#biggest complaint not enough biting | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

caraphernellie · 2 months

Note

can u write ellie with dacryphillia

absolutely. i might be a little obsessed with dacryphilia m sorry (not) and i swear ellie would LOVE to see it. she would go crazy. also my first time posting smut with a strap somehow i haven't posted any yet. now bare with me ok. this was also kind of inspired by a video i saw on twitter that was like... sorta ellie coded. (anything involving a grey hoodie makes me think of her now) (oops)

cw: softdom! ellie at the start, mean dom! ellie, sub! brat! reader, kind of shy! reader, strap on sex (r!receiving), riding, missionary, rough sex, dacryphilia obvs, degrading, strap referred to as cock and dick, nicknames such as good girl, baby, babe, slut, straight up porn without plot xx

info: ok so... you know me. biggest softdom ellie truther. at least for jackson ellie. now i raise you: softdom ellie who has a gf in a bratty mood and she's starting to get annoyed by letting you have your way too often... so she basically jackhammers u until u get the point! she's in charge here <3

・wc: 1.2k

“kay, faster now.”

ellie’s order falls on deaf ears for the millionth time and she’s starting to reach a limit. she has been for some time now. she’s too soft, and who could blame her? her brain turns to mush the minute she’s got you this way.

dazzling green eyes focusing in on the way your body moves, the rippling of skin and contortions of your belly. her hands find home on the spaces between your ribs and your hips, thumbs rubbing circles as you bounce on her strap.

“hey,” ellie tries her best with you, putting on a stern tone now, and her hand weakly slaps one of your tits. she bites back a smirk of pride at your jolt. “do you hear me?”

you definitely do. but hearing isn’t the same as listening or even caring. not when the rhythmic circles your hips are moving in are scratching that itch so good. it’s satisfying the pit of warm need in your stomach that’s been waiting all day. the pit you begged and begged ellie to help you out with.

it’s how you ended up here, ellie still half dressed in her grey pullover and you on her lap with nothing but an unzipped hoodie on.

“aww, i thought you said you were desperate, baby,” ellie continues, “what’s this?”

a shiver runs down your spine, ellie’s hand moving over the expanse of skin on your stomach and squeezing your tit. she’s on two trains of thought, distracted by the way the soft ball of flesh fits in her hand, and trying to keep you in line. because what ellie can feel is her power slipping out of her grip no matter how hard she squeezes your body under her palms.

“so you’re not even gonna talk to me?”

a fire ignites in ellie when you move slower, rolling your hips down onto her cock, the depth eliciting a drawn out and long moan from you.

“god, can you not be fuckin’ stupid for two seconds?” ellie asks, never genuine when she gets like this albeit it’s a rare occurrence for sure. she starts to buck her hips upward, fucking into you while forcing you to change your pace – her hands grip meaty thighs and begin bouncing you up and down. she revels in the way you mewl a little louder, the sight of your tits bouncing.

“like this. don’t let me tell you twice, baby. i mean it.” voice strained from the effort of her movements, ellie grunts and finally releases you. “you said you were desperate, so we’re making this quick, and i don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

i’m too nice to you sometimes, ellie thinks to herself. but she believes it pays off. she lives for the control, but she’s a more gentle lover. normally it’s enough to get you to listen just like it has right now, with you continuing at the pace she set. she watches with a satisfied smirk, her thumb reaching down languidly to flick at your clit.

“there she is, good girl.”

sometimes (most of the time), ellie gives in. she lets you do as you please. she never gets to hear you beg because she’s so weak for you, so eager to make her girl feel good, that she will give you exactly what you need when you ask. she will give up on trying to reign you in and do what she wants you to, only because the sight you are is already so convincing that ellie doesn’t mind. anything to see it, the furrow in your brows, your eyes rolling back. anything to see a happy, fucked out expression on your face.

so it’s no surprise ellie’s seeing a rise in bratty behaviour, she enables it. she shouldn’t complain, but she will anyway. it’s her fault and damn, she needs to do something about it before it gets worse. she’s had a busy week and doesn’t need this. because ellie hates her authority to be challenged by one of the only people she even has authority over.

the fade of ellie’s smirk comes with the fade of speed. she hears the sweetest giggle escape your lips and she knows you’re treating this like some kind of joke now and she can’t have that.

“we’re not doing this again, babe.” ellie’s voice is a low rasp by this point, the slightest bit of amusement present. what you expect might be another spank to the thigh before she inevitably gives in to you, but that’s not what comes your way.

this time it’s ellie chuckling. you yelp loudly as she flips you onto your back. she’s on top now, wasting no time, and she slides into you again.

everything happens too fast for you to fully process it, but she’s pounding into you now. the sounds of skin slapping, the squelching of ellie’s thrusts into your poor cunt, and your nonstop moans – it’s filthy. ellie can’t stop it now, grunts of effort made as she hooks your legs around her waist. if she didn’t know any better, she’d make some point about being able to see her cock poking and bulging out of your tummy, her thrusts deep and carnal.

hands balling the sleeves of your jacket into paws, you hide behind them, finding this to be one of the most intimate and closest experiences you’ve had. ellie’s caging your head between her arms, lip drawn between her teeth, eyes piercing down at you. she takes grip of your wrists and pins them down, laughing at you. “yeah, look at me, baby. look… who’s making you feel this good? who owns you?”

your eyes grow half-lidded and ellie’s face becomes a blur, tears clouding your vision whilst all you can do is halfheartedly moan her name in response.

“poor baby,” ellie mocks, her voice a hoarse coo, as soft as she can manage. it’s a harsh comparison to the reckless power of her hips. as long as you will sing your pleasure to her, she won’t stop. “i thought you wanted it so bad, you wanted my dick so bad, so what’s your deal?”

“mm… n- noth–” you try, you try to speak, but things are getting fuzzy. there’s nothing to occupy your busy mind besides her. ellie, ellie, ellie.

you’re brought out of the fuzziness for a moment when ellie cups your face to wipe a tear off your cheek.

“you just needed me to do all the work for you, huh? so you can lay there cryin’ ‘cuz it just feels that good to get fucked like this?”

all you do is nod, pitiful moans and whimpers flooding ellie’s senses, egging her on just as much as the sight of her strap covered in your essence does.

“i try so hard to be nice to you, baby, feels like you just–” ellie takes one particularly hard thrust into your sopping cunt, “--take advantage of that like a slut…”

“m’sorry,” you squeak, hands wrapping around her shoulders, pulling her closer, closer, closer, nails digging into her back and eliciting a hiss. she’s getting sloppier now, tired and finding that the base of the strap is pressing too well into her clit, making her near delirious, like it’s her real dick she’s fucking you with.

“who’s in charge?” ellie demands to know, glaring down at you but with no malice, there’s nothing but lust and amazement as hot tears streak your cheeks. “who are you gonna obey next time?”

“you.”

“who?”

“ellie, ellie, ellie ellie ellie.”

“that’s right,” ellie scoffs with a nod. “good girl.”

shes so pretty and i need her really bad and um um um um

578 notes · View notes

thatanimeramenchick · 2 months

Text

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Part One

No one asked for this, but whatever. Bite me. I’ll get to the asks, I swear

3,516 words

Part Two - Part Three

–-

The last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself. In a place like hell, where the worst of society sunk together and only somehow seemed to get worse, it was a good idea to not catch other people’s eyes. If their eyes were on you, it was almost never for a good reason.

So when you decided to start working, it made sense you would do something quiet and in the background like data filing for a large media company. While there were many more unsavory jobs that paid more, you wanted to avoid the obvious and dangerous crime life of hell as much as possible in your daily life. You had had enough of being unwillingly tied up in that kind of stuff when you were alive. You might as well spend your eternity in some type of peace, or at least as much as someone in hell can get.

So, you made sure you were presentable as you walked into Voxtekk on your first day to work, dressed simple business attire and keeping a quiet demeanor.

“There you are!” said who you presumed was your new boss, a short man with glasses and a blue hair dye, “Was wondering if you were going to show up!”

“Sorry,” you said, “The traffic was bad.”

“Well, you better get used to leaving early,” he said, “Traffic is always a bitch in this part of Pentagram City.”

He continued to speak as he led you to the elevator.

“So, I’ve been told you have a lot of experience with this sort of thing on earth,” he said.

“Yes, I did library work while I was alive,” you said.

And some smuggling. Especially with weapons.

You didn’t think it would be necessary to tell him that though. The job had come in handy though by giving you a knack for remembering where things were.

“Good, good,” he said, “I expect you’ll be able to figure out how to do this on your own then.”

He led you to a room that was filled with file drawers as well as a large computer off to the side.

“There’s thousands, if not millions, of files in here, both physically and digitally. It’ll be your responsibility to make sure that everything new brought in gets put in its proper place, as well as that anything that is requested can be easily found,” he said, “As the biggest media company in hell, it’s important that we know at all times where every piece of information or media can be located.”

It was overwhelming, like the world’s largest and most complicated library. It made your head spin a little looking at it all, but you always liked a challenge.

“You think you can handle it?” he asked.

You nod with some confidence, though you don’t quite feel it. This was going to take some getting used to.

“I hope for both our sakes you’re right,” he said, “Last filer I hired couldn’t tell left from right and Vox fried me to a crisp. Took me a good week before I was able to regenerate properly.”

Crap, that sounded bad. Note to self, don’t let that happen to you.

“I think I’ll be all right,” you said.

---

It was a bit overwhelming the first few weeks. You were competent enough to keep things in order though. Your experience was paying off, and you weren’t hearing any complaints or news about any assistants getting fried, so you supposed you were doing your job well enough.

Within two months of starting your job, you finally met the rumored big man himself. He had come in one day, visibly in a bad mood as he walked over to your desk, a man trailing behind him.

“I don’t know why I even pay you morons,” he said, “I have to hear important information secondhand from fucking Valentino because you can’t be bothered to keep up with what’s happening in hell.”

