#maybe it's been overused too idk

[stuckinapril]

I’m afraid she’s busting out the straightener again

[scionshtola]

hmmm i think i'm gonna keep following the ffxiv write prompts but keep them to myself unless i really like it or actually feel like it's a complete fic 😂

[ashtcnirwin]

🌻

[parkerluvsu]

can u write something about art and reader having high sex 😛😛😛🙏🏻🙏🏻 like idk just like a chill night at the dorm at stanford or something where they smoke a couple blunts and grind on each other idk!!!!!!!!!!!

MOONLIGHT (art donaldson x fem! reader)

sometimes you felt like a bad influence on art.. he wouldn't let anything that wasn't on his pre-planned diet touch his lips before he met you. but from the first puff of your joint under the bleachers of the tennis court, he was hooked. not just on the woozy feeling he got when he took too long of a hit, but on the feeling of having you around him.

the more you two hung out, the more art associated the feeling of his head in the clouds, not with the large puffs of smoke drifting around his room, but you the feeling of you sitting next to him, your legs draped over his. art feels guilty, if he got caught, he'd absolutely get thrown out of the tennis program, and probably never be able to attend a good school again, but on the other hand.. your sweet giggles as you blow smoke into his face gave made him forget all the consequences if he got caught.

the problem with you (and it's not even really a problem to art.. he thinks you're perfect) is you like things casual. sure you've made out with art in a haze of smoke, maybe grinded a bit over his jeans in the back of his overly clean jeep, and he can't even count the times that you've texted him "you up?" at 2am, but he's never been your "boyfriend".

art knows it would be hard to have a serious conversation with you without the guise of just coming over to smoke, so he shoots you a text.

art: hey can i come over? need to relax :)

the buzz of your phone from the desk beside you steals your attention from your math homework, a welcome distraction. you text him back quickly, eager to have an excuse to smoke.

an eager knock on your door comes only minutes later, arts face a mixture of nerves and excitement, like a kid sneaking candy from their parents. art looks as cute as ever in his wrinkled stanford shirt and his checkered shorts, hair tussled from a night at practice. "cmon in artie" his cheeks blush at the nickname as he enters your dorm, making himself comfortable in the cozy chair in the corner. you pull out the box of paraphernalia from under your bed, flower stickers peeling off of the box from overuse. you tilt your head to the side, looking at arts body language, his constant shifting telling you he's trying to seem calm but he really isn't. "what do you wanna smoke?" you ask him, knowing what his answer will be before he even opens his mouth, "whatever you want".

that seems to be arts answer for anything, "whatever you want", sometimes you think if you walked off the edge of a cliff he'd do the same. art was one of those people who followed everything you did, the way you sat, the way you talked, and even your vocabulary, he would shift to be more similar to you. even when he smoked for the very first time, he watched you inhale so deep and hold it in before blowing a large cloud of smoke into the air, he tried to do the same.. but ended up greening out and throwing up in the trashcan next to the tennis courts. the truth is, art would do that all over again if it meant even one more second with you, and he knew it was clingy and definitely too dependent for the casual situation you were in.. but he can't help himself.

me: sure, come over anytime

art is a lightweight in every sense of the word, whenever Patrick would take him to a frat party to get totally wasted, all it took was one red solo cup full of beer to have art stumbling over his own feet. It was the same with weed, it only took one hit for art to start slurring his words, his body pretty much melting into any surface near him. currently, it's the cozy chair in the corner of your room, but you can see his eyes drifting towards the cozy blankets on you bed. "art, you know you can go sit on my bed right?" his eyes widen and he shuffles over, flopping down on the bed in such a way that would make sober-him flush with embarrassment. you giggle as he wraps himself in the blankets, his head lolling onto the pillow. art blearily watches you come sit on the bed too, leaning against the wall for support. the sight of him tangled up in your blankets reminds you of previous late nights spent together, causing a flutter in your stomach that you're a little ashamed of. art leans over to give you the joint back, your fingers brushing together softly. "y'know you look super pretty right now" art says, "n-not that you don't always look pretty but like.. right now especially" he revises his statement, he's always such a people pleaser. you laugh, taking a long hit from the joint before giving him a wide smile. "thanks artie, you're pretty too" you reply, knowing he likes being called pretty, even though he'd absolutely never say it, the way his ears go red gives him away every time.

as the night goes on, and your shared joint turns into a stub, you find yourself closer to art than you thought you were, your sides pressed up against each other as you lay on your backs, staring up at your ceiling. the boring white paint suddenly seeming very interesting until you felt movement beside you, art was tuning on his side and leaning his face on his hand. you blink, "what are you looking at?" glancing at arts eyes that were fixed on your face. "you" art says simply, causing you to shake your head and laugh. "i know that art.. but why?" you ask, pressing for an answer from him. "dunno.. just your face is nice" he says, his face dropping into your shoulder. arts breath was hot against your neck, making you almost want to pull away, but you'd never do that, enjoying the weight of him against you. arts breathing rate increases against your neck and you wonder why until you feel a pressure against your thigh. "art.." he hums in response, only focused on the small sharp movements of his hips. you know how quickly he shifts from being all innocent and sweet to taking what he needs.

you're such a sucker for art, especially when he's high and he can't hide his feelings like he usually does. you shift your leg to the side to help him, inciting an immediate response of his eyes fluttering shut against your shoulder, his eyelashes tickling you gently. the position that you maneuvered into allowed arts leg to slot between yours as well, letting you slowly rock your hips against his leg, the feeling of his bare skin only making you feel more pleasure. before you know it, art is pressing hot kisses into your neck and your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. "mmmmmfuck" art groans against your neck, even though he's feeling less woozy than earlier, he's still sensitive, just the feeling of grinding against you having him teetering on the edge. suddenly, you feel his hips stutter and a dampness cover the front of his shorts. art holds his breath for a second before his whole body goes limp against you, his fingers not clenching the sheets anymore.

a comfortable silence falls between you, before art breaks it with his soft voice. "can we go again? 'm sorry i just.. i need you" he whines out, still not showing his face. you giggle softly and nod, lifting up your hips to pull off your pajama pants and panties, art doing the same with his shorts and boxers. "how do you want me?" you ask, sending a flutter of butterflies into arts stomach because of the sense of control you're giving him. art thinks for a second, "can you turn around..? please" he asks, a bit of hesitancy in his voice. you nod, turning to face the wall next to your bed, your back facing art. his gentle hands maneuver your legs into a position that's easy for him to slip into you. he does so slowly, more for your sake than his, he thinks if he pushed inside of you too fast he would surely cum prematurely (not like it hasn't happened before).

you feel art shiver against you, his hips pausing when he enters your fully, his balls resting snugly against your ass. art could truly stay like this forever, if he had the patience and resolve.. but he doesn't, his hips snap into yours quickly, the overstimulation getting to him. he wraps his arms around your stomach, holding you close to him, his head yet again smushed into the crook of your neck. every thrust he gives you feels like it's punching the air out of you, art isn't even pulling all the way out anymore, just humping his hips into you the best he can. even in his delicate headspace, art still wants to please you first, his fingers making their way down your stomach before rubbing messily at your clit, his fingers catching on your nub every few circles, causing you to tighten up around him. art is close, you can always tell by how his voice shifts from more coherent to just straight up blabbering, "mgh.. god.. 's so warm.. you're so warm.." "it feels s' good.. it's feels good to you too right?" "gotta be closer to you.. wan' be closer to you" but you snap to attention when he moans against you, "please be m' girlfriend please.. i wan' you to be mine.." you're sure art has no idea what he's saying until he repeats himself, almost sounding like he's about to cry. you nod quickly, "y-yeah artie okay.. ill be your girlfriend.." now you swear he actually sobs, his hips making one last deep thrust before you feel him fill you up, the sensation sending you over the edge right after him.

art stays inside of you for a minute, dating his breath before pulling out, grabbing a tissue and helping you clean up. when you open your eyes, arts looking up at you with his signature puppy dog eyes. "um.. did you mean what you said?" he asks quietly, his head bowing down quickly, as if he didn't want to see your reaction. you think back to your agreement, sure it was in the heat of the moment, but would it really be such a bad idea to say yes? you pause, and arts head droops even lower, expecting the worst. "art you know ive purposely been keeping this casual.. but i.. i trust you now artie, i do want this to be serious" you reach out for his hand, squeezing it gently. arts face lights up like a kid getting the one present they wanted for christmas as he quickly hugs you. "thank you.. thanks, you won't regret it i swear" you smile, pulling the blankets over the both of you, snuggling into arts chest as you admire the beautiful rays of moonlight streaming into your bedroom.

art is easily entranced by the quick movements of your fingers as you roll a joint, it sounds silly but he's always admired the fact that you didn't buy pre-rolls, preferring to be more independent. you lick the paper to get it to stick shut (and art is grateful you were too focused on that to see the way his eyes widened when you did) and root around your drawer for your lighter, a stupid pink one decorated with hello kitty that you got for your birthday. art couldn't help but find it endearing, the way you were so independent and "too cool" for a real relationship, but you still kept all the things that people gave to you, even if they weren't to your taste. the click of your lighter snapped art out of his observations, the light from the tiny flame illuminating your face in a way that made art want to take a picture, the fluttering flame casting an orange glow onto your skin. the strong smell of the joint caused art to become a little lightheaded even though he hasn’t even taken a hit yet, his fingers grabbing the joint from you after a couple failed tries that make you laugh, the soft giggles a soundtrack for the night.

[mellowmistt]

The Sleepover-Chris Sturniolo (Part 1)

Summary: (corny, basic ahh title I know) You are good friends with the sturniolos and at their house, unabe to catch an uber late at night you are offered to stay the night on the couch, however you could not sleep and someone with the same problem comes to join you..

Warnings: smut;unprotected sex; handjobs; swearing; mentions of alcohol; NO use of y/n!

A/N: I don’t use any degrading kink language with characters (e.g slut) or overusing of words such as baby, bc idk bout you guys but it kinda cringes me out when i see that in other fanfics, okay back to the story :)

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

I took the last sip of my coca cola before saying goodbye to a couple other friends who were leaving.

"For fuck's suck." I say, a little too loud as I could see Chris and Nick abruptly glance in my direction in the corner of my eye.

"Whats up?" Nick asked

"There are no uber's available for another hour, like how is that even possible?" I exclaimed, adding a small smile at the end, I didn't want to bring down the good vibes that everyone had for the past six hours.

"Hey you know you're more than welcome to stay the night, I would have made Matt drive you but you know how much he had to drink tonight, plus he's probably out of it right now."

"No, you don't have to do that anyway, i'll check some other taxi websites theres gotta be one available righ-"

"Hey it's fine, just stay on the couch, its way too late now anyway i wouldn't want you out there alone." Nick explained.

"Okay, thank you so much you guys are the best!" I say, scanning the room to meet eyes with Chris, who was watching our conversation from the kitchen counter as he was clearing away the plastic cups and chip bags.

"Okay, now that's settled i'm going to bed, i'm wiped" Nick says as he grabs his phone from the other side of the couch. Chris followed with a quick "Me too, goodnight" before hurrying down the stairs.

"Theres more blankets in the basket down there if you need, goodnight!" Nick says before trailing up the stairs, turning off the main kitchen light.

About fifteen minutes had gone by, I somehow wasn't even sleepy even though it was nearing three in the morning. Maybe i had too much soda. I grabbed my phone from my bag and began scrolling through tiktok. I figured after a while of scrolling my eyes would get tired.

