#like to the doc today i said something about 'that's normal' and he said 'it's very much not'

[catkin-morgs-kookaburralover]

idk sometimes there is a certain absolute horror to be had when you snap out of it for a brief moment to remember how abnormal it all is

[thewinchestah]

"PREY" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: One-Shot, 18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, begging, overstimulation, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, degradation kink, praise kink,

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: i lost count. it's big.

  | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

A/N: Helloooooo!!! I write a lot but i never publish it! My lovely friend and also biggest inspiration for this fic @smallershorteranduncut ordered me to post this and i'm nothing but her loyal servent! I hope you guys enjoy the fruits of me writing 10 google docs pages today while i was enraged. Also english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here yadayayfayada! enjoy <;3 (UPDATE!) Part 2 is now up!

-

Everything about the Radio Demon seemed to be designed to make you desire him, want him. Many times in ways you weren’t even ready to admit to yourself. You haven’t been in Hell long, that’s true. But ever since you manifested here you felt like someone had picked your brain open to make Alastor the perfect bait to lure you into even more sinful, sinister paths. 

He had an inexplicable magnetism around him, a piercing presence that made your eyes stuck on him when he worked a room. He had you bewitched and you hadn’t share more than polite pleasantries with each other since you became a guest at the hotel.

Today, again, you were transfixed in his gaze. Sitting in the corner of the hotel lobby, trying to make your embarrassing attraction to him go unnoticed while Alastor waltzed across the room explaining more of his wicked plans to Charlie. God, how you wish he had his wicked way with you. 

He seemed more… on edge today. His red eyes  glowed a little brighter, his nostrils flared a bit more, static filling the room more often, he was smiling with almost barred teeth, and everyone seemed to be avoiding him. Even Charlie was trying to politely dismiss him, the general feeling of uneasiness inside the hotel  just growing larger when Angel stationed himself near your little corner of the room. 

“Don’t go near that creepy motherfucker today, he’s about to lose it.”  Angel alerted, almost whispering, a pair of his hands making the “crazy sign” near his head 

“Isn’t he always creepy and about to lose it?” Husk added, staring at the exchange between the radio demon and Charlie.

“I’m telling you toots, I know that guy definitely isn't normal, but today he is borderline a mass extinction event. I swear, he’s just waiting for someone to give him the excuse” Angel replied, confirming your suspicions. Something was off.

“Uh. Well, about that, I think it’s time we rescue Charlie” 

As if on cue Charlie turned to the corner of the room, gesticulating really hard to be taken away from the small commotion her conversation with Alastor was becoming. 

“Hey Charlie, do you remember that thing with the hotel’s… personalized stationery you asked me to help you today? Let’s do it!” Said angel gently guiding Charlie away from the Radio Demon.

“Guess that’s my cue Alastor! Greaaaaat chat! As always! Have a nice day!! Byeee!” Charlie’s overly chirpy tone giving away her uneasiness. 

Suddenly it felt like all the air was taken out of the room. Alastor’s neck turned into an ungodly angle, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. Static grew around the group, almost suffocating. As your vision went blurry from the sheer power that was being evoked, you contemplated if there was another afterlife. Preferably one where you didn’t inherit a death wish from your previous ones.

And as quick as it started, it was over. 

Alastor just said a creepy “hm” turned on his hell, and walked away. 

It almost felt like it was all in your head, but your friends standing perfectly still and dead silent next to you gave the reality of the situation away: everyone just had a near death-death experience. Maybe it would be a good topic for Charlie’s bonding exercises, who knows with this place. 

“I told ya’ll. Mass. Extinction. Event. Stay out the psycho’s way”

Angel’s voice became background noise in your head, your eyes focusing on the spot where Alastor just threatened everybody’s life without saying a word. As the voices dissipated around you and normalcy slowly returned to the hotel, your mind sank deeper and deeper into the mystery that was the Radio Demon. 

-

They were so oblivious, so naive. Thinking he wasn’t listening what they said about him behind his back. Thinking he was unaware of him being the topic of the discussion when he wasn’t looking. He could bathe in the smell of their fear, and he was relishing it. 

Alastor stared at the new pretty little thing that arrived at the hotel. Oh how pathetically sweet and innocent she was, thinking she was being subtle about her infatuation with him. Thinking she could hide her interest in him, when she was nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes. Oh, she was just the perfect prey for him, wrapped in this lovely red bow she wore on her hair. 

Angel was right, he was just waiting for an excuse, and she just offered him one on a silver platter. And alastor was everything but a coward. 

-

You cursed a little bit louder than you intended when you saw the blood dripping from your finger. “Stop. making. a. spectacle. of. yourself” you mentally screamed. You still could not figure Charlie’s “special stationary stapler” out, so stapling your finger was bound to happen. 

Even though it was not much, the silly little cut was stinging like a bitch, and your best efforts to stop the bleeding were futile, considering the mess on the hem of your skirt. Still high on the adrenaline from earlier, your shaking hands searched for something, anything to put on your finger so you could continue your work without anyone noticing. Everyone already had enough for one day, it was fine. 

“My dear, did you just hurt yourself?” Alastor’s voice invaded your ears. Oh, fuck. That’s it, he was going to murder you for being so incompetent with the damned stapler.

Turning to face him, you meet his piercing gaze, not sure if you should run and scream for help. “Oh no worries alastor, it’s just a small cut, i can manage!” you give him your most confident smile. 

Alastor’s head tilts, eyes burning red as he watches the small droplets of your blood make their way down your index finger.  

“Nonsense, I can't have my staff running around with injuries and bloodied clothes. We are in hell, but we are not savages, dear” He seems transfixed by the blood, and you are too scared to move, too scared to anything other than hold the weight of his gaze and hope for the best. Your lizard brain is screaming for you to run, ask for help. Maybe Charlie isn’t too far away, could you make a run for it? Somehow your survival instincts override your brain, maybe all those hours watching true crime back on earth weren’t in vain, and you decide against running. Let him initiate first. 

He catches your wrist, trapping it inside his deadly claws. His face, towering over you, comes all the way down to inspect the offending finger. You can feel his breathing on your skin. 

Your breathing stops. You swallow an imaginary lump. He’s gonna bite off your fing-

“Would you be a doll and let me take care of it? Blood being unnecessary wasted truly abhors me” 

You must have said yes at some point, you don’t really remember, now you are holding the red handkerchief he handed  you, answering his request to “please follow him”. Trailing behind the Radio Demon, both of you walk through the large corridors. 

This might be the time to scream for help. the voices inside your head warn. With every step of his feet you hear his microphone going tsk tsk tsk where it touches the ground. You are walking the death row, the paintings on the wall chanting “dead woman walking, dead woman walking”. 

“Keep pressuring the wound darling, we are almost there” he gently commands you, too gently… it feels almost… soft, pleading. The way Alastor goes from 0 to 100 is giving you whiplash. 

He slows down, reaching for the door knob of an unknown room. Ever the gentleman, he gestures for you to enter first.

the door locks behind you.

 if i’m being murdered, at least i’m being murdered with class. 

“Don’t be silly, I’m not going to murder you” Alastor says, almost singing the last part of the sentence. 

“Oh fuck, i said that out loud, didn’t I?” you blurted out 

“Yes you did. And yes, I also noticed your lovely doe eyes on me every time i’m in the room” 

Your brain short circuits. That 's it. You are dead. He’s not going to murder you (apparently), but you are going to die of embarrassment. It will feel like murder. He knows, fuck, he knows. He knows about your crush (?) and he’s going to drag you for it. You are going to be so dragged the angels will pity you and bring you to heaven. A creative way to be redeemed, Charlie should know about this. Your thoughts are going downhill as a big snowball, there are too many of them and you can’t follow a single coherent train of thought. You don’t even want to know how you look in the middle of this. You must look pathetic, truly like a doe caught in headlights. And then you hear your name once.

Twice now, in a sing-song voice.

Your eyes fly open towards the sound, breaking from the anxiety induced spell as you realize the Radio Demon had just called you, by name. He knows your name???

“Ah hahah! You’re back.” Alastor says, as he starts to circle you like a predator. Your eyes, as always, follow his across the room.

 “I don’t like to repeat myself, little doe. You heard what I asked?” 

Again, you don’t really remember answering, your brain is going AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA as you watch him pace around you, eyes burning red, demanding your attention. Teeth slightly barred, voice on the edge of something. Was that “X” on his forehead always there?

“I asked if you know what you are doing to me” static fills the room as he finishes speaking. Alastor’s clawed hand trapped your bloodied finger dangerously close to his grinning lips. Your brain is doing flips as he stares deep into your soul, and when your thoughts land you make the connection. Alastor is horny. Alastor is horny for y-

“You see, little doe, I know what your eyes hide when you desperately lower them everytime I come near you. I know how you feel you can hide in plain sight if you stay quiet enough. But I can taste it. Your fear. Your lust. In the air. In your blood.” He has a white knuckled grip on your wrist now, same with his microphone. You lower your guard, eyes going from startled to lustful. “Good thing right now there’s nothing more i want in this godforsaken pit than your lust, pet”

You want this. There’s no point in lying to yourself. You want Alastor to fuck you. You’ve fantasized about the Radio Demon taking you more times than you can count. More times than you would like to admit to yourself. This feels deeply wrong, but you crave it. 

Fuck it, you are in hell, there’s nothing to lose. Alastor is still watching you, impatiently. For the first time today you realize you actually forgot to say something. He’s waiting. Alastor is waiting for your permission. 

“Take my breath away, Alastor” 

Your permission might have been really loud, it felt like you were screaming the words. But you can’t be sure, it might have been a whisper. Either way he didn’t miss it, what happens next is fast, angry and delicious. 

Alastor pounces and licks the blood on your finger, something clicks inside him as he tastes the red liquid, because he lets go of his microphone instantly and his arms grab your waist aggressively, so forceful you wouldn’t be surprised if it breaks skin. You shouldn’t be so turned on by this, by the sight of a psychopathic demon drinking your blood. But you are, and there’s no going back. 

“Strip” he orders. You want to say to him that you can’t take your clothes off your person with him holding you like this. He must have realized the conundrum: if he wants you naked, he has to let go of you. To Alastor, letting go of you right now is simply unthinkable. So he doesn’t: you feel his claws cut the bodice of your dress open, sending the most delicious shivers down your spine. Another claw rips your skirt apart, and you are almost fully naked in the Radio Demon’s arms, pressing your body hard on his still impeccable dressed body.

It’s humiliating, it’s dangerous, it’s hot, it is delicious, to be at his complete mercy, just how you always wanted.

Somehow both of you made your way close to the enormous bed in the middle of the room. Alastor cornered you, so the only way you could escape was walking backwards towards the bed. The brilliant bastard. 

You feel your calves hitting the edge of the bed, and Alastor breaks away.

 Pity, your mind complains. Get him back to touching you again. right. now,.

“Now now, we should establish some rules for this, pet” Alastor’s hands might have stopped touching you, but his piercing eyes never did. He knocks you on top of the bed, you lay there sprawled open just for him. His hands move up to do a quick work of his bowtie

“Rule one: you will take what I give you. Nothing more, nothing less. What I give you is enough. You might feel like you can’t take anymore, but you can. You will take it, I will make you take it” He takes his tailcoat off, his frame towering over you, even with your body completely flat on the mattress and his in front of it. 

“ Rule two: every ounce of your pleasure is mine and mine only. Mine to give, mine to take. And you will give me everything. I want to hear every sound, to feel every touch, to know every nasty thought that runs inside that pretty little head of yours. You will not suppress anything, I wanna hear your moans when you make a mess of yourself as I take everything I desire from your delicious body. I will relish on your desperate screams of pleasure.Nothing outside these walls matter” He is climbing on the bed now. You hold the weight of his gaze, underneath your demonic lover’s eyes your skin burns.

“Rule three: don’t you dare cum without my permission, good girls earn their orgasms and you will be a good girl. Or else…” static starts to pick up around the room, you are seeing the blackest black that ever was, his shadows enveloping you both. Nothing outside these walls matter. “Understood?” Alastor says as he pins your hands on top of your head, against the fancy headboard. His hand cups one of your boobs and he is worrying your nipple between his sharp claws. finally finally, your mind sings. You feel a surge of magic binding your wrists in green chains, attached to the headboard. It’s overbearing, it’s ridiculous. His magic feels like him, another part of him for you to take.

He pinches your nipple particularly hard and you moan softly, pleasure and pain consuming any other sensation. You forgot to answer him, you realize. You’ve barely started and you are already being bad. “yes alastor, yes.. but please don’t stop” the soft whimper leaves your lips.

“lovely.” he replies, and with that his mouth is on your nipple, sucking it while he administers his wicked ministrations to your other one. His sharp teeth prickling on the edge of breaking skin, and you already feel like you won’t be able to take all of him. 

His hand trails down to aggressively grip your thighs, his tongue sucking the neglected nipple his fingers left. Your moans become frequent and messy, if he’s already making you go insane with the beginnings of foreplay... You might pass out and die when he starts fucking you, but you don’t care. Let him show you the true meaning of la petite mort.

“My my, what do we have here” his hand leaves your thigh to trace the wetness of your panties. A clawed finger rips it apart, the last barrier between you and total consumption by the Radio Demon. He takes the finger between your glistening lips, not entering, just teasing 

“I don’t think i will get enough of this pretty little body of ours anytime soon, pet” he says as his finger finally enters your sex, He moves his digit with an expertise you didn’t really know he had in him,  making you whimper his name, ooohs and aaaahs, your hips start threshing from the pleasure. If you continue at this pace, you will be  begging for permission to cum too soon. Pathetic. you think to yourself. Because you know how hard this building orgasm will be,you don’t know if he will grant you more than one orgasm. And will you murder you yourself if you don’t feel his cock inside you tonight. You take a deep breath in between your moans and will your hips to stay in place, your nerves to calm down. 

Alastor adds another finger, and it takes all of your willpower not to become a puddle of wetness right there. You bite your lip so hard you taste blood. 

“you do make a mess of yourself, don’t you? you just can’t help it” he says as he curls his digits inside you. Your hips start thrashing hard again, and you sink them deeper into the bed. The chains on your wrists shake with the effort to hold back. As if alastor wasn’t going to notice. “no no no what did I say?” he snaps angrily, he’s eyes flash red at you and he takes his fingers out with a wet “pop”, you feel like crying at the emptiness. “please please alastor, don’t stop” you plead. His hands leave you entirely, you are left with just his piercing gaze, the one that makes your skin burn. “did I say you could hold back? don’t pretend like you aren’t a common whore for me, that you love how pathetic it feels that you are creaming yourself and we haven’t even really started” 

his condescending tone just makes everything even more sublime. It’s so wrong how good being told you are nothing more than a common whore by the Radio Demon feels. But you never felt anything close to this. “please Alastor” you beg again, nothing but a small whisper

“I would love to taste this pussy, so red already for me, but since you broke one of the rules… i’m afraid I will make you understand that are nothing but my pretty cockslut the hard way” 

Punishment? His punishment sounds ever better than his praise right now. You moan at his voice. He laughs. 

His knees cage you, as he lifts his upper body from you and starts undoing his zipper. He is taking his cock out. Oh fuck, he’s gonna fuck you without anymore foreplay. And he’s not going to be gentle about it either. You shiver. 

Alastor pumps himself a few times, his cock is big, thick, and an angry red shade, flush red like that, because of you, just for you. He’s gonna make you pay: pay for holding back from him, pay for making him feel like an animal and almost losing his hard constructed control. 

The look on his face says it all, he’s gonna take it out on you and you can’t do nothing about it.

You don’t have much time to think about the repercussions, in one swift motion his tip is already inside you, stretching you deliciously. Your brain short circuits again, the feeling of his cock inside you is everything you imagine and more. Depraved, heavenly, delicious. You struggle in your binds again, you want desperately to touch him. To feel his skin beneath your finger, to scratch him, mark him. But oh well, he’s the Radio Demon, he’s the one in charge and you are his prey.

Alastor starts to slowly enter you, he’s trying his best to hold back. He knows if he does this too fast it will hurt in a way he doesn’t want you to feel. And by the look on his face going slow is as torturous for him as it is for you. tantalizing inch after tantalizing inch he spreads the walls of your cunt apart. You understand now why this is punishment, it hurts in a perfect way, it hurts even more that he is doing it slowly, and not just thrusting like you imagined  he would, if he had more time to work on you. 

You become a mess of moans and incoherent words. His cock is halfway inside you now “HoLY FUCK ALASTOR” you scream. It’s already too much. 

“There’s nothing holy about this my dear. I’m going to breed you. I’m going to break you” and with that he buries himself to the hilt inside you. Now you truly scream in pleasure and pain “you won’t be able to walk straight for days, you will feel me in every step, and you will thank me for it”. His thrusts pick up at breakneck speed, the bed shakes from the sheer force that Alastor is using to fuck you. Every snap of his hips you moan more and more. 

The sound you make when he takes everything out and enters you at once is so obscene that it would make Angel Dust blush. He’s growling now, his antlers growing bigger as he fucks you like his life dependend on it. As he fucks you like he hates you. 

Alastor pushes your hips higher, and suddenly he’s even deeper. His other hand holding your waist in a bruising grip. The strain on your pinned hands will bruise too. His lips graze the skin of your collarbone, he looks so feral you are scared he will maul, the thrill of not knowing adding to your fucked up sense of pleasure. 

He seems to pick up on your fear, and bites down on your collarbone, hauling as he tastes your blood and buries himself inside you again and again. Moans turned into screams, and the only thing coming out of your lips is his name, spoken like a profane prayer. You would give everything you have to Alastor, and he doesn’t even have to ask.

Your orgasm has been building for a while now, the coil on your belly becoming tighter and tighter, like a supernova about to be born. “Alastor, please please let me come” you beg. His unfocused eyes stare down at you, as he takes a moment from feasting on your sweet blood to address your desperate, sweet pleas.

“Don’t. You. Dare” he says, punctuating every word with a sharp thrust. As much as you want, you are not sure you will be able to hold any longer. “I beg you alastor, please let me cum, i will let you do anything you want. but i need it so badly, please please”

You sounded so desperate when you begged, so beautiful.

“Don’t strike deals you don’t know you can fulfill, pet” his voice is low, a warning. You ignore it. “I promise Alastor, anything”. Alastor laughs.

 his finger touches your clit as he finally allows your sweet relief “you may come now, sweet doe” and that’s it, you are off, you are dead. You see stars, you see the entire universe as you scream out and climax. Walls tightening around Alastor’s monster cock, eyes rowling, his name a scream on your lips. You ride out your wave slowly, but Alastor is not slowing down.

Instead he is picking up his pace, maneuvering your hips even higher, your chains are stretched to the limit. You can feel them start piercing your skin. Thrust after thrust the sensation becomes too much, you are too overstimulated to go through all of this again.

“i can’t take it, i can’t take it!”

Alastor doesn’t care. “I told you not to make deals if you can’t hold them, didn’t I?” You don’t answer, you can’t. you can’t to anything but let him fuck you as hard and as much as he want. “but you are such a little cockslut for me that you can’t help it. What a shame” 

He is gripping your hips so hard it breaks skin, tiny trails of blood on his claws. “you will take it. You better take it, or I will make you take it” static picks up as he threatens the last words. You know you are spent, you know how bad it hurts, you know how bad his words sound, but the lines between pleasure and pain are so blurred that you can’t think coherently. Even this  pain of being broken feels good. 

Still, tears fill your eyes and you start crying, from pleasure, from pain, you don’t know anymore. What Alastor is doing to you has no precedent. No one can do this like he does. He knows torture too well, and he is tortouring you in the most decadent, delicious ways possible. “alastor i want to, i want to so bad but i just can’t” the tears sting your eyes and stain your face. 

Alastor sees it. He slows down just a bit, his voice softening “oh my dear doe, but you can. Just this once more, just for me. One more” his voice is so maddening soft it acts like fuel to your tears. Your skin tingles and you feel giddy, somehow your throbbing hot, wet cunt seems to find the right amount of relief, and you can feel only pleasure again.

Alastor continues to fuck you, your moans returning to normal, you are being so loud now, making a mess of yourself, just like he said, and a big hand comes to cover your mouth. 

“Oh we can’t have you being this loud can we?” his voice goes to that delicious mocking tone. His thrusts are slower now, but as deep as they can go. “what would you friends say if they found out that you moan like a common whore for their feared radio demon.. hum,.?”