“Look, sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to not tell you,” he said, “I just didn’t think you’d care.”

Vox had stormed over to your desk.

“So you KNEW and thought it would be a good idea to just not tell me at all?” he said.

“T-that’s not it! I just-”

Vox held up a hand to interrupt him before turning to you.

“I want the file we have in here on Alastor,” he said, a static buzz of irritation on the last word, “Now.”

“Of course, sir,” you said.

You hurried over to the file cabinet and quickly located it.

“See, not everyone around here is as useless as you are,” Vox said to his other employee.

You saw the hapless employee mutter something under his breath out of the corner of your eye, and before you knew it a chain had appeared and Vox yanked him closer.

“What was that?” he said

“N-nothing, sir!” said the now visibly sweating employee.

A shock went through the poor guy before Vox released him.

“Useless,” he said, “You know what? I think you need some time learning exactly who is in charge around here.”

Vox pointed a clawed finger at you.

“You,” he said, “It’s your lucky day, kid. You wanna promotion?”

“Um… yes?” you said.

“Great. Samuel, have fun in janitorial work for the next decade,” he said, “You’re being replaced. What’s your name?”

“F/N,” you said.

“Hope you have customer service experience as well as filing,” he said, “You’re moving up to my office. Need someone with a functioning brain to run the front desk. Pack up!”

You hesitated for a minute before grabbing the stuff under your desk. You figured the last thing you wanted to do was piss this guy off more than he already looked.

---

Despite him being in such a bad mood that first day, you soon found that most of the time Vox was relatively calm, at least compared to what you heard about the other employers in this building. While he at times could get pretty irritated with things, especially if a certain never-to-be-named demon was brought up by an idiot intern, he rarely took it out on you. He usually took the daily bothers of running the company in stride.

Besides that, running a front desk of an office wasn’t too different than running the front desk at the library. You didn’t have to do near as much organizing in terms of files, but you still did spend a lot of time making sure that everything in Vox’s life was organized from his meetings to when he had lunch.

He didn’t talk much with you outside of work related stuff, which is why you were so surprised when you found out what he was doing one day.

It was a nice enough morning, at least as much as a nice morning can be in hell. You took a sip of your coffee briefly as you stretched and looked out your office window. While you missed the blue sky of earth, the red sky of hell had its own sort of charm you supposed. You glanced down, looking at the people walking back and forth, small as ants. Running around willy nilly. Someone was moving into the building that afternoon, a common occurrence here, as you had heard talk that Valentino liked to keep his employees in close quarters. Seems like they had a similar taste in furniture to your own. Almost frighteningly so.

Except… wait. Was that your sofa? And your dresser? Your bookshelves? You lowered your coffee to the windowsill as you squinted down at your entire catalog of furniture being moved into the building. Something wasn’t right.

You knocked on your boss’s door and entered in a bit of a rush as you heard him say to come in.

“Vox, what on earth is going on?” you asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“F/N, that could be ten different things. I need you to be more specific,” he asked, his tone nonchalant as he didn’t even look up from his phone.

“I just saw what I’m pretty sure was all my belongings being moved into the building,” you said.

“Oh yes, that. Well, I had wanted to surprise you, but I guess it’s too late for that,” he said, somewhat absently, “I hate that you have to take such a long commute to the other side of town. And I know all the apartments there are so run down, I figured I’d just move you into the studio like a lot of our other valued staff.”

What? While it was true your apartment was kind of rinky dinky, it was yours. And you liked the privacy and soft solitude it offered after work. Besides, you didn’t like the idea of your boss just moving you willy nilly without your permission. Still, you didn’t want to show him you were upset.

“Vox, you don’t have to do this,” you said, “I’m ok with where I’m at. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Think of it as a courtesy as my secretary,” he said.

You could feel your entire face tighten as you got more frustrated. Some of it was probably starting to show, despite your best efforts.

“I never asked for this though,” you said, trying to tread carefully, “and I like my old apartment. I… I don’t really want this...”

“But you do want this,” he said, finally looking up at you, “You want to be in a nicer apartment, closer to work, safer, don’t you? You always want to be here.”

That… You supposed that was true. Something about his tone soothed you, sent a pleasant lull through your skull and made your body relax as he looked in your eyes. Your protests now seemed a bit foolish and childish. In all honesty, you supposed it just made sense that you move in to the studio. Everything you needed was here, truly, why would you want to live away from here? You did want a nicer apartment without the stressful commute.

“O-ok,” you said, a small uncomfortable feeling of doubt still in your stomach, “Yeah. That’s true. I do want to be here more… closer to the office...”

He smiled at that and walked over to you. He placed an arm around you, guiding you back to your own office.

“Of course you do! And besides I already had them move everything here, so why don’t you just go back to work, and they’ll have finished moving everything in by the time your shift is done,” Vox said, “I guarantee once you’ve had time to think it through you’ll be glad we did it.”

“If you say so,” you said.

As he walked you back to your desk, he continued his calming chatter.

“That’s a good girl. You and I both have a lot of work today, anyway, so I think we can agree that you should just focus on that for now,” he said as he nudged over to your desk.

You sat down and turned to the planner on your desk as you heard your boss walk into his personal office and closed the door. You just stare blankly for a good minute, feeling a little light, like you were on Zoloft before shaking your head back and forth. Might as well just go back to work. You could think more about this later.

---

It had been happening so slowly. One day, week, month at a time, Vox was implementing himself into your life inch by inch, despite the fact that the two of you weren’t bound on paper. He had moved you into the building, where you knew that you were almost constantly on camera. He kept you so loaded down with work you barely had a social life anymore, with no time to hang out with friends or date. The pay was ok, you supposed, but it felt minuscule compared to the amount of work he was expecting you to do on a daily basis.

And then there was the… weirder things that had been happening. Whenever you tried to talk to him, he had a way of getting you to forget about whatever it was you were upset about, at least for a little while. But it would always come back eventually, and as you thought about it more, it irritating you that he was dismissing your concerns.

You hadn’t really noticed it until he had gone on vacation for a week with the other Vees. You had been quite busy with work, but without him there to calm you down whenever your “concerns” came up, you realized that maybe you had let your priorities get a little askew. You needed a career change.

So, perhaps against your better judgment, a few days after he had returned, you had left a two weeks notice on his desk before he came in. It only took about fifteen minutes after he came in for him to summon you to his office.

“F/N? What is this?” he asked, holding out the letter.

“It’s my resignation,” you said, trying to sound steady and confident.

“I’m sorry… your what?” he said

“I-I regret to inform you that I will be moving out and relocating to the Doomsday Sector in two weeks,” you said, “I appreciate all that you’ve done here for me as I worked here, but I am making a career change.”

He looked baffled for a second, like he couldn’t believe what you were saying before chuckling a little.

“No, you’re not,” he said, “You don��t want to leave he-”

“Stop!” you yelled out with more force than you intended.

As soon as he had started speaking that familiar fuzzy feeling had entered your mind, and you had closed your eyes, shaking your head. You didn’t want him talking you out of this.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said, as you reopened your eyes, but didn’t really look at him, “But I don’t want to talk about this.”

It was awkwardly silent for a minute.

“Is it a pay thing?” he finally asked, “Because that can be adjusted. You do good work. I certainly wouldn’t mind paying you more.”

“It’s not a pay thing,” you said, “It’s not anything. I-I don’t want to talk about this, so I’m going to go-”

“You’re not leaving!” he said, slamming his fist on his desk.

You jumped, a little surprised at his reaction. While you knew he wouldn’t be thrilled, you hadn’t expected him to be so volatile. He was always so calm and collected that this kind of reaction to something so minuscule confused you.

“Vox, I know you like my work, but I think you’re overreacting a little bit,” you said.

“Overreacting?” he said, looking pissed, “Overreacting?!”

He grasped at the air, a look of surprise entering his face when no chain appeared. You look at him bewildered. Had he really just tried to…?

“Vox, we don’t have a contract?” you said, “Did you forget that?”

Had he really gotten so comfy with you that he thought that you were another one of his little pets? To hell with the two week notice, you were going today.

“I think I should go back to work,” you said.

He didn’t say anything as you went back to your desk. You finished filing information extra fast that day, doing a bit of a sloppy job. As soon as it was noon, you left for what appeared to be a lunch break, but you had decided was actually going to be your escape.

This situation was getting uncomfortable. You hurried to your room and haphazardly threw clothes and necessities into your suitcase. Anything you left behind on accident you would just have to replace. On a final note, you shoved your wallet into your back pocket and walked over to the door.

Except it didn’t open. The nob didn’t even turn when you yanked on it. You tried it a few times, to no avail.

“Dammit,” you murmured under your breath, and you pounded your fist on the door.

You were about ready to start kicking it when you heard a burst of static behind you. You turned to see your boss coming in through the camera system. While it had always been an eerie feature to your arrangements, it was a million more times so to see Vox using it to his full advantage.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked.

“I should be the one asking that,” he said, “Just where do you think you’re going?”

“None of your damn business!” you said, “I don’t know what security you have on this door, but you better take it off now or-”

“Or?” he asked.

Now it was your turn to look tense as he gave you a self-satisfied smirk. You could feel your face flushing in a quiet rage as he spoke. Though you were hiding them behind your back, you could feel your fists clenching, as well as the shape of you mouth hardening.

“Vox, you are being ridiculous! We don’t even have a contract! I’m not bound to you, so you can’t keep me here,” you said.

He cocked his head at you, raising an eyebrow, “Oh really now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his tone only pissed you off more.

“Yes, really!” you yelled, “I’m not staying here. I’m leaving whether you want me to or not.”

“And just how do you expect to do that?” asked Vox, “Jump out the window? I mean you could splatter yourself on the ground, but it’d be a bit rude considering I’ll have to send some unlucky interns to scrape you off the pavement and put you back in your room until you regenerate.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in and clenching and unclenching your hands with an unnecessary amount of force. You tried to calm your voice down.

