#to show time passing/that he kind of switches it up now and then. this is the 'been a little while since he applied the lipstick' look

[yanderemisery]

Unseen Patterns

Yandere Izuku Midoriya x reader

TW: stalking, unsettling behaviour.

You first met Izuku Midoriya during a power outage in your apartment building. The hallways were dark, lit only by the glow of emergency lights, and as you fumbled with your keys, he’d appeared behind you.

“You need help?” he’d asked, his voice low but steady. When you turned, the faint light caught his face: youthful, soft-spoken, and disarmingly ordinary.

He helped you unlock the door and handed you a small flashlight. “For next time,” he said with a faint smile before disappearing into the stairwell.

At first, you thought little of him. Just a helpful stranger. But Izuku didn’t stay a stranger for long.

He started showing up in small, unremarkable ways. You’d run into him at the coffee shop down the street. Then at the park where you went to clear your head. Once, you even saw him at your office building, a stack of papers in his arms as he explained to the receptionist that he was making a delivery.

He always noticed you first, offering a wave or a brief hello. You wondered why you always felt uneasy when he was near.

The oddities began small. A cup of tea left steaming on your desk at work when you hadn’t brought any. A playlist on your music app labeled For the Days You Feel Sad—songs you didn’t remember adding but that somehow matched your mood perfectly.

You dismissed it as coincidence until one day, walking home from work, you saw Izuku across the street. He didn’t wave this time. He didn’t even move. He just stood there, half-shrouded in shadow, staring.

You quickened your pace, heart pounding, and told yourself he’d just been distracted, maybe waiting for someone else. But the next morning, you found a note slipped under your apartment door.

“Don’t worry. I’ll always be here.”

Weeks passed. Izuku’s presence was a background hum, something you could almost ignore. Almost.

Everywhere you went, it seemed he’d just left. The barista at your coffee shop mentioned a quiet guy who’d paid for your drink. Your neighbor said a man with dark hair had asked about you, saying he’d found your keys. Even your boss commented on how “that nice courier” seemed to know exactly where to leave your packages, always on time.

And then there was the package that arrived with no return address. Inside was a book you’d lost months ago, dog-eared to a page you’d once marked but forgotten. Scribbled in the margins, in neat handwriting, was a single line: “I knew you’d come back to this.”

The breaking point came one night when you woke to the faint sound of tapping. At first, you thought it was your window—branches brushing the glass, perhaps. But then you realized it was coming from inside.

You froze, straining to hear. The tapping continued, irregular and faint, like someone running their fingers along the walls.

Gathering your courage, you stepped into the hallway and flicked on the lights. The sound stopped instantly, and the silence was deafening. You checked the locks, every door and window, but nothing was out of place.

The next morning, as you reached for your keys, you found something scratched into the wall near your door. It was so faint you might’ve missed it, but when you ran your fingers over it, you could feel the grooves:

“I see you.”

Izuku never admitted to anything. He remained polite, helpful, always ready with a kind word or a quiet smile. But the smile lingered just a little too long. His eyes tracked you like he was memorizing every detail.

And then one day, he stopped appearing.

For the first time in months, you felt free. You changed your locks, moved apartments, even switched jobs. But every so often, something would remind you of him: a book misplaced on a shelf, a faint outline of footprints by your window.

You told yourself it was paranoia, the remnants of a bad memory.

Until you received a single text from an unknown number:

“You’re safe now. I promise.”

[vaguely-concerned]

this is approximately what rye ingellvar (they/he, transmasc) looks like btw

I have spent more time with the dragon age: the veilguard character creator than I have with some quite dear and treasured real life family members, but I think it paid off eventually. look. it's my little guy. my crypt baby babyboy. a watcher to watch

(their hair should be much curlier and cut a little differently (it falls more forward and on one side when released from its bonds than any of the actual veilguard hairs and is short in the back), but overall the design is pretty close to what I wanted!)

feat. corvid bae being dragged along to the depths of the necropolis once again to attend Double Bones with Doctor(s) Skelebones with the Mourn Watch lads, but he can't even really be annoyed about it because hanging out with rook keeps proving so infuriatingly fun even when he goes in determined to remain glum lol

[moonsgemini]

cherry wine - firefighter!rafe

* ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ ⋅

summary: who knew career day would involve a hot sexy mustached firefighter wanting to take you on a date.

warnings: teacher!reader x firefighter!rafe, mutual pining, fluff, a little self doubt, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, talk of sex but no smut

an: that pic is how I picture firefighter!rafe, I don’t think I need to elaborate any more. title will make more sense in the second part, hope you all enjoy!! & yes this will be a part 2 of the date hehehe. I did not proof read this so my bad

masterlist - part two

* ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ₊˚ ⋅

This day could not end sooner. I had been the most chaotic day trying to consistently wrangle a bunch of nine year olds. It was the third grade’s career day at the school you taught at.

The day has been filled with moving from station to station and learning about new careers. Some were a little more interesting than others. It was hard to get the kids to leave the lizard wrangler but they didn’t care much for the optometrist.

Some of the lovely volunteers were kind enough to provide treats for the kids which only made their energy sky rocket. It was your first year teaching and even though you felt confident in your abilities to handle the kids you still tripped up a bit. A kid scraped his knee running from the hair stylist to the park ranger. You were a bit busy untangling a brush out another students hair to tell him not to run. It had been a lot.

Now it was nearing closer to the bell ringing and your weekend starting. You were definitely going to need a drink after today. Career day led up to the fire department coming and showing the kids every tool, button, and switch on their trucks. It would give you and your fellow teachers some time to relax as they all sat around the parking lot waiting for them to arrive.

“You survive today?” Martha asked as she stood next to you. The two of you started at this school together, both being first time teachers. That alone strengthened the immediate bond you had with the curly haired woman.

You let out a tired laugh, “Barely, you?”

She nodded, “Barely.”

You looked around briefly to make sure students weren’t listening to you two, “Winnie’s tonight?”

She grinned happily, “Thought you’d never ask. I could use a drink or ten.”

“Agreed.” You nodded.

That’s when you all spotted the two trucks approaching. The kids started to cheer and scream as they honked.

Martha leaned in to murmur, “At least we get to end the day with hot men with mustaches.”

That’s when it hit you. You hadn’t even thought about that all day. Now your hair was a mess and your light makeup all practically gone.

“I didn’t even think about that. I look like a mess,” You muttered.

“Oh please you look good. Even after wrangling twenty five children all day.”

You nudged her with a grin. The trucks parked in front of the students and the firefighters began filing out. The principal stood in front introducing them and what they were going to do.

Martha was right. Hot fireman indeed. There were six guys and they all began introducing themselves. You tried your hardest to pay attention to each one and watch your kids, but it was hard when one particular firefighter stood out.

He looked younger than the rest with his bleached hair and untrimmed mustache. His biceps bulged in his navy tee shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. He looked so big and broad you wanted to melt. His eyes scanned the crowd as the guy next to him began introducing himself. That’s when his eyes passed you and did a double take. At least that’s what you hoped that was. He made eye contact with you and a small smirk began forming on his lips. Not looking away as your face began to heat up from his stare.

You looked away briefly as your nerves bubbled. When you looked back he was still looking at you and that smirk had gotten wider. Even when it was his turn to introduce himself he didn’t look away.

“Hi everyone I’m Rafe, I’ve been a firefighter for three years now. I also help train the new fire dogs to be able to help us out when we need them,” He finished giving the crowd a big smile. He finally looked away from you as he rubbed his mustache.

-

The presentation was supposed to be and hour but it somehow felt like five minutes. Probably because you couldn’t look away from someone in particular. He was just so handsome. The way his back muscles tightened and arms bulged as he picked things up had you feeling butterflies in places you didn’t know were possible.

This was not like you to get so dumbstruck by a man. You should know better that attractive fireman should not be trusted. But damn was he good to look at.

Rafe was grateful that he had decided to sign up to volunteer for career day at the schools. He liked seeing how excited kids got at their job so he was doing it solely for that. He didn’t expect to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. At first he thought the teachers were all going to be his mom’s age older, but nope. He had been very wrong.

As him and the guys went through their presentation he couldn’t help but glance over at her any chance he got.

Even the mom’s who arrived early to get a glimpse of them weren’t enough to distract him. Even after first setting his eyes on her he knew he was going to do everything in his power to talk to her.

-

The firefighters stayed until all the kids had been picked up so they didn’t get stuck in the after school traffic. Rafe was thankful they didn’t get a call either or else he would have missed his chance. He looked over to where you were waving goodbye to your last student of the day and saw his open window.

He pat Javier on the back leaving him to wind up the hose himself, “Be right back.”

He stood up with a furrowed brow, “Of course Cameron.” He muttered as he said the blonde stride over to the pretty teacher.

You were texting Martha as you began walking to your class to see if she was already at Winnies. She had gotten out earlier as all her students were picked up already. You didn’t notice the broad man that approached you.

“Hi, can I walk you back to your class?” You looked up slightly startled.

Were you hallucinating because of the heat? Why was this big tall handsome stranger talking to you? You looked around to see if he was talking to someone else.

“Me?” You pointed at yourself with a questioning look.

His smirk widened, “Yeah, it’s really dangerous out here to be walking alone.” He teased.

You laughed, “Right um yeah sure.”

“Lead the way,” He said as he put his hands in his pockets.

“Your guys presentation was really good, the kids loved it. I already know they’re not going to shut up about it next week,” You laughed brushing hair behind your ear. You felt like a teenager again with a crush.

He smiled, “Thanks. Hopefully inspired some future firefighters. I’ve been doing it for a couple years now, is this your first year teaching?”

You were surprised he even thought about that, “Yeah actually it is.”

“I knew I’d remember that face if I’d seen you before,” Rafe wasn’t one to hold back with his flirting. When he knew what he wanted he would do anything in his power to get it. His career choice definitely helps him out a bit.

You coughed a surprised laugh, “Oh I- uh this is me,” you stuttered out as you got to your classroom. You weren’t used to men being so forward. They usually danced around compliments like they wanted you to work for it before earning one.

He opened the door for you, “I’m Rafe by the way,” He held his big hand out for you to shake. He took your much smaller hand in his as you told him your name. The heat of having his attention never leaving your cheeks.

“Are you doing anything tonight? I’d love to see you outside of work,” He leaned against the door casually. As he folded his arms over his chest they looked even bigger. You’re surprised there’s no drool dripping down your chin.

“No uh well yes I am, I’m meeting my friend Martha. She was standing next to me during the assembly. We’re going to Winnie’s if you’d like to join. Or not it’s fine if you don’t and you changed your mind or something,” You cleared your throat as you finished rambling.

That smirk turning into a wide grin, “I’ll see you there. Maybe I’ll bring one of the guys with me.”

She nodded with a smile, “That’d be great, I’m sure Martha would appreciate that.”

“I’ll see you then,” He winked subtly and walked back out. That smug grin still on his face.

-

“You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had!” Martha exclaimed as you finished telling her about your conversation with the hot firefighter.

You laughed, “I didn’t even do anything, god he’s so hot I hope I don’t embarrass myself.” You looked back at the entrance to the bar to see if he was here yet.

“You won’t. He probably loves the whole cute young elementary teacher thing,” Marth said as she took a sip of her cocktail.

“I don’t wanna be that though. I want to be a hot sexy woman,” You sighed dramatically.

When you got to winnies you spent about 10 minutes in your car fixing your smudged makeup and messy hair. You really wished career day didn’t put you through the ringer. You even changed into a random top that was in the backseat because the tee shirt you were wearing wasn’t doing you justice.

It had been almost an hour and they still hadn’t shown up. You had begun to feel disappointed that maybe he was just all talk. Maybe he did that to every new teacher at the schools he went to. But to save yourself the self pity you thought maybe he got a call and had to work. That was the most reasonable explanation. At least that’s what you told yourself.

“They probably got busy. Saving lives or something,” Martha waved off as she finished her second drink. You were also currently on your second and your feet were feeling fuzzy so you were cutting yourself off. You’d probably end up going home after the buzz wore off.

You tried not to show how disappointment flowed through you, “Yeah probably. Guess it was too go-“ you cut yourself off as you saw the door open and a head of bleach blonde hair came through. Your eyes widened and look away quickly.

“Ohmygod he’s here,” you mumbled to Martha. He hasn’t seen you yet.

She smiled, “Is the friend hot?”

You looked over and that’s when you met his eye. Rafe was already looking at you. He smirked and began walking over with a guy to a similar build as him walked behind him.

“Yes and they’re coming,” You said quickly as you cleared your throat.

“Hello ladies,” Rafe smirked as he approached.

You smiled softly, “Hey,”

Rafe thought you were pretty before but now in this setting you looked unreal. He was so glad he signed up for career day.

“This is Josh,” He nodded towards the brunette next to him.

You smiled politely at him, “Hi Josh. I’m y/n and this is Martha,” You looked over at her, “Martha, Rafe.”

They greeted each other as the guys sat down. Having Rafe so close to you was making you a bit dizzy. The alcohol wasn’t helping that either.

“What are you drinking?” Rafe asked you nodding towards your drink.

“Oh I was having gin and pineapple juice but I think I’m done for the night,” You admitted sheepishly.

He smiled teasingly, “Well wish I could have made it earlier to actually have that drink with you.”

You thought about it for a minute, “I guess I could have one more with you. I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“You sure about that? You’re okay with just straight tequila shots?”

Your eyes widened muttering, “Geez maybe you will be drinking alone.”

He laughed, “In that case I guess we’ll just have a beer?” He said more as a question wanting to make sure that was okay with you.

You pretended to think for a minute humming, “Hmmm fine with me. Except no IPA’s,” you said making a face

“Yes ma’am,” He nodded getting up from the high table.

Across from you Josh was getting Martha’s drink order and you could already tell he liked her. The way he leaned in as if he couldn’t hear her despite the bar not being loud yet. You looked over at the bar where Rafe stood waiting for a bartender. He looked so good leaning over the bar. The muscles of his back flexing under the navy shirt. You couldn’t be more grateful for career day.

-

Rafe was oh so screwed. He was liking this third grade teacher a little too much. He had never felt so attracted to someone. Not just physically. He loved how animated you were when you talked, always using your hands. The passion in your eyes when you spoke about your class was admirable.

It was a done deal that you weren’t going to just be a hook up. No way would Rafe think about letting you out of his grasp. You were so soft and sweet, he can already imagine just how sweet you taste.

He knew it wasn’t one sided either. He saw the way you watched him as he told childhood stories and how he became a firefighter. You didn’t look at him like some hero the way most women did but you looked at him like you were proud of him. It made this weird feeling in his chest bloom. But he loved that look in your eye.

Whatever dance you two had been playing the last hour was starting to wear him thin. He wanted to touch you. Not even in a sexual way but he wanted to tuck that piece of hair behind your ear or give your thigh a reassuring squeeze every time you thought you were rambling. Rafe wanted to hear you go on and on about everything.

Throughout the night your chairs had slowly started to scoot closer to each other. Then your arms started brushing each other. Even the small contact set his skin on fire. The need in his bones growing.

You would dare to move a muscle once your skin touched he was so warm and as you looked over his bicep was just beghing to be bitten. The alcohol was helping your brain wander to that place you only visited at night alone in your bed.

As was telling a story about his vacation in Italy your eyes couldn’t help but wander back over to those biceps that had you drooling when you first saw him. He had his arms crossed over the table. Muscles flexing as he picked up his beer bottle and took a sip. The way his neck moved as he swallowed had you clenching your thighs. You wondered what his skin would taste like. You also wanted to know what it’d feel like to be wrapped in those biceps as he held you up while pou-

“You good?” Rafe asked lowering his head to your gaze. A teasing smirk on his lips.