You start to feel the pit of your belly tightening again, and alastor doesn’t stop humiliating you. The degradation feels just the right amount of perfection. You are exactly what he says you are. A common whore when it comes to him. “weren’t you ashamed just a few moments ago? trying to hold back the sinful sounds you make when I touch you? I already gave you one orgasm. I’ve been way too generous for my liking. I should stop right now since you feel so conscious about this”  Alator’s breathing is becoming erratic, his thrusts sharp, hard, and out of the breakneck rhythm he was torturing you before.You start moaning even louder through his hand. “ungrateful little pet. You are just so greedy for one more orgasm, you don’t even care that everyone downstairs can hear you hm??”

You can’t think straight. you feel on the edge of glory, this orgasm threatening to be harder than your previous one, as if it is possible. “alastor i’m so sorry, i know i don’t deserve it” you muffle behind his hand, he hears you speaking and takes if off “but can you please let me cum? just this once? just for you. Please Al” his thrusts are truly erratic now. He’s close too, even though you are too wrapped up on your own sensations to notice 

“please” you beg, nothing more than a whisper. Already making peace with the fact that you are going to come without his permission and he will probably never fuck you again

“Good girl, you can come now”

instantly as you are granted his permissions your world explodes, blinding hot pleasure takes over your body, the waves of pleasure making your heart beat so fast you feel like it’s going to stop. The petit mort is coming, and her sweet embrace envelops you, specially now that you feel Alastor’s cock twitching and spilling his seed inside you. You scream his name. Maybe you hear him screaming yours too. You don’t know anymore, your nerves are singing from pleasure unheard of back  when you were alive. Pleasure so great it could only be found in hell. The most heavily, depraved way of torture. 

You come down from your high, still dizzy, your body going limp. You are not dead, but you are positively spent. You give in into the warm and fuzziness of sleep. 

The last thing you remember is the softness of a blanket, a gentle kiss on your cheek.

“Oh my dear, I knew you had one more on you,spending yourself this way just for me! What a truly precious thing, doe”

You might be dreaming now.

-

You weren’t dreaming. Alastor praises you, knowing his words will be the last thing you hear before a night of peaceful, deep dreamless slumber. He makes sure to put the softest velvet blanket he owns on your body, not to make the damage you gladly allowed your body to take for him an inconvenience. Tomorrow you will wake up to fancy letters of praise and sweet chocolate covered strawberries. And no one will know how Alastor found the perfect doe to breed as he pleases during the height of his mating season.

[zyhkoo]

☆ I need a doctor, oh! batboys x medic!reader

fluff, gn!reader

they surprise you while you work

a/n: i was inspired by this one tiktok that says “my husband thought he could escape me so i made an appointment “ i thought it was so cute haha

Bruce Wayne

Breaktime, finally. You sighed and leaned into a chair in your personal break room. You loved your job as a medic, but the problem is it was just so tiring. You closed your eyes, your body relaxing to the comfortable silence around you.

Being a Vigilante by night and a doctor by day was a very tiring job.

Sleep was almost non-existent on work days, the most you got was three to six hours. You looked like an ill patient instead of a doctor at this point. But the hospital wasn’t busy today, so you went to the break room to relax.

Tap tap tap.

There was something tapping on the window, but you didn’t care to check whatever it was, so you continued to close your eyes.

Tap tap tap tap tap tap!

“…”

The tapping sounded more aggressive now, you groaned and turned your chair to the window.

“Oh my god..”

And there he was, in his signature bat suit and with that grim look on his face. You immediately walked up and opened the window. You helped Bruce sit on a chair as he tries not to fall on you.

He removed his helmet and there were a series of injuries and bruises on his poor face.

“What happened? I thought you didn’t have any patrols till later?” you frowned, your hands holding his face so you view him better.

He replied back with his gruff and clearly intimidating voice “Duty calls.” yeah of course.

You sighed, “Well.. you stay here okay? I’ll find something to patch you up, I’ll lock the door so no one sees you.” Bruce gently holds the hand that was touching his face.

“Thank you.”

Jason Todd

You had just finished patching up a patient in the emergency room, you wiped the sweat off your forehead and stretched. Today was a busy day, but it was normal. There are patients getting admitted left to right and your job was to tend to them.

“Um, doc..” one of the nurses approached you, you looked at her “Yes? What’s the matter?” you asked.

She fidgeted “Uh, we have a patient and he told us he specifically wanted to be treated by you..?”

Your brow raised “Me specifically? Do I know who they are?” you asked, your tone was skeptical.

The nurses led you to the room this mysterious patient was in. You opened the door to see Jason with his full suit on with injuries all over. As well as flowers on his left hand…

Your eyes widened as you immediately locked the door.

“Hi, Doc.” Jason greets casually “Jason why are you here? Hold on, let me take a look.” you said as you took a good look at his scars.

“Nearest safe house was 2 kilometers away and this was way near.” he replied, for a moment you blankly stared at the flowers on his hand. “What are these for?”

Jason looked at the flowers then at you “I thought I could give you a gift on the way.” he shrugs.

Dick Grayson

“Here's the next patient doc, they’re in your office.” the nurse gives you the details about your next patient. You smiled and took the folder “Thank you.”

You loved your job as a vet, you got along well with your sweet co-workers and you had this passion with animals.

As you read the document in your hands, you found all of this strangely familiar. You opened the door to the room and yep you're right.

There he was, with his signature goofy grin and the adorable dog in his arms.

“Hey Doc, looking good as always.” he slyly says, Haley barked clearly excited to see you as well. You scoffed, but you can’t help but smile as well.

You know for a fact Haley is definitely well, you and Dick had just strolled her around the park a day ago. You did the checkup anyway and nothing was wrong.

“She could use a vaccine, she needs her rabies shots.” Dick says, you put your stethoscope down and nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” you said.

But Dick was not satisfied. “Hey, hey, hey, miss, vet, doc?” you stopped your tracks and turned to him “No kiss? What is this?” you sighed as you walked back to him and kissed him on the cheek.

“See you in a minute doc.” he grins, you said nothing and quickly walked away.

The nurses and staff snickered and teased you all day, you couldn’t do anything but flush at their attempts of teasing you.

discoed server

[roses-for-rosalyn]

Cowboys

Ellie x reader

Part 1

Part 3

Summary: a trip to the local saloon? With a man?!

Wc: 2.1 k (shorter ik sorry)

For the ao3 girlies

Cw: cowboy! Ellie x fem! reader, drinking, reader gets drunk, Jesse (just a little side character), mentions of domestic violence, reader has trauma!, reader has scars, lesbian touching and yearning, lots of talking

Minors DNI (fr)

Seriously there’s some descriptions of abuse here y’all I tried to keep it vague, but it’s important I promise! I am not the kind of author who gives the reader trauma for literally no reason. That being said if this isn’t your cup of tea I’ll see you in another chapter or different fic!

LINKS TO HELP PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK

You wake up with the sun. The warm light forced its way through your eyelids, refusing to be ignored. You got up and attempted to get dressed as quietly as possible. You use the reflection of a steel pan to pin your hair back.

You liked the mornings, normally you were very alone, but even with company, it was a peaceful time. Golden light filters through your windows, everything and everyone is still beginning to wake up. It’s quiet.

A face appears behind yours in the reflection of the pan.

“Mornin.” Her voice was a bit low and gravelly.

“Mornin, where are you off to today?” You finish flattening out the last little stubborn hairs and turn towards her. Her eyes were still heavy with sleep, and bruises had begun to form on her face, but with the way she carried herself, you would never know what happened last night.

“Was thinking of going to the next town over, I have a few people to talk to.” You grab your boots from the floor and sit in the same wooden chair Ellie had last night. You try not to think about how close you were or how warm she felt against your fingertips as you lace up your shoes.

“You’re lucky you have that bandana.” You stand up and grab the hem of the fabric. “You’re a bit of a mess.” You pinch her chin between your thumb and forefinger and force her to turn to the side, and for some reason she lets you. You turn her the other way, inspecting the intensity of the bruises. “These’ll be gone in a week.” You brush your finger over a particularly deep purple bruise on her jaw, she flinches a bit even at your featherlight touch. “This one maybe two.”

“Whatever you say doc,” she replies with a laugh. You let go of her chin and head towards the door.

“I have to go, but you’ll be back before dark right?” Ellie just nods and you leave, hoping that she does actually come back.

** **

Today when you’re locking up the schoolhouse you hear a different voice, “Hi there, sunshine!”

You turn around and see Jesse. You usually didn’t see him at this time of day. He walks towards you like he has something to say.

“What’re you up to today?” He asks with a charming smile on his face.

“I was just going to head home and have dinner. How about you?” You really didn’t care to hear his plans for the day, but you had to be polite.

“I was hopin’ you might accompany me to a show at Buckhorn tonight?” His eyes are hopeful, he reminded you of a little boy, he hadn’t had the same life you did. You had really hoped you wouldn’t have to deal with him asking to court you, not completely sure you could manage to say no. You didn’t have a good reason for refusing, and who knows what he would say about you if you denied him.

“Um, alright, I suppose I could go. I can’t stay too late though, I don’t like ridin’ in the dark.” You manage a smile. Jesse looks like he is just barely keeping himself from jumping up and down in celebration.

He nods, “I will make sure you get home safe and sound darlin’. Suppose we should head on over then.” You untie your horse and take her by the lead, walking beside Jesse to the saloon.

You didn’t have much to talk about, the conversation was mostly small talk. You let him ramble on about his journeys to Santa Fe, the Apaches he’s encountered, hostile cowboys, thieves. No one ever actually threatened him, just passed by, but with the way he told the stories you would think he would be covered in scars and bruises.

You finally make it to the saloon, Jesse orders you both whiskey. You down it like a shot and Jesse seems surprised, but not appalled like you would have expected. “You want another?” he asks with raised eyebrows and a laugh.

“Yes please.” You smile up at him, a little more genuine. Maybe you could have fun, with enough liquor in your system you could get along with anyone. Drunk you was charming, magnetic, bubbly, men usually tolerated that a little better. Plus the drinks were free.

The band starts playing and you pull Jesse out on the wooden dancefloor. The music pulls at your limbs. As you dance with him you feel smooth as water, the more you drink the smoother you feel. Soon enough you’re leaning into his chest, swaying to the music. The night went by in a blur. You are at the bar getting another round of drinks when you see a familiar set of eyes appear at the entrance.

She makes a beeline towards you, shouldering people out of the way as she approaches. Her eyes look angry, but all she does is brush her hand down your arm like she was making sure you were real.

“I couldn’t find you.” She says, and you swear everything and everyone else melts away as she speaks.

She was looking for you.

“I was here.” You say with a drunk smile, relieved to see her. “With Jesse.” you point over to him. She doesn’t even bother to look. You lean in towards her to whisper, “He’s pretty boring, but he gave me free drinks.” you hold up a glass of whiskey as proof, slightly swaying with the movement.

“I’m gonna take you home.” She says gently.

“That would be very nice, I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t want to take me all the way out there. Just let me go tell him.” You haven’t stopped smiling since you saw her.

“Alright,” she nods, “I’ll be waitin’ for ya by the door.”

You stumble over to him, “Jesse, I gotta head home.”

“Ok let me go get my-”

“No need, my bodyguard over there is takin’ me home.” You point to the masked cowgirl by the door. Jesse looks at you, confused.

“I’ll explain it to you another time, I promise I’m safe with him.” You pat him on the shoulder for reassurance.

“Can I at least talk to him? So I can know you’re safe.” Well at least he seemed to actually care about you, not just the concept of you.

“I don’t see why not,” you grab his hand, it’s large and rough, his palm felt like sandpaper against yours, “follow me.” You lead him towards the cowgirl. She’s standing with her arms crossed, observing the drunkards surrounding her.

“Hi,” her head snaps towards the sound of your voice, her eyes soften.

“Hello darlin’,” she runs her hand alongside your arm again. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her touch. She looks behind you at the man you’ve brought over to her. “Who’s this?”

“This is Jesse,” you pull him so he’s standing alongside you causing him to stumble a bit. You giggle. “He wanted to make sure you were gettin’ me home safe. Said he wanted to talk to you.”

Ellie reaches out her hand to shake his, “M’ Joel,” she says in a gruff voice. Jesse’s eyes widen a bit. You hadn’t heard her man voice yet, it was a little silly. “Why don’t you go wait by my horse darlin’? I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Um, alright.” You didn’t love being booted from a conversation like that, but you were starting to get tired and your feet were starting to ache.

You walked out of the saloon to Ellie’s horse. You feel light and heavy at the same time. Then you remember you brought your own horse here. Your thoughts were so jumbled.

You walk over to grab her, untying her lead after a bit of a struggle. Figuring you would pony her over to the house. You would not ride horseback drunk. Again.

By the time you get back to Ellie’s horse she’s waiting for you. She grabs the lead from your hands and helps you up onto the horse. You were going to try like hell to remember the feeling of her hands on your hips.

“Thank you good sir,” you say with a giggle. She just shakes her head and mounts the horse, grabbing your horses lead before her horse begins to trot away from the saloon towards the quiet desert.

You probably couldn’t help the way you leaned against her back, pressing your body to hers. She was so warm. Your hands wrapped nice and tight around her waist and she hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even moved. She stayed sitting right up staring straight ahead. You couldn’t bring yourself to remember why you shouldn’t be doing this. You only knew that you wanted to and that’s what mattered right now.

“Who’s Joel?” You asked, cheek pressed against her leather coat.

“He’s- he was a friend.” She can barely disguise the sorrow in her voice.

“Was he your husband or somethin’?” Questions tend to just pour out of you in this state with no regard for the person you’re asking.

“No, no he was a good friend.”

“Mm, you’re lucky you never had a husband.”

“Why?”

“Well I don’t know if all husbands are like how mine was, but I wouldn’t try it again, just in case.”

“What happened?” You let the sound of the horses hooves hitting the dirt path fill the silence for a moment. You hadn’t really told anyone what happened in your house on the edge of town, where no one could hear you or see you.

“Well, I’ll start at the beginning I suppose. My daddy got sick, real sick and he wanted me to have a man to take care of me after he was gone. So I married a man he chose for me. I didn’t know him, I barely saw him before we got married. But I wanted to make sure my daddy could die knowing I’d be taken care of, so I did it. I still regret going through with it.” You nuzzle your cheek into her back, trying to get impossibly closer. “I still don’t like to think about our wedding night.”

“I’m sorry darlin’ you don’t have to-”

“No I want to, I haven’t said anything to anyone about this before. Kinda feels nice, I feel lighter. Anyways, we moved into that tiny house. It didn’t take long for him to get mean, real mean. Since we lived so far away, no one could hear the screamin’ and yellin’. I still have some scars from that him, that’s why I had that medical kit for you when you got hurt. I’ve had to clean myself up more times than I’d like to admit.” You let out an empty laugh.

“Where is he now?” Ellie’s voice has an anger in it that was terrifying, the type that was calm and sure. She knew exactly how she would remedy it.

“Well, every time he would hurt me I would threaten to shoot ‘em. He would laugh in my face like I had told some sort of fucked up joke. Here let me show you somethin’.” You hike up your dress, exposing the large scar on your thigh. You grab Ellie’s hand from the reins and place it on the Scar, her fingertips run gently across it, like she would hurt you if she pressed too hard. She traces around the jagged raised skin, it was like she was trying to put a picture of it together in her head. “The night he did that I shot him right in the chest. He was an evil, evil man. No one missed him. He’s buried about 500 feet from the house, his grave is unmarked.”

You feel Ellie’s body relax a bit. “That’s good. You did good.” She’s still absentmindedly running her hand along your thigh. The feeling made your breath hitch. Your whole body grows hot. You hadn’t ever felt anything like that. “He deserved it, I hope you know that.”

“Still doesn’t feel good though, didn’t make me feel any better when he was dead. The only thing that changed was that I was safe again.” You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding when her hand slowly leaves your thigh, pulling your dress back down for you.

“Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. Sometimes it feels like the only solution though.”

“Yeah it does.”

** **

You’re half asleep by the time the horse stops in front of your house. You barely manage to lift your head up, but somehow you get off the horse.

“Go on inside, I’ll get the horses settled.” She didn’t have to tell you twice.

You were halfway to the house when you remembered, “Ellie,”

“Yes?”

“Come and sleep inside tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Taglist: @elliewilliamgfooc @bready101 @sakiigami @wishbones999 @a-little-bit-of-everybody @ellabssweetheart @lily-fics-11

If ur name is crossed out it wouldn’t let me tag u

Lmk what yall think! Notes, comments and reposts always appreciated! Thank you for all the support!

Ch. 3

[favefandomimagines]

Back in the Saddle (t.o)

Request: @glenxjesse “I was wondering if I could request a Tyler Owen/reader. Where reader fell off her horse and got pretty badly injured with a concussion and a shattered heel bone and needed surgery and Tyler takes time off of wrangling to take care of her while she’s laid up, making sure she has everything she needs and carrying her around to different rooms because she hates her crutches and he’s worried about her falling again, also comforting her at night when the pain is really bad and she can’t sleep. Last year I fell off my horse with those exact injuries and I just feel like Tyler would be the most attentive, comforting boyfriend. Thank you! Please feel free to change whatever you want! And if you don’t want to write it I understand as well! Hope you’re doing well! Love your writing by the way!”

AN: I am SO SORRY this took me so long!!! Life got in the way and I totally forgot! I hope you all enjoy some Tyler Owens fluff!

Summary: Tyler puts his storm chasing on hold to take care of Y/N after a horse riding accident and there’s no where else he’d rather be.

Tyler’s boots scuffed the dirt as he moved slowly across the ranch, his broad hat shielding him from the unforgiving late afternoon sun. The sky stretched vast and blue, with a hint of dark clouds building on the horizon, the kind that usually sent him chasing after the storms in his beat-up red truck.

But today wasn’t like most days. He wasn’t tracking any storms or watching the sky for funnels with Boone. Today, he was watching over Y/N.

Y/N sat on the porch, her right leg elevated and wrapped in a thick cast. Her face, normally flushed with color from riding her horse under the big sky, was pale. The pain was evident in her tight grip on the armrest of the chair. A concussion and a shattered heel—the doctor had said it could’ve been worse when she fell off her horse, but to Tyler, it already felt like a nightmare.

She had to have surgery to repair her foot and her recovery time is 3-4 months. Which for Tyler felt like an eternity. Afraid something else could wrong while she wasn’t mobile enough to protect herself.

He walked up to her, gently placing his hand on her shoulder. "You need anything?" His voice was soft, like a breeze passing through the fields, but beneath it was a current of concern.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes heavy with the exhaustion of pain and sleepless nights. "I’m fine, really. Just... tired of these stupid crutches. My arms are killing me."

Tyler crouched beside her, his face level with hers. "I know it’s hard, darlin’. But you gotta take it easy for a bit. The crutches are a pain, but they’re helping you heal."

She let out a huff, frustrated. "I hate being stuck here. You should be out chasing storms, Tyler. Not babysitting me."

"Hey," Tyler said firmly, but his smile softened the edge in his voice. "This ain’t babysitting. This is takin’ care of you. And I wouldn’t be anywhere else."

Her lips quirked into a small smile, though she tried to hide it. "I don’t want to hold you back."

"You ain’t holdin’ me back, baby. I’d miss a hundred storms if it meant bein’ here with you. Don’t you know that by now?"

Y/N’s eyes flickered, a mixture of relief and guilt dancing in their depths. She reached out and took his hand. "I’m sorry, Ty. I just... I hate being this helpless."

Tyler stood and pulled her into a gentle hug, mindful of her injuries. "Ain’t nothin’ helpless about you. You’re one of the toughest women I’ve ever known. But right now, tough means lettin’ yourself heal. And I’m here to help with that. It’s what I want to do."

For the first time all day, Y/N’s shoulders relaxed. She rested her head against his chest, letting his steady heartbeat calm her restless mind. "Thank you."

They stayed like that for a few minutes, the setting sun casting a warm glow over the porch. Tyler finally pulled back, a playful grin on his face. "Now, how ‘bout we get you inside? Doc said you need to rest."

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. "I’ve been resting all day."

"Yeah, but you haven’t had my world-famous chicken noodle soup yet," Tyler teased.

"Oh really? World-famous, huh?"

"In at least three counties," he said with a wink.