Suddenly the dim living room light turned on, I flinched as I saw Chris's silhouette approaching the couch. He sat down about a foot to the right of me.

"Can't sleep?" He asked, in a quiet,almost whisper.

"Nope." I reply, switching off my phone and placing it behind my pillow.

We both stared at eachother for a moment, Chris had a curious look on his face, as if he was dying to ask me a question.

"Hey i thought you said you were wiped, like twenty minutes ago." I say, narrowing my eyes teasingly. I knew the smartass reply he would say.

"I never said that actually." He replied, a small grin forming on his face, returning the teasing mannerisms.

"Well you said same when Nick said, and I quote,I'm going to bed, I'm wiped". I said, smiling knowing this would just egg him on for a lame excuse. Mine and Chris's friendship had always been like this, teasing and joking around, he never failed to make me laugh.

"Well, maybe thats just what i wanted him to hear." He replied, staring back at me with a grin, waiting to see my confused reaction.

"What are you doing?" I asked, half serious now.

"I figured you'd be lonely down here by yourself in the dark, so I came to stay with you."

"You're drunk" I state.

"You're sober." He replies, stating the obvious.

"Yeah well remember last week when you were holding my hair back as I was puking in the toilet? I learnt my lesson and thought i'd give myself a break tonight." I replied with a small chuckle.

"mhmmm" He mumbles. "Besides I didn't drink that much myself actually, definitly not as much as Matt." He states,clearly proud of him self and awaiting my approval.

"Wooowww" I tease, indulging into his ego.

He then moves closer to me, and squeezes up close, moving me over and laying next to me, pulling the grey fluffly blanket over us. We look deep into eachother's eyes for a moment again. His eyes were so beautiful, a crystal clear blue, which accomodated to his warm smile. That damn smile. It always triggered a comforting feeling, like i could never feel negative again when i saw it.

He was moving his head closer to mine, I watched his eyes as they were flickering from mine to my lips, which he was slowly approaching. Without warning I felt his soft lips touch mine, and i unexpectedly started to get lost in the moment, and i placed my hand around his head, gently running through his soft hair. I slowly pulled away from his lips.

"Wait what are we doing?" I whispered,coming back to my senses as i realised that maybe he had liked me all along when i have liked him.

"I thought you knew I had a mondo crush on you, I know you have one on me too, I can feel it in your energy whenever we're close." He said quietly, smiling that he had just outed my secret.

I didn't know what to say, I just gazed back into his eyes again, inspecting his playful look. He slowly put his hand on my stomach, which made me let out a gasp.

"See, I make you nervous" He said with a grin, before trailing up to my chest.

"Oh yeah, no i definitly knew" I replied sarastically, smiling at both my joke and the touch of his hands on me.

He let out a soft laugh before trailing his hand down to my waist, meeting the waistband of my shorts.

"Are you okay with this?" He asked, serious look on his face now awaiting my answer.

"Yes" I whispered, kissing his lips again to confirm. He pulled away and smiled, before trailing his hand down to my panties, moving inside of them and meeting my arousal.

"See, I knew you wanted me" He whispered jokingly into my ear as he starting moving his fingers in slow circles around my sweet spot.

I smiled at him, before moving my head back and closing my eyes in relfex to the pleasure he was inducing on me, as he was speeding up. I let out a few deep breaths.

"Ch-chris.." I whispered. "We can't, not...here what... if they hear us" I said, stuttering through deep breaths.

"Shhh, they won’t. They’re both out of it remember?" He whispered back. He stopped moving his fingers, which made me open my eyes.

He moved in to kiss me again, moving his body slightly closer again, alerting me of his hard-on against my thigh. I reached my hands down to the waistband of his shorts. Still kissing, my hands made contact with his shaft, I started moving my hand up and down, slowly speeding up the pace. He drifted away from mouth to let out a deep breath in reaction to the stimulation.

“Fuck” he whispered.

He moved my hand away, which at first confused me, until he started taking off my shorts, and then his own. He repositioned himself until he was hovering on top of me. He started burying himself into my neck, painting it with kisses. Again, I had tilted my head back to indulge in the moment.

“You ready?” He whispered, lifting his head up.

I nodded eagerly, at this point I was desperate, I had never imagined that this is how the night turned out, but this rush of everything was just what I craved for right now. I felt his tip brush against me, and the slow but intense entrance of himself inside of me. We exhaled loudly, though this made me feel conscious that one of his brothers could hear us again, I tried to put that feeling aside for now and just enjoy the moment, enjoy him.

As his thrusts increased in speed it was becoming more hard to stay so quiet. Chris noticed how I was trying so hard to suppress moans, and put one of his hands over my mouth gently. The other hand interlocked my left hand above my head. His deep breaths alone were just setting me off more. His eyes squinting as the climax was nearing. Small, muffled moans left my mouth, thankfully Chris’s hand was suppressing the evidence, I don’t think it was a noticeable enough sound for Matt to hear, even though he was just down the hall in his bedroom.

The thrusts were rapid, I began gently moving my hips along with the alignment of his to amplify the pleasure. This made his breaths become more louder, so I put my free hand over his mouth too. We were now gazing into each other’s eyes, taking in the moment, the euphoric feeling which was shared between us. Our eyes struggling to stay open as we were both so close to finishing. Our palms became sweaty from the exhales. Boom. There it was. That indescribable feeling which illuminated throughout my whole body. Throughout his whole body. As the thrusts slowed down into a halt. We looked deeply into each others eyes again, lay still for a few moments as we uncovered our mouths. Deep breaths still escaped our mouths, but we tried to keep them quiet.

There it was again. That smile.

“I think I might… I think I might love you” he whispered through exhales.

“Shut up” I quietly laughed, still breathless.

He kissed me once more, his soft lips were the cherry on the cake, I never wanted him to let them go off me. He exited me and lay on his back next to me again, his hand in mine.

*ding*…..*ding*

I opened my eyes, the warm sunlight melting through the blinds. I reached for my phone, with two texts from my mom, asking if I wanted to go to lunch with her. The time was 10:48. I looked to my right, and sure enough Chris was lay next to me. It was real. It actually happened? Holy shit.

“Chris?” I whispered.

No answer.

“Chris” I whispered, a little louder and slightly nudging him. This alerted him and he opened his eyes.

“Oh hey sexy” he said, his morning voice was raspy, but also kind of a turn on. Fuck.

“I gotta go, and you should probably go downstairs before Nick or Matt come out here and wonder why you were on the couch with me” I explained. He still had his eyes shut, but he slowly started to shift, so I knew he was listening.

“Mhmm, okay” he mumbled before sitting up.

We both put our shorts back on and he put the blanket back.

“Okay, my mom wants to meet me for lunch so I gotta run, I’ll see you soon”

“Sure thing, we should do that again soon” he said with a smirk, before trailing down the stairs to his bedroom.

[nastyc2nt]

Hanta sero being the biggest fuck boy around, and izuku being sensitive and inexperienced leads to many things

Like izuku begging sero to teach him to fuck you. And trust me he’s writhing. Red faced, maybe teary. He’s so embarrassed. And sero just drinks it up. “Yeah? You want me to teach you to fuck your girl?” Or something slightly condescending.

Of course hanta agrees cause you’re hot. So he’s sitting behind you, against the headboard. While he shows izuku how to make you cum in every way.

First lesson was fingers, second was tongue, third was his dick. And after was toys he lended you both. Fingers started out tricky, but sero was fairly hands on, resulting in four fingers in you rather than two. Izukus personal favourite was the vibrators. Something about being as desperate and pathetic as him, turned him on.

Something about the condescending attitude plus the whiny pathetic behaviour goes crazy. (Side note. If you want it to be even more freaky. Make izuku the fuckboy and bakugo the pathetic one. “I guess you’ll always be second place to me kacchan.’ Or something even more diva-ish.)

🫀

I’m literally going crazy, i wouldn’t have thought of this on my own and i’m so grateful you brought this to my attention—

Sero is a very good choice because he’s so experienced!! Poor Izuku wouldn’t know what to do, he’s never had a girlfriend before!!

She/Her and Born at birth anatomy.

{idk where katsuki came in from, but I literally breath for cocky izuku. Will make a small dabble if you send in something about cocky izuku and katsuki}

{Also saw chubby reader for some reason- BUT EVERYTHINH WORKS}

✦ ──────── ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ──────── ✦

“Don’t just whine,” sero sternly shouted at the green haired man that was too lost in your pussy to think of anything else. Izuku has been trying so hard to learn everything, and has been getting so turned on with how pathetic you looked when you’ve been overstimulated.

“M’sorry,” he opened his eyes and focused on fucking you just right instead of his own needs, he tries to reach deep and use his cock with the tips sero gave him! And he listened to how you like it as well.

Sero rolls his eyes and grabs izukus hand from behind you, his other hand still grabbing your waist and you lean back onto his chest. “Play with her clit like a man! I thought the number one hero could please his girlfriend,” he looks down at you, your eyes half open as you look at your boyfriend. He recalled your defenses against izuku being a bad lover throughout the evening but never once said no, or that what sero did wasn’t right.

You moan and whimper when izuku started to play with your overused clit and started to squirm underneath both their holds, but sero made sure to keep you still. “See? Ain’t that a precious sight,” he hated to admit, if you were to find yourself single — he’d fuck you so good. But he has more respect for izuku then to pull you away from him.

Izuku had enough of the hunger in Seros eyes, he knew it was strange to get jealous when he literally asked for this.

You yelped when izuku pressed your leg up higher and inched his body closer, his legs almost crushing you, “Gonna cum?” Izuku egged on. sero watches him start to pump your guts, and the sound from your lips and pussy is so good it makes him hard. Izuku was rough now to, his hand making a imprint on your leg that he held closer to your head, and his hand still playing with your clit.

Sero smirks, proud of Izuku gaining confidence and fucking like a man. “Damn, fuckin’ her rough? I knew you were like a rabbit.”

¡!Don’t repost my posts on other websites, don’t translate them, theses are for me to publish on my own!!

Taglist: @sparklylanddetective @fvitos

[syd-djarin]

private eyes - jack daniels x private investigator!f!reader (18+ MDNI)

this is for @iamasaddie little lady kinky may challenge! congrats on 2.5k! <333 I was paired with Jack / Voyeurism.

banner by: @cafekitsune

tags: voyeurism (reader watches jack), masturbation (m & f), reader is a private investigator, gratuitous descriptions of my fav cowboy stroking his big cock, dub-con a little? reader masturbates in her car but there isn't anyone around so public but private

a/n: this is the first fic I've completed in months. it's short and to the point, idk how i feel about it but it pushed me out of my writing slump! kinda want to do a part 2 for this, what do y'all think 👀

wc: ~1.6k

smut below the cut

 “I want you to catch that son of a bitch in the act.”

The visibly scorned woman, Camilla, sitting across from you asks through tears, ones that she hasn’t allowed to escape down her cheeks; catching them right at the waterline with an overused tissue.

This isn’t the first time a disgruntled, mistreated, or betrayed lover has sought out your services — no shortage of shitty men leaving trails of destruction while they pillage and greedily chase their own interests. She’s no different, seeking closure from the broken-off engagement from her now ex-fiancée, Jack Daniels. The pair had been together for a year, engaged for three months and one day, out of the blue, Jack broke it off. According to her, he didn’t give a concrete reason, something vague about being consumed with his job and that “she deserved a better life than that”. 