“Vox, I understand that you like the work I do for you, but you’re being ridiculous,” you said.

“You think this about work?” he said, “F/N, don’t act stupid. I can get a new secretary anytime I want, ten secretaries. You and I both know that’s not what this is about.”

You looked at him confused. It wasn’t?

“For someone who is so smart with data, you are being so unbelievably slow right now.”

He advanced on you, causing you to shrink against the frame of the door as he leaned over you. He pushed you against the wall and gripped your chin in his hand, forcing you to look him in the eye. It all happened in a flash, too fast to register, and before you could realize it, he was pulling you into a rough kiss.

It wasn’t what you had expected, though it wasn’t as if you had thought a lot about what kissing your boss would feel like. On the rare occasions when you had wondered about it, you had assumed kissing Vox would be like kissing the screen of a laptop. Apparently though, he had a literal working mouth as you could clearly tell from the sensation of his tongue and even teeth connecting with your own. Your chin ached in his firm grip, which could have been more tender if it didn’t feel like he was keeping you from turning your face away. You tried to do so, but he didn’t even seem to notice it, he was so preoccupied.

He held you like this for a good two or three minutes, his saliva coating your mouth. Though it was barely there, you could feel a slight buzz to it, as if some of his electricity was in his fluids. He finally released you though, some of his spit getting on your lips as he removed himself. A sigh filled the air as your lips parted.

“Even better than I thought it would be,” he murmured

He shifted a bit and was leaning in for another kiss when you kicked him in the shins.

“Ow!” he said, releasing you and giving you time to dart away.

You had moved in a burst to the other side of the room, glaring at him with what you hoped was resentment. There was also something else though. A feeling of deep rooted anxiety and fear was stirring in full force, despite the fact that over the past few months you had been pushing it down as much as possible. You hoped he couldn’t see the weakness in you.

Whether he did or not though, you could tell he was visibly pissed for a minute. He finally got his features under control, but as he spoke his tone held all of the avarice that had left his face.

“Whatever,” he said, “Contract or not, you’re still mine, and you’re not going anywhere until you accept that. Throw a tantrum if you want to, but you’re stuck here.”

You watched as he went back into the camera system as easily as he had come. You curled up on the floor, burying your face in your arms.

#yandere x reader #hazbin hotel #vox #yandere vox #vox x reader

769 notes · View notes

another-lost-mc · 10 months

Note

Gonna be completely honest tho. Like yes they are hot in the vampire au but I would be terrified. Like I hate needles and all of that and idk I just feel like I'd be too freaked out for it to be enjoyable? Does that make sense??

A/N: Honestly, same here, anon. lol I think my own MC would find the whole situation exhausting mentally if not physically. There's a lot of valid reasons why any MC might not want to get caught up in this whole mess.

In a lighthearted vampire AU, the characters might feel that vampirism is more of a nuisance than anything else. Ultimately, I think they'd still try to prioritize MC's wishes and comfort over their own needs. It would motivate them to find an alternative solution for blood/feeding (especially if it were a long-term/permanent condition).

This Sucks! | Why They Don't Want to be Vampires Vampire!DEMON BROTHERS x gn!Reader, 0.5k words, SFW Content warnings: references to canon-typical vampire behaviours including biting/blood-drinking. More from the vampire!au

─── LUCIFER

Lucifer doesn’t like depending on anyone for anything. This would be an extra burden for you personally, and the last thing he wants is for life at his side with them to be even more challenging. His brothers would be unbearable if he tried to claim your blood for himself, and he knows in his heart he doesn’t want to share you. (A trivial concern is that his fondness for Demonus, even a blood-infused version of it, might be ruined by vampirism—it’s one of the few luxuries he allows himself to indulge in.)

─── MAMMON

Mammon's too greedy to share you. If you don’t want to donate your blood, that’s even better—that way no one gets to feed from you! He’s also going to be busy figuring out how he can capitalize on blood alternatives if the condition isn’t temporary.

─── LEVIATHAN

Levi's disappointed because vampires in anime are so hot cool, but he’s intimidated by the physical intimacy of it. Oh, and he hates the thought of others wanting to feed from you too. (What if you compare them and you prefer feeding the others more than him?!)

─── SATAN

Human pop culture is so inconsistent with their monster lore. Satan understands that the reality of feeding a vampire (or in this case, seven of them) is daunting and less appealing than the fictional version you've read about or seen in movies. Besides, he has enough anger management issues to deal with—bloodlust would be an extra hassle. He's one of the first to volunteer to find a better a solution for feeding if the vampirism is permanent.

─── ASMODEUS

Asmo doesn’t want to drink anyone’s blood. Wouldn’t it make his breath smell? What if it gets all over his clothes? If he drinks from you in his bed, the stains might ruin his expensive Devilmoth silk sheets! He might seem superficial about it, but his biggest complaint is the possibility that feeding might scar you or hurt you in some way. Leaving his mark on you sounds appealing, but not like that—especially if you're already hesitant about the idea. (He's secretly worried one of the others might try to talk you into something you don't want to do, and he wants to make sure his own judgement isn't clouded so he can help protect you.)

─── BEELZEBUB

Beel has so many issues with hunger and self-control that the thought of being hungry for your blood upsets him a lot. He’s so scared of hurting you, and when he’s out of control with hunger it's difficult to stop him. What if the others can’t subdue him in time? What if—? No, he doesn’t even want to think about it.

─── BELPHEGOR

Belphie assumes that drinking blood would act like a stimulant, so the last thing he wants is to feed from you. Why would he do something that makes him more energized and makes you tired in the process? (He’s not sure he can convince you to only feed him, and the idea of having to share you with the others—except for maybe Beel—is intolerable.)

#obey me #obey me vampire au #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #obey me x reader #obey me fanfiction

398 notes · View notes

sunlightmurdock · 3 months

Note

Having to be quiet with Apocalypse!Jake because there’s people around 😬😵‍💫

Jake’s truck, the shower and the woods have become your favourite spots to get Jake all riled up.

smut below the cut <3

In his truck, yeah it’s cramped and your shoe sometimes leaves prints on the ceiling of the cab, but he holds you so close and cradles your body so close that you feel weightless. He parks it out where no one will hear you, turns on one of his cassettes, and suddenly — the world is normal. Beyond normal, heaven. Out there, he’ll talk you through it freely. Grunting softly in your ear and telling you how fucking good you are, how good you feel.

The shower is your second favourite, because you have to be quick, but you aren’t as cramped. The sound from the water drowns out the sounds of you breathlessly chanting his name, but the other survivors must know what’s happening when the two of you disappear in there together. It doesn’t faze you, but Jake doesn’t want those assholes thinking about you naked.

The woods, now that’s uncomfortable. On the ground or against a tree, bark bristling your back — it’s not your favourite, and you have to be real quiet too. The last thing you want is some jacked up infected coming across you while you’re pants are around your ankles. But, out there Jake presses his full weight into you and covers your hand with his thick palm. And it’s still Jake, so you’ll take what you can get.

Now, your biggest complaint is that you’ve got a perfectly good bed— well, mattress, that simply isn’t seeing enough action. Jake’s point is that it’s only separated from the hall by that thin wooden door, and that crack under the door lets all the sound out. But you’re convincing when you want to be.

Your hand is tucked into the leg of his boxers, stroking his cock gently, your eyes calmly on his. Your game of chicken has gone further tonight than he normally allows it to. He’s got a naked girl in front of him, and an erection that’s going to be throbbing all night.

“I’ll be good,” You promise him, biting at the swell of your bottom lip. Jake shakes his head. “Quiet as a mouse. I won’t make a peep. I swear.”

“Heard that one before.” Jake reminds you.

You just grin back at him, sitting back on your knees and parting your thighs, watching his green eyes drop down to study your body. “Just the tip. Anything.”

“You want it that bad?” Jake breathes out, wondering what the hell someone as perfect as you is doing begging for just an inch of him. You pout your lips and nod your head, and he’s a goner.

You groan excitedly as Jake flips you onto your front and lifts your hips, positioning himself behind you.

“Bite that, don’t wanna hear a damn peep from you, sweetheart.” Jake whispers, pressing your cheek down into his pillow, stroking his cock through your excitement. You wrap your arms around it like a teddy bear and hug it closer, biting down on the corner as he sinks the tip into you.

Instantly, a pleased groan fills the air, and you wriggle your hips a bit to feel a little more of him. Jake’s hand presses firmly on the back of your head, holding you down against the pillow.

“Quiet. Don’t think I won’t stop.”

#apocalypse dbf!jake #dbf!jake #dads best friend!jake #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman smut #Jake Seresin x reader

127 notes · View notes

hazz-a-bear · 2 months

Text

AS LONG AS I'M WITH YOU, wen junhui

♡⸝⸝ maybe you should have given Jun a little more time to prepare himself to meet your parents.

.ᐟ fluff. established relationship. jun is a ball of anxiety. so many pet names. mention of emotional distress/anxiety. mention of reader bringing home a girl. very brief mention of homophobia ( only if you squint )

a/n: my first work to be posted on tumblr! I hope everyone likes this, don't hesitate to give me feedback

"So you're one hundred per cent sure that what I got is enough? I feel like it's not. Oh yn, you could've let me get the tea set too!"

Jun whines from the passenger seat for the hundredth time. His mouth has been working overtime since the two had gotten in the car - questions, complaints and fusses leaving his mouth nonstop through the entire ride.

Approximately two weeks ago, on a random Tuesday night, you had casually thrown a question at Jun over dinner. "Mom called today. She wanted to have dinner since I hadn't visited them in a while. I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? They can finally meet you, Jun"

The simple question that came out of your somehow resulted in Jun choking on his next bite of rice.

If you'd thought Jun was overdramatic before (affectionately), you had definitely underestimated to what extent he would go after you had invited him to meet your parents.