Tyler scooped her up in his arms and carried her towards the front door. “You know you’re supposed to do this when you get married, right?” Y/N questioned. “Hey, it’s good practice.” He replied.

||

That night, Tyler sat beside the bed, his boots kicked off and his legs stretched out in front of him. Y/N lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, her face contorted in pain she was trying hard to hide. But Tyler noticed. He always noticed.

He leaned over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "You okay?"

Y/N blinked, her eyes glistening. "It’s just... the pain. It’s worse at night. I feel like I can’t get away from it."

Without hesitation, Tyler slipped into bed beside her, carefully wrapping his arms around her without putting pressure on her leg. He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"I’m right here, darlin’," he whispered. "I ain’t goin’ nowhere."

Y/N took a shaky breath. "I know. But I don’t want to keep you up all night."

Tyler kissed the top of her head, his lips warm and comforting. "Don’t worry ‘bout that. Sleep or no sleep, I’m here. You don’t have to go through this alone."

She buried her face into his chest, the familiar scent of him—earth and leather, storm clouds and fresh hay—giving her a sense of peace she hadn’t felt all day. "Ty... what if this takes longer than 4 months to heal? What if I’m not the same afterward?"

Tyler’s grip tightened just a little, enough to reassure her without hurting her. "Then it takes longer. And if you ain’t the same, we’ll figure it out together. You think I’m here just for the ridin’ and the fun days? No. I’m here for all of it. The good, the bad, and whatever comes next."

Y/N swallowed hard, her eyes closing as the pain seemed to lessen, just a bit, with his words. "I don’t deserve you."

"Now, that’s where you’re wrong," Tyler said, his voice soft but firm. "You deserve the world, Y/N. And if I can give you even a piece of it, I will. You’re my whole world."

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn’t expected him to say something so raw, so vulnerable. "You mean that?"

Tyler chuckled softly, his voice rumbling in his chest. "More than you know."

Y/N snuggled closer, her body relaxing into his. The pain was still there, but it wasn’t as sharp, not when she was wrapped in the safety of his arms. "I love you, Tyler."

"I love you too, darlin’," he murmured, his lips pressing softly against her forehead. "And I’m here for the long haul. Ain’t nowhere else I’d rather be."

The night stretched on, the sky outside dark and the stars shining. Tyler stayed awake, his arms around Y/N, listening to her breathing slowly even out as she finally drifted into sleep. He didn’t mind missing the storms. There would always be another tornado, another season. But there was only one Y/N, and she was worth every missed chase, every long night spent by her side.

As he lay there in the dark, the distant rumble of thunder echoed from far-off storms, but Tyler didn’t stir. His focus was here, on the woman he loved.

And as long as she needed him, that’s exactly where he’d be.

[dex0s]

💋MY DEAD HEART • ZOMBIESukuna X Gn reader WARNING: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT , NON-con/rape, main character death, cannibalism, humiliation, bad ending, public?, gore, animals, DARK CONTENT, age-gap, small plot/smut, violence mention, lazy ending, not proof read, MDNI 18+

A/N—hello.. how have u been.. that’s good. Bye! *disappears for 4 months*

You had studying subject 01 King of Zombies or what he calls himself Sukuna with some other scientists and as you can imagine it not a pretty sight to see. Like the normal things you would think of a zombie is he will human or animal flesh but yet he can be picky with it or he can do something disturbing to the flesh.

Flashback

You were walk to subject 01/ Sukuna test area. It was a huge metal door about 8ft tall with electrified bar along side with talismans all over.

“Good morning Mx.name” one of the security welcoming you, “you doing a check up on subject 01 today?” Finished the guard.

“Yes you are right. I have to check out what that 01 did with our experiment…” walking towards the door, one of the guards scanned his badge unlocking the door to the lab room. Yet before you could take your first step the other guard turned to you a said, “ I would be care in there even if there’s another door… the night guards told me that they heard some freaky shit coming inside.”

“Well thanks for the warning” you finished, walking in the lab the door closed behind you. Looking at the window in front of you the fake forest seems empty but you know better. Getting closer you can see a deer and when examining closer you can finally see what that disgusting creature did… it fucked the deer to death.

Cum spilling out of it hole, the poor hole was stretched on the unimaginable size, you can also see bites taken revealing the flesh underneath. Writing down this information not knowing the something so sneaking up on you.

*boom*

Quick turning to the sound you can see subject 01 smiling at you and what you assume to be deer blood on his face and hands.

“Do you like my master piece doc?” Sukuna asked. Going back to you notes you continue writing. After a few seconds Sukuna started to get annoyed that you were responding, “you think you can just ignore me doc!? I know you can hear me! Don’t go thinking your better then me, I’m the king and you are the peasant—just wait until I get out of here, you are going to be my first victim!?”

End of Flashback

You still remember the way he spoke to you—hate and disgust. Yet that didn’t stop you from coming back to work. The pay was good and you can live your happy ever after.

Parking in your spot. You walk up to the building, once you give in the doors you see no one at the front desk. Looking a around seeing if you can find someone. You captures something you wouldn’t want to see in a million years.

Over the counter of the desk, there lay a woman with bite marks and a chuck of her head bitten off. “I- what the hell happened here?” You asked yourself. Going around the desk you check the body, yet before that the body started to shake violently. Moving away and hiding you behind the desk. Trying to stay quiet you can hear movement then sudden silence.

Hearing Growling on top of you, quick looking up you can see the “woman” looking down at you with a hungry look. Quickly getting up u run towards a door that requires your key card. Looking back the “woman” is running at you full force.

Scrimmaging through your lab coat you found it. Briskly you open the door and just how quickly it opened it quickly closed. Hearing the bangs behind you. U decided to move away before that thing breaks in. With red lights going off and on you can somewhat see that all the subjects doors are open. Due to that u started to walk quietly. Once you get to subjects 01 door their are body’s littering the floor.

Before u can get away you get slam to the ground. “Look who we have hear” you know that voice… that’s the same voice that said that you would be their first victim. Feeling your clothes getting ripped off u try to break out but you know that wouldn’t happen.

Before you can even start to think Sukuna slam his two cocks in your ass/pussy. Hollering and screaming you kick your feet. Grabbing your feet he saids “I told you that u would be the first and then I will move on to the next women/male/person. Enjoy this time while you can because after this your time will be over”. Moaning in pain you can feel Sukuna bit down on your neck.

Feeling that harsh bite you scream due to the agonizing pain. Not thinking straight you see him eating something. Skin. Your skin. With Sukuna still thrusting in you and the pain from your wound you can feel yourself about the black out.

Around you hearing of feet pattering u see subjects looking at you. Laughing at your pain, laughing at your tears, “look at that you have a little crowd laughing at you” Sukuna mocks you. Not able to hold your bladder is piss on his cock/stomach. “Ew did you just piss on me?!” Making sure the people around you can hear. The laughter starts to get louder and louder.

Crying is all you can do, you can’t yell for help because nobody cares, you can’t get out of Sukuna hold because your weak, feeling your end approaching. you called out forgiveness for your sins hoping that when you see the golden gate that you will be forgiven. Closing your eyes for the last time your ears pick up something…

“see you in hell bitch” was the last words Sukuna said before cumming his load in you.

[maidflowery]

Pinky Promise

Jiaoqiu x Reader

You have a bad day and Jiaoqiu is there for you. But unbeknownst to you...

An extremely shitty day.

That was the only way to describe it.

Where absolutely nothing went right. When you thought it couldn't get worse, but it did.

But at least now by leaning against the table, faceplanting it, you could forget your anger, sorrow, frustration, even if just a moment.

How you wish you could just disappear.

Just then, you heard the door opening gently.

"You forgot to lock the front door again."

A smooth, silvery voice rang.

You didn't bother to look up. You already knew who that was. Besides, he had sent you a chat informing his visit beforehand.

Just then, you caught a whiff of a sweet-smelling fragrance...

...Chocolate?

You peeked through the gap in your arms.

True enough, the pink Foxian stood there, with a porcelain cup in his hand. He was your neighbor.

You found him buried in the snow, injured, but that was a story for another time. After you saved him, he moved in next door, and even gave you his key.

Ever since you learned how much of a good cook he was, you'd pester him to cook for you. As such, you didn't really mind that he invited himself into your room.

Jiaoqiu was smiling, but when he noticed your gaze, he leaned in slightly.

"Well, despite my advice, it seems that someone went ahead and pulled an all-nighter anyway."

His kind tone bore soft admonishment.

Your puffy red eyes must've been a dead giveaway. Yeah, you weren't only sad, but tired.

Under normal circumstances, you'd have countered it with, 'Whachu gonna do about it, Doc? Feed me chillies?'

By the way, he was actually a doctor. He'd often give you health advice, which sometimes went ignored.

"...There was an important presentation today." You could only muster a weak reply.

"You've mentioned. How did it go?"

"...Well, I-I did my best, but..."

"Well done."

"...But I messed up. I couldn't answer the professor's questions, and he threatened to fail me. I'll have to make up for it by doing a bunch of assignments later..."

Even though some passed it for so much less. All that effort, down the drain because the professor felt like giving you hell today. But it is what it is.

"...Well done."

Was it just your feeling, or did his voice sound softer...?

And no, it wasn't sarcasm. You knew he was far too kind for that.

You finally looked up.

"!"

Jiaoqiu's gentle smile was unchanging as always, without a shred of disappointment.

"I'm sorry to hear about the unsatisfactory result. But I know how hard you worked for it. So, well done."

The smile of someone who never stopped believing you.

Suddenly, something hot trickled down your cheek. Realizing what it was, you immediately buried your face in your arms.

"W-what about you? You never told me why you were visiting!"

"I tried my hands at making something."

Clink.

You could hear the sound of a cup being placed down on the table, right in front of you.

"This is..."

Almost immediately, you were tantalized by the rich, sweet fragrance of cocoa, mixed with the bitterness of coffee.

"Ah, the cafe that had a wonderful Creamy Coco Frappuccino shut down... How I wish I can taste it again..."

Once, you had said that in front of him in passing.

Jiaoqiu's culinary expertise was Chinese cuisine, and more often than not, traditional. Most of the time, he didn't recognize the modern and trendy dishes you mentioned. For example, cafes and their stylists drink.

But ever since that day, you found new recipe books strewn around his place. Rather than messy, it just seemed as if someone was trying to pinpoint a certain recipe, no matter how long it took.

Afterward, he'd cook the dishes you mentioned, one after another.

Sometimes, you didn't even remember bringing them up.

Yet, he remembered, kept your words in his heart, and wholeheartedly cooked them for you, one by one.

"I'm experimenting with something."

"I cooked too much. Why don't you have some?"

"I tried my hands at this."

Every time, he'd say such things, probably to not make you feel bad.

This drink was also one of them. The rim of the cup was even coated with hardened chocolate, and sprinkled with rock sugars, like in those cafes.

"Why don't you give it a try?" Jiaoqiu urged you.

Without further ado, you took a sip of the drink.

Creamy rich chocolate, bittersweet coffee, and milky caramel flowed into your mouth, pampering your taste buds. Gradually, your broken heart was being mended.

You placed the half-empty cup down, silently staring at the swirling liquid.

"How is it?" He asked with a hint of anticipation.

"...Jiaoqiu, marry me."

"...!!"

Overflowing with gratitude, happiness, and warmth, those words just spilled out.

Your eyes were getting heavier for some reason.

...Right, you didn't sleep at all last night, re-reading the materials and all.

I'm so sleepy...

As your consciousness faded, you saw Jiaoqiu reaching out toward you.

"Promise me, then."

He presented you his pinky finger.

Under the dazzling sunlight, his pink hair fluttered, reminiscent of fallen cherry blossoms. He gave you a smile just as bright, if not brighter than the sun.

So, how could you resist?

Before you fell asleep, you remembered hooking fingers with him.

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

Jiaoqiu carried the sleeping girl to her room, before tucking her in.

Then, he peered into her face.

"...Jiaoqiu, marry me."

Even as he recalled it, his heart skipped a beat. It was a rare physical phenomenon for him, probably once in a lifetime. Jiaoqiu only recalled experiencing it twice. Just now, and when she nursed him to health back then.

"...Whether you spoke without thinking, sleep talked, or just joked, you've made a promise."

Golden eyes shimmered under the shadow.

"If you go back on your words, I'll chase you until the end of earth."

︶꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶꒷꒦‧ ₊˚・

Extra

After that, with the support, afternoon snacks, and midnight snacks of Jiaoqiu, you managed to finish all the assignments, and passed the class.

But somehow, the professor who ripped you to shreds suffered from severe diarrhea and had to take sick leave for a month.

All's well that ends well?

Sequel:

Good Night, Sweet Dream

[dreamsofbroflovski]

Leopold "Butters" Stotch x Reader - sweet escape

Also available on ao3!

Summary: When you and your darling boyfriend break up, Eric Cartman's inner cupid decides to make sure you two get back together... By fucking your way right out of that argument.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content (EVERYONE INVOLVED IS ABOVE THE AGE OF CONSENT), Explicit Language, Cisgender female Reader, Aphrodisiacs, Nipple Play, Nipple Orgasm, Penis In Vagina Sex, Bathroom Sex, Creampie

A/N: I've had this in my Docs for almost 2 months now, and never got to properly finish it. Then yesterday I went berserk and stayed until 4am writing and cleaning up the draft so I could have it up by today.

We have an utter drought of Butters x Reader smut in this fandom, so I hope I did our sweet guy justice.

Obligatory "English is not my first language, if anything sounds like total nonsense it probably is so please let me know" This is also my first fic after whole years without writing anything creative and my first smut work in general and IDK how to feel about it

It was your average Monday morning in Park County. People from all walks of life had frowns on their faces as they made their way to school or work, missing the protection of their warm blankets and the peacefulness of a deep sleep. In your high school, most of the students hung about in the hallways as they waited for classes to start, and the cliques standing around together provided some warmth for its members, both emotionally and physically.

At the end of one of the corridors, in one of the staircases, hung out a particular group of young men, lazing around and chatting about their weekend like everyone else. Some of them stood, leaning on the wall or the handrail, while others sat on the steps, basically creating a barricade against anyone who wanted to go up or down the stairs - not that many people tried, anyway; over the course of their high school days all the way to the current senior year, the South Park boys had kind of made that particular part of the stairs their hangout spot, and the other students really just preferred to take any necessary detours than have to deal with the certified biggest assholes in the whole school.

As they began to engage in yet another heated debate over some useless topic, almost none of them saw a certain blonde man arrive. This was not abnormal - most people were never paying attention to Butters, unless they needed him for a favor. What was abnormal, however, was the expression he carried. Butters was a normally friendly and peaceful person, always with a smile on his face even in the most inhospitable of days; to see him like he was now, walking with heavy steps like a soldier, his face down and gaze fixed on his own feet, it didn’t take much from anyone to see that he was not doing well. 

“Hey there, fellas.” He spoke in an unusually low voice, not looking up for even a second to acknowledge his peers. Almost all the other boys responded with a quiet Hey or a quick movement of the head, but he didn’t acknowledge either of those greetings, too engulfed in his own feelings.

“Oh, hey, Butters, there you are.” Cartman said, looking briefly at his direction but almost seeing past him, clearly not realizing what was amiss - Eric couldn’t care about someone else’s feelings to save his life. “Thank God you’re here, I have to talk to you about something later and it’s really important, if you didn’t show up it would’ve really fucked me over. You’re really gonna have to make up to me later for that. We’ll go over what you can do during lunch, so tell your bitch to - hey, where’s your bitch, anyway?”

“I DON’T KNOW, I DON’T CARE, AND IF ANY OF YOU DO THEN YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES!” was Butters’ immediate answer, in such a thundering angry tone that it made the whole group flinch in fear. This was the first moment he actually looked at his so-called friends that Monday, and his face was one of pure fury. “And if YOU-” he turned in his heels to face Cartman, pointing a finger at his face, “-think I’m going to be a part of whatever fucking evil deeds you have planned right now, then you better sit that fat ass of yours down, because I ain’t helping you anymore, got it?” He turned again to glare at the rest of the guys, who all had wide eyes. “Or any of you bitches either! I’m done with you jerks! DONE!”

“Dude, dude, calm down, it’s okay-” Kyle was the one to first try and appease the situation, seeing as everyone else was too afraid to make a movement. He tried to reach an arm out to Butters, but it was promptly slapped out of his reach by the latter.

“IT’S NOT FUCKING OKAY! Everyone hates you, y’all fucking hate each other, and then you sit around here and pretend to be best friends! Oh, but y’all won’t say anything because if you do y’all gon’ have to hang around with fucking Kip Drordy ‘till graduation! And I’ll tell you what else-”

He eventually became engulfed by his own rage, breathing rapidly as he looked around for anything else he could say his truth about.

“Easy there, buddy. Look, I haven’t had breakfast yet, how about you and I go pick up a snack in one of the vending machines?” Kenny tapped on Butters’ shoulder, gesturing in the direction of the canteen.

“I don’t want no goddamn snack!” Butters yelled right in Kenny’s ear, but the latter didn’t even acknowledge the rudeness, being used to worse back at his house.

“Yes, you do. Now let’s go.”

The whole staircase group watched in silence as Kenny dragged Butters far away, and then all faces turned to Cartman.

“Great job there, fatass.” Kyle snarled, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you, Kyle! What the hell did I do now?” Cartman raised his voice, pointing a finger in Kyle’s face, then signaling with his other hand towards the corridor through which Butters had just left. “He’s the one that started acting like a chick on her period! That’s got nothing to do with me!”

“You provoked him, dude! You know he’s sensitive about that shit these days!”

“Butters is always sensitive, dude! What is his problem NOW?”

The other boys looked at each other, unsure if Cartman’s behavior was legitimate. “You really don’t know what you did?” Kyle asked, almost a surprised tone in his voice, his eyebrows arched.

“No! If I’m going to be blamed for shit, at least tell me what it is!” Eric huffed, tired of the back-and-forth.

Kyle took a deep breath. “Butters and (Y/N) broke up this weekend.”

The news had Cartman legitimately shocked. “Really? Why didn’t he tell me?”

“But he did. He told all of us.” Stan picked up his phone and turned the screen towards Cartman, with the messages app open, and started scrolling up quickly with his free hand, which made it impossible for the other to be even able to read anything. “It’s all over the group chat, dude.”

“Oh, right. I didn’t read that shit, I was rushing the battle pass for the new Fortnite season.” Cartman waved his hand in dismissal and Stan put his phone back in his pocket.

“Then you can’t complain about not being informed of stuff as soon as it happens.”

“Alright, alright, my bad. But man, hope they get back together.”

Eric wasn’t really feeling bad about causing Butters to snap or worried about your romance out of care for his friend. More so, like everything else in his life, the fatass wanted you to sort your issues because that would bring him personal benefit. He needed your lover for something in the coming days, a very important plan he had been cooking, and that breakup could very well ruin it all.

When you and Butters first got together, Cartman thought this was the death of his most useful pawn, maybe he’d even have to spy on your relationship to make sure you wouldn’t be too much of an inconvenience. To his surprise, the opposite turned out to be true - the already affable young man became even more docile, if that was even possible. He was also willing to do damn near anything if it meant your happiness, so the only thing Cartman ever had to do to get his help was make up some bullshit story about how that scheme was actually going to be great for your relationship and how you’d be so glad if Butters just assisted him with this one thing (despite said thing having nothing to do with you at all, and you normally not being aware of the stuff until it happened). Since the blonde was mad at you, that meant the usual strategies wouldn’t stick.

Whatever it was that was creating this rift between you two, it had to end fast.

“But why the hell did they break up, anyway?” Eric continued, hoping to gather more information that he could use to reverse the situation.

“You’d know if you read the group chat!”, three or four of the guys answered in unison.

“Hell, I don’t read the group chat either and even I know what happened”, said Craig. He wasn’t usually one to engage in his colleagues’ dumb fighting, so, since the most aloof person on Earth had an opinion on the subject, Cartman knew he’d been missing out.

“You don’t read the group chat?!” Tweek yelped, looking at Craig with a panicked expression on his face - even more panicked than the one he had at any given time. “ACK!- You gotta read it, babe! What if one of us gets injured, dies, and you never find out because you didn’t read the group chat? What if EVERYONE dies and our last wishes are all in the group chat? UGH!”

He then seemingly got really scared of this hypothetical situation he himself created, proceeding to hyperventilate and tremble on the spot.

“I don’t read them because you do, babe. Then you tell me everything. Your texts are the only ones I ever need to read.” 