Of course you get paid a pretty penny for your work, but you take great pleasure in catching a man in the act. Whether the woman needs proof for divorce settlements, custody battles, or to just have leverage. Whatever the case may be, you find a gratification you don’t get anywhere else; the upheaval of a man trying to have his cake and eat it too. 

The conventionally attractive woman you couldn’t pick out of a line-up slides her homemade dossier across the coffee shop table, tacky & sticky from previous patrons. You flip through the information presented to you, taking mental notes as you go. You can’t deny the heat that rises up your face as you study the picture of your next target. The deep sable eyes resembling a baby calf’s are staring at you through the glossy photo paper. He’s sporting a mustache reminiscent of Burt Reynolds that is calling your name. His smirk is laced with a charming cockiness. 

“He’s quite the looker, I know. Hell of a lay, too,” her words snap you out of your daydream. Her words feel hollow, his looks are the only attributes she’s mentioned during the duration of the consultation. You're not getting paid for moral judgements and you remind yourself you don’t know the whole story. 

“Which is why I want to know who he’s fucking. I know there’s another woman, or maybe even a guy… he’d answer calls in the middle of the night and step into another room and I swear I could hear a woman’s voice on the other end, he’d tell me he’s going on work trips… he works at a whiskey distillery, why the hell does he need to go on all these trips?” She explains, putting air quotes around ‘trips’ with her dainty, well-manicured hands, “he’d stay late at work a few nights a week, and then it turned into a nightly thing… Anyways, you come highly recommended, so I’m trusting you won’t let me down,” she adds. You’re not a fan of the passive aggressive, back-handed compliment she gives you, but ultimately you give her an understanding smile as you both rise from the table. 

“I’ll be in touch,” you tell her, as you exit. As cliche as that line is, you love saying it every time. 

Days of following Jack around have proven to be fruitless. The man has a simple routine: wakes up at six, traipses to the bathroom to begin his morning regimen of a showering, shaving and grooming his beloved mustache, and to conclude,  adorns his body in his tight denim jeans, a crisp button-down, a cowboy hat, and boots to match. You hate to admit it, and someone would have to waterboard this information out of you, but the hat is doing something for him. 

Or you. 

Whatever. 

He shops weekly on Wednesdays (he always puts the cart back inside the store, not the cart returns in the parking lot), takes the same route home everyday, watches Jeopardy while he eats dinner – you caught on quickly that he cooks during Wheel of Fortune, it appears he isn’t a big fan of Pat and Vanna, dishes promptly following Final Jeopardy and bed by nine. In three weeks Jack hasn’t had a single visitor, of any gender, leaves work at five like everyone else, the man isn’t adding up to be a cheating womanizer like Camilla had set him out to be. Not to say that he isn’t, but you’re not finding any evidence to support that claim. You’ve actually found yourself developing a crush on the man. He’s undoubtedly handsome, seemingly laid back despite his strict routine, and there’s something mysterious that lies beneath that you’re itching to unearth.

You’re parked discreetly across the street from his house. It’s a nice quiet street, with only two lamps to illuminate the surrounding neighborhoods, allowing you to stay shrouded in the night. 

You’re about to call it a night, exhaustion settling deep into your bones, when you notice a lamp turned on in the living room. Fortunately, the window faces the street, making your job that much easier for you. You pick up your binoculars to peer in, adjusting the focus for your prying eyes. Thank the universe he left his blinds open. 

He sits on the couch with his back facing you. It looks like he’s reaching for the remote, like maybe he’s having trouble sleeping, but when he settles back into the couch, you notice he’s butt ass naked, in all his glory. Even through the binoculars, you can see how big his cock is. Your mouth salivates at the sight, wanting to feel the stretch of him in all your holes. 

You’re not supposed to see this. Not at all. Usually in your assignments, you don’t get the full X-rated view, just the PG-13 suggestive one, and you are more than grateful for that. 

But not now.

You’re getting your own private peep show from the man you’re getting paid to spy on. You’re feeling like a grade-A pervert right about now but the sight is too glorious to look away. He spits on his hand, and languidly begins stroking his cock. He runs his other hand through his hair, his toned arms flexing with his movements, his chest heaving. 

It shouldn’t turn you on like it does. For one, it’s highly unprofessional. Secondly, he’s unaware he’s got an audience. Morally speaking, it’s definitely not your shining moment. But it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, watching him tease and work himself up. You couldn’t pry your eyes away if you wanted to. 

Jack’s not the only one getting worked up; your clit throbs so hard you feel like it’ll go numb. Your heartbeat echoes in your ears thump-thump thump-thump. You let out a whine when Jack massages his tip, precum dribbling out like a sweet nectar you’d like to feast on. He continues his slow movements, dragging out his pleasure at a delicious and excruciating pace. Somehow, this makes the whole scene that much hotter; the display of restraint and discipline. You wonder if he does that with his lovers. Teasing, teasing, teasing, giving just enough to drive you insane before slowing almost to a stop. 

Possessed by desire, you haphazardly look for any lingering people outside before unbuttoning your pants to shove your hand to where it's needed most. You gasp at the cool air hitting your thinly clothed pussy, you can smell your own arousal seeped into your panties and it spurs you on further. You mirror Jack’s pace - teasing your lips with a featherlight touch, inching closer and closer to your needy clit, stopping just shy of it, to tease yourself more. It’s agonizing in the best way, taking your time like this. Normally, you like efficiency when making yourself come, rarely going the extra mile to turn the pleasure dial up, but this makes you question why you’re ever in a hurry. 

You reach your clit, going in gentle circles to match Jack’s unhurried pace. You wish you could hear the sounds he’s making, all the grunts and whimpers escaping his plush lips. 

He speeds up his strokes, now ravenous for his delayed release and so are you. Overtaken by the need to come, you drop the binoculars, letting them fall to the floorboard. You’re not even watching him anymore, having seen more than enough to commit to your spank bank. With your eyes closed and head pushing into the headrest, your mind is flooded with images of Jack fucking you slow, hard and deep, absolutely destroying your pussy – legs over his shoulders, hitting the spot that makes you scream and cry in euphoria. The image of him spilling into you, filling you up with his come is what tips you over the edge, your body shivers in bliss and you rock against your hand to ride out the high, feeling faint from the intensity. 

After you’ve recovered and fumbled your chance of ever seeing The Pearly Gates, you dare to look back to his house, to find all the lights back off. It’s a bit of a relief, feeling less shameful of what you’ve done now that you can’t see him at the moment. 

You button your pants backup and lean over to retrieve the forgotten binoculars from the floorboard, as your fingers grab them you hear a knock on the window. The sudden rap on the glass makes you flinch, feeling your skeleton attempt to flee from your corporeal body. Your heart drops to your stomach when you see Jack standing outside your car, leaning one forearm against the body so his face is level with yours. Fuck fuck fuck. You’ve been caught. Dizziness and nausea war within you as you roll down the window. You open your mouth to explain the situation, but words never escape your mouth. 

“You like watchin’ people don’t ya?” he asks, his tone is dark, but not angry. No, it’s something else entirely. 

“I–”

“‘S’alright. Caught onto ya pretty quick. A pretty face like yours ain’t hard to miss.”

“I– i’m sorry, um,” you scramble to find words, any words but Jack interjects again. 

“You like watchin’, but darlin’ I want to know, do ya like bein’ watched?”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Hey, its Ominoose, your all time biggest fan here. Blue time.

You're a patient at the hospital, his favourite, he's always possessive. A new guy joins the staff and tries it with you, either flirting or getting handsy. Blue finds out, gets possessive. Maybe coddles you a bit ?? Idk, just... Blue <3

Orderly!Blue Jones X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? • ko-fi • request info •

A/N: Firstly @ominoose you are far too kind, secondly I'm sorry this took so long, thirdly I’m so sorry Blue is fucking insane in this. 

He’s jealous! He’s whiney! He's a warning in himself!

Warnings: overuse of italics, oral sex (f receiving), p in v sex, cream pie, there's some power dynamics in here because reader is a patient, swearing, also I haven't proof read this correctly because I just can't look at it any longer, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 2079

________________________________

“It’s time to go in.” Timothy’s voice made you jump. He was pretty nice, for an orderly. He’d only started two weeks ago and already he had half of the patients swooning and making heart eyes at him. Just over the fact that he seemed vaguely kind, and not the sort of person that would push someone under a bus for the fun of it. 

“Oh,” you closed your book, lightly bending the corner to mark your page. They didn’t let you have bookmarks in here, ‘weapons’ apparently. Though how you could do more damage than a paper cut was beyond you. 

“Sorry.” You mumble as you get up from your spot under the tree, you hadn’t heard the pips which normally alerted you to the end of outside time. 

Timothy smiles and shakes his head. “It’s okay, no problem, I could see you were absorbed in your book.” His expression is soft, caring. “Is it good?” 

You nod, eyeing him with a little uncertainty. 

“It’s nice to see patients reading, I think it’s really calming, you know?” He smiles again, tilting his head to the side and taking a fraction of a step closer. “I’ll take you in,” he places his hand on your bicep gently, just to guide you towards the door. All the other patients have gone inside already. 

“I see you reading a lot, you must like it huh?” He says good-naturedly.

“There’s not a lot else to do.” You say softly when he looks to you for an answer.

Timothy laughs kindly, “Well, that and getting better I guess?”

“Hmm.” While he seemed harmless enough, you knew from experience that it was always better to err on the side of caution with orderlies, especially new ones. And even more so with ones that seemed friendly. 

He pauses, haunting your movements with the hand on your arm. “You know, you should smile a bit.” 

Ah. There it was.

You frown.

“I mean,” he blushes a little and runs his free hand through his hair. “Not like that, do what you want, of course. I just heard that smiling releases happy chemicals you know? Makes you feel happy even if you’re just doing the expression.”

Oh.

You look at him carefully, scrutinising for any malice and find none. You smile a little and nod. Maybe he’s-

“McCarthy!” Blue bellows from across the courtyard, his voice snapping against you like a whip. 

Timothy visually jumps at the sound of his last name, turning quickly, but not letting go of your arm. Blue marches over. His eyes seem brighter than usual, gleaming with a mad, impulsive energy that rolls off him in waves.

Timothy audibly gulps as Blue stops in front of him. 

Blue smiles, all teeth like a chimp bearing a warning. “What are you doing?” He says calmly.

“I, I was just taking them inside.”

Blue doesn’t even look at you. “Why?” 

“It’s, erm, it’s time to go in?” He shifts a little nervously. 

Blue leans a fraction closer, dropping his voice dangerously low. “Is it?”

Timothy gulps and nods, wide-eyed. 

“Take your fucking hand off their arm.” He growls.

Timothy lets go of you as if he’s been burnt, stepping back, holding his hands up in apology. 

Blue clenches his jaw, his shoulders pulled back and begins to stalk forward, closing the gap and removing the slither of space Timothy tried to place between them. 

“Blue,” you whisper, low and soft, as you brush against his forearm with your little finger. 

His attention snaps to you instantly, the tension leaking out of his expression. 

“It’s okay.” You nod at him, keeping your voice that same gentle quiet tone. 

He grabs hold of your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles before looking back to Timothy and giving him a glare that could have easily stripped flesh from bone. “Get back to your post.”

Timothy didn’t have to be told twice. 

He scampered back, rushing through the door and not even giving either of you a glance over his shoulder. 

You squeeze Blue’s hand back. “You’re not going to have any more new staff if you keep terrifying them like that.” 

He doesn’t listen to you, his muscles tense as he lightly traces the place where Timothy’s hand had been. “Why was he touching you?” 

“He was taking me back inside.” 