The last two weeks had been hectic for Jun. As soon as he processed the invitation, he immediately made it his mission to get something - a first impression gift, he said - for your parents. When you firmly told him that he doesn't need to get anything, he looked at you like you just told him the Great Wall isn't in China. "Do you want your parents to hate me, yn? He had scoffed. "You weren't expecting me to just show up without anything, right? That's literally the easiest way to look bad in front of any parent"

Since then, Jun had been lurking on every single online website - hunting for household items with a concerningly deep determined look in his eyes. On Friday, he dragged you to a home appliance store nearby, immediately demanding your honest and brutal opinions on the porcelain tea sets on display. And that's when you admitted that maybe Junhui was a little more insane than you thought he was.

Surprisingly, you managed to convince Junhui to only stick to a couple of scented candles, incense sticks and coasters in the end. But it still didn't stop him from whining about how he still could've made a better impression with one of the tea sets he had been eyeing.

"Jun, sweetheart" You sigh, eyes set on the road ahead of you "There was no way I was gonna let you buy a whole ass tea set. Mom has plenty of sets at home, she doesn't need another one"

"Yn, I love you, but, the tea set isn't meant to be given as a function. I don't expect her to put it to use. It's more of a symbol of appreciation"

Damn your boyfriend and his ability to speak complete nonsense and somehow make it sound reasonable. "A symbol of appreciation? For what?"

"For letting me have their daughter, yn, obviously!" From the corner of your eye, you can see the way his arms are flailing around as he tries to argue with you. It's amusing, really - the way this got him all worked up and sweating like he's at dance practice.

"Respectfully, Jun, they didn't let you have me, you know?" You smirked, a teasing lilt to your voice. "They just didn't know and when they finally did, it was already too late. You were way too deep in love with me"

"You're right" Jun surprisingly agrees with you, making you look towards him with slightly raised eyebrows. Usually, he would have picked a fight. Arguing about how you're the one who fell first and the biggest simp in your relationship. So when he actually agrees with you without snapping back with a witty remark, you realize that his mind is preoccupied with the nervousness of the dinner with your parents more than you had realized.

"Jun?" You call softly to get his attention and wait till he replies with a hum. "Are you okay, love?"

Jun is silent in his seat. You take a quick glance at him to see him looking out the window, lips pulled under his teeth while he seems to be deep in thought. His hands are resting on his lap, fingers wringing each other in an attempt you recognize as him trying to calm himself down. Your eyebrows furrow in concern at the sight of Jun twitching in his seat, clearly anxious about this whole ordeal.

Looking in the rear mirror to see if you can slow down, you reach out to him with one of your hands - the other holding the steering wheel tighter. Jun almost jumps when he feels your cold hand settle on his before he laces his fingers with yours, his hold tight.

"Sorry," His voice is quiet, almost apologetic. "I'm just- I'm fidgety, cause, I'm nervous"

"Don't be sorry, baby, no" You assure him with a squeeze of his clammy hands. "It's okay if you're nervous, it's completely fine. Remember when you took me to meet your mom and dad? I was almost crying by the time we got there"

"Yeah, I remember" He sighs. "But I just- just can't help it, you know? What if they don't like me, yn? What if they think I'm not good enough- all sorts of what ifs"

You understood what he said, you really did.

When Junhui asked if you wanted to meet his family two months into your relationship, you had been anxious to the same extent - if not more. What was different was Jun had asked you almost a month in advance, giving you enough time to freak the fuck out about it, let it process, come to terms with it and finally get ready. When you think about it now, it makes you feel bad realizing you had only given Jun approximately two weeks to prepare himself for this.

"Junnie, I'm sorry if this is so sudden," You say, making him turn to you on a whim. "Fuck, I should've given you more time to get ready. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for you to get anxious, Jun"

"No, no, yn. It's not your fault, baby" Jun is quick to reach over the console, a clammy hand coming up to press under her chin in an attempt of reassurance. "It was sudden, true but this was going to happen sooner or later, no? Meeting your parents? I'm just the normal amount of nervous, okay? Don't worry baby, you didn't do anything"

As if to emphasize his words, Jun brings your laced hands to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your palm and another one to your wrist. You relax a little into your seat, his words starting to make sense in your mind.

Soon, you're putting out the right turn signal before making a turn off the main road. You can feel Jun's hand tense around yours a bit more and you give him another squeeze of assurance. He watches out his window as you drive along the road that leads to your house. All the houses in the neighbourhood are gates, screaming sophistication at any guest that passes by. You know that compared to other neighbourhoods, yours is considered to be a bit more upper-class and rich. And Junhui is definitely enamoured by it.

"Yn, you actually grew up in a fancy neighbourhood" His mouth is almost hung open. "All of the houses have gates!"

You laugh at the excitement that takes over his features, the anxiety seemingly slipping away from him in the process. You can't help but take occasional glances at him as you continue to drive up ahead. It's only when you turn towards a clearing that with an already opened gate, he suddenly tenses again.

"Oh god," You can hear him mumble under his breath, both of his hands now coming to hold on to yours that rest on his lap. The gate opens to a paved driveway, large trees carefully sitting on both sides. You slowly pull inside and at the end of the long driveway, the house you once called home stands proudly.

The closer you get to the house, the fidgety Junhui gets. His knee is bouncing up and down in clear distress so you hold on to him a little tighter, reminding him that you're right there. He waits as you drive to the side of the house, stopping the car next to the garage which holds your dad's cars. You can almost feel the anxiety that bounces off of Junhui, circulating the car like a scent and it makes you sad, knowing he's this nervous about meeting your parents.

As soon as your hand leaves the steering wheel and pulls on the parking gear, Junhui is almost scrambling to your side of the car over the console and immediately hiding his face in your shoulder.

"I'm so scared" He's mumbling into your your skin once his face is pushed against your neck, shaky breath fanning over you warmly.

You bring up your other arm which isn't clutching Jun's to put around him before pulling his body towards you. It's a weird angle considering how he's almost leaning his entire upper body over the console of the car but neither of you could care less about the way the gear is pressing into his tummy in a way that is not comfortable. What matters right now is the fact that you're there to hold him while he freaks out about what will happen once he gets out of the car.

He sighs again, relaxing a little in your hold as you press your lips to his temple. "What if...what if they don't like me, yn? What do I-"

His words are unceremoniously cut off when you pull away by a little, only to press your lips against his in a quick manner. He shuts up then, closing his eyes and deepening the kiss, trying to drink in your entire being if you're offering. It's evident in the way he unconsciously tries to chase your lips with his when you go to pull away.

"Baby, no" You assure him in a hushed whisper, forehead resting against his temple. "They're not gonna hate you, I promise. They won't, darling"

The look on Jun's face remains the same, unconvinced and doubtful even though you put up the most certain voice you're able to. There's a slight crease in his eyebrows and the way his eyes fail to focus on yours says enough though - he's terrified.

"Baby" You croons, freeing your other hand from his before bringing them both up to his face.

Jun's cheeks are cold under your fingers, probably a result of the blasting AC in the car. Your hands must be cold as well if the way he flinches when they rest on his skin says something. Yet, his eyes slightly droop on the contact, almost leaning into the touch with a small smile that paints across his lips. It makes you smile too, the way he's so willing to lean into the warmth ( or the icy cold feel ) of your hands.

"They'll be nice, baby, I promise. Don't you think they'll at least try to be nice to the first boy I've ever brought home, hm? It's a new milestone"

His cheeks are immediately flushing at your words - the knowledge of him being the first to meet the parents settling something warm and fuzzy in his stomach. You smile to yourself as you see the mischievous little smile that stretches across his face.

"How do I trust you, huh?" He says with a slyness to her voice, looking up at you from the gaps in his lashes.

"Trust me about what?" You play along while your fingers brush away locks of brown stray hairs that fall across his forehead.

"When you say I'm the first boy to meet your family?" His usual playful smile is now etched into his face, making him look young and boyish. Now that he doesn't seem to be as worried as he was before, you realize he's up to no good. Jun is skilled in knowing just how to pull the strings and make you the right amount of annoyance at any given time. "Does that mean you've brought girls home, hm? What if you're just saying it to make me feel better?"

"Oh, jun, baby. If I had brought girls home, I would've gotten kicked out a long time ago, don't you think?" You chuckle despite the heaviness of the words that come out of your mouth. Jun smiles too, seeming to agree with you. "And trust me, you'd know why I haven't brought anyone home all this time once you meet them, okay?"

And just like that, Jun's face is crumping again in your hold before he's whining in a high voice while leaning away from you. "Yn, why would you say that? That sounds even scary"

You chuckle while Jun fake cries in his seat, suddenly ranting about how he would not hesitate to break down in actual tears if your family intimidates him enough. While he goes on and on about the miserable state he's in, you reach behind you and grab the bag of 'first impression gifts' Jun had brought.

When you got in the car earlier, you had jokingly pointed out how he's only doing this to suck up to your parents and kiss their ass. And Jun being dramatic as he is had dismissed you with a sassy flick of his wrist saying 'Yn, it's not kissing ass to bring something as a visitor. It's basic human decency. It's an unwritten rule of Asian households. You should know that!'

As soon as you grab the bag from the backseat, Jun is shuffling to take it from you, sticking his hand inside and mentally checking out a list of the things he's gotten to make sure he hasn't forgotten anything.

As you wait for Jun to finish, you turn off the car, pocketing your keys and wallet. Jun has finished his counting when you turn back towards him. He's leaning against the door on his side, bag resting on his lap and hands once again nervously twitching on top of it.

The look in his eyes is fond as he looks your way, but it doesn't take a genius to understand that it's only masking a lot of nervousness and unease behind them. His lower lip is caught between his teeth as he rapidly chews on it, purely out of habit. So you reach before carefully thumbing under his lips, trying to get him to stop.