Craig patted Tweek’s hair a few times and kissed him on the forehead after speaking, which seemed to calm down the anxious male, who let out a contented sigh as his lungs seemed to finally allow him to breathe properly again. Everyone else around rolled their eyes at this, and Jimmy, out of the couple’s line of sight, stuck his tongue out and made a gesture pointing down his throat as if going to vomit.

“What do you guys do when the girls are mad at you, though?” Kyle asked, looking across the group, focusing on no one in particular - Kyle was the only one there who never managed to be in a long-term relationship (his surreal bad luck with women was extremely good content for jokes around those parts), and wouldn’t have an answer to that particular question.

“I just fuck mine ‘till she’s stupid”, Clyde answered immediately, with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Jesus, Clyde!” Tolkien gawped at the man next to him. Even if they were used to that type of vulgar speech, hearing it early in the morning on a Monday was a less than ideal setup. “Didn’t your mom teach you some manners or something?”

“As a matter of fact, no. She couldn’t.” Clyde looked sad for a moment. “But it’s real, you guys. Whenever Bebe starts bitching my ear off about some nonsense, I just take her somewhere private and give it to her good. By the time we’re done, she can’t even remember what it was she wanted, so it’s a win.”

“She probably just drops the issue because she knows you’re too stupid to hold any kind of deep conversation with”, stated Craig, earning a chuckle from most of the guys.

“Hey! It’s not like you’re any kind of master communicator either, Mr. Don’t-Read-The-Group-Chat!” Clyde retorted, hitting Craig - and Tweek, by association - right where it hurted.

By then, Cartman had tuned out the voices of all the other guys, the gears in his mind turning furiously. Clyde, however much of an idiot he could be, had unironically given him the solution to his most pressing problem. 

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

Later on, at night, the only lights on in a particular suburban street were those in the kitchen of the Cartman household.

Eric had an old cookbook open in the counter in front of him, alongside an assortment of ingredients and kitchen utensils. The food laid out seemed like your average components for making cupcakes - sugar, eggs, flour, the works -, but, hidden in the middle of it all, camouflaging itself nicely with the vanilla extract in a way that one would really need to pay attention to realize, was a bottle containing an edible aphrodisiac concentrate - the wonders of same-day delivery allowed it to be dropped off at Cartman’s doorstep right that afternoon when he bought it in the morning. 

After being done with all the other ingredients in the bowl, following the instructions in the book to a tee - Cartman could fool around with many things, but food was not one of them -, Eric grabbed the tray with the liners he had set and transferred the mixture to them. After that, he picked up that one particular bottle, turning his attention to two specific tins closest to him in the tray, lined with red cases. The bottle had instructions in the back of it - thorough information about its content, advice about the amount that was to be used and general warnings -, but the cook was having none of that, instead dumping the liquid in the two tins until he felt satisfied. In his mind, the more effect it made, the easier for him.

When that was done, he carefully put the tray into the oven and moved on to other parts of the recipe.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

The next day, Eric Cartman was on a mission. Along with the usual backpack, he carried with him to school a small box that smelled faintly of vanilla. The cupcakes had turned out really dang nice, if he could say so himself, and now it was time to pacify a certain pair of lovebirds.

After going to the usual staircase, he was surprised to find that his target, the only one of those assholes he cared to see today, was not around - but it wasn’t without reason; ever since his outburst yesterday, most of the other guys had decided to leave Butters alone with his anger until the issue was resolved, so he got warned to take his sulking elsewhere because it was bringing everyone down. As soon as he found that out, Eric turned on his heels and continued through the hallways, leaving his other colleagues very confused.

Making his way to Butters’ locker, he found the blonde male unaccompanied, mumbling some nonsense as he picked up everything he needed for the upcoming classes.

“Butters! Hey, buddy.” Cartman approached him with a smile.

“Fuck off, Eric!” Butters slammed the door to his locker, startling everyone who dared to be around him.

“Woah, calm down dude, I just wanted to give you this.” Cartman opened the box in his hands and carefully picked one of the cupcakes that had the red liner, handing it to his infuriated friend. “Might make you feel a little better.”

“Oh- huh- Really? Thanks.” Butters seemed genuinely surprised that someone, no matter who, was being nice to him. He picked up the cupcake, taking a bite out of it right away and getting some of the whipped cream on the side of his mouth. “That’s awfully nice of ya. You’re a good person, ya know, Eric. UNLIKE SOMEONE I KNOW!” He said that last part too loud, facing the corridor, as if he expected you to be around so you could hear all about how much he hated you right now. Unfortunately, you were nowhere to be found - instead, he yelled that stuff right while a group of young freshman girls happened to be passing through, laughing about something. They jumped in fear, looking at him like he was a maniac, and quickened their steps to leave as soon as possible while whispering to each other.

“Yeah, yeah, Butters, I know, I’m amazing” Eric replied, absent-mindedly, setting his sights on the end of the corridor, planning his escape route. “Look, man, I gotta go, see you in class or whatever.” Not even saying a word more than the absolutely necessary, he left Butters’ side as well, this time looking for his next objective.

Luckily, he didn’t take too long to find it as well. Right as he turned the corner, you stood next to another set of lockers, next to Red and Wendy. As they talked eagerly about something, though, you kept to your silence, also dwelling on your fight with your ex-boyfriend. You just weren’t trying to make your anger everyone else’s problem was all, but the other girls knew better than to talk about it near you or ask you questions, lest a wrong word also have you snapping.

Cartman beelined to your group, and as you all saw him coming up, the happy chatter immediately turned into silence. “Hello, ladies”, he spoke, earning a raised eyebrow from you and a questionable stare from the two other girls. “Might I interest you in some cupcakes?”

Before anyone could answer, he opened the box in his hands again, carefully picking a cupcake and handing it to every member in your trio, making sure to give you the one with the red wrap. He had made sure to bring extra cupcakes just in case anyone else in the class might see him with them or ask about it, since just giving sweet treats to you and Butters and no one else would look extremely suspicious. The red liners were to separate the laced cupcakes from the others, so he wouldn’t give them to anyone else unknowingly, and among the colorful liners in the others, no one could see you and your ex getting the same color as nothing but a funny coincidence.

As he closed the box, though, you didn’t make a single movement, still staring at him with the baked good in your hands. “No need to thank me, you know. Aren’t you going to eat it?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “You put your dick in this thing, didn’t you?” was the question that came out of your mouth. Red let out an “Ewwwww”.

“NO! Why would you think that?” He gasped, his eyes widening in surprise, like it was an absurd thing to even think about - even though it was definitely something he was capable of doing and everyone knew that. “Who do you think I am, some kind of psychopath?”

“Yes.” Your eyes went from him to the cupcake, turning it around in your hand, analyzing it for any obvious signs of tampering. “Farted on it? Put cum on the whipped cream? Is my mom dead on the filling?”

“No, no and NO! Christ, you do something once and all of a sudden it’s all people ever talk about.” He didn’t actually expect you to start asking so many questions - who questions free food? -, so he hadn’t taken the time to build up an actual excuse. “I just had too much batter and made a few extra to bring to class, can’t a guy just be nice anymore?”

 You waited a little bit more to see if he’d say anything, if he’d give away any evil plans. Unable to figure out anything, you took the leap of faith, getting the cupcake near your mouth and slowly taking a bite of it. The taste that your tongue could pick up - plain vanilla, whipped cream, a little bit of chocolate from the sprinkles on top - was good, but nothing out of the ordinary. Well, you weren’t expecting Cartman to be some kind of superb baker, and there wasn’t anything that struck you as odd, so you continued eating. Seeing this, the girls around you followed suit with eating theirs, since if you couldn’t find anything wrong with it they probably wouldn’t either.

“See? Pretty good, isn’t it? Anyway, I’m gonna go and give the rest away, bye.” He left before you could interrogate him any further.

“What a weirdo”, stated Red. Before you could dwell on the subject more, Wendy warned both of you about the time, and your trio started making your way to class.

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

For the next couple of hours, Butters felt like he was about to die.

His whole body felt hot, to the point where he was building up a slight sweat. During this time of the year and up in the mountains, this concept felt absurd, so when he asked the classmates around him to see if anyone else felt the same way, he was met with confused stares and Kenny putting the back of his hand on Butters’ forehead to check his temperature. He was warm alright, but he could tell this wasn’t a fever because this particular warmth felt more intense in the lower part of his belly, irradiating through his body.

The worst part that came with it, though, was the hard-on. It had popped up about an hour into classes, throbbing like crazy, refusing to go down and urging him to take action. He thought about asking for the hall pass to go to the bathroom and masturbate, but decided against it - because that would mean getting up in front of the whole class and standing there where everyone could see him. At this point, after so long, it all started to feel really painful, so he resorted to just curling onto himself on the chair as best as he could, waiting for the bell to ring so he could leave without drawing too much attention.

All the way across the class, you weren’t faring too well, either - just way better at hiding it. Some strands of your hair were glued to your forehead from the sweat, and you fanned yourself with an old crumbled assignment you found in the bottom of your bag. Under your table where no one could see, you pressed your thighs against each other, rubbing them together as silently as possible to create even the tiniest bit of friction to relieve yourself. As much as you did, it wasn’t nearly enough.

During this whole ordeal, you and Butters would look across the room towards each other regularly - even though you were mad at each other, you were the only person he could think about at a time like this, and vice versa. Every once in a while, your gazes would cross, both with completely panicked stares. Oh what you’d give to know what he was thinking at those times. But then, either you or him would realize the other was staring, and you’d immediately turn to the blackboard and pretend you were staring at it the whole time.

The bell ringing to announce lunchtime couldn’t have come soon enough.

“Alright class, off to lunch, we’ll-” The teacher started her usual speech to send all of you off, but before she could finish, Butters got up from his desk and bolted out of the door in extreme hurry, the speed with which he left being so intense that it knocked his whole desk back as he left and all his belongings scattered to the ground. “- Oh, I guess someone’s really into Taco Tuesday.”

As everyone got up to leave for the canteen, you thought about making a quick detour to the bathroom, maybe you could sneak in a little DJing session in one of the stalls, if you kept your quiet, just enough to get yourself through the rest of the day. Before you could make your way there, however, your girl friends made a whole group around your desk, and you had yourself cornered. If you wanted to leave anywhere, they were absolutely going to follow, so you begrudgingly walked to lunch alongside them, still trying to keep your legs as close to each other as possible. You weren’t sure if you’d even survive the rest of the day at this rate.

You hoped that lunch time and the interactions that came with it could make you distracted unlike the quiet classroom, but you were deprived of that as well. No matter how much you tried to pay attention to the conversations the girls were having around you at the table, the heat in your lower abdomen was too strong to ignore, and your thoughts always went straight back to poundtown at any given chance. More than once you had hands waved and fingers snapped near your face because someone asked you a question and you didn’t realize it. 

Also, having scanned around the room with your eyes more than a couple of times like a turret looking for a target, you couldn’t find Butters anywhere in the canteen. You wanted anything from him, even his angry looks at this point were enough to get you going - your mind got busy drawing up all those detailed scenarios where he pinned you to the table, choked you, slapped your ass, pulled your hair, all that while pounding into you violently and calling you filthy names that you never thought you’d hear from his mouth, but that made sense in your anger. 

But he wasn’t there, and you had honestly started to worry. The way he left class earlier had you wondering, who was he hanging out with that made him leave in such a hurry? Was he with some other girl? You usually trusted Butters a lot, he worshipped the ground you walked on and never gave you any reason to doubt his loyalty, but now that you had broken up, God knows what kind of shenanigans he could be up to. You certainly didn’t want to imagine the worst; not only because of the implication of betrayal on his end and the idea that he could already be loving someone else so soon, but also because it would mean he was getting a bunch of action while you couldn’t even masturbate.

“Earth to (Y/N)!” You were once again thrown out of your train of thought by Wendy Testaburger, snapping her fingers close to your ear to draw your attention once more. 

“Wait, what was it again?”, you answered, looking around with your eyes focused on the peers closest to you. All the other girls at the table were staring back, some with anger in their eyes, some with concern.

“Ugh, nevermind. I’ll text you later, since you’re too good to listen to us today.” She made a dismissing motion with her hand. “The bell’s about to ring. Let’s head back.”

As your whole group got up to leave, you looked around the considerably less crowded cafeteria one more time, hoping to catch your ex lingering around, maybe he just came late for lunch? But unfortunately, he was God knows where still. You were expecting to catch some sights of him in class again, but that was unideal - the setting there was one of silence and concentration, two things that you had no intention of keeping up with.

You didn’t have to wait until then to see him, though. As soon as your group opened the cafeteria doors, he was waiting right on the other side of it, just waiting for you to leave for the hall. Coming up from your side, he pulled on the sleeve of your blouse to draw your attention. “Canitalktoyouplease?” was the sentence that left his mouth, almost too quick and slurred for you to catch.

“Huh?”

You turned to face him and the sight was almost absurd. Butters was usually well kept, his parents weren’t going to let him get out of the house looking less than presentable, but right now he was a whole mess. His hair was all shagged up and he was panting like he had just ran a marathon. The hairs closest to his forehead were wet and some droplets of transparent liquid were around it - could be sweat, the same problem you had, or he might’ve thrown some water on his face to cool himself down (which was also a great idea). He also had his jacket tied to his waist, which was weird considering it wasn’t hot this time of the year and he had been wearing it earlier. Did he spend the whole lunch period running track?

“Can- Can I talk to you, please?” He repeated more slowly this time, gripping your arm tight and making you wince from pain. He wasn’t aware of his own strength right now. Seeing the look on your face, he quickly removed his hand from your arm, but stayed still waiting for your answer.

“She doesn’t wanna talk right now, asshole!” Before you could even say anything, Red yelled out, moving right next to you and locking her arm on yours, to show him that you weren’t alone. “And it’s almost time for class anyway. Fuck off.” 

You loved Red McArthur, you really did. That was one of your best friends right there. You didn’t regret at all having told her everything about your fight with Butters, were extremely grateful for the support she had shown you throughout, and you’d surely be glad for her intervention in any other situation. However, she was the one that should be thankful right now - thankful that the knives in the school cafeteria were dull, otherwise you’d have picked up one and stabbed her on the spot. You and your ex were still in a rift, sure, but he was the person you wanted to talk to the most right now and she was denying you that. Even if unknowingly, she was currently being the ultimate cockblocker, or pussy-blocker?

You took a deep breath, something that the other girls probably took as an attempt to dial down your anger at Butters, but that was in reality so you wouldn’t yell at your best friend in front of everyone else. “It’s alright, Red. Go on without me, we won’t take long.” You spoke as calmly as you could, waving them away with your hand and taking your arm away from hers.

As soon as you did so, Butters took you by the wrist and started to power walk in a completely different direction from everyone else, and you had a hard time matching his footsteps while trying not to bump into the groups of students everywhere. You wondered where the hell he was even taking you in such a hurry. For a while, he also seemed confused - he looked towards every door as you went, as if searching for something himself -, but then he made a decision, taking you up two sets of stairs to the third floor of the school building, where he surprised you again by pulling you inside the handicapped restroom.

Unlike the other toilets in the school, the ones reserved for handicapped people were single-user, and since there weren’t many disabled students that were willing to go all the way to the third floor to pee, this one was actually always seen to be in great condition. It was quite spacious to make it easy to maneuver wheelchairs, and also away from many of the actual occupied classrooms. Whatever it was that Butters wanted to discuss with you, he clearly didn’t want anyone else listening.

While he turned to lock the door, you took a few small steps towards the other side of the restroom, standing in the middle of it. You crossed your arms and straightened your posture, trying to look as stiff and unsympathetic as possible. Maybe it was overkill, you had agreed to be here so that already sent the message that you were at least willing to listen, but you didn’t want him to think for a second that he still had your heart on a chokehold like he did.

He took a deep breath as he turned to face you, as if trying to collect his thoughts. “Look, I know you’re mad at me and I’m mad at you and you prolly don’t wanna see me none, but I have no one else to turn to! I need your help!” He blurted out, his arms in front of him like he was ready to push you back if you were to become aggressive.

You frowned. “YOU need MY help? With what?” 

“I… I can’t say it, okay?” He was fighting with his thoughts now, knowing that he’d need to speak up, but couldn’t bring himself to. “It’s a heck of a thing and I can’t really explain it and I don’t even know if it can be explained-”

“Stop with the rambling!” You stomped your foot on the ground to alert him. “Either you tell me what this is about or I’m leaving!”

At this moment, he averted his eyes to the ground, avoiding your gaze as if that would conceal his feelings of absolute shame. His hands moved to his waist, untying his jacket and letting it fall to the floor, and the reason why he wasn’t wearing it immediately became clear - he had a noticeable tent in the front of his pants, which the sleeves of the jacket previously hung in front of, covering the view. 

As soon as you saw, it took you every little bit of restraint you had not to immediately drop to your knees, free his dick of its confinements and take it in your mouth to suck him dry. You felt your saliva building up, ready to make it as sloppy as possible too. But it would mean a complete lack of self-respect on your part to give in without at least him properly asking for it (you could faintly hear the voice of Red in your head scolding you for that), and you also needed to negotiate your own release, so you just swallowed it all back and waited as he built up the courage to continue talking.

“I tried jacking off in the stalls, watching porn on my phone, heck, even meditating to make it go away… It’s not enough. Nothing is. I NEED YOU.” He grabbed both your wrists with his hands and stared deep into your eyes as he pleaded. “I’ll do anything you want if you help me. If you never wanna see me again, I’ll leave! Forever! Just please help me! I can’t stand this anymore!”

You were far from wanting him to leave forever, not when he begged like this, looking like a hungry lost puppy. The poor man was so overwhelmed by his own arousal that he couldn’t notice the fact that you had taken a few steps towards him to close the distance between you instead of widening it. “Anything?” You murmured, to which he nodded vigorously. 

You wriggled your wrists out of his hold and took his hand in yours, guiding it towards your crotch. Your other hand quickly opened the buttons and zipper in your pants, and you pulled it down just a little, just barely halfway down your butt. The wetness between your legs had created a damp spot in your panties, and when you guided Butters’ hand to feel it, the mere brush of his hand over your extremely sensitive area was enough to make your breath hitch even through the fabric. He noticed it immediately, and you saw his eyes widen. “I believe we can help each other.”

He needed no more explanation, maybe due to fear that talking any longer would make you change your mind. So he quickly clashed his mouth onto yours, needy and desperate, wrapping both his arms around you with unusual strength - whatever it is that was driving him mad was also making him act differently than what you’re used to, but you were here for it. As you kissed him back, you felt his usually soft lips to be slightly raw - he had probably been biting them in his anxiety earlier. You didn’t have a second to dwell on it, though, because his tongue swiftly started to brush over yours, an invitation for a dance that you gladly accepted.

Still completely glued to your mouth, Butters started to take small steps, which made you walk backwards, all the way to the other side of the restroom. As your back touched the wall, you felt one of the horizontal metal grab rails under you. You shifted so more of your ass was on top of it, not completely seated (the bar was too narrow for it), but just giving you the extra support in case you needed it. The current position had you firm on your right foot, while the other hovered slightly above ground. Your legs being more open also allowed for Butters to get even closer with his hips, his erection so close to your pussy, separated only by the clothes you both wore.

In one swift motion, Butters hiked up both your blouse and your bra, not even caring about the back clasps, taking everything off and exposing your breasts to the slightly cold air of the restroom as well as to his hungry gaze. The latter wasn’t true for much long, though - he closed his eyes and dove immediately with his mouth to your left nipple, sucking on it and flicking the hardened bud with the tip of his tongue, while his right hand took care of the other breast, massaging it softly. Your nipples were already sensitive by nature, but right now they felt connected to all other nerves in your body, and the stimulation had you whimpering in pleasure.

Your lover started to alternate between one breast and the other with his mouth, giving both the same amount of love and attention - wherever his mouth wasn’t, one of his hands was sure to be, kneading the soft flesh and flicking your peaks slightly. The other hand would then be running around your chest, arms and belly, feeling your soft skin and making up for lost time. 

On your end, one of your hands grabbed hard on the metal rail below you, even if that wouldn’t do you much to make you stable. The other ran through Butters’ hair, caressing it - a type of caring behavior that almost felt out of place considering the borderline sinful thoughts you had all day and the situation you found yourself in right now, but that was doing wonders for him, since it made him even more eager to keep loving on your tits.