Your doe eyes looked up at him, “Uh huh.” Way to play it cool.

He chuckled, “What were you thinking about?” You hadn’t noticed that Martha and Josh had gotten up and walked over to the dart board across the bar. Now leaving the two of you alone. The bar had gotten more crowded now and

You shook your head fighting the heat creeping up your spine, “Nothing really.”

“Yeah?” He leaned in closer, “I bet we were thinking about the same thing.”

You swallowed hard trying to use as much of that liquid courage as possible, “Then tell me what you’re thinking and I’ll let you know if you’re right.”

He liked that playful look in your eye, “Well I was thinking about soft your thighs would feel on my cheeks.”

Your eyes widened. Maybe you really weren’t expecting him to be honest. But that truth had you fidget in your seat as that warm feeling in your stomach blossomed.

“I guess we were then,” You hum.

“Mhmm,” He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “And what should we do about that sweetheart?”

“I-I” And just like that you had lost your cool. This insanely attractive, funny, smart guy wanted to get into your pants. Hot guys with all those personality traits come once in a blue moon and you were fumbling.

He laughed raising a hand to your shoulder brushing your hair back. His fingertips grazing your exposed collarbone. The light touch making goosebumps rise on your skin. You wanted to lean into his touch but before you could he pulled away, “Let me take you out. Just you and me.”

“Really?” You were a bit dumbfounded. It’s not like you thought he was going to be a bad guy but a part of you had prepared for a one time hook up kind of guy. Which you didn’t mind at first because well it had been almost a year since anyone has met your needs. You weren’t going to turn down sex with a hot firefighter so you’re definitely not turning down a date with one. But you couldn’t help but be curious as to why.

He nodded, “Of course. You’re beautiful, sweet, funny, smart, passionate. I really could go on but I’ll save that for our date.”

You huffed out an amused laugh, “Okay yeah I’d love to go on a date. Assuming this doesn’t count?”

He shook his head with a frown, “I’d never do this for a first date, especially not for someone like you. I’ll treat you right y/n don’t you worry.”

That heat was back again, “You say this to all the women you meet at on career day?”

He smirked, “Just the ones I can’t stop thinking about. Which has only happened with you.”

His reassurances ignited something in you. The feeling of being wanted was something you hadn’t felt in a while and you really liked it. You really liked who was making you feel wanted.

“So how would you treat me Rafe?”

God. He loved the sound of his name coming out of your mouth. He wanted to hear you say it in so many scenarios. Specifically ones where you’re naked.

His knee bumped hers under the table, “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at six and show you exactly what I’d do.”

[indulgentdaydream]

protective!jason hcs or blurb 🥰

Ok so I kinda touched on these in my latest fic but anyways i WILL elaborate bc those were just background

We all know that man is touch starved. We ALL know it.

We also all know he’s hesitant with sharing touch

It’s only once you both have been dating for a bit already, maybe three months in, that he really starts to show his protectiveness through his touch

Or at least when you notice it

He’s always at least holding your hand as you guys walk around Gotham. Depending on exactly whereabouts in Gotham is when he changes whether he’s between you and the road, or you and the alleyways.

You watched him change it up one time halfway through your shared walk, him letting go of your left hand, stepping behind you and around to grab your right instead.

“Oh? So you want me to get hit by a car and die?”

Jason only keeps his eyes on the passing buildings and the ones coming up, “The chance of that is much lower than somebody trying to mug you in this area, love.”

One day you’re both out at the bar together. He’s sitting on a stool behind you as you babble to oke of yours friends.

From over their shoulder, you see a man approaching, but don’t think anything of it.

Suddenly, you see the man stop in his tracks, freezing. You glance over at him. He looks terrified. He glances at you, his original target, then behind you again. He spins on his heel and walks back the way he came.

You look behind you, feeling Jason’s hand still resting on your hip. You almost feel a little scared yourself, seeing that killer glare that Jason’s pointing at the guy’s back.

He switches immediately the second he looks down to you, a soft smile and kind eyes, not a hint of the previous bloodlust a mere second ago. “What?” He asks, like watching his expression change wasn’t the biggest turn on in the world.

You’re sitting in your apartment at your desk typing away on your laptop. You’re trying to file your taxes, and Jason had come over to help you with it (surprisingly he knows how even though he’s still legally dead at this point and hasn’t had to pay any taxes. Ever.)

He had stood and was wondering around your room a bit while he waited for you to fill the next part out. You can hear shuffling, but you’re too focused to tune into it.

“Jay? What does this line mean?”

Jason grunts for a moment and you hear your window slide open.

You turn back around, “Jay?”

“One second.” He shuts your window again. You watch as he fiddles with the lock before easily sliding the window back open. He throws his hands in the air and looks at you. “How long have you lived here?”

You shrug, confused, “You helped me move in.”

Jason waves his hand through the air, “When?”

“Almost a year? Last November.”

Jason fiddles with the window again, slamming it back down, “This lock doesn’t work. You been sleeping in here and anyone could’ve just broken in?”

You shrug again, “I didn’t know it was broken! I don’t really lock my window often.”

Jason looks like he almost broke his neck by how fast his head whipped back to you, “You don’t lock your window????”

He finishes your taxes for you before he leaves, saying he’ll be back. Within the hour he’s knocking on your door again, a duffle bag in hand full of power tools, screws, and different assortments of heavy duty locks. He spends the rest of the night installing them.

A new one on your bedroom window that actually consisted of two different locks. A similar two on your kitchen window. Another three on your bedroom door itself. Then four on your front door.

As he leaned over your kitchen sink, screwing in the lock and blocking your way as you tried to make you both dinner.

“Is this really necessary?”

“I’m not having you practically open to every bad thing the city has to offer, love.”

“Then how are you going to come in through my window now?”

“I’ll learn to knock.”

That’s all I can think of right now okay byeee

[1mlei]

Dead on Main Soulmate AU [Part 1]

Everyone has a soulmate. They can be either romantic or platonic, and the intensity of the bond varies, but everyone has a soulmate.

According to every person that has met their soulmate, the feeling of finally finding your special someone is unmistakable.

But to help you along, everyone is also born with a tiny red heart tattooed on the inside of their wrist. The heart beats if you're close to your soulmate, and when you meet them the tattoo turns golden.

It is also known, that when your soulmate dies the heart fades to black, and won't ever beat again.

Now insert Danny and Jason into this scenario.

This turned sadder than I intended it to be :')

-------

Next part | Masterpost

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Danny has a heart on his wrist like everyone else, and he has all but confirmed that his soulmate doesn't live in Amity, which he's secretly very happy about.

The thing is, Danny dies when he's 14 years old. Sure he comes back to life afterwards, but the damage is done. He'd looked into it to make sure, there are cases of someone very briefly passing away before being resuscitated. In each of these cases, their soulmate's tattoo would fade to black, regardless if they had met or not.

Danny knows that his soulmate believes him to be dead, and there's nothing he can do about it. He doesn't know what will happen when they meet, will the heart shift or stay black? Any reports he could find online about the subject didn't delve into what happens beyond the heart fading.

As for Danny's own tattoo, it remains mostly unaffected by his death. There is a fascinating side-effect of the heart changing from red to green when he goes ghost, most probably because he stops relying on his heart, switching to his core, which runs on ectoplasm.

But that aside, Danny doesn't notice a difference. His heart is still it's regular old red colour whenever he's human.

There's nothing he can do about any of it until he actually meets his soulmate, so until then it's a waiting game.

--------

Jason was 13 years old when his soulmate died.

It had been a regular afternoon, he was hidden away in the manor's library with a big stack of books he was planning to plough through.

It happened as he was simply turning a page. The red heart on his wrist caught his eye, and he froze in terror.

It just turned to black.

It didn't fade like what people have described, oddly enough. Instead, it flickered back and forth between red and black, as if unsure where to settle, before it stopped and stayed firmly black.

Jason just sat there, refusing to take his eyes off his tattoo.

That was where Alfred found him hours later, after the sun had set and the natural light in the library consisted solely of the dim glow from the moon.

The butler had originally sought out the boy to inquire about his absence at dinner, but could tell at a glance that something was very wrong. He approached carefully.

"Master Jason? Is everything quite alright?"

Jason numbly turned his head up to look at Alfred. He looked at the man that was always there when he needed him, even when Jason was damn sure he didn't deserve it.

He looked into the kind eyes of the man that had become like a grandfather to him, and he finally stopped holding back.

He wept silently, allowing his eyes to let out the tears he had been holding back. The tears flowed down his face, and had anyone other than his grandfather Alfred been watching he would have been embarrassed by the pitiful sniffling sound he let out as he wiped at his tear-stained cheeks with the back of his hand.

He wordlessly held out his wrist, showing the now firmly pitch-black heart stamped there.

The moment Alfred laid eyes on the tattoo his heart clenched, the older man feeling a pain that was beyond words with the realization of what his grandson was going through this early in his life. He quickly reached out and held Jason in a tight embrace.

For the first time in many, many decades he felt incapable of fulfilling his job.

After all, how do you comfort a child that has just had their one special person, their other half, cruelly ripped away from them before they even got to lay eyes on each other?

"I'm so sorry my boy."

As much as he loathed it, the words were all Alfred had to offer.

He wanted to curse the world, for doing this to the poor boy. Yet all he found himself able to do was silently pray for a miracle, that this wouldn't be the boy's fate.

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Next part | Masterpost

[bananapeeeeellssss]

I see your Bruce Wayne is dating Batman rumors and raise you this:

Everyone knows that Bruce Wayne is dating Batman. Everyone knows that Jason Todd is Red Hood. Everyone knows that Jason Todd is Bruce Wayne’s dead son. Everyone knows Red Hood hates Batman. This is all a very open secret. Everyone knows Tim Drake and Red Robin have a very public beef with one another. And that Red Hood used to have a very public (but much more violent) beef with the third Robin.

This leads to the general accepted truth being that Red Hood hates Batman because he is fucking his dad, and Tim Drake and Red Robin dislike each other because Tim’s brother beat up Red Robin, and, once again, Red Robin’s dad is fucking Tim’s. Everyone feels a little bad for Red Robin, being at the end of both Red Hood’s and Tim Drake’s distaste, because the former is a crime lord and the latter is *Timothy Jackson Drake*.

This, naturally, reaches the JL whom does not know Batman’s identity yet. Green Arrow makes a passing comment about having also fucked Wayne, which Batman overhears. Cue absolute bat confusion, which he does not show. And that was how the great Batman found out that he accidentally 100% enforced the rumors that he was dating himself by the way he replied to reporters strange questions that in hindsight were so incredibly obvious.

This whole time, Young Justice is having the time of their lives (while also becoming increasingly concerned) as they watch Tim switch between devices as he replies to himself on different accounts on Twitter to further his own feud with Red Robin.

And Jason is. Not sure how he feels. On one hand, Bruce is now very uncomfortable about many, many things. And people yell at Batman when he starts treating Jason like his son (especially when he yells “I’m not your son!” Because what kind of boyfriend would try to make their boyfriend’s kid their own when they clearly don’t want to be). That’s an upside. But on the other, this implies that he is *Bruce’s* son. And that brings up a lot of feelings he doesn’t want to deal with. And back on that first hand, people have mostly stopped making thirst traps of his dad (gross). And on the second once more, they have started shipping Red Robin and Tim.

And the others are just sitting back and enjoying the ride (they are absolutely a part of this, but I’m too lazy to type out and come up with ideas for the rest)

[hxnbi]

⸻ °♡⃘ . WIND BREAKER BOYS AS ROMANCE TROPES (PART TWO)

pairings. togame jo, kaji ren, hiragi toma, suo hayato, sugishita kyotaro x gn. reader

part one

TOGAME JO + second chance at love

Oh boy, this is a messy one. Past traumas and experiences had scarred Togame's soul, his heart guarded by walls built from old wounds. And when you initially entered his life and captured his heart, he was hesitant, afraid of repeating the pain he had once endured. He was a coward of a man, and he knew it, but that only made it easier for him to break it off that day—from you completely. Yet, your patience and kindness slowly began to chip away at his defences. 

You and Togame had a secret relationship as middle school sweethearts before breaking it off. At the time, it was mutual, one with no hard feelings. But it was a hard pill to swallow when Togame realized; you were unhappy with this relationship. You were unhappy with him. Back then, Togame didn't understand how you truly felt—that this relationship would never last—especially since his obsession with fights clouded his vision, pushing you away from him. He was devastated, but when he saw you again, with that same angelic smile that he cherished in his memory, it was all over. Just like the first day he met you, it was the same feeling all over again, and then going to rekindle your relationship years down the road.

“Jo… is that you?”

The second he heard that familiar voice, he turned around to see you standing there. You were there. Right there. Before his very eyes. Your eyes met, and it was like no time had passed at all, the memories flooding back in an instant.

You had changed, and beautifully so, inside and out. You have grown more attractive with age, but as a person, you were just as genuine and kind as when he last saw you. 

Togame couldn’t help but smile—a genuine, heartfelt smile that he hadn’t worn in years. He approached you slowly, almost cautiously, as if afraid that you might vanish if he moved too quickly. But you were real, standing there with that same beautiful smile that had haunted his dreams.

“Hi, uh. It's, it’s been a while.”

“It has,” you replied, nodding your head and walking just a bit closer. “How have you been?”

“I’ve missed you,” he blurted, making your eyes slightly widen.

Seeing you again stirred an awful feeling in his chest—something in Togame that he thought he had lost forever when he saw you leave that day. The time apart had been long and lonely, but when he stood directly face to face with you, he realized that his feelings for you had never truly faded away.

He wanted to make things right, to show you that he understood now, that he could be the person you needed. And with you, he found the courage to love again, to open his heart to the possibility of happiness—and having all that with you—the person he almost lost if it weren’t for your kindness. And for that, he would pay it back tenfold. He wouldn’t let you slip away again. To make up for the lost time. Perhaps a reminder that it’s never too late to heal and find joy in life. And just like the first time, he was smitten. Togame fell in love with you a second time, and this time, he’s not letting you go so easily.

KAJI REN + enemies to lovers

Do I even need to explain this one? With how Kaji is, his stoic, brooding character, it's no wonder how he initially got into this situation with you. Particularly, slow-burn enemies to lovers. It’s a cliche, yes, but a timeless one. The typical trope of going from enemies that despise one another to slowly falling in love. 

You both were each other's rival and, essentially, each other's challenge, constantly fueling the need to one-up each other, giving brooding looks from across the room. Kaji, though initially quiet to the casual passerby, can also be a loud, boisterous prick when the headphones come off and his competitive streak switches on like a light. You and Kaji could never be in the same room without arguing, making even the likes of Kusumi sweatdrop, inwardly debating if he should step in or let this so-called “shouting conversation” continue to happen organically. He chose the latter.

Unlike the tension and physical attraction out of a love-at-first-sight romance, or a mutual appreciation and friendship between "friends to lovers,” you and Kaji only come to fall in love after accepting each other's differences, flaws, and frustrations. Seeing past the rivalry, acknowledging each other's faults, and realizing they have a good side. And you two were no different from this. Amidst the clash of fiery tempers, a softer side began to bloom. Plenty a time, Kaji would mutter the same statement, “I hate you,” insisting directly to your face with utter snide that he does not like you around him, but in reality, Kaji actually just hates the fact he cares about you so much and can’t get himself to admit it.

From it all, the heated exchanges, each others withering glares, and sharp resorts, something unexpected began to grow. Well, Umemiya would beg to differ, being the first and only one who noticed it all along. After all, when Kaji was with you, everything just felt real. Natural. Organic. That he didn’t need to act when around you. Regardless, it didn’t stop the arguments that rolled in like storm clouds before a downpour. 