"Take your time, Jun. There's no rush. We have all the time. Let me know when you're ready"

Junhui had always been naturally fidgety when it came to approaching new people and being introduced to new conditions. And even more so if it's related to your past that he hadn't been present in. Jun tends to care a lot about first impressions - always fussing over his appearance, his behaviour and his attention to detail. As much of an extrovert as he is, it's always quite hard for him to take the first step towards instant socializing.

In disparity, you're the one who's capable of grounding him whenever it happens. Even though he's freaking out of his mind, as long as he's able to feel the familiar sense of your fingers lacing his, nudging the right amount of pressure against his skin, he's good to go. So even now, as he's trying to regulate his breathing and try not to scream in dread, the feeling of your lips pressing into his cheek in the form of security, assurance and a promise - it's enough to hold him from falling apart.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #wen junhui #wen junhui imagines #wen junhui fluff #moon junhui #junhui imagines #junhui fluff #wen junhui x reader #seventeen x reader #junhui x reader #svt jun

112 notes · View notes

chaosheadspace · 3 months

Note

Still looking for those food prompts? Playground dads 29 or 30

Hi, thank you for sending in a prompt! I loved revisiting the playground dads. 29 and 23 are: going on a fishing trip and eating the fish from it / making some smore's in front of the bonfire. (betaed by the awesome @ml-nolan!)

It's a clear summer night, the stars blinking in the sky except where the canopy of nearby trees blankets the small, cosy camp site. They're a little ways away from other campers, just enough that they can pretend to be alone. Dream actively refuses to remember what day it is, letting the days blend into each other instead, a kaleidoscope of sun and laughter and grilled food.

Dream used to hate camping, and if he is being honest, there are still large parts of it he detests. But Hob had listened to his every concern and complaint, and then had plied him with solutions to all of them, and Orpheus and Robin had begged for a whole week. So he'd finally given in.

And really, it's not so bad, not when Hob is with him, not when there's the biggest smile on Orpheus’s face every day, not when Robin wakes them up singing. Hob had bought two folding beds for them so he and Dream didn't have to sleep on the floor (number one on Dream's list of why camping is objectively the worst way to spend one's holidays). They brought dozens of small citronella candles with them, currently burning on two trays next to them to keep away the mosquitoes (the ones who dare to come near seem to favour Hob, anyways).

It is late, later than it's probably advisable for them to be up. Orpheus and Robyn are fast asleep on the air mattress they insisted on sleeping on, zipped into their new, matching sleeping bags. They've been asleep for hours, and Dream knows he and Hob will be woken early by one or both of them deflating the mattress by using it as a trampoline. Probably. But he can't bring himself to get up, not when the campfire paints Hob in flickering light, licks up his features until he is nothing but warm beauty.

Hob is currently expertly roasting a marshmallow, some crackers and chocolate waiting next to him. They have eaten three s’mores each already, the inside of Dream’s mouth sticky with sugar and chocolate.

“I’m sure they’d kill us if they knew,” Hob says with a smile, “but we gotta have some things for ourselves, don’t we?”

Dream hums, not lifting his head from Hob’s shoulder. “I know for a fact that you only got out half of it, so there will be some left for them.” Hob is a warm line against his side, and despite the fact that the campsite has perfectly fine showers, Dream has the impression that outdoor life makes Hob smell even better than he normally does.

“That predictable, am I?” Hob chuckles, turning the skewer so the marshmallow doesn’t get burned.

“In that regard, I am afraid you are.” Hob’s cheek under Dream’s lips is stubbly, and smells faintly of sunscreen. “I am glad you brought ample provisions, or we would not have had anything to eat today.” Hob is endeavouring to teach Dream to fish, which has proven to be unfruitful so far. Dream doesn’t complain, because there is little else he would prefer over sitting next to Hob, but his lack of success is getting a little frustrating.

“Hey now, there’s a supermarket down the street,” Hob protests. “Also, I suspect our lack of luck has something to do with two kids splashing about in the very same waters we’re trying to fish.” He takes the marshmallow off the fire and smears it onto a cracker before sandwiching it between chocolate and another cracker. He holds it out to Dream, who shakes his head, shrugs, and eats it in one bite. Then he puts an arm around Dream’s waist, pulls him closer, and kisses him. His lips are chapped and crumbly from the cracker, and the inside of his mouth tastes like chocolate. The soft chill of the night comes to rest on his skin except for where they’re touching, and Dream wishes they could stay here, like this, for eternity.

Then the quiet sound of their kissing is drowned out by shuffling, rustling fabric, and then the sound of a zipper and lastly, Robyn’s voice. “Dad, I have to—hey! Are you eating s’mores without us? Hey!”

Hob lets Dream go with a warm chuckle. “We are. But I think you can have some, too. As a treat. Because we’re on holiday.” He still hasn’t moved his arm on Dream’s waist, and he shuffles closer. “Go wake Orpheus?”

“‘M awake, I’m awake, I’m awake, I’m coming,” Orpheus chants from the tent and, from the sound of it, wrestles with his sleeping bag.

Hob laughs. “I think I'll go and help him,” he says quietly into Dream's ear, “and get the rest of the marshmallows while I'm at it.”

Warmth pools in Dream's chest, watching as Hob goes. He loves him so much.

Then he gestures Robyn over and reaches for the stick Hob put down earlier. “What do you say,” Dream asks, “do you want to try roasting one for yourself?”

#chaosheadspace's writing #dreamling #food prompts #dream x hob

66 notes · View notes

lanawinterscigarettes · 2 days

Text

James Wilson dating someone who gets cute aggression

Warnings: cute aggression (duh) so there's mention of playful biting and such from the reader

A/N: this idea popped into my head randomly and I thought it'd be a big hit with my fellow Wilson lovers because honestly who doesn't get cute aggression when looking at him

I don't think Wilson would know what cute aggression is but I'm pretty sure he's used to people displaying their affection in less than conventional ways given that House is his best friend

He wouldn't have a problem with it, per say, but he'd certainly be confused to first time you do it

Picture it: he's sitting in his office as he fills out paperwork while you're waiting for him to finish. You're so bored and want his attention so badly that when he stops writing for even a second you take that as an opportunity to bite his hand

You don't bite hard enough to draw blood or anything, just hard enough to get his attention

He stops what he was doing and looks over at you with a befuddled expression on his face, his big brown puppy dog eyes full of confusion

"Did you just- did you just bite me?" It's clear from the disbelief in his voice that he doesn't know what to think. He'd never been bitten before, certainly not in such a casual manner

"Yeah, so?" You gave him a slight shrug as if it were no big deal. "Sometimes I bite people I like. Is that a problem?"

Being the little people pleaser he is, he of course says no. "Uh, not at all. I just- I wasn't expecting that"

He goes back to work, thinking that'll be the end of it. It's not, as you decide to take his indifference as an invitation to bite him whenever you get the chance to

It doesn't take that long for him to get used to your strange habits of biting him when he's not paying attention to you or squeezing him a little too hard when giving him hugs

If House finds out about your cute aggression (which, let's be honest, of course he does because he has no respect for other people's privacy) he uses that information as a way to get on Wilson's nerves all the time

"Nice bite marks on your hand. Did you get a dog recently, or is it just another act of affection from your doting partner?"

"Shut up, House"

"What? I'm not the one willingly giving myself up to be somebody else's chew toy"

In all honesty, Wilson actually doesn't mind your cute aggression, even if he knows he probably should

He always lets you playfully bite his hand or give him really tight hugs when you ask with no complaint, finding the acts to be oddly endearing for some reason

Even when you coddle and baby talk him the same way someone might speak to a pet the most he might do is roll his eyes or let out a loud exasperated sigh

"You're so cute, Jimmy, did you know that? It makes me want to wrap you up and never let you go"

"Well, it's nice to know you care about me, even if you are talking to me like I'm a dog"

"Hey, it's not my fault you have the biggest, most adorable set of puppy dog eyes around that make you look like such a little cutie patootie"

"You're as bad as House, did you know that?"

"I take that as a compliment"

"Of course you do"

All in all, Wilson loves you and knows that you love him, even if you show it in an odd way

Likes < reblogs | comments are greatly appreciated <3

Main masterlist | House MD masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?

🏷 taglist: none yet to tag

41 notes · View notes

sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 1 year

Text

Sihtric x you (f) nsfw/relationship alphabet:

note: after the sfw/relationship alphabet request I decided to make a nsfw/relationship alphabet!

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @bathedinheat @hb8301

A = Aftercare

Sihtric's a real softy

always makes sure you're both cleaned up

only wants cuddles afterwards

keeps you close to his chest

will ask several times if it was good for you too

will give you soft kisses wherever he can reach

always gently rubbing your legs when you're feeling sore

B = Body part

Sihtric loves your legs (will always kiss them all over)

he loves feeling your hands in his hair

you're obsessed with his arms

and he knows it (will flex a little extra for his lady)

He also loves biting your neck ??