“And you let him?” He glances up at you with dangerous eyes.

You nod. In your heart of hearts you know he understands why you couldn’t refuse.

His grip on your arm tightens ever so slightly. “Why?” 

“Would you rather I had, and been put in solitary?” 

His expression softens again and he shakes his head ever so slightly. “He wouldn’t have dared.” He whispers, so quiet you can barely make out the words.

Suddenly he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer and pulling up the sleeve of your t-shirt so he can get to your skin. 

You yelp in surprise as he bites your arm, sinking his teeth into the spot where Timothy's hand had rested moments previously, before he soothes the spot with his tongue. Instantly you flinch back, but he holds you firm as he sucks a hasty love bite into your skin. 

His chin is a mess with salvia when he pulls back, his fingers digging into you. 

You barely get a chance to open your mouth, to intake a quick gulp of air before he’s yanking you towards him, snaking his hand to the back of your neck and forcing his mouth onto yours.

Despite the frenzied heat, the kisses are soft, careful as he slides his tongue into your mouth and presses his body flush against yours. He whimpers a little as you kiss him back, nipping a little at your bottom lip and pressing his warm palm against your lower back so that you have nowhere to escape to as he grinds his half-hard cock between your legs. 

It takes him a moment longer than you thought it would for him to stop, pull back a fraction, breathing hard. For a second you think he’s remembered himself, remembered that you’re both in the middle of the grounds with the asylum's large windows looking down on both of you. But the glazed look in his eyes tells you that he doesn’t care. 

“Don’t want him to touch you,” he mutters, tracing his fingers along your jawline. 

“I know Blue.” You say soothingly. 

“Don’t want anyone to touch you.” He kisses you again, three light, quick pecks to your lips. “Other people… they’re not careful. They don’t understand how to take care… they break things.” He shakes his head. “They’re not allowed to break my things.” 

You lean a little closer, closing your eyes and rubbing your nose against his. “I know Blue.” 

His kiss is harder this time, his fingers a touch too firm as he squeezes your jaw and holds you in place. 

You don’t mind though, don’t care as you feel his fingers twitch, his grip relaxing as you lick into his mouth. 

He pulls back a fraction, his warm breath hitting your cheeks. “Need to make you cum.” He mutters into your mouth, not giving you even a second to respond before he turns and marches back, further away from the asylum doors and pulling you along with him. 

“Blue!” Your book slips out of your hands and you practically have to jog as he yanks on your arm, moving with a frenzied energy to the large, old oak tree you were sat underneath moments before. 

He pulls you around so that you’re hidden from the asylum’s windows and pushes you up against the bark. 

“My book-”

“I’ll get it in a sec’ baby,” he murmurs, his voice almost slurred as he gazes over your body, taking every detail in before he drops to his knees. 

“I don’t think-”

“You don’t have to think.” He bites softly at your hip as he hurriedly pulls down your trousers and panties, yanking them off your right leg and not bothering to completely remove them from your left. “Just be good.” He mutters, his mouth thick with salvia. His fingers dig into your skin as he grabs hold of your right thigh and hoists it over his shoulder. Not even pausing before his mouth is on you. 

Your breath leaves your lips as a whine as he licks, broad, fat swipes of his tongue through your folds and up to circle and tease your clit. 

“Blue,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his shoulders so support as he repeats the action over and over again, digging his fingers into your thighs and urging you to buck into his face. 

He moans against you as you say his name, swirling an extra circle around your clit before he’s dragging his tongue back down and up again. Groaning as he completely devours you. 

The wet sounds are practically obscene, even without your building cries that you are trying your hardest to muffle, it would be obvious what the two of you were doing to anyone in the vague vicinity. But you quickly lost any residual thought of caring the second his mouth was on you. 

He pushes you harder against the tree, practically forcing you onto tiptoes as your right leg squeezes against his back and pulls him closer. 

He rakes his teeth over your bundle of nerves, chuckling at your little sharp intake of breath before he sucks on your clit like a man possessed. 

You moan loudly, throwing your head back against the tree bark as your legs shake and nerve endings are flayed raw with pleasure. He keeps sucking, grinding his face against you as he pulls your orgasm from your body, giving you little say in the matter. 

Your vision whites out for a second as your back arches, your fingers digging into and bruising his skin.

You barely have a moment to recover, the aftershock still running along your limbs as he pulls your leg from his shoulder and moves back. You nearly stumble for a second, weak without his support, but then his hands are around your thighs and spreading you wide as he pushes inside. 

He groans as you gasp in surprise, grinning at the way your eyebrows pinch together. He doesn’t give you a moment to adjust, just presses until he is completely sheathed, his length splitting you wide open. 

“Fuccck…” he moans and bucks shallowly, once, twice, before really starting to move. Setting a brutal, frantic pace that has you holding onto him for dear life as sparks of pleasure coil and glide out from your core. 

“You take me so good baby, so good for me,” he kisses you hard, nuzzling into your cheek and neck as he pounds into you in a frenzy. 

It’s like he has you memorised, every spot to make you scream, and cry, and beg for more, as he hits deliciously deep, angling his hips just so that you see stars with every thrust. 

“Blue,” you moan into his mouth, feel him grin at how wrecked you sound. “I’m-”

He changes the tempo ever so slightly and you practically scream for him. 

“That good, huh baby? Need my cock that much, hmm?” 

You nod, unable to form words. 

“Only my cock, yeah? Only me. No one else, no one else is gonna take care of you like this, no one else is gonna make this pussy feel so good, no one else is allowed.” He growls. 

You gasp, pleasure building to a dizzying high. “Please, gonna cum, please.”

He whines, biting his lip, his voice softening despite the sudden increase of his thrusts. “Oh baby please, please, I need it. Please cum on my cock, please. Need you to cum, need you to feel good, let me make you cum,” thrust, “please,” thrust, “ just me,” thrust, “ just me,” thrust, “no one else.” 

“Just you.” You manage to stammer out as bliss overtakes every thought, washing over you in waves and rippling across your very soul. 

Blue lets out a strangled cry as you cum, your walls squeezing him so tightly, urging him deeper and pulling his own orgasm from his bones. He buries his face into your neck and bites down, his saliva socking into your t-shirt as he muffles his moans. 

He stays close as you both recover, littering your face with kisses until you're giggling, and playfully trying to push his face away. 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

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[jals-stuff]

Hihi! First of all I LOVE your writing and thank you for feeding us hungry Orter fans with your work (I have been STRAVING for his fic) so if you don't mind, I have a little request! So I imagine in a what if Orter has a crush on someone (aka us and ofc we gotta like the sandman back) who's always on a dangerous mission due to how strong they are who is ALSO his partner time to time and one day, they just went into a coma from overusing their magic. MAYBE when they woke up, the two will confess to each other or?? Idk I will let you cook 🧑‍🍳

(Sorry if my wording is a little confusing!)

good day/evening anon! your wording is just fine no worries

first of all, thank you SO much, this brightened my day by a lot, you have absolutely no clue what kind of serotonin torrent you have unleashed. I am glad at least some people like my writings, that's why I'm doing it.

I don't think this is 100% close to what you described, but I hope you'll like it regardless-

Should be gn!reader if I didn't mess it up...

warnings: SLIGHT SPOILIES, bit dark, mentions of death, bit of despair... not proofread I am so sorry.

word count: 2.8k

note: I apologise for any dumb mistakes because I physically cannot proofread myself at 6am but if I don't post it now I won't do it ever. please don't hate me anon

What if...

As much as he hates to admit it (to himself, of course), Orter had grown a little bit too fond of you. The way you greet him whenever you come back from a mission, or the way you always make sure to respect the rules and act logically while also protecting everyone around you when the two of you would go on missions together. 

The way you whine when your legs are tired after walking long distances, the way you always bring him a little something to eat when you know it’s going to be a long trip. You’ve always been good to everyone, much opposed to the cold man; but it wasn’t the only difference between the two of you.

Everyone has their own logic and, as much as you respected your own, his was quite different. While you wanted to take every single possibility into consideration, he preferred not to overload his mind with useless statistics and just think of a solution when the time comes.

However, a lot of things aren’t affected by logic, such as feelings, and how could the dense sandman guess that you were absolutely enamoured with him? These were variables he would’ve never imagined, even though he was painfully into you as well. 

Of course, he was your top priority, and protecting him from harm even though he was a rather powerful mage was of the utmost importance. He should’ve known that when the two of you recklessly charged into enemy territory in an attempt to weaken the devil’s quintuplets before they would be on the move.

Orter was a man of many things, but “what if''s were not part of his usual reasoning, and that was the biggest mistake of his life. However he only realised it too late when you had to break your own limits to make sure he’d go back safely. It was time to retreat, but the two of you had been completely cornered. 

Having a dormant god inside of your wand had many benefits, but Psyche was not an entity to be trifled with. The Soul Goddess would, each time you requested even a fraction of her power, take a huge toll on your stamina and sanity, and this time it was more than critical.

You were already exhausted from using so much of your mana, and now you were completely surrounded by Innocent Zero's sons. Unleashing your Psyche Inclination and ordering all of the quintuplets to sleep immediately surpassed your own boundaries.

You knew what would happen if you pushed beyond your limits with your personal magic, but it was completely worth it. After all, what was the point of living anymore if the only person you loved was dead? 

All of them were immensely powerful, and neutralising such strong enemies was not a meagre task. As soon as the last one fell to the ground in blissful slumber, you felt something rupture inside of you; like a used rope that suddenly lets go, your breath hitched and you collapsed to the floor. 

It was all pitch black, and your consciousness kept you company just long enough to let you hear Orter’s panicked voice calling out for you. Yet somehow, despite the fact that you were falling into the pitch-black abyss, you felt relieved that he, above everything and everyone, was safe.

But anything beyond the confines of your darkened mind was unknown to you and despite your multiple attempts to open your eyes and wake up, everything went silent.

“No, no no…”

Had you been awake, you would’ve been astonished at how Orter had never been that distressed before, at least not in front of you. The loss of his dear friend Alex Elliot had taught him a painful lesson not to get attached to anyone and to simply stick to the rules, but he had let himself fall for you, and now he was experiencing the trauma once more.

“Please, no… not them…” 

Not only were you unconscious, you had done this to yourself for his sake. He was aware of that fact; had you not decided to literally put yourself through such an ordeal, the two of you would be dead already.

But unlike his deceased junior, your heart was still beating and there was still time to save you. He had never run so fast in his entire life, carrying you carefully in his arms to bring you back to the Bureau’s infirmary, laying you down as gently as he could as the nurses rushed to assess your state.

You weren’t hurt, so to say, but the abusive usage of your personal magic had plunged you into a coma, and it was unsure if you would ever wake up from it. 

It looked like you were peacefully asleep, maybe dreaming of a better place you would possibly join soon; unmoving and slowly breathing, as if nothing had happened. Orter knew you could possibly open your eyes anytime, and it kept him distracted every time he would fill his paperwork or go on a mission.

Whenever he had free time, he would rush to the infirmary to check on you, make sure you’re still breathing, or even talk to you. It could help you come back to your senses, or so the nurses said, and as ridiculous as he felt when he talked to your inert body, he would’ve done anything in his power to bring you back, as slim as the chances were.

But then it suddenly hit him. What could he possibly tell you if you ever woke up? He would for sure apologise, but other than that? How could he face you after you had quite literally sacrificed yourself for him? He wasn’t even sure he could look into your eyes again.

Did you resent him for this?

Would you forgive his recklessness?

Would you give him this warm smile he had gotten so used to?

