#observer and scrap ask

[kakashihasibs]

I am so glad emergency vets are a thing

[septimus-heap]

Smth abt the concept of marcia having been like 6000 times more visibly autistic before the whole. Supreme custodian/double assassination thing. Hm. <3

[aliosne]

Shitty Aunt Lore #8583: her name has become a verb for someone throwing out a necessary item without asking

[ddarker-dreams]

delving into bf blade and stellaron hunter reader's relationship dynamics ...

blade's yearning for you is nearly debilitating. you are a virus that consumes his every waking thought; pushing him toward madness, or steering him away. this extraordinary influence is unwelcome. he tried purging himself of this condition, only to learn his misery amplifies when he's without you for too long.

he can't pinpoint exactly when you unwittingly became the center of his universe. while prolonged silence was his thing, it very much wasn't yours. you'd make observations or quips in the misguided hope he'd return the sentiment. he rarely did. rather than taking the hint, you persisted in your endeavors. when it became clear you weren't giving up anytime soon, he'd occasionally humor you.

the way you visibly lit up when he graced you with a sentence or two... he'd be lying if he said he disliked it.

upon returning from his jobs, he just so happened to linger in areas you frequented. when you made an appearance, the subsequent interactions made him feel content. you had this way of temporarily dispelling his maelstrom of negative thoughts. miraculously, this included his mara. the affliction quieted down so he could hear your musings unimpeded.

the nature of your assignments necessitated long periods of rest. this free time had you looking for ways to keep yourself entertained. befriending blade started as a side project, or, as silver wolf described it, a 'side quest that became the main plot.' this realization was a hard pill to swallow. you were convinced he tolerated you out of necessity.

budding attachment is a frightening thing. at such an early stage, the slightest error can seal its premature death. this raised the stakes. what was meant to be a pastime now held tangible weight, enough to crush you. your brilliant solution? immediate distance. not to make the heart grow fonder, but to sabotage the soil altogether.

blade reacted in a totally normal manner (he didn't). the fervor behind his confrontation almost had you fearing for your life — the look in his eyes was that of a madman. he wasn't about to let this nonsense carry on unchallenged. getting diced into smithereens was far more pleasant than enduring the cold shoulder from you. warm that shoulder up. please. he's desperate.

it's an intense relationship. he'd offer up everything for any scraps you deign to give him. he's your lover, your guard dog, a beast held back by fraying ropes. blade would quite literally do anything you asked. the satisfaction he experiences when you look his way, affection gleaming in your eyes; he'd ruin himself for more.

[quimichi]

Day 1 of asking Kinich with a reader that's quiet/calm 24/7

✎ KINICH WITH A CALM AND QUIET S/O ᝰ.

a/n: since you asked 2-3 times, here you go <3

Kinich is the perfect compliment to your calm demeanor. He's the moon, you're the stars

He's constantly at your side, quietly keeping you company. He follows you like a well-trained puppy, desperate for scraps of your attention. As Ajaw would put it.

Every day he prays that you do not tire of him, that you will continue to look at him with love. He loves being your boyfriend, and he would do anything to keep you in his life. He would give you the world on a sliver platter. Kinich is constantly watching you while you go about your day — studying the motions, the subtle curves of your expression, the things you do when you are not paying attention to yourself.

He notices you as you do your hair in the morning, or your eyes fluttering as you watch clouds pass. He watches you bite your lip, run your hands over the pages of a book, chew on a pen in the middle of writing a letter.

Every little, unconscious gesture you make is observed by Kinich. Every tick, every mannerism, every movement. You are calm, in control; a quiet pillar in the raging storm. In Kinich's eyes, you are perfect. He can't help but to admire you, to study the way you maintain your cool, no matter the situation.

Whenever you remain composed even in the face of difficulty, he feels a sense of awe. Your ability to stay collected even when the world is falling apart feels like a secret, a blessing only for your eyes.

And obviously he admires how calm you can be with Ajaw. Mind you, he slapped him all over Natlan just to shut him tf up, but Ajaws bestie Y/n would never.

[angelic--kitty]

𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖟𝖊𝖉 𝖕𝖑𝖆𝖞𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌

𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖌𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘!𝖒𝖆𝖛𝖚𝖎𝖐𝖆

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, goddess!mavuika x sub!fem reader, worship, size difference, power play, fingering, thigh riding, cunnilingus, enchanted strap, penetration, womb tattoos, breeding kink, corruption kink, "little one" and "sweet girl" as petnames

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗

"little one," she calls to you so sweetly, chin resting on her palm as she admires you at her feet.

dolled up in the finest of silks, you kneel so pliant for her, such a cute expression, all doe-eyed and desperate to please.

the silks themselves hardly concealed your body from her, putting you perfectly on display for her eyes only. her most favorite worshipper. so dutiful and eager, melting in her grasp despite your clear power imbalance.

perhaps it was the trust and respect you placed into her. or, perhaps it was your unbridled human lust that kept you trapped in her dexterous clutches.

she extends her larger hand out to you, helping you to rise to your feet and climb up onto her lap. she loves having you in her lap, so warm and soft as she holds your waist with one hand, leaning back to observe you.

your nipples perk up through the translucent silks, a tantalizing display as she beckons you closer. "i have a surprise for you, sweet girl." she muses, watching your eyes light up.

"what is it, my goddess?" you ask curiously. she grins, almost wickedly, as she moves you back a bit onto her thigh.

"oh, let's not get ahead of ourselves now. you're not nearly ready for the surprise quite yet." she can almost hear your petulant whine, though she notes you hold it in. you've learned whining won't get you what you want.

rather, it would end with your ass being sore and having to limp around for the next few days.

she gently slides her larger hand up your thigh, covering the expanse of skin easily as she lifts your pathetic excuse for coverings out of the way.

mavuika eyes your cunt with interest, smirking as she pulls you with her free hand to rest your core on her thigh. it makes you squeak from surprise, the sudden contact eliciting a shudder from your body.

your wetness is apparent as it smears on her defined thigh, cupping your head in an attempt to lovingly caress your face. "that's it, go on, i won't do all of the work for you. i can't be letting you get too spoiled now, can i?"

she smacks your ass gently as you yelp, hurrying to move your hips in messy little circles, uncoordinated grinding as you make a mess of her skin.

her fingers seek out the edges of the silks on your body, easily tearing them away. "but-"

"hush." she silences you, tossing the scraps away. "i may just have you remain naked at all times for me now. i much prefer you completely on display." she grabs at your exposed body, cupping your breasts, pinching your nipples, pulling you in for a kiss.

she drinks up the moans and drool that spills from your lips, feeling how you struggle to handle her larger tongue on yours while you fuck yourself on her thigh.

before you can cum, though, you stop. so obedient, aren't you? with those sweet little eyes looking up to her, begging her for approval.

alas...

"not yet. there is much i would like to do with you still. your stamina isn't quite at the level of mine. though," she moves the silks covering her own cunt away, displaying herself for you. "perhaps you should get started on pleasing me?"

it wasn't a question, though you answer her enthusiastically. "yes, my goddess." you lift from her body, ignoring the cool air on your soaked pussy as you hurry to kneel between her spread thighs.

she grabs your head with one hand, pulling you in towards her, shoving your mouth against her. "that's it, good girl." she sighs, extending into a grunt as you lap at her clit.

her hips grind against your tongue, using you as little more than a toy for her pleasure while your own thighs stay spread, not daring to touch yourself.

you've learned better than to do that.

"for such a small mouth, you are so talented." she laughs to herself, enjoying your pathetic little whimpers vibrating against her.

your hands take purchase on her thighs, and she allows it. only for her most favorite little plaything would she allow you to touch her so intimately. there was something about you, she simply couldn't deny the pull she felt. giving you privileges and treating you to mind-blowing pleasure was simply...right.

she rides out her orgasm, watching it coat your cheeks, lips, and chin as you pant, looking up at her for praise.

her hand leaves your head, pushing her hair back and out of her face. "someone... deserves a reward." she gently tugs you up like you weigh nothing to her, your back to her chest as her hand cups your cunt. "so messy." she tsks, but you both know she fucking loves it.

her finger slides into you easily, but even from just one digit, it's a slight stretch. you arch up, mewling when she slides another finger in.

the noises they make are obscene as she pushes them in and out, curling upwards to find your g-spot. you were already so close to the edge before, the sensations becoming utterly overwhelming, more so as her thumb found your clit.

"goddess- can't- please-!" you wail, head falling back against her shoulder as she smiles, leaning down.

"you can take it. you will take it." she promises, nuzzling against your cheek as she fucks you right through your orgasm, delighting in how you soak her hand.

she pushes you into overstimulation, holding you down when you squirm. "no more?" she asks teasingly, indulging in your breathy whines and nodding.

as much as she enjoys seeing you tremble, she gently eases her fingers out of you, showing you the mess you've made.

her free hand grips your chin, making you watch as she sucks her fingers clean. you know what's coming next, opening your own mouth for her to lay them on your tongue as you lap at your own residual taste.

"such a sweet girl..." she smiles, thumb brushing your cheek before she pulls away. "are you ready for your surprise?"

it's a blinding flash, causing you to turn away before you see it attached to her hips. some sort of phallic toy... you've never seen her use something like this before.

"what is it?" you ask, hesitant yet undeniably interested.

"something i'm planning to use on you, little one. but, this one is very special. i've imbued some of my own abilities into this material, allowing me to feel as though it was my own flesh and blood. is that not exhilarating?"

she can hear you exhale a little shaky breath as you nod. "it... looks big." you say softly.

"you'll be just fine, i'll be gentle, little one." she kisses the top of your head, pulling you to kneel over her tip, facing her as she holds your hips steady.

you can feel it pressing against your entrance, much bigger than you usually take. while it frightens you, it is absolutely thrilling to entertain the filthy idea of her ensuring you take all of her. to completely ruin and break you.

she allows the tip to tease you, parting your folds and circling your hips over it for you. "relax, sweet girl. i won't hurt you." she mumbles into your hair.

ever the loving woman despite being the goddess of war, she treated you like a porcelain doll until she was sure you were ready.

as she sinks you down on the strap, she groans, fingers digging into your hips, surely leaving bruises as her hips jump up, pushing deeper, pulling a cry from your lips.

you go limp and twitchy in her grasp, mind going blank as she sinks you further onto her cock. "big....so...full." she can hear you mumble to her, hands grabbing at her biceps.

she grunts when you squeeze around her, your clit nestled to her pelvis as you shake against her body. you feel entirely full, a noticeable bulge present in your lower tummy, her hand running over it.

she can feel everything, and it makes her question why she hadn't tried this before. her head tips back, easing your body up and down her cock.

she bounces you up and down, enjoying your little squeals, the way you try to match her rhythm. even when she's fucking you dumb, you're still so eager to please her. to make her proud.

and, of course, she allows it, letting go to instead rub at your sensitive clit while you bounce on her lap, panting and moaning. "goddess- so- good-!" you squeak, grinding your hips down against her pelvis.

she grabs handfuls of your ass, smacking the fat before running her hands up your sides. "i can tell you're enjoying yourself from how you're squeezing around me." her hand lightly wraps around your throat, thumb rubbing against your neck. "such a good girl for me."

once you grow tired, she takes over again, fucking you through another orgasm, but refusing to stop after that. you cry for her, clawing at her shoulders while she rubs into your g-spot.

she mumbles about filling you up, something that enters your brain and leaves your ears in scattered pieces from how good you feel.

she sends you over the edge one last time as you feebly cry out before she shoves herself deeper, filling you with something warm.

the warmth spreads, burning hot onto your lower abdomen as a reddish mark appears on your skin. it's elegant, much like her, yet you don't have the energy to admire it as you flop lazily against her.

sweat drips down your body much like the cum spilling out of you, sliding down her strap and creating a thick mess. she kisses your cheek, already knowing the concerns filling the back of your mind.

"it's sterile, little one. i promise." and despite your already lax state, she both feels and sees you visibly let go of the tension in your body, a soft sigh leaving your lips. "rest now. you've done well. perhaps this is something i should use more often for my sweet girl, hm?"

[mooishbeam]

『♡』 Rises the Moon

♡ featuring: dan heng IL x f!reader

♡ summary: you help dan heng work through his heat cycle wc: 3.1k+

♡ cw/tw: canon-divergent, breeding, praise, kinda sad but wholesome, monster-fucking, heat cycle, blowjob, cunnilingus, mentions of blood, biting

notes: super canon divergent ik vidyadhara can't have kids but ahhh dan heng breed brainrot :P ruahh I need that lc

Cracked from a shimmering pearl into the cold deception of a ship no longer home, that damned his ill-fated legacy. A lonely forgone dragon wanders a lifetime in purgatory, searching for hands to follow, for he was reborn into the dead silence of solitude. He stretched his inhuman heart as far as it could reach, enough for anyone to hold. But it twisted and tangled in thorns, cradled by serpents' eyes that prayed for his ruin. In brief moments of rest, his visions were suffocated with catastrophic destruction unbeknownst to the reincarnate. When he was eventually released, no one turned for him; a trail of fire he would have to walk alone, bleeding for repentance until his sin was permanently consumed by the collapsing universe.  