You could also feel his hips rutting towards plain air near you, as he tried to satiate his throbbing dick even a little bit. Not wanting to deny him any part of this experience when he was treating you so right, you moved one of your legs closer to him, putting your knee between his legs and allowing him to grind on your thigh. He took the offer immediately and responded by growling against your breast and sending some more shivers through your body with the vibrations.

The new stimulus had Butters going wild. He was getting more feral with his treatment of your body - taking your nipples between his fingers, tugging at them and twisting slightly. He started to graze your bud with his teeth, which soon turned into full-on love bites all across your nipples and breasts, the red patches not looking so jarring now that your whole skin was so flushed, but they’d certainly be a nice keepsake later.

When you started to feel that familiar tension in your muscles, the pleasure in your nipples spreading like a flame under your skin, it came as a surprise. You hadn’t ever climaxed from just him working your nipples before - hell, was that even possible? -, and it had sneaked up on you, first feeling like if lightning was gentle, an electric tingle all over your body that sparked like fireworks. Then there was no denying the well-known wave of pleasure that hit you like a tsunami, crashing your whole world around you and making your knees buckle. 

Sensing your loss of balance in front of him, Butters quickly let go of your breasts and wrapped his arms around your waist. You wouldn’t have fallen either way, catching yourself in the metal bar behind you with a firm grip, but the consideration was appreciated. As he looked at you with a worried expression and breathing through his mouth anxiously, you felt the walls of your pussy spasming again and more slick dripping in your panties. 

“You okay?” His eyes ran through your body, looking for anything that might be wrong, and coming up short. You were absolutely perfect as always.

“More than.” You purred with a smile, giving him a brief kiss. When your mouths parted ways, he tilted his head closer to yours ever so slightly, almost as if chasing your lips with his. Savoring his yearning, you pucker up your lips and make a kissing sound, before tugging at his shirt. “You’re gonna kill me like this though. Just let me feel you already.”

It was his time to smile. “Okay, honey”, he hummed, fixing his posture - and you closed your eyes happily, not having noted how much you missed him calling you pet names until now. He locked mouths with you again and his hands drifted down between you two, pulling further down the hem of your jeans and tracing your slit through the soaked panties, earning from you a sharp moan.

His mouth left yours so he could focus on ridding you of the rest of your outfit, and you held down on the grab rail with your other hand as he lifted your legs – first one, then the other so you could keep stability - to remove your shoes, pants and undergarments completely. You would’ve helped him to make the job quicker, but he seemed to be enjoying the ride now that he had you back in his embrace. Once he had fully taken everything off, he planted a quick kiss on the inside of your lifted thigh, making you shudder.

Slowly and carefully letting go of your leg, Butters took another look at your full body as you stood there naked for him. He wanted to kiss every inch of you, show you as much of his love as possible, but there was also this overpowering lust. Not wanting to spend another second more not touching you, he made quick work of his own pants and boxers while you grabbed onto his shirt and pulled it over his head, throwing it somewhere and allowing his bare chest to touch yours. You were both drenched in sweat at this point, and your naked bodies basically glued together like that, but in the haze none of that mattered.

Butters lifted your left leg up again and held your thigh firmly against his hip with his right arm, while his other hand stroked his shaft slowly as he moved to position it against your entrance. You felt your cunt clench tight as the head of his cock breached your folds, and you were sure he could feel it too, as his breath hitched and his eyes fluttered when you tried to look at them. “Need me that bad, huh?”, he murmured, giving you a kiss on the cheek. “I need you too, honey. Can’t be without you no more.”

With that, he thrusted into you in one swift motion - your surreal wetness making it easy for him to bottom out several inches deep inside of you, the familiar sting you felt as he stretched you being eased by how aroused you already were. The both of you moaned almost in unison at this very welcomed sensation, and in a moment of pseudo-clarity you remembered that you couldn’t be loud like this, a realization that did not seem to grace Butters as he started to push out and back into you with more fully open-mouthed moans. You quickly put one of your hands in the back of his head and push it towards the crook of your neck, where he starts to place quick but strong suckles and bites, not caring for - actually downright wanting - the marks they’d leave.

“Shh, honey” You whispered with the softest of voices, not wanting him to get discouraged, but still needing to give him a reminder. “Can’t get loud in here or they’ll catch us. Just do this for me, okay?” 

It was hard for you to heed your own warning, though - with each quick and hard slam of his hips, plus his assault on your neck, you wanted nothing more than to have him hear just how good he was doing. You settle for biting your own lip and keeping your moans in your mouth, which to him seemed to sound even hotter - as he sped up the pace of his thrusts with newfound energy, getting high on the sound of your muffled whimpers and the wet sound of his dick plunging inside your weeping cunt.

The force with which his hips struck your body had you sliding up and down against the wall, your tits bouncing with the movement. His hot breath on your neck made the fine hairs on your whole body stand up, and your back arched, which made him hit that sweet spot inside of you even more perfectly now. Needing to be closer, closer, you let your hands go from the grab rails where they had settled before and wrap your arms around Butters’ neck, relying on him like your last connection to the Earth now. You were glad he had enough strength to hold you with just the lower half of your body pinned to the cold bathroom tiles while still jackhammering into you.

As Butters raised his head from your neck to take a brief look at you through his half-lidded eyes, he used a lot of self-restraint to not cum on the spot. You were a whole mess: disheveled hair, face moist with sweat, a soft reddish tint spread through your whole body, but more prominent on your cheeks, nose, and breasts. You weren’t staring back at him, eyes tight shut as the feeling of his cock inside of you distracted you from using any of your other senses. He wanted to kiss your rosy puffy lips again, but wouldn’t risk disturbing the pretty noises that came out of your throat as you tried so hard to not let out the loud moans you wanted to. “Yeah, that’s it, baby... You’re so… good to me...” He laid his head back on the crook of your neck, but didn’t go back to biting - instead, he inhaled deeply, taking all of your scent in, your faint perfume that he loved mixed with your sweat and… a hint of vanilla? “Lemme make you… feel even better…” 

His last sentence slurred into nonsense, but in the blur you barely registered it. You also didn’t even notice how he sneaked his left hand between your bodies, coating his thumb with the splattered juices around your cunt before moving it up and rubbing quick circles in your clit, increasing your pleasure in an almost overwhelming way. You felt a sharp sting in your lip and a metallic taste - in your efforts to not make any noise, you had bitten your lip so hard it broke skin. The pain, however, was quickly overshadowed by Butters’ ministrations, and you slapped one of your hands over your mouth to silence yourself, leaning with your back against the wall again.

It wasn’t like any past fuck you ever had. Everything was heightened; You heard every slap of his skin against yours and all the little sharp breaths both of you took as you tried to avoid being too loud in your pleasure, you could feel every single vein in his cock squeezing through your tight walls, and you saw whole galaxies even through your closed eyes. 

As that coil inside of your belly was getting tighter and tighter, so were your walls against Butters’ cock - and you knew that had to be catching up to him, as he started to lose the pace on his thrusts, and the muscle in his arms and legs seemed to become even more tense. “‘m- I- can’t hold much longer like this, sweets!” It seemed almost impossible for him to get the words out, having to say them through quick breaths as he got close to his release himself. “You’re just… too good…”

Then there was no warning as he let out a loud growl and his hips hit your body with one final deep slam, and you felt his dick pulsating as he filled the deepest part of you with his hot seed. The thumb in his left hand, however, still flicked your clit viciously, and so it didn’t take much longer for you to come undone, your cunt gripping his throbbing dick as the pleasure washed over your body for a second time.

As both of you dissolved into each other’s bodies, you found it in yourself to take his face in your shaky hands and press his lips to yours once more. Unlike your previous kisses of today, though, this moment was much more kind and full of tenderness, feeling exactly like the ones you shared throughout your relationship with him. You both felt loved and cared for, and while that rough fuck session took care of the needs of your physical bodies, the kiss took care of your souls.

You only dared part your mouths this time when it became necessary to breathe, and both of you sported soft smiles after you did, tired, but happy. You started using one of your hands to brush back through your fingers the multiple small strands of hair glued to his forehead, while the other caressed his cheek. He leaned into your touch, resting his hands on your waist. His dick was softening, but he didn’t feel keen on pulling out just yet, relishing the closeness of your bodies like this.

“I love you, Leo.” You finally broke the ice after a couple of minutes like this, giving him a peck on the forehead, to draw his attention back to Earth.

“Geez, by now I sure hope so!” You couldn’t help but giggle at his ever present sincerity. “I love you too, (Y/N).”

As you smiled and took note of your actual environment for the first time in a while, an idea came to mind. “Wanna get away from here?” You already knew what his answer would be to this offer, but you wanted to make your intentions clear nonetheless. “We can find someplace else where we can make some real noise.”

༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚𓆩♡𓆪༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚༝༚

You and Butters didn’t come back for the rest of classes, and nobody in school had an answer to where you were, either. All texts sent to you or him went unanswered for that day, and your friends had no idea what happened.

What they could certainly say they saw, though, was the pair of you arriving at school together the next morning with a pep in both your steps, chatting away and smiling as you held hands. Everyone was left speechless, and some even questioned if the last few days had even been real. 

The only person who didn’t seem confused was Eric Cartman, his nonchalant behavior earning him plenty of questioning from the other dudes the following days, but he refused to admit to anything. And why would he, anyway? You and his friend were back together, happy as could be, the sun was up in the sky, everything was right. And, if it ever stopped being that way, he had a certain tiny bottle in the back of his wardrobe to sort things out again.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[heavenlytouches]

pls doctor Cullen x female reader. make it like, she came to doc and she was afraid of doctors so he comforts her. I have such daddy issues with that man. also love your work

Hello dear! Thank you so much for a request and sweet words! And of course, Doctor Cullen is something else. I love that man. Let's dive in- El <3

Dr. Carlisle Cullen- beneath the fog

•.⋆｡✮⋆⟡

FEM reader

<3 (SFW)

TW-none

Gentle doc ;)

Reader has Iatrophobia (fear of doctors)

Carlisle Cullen

The rain drizzled softly over Forks, each droplet dancing down from the gray sky, blurring the edges of the world. The fog hung low, wrapping the town in a shroud of mystery and tranquility. You hated mornings like this.

Then happened your big fall—an embarrassing tumble on the icy sidewalk just outside Forks High, leaving you in an ambulance, heart racing with more than just the fear of injury. You had always been terrified of doctors, their sterile instruments and white coats invoking a sense of dread that was hard to shake.

As you were wheeled into the small, dimly lit examination room, the smell of antiseptic filled the air, sending shivers down your spine.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of today's accident, the embarrassment of slipping in front of classmates, and the impending dread of a doctor’s visit.

But when the door opened, the atmosphere shifted. Carlisle Cullen entered, a vision of calm amidst the chaos of your thoughts.

His golden hair framed a face that seemed sculpted by the gods—a mix of gentleness and strength radiating from him. His smile was warm, a stark contrast to the chill of the clinic. You had seen him around Forks, although you had never spoken to him.

“Good morning.”

He said, his voice smooth like honey.

“I’m Dr. Cullen. How are you feeling? They said it was a pretty nasty fall.”

You glanced up, catching those beautiful eyes—amber and sparkling with kindness. You could feel the anxious flutter in your stomach, the same kind you felt whenever you saw someone particularly interesting.

“I… um, I’m okay, I think.”

You stammered, your voice barely reaching above a whisper.

He managed to make the medical environment feel a little less fearsome.

“You’re safe here. Let’s take a look at what happened, shall we?”

His demeanor was calm and relaxed, occupying the space with an aura of tranquility.

You took a deep breath and nodded, attempting to push your fears aside as he gestured for you to lie back on the examination table.

He moved closer, his presence both comforting and daunting, and you instinctively wanted to inch away. But he didn’t crowd you; instead, he patiently waited, letting you adjust to his nearness.

“How did you fall?”

He asked, gently inspecting your elbow, where the bruise was beginning to blossom in shades of purple and blue. His fingers were deft and careful, brushing against your skin with a tenderness that momentarily distracted you from your anxiety.

“I was just… distracted. I didn’t see the ice-”

You mumbled, then added, more hesitantly-

“I’m not very good with ice… or doctors, for that matter.”

He looked up from his examination, curiosity dancing in his eyes.

“What about doctors makes you uneasy?”

You couldn’t decide whether to be honest or to deflect. But there was something in the depths of his gaze that urged you to be open.

“I guess… I’ve just had a few bad experiences. It’s a bit frightening, you know? The needles, the equipment…”

Carlisle nodded, his expression softening further.

“I understand completely. It’s perfectly normal to feel this way. Many people do. But I promise, I only want to help you.”

His confidence was infectious. You found your breath coming easier, the tension in your shoulders loosening ever so slightly.

“Thank you..”

You whispered, feeling warmth bloom in your chest at the way he treated you—not just as a patient, but as a person.

He spent the next few minutes talking softly, weaving stories of how he got into medicine, his compassion for those in need pulling you into his world. You felt your heart flutter as you realized that behind the caring doctor was a man who struggled with his own burdens yet chose a path of gentleness.

“Okay...”

He said after a while, stepping back and examining your elbow one last time.

“It looks like a bruise, but I want to do a quick check to make sure you’re okay overall. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

With that simple statement, you felt lighter. Watching him work with a grace that was mesmerizing, you realized your fear was slowly being replaced by admiration. Carlisle was everything you wanted in a protector—a gentle spirit with an unshakeable strength.

“Thank you for being so kind.”

You said, an earnestness in your voice that surprised you.

“It really helps.”

His smile widened, genuine and radiant, and your heart soared.

“Anytime. You’re stronger than you think, you know. Just take it one step at a time.”

As he finished his examination, you left the clinic not only with a better sprain but with a fluttering heart that dared to hope.

There was something about him—the way he listened and understood—that made you want to see him again. It was as if, in the midst of a foggy Forks morning, he had cleared away the clouds of your fear, revealing a light you hadn’t known you desperately needed.

Maybe, just maybe, you could face the world beyond the fog if it meant you could have another moment with Dr. Cullen.

Like I said, I loooove Carlisle so much! Also, I hope y'all liked this drabble ^^

Don’t forget, requests are always open and I can write for any character you’d like!

I love you guys so much <33

El <3

(all images were made by: El via canva & paint)

[sxgarworld]

Painter’s Hand

Order Contains: In which Choso Kamo is one of your peers in your college art course. He comes over to study you painting, but it seems his infatuated with more than just your technique.

With a side of: Biting, whimpering, soft!dom needy Choso bc im a slut for whimpering men

Calorie Count: 1.8k words

As you were packing up your supplies, and taking your dried canvas and placing it in its separate bag, you hear thick soles of someone’s shoes walk up behind you. You turn, a little shocked, to see one of your classmates standing there eagerly.

It was your classmate, Choso. You knew him because during critique, he had nothing bad to say about your art. He didn’t say much though, he always looked tired and in his own world. It didn’t help that he always had big, clunky headphones on.

“Choso! Can I help you with something?” you said, scolding yourself silently for sounding so formal. You realized you were nervous, why did he make you nervous?

“Y/N, this might be a weird question but,” he paused, fiddling with his hair that was pulled into a ponytail, “I was wondering if, you know, one day you’d let me see you paint? Just us two? I love your art and I’d love to see your technique,” he asks. His compliments made you go red. Ever since you could remember, you could never take a compliment like a normal person. Quickly, you got giddy and smiled at him.

“Of course! Here, give me your phone number and I’ll text you my dorm number and when I’m free,” you smile, taking out your phone and allowing him to put in his contact. He gently takes the phone, and you can’t help but notice how his slender, long fingers are slightly spotted with blue and white paints. He hands your phone back to you.

“Well, I’ve got another class across campus in thirty minutes. But I’ll see you later?” He asks, hopeful. You nod. He walks out with his painting (which still looked wet) and his bag. His Doc Martens clunk against the ground as he leaves.

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It’s around 8pm, you’re sitting in your dorm room, swiping through textbook pages, careful to not get a paper-cut. You texted Choso a while back, and he said he was coming, but never specified when. After a while you got distracted, forgetting about having a guest, until you heard a knock at your door.

It made you drop your highlighter in shock. You quickly got up to look in the mirror to make sure you looked presentable. No crumbs on your shirt or clumpy mascara. After checking, you went to go see who was at the door. Staring through your peephole, you saw Choso, this time with his hair tied up into two buns on the sides of his head. How cute!

“Chosoooo,” you smiled, opening the door, “come in! I was about to finish that painting from class today.” He nodded, eyes taking in your dorm. You were artsy, and your dorm reflected that strongly. The interior design was so fun to look at.

“Did you decorate yourself?” he asked, running a hand along a velvet blanket thrown neatly on your couch. It was so soft, everything inside the dorm felt so comfortable. Like a home more than just a dorm.

“Oh! Yeah I did, took a little inspiration from people online, though.” You saw as he walked around, like he was lost in admiration. His normally tired eyes were still tired, but less dead. Like a fish!

“It’s beautiful,” he admired, looking directly at you. Again, your face went red from the praise. It was his voice, too, so deep and raspy, throwing around compliments like this. You couldn’t help but react this way.

“Thank you! Do you wanna.. um, come see me paint now? Or like we could do anything to be honest, I don’t mind,” you stammered. Of course he didn’t want to do anything else, why would he? He just came to see you paint, because he liked your technique.

“Oh painting, yeah we could. I’d love to see you in action,” he said, starting to get close to you. An electric shock was sent down your spine. His words were almost hypnotic. You made your way into your bedroom, pulling out your canvas and placing it on your easel, your pallet already full of paint from earlier. It was a little dried out, but it didn’t matter. It was good enough.

You dipped your brush in the red, and lightly swiped it across your canvas. For you, you watered down your paints a bit. It took away the vibrance but it added a very soft, subtle look. The way you blending was a bit odd too, blending with a brush then a bit more with your fingers.

As you painted, you could feel Choso’s breath down your neck. He was standing right behind you, so close. His hands rested on your easel, meaning you were trapped between him and the easel. It almost made you shake a little bit, which he thought was just another part of your technique.

“You’re real good at this, yknow?” he whispered, his words hitting your ear breathily. It made your entire body heat up. His deep voice right into your ear, praising you as you worked. It made you melt against him, back pressed to his chest.

“Don’t shake too much, sugar, I’d hate it if you ruined this pretty painting,” he said, grabbing your shaking hand as you dipped your brush back into your paint. What’d he just call you? Sugar? It was difficult to keep your composure now, with him sweet talking you.

“I’m not gonna ruin it,” you said quietly, almost to yourself. He let out a soft chuckle, his hands now resting on your waist. God you hoped he couldn’t feel how hot and nervous you were. You were glad he definitely couldn’t feel how wet you were.

“I bet you won’t sweetheart,” he said, taking his hand and grabbing your jaw. He softly forced you to look up at him. “You’re just so good at this, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t hold yourself together, it was starting to be too much. Did he come here to watch you work, or did he have ulterior motives? You could tell, his dead eyes were almost cloudy as he looked at you. Clouded with what? Lust? He didn’t break eye contact with you.

You turned, so your chest was facing his chest, and you grabbed the collar of his shirt. For a second you hesitated, wondering if you should question him or not. But something inside of you pressed yourself against him, pulling him closer and softly pressing your lips against his.

“God, I’ve wanted you for months. You’re so reserved, I needed a good reason to finally see you, to have you like this.” His eyes glossed over you, your hot body and your red face. He kissed you again, this time on your neck. You gripped onto his t-shirt, a bit rougher than you expected. He kept planting kisses on your neck and your collar bone, making you shake.

“Please, Choso,” you whined. He didn’t even need to ask you what you wanted. He lifted you up, his arms were so strong, and tossed you onto your bed. He pressed you down into the mattress, crawling on top of you and kissing you more.

“Please what baby?” he teased, knowing exactly what you wanted. You looked at him with pleading eyes as he kissed you over and over again, the kisses starting to become sloppier and wetter. He didn’t even bother to let you finish begging, he couldn’t help himself around you. Slowly he slipped off your jeans, and with it, your panties. For a minute he just sat and kissed you, letting you grind against his strong thighs.

But it was too much for him, he couldn’t just sit and tease you like this for long. He whined, tugging at shirt.

“Nu uh, that’s not fair,” you frowned “All your clothes are still on.” He looked at you with wide eyes, then taking all of his clothes off, kicking his pants off the side of your bed. You couldn’t help but look at him. Underneath his baggy clothes, you thought he’d be skinny and scrawny. He was… glorious. His body was chiseled and defined, which was odd for a fine arts major. You immediately sat on his lap, pulling off your shirt and bra.