And would it be time for him to finally admit his feelings? You were right here, in front of him, yet you weren’t there. He missed you so dearly, the sound of your voice, the shit eating grin you’d give him whenever he was wrong and you were right, the way you’d laugh at his disgruntled expression afterwards…

All of these interactions he thought annoyed him were now severely missed and he would’ve given anything to even just see the colour of your eyes one more time. 

And see he didn’t, for what seemed to be an eternity. Everyday, when he’d come to visit you, a small part of him hoped your eyes would be open and you’d greet him the way you always did, but every time, he was met with your inanimate form, comfortably laid in the infirmary bed. 

His hope of hearing your voice ever again gradually vanished with every one-sided conversation he had with your unconscious figure, swallowing down his emotions with every word he said. He was slowly accepting the fact that you might just never open your eyes again.

The more this thought settled into his mind, the more desperate he grew, and suddenly, his usual mindset faded away and his brain filled with “what if”s. 

What if he had taken some time to listen to your suggestions, what if he had thought of a plan B like you always had? What if he had ever told you about his feelings, what if you loved him back? What if you didn't? What if you never woke up?

Dread took over on his other emotions and suddenly, it wasn’t hope that drove him to visit you everyday; it was despair. What if you never opened your eyes again? How could he ever live with your presence replaced by this horrifying feeling of guilt for letting you die in his place? 

You were surely powerful enough that you could’ve ran away on your own, and left him behind if needed; it would’ve been the logical, reasonable thing to do. But the heart has its reasons which reason knows nothing of. Of course, he should’ve known that you would never leave him behind, but precisely because it was completely illogical, it never occurred to him that you would willingly let yourself be hurt if he had a chance to make it out alive.

Now he was sitting at your bedside and kept hoping you’d wake up, just open your eyes and talk to him, greet him and say everything was going to be fine, just the way it was before… it seemed like he hadn’t heard your voice in an eternity, and it was weighing on him the whole time. Like a burden he would have to carry forever if you didn’t wake up from this coma you had put yourself into for his own sake.

His eyes never left your figure as he spoke to you kindly, as if you were still awake. Of course, occasional visitors would look at him like he was a lunatic, talking to someone who was obviously not here to answer, but it didn’t matter to him anymore.

Orter was ready to abandon his image for your sake, sometimes even skipping work and breaking his own principles so he could hold your hand for another minute before going on yet another perilous mission. 

The thought of you dying peacefully in your sleep haunted his mind every single day, and his sorrow was great enough that, more than once, he did consider exhausting himself enough so he would be defenceless enough for an enemy to just take him out of his misery.

For weeks, months, his mind was plagued with the thought of you leaving him forever, of not being able to tell you about these feelings he thought were completely unnecessary. Shame and rejection didn’t even matter to him anymore and he just longed for the day you’d wake up and even just look at him. 

He was on a mission, the day he heard that one of your fingers had merely twitched. Breaking protocol was far from his usual behaviour, but he needed to see you. That is how he accidentally drowned an entire area in sand, catching both enemies and harmless monsters in his Antlion’s Nest. 

The rules didn’t matter to him anymore, it was a physical need to see if you were okay and to maybe, just maybe hear your voice. 

However, he walked in on something completely different. Many of the other Divine Visionaries were gathered around you in religious silence, observing you. He had to push through the crowd and his heart stopped for a second when he saw you. 

You were sitting up in your bed, slightly confused as to why everyone was staring like this. For you, mere seconds had passed but in reality it had been literal months. As your eyes travelled amongst the crowd, you saw Orter, who was also staring at you in utter disbelief. 

The infirmary was completely silent, and no one was moving, as if time had suddenly stopped. Ryoh threw a glance at the others and they just silently left. Now it was just you and Orter, looking at each other in both confusion and shock. He stumbled towards the chair that was resting near your bed and he slowly took a seat.

“Well… you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Upon hearing your voice, he let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. It was like all of his burdens were suddenly lifted off his shoulders and his head and arms simply collapsed against the mattress, much to your confusion. You raised your hand to reach for his hair and upon seeing how your nails had grown so much, you realised something probably happened.

“It’s been months! I thought you’d never wake up! I thought I wouldn’t hear your voice ever again. Why on Earth would you do such a thing? No, no... it was all my fault. I'm sorry, (Y/N), I'm so, so sorry.” 

He sounded angry, but he really wasn’t. You started connecting the dots and it took you a bit of time to understand that you had been unconscious for the past few months, worrying the poor sandman to death, though right now it didn’t matter at all. 

“I’m glad you’re alive, Orter.”

Although you had been unconscious for literal months, seeing the Desert Cane unharmed was such a huge relief for you. However, not everything was swell inside his mind. He still felt extremely guilty that you nearly died for him, and nothing could possibly pay back this humongous debt he thought he owed you. 

But seeing his relieved expression when he looked at you was enough of a payback. He had watched you wither away for months and now you were finally back to the world of the living, eyes focused on him and him only. 

You tried to stand up but as soon as your arms attempted to lift your form, they gave out and you started losing balance. Orter immediately stood up from his chair to catch you, wrapping his arms around your now weak body to support you, but even after you were back to your spot, he wouldn’t let go. He simply sat on your bed next to you, not letting go. 

Almost out of instinct, you rested your head on his shoulder and let out a long sigh, your arms raising up slightly.

“Please, just rest, you must be really exhausted.”

But his words just didn’t reach you, you needed this. After a while and a lot of effort, you managed to rest these weak arms of yours against his shoulders, on the sides of his neck, and he fell silent. You had no strength at all but he could feel you use all of your willpower to embrace him, and you also seemed like you wouldn’t let go.

He seemed fine with it as he slightly nuzzled your neck and closed his eyes, finally relaxing a little after this emotional rollercoaster. It felt so comfortable to finally be in his arms after such a long time spent longing for him, as if you were finally where you belonged. 

“I missed you.” Orter said quietly, close to your ear. His arms tightened around and you would've probably cried hadn't you been so exhausted. Your words were stuck in your throat and you could only nod and hum softly, your voice cutting inside your throat. 

His arms tightened around you further, holding you into a comforting hug, one of his hands gently going through your hair and keeping your head close to him. You exhaled again, wanting nothing more than to keep holding him. 

“Just don't let go. Please.”

Your voice was muffled by his embrace but you were close enough to his ear for him to understand your words, and you could've sworn you heard his breath hitch for a second as his arms tightened even harder around you.

“I won't.” He sighs into your neck, comfortably seated on the side of your bed, and you wanted nothing more than to lay back down and have him hold you, but you were still in the infirmary and it would've been very problematic to be seen like this.

“I won't, ever. I can't.” He held you even closer now, like he was trying to merge with you, your chest and his pressed against each other as if to share your heartbeats.

Although you had never seen Orter being this close with anyone before, it all felt very natural. Just like the way his hand slid from your hair to your cheek, like the way he moved away from you slowly, his usually cold gaze now soft and filled with something you weren't quite used to.

Just like the way he couldn't take it any longer and gave in to the physical urge to softly press his lips to yours. You didn't pull away, of course; the moment too precious to let surprise ruin it. 

You returned the kiss, your eyes now closed to take in the pleasant, wholesome warmth his embrace brought to you, after you'd been so cold for literal months. 

As nothing lasts forever, your lips and his slowly separated, but his eyes were now on yours again. 

“I won't let you fall again, (Y/N), I promise.”

You couldn't help but give a soft chuckle and his expression turned slightly puzzled. Of course, you two didn't share the same braincells.

“I've already fallen too hard.” You breathed out.

His eyes widened for a second before he regained his composure and brushed a few hairs away from your face to place them behind your ear.

“Then I guess we’re both down now.” he finally admitted, his expression just a little softer and his lips almost curved into a smile. 

You were suddenly thankful for Orter holding you so close, lest your heart would've jumped out of your chest. 

“I love you, just… in case it wasn't clear enough.” He awkwardly added, and you thought it was just adorable. Another chuckle escaped you with a nod.

“I know. I love you too.”

He hummed softly and sighed deeply in relief. 

That was one “what if” finally satisfied, and probably the first of a long list.

[bringthekaos]

Listen

I know that "doomed by the narrative" has been so overused that is now a meme but honestly? How terrifying, how sad, that the moment you see them both together you already know how it's going to end. The final step of their journey is already written, it has been for kver a decade now. When Viktor saves Jayce's life, when he encourages him to pursue his dreams, and Jayce looks back at him with nothing but pure awe, and yet you, the audience know that they will end up hurting each other so badly, that everything will go up in flames, that they are destined to hate

The narrative is already set. We are just here for the journey.

🙃

Ughhhhhhh I guess my only hope is that they can maybe change it a little? Or maybe get through the really contentious divorce era, they go at each other’s throats all season, and come out at the end with… not reconciliation, I think that’s too much to hope for, but… mutual understanding? Like… they can’t be lovers friends again, they’ll never be close like they were, but maybe there’s a respect there? A lot of the League lore suggests that Jayce is very remorseful over what happened, and would leap at the opportunity to make amends. I always go back to the interaction in Jayce’s LoR story. He was just so ready to end the fight between them. And Arcane has certainly softened the image of Jayce (I know that’s so that he can be hardened by his life experiences, but… the writers have a daunting task ahead of turning this sweet, non-confrontational person into a stuck-up asshole), so my hope is that they lean on that softer image and maybe get to a point where he and Viktor can coexist semi-peacefully? And this is totally not at all spurred by my need to have something to work with fanfic-wise 🫣

Really as long as they’re both alive at the end of the season, I’m good. I will smush them together regardless. My one fear is that Viktor falls victim to the old “redemption by death” trope. The Kylo Renification, if you will.

Redemption by death is such a cheap cop-out, and I am so fucking sick of it. If you’re going to redeem a “villain,” don’t be lazy. Leave them alive to make amends, let them face the consequences and work through them. It can be done. Zuko from Avatar. The Digimon Emperor from Digimon. (don’t judge me, I am a Olde™). Loki.

Idk, I’m just keeping my fingers crossed that they tweak the JayVik narrative doom a little.🤞

[1-800-writersblock]

shinsou hitoshi with a golden retriever gf 🙏🏽 also i lob u s much 😞

Book Title: Shinso x Golden Retriever!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Book Format: headcanons

Summary: see request!

Prompt Used: none

Content Warnings: shinso is barely in this but I needed to get something out, you/your mainly used to reference reader, fem!reader, I gave reader an honestly pretty neat quirk, not canon compliant, I turned a couple points in the show into things for Shinso and reader instead of Izuku and whoever else, Shinso’s leg is hurt for a bit, reader has parents that support her but they’re barely talked about

Author’s Notes: huhuhuu I lob u too🥹 why’d u have to move SAUR FAR for stupid college😒 n e way, FIRST OFFICIAL FIC-ADJACENT THING ON THE NEW ACCOUNT WOOHOO‼️ Brought to you by none other than my totally legit wife irl. This is probably (definitely) gonna suck, especially since I’ve never written for Shinso but eh whatever. I’ll probably have to make a part 2 at some point because as far as I’ve gotten, he’s kinda barely in it BUT ENJOY IT ANYWAY

I’ll be so fr rn, most of what I know about Shinso is very fanon🧍

but that’s totally fine

still love mah boy

anyway, if anyone knows anything about me then they know grumpy x sunshine and any adjacent tropes is one of my favorites

Shinso and his golden retriever gf are the prime example of this

BRO IMAGINE A MIDAS TOUCH TYPE QUIRK

Like if you activate your quirk and touch someone with your hands, they basically freeze in time instantly and turn to gold. Then if you touch them a second time with your quirk activated they unfreeze. A drawback could be like if you start to overuse your quirk, your fingertips turn to gold and the longer you overuse the farther up your arms the good freezes you then you have to wait for it to creep back down.