A race cursed to live forever rarely knew joy or love to its full extent, as all things mortal would return to the ground beneath them. It wasn’t worth the attachment, nor the deserved doom of a man denied salvation. 

Your arrival at the space station upturned his perception. He wasn’t sure why he yearned to be near you, why his senses craved your smell and sight. He had to distance himself from you as much as possible, but the melody of your pure voice stored a rhythm in his core that could not be removed. He lamented the blooming affection in his discernment. Often lying awake at night, struggling to satiate the urges. 

To you, he was Dan Heng. The solemn, headstrong friend that seldom spoke in your presence. Your favorite pastime was playful banter; he rarely smiled, but it pulled at your heartstrings when the corners of his lips slightly lifted. When he picked at his food, you went out of your way to find out what he preferred and arranged your meals around his. You spent almost all of your time on the parlor car. That isn’t to say you weren’t interested in adventuring, you frequently noted the prettiest gems March showed you during their trips. You asked Dan about the stuff he enjoyed, but it’d usually amount to “I was too focused on staying alive to take in the scenery.” You recall entering your room after their return and noticed an iron scrap flower sitting on your windowsill. Dan nonchalantly admitted to the act, mentioning how he overheard your liking for metallic constructs. You originally thought this was simply an extension of your friendship, but the burning ache in your body spoke otherwise. The little things he did, such as bringing small gifts or ingredients for you to experiment with made you seek that numbed heart, imprisoned in ice. 

Himeko joked about your sour mood whenever Dan Heng was gone. You read while she stared at you, amused by the pout on your face. “Hmm, your boy toy is missing. Feeling down?” Your head shot up, ears hot from the assumption.  

“W-what? No, of course not. We’re friends, Himeko.” you panicked. She softly giggled. 

“Don’t worry. They’re coming back soon.” You peeked up from the pages. 

“...When?” you mumbled. “A few days. Now you can stop being so sad.” 

You were ecstatic when they arrived, ready to hear about their grueling journey, and more so happy to see Dan Heng. As March relived her storytelling, you observed him. He seemed to be in a trance. His expression was the same as always, but he felt disconnected from you, like he discerned a grim future. He didn’t come to dinner and went to sleep. When you asked March if something happened, she shifted uncomfortably but finally spoke.  

“Dan Heng...he changed on the Xianzhou Luofu.” She’d conveniently left out most of the story. 

“What do you mean ‘changed’?” you questioned, finding it hard to mask your worries. “He had horns and... It was all really new. I kinda wanna forget about it, too.” You didn’t pressure her for more information, and she went to her room shortly after.  You tossed in your sleep, wondering what he must’ve gone through, and what you could do to help him. 

You awoke in an inky blue void, the stars cascading a brilliant aura across the night. There were no other planets visible; only the vast moon, a divinely warm glow, alluring and protective in your gaze. Heavenly bodies carried infinitely above, shaping the moon in its godlike image. You stood in a comparatively small pool of iridescent liquid that waterfalled off each side. It marbled from refracted shimmers, cool to the touch. Somehow life emerged in the barren quiet, white lotus’ decorating most of the area. They never spilled down the stream, as if they'd been waiting. In said pool, was a man with elvish ears and gleaming horns, kneeling turned away from you. His pale arms were shackled behind him, and his delicate hair cascaded down his naked back. If you listened closely, you could hear the faint sobs he tried to stifle. You wanted to comfort him, to calm his nerves. You took a step, and he stopped. He didn’t acknowledge you. You took another step, your hand wishing to touch him. Before you could, you phased out of your dream.  

For the next two weeks, he didn’t leave his room. Not when you were around. At the same time, this reoccurring dream was plaguing your thoughts. It ended the same way each time. March aimed to console you, but you felt she knew more than she led on. Fatigued from your restless mind, you decide to talk to Himeko instead. She stirs her drink while Welt reads the paper. 

“Good morning, (Y/N).” said Welt. 

“Good...morning.” you yawned, rubbing your worsening eyebags. 

“You don’t seem okay. Is everything alright?” Himeko asks, motioning for you to sit beside her. 

“Something is wrong with Dan Heng and March isn’t telling me everything. I was hoping you would.” Welt clears his throat, sets the paper on the table and walks away. Himeko puts her hand on your knee. 

“He’s feeling unwell right now. It’s best we don’t disturb him.” 

“I’ve been having this weird dream, of a guy with horns. He’s crying. And I can’t save him. What does this mean? Why is everyone keeping this from me?” Alarm flashes in her expression, but she composes herself. She sucks in a deep breath. “Do you know what a Vidyadhara is?”  

“No.” 

“Vidyadhara descended from dragons, and they’re very powerful. Dan Heng is a special case of Vidyadhara, so we must treat him as such.” 

“So why can’t I see him?”  

“It’s important that we avoid him while he’s in the process of...getting through this.” 

“But someone has to check on him, right? I could be the one to do it-” 

“(Y/N). Dan Heng requested specifically, that I don’t allow you to see him.” You felt your heart pierce. You believed you were friends with him, so why was he forcing you away? “Oh. Okay.” you said meekly. You went back to your room to contemplate. 

 You were a ghost throughout the day, serving food in silence. When the crew went to bed you prepared a hearty soup to soothe whatever illness he had. He’d probably reject it, but the selfish side wanted to know why he was upset with you. Even if he didn’t have an answer, perhaps his voice would be adequate. Arriving at his door, you knock twice gently. 

“I have some soup for you. Himeko said you were feeling ill. I won’t disrupt you, just want to make sure you’re eating.” He said nothing. “If you’re not hungry, let me know and I can store it for tomorrow. You can’t get better on an empty stomach.” You hear rustling inside, but he still said nothing. 

“Did I do something wrong? I’m sorry if I did.” 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, but I need you to go away.” His voice is feeble, and it scares you. 

“Can I please leave this on your desk? I’ll go away right after, I promise.” You 're practically begging, but you need to see him and know he’s okay. Dan Heng’s weakening mindset rationalizes his risky judgement, and he allows you to come in. He should be able to defend you from himself with the strength he has left; there’s no other choice. “Okay.” 

When you open the door, you’re horrified at the state. Books and precious documents were strewn across the floor or shredded, along with most of the blankets. He’s hunched over on the futon clenching his abdomen, strands of hair sticking to his shiny forehead and puffy lips. He was in a form you've never seen, dressed in elegance in contrast to his shaking figure. The clothes were disheveled, however, the window on his top ripped down the middle, exposing the muscular torso underneath with his pants pulled just under his v-line. He's flushed and sweating, a look in his eyes that both terrifies and excites you. What was most shocking were the pointy ears and horns protruding from his head. The same ones from your dream. He tracks you as you walk to his desk. He’s undoubtedly weak, and yet you feel hunted. You set the soup down. 

“Shouldn’t you ask Bailu about this?” 

“I did already. There’s nothing she can do. I have to wait.” You get on your knees next to him, and he recoils from your proximity. 

“Wait for what?” 

“I'm hot all over, all the time. Nothing I do works, even when I feel good it’s not enough.” he rasps. His eyes are shut in an attempt to null the intense sensation blazing in his veins. You ultimately realize what he means and regret your cluelessness. Still, you don’t leave, deconstructing his resolve. Suddenly, Dan Heng feels the tender press of your palm to his forehead; the touch of someone he could recognize in different timelines and different bodies. The scent of morning dew at early sunrise, the light in its darkness, bitter and sweet and persistent. He punished the thought of ravaging you, but the incessant thump of his member was staggering. He grabs your wrist tight, a guilty look in his eyes. 

“I can’t control myself. Go. Now” he shouts. His anger doesn’t scare you, and your other hand caresses his cheek. 

“Does it hurt? I can help you.” Dan Heng’s frozen as your fingers travel down his Adam's apple, then his chest, to the hem of his bottoms. He’s on his back taking deep labored breaths, the print growing from your airy brushes. 

“I don’t want you to be in pain anymore.” 

You spring his cock free, and it bounces into your hand. It’s thick and almost twelve inches, a rosy-brown gradient to the mushroom tip. His veins dance around the rounded spikes lining up his shaft on both sides. A frustrated sigh leaves him, beads of pre come dripping down his balls. You lubricate your hands with his slick and start to slowly pump him. His head is spinning, the intoxicating ecstasy makes him rut his hips and bite his blushed lips. You fondle his balls with one hand while massaging the tip with the other. Whimpers echo pleasantly in your ears, and he can’t stop watching you, drinking up your shy glances. It twitches in your hold; you can feel how close he is. He’s falling apart because of you and your dampened underwear accepts it. You push your thumb in his mouth and part it to reveal excessive drool and sharp canines.  

“Do you like it?” you tease. He makes noise resembling an “uh huh” through teary eyes. 

“You wanna come?” He quivers from the question. He can only manage a moan. You move to his base, and you slaver at the daunting size before running your tongue along the urethra and taking him in your mouth. He throws his head back but tries to restrain himself from bucking into you. You can barely get it halfway as his cockhead kisses the back of your throat. You hollow your cheeks and start bobbing your head, he trembles from unconstrained pleasure.  

“Please, I’ll do anything please let me come” he whines, tears spilling down his cheeks. You move your hands with the suction along his gradually noisy whimpers, the occasional gag from sloppy grinding. 

“Ah, ‘m gonna come-” he chokes, his chest hitched rapidly, spurting ropes that flood your throat. He rides the wave against you until you pull up. When you meet with him again, his demeanor changes. He instantly snatches you into his arms and smothers his nose in your stomach. He tears your clothes off impatiently, just to taste your bare skin. “Dan-” 

“You smell so good. Aeons, why do you smell so good.” He gazes at you darkly, littering wet kisses across your stomach and chest. His slender hands grope and explore anything they can reach. It was like he had a burst of energy; he nearly lifts you off his lap. You notice his horns get progressively longer, a dim radiance outlining them. His nails grew too, they dragged light scratches over your breasts to your hips. He pulls you to him, lips barely hovering before they collide into a deep, passionate exchange. Unspoken words allow teeth and tongue to mix, and you moan into each other. The pheromones hugging his consciousness are addictive, he needs more of it. He promptly flips you on your back, his eyes look down on you with a starving glint. 

“I’m hungry now.” 

“Oh sure, I can warm up the-” 

“No. Let me eat you.” His statement was more of a demand than a request, as he mangles your panties down your legs. He forces your thighs back and appreciates the glistening sticky folds. “Stunning” he purrs. He licks a flat strip to your clit and laps up your juices, then envelops his mouth in your heat. His firm squeeze prevents you from escaping the determined pink muscle, swirling and twisting around you. He switches between French kisses to your vulva and merciless sucking on the erect bud. He’d rather drown in you than catch his breath, your essence covers his jaw and chin. You card your fingers through his scalp and accidentally sweep his horns; he shudders. You rub the pad of your thumb on it, earning a strangled whimper. His tongue sinks into your passage and begins to move at a brutal pace. You tease the sensitivity in his horns, flicking and circling them. The vibrations from his moans rock against your walls and your hips stutter. “Ah- I’m close” you plead. He stimulates your clit, and you pulse around him before your back arches, and you unwind. His mouth is stitched to you as you try to wriggle out of his grasp. He continues to devour your climax. He hoists your lower half off the ground, savoring your honeyed desire, laughing from your overstimulated cries. You’re spasming and feel your heart racing in your ears. He stops at the approaching precipice and lays you down. Balmy kisses dot your knees. 

“Please Dan Heng, more” you beg. 

“(Y/N), I don’t want to hurt you.” He's throbbing, and he straightens your legs to roll his hips between your thighs. The plush fat cuddles his cock and he pants. You grab his hand. 

“It’s okay, I’m yours. I know you don’t mean to hurt me.” 

“But-” 

“I love you” you blurt out. “Please, I want to have this with you. I can handle it, I promise.” Your vulnerability surprises you, and he stops. 

“You...love me?” he questions. For a split second, you see sadness and despair. No one stood to consider an exile incapable of love, but you did. No one bothered to defrost the drifting hollow, but you did. The undying weeps. 

“I love you. I would destroy every star and planet in your name. Carve your worth into the cosmos so that even Fuli could worship your memory. I am yours in its entirety, and I’ll only live for you.” You wipe the tears as they come down and kiss his troubles away. 

“I want you inside me” you whisper. He stands and scoops you up, his hands on your ass and your arms around his neck. He aligns his tip with your sex and lowers you into the plunge. The stretching blaze of your walls accommodating his girth is excruciating.  

“Is this okay?” 

“Yes.” You give him a reassuring smile. He’s stuffing you full, the spikes knead your inner walls the deeper he goes. He bottoms out and stays there for a while. 

“Tell me when to move” he soothes. 

“Go ahead.” He starts an unrelenting tempo, and you grip him like a vice, your arousal drenching his balls. The thundering sound of desperate huffs and squelching, smacking flesh is almost embarrassing; you both don’t care, indulging each other. You could’ve sworn you saw something similar to a dragon's tail swaying behind him, or maybe your mind played tricks on you. Strings of saliva connect his fangs, eyes cloudy with carnal impulse and cock twitching from the friction. He can see the bulge snapping in and out of your stomach and groans.  