C = Cum

preferably inside you

which you don't mind

except that you don't want 500 babies (he does)

so sometimes he has to settle for your mouth

which you both don't mind either

D = Dirty secret

you would both love a threesome with Sigtryggr

damn

E = Experience

oh, Sihtric knows what to do

you were surprised by his experience the first time

however, doing the thing with a lady who is not a whore was a little different for him

so he was a little reserved at first

but mans became a whole beast in bed soon enough when he understood there was no limit to touching you

F = Favorite position

on his playful and cheeky days he likes to have you bent over (a table, the bed, anywhere)

but always wants to face you when you cum

you prefer to be on top (easier to control him)

and he loves it when you're on top

but if you become too cheeky for his liking, you will be under him within the blink of an eye (he's fast and strong like that)

G = Goofy

there's always time for a chuckle with Sihtric, even during sex

but usually you are both just really in the moment

there is always lot of teasing going on

you love to play hard to get

you love his mischievous smile

H = Hair

body hair???????

everything is well taken care of, no complaints

you cannot expect a man who changes his hairstyle every sunrise to not keep up with the rest of his body

come on now

I = Intimacy

Sihtric just wants you close

he will make sure you feel loved

and safe. He will never cross your boundaries even when he's rough and struggles to control himself

he prefers to make out passionately before and after

makes sure you finish too, no matter what

J = Jack off

Sihtric? he would never

he does it whenever he can

he's away from home a lot and he's a horny guy okay?

you like watching him do it (when he's home again!)

you enjoy jacking him off too (and he does too)

K = Kink

Sihtric loves dirty talk

the words that have gotten out of that man's mouth are illegal in at least 18 villages

he loves to be dominant and submissive

Sihtric knows you have a praise kink and will use it every time

but Sihtric also has the biggest praise kink ever, even if he won't admit it

L = Location

literally anywhere

you prefer the bed

or the table

but Sihtric does not care

M = Motivation

Sihtric is so easy to turn on

the sight of you is enough for him actually

but tug his hair and it's on

biting his lip is also another way

kiss his neck and you know you got trouble coming your way

N = No

Sihtric shuts down when he thinks something is not pleasing you (praise kink, hello)

you will never degrade him, ever.

Sihtric will not have his wrists tied with rope. He enjoys it when you use soft fabrics that will not bruise his skin, and your love making is always passionate and gentle when his hands are tied.

he loves it when you slap his face in the heat of the moment, but you know to never do it when he is tied up.

he loves to spank you, but will never spank anything other than your ass.

O = Oral

Oh he loves oral

Giving and receiving

and he's so fucking good at giving like??

and judging on the filthy things he says when he receives you, he thinks you're just as good

P = Pace

it depends on the mood

he loves being fast and rough usually (and you love that beast of a man)

but he always switches it up at some point

if he had a rough time or simply needs some loving he likes it slow and sensual

which feels so good too. Passionate Sihtric is a whole different man.

Q = Quickie

Yes

Whenever he can during the day

'Baby, please?' - Sihtric, every morning before you get out of bed

'Just 5 minutes, my love?' - Sihtric, every time before you leave for work

'I'll be quick, I promise.' - Sihtric, every day before you make dinner

R = Risk

he likes to experiment with you

he loves the risk of being caught tbh

S = Stamina

3 times a day is not uncommon

but that usually happens the first few days when he came back home after a long time away

Sihtric can last quite long but really struggles to control himself

it all depends on how eager he is

T = Toys

not really

but he does like to use his belt to spank you

other than that not much else going on

U = Unfair

you are equal at teasing

you both simply tease until the other begs

but Sihtric gives in to your begging easier than you give in to him

you love to see him struggle

the longer you tease him, the dirtier and heated his words become

V = Volume

Sihtric is very vocal

he murmurs at every touch and kiss

his moans, groans and grunts are always low, deep and heavy

and it's really hot

he loves it when he makes you scream

which happens a lot too tbh

W = Wild card

loves it when you pull his hair

he loves to touch you up in public (but secretly, so you have to maintain a straight face)

X = X-ray

You have nothing to complain about when it comes to his size

Y = Yearning

his sex drive just never ends???

always horny

always ready

'Can you handle me for another round?' - Sihtric, every day.

Z = Zzz

Sihtric falls asleep rather easily afterwards

but not before he has cuddled with you

or before he said that he loves you like 10 times

and has smothered you with kisses

did he already that say he loves you? He'll say it again before he drifts off, just to be sure.

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric kjartanson #sihtric x you #sihtric x reader #the last kingdom fic

237 notes · View notes

aonungyoufuck · 1 year

Note

can i request something where a sully!reader overhears lo’ak complaining/talking shit abt her to tsireya and she becomes distant and upset. thr aonung also overhears and picks on her abt it? then lo’ak “comes to the resvur” but the reader bursts in front of him

Enough

Fem Sully!Reader

Warnings: Just angst. Maybe some self loathe here and there

Thank you Anon for submitting your request. I hope i did you justice and that you enjoy it! I kinda made up the ending since i didnt know if you wanted to be like a fluff end or still angst? So perhaps angst

You had been having a normal day. It was more of the usual Training and trying to form your ways into the life at the sea.

And you hadn't meant for yourself to eavesdrop. It just happened. You had the best relationship with Lo'ak and you thought it was also returned. Two trouble makers trying to make sense in the hierarchy that was your family.

"I just dont get it Tsireya. Its just i do care about Y/n i do. But i would like some time for myself. Its just annoying having to constantly have her loom over me."

"Lo'ak.."

"I just wish sometimes that i could tell her to leave me alone. But she'll stick to me like an unwanted curse"

You could feel the lump on your throat form. Breathing felt painful and you hadn't known why. Was it the hurt or the betrayal? You couldn't really tell.

"But you dont mean that"

"i do! I do Care about my family as i am sure everyone else does! But its annoying to have a constant shadow behind me. Sometimes i wish that she ..she wasn't my sister"

"Lo'ak!"

You didnt even bother to hear the rest. Couldn't even dare. You were hurt. Possibly more to know that this is how Lo'ak felt. And how long exactly? How long had he been coward enough not to tell you face to face. You just couldn't do it. You wouldn't do it. And you were unaware of the pair of eyes that watched you go.

____________________

If Lo'ak had noticed your absence. He hadn't voiced it. You had done your best to avoid being around him as much as possible. And it had been noticeable to the others.

To anyone that had eyes and ears. Your once upbeat but brash personality had dimmed. You avoided Lo'ak as much as possibly taking the time to hang with Neteyam or even Kiri. It had been nice to, really. You didnt know them as much as you knew Lo'ak but even they knew that something was up. The two of you were trouble one and two.

So The lack of the two being in 'good' speaking terms was the biggest thing to have happened since Jake called himself Toruk Makto

"What is wrong?" you would constantly hear Neteyam ask you and yet you brushed him off.

Everything was perfectly fine. It had to be. So you wouldn't be too much of an annoyance.

"How the mighty have fallen"

You dreaded that voice. You hadn't exactly known that Ao'nung had heard Lo'ak's complaints but he did. And he was like a plague repeating the same stuff over and over again.

"Ao'nung. What ever do you mean?" Neteyam would unfortunately ask before you can divert attention from him.

"Talking about Y/n here. Once not long ago would have bitten my head off and now look at her"

He was right. Without Lo'ak to bounce off of. You no longer had any bite to your threats.

"This little nuisance Has really fallen"

"Do not call her that"

"oh but it wasn't me who did. Now was it Y/n?"

You wanted to gag. Wanted to have Eywa take you now and never let you see the light of day.

"no...it wasn't"

Neteyam just watched your face drop. Finally piecing it together. "oh ill go talk to him"

"no! i dont want that Neteyam. I dont want anything to do with him as he doesn't want anything to do with me"

"makes him sick. Like an unwanted curse" Ao'nung had commented back.

You could only bite back your tears.

---------------------------------------

From that point on. You had endured the negative feeling any time you saw Lo'ak make an attempt at talking with you. You had endured Ao'nung torture.

And it was a peaceful night before you heard Ao'nungs laugh behind you. You didnt even process him. Not that you cared enough.

Not anymore.

So long in thought and watching the waves go by that you hadn't realized Lo'ak Was here. Standing up for you.

No. You didnt need him.

" I dont need you to fight my battles you know?"

"I cant sit here and watch him berate you like this!"

"Thats rich coming from you!"

You couldnt hold it in anymore. Nothing in your body wanted more than to make him hear you. Make him see you for what you were.

"as i recall i was always "like an unwanted curse"

you could see him mentally slap himself. Throw in a shit as he finally understood why you've been so...standoffish around him.

"i dont need you in this moment to fight for me"

"Listen Y/n, i was-"

"I dont care! I dont care okay? What ever it was that made you hate me. Whatever it was that made you despise me i dont care!" You finally broke. You didnt care who stood and watched. You certainly couldn't bat an eye at Ao'nung who was watching this entire thing.

" I have spend my entire life doing and saying the things you want me to say to please The people around us. To please Dad and mom. To make Neteyam get off our back to cover for the mess you always make"

You couldn't care to voice your words nicely. You had enough.

"i've had about Enough of Always following in your shadow! Ive had it with always having to Take the fall with you when i only wanted to spend time with you without nearly dying or getting someone injured. there are not enough words to voice the pain i felt when you said you had enough of me. When i never been enough for our Father."

You choke on a sob wiping your eyes

"and I'm not going to sit by and not be enough for you!"

And you wouldn't be enough. But you were enough for yourself. And that would be okay. And Lo'ak had all the time in the world to make it up to you.

you didn't know how or when or what he would do. But That was enough for today

#avatar the way of water #atwow angst #atwow headcanons #lo'ak angst #Lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #but like siblings?#Ao'nung #neteyam #lo'ak sully #avatar loak #atwow imagines #atwow x reader

259 notes · View notes

mouschiwrites · 6 months

Note

hi, can i rq the south park main four with a reader who has a phobia of hospital please? ik its kind of oddly specific lol

For sure!

South Park - Main Four When You’re Afraid of Hospitals

Stan

He’s not the biggest fan of hospitals either

While this is nice when you’re looking for someone who knows what you’re feeling, it’s not so nice when you’re actually in the hospital

He’s just as nervous as you; he’s not going to be much help

“Oh my gosh, that needle is huge…”

“Stan! Not helping!!”

He’ll hold your hand though (as much to comfort himself as to comfort you)

He also won’t let his own fear prevent him from forcing you to go if he needs to

“Y/n, I know it sucks, but we really should go.”