So I like to think that you two met during the entrance exam, but not the fighting part, the written part

(We’re switching the order of the tests for plot purposes)

It was just after the written part had finished and the two of you were sat down next to each other

Lets say you didn’t do the best and kept turning your pencil to gold for a bit by accident, so you barely even managed to finish

So you’re grumbling to yourself as yall are all sitting there waiting for the tests to be collected and yall to be dismissed

He probably didn’t think it was that hard, so you grumbling is making him raise an eyebrow

He hears you muttering about your “stupid quirk” and he feels the need to ask you what you mean🤭😏

So you explain to him what went on and he decides to try and ease your worries a bit.

“This isn’t the biggest part of the test, so… don’t stress out over it too much. It’s the physical test you’ve got to worry about. From what you say about your quirk, you’re bound to get in.”

This gets a lil smile out of you so you thank him and introduce yourself. He pretends to reluctantly give you his name, not wanting to seem too eager or smt idk

You basically talk his ear off the whole time yall are waiting to be dismissed and he just sits there and like. listens to every word

not even consciously, he just genuinely takes in every word you say

yapper (future) gf 🤝 listener (future) bf

Finally yall are dismissed and as you walk away, you turn back to him and give him a smile that he swears would’ve burned his corneas had yall been in the sun.

“Good luck on the physical exam, Shinso! I better see you in UA when I make it, too!”

He would take this to his GRAVE but his heart fluttered a bit

He nodded and gave an awkward and small smile back, wishing you luck quietly too before you practically skip off

Speaking of skip, jumping to the physical exam

You’re assigned to the same training ground as Shinso, and when you spot him in the waiting group you immediately get to his side and start yappin as per usual

”Oh my gosh! Shinso, you’re in this group too? That’s so cool! Maybe I’ll get to see your quirk in use! I hope my quirk doesn’t end up hurting someone somehow-” yappayappayappa

It’s finally time for yall to start and you don’t get to see him during the test

You’re doing pretty good, getting the bots into spots that they’ll tip over and break once you turn them to gold, but it’s nothing compared to some people

You start to get a bit nervous as you run around and find everyone else fighting bots but none are left for you to take down

That’s when the 0 point robot is released

Its insanely huge, and everyone else starts running away from it

You start to as well but that’s when you see Shinso hurt and in the robot’s way

At this point, you’ve already done enough at once to get your fingers gold up to the second knuckle so they can barely bend

You can’t just sit there and watch as he’s crushed by the robot so of course like the hero you’re going to be, you run forward and start to try and get one of his arms over your shoulder - which is a LOT harder than you might think it is without full articulation of your fingers

of course he’s over here like ⁉️⁉️⁉️ confused as to why you’re choosing to save him instead of just getting yourself to safety

Still, he takes the help and stands as best as he can on one leg with most of his weight on your shoulder

You help him get away as fast as the two of you can but the robot is faster

However, just before the robot gets too close to the two of you, the signal for the end of the test sounds and the robot freezes in place

Perfect timing too, because immediately after, the two of you don’t have enough strength to keep yourselves upright and you two fall side by side

Skip forward a little more again, probably a couple weeks later

You feel like you didn’t get enough points in the practical exam to get into UA, so when the letter finally comes to tell you whether or not you got in, you don’t have high hopes

you take out the small gadget, setting in on the living room table as you sit on the couch with your parents anxiously watching behind you

That’s when you’re surprised to see ALL MIGHT of all people announcing your rejection or acceptation

He tells you that your writing scores were just enough to pass that part of the exam, but you didn’t quite get enough points from bringing down robots to pass

Your heart and head drop as he tells you that and your parents start to console you, until he continues

“You may not have gotten quite enough points to pass the exam based on defeating robots. However-”

Your head shoots back up at that

“defeating robots wasn’t the only thing the judges were looking for. Rescue points were also involved.” The clip switches from All Might’s ever-smiling face to a recording from the exam ground. It shows everyone else start to run away, but zooms in on you running back to save Shinso. “This feat of bravery and pure heroism was enough to boost your scores up to passing, and exceeds many others who chose to ignore everyone else while defeating the robots.”

You start to get emotional as he continues once more.

“Congratulations, dear student. You are officially accepted into UA and will join other students in Class 1-A, the hero course! Go beyond Plus Ultra!”

As the hologram ends, the three of you sit in stunned silence before excitement overtakes you all and you celebrate your acceptance.

Your mind starts to drift towards Shinso. You barely saw him during the test, so you don’t even know how many points he got You really hope you get to see him in UA…

Skipping forward again, it’s the first day of the school year and you stand outside the door to your classroom

it already sounds like chaos as you walk in, but you see a lot of very impressive looking students in your class

One has motors in his legs, one has several arms, one is very very pink, etc

But you’re slightly disappointed as you look around and fail to see Shinso among the students. You feel a sinking feeling in your stomach, worried that he might not have gotten into UA at all.

But that feeling is squashed after the first few classes of the day are over, and it’s time for lunch!

When you walk in to the lunchroom talking to the very pink student — Mina, you’ve learned — you spot a messy head of purple hair sitting a table of students but looking disinterested

You tell Mina you’ll see her later as you make your way over to Shinso, smiling happily as you greet him…

Librarian’s Footnote: IT TOLD ME I RAN OUT OF SPACE FOR TEXT IN THE BLOCK??? It wouldn’t let me save my draft so I have to cut this short until I can figure this stuff out :( I’ll make a part two eventually! I’m sorry he’s barely in this 😭

[writing-whump]

Hola👋🏻 I was wondering that can you write a fic that Hex calls Isiah in the middle of the night to say "can u come get me?"

I knoooow that Hex would rather die to say that such a thing at first hand but well, Arnie was quite shaken since the accident and Hex wouldn't want him to worry him again🤷🏻‍♀️ i'm sure you find a better reason for this but maybe he was hurt pretty bad over a pack fight, or saving someone from his pack or sth. Hex would normally handle this quite well, but what about the other group is outnumbered and Hex's shadow is a bit weaker than normal when it comes to healing since he overused it recently?

Idk if this idea making any sense but I'm excited with the idea that Hector has to call Isiah for help, especially for himself awww🤭🤭

This is an absolutely excellent idea and I had been obsessed with it since I saw it! Thank you so much!!

Big brother for help

Hector forced his eyes open. He couldn't remember when he closed them.

Everything was blurry and spinning, the ground coming in and out of focus...the ground? Why was he on the ground?

He lifted himself up on shaky hands. Did he pass out? It couldn't have been long, because nobody found him. There were shouts coming up a few streets down, the Stark wolves following him, but if he had really really passed out, they would have found him already.

And finish what they started.

There was blood running down his arms and neck all over his shirt. The smell should have been enough - would have been enough for older wolf too - but the Stark wolves were just pups. Teenagers.

It was enough to go upwind and hide behind the buildings to block the smell and their tracking.

He tugged the jacket tighter around himself. Throwing it over the wounds haphazardly helped keep him off radar, but the bite wounds under him that marred his arms and torso were bleeding all over. The sticky feeling of blood clogging up on his skin made him shudder.

Another bad thing was that his sense of smell was shot, the iron scent of his own blood too strong in his nose. Or maybe his nose was bleeding too or it had blood on it from him swiping his bleeding hands over his face. Who knew.

This was starting to be a bit of a problem though.

Hector tried to stand and found that his legs were too shaky - there were bite marks under his pants too, but not strong enough to pierce the cloth, just to claw up the skin underneath.

His vision blurred out again and he spat onto the sidewalk. Yep, his spit was bloody too. Just his luck.

Maybe he was bleeding internally too, because when he pulled at his shadow, it was his stomach it focused on instead of the giant open wounds seeping blood all over him. His middle felt heavy too, like it was bloating up, growing in proportions. There were sloshing sounds now when he tried to move, like his belly was filled with liquid.

Not the kind of liquid it could digest.

But who was he supposed to call? There was a problem with the Stark wolves, he was the strongest wolf in his branch. If he couldn't handle it, there was hardly anyone else who could. Who should.

He crawled down the sidewalk, shivering. There was a wet red trail behind him. It felt like he was leaving parts of him behind as he moved.

There was one person he could call. Someone strong enough to help, someone who could handle this and who would actually be willing to do so. Only one.

Hector didn't want to call him.

It was lame and stupid, to call someone from another pack to get involved with his business. And it was terrible specifically for Hector as the branch leader that he couldn't keep order in his own territory.

He also didn't want him in particular anywhere near, when he was losing.

Hector was not going to be the kind of person who called his big brother anytime he couldn't handle something.

The noises came closer again as Hector shuffled on his hands and knees behind a corner, breathing hard. He felt sick, tasting iron on his tongue and he felt weaker by the minute.

Maybe this really wasn't the right hill to die on.

He leaned back against wall and pulled out his phone out of his pocket. With shaky fingers dripping blood, he found Isaiah's number.

Couldn't he just message him?

Then again, it was two in the morning. If Isaiah wasn't awake, he would see this way too late.

Hector swallowed back the blood and saliva gathering in his throat and hit the call icon.

...

Isaiah came to his location quickly and quietly as a shadow, long black coat flying behind him dramatically.

At the sight of Hector he didn't yell. It was all very professional. He just narrowed his eyes and let his shadow cover the street.

He wasn't hiding his location or power. No, he was announcing himself.

No, even more, Hector realized, he was chasing them out from the streets onto the main square. Gathering up all the wolves that attacked Hector.

They ran rather quickly, trying not to look behind them at the large shadow filling the streets like a flood of pitch.

"Stark pack. How wonderful," Isaiah murmured, passing Hector without a glance, like he wasn't seriously injured. "If I may, boys, what exactly are you doing on the Wolfson territory in the middle of the night?"

Hector didn't reveal himself to them, but he had a good angle to watch from across the square.

The wolves in question were young, barely out of teenagehood. Which meant strong shadows and powerful energetic bodies with very little sense or experience. They posed a threat, capable of going against untrained elders.

One of the older wolves who might have fancied himself the position of the leader of the group said boldly: "We were taking a claim on a piece of the territory. We have a right to make ours bigger by taking from others...sir."

Isaiah looked around like he was considering it. His voice was entirely smooth and unmoved, like this wasn't something that upset or surprised him, but there was a stern edge of power to it. "Yes, that is a valid reason. It just makes me wonder why you think this should be done secretly at night. Without the patrols standing guard, because they trust the alliance with the Stark pack."

The oldest boy had the decency to look down while the others visibly cringed.

"I'm also assuming you don't know who you were facing either."

Hector supposed that was good for him though. His reputation might have helped, but this loss would hurt it a lot.

"You want to lead an assault? Take a bite from the quarter? Go ahead. Use strategy. Attack your peers. Fight one-on-one to see who will win. This kind of group attack against one, how far you were willing to go...what exactly do you think would happen tomorrow? No information who you are fighting is sheer irresponsibility. If this was one of the higher ups of the Wolfsons, you would have the rest of the pack on your case tomorrow. You could have started a war if the injuries were lethal."

Hector scoffed under his breath. He wouldn't die because of a bunch of barely grown pups attacked him. Okay, maybe they weren't that much younger from him and there was more than six of them and he underestimated the numbers a little...