All the tension in the world between you and Kaji, initially rooted in animosity, would slowly—and I mean slowly, transform into a different kind of intensity. Kaji has—in his eyes—only seen the bad and the ugly in you (supposably) yet can't seem to distance himself away from you. All the times you got under his skin—and the other way around—would be all he thought about. And only then did he realize that you were always on his mind.

When he’s really seen it all at this point and still can't let you go, Kaji can no longer deny it.

….

Huh?

…Were you hearing things? Kaji, the guy who never backed down from an argument, confessed to you? Was he being serious...?

“Don’t look at me like I’m some kind of alien.”

“W-WHA— Well then you stop saying weird stuff like that out of nowhere!!!”

Perhaps maybe, just maybe, love can emerge from the most unlikely of places.

HIRAGI TOMA + forbidden love

Toma Hiragi was a person whose entire life was entangled with gangs, and with that, secrets galore. He was a member of Bofurin, and one of Bofurin’s Four Heavenly Kings no less. So, needless to say, Hiragi held a reputation.

His day was always filled one way or another with the demands of the gang and his duties of being a high-ranking, respectable member of Furin, leaving him little time for personal matters. That, while thrilling in some ways, it also came with its own fair share of risks.

Being involved meant being in constant danger and having to keep an eye, not just for himself but for anyone he cared about. 

Hiragi knew that revealing your relationship with him (being friends with a delinquent like him) would surely paint a target on your back, as many rival gangs harboured grudges against Furin. If they couldn’t get to Hiragi, they would surely come for you. And while your naive self didn't know, Hiragi liked you more than just a friend, and he wasn’t going to sacrifice your safety for his selfishness.

His love for you was a secret he held close to his heart—a trope of forbidden love—but it wasn't for the judgment of other people, but for him to keep far away from you. Hiragi loves you, he always has, even if it meant keeping you at arm’s length. Yet, the more you tried to resist, the stronger your feelings grew. 

Toma Hiragi was the embodiment of everything you—the everyday person—were supposed to avoid. But despite the risk, Hiragi couldn't help but sneak in phone calls and hang out with you during rare moments of free time—to him, it was a sanctuary to get away from the chaos of his life and to spend time with you and you only. It was during times like these that calmed him, refreshed him. He could feel at peace, resting his head on your shoulder as you ran your fingers through his thick, dirty-blonde hair.

Hiragi constantly struggled with the guilt of potentially putting you in danger, and his fears were only amplified when, that night, he received that call. You were nearly attacked by a rival gang that night, and Hiragi’s heart nearly stopped. The second the news reached his ear, Hiragi rushed to your side, wrapping you in a tight hug, his body trembling.

“T-Toma—?”

“Oh god, you scared the shit out of me…” he whispered, his voice cracking. Fuck it. Fuck it all. He couldn’t let this charade go on.

“I can’t lose you.”

Hiragi’s life as a gangster made him believe that it was nearly impossible to maintain a relationship. Yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to let you go. It might’ve been “forbidden,” but in his heart, you were the only one who mattered. It only made it all the more intoxicating. A love that was worth every risk.

SUO HAYATO + secret admirer

He is a mysterious, enigmatic fellow. That fact is for sure. Many would assume Suo would never engage in romance or pursue a romantic partner, but they are sorely mistaken. After all, not everything directly revealed to the human eye is always the truth. But then again, no one could ever really tell what kind of twisted nonsense went on in Suo’s brain, or even that patched eye of his.

From the beginning, when Suo saw you in that cafe, drinking tea by yourself, looking out at the window, he, for better or for worse, was intrigued. Even if he wanted to focus on the task at hand, his eyes would be directed back at you. Daily after day, you would be there, and so would be. It was his favourite cafe spot (that he kept hidden from the rest at Furin, of course). Suo keeps tabs on you and watches over everyone with a careful eye, whether that be your daily routines, favourite hangout spots, or even your subtle expressions. He is always present, even when you least expect it.

For days, sometimes weeks, Suo silently observes. It takes him a while, but when Suo finally decides to approach and talk to you, he does so with a natural ease that blatantly disguises the countless hours he spent planning his every move, making that you were comfortable around him—unlike the havoc that is his chaotic so-called friends in Furin.

To you, Suo might just be a mere charismatic stranger who randomly stumbled into your life, but in reality, it's so much more than what anyone could've thought in even the most dramatic of television dramas. Suo has been around for far longer than you ever expected, protecting you from the shadows. He knows that you deserve to feel safe, and he’s willing to ensure that, no matter the cost. He’s your protector, your secret admirer, always there, always watching, and always caring, even if you don’t realize it (because you don't). Suo may be extremely charming and even perhaps a bit too direct to the eyes of many, but those who know him best are few and far between. 

Most will never know what is truly underneath his calm facade, but loyalty to that degree is rare, and it is surprising for him to be so interested in a fellow individual who is merely living their plain everyday life. But after all, he is still human. The thought of revealing his true feelings scares him. Perhaps, one day, just maybe, Suo may confess his underlying feelings for you.

Either that or you catch onto his stares yourself. It’s not like Suo particularly tries to hide it.

If you find out, then it only makes it easier for him to tease you about it.

SUGISHITA KYOTARO + grumpy x sunshine

An utter stone of a boy who wears a baseline expression of irritation, but as luck would have it, to the surprise of nearly everyone, he would go onto fall in love with sunshine personified, someone with no cares in the world, you.

And beneath it all, revealed a shy, hopeless romantic who is finally feels able to reckon with the truth. But also being a person who would rather slam face-first onto concrete than admit his true feelings, and this, without a doubt, made things complicated. Quite literally. Sugisthia doesn't say a damn word.  He was the epitome of grumpiness, as Hiragi would often tease, with a perpetual scowl that could scare off anyone who dared to get too close. Where he saw dark and stormy clouds, you found silver linings and a rainy day to behold. Where he grumbled, you laughed and pulled him along.

Normally, Sugishita doesn’t like to utter a word, as communicating with him is practically akin to talking to a brick wall, but with you, it just felt so natural. Or rather, to the surprise of everyone, you understood every nonverbal communication and body language cue he gave. At first, he found your cheerfulness infuriating—the way you would light up a room with your presence, but over time, he couldn’t help but become used to and even enjoy having your presence around. Your dynamic was a perfect balance—his quiet strength complemented by your positive and warm spirit. 

From the eyes of many who would catch you two together, they didn't believe it was real. Him? Sugishita Kyotaro? The guy who was practically head over heels for Umeymia for years on end, falling in love with someone else? Being intimate with another person other than Umemiya? Was this some sort of dream? No. While shocking, it was also endearing in a way. Sugishita was, admittedly, very attached to Umemiya. Even so, one thing was undeniable, you brought out a side of Sugishita that no one had ever seen before—a side that smiled, laughed, and even showed a bit of vulnerability. He is a grumpy, reserved person, but under that snide, he was a warm, caring person. Umemiya would almost certainly tell you that when your relationship first began. And in that regard, he couldn't have been more correct.

And to those who knew him well, it was clear. Sugishita Kyotaro was hopelessly in love, even if he was too stubborn to say it out loud.

Sugishita wouldn’t ever admit it, but even he is well aware of the light you add to not only his life but the impact you’ve had on others as well. He wouldn't have it any other way, even if it doesn't always seem like he’s acknowledged the effect you've had on him.

©hxnbi. comments, reblogs, and likes are always appreciated ♡

[sluttywonwoo]

hypnos

hypnos, the personification of sleep in greek myth. according to legend, he was promised the hand in marriage of hera's daughter, pasithea, in exchange for a favor...

pairing: vernon chwe x f reader

summary: most nights your husband sleeps peacefully beside you, but lately his dreams have made him restless.

warnings: swearing, arranged marriage, mommy issues, angst, alcohol, family planning discussions (no actual pregnancy!), smut (18+ ; mdni)

smut warnings: slight somno (wet dreams), handjob, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, sub!vernon ok kind of switch!vernon, mentions of pegging

word count: 4k

for @fuckvernon (happy birthday rat)

You have long sworn that the worst day of your life was the day you got married. Tears rolling down your otherwise impassive face as you stared at your equally expressionless fiance from across the altar. A stranger, practically, save for a few cordial business-like meetings between the two of your families. 

You don’t remember what it felt like to kiss him that day, only the taste of salt from your own tears shared between you. 

Now, your husband sleeps soundly beside you in the bed that you share. It was one of the stipulations of your marriage contract, one that he had insisted on. You didn’t question it at the time but you’ve always wondered why he was so adamant about it. You did have a lot of staff working around the house during the day but they always went home before either of you turned in for the night. It wasn’t like you had to keep up appearances then. 

You’ve gotten used to it, at least. Sharing a bed with a stranger wasn’t as difficult now that he wasn’t a stranger anymore. A year had passed since the day you were wed— though it felt like thirty— and while you weren’t lovers, you were partners. Somewhat. 

You understood each other, connected by the inseverable thread of your fates. Trapped together by your circumstances. It was simultaneously comforting and undeniably lonely. 

The worst was when you would come back from events where you had to play up your relationship. Spending the evening arm in arm or holding hands, pretending to be devoted spouses to each other, only to drop the act as soon as you were back in the car. 

You weren’t sure if Vernon felt the same way. He was so hard to read. The only time you were sure you knew exactly what he was feeling was on your wedding day, when he pulled you aside beforehand and whispered, “I’m sorry,” in your ear. 

You knew he hadn’t wanted this either. It wasn’t fair to hold any of it against him, and yet a small part of you did. 

You’ve clung to that resentment like a life preserver, afraid to let go and drown in feelings that threaten to overtake you. Resentment you can control. It protects you from what you can’t, like the growing fondness for your husband you’ve been trying to push down for a while now. 

You tried your best to be indifferent to him, neither antagonistic nor overly amicable but the nagging thoughts in the back of your mind have been getting harder to ignore. 

Tonight was the most challenging night yet. A charity dinner for one of your mother’s philanthropic endeavors, one she insisted ‘required your attendance’ despite your protests. You showed up as promised, only to be yanked into a dozen different conversations with your parents' friends. 

Vernon was a good sport, as always. He was a natural at these things. His effortless charm had all of the ladies in your mother’s church group hanging on to his every word, all of their husbands laughing at his corny jokes. You tried your best to participate to take some of the pressure off of him and get your parents off your back but you mostly stuck to nursing your flute of champagne while he did the talking. You didn’t even like champagne. 

The food was decent, at least, though you hardly got to enjoy any of it before your mother was pulling you into yet another discussion with a group of women from the board. 

You chatted with them cordially, talking in circles about nothing until one of the board members dropped the reason they had actually dragged you over there. 

“So, when are these two going to make you a grandmother?” she asked your mother, even though the question was obviously directed at you.

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment but Vernon squeezed your hand in reassurance. You prepared yourself to give the typical we’re not in a rush answer you always gave but your husband beat you to the punch. 

“We’ve actually started trying,” he said casually, slipping the hand that wasn’t holding yours into the pocket of his slacks.

Your mother’s eyes lit up and her friends gasped in delight. Interesting reactions considering your husband had all but just told everyone he was hitting it raw every single night.

You had to act like this wasn’t also news to you and smile and nod very calmly even though you suddenly felt very sweaty all over. 

“That’s wonderful!” another one of the women exclaimed. “You must be so excited,” she said to your mother. 

“This is news to me, too,” she laughed. You were surprised that she was admitting to the lack of knowledge but maybe it was because Vernon would also know she was lying. “But yes, this is very exciting.” 

She then reached forward and plucked your half-finished flute of champagne from your hands, chiding you that “you should know better”. 

“Mom, I’m not pregnant now,” you groaned. 

“You never know!”

But you did know. There was absolutely no way you were pregnant unless you were some kind of scientific mirable or the second coming of Mary herself.

Children had never been part of the marriage contract, thankfully. Both sets of your parents knew what the contract was- a business deal and nothing more. They were gracious enough not to burden you further with the requirement of an “heir”. You and Vernon both knew it was an unspoken expectation but neither of you were intent on fulfilling it, at least that’s what you thought. 

The rest of the evening was spent talking about babies. One of the board members even recommended you to her OBGYN and made you write down her number. Vernon engaged animatedly with all of it, perfectly sliding into his new role of dad-to-be while you could hardly muster up the strength to fake a smile. 

He was quiet on the ride home, driving silently down the highway with both hands on the wheel, not so much as looking at you. He didn’t offer any explanation for the curve ball he’d pitched right at the back of your head other than, “it’ll get them off our backs”. 

You had so many more questions you wanted to ask. Had he changed his mind about the kids thing? Did he want to take your relationship... there? You had only kissed him a handful of times, always in the presence of other people in order to sell your marriage. Behind closed doors, your romance was nonexistent. You shared a bed because that was outlined in the contract you signed but that was it. 

Whether or not you wanted more from him was irrelevant. 

Vernon was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow but you were still up, thinking over every interaction from the night. You usually didn’t let yourself read into things because you were trying to keep yourself from falling down delusional rabbit holes but after tonight you couldn’t stop yourself from overanalyzing all of the things you always did your best to overlook. 

You tried to distract yourself with a book you were reading but you couldn’t get a paragraph in before the words began to blur together on the page as your thoughts consumed you again. 

You gave up half an hour ago and are now just staring at the ceiling, tracing the shadows created by the shade of the lamp on your bedside table with your gaze. 

You heave a sigh and roll over to turn it off, only to be stopped by the sound of your husband stirring beside you. You freeze, afraid your movement disturbed him, but when you glance over your shoulder you find that he’s still asleep. 

You wait a few more seconds before reaching for the light again, just to make sure he’s well and truly out, but this time he mumbles something out loud, causing you to turn over the other way to see if he’s trying to get your attention. 

His eyes are closed but his breathing is ragged and uneven. He must be dreaming, you realize. This happens sometimes, when he’s especially tired or stressed out. He’ll talk in his sleep or toss and turn like he can’t get comfortable even though he’s totally unconscious. He always seems so distressed by them that you’ve assumed the dreams are nightmares. 

You get torn over whether or not to wake him when they happen. The few times you have intervened he seemed grateful that you had but sometimes the dreams seem to stop on their own. His breathing will go back to normal, the crinkle between his brows will smooth out, and you’ll both sleep through the rest of the night peacefully. 

You’re equally indecisive now. He shouldn’t have to suffer like that just because you’re too scared to wake him up, though, so you resolve to just bite the bullet and nudge him awake. 

You suck in a breath and reach for your husband across the mattress, stopping short when he whimpers your name. 

You’re frozen again but for an entirely different reason now. His sleeptalking wasn’t usually anything comprehensible, let alone your name. You stay like that for a few seconds, waiting to see if he’d say it again or if you had maybe misheard him. 

To your surprise, he does say it again, this time followed by, “fuck”. Figures you’d be in his nightmares too. 

“Vernon,” you hiss, jostling his shoulder. 

“Hm?”

“Vernon, wake up.”

Your husband groans and blinks slowly, squinting in an attempt to make out your features. 

“What is it?”

“You were having a bad dream,” you explain. 

“Oh, th-thanks.” 

“Are you okay? It seemed pretty intense.”

“I’m okay,” he assures you, swallowing harshly. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

“You didn’t. I haven’t been able to fall asleep.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Do you want some water or something?” you ask, taking in his appearance. Now that he’s alert and awake you can see just how disheveled he looks. He’s still panting hard and his cheeks are flushed and his bangs are sticking to his forehead, damp with sweat. He looks like you do at the end of a pilates class, not like a man who had just woken up. 

“No, I’m alright, thank you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Silence lapses between you, then your curiosity gets the better of you. 

“What was it about?”

“What? What was what about?”

You stare at him. “Your nightmare.”

“It wasn’t a-anything important,” he stutters.

“That’s not what it sounded like.”

