants, unlike you seeing since he is still an idol, meaning you need to be way more cautious which makes him sad since he would do anything to have loads of hickies littered all over his neck.

You are straddled on top of Felix as your lips are locked together as your lips are locked together & he is playing with your puffy clit. You are grinding against his fingers as your eyebrows are furrowed together, letting out small gasps as his fingers are working like magic.

"Fefe, inside, pretty please." you mumble through kisses & who is he to deny you? He slides his ring finger inside your wet walls as he prods around a bit to find the gummy spot & despite him having short fingers, he is good with them & only takes a few seconds to find it & as he does, he slides a second finger inside too, rings touching your lips which makes you twitch due to the coldness.

You start whimpering & you break the kiss & start to grind against his fingers as you clench around him, making him swallow deeply. He takes this opportunity to begin kissing your jawline & working his way down as he helps you work yourself towards the first of probably very many orgasms.

His lips suction to your neck as he lets his teeth take a few playful bites which make you twitch from the slight tickle, making you giggle a bit which he returns. He litters some kisses around the left side of your neck before lightly pushing your head so he can access the right size before doing the same thing.

He begins to suck on your neck, humming at the light scent of the perfume you put on earlier in the day & also because of the taste of your skin, you both think he's addicted to it.

Your fingers wiggle their way into his hair as you lightly push at his head, somehow wanting him even closer to your neck as you melt further into him if that is even possible.

You can feel his teeth grazing every once in a while against your skin which makes you leak even more arousal as you tense up as your orgasm washes over you, Felix holding onto your waist to keep you from falling off his lap due to the amount your legs are wobbling on each side of him.

Once you come down from your orgasm, Felix slips his fingers out of you & you guide his hand up to your mouth before sucking your own juices off of him as he smirks at your reddened face, admiring it.

"So pretty f'me aren'cha babe? Made you a new necklace too, want you to give me some on my thighs, princess. pleeeaaasseee" he flutters his eyelashes to you as he give you his iconic beautiful smile. You hum a 'yes' response before you're sliding off of him, legs still a bit like jelly as you pull his sweatpants down, him raising his hips to make it easier for you, pulling his boxers down too with them.

You begin to jerk him off slowly as you kiss his balls & thighs before you begin nibbling on them playfully, before giving him the same, dark purple marks he just gave you as he lets out hums of approval, giving you butterflies.

SEUNGMIN: PISS

The reason you & Seungmin have always got on well sexually is because of how much you both have in common when it comes to kinks & how much you both love to explore together, & that is how you both eventually found out how hot you both find piss to be during sex. It started off with how much & how dying he was to help you squirt & it just developed from there.

Seungmin is laying on his back with his head on the pillows of your shared bed as you are sitting on his face (another one of his biggest pleasures is eating pussy while barely being able to breath because duh) grinding against him as his tongue is working its magic, pushing you towards your second orgasm within the last five minutes.

You are whimpering out above him, pulling on his hair to get him impossibly closer to your dripping core as his hands have a firm grip on your ass cheeks, fondling them in his fingers as he tongue fucks you.

"Min-Minnie, g'na cum." you push the words out as the feeling begins to bubble over, but before it has a chance to fully do so, he removes his tongue & pushes your hips up so you're now hovering above his face as you basically scream from the frustration as you can feel the almost orgasm dissapearing again.

"You know what I want before I let you cum, baby. Don't be so nervous, we both want it, mkay? Wanna taste you as much as possible. You deserve to let go, so good for me all the time." he says to you in a soft tone as he gives your ass cheek a small slap before letting you sit back on his face.

Despite everything you have tried together, pissing on him has always made you shy, but he always reassures you before, during & after.

He begins to suckle on your clit this time, slurping up all your juices as his spit mixes with it. He lets out small moans & grunts at your taste as one of his hands leave your ass to come around to your lower stomach before he begins prodding at it & putting pressure on it, hinting at you what he truly wants.

You try to hold off for a little while longer but the added pressure makes it impossible & you let go. Your golden stream begins to dribble out of you & straight into Seungmins mouth & face, making him moan at the taste of you, but he can tell you're holding back. He bites your clit & you yelp before your piss begins to spray out, making him hum in satisfaction.

Your moans get twice as loud as they were a minute or so prior as you see your piss now soaking his face & towel beneath you, along with his hair now getting wet, the same as your fingers since they are still weaved through it & your orgasm hits you like a car. Your legs shake around his head as your stream & also orgasm comes to a stop.

Your breathing is erratic as you take deep breaths, hair stuck to your now shiny face. "Such an angel for me y/n" he breathes out, panting as he helps reposition you so you're now on the only dry patch of the bed as he leans in & kisses you, your orgasm & piss soaked all into his chin & cheeks. You taste yourself on his tongue & it makes you moan quietly.

Your hand worms its way down into his boxers but you can feel a big wet, sticky patch which makes you break the kiss & look down & the result makes you chuckle. "You came in you underwear for me Seungmin? I'm honoured." he 'tuts' before beginning to blush. "You expected me to be able to hold off when you just did that to me? You're insane." he murmurs before kissing your neck while playing with your hair.

JEONGIN: OVERSTIMULATION

Is this any surprise at all.. HAVE YOU SEEN HIS FINGERS? they're made for pleasure i swear, they're so long & just hkvedbvbv. I feel like poor Innie is still a bit too nervous to try anything too 'taboo' or 'out there' but the things you have both agreed & have tried together, you both love.

You're on the bed laying on your back as his fluffy hear & gorgeous face is between your thighs for the third separate time that day. He is making out with your clit sloppily as he has three fingers buried inside you, scissoring in & out of your leaky opening, driving you towards your second orgasm from just this session alone & to say you're a moaning mess is an understatement.

You're uncontrollably squirming on the bed & your legs are thrashing around as you're babbling random swear words & his name as but he is keeping you grounded by having a firm grip on your pelvis with his free hand as your fingers are pulling on his pretty locks.

"Innie, gonna cum again." you whimper out as your back arches off the bed as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your pussy not getting a break even for a second as Jeongins fingers keep pistoning in & out of you & his tongue simply swallows your juice & orgasm while continuing the same pace.

Your orgasm fades but the sensation doesn't. If anything, it intensifies as the over sensitivity takes over, which makes you begin to hiss & grumble. "Too-too much Innie." you pant as your fingers do their best to pull his hair & face out from your dripping hole. "Cmon, y/nnie.. you've only orgasmed twice today, can't even just take one more, hmm?" he questions, knowing you can't say no. You've already orgasmed twelve times today & you both know this but he knows you'll do anything to please him.

You give a weak nod & he gives you a cheeky smile before diving straight back in, fingers speeding up & him taking your swollen bud back into his mouth, suckling on it before moving down to make out with your other set of lips. Your squeals are bouncing off each wall in the house no doubt & your third orgasm of the past twenty minutes washes over you as you begin trembling & shaking so much Innie decides to take pity on you & unlatches himself as he gives your swollen pussy a small slap.

You are in the middle of trying to get your breath back as Jeongin grabs a pillow & places it next to you before moving you so you're hips are now resting on it & your ass is facing upwards.

"spread your legs a bit for me, hunny. You can take it, can't you? I'm so hard for you y/nnie." he groans out as he jerks himself off behind you as he helps you move your legs just enough so he can slot himself in between as he spits onto his cock for extra lube as he drags the tip of his cock up & down your burning sensitive folds, making you hiss.

He begins pushing in & the hair gets caught in your chest as he bottoms out, releasing an animalistic groan. Once he feels you clench around him a few times, he begins to start a sharp pace & you begin to bite the duvet to try silence your screams.

His long cock hits the same G-spot that his fingers have been abusing all day & it makes you yelp as you reach back & push your hand against his pelvis, trying to stop him from going as deep but he quickly yanks your wrist away before holding it against your lower back as he leans over you, back to chest as he moves your hair out of your face to kiss your cheeks as he keeps fucking into you.

"I-innie too- too much, too big, s-slow down." You whimper as your eyes scrunch closed, trying your best to hold on as much as you can to give Jeongin the chance to orgasm. "You can do it hunny, just stop running from it n take it mkay? You're clenching so tight around me y/n, so good." You get all flustered & get butterflies in your belly at his words & you keep whining as your toes begin curling as your now forth orgasm hits you & Jeongin lets out a deep moan as he cums too after feeling how tightly you clench around him & you feel the warm liquid fill you which makes your orgasm go that extra bit further.

You both lay like this for a minute, catching your breath back before he pulls out & you let out a deep sigh. Jeongin begins to move off of you but you reach & take him by the arm & using the rest of your strength to pull him back down. "stay like this, you're like a big weighted blanket." you mumble out, eyes feeling as heavy as rocks.

Jeongin chuckles before kissing your cheek but getting off you regardless & shuffling down back to your pussy, looking at the cum dripping out along with your slick. "I'll have my dinner first then we can cuddle as long as you want, jagi, okay?" he giggles before sticking his tongue out & beginning to kitten lick your pussy again. You knew this is a long night.