“Deeper.” He pulls out and lays you on the futon before positioning you in a mating press. In one swoop he jackhammers your cunt, balls swinging and ragged breath on your ear. His hair blankets you and you soak in his sweating physique, his needy appearance. 

“Gonna breed this pretty pussy” he moans. Eyeing the unoccupied space on your neck, he salivates. You guide his lips to your neck, encouraging him, and he takes the bait. He ruptures the skin with sharp teeth; harsh puncture wounds remain. He licks the blood away, adamant on claiming you. The spikes massage your g-spot, and your eyes loll back, pleasure and pain blurring. Dan Heng loses his composure, frenetic thrusting as he chases his release. 

“I’m gonna come!” 

“That’s it, come with me, my love” he groans. You see black as tremors overtake you and a stream of squirt coats you both. Your wails flow into the halls. Your contracting vulva sends him over the edge, and he finally comes undone, painting your insides to the hilt. You milk every last drop of his gushing seed, and he jerks a few times until limp. The creamy, swelling base pushes your folds to capacity. It's barbed wire in your gut. He strokes and kisses your face. 

“I'm sorry, it’ll go down soon.” With your legs wrapped around him and his head snug against your cheek, you weren’t sure if you wanted it to go down. 

His curse may not be lifted through your embrace. But in your arms, his shackles don't feel as heavy. 

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #30

Salvage Tomorrow.

Imagine dis...

Every flash who has ever gone back in time tried to make the future a little bit better. From the main Flash Barry Allen to his future grandchild, Bart Allen. But he came from a desolate future, a future of ruins. He may have the power from the original Flash but it had been watered down, he may be fast but not as fast as the fastest man in the world, so the question is… 

How did he come back to the past?

He did not have enough energy or power to travel through the speed force and through time to safely arrive in the past without disintegrating himself… So how?

….

Danny Fenton also known as “Phantom” was thrust into another mission by Clockwork but instead of his usual errands where he needs to retrieve something, this time he needs to ensure a certain event must happen.

When Danny asked which point of time he would be sent Clockwork admitted that he would be sent to the future where Dan came from.

That startled Danny because as far as he is concerned the future is now gone and the main event where Dan is formed has been avoided, also Dan is slowly mellowing out and he is very sure Dan developed a soft spot for him. Clockwork sensing his ward’s question chose to open a portal to that timeline and began to explain. There is another event that must take place just as after Dan goes back in time just to ensure he was made, a speedster was supposed to travel back in time to prevent another major apocalypse and he needed a bit of help.

Clockwork also suggested Dan to come along, Dan is a bit skeptical since he left an impression on the remaining humans. Danny assured him that he could do this alone and he had done it multiple times. Dan just snarked back that Danny might be attacked and it would be a shame if he died from a puny human.

With much more arguing Danny was sent back to the past to help the Flash at the time to go back in the past.

…

When Danny gets to the end of the portal, The scene surrounding him is eerie, with degradation and ruins that represent the once-thriving society that he remembers. Collapsed buildings and overgrown plants litter the streets, showing the remnants of a once-thriving community. Danny can practically taste the ash that clung in the air.

There he was, He couldn't help but wince at the future that his future self did, no wonder the Observants wanted him dead the moment Danny gained his ghostly powers. He can barely sense any living being as for the undead one, immediately cleared out of his way the moment he even breathed in his direction. Using invisibility he flew to the nearest human camp that he had sensed after 3 days of exploring for any signs of life. According to Dan, Danny remembers, that he knew there was a small group of humans who survived the initial killings and tried to hide from him 

He saw that the majority of them were civilians living off the scraps they had found in the ruins of their cities. Some were trying to plant some seedlings into the soil, but Dan had poisoned the soil with ectoplasm as a form of a slow execution or some sort. All of them are weary and vigilant as if Dan would come back any moment to finish them off.

Of course, Danny can't just stroll there, from the way they tense they would run off any minute plus he didn't know which one would go to the past. 

At first, he started off helping them in terms of small things like if they were a bit cold during the night a few more blankets would appear. They were running out of drinkable water, a trail suddenly appeared towards a small creak that wasn't infected by the ectoplasm. 

At first, everyone was able to brush it off as a stroke of luck but then the remaining heroes or those who have a connection to the said former heroes began to doubt the sudden gifts they tried to catch the person giving them gifts but it took a child’s laughter to catch their invisible helper.

…

Danny was just dropping off another small batch of supplies hidden a few feet away from the main group so that when they went exploring they could find the said supplies. The group for exploration left the camp leaving with a few children who had survived along with some young adults to watch over the said kids. One of the kids began crying as if their situation finally sunk in, Danny who was still invisible tried to comfort the child but it was then the group to explore went back and Danny forgot to turn on his invisibility, Let us just say panic ensued.

…

After the entire fiasco of yelling, shouting, fear, and screaming they can talk civilly to each other after a few weeks of Danny proving himself further that he is not Dan despite looking like a smaller carbon copy of the man.

Danny didn't want his relationship with Dan to be known so he let them draw their conclusion, he heard from afar that they were slowly trying to trust him as if he was truly Dan they would have killed them already since Dan broadcasted his fight, do you even call a massacre a fight? To enjoy their screams.

Danny was too elated to hear the good news that he missed their conclusion of him being Dan’s son who is trying to do good despite their father being the cause of such an apocalypse.

A Bat, from the insignia etched to their chest, finally interrogated Danny on why is he there and Danny homestyle told them that he could be a battery. At first, a flash of surprise etched on their face then went back to their neutral form. The said Bat member asked how Danny knew, Danny evaded the question and proceeded to insist that he could help whomever they were sending to the past since not only they are missing the needed parts to their machine but they also needed a battery powerful enough to power up the machine.

…

After a much-needed trade and interrogation, they finally decided to let Danny help. With Danny’s expertise, they were able to finish the pod to let one of them travel back in time. Bart Allen was chosen as not only he is a speedster but when it comes to the delicate balance of time travel the Flash’es are the ones to handle it. 

Just as they fire the pod that contains Bart, Dan suddenly appears looking grimly at the group, Danny, and the machine. Bart’s final moments before he was sent to the past were the horrified looks from the group that protected him and Danny’s scared/grimacing face at the face of Dan.

…

The last remaining group of humans slowly disappears as a result of Bart’s change in the timeline. The Bat looks at Danny with a determined look trying to blurt out codes to Danny that if he ever needed help the Bats in the past should recognize the code. 

Bart and The Last Bat can’t help but get close to the ghost boy who despite his father tries to do good.

…

As the last human disappeared Danny can’t help but blurt out to Dan that it was hard to gain their trust, and that’s why he was late. Dan just rolled his eyes and told Danny that he was there to fetch him since this timeline was about to vanish. Danny the ever petulant child let Dan drag him by the collar to the portal as he watched the reality he knew for a few weeks gain cracks and destroy itself.

Surely Danny thought, he would never see Bart again. He had been Phantom since he was 14 and it had been 3 years since his accident and there had been no contact from Bart.

…

Meanwhile, Bart has been trying to find a Phantom ever since he went back in time. As if the universe is against him when it comes to trying to find Danny, something is at foot and needs his full attention. During his mission, the theory “Phanton is the son of Dan” solidified when he saw multiple cave paintings and even mentioned Dan. Which made Dan old enough to procreate.

…

It was a mission gone wrong that reunited the two. Bart along with Kon and Tim on a usual mission to bust some villain's butt, but of course when things got too well things went sideways, and able to kidnap them.

Opening his eyes, Bart took a good look around him, he was cuffed with anti-meta cuffs that dampened the powers of metas who committed a crime. He along with his teammates are all tied up in some sort of Occult Ritual for the Lazarus pits. Bart joked to Tim also known as Red Robin that this only happens in Gotham and they were states away from Gotham. Tim who is looking at their predicament with seriousness chose to ignore Bart. Bart looked a bit bored and thought that this must be a good idea to page Danny.

As the cult group tries their botched pronunciation of Esperanto, Bart who is known as a man of science just like the original Flash and Wally, clears his throat and begins chanting alongside the cultists. As the mist suddenly invaded the room, ice began sprouting from the floor trapping the cultist inside of them.

Both Red Robin and Superboy are now on the edge seeing the cultists were able to summon something and Bart is now smiling across his cheeks since he recognizes that ice anywhere.

Bart yelled out to Danny in the mist, both Red Robin and Superboy were now looking at him with surprised looks as someone responded to Bart. A white-haired teen wearing royal regalia from his head to his boots with glowing green eyes reminded Tim of the Lazarus pits.

The mysterious white-haired teen greeted Bart tiredly as seen from the deep eyebags below his eyes. Bart immediately went to chatter Danny’s ears off as Danny tried to free them from their bindings. Just as Bart excitedly introduced Danny to his friends, Danny immediately went alert and told them to hide immediately. Tim and Conner who are still distrusting Danny, suddenly yelped at Bart as he dragged them to hide behind one of the ice pillars. 

Tim the ever detective tried to ask what was going on and Bart just hushed them with an attitude that they had never seen from the time-traveling teen. A green glowing portal appeared behind Danny and what emerged made Bart’s face turn paper white.

Tim has questions about what is happening and opts to stay quiet and observe. Bart whom Tim knew as cheerful, chatty, and optimistic about the dire situation suddenly went quiet and began to fear whomever appeared behind “Danny’s” back.

The thing that emerged from behind Danny is a larger, buffer version. Of himself with a few details and traits missing from their savior to the newcomer. Danny tensed and asked why is he there and the new commer smirked grabbed “Danny” by the collar and dragged “Danny” towards the portal while “Danny” was weakly protesting.

The moment the portal disappeared Bart looked in the direction where their savior had been dragged off with a mix of confusion and dread and immediately barked at Kon to break the cuffs that hindered his powers while marching towards the direction to the nearest Zeta tube.

…

Danny just answered a cult’s calling not because he wants to evade his paperwork no sir, he is one responsible halfa and he would never use every excuse he can come up to escape paperwork. The ritual that the cult is using is powerful… oh no….. He deadpaned at Dan as he disappeared from the castle.

When he did appear at the scene he immediately spotted Bart, no wonder he heard a familiar voice in between the botched Esperanto. Danny is just happy to reunite with his friend when he feels Dan is fetching him. Danny told Bart and his friends to hide as Dan might scare them, first impression people!!!

Danny wants to introduce to Bart a redeemed Dan after he asks Bart if he is okay with seeing the person who turned the world into ruins. He may never listen to Jazz when she rants his ears out but some knowledge tends to stay you know.

Dan just smirked as he dragged Danny away knowing that another pile of paperwork added to the mountain of it. Danny just whined to Dan about why is he even doing this when Dan is the regent, it was agreed upon by the Ancients that Dan should be a stand-in as the king of the Infinite Realms while Danny finishes his royal studies to become king and his human life. Dan just said that he just has to look pretty while Danny does the actual things.

Danny just pouted at the notion, as he lay his head on the table that impressively holds the tons of paperwork that reaches to the ceiling of the former king’s castle he can’t help but notice his relationship with Dan. Gone with the anger and malice, replaced with fondness and affection between them, brother, a word Dan accidentally muttered when he thought he was asleep. 

Dan is painting himself a target, Danny mused, with the GIW doubling their efforts, despite their continuous idiocy the rare times they managed to capture one is devastating. Any none ghost knew that there was a new king but not who, with Dan’s appearance could easily gain all the enemies of the real king aka HIM. Declaring Dan as the king is keeping him safe and unknown to everyone aside from the closest Ancients who knew the truth.

 A ploy to keep him safe.

Danny just sighed and wished Bart could help him out of the paperwork. 

…

Meanwhile, the JL is in a panic, Time travelers typically avoid telling directly what’s going to happen to avoid further complications the moment they step their feet, so they try to steer the present just a little bit for a better future. So when Bart, the time traveler from a desolate future bursts into the meeting room full of the founding members with two of his teammates trying to catch up to him, about Danny. Flash immediately jumps into action telling Bart to stop what is doing, Bart reiterates that Danny is not his father and Batman immediately barks out a report.

So Bart explains, explains a ruined future,  a future full of poison that seeped into the soil and water rendering everything dead, a future where there were only small groups of humans, a future where it was ruled by a tyrant named Dan, a future where his only son Danny Phantom defied the said future so that Bart could go back and change the future.

Constantine explained that they have to be careful, with Dan being the king of the Infinite Realms, they have to tread carefully, or else it may be seen as a declaration of war. If Trigon only conquers different realities then Dan has the power to destroy the universe and realities as they know it. He can make Trigon and Darkseid out of the business.

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

 PPS: I am now confused about which prompt I should post due to my idiotic self mixing up the date so we’ll go back to the former schedule.

[steviewashere]

Thinking about a fic idea right now where Steve comes out (maybe with a little Steddie...maybe; might be best to start them pre-relationship in this). Walk with me here.

Steve Harrington who has always been a huge Wham! fan. And then eventually a huge George Michael fan. He's got all their albums. Collects magazines with interviews in them (y'know, if there's a U.S. release). So, he's pretty much up to date with all news, music info; that kind of thing. He's always on the money about when interviews are.