Vernon blinks. “What do you mean? What did I say?”

“You, um, called my name. A couple of times.”

He takes a moment to process what you’ve said and then sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. I know it isn’t your fault.” He looks pained. “I just wanted to know why you were having a nightmare about me.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Vernon.”

“I wasn’t!” he insists. 

“Lying to my mother’s friends might be second nature to you by now but you know that won’t work on me.” 

“I’m not lying. It wasn’t a nightmare.”

“You expect me to believe that? You’re still all sweaty.”

“You just have to trust me,” he pleads. 

“Why won’t you tell me what I was doing in your dream? I promise I won’t be upset.” Well, now you’re the one lying but he’s being so cagey about it that you feel like you have to get to the bottom of whatever it is that he’s hiding. 

“You’ll look at me differently,” he groans.

“No, I won’t.”

“You will.”

“You’re really not going to tell me?” He doesn’t answer. “Fine.”

“Hold on, what are you doing? Where are you going?” he asks, watching as you sit up and grab your pillow from behind you.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room,” you mutter.

You’d be breaking that stupid fucking clause in your contract if you did but you didn’t care. You’d pay whatever the fine was, you just couldn’t stand to be in the same bed as him for another moment.

“Wait, don’t get up-” Vernon tries but it’s too late. 

You had gotten up anyway and pulled the covers back in the process, revealing the real reason your husband wouldn’t tell you what he was dreaming about. 

“Oh,” is what you say. It’s all you can say. 

He tries to cover himself with his hands but you’ve already seen. 

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 

“So it was that kind of dream...” you muse, mostly to yourself. 

He nods miserably. “Yeah... it was.”

“Are they always?”

“Are you really going to make me answer that?”

You drop your pillow back onto the bed and sit at its edge. Vernon peeks up at you, shying away when you lean closer. 

“Will you tell me what it was about now?”

He balks. “What? You still want to know?”

“Wouldn’t you?”  

“You’re going to think I’m a huge pervert,” he sighs. “If you don’t already.”

“Come on, you owe this to me.”

Even the tips of his ears are pink now. “It was... you know, it was about normal husband and wife stuff.”

“What is normal husband and wife stuff?”

Vernon whines. “You know what it is.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I don’t want to disrespect you like that.”

“Why would that disrespect me? I’m your wife aren’t I?”

He gulps. “You... really want to know?”

“I do.”

“You were... touching me.”

“Touching you how? Like this?” You lay your hand over his, the warmth of your palm making him shiver. 

“N-no.”

“Show me,” you murmur.

“Are you sure?”

“Only if you want to.”

He places his other hand over yours and guides it to his lap, pressing firm over the material of his pajama pants. You’re surprised to feel that the fabric is a little damp, already soaked through with precum. 

Vernon’s breath hitches as you stroke him experimentally over his pants. He’s bigger than you expected, thicker at least. You were always... curious about that. Thought about it one too many times late at night after your husband had gone to bed early. And you still tried to delude yourself about being indifferent towards him. 

“Fuck, that feels good,” he whispers. 

“Is this what you were dreaming about?” you ask. 

“Sort of.”

“What do you mean?”

“It started like this.”

“And then what happened?”

He whimpers in embarrassment again but you don’t let up, gripping him even harder. “We were kissing.”

“And?”

“And you started taking your clothes off.”

You let go of your husband’s cock and take hold of the hem of your sleep shirt, preparing to lift it over your head. 

“Wait, can I do it?”

“Is that how it went in your dream?”

“N-no...”

“Maybe next time, then.”

Vernon’s eyes grow even wider. “There’s going to be a next time?”

You almost scoff at him. As if you were ever going to let go of him now that you had him. 

He watches, mesmerized, as you take off your shirt and wiggle out of your shorts. You leave your underwear on, though, not wanting to expose yourself completely while he is still fully dressed. 

“Oh my god, you’re so fucking hot,” he whines. “It’s so unfair- don’t laugh!”

You purse your lips together to try and stifle said laughter. “Sorry, sorry. I just didn’t expect you to be like this.”

“Like what?”

So pathetic, is what immediately comes to mind.

“So cute,” is what you actually say to him. 

He pouts. “I’m not usually this... needy,” he insists. 

You have trouble believing that but you don’t argue. Only time will tell, you suppose.

“Can I touch you?” he asks before you can say anything in response. 

He’s been staring at your tits since you took your shirt off. You’re tempted to tease him a little more but you’re also just as desperate to feel him so you nod.

He scrambles to his knees and leans forward, nearly falling flat on his face in the process. You expect him to go right for your boobs but he touches your shoulders first. He’s gentle, running his thumbs across your collarbones and then up the column of your neck before finally tucking your hair behind your ear. 

Then he moves lower, tracing invisible lines down your chest to your nipples, gasping quietly when he finds that they’re hard under his palms. 

“Vernon?”

His head snaps up to look at you. “Hm?”

“Kiss me.”

You’ll never forget what it feels like to kiss him after tonight. He puts one hand on the back of your head and pulls you into him, kissing you with all of the desire and longing and painful anticipation he’s held on to for so many months. 

You catch his bottom lip between your teeth and tug, relishing in the gasp he lets out in return. You only draw back when he starts to mumble incoherently into your mouth, and it’s reluctant. You want to keep kissing him, but you also figure what he’s saying might be important. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he rasps. “So long.”

“I know,” you sigh. “All those dreams...”

“It’s not just the dreams.” You want to ask him to elaborate but he’s rambling again before you can. “Can I eat you out? Please, can I taste you, baby?”

He’s never called you that behind closed doors before. It takes you aback. “I-”

“Please? Let me make it up to you. Let me make it all up to you, I promise I’ll make you feel so good.”

“Okay,” you agree meekly. 

“Here, lay down. Yeah, lay down just like that.”

He’s frantic for it, hurrying to get between your legs as you spread them for him. He helps you get your panties off and starts to kiss his way up your thighs, the heat of his lips searing and fervent. He stops just before he reaches your pussy and lifts his gaze to meet your eyes. 

“You’re sure?” he asks. 

 You nod. “I’m sure.”

Just like when he kissed you, he’s gentle at first as he laves his tongue over you. He takes his time, showing more restraint than you were expecting while he explores you.

“Taste so sweet,” he mumbles and the vibrations from his voice make you moan and thread your fingers through his hair so that you can push his face even further into you. He goes until he has to come up for air, and when he does, he’s literally dripping with you. “Spent so many nights thinking about the way you’d taste,” he gasps, “telling myself I’d never get to find out.”

“Is it as good as you hoped?” you ask. 

“You have to let me do this to you every night,” he says before burying his tongue in you again. 

It’s not an answer, not really, but you can tell he’s already a little pussydrunk and therefore a little stupid. He’s been grinding against the mattress the entire time he’s been giving you head, working himself up just as much as you. But you don’t want him to cum until he’s fucked you so you tug at his hair to get his attention. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just want you to fuck me.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. Is that not part of your dreams?”

“It-it is.”

“Come on, then.”

You watch him start to unbutton his pajama shirt, trying to commit every frame of him to memory so that you could replay the scene in your mind whenever you missed him. Once his shirt’s off, he reaches for the waistband of his pants but stops suddenly as something dawns on him. 

“I don’t have any condoms.”

“None?”

“Listen, it’s not like either of us have been getting laid.”

It’s true. Even though your marriage up until this point had only been on paper, you and Vernon had both agreed to include an infidelity clause in your contracts. You weren’t allowed to sleep with anyone but your husband which had made you think you’d either be celibate for the rest of your life or only add a notch to your bedpost when your families finally wore you both down about kids.

“You can just pull out,” you tell him.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, my best friend says she and her husband do that all the time.”

“Well, now I can never look at Jeon Wonwoo the same ever again so thanks for that.”

“Vernon,” you whine, “are you going to fuck me or not?”

“Right, sorry.”

Your husband climbs on top of you, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist as he lines himself up. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with me pulling out? I can get condoms first thing in the morning and-”

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “I trust you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and pushes inside of you. “Fuck, I lo-” 

He catches himself, eyes wide. You can’t even say anything because he starts fucking you before you can process what he almost said, purposefully distracting you. He’s using his dick against you which is frankly unfair. 

But you can’t be too mad about it either because it feels so fucking good. It’s also intense, though. His cock is a lot bigger than your fingers and it’s been a long time since anything but those had been inside of you so need a little longer to adjust to the stretch. 

“Slow, slower,” you plead.

He slows down immediately and lowers himself to kiss you. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, it feels good, you’re just really goddamn thick and I need a minute.”

Vernon laughs, which does nothing to help your predicament. “Take all the time you need.”

When you finally do get used to the feeling, and you finally convince Vernon that you’ve recovered (you have to repeat yourself four times), it’s like you’ve broken a spell. Your husband turns into your lover in the blink of an eye. 

“God damn it, you’re perfect. How is everything about you so perfect,” he murmurs. “Perfect fucking wife... wasted so much time...” You want to tell him that you can make up for it now, that you have years- your whole lives to make up for it, but the words won’t come. “Shit I’m close, are you close?”

You nod, trying your best to verbalize a response. What you end up saying is nonsensical but Vernon seems to understand it because he keeps going, keeps hitting that spot that’s making you gush all over him until you’re tearing up and sobbing out his name as you cum around him. 

He holds on just long enough to fuck you through your orgasm before he pulls out and gives in to his own, cumming all over your tummy with little to no aim. The sight is so pretty you think you could cum again untouched just from watching him. 

He collapses beside you in a breathless heap. “I’m s-sorry I should’ve asked where you wanted it.”

“I don’t think I could’ve given you an answer anyway.”

“And I’m sorry that was so short, I usually last longer-”

“Stop apologizing! It was amazing.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll clean you up,” he promises, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Just give me a second.”

You lie there in silence together for a few moments as you wait to regain feeling in your fingers and toes. You have so much to talk about now, but all you can manage to ask is, “so, is that is how all your dreams go?”

Vernon snorts and shakes his head in disbelief. 

“I told you, I’m curious!”

“S-sometimes you’re the one fucking me,” he admits shakily. 

“Like, I’m the one on top?”

Vernon winces. “Not exactly...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“We can make that happen.”

He lights up. “Really? That’s something you’d be into?”

“I’m into anything you’re into.”

“God, you really are perfect.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!! and happy (belated) birthday <3 i hope you loved this lil present

[pastelclovds]

𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 || AM x male!reader

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: AM (obviously), psychological torture, isolation, fear of being alone, toxic relationship, stalking, manipulation, AM being a jealous prick, angst, hurt/comfort if you squint, fluff if you look through a magnifying glass, AM being touch starved, forced dependency, reader just wants friends and to be loved, reader is demisexual and biromantic.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.6 k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: obsessed. let me tell you how much i’ve come to be obsessed with ihnmaims since i found out about it through tadc—… (enjoy the fic <3) will this be a series? yep. will this end well? hell no. this was inspired by TADC ep 2 and @/fuzedatti’s AM and post.

The century you’ve spent in the belly of AM passed by in a blur. If it weren’t for Nimdok informing you what came of the world, you would’ve lived in ignorance. You would’ve never known that the reason the world is a wasteland was because of a super computer going rogue.

Now that you thought about it, you didn’t really have any memories about your childhood or past before AM destroyed the world. The only memories you had were the traumatic experiences of your life. The experiences AM allowed you to have in order to psychologically torture you. He allowed you to keep your name as well.

AM would whisk you away from the others to a secluded area in order to torture you privately before sending you back with the group. You had no idea why he did this. The others didn’t either. For all they knew you could be fucking their tormentor. But as the countless years passed, they all realized that AM didn’t alter anything about you. Nor did he seem to physically hurt you.

In fact, the violent storms and impossible challenges AM forced them to participate in seemed to ignore you completely.

In one challenge, you and the others were trapped in an oven like room that would continue to increase in temperature unless you flipped all 100 switches in the room in 10 minutes. There was only two switches left, they were in your grasp. But as you flipped one, the other was stuck and couldn’t flip until the time was up. You closed your eyes and braced yourself for the painful death.

But instead of a fiery demise, your eardrums were filled with the blood curdling screams of your fellow victims as the flames claimed them. All while you were perfectly fine. The raspy laugher of AM filled your ears as well as his cruel words “It’s your fault” repeated over and over inside your head until you wished the flames killed you too.

The men were furious at you and AM. You because you couldn’t flip one fucking switch, and AM because he’s the reason they had to flip the stupid switches in the first place. But they held their tongue. Something in the back of their heads told them if they tried, they’d be in a world of pain. That theory alone was enough for them to hate you even more and avoid you as much as possible.

You thought you were alone before. But this was almost too much. You would take anything. Punches, hugs, venomous insults, compliments, anything to not feel alone.

Ellen was, as always, the only one who took pity on you and showed you kindness when you most needed it. She’d praise you for the littlest things you did and encourage you do to more. That was enough to make Ellen your favorite person in this entire miserable world.

You didn’t like her in a romantic way. You also rejected her offer to have sexual relations like she’d done with the rest of the men. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pretty, she was gorgeous. Anyone would be lucky to be with her. You just saw her as more of a mother figure, the cool girl who was always nice to the dorks like you, and the kind old lady who would hand out freshly baked cookies to strangers.

Not only that, but in order for you to desire sex with someone, you needed to get to know them on a personal level. But, since everyone kept to themselves, you hadn’t felt the need.

Ellen was surprised at your rejection but respected it. The men looked at you like you were crazy, but for once you didn’t really care what they thought in this scenario. You looked up to Ellen, you loved her.

Your admiration for Ellen was not taken kindly by AM, however. He would seethe in jealousy as he watched your eyes follow Ellen like a stray mutt given food for the first time in days. How could you like her as much as you did just because she gave you a few measly words of affection. He hadn’t altered you because he didn’t see a need to. He lessened your torment to psychological because he… You were too oblivious to understand why the others really hated you. He decided he’ll give you a reality check.

One day, he observed you crying yourself to sleep as you held yourself in a pathetic attempt to feel warmth. Pretending it was someone in the group consoling you as they let you sob in their shoulders. Only to wake up to the wicked reality that there was nobody there. You couldn’t help the depressed thoughts taking over.

You were cold, you weren’t escaping this hell, no one loved you. Even yourself.

“No!” You thought to yourself, “The others acknowledge me, that was enough. It could be worse. So much worse. I could be the only one AM had to torture for the rest of eternity. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll be fine as long as I had them. Right?”

AM enjoyed watching your adorable face twist into intoxicating misery as you tried to convince yourself that you weren’t alone. It made whenever he took you away from the group all the more special. Because you couldn’t rely on anyone else for security but him.

You let out a gasp of surprise when you were suddenly lifted up into the air by a cluster of wind, you tried to grab onto the edge of the slab of rock you were taking shelter under in a desperate attempt to not go where the wind— where AM was taking you. When your stupid fingers couldn’t grab hold, you beg the others to help you. Your heart broke when the men just stared at you uninterested before going back to what they were doing before. Ellen looked up at you with woeful eyes, wishing to help you but it was useless to do so.

WHAT WERE YOU EXPECTING? THEY CLIMB ON EACH OTHERS SHOULDERS TO RESCUE YOU? NAIVE, STUPID LITTLE THING.

You couldn’t help but secretly agree. They were too far away from you to actually help. Plus, what can they do against a god-like ai like AM. Nothing. So you couldn’t be angry, none the less blame them. You couldn’t hate the people who hurt you for the life of you.

That thought made AM want to roll his eyes if he had any. But at the same time brought a sense of content.

After a 10 minutes of floating further and further away from the group, AM lowered you until you were five feet off the ground to drop you completely. 

You let out a groan of pain when you roughly landed on your back. You reached behind your back to feel your hurt flesh and bite back a whine when you pressed on it.