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sk8erboyz · 15 days ago

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i’m going to word vomit all my thoughts about the wild life finale here and it’s going to be incoherent until it stops consuming every corner of my mind and i sit down and organize my thought 🤞🏼 until then enjoy my raw unfiltered thought processes

he won by going against the mechanic !! he remained calm and rational and never died to a single wildcard !!! all of his deaths were by people not the mechanic !! the game did not win joel did !he did not go absolutely insane and give in the red haze and he won !!! by not doing what the game wanted !! which means the only curse not broken this season was the winners curse !!!

at every single point in the series everyone is collectively trying to kill joel because he just won’t seem to die but joel is absolutely convinced he’s made friends and is just happy to have friends this season and keeps giving people stuff and then they TRY TO KILL HIM and fail and he DOESBT EVEN NOTICE

and then they die trying to kill joel and he gives them diamonds !!!

joel’s pov by itself is so funny because he’s just a guy in his car with his family having a great time !! and then you watch everyone and it’s like oh. joel is the common enemy here- everyone used gem keeping him cool to their advantage. they used his trust and took whatever joel would give them and blew up his car and stole from him and every time he forgave them everyone turned around and just began plotting against him again. the only person he had was gem who gave her life so many times to the people who betrayed joel anyways. because gem never died to a wildcard and no one every actually got a kill on her, all her lives were lost either by a mob or she let someone take her life so they could gain one (like jimmy, skizz, mumbo) and then at the end joel has survived and he believes he still had friends (jimmy scar & lizzie , etho , grian ) so he goes to them one last time to try and gear up and protect everyone from the G’s who were the longest standing alliance and had the most people, and all the people who he thought were his friends only tried to kill him when he turned his back

and he still won !!!!! it was him and grian against the whole rest of the server and grian was just using him !’ gem was gone and joel couldn’t stay calm anymore because he couldn’t go back to gem when something happened!! so grian stroked joel’s ego and told him he could win and let joel fight everyone and take the rest of the server out and when he did joel went looking for grian and said something along the lines of ‘grian we did it!’ only to turn around to grain shooting at him which makes sense of course but then when you go watch grian’s episode you see then grian has been trying to snipe joel the second every one else was dead but just kept missing and he started panicking g because he couldn’t make the shot and then tried being friendly with joel again

he’s literally THE wild card ! through every series he is aggressive and unpredictable and dangerous and of COURSE the game he wins is when the game starts being aggressive and unpredictable and dangerous but who knows that game better than joel? he beat the game and its own mechanic!!

he is also the only happy winners pov we’ve had!!! every other winner won in a moment of grief and betrayal and anger and in joel’s eyes he won through persistence and staying with his family (which is both dramatic and situational irony because he didn’t actually. he won by clawing his way through what everyone expected of him and everyone else being so blinded by their rage instead of him. he saw all his flaws in past winners and all his past lives and everyone in this season and said no that will not be me this time) joel was also the only winner fighting without a cause. he was just there for the fun of it. for the mindless violence. he never lost anything because he played the game well. his car got blown up but it was always an easy fix. he didn’t pay any mind to his broken alliances so he had no time or knowledge to feel grief or betrayal for them. he and gem were together until the end and never betrayed each other every other winner fought for a person (grian fought against and for scar, scott won by seeking revenge against ren for killing pearl, scott blew himself up in double life so that pearl wouldn’t have to fight anymore, martyn went on a rampage when ren was killed, scar was completely alone and fought for himself and his survival because he had nothing and didn’t even realize when pearl had died) joel is just. in it for the rush- he has no reason for the violence and nothing to loose and nothing to gain

joel is the only winner who’s final death wasn’t in grief either. his final death was meant to be a trap he set up that he never got to use and he ran to it at the end laughing and excited and it failed. the trap failed- and he lived and laughed and ender pearled around until he died. and i saw one post in passing that was like ‘the server took care of him’ and it DID. it’s like this game was perfectly crafted for him- because of course joel wouldn’t die do something as chaotic and unbalanced as the wild cards. who would joel be to die to something he understands so well and channels in every move he makes? he thrives in the chaos and watchers saw him and choose him

grian had a LOT more control in this season than previous because of th wild cards and it’s feeding my watchers symbolism. he is trying to take the reins of the games from the watchers and reduce the violence and grief his friends have to go through so what to do the watchers do? they take his power away. he’s still in control on the wild cards of course, but how well can they work when the watchers are guiding a wild card of their own? and then skizz and mumbo both died due to joel (both indirectly- they died on the tower while trying to get more lives using the minecart trap) and in the end the only person grian is left with is joel who somehow managed to twist every wild card to his advantage and never made as much a misstep this season. ans grian has been too cocky this season, almost playing god with people coming to him for information about the wildcards and how to survive them. and in the end grian does exactly what the watchers wanted anyways and guides joel to victory despite still trying to ruin their game to the very last second and become the first two time winner

anyways that’s all GOOD JOB JOEL !!!! MY WINNER !!! FAST CAR FOR THE WIN

#and if you thought wl was bad talk to the WALL #not on my blog #this is wild life appreciation CENTRAL #and if you thought joel’s win was boring i hope i changed ur mind ..#wild life smp #wild life spoilers #wild life series #life series #trafficblr #joel smallishbeans #smallishbeans #wlsmp #wl smp #wl smp spoilers #wl spoilers

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redvexillum · 20 days ago

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A/N: So this is smut with Lute, but it is inherently an Adam x Reader story. FoxSinner!Reader makes a second appearance! Also, @peach-flavored-flambe how dare you infect me with the word "boop" and its uses! It somehow made it in the story!

RedVexi Sickness Update #1: Fevers, chills, coughing, lack of sleep, did I hit my peak for my illness? Will tomorrow be better?

SUMMARY: For the hundredth time, you broke up with Adam, this time telling yourself it was the last straw. But as you stormed away, you encountered an angel, Lute, who seemed to have an intimate past relationship with your boyfriend—err, ex-boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow, you both ended up trying to prove who was the better lover for Adam.

TAGS/WARNINGS: f!reader, fox sinner!reader, established relationship with Adam, face slapping, one-sided love/interest, Lute hates reader a lot, hate fucking, sex toys, complicated relationship, love triangle (sorta), strap-on, double penetration, overstimulation, degradation kink, reader is emotional and is a bit…ditzy

After the dizzying sounds of laughter, broken glass, and blaring music subsided, your once-cozy home looked like a war zone. Torn red and green streamers hung limp like office workers past clocking out time, and the smell of stale beer clung to the air like a mocking reminder of the chaos. You stood in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes narrowing as they zeroed in on the offending culprit sprawled across your floor.

Adam.

He lay there in nothing but white briefs, his stout body stretched out amidst a halo of crushed beer cans—a parody of snow angels. His mouth hung open slightly, and a faint snore rumbled from his throat, utterly unbothered by the destruction left in his wake. Rage bubbled up inside you, sharp and hot, as your tail swished behind you with dangerous precision.

“Get. Up.” The words escaped your clenched jaw like venom, your teeth grinding together as your ears flicked back. When his response was nothing more than a particularly loud snore, you growled, your patience thinner than the ice you were about to shove him onto.

With a sharp jab of your finger into his side, he jolted awake, snorting loudly.

“Wha—huh?” Adam blinked blearily, his crimson eyes squinting against the dim kitchen light. His hand instinctively raked through his dishevelled brown hair, and as his gaze focused on you, a slow, infuriating grin spread across his face.

“Babe,” he slurred, his voice a drunken drawl, “looking good.”

Your lips curled into a sneer, your eyes flicking down to the tent now prominently pitched in the front of his briefs. Heat rose to your face, though it had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with seething irritation.

“Seriously, Adam?” you barked, your voice rising sharply. His wince only spurred you on. “I told you so many times I didn’t want to have this goddamn party!”

“Relax, babe,” he groaned, his large frame unfolding as he stood. He swayed slightly, towering over you as he lumbered closer. Then, with all the grace of a drunken toddler, he poked your stomach with the tip of his… erection.

“Boop,” he said, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

You froze. Your brain struggled to process the sheer audacity of it all. The boop, of all things, was what made your eye twitch. Of course, Adam—your overgrown, immature boyfriend—had adopted the most cursed word in the human vocabulary. And now, he was weaponizing it against you.

Your gaze flicked up to his smug face, then down to the persistent offending appendage. “Adam,” you growled, your voice low and dangerous. “Stop. That.”

But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t. “C’mon, babe,” he teased, poking you again, his grin widening. “I know what's gonna help you unwind.”

For a fleeting moment, you considered murder. Then your eyes flicked to the aftermath of last night’s disaster—the vomit stains, the overturned chairs, the shards of glass glittering like cruel little stars—and back to Adam. Maybe he could make it up to you. Maybe a good dicking would at least take the edge off your frustration.

“Fine,” you bit out, your voice heavy with resignation. “Get your ass on the bed. Now.”

Adam’s grin morphed into a triumphant fist-pump as he stumbled off toward the bedroom, his childish glee almost endearing—almost.

As you stripped off your clothes and crawled onto the bed, Adam asked you to roll onto your stomach. With a grumble, you obliged, expecting things to escalate quickly—but no. The man had the audacity to leave the room. You lay there, face buried in the pillow, equal parts annoyed and confused. Just as you were about to yell, he waltzed back in like nothing had happened, carrying a sandwich, of all things, and climbed back onto the bed. Well, it wasn't the first time he ate while having sex.

Your body, traitorous as ever, was already eager for what was coming. But when he grabbed the base of your tail, earning himself a startled squeak, and slipped one fat finger into your asshole, the mood took a sharp turn. It wasn’t the act itself that sparked your anger—it was his commentary.

“Boop,” Adam said with zero shame.

Clenching your ass tight around his intrusive digit, you whipped your head around, eyes blazing. “Did you just say boop again?” Your voice dripped with incredulity.

The simmering irritation from him ruining your Christmas plans boiled over. And yet, this? This was the final straw.

You glared at him, catching the unmistakable sight of your precious BLT sandwich in his free hand. He was casually munching on it while simultaneously rubbing the shaft of his cock against your slick folds.

The crumbs.

The audacity.

The absolute disrespect.

“Oh, that is IT!” you screeched, wriggling away from him with a feral determination. Your tail lashed, your ears flattened, and you practically threw your clothes on, rage igniting every cell in your body.

Adam barely looked up, still chewing, as he watched you with wide-eyed confusion. “Wait, what? Babe, what’s wrong?”

You narrowed your eyes at the crumpled wrapper in his other hand, your name scrawled across it in unmistakable all-caps. Something within you snapped, the chaotic storm of emotions inside suddenly going deathly calm. Your voice was eerily steady. “We’re done.”

His chewing slowed as the realization hit. “What?” he mumbled through a mouthful of your sandwich. Crumbs spilled onto the bed as he gestured vaguely. “Now, that’s not very demure of you.”

A single flick of your ear and a twitch of your tail were all it took for him to clamp his mouth shut. You levelled him with a glare that could have reduced him to ash.

“Fuck you,” you said with venomous finality, flipping him the bird as you stormed out.

Behind you, Adam sputtered, sandwich still in hand. “Wait—hold on—was it the boop?”