You can tell that he doesn’t want to go either

That compels you to comply in a weird way

Like, you know that you won’t be the only one that’s not happy to be there

When you leave you both go straight home to recover

You just hold each other tight, not speaking, just trying to process and forget the entire experience

Eventually one of you will decide you’re over it, and you’ll suggest doing some leisurely activity

Or having a snack together :)

You’ll share a knowing look, and that’s the most you’re going to communicate about it

Honestly you both just want to forget it though, so that’s not necessarily a bad thing

Kyle

Understands that you’re afraid, but does not sympathize

He’s very brash when convincing you to go

“I know you’re scared, but you know what’s more scary? The stuff that’ll happen to you if you don’t get checked out.”

As much as you try to argue, he’s not budging

Your safety is more important to him than your happiness in such moments

He’ll literally pick you up bridal style if you’re too stubborn

Once you actually get there, he’ll attempt to comfort you as much as he can

Mainly in the form of watching YouTube on his phone with you

This is one of the rare occasions he’ll let you pick what to watch without complaints

Even if you pick something he hates, he’ll let you have your way

Anything to keep you from panicking

When you leave he makes sure to reward you with a treat

Whether that’s a meal from your favorite fast food restaurant or a new plushie, he’s willing to get it for you

Partly because he doesn’t want you to stay mad at him for making you go to the hospital

Cuddles are also an option if you’re not too upset with him

Kenny

He’s very worried about you the whole time

From the moment you got hurt, he insisted you go to the hospital, but when he realized how scared you were of the place, his worry only increased

When you first arrived he wouldn’t stop talking

“Are you panicking? Is the bed soft enough? What can I do to help?”

“Kenny! Just… chill. You’re freaking me out even more.”

He claps his hand dramatically over his mouth as an “I’ll shut up now” gesture

That makes you giggle a little

He’ll try to keep amusing you to keep your mind off the situation

Showing you memes, telling stories, sharing his favorite dirty jokes, every trick he knows to get you to smile

Even when the doctors were in the room, he was making stupid faces

You had to bite your tongue to stop from laughing

When you leave, he’s way too eager to be able to hold you again

Or, if you’re staying for more than a “quick” visit, he’ll climb into the bed with you to snuggle

He makes sure to let you know how brave he thinks you are all the while

Cartman

He forced you to go under the excuse:

“Why are you afraid? What’s the worst that could happen? Besides dying, I mean.”

“That’s exactly why I’m afraid, idiot!”

He literally dragged you halfway there by the wrist

If you’re particularly stubborn he’ll throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes

Once there, though, he unintentionally comforts you by being a dufus

Definitely goes through all the cabinets and plays with absolutely everything

“How many of these cotton balls do you think I could fit in my mouth?”

And he doesn’t even stop when the doctor walks in

“If you held the stethoscope up to my ear, would you be able to hear the song stuck in my head?”

You’re the one who has to tell him to cut it out and let the doctor do their job

Honestly, you mostly did it so that you wouldn’t burst out laughing

His blatantly idiotic behavior keeps you amused long enough that the anxiety doesn’t settle in

When you leave, he insists on going out for food

You’ll get takeout and eat at home with the TV on :)

Cartman’s ready to put the whole “boring” ordeal behind him, but you’ll never forget the confounding idiocy you saw in that hospital room

Hope you enjoyed! Thank you for the request, and thanks for reading! Have a good one duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

#south park #south park headcanons #south park x reader #eric cartman #eric cartman x reader #cartman x reader #stan marsh #stan marsh x reader #stan x reader #kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle x reader #kenny mccormick #kenny mcormick x reader #kenny x reader

78 notes · View notes

pricegouge · 29 days

Text

Fatted Rabbit, part three

Bearshifter!Price AU

rated M for later chapters

Part One

If there's one thing you've come to firmly believe over the last few months, it's that if you frown too long at a forecast, the forecast eventually frowns back. Another fucking night below freezing. It's not the biggest deal - at this point you can even manage it without a heat source - but your joints already ache at the thought. Something about the high altitude, cold temps, and humidity that gets trapped in the Wrangler after a full night with the windows up is the perfect storm to have you hobbling around the next day like your dear departed Gran.

It wasn't supposed to be like this, of course. You could blame poor planning, a shit build, worse luck, but the fact of the matter remains that you're just not supposed to be here yet. Hard to plan for a winter you weren't supposed to see.

The plan had been to stay put until May, head north when you were well and truly sure the biting cold had been chased off. You should have known your fucking ex would ruin even the relative safety of that plan - had in fact resolved yourself to weather whatever storm he threw at you without complaint as you got your ducks in a row - but after the shit show he'd pulled on his birthday, you'd known staying with him another couple of months was more likely to land you in a grave than successfully escaping in the dead of night as per your perfectly laid plan.

So you'd run. And you'd run fucking hard. It was tempting to stop off somewhere in the Midwest, but ultimately you'd scared yourself off settling for longer than a night anywhere within a two state radius of Phil. And once you were north of the fortieth, the siren song of national forests and undisturbed parking kept drawing you up and up until you were finally at your original destination anyway.

Impatient, stupid. You know winter doesn't relent its stranglehold overnight.

You sigh, weighing your options, limited though they were. John had been kind enough to let you belly up to his bar for most of the evening (and that was… something you were going to have to address in the cold light of day) but the worst was yet to come and you needed a game plan. You could drive out to the closest twenty four hour superstore and wander around until they realized you weren't going to purchase anything more than peanut butter. You could save gas by going to the gym, which had the added benefit of a hot shower. The night clerk there had definitely figured out you were homeless by now. It was fine, she was chill, but you suspected she may have blabbed. Ideally, you'd sleep in the Jeep for the first leg of the night, spend the coldest hours on the treadmill, then return to the Jeep and sleep on through until mid-morning. However, the gym manager had been keeping watch lately to make sure you didn't loiter in the parking lot for too long. You never thought you'd miss the craziness of the city, but you can't deny the anonymity had its appeal. Back in Dallas, you could park for any number of hours and the only person whose business it was was the meter maid. Here, streets and parking lots were mostly deserted, and a Jeep with a privacy screen was pretty inconspicuous. It made it difficult on nights like this, when you wanted to be close to some sort of twenty four hour shop when the coldest hours of the night came around.

You decide on the superstore, given you'd gotten ready at the gym earlier. It was unlikely the same employees were there, but that owner could take a gander at your check in times if he wanted and you'd like to deny him the satisfaction of spotting you there twice in one day.

You head west along the main drag, sighing in longing at all the help wanted signs. Some seasonal work is exactly what you need, but jobs require background checks, and background checks set off pings around all your former domiciles, and Phil has his dirty little fingers in all sorts of dirty little pies. You just need time for it all to blow over. Eventually he'd get sick of the hunt - or find a new victim, more like - and then you'd be free. The thought made you a little sick. Not for the first time, you wished you'd found a charge that stuck to him, or maybe a bullet to lodge in his skull; but Phil made friends with cops like it was his job (it kind of was), and ultimately, you just weren't built right for murder. So instead, you'd scrimped and saved over the course of three years, slowly reorganizing your life to exclude him. You weren't well off by any means, and you'd intended to be able to save for a few months longer, but provided you don't blow your fuel budget in the first few months because you're the idiot who decided to test a Montana spring, you should be set 'til the end of the year. And that's with the move down south come fall.

If it comes to that. You're still hoping to try your luck in a few months, put feelers out to see if Phil is still actively searching for you. You'd rather stay up north if possible. You've had enough southern summers to last you a lifetime, and while you'd talked a big game to John, this nomad lifestyle you've found yourself stuck in isn't feasible.

Fuckin' John. You feel for the coaster surreptitiously as you pull into a parking space in a quiet far corner of the lot. All your planning and you hadn't accounted for John. Really, you hadn't accounted for any love interests. When you'd left Dallas, the possibility of what you'd do if someone had caught your fancy had been so fucking far from your mind it would have been laughable if it wasn't so fucking sad. After a man like Phil, there was no 'rebound' phase, no 'get back on the horse' phase, no 'someday, two and a half kids from now, this'll just be another shitty ex' phase. There was just run, survive, and heal; and then maybe someday, years and years down the road, some better version of you could maybe consider getting fitted for a proper saddle.

So why, then, did the massive, intimidatingly handsome (and generally slightly intimidating) man refuse to leave your mind?

When you'd first run into him on the trail he'd scared the piss out of you. You'd become rather timid over the years and didn't appreciate being snuck up on - not that he'd been trying, mind, but a deep gruff voice calling out to you in the woods was probably enough to set anyone on edge, let alone someone with your history. When you realized the stranger was some ridiculously attractive Englishman, you'd been even more wary. Men with pretty blue eyes and good, straight noses had never in your life bode well, a lesson you'd made an exception for exactly once and it had blown up in your face.

But when he came close, you saw nothing but warmth in his eyes and kindness in his smile. He was quick, funny in a slightly (but not annoyingly overt) self-deprecating way you didn't usually expect from people who looked like him.

He also smelled absurdly, disarmingly, distractingly good.

You couldn't even really pinpoint what it was. There was pine and loam, which shouldn't have been considering the sad, wet state of things; a dark, smokey scent like expensive tobacco; something toasty and rich which you've since realized is probably the smell of his distillery; and above all that, or perhaps the sum of all those parts, a homey scent you wanted to bury your face in - like a well-loved quilt.

In the days that followed your little run-in, you'd tried to convince yourself John had only been so charming because he was trying to drum up some business. You reminded yourself that you couldn't really afford a fancy stiff drink right now anyway. And more importantly, you scolded yourself to just leave it the hell alone. What was your end goal here? A quick romp? What are you gonna do, take him back to the Jeep? A spring fling? You could barely stand to touch yourself right now, how were you going to casually tell someone why you need a joint to loosen up and no sudden moves every time you fuck?

A real relationship? Christ.

Still, John was on your mind like an early aughts summer bop. You'd even tried hoofing it a little further north just to avoid the temptation but the area up there was less developed, which made your life far too difficult, needing access to amenities like 'roofs' and 'running water'. Besides, you didn't really want to leave Columbia Falls. After driving all over God's green earth, this was the first place you could see spending a good, happy summer. And you'd even seen a bear! You loved bears. It was kinda scary, sure, but it was also a hell of a motivator to secure your food properly and remember to carry your damn bear spray when you went hiking, damnit.