He bit at your neck, sucking and leaving the tiniest purple marks up and down the side. He bit down a bit harder than before, leaving a full red circle with indents for each of his teeth in your neck. The sudden pain made you whimper, your nails digging into his back.

“Please, let me—“ he couldn’t even finish his sentence, he was too hot and bothered. His cock pressed against your folds, his angry pink tip leaking precum all over his own thighs. “I need it, I need you s’bad.”

You let out a soft laugh, nodding your head. He took that as a resounding yes. He couldn’t help but push his tip into you, no teasing from his fingers to loosen you up. He let out the most gutural, pathetic moan you’ve ever heard. As he thrust in sloppily, he let out whines and whimpers, as if it were too much for him to handle.

“It- agh-! You’re so tight, baby,” he whimpered, burying his head into the crook of your neck. He suddenly grabbed your hips, forcing you to bounce up and down on his cock. You slammed yourself down on it, feeling his tip brush against the entrance to your womb. The feeling made you throw your head back and moan. He let out more pathetic sounds of struggle and pleasure. You could feel him wetting your neck up with… tears?

“It’s too fuckin’ good!” he cried out, fucking you hard. Suddenly he threw you back onto the bed, your head hitting your pillow. He pinned your hands to the headboard. His eyebrows furrowed as he plowed into you desperately, his pace speeding up.

“Choso- haah—“ you panted out, tongue barely escaping your mouth, as his pace suddenly became sloppy. He gripped your hips tighter, pressing bruises into your skin.

“Fuck I’m gonna— I’m— I’m gonna cum!” he said, barely even finishing his sentence before you felt his seed splattering inside your walls, your own juices coating his dick as you finished. He spasmed, leaning his head into the crook of your neck as he let a few last spurts shoot out of his cock. “So- so good baby. You feel so good.” He whimpered out, gulping as he did.

You ran a hand through his hair, almost pulling out another whine from him at the affection caress.

“You’re so pretty baby, such a pretty girl,” he whispered, his hands loosening its grip on your hips, and instead letting his arms wrap around you softly. “Such a pretty girl, yeah? You’re beautiful,” he muttered, kissing along your forehead.

My pretty girl.

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likes and reblogs are appreciated! <3 Please dont repost

[ilexdiapason]

(part one here) (part three here)

(CW: character experiences a severe derealization episode)

“D’you want me to order pizza?” Oli asks, somewhat redundantly, because Martyn is twenty-two (according to the police report) and a gamer, of course he’s not gonna turn down free pizza.

“Oh, god, yeah,” says Martyn. And, a second later - “Please.”

He fires up the Domino’s website obediently, pulls up the deals and picks one that’ll leave him some leftovers for when Martyn’s long gone tomorrow. Meateor for himself, as usual, and then he spins the laptop round on his knees to present Martyn with the options. “What are you having?”

Martyn stares at the screen, unblinking, for a few too many seconds.

“... Something wrong?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah, no, just. Um. Been a while.”

“D’you just want a margherita, then? Keep it easy?”

“No, I don’t - I was -” he grimaces, shakes his head roughly, and thumbs at the fabric of his shirt where the tea stain sits “- trying to remember what I liked.”

“Vegetarian?”

“No,” Martyn responds immediately.

“Olives? Mushrooms?”

“I’m not picky -”

“Pineapple on pizza?”

Martyn snorts. “Okay, yeah, I don’t much like pineapple on anything, I’ll give you that.”

“But as a concept.”

“No problem with it.”

“Then, Marty, my friend, you’ve lost the plot.”

He sits another moment, deliberating. Then - “Sweetcorn.”

“Yeah?”

“I like sweetcorn on pizza.”

“Alright,” says Oli, and spins the laptop round again to check the options. “Vegi Supreme or Chicken Feast?”

“I’ll take the chicken,” Martyn says, resolute.

Oli sends the order through, with potato wedges on the side, because it’s his money and he’s gonna pick the extra items for the deal. Then, once the little order tracker with the fake AI has popped up and started telling him stupid jokes to amuse him for the next 25 minutes or so, he turns back to look at Martyn. “Can I ask something?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Ask what?”

“And you don’t need to tell me if it’s, like, personal or whatever, just… what were you eating? If you haven’t seen pizza in however long?”

Martyn makes a face. “Whatever, honestly. It wasn’t a big worry for me - I mean, not like I could - yeah, it was just whatever. Not dead yet, so I’m clearly not malnourished.”

Oli cocks his head. “Whatever like whatever you were given, or whatever like you were scavenging?”

“Like - uh - like - I mean, I wouldn’t say scavenging, that’s - like whatever I could find? I know I’m not explaining this very clearly, it’s -”

“No, no, I said you didn’t need to tell me! Don’t have to say anything you don’t want to.” (It’s not like Oli doesn’t want to know, but he doesn’t need to know if it’s going to make Martyn uncomfortable to explain it.)

“Anyway. It wasn’t bad, it was just… y’know how Covid makes it so you can’t taste anything? Little bit like that.”

“Original Covid did. I don’t know about all the new variants.”

“Ah, yeah, heard about those! Did they ever run out of Greek letters?”

“Don’t think so, thank goodness.”

“Yeah,” Martyn nods.

Beside Oli, the little Domino’s robot lets him know that their pizzas are now going in the oven.

It feels odd, to be sitting here on the sofa, taking an extended lunch break with somebody who he’s only known from Minecraft servers and scratchy in-game prox chat. It feels odd to know that he’s doing hospitality for a man six or seven years younger than him, a friend who’s never answered out-of-character about himself before today. It feels odd to know that he’s actually looking at the real Martyn - not some rat, not some pirate, just… some guy.

Oli swallows and steels himself for what he’s about to say. “Erm - again. Don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But… besides this whole Doc thing, what was your life like? Your normal life?”

Martyn’s expression flips into something unreadable for a second, then mellows again into neutrality. “Yeah, uh - nothing special, really. Born and raised in Nottingham, did alright at school, got the grades for uni but I ended up deferring. I was trying to get a job in my gap year but I didn’t really wanna end up behind the counter at GAME or McDonald’s or anything, and nowhere else ever got back to my applications, so… spent a lot of time at home, playing video games. No girlfriend, no mates who really stuck after college; not much worth writing home about. I wasn’t much of anything, really, not then.”

Oli is, he decides, going to ignore the implications of that comment. “Family?”

“Mum, dad, sister who’s been moved out for a few years. Dog. Oh, I hope he’s still alive, that’d suck if I never see my dog again.”

“Fingers crossed,” says Oli.

“What about you? What’s the home life of OrionSound like, when he’s not at the computer?”

“Oh, Marty, my entire life is at the computer,” he quips. “I work in software development. I actually did my degree in psychology, but you’d be surprised, there’s not a lot of room in the market unless you’ve done a load of other certifications as well. I guess I could have got a therapy licence, but as it turned out, I’d spent enough time in first year making terrible visual novels that by the time I got into the workforce I technically knew how to code. AI snapping at our heels now, of course, but it’s probably gonna eat itself by Christmas, so I’m not too worried about that.”

“I dunno,” says Martyn, “I’ve seen some pretty advanced AI.”

“So, yeah. I spent a few years freelancing, contracting for one place or another - I’m quick, which people seem to like, although that’s mostly so I can get back to gaming as soon as possible. And then… like two and a bit years ago? Yeah, would’ve been two years this past July… then I got a really nice position at CHESTCorp, it’s mostly remote work, I drive down to London every few months so they can “review my performance in a controlled environment”, whatever that means, and they pay well enough that I can afford this place on my own, which is -”

Oli stops talking when he notices Martyn’s face has gone white as a sheet.

“What’s wrong?”

“I knew it,” Martyn murmurs.

“What?”

“I knew it,” he says again, stronger, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, I knew you - I thought - he told me this would happen, I’ve seen it happen, I should’ve just learned from my mistakes the fucking first time, but clearly I’m stupid.”

“Marty, what are you -”

“Didn’t wanna believe this shit could follow me out here, but evidently it - oh. Oh, no, no, you fucking - it’s not over, is it? I’m still - that’s why nobody picked up the phone, it wasn’t real, you couldn’t synthesise my mother’s voice, I’d know! You’re CHEST, of course you’re CHEST, the one person I thought - I mean, I hoped - you’re fucking cruel, is what this is, it’s cruel, and you’re not fooling me twice. Don’t know how you got the food this realistic, but -”

“Martyn,” Oli tries to interrupt, “are you okay?”

“Shut the fuck up,” Martyn says through gritted teeth. “You’ve given the game away now, CHEST agent. Should’ve known it wasn’t real. Should’ve known I couldn’t get out that easy. Or you caught up before I got out, one of you fuckers, planted something, or - I don’t know, made me think I was finally out of this stupid place. Made me think it was fine so I’d start giving up secrets. Well, you’re not getting another word out of me, you fucking idiot. Some interrogation room you’ve got here, huh? This your best simulation? Get a better model for your TV, I’ll tell you that for free, the reflection’s too smooth.”

Well. Er. “Martyn,” he tries again, “I think you might be having a flashback?”

“Nothing back about it, you bastard. Giving me false hope like that. Thank god I don’t actually know Doc’s name, or you’d have been able to track him too, wouldn’t you? Fuck you. Don’t ever bring my family into this again, any of you.”

“Okay,” Oli says slowly, rifling through his psychology knowledge for grounding techniques, “you think this isn’t real, right now?”

“I know it isn’t real,” Martyn spits, “and it’s getting worse the more I’m poking at it. See, look -” he stomps a foot at the floor “- you’re losing resolution trying to keep it running.”

The carpet, which has not changed and is certainly not lower resolution than it was when they got here, endures being scuffed at. Oli doesn’t want to actually lay a hand on Martyn right now, though; he’s got a bad feeling that’ll end in something much worse than being kicked. Instead he dips into the kitchen across the room, pops an ice cube out of the tray faster than he’s ever needed to, and brings it back over to the sofa. “Here,” he says, chucking it at Martyn’s lap, “that real enough for you?”

Martyn catches the projectile reflexively. He stills, silent, both hands cupped around the ice cube, staying in the air.

Then, gradually, his eyes unfocused… his arms lower.

He opens them and stares down at the piece of ice in his palm, and, slowly and almost imperceptibly, begins to rock forward.

The Domino’s tracker chimes again. Their food has finished cooking, and it’s being delivered by Amal. Oli almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Whatever Martyn’s running from, it must go a lot deeper than he thought.

(part five here)

[silent-raven13]

Jealous Miles

Miles isn't the jealous type, or so he thought. His jealousy is mostly hidden with his awkward questions, or shy attitude. Normally he tries to bring up certain things casually which always sounds odd or just plain awkward. Somehow his jealousy isn't as extreme as his boyfriend's. No, Miles is always trying to be reasonable, calm and collective. He's not like his mom who ask many questions and starts investigating... tho his distant family members did say he's a lot like her. He never knew why.

Until today...

Gwen jumps happily: Isn't this great! We're going to see Hobie's concert.

Pav shimmies: Right! I am so hype!

Miles wearing his boyfriend's band shirt with tight skinny jeans and doc martin shoes: Ye-yeah! Do you see him? I can't find him anywhere. -he looks through the busy crowd wondering where his boyfriend is at-

Peter appears in the crowd with Mayday wearing black eyeliner and a black shirt. Mayday having on silly black and white makeup on to look like a skull: Hey guys! Sorry I'm late! Had to steal a shirt... you know to be punk? Ha!

Gwen looks at Mayday: You brought Mayday with you? Peter, she's a baby!

Mayday made a scowl look: BLAH!

Peter: Don't worry we practice! See. Blah! -they did the same expression-

One random guy in his punk outfit saw the two: That's what I'm talking about! BLAH! -he throws a sign of horns with his right hand- fuck society, man and lil one!

Mayday mimics the sign: hehe!

Peter: See! We fit in just fine! -he saw Miles looking over the crowd- What's up with him?

Pav: He's looking for his bf!

Peter: Ah, he's probably in the backstage with those groupies -casually saying-

Miles' eyes widen: Groupies!

Gwen: You know, bandmates always got a few sneaky links or sides. Sometimes fangirls wanting to sleep with their favorite band. -She saw Miles staring at her almost in shock- Not that Hobie will ever do that! You know he's faithful to you!

Pav: Yeah, you two are in a serious relationship!

Miles: We never said that! We just started to date and casually call each other boyfriend. -Something in him began bubbling, like a wave of anger and need-

Gwen: Ohh... Well, Hobie would never do that! You two are-

Some girls came walking pass them with their boobs out having pasties and there was black markers written names on it. One of them being Hobie's name. Peter quickly cover Mayday, who removes his hand to see: Boobies!

Peter: Hey, don't tell your mom! -he tries not to look at the women-

Gwen made a grimacing expression: Um... he's a star so he-

Another girl came by talking to her other friend: I can't believe your ex let you touch his hair! -they saw the blond girl with Hobie's name tattoo on her lower back.-

The other girl giggles: I know! He's so cute. I should've kissed him!

Pav: Ex! See, they are not together! -He frowns seeing a dark look on Miles' face. Something they never saw-

Another guy came almost similar to Miles' height holding Hobie's vest with his guy friend: Hahaha, Hobie is a fucking arse, isn't he?

The guy puts on Hobie's vest: Hahaha, well I got his jacket now!

Peter: Man, it's not looking too good for Hobie, huh Miles? Miles? -they saw him walking to the direction those groups came from-

Mayday: Ah shit!

Peter gasps: Mayday where did you learn that?

Gwen: Come on, let's go before something bad happens!

Pav: Awe, man. I fixed my hair today. Now we gotta tussle?

Miles slid his way through the crowd, at the end he saw a group of people surrounding bands that were about to play for tonight. One of them was Hobie's band. The young Spiderman looks at a crowd of women touching Hobie's arms, hair and face which tick him off. Jealousy bubbling into his stomach that left a nasty taste in his mouth.

Hobie standing trying to endure the fans: Okay. okay, stop touching my hair! I told you many times. -he scowls-

One of the fangirls lift her tank top shirt up to reveal her breasts: Hobie! Hobie, how about an autograph, please? -she cutely pouts-

Hobie sighs: Fine, whatever. Just don't touch my hair. -he only do this to seem like a badass, he didn't see nothing bad of it. He took a marker to write his name on the woman's chest- There! Now -his eyes glances over spotting his boyfriend. All his annoyance washes away and a big smile placed on his face- SUNFLOWER!

Miles merely standing there just witnessing his boyfriend writing his name on a fangirl's boobs. Now he's mad. He said nothing.

Hobie gently pushes his fans away: Excuse me, mate. This is my darling, Miles. -he happily gets to brag about his Sunflower, his hands on his lover's shoulders- Wow, you look amazing, darling. Are you wearing my band's shirt. -his eyes practically shape into hearts- I always-

Miles cut him off: Qué estabas haciendo? -going full blown Puerto Rican Spanish-

Hobie arched his eyebrows: What? -he didn't know much Spanish only a few words like Hola or Sí or Gracias. Just enough to impress or small talk with Mrs. Morales-

Miles scowls: What were you just doing? Que estabas haciendo? -his jealousy already taken over like a virus-

Hobie: Wha-what do you mean? I'm here sign-

Miles cuts him off: No- Qué acabas de hacer, ahora mismo?

Hobies: Ahora? O'Hara? -Why is Miguel brought into this?-

Miles: NO, Pendejo! What did you just did, right now? In front of me! -he's getting so mad, almost jumping into conclusions- You think, that's fucking cute? You think I would like that shit?

Hobie blinks a couple of times being surprised with his partner: Miles, I don-

Gwen calls out: Miles! We thought we lost you!

Pav ran behind along with Peter: Yeah! Oh hey, Hobie!

Hobie turns to their friends: Oh Hey- -Miles grab Hobie's face with his left hand squishing his cheeks, forcing the guitar player to look at him. He formally made Hobie lean/hunched over to get on Miles' eye level-

Miles spoke Spanish again: Estoy hablando contigo? -His Spanish firm, more serious... more Puerto Rican accent to it- Crees estoy jugando contigo? You think this is a fucking joke? -his right hand pointing, wanting his index finger at his boyfriend-

Peter: Ohhh, there's that Puerto Rican side... -Everyone in the group knows, you never want to pissed off a Puerto Rican or any Latino for that matter especially if your in a relationship with one-

Hobie: Luv, I am a bit confused -he mutters through his squish cheeks- I don-

Miles: Puñeta, no puedes escuchar? You got no fucking problem listening to your fans, huh? Huh, I'm not fucking playing with you, Hobie! -He glares still staring at his man-

Gwen softly whispers: Guys... calm down. Everyone is looking at us -the crowd around them were quiet with loud music bashing in the room. The fangirls slowly shift away from Hobie and his boyfriend seeing how mad Miles is-

Miles: Hijo de Puta, estoy hablando! Hobie, I'm fucking talking to you! Why you're not answering me? -Hobie finally sees a lot of Rio in Miles.-

Pav whispers to Hobie: Miles is jealous... he found out you were flirting with your exs...

Miles: Pav, mama bicho. Why are you taking his side, asshole! -he glares at Pav-

Pav backs away with his hands up in defense: I'm just clearing the air, don't have to be mean!

Hobie got the gist of it: Ohhh! -he never knew his boyfriend could get jealous- Luv, I wasn't flirting. Your the only one for me!

Miles: Cabrón, estas jugando comigo? Carajo, mama culo de su putas! -he didn't believe him, he's already too pissed off-

Peter going on his phone looking up Miles' use of language: Ohh, these are not good! -he winced at the use of language-

Pav innocently: What does mama bicho mean?

Peter types it in: Yikes!

Pav looks over and gasps: MILES THATS SO MEAN!

Mayday: Mama bicho!

Peter jumps: Mayday no! That's bad! Bad word! -his daughter laughs out loud-

Hobie: Luv, honest. I just did a simple autograph. I don't care for them. I'm the singer, you gotta understand I have to sign a few tits and deal with them.

Miles scowls: You need to set boundaries! How would you like it if I did that with random people, huh?

Hobie's jealousy sparked: Heh, your not in a band, Morales.

Miles:Ah, see you don't like that. I am your boyfriend -he brought his boyfriend's face closer to him- you need to respect me and my wishes! I am your half, not these bitches! Me estás escuchando? Are you listening me? Do you understand the words I'm saying coming out of my mouth? I am, your boyfriend, tu vida, tu amor!

Hobie couldn't be anymore happier, the amount of jealousy his partner is throwing and claiming his love to him. It felt all to amazing, hearts can be seen around his head. Even his whole body turned pink with magazine words with I love you all over: Yes, luv. I hear you. -he happily listens-

Miles went on: I'm not your fucking friend that you just high five. I'm tu cielo! Tu amor! Not your fucking puta! Yo no soy tu amigo! Yo soy tu cariño, tu bombón, tu CORAZÓN- -Miles touch Hobie's chest- This right here is mine! You hear me! Esto es mío! I'm not playing with you, Hobie! Tu eres mi alma! -still fuming-

Hobie hugs him: Yes, I am. Yes, I'm an idiot. I'm so sorry, luv. -he gave in. He didn't care if he was right or wrong. He's too in love with his Sunflower. He would do anything for him- I am everything for you.

Miles huffs happily: Good! Next time, I will kick your ass if you pulled that shit! -he happily got carried by his boyfriend as they make out-

Gwen saw how everyone went back to normal and she sighs: I never thought he would get that mad!

Pav: Yeah, yikes!

Peter: At least, it cool down on their own.

Mayday: MAMA BICHO!

Gwen: MJ is gonna kill you...

Peter sighs: I know, maybe I can be like Hobie and give in!

Pav: Mmm, I don't think so!

[corpsebasil]

Spidey -> Ethan Landry Parte Uno

In which the web slinging superhero is closer than you think.

(Sorry I just LOVE this idea I can’t)

You groaned as you entered your apartment, dropping your cheer bag on the counter as you moved into the kitchen. It’d a long day at school—longer than normal—and you were exhausted. So you kicked off your cheer shoes and pulled your headache-inducing ponytail free, running your hands through your hair to massage your scalp.

Tara texted, making sure you got home, and you replied quickly.

Tare Bear 💜

Tara: hey girl, make it?

Y/N: yeah. about to eat another boring salad.