George Michael who comes out publicly in 1998 after his arrest. Which, you can watch the clip from the interview here. He's thirty-four at the time, had been private about his sexuality and romantic life up until then.

Steve who's freshly in his thirties.

He's thirty-one. He's had some thoughts in regards to his sexuality for years now. Since Robin came out to him in 1985, he's thought about little things. The way certain guys walked that caught his attention, maybe the plushness of their lips, how they styled their hair. She's introduced him to queer culture at the time—pride parades & protests, some lingo, the handkerchief code, etc. So, he's well aware of a lot of things before the CNN interview airs. He hasn't made any hard connections between his sexuality and the thoughts in his head; maybe he's had a few, soft, questioning moments like: Am I gay? Am I bisexual? Is this what I really think or am I searching for something I don't actually want? Am I just being too observant?

(Okay, thinking about pre-Steddie now. And a lot of platonic soulmates Stobin. Also, I totally (accidentally) half-wrote a fic. Stay with me here.)

Eddie's been a part of Steve's life since 1986. Somehow he survives (don't ask me the fine details, I don't know). And Steve tries his hand at being Eddie's friend because he kind of—no, really—wants a guy friend who's around his age. Cue their shenanigans: the chaos they cause together, the pranks they pull on their other friends, the shit Eddie makes Steve get into (drag racing (cars), stealing scrap from the junkyard, throwing rocks over the quarry to guess the impact they made, other little town shit). Eddie who learns that Steve's a true ally to Robin, so he comes out to Steve, too. They all form a very great, deep bond of solidarity. Become roommates outside of Hawkins, somewhere a little more progressive. They protect each other. Listen to each other.

Cue the day in 1998 when the CNN interview is being aired live, unseen up until then. Steve's already ready to watch, having taken up the middle cushion on the couch. Robin's on his left, criss-cross and making a set of beaded bracelets for the three of them. Eddie's on Steve's right, uncapping a couple bottles of beer to pass over. And they're watching with Steve because Steve likes George Michael and, well, they like Steve and his interests. So they're all there when George Michael comes out. They're all there when the words are said live.

Robin and Eddie are wide-eyed, then laughing something a bit triumphant, high-fiving over Steve's head, maybe chanting something: "One of us! One of us!" Maybe becoming huge George Michael fans as they speak. But, Steve's silent. He's sitting on the edge of his cushion, palms down on his thighs, staring off into nothing. All the celebration stops as the interview continues, words being missed. And Robin and Eddie share an odd glance, a questioning one. Until, finally, Robin asks, "Steve-O? You OD over there?"

Steve blinks back into existence. Mutters, "Did George Michael just come out on live TV?" Eddie answers him truthfully, voice a bit soft and concerned. Steve licks his lips, doesn't move his eyes from his socked feet. "...He knew for a little while," he comments. "Right? He knew for a while."

"Sure, Steve," Eddie answers again. "He probably knew about himself for a long time. Probably...Honestly, probably while he was still in Wham."

Maybe Steve nods at that. Maybe he just stays kind of stoic, thinking too hard. "He's thirty-four," Steve points out.

"That he is," Robin answers this time. "Thirty-four and proudly out."

Steve hums some sort of acknowledgement and then goes back to watching the TV, moment drifting away. He sort of watches in a daze. Up until he turns in for the night. Well after Robin has slumped over on the couch and Eddie's gone to bed earlier—because he has work, or so Eddie's said. And Steve maybe sits in his bedroom, up at his headboard, looking down at his albums. At his Wham! and George Michael albums. Turning the tapes over in his hands, reading the track lists, maybe tracing the edges of the cases with his thumbs. Thinking about how George had said he was telling his life story, even through some of his earlier solo work. He's thinking about how successful George Michael has been. And then he thinks about how George Michael came out later in his life. In his thirties, not in his twenties, not in his teens. Sure, yes, it was definitely more negatively criticized to do so, but it means something to Steve. To be thirty-four and freshly out. And he thinks, too, about being thirty-one and things clicking into shiny clarity—he's into guys, too. He's into women, but he's into guys. That word, "bisexual" looking like the final jigsaw piece. To be thirty-one and proudly out, too.

And he's comforted in that thought, as he drifts off to sleep.

And when he wakes up in the morning, he bustles around Eddie and Robin in the kitchen. They make a shared breakfast of scrambled eggs and sausage and toast with jam. They sit at the dining table, forks against plates, shooting the shit back and forth.

Steve cuts a slice of sausage, puts it in his mouth, eats as usual. And just as the conversation is beginning to drift again, he finally speaks what's on his mind. "I'm bisexual," he's able to proudly state.

Maybe Eddie and Robin cheer, too for that. They ask him for his taste in guys. Maybe they tease him a little. Maybe Eddie realizes he fits the bill a little; maybe he waits a little bit before taking a shot, but he still does eventually.

And right before they head off for their respective, regular lives outside of the comfortable space of their apartment, Robin knocks their shoulders together. "Proud of you," she states. "Thirty-one and proudly out. How does it feel?"

They're in the kitchen, washing and drying the dishes because Eddie left for work already with a promise to bring home pizza for dinner. They're in the kitchen, the lights a little fluorescent like the Starcourt bathroom. They're in the kitchen, in each other's orbits, two friends who've seen it all and will continue to see the world together.

"It feels...I feel good. Excited."

Robin smiles at him, something soft and understanding. And as his focus goes back to the plate he's about to hand off, she snorts. "So, Eddie, huh?" And he scoffs, rolling his eyes. She just laughs to herself. Then, when she's calmed a little bit, she states, "He kind of looks like Rowlf. You and I have a thing for Muppets, Stevie. Muppets."

And after their laughter dies down and they live out the rest of the day, Steve thinks about how he can send a letter of thanks to George Michael. And maybe he cherishes those albums a little closer. And he is confident in himself for the first time in a while, all because the representation he didn't know he was seeking, is finally right in his face.

Sorry that got long. But I'm just thinking about Steve who comes out later in his life. Maybe he couldn't make those connections because he didn't have the safe atmosphere to do so; feared the worst if his parents ever realized he didn't care too much about women sometimes, if his eyes drifted to men a little too much, fearing that they'd catch his contemplation. Maybe he found his safe space through Robin and Eddie, but needed a little more of a push and he just didn't find it yet. Up until now.

[inlovewithquestionablecharacters]

Hannibal X Reader: An ethical issue

Summary: you wanna fuck your therapist thats it thats the plot

Warnings: smut, sex, penetration (p in v), fingering, pet names, making out, light choking, light bitting, hickeys, patient x therapist, unprotected sex, pet name (dear), not proof read (got lazy)

Word count: 2,9K

“It's unethical, you know?”

You raise your head to look at Hannibal, eyes making contact with his. He can see the questions swimming inside your head. You’d been deep in thought when he’d spoken and he had managed to break your train of thought . You placed your cup on the table, wiping your hands on your legs before focusing on Hannibal once more.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“It's unethical.”

“What is?”

“Wanting to fuck your therapist.”

Your eyes widen at Hannibal's words. His eyes bore into you, observing the way your face flushed the more he maintained eye contact. You should probably refute him but it's no use. Dr Lecter has seen into the deepest parts of your mind. He knows who you are. And now he knows your secret. The truth is the sessions had really been helping. It wasn't until recently that you’d found an ulterior motive for coming to every session. 

You had a crush on your therapist. 

You focus your gaze on the wall in front of you, trying your hardest to avoid looking directly at him. Your mind races to try and find something to say but you come up empty. From the corner of your eye you see Hannibal stand. He stays standing for a moment, looking at your frame. You close your eyes as you hear his shoes begin to move against the floor. A nervous sigh leaves your mouth as you feel his body move closer to your position. He stops a couple steps before you, causing you to bite the inside of your cheek. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole. Maybe you should just apologize to him. Tell him he was right and that you would figure out a way to get over him but that would be a lie. And if there was one thing you could never do to Hannibal was lie. He knew you too well. He'd be able to call you out immediately. 

Hannibal watched you squirm slightly, observing your nails scrap against your skin as you rubbed your arms nervously. You still hadn't looked at him. He had already begun to miss the eye contact. Hannibal called out your name.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Of course you can, my dear. I want to see your eyes.”

His voice sent shivers down your arms. He was always soft spoken with you but the deepness of his voice as he spoke seemed to have shifted. Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. You have to raise your head a bit to see him properly due to the position you were in. Hannibal stared down at you tenderly. He looked at the doe eyed look that had made its way into your features. A smile spread across his face, a silent way of trying to calm you. Unfortunately it did quite the opposite. His smile seemed to stroke the fire that was already burning in between your legs. You shifted in your seat, trying to conceal your desire for him. Hannibal noticed the way you shift under his gaze. It made him feel powerful. He enjoyed it but he also couldn't help but reach out for you. 

“I can help you. If you ask me to.”

You watched Hannibal sink to his knees, allowing him to be face to face with you. You stare into his eyes, head tilting to the side as you do. He reached out for you, one hand moving to caress your thigh as the other made its way to your face. He’s trying his best to hold on, not wanting to go too fast and scare you off.

From the moment he’d first seen you you’d intrigued him. Despite everything you’d been through you were kind and trusting. Maybe even a little too trusting. It made Hannibal feel protective over you. He saw himself as your knight in shining armour and despite you not knowing it he would do anything you asked of him. 

“Hannibal…”

Your lips part as his name slips through them. It sounds almost like a moan which causes blood to go rushing down to Hannibal's groin.

“Yes dear?”

“I…I hum-”

“It’s okay. Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.”

A satisfied sound left Dr Lecter's lips at your confession. You shut your eyes expecting him to finally close the distance between you two but he doesn’t. Instead he rises from the floor and begins to walk away from you. You give him a puzzled look. Had he just been toying with you? Was this some sort of experiment? If it was you were sure you’d failed. But if that was the case why had he given you a hum of approval? 

“Come back to the real world dear. Don’t get stuck inside your own head.”

You forced your brain to focus on what was really happening instead of dwelling on negative thoughts. You’d been exercising your focus ever since your first session with Hannibal and you’d gotten pretty good with coming back to reality. Hannibal could tell by the way you looked at him that you'd managed to silence your mind. He gave you a proud smile.

“That's the fastest you’ve ever focused. Well done dear.”

“Thank you.”

“Come sit with me.” 

You rose from your chair, making your way to the blue loveseat Hannibal was sitting in.  You left a small amount of space between you too. The appropriate amount of space you thought there should be between a patient and their doctor. Hannibal couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Always so formal.”

“You’re one to talk. I don’t think I've ever seen you without a suit on.”

“Do you think about that a lot? Me without a suit I mean.”

“More often than I should if I'm being honest.”

It was strange. Despite everything that had happened moments ago this whole conversation still felt extremely professional. You felt like you were in one of your regular sessions. The only difference was the change of topics and the sitting layout. 

“You can come closer. I won't bite.”

Hannibal paused for a moment, turning his head so that he was looking directly in your eyes.

“Unless you want me to.”

He’d expected you to be shocked, perhaps even to get up from your spot due to his bluntness but to his surprise you didn’t. Actually you did quite the opposite. You began to laugh. He’d never heard the sound of your laugh before but he enjoyed it thoroughly. He’d have to make you laugh more often. 

Once your laughter died down you went back to looking at Hannibal. He watched your eyes shift over his face before you lifted your hand. Your fingers grazed against his cheek as you traced his skin. He never broke eye contact, eyes glued to yours even as you caressed his face. 

“I don’t think you have any idea how handsome you are.”

Your statement caught him off guard.  Your soft touches and loving gaze combined with your tender words had managed to make his head spin. For the first time in a while Hannibal felt his stomach bloom with what he could only describe as butterflies. He’d started off this conversation with the intention of touching on a sore subject, your infatuation with him, and had ended up discovering something about himself. It was unethical for you to want him but what was even worse is that he wanted you too. 

He’d moved so quickly that you hadn’t had time to react. Before you knew it Hannibal's lips were crashing into yours. Your body fell down onto the loveset at the force of Hanibal’s kiss, causing you to find yourself trapped beneath him. Your legs widened on instinct, allowing him to slot his large frame between them. Hannibal’s kiss was rough but caring. He nipped at your lower lip as his hands guided you to wrap your arms around his neck. You did as he asked, fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. His mouth may have muffled your moans but it couldn't stop you from bucking up into him. You felt the outline of his dick against your thighs causing you to whine.

Hannibal loved the way you felt against him. He loved how your fingers clung to his hair as he kissed you. He loved the feel of your breasts pressed against his chest. But most of all he loved how desperate you were for him. You decided to wear a dress today. You didn’t  even really known why but you were glad you had. 

And so was Hannibal. 

One of his hands traveled down to your clothed cunt his fingers moving to the edge of your dress. He broke the kiss for a moment, leaning his head down so that he could see what he was doing. You watched him push your dress up allowing him to see your underwear. Hannibal’s head snapped up to look at your face. He gave you a small grin.

“Lovely color.”

“Shut u-hum!”