The icy air of the outside world hit your face like a slap, but it did little to cool your raging emotions. You marched a block away before stopping abruptly, your heels grinding into the pavement as frustration boiled over.

Why the hell were you the one to leave? That was your home. Your territory. Yet here you were, storming the streets of Hell like a runaway instead of standing your ground. Pride, too wild and untamable, kept you from turning back. If you went back, you knew what would happen.

What it always happened.

You’d get pulled into his orbit again, your resolve folding over like a wet newspaper.

But not this time. This time, you were going to be strong. You were going to stand by your decision.

And yet…

Your ears twitched, straining to catch the sound of heavy footsteps behind you. Your heart lurched every time you glanced over your shoulder, hoping—wanting—that he’d followed you. Each time, you were met with the lack of his presence. The pit of disappointment that formed in your stomach was as crushing as it was infuriating.

You hated yourself for wanting him to come after you. For needing it.

The endless cycle of hope and disappointment gnawed at your resolve, each turn of emotions feeding into a bitter spiral of self-loathing. You shoved your hands into your pockets and pressed forward, your footsteps echoing into the streets full of drunk people after celebrating the winter festivities.

You didn’t notice the shadow until it was too late.

A hand yanked you into a dark alley, slamming you against the rough brick wall. The impact knocked the breath from your lungs, and you struggled to regain it, glaring up at your assailant.

“What the fu—”

Your words died in your throat as your gaze locked with piercing dark eyes framed by moonlit silver hair. The presence of the figure before you felt suffocating, oppressive. Your back straightened instinctively, adrenaline coursing through you.

Why the hell was there an exterminator here?

Ever since the Princess of Hell’s infamous battle with the angels, exterminations have been cancelled. It was a victory that dominated every news outlet and social media feed for days. This shouldn’t be happening.

“Apologize to him,” the angel growled, her voice as sharp as a blade. Her fingers dug into your shoulders, her strength bruising.

“What?” you blinked, your mind scrambling to process the absurdity of the demand.

“Apologize to Adam.” Her teeth bared like an animal ready to rip into prey. “How dare you show such disrespect to the Commander?”

“Commander?” Your brow furrowed, the word hanging in the air like a grenade about to detonate. “The fuck are youtalking about?” you screeched, your voice rising in disbelief.

Your tail tucked between your legs instinctively, though you weren’t scared—at least not entirely. Wary, yes. Confused beyond reason, absolutely.

“Let me go,” you sneered, baring your own teeth as your ears flattened against your head.

Her grip tightened. The world felt as though it had tilted, dragging you into a nightmare where none of this made sense.

Her nails dug into your shoulders like talons, sharp enough to sting but not break skin. “You should be worshipping the very ground he walks on,” she hissed, her voice trembling with fury. Her dark eyes burned with unfiltered rage, a mix of contempt and disbelief. “Don’t you realize who you’re even with?”

The words hit like a slap, and for a moment, your brain struggled to process them. You’d never asked Adam about his past—it didn’t matter to you. He was Adam, your lazy, ridiculous, infuriating boyfriend. But now your mind raced, piecing together fragments of information you’d ignored.

Was that pathetic excuse of a man the Commander of the fucking angels?

The thought short-circuited your brain. Your world tilted dangerously, but years of survival instincts kicked in. You compartmentalized, shoving the revelation into a mental box labelled "Deal With Later." Right now, you needed your wits about you.

“Let go,” you gritted through clenched teeth, twisting your body to break free. Her grip was vice-like, but adrenaline gave you the edge. With a sharp yank, you ripped her hand off your shoulder. “It’s none of your business anyway,” you snapped, lifting your chin defiantly.

A surge of satisfaction bloomed in your chest as a flush of frustration spread across her perfect, angelic face.

She crossed her arms, her lips curling into a cruel smirk. “I don’t see what’s so special about you,” she sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “I bet you’re a pity fuck. What did you do? Beg him to touch you because no one else would?”

The taunt was so petty, so juvenile, that it reminded you of Adam’s own infuriating antics. You knew you should walk away, let it roll off you like water. But irritation flared, hot and sharp, fuelling the pettiness surging through your veins.

You whirled around, planting your hands on your hips and mirroring her stance. “And let me guess,” you shot back, your voice thick with venom, “you begged him to fuck you, and he probably laughed in your face.” You let your gaze drift up and down her figure, daring her to react. “What was it? ‘No thanks, not even in your dreams’?”

Her low growl sent a chill down your spine, but you refused to let her see it. Her black spandex suit, patterned with feather-like designs along the collarbone, left nothing to the imagination. A dark wave of jealousy clawed its way into your thoughts.

Did Adam fuck her too?

The bitter thought lodged itself in your mind, feeding your insecurities. You hated how easily jealousy and self-doubt wrapped their fingers around your pride. You knew your flaws—how you hid your vulnerability behind arrogance and defiance. The awareness of your own weakness only deepened the bitterness.

But in Hell, weakness was a death sentence. So you squared your shoulders, tilted your chin up, and faked confidence as you’d always done.

“Oh, trust me,” the bitch purred, her smirk widening into a grin that made your blood boil. “You can only dream of how fucking amazing our sex was.” Her words were a dagger, twisting deep.

You closed your eyes, inhaling sharply as you repeated the mantra in your head. Don’t take the bait. Don’t take the bait. Don’t take the bait.

But, like always, you did.

The dingy sex hotel reeked of sweat, desperation, and bad decisions. The neon-red light from the sign outside bled through the thin curtains, bathing the room in an unsettling glow.

You rubbed your sore cheek, the skin still smarting from where Lute—as she introduced herself—had punched you. The memory flashed in your mind: the sharp crack of her fist meeting your face, your vision blurring for a second before the red-hot rage kicked in.

Now here you were, sitting on the edge of a creaky bed in a room you’d paid for, wondering how the hell things had escalated this far.

Lute lounged against the opposite wall, her arms crossed, a victorious smirk plastered across her face. “Feeling better, sweetheart?” she cooed mockingly, her tone laced with condescension.

You gritted your teeth, resisting the urge to lunge at her again. This wasn’t over—not by a long shot.

The moment Lute smugly mentioned she’d fucked Adam—your Adam—a tidal wave of possessive fury surged through you, so consuming it left no room for rational thought. Words turned into shouting, shouting turned into cursing, and before long, the two of you were rolling on the ground, nails clawing, legs tangling, and pulling hair like feral animals. Somehow, in the chaos, the argument shifted into a challenge: who was the better fuck?

And the only way to settle it? To fuck each other.

Now, standing stripped bare in the cheap hotel room, the gravity of what you’d agreed to hit you like a freight train.

Holy hell… We’re all such idiots.

The thought barely formed before Lute grabbed the back of your hair, her fingers tangling cruelly in your locks. Without warning, she dragged you into a kiss so heated and rough it stole the air from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle; it wasn’t sweet. It was teeth and dominance, sharp bites against your lips, her smirk pressed against your desperation.

And you hated yourself for moaning into it.

The pain from her grip on your hair sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, mixing with the heat pooling low in your belly. You pressed against her without thinking, your breasts flush against hers, nipples rubbing together in electric friction. Her skin was impossibly hot, searing into yours, and when her thigh slipped between your legs, pressing firmly against your dripping core, a strangled cry tore from your throat.

“Look at you,” Lute sneered, grinding her thigh harder against you. Her voice was low, dripping with condescension. “So fucking wet from just a kiss. You’re pathetic.”

“F-fuck you,” you managed to spit out, though the words trembled under the weight of your moans.

Lute shoved you backward onto the bed with effortless strength. Before you could process, something heavy and cold hit your breast—a glittery pink dildo falling unceremoniously onto the sheets. You stared at it in disbelief.

“What the hell is this?”

“Start fucking yourself,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. She stood tall, her posture imperious, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and superiority. “I’m not done getting ready, but I want a show.”

When you didn’t immediately move, her smirk darkened. “What’s wrong? Can’t even make yourself cum without help, you useless little slut?”

Her words sent a pulse of heat straight to your core, and you hated the way your body reacted to her degradation. Your thighs quivered, your wetness betraying you. Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the toy with shaky hands. “I’ll show you why Adam chose me again and again,” you shot back, though the trembling in your voice betrayed your arousal.

The dildo was thick, almost intimidating, but the wetness between your legs made it easy to press against your entrance. Slowly, you pushed it in, relishing the delicious stretch, biting your lip to stifle the moan threatening to spill out.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimpered, adjusting your hips to take the length deeper. With one hand, you pumped the toy in and out, your slickness making obscene sounds that filled the room. The other hand teased your nipples, pinching and twisting until they ached in the best way.

Lute stood across the room, donning a strap-on that was almost comically large—angry red with veins that made it look impossibly real. Her toned body gleamed under the dim light, her breasts full and her nipples hard as she watched you writhe on the bed.

“Is that all you’ve got?” she taunted, her voice a low growl.

You ignored her, focusing on the pleasure building inside you, pumping the toy faster and faster. The bed creaked beneath you, your body arching as you chased your release. “Oh, fuck,” you gasped, your voice rising. “I’m gonna—gonna—”

A sharp, stinging pain snapped you out of your haze. Your clit throbbed in shock as your eyes flew open.

Lute stood over you now, her strap-on gleaming, her manicured hand raised from where she’d just slapped your sensitive flesh. “Not so fast,” she drawled, her voice thick with amusement.

Before you could recover, her hand came down again, the sharp sound of the slap echoing in the room. Your back arched involuntarily, a strangled mix of pleasure and pain spilling from your lips.

“Beg,” she demanded, her voice dark and dripping with authority. Her body towered over yours, her confidence radiant, as if she had already won.

“Ah!” The cry tore from your throat as your back hit the mattress fully, legs spread wide, the dildo a relentless invader as your hips bucked against it, desperate for more. Your body moved on instinct, shamelessly chasing the aching need pooling in your core.

“Look at you.” Lute’s voice dripped with smug satisfaction, her sharp smile cutting through the haze clouding your thoughts. Her fingers were precise, cruel, landing another slap against your throbbing clit. The sharp sting reverberated through your body, a wicked cocktail of pain and pleasure that left you gasping.