Tara: couch was on our ass today, what the hell? apparently she said we all need to lose five pounds before the game in two weeks

Y/N: I’m already swamped with homework wtf

Y/N: gym in the morning?

Tara: yeah, I’ll pick you up at five

You turned off your phone and grumbled to yourself, making your way towards your room. The siren song of ranch was loud but, if coach was serious, you’d do the boring alternative of a little bit of olive oil and lemon juice. As you made it into your room you yelped as a fist hit the window, knocking aggressively.

“What the hell…” you mumbled, opening up your window to glare at Spider-Man. “I was just about to drown my sorrows with a gallon of water. What do you want?”

“I sprained my wrist.” The spandex-wearing hero explained, already sneaking into your bedroom as you gave him space. “Help me out, doc?”

“Cant you go to a real doctor?” You asked, rolling your eyes as you moved to your dresser where you kept your medical supplies. As a third year med student, and a good keeper of secrets, you’d been tending to Spider-Man’s various injuries since freshmen year.

“But you’re so much nicer. And no, I cant.”

“What about Stark?” You asked, fishing out a bottle of Advil. “Doesn’t he have some sort of fancy doctor to help out Avengers?” You wiggled your eyebrows, glancing over as Spider-Man plopped onto your bed.

“Not an Avenger.” He mumbled, rolling his wrist around. You couldn’t see his face—had never seen it—but you were sure he was wincing. “Hey, nice uniform. Had fun with your pompons?”

“Yeah I know you like my uniform.” You scoffed, moving over. It was true, your short skirt and tight top did wonders for your figure. “Wish coach liked it. She’s saying we all need to lose five pounds before the game.”

“But you—I mean, you look great you—I mean your body is..” he trailed off, embarrassed, and your smile turned feline. “I just mean you look good. And stuff.”

“How sweet.” You laughed lightly, passing him the Advil. “I’ll get you some ice. You can take the meds while Im in the kitchen.”

You left the room, moving to grab your ice pack as you worked. It was strange, honestly. He’d been seeing you for a while now, your interactions friendly if not a bit flirtatious, but you still didn’t know anything about him. And weirdly enough, you wanted to. It wasn’t that you liked him or anything, but…

You went back to the bedroom, covering your eyes comically as you pretended to feel around.

“Covered up, Spidey?” You asked, fighting back a laugh when his chuckle filled the space between you.

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You uncovered your eyes and moved forward, offering the ice-pack. When he took it, his covered fingers met your own, the smooth fabric of the suit cool against your skin. You fought a suddenly sharp inhale and backed up, gesturing to the window.

“Well, um. Goodnight.” You said, smiling a tad bit awkwardly. “Gotta go make myself a pile of lettuce. See you around.”

“Wait—” he stood up suddenly and you blinked. “I mean—want to…do something? Like watch a movie or—?”

“Spidey.” You laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Superhero,” you started, pointing to him. “civilian.” You added, pointing to yourself. “Isn’t that like..against protocol?”

“No one’s gonna know.” He protested, moving a step forward. “Come on, aren’t we friends, Y/N?”

You stared, looking at his towering, muscular form. And you suddenly felt a twinge of disappointment. Or was it longing?

“I’m just your free medic.” You said, turning your back to him. “See you later!”

It was quiet for a moment so you glanced over your shoulder.

He was gone.

-

You were stretching when Ethan, Chad’s roommate and your nerdy friend, jogged up to you. He looked slightly sweaty and out of breath, like he’d run all the way from his late night Econ class to meet you at the football field. You raised your brows, wiping the dirt off your skirt as you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, E.” You greeted, scanning him up and down with your eyes. He’d agreed to drive you home after practice, claiming it was too dangerous to walk alone. Chad had already taken Tara home, so you were stuck with Ethan. “Run all the way here? Getting your laps in?”

“Yeah. I mean—no. Not all the way.”

“Sure you didn’t.” You laughed, looping your arm through his as you walked off the field, leading him towards the parking lot. “My valiant rescuer. What will I ever do to thank you?”

“Wanna get food?” He asked, raising his brows. “We can study for the test while we wait.”

“Yeah I—” you frowned. “I cant. Sorry. Sticking to salads and protein shakes right now, E.”

“Come on. You’re gorgeous. You’re coach is an idiot.” He told you, not really realizing what he’d said, but your brows knit.

“Did Tara tell you?” You asked, confused, and his cheeks reddened.

“Yeah I mean. Chad was talking about it. Saying Tara was pissed.”

“Rightfully so. We’re skinny enough as it is.” You complained, frowning as you made your way to his car. Then you paused, smiling a bit wickedly. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

Ethan was flustered, but smiled shyly as he opened the passenger door for you.

“Obviously.” He mumbled, brown eyes on yours, and you grinned.

“Awww, E.” You cooed, reaching up to pinch his cheek before you climbed into the car.

Later, clad in an oversized shirt, you sat next to Ethan on the couch, laughing. He was gagging dramatically, his own shake in front of him half-drank before he’d requested a sip of your own. Yours was with water, instead of milk, and was the vegan protein powder you kept in your pantry. He’d allowed you to convince him to drink a chocolate whey, not wanting to order the burger he’d wanted and have you suffer alone.

“God this is awful.” He griped, and you laughed loudly at his twisted up expression. “God how do you drink this?”

“Anything for cheer.” You giggled, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, you and your pompoms.” He mumbled, and you poked him in the side.

“You like my pompoms.”

“You know I do.” He shot back, turning to look at you, and your heart stuttered. Then he glanced away, looking a bit nervous, before looking back. “I like you, Y/N.” He admitted, and you raised a brow, even as you blushed.

“I should hope so. We’re friends, after all.”

“I mean more.” He added, looking away awkwardly at your silence. “It’s fine if you don’t.”

But his breathing hitched a fraction when you took his face in your hand and made him look at you, scanning those gorgeous eyes of his for any hint of reluctance. When there was none you leaned forward, your own heart rate increasing as you pressed your mouth softly against his.

Okay, it was hardly a kiss. Only so much so that you could acknowledge the graze of his mouth against your own—could feel the curve and slope of his lips. But then he was jumping, yanking away, as one of the loudest ringtones you’d ever heard went off.

Even you startled, and you began to laugh before seeing the panicked look on his face.

“E? You okay—?”

“I gotta go. I’m sorry!” He said, expression hardening as he bolted to his feet and practically tore out of your apartment.

So you sat there feeling slightly dumb, your lips still tingling from the kiss.

-

Later, hours later, you were bored, watching Tombraider for the billionth time on your laptop.

Tare Bear 💜

Y/N: I kissed Ethan

Y/N: well, kind of

Tara: WHAT

Y/N: we were having fun and then I kissed him and he just left ??? Like did I do something wrong ??

Tara: you’re the hottest girl in school . Maybe he just panicked ??

You began typing again but froze when you heard the familiar knocks at your window, and you sighed loudly. You moved over and opened it up, giving Spider-Man a weighted stare.

“Not now, Web Boy. I’m going through a crisis.”

“I got cut!” He protested, grabbing the window with insane strength to stop you from pushing it down. “Come on, Y/N.”

You stared at those eyes, those white eyes of the mask, and rolled your own.

“Fine. Fine. I’m getting a glass of wine, want anything?”

“No thanks.” The hero said brightly, crawling inside when you moved away. You got your glass of wine before coming back and scoffing, staring at the cut he was so worried about.

“That is a paper-cut, Spidey. A paper cut.”

“What if it’s infected?” He asked, pouting, and you folded.

“Jesus, you’re going to be the death of me.” You grumbled, taking a large gulp before moving to your dresser to get anti-biotic salve and a bandaid. He’d taken the glove off on his right hand and was flexing his fingers over and over. “Speaking of death, I’m going to kill a boy. Maybe you could turn a blind eye from your hero shit and let me get away with it.”

“What?” He asked, voice cautious as you moved closer. “What…boy?”

“This guy he—“ you paused, sighing dramatically. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Give me your hand.”

“Wait, I wanna know.” He protested, holding his hand up high out of reach. The man was tall, for Christ’s sake.

“Seriously? Is this what we do now? Gossip about our love lives?” You smirked, fighting down the desire to tell him. You’d known him for a long time, now. Surely it wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen. “Are we braiding each other’s hair next? Pillow fighting?”

“We can pillow fight but I might take your eye out by accident.” When you opened your mouth to argue he pushed his hand down into your own, and the sudden warmth and smoothness of his skin startled you. “Tell me about this guy. Maybe I can help.”

You stared at him for a moment, your cheeks flushing a bit as you glanced down at the hand in your own. Your thumb grazed his knuckles involuntarily before you blinked, clearing your head and turning his fingers up so you could see them.

“Well..” you started, cleaning his finger off with a wet rag as you spoke. Truly he was such a baby. He used to only come to you for big things and now you were treating paper-cuts? “He’s kind of dorky, but I like that. He treats me like a human being and not just a piece of ass like a lot of frat guys do to cheerleaders.” You continued, wiping on some salve. “But…tonight I..” you swallowed, blinking down at his hand as you opened up a bandaid and smoothed it down. “I think I fucked up.”

“How?” Spider-Man asked, and he sounded slightly out of breath. You looked up at his face.

“I kissed him. Sort of. And then he just ran like—he literally could not get out of here fast enough.”

“Maybe he had to go somewhere?” Spidey offered, and didn’t let your hand go when you moved to set his free. “I don’t know I just think any guy would be stupid to run away from you.”

“Sure you do.”

“I do. Why do you think I keep coming back?”

You stared down at him, at the superhero you’d been tending to for so long, and something in you shifted. You moved towards him, your knees brushing his own where he sat on your bed. Your eyes were soft and filled with…Spider-Man didn’t know….but you looked so pretty and he…

“Is that why you come?” You asked, biting your bottom lip. “Because you…”

You reached out, touching his arm carefully, well aware the physical boundaries between you had never been crossed like this. And when you set your hands on his shoulders, he didn’t protest. If anything he leaned into your touch, both of your breaths catching when you braved going further and climbed onto his lap, settling yourself against him.

The latex was surprisingly smooth and warm against your bare legs, his hands immediately finding your waist to hold you still.

“Y/N.” He breathed, masked face so close to your own. “You know why I come back.” He said, and you could’ve sworn your heart skipped a beat. “I come back for you.”

You smiled softly at that, your hands sliding up his neck. But when your thumbs hooked under his mask and began to cautiously slide it up, he grabbed onto your wrists. You shot him a questioning look.

“Not—not yet.” He told you, and you frowned. You must’ve been losing your damn touch, because—

But then he was moving closer, hands finding your neck as his masked-mouth met yours, the foreign sensation strange but not at all unenjoyable. You could feel the shape of him, feel his warmth pressed against you, and it felt…familiar. Right. You made a soft noise and he gripped your hips tighter, your eyes pulling back to meet his.

“I wanna kiss you for real.” You murmured, running a thumb over his lips through the suit, and he shook his head.

“Not yet. Please. Give me time.”

You nodded, allowing him to slip his arms around your waist as he pulled you into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he breathed. You could’ve sworn he mumbled something but you ignored it, too busy allowing the masked hero to press your entire body against his.

Afterwards, what felt like minutes, he ran a hand through your hair and pulled you away.

“I have to go.” He said, sounded regretful. “I’ll see you again soon. I promise.”

“Okay.” You whispered, wishing you could see even a glimpse of his face, but understanding. “Okay. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” He repeated as you moved off him, but not before planting one last kiss against your head. He dove out the window and swung off into the night, doing an elaborate flip you knew he thought would impress you.

It did.

HELLLOOOO WHATBDONYOU GUYS THINK?

[abbythewritor]

'Fairness." One Piece x Saitama reader. 0

"Just a Normal girl looking for an everyday life. At least, if you call sailing across the seas with idiots with useless dreams a simple task, then you might wanna see a doctor. Seriously."

Warnings: Blood, gore, mentions of Luekimia, and heaps amount of blood and strength. It might be a little cursing, but not bad, and maybe some flirting in there, but it's mostly clean.

Other things:

-You didn't get bald due to your powers; you got bald to an extreme illness.

-You part of the straw hat crew, but others are interested in you and your power.

-Everyone that is a male is taller than you.

-Monsters from the OPM world will appear in One Piece, and I'll make some new monsters you will fight.

-I hope you enjoy my book and enjoy the prologue. :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The world is crazy....and boring.

Every human on this earth has advanced opportunities to grow, become successful, and be someone or something better.

Humans can go to college, date, be an actor, actresses, heck, even garbage men.

Some people, in many most eyes, are viewed as heroes, police officers, firefighters, heck, even people who are just doing a small amount of good.

When we look at the earth thoroughly and see the truth about life, anything and anyone has to start simple before they can become something more significant.

Heck, when life proceeds, and as human lives grow, excitement rolls up, the feeling of achieving something or living off of adventure.

That's what I wanted as a kid, to become firm, to have a life full of excitement, adrenaline, heck, even adventure.

But that all blew over one day when I discovered I had leukemia.

My family was devastated, as my excitement and dreams were gone in one instant.

You see, I grew up in a world where people can have incredible powers, who all fight all kinds of monsters, creatures, and even aliens that invade our earth. I was so inspired by them during my Kemo treatment that I acted like I was one of them, living in excitement and adventure; I wanted to grow and become something better.

But, at that time, I was getting worse; my hair was all gone, my bones were brittle, and the doc said I had little time to live.

Until one day, a man visited me...a tall, bald man, his suit a bright yellow color, his cap blowing like a guardian angel.

He protected me and my room from a monster, a monster giant his size.

His eyes were filled with boredom, anger as his eyes met mine, noticing I was just like him. He also noticed the stupid wires connected to me, especially a breathing tube, which caused his heart to grow weak.

The way the man looked back at the monster, killing it with a single punch, I felt surprised and scared?

His hand was near mine as he dropped some type of metal circle, which fell to the floor where his eyes met.

I sensed that something was bothering him, knowing he may have lost someone he cared about.

Without hesitation, I grasped the man's hand, which made him look at me.

He could sense my worry as my tiny feet stood on the bed, heading closer to him as he kneeled. "Mister, I'm sorry," I said as he kneeled down to me blankly. "Why are you sorry? I should be sorry for wrecking your room." My head shook. "It's just a room; you lost someone, didn't you?" His head tilted. "What do you mean-Oh." He realized what you were discussing as his hands picked up a metal ball. "He seemed important...did that monster kill him?" His eyes looked to you again, not knowing what to say as he hated to tell little ones lousy news. But, again, a hero doesn't lie, as this kind of stuff strikes the man in the heart."You're a smart one, Kid, and yes...his name was Genos; you pretty brave when that monster came; what's your name?" "Y/n. Y/n L/n, what's your name, Mister?" He smiled slightly. "Saitama, you have a nice name; we have unique styles; your hair is fabulous today, Y/n." He patted your head as you giggled with the feeling of his rubber gloves. "I don't have hair, neither do you, Mister Saitama; how did you lose your hair?" "Hmm.." He looked up to his head, then back to you, "A monster ate it." Your eyes widened. "No way, really? Was the monster you just beat up the one that ate your hair?!" Saitama chuckled slightly as his head shook. "No, let's just say the monster was friendly. Did the same thing happen to you-" He paused when your face turned sad as you looked at your hands. "Have you heard of the disease called leukemia?" His heart broke while nodding. "Yeah, it's a type of cancer...is that...how you lost your hair?" Looking up at Saitama, tears glossed over your orbs as you nodded. "It happened a year ago, just before my parents passed away. We're so poor we didn't know how my treatment would go, but after the monsters killed them, I was handed to an orphanage, and they took me here to get treated. Funny huh? Seeing a little girl going through the worse sickness in the world, alone, without family? I just wanted to be an ordinary girl with a life full of excitement and adventure. Instead, I'm hooked up to these stupid wires. Ugly, huh?" "No." You looked at him as he sat on the end of your bed. "I understand the feeling of wanting excitement and adventure, but having those in life doesn't make you a better person; excitement is what comes through you. Those wires, you being in here, still alive, excite me, and you're so brave. I mean, you just experienced something exciting; I kicked a monster's ass-" He paused what he just said as he slapped a hand over his mouth, as you giggled at his words. "Bad word, Saitama! No cursing allowed!" His hands went up with defense. "I did not say anything; you heard things Y/n. "That's a lie! You just sinned again!" "Oh no, what so ever will I do? Will though lord of this earth send me to damnation?" Standing on the bed, you smirk. "I, an Angel of God, she'll give you a chance to repent, and you will be sent to heaven like Genos is right now!" Getting up, Saitama kneeled and bowed his head.

"Oh gorgeous angel of heaven, please forgive my stupid, bald-headed self and accept my hands as I repent of the sins I committed." Heart warm and eyes sparkling, you grasped his hands easily as he looked up to your beautiful, bright smile. "You are forgiven, Hero!" Smiling, he stood up. "I'm glad; I didn't want to lose my best friend." Your eyes widened while your head tilted. "Best friend?! But, Mister, we just met-" "So? Let's call it an Instant connection-" *Boom!* An explosion was shown in the distance of your knocked-over wall, the floor rumbling from the impact as he looked at you quickly but calmly. "Duty calls, say, if I defeat this monster, ice cream is on me, okay?" His heart warmed from your excited face. "Really?!" "Of course, but in case I don't come back, here." Taking off his cape, he dropped it over your shoulders, which made your eyebrows furrow. "But, you need this-" His hand went up as destruction was still heard in the distance. "It's just a piece of clothing in my eyes; you seem to need it more than I do because what I see...." Walking closer to you, he gave one last head rub as he gave you a soft yet warm smile. "Is a hero...."

"A hero that deserves fairness in the world."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[kenny-the-ken]

Y O U + M E

Part 1

Soooo!!! Last nights South Park was everything I wanted but didn't know I needed!!! Kenny with his hood I mean,,, I am deceased. I'm having some serious writer's block, so please feel free to send me requests, HCs too!! I wanna get to know you all, and thanks for all the love on my previous fics. I normally hate my writing so knowing you guys like it is amazing!! This fic contains string language, angst, toxic thinking, obsession and sexual themes. ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!! If you guys like this fic I can write more parts!! Loosely based on the Netflix show YOU!!!

Kenny hasn't been with another girl since the last time, and that was not something he wanted to repeat. That was until his eye was caught by you, and he couldn't tear his eyes away.

You were new here, family just moved to town and you had transferred to South Park High, and he was determined to know more about you.

It's not an obsession, he isn't obsessed, is he? So far he knew your name was y/n, you had moved here from the UK, so quite a far away from home, you were shy, trying your best to fit in, you were alternative in how you dressed, Kenny has already touched himself thinking about you, and he swore it was the best wank he'd ever had! It was clear to him that you were thirsty for that kind of attention, blushing as other boys talked and flirted with you, and his blood boiled, you would be his, who the fuck did these other guys think they were? How dare they even look at you in that way!

Although he didn't blame them, those short skirts, tight tops with too much cleavage and today was the day that Kenny's resolve broke, he could no longer watch from the sidelines, you were wearing the shortest shorts he'd ever seen with knee high socks and a lace bralette, no bra! God he was going insane. You had a flannel shirt tied loosely around your waist and Doc Martin boots on, and god you had tattoos! He swore you were so angelic looking it was sinful, and he knew he had to talk to you, before someone else could shoot their shot. You would be his. He was damned sure of it.

One problem though, how to approach you without creeping you out? You didn't know him, but he knew you, you were both meant for each other, you just didn't know it yet, but how to catch your attention. He'd have to think, and fast.

That was before his perverse thoughts were interrupted by the harsh ringing of the bell.

"Fuck." He muttered under his breath, slamming his locker in annoyance before making his way to English class, plopping down on his seat, lost in his own thoughts as the rest of the class filtered into the room.

He was once again distracted from his thoughts about you by the scent of your perfume, his head rising as you both met each others gaze, you smiled at him, as he gave you a gapped tooth smile back.

Trust the teacher to ruin his shot!

"Quiet class! I have a lot planned for todays lesson so let's cut to the chase, I have paired you all up for group work, you will be working in pairs! This is an analysis of the prose we have been reading, and I expect a presentation and a written essay that both of you must present to the class next week."

She turned her back, writing on the chalk board who was paired together, and Kenny swore his heart skipped a beat when he noticed he was paired with you. He's never wanted to fist bump the air so much in all his life, but he didn't want you to notice him geeking out over you.