"It's entirely natural and understanble for pups your age to lead attacks and missions," Isaiah continued, purposefully insulting the young men by calling them pups. "But what exactly do you think it proves to gang up on a wolf like that? It certainly doesn't prove your strength. Or any sense of honour or good will. Or manners. Or skill or knowledge of etiquette."

That had all the boys bowing their heads in shame.

"Anyone can be defeated by numbers. That doesn't make you strong as individuals. And it doesn't make for a very good image for your pack, when its pups think they don't need to respect rules or order, when it can overwhelm with numbers alone. You know why we don't do it that way?"

There was a beat of silence, as none of the boys dared to speak up anymore.

"Because someone will always have more people than you. It would turn into chaos. No skill, no purpose, no morals. Like a bunch of animals." Isaiah curled his lip in disdain. "Actually, real wolves act with more sense than you."

Another heavy silence followed while Isaiah's shadow pulled closer around him like a giant black lake in the middle of the square. It was a frightening sight.

The boys kept their heads down, their shadows pulled back like tails between their legs. The first one might really had the most brains, cause he went down on one knee, bowing in apology. The others followed suit a heartbeat later.

"You will go back home and tell your elders what happened," Isaiah commanded, "and you will accept any punishment they give you or you can be sure I'll hand it to you myself."

It took a bit more of Isaiah's shadow threateningly waving from one side to the next until the kids got the clue they were dismissed.

Hector slumped more against the wall, closing his eyes until he felt Isaiah coming closer to him.

Isaiah didn't crouch down and didn't offer any sympathy. His face was stone cold, and his eyes burned with criticism that would have Hector recoiling from him, if he had the energy. "And you."

"Me what?"

"What exactly were you thinking? Alone, without backup plans, with a compromised shadow?" Isaiah's shadow didn't go down yet either, curling around angrily. It sort of surrounded them both like enormous bat wings hauled over the ground.

"They were just kids. I simply didn't expect them to be so many." The report talked about a trio. And Hector went alone because he had been MIA for the last week since the accident and wanted to make up for the lost hours. As much good as that did.

"Or you were simply arrogant. Going out so soon after the incident, when your shadow isn't ready to heal you so fast yet. This is why you take at least two wolves with you, out of sight if needed. And you certainly don't go around risking yourself as the branch leader. Do you even realize the responsibility you have for the whole pack? What would happen to them if they found you dead in the Danube in the morning?!"

Hector head ached. "Geez, chill out. I wouldn't die."

"Oh yeah, you look so okay to me. I told you, you are pushing yourself too much with too little help-"

"Christ, fine," Hector growled. "I don't need a lecture. Sorry I disturbed your fucking sleep. Thanks for the help. Night."

Did Isaiah really have to make such a big deal out of a little bit of bite injuries and blood? Hector was counting on him being calm and helpful in that kind, subdued manner he had been with him lately. If he expected half of this coldness, he wouldn't have dared to call.

Except maybe this wasn't coldness. This wasn't distance. It was something else Hector wasn't used to.

"Yeah, sure, you dumbass. I'm just gonna leave you to bleed out on the fucking street. That's what I'm here for." Isaiah finally bend down, throwing Hector's arm around his neck unceremoniously and lifting them both up.

Hector bit back a groan, head spinning immediately at the movement. He felt something slimy climb up his throat, but managed to swallow it back down.

Isaiah was uncharacteristically rough as he dragged him over the empty night street to his car. He also stayed silent, glaring in front of himself while his shadow swirled around them like a protective orb.

Isaiah opened the door on the backseat, tossing Hector inside with a little growl.

Hector should have been very curious and maybe alarmed by the display of anger. The last time Isaiah acted like this, they were still back home. Isaiah as Executioner getting coldly angry and disdainful...usually in reaction to various troubles, provocations and insults that Hector threw at his way to get his attention.

Except his head was buzzing too much and he was making quite the heroic effort in swallowing down hot vomit tasting a lot like blood. He pressed his lips tightly together as another wave of nausea rolled through him.

His arms twitched a little to the direction of his bloated stomach, but the pain that sparked at various places on his arms had him abounding the effort quickly.

Isaiah glared at him, before tugging at the sleeves of his jacket and pulling it off without warning.

"Oww. Be careful, would you?" Hector hissed in pain as the cloth pressed into his wounds, curling into himself. The sticky blood coming down with the fabric felt like it was tearing at his skin.

He had three bite wounds on his right arm and two on his left. They came from shadows when they assumed very wolf like forms during assault moves. They were deep, ragged and open, all the way in his flesh. Not bleeding as strongly anymore, the blood clotting obediently after the first sweep of his shadow. The wounds refused to close though.

Isaiah scowled as he inspected them without touching. "I'll bind them to stop the bleeding. Concentrate on them with your shadow as much as you can. They will get infected if you leave these open for long."

Then he looked down at Hector's pants, seeping a bit of wetness at the places of the bites.

"'eve them," Hector waved him off. "Not that deep." Certainly hurt a lot less.

"Anything else?"

Hector wondered how he should explain the pooling heaviness in his stomach. Was he making it up or was that some kind of real problem? Like internal bleeding?

The blond reached for his shadow, letting it decide where to concentrate, what to heal. It did indeed choose his torso as its focus, needling around at something deep inside that has his skin crawling. He let out a pained gasp, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain lessened, though the heavy feeling did not.

His shadow receded at that, like an elastic cord snapping shut. He couldn't hold it stretched for longer.

He slumped back in the seat, panting from the exhaustion and from the shameful prickles left in the wake of Isaiah's disapproving green eyes.

Hector must have dozed off. Only the sharp sting of pain had his eyes shooting open.

Isaiah was wrapping his left arm in bandages. Quite tightly. "Hold still," he commanded in the same voice he used on the enemy wolves.

Hector squirmed, the pain worsening the hot sticky feeling at the back of his tongue. "Isaiah-"

"Shut up and keep still for once. I need to finish this last one-"

"Isaiah- for real-" Hector leaned forward, his own body feeling like a weight that dragged him down. "Get- o-out of the way-"

It was all he managed before the burning liquid went up his throat and shot out his mouth.

Isaiah jumped away on instinct, in time for Hector to vomit blood into the gap between the open car door and the sidewalk. Hector lurched forward painfully, almost involuntary movement as another wave went up.

Dark red droplets sprayed over the sidewalk and on the road beneath it. The smell and taste had Hector retching again, almost falling forward and out, wasn't it for Isaiah gripping his shoulder.

Hector burped up another mouthful of the bloody puke, coughing to clear his throat. He sagged forward, caught by Isaiah's hands as his older brother propped him back up against the seat.

Hector's body have a whole-bodied shudder. But his stomach felt lighter, better somehow. The nausea went down considerably, though now he could feel the burning on his arms more strongly.

He balled his hands into fists at his sides, moaning.

Isaiah sighed into his ear, carding a hand through Hector's sweaty hair. It was the kindest touch he gave him all evening.

Hector felt something unraveling inside him at the sensation, sniffling. He was drowning in various kinds of liquids today.

"Hey, you are going to be okay. Your shadow will come back in a few hours and the injuries will get better quickly. It's all over now," Isaiah said quietly, regaining some of his usual softness.

Hector felt stress tears from the pain slipping down his cheek, wondering if he was dirty and bloody enough for it not to be noticeable. "That's not how it usually looks like. I can handle a fucking handful-"

"I know." Isaiah sat down on the edge of the seat beside Hector, wrapping an arm around his back. "It's not because you are weak. It's the strong ones that get hurt the most. You stand at the front, you bear all the risk, you face all the odds."

Hector sniffled again, but he couldn’t help leaning into Isaiah's side.

"I'm sorry," Isaiah said, shifting so Hector could lie against his shoulder more comfortably. "I get frustrated when I see how- when I see you get hurt for something that could have been prevented."

Hector shut his eyes, his tired mind figuring why Isaiah didn't feel distant. The older wolf was very much present.

"I wouldn't have called if I could help it just a little," Hector said in a small voice.

Isaiah ran his hands through Hector's hair again, scratching against his scalp. "No. I meant, you should call me sooner than this happens. Take me with you. I deal with packs all the time, why couldn't I help you? Before you get all torn up and bloody, preferably."

Hector snorted. "You wanna come have some fun next time? I won't leave you much to do though."

Isaiah's voice had a sparkle in it as he said: "We'll see who will get them first."

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N = I've been on a really weird music kick - for me, anyway. Stuff like Otis Redding, Etta James, Solomon Burke, Bill Withers. And originally, I had Sanemi as the leading man. This goes along with For The Record a little bit in that the music is similar. I may keep trying to work on these damn things until I feel like I've gotten it right. Maybe I'll start a small collection or something where these older songs inspire me to write. Idk. Funny blip, I actually typed out 'Nemi at one part instead of 'Nami. Could you imagine? Living with both men, fucking Nanami and you say 'Nemi or the other way around. Sanemi and say 'Nami. They're so close. It's the perfect threesome. Hmm.

C/W = Sex. Overused italics. Spanking with panties. Nothing too horrific. But ... MDNI.

Sir 'Nami

You stood at the kitchen sink, mindlessly preparing the green beans you were going to cook with dinner. Your favorite mix, the one Nanami made for you, was playing over the inlaid speakers in the ceiling as you swung your hips from side-to-side to Misty Blue.

Nanami had good taste in everything; Clothes, music, cars, houses, investments. Right down to his toothpaste.

You were about halfway through the bag of beans when the garage door opened.

He was home at 5:19, just like he always was. Unless he had to put in some overtime.

He pulled into the driveway, ready to park the car away for the weekend, gathered up his briefcase and anything else he'd need and came in through the door to the side entryway.

You never cease to amaze him.

At first it was day after day, then weeks turned to months and months turned to years. Tonight is your 5 year anniversary and you still look at him with that same warm, sweet smile when he comes in and kicks off his work shoes for his house slippers.

He looks forward to it every evening. And he's elated every evening when he sees you standing there to greet him.

You act like newlyweds whenever you're together. In public places or in the privacy of your own home. Always kissing on the other, holding waists and hands, interlocking arms as the pair of you cross the street.

"Smells good, swee'heart." Nanami says as he stands behind you and joins you in the swaying. Turn Me On now playing softly through the air.

"Thank you, 'Nami. I missed you today, y'know that?" You said, turning around to face him.

He leaned down and put his head in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath in. "I'll never get over how lucky I am to have landed you, y'know that?" His arms wrapped around your aproned body; one around your waist, the other on your butt.

You pulled your head to the side and looked at him quizzically. "How you ... landed me?"

He kept his face in your neck, not bothered by the weird look you gave him. He didn't want to have to defend his choices to the woman he loved with all of his heart.

"Hmmm mhmm." He hummed. "You just have to accept it, darling. I'm the lucky one here."

Your arms made their way to rest around his neck, the two of you still swaying together. 'Crazy' by Patsy Cline, filling your ears as you stood with your husband in your custom-built home that he gave to you on your wedding night.

"I have to accept it, huh?" You said playfully as you nudged his face with your nose to rest against yours. "Well, you are the man of the house. Whatever you say goes, I s'pose."

"I may be the man of the house, but you're queen of the castle."

He untied the apron strings from where they sat at your belly and hung it carefully in the pantry. A place for everything and everything in its place, he'd always say.

"Whoo! 'Nami!" He scooped you up in his arms and carried you bridal-style to your king size bed. Laying you down so gently like you'd break any other way he released you from his hold.