“I knew you were a fucking slut,” she hissed, leaning closer as her eyes bore into yours. The insulting words should have made you burn with shame, but instead, they sent another wave of heat rushing through you. Her confidence was suffocating, intoxicating.

In retaliation—or maybe submission—you bit down on your lip, muffling a throaty moan as your back arched off the bed. The dildo inside you pulsed against your walls, each thrust filling you to your limits. The obscene squelch of your arousal echoed in the room, louder and more frantic as your hips moved faster. You were so close, your body trembling with the promise of release.

Lute, as if sensing your impending climax, doubled down. Her hand struck your clit again and again, each slap harsher, sharper, driving you to the edge. The sound of flesh meeting flesh melded with your cries, creating a symphony of debauchery.

“Oh, fuck!” Your scream tore through the air as the dam broke. Heat burst from your core, a gush of liquid spilling out of you and coating both Lute and the mattress beneath you. Your cries morphed into incoherent moans as you kept pumping the dildo, riding the waves of your orgasm. “Yes, yes, yes—more, more, more!” The words spilled from your lips, uncontrollable, desperate.

“Fuck, you make such a disgusting mess,” Lute spat, though her flushed cheeks and heaving chest betrayed her own arousal. Before you could recover, she grabbed your wrist, ripping your hand away from the dildo. She pressed its base deep into you, forcing the tip to kiss your cervix.

The sharp intensity of the stretch sent a strangled cry out of you. “Oh, fuck!” Your hands clawed at hers, trying to ease the overwhelming pressure, but she pinned you in place. Her free hand found your nipple, twisting it with cruel precision.

“Look at you,” she sneered. “You can’t even handle this, and you think you’re worthy of him?”

“Fuck you,” you gasped, your body betraying you as the pain began to blur into pleasure.

“I bet this isn’t enough for you, you insatiable whore,” she growled, her tone laced with venom. Without warning, she flipped you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up sharply.

The familiar position sent a spark of recognition through your fogged mind. This was how Adam liked to take you—how he knew you liked it. A pathetic yowl escaped your lips when Lute grabbed your tail, the tug sending a jolt of pain and pleasure through your trembling body. Your saliva dribbled down your chin as your cheek pressed against the mattress, your body arching into her dominance.

The dildo inside you felt impossibly large, your walls fluttering around it as anticipation coiled tightly in your belly. You hadn’t taken two cocks in so long, and the idea alone had your pussy clenching around the toy.

Lifting your head slightly, you glanced over your shoulder. Lute’s flushed face, her eyes dark with lust, zeroed in on you like a predator. Her gaze lingered on your exposed ass, her intent clear.

Swaying your hips, you smirked. “Oh, trust me,” you purred, your voice dripping with provocation. “Adam—” Her expression faltered slightly at the name, a flicker of insecurity cracking through her mask.

“Adam loves to fuck my ass,” you continued, dragging the words out slowly, savouring her reaction. You began to move the dildo in and out of your dripping cunt with deliberate slowness, moaning loudly for effect. “He can’t get enough of my pussy and my ass.” You arched your back further, your hips pushing up enticingly. “Isn’t that why he’s constantly fucking me instead of you?”

The words were a dagger, aimed to wound. And by the way Lute’s lips curled into a snarl, it had struck its mark.

A sharp slap echoed through the room, the sting rippling across your skin and leaving behind a fiery warmth. The pain dissolved almost as quickly as it came, replaced by the shocking, relentless intrusion of Lute filling your tight ring of your ass. She didn’t ease her way in—she claimed you with a force that left you gasping. The stretch burned deliciously, a stark contrast to the rhythm of her hips as they surged forward with unrelenting purpose.

You felt overwhelmed and in response you moaned, low and throaty, your body arching into hers. The obscene slickness of your drool coated your lips, dripping onto the sheets as every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you. She filled you completely, both cunt and ass stretched to their limits, her movements precise yet feral, striking every nerve that made you tremble.

“You really thought you could leave him?” Lute growled, her voice a mix of derision and lust. Her nails bit into your hips as she yanked you back into her thrusts, burying herself even deeper. “That he’d come crawling after you, begging like some love-struck fool?”

Her words were as sharp as her movements, cutting into the haze that had overtaken your mind. Emotions churned wildly—shame, desire, anger—all tangled together in a chaotic storm you couldn’t control. Your body, however, had no such conflict. It betrayed you completely, you gripped the dildo in your slick folds and moved in time with her pounding thrusts.

“Adam!” His name tore from your lips in a raw, guttural scream. It wasn’t a conscious decision; it was instinct, a plea from a place deep within you. Sobs wracked your chest as pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave, your pussy convulsing around the thick toy. The orgasm was devastating, a reminder of how thoroughly he’d ruined you—mind, body, and soul.

The room fell eerily silent as you lay there, trembling, your breath hitching in uneven gasps. Lute’s hands never faltered. She rolled you onto your side again as if you weighed nothing, her strength unnerving yet exhilarating. She grabbed the dildo from you and moved with a slick, obscene rhythm, each thrust sloppy and wet. You clawed at the sheets, your body pinned beneath hers as she drove you further into submission.

There was no reprieve. Lute’s lips descended on your swollen clit, her tongue working circles that made your thighs quiver. Every nerve felt like it was on fire, the sensations building to an unbearable crescendo. Tears slipped from your eyes as your body jolted under her expert touch, writhing as waves of pleasure blurred the edges of your consciousness.

“Ah… ahh…!” Your cries were incoherent now, reduced to desperate, broken sounds. Lute’s stamina was as merciless as her demeanour—she never faltered, her thrusts rhythmic and punishing, her tongue a relentless torment against your most sensitive flesh.

Time lost meaning. The room dissolved into nothing but the wet, slick sounds of your bodies and the heady scent of sex that filled the air. Your legs trembled as exhaustion tugged at the edges of your awareness, but even as your body began to give out, she didn’t stop. She wouldn’t stop.

Her stamina rivalled his. No, it mirrored his. And with that realization, dread and anticipation coiled in your stomach. You knew she would push you past every limit, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you until you had nothing left to give. Even unconscious, you were certain she’d find a way to make you submit.

Your body burned with a pleasure so intense it felt sinful—like a divine punishment crafted for a sinner like you. Maybe you deserved it, you thought, the fleeting notion lost in the cocktail mixture of sensations. You were too far gone, too consumed by the overwhelming heat, the slick press of her body against yours, the ceaseless rhythm that stole your breath and fractured your mind.

And then, finally, sweet oblivion overtook you. The sounds of your body, your cries, your moans faded into the void, leaving you adrift in a dark, silent expanse where nothing else mattered.

Lute heaved, her chest rising and falling as she stood over your wrecked, sprawled form. The dildo in her hand was soaked, glistening with your juices, and the room reeked of your debauchery. Her eyes flicked to the darkened spots staining the sheets beneath you, evidence of your squirting with every climax she’d wrung from you. She bit the inside of her cheek, bile rising in her throat at the thought of how Adam had always loved that—the mess, the chaos, the rawness of it.

“Super hot,” he’d called it.

Her gaze drifted lower, settling on your used pussy. It fluttered weakly, twitching in the aftermath of her relentless assault. She ripped the strap-on harness from her hips, her hands trembling with something she couldn’t name—frustration? Hatred? Envy so raw it felt like it would consume her?

This was the cunt. The one Adam had fucked endlessly, obsessively, ever since his damnation. Her teeth clenched so hard it hurt.

Her eyes burned as she looked down at the dildo slick with your juices. Slowly, she pressed the head of it against her entrance, her breathing shallow. She let herself imagine—for one fleeting, painful second—that it was him. That he was here, pressing into her, taking her apart with the same fervour he’d given you.

The thought sent a violent shudder through her body. Anger swirled with frustration in a maelstrom of emotions that left her shaking.

Why?

Why did it have to be you?

Why couldn't it have been her?

Lute’s nails dug into her palm as she stared down at you. She’d been by Adam’s side for centuries—since the day she’d pledged herself to the Exterminator’s cause. She had fought beside him, bled beside him, held his dying form in her arms during that final battle. If anyone deserved to be next to him, to be his, it was her. Not you. Not some temperamental fox demon whose mood swung as wildly as Hell’s weather.

Her lip curled, hatred twisting her features as she thought of how effortlessly you’d stolen him. But before she could act on the anger roiling inside her, a sudden knock at the door startled her.

She froze, her pulse hammering in her ears. That was... unexpected. Glancing at the clock, her brow furrowed. Their time shouldn't be up yet.

The knock came again, louder this time, insistent. Her head whipped toward the door, her breath catching in her throat. Tossing the dildo aside, she scrambled to find her clothes. Whatever was on the other side of that door, it was a threat. She was sure of it. A Sinner, perhaps. Maybe even one of your pathetic, desperate allies.

But as she reached for her Angelic Steel weapon, she froze.

“Babe?”

Her blood ran cold.

The voice was unmistakable.

“I know you’re in there,” Adam called from behind the door, his tone light but carrying that same commanding edge she remembered all too well. Another knock followed, firmer this time, shaking the door on its hinges.

Her heart raced, the sound of it pounding in her ears like war drums. She hadn’t seen him—truly seen him—since that battle, since she’d cradled his broken, bleeding body and watched the light leave his eyes. Since she’d learned he had fallen, damned to this place.

And she had followed him, hadn’t she? Not openly, not brazenly, but from the shadows, drawn to him like a moth to flame. She had watched him, studied him, but never once dared to face him. How could she? He was everything she had been taught to loathe. A Sinner. The Sinner. And yet, here he was, standing on the other side of the door.

Slowly, her trembling hands reached for the handle. She cracked the door open, just enough to see him.

Her breath hitched.

He hadn’t changed. Not really. The soft brown hair that curled at the ends, the sharpness of his goatee, the confident grin that had always set her pulse racing—it was all still there. But his eyes, oh, his eyes were sharper now, darker. They pierced through her like a blade, and she could feel her heart squeezing painfully in her chest.