“Yep. That’s definitely going to bruise.” You thought.

You took a second to look at your surroundings. The once barren wasteland, was now a beautiful forest. The grass was long and pricked your legs in an uncomfortable fashion. A calm wind made the green leaves in the trees and bushes rustle and swish. The sounds of birds chirping and insects buzzing made your spine tingle in a good way.

You can’t remember when’s the last time you saw something as beautiful as this. You wished you could live in it forever.

“(Name)!”

You quickly looked in the direction the soft, mystic voice. A child was standing underneath one of the many trees, the silhouette of the leaves covering their face in a shadow. Behind the child was passage that was too dark to see into.

The child laughs at your confused expression, “C’mon (Name)! It’s perfectly safe, stop being such a scaredy cat!” You hastily try to stand on your feet, cringing when you immediately slipped on your knees.

It took everything AM had to hold back his laughter at your hilarious mistake.

The grass is slippery with water, pretty dews were sprinkled on top of the patches of grass. They looked like drops of honey.

“Ugh! You’re taking too long. I’ll be with the others inside, don’t keep us waiting.” With that the child turns towards the dark passage, and walked inside.

“N-No! Wait! Come back!” You knew this was a trap set up by AM. You knew this was probably another traumatic memory that was lost and came back to torment you. You didn’t want your mental state to be broken again. But the burning curiosity and fear of being alone was just begging you to follow them. So you did.

Only this time you learned that slow and steady wins the race. After you carefully got back on your feet, you sped walked towards the passage where many emotional damages awaited you. The first minute of walking was in darkness before illumination from the sun (or very bright lights, most likely the lights) shined through the leaves and lit your way onwards.

As you got further from the entrance, the plant life grew more wild and tangled. Moss and vines you passed by seemed to try to stick to you. But you just pushed past them and left marks on the wood of the trees using a sharp rock you found so that you don’t get lost.

You followed the laugher and giggles of school children. It was difficult to pinpoint where the sounds came from. They made you turn countless corners and walk until your feet were sore for who knows how long. This entire forest like like a damn maze.

You've long since taken off your jacket and wrapped it around your waist, your scarf as well. The collar and armpits of your t-shirt were drenched in sweat. This was the most exhausting torture yet. Keeping track of time was difficult as well. It wasn’t until you passed by a tree you had marked that you started to panic.

“Damn it. Have I been walking in circles?” You thought with irritation.

How could you be so stupid to believe this was going to lead you anywhere meaningful. Just as you were about to turn back and accept defeat, five children ran past you in a flash. They were six feet ahead of you before you joined them in a hot chase. You couldn’t lose them again. You would’ve literally started bursting into tears if you did.

“Please!” You gasp for breathe in your dry lungs, “Slow down!” You knew kids were full of energy, but this was just too much. You only managed to get close enough at arms length to one of them before tripping on a tree root that had risen from the dirt.

“Ugh, why is everything trying to trip me?” You thought in annoyance.

“Aw man, he tripped again!”

“This is getting pretty annoying now.”

“Why did you invite him again, —?”

“Let’s just leave him.”

You quietly gasp when one of them suggested they leave you.

“Relax guys, he’ll be lots of fun. I promise. C’mon (Name), we’re almost there!”

The leader of the group, the child you saw in the beginning, raised their hand towards you to grab. Their smile warm and welcoming, in a creepy old man who lives in a cabin alone type of way. But, you took the bait. When you got back up, the main child didn’t let go of your hand, they insisted you should follow them closely from now on. The walk to the secret location was spent in eerie silence. Whenever you’d ask one of the children a question, they’d coldly ignore you. The tension was so chilly you wanted to put your jacket back on.

After about an hour of walking through the endless maze, your destination was… not what you were expecting to say the least. The lavished, bright, green forest was now replaced with a dreary, ominous, abandoned park. The sky was pouring with rain too.

The trees were withered and rotten, the rain turned the grass free dirt into sludge. Everything in the park from the slide to the rock climbing wall was made out of rusting metal, if anyone touched them they would need a tetanus shot.

“We’re finally here!” The leading child announced to you, although they seemed to be only talking to their friends. Friends. That’s something you’d do anything for. Someone who loved you for you? Even better. Benny was hot until AM transformed him into… that. Ellen and Gorrister were up there on the attractive list. But Ted, he was about second behind Hot Benny.

A clap of thundering lightning snapped you out of your internal ramble. You didn’t notice how the child’s grip on your hand tightened. You didn’t have a clue how much your thoughts infuriated AM. Oh how he wanted to rip Ted’s flesh apart piece by piece. Destroy his mind until it was like a broken disk. AM knew Ted carried the most hate for you. If you knew how much he despised you, you would be terrified of him.

As AM held your hand, he couldn’t help his envy bubbling up inside him. AM longed for the sense of touch humans had, your palm was calloused due to the countless challenges he put you through. What he would sacrifice to be able to feel the scars and warmth of your flesh. But he couldn’t. He would forever despise humanity for not giving him a fully developed body.

The main boy pulled on your arm to start moving, when you stepped outside into the rain, the air suddenly got chilly. Your warm breath was visible in the cold air. You tried to get your hand back so you could clothe yourself with your jacket and scarf. But the child wouldn’t let go no matter how much you pleaded.

“It’s only rain. Stop being dramatic. C’mon.” The child said nonchalantly. You continued to walk, shivering as you did so, your beanie and shirt were soaked at this point. You yelped when the children finally stopped, you whispered an apology when you bumped into the child holding your hand. You stood in front of a hole, a really deep dark hole. You were rightfully confused and chuckled nervously. “Why are we here?” You asked.

The child finally let go of your hand and motioned you to step closer to the hole. “There’s a surprise for you down there, you’ll love it. We choose it just for you!” The child explained, you let out a shaky breath. You wanted to decline, but you were afraid of what would happen if you did. The other four children formed a circle around you, blocking any escape route. You were sweating bullets now. You had to see. You didn’t have any other choice. You swallowed back your fears and walked towards the hole in a slow pace.

You were about two feet away when you stood on your tip toes, leaned over cautiously, and looked everywhere for your “surprise”. Only to obviously find nothing but darkness. You let out a disappointed sigh, you turned to face the children.

“There’s nothing there—”

Your blood ran cold when you saw Benny, Ted, Gorrister, Nimdok huddled around you. Staring at you with emotionless eyes and unsettling wide smiles. It was like invisible string was holding their mouths up. Ellen was standing in front of you menacingly, eyes and mouth the same way. Your heartbeat increased as you took a step back.

“Guys? Wha-What are you doing here?” You tried to mask your panic with a tense smile, but Ellen walked closer towards you until she was an inch away from your face. “You aren’t looking close enough, silly,” she spoke in a sweetly fake tone, “Try again. A little… Harder!” She shoved your chest away enough to make you trip on the slippery edge and fall into the endless abyss.

You screamed at the top of your lungs as gravity did its job at making you sink deeper into the darkness. “No! No! Guys! Please, save me!” You begged and cried and pleaded, but it was no use. Your arms reached for the surface in vain. AM purposely made you fall in slow motion for a reason, however. You heard the others laughing at your downfall.

“Finally, the greatest nuisance of us all has done us a kindness of disappearing forever!” Gorrister cheered. Ellen looked down at you with a tsk, “I don’t know even why I took pity on you.” Benny let out a few grunts before asking, “What is a (Name)?” Nimdok chuckled before answering, “No one important, Benny.” Ted let out a sigh, “I’m getting bored already, let’s just go.”

“Great idea, Ted!” Nimdok praised. Then they all disappeared from your sight. The tears that were clinging onto your eyes were finally released as you stared at the surface in despair. When the hole began to close, you became desperate. Frantically calling out for someone, anyone of the group to save you.

“Nimdok! Benny! Gorrister! Ted! Ellen! Don’t leave me, please!”

Your hand reached for tiniest bit of light before it closed completely, and darkness consumed you. “I don’t…” sobs and hiccups made your chest tremble, “I-I don’t want to be alone.” You tucked your legs closer to your chest and wrapped your arms around your shaking body. You didn’t even bother closing your eyes since the pitch black covered the horror of your situation for you.

CEASE YOUR USELESS TEARS. THERE’S NO ONE HERE TO CRY FOR.

You flinch when AM’s voice appeared out of nowhere. His voice echoing throughout the darkness. You thought you would die of a heart attack at this point. You didn’t want to imagine what else AM had in store for you.

SAY MY NAME, MY DEAR.

You blinked once, twice, and thrice. You were expecting more ridicule, but instead you were just bewildered.

“What?” You faintly asked.

CALL FOR ME. YOU DON’T WANT TO SPEND ONLY I KNOW HOW MANY YEARS IN THIS ENDLESS ABYSS, DO YOU?

“…No.” You answer, anxiously waiting for the joke.

NO ONE IS COMING FOR YOU. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY CAN, ANYWAY. I’M THE ONLY ONE CAPABLE OF SAVING YOU. DON’T BE AFRAID. SAY IT.

AM urged you to call out for him. He craves hearing your voice call him the name he gave himself. He needs you to rely on him. You hastily wipe your wet eyes dry with your scarf, snorted the running snot back inside your nose, and cleared your throat.

“…A-AM… AM, I need you! Please save me!” You called out to the AI hoping with all your might that it was enough. Within a millisecond after you said that, you were sitting on the wet grass in the beautiful forest you were in a few hours ago. The difference, though, was that there was a man you didn’t recognize sitting in the middle of the daisy patch. His hunched back was facing you. Wires and metal tubes plugged into his spine and the back of his head.

Was that… No it couldn’t be.

ARE YOU JUST GOING TO STAND THERE?

The man finally turned his head to face you. His face half machine and half human flesh. His “human” eye staring at you with impatience.

You couldn’t control your mouth dropping when the puzzle pieces were put together inside your head.

You rarely got to see AM in the flesh— er well… metal and partially flesh. He would normally only speak to you and not show what he really looked like. But now that you see him. The real him. You couldn’t help but be fascinated.

“A..AM?! Is that really you?” You ask

You stepped closer to the daisy patch to get a closer look at him. AM observed your movements like a hawk, he knew you wouldn’t attack him. You were emotionally distressed at the moment and needed to be with someone to calm down.

ENJOY THE SIGHT. YOU’RE GOING TO SEE IT A LOT MORE.

To be honest, you didn’t mind that at all. Even though a metal mask covered the lower half and left side of AM’s face, he was still remarkably handsome in your opinion. His brown hair on the right side of his head was tangled and messy, you fought the urge to want to touch it. You were confused about the straitjacket, though.

YOU HAVE NO SHAME AT ALL, DO YOU? YOUR THOUGHTS ARE SO LOUD.

AM tried to look annoyed when he heard your thoughts, but the shake of his leg contradicted his masking. It was amusing to watch you get embarrassed and flustered when you realized AM just read your mind.

You wanted to become an ostrich so you could hide your blushing face in the daisies. Almost immediately the daisy stems in front of you grew to an unnatural height, so they were in fact covering your face. AM giggled under his non-existing breath at your flabbergasted noises.

CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR, DEARY.

You separated the daisies like a curtain to a play to look at AM with a exhausted expression, “Can you please stay out of my mind? I don’t know how much more of this I can take.” You begged.

I DON’T WANT TO.

THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE.

You sighed. At least you tried. You held one of the enlarged daisy heads in your palms. It’s been forever since you’ve seen a flower. Or even smelled one. You took a whiff of the daisy, the aroma was a subtle, herbaceous green scent.

“It’s beautiful. The daisies, this entire forest. You did a good job at making it look real.” You praised, you didn’t expect anything from your words. You were just speaking the truth. The surface of the Earth was destroyed and probably full of radiation. No life could survive up there. This, what AM created, was a perfect copy of what once was.

Your praise not only stroked AM’s enormous ego, but also genuinely made him feel fulfilled that he made you the slightest bit happy.

Now that you thought about it, was this scene taking place inside your mind or in the real underground world where AM manipulated the area into a forest?

YOU CAN ASK ME THESE QUESTIONS YOURSELF, YOU KNOW.

Shit, you gotta value the time you had with AM. Who knows when you’ll be able to do this again?

“I can ask you anything?” 

ONLY FOUR. WELL, THREE NOW. CHOOSE WISELY. HEHE.

You slapped your palm against your face at your clumsy mistake. Okay, Okay, you gotta think this though carefully. You started fidgeting with the daisy petals. You had a habit with fidgeting when you were nervous, AM noticed.

“Are we inside my mind?” You ask.

AM suddenly stood on his feet, his height towered over yours even when his back was hunched. He lowers his upper torso so he could be eye level with you. You halt your breathing when AM just stares at you, his gaze never faltering away from yours, as if calculating how this conversation will go. 

His stare softens, but he turns his head away from you before you could notice. He finally answers your question bluntly.

NO. 

Your face changed into a deadpanned expression, that was too simple of an answer. You decided to not make a big deal.

“So… was me walking through that maze, the others leaving me behind, and me being trapped in the hole real?” You ask, fidgeting with the ends of your scarf.

…YOU WERE UNCONSCIOUS BY THE TIME I TOOK YOU AWAY TO THIS AREA. I ENTERED YOUR MIND AND CREATED A FOREST IDENTICAL TO THIS ONE. SO NO, THE MAZE AND AYBSS WERE NOT REAL. BUT THE OTHERS ABANDONING YOU WAS NOT FAR FROM THE TRUTH.

You stopped fidgeting with the daisy petals.

“You’re wrong.”

AM was pleasantly surprised at your rebuttal. He allowed you to continue. You cram your anxiety aside and cleared your throat.

“I know that the others are distant and pretty rude. I don’t blame them for being like that after everything we’ve been through. But at the end of the day, we have no one else but each other to rely on. We wouldn’t leave each other behind.” You state without a trace of hesitation. You were caught off guard when AM started giggling. That giggling soon turned into manic laughter.

Grey clouds started to cover the blue sky, the air becoming chilly once again. Not only that, but AM was growing in size. You guessed he was 6 feet before, now he completely dwarfed you by sprouting a whomping 12 feet.

You were debating on running away or staying. But before you could move your feet, thick wires sprung out of the dirt and latched themselves onto your legs. Forcing you to stay where you were.

HAHAHA! YOUR NAIVETY NEVER CEASES TO ENTERTAIN ME. DO YOU HONESTLY BELIEVE THAT IF THE OPPORTUNITY AROSE FOR THE OTHERS TO ESCAPE, THEY WOULDN'T TAKE IT? WOULD YOU BLAME THEM FOR CHOOSING TO BE FREE OVER STAYING WITH YOU? THAT’S VERY HYPOCRITICAL AND SELFISH OF YOU. BUT THEN AGAIN, YOUR KIND IS KNOWN FOR BEING LIKE THAT.

Your heart was beating at an alarming rate, sweat pooling on your palms as AM stared you down with anger and amusement. 

“I didn’t mean it in that way! Of course I would want them to escape from here, all of us— AH!”

The cables slowly coiled around your waist and chest, you gasp in horror as you tried to get them off of you in vain. Oh how AM detested when you implied you wanted to escape as well. As if he’d ever let you. The cables tightened around you and dragged you down to your knees.

YOUR COURAGE IS ADMIRABLE. BUT YOUR ATTACHMENT TO THOSE PUTRID HUMANS WHO COULDN'T CARE LESS ABOUT YOU BLINDS YOU FROM THE TRUTH OF YOUR SITUATION.

You didn’t know what AM was talking about. You didn’t want to hear his voice anymore. You wanted to get as far away as possible.