"Please sit next to your partner and get started straight away!" You teacher said to the class, and you moved your seat beside Kenny's, you both sharing a desk.

"Hey, I'm y/n, I'm new here from the UK so sorry if some of what I say doesn't make sense, our slang is hard to forget." You laughed, and Kenny nodded.

"Most people can't understand me either." He mumbled, his hood up. Let her see your face, idiot! His brain almost screamed at him as he unzipped his coat, taking his hood down, and it didn't go unnoticed by his friends. They knew he was hot on your tail, and what Kenny wants, he gets.

Your mouth was wide as you studied your partners face, a blush on your cheeks. He was hot, his fluffy blonde hair sitting messily atop his head, his pale skin and subtle freckles and that adorable little gappy smile. Fuck! You'd only moved a week ago and already you were crushing on someone.

"I'm Kenny. We can meet at the park after school and work on our project if you're up for up it?" He offered, you would definitely be turned off if you seen how his family were and what his home was like, and he was not losing you because of his parents and their usual neglectful bullshit.

"Or you could swing by my house? I'll get us coffee and order some pizza?" You offered, twiddling your pen between your thumb and forefinger, trying to avoid direct eye contact out of fear of blushing in front of him.

"That sounds a million times better, thanks." Kenny replied, a small smile on his face, he took this opportunity to sneak a quick look at your cleavage, and he swore he could make out the shape of your hard nipples through your bralette, and were those piercings?! Fuck, what were you doing to him? Don't get hard, Jesus Christ don't get hard!

"Can I have your number? So I can send you my address?" You asked, offering him your phone to punch his number into.

And he gladly accepted, typing his number on to your phone, and while you were distracted talking to Wendy he quickly installed a tracking app on your phone, just so he could know where you were at all times, to keep you safe of course.

"There you go." Kenny replied, holding your phone out to you as you took it from him, smiling at him.

"So... tell me a little about you, Kenny?" His eyebrow quirked at your sudden question. Were you wanting to find out more about him because you were partnered with him and just being friendly? Or did you ask because you were interested in getting to know him, because he wanted to know everything there was to know about you.

"I'm eighteen, I've lived in South Park for my whole life, and I've always been known of the poorest kid of the school, thanks to Eric over there." He said, nodding his head in the direction we're the older boy sat, you could hear him laughing at his own jokes, he seemed like an ass.

"I have a brother and a younger sister, Kevin and Karen. Just a warning though, people here love to gossip, so if anyone is bothering you, let me know." Kenny said kindly, his eyes not tearing from you once, it was as if you two were the only people in the room, god how was he going to control himself when he was in your bedroom, just you two.

"So tell me a little about yourself, y/n." Kenny inquired, and he was genuinely interested, soul mates needed to know all there was about each other, and he was determined to know you, he just hoped that you'd let him.

"Um... I'm eighteen too, I'm an only child, live with my mother, but she has some... problems, y'know?" You said, and Kenny knew exactly what you meant, his parents were the crème de la crème of drug and alcohol addicts, so he knew fine and well what she meant. Maybe they moved here for a new start.

"You smoke?" He asked curiously.

"Yeah, you smoke weed?" You asked back, a small smirk on your face.

"Fuck yeah, I've dabbled with a lot of drugs, I mean, I've been exposed to them all my life." Kenny said, his eyes staring at his table, then back to you.

"I'll buy pizza and get us coffees if you bring the weed, deal?" You asked, putting your hand out to the blonde boy in front of you.

"Deal!" Kenny said, a smirk on his own face as the bell rang for the end of class.

You began packing up your things off your table and into your bag and as you bent down to grab your pen that had fallen on the floor, Kenny thought his eyes had popped fully out of his head. He stared at your ass and your thick thighs and my god how he wanted his head between them.

When you stood back up you finished packing and turned to see Kenny was waiting on you.

"If you wanna grab lunch together you can come with with me?" He asked, a small smile on his face, and boy did he hope that you said yes.

"That sounds lovely. Thanks, Kenny." You replied, throwing your back pack over your shoulder and beginning to walk out of the classroom with Kenny.

You could feel the eyes of other girls burning into the back of you as you both walked down the corridor, chatting together and making jokes as you both erupted into laughter.

Even though he was fully fixated on what you were talking about, Kenny was dazed, he was deep in thought, and it was all about you. About how your shirts hugged that perfectly round ass, how sensitive your nipples would be, what piercings would adorn them, did you have any tattoos that he couldn't see? His mind swirled.

As you both entered the cafeteria, he smiled and waved at his friends, before leading you over to introduce you.

"Guys, this is y/n m, she's new here. Y/n this is Eric, Kyle, Stan, Jimmy, Craig and Tweek." He said, pointing to each individual as he said their names, and you smiled.

"Hey guys, hopefully we can all be friends." You said, taking a seat between Kenny and Kyle.

"Kenny, how did you manage to get this pretty girl to befriend you?" Stan blurred outright, his cheeks going red as he averted both of your gazes.

"Um, we got partnered up together in English and it looks like we have a lot in common, and Kenny seems really nice." You said as the rest of the group nodded as if in sync.

"That makes sense." Kyle said to no one in particular and Kenny was in his own world again. You thought he was nice? He was making a good start, now he had to get you to fall in love with him, and he was pretty sure he knew how.

The rest of the day was pretty much standard procedure as far as Kenny was concerned, you had texted him, telling him to come over at 7pm.

So he had some free time on his hands. And he knew exactly what to do with it.

[minorisato]

if that's the case, won't you dance with me?

transformers / dratchet / wc: 2756 / warnings: NSFT / notes: wrote this forever ago, saw it in my docs, decided to touch it up and post it. takes place during mtmte. / consider commissioning me!

It’s not that Drift was unaware of Ratchet’s… reputation. Either reputation, actually, though he long understood that The Hatchet was a projection of his rather awful berthside manner. No, Drift had long disregarded that one. Ratchet’s other reputation, however, Drift had no way to prove or disprove. Just a longstanding series of rumours and a joke or two from Ratchet himself about “back in the day.”

But surely some jokes, a partier did not make. It was rude to assume anything about anyone’s past proclivities based on rumours and jokes, including Ratchet. Drift wouldn’t stoop to such a level.

When videos started surfacing, that was when Drift started thinking there might be something to those little “party ambulance” rumours. And by “when videos started surfacing” he means “when he found the videos while looking for fap material.”

Primus. Is he a bad person for this? Ratchet looks young in the videos– his frame is the same as it was all those years ago, when he– when he. Of course Drift would recognize him. These had to be taken not all too long before that. Meaning– meaning university.

Ratchet either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care that he’s being filmed. Honestly, the video quality is actually quite poor, clearly taken in the heat of the moment. It’s a shot of Ratchet from behind, bouncing up and down, up and down on the nameless mech’s spike. He’s panting and whining and moaning, yes yes yes, don’t stop, feels so good, like he’s in heat. The nameless mech doesn’t say a word, but he does grope Ratchet’s aft. Drift scoffs. Classless. As if he wouldn’t also do that.

With how out-of-the-picture the nameless mech is, it’s so easy for Drift to imagine that he’s the one laying back, that it’s Ratchet bouncing up and down on his spike, moaning for him–

Drift, Drift–

“Drift! Drift, come in!” 

Drift jumps, immediately shutting off the video and retracting his spike and resetting his vocals and he really wasn’t doing anything he promises, before finally answering his comm. “Drift speaking. Is there a situation?”

“Drift, you need to go to the medbay like, now,” Rodimus tells him, sighing into the comm. “Ratchet keeps calling me and saying he’s been pinging you? He’s gonna have a fucking fit if you miss your physical again. And TBH,” did he just say TBH out loud, “I’m gonna be pissed too. You have like, ten minutes to get to medbay before I go to your hab and drag you there myself.” 

Drift groans. Right. Right, ‘cause that was today. “I’m going, I’m going. Drift out.”

~~~~

“There you are!” Ratchet shouts, the minute Drift enters. “Y’know, I was anticipating actually having a good day today, when even Rodimus showed up on time. But nope, can’t ever keep a schedule straight.”

Drift’s finials droop a bit. “Sorry, Ratch.”

The medic huffs. “Yeah, yeah. Get on the berth, I do have other patients today.” He grumbles. “Not for a bit, but I do.”

Drift does as he’s told, and takes a glance around the medbay as he climbs up. “Where’s Aid and Ambulon?”

Ratchet sets out his tools, taking his seat next to the berth. “Said they were goin’ on break. Probably at Swerve’s.” He shrugs. “It’s a slow day, basically just you lot–” Lost Light command, he means– “and a few other mechs.”

“Makes sense,” Drift nods, and then steels himself and prepares his facade of being extremely normal after just jacking off to the mech about to do medical work on him.

Primus. He can’t do this.

“Your plating’s quite warm,” Ratchet huffs. “Normally if it’s this warm, your cooling fans should have clicked on. Have you noticed any trouble with them coming on, recently?” Ratchet asks, activating the manual retraction of Drift’s paneling, revealing his medical ports.

Drift squirms a bit, and Ratchet puts a servo on his torso, to keep him still. Drift forces his cooling fans to not activate. “No, uh. No trouble with those recently.”

Ratchet hums, reaching for a two-ended cable. “See, I know Rodimus tends to run hotter than usual, but I don’t have that recorded for you. Seems best to plug in and check your internal temperature, just in case.”

“No!” Drift shouts, sitting upright very slightly. Ratchet backs up at the movement, yanking his hand back from Drift’s torso. “No, it’s seriously nothing to be worried about. You don’t need to plug in.”

Ratchet squints. “Drift, you’re not normally so up-in-arms about me plugging in. You realize how suspicious this looks, right.”

Drift does. “Ratchet, please trust me, it’s nothing. You don’t need to plug in.”

Ratchet raises an optical ridge. “Mhm. I’m sure. Drift, I’m a doctor. If you’re overheating, I need to make sure you aren’t gonna melt your own circuits.”

“Ratch, you really don’t–”

“Hush up.” And then Ratchet is plugging one end of the two-way cable into Drift’s medical port, and another end of it into his own. Drift sees no point, then, at hiding the mortification he’s experiencing, because Ratchet is going to feel it anyway. In fact, Ratchet does feel it, and he scoffs. “Drift, you really don’t need to be so worried. It’s standard practice for a physical.”

Drift keeps quiet, raising his servos to cover his face, which Ratchet thankfully does not scold him for. Ratchet runs through him, pulls up his diagnostics, and hums. “You are running much hotter. Drift, I need you to be honest with me here, do you know why your temperature is so hiked?”

Drift exvents, and lowers his hands from his faceplates. He can do this. He can do this! Ratchet is a doctor, and really he doesn’t need to go into detail. It’ll be fine. Ratchet, I was jacking off. Probably shouldn’t say it like that, that’s very unprofessional. Ratchet, I was masturbating. Is that too straightforward? Ratchet, I was getting off. Is that fine?

“Drift?”

Oh Primus he’s taking too long.

“Ratchet,” he sighs, “I was… doing things. Before this.” Oh. Oh Primus no, that’s not how he was supposed to say it. Why did he say it like that?

Ratchet raises an optical ridge. “Yeah? Doing things?”

Drift nods. He’s experiencing a whole new level of mortification which Ratchet can definitely feel through him.

“Drift,” Ratchet questions, “I know you’re not on drugs. I know you aren’t. If you were I would have noticed immediately. Just tell me what you were doing.”

Oh, he can’t do this. “Ratchet I was– I was getting off.” That’s fine. That’s fine! That’s not even more mortifying. That’s fine. It’s over.

“Oh,” Ratchet lets out, “I– I see. Yes, that would raise your temperature. That makes sense.” Ratchet huffs. “You probably also cut off your cooling fans on purpose, then. You oughta let them go, staying too hot for too long can end up damaging your circuits and interior plating.”

Drift nods, and then does as he’s told. The sound of cooling fans permeates the overall quiet of the medbay. “I’m– I’m very sorry.”

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” Ratchet tells him, though doesn’t he himself look a little… off-kilter? Doesn’t he also look a little pink in the faceplates? “Y’know, I’ve seen a lot of mechs injure themselves that way, so really just hearing that you’re getting up to it in the privacy of your own hab isn’t anything to be worried over. In fact, you oughta keep it in your hab.” He pulls out a small tool, one to get in-between his transformation seams, and notably does not unplug himself from Drift. “My point is that you’re fine.”

“Of course,” Drift nods. “You– you’ve seen a lot, I’m sure.” He’s just trying to make conversation, trying to distract from literally everything that’s going on right now.

Ratchet smirks. “Yeah, I’ve seen quite a thing or two in my day. You ever seen a mech slice their own spike off?” Drift’s optics widen, and he shakes his head. “Ha! Yeah, pray you don’t end up doing that to yourself, swordsmech.” He smiles. “Oh, Primus. One time, back in university–”

Drift’s fans kick up, then, against his own will. They do so to such an extent that it actually cuts Ratchet off, and the medic notices, and Drift tries to force them back down as fast as he can, but it’s too late, the damage is done.

“Drift,” Ratchet starts, only for Drift to cut him off.

“Please don’t mention them.”

“Drift,” Ratchet continues anyway, “your fans…”

“Please don’t mention them.”

“When you said you were– were getting off,” he continues, leaning back, and resets his vocals, coughing into his fist. “I know there are videos out there, Drift.” He says, quieter than anything else he’s said. “I’m not– I’m not accusing you of anything, it just. Would explain, y’know, why you’ve been so hesitant.”

Drift squirms. “Yeah.”

Ratchet’s optics widen. “Yeah?”

“I– I found some. On the net. I’m sorry, Ratchet.”

The medic’s optics fall half-lidded, and he lets out an exvent. “No, you don’t need to apologize. They’re out there, I don’t mind, and if you do anything with them that’s your own business. I suppose I just– wanted to know.”

Drift, then, raises an optical ridge of his own. “Why did you want to know?”

Ratchet scoffs, looking away. “No reason.”

“Are you embarrassed about it?” Drift asks, and sits up fully. “I can mention it to Magnus, we can have them taken down. I know you said you don’t mind that they’re up, but if it bothers you, we can have them taken down.”

“It’s not that,” Ratchet admits after a moment, turning back to look at Drift. “I’m serious, I don’t mind them. I was just curious.”

“But why?”

“Drift…”

“Please?” Drift asks, “I know– it’s not really my business, I know. But if you need to talk about it you can tell me. I’m not going to, to lose respect for you, or anything like that.” And then, quietly, despite wanting to smack himself in the head about it, “I don’t think I could ever lose respect for you.” Not after what you did for me.

Ratchet’s optics glance around, and he lets out an exvent, shoulders slumping. “Drift, do you think I’m attractive?”

What? “What?”

“Nothing! Nothing nevermind forget about it.”

“No, no,” Drift asks, swinging his legs down, hanging off the berth, so he can look at Ratchet directly. “No, what do you mean? I told you I was getting off to–” to a video of you from university. “–That.”

“Yes, but,” Ratchet asks, and he sounds so flustered, and Drift can feel it, they’re still plugged in together, he can feel that embarrassment. “I mean me, now. Do you think I’m attractive.”

“Yes?” Drift admits, before even thinking about it.

Ratchet’s faceplates become a brighter pink. There’s no doubt about it now, he’s blushing. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry.”

“NO,” Ratchet shouts. “No, I mean. It’s. Thank you. I’m– I’m happy about that.”

“You’re happy about it?” Drift asks, and Ratchet looks down, nodding. “You’re happy that I think you’re attractive.” Another nod. “Am I attractive?”

“Drift–”

“You asked me, now I’m asking you,” the swordsmech figures.

It takes Ratchet a moment, but eventually, “Yes, Drift, you’re very attractive.” 

Drift is normal about that.

“WHY did your temperature hike so bad when I said that.” Ratchet moves to cover his faceplates, now, pink covering his cheeks. “Why did that affect you so badly.”

“Sorry, Ratch,” Drift smiles, and he’s almost laughing. He feels lightheaded. “Can’t help it. You have that effect on me.”

“Be professional,” Ratchet hisses, and Drift actually does laugh, then.

“You’re saying that now?” He smiles, and leans back on the berth. “C’mon, doc, you have other patients today, better finish me off. Up. Finish me up.”

“I will finish you off,” Ratchet scoffs, and then there’s another manual override, and– oh, hello, that is Drift’s spike. Huh. Haven’t seen you since five pages ago.

“Ratchet?” Drift asks, sitting upright again, because hello? Hello?

“I told you that having your temperature hiked for too long can do damage,” Ratchet huffs, moving to lean over Drift. “The way I see it, there is a very simple solution to you being so overheated. Right?”

Drift is reeling. “Are you going to suck my spike?”

“Do you want me to?” Ratchet asks, a servo resting on Drift’s thigh.

Drift’s engine revs, which he wasn’t trying to do, but Ratchet shudders in a way that tells him that he liked that sound. “Yeah, fuck yeah, I would like that.” He moves a servo to rest on Ratchet’s helm– not pressing, just resting it there, gently.

Ratchet exvents, and very gently laps at the tip of it, and Drift, unable to help himself, bucks his hips forward. Ratchet chuckles, one servo wrapping around the base, and takes the head into his mouth. Drift lets out a groan, grip on Ratchet’s helm tightening slightly, as the medic bobs up and down, taking more and more of it into his mouth with each. Ratchet hums around it, the sensation causing Drift to groan once again, rolling his hips up into it gently, not wanting to hurt the medic.

Ratchet raises his head off momentarily, putting his servo to work, rubbing up and down. This is going to give Drift fantasy fuel for eons. “You seem to like it,” Ratchet chuckles, and Drift nods, biting his own servo to keep quiet. “Want me to keep going?”

Drift nods. “Ratch, I’m– I’m already not gonna last long.” And he’s not– this has all been, in essence, foreplay to him. He edged himself, ran here, and got teased, and now he’s getting a blowjob about it.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Ratchet tells him, and then sinks down again, running his glossa along the underside as he does. Drift whines, and again bucks his hips involuntarily. He’s about to choke out an apology when Ratchet looks up at him, really looks at him, and when he raises up, he does not sink back down. Just staying there, intake rested at the tip of the swordsmech’s spike.

“Ratch,” Drift starts, “do you want me to–”

Ratchet nods (as much as he can while his mouth is full of spike.) Drift resets his vocals, and grips Ratchet’s helm tighter. “You asked for it,” he huffs, and bucks his hips upwards, into the medic’s mouth. And then he does it again. And again.

He’s facefucking Ratchet. The medic’s throat cabling opens up with no trouble, taking everything Drift has to give him, and Ratchet doesn’t even flinch when Drift’s spike housing meets his intake, he doesn’t flinch as Drift abuses that wet heat. He’s facefucking Ratchet.

He’s gonna overload.

“Ratchet,” He gasps, “Ratchet, Ratchet, fuck–” he moans, whines, and speeds up his thrusting, bucking into Ratchet’s intake with everything he has, like this is the only time he’ll get to do it. He hopes it’s not. He hopes he’ll get to do it again, and again, and again. His charge is funneling back and forth, from him, to Ratchet, back to him.

He’s gonna overload.

He yanks Ratchet off of him, holding his helm tightly, keeping the medic– the medic, with a string of fluid hanging from his intake– positioned just above his spike, as he wraps a servo around it, tugging on it. On every downstroke, his hand meets Ratchet’s, the medic’s servo holding him at his base. “Ratchet,” he sighs, “Ratchet–”

“So good,” the medic tells him, his vocals straining, underlined with static. “So sweet, Drift–”

And then he’s overloading, he’s overloading, onto Ratchet’s face–

He’s almost knocked offline from the strength of it. He never thought he’d end up here. He never thought he’d get to do this. He feels like he’s in heaven, like he’s on cloud nine. He crashes down when his optics stop glitching and oh Primus he just overloaded onto Ratchet’s face. 

“Oh, fuck,” Drift exvents, “I’m– I’m so sorry, I didn’t, uh–”

“Hey,” Ratchet tells him. “You’re good. You’re alright.” He moves a servo to wipe some of the transfluid away from his optics, and then, in a moment which leaves Drift’s engine stalling, he licks the transfluid off of his servo.

“Ratchet–”

“Do you wanna go to Swerve’s?” Ratchet asks, continuing to do so. “After my shift, I mean. We should meet up after this.”

Drift resets his vocals. His fans, after joors of strain, are finally starting to calm down. “Yeah,” he exvents, “yeah, I would like that.”