“Si—” she started, her voice barely a whisper.

But Adam cut her off, brushing past her with the ease of a man who had nothing to prove.

“Damn,” Adam muttered, his eyes softening as he looked down at the fox sinner lying unconscious on the bed. His tone was warm, almost affectionate. “If you wanted a good fuck, you should’ve come to me, sugartits,” he said with a smirk, effortlessly picking you up in a bridal carry, your limp form cradled against his chest. “Ah, shit, I should probably cover you up before you get pissed at me for flashing the entire streets of Hell,” he chuckled softly to himself, the tenderness in his voice as natural as breathing.

Lute’s blood ran cold. Her eyes burned with a fury that threatened to consume her whole. She watched the scene unfold with a bitter, seething resentment. This was the man she had devoted everything to—her loyalty, her love—and here he was, cradling that bitch like you were the most precious thing in the world. The way he cared for you, the way he held you so gently—it made her want to tear her own heart out. Adam had never looked at her like that. He had never held her like that. She had given him everything, and now he was throwing it all away for a cheap sinner.

For you

She wanted to scream. She wanted to shatter something, to make him see her, to make him feel her. The pain twisted in her chest, and a furious, bitter laugh bubbled up from the depths of her throat.

Adam turned to leave, his attention on the door, but Lute stepped in front of him, blocking his path. Her chest heaved with desperation. She couldn’t just stand there and let it happen. She couldn’t just let him walk away from her without at least trying to make him see.

“Sir, I—” her voice cracked, her heart pounding in her throat as she reached out to him.

Adam stopped, looking at her with a flicker of curiosity. He didn’t even seem annoyed. His gaze was more... bemused. He tilted his head, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “You’re sort of in my way,” he said lazily, the words like ice in her veins.

It hurts. The words she had wanted to say to him, the things she had wanted to plead, now stuck in her throat like shards of glass. She had tried for so long to fight it, to hold on to something, but now she saw the truth. She wasn’t the one he wanted. She wasn’t the one he needed.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as she swallowed down the bitter rage that threatened to spill over. This was the man she had fought beside, bled for, and fallen in love with—and now he was walking away, without even a second glance. She wasn’t even a thought in his mind.

“How could you?” Lute spat, her voice sharp and full of venom. “How could you live like this? Where’s your honour, your faith, your—”

He snorted, a cynical laugh escaping his lips. His eyes, red as blood, flickered with something dark. “We’re in Hell now, Lute. What honour? What faith?” he said, his voice flat, resigned. The coldness in his tone stung her, as if he had completely given up on everything they had once stood for. The man she had loved—worshipped—was gone, replaced by this hollow shell.

Her heart shattered all over again. “Y-you’ve changed,” she managed to choke out, her voice raw. It wasn’t just the words, it was the realization that he had completely slipped away from her, that everything she had once thought was solid and real was reduced to less than dust.

Gone.

"Uh, duh," he muttered, his tone so casually dismissive it felt like a slap. His eyes didn’t even linger on her as he adjusted the fox sinner in his arms. There was a tenderness there that Lute could never seem to get from him. He didn’t look at her the way he looked at you. "I kind of have horns now, like actual horns, and I’m in Hell,” he said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

Lute stood there, the anger swirling inside her like a storm. “We could change that,” she said, forcing the words out through gritted teeth. She had said this to herself a thousand times before, rehearsed it in her mind like a mantra. “We could go to the Seraphim and beg them to reconsider. We can—”

“Lute,” Adam’s voice was soft, but it was enough to silence her. That soft command, the one that had always made her want to kneel before him, now closed her mouth with a force that felt like a blow. She looked up at him, seeing that tired, resigned expression on his face—the man who had once been so full of life was now defeated, broken. “I can’t go back up there anymore,” he said simply, like it was a fact she should have already known. “The big man upstairs saw fit to bring me down here, so you and I both know it’s impossible.”

“No,” Lute whispered, her voice trembling as she took a step closer to him. She had to try. She had to make him see. She reached out, desperate, her fingers brushing against his arm. “It’s not impossible. It’s not impossible.”

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up at him, her eyes pleading. “One of the residents from that hotel—the snake sinner—he… he made it into Heaven, sir.”

The words hung between them like a suffocating fog. Silence stretched out, heavy and unbearable. Lute’s heart raced, hope flickering in her chest even as the truth sunk in. She knew—deep down—that Adam had already made his choice. And it wasn’t her.

He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes unreadable.

Adam’s chuckle started low, almost like a whisper, a dark, bitter sound that sent a chill crawling up Lute’s spine. It grew, slowly, until it broke free, rippling through the room in a full, boisterous laugh that seemed to mock everything they had once fought for. His shoulders trembled with the force of it, a laugh full of cynicism, full of sorrow, full of something Lute could never name but felt in the very marrow of her bones. And then, as quickly as it had come, the laughter faded, leaving only the heavy silence of a man who had long given up on anything pure, anything worth fighting for.

Adam walked past her without a glance, his presence like a storm she couldn’t escape. He paused just before the threshold of the door, casting one last glance at her without ever really looking at her. She felt it—a hollow emptiness, as if he had already made his choice and it didn’t include her. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he murmured softly, as though to himself. But the words cut through her like a knife. “Maybe my sons didn’t have to die after all.”

Lute’s heart stopped. Her blood turned to ice. She was desperate to stop him, to make him understand, but the words caught in her throat. He was already walking away, retreating down the hallway like a man who had finally lost his soul. She scrambled toward the door, calling his name over and over, her voice frantic, raw with desperation. “Adam!” She could feel the tears beginning to burn at the corners of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. Not yet. “Adam, please!”

But he didn’t turn back.

Not once.

Not ever.

He didn’t even spare her a second glance as he walked away, each step taking him further from her, further from everything she had ever believed in. The very man she had respected, the very man she had loved with everything she had, was leaving her behind in a trail of dust and broken dreams. He was walking away from everything they had built together. From everything they had fought for.

And it hurt.

It hurt more than anything she had ever felt before. More than the battles they had fought. More than the pain of losing her faith. More than any wound ever inflicted upon her by another.

He turned his back away from salvation.

He turned his back away from faith.

He turned his back away from her.

And in the silence that followed, all Lute could do was stand there, lost in the shadows of a love that would never be returned.

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dreamsontheirway · 2 years ago

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Vanilla Chai | S.R.

Summary: in which reader has the flu and insists that they’re fine. spencer x reader. Warnings: sickness, vomiting, morgue/dead body on a case Word Count: 1.5k

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The sunrise of the early Friday morning shone through your blinds and cast its rays upon your face. You stirred, slowly opening your eyes, then closing them almost as quickly due to the pounding in your head.

You groaned, squinting to check the time. Fuuuck, you thought. It was well past the time you needed to get up. You would have plenty of time to get ready, but the thought of having to leave your warm, cozy bed was pure torture.

You reluctantly tore yourself from your bed, shivering when your skin hit the cool air that was once shielded by your tan colored comforter. You made your way to your closet and began the agonizing torture that was preparing for the day.

No matter what, though, you would be going to work. You weren't sick -- you didn't have time to be sick.

✿

You walked into the building with one hand securing your satchel and the other pressing against your temple lightly, attempting to ease the pain radiating through your skull. Tylenol had been fruitless in your attempt to ease the splitting headache plaguing you.

Upon entering the bullpen, you made your way over to your desk, squinting from the bright, harsh LED lights. You plopped down in your desk chair, draping your bag atop the back of it. Before you could even gather your surroundings, a cup from the local coffee shop was placed in front of you.

"Dirty chai," a voice spoke. "With two pumps of vanilla."

Spencer Reid, your boyfriend, your partner in crime - literally. A godsend. If anything could cure you, it was a chai latte.

You looked up at him through heavy eyelids. "You're truly amazing. Thank you."

"My pleasure," he cooed, tucking a stray hair behind your ear and kissing the top of your head as a greeting. Almost as quickly as he touched you, he pulled away.

"You're warm," He stated, matter-of-factly, before returning his hand to your forehead. His brows furrowed in a swirling concoction of confusion and worry.

You waved him off nonchalantly. "I'm fine, don't worry about me. Probably just dehydrated or something." You sipped at your latte, humming contentedly at the sweet, milky liquid.

The young genius was unconvinced and peered at you skeptically through black rimmed glasses. Your favorite. You recalled a moment before you started dating in which you sheepishly admitted how much you liked when he wore them. Spencer had blushed so deeply his face was the shade of a tomato. He had timidly thanked you for the compliment and you had noticed that he wore the glasses much more often after the exchange.

"Have you taken any fever reducer?" Spencer mused, and you hummed again in response, signaling you had, and took another sip of your tea. His brows furrowed again.

"I promise I'm fine, Spence. Now if you don't mind, I've got a lot of paperwork to complete." You smiled softly at the tall man beside you, and he seemed to relax slightly.

"Just," he started. "Just let me know if you need anything, okay? I could pick up some extra strength acetaminophen if you want me to."

"I will let you know. Promise," you smirked at your partner's concern. It was charming, really, but you were fine. Whenever you had been sick in the past, if anything it was merely a nuisance. All it had been was a hinderance preventing you from getting your work done.

Your thought was cut short by another voice speaking. "We've got a case. Conference room in 5." Hotch spoke, his voice embodying its usual firm timbre.

"Duty calls," you joked to Spencer, standing up to begin the trek to the conference room. As you stood, the hammering in your head began again, stronger this time. One hand flew to your temple, rubbing in hopes to soothe it, and the other gripped the edge of your desk.

"Whoa," Spencer reached for you, a hand resting on your waist, squeezing firmly yet also gently. “Do you need to sit?"

You waited a moment, allowing the black veil of dizziness to fade away. "No," you spoke softly. "No, I'm okay. Must've gotten up too fast." You gave him a smile.

Spencer was skeptical, you could read it across his features, of which were twisted up in apprehension. You knew he wasn’t going to let this go.

“C’mon, worry wart.” You both traveled up the stairs to the conference room. Spencer walked behind you, picking up on the fact that you were walking slower than usual. Your steps seemed calculated, ensuring that your feet would land firmly on each step.