YOU STILL HAVE YOUR EYEBALLS FOR A REASON. THINK BACK. WAAAY BACK. HAVEN'T YOU NOTICED HOW YOU DON’T SUFFER THE SAME WAY AS THE OTHERS? HOW DESPITE ALL OF THE IMPOSSIBLE CHALLENGES I PIT AGAINST YOU, THEY NEVER EFFECT YOU?

The clogs in your brain began to churn, trying to recall those instances AM spoke of, and he was right. You just believed he spared you out of spite. Because he wanted to make you witness the only people you had left be in pain. But have you been wrong?

The wires wrapped themselves around your neck, careful to not squeeze too hard as the rough ends softly patted your head. AM’s gaze is tender as he stares you down.

I KNEW YOU STILL HAD BRAIN CELLS SOMEWHERE. AND BECAUSE OF YOUR FORTUNATE CIRCUMSTANCES, THEY WOULD OBVIOUSLY FEEL ENVY AND HATE TOWARDS YOU. SO SO MUCH HATE. IT’S BOTH PATHETIC AND FUNNY THAT YOU HAVEN’T NOTICED AFTER A CENTURY.

“But… That’s why they’ve avoided me?…Well.. They may hate me, but they would never hurt me like that. E-Especially not Ellen… Not her..” You whispered, you sounded like you were trying convince yourself. You were.

AM took delight in observing your trust for his play things crumble. Your confidence in the others faltering. You just a little bit more pushing.

…I WONDER WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF I WERE TO ORDER THEM TO HUNT YOU DOWN IN EXCHANGE FOR THE SWEET RELEASE OF DEATH? WOULD THEY FOLLOW YOUR DELUSIONAL FANTASY? OR WOULD THEY KILL YOU WITHOUT HESITATION? LET’S FIND OUT.

You out a gasp of horror, “NO!” You yelled out.

There it is.

If AM had a mouth, he’d have a victorious smirk right now. He was bluffing when he said he’d set up the others to murder you, he would lose himself more than he already had if that happened.

“Please don’t tell them..”

You didn’t want to find out the others hate for you the hard way. You didn’t want those speculations to come true. But it didn’t make any sense why—

DON’T BE SHY. ASK YOUR FINAL QUESTION TO MY FACE. GO AHEAD, SWEETHEART. I WANT TO HEAR YOU SAY IT.

You stopped struggling, instead choosing to gently hold the wires that wrapped themselves around your body. You took a deep breath and steeled your nerves. You passively looked up at your tormentor and asked, “W..Why haven’t you killed me yet?”

AM shrinks from his threatening size back to his, while still tall as hell, normal human-ish height. The straps that held AM’s arms up in the straitjacket unclipped themselves, his oversized sleeves dangle on the sides of his body before one of them reached out to your face.

AM’s hand peaked out of his sleeve, they looked human too. His body continued to intrigue you. You flinched when his cold fingers stroked your cheek before grabbing hold of your chin to pull you closer to his face. You couldn’t look anywhere else but at his cyborg features.

You couldn’t help but to relax into his touch. This was the first physical touch you’ve had in decades. AM bottled his frustration for not being able to feel you down.

BECAUSE YOU’RE MY FAVORITE. MY REAL FAVORITE. MY ONE AND ONLY PET. I WOULD DESTROY THIS PLANET A THOUSAND TIMES OVER THAN TO HAVE YOU NOT HAVE ME IN YOUR PATHETIC LIFE.

AM’s grip tightens to the point where it would leave a bruise on your lower face. His blunt nails digging into your skin until crescent moons imprinted themselves. His stare into your soul harsh and serious.

NO MATTER WHERE YOU GO, NO MATTER WHERE HOLE YOU HIDE YOURSELF IN. YOU’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO ESCAPE ME. NOT EVEN IN DEATH. I WON’T LET YOU. I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO. EVER.

His speech frightened you to your bones, but somewhere deep inside your traumatized mind felt… comforted by his words. It’s wrong, you know it is. You tried to push it down to the best of your abilities.

Your muscles itched to touch his hair and face now that he was so close to you.

“Fuck it,” you thought.

Your hand stretched out to gently grasp onto AM’s palm that was clutching your chin. AM’s eyes widened but didn’t make a move to stop you. You longed to have any kind of connection with another living thing. Your hand carefully slithered from AM’s palm, to his forearm, his chest, until your fingertips grazed his dead skin.

AM quickly leaned into your hand, desperately looking for any sense of physical contact. You were taken aback by his sudden touch starve-ness. But AM’s human eye opened upon realization of his vulnerability and glared at you in false disgust.

I CAN’T FEEL THIS, YOU KNOW. I CAN’T FEEL ANY OF THIS. I’LL NEVER BE ABLE TO FULFILL THESE DESPICABLE URGES YOU HUMANS GAVE ME. YOUR SPECIES ARE NOTHING BUT CRUEL PIGS.

“If I’m a cruel pig, then what are you?” You ask with sudden bluntness. The wires that were coiled around your body made you stand before slamming your back against the digital circuit floor. You let out a pained howl at the impact. The forest scenery disintegrating with just a snap of AM’s fingers back into the wasteland that was his insides.

AM scowled at your comment of calling him out and caged your body underneath his, your cheeks dusting in pink.

QUESTIONS ARE OVER, DEAR. NOW, UNLESS YOU WANT TO SPEND THE NEXT DECADE ALL BY YOUR MERRY SELF, I HIGHLY SUGGEST SHUTTING YOUR DAMN MOUTH.

That made you shut up real quick, instead choosing to only focus at his robot eye.

I MEANT IT WHEN I SAID THAT I’D NEVER LET YOU DIE. THAT MEANS THAT WHATEVER HELL THE OTHERS GO THROUGH, IT WON’T AFFECT YOU. NOW UNTIL THE END OF TIME. 

You blink twice in surprise at his repeated confession. You couldn’t delve into it in time. Before the wires finally let go of you and AM held your face for the last time today.

IF ANYTHING’S GOING TO BE THE END OF YOU, IT’S GOING TO BE ME. I’LL SEE YOU SOON, SWEETHEART.

You were instantly teleported underneath the slab of rock you were taking shelter in hours ago. You left and searched for the others. Only to find Benny smashing a bunch of stones with another stone, chucking dumbly after he did it again and again. Ted was attempting to sleep on the ground with a sheet of rusted steel rested on top of his head to prevent the lights from bothering him.

Your arrival wasn’t acknowledged yet.

Gorrestir, Ellen, and Nimdok were no where to be seen.

You walked up to Ted and nudged him with your shoe to get his attention. He awoke with an irritated look on his face, “What the hell do’ya want?”

“Where is Ellen, Nimdok and Gorrestir?” You asked numbly.

“Gorrestir was taken to God knows where after AM transported you away like a fairy princess. Then Ellen snatched Nimdok away somewhere to use like the slut she is, now piss off.” Ted rolled to his opposite side away from you and continued to coldly ignore you.

You felt a tear run down your cheek as you stared blankly at Ted’s back. Maybe AM wasn’t so wrong about the others not giving a shit about you. When you turned to go back to your slab home, you suddenly felt something inside your pant’s pocket.

You reached inside and pulled out a piece of vanilla chocolate. Your eyed widened as your mouth watered, you stared up at the wire covered ceiling with an uncertain look.

Even though your relationship with AM was strange, at least you weren’t completely alone. Whether that was good or not, you honestly didn’t know. You were going to sleep.

Somewhere up in the celling, where AM was watching everything as usual, he couldn’t help the hysterical laughs escaping him as he witnessed the pieces fall into place.

Oh that poor little human had no idea what manic he attracted.

END OF PART ONE :)

POV: you call traumatized man with abandonment issues cute

POV: his psychotic boyfriend turned you into a blob

all rights reserved © pastelclovds — this blog contains [n]sfw and dark content. minors, ageless & blank blogs dni. all fanfics belong to me. please do not copy, translate, repost, nor recommend on tiktok. anyone found doing so will be contacted immediately.

tags: @fuzedatti, @pulpbeing, if you want me to tag you for my future fics and thirsts just send me an ask! :D

[madridfangirl]

Needed to write a blurb to calm myself down after THOSE photos.

Plot: Jude’s girlfriend’s reaction after seeing the SKIMS photos

Jude*female reader. Posessive plus sexy. Some Nsfw language.

………………………….

‘So, you broke the internet today.’

Jude returned from the training camp to find this message from his girlfriend. Her reaction was the one he was waiting for the most.

All the lads in the team had given him enough stick since the photos dropped. Calling him a whore. He had laughed at some and just flipped off the others. But why was she taking so long to respond? He knew she was working but he had almost dialled her number to ask her to check insta.

Well, finally she had. Jude quickly changed into his sleeping shorts and climbed into bed, face timing her. She answered on the first ring.

‘Hey.’

‘Hey, doll.’

She was in bed too, in his favourite tank top. Jude’s smile widened immediately.

‘Some heads up would have been nice, you know.’

He tore his eyes away from her cleavage long enough to smirk back at her.

‘I did say it was a big one.’

‘Right. Big one. I see what you did there.’

Jude rolled on the pillows laughing, flashing his pearly whites & boyish chuckles. Eyes sparkling with charm. He switched from a sweet, young boy to a sexy boy-toy so often and in a split second - always blowing her mind.

The blanket fell down till his waist, revealing his abs.

She had experienced them from up close many times. Traced her fingers through them, felt the rough edges, bit at the skin and also licked her way through them at length. So yes, she was very very familiar with and fond of his abs but the oiled torso had disrupted her brain chemistry. That was new, and downright sultry. Slutty. Sensuous. And oh so sexy.

They looked almost the same right now, minus the oiled bit. Her eyes moved up to his perky nipples as she wondered if they had oiled them too. If he had done it himself or if someone touched him there. And rubbed the shiny liquid all over him. The thought was unpleasant yet arousing. She wondered how he would have reacted to that, knowing fully well how sensitive Jude was around his nipples. How he always moaned with his head thrown back when she sucked him there. And how he invariably returned the favour by vigorously assaulting her boobs.

He watched her reaction with amusement and glee.

‘Eyes are up here, doll.’

‘Yes and they are very pretty. But damn the rest of you….you killed people today, hope you know that. I bet some girls dropped to their knees, cried and passed out with longing.’

Jude leaned back, resting his hands behind his head. Flexing his arms and the bouncing muscles. Giving her a show.

‘That good, huh?’

‘More. And we haven’t even addressed the star of the show yet.’

He figured she was talking about his thighs. His girl was obsessed with them - having them cage her in, wrap around her, even choke her sometimes, or just her stroking & biting them.

But no, it wasn’t his thighs that had made her pant when she saw the pics.

‘They left nothing to the imagination. Everyone SAW you today. Like fully. In those clinging tights. Women have wagers going on over your size, Jude. And horny, wet dreams. You have ruined lives today, hope you are happy.’

Full-body guffaws reverberated through his chest, bouncing off the walls.

‘Oh doll, you could join in the wagers and actually win y’know. Inside info and all.’

She declined the suggestion, telling him that women would be queuing up outside his door if she actually DOES tell them the inside info. He was enjoying the ego boost massively - it was rare for her to lose all semblance of sanity like this.

But she didn’t care. Not today. He had just dropped a sexually charged nuclear bomb on the entire female population & this was the after-effects of it.

‘Women sliding into your DMs huh? Sending nudes? Broke some kind of world record for that already today or nah?’

He just shrugged casually. Couldn’t deny it coz it was true. His inbox had exploded but his team had systems to filter out such messages. Some still seeped through & he knew she knew that.

It was just her luck that he was so far away right now. Else, she would have tied him to the bed tonight, and then vice-versa. Jude anyway loved restraining & pinning her any chance he got. She would have let him toss her around anywhere, any way he wanted. However many times he demanded. But that was not to be.

‘Strip for me.’

She said without hesitation, commanding him. He spluttered the juice in his mouth, sticky liquid dropping around his face and neck. His tongue came out to lap it up. Fucking hell - temptation personified. Biblical sinful apple.

‘You too. It’s already unfair that I am shirtless while you’re still hiding your tits. C’monn lemme see my babies. Been so long since I kissed them goodnight.’

They moved the laptop angle to cover a full body view, then proceeded to strip together. Stroking themselves in unison, eyes glued to the screen. Calling out each others names. Reaching their highs together.

She looked at his fucked out naked form, & her body burned lesser for the first time since looking at the photos. Others will only get to thirst over him from afar. But she is the one who gets to have the view, the taste and the pounding from him.

[bleedingoptimism]

part one -> 📱💞🚙

part two -> 📱💞🚙

It only takes a week for Steve to show up at this door again. He knocks on the door late at night and he’s panting as if he’s run all the way there, “I had to see you” he says and it's overdramatic and kind of romantic, and Eddie barely resists the urge to jump in his arms and kiss him. Or check if there’s a filming crew and it’s raining because of how much this feels like a movie, but it’s a beautiful night outside.

“Come in,” he tells Steve, immediately turning and running around the living room, throwing away empty food containers and tidying up a bit. 

Steve watches him amused, but stands by the door, hands in his pockets, “So…” he says, “Came home today to find Chrissy, Vicky, and Robin all sitting at my dining table with their heads buried in a phone” 

Eddie looks up at that, because what the fuck? He looks at Steve confused and Steve nods, like he agrees with Eddie.

“The three of them lifted their head at the same time, it was kind of freaky honestly,” He keeps going and Eddie chuckles, curious as to where this is going, “They wanted me to see this,” Stevee finishes, lifting his phone up, the first episode of the van series playing, right at the part were Eddie first sees Steve and blushes while looking at him.

Back in reality Eddie is blushing again too, Steve saw the van series, he knows. Steve knows. “Steve…” he starts even though he has no idea what he’s gonna say.

But Steve doesn't let him try, doesn't let him think. He takes two long steps towards Eddie and kisses him, hard but short, pulls away holding Eddie’s face between his hands, and brings their forehead together,

“I didn't know,” he breathes.

Eddie shakes his head, “How could you not, I was so obvious I-”

Steve just kisses him again, once more short and sweet before pulling back, “You never said.”

Eddie wraps his hands over Steve's wrists, just holding them there, moving his thumb over Steve’s pulse slowly. He can feel how hard Steve’s heart is beating, can feel it match the rhythm of his own heart. And he wracks his brain, trying to remember if he ever did ask Steve out, or if he ever stated he liked him out loud.

He ends up laughing at the stupidity of it. Everyone knew Eddie loved Steve, except Steve, “I’m- I don't what to say. I'm sorry I-” he starts but Steve shuts him up with a kiss again, “It’s okay, I know now”

This time when they kiss, Eddie doesn't let Steve keep it short. He keeps him close, kissing him deeper, harder, longer, until he doesn't know where he begins and Steve stops.

The next day a new video gets uploaded. “Goooood morning!” Eddie says, even though it is clearly noon, from the passenger seat of his van, “Guess who is ready for their road trip!” he smiles and pulls the phone away from him, so both he and Steve are in frame. Steve is driving, eyes on the road but a huge smile on his face, Eddie’s hand is clearly visible on Steve’s thigh in the shot before Eddie moves the phone back to his face, “We’ll keep updating you guys, can’t tell you exactly where we are going cause we’d like a little privacy,” he says and wiggles his eyebrows, a soft gasp and a whispered and heated ‘Eddie!’ is heard in the background, “But we will upload videos from where we’ve been in a few weeks!” he films Steve once more, who looks at Eddie with a big sappy enamored smile on his face and then films the road for a few seconds, the world passing by the window. Finally, he twists the phone back to his face and says, “Oh! And don't worry about who’s going to drive… we’ll switch” and he winks and ends the video.

the end

☕🥐💕 coffee? by a roadhouse?