Hannibal’s fingers moved over your lips spreading them open before beginning to insert a digit inside. Your mouth fell open at the feeling, a broken moan slipping from your lips as it did. Hannibal watched your face fill with ecstasy as he continued to finger you. He’d orignally planned on bending you over his desk and fucking you from behind. But now that he’d seen the angelic look that came over your face as he pleasured you he knew he wanted to watch you cum on his dick. He’d fuck you on your back like a gentleman. 

Well, perhaps not like a gentleman. 

He’s barely done anything and you're already babbling nonsense beneath him. 

“Hannibal i-i fuck- there please there.”

“That feel good?”

“Yes please i wanna… i wanna-”

“Tell me what you want dear.”

“I wanna cum. Please make me cum.”

The way you beg for him makes him think the men you’d been with before hadn't really cared about your pleasure. The thought angers him but it also motivates him to show you how good you can feel. He enters a third digit and you can’t help but latch onto him as you cry out.  You pull his body closer to yours and he lets you. He feels your hardened nipples rub against his clothed chest making him want nothing more but to rip off his shirt. Later though, right now he needs to focus. His hand moves expertly against your pussy thumb moving to caress your clip as his fingers continue to penetrate you. You sigh out his name making him lift his head from where he was looking so that he could stare into your eyes. 

“Hanni… I'm gonna cum.”

“Go on then, cum for me.”

It was as if a verbal command was all that you needed to let loose. The second the words had left Hannibal's lips he felt your cum begin to coat his fingers. He watched your lips part, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you spasmed against him.

What a sight you were.

Hannibal removed his fingers from inside you placing a kiss to your temple before he rose to his feet. Your head lolled to the side, trying to follow him despite your blissed out state. Through blurry vision you saw Hannibal remove his suit jacket placing it carefully on his desk chair. He began unbuttoning his shirt slowly. As he did so he watched you come back to earth. Once you’d gained feeling in your body again you turned over, lifting yourself up so that you could watch Hannibal undress. He felt your eyes on him turning to face you. You gave him a smile which he returned.

“How are you feeling dear?”

“Wonderfull.”

“I’m glad. Tired?”

“Not really. Why?”

Hannibal tugged down his pants in one quick movement allowing his dick to spring free. You watched his member bob for a moment before turning your attention back to his face. 

“Because i’m going to fuck you. Take your dress off for me.”

You tugged at the edge of your dress pulling it off your body with ease. Once you’d gotten it off you threw it to the side before moving to unclasp your bra. Hannibal watched you throw your bra in the pile along with the rest of your clothes. 

“Stand for me dear.”

You did as he asked, hands moving to fidget with each other as he made his way back to you. Hannibal placed his hands on your cheek, cradling your face in them. His eyes trailed over your naked body before he gazed into your eyes once more.

“You are magnificent.”

Your lips latched onto Hannibals in desperation, legs moving backwards  towards the love seat. You crashed down onto a small couch once more tugging Hannibal down with you. You thought maybe he’d scold you for your desperation but by the look in his eyes and the feeling of his hard on against your thigh you could tell he needed this just as much as you did. You spit in your hand moving to stroke Hannibal's dick. He groaned against you, allowing you to caress him for a moment. He rested his face against your neck breathing in your scent as you stroked his member. His teeth grazed against your collarbone making you bite your lip. He sucked at your shoulder enjoying the small gasp that left your lips. Hannibal maneuvered his hand so that he could wrap it around your wrist stopping you from moving. 

“That's enough dear. I want to be inside now. Do you want me inside?”

“Yes Dr Lecter.”

Hannibal grined down at you as you gave him a cheeky smile. Without any warning he plunged into you making your body move backwards at the force. He fucked you with incredible speed, hips moving in a pace you didn’t think was possible. You dug your nails into his back as he continued to ram into you.  His hand moved to your throat, fingers wrapping around it with a gentle squeeze. Once he saw you didn’t flinch away from him he tightened his grip around you, not enough to stop your breathing but enough to give you a bit of a thrill. It was embarrassing how fast you reached your orgasm. Before you even realized you had begun spilling your juices around Hannibal's dick. You’d been so high on your own plesure you only noticed when Hannibal let ou a small “fuck” against your ear. Your body sagged into the loveseat as Hannibal continued to pistol into you. For someone whose job consisted of sitting for most of the time he had a lot of stamina. You drifted off into your head only realizing Hannibal had finished when you felt his body fall into yours. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you as close into his as physically possible. You moved to stroke his hair instinctively, the need to touch him consuming you.

“You did so well for me dear. Rest now.”

Hannibal placed a kiss on your chest. You felt him pull out of you making you feel empty. But you didn’t feel that way for long because before you knew it you had drifted off into sleep. 

You woke up on the loveset. Your lips part as you stretch, a yawn escaping your mouth. You could feel something soft surrounding you causing you to open your eyes. A blanket that hadn’t been there when you had fallen asleep was carefully wrapped around your naked frame. You pushed yourself onto your elbow, rubbing your eyes as you gazed around the room. 

“Sleep well?”

Your head snapped at the sound of his voice. Hannibal was standing on the other side of the room with his back turned to you. He was still completely naked. When you didn’t respond to his question Hannibal turned on his heels to face you. Instinctively your eyes trailed over his naked body, your mind going to last night's events. You moved to look at the clock on the wall. It read 9 o’clock.

“Don’t you have any appointments today?”

“I canceled.”

“Why would you do that?”

“So that we could have breakfast together.”

Hannibal moved away from the table he’d been working on giving you a clear view of the breakfast he’d laid out. You rose from the loveseat moving towards him. Hannibal watched you make your way to him, admiring the beauty of your body as you moved. He could see the hickeys he’d left on your neck last night. The sight pleased him greatly.

You looked over the contents of the table. Everything looked delicious. You shifted your gaze to Hannibal, a smile spreading over your face. You wrapped your arms around his waist giving him a hug. Hannibal's arms wound around your body, his hands moving to hold your head. 

“Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. Now sit. Your food is getting cold.”

The two of you sat down and began to eat. The room was quiet as you ate. It was a sort of quiet you’d become accustomed too. The quiet that came when your mind decided it needed to jump into action.

“What are you thinking over there?”

“What are we gonna do? About us, I mean. We clearly crossed a line yesterday.”

“Do you regret it?”

“No, of course not. Do you?”

“No. I do not.”

“Someone could find out. It could ruin your job.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t. It’ll be our little secret. Patient confidentiality and all that.”

“Our secret huh?”

“Is that alright with you?”

“Yeah. It is.”

“Wonderful. Now drink your coffee and finish your eggs.”

[seoltzuki]

Sharing Is Caring (she doesn’t care)

a scrapped work of mine

Sana x afab reader

suggestive

As you busily prepare dinner, approaching footsteps catch your attention.

"I didn't even hear you come in," you remark, spinning around to meet her gaze.

With a serene expression, she settles gracefully onto the marble counter, fixing her eyes on you. Her hair falls delicately around her face, framing it with effortless beauty. You observe her chest rising and falling at an impossibly slow pace, marveling at her calm demeanor despite her hectic day.

Dropping her purse to the floor, she tilts her head slightly, prompting a frown to crease your brow as you contemplate what might have caused her reaction.

“How did your fitting go?” you inquire, resuming the task of slicing tomatoes. She scoffs, sliding off the counter to remove her coat.

“How did your date go, y/n?” she asks nonchalantly, deftly finding the zipper of her dress to slip it down her legs.

You release a sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“Sana, why does this bother you so much? I’ve reassured you countless times that my work with Wendy is purely professional. Can’t you trust me?” you question, pushing the tomatoes into the pan.

Sana steps out of the kitchen for a brief moment and then reappears, settling back onto her spot on the counter, now draped in a dressing gown.

"Y/n, I never said I didn't trust you. It's jus—"

"If you trust me, then why are you making such a big deal out of it!?" you interject, your tone escalating.

Her sigh is audible as she jumps off the counter. "It's just... I've seen the way she looks at you... And I dislike it."

You scoff and begin chopping the mushrooms with more force.

"Well, I've seen the way Miyeon looks at you, and I don't complain," you retort.

She lets out a hearty laugh and envelops you in a hug from behind, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"Miyeon is with her boyfriend, darling. She can't do anything, whereas Wendy... Well, she doesn't have someone to love and cherish like Miyeon and I do," she explains, nuzzling your hair and planting a small kiss behind your ear.

You relax slightly under her touch, but a lingering irritation remains over her jealousy regarding Wendy's attention and the time you spend with her.

"Still... You know she won't try anything with me, Sana. Wendy knows what's going to happen to her if she makes a move on me... She'll have to face the Sana Minatozaki. There's nothing to worry about, love," you reassure her.

She sighs, a soft hum escaping her lips as she pulls your body even closer to hers, clearly pleased at the mention of her name. She trails her hands up and down your sides while planting gentle kisses on the side of your neck. You release the knife, leaning into her touch.

"I just," she begins, slipping a hand under your shirt to grasp your breast through your bra, while the other one trails down your inner thigh.

"Don't want to share you..." She whispers, her hot breath caressing your ear. You sigh, tilting your head to the side to grant her more access to your neck. With a gentle push, she presses you further, ensnaring you against the counter with her embrace.

She leaves open-mouthed kisses trailing up your neck before nibbling on your earlobe. A small whimper escapes your lips, and you swiftly turn around, pressing your lips against hers. Sana moans softly into your mouth, her hands sliding down to squeeze your ass. You whine and gently brush your tongue against her lower lip, your desire for more evident. Sana responds eagerly, parting her lips to deepen the kiss, lost in the heat of the moment.

She pulls back slightly, and together, you both take a deep breath. You can't help but notice the effect the kiss had on Sana – her lips are swollen, and her cheeks are flushed with a rosy hue. A giggle escapes your lips as you reach for her robe, swiftly removing it.

"I think seeing Wendy more often could be fun," you suggest, pulling her closer to you by the waistband of her panties.

She chuckles and slides her hands under your buttocks, lifting you onto the counter.

"I don't think it would be a good idea, my angel" she murmurs, her breath warm against your lips.

Sana teasingly sticks the tip of her tongue out, delicately licking your lower lip, all the while maintaining eye contact with you.

"Because, you're mine."

[zo3mess]

Pest Control

Summary: So, Adrian has a girlfriend… And it’s not you. But that’s fine, it’s not like you have a secret crush on him, right? And it’s not like she treats him like an absolute shit while you have to hear every night how great she is. Maybe someone should help Adrian get rid of that gold-digging leech.

Warnings: 18+, toxic relationships, Adrian is a meanie, reader is a simp and makes questionable decisions, unrequited love (unless…), blowjobs, voyeurism, foul language, fem!reader, no Y/N

Word count: 4.3K

Requests

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist

Note: Wow, this was pain to write. I literally wanted to scrap it every time I worked on this. Anyways, I’ve been thinking about requests I guess? Idk if anyone would be interested, but if you are, just write a message and I might come up with something. Anyways, enjoy this mess <3

You thought Adrian was a smart guy. You’ve listened to him bragging about precisely picking up clues about criminals’ weak spots just from simple observations. You’ve seen him put together who is the killer in the detective series you watch together.

Well, you just have to forget about that time when he thought he could talk himself from that mess he got into when he accidentally revealed his secret identity. Vigilante mask messily thrown under the passenger seat didn’t make it when he gave you a lift

Still it was a shame to see him lose all that perception and common sense when a pretty girl paid attention to him.

Sadly, that pretty girl wasn’t you. Not that you mind of course. You just hated how he talked your ear off with odes on her beauty. Great ass this, big tits that, but you caught up all those small details that he seemingly missed.

How she conventionally forgets her wallet every time he takes her out. How she checks his phone for “cyber threats” when the only true threat is her. How she is always late with her mortgage payment, at least that’s what she tells him, and when he lends her money, suddenly a new pair of heels occupy her shoe rack.

Every shift with Adrian ended before you even realized, you just discussed stupid things when you do the dishes or shoot funny faces at each other across the restaurant. But ever since he got into a relationship, he had his head full of her instead of all your shared interests from before. Over and over again he talked about Meghan.

Just like now, he yapped and yapped, getting all mushy and soft to the point where he almost forgot that he’s supposed to be bussing tables with you.

“She said she loved me, would you believe that?” Even when he was turned away from you he couldn’t hide a cheery grin that formed with his words. He was just so happy, while you practically felt your heart shatter.

“And do you… love her back?”

“I- pfff, of course I do. What kinda question is that?” He answered right after you asked, like he was 100 % sure about his feelings. You knew him long enough to know, that Adrian was far from a person who had his thoughts and feelings together.

You decided not to sow any doubts into his belief, he would shut any of your argument down like the stubborn guy he is.

“You would like her, you know.” Such a simple statement, such an anger trigger.

“You would like her,” you mocked his statement under your breath while kneeling in front of the electricity box from the other side of Meg’s house. “Yeah, I would like her six feet under.”

Hey, maybe it was not the smartest idea to flip her electricity off for seemingly no reason, but God, were you furious. Meghan had Adrian wrapped around her dainty little finger and he acted like her little pet, doing tricks for the smallest signs of affection.

So what if you wanted her life to not be so perfect? At least for a little while until she figures out how to switch the electricity back.