You sat down at the round table, Spencer selecting the seat right next to yours. A sigh expelled from your mouth and your eyes closed, attempting to fend off the dizzying feeling that continued to consume you.

Spencer reached you under the table, rubbing his thumb against the lower part of your thigh. Oh how you wanted to curl up with him on the couch, his arms holding you tightly against him… No. You were fine! You needed to concentrate on work. You could rest with Spencer later.

Hotch and the rest of the team entered the room and took their seats. You listened to the case being explained, but your mind continued to drift towards nothingness. You just could not, for the life of you, get yourself to focus.

“Agent Y/L/N?” Hotchner’s voice seemed to be ten times as harsh as usual. God, did he have to talk so loud? Or was it purely the constant amplification of sound that swirled in your head?

“Yes, sorry?” You spoke, but your vision blurred and you started to see two of everything. You closed your eyes tightly, willing the double vision to dissipate. You could feel Spencer's gaze burn into you from your peripheral vision.

“You, Reid, and Prentiss will go to the medical examiner.”

“Yes, sir.”

You were thankful that no further questions were asked about your lack of active listening. You gathered your satchel and additional items in preparation to head out with the rest of the team. Before you could began your descent back down the stairs, a gentle touch laid on your arm.

"Are you sure you're alright? You can go home if you aren't feeling well. Hotch will understand," Spencer's voice soothed you, and pulled you in as if it were suctioning you to him. His fingers rubbed the back of your arm delicately.

Boy, did you want to just go home and cuddle under a blanket and watch your favorite show... No, you could do this. You wanted to be here for this case. Besides, it was Friday. You just needed to get through today and you could enjoy some much needed time off over the weekend.

"Yes, I'll be okay," you assured, leaning yourself into his side slightly. You could smell the scent of chai and cinnamon on him and it was the most comforting scent you could imagine in that moment. Spencer seemed to smell different each day, today it was chai and cinnamon, yesterday it was lavender and chamomile. You looked forward to what tomorrow's fragrance would be.

✿

The drive to the medical examiner's office was largely uneventful. Spencer drove, with you in the passenger's seat, and Emily in the back. The local radio station played softly through the speakers of the van, and Spencer snuck looks at you that you pretended not to notice.

You all made your way inside the building, its walls white and sterile like a hospital. The smell of bleach and cleaning chemicals wafted into your nostrils, and you found yourself craving the aroma of lavender and chamomile.

Prentiss suggested that the two of you go with the medical examiner to gather information about the body. That would leave Spencer to go through the files and reports related to the case. It made sense; Spencer could read through the handful of files in mere minutes. However, he was reluctant. His hazel eyes peered at you, questioning. You just smiled in response, communicating that you would be fine.

The morgue smelled even stronger of bleach and chemicals, and you felt your stomach do flips. The examiner displayed the body for you and Emily to look at. As always, it was a gruesome sight, but you were unfortunately used to it. But, why were you feeling entirely sick to your stomach all of a sudden?

You could feel something in your throat, and you knew you needed to get outside or to a trash can, whichever came first. You dashed towards the back exit so quickly, that you didn't even notice Spencer's worried stare.

Upon seeing your fleeing form, Spencer lightly tossed the files he was skimming onto the mahogany table and quickly bounded toward you. He arrived just in time to hold the heavy door with one hand and gather your hair on your neck with the other.

You heaved, tears burning your eyes. Spencer switched to use his hip to hold open the door and utilized his now free hand to rub circles on your back.

"Let it out," he cooed, continuing the soft, repetitive motion on your back.

"Spencer," you gasped.

"Yeah?"

"I think I'm sick."

-----

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slytherinshua · 6 months ago

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BOY OF MY DREAMS

summary. things gyuvin does in a relationship. genre. fluff. headcanons. warnings. i feel like this is repetitive idk... i think i just yapped and its just a lot of word vomit... but maybe its actually good IDK SAVE ME. also not proofread thoroughly. pairing. gyuvin x fem!reader. wc. 814. request. requested by 🥟 anon. a/n. this would've been husband headcanons or like husband material things like the matthew fic but gyuvin is only 19 like... marriage feels too much for him so i just kept the same feel without giving it that label so hopefully that makes sense.

PRINCESS TREATMENT

He treats you like you’re the world’s most precious jewel. Compliments flow out of his mouth effortlessly. It’s like he doesn’t even need to think about it. His brain could supply him with hundreds of words to tell you how gorgeous you are to him. He isn’t quite sure how he managed to pull such a goddess, but he knows for sure that he’s not going to lose you now that he has you. Whenever you get dressed up for a date or party, he just stares at you through the mirror, completely awestruck. He knows he’s handsome as well. He knows he matches up to you, but admiring you and how perfect you look makes him feel so grateful to have you in his life. Whenever he’s admiring you, whether it’s when you’ve done your best to look your prettiest, or when you’re in your pyjamas with messy hair and bags under your eyes, Gyuvin is reminded of all the things that make you so lovable and beautiful. It’s in these moments that he gets the most sentimental and romantic.

CHEERS YOU UP

He always makes you smile. He’s one of the only people who can cheer you up no matter what. Especially when you’ve had an extremely hard day or week. If you’re upset and angry at him, he still knows how to make you smile. Gyuvin knows when cracking a joke or showing you a meme will make you feel better— sometimes it’s exactly what is needed to lift your mood up just enough that his kisses and words can do the rest. You put up a wall sometimes when you get mad, determined to not let Gyuvin get past that wall. But he knows you inside and out, and he knows what the weak points are. His kisses, his touch, his promises. You are just as in love with him as he is with you, and he’s fully confident that you can get past any disagreements or hard times when you work together. Even before you’ve talked about marriage, in Gyuvin’s mind, you are already a team.

GIFTS

Gyuvin knows you better than anyone, and he loves buying you things that he knows fits your taste perfectly. Whether it’s clothes, jewelry, plushies, mugs, or any random trinket that he sees at the store and just has you written all over, he will buy it and bring it home to you. Seeing your reaction— your smile and bright eyes— it’s something he’ll never get tired of. It makes his chest feel warm and fuzzy. Seeing you happy makes him happy.

PROTECTS YOU

He has some inner conflict in his brain. Because, on one hand, he’s so proud of you and thinks you’re so perfect that the whole world should know. He wishes everyone could see you as he sees you. But he knows that the world is cruel and the people have been cruel to you in the past. He wants to protect you, to shield you from everyone else because he knows that no one else would treat you as well as he would. Whenever you’re out together, he keeps his guard up. He’s always observing you to see if you ever get uncomfortable, as well as surveying the people around him. Gyuvin wouldn’t label it as jealousy. He’s so confident and secure in his relationship with you, he has absolutely no worries. But he does care about your comfort, which is why he can be harsher to strangers who try to start a conversation with you.

FEELS SAFE WITH YOU

You’re his safe person. Possibly the only person in the world he doesn’t have to conceal anything from. After a long day, all he wants to do is come home to you and curl up in your arms. That’s where his home is, not a place, but just you. Being close to you, feeling your soft skin and breathing the scent of your shampoo. It instantly calms him down and helps him reset. He has doubts and worries about the future like anyone does, but he knows that if he’s with you, he can overcome anything.

PLANS FOR THE FUTURE

He’s very sentimental and likes to talk about the future a lot. He doesn’t like uncertainty and wants to always know that you’re on the same page as him. He makes promises and stays loyal to them no matter what. It’s one of the traits that makes Gyuvin the most romantic. He really likes the idea of being together forever and being committed to one person your entire life. Breaking up is not something that would ever cross Gyuvin’s mind; even if he’s mad at you, or if you’ve been arguing for hours. In the end, he knows that you are more precious to him than anything and that he would do everything in his power to keep you by his side. He promises this to you with many rings over the years.

↳ zerobaseone taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @okshu,, @chewryy,, @haecien,, @sobun1est,,

@emmylksblog,, @talkingsaxy,, @thesunsfullmoon,, @chenleszone,, @sxmmerberries,,

@talking-saxy,, @cupidslovearrows,, @dimplewonie

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nekovmancer · 3 months ago

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Hello, I was wondering if you could make zenyatta and ramattra with Cyborg!Reader like genji, but their body glows if they have too much energy.

overwatch headcanons: cyborg!reader with Ramattra and Zenyatta

warnings: mentions of violence, trauma and such, a bit platonic and… ye, pretty much fine, nothing graphic

a/n: my love for Zen is 100% dear and platonic yet- well, you guys know. RAMATTRA!!!

will do them separately in the present game timeline and then together back in the monastery and… it’s past midnight here, my eyelids are heavy, but there’s no sleep in between me and writing fanfiction so, sowy for the mistakes ahead, I will correct them tomorrow!! anxiety kept me awake and obligated me to post as soon as I’ve finished, you know

btw!! thanks for requesting. I love to write it and I hope you also enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

OPEN FOR HEADCANON REQUESTS! Send yours here, but read rules first

Ramattra

A Ravager was responsible for your body’s destruction, so it’s only natural you’re shaking on its presence

Back when it happened, omnics were still under Anubis’ control, so it’s not like you blame him or any other R-7000 for their doings

Still, you got these chills running down your spine now that you stand face to face to Null Sector’s infamous leader

But the thrill is even stronger when he proves all your believes to be wrong, being to one to extend a helping hand to prevent your body to overheat

As Genji, your parts were substituted with cybernetics: flesh, muscle and metal bounding into one thing to keep your alive

Though, you weren’t lucky to be shaped by doctor Ziegler’s careful hands, which lead to several problems, including the overheating itself, caused by your frenetic running while trying to escape Toronto during the Invasion

Ramattra saw you and couldn’t help but be… fascinated

You were not an omnic, so his helmets were useless, still you’re shaped in metal, no sight of skin showing. A human, without humanity’s resemblance

He caught your heartbeats, their rhythm more and more violent, growing exponentially as the glow from your cybernetics, a flashing red of warning

He’s so intrigued he founds himself kneeling in front of you, one hand reaching out while you press your back to the wall behind you; no way to run out of this

“Hush now. If I was to hurt you, why the ceremony?”