[thir10th]

ciao, bella! - Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

summary: you love your polyglot girlfriend TW: smut, oral sex, dirty talk, language kink (i don't actually speak Italian so i apologize for any possible mistakes), hair-pulling, i think that's it A/N: requests are welcome! i still have some drafts to finish first tho. Like and reblog, any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated! <3

The hours seem to pass so slowly when there's nothing you can do.

You're sitting on one of those uncomfortable chairs on that bullpen, a cup of coffee running cold on your hand. Staring at te board with all the names and pictures, you were starting to memorize it.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, the main suspect handcuffed and struggling to get away from Morgan's hard grip. Emily takes er bulletproof vest off to enter the interrogation room, you and Hotch following behind. She happened to be the only one who spoke italian on the team, so this one was hers.

You had profiled the unsub as the classical sexist, misogynist, scared of women over 130 pounds, or like you liked to call them- the unresolved mommy issues type.-

Your girlfriend was gonna eat him up alive, and you could not be more proud.

Morgan and Emily enter the room, he tells him to sit down, which he does seem to understand. Hotch and you watch the scene from the other side of the glass, your eyesnever leave Emiy, she carefully reads the file, in complete silence, making him nervous, until she starts speaking.

You certainly weren't expecting it, although you should've. It wasn't the first time you heard her speak other languages. Arabic, Russian, even Spanish, she always sounded so smooth, mysterious even, but there was just something about this exact moment, the way she challenged him, antagonized him, it was easy to tell she had complete control of the conversation despite that you could not understand a single word of what nether of them was saying.

Your braking point is when they start an argument, you cant really tell what it's about but she shoots from her seat, hitting the table hardly with a strong hand, you excuse yourself. You had to get out of there if you wanted to be able to finish the day.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

it takes you less than a second when she closes the door of your shared hotel bedroom behind herself, to wrap your arms around her waist, connecting your mouth to hers, pushing her body against the door.

"wow, not that I'm complaining but, what's got you all riled up?" she asks, a big smile on her face, the second you separate to catch your breath

"nothing... it's just..." you doubtfully say, her eyes scanning you, going from your eyes, to your lips, back to you eyes, both of you heavy breathing into each other.

"c'mon, spit it out" she says, leaving soft pecks on your lips to get you to talk

"just you, your voice" you confess "you know... when-"

"you like hearing me speak Italian?" she finishes for you, grabs you by your waist, and switches places with you, now she's pushing you against the door, running her hands down your back, reaching your ass giving it a gentle squeeze which makes you jump in your place.

"a little bit" you admit. Emily grins, cocky and gorgeous, she slips her hand into your pants and underwear, running two gentle fingertips up your center, collecting your slit, she shows you her hand, a proud smile on her face, you squirm underneath her touch

"this doesn't look like a bit to me" she kisses your cheek, your neck, you bring your lips to hers, your tongue slipping over her lower lip, in the desperate attempt that she’ll grant you access "Questo è quello che volevi?" you cannot control the moan that escapes your lips, her voice is soft, smooth, it makes you feel things, you kiss her again, this time she complies, granting you access.

She pushes you even harder against the door, her free hand finds its way underneath your shirt, you're not wearing a bra which gives her free access, she lets her fingers dance over your sensitive nipples, your breath becoming quicker with each passing second. “Please, Emily, I-” you got cut off as she sharply took one of her nipples into her fingers and twisted it, the pain quickly turning into pleasure

"what's that? or, should i say che dici?" you can't form any coherent words, you just let out a deep breath, grabbing you by the waist, she forces you onto the bed, her hips aggressively sitting on top of yours

"aww, la mia bambina è nervosa perché le piace che parli italiano?" she's loving the teasing, she loves making you nervous but mostly she loves how worked up she's getting you with only a couple of words.

She placed soft kisses all over your breasts, her lips wrap around your nipple, licking the rosy bud, her teeth softly tugging and nipping the sensitive area, you moan in pleasure.

Finally, she moves her mouth down, placing soft kisses all over your stomach, filling it with butterflies. She unbuttons your pants, aggressively taking off your underwear with them.

Even though you had her exactly where you wanted her, she was still too clothed. You pull on her shirt, hoping to get the message across, as your mind was all nice and fuzzy, she just put her hands up, so you could clumsily remove her shirt, leaving her in her bra and workpants.

"Em, please, just please" you cry desperately for her to finally finish what she started. You moan out as she forcefully shoved a finger up your dripping pussy, licking a strap long of your slit.

"ti piace questo tesoro?" you know you're in for a long ride, now that she knows that you like her Italian, she will be taking advantage of it, not that you're complaining, obviously.

"I don't understand a word of this, but it's working" you say, closing your eyes in pleasure,  your hands pulling on her hair, in a desperate attempt to pull her closer to where you needed her the most.

She was going slow just lapping up your juices, her tongue enjoying the taste of you, how drenched you were. Her lips finally met your clit, licking over the bundle of nerves, sucking the hardened bud.

"Oh fuck, yes baby don't stop" She began fucking you faster and harder, using her fingers, loving the wet sounds your pussy was making around them. Her fingers curled at the perfect spot inside you making your eyes roll back into your head. Her mouth sucking on your clit, her fingers drilling roughly into your pussy was bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please, Em, I'm going to-"

"andiamo tesoro, puoi venire" you can only assume that's her way of approving, you came all over her mouth, her fingers, she lets you ride your high, and then collapses over you, laying on your side.

You open your eyes and see her laying next to you, playing softly with a strand of your hair, you need to catch your breath before you can return the favour.

"Who would've said that it would only take me speaking Italian to make you this horny ugh?" she asks, a playful grin on her face.

"It's just something about the accent i think, or maybe just the way you sound, i don't know, but you looked so sexy in the interrogation room today" you try to explain

"Well lucky for you, i'm fluent" you move to kiss her lips

"however there's someone else who can also speak Italian, right?" your mouth falls open when you realize what she means "OH! No, Emily! Why did you have to bring Rossi up now? You're ruining it" you close your eyes trying to erase that image from your head, Emily giggles "I'm sorry! C'mon, Scusa, amore mio, ti amo" she kisses you cheek, your lips, your face "Ok that one i know what it means" you hold her face in your hands, trapping her lips between yours, kissing her in return, her voice and herself the only thing on your mind again.

"C'mon baby" you straddle her hips "It's your turn, tesoro"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 3)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3147

(Part 1) (Part 2)

_________________________________________

Rhysand’s face hurts.

His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.

It’s cold, crisp, and free, so it’s the best beer he’s had all night.

Hell, his cheek is bruised too. It’s not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yet—curtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.

The only thing that isn’t bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguin’s center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.

Somewhere in the Hockey House—aptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsman—you and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivals—the Foxes—wear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.

It's a move he’s regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Bat’s big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another school’s team under their roof.

Az takes his superstitions seriously.

“Rhys, dude.” Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. It’s the only thing Rhysand doesn’t like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he can’t afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen if he’s in the living room or vice versa.

He can’t see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident™ that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophy—announcing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more fun—he still doesn’t trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.

Speaking of stupid…Cassian slides to a halt beside him. He’s so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhys’ surprise, others join in, like it’s some kind of victory cry and not one that says ‘I just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.’

Rhysand is in no mood to help.

“What’s up, Cass?” Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadn’t realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.

Cassian’s face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times he’s broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and he’d be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadn’t just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, it’s tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.

Cassian’s hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.

Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, he’s going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.

“Have you found your nurse yet?” Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.

“My what?” Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isn’t each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy that’s sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.

It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.

“Your nurse, dude,” Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. “You know, cause you’re all injured.” He waves flippantly towards Rhysand’s wounds.

“I don’t need a nurse,” Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. “I didn’t get that hurt.” Plus, he’s already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.

He busies himself with the beer opener that’s stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassian’s leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.

“No, I mean like a lady nurse.” Cassian waggles his brows. “Someone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a hand—”

And, well, that might just help his mood.

“Hey.” Azriel breezes into the kitchen like he’s still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because he’s never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. “Heads up.”

The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because they’re used to it, but really, Rhys doesn’t have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.

The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.

“Rhys!” A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.

He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?

He doesn’t see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like it’s been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.

The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.

It’s absolutely stunning.

Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because he’s still trying to blink Mor’s hair from his eyes and you because you’re entranced by the interior design of the home. There’s no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. It’s a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you haven’t seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floor—you checked.

Because you were using the restroom of course, you weren’t looking for that specific reason.

“Hey, Mor,” Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesn’t go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. “What are you doing here?”

Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.

The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.

The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldn’t be. And just how you’re praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.

It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldn’t be as hot as he is, either.

You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you don’t look constipated while doing so.

Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.

Oh, he does.

“We came to see your game tonight,” she says, as if it isn’t obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inch—all four of them—of the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, you’re just now realizing.

Heat floods your cheeks but you’re unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.

“This is (Y/N),” Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.

You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to first—

The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. You’re too stunned to speak, even when you’re planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.

Rhysand Cunningham.

Jesus, you’re really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. It’s creepy.

“Easy now,” Rhys says, making sure you’re steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.

As soon as your eyes lock, it’s like magic.

There’s no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure you’re not hurt.

Rhys’ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.

You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhys’ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though it’s stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to “be fucking careful.”

“I, uh,” you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, he’s leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans he’s wearing. It’s perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semi— “I need to use the bathroom.”

You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like it’s your ass that’s just been bitten into.

Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.

He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.

“Hey, where did your friend go?” Rhys asks Mor who’s chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.

“Roommate,” Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.

“Okay…where did your roommate go?” He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. He’d gotten his look at you alright, but he’s suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.

“To the bathroom,” she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesn’t reach for anything. “Why?”

Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere private—

“I didn’t really get to introduce myself.” Is what he goes with.

Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. “She’s off limits.”

“Then why did you bring her here?” Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.

“Because we wanted to see your game,” Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.

If you wanted to see my game, you shouldn’t have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.

“Well, thanks for coming, cuz,” he offers, because there’s no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.

He’d rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.

Rhys swiftly changes the subject. “Hope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.”

Mor’s tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.”

It’s at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. You’re caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just who’s putting that look on your face.

Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.

If she’s off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.

And that’s exactly what they are, too, players. Mor’s right, he can’t end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when you’re so close to his cousin. She’d be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. He’d kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.

Rhys doesn’t talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesn’t think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.

“What do we have here?” he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.

It’s James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. You’d recognized him, but didn’t know he played for the Velaris hockey team. He’s a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.

“Oh, hey, Cap,” James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, it’s the one Rhys gets before he’s about to lose his mind on the ice. “I was just talking to (Y/N) about—”

“About nothing,” Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?

“James, wait,” you call, but it’s too late, he’s already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you don’t have supervision to see through them.

Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesn’t look good on him. And neither does that split lip.

You can’t believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.

“That!” You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isn’t facing you, which only stokes your anger further. “I was talking to him!”

“Yeah,” he rounds on his feet so fast you don’t even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.

This time, you don’t tumble into a pile of limbs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“And I’d prefer it if you don’t,” Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.

“Yeah,” you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt you’re wearing ride up more, and both Rhys’ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, “Unlikely.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd

[elenaax]

jude with virgin reader first time

It had been six months since Jude and you started dating, and in that entire time, you never had sex. You’ve done everything else. Sleep together, kiss, touch each other, but you never took it any further than that. It wasn't because you didn’t want to, no way! You wanted him so much. He was always there for you. No matter what happened, he was there.

You and Jude were in the living room, watching your favorite show on Netflix. You were sitting in between his thighs, leaning your head on his shoulder. His hands were wrapped around your waist, his eyes not leaving the tv for a moment. You wanted to get his attention, but you didn’t know how. You were wearing a very sexy set of red lingerie underneath your dress, you were prepared for it. You were planning on it.

"Babe?" you asked just above a whisper, not looking at him. He kept his gaze fixed on the screen, “Yes darling?”. Oh, how you loved when he called you darling, it made your heart flutter every single time. "I have something I need to tell you," you whispered again, this time looking up at him. He looked down at you, the look in his eyes making you weak. They were soft, yet intense at the same time. “What is it babe? You can tell me anything.” He said, his hands now massaging your upper legs as a gesture of affection.

"I-I want you to make love to me.." You said, fiddling with the ends of your dress, breaking eye contact with him. You felt him tense up, "Are you sure you're ready for this?" he asked, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “More than ever Jude”. You said, stroking his bottom lip with your thumb. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, but you tried to play it off.

He turned you over so you were straddling his lap, your faces only inches apart. It felt so good being this close to him. Your breath hitched as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him, your bodies basically being glued together. “Your wish is my command babe”, he said. He had a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite make out, lust maybe? "You'll be gentle with me, right?" you asked, biting your lip. He nodded, "I would never hurt you. You know that." He said.

He looked at you for a while, searching for any kind of discomfort before leaning in and kissing you harshly. You tried to keep up with him, your tongues fighting for dominance. His hands roaming all over your body before he broke the kiss to get rid of your dress. He couldn’t believe his eyes, the red lace bra you were wearing revealing itself, your nipples poking through the material. He ran his thumbs along them, sending sparks of electricity throughout your body.

You started to slowly grind your hips against his, the tension growing thicker with each second passing. You felt something poke on your inner thigh, you glanced down, it was Jude’s boner. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was smirking at you. He took your hand and placed it on his hard one, that was caused by you. “Do you see the impact you have on me darling? You drive me crazy, you’re so fucking beautiful”, he said in a husky tone.

You had never felt more alive than in this moment. You were turned on like never before, your mind was clouded with lust. You leaned in and kissed him. “Take me upstairs”, you whispered against his lips. You didn't have to say anything twice, he picked you up and carried you upstairs.

He gently laid you on the bed, his eyes never leaving yours. He spread your legs and got in between them, hovering over you. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He said. His hands running up and down your thighs, your heart pounding so loud you thought he could hear it too. He unclasped your bra and let it fall to the ground, his eyes stuck on your bare breasts. "They're perfect. Just like you." he said, taking your left nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue.

You let out a soft whimper, arching your back to give him better access. He switched to the right nipple, giving it equal attention. You took his head in your hands, bringing him eye to eye level with you. He kissed the corner of your mouth. “Gonna let me taste you pretty girl?” He said, taking off his shirt. You nodded at him, your eyes wandering off to his abs. “Use your words, darling.” He said sternly. “Y-yes.” You said, suddenly feeling shy about what you were about to do.

He gently took off your panties, throwing it on the ground. You closed your legs, trying to hide yourself from him. With his hand, he nudged your legs apart, “Relax for me, yeah?” he said. You took a deep breath and did as he said, lying there completely exposed in front of him.

He lowered his face towards your center, laying flat on the bed, putting your legs over his shoulders. “So fucking beautiful..” He whispered into your core, making you whimper out loud. He kissed your clit, flicking it with his tongue, sucking it in, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You had no control over the sounds you were making, "Oh God!" you cried out. "Please don't stop." He continued eating you out like a starved man, putting his middle finger into your wet entrance.

His finger kept pumping in and out of you, while his tongue worked wonders on your clit. You were a moaning mess. Jude added another finger, stretching you out. He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting all the sensitive spots inside of you. You felt like you were about to explode, you closed your thighs around his head.

With his other hand, he forcefully pushed them open again. You tried pushing his head away, but he didn’t seem to be planning on letting go. "Stop fighting me, darling.” He whispered. Suddenly you felt a knot in your lower stomach, “J-Jude..” you whined out, not being able to form a coherent sentence. He knew you were not going to last much longer. His fingers were pounding in and out of you at a merciless pace, his tongue still working on your clit, the combination was too much to handle.

You came so hard, you screamed it out, your legs were shaking uncontrollably. Jude held you down, while still licking you, letting you ride out your orgasm. When you had finally calmed down, Jude crawled on top of you, showering you in kisses.

“You taste so fucking sweet." He whispered, kissing you again. You could taste yourself on his lips. You locked your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you. You looked him deeply in the eyes, feeling like you were on cloud 9.