Vigilante would send a bullet right through your head for doing this.

Though you were sure he would never ever-

Well… Maybe he would. Crime is crime, no matter how great friends you are. You were safe for now, he didn’t have time tonight to watch cheesy romcoms with you and laugh at the stupidity of it. Apparently, he had business to take care of, which could only mean he started his stake out earlier than normal.

Just when you were about to stand up and leave in silence, unseen by neighbors if you got lucky, you heard voices. Not exactly near you, but close enough to make you nervous.

Voices. Conversation. Slam of car doors followed by slam of front door… Shit.

The logical part of your brain screamed ‘Run!’ but the other part of your brain, which usually stands behind those kinds of petty actions, tells you to wait for Meghan’s annoyance and confusion once she finds she can’t even switch a light on.

Silent steps, moves like a ninja, if Adrian saw you he would totally compliment your cat-like walk from the electricity box to the side of Meg’s house. Though he would not compliment the fact that you were too eager to snoop around and look inside her house through the half-open blinds.

You expected Adrian’s girlfriend to barge in with her friends of some sort, but genuine surprise spread across your face when she came in with Adrian, who had his hands full with various shopping bags.

So this is what he meant by business? Being a slave in shopping fever?

And he didn’t even have the guts to tell you honestly why he couldn’t hang out after the morning shift like usual.

And what shocked you even more was the situation that unfolded in front of you. Meghan practically launched at Adrian, making him drop all the bags on the floor. She locked him in a messy and steamy kiss that made your stomach twist.

Oh my god. You shouldn’t be watching that, right?

But it was so endearing. It didn’t take long before she slid to her knees and undid Adrian’s jeans with skilled hands and took his dick out. If only she didn’t block your view with her head…

Adrian gasped and writhed under her hands, you have never seen him turn to putty so fast. He gets all wobbly, whiny, and cuddly when he has too many drinks in a bar, which is probably the closest you could have gotten to see this side.

But this? A Whole next level.

Pathetically beautiful.

“Shut up, Adrian.” Meg’s annoyed order sent a shiver down your spine. This just gave you another piece of evidence of how horrible she was.

What fool would shut down an angel’s choir right before them? You only got a taste of what his vocal cords could do amid pleasure and just that was making your insides jump in unexplainable need.

Adrian unfortunately complied. He clamped his palm over his mouth, muffling any noise that threatened to escape as she took him in her mouth. Despite his tries though, a few loud groans still traveled to your ears.

You’ve heard him groan in pain when he sliced his hand by broken glass at work or when he stubbed his toe on your coffee table. But hearing him groan in pleasure? If you could it would be the only sound he would make next to another moans and whimpers.

This was just so wrong. You mentally kicked yourself that you haven’t dipped already. To be fair it wasn’t worse than cutting off electricity in her house, at least in a legal way. In moral ways, this was worse.

But it truly was a sight to behold.

Just from this distance, you could see the way his lower stomach seized with each bob of her head. Or how he stopped his hips from thrusting further. Chest heaving with each shallow breath. One hand dug in the wall he was leaning on, the other hid half of his face desperately trying to shush himself. Usually twinkling eyes shut tightly under his aviator glasses alongside furrowed brows accompanying the whole look.

This boy belonged to an art gallery. And if not there, he could be an art piece in your home, your eyes alone would replace a thousand others.

Maybe all it takes for someone to realize their feelings is to watch a friend get a blowjob. Because right here and there, kneeling next to the window and peeking through blinds, you feel…

Jealousy. That is what it was all along.

You wished you could take Meghan’s place and kneel in front of him rather than hiding and watching the nasty scene in front of you. You just couldn’t tear your eyes away, at least not until it was all over.

Eventually, Adrian cried out loudly and slammed his hand against the wall. That’s where you realized he was not only forbidden from moaning out loud but also forbidden from touching her. Considering this was her way of paying off Adrian...

Meg quickly stood up and ran towards the sink the second Adrian stopped flaring inside her mouth. Why was it breaking your heart to see her spit out his cum down the drain and immediately rinse her mouth with water. And poor Adrian followed her decision to not swallow with a disappointed look.

There must have been something really appealing to guys to have their girls swallow everything they so generously give them. The idea of part of them staying inside their loved ones for the rest of the day.

Ownership.

Except in this situation Meg owned Adrian, not the other way around. At least that much was clear, it made sense she would never allow something so intimate.

It was hard to act nonchalant around Adrian those following days. The second he came through the door you lost ability to talk normally, hell, you forgot how to walk like a normal human every time he was nearby by.

To be fair, there was such a mix of emotions coursing through you it would be a miracle if you acted cool. Jealousy, anger, guilt and… Attraction? No, that can’t be. Every person would feel this weirdly if they saw one of their closest friends getting oral.

It’s like when you experience that strange phenomenon where you dream of someone close to you and suddenly, upon waking up, you realize you have a huge crush on them. It's like your subconscious mind has played a trick on you, ‘Do it for the plot’ as the youngsters say.

Thinking about it afterwards, it was foolish to switch her electricity off. At least it calmed your raging nerves for a while. Give or take few minutes until your mind set off when you saw Adrian getting a blowjob and all of a sudden you developed crush on him.

And now? Well… How else are you supposed to calm nerves from one-sided love?

Alcohol. Drink it over.

Is it a solution? Yes. Is it a good one? That’s debatable.

You don’t even usually drink, at least not in some dingy bars, but it is the only thing that makes you forget about that ache in your chest. You sit by the bar, occasionally spilling sorrows to the barman that clearly let your complaints one ear in, one ear out.

At the point where you felt tipsy and dizzy, you settled on leaving the bar as long as you had some dignity. Phone numbers started mixing, names on your phone were way too blurred.

But the one thing that sobered you out was a woman that walked past you with a man by her side. You knew her, right? She looked familiar?

The pair settled in the booth at the very end of the bar, seeking darkness and privacy, illuminated only by few fairyl ights that hovered over the booth instead of those sharp reflectors by the bar.

The unstable bar stool barely held you up as you leaned towards that woman you have totally seen before. By some squinting and ears dropping you finally figured who it was…

Meghan.

With someone that wasn’t Adrian.

But that fine, it could be some old friend, coworker, maybe brother or cousin-

“Holy shit, they’re making out.”

“Congratulations, your eyes are still working.” The barman chimed in and slid you a bill, impatiently tapping his finger on the counter.

You had to sleep on it, That sight haunted your mind even the day after, when hangover brought you down but your mind was clear enough to think about the thing you saw yesterday.

Meghan. Was in a bar with some macho man that definitely wasn’t Adrian. And they were basically sticking tongues down each other’s throats…

This was wrong. So wrong. Poor Ade had no idea he was being cheated on. Well, it’s not like you haven’t anticipated it, but he couldn’t see it coming.

You would be a bad friend if you didn’t do anything about it. But coming onto him and saying something like this? Adiran would only laugh in your face and tell you to stop fucking with him, his perfect little girlfriend would never do that.

So… What if you gave Meghan a chance? You still had her number from that one time where Adrian tried to do a common movie night. It never happened.

Either she comes clean herself or you will tell Adrian. She does not need to know he probably won’t believe you either way.

Give her creeps, scare her… That’s the plan. You just had to text her from hidden number and wait for karma to do its thing.

She never answered back to that menacing text, days passed and it seemed Adrian and Meghan were still going strong. You almost thought nothing will come out of it.

It almost became the time where you prepared yourself to tell him the truth but…

Until one day, Adrian was acting weird on a shift. Not that it is something unusual, he is weird in certain aspects, but this time it was different.

He did offer you ride home like always though and there was no way you would refuse, at that time you didn’t thought it would be any different.

Not until you actually got into his car…  Familiar environment, same car fragrance, same little silly figure holding motivation quote on his dashboard. Yet your gut screaming that something is not right. Especially when Adrian just sat there, hands on the steering wheel without even starting the car.

“My girlfriend called me,” He started off with a calm voice, but you knew damn well where this was going. “Well, ex-girlfriend now…” He corrected himself with such a nonchalant demeanor like it was nothing.

You just sat in his car, silent, not daring to even flinch. Calm before storm, as they say, now you finally know how it feels.

“And well you know, apparently one of my psycho coworkers was threatening her and stuff.” He chatted away with such grace. Completely undisturbed like he was talking about his favorite pizza toppings. It was pineapple by the way, if anyone was wondering how psychotic he can be.

Why was he so calm? Somehow it was scarier than if he screamed at you right away.

“She said I wasn’t worth dealing with this bullshit, would you believe that?” A way too loud chuckle rang in your ears. You couldn’t decipher if he was actually amused or faked it for the sake of it.

Oh you wanted to turn invisible or at least hide from his piercing eyes. He could see almost every twitch in your face that erupted due to him. Every jerk of muscles in your tense expression and every nervous blink that only revealed your blame.

“And on top of that, she took like 120 dollars from my bank account? Funny huh?”

That didn’t even surprise you, Adrian gave her his credit card for undisclosed reasons. What did surprise you was the lack of emotion behind his ‘jokes’.

You were fucked and not in the good way.

“And I just find it interesting that the person she described sounds a lot like you. So, what the fuck did you do?” Oh, he shoots you that look. That disappointed and angry look that was even more telling than any word could possibly be.

“I did what I had to do. She was with you just for your money, can’t you see that?”

“She loved me!”

“She used you!” You spat back instantly, someone might argue it was maybe even too harsh, but it seemed that all grace left the moment he confronted you.

No other comment followed, no argument, no justification for Meghan’s actions. He just stared at you, a mix of emotions mixing behind his irises and it made you wonder whenever he realized that your words had some truth to them.

The silence that followed made the air near right suffocating, sparkling with tension that could set off with one wrong word. But you take the chance anyway.

“You should be with someone who actually likes you for who you are.”

“Yeah, right,” Adrian scoffed and shook his head to himself, “You mean with someone like you? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Oh, how did that sting. Words laced with mockery and annoyance.

Someone like you…

 Of course he never saw you that way. You were just an insignificant part of his life. Just another coworker, someone he can pass time when he’s bored but nothing more.

“You say that you care and you show it by making my girlfriend dump me. How is that caring?” He didn’t stop flaring hurtful words at you with a choked-up voice. And it made you wonder for a split second if he knew how much he was breaking you. He could be cruel, but would he unleash that side on you?

“You don’t know shit, Adrian!” You couldn’t take it anymore, with an annoyed screech you left his car and slammed the car doors as hard as you could.

Sultry night air pooled warmth over your body the second you left his car and stomped back towards the restaurant. You were ready to beg any of your coworkers for a lift home now that Adrian wasn’t an option.

And in the span of a few days, Adrian lost two people he cared about. Their titles were clear, girlfriend and friend, but those mixed-up feelings hiding behind simple names made his head dizzy. When Meg left, he didn’t feel sadness or loss. It was more disappointment that soon turned into anger directed at you.

Who were you to make decisions like this for him? It was your fault she left him without a word and a few dollars lighter. Well in the grand scheme of things it was just a few.

But all things considered, your departure somehow hurt more. When you slammed the car doors in his face he felt sad. Genuinely. Your actions hurt him, of course, but the feeling only dug itself deeper into his soul when you parted ways on bad terms.

But again, he was never particularly an expert at deciphering his emotions. So whatever he felt, it might as well be a simple betrayal with no extra complexity.

And when it came to you, well…

You knew you fucked up. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. No matter what Adrian believes, you had good intentions. They might have been laced with your own selfish needs, but that doesn’t change the fact that you just wanted to help him.

 What else you could have done except for this? Talking about it wouldn’t make him see clearer, you tried. Leaving him be would be the easiest option, that didn’t seem like a good solution. At this rate, he would lose all his money because of her and probably get all washed up. Just a perfect boyfriend ATM for her.

After many shifts where Adrian completely avoided you and didn’t even shoot you a glance, you finally come to terms that you lost him. There won’t be any more movie nights where you stuff your mouth with cheap popcorn or inside jokes you occupied yourselves at work to make the shift run faster.

Maybe there was a side to his girlfriend that you didn’t see. Light touches in the morning when Adrian spent the night, fleeting kisses, jokes they shared, but what would be the chance she had a heart and used it to love him.

She still cheated on him in that bar. It was her. Totally. No doubt. Right?

A warm storm was brewing in the night sky when you got to your bus stop, the pleasant smell of rain carried itself through the streets and small raindrops wetted your hair and stuck it to your skin. Those kinds of summer storms were nice when you didn’t have to wait for a dingy bus to take you home.

Especially tonight it seemed like the bus would never come. You waited, waited, waited… It either broke down or the driver just decided that he won’t take a turn to get to this specific bus stop.

Either way you were getting drenched, cold and impatient, already settling on calling overpriced taxi or walking home in a storm.

You began walking in direction of your home until a familiar car slowed beside you on the road But even then you didn’t stop walking, you knew damn well who it was but you weren’t gonna give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Sebring’s window got rolled down “Need a ride?” and that was when you finally stopped and took a peek on the driver that had almost too soft of a expression plastered on his face.

That ride home was quiet, yet surprisingly peaceful. Neither of you dared to say a word, either because you didn’t want to interrupt the calm between you or because you simply had nothing to say.