His words had logic, true, but fear was devouring you

The last time you were this close to a Ravager was the last time you still had much of your organic body parts

“I may be of help, if you let me”

What choice did you have anyway? If he didn’t kill you, your body would do the job alone

Ramattra escorts you to safety, and ironically it means the very ships vomiting killing robots a while ago

You stay in his workshop as it takes little time for him to figure out how to cool down your body, and the glow is long gone by the time he’s done

“Not an omnic, yet not fully human… where do you find a place for one as yourself in this doomed world?”

Here’s the thing: you don’t

That’s why you accept his offer to stay, despite all of your fears

In the end, the hands who once destroyed you were the same who saved you from death

Zenyatta

Omnics and humans coexisting peacefully was a metaphor to your own state: both human and machine sharing the same body, trying to not repel one another

A heart of flesh habitating a chest of metal, you tiptoed the lines between the two worlds, but you didn’t felt as part of any of them

Still, you find solace in the words of a monk by the name of Mondatta. He spoke of hope and understandment, of peace above the conflict. Without even knowing, he brought balance to your turmoil; past and present

But hope was a dangerous thing for the ones like you, if there was anyone else sharing the burden of a dreadful existence as yours

And you’re quick out of reasons since Mondatta’s death

You weren’t welcome among the omnics, and humans saw you as a freak. Any chance of normality was eradicated

As a last act of faith, you did Aurora’s peregrination to Shambali. You didn’t know what to expect, but surely the villagers near the monastery left a very bad impression

Along with the exhaustion, you entered the sacred halls with your cybernetics glowing red, a flash of the eminent chaos that would erupt if you’re not stabilized quickly enough

A monk comes to your aid, and by staring at his faceplate alone you can feel something different stirring within you. A long lost calmness tossing your circuits errors aside

You wouldn’t forget his name not even in a million lifetimes: Zenyatta, the one who offered you a place to rest after your journey, and the very first to be interest in you

His genuine interest, plus the care, was touching. No one ever did anything similar to you, not after Talon decided you could still be a soldier even without most of your body

Which led to you running away, not soon enough to prevent Doctor O'Deorain from damaging your body though. Another monster carefully constructed to be Talon’s pawn, no matter how much pain came from it

But you’ve already paid the price for your mistakes, and one thing is for sure: you’re no monster

Among the monks, you could feel that familiar peaceful feeling lingering under your skin, resonating through the circuits of your cybernetics

For once, you did not felt cast aside, most thankful to Tekhartha Zenyatta

His harmony orbs helped to regain a balance you thought to be long lost, and not only: the chaos within you, something you tried to ignore, was embraced as it should be also cherished

“No living being is completely pure, nor completely evil. We’re both our strengths and flaws: to deny one existence in detriment of other is to deny yourself.”

Even the worst of you was forgiven; by him first, and you last. Where you felt shame for your wrongdoings, Zenyatta pathed a lesson that erased your doubts

Through meditation, you found not only peace with your inner self, but with the world surrounding you

The balance of energy through your body presented you with a new glowing: not the crimson red of tiredness and rage, but a warm yellow that irradiates warm as a small sun; the energy of the Iris found you

“My dear friend, I bathe in the light of your soul. May it keep us sheltered during the dark times ahead of us.”

Ramattra & Zenyatta

When the brothers found you, they first thought you were an omnic

Judging by the people screaming around you, tossing stones, displaying the worst of their violence and, of course, the fact your whole constitution was pure metal

It’s only when they take you to the monastery that they knowledge the other side of your face, the one that’s still flesh

No questions were asked, but none of them are naive. Being a cyborg meant something, and this something tiptoed around the lines of violence

And despite it all, cyborgs are quite rare. Especially ones glowing as you did, with your joints pulsating with energy

It was easy to distinguish your humor by the light radiating from your body: usually soft, it could be oversaturated when your humor reached peaks, transiting through a rainbow of colors depending on what you had in your mind

At first, a light tone of red flashed whenever they approached. Despite being your saviors, you still felt a bit of distrustfulness towards them

Humans saw you as an aberration, and you did not have too much time with sentient omnics to put their behavior to test. Not that you felt inclined to do so. To deal with humanity’s rejection was enough

Zenyatta was patient, but Ramattra… no metal in this world could undo the fact you were a human. And he also had his share with humanity to know how incredible terrible they can be

That’s why, maybe, it’s easy for you to approach him

Ramattra resented humanity, despite his best efforts to find harmony through his want for peace and his desire for revenge. Not that you had the guts to do anything but lament over your own dismay, but… you could relate

Zenyatta, on the other hand, touched your deepest cravings for being a better person, standing above those who abused you. You did not wished for violence, despite your rage: to be comprehended was your key

And both of them did it, in their own way

Through your days in Shambali, you felt part of their brotherhood. Not exactly as such, but… cherished. Each of them bonded with you in their own unique way, understanding your pains, your dreams, your wants. Piece by piece, the three of you found a way together

Now, whenever you meditate with Ramattra, concentrating the energy flow in your body, a glowing purple flashed through your cybernetics. But with Zenyatta, a deep golden color showed itself

And that’s why you could never choose. Your love for them was measured equally: if cut in half, one part would still be of Ramattra, and the other would belong to Zenyatta

So when Ramattra leaves from Shambali, and both you and Zenyatta decline his offer to follow his path off the Monastery, there’s no way from you in the opposites side, but through the middle-term

You still dream of the day you three will meet again. For the good or for the bad, you missed them for a lifetime, and to be separated brings up this feeling all over again

Now, whenever you concentrate your energy, it’s grayish: devoid of color, deepness and light

#overwatch 2 #overwatch headcanons #overwatch x reader #ramattra #ramattra x reader #zenyatta #zenyatta x reader

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delusionalmultilingual · 8 months ago

Text

Title cover by me, please ask for permission to use. Not the panel but the editing :)

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

Todoroki's sick?

This is just a drabble for the moment but if I post this hooray you get to see what sort of lovesick lonely relationship I want.

ITS A COMPLETE SLOWBURN PLEASE DONT HATE ME

Contains: Vomit, Illness, Spoilers.

Todoroki gets sick? Thank god your there to help him you pitiful bastard.

Your in your last year of U.A, just after your exams he gets sick. Where did Shouto go?

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

"Todoroki Shouto." The same monotone voice came from your tired teacher, had his eyebags dropped even more? His eyes had surely gotten more red. He looks stoned, you wish you could be too.

Zoning out for a second too long you feel a glare from your teacher who had probably said your name mote than three times by now, flicking his scarf to slide right past your ear, a whooshing sound which jolted you out of your zoned out state.

It was the same silence, the same silence that had gone on for the past three days. Time doesn't normally matter to you, the world moves either to quick or too slow so you do your own thing.

"Focus or I'll make you run laps."

You flinch and look directly at your teacher who had moved towards your desk, black eyes slowly emitting the gloomy red that scared you sometimes. Sitting up straighter then you had ever sat you gave him a small smile before nodding a small apology. Thank god he was tired or he might have probably killed you by now.

"Ah, [Your Name]. Is there something bothering you?" Uraraka asked beside you quietly as you all began writing. To which you turned to see her eyes locked with yours.

You respond with a quick 'hm' shaking your head trying not to worry your friend, shifting your focus back to your writing as you tried not to think about specific things.

'I wonder where Todoroki is...'

'Is he with his dad? Maybe his mum...'

You shake your head and pinch your arm to refocus feeling a hint of heat on the tips of your ears. Your eyes staring intensely at the word 'mixture'.

'Fuck, that's also like him.'

Rubbing your temples now, and running a hand behind the back of your neck and pressing down on the sore spot that had grown increasingly through the pressure of homework and assignments, Hero work too.

A low muttering came from Midoryia, he was back to his usual ways even while Mr Aizawa spoke in his colourless voice. And Ashido and Kaminari were whispering to each other trying to get some form of idea as to what to write.

If you were completely honest you didn't know what to write either, the work was something about Physical and Quirk development, which was a pain when you had learned majority of it in middle school.

Yet you didn't know what to write, even if you knew about what you were learning, you still didn't know what to write. Maybe it was the three assignments that you turned in earlier today, maybe you were just burnt out.

Aizawa's words were now muffled through your thoughts as you doodled over your pages of lined, neat work. They weren't the best but they were cute enough to stay in your book.

"But sir this is too difficult!" Mina and Denki whined in unison, snapping you out of your stage of drawing and listening into the bickering, Bakugou yelling at them from across the room.

"Shuddap. If you werent so stupid maybe you would understand!"

Aizawa sighed yet again, sleep deprived probably, maybe an insomniac. "Bakugou, get back to your own work."

After a miniature altercation between Aizawa and Bakugou, it ended with Bakugou going quiet and grumbling as he continued working and Aizawa scolding Mina and Denki.

Uraraka was giggling beside you, covering her smirk and lowering her head further than what it usually is and trying to compose herself. Her brown hair was definitely longer than what it was in your first year, down to her shoulders now.

She complained that it was getting too long and that she needed to cut it but she didn't have the money, so when Momo offered to pay she declined and said that her hair was fine the way it was.

Even if she was your friend she's a little too anxious about money, even if it was ten dollars. You knew it was because of her background but she's going to be paid a shit ton in the future, if she continued with her path of being a pro.

You ponder on the small parts that you were thinking of before. 'Three days.', was the main thought as you were distracted yet again, which ended with the sake old lecture about listening and paying attention by Aizawa.

***

"[Your Name!" Tsuyu and Mina ran after you, the entire of U.A walking the same paths as the rest of the years. It was your last year, last year of all of this. It sparks an anxious pain in your chest but at the same time motivation.

You turn to face your two friends and Mina practically jumps into your arms and nearly takes the both of you to the floor. And now your winded as Tsu drags Mina off you.

"Are you going to come to dinner tonight?" Tsu asks, her croaky voice comes from her, shorter than Mina and you but thankfully taller than that purple balled idiot. He hurt your neck often when he gave you creepy smiles and all his perverted stuff.