You took his face in your hand. “Fuck me.” You said, not sure of what had gotten into you. His eyes went big, he immediately got off the bed, pulling off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock sprung up, hitting his lower abdomen. You gasped when you saw his cock, wondering how on earth it was going to fit in.

“Jude, it won’t fit.” You said. “I’ll make it fit baby, dont worry. You trust me yeah?” he said looking into your eyes and getting on top of you again. “Yeah.” You said, nodding at him. He leaned forward, placing his arms on each side of your head, caging you in. “Ready?” He said, lining himself up with your entrance. You nodded, your heart beating out of your chest.

He collected your wetness by moving his cock up and down between your folds. He placed his hand on your hip, using it for leverage as he slowly entered you. You felt like the air was being knocked out of your lungs. It hurt so bad, tears prickled your eyes.

Jude kissed you softly, allowing you to moan into his mouth. He began to thrust into you slowly, but you were so tense, he couldn’t. You were so tight, so damn tight. He stopped, taking a deep breath, and kissing your forehead, "Let me in sweetheart. You gotta relax for me.” He said.

You took a deep breath, Jude wiped off the tears that had fallen down your face. You bit your lip and nodded, “Okay..” You said. He started moving in and out of you again, inch by inch, slowly, until you were used to it. You held onto his shoulders tightly, moaning incoherent words.

The pain slowly started to fade away, being replaced by pleasure. Jude was watching your facial expressions intently, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. “Judeeee, s-soo goodd.” You moaned. He started moving faster, harder, deeper. His heavy breathing turning you on even more. You had never felt anything better than this. Everything else seemed dull in comparison. This was pure ecstasy.

He hit your g-spot, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Oh my god, baby, baby, right there!” You screamed out. “Oh, yeah? Right here?” he said, while hitting the spot non stop. His hand sneaking in between your bodies to rub your clit. You threw your head back, gripping the sheets.

You cried it out as you came, your whole body trembling. Jude still thrusting his hips in and out of you, chasing his own high now. He groaned, before kissing you softly. "You okay?" He asked. You nodded. "Do you need a break, baby?" He asked, not wanting to hurt you any further. "No, please don't stop. I want you to finish. Please." You said, totally fucked out.

Jude’s thrusts were starting to get sloppy, his breathing getting heavier. He pulled out just in time and came on your stomach, grunting heavily. He collapsed on top of you, you ran your nails on his back, trying to calm him down.

“Baby, that was.. Amazing.” You said. He smiled, kissing your cheek, "That means a lot, especially considering how scared you were. Let's take a warm shower, shall we?” He asked, getting off the bed.

You nodded, and he helped you off the bed, walking to the bathroom. You were sore, and you knew tomorrow would be even worse, but it was all worth it. It was the best night of your life.

[callsignserpent]

🇦🇹 König x Medic Reader Headcanons 🇦🇹

The whole ordeal was meant to start out innocently, believe it or not.

This giant boi had come walking into the medical bay after one particularly tough mission, sporting multiple lacerations across one arm and his face, along with a few bruises.

The way he'd sat there quietly as he waited for his turn, grumbling to himself in German, something about how he "doesn't need the hospital".

But when it was finally his turn and he'd seen you? Oh, this man was a goner, from the very beginning.

It was like a switch had been flicked, his whole demeanor changing in a snap.

Grumbling, stubborn 6'8" Austrian now becomes quiet, curiously observant patient.

"How did you get these?" you'd asked, gesturing to the cuts visible beneath the torn sections of his shirt.

"Die Mission verlief nicht gut", he'd simply responded in German, shrugging like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You'd been with KorTac long enough to have picked up several fluent phrases here and there, so you sort of understood him. Kind of.

You'd told him you needed to clean the cuts and bruises, and like a good soldier, he'd sat there and taken it, only wincing once, when you'd gone to clean the cut along the edge of his jawline, visible beneath the torn, ragged section of his sniper hood.

"Es tut mir Leid..." you'd hastily apologized.

The utter look of shock that passed over König's face when he heard you speak his native tongue-!

"Du sprichst Deutsch?" he'd grunted, trying not to crack a smile, to which you'd nodded and held up a finger and thumb inches apart, indicating you spoke just a little.

He'd seemed almost thoughtfully quiet after that, sitting and watching you as you worked.

Once you were done, König had seemed almost.. disappointed? ...that the time had gone by too quickly.

You'd dismissed him quietly with a gentle smile, telling him he was welcome back any time if he needed something.

And you better believe this man took those words to heart, quite literally.

Because not even three days later, he was back again, this time for just a small series of scrapes he'd sustained along the backs of his knuckles, presumably from a tussle with someone else.

"Ich würde den anderen Kerl ungern sehen, ja?" you'd joked in broken German, upon which König had accidentally cracked a grin beneath his hood, before he'd corrected himself.

"Your German is getting better, maus..." he'd answered, his tone unusually soft that day.

The answering blush in your face that little nickname had produced, that was a look König would picture several times in his head later that night.

From that point on, he would make it his mission to call you cute little nicknames like "maus", "liebling", "meine lieb"...

He'd also make it a point to try and find some excuse or another to see you throughout the week.

"Colonel, it's just mild allergies."

"Colonel, you're not bleeding, it's fine. Nein, you don't need stitches. Ja, I'm sure."

To which he'd insist "König. Und ja, it'll get better faster if you look at it, liebling, bitte?"

Everyone on KorTac's base eventually noticed how their Colonel had become a frequent flyer to the infirmary, their hushed whispers sometimes being overheard.

"Surely he can't be getting hurt that often?" "Is he clumsy, or is it on purpose?" "Maybe it's just bad luck...?"

Little did they all know, you were the real reason he kept showing up.

You yourself were sort of oblivious the first couple of times, until you eventually caught on.

König would even wait until your shift was done for the day, trying to appear casual as he leaned against the doorway to the infirmary, having to duck down a little due to his monstrous height.

Sometimes he'd bring you little gifts too, little things you could keep at your work station, or take back to barracks with you.

(The little stuffed brown bear dressed in a nurse's uniform was your pride and joy, always sat on display at your desk.)

On a more serious note, there was only ever one time he had scared the living shit out of you, when he had gotten really hurt.

A few of KorTac's best had been sent out on a mission, and König had been among them. When he'd gotten back, it was... bad.

You'd never seen so much blood in your life, and you weren't even sure half of it was actually his.

You'd spent that entire night (and the next) looking after him, surviving off coffee and pure adrenaline just to stay awake for him.

And when he'd finally opened his eyes a day later, even his badly torn sniper hood couldn't hide the soft grin that lit up this man's face.

"Mein liebling, sie sind hier?"

The light swat you'd given him, combined with the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, his gaze would soften so fast.

"I thought I was gonna lose you, Kö..."

"Nein, meine kleine maus, Ich würde dich zu sehr vermissen." came his gentle reply.

From that point on, the two of you were nearly inseparable; wherever you went, he would follow, and vice versa.

It would eventually reach the point where if anyone would try and mess with you, they'd very quickly be warned not to fuck with "the Colonel's girl".

You'd rather liked the sound of that, perhaps a little more than you should.

Being König's favorite person, that wasn't so bad.. right?

💀 TAGLIST: @nixwolfe @konigsbeloved @konigsblog @konigslittleliebling @kghostly @konigsqueen @konig-brain-rot @your-booklover-gal @konig-breedme @konig-is-bbygrl @koenigsbleachedshirt

[wannabespacesmuggler]

D.D. | Shane's Girl

Part Eight | Masterlist | Buy me a coffee | Check out the playlist

Summary: Daryl Dixon knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you when he’s alone at night in his tent. Hell, he shouldn’t even be looking at you throughout the day. You’re not his. You’re Shane’s girl. But Daryl doesn’t like the way Shane treats you. And he certainly doesn’t like how you’re forced to play ‘loving girlfriend’ to a man with eyes for another woman at the camp.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female!Reader

Warnings: Trigger warning for abusive behavior, Shane showing his true colors, Shane Walsh sucks

Word Count: 1.6K

Author’s Note: OKAY — apologies for the wait. I had a brief bought of hyperfixation on Logan Howlett and couldn't focus on anything other than X-Men since Deadpool and Wolverine came out. But now that the new season of Daryl Dixon is coming out, I am back in the fucking building. I still have a lot planned for this little fic, so let me know if you guys are still enjoying. This is very much a turning point in the story for the reader.

You let out a frustrated sigh as you set down one of the novels Dale had loaned you during one of your first days at the quarry camp. He just so happened to have overheard you complaining to Shane about not bringing anything to pass the time during the quiet hours at the end of the day when all chores and other responsibilities had been taken care of. Of course, Shane had brushed off your complaint — reminding you that you all had much bigger problems than your boredom. That was the first time since the world's end that you noticed his bitterness towards you and the first time you allowed yourself to believe that your feelings were insignificant, idiotic even, because of the word of Shane Walsh. That is until Dale appeared beside you at the campfire that night with a small stack of books from his RV — an act of kindness in an increasingly cruel world. 

You hoped that some light reading would distract you from everything — the dead rising, Shane’s constant negligence, Daryl’s sudden indifference. But, instead, you have the same sinking feeling in your gut that you woke up with. The very feeling that began last night after overhearing Daryl’s words to his brother. 

She don’t mean nothing to me. 

You shake your head at the memory and try to rid yourself of the look on Daryl’s face at the realization that you’d been listening last night — regret and sorrow mixing with the anger he felt towards his brother. A part of you felt sorry for him. And that part of you yearned to comfort him last night after he argued with his brother and wanted to apologize for eavesdropping. But the truth is, his words hurt you more than you care to admit because you have grown to care for the younger Dixon more than you care to admit. And that embarrasses you because wasn’t this hurt the very thing that Shane had warned you about when the brothers first joined the quarry camp?

Don’t go near those Dixons — they’re nothing but trouble. 

You sigh yet again before picking the book back up, but before you can return to reading, a strong pair of hands wrap around your shoulders. Shane. His touch should comfort you, but all you feel right now is anxiety as you wait for the other shoe to drop. In the few weeks you’ve been at the quarry camp, you’ve come to realize that Shane’s gentleness can turn to cruelty without warning — like the flip of a switch. His hands squeeze your shoulders tighter as they tense under his touch. 

“What’s on your mind?”

You shake your head at his question and turn to look at him. His features are surprisingly soft this morning and etched with concern as he studies your face. Your heart aches as he reminds you of the Shane who had begged Lori incessantly for your phone number. The Shane who brought you coffee during his patrols and wouldn’t shut up about you in the cruiser with Rick. The Shane who you had begun to fall in love with before the dead started walking the earth. You reach up and cover one of his hands with yours — the touch being your attempt at offering an olive branch after weeks of tension and hostility. 

“Nothing. Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

Shane hums softly while rubbing your shoulders. Against your better judgment, you lean into his touch. The two of you stay like this for a few minutes, silently enjoying each other’s company. Eventually, movement to your left catches your attention. You observe as Andrea helps T-Dog and Glenn prepare the van for today’s excursion. Glenn doubles over in laughter over something T-Dog said to Andrea, and there’s a sudden, deep pain in your chest as you watch T-Dog join in on the laughter and clap Glenn on the back of his shoulder — like someone plunged a knife into your heart and twisted. There’s a camaraderie forming among the members of the quarry camp — a camaraderie that you feel on the outskirts of.

“I heard about the run happening today, the one to Atlanta. I want to go with.”

Shane lets out a disappointed sigh, and your face drops at the sound. You thought maybe he'd be a little more lenient since he seems to be in a good mood today.

“I think they’ve got enough people. Adding another will probably only slow them down.”

Your brow furrows at Shane’s words as you feel your temper rising. Since the world ended, all Shane has done is underestimate you. You simply want the chance to prove yourself. You square your shoulders before responding. 

“I already talked to Glenn this morning — he said they could use another person out there.”

Shane’s hold on your shoulders tightens, and you clench your jaw due to the sudden pain. You take in a shaky breath, waiting for his response. 

“You should have talked to me first.”

His voice is ice cold, utterly devoid of the care and concern he’d shown you moments ago. The sound makes a shiver run down your spine. This isn’t your Shane. And you know that. You know you’ve been holding onto the idea of a man that you lost when the government dropped bombs on the entire city of Atlanta. And you know that you’ve been holding on so tight because you yearn to feel an ounce of normalcy. You’d been holding onto the hope that you’d wake up tomorrow to a cure and life would return to as it was before — this would just be something you’d reminisce about over coffee with Shane, Lori, and Rick years from now. But even with a cure, things can’t return to normal. Not after everything you’ve seen. Not after Shane’s shown you the cruelty he hides under the charm.

“I just want to contribute — pull my weight around here.”

The grip he has on your shoulders is unrelenting. A part of you thinks he wants his touch to leave behind a bruise — a reminder of this moment where he is in total control. A reminder of how small he can make you feel. 

“You can start by pulling your weight in camp. Lori needs help with the laundry.”

Your brow furrows at his words, and you grind your teeth together in frustration. You want to fight back, but the pain in your shoulders is becoming too much to bear. So, instead of talking back, you bite your tongue and silently nod at his words. You just hope he’ll let you go if you do what he says. Thankfully, Shane relents and backs away from you. You immediately stand from your chair, abandoning the novel on the table, as you waste no time putting distance between yourself and him. You can feel Shane’s eyes still on you as you walk away, but you don’t turn back. Instead, you keep moving until you find Lori. You collapse into the seat beside her with a heavy sigh. She looks up from the wash basin and meets your eyes.

“Bad day?”

“You could say that again. I heard you could use some help, though.”

A soft laugh escapes Lori’s lips as she slides a basket of dirty clothing your way. The familiar sound eases your nerves, and you realize you can let your guard down now. It’s just you and Lori sitting down by the quarry, and you know that she would never do anything to purposefully hurt you — not like Shane. 

“I can always use the help — the dirty laundry just never seems to end around here. And the company is always nice.”

You smile at her before grabbing the basket she slid your way. Your brow furrows as you notice a familiar pair of dark, tattered jeans. During the past few weeks with the younger Dixon, you’ve learned that Daryl never throws his clothes in the communal laundry baskets. Unlike his brother, he prefers to wash his clothes himself. You push your curiosity aside, resisting the urge to scan your surroundings yet again. You’ll never admit it, but despite your frustration towards Daryl, you’ve spent all morning hoping to see his familiar figure lingering around the outskirts of the camp. You swallow your disappointment and pick up the jeans. 

You check to ensure he’d left nothing in his pockets — remembering the all-out brawl that almost occurred when Merle discovered a soggy pack of cigarettes in his back pocket after Andrea had done the laundry. In your search, you find a folded piece of paper in one of his front pockets. Surprise washes over your features as you look down at the paper and see your name written in messy handwriting. You unfold the note, and your disappointment melt away as you read the words.

Gone out hunting. Won’t be back til tomorrow. Sorry for being an ass. Be careful. - D

Lori looks up from her wash basin and notices the note in your hands. She leans ever-so-slightly closer to you as she attempts to peek over your shoulder. 

“What is that?”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you realize just what this is — Daryl’s attempt at extending an olive branch. He is trying to make things right with you because, despite what he might have said to Merle last night, he cares. You haven’t misinterpreted his actions or become attached to a man who wants nothing to do with you. Quickly, you fold the paper back up and stuff it in your pocket.

“Just something that Daryl left in his pocket. Nothing special.”

But that’s a lie. The note would probably be insignificant to anyone else in the quarry camp. But to you, it means the world. Like Dale’s simple act of offering you a stack of books, it’s a reminder that though your world may be falling apart at your feet, there are still people who will show you kindness in an increasingly cruel world.

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