One of those times when you meet up with an old friend after such a long time. When you have to warm up a bit to their presence.

And gods, did you miss him. More than you’d care to admit.

Blinding lamp lights flashed through the car window and slow jazz played from the radio on the lowest volume. And just then, when you finally felt a sense of familiarity you talked “I meant well.”

“I know.” Was all he said back before you settled on silence again, much lighter silence.

From time to time you both stole a glance at each other, but Adrian had to focus on the road and you averted gaze from the fear of being caught staring.

How did you never noticed how pretty he looked in the night light?

He stopped in front of your house, a strong deja vú washed over you, but before you could have exited the car yourself, Adrian jumped out of the car and walked over to open the door for you. It’s not like he haven’t done that before, but after you have been through it was an action you didn’t expect.

Without a complain you exited the car and just stood there on the pavement. In warm summer night that would be almost too quiet if it wasn’t for the light drip drip drop of the rain.

You were both searching for words, for apologies. Both sides were wrong and for the first time in your lives, you both knew you made a mistake. Mistake hidden by a good intention. Mistake hidden by a natural reaction. Mistake made by bad decisions, confused feelings and horrible communication.

“You planted a bug in my head, y’know,” Adrian eventually started, rubbing his hands together, “I- I’m—Sorry for acting like a jerk”

You should say you’re sorry too for sabotaging his relationship that seemed horrible to you, but maybe, just maybe, it was more tender than you anticipated.

Actions speak louder than words, right?

You take a hesitant step forward, but when Adrian doesn’t budge, you lock him in a mundane hug. That type of hugs you gave each other on drunken nights as you stumble your way home, filled with raw emotion and honest care.

Adrian’s back… And you couldn’t be happier.

Who knows if it was that sheer happiness or if you grew too confident from the fact he forgives you, you don’t have anything to lose at this point, right?

Your hand sneaks behind his neck, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. You noticed that he is in need of a trim, but that could wait for better time.

You slowly moved your head from the crook of his neck, up and closer, until your cheeks were smushed together. In same way, those droplets of rain was giving this encounter sort of somber vibe, Peace, comfort, calmness…

And when he still didn’t budge, you dragged your face closer and closer, lips almost dragging across his cheek and then...

And then...

Butterflies in your belly were set free. They spread all across your body, making your fingers tingle as you held his face close to you, making your heart stop beating against your own ribs and against his chest. Sparkling electricity in your lips as you connected them with his own buzzing ones.

Adrian himself didn’t know what drove him to kiss you back. Did it matter anyway? Who the hell knows if his motivation was just a need for a quick rebound or if he finally discovered hidden feelings for you…

After all, you were in his arms and it was all that mattered.

That’s where you belonged all along, no matter neither of you knew it until this moment.

It’s a slow mangling of lips, strong and a little bit messy. Too much saliva, too much tongue in wrong places and yet, it was all you ever wanted, all you ever dreamed of.

Coming home. You think to yourself when you pull away for air.

“Do you want to rewatch Fargo with me?” You murmured against his lips, shit-eating grin on your lips. This was an offer you know he can’t refuse.

“Fargo and chill?” Much to your discontent he pulled away from your embrace, but all wrongs turned right when he took you by the hand and pulled you behind him towards your front door with unseen confidence.

And the second those doors shut behind you, theirs was no doubt you were both in the right place.

Sometimes life works out in the messiest way imaginable. But as long as it does, who are you to judge.

[semisolidmind]

I like the Y/n relationship with Dogday, is kinda sweet in my eyes :3 I imagine that a relationship with Catnap could work if he starts to see Y/n like their own person instead of just an Savior/New god. What do you think?

i think, that over time and with observation, catnap's "worship" of y/n would simmer down to an ardent appreciation, and quiet obsession.

y/n isn't like the prototype. they're far from a hulking mass of rot and metal capable of razing down everything in their path; a being that fits the title of "god," though a twisted one. they don't demand violence of him or the others under their care. their voice doesn't take up immeasurable space in his head, consuming his every waking thought (but they do take up space there, in their own quiet, persistent way).

y/n is human, soft and fragile. he could kill them without a second thought. their hands are small, calloused from work but endlessly gentle. they reach out and request touch, they don't demand it from him or any of them. the toys are allowed to deny them, though they rarely do.

outside the factory, they are an entirely different person. gone is the silent, determined ex-employee come to destroy; in their place is simply... y/n. the angel of mercy. or perhaps they were always the angel that wretched hound believes them to be, and catnap was too blind to see before. he considers himself lucky that he's been granted mercy by one so forgiving. he doesn't care if it's nothing more than pity; he's been freed.

he never thought he'd see real moonlight or daylight or trees or stars or— it's all so overwhelming. he spends the nights wandering the great wide expanse of the outdoors he's been granted access to, marveling at everything and hunting real, living, flesh and blood animals. his gratefulness to y/n can't be overstated. he doesn't mind that he's been relegated to the barn; anywhere that isn't a cell is better than his previous living arrangements.

y/n has every reason to despise him the way the other toys do. he's a monster in every sense of the word. and yet... they never deliberately make him feel like one.

they're still somewhat afraid; he can see it in the way they momentarily freeze when they make eye contact with him. despite this, they offer him kindness. though he avoids the other toys in the house (he's not blind to their hatred, would never dream of asking their forgiveness)...

any spare scrap of attention he can get from y/n is taken without hesitation.

[dsudis]

late night calls, sandman: "I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice.” ?

I almost never manage to write to prompts but hey, it's the summer of 2024! Sometimes crazy shit happens! I wrote this! Don't ask me how long ago I got this ask!

Dreamling, feat. retired Dream & comics spoilers for how he got that way.

The Sound of Your Voice

Hob scrolled back through his texts, reading the slightly disjointed conversation with Dream that had just trailed off into nothing, and then the previous day's exchanges. There were no selfies, but Dream sent pictures of the things he saw on his travels and found interesting--sometimes the sort of holiday snaps anyone might send, but often things that brought it firmly to mind that Hob was exchanging texts with the newly-human former Lord of the Dreaming, who was wandering the world in search of Normal Life Experiences.  

He meant to scroll past, but he found himself studying the photos all over again: the instruction card from an airline seat; a scrap of spiderweb lingering in an unidentifiable corner of two beige walls; a spoon wrapped in a paper napkin; a puddle on a cracked pavement. 

Hob zoomed in on that last, trying to discern a reflection in the puddle, trying to guess what Dream was doing with his hair these days by the shape of the shadow.  

It had been a month now that Dream had been off on his travels. He texted fairly often, and always responded when Hob texted him; they had even spoken twice. The first time had been four days after Dream set out, when Hob hadn't heard anything, and gave up on being cool and called.  

Dream had sounded mildly puzzled, but had been content to chat for twenty minutes. He had actually, haltingly, answered questions about what he was up to, what he'd seen, whether he was enjoying his adventure.  

Hob had managed to compress four days of quietly losing his mind worrying about him into saying toward the end, "Don't be a stranger, right? I mean--you're not my--not a stranger anymore, so--we can keep in touch."  

He'd nearly hung up then just to shut himself up, but Dream had said, "Yes, I see. I will."  

He seemed to have understood, even, because since then he hadn't gone more than twenty-four hours without texting Hob some random observation or sending a photo or just Good morning, Hob, usually at a time that was nowhere near morning where Hob was. 

Dream had even called, a week or so ago. It had taken Hob solidly ten minutes, in which Dream had scarcely paused for breath, to realize that despite speaking perfectly clearly, Dream was so utterly legless that he needed more absurd words for it. He was trolleyed. Gazeboed. Positively coat-hangered.  

"Your turn," Dream had said abruptly, still not slurring a bit but audibly loosened, so that Hob was suddenly sure that Dream was lying down, sprawled somewhere, collar undone, shirt perhaps riding up.  

Hob had been so entranced by that image--did Dream have a bit of an alcohol flush on, lighting up his pale cheeks?--that Dream had had to prompt him again to take his turn speaking. He had managed it just fine once he got going, happy as ever to have Dream listening to him.  

Dream had made a few encouraging noises, then gone quiet, until finally Hob heard a tiny, unmistakable snore. 

"OI!" Hob had shouted into the phone, and been rewarded with something that was almost certainly a snort and the clatter of a dropped phone.  

"Hob?" Dream had said, returning. 

"Drink some water, and lie down on your side to sleep," Hob had said firmly. "Your sister might not take you if you choke, but you don't want her to turn up and laugh at you, either."  

Dream had actually said, "Ugh, she would," before he hung up, and Hob had spent the rest of the day laughing to himself as those words echoed in his ears. 

He couldn't hear them now.  

It was something that had happened time and again. Each time he met with Dream, hanging on every one of the sparse words that dropped from his lips, he felt that he would have that voice etched on his memory, ringing in his ears, forever. For days after, he could hear Dream's words again, playing them over in his memory.  

But every time, before too long, he couldn't remember quite what those words sounded like. He might remember what the words were, but he couldn't hear them anymore. A few months on, he would forget the little quirks of Dream's expression. 

At some point, every time, he forgot Dream's face. 

He could remember what Dream looked like, generally: pale and black-haired, slim and tallish, dressed in black, obviously rich. But he couldn't bring Dream's actual face to mind, had to just wait out the century to see him again, to know him again. There you are. 

He'd already started forgetting after their belated meeting, when Dream turned up again, though Hob still hadn't known his name at that point. There had been a dream, first, and then his old stranger had just--turned up in a pub when Hob was out drinking, having his own miserable evening. He'd pulled out of it enough to realize that Dream was even worse off than he was, that Dream was on the precipice of something unimaginable, but nothing he said had changed any of that. 

And then he'd found himself attending Dream's bloody wake, which was how he'd learned who his oldest friend even was.  

He'd had about a week to try to resign himself to never having another reunion, never refreshing those fading memories ever again, no longer having even one person he could look forward to meeting again on the long road of his eternal life.  

And then Dream had turned up on his bloody doorstep: freshly human and tentatively immortal, as this new incarnation was technically his afterlife. 

Dream had been nearly as bewildered by it as Hob was, and had stayed with Hob for a fortnight. Learning to function in a human body had been undignified and frustrating, but Hob had done his best to smooth the way. He had accompanied Dream through his first experiences of human-sized emotions, which seemed to be something he had no idea how to handle, where had possessed at least a general theoretical understanding of the physically messy bits.  

After two weeks, though, he had seemed to be settling in, and Hob had let himself begin to think of what life might look like with his friend in it--and then Dream had announced that he needed more Life Experience and he was going off to find it. 

Hob knew he'd said it like that, the capital letters audible even though his new voice had lost some slight uncanny edge he'd always had before. He just couldn't hear it anymore, and he couldn't hear Dream's drunken rambling either. He scrolled down through the texts again, trying to hear how Dream would say the words, but he only caught an echo, the velvety depth of Dream's voice.  

It was late; he ought to stop fretting about this and sleep. There would be more texts from Dream tomorrow; sooner or later there would be another call, or Dream would turn up again. Everything was all right now; Dream was safe, and probably reasonably happy, out on his self-appointed quest to get the hang of being human. 

Hob just wanted to hear that from him. He just wanted to hear _anything_, so long as it was Dream. He hesitated another moment, but he had never been good at resisting temptation. He just had time to try to guess where Dream was--and therefore what time it was--before he hit the call button. 

It rang only twice before Dream picked up, sounding not just puzzled but properly disorientated, fuzzy with sleep. "'Lo? Hob? What's..." 

All the circling misery of the last few minutes lifted instantly. _There you are. That's you._ "Hi, love," Hob returned, falling back into his own bed. "I know it’s stupid, but I needed to hear your voice." 

There was a silence, but before Hob could take it back, or say something to give himself away even more, Dream said, "You could... do you think you'd like to--" 

"Yes," Hob said, sitting up again, feeling abruptly wide awake, ready for anything.  

"--Hear it more?" Dream finished.  

"Yes," Hob repeated, standing. "Yes, I--where--" 

"About five minutes," Dream said, which didn't make sense until he added, "it's a good thing you called, I didn't mean to doze off in the taxi." 

"Jet lag," Hob said, mouth running on autopilot as he looked frantically around his bedroom. It was in a bit of a state; he hadn't gotten properly settled into his own newest incarnation before Dream turned up, and in the last few days he'd been... more down than he'd realized until right now, when he wasn't anymore, at half two in the morning. "I keep telling you, you have to respect the circadian rhythm now you have one." 

"I have great respect for it," Dream said, sounding a little amused now. "Unfortunately--" he yawned, "international flight schedules do not, despite being entirely staffed by people who also need to sleep." 

"One of those mysteries we may never solve," Hob agreed. "Uh, your room's a bit--" 

"I will happily sleep on your kitchen floor at this point," Dream said, yawning again before he quite got all the words out. "Perhaps the stairs." 

"Well, we can do better than that, at least," Hob said, pulling on a pair of joggers and giving the covers a few quick tugs so the bed looked plausibly disheveled rather than like a place of insomniac torment. He dashed down the stairs to the front door, and threw back the locks, listening to Dream's quiet on the other side of the line. "Dream?" 