"It's Friday, my love." He said just as calmly as he'd say anything else. "We have the whole weekend to do whatever we want." He kissed between the knuckles on your hands, looking up at you as his lips brushed your soft skin there.

You played dumb. "I - no, it's Thursday, 'Nami. You're losing your mind. Come, let me show you the calendar."

He pulled you back down as you tried to stand from the bed.

"Mm-mm. I know it's Friday. I have been living for this day since Sunday. Now," he began to nuzzle into your chest and kiss your collarbone, "what sort of trouble can we get ourselves into this weekend?"

He had the dress pulled down off of your shoulder by now. Licking little circles into your exposed skin before he kisses it all away and starts over.

"We could ..." he continued as his hand slid from your knee to your thigh so lightly it gave you goosebumps, "go to dinner?"

You scooted back a little on the bed, "'Nami, I almost have dinner ready to cook."

"That's right, that's right, darling, forgive my thoughtlessness." His fingers were squeezing the fattest part of your thigh now, his kisses trailed down further toward your breasts.

"Mm," you said, breathing a little harder now. "I - I don't know, honey. I mmm ... I might have to punish you for your foolishness." Your fingers found their way into his belt buckle and you started to toy around with it.

"'Nami, do it ... do the thing you do." Your face got a devilish little look on it as you tilted your chin and looked up at him.

Nanami stood and undid his belt with his right hand and ripped it from around his waist. How hard he already was became more evident as the seconds passed.

Now on your knees in front of him. "Please, sir, please give me your belt." You begged. You were ready for anything, even if it meant being submissive to your husband.

"I can do that, my love, but I think I have a better idea." He pulled his belt back up to his pants and tucked it into the pocket.

"You wanna know what I want to do to you, sweetheart?" He was pulling at the button on his pants now.

"Yes, sir. Tell me."

"I want to lay you down on your back," he said as he did just that. "I want to take my belt and tie your wrists together. And I want to take your pretty panties off and spank you with them."

Your mouth was open in anticipation. "Sir, please."

He pulled the panties from your waist and rolled them up to the top of his fist. "Don't worry, my love. I'll be gentle at first."

He tied your wrists together with his belt and then pulled the panties out from his fist.

"Are you ready, my darling?" He asked.

You nodded your head in agreement.

He brought the panties down on your backside with a loud crack.

"Oh! Sir, please. Again."

He spanked you again, harder this time.

"Mmhm, yes. Again, please."

He hit you again and again and again. Each time you would beg for him to do it harder.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with each slap.

He stopped after a while and flipped you onto your back. Your pussy was throbbing, begging for his touch.

He leaned down and kissed your lips softly, his hands tracing your body. He trailed his tongue down to your chest, leaving a wet trail in his wake.

His fingers found their way to your clit, circling around it gently before slipping a finger inside your folds.

"’Nami, fuck me." You said, trying not to sound as desperate as you were feeling.

He pulled his pants off and threw them to the floor.

His cock was rock solid.

He grabbed your panties from the bed and rubbed the head of his dick with them before tossing them to the side.

He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside you.

"Ohhhh, yes’sir." You moaned as you felt his cock fill you up.

He started thrusting in and out of you, slow and steady at first.

You could feel yourself getting wetter with every thrust.

"Ohhh, sir, please fuck me harder." You begged.

He picked up the pace and started fucking you faster.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes. 'Nami oh my fucking god ..."

He grabbed your tits in his hands and started kneading them, his cock still pounding away at you.

You were so close to cumming, you could feel it building up inside you.

"Sir, m’gonna cum. Please ...?"

"Go ahead, baby. Cum for me." He said as he fucked you even harder.

You came with a loud moan, your whole body shaking.

Nanami came right after you, his dick twitching as he filled you up.

He collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing heavily.

"Fuck, 'Nami." You said as you looked at him with a smile. "That was incredible."

"Yeah," he said as he kissed your cheek. "It really was. Thank you for letting me have my way with you, baby." He chuckled.

You both lay there for a while, enjoying the warmth of each other's bodies.

After a while, you got up and started to get dressed. You had dinner to cook, after all.

As you walked to the kitchen, you couldn't help but think about how lucky you were to have a man like Nanami in your life. He was everything you could ever hope for. 

[justaweasel]

Obey me headcanons but a crossover with MLP????

(Also to make up for the angst I posted a few days ago)

I've been rewatching, again, and I feel like there are some things I didn't cover for some reason, but whatever

There are like many species across equestria and Lord Diavolo would love meeting all of them, just so see how they rule and such

In a certain episode, ember (leader of dragons) and thorax (new leader of changelings) talk about the issues they have with ruling, can you imagine how much Dia would've loved to give them both advice and just air out his issues too? I just love that thought

Mammon being all ballsy and fucking around with dragons only to be bullied by the equivalent of a dragon teenager is something I CANT get out of my head

Beel bonding with the changelings cause they're bug brothers<33

In an episode, the main six ruin the "grand galloping gala", which is a really big thing, and they're like "well I hope princess Celestia isn't mad at us" and Princess Celestia comes and is like "That was the best thing ever!!!" And they're like, "That gala was horrible though" and she's like "Oh Twilight, the gala is horrible every year!! I invited you guys because I thought you could spice things up, and you did!" And if that doesn't give off Diavolo energy, I don't know what does

I've also seen people ponifying the characters, AND I LOVE THAT??

Here's my take on what type of pony everyone would be (just what screams out to me)

Lord Diavolo would be an alicorn a thousand percent, hair wavy-ness and all

Barbatos is a unicorn, specifically with a curved horn and the tail with the tuft of fur at the end (no idea what it's called)

Lucifer would be an alicorn too but he'd have a broken horn (kinda like Tempest from the movie), but he'd use a prosthetic to make it look normal and it basically is at this point, but if you want to save the alicorn thing, he'd be a unicorn that can make a set of wings for himself

Mammon is a pegasus (maybe a batpony, maybe a griffon but that's pushing it), definitely hides in the clouds when Lucifer is chasing him and likes to make it rain on his non Pegasus brothers

Levi is a unicorn that can transform into a merpony, he's his own Henry 2.0

Satan is a unicorn as well but often times his horn is charred at the end because he overuses his magic in anger, also has the tail tuft type of tail (or a kirin if we're crossing species)

Asmo is another unicorn, his horn is curved (something he is a bit insecure about), his hooves, snout, and horn all fade to like a light shade of pink (perhaaaps a changeling cause, idk, that's cool)

Beel is an earthpony, he's like BUFF, Big Macintosh typa buff, the day he learns to buck tress for fruit is the day there will be absolutely no more fruit, he also has a white underbelly that comes all the way to his snout

Belphie is an earthpony, and has the same white underbelly Beel has, is also the tail tufty typa guy

Solomon definitely is a unicorn, during big spells his hair does the Flowy thing too, his horn is curved and is white tipped, as well as his hooves

Simeon is a Pegasus, he's not the strongest flier though, he also does the wing hug thing with Luke

Luke is also a Pegasus and can't fly all too well, kinda like Scootalo but he can get himself off the ground for an extended period of time

Raphael is an unicorn, but he might as well be a Pegasus with how much he uses the magic wing spell

Mephisto is a unicorn with that curved horn, his hooves fade to black because he's cool like that

Thirteen is an earthpony , this, in no way, impedes her from making big complex traps

Satan would stab other people with his horn, full on head butting people for fun, it was all fun and games until he head butted Lucifer and Lucifer couldn't fly straight for a bit (he's sorry not sorry)

Diavolo also has more of an earthpony physique while Barbatos and Lucifer have the princess body type, not fully Celestia but Luna/Cadence

Beel has often been compared to a Parasprite because of their endless appetites

(Relating to the one above) Satan once accidentally shot a spell at Beel, and Beel coughed up a tiny version of himself, all the brothers proceeded to have a panic attack

Anyway, that's it!!!!

[eatabubble]

Scaredy cat

Reader x Finney Blake

Summary: Finney has a little crush on you and has for awhile but doesn’t want to ask you out because he’s nervous. However Gwen calls it something else, making him want to do something about it.

Disclaimer ?: overuse of words like ‘finally’ and ‘so’ and maybe too many commas x . x

A/n It’s been a long time since I’ve written on here but I was bored so here we are. Pretty sure the fandom is mildly dead but idk sorry y’all. I hope you like it and I do take requests, if anyone wants those, I’ll try my best. This isn’t written well I know so I’m sorry but hopefully you give it a chance 🙏🏽

Word count: 723 (pretty sure)

Gwen knew almost immediately. Her brother couldn’t even look your way without a rosy pink dusting over his features. In fact, according to her anyone who couldn’t see his interest in you, must be blind. So, as any nice sister would do (according to her, again) she decides it’s a good idea to push and tease her brother until he finally asks you out.

—

During lunch, Gwen again catches Finney dozing off in your direction, she finds an opportunity.

“Finneyyyy” as she drags out his name he suddenly turns back to his food tray and with a monotone voice says “no” “I’m not going to ask her out” and Gwen suddenly turns to look at him pleadingly. “Oh come on Finney, you know you want to!” Finney rolls his eyes “plus, you know she might feel the same way about you, I’ve caught her looking at you a couple times, she’s also really nice to you, surely that means something” she adds.

“No, that barely says anything about how she feels about me, and if I do have a chance I don’t want to weird her out like that” Finney knows you most likely, wouldn’t ever find anyone weird, but like most, his insecurities blur his confidence in walking up to you. In doubt that you’ll end up finding him weird.

Finally, Gwen gives up, bored with the same lame excuse, but not without a final push. “Fine, you little scaredy cat” she goes back to finish drinking her small carton of orange juice and forgets the conversation.

However, for Finney he seems to have mixed feelings about what his sister called him. Obviously it’s normal behavior from his sister towards him but he starts to wonder that if anything his sister said was true, and you do like him somehow and your just waiting for him to make a move, would you also consider him a “scaredy cat.” So, he wonders and wonders, then finally comes up with a conclusion/ solution.

——

It’s the last bell of the day and Finney has worked to push away his doubts during his last classes, then finally by telling himself to stop being scared he’s all in with his plan.

Finney finds you rather quick waiting for your bus and he approaches you finding the opportunity to ask what he’s been anticipating and anxious about.

You quickly catch him walking up to you from the corner of your eye and turn to face him as he gets closer, and with a small smile and wave, you greet him.

“Finney, Hi!”

He returns and kindly accepts your greeting with his own shy one “Hey”

And so he figures he didn’t really come up with a plan to do this so you two are just standing there for a good few seconds. He realizes he’s backing down, but you start small talk and he appreciates it, as it gives him some time to recollect himself enough to finally ask you out.

“Do you wanna hangout some time?” And as casual and upfront as he said it, he felt like he was about to die. He didn’t lead up to the question and instead just interrupted you in the middle of your sentence.

Taken aback you take some time to fully comprehend what he just asked, and of course Finney takes it as a bad thing and instantly wants to leave to spare him the embarrassment of your rejection. You finally register what he asked you and you feel like your about to explode. You never made it super obvious but you did like Finney and have for about a little over a year. So you obviously say “Really? Ok! Yes, I’d like to hangout” and you also quickly add “When, Where, what time?”

Finney is shocked and surprised, he didn’t expect such a positive outcome, and he doesn’t really have all the answers but he knows they’ll come soon and so he just gives you his house phone number and asks if you can call him later, that way you guys can decide on a solid answer together.

——

Gwen peeps from the side of a pillar she was hiding behind and although she can’t hear anything she knows what’s going on as she sees everything play out.

And just like that, Gwen’s match making works like a charm.