A shrug comes from your shoulders which ends with a pampering Mina begging you not to stay cooped up in your room for the rest of winter holidays. A short answer came from your lips and Tsu's tongue was sticking out as she smiled warmly.

"Probably not, I gotta get this resume in."

Tsu nodded and pulled at Mina's shirt and trying to usher her away as to not hold you back any longer. She might not have spoke many words but she's very expressive through her emotions.

Eventually she was picked off bit by bit, and the dormitory was around a minute away walking. You were tired, but now having to write up a resume that you were planning on doing a week earlier, didn't happen. The procrastination got to you before you even started.

So you began walking, thinking about how to start on your resume even though it was simple, obviously you had to start with your full name, address... 'Would it be the dorm number or just U.A?' The thought ran through your mind before getting thrown into the many other thoughts.

You gave a small wave to Sato who was watering some of the flowers that the class planted earlier this year. He waved back only a few seconds after you, and by then you were already at the steep of the stairs. Pushing the doors open to the smell of Bakugou's food.

Ignoring the smell you looked at the elevator before taking the stairs, you were only on the first floor anyway. It was a flight of stairs, the least you could do is not be lazy.

When you unlocked your door, the small 'rodent' so you claim it to be meowed and purred against your leg.

"Hey Asana, what'cha doing pretty?" You ran a hand along the curled soft hair of your cat, you weren't really supposed to have pets in the dorms but they didn't have to know about him.

Sure, Asana was a male cat with a girl's name, but he didn't know that. He can't understand English, sometimes that makes you suspicious of him. So you shut the door behind you, picking him up and smooching his head three times before he places a paw to your nose.

"You stink."

Asana responded with a long meow, of course. He wanted food, you place him on the ground and sort him out. Flopping onto your bed with a groan of relief when the softness of the cushion collides with your back.

In less than a second, the little rodent you loved so much had jumped on you and was making biscuits on your chest, putting all his weight on his front paws, making you wheeze in pain, how could a cat be so heavy?

He purred loudly and soon after fell asleep on you, which left you scrolling on your phone and typing up this resume that you definitely needed to do before you left school. And of course it would probably take three seconds to finish, but you had sooooo many other things to do. One of them was steal Bakugou's recipe cause damn his cooking is amazing, he would mind so you would have to do it in secret.

Did he even have a recipe to follow? It would surprise you if you didn't, maybe Sato could help. Bakugou never seemed to mind him helping with cooking, he'd prefer him cleaning or doing something else. But only a grumble would be his response.

Thinking over your plan you knew it wouldn't help, you were already on social media and Mina had posted a class photo, Sato was there as well. Damn, he probably ran so he wasn't late.

It was already dark, maybe you could order in. You didn't have much energy to cook anyway, Bakugou definitely wouldn't waste his precious time cooking for you anyway, you were 'a pain in the ass'.

'Ah, I forgot about Todoroki.'

The thought that crossed through your mind from earlier today had reached you again, Midoryia said that he wasn't out with family. Iida said that he had probably become ill, with his continuous efforts at school.

"Asana, should I message him?" You ask your cat, he wasn't going to respond. Either a meow or his ears twitching would be the response.

He was dead asleep. On your chest, curled ears twitching when you sighed deeply and looked at the name on your screen, 'Shouto'. He had a small emoji next to his name, thanks to your creativity of putting what their quirks were as emoji's.

After a long groan and thinking you fumble around messaging him quickly.

'Hey Todoroki, I was wondering how you are doing since you haven't been at school.'

Sent.

Fuck.

Squeezing Asana'a pretty white fur he responded back with a low purr. Three minutes go by, feels like forever and the embarrassment of messaging someone you don't usually message. Ah, this is shit.

Your phone lights up, the notification carxges your eye.

Shouto 🧊🔥

'I'm unwell.'

Dry text. As usual, it didn't bother you as much as it used to, he's gotten better since first year.

'Would you like me to get you something?'

You message back immediately, the heat rushing to your face.

Shouto🧊🔥

'Porridge and Orange juice?'

Was all he replied before you sat up, Asana jumping off and getting comfy on your bed, maybe you should change. Sweats and a singlet? Yep.

Grey pants and a black singlet was what you wore, bringing up a hot bowl of porridge and a carton of Orange juice that was in the fridge, wasn't yours but you'll buy another one for whoever complains.

He was on the fifth floor, wasn't a preference, you would complain if you had to go up five floors.

You reach his room that was labelled with his name, Todoroki. And you knock on the door, it was dead quiet. Usually you would be able to hear Jiro playing her instruments but she was gone as well.

The door clicks open and you see Todoroki, taller than you. His hair a mess and both of his hair colours mixing with eachother, he has showered. But he looks like a mess.

"Can I come in?"

You ask quietly and he covers his cough with his elbow, nodding and turning around so you can go inside his dorm. Very traditional, you saw it a few times while studying with Sero. He cleans regularly, but it's gotten messy since he's been sick.

There was a bucket next to his bed, has he been really sick? Maybe Gastro.

"Sit back down I don't wanna make you run around or something." You usher him back to his futon, you have the kindest expression on and aren't trying to push him around too much.

The room has a hint of sickness in it too, maybe you would get sick too. Oh well.

He sits down with his legs crossed and looks up at you, his face puffy and his hair still a mess, he looks like his gaze is a blur and you gently give him the porridge.

"Have you been eating?"

This is awkward, first you had to message him and now your stuck in his room, with him when he is sick. Your eyes wander and he eats the porridge slowly, blowing on the spoon a few times and switching off his phone. He nods to your question, responding back in a sick and croaked speech.

"Mhm, not much."

Your breath tightened, his voice was usually deepish and monotone but when he's sick. Jesus, gonna take the life outta you.

In less than a second that all changes when he leaps towards the plastic bucket beside his futon and gags profusely, throwing up the porridge he had eaten mere seconds earlier, his stomach trying to throw up on an empty stomach now.

You quickly make your way towards him and kneel down beside him, he puts a hand out to stop you but you move his hair out of the way. It had gotten longer throughout the years but your pretty sure he's been missing his hair appointments.

"Come on Todoroki! Why didn't you let us know." Grumbling beside his ear, he wipes his mouth before sitting back up again, washing his mouth out with the cup of water beside the bucket and spitting it into the bucket.

He goes to stand up, but you keep him sat down, giving him the carton of orange juice that you had brought earlier, were you holding that while keeping his hair out of the way?

"What are you doing?" He asks in the same groggy probably drugged up voice while watching you pick up the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the toilet in his room.

You look back at him, pushing the toilet seat up and pouring the foul substance into the toilet. Flushing it before closing the lid. "You need to rest. Your not getting up unless I'm gone."

Strong tone and using the shower head in the bathroom to rinse the bucket, you turn your head to see if he agrees.

"It's only a stomach bug."

"A stomach bug that makes you look like your about to die."

"Every illness makes you look like that."

"Your not getting up unless you need to go to the toilet. Your quirk is going to drain your energy so don't use that either."

He sighs, not wanting to argue and knowing you were kind of right, he hated to admit it but he actually liked that you cared for him like that. He had gotten used to looking out for himself but when his friends and classmates helped him he realised he also had to look out for others.

"Fine."

He couldn't help it however. He wasn't that sick, right?

You sit down beside him on his futon and look at the half eaten bowl of porridge, he was drinking the juice in hand and staring at you with those oh so beautiful eyes. But it's when he leans over and rests his head on your shoulder that makes you freeze.

"Thanks."

Was all he spoke before closing his eyes and breathing in your scent, you were confused as to why he had done so. Maybe he liked you? Is he clingy when he's sick?

You chuckle and pat his back, he was already relaxed into you but your physical touch made him melt, his body weight becoming evident on your body. So you use majority of your strength to keep sitting up, while adjusting to his weight.

His eyes were closed against you and his breathing became quieter and quieter until you almost could mistake him for being dead. It was soon you realised you were both breathing at the same pace. Did that always happen when two were so close?

Spotting a damp rag on the floor, you pick it up to feel if it is still cold, it wasn't. You couldn't move yet because he was practically attached to you. Jolting when you moved even an inch, so now you were laying down beside him on the single futon. His head against your arm and his arm along your waist.

This wasn't like him, for sure. Was he mistaking you for someone else? Your hoping he's not, cause whoever he would be thinking about like this. Wasn't you.

"It's cold." He speaks quietly, it's only then that you realise the chill in the air. It was already night? But the sun was up, you checked your phone that was sat in your pocket. Your eyes widen at the time. Two hours?!

Two hours had gone by and you could have finished this resume. You couldn't have wished for anything better, or worse? Todoroki Shouto was asleep on you, but you needed to finish this resume.

"Todoroki-"

"Shouto."

"Uh- Alright then. Shouto, I have to get this resume done."

He grumbled and geld onto you tighter, looking up at you, oh lord, he was adorable. Looking up at you with his opposite coloured eyes and pouting ever so slightly.

"Just do it in here."

"Ok then."

Why would you want to argue with him like that? You felt a sense of pity because he was sick, but also because he actually wanted you to stay with him? Your living a dream that you so desperately don't want to end. Maybe if he was well this would send you head over heels.

***

"Hey Todoroki! Where's [Your Name]?" Mina asks with her usual bubbly attitude, staring up at the taller boy with her 'raccoon eyes' as others have said.

Todoroki looks up from the book he was writing in, locking eyes with Mina, Asui was standing next to her with her frog-like tongue sticking out as he responded, scratching the side of his neck.

"She's not feeling well."

"What?!" Mina exclaims, her hands coming to the top of her pink curls quickly as she looked shocked. "She didn't even go anywhere! How did she get sick?"

"She came to visit me when I was sick." He replied back in a monotone speech and got back to writing whatever was on the board. Not knowing how excited Mina looked when she turned to Asui and giggled running off.

'Did I say something wrong?'

—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–——–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—–—

This story is officially FINSIHED! I know I definitely lost some sort of motivation towards the end, I hate slowburns but I do say so myself. This is alright.

Proofread!

Thank you for all the support I have been getting! d=(^o^)=b

#mha #mha headcanons #mha x reader #mha fluff #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #shouto x reader #bnha shouto

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