"Still here," Dream assured him, sounding a bit more alert now. "Just a few more blocks, I think." 

Hob leaned out the door, peering down his street, listening as if he would somehow know which car on another street was the one with Dream inside. "Are you..." Hob didn't even know how to finish the question, other than _here yet?_ which was a stupid one.  

"Yes," Dream said anyway, just as a car turned down Hob's street--a proper cab, not an Uber. Dream could be choosy about things like that. "I see you. I--I am very glad to see you." 

Hob raised and arm and waved, to be sure the cabbie would see him too, and cleared his throat before he could say, "Same to you, my friend." 

"Yes," Dream said dryly, even as the cab was pulling up, putting the rear door exactly level with the stairs to Hob's door. "I can see that." 

Hob glanced down at himself and realized that he was both shirtless and barefoot, and showing a wide strip of his pants on one side where he hadn't managed to pull the joggers all the way up. Hob sputtered, already starting to laugh at himself and unable to find a riposte; he looked up again and his breath stopped.  

Time stopped. 

Dream was on the pavement below him, straightening up out of the cab. He was looking straight at Hob, with just as much bright gladness in his face as the first time they'd seen each other again after their longest parting. 

Hob dropped his phone and darted down the stairs, colliding with Dream halfway and flinging his arms around him. He clung tight long after they were both steadied from the impact, pressing his face into Dream's messy hair. "Say something," Hob murmured, breathing in the not-too-recently-washed smell of him, soaking in the solidity of the angular body pressed up against his. 

"Your front door's closed behind you," Dream murmured. "And I think you've cracked the screen on your phone." 

"Bugger," Hob muttered, squeezing tighter; Dream's grip tightened in answer until Hob could feel his ribs creaking, and still neither of them showed any sign of letting go. "The door, I mean, that's a bother. The phone screen's been cracked for weeks." 

Dream gave a little _tsk_, pressed a kiss to the spot just before Hob's ear, and then let go all at once, sliding past him to retrieve his phone. Hob pressed his fingers to the spot where Dream's lips had pressed, and didn't manage to speak, or even think anything coherent, before Dream was straightening up again, phone in hand.  

"They can be replaced," Dream pointed out. "And you gave me a key before I left, so even the door is not such a great bother as that." 

"Yeah, I wasn't that worried," Hob said, fingers still pressed to the spot in front of his ear, staring at Dream, who was going just a bit pink. "Dream, you--" 

"You gave me a key," Dream repeated, making no move to get it out and unlock the door, still holding Hob's battered phone. "Before I left, you said. I could always. Come home." 

"Yeah," Hob said, and finally managed to drop his hand from his own face, reaching out with the same fingers to touch the brightening pink of Dream's cheek. "You always can, love. I always want to hear you, and I always want to see you." 

"I thought I--I thought perhaps--it might have been only..." Dream shook his head, giving up on putting it into words, but Hob didn't need him to spell it out; he'd worried himself that perhaps it was a problem that Dream only had him, only knew him. He'd known it was a good idea for Dream to go out into the world, even while he'd hated it. "But there is no one like you." 

"And no place like home?" Hob added lightly, because he couldn't not, even when he could see Dream's perfectly earnest expression, the steady dark intensity of his gaze.  

Dream snorted softly and put his hand over Hob's, pressing it to his cheek while he leaned in, closing the distance between them again.  

Hob started to tilt his head, ready to guide Dream into possibly his first kiss in a world where noses would not politely reshape themselves to stay out of the way, but Dream first pressed his forehead to Hob's, breathing deeply and saying nothing. Hob settled his other hand on Dream's cheek as well, keeping him close, breathing in for himself the reality of Dream here with him again, safe and sound and wanting to be here, of all the places in the world he might be exploring.  

"We should go inside," Dream murmured, and Hob just shivered at the secret sound of his voice before he made sense of the words.  

He tipped his head back to meet Dream's eyes, and found Dream smiling wryly. "I fear we may be carried away here on your front steps, otherwise." 

Hob dropped his hands to Dream's shoulders, where it was safe to grip as hard as he needed to while he let those words sink in, his whole body flashing hot at the possibilities. "Yeah. That's. Probably wise, yeah." 

Dream nodded, still smiling, and held up a familiar key. "Shall we?" 

Hob forced himself to drop his hands and turn to go back up the stairs. Dream followed him, close enough that Hob could almost feel him; when Hob turned the knob and realized that the door had in fact locked behind him, he had no time at all to be frustrated by it before Dream pressed up against his back, bringing his hands--and, crucially, his key--to join Hob's.  

"You gave me a key," Dream said, so close to Hob's ear that his lips brushed it, so deep and warm that Hob could drown in it. "You knew I would want to come home to you. And now here I am--" the key slid home, and Hob bit his lip to hold back a noise at that altogether unsubtle promise of things to come. "Coming home. To you. With you." 

Hob pushed the door open, but before stepping inside he asked, knowing it was ridiculous to hesitate, with Dream plastered up against him and hesitating anyway, "Will you tell me again tomorrow?" 

"I will tell you again every day," Dream said without hesitation. "Every time I come home to you, wherever that may be, it will always be you." 

"Right then," Hob said, and whirled in Dream's arms to kiss him as he stumbled back inside. Dream followed him, and didn't stop kissing him except to laugh when they staggered into a heap at the top of the inside stair. Hob tugged him back down into another kiss, and let Dream's voice echo in his ears a while longer.  

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Derpsheep; a fake cryptid and a real romantic. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Oh, baby bird,” Dick says sympathetically, trying not to laugh as Tim sulks at him. 

“Robin . . . BUSY,” Tim mutters sourly through his vocoder, otherwise pretending to be ignoring him as he makes yet another valiant but fruitless attempt at getting the “nest” he’s trying to construct in this crumbly warehouse safehouse to stay together. The attempt is very, very fruitless. Almost aggressively fruitless, in fact. 

“Didn’t Superboy say he’d make you a nest?” Dick asks pointedly, not bothering to use his own vocoder. No one else is around to hear; not even Bruce, right now. 

He’ll hear anyway, obviously–there’s a reason Dick left Gotham–but not the point. And anyway, “hearing” isn’t necessarily understanding, when it comes to Bruce. 

Tim ignores him. Dick raises an eyebrow behind his mask. 

“I’m pretty sure he did,” he says. “So you literally do not need to be doing this right now.” 

Tim hisses at him, then snatches up a few sad, brittle little sticks in his talons. Basically all the sticks he’s working with look sad and brittle, in fact. Dick isn’t really the outdoorsy type, but he’s pretty sure nests need to be made out of sticks that won’t instantly snap when woven together. 

Also the weaving part is probably necessary, which Tim does not seem to have realized yet. So . . . yeah, that’s a thing. 

Tim tries to prop his sad, brittle little sticks up against each other. He seems very frustrated, and way more invested in this totally unnecessary process than it makes sense for him to be. 

Alright then, Dick thinks, and carefully doesn’t comment when the propped-up sticks immediately collapse. Tim puts his face in his hands–well, his mask in his talons–and groans in frustration. 

“There, there,” Dick says lamely, patting his feathered shoulder. Tim shoots him a dirty look he can feel through the mask. 

“You suck,” Tim accuses sullenly. 

“I’m still pretty sure Superboy would do this for you,” Dick says. “Actually literally positive, in fact, since a nest cannot possibly be as time-consuming or complicated to make as, you know, a literal diamond.” 

“First of all, I can’t expect him to do all the work and just always be giving me stuff, that’s rude and dispectful and would be taking advantage of him,” Tim says in exasperation. Then he cringes badly enough that it’s visible through his entire suit and hides his face in his wings. “Also if he actually makes me a nest I will lose my mind over it and I need to keep, like, some scraps of dignity here.” 

“Right, of course,” Dick says, politely not mentioning anything he’s observed about the combination of Tim, his dignity, and his past crushes. It’s not gonna be helpful right now. Tim is clearly not in a place to hear it, if nothing else. Just very much not at all. “Okay, so what kind of nest are you trying to make?” 

“. . . a bird one?” Tim replies, sounding bewildered by the question. 

. . . Dick just . . . pats his shoulder again.

[bones4thecats]

Sorry, maybe you can do, Tfp Predacons x Predacon femme reader, where the Predacons compete for the reader's love

TFP! Predacons Fight for Predacon! S/O

Characters: POLY! Predaking, Darksteel, and Skylynx Requester: 🐻Anon A/N: I'll call you 🐻Anon just because I like bears and they fight more than a dove or dragon do (I use character emojis first, okay?!) Anyways, hope you like this!! ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: Just fluff <3 ⚠️ P.S: The Predacon! Reader is based on a Chimera (specifically two pieces of art I found on Quora and InCryptid Wiki)

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Predaking + Darksteel + Skylynx ═══════════════╝

🐉🐻🕊️ This was getting very annoying for you. You, as a fellow Predacon, understood that having a more rough-and-tumble personality was normal for your kind. But the way that these three were handling it was beyond you

🐉🐻🕊️ You were in your alt-mode, one resembling a 'Chimera' as Raf once said, just watching as the trio 'play fought'. But you of all beings understood that with each hit they laid on another another, they meant everything personally

🐉 You were closest with Predaking. He was created a little while before you, and since you both arrived to serve Megatron together, your bond was by-far the strongest out of all other Cybertronians you had met and befriended

🐉 Unknowingly to you, the self-proclaimed King of Predacons had begun to see as more than an ally and fellow Predacon. He began to see you as a potential sparkmate, not because of his dream of your kind rising back up, but because he loved you

🐻 Darksteel on the other hand, was a pain in your aft. He would constantly mess with your different appendages. And I mean that

🐻 This guy would sneak up behind you whenever you were resting and just randomly mess with your horns, serpent-like tail, and your hooves. And whenever he wouldn't stop, you would snap your deadly tail at him, which made him laugh, say bye, and fly off

🕊️ Finally, with Skylynx. He did not like you at first and the same went with you, you kinda hated him. Not as much as you did Megatron for keeping you hostage and trying to kill Predaking years prior, but it still wasn't a small hatred

🕊️ But, as time passed, you both grew to enjoy one another's company. You would fly by and talk about how you were on your last nerve with Darksteel and how you were so close to beating him to scrap-metal, much to the lighter-Predacon's amusement

🐉🐻🕊️ To sum it up; Predaking liked you because you grew together and were really close, Darksteel liked you because you could be kind-yet-deadly when provoked (entertaining), and Skylynx liked you because you shared some things in common yet were different enough to be fun around

🐉🐻🕊️ But, as you grew close with the trio, they began to notice how they treated you. Predaking would be around you the most, huddling up next to you in your alt-modes to recharge, Darksteel would play-fight and fly around with you, and Skylynx would spend more time talking and acting like best-friends with you

🐉🐻🕊️ Unfortunately for you that day, the three mechs all asked you observe their strengths and deem one the winner. You knew what they really wanted, they wanted you to watch them fight for dominance and pick one to bond with. That all leads you to now

🐉🐻🕊️ As they all put their full-potential into this fight, you heard an engine rumble behind you. You stood and saw that it was the Autobot you were closest to, Bulkhead, driving towards your form

"Bulkhead. It's nice to see you after a while." You said, a playful smirk coming on your face.

"Yeah, same to you, Y/N." He replied.

🐉🐻🕊️ Your smirk turned into a genuine smile as you sat back down, this time in your bipedal-mode and patted the spot next to you for him to sit down and speak

🐉🐻🕊️ Bulkhead sat down and looked as the three Predacons continued their fight, they tails, wings, or claws swinging left and right as they either dodged or got hit. He chuckled as you groaned in annoyance

"Now you know how Ultra Magnus felt whenever Jackie did something against his orders." He joked.

"I suppose."

🐉🐻🕊️ As you and Bulkhead spoke about the finalization on territories for the Autobots and Predacons, the mechs had finally narrowed themselves down to their final attacks. Darksteel and Skylynx attempted to hit Predaking, making him transform and pin them down with his large clawed-feet

"Well, I guess you have a winner now." Bulkhead announced, making you look up and down at the three mechs' final stance.

"I'm not surprised. He won against them last time, why would this time be any different?"

"Fair. Anyways, I should get going. Ultra Magnus said that he would bring by the territory-mapping for you guys to finalize in about a cycle, is that okay?"

"Yep. See you, Bulkhead!"

"See ya', Y/N!"

🐉🐻🕊️ You looked back at the guys and sighed, noticing how they were now beginning to wrestle on the ground, screaming about how they would win the spark of yours no matter what

🐉🐻🕊️ Rolling your optics, you transformed and began flying down to where they were before lifting your back legs, kicking Skylynx away, taking your claws and scratching Darksteel while punching him back before using your serpent-tail to grab Predaking and take him down to the floor before transforming once more

"Quit your bickering, you sound like a bunch of sparklings." You demanded.

🐉🐻🕊️ The three each groaned in pain as your tail swayed and and you walked away to where the remains of Team Prime were working, leaving the guys to heal themselves

"They like me best."

"They do not!"

"Yeah, they like me best, Skylynx!"

"Shut up, Darksteel!"