So, you'd made your way back, and you'd told yourself to just cool it already, and everything had been fine for a few days until you'd parked the Jeep in Columbia Falls, a hair downwind of some fancy whiskey bar and you'd smelled it like some sort of frickin' bloodhound and suddenly you remembered there was a charming man in there who made for decent company and also it was a bit cold out on the street.

John's overt flirting had been unexpected. You'd figured he was just angling for a good tip and had been willing to let him, but when he caught you stealing food off his plate like a fucking Disneyland squirrel and only responded by helping you take more, you'd started to doubt your initial assessment a bit.

The coaster itself is pale, a classic design with high contrast. John's blocky lettering follows the outer edge. You'd thought the woman next to you was going to clap and cheer when he'd handed it off. You shouldn't even be considering texting him. Part of you thinks this is some school girl's crush on the first exceedingly handsome man to ever look your way (not that Phil was unattractive, just not really your type) - that months from now you'll pull your head out of your ass and realize you were blind sided by handsome, masculine eyebrows and basic human decency and you'll be embarrassed to admit you'd fallen for it. Fresh off an abusive relationship, no less.

But a larger, perhaps much more desperate part of you was convinced this was a route worth exploring.

You sigh and tuck the coaster into your visor for now, start busying yourself with the privacy screens. However you decide to proceed, it would be buck-wild to do it right this moment anyway. You may be a notoriously impulsive person, but this could be one of them there baby steps to betterment you're always hearing about.

There's never much sleep to be had in parking lots. The privacy screens help to block out the bright lamps, sure, but they combine to create a perfect IMAX shadow theater where any movement outside projects onto the screens around you. You're in a quiet corner of the lot, but it's not exactly deserted. Occasionally people shuffle past and it always raises your hackles to see a perfectly human silhouette standing right next to you. As long as you keep your lights out, they can't see you - but you also can't really see them and it usually makes your breathing run shallow until they clear out. Still, you manage to catch a fitful few hours before the humidity and cold combine to make your chest hurt too much to stay put so you pack an inconspicuous purse with some dirty dishes and washing supplies and head inside.

The bathroom is cold, and the water is scalding as you try to maneuver a bowl around the tiny sink. It feels good on your joints but leaves your skin feeling too tight, so you make sure to sample some lotion as you wander around. Godbless underpaid retail workers, who do not seem to give a singular fuck what their frequent homeless shopper does while trying to dodge the cold. You stay respectful, stick to sampling designated tester bottles and dishes, and never leave a mess for them and they strike up friendly conversation if they're not otherwise occupied. No such luck tonight which is a bummer because you could use some incentive to stay on your feet, but that's okay. You spend some time tidying a particularly messy T-shirt display, grab your peanut butter, and go.

You charge your phone on the drive back to West Glacier. You don't really need to, as it's only been turned on maybe twice in the last week, but it's probably best to be safe. You refuse to acknowledge the coaster tucked neatly into the visor above your head.

***

There is a grunting noise coming from the passenger side of the Jeep. It's still a little early. Around nine AM if the light spilling through the privacy screen can be believed. You're not certain because you don't want to crawl around in search of your phone and alert whoever or whatever is outside to your presence in the process. It's been about ten minutes of this - small snuffling, grunting sounds moving back and forth on the wooded side of the car. As you've laid there, you've managed to convince yourself by turns that it was one, just a raccoon; two, your actual imagination; three, Phill in the flesh come to torment you; and four, just some other campers stretching their legs. You're debating the benefits of taking a small peek around the screen to soothe your mind when a deep, animalistic groan is the only warning you receive before the whole cab is rocked on its shocks in a way you've definitely experienced before.

"No fucking way!" You exclaim and tear your blind back only to be greeted by the massive, furry chest of a frankly unreasonably large grizzly.

You should be fucking terrified. You're definitely not.

"You again!?" You ask, a laugh bubbling in your chest.

The bear backs up enough that it can duck its head toward your window, its huge golden eye gleaming as it looks directly at you. It huffs, quiet now that it's been caught, and lowers itself back to the ground, head bobbing as it sways in place a bit.

"This your favorite parking lot or something, big guy?" It's the same spot where you first saw it. Maybe the bins aren't cleaned out often enough?

Of course, the bear does not respond. It sits on the ground with a low cow like sound and just looks at you for a moment. This is probably the right time for panic to set in, seeing as this very large predator with zero natural aversion to humans has approached your car twice now, but you suppose begging sweetly for scraps is better than outright attacking your car. Besides, it's so fucking cool.

You lower the screens, trying to get an unobstructed view. The bear watches you curiously but makes no move other than an idle scratch of its own belly. Not for the first time in your life, you find it massively unfair that evolution designed something so goddamn hug shaped and then gave it the approachability of Charles Manson.

It belatedly occurs to you that you may want to remember this and you scramble to the console to grab your phone. It takes a minute to power on, but the bear just continues to sit and watch you, almost expectantly. It cocks its head and huffs when you finally snap your pic, then stands and lumbers in a big circle when you snap a few more. It's huffing becomes slightly agitated and you can't help but tease it rhetorically:

"What? Prefer your solitude?" The bear moos. "Well don't worry, I don't have anyone to show anyway." A small huff, breath steaming in the morning air. It continues to move in a slow circle. You watch it for a little bit but your body is quickly catching up with the fact that you've slept in a cold, cramped space for a few hours and nature is calling. "Don't suppose you're gonna clear out so I can pee, eh?"

The bear takes a step back, cocks its head as if inviting you to try your luck.

You chuckle as you climb into the driver's seat, ferreting your keys out of the hideaway within the seat cushion. "No thanks, big guy. Not quite that stupid. Also, you should know I'm not gonna feed you. So, much as I enjoy your company, maybe find a new Jeep to frisk down?"

Of course, it only continues to stare at you. As you pull out and drive off, it stands to watch you leave and you're struck again by how fucking huge it is. You've never seen a grizzly in person so you guess it's like seeing a moose for the first time. One thing to hear about how massive they are, another to see it in the flesh and realize your imagination is quite limited.

After finding a good place to do your morning ablutions without the threat of mauling, you climb back into the Jeep and take a minute to flip through the photos you took. You want to share them with someone because it's so fucking cool that you shared a morning with a bear, but you hadn't been lying when you'd said you didn't have anyone to send it to, anyway. No social media for obvious reasons, no real friends because Phil had driven wedges between you and all your loved ones long ago. You kept meaning to reach out, but shame and fear of Phil having done so first keeps you away. Your mom, maybe, but you and her had never been close, and randomly sending her cool pictures in an effort to share your life with her would probably make her more concerned for your safety than finding out you'd been in an abusive relationship and were resorting to homelessness had seemed to.

In the visor above you, the coaster hangs like the least assuming sword of Damocles imaginable. And you've got a feelin' someone's gonna be cuttin' the thread.

Part four >>

#bearshifter!price #captain john price x you #john price x you #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #fatted rabbit

18 notes · View notes

cherrykamado · 2 years

Note

fighting sanemi 🥺

let’s you smack him around a bit, berate him. calling him a dumb ass and a good for nothing. gotta get all that pent up anger out of your system for when he finally grabs your wrists and pin them above your head. kisses and sucks marks into your neck while you become all whiny and pliant, thighs rubbing together until he slots his leg between them.

such pretty noises spilling from your mouth, he’ll take those instead of the cussing and yelling. there’s my girl. ya needed me that bad huh? he just smiles against your neck because he knows you’re screwing your face up, doesn’t even have to look at you.

f-fuck you! it’s so whiny and desperate it’s actually adorable 🥺 because you say this but here you are grinding on his thigh. but he’ll help you with that attitude don’t worry your pretty little head <3

o-oh my god. oh.

WARNINGS— chernemi typical wrestling LMFAO (but made x reader hehe), dumbification, hickeys.

when he gets his leg in between yours, you close your thighs around it — you just can't stand when he's touching you the way he is. you just won't be able to resist if his knee brushes against your clit, so you make sure to squeeze as hard as you can, prevent him from getting any further as, at the same time, you're tilting your head towards your shoulder, stopping him from sucking on your neck any longer.

"what are you doing?!" you almost stammer, squirming underneath him and trying to free yourself from the ridiculously strong grip he's got on your wrists. it's impossible, however: just with only one hand, he manages to restrain you.

fuck, how outraging.

but all that is lef t on sanemi's face is that stupid, cocky smirk of his.

"got enough of your bitchin'," he retorts, "time to hear you say something i actually like."

"w-wha— ah~!"

just like your resistance means nothing, sanemi's leg pushes through your thighs and finally reaches your clit; now his knee is stroking that engorged bundle of nerves of yours and there's nothing you can do apart from squirming and arching your back. complaining is useless — even your mouth betrays you, indulging him with the sweetest, hottest of the mewls and whimpers you can let out through those pretty lips of yours.

"there — that's my girl." he coos, and it's so sickeningly sweet that you inevitably find yourself melting over his praise. "c'mon, isn't this better?"

"f-fuck..."

and he's about to make it worse — the way you tilted your neck left you wide open, and so sanemi takes the chance to plant his lips on the stretched side of your neck.

as if his goal was to make you lose your mind over him.

every mark stings so good, like he knows where to place them, like he knows where to suck, like he knows where your most sensitive spots are. in no time, he's got you grinding against his knee. the grip of your thighs around his own isn't like before; in contrast, it's as if you're getting some leverage to grind your pussy against it. sanemi can feel in a matter of moments how you're soaking him, ruining the fabric of his pants — but that only makes him chuckle. he's enjoying this.

"ya need me that bad, huh?" he smiles against your neck.

fuck, as if he didn't know. the way his deep voice reverberates against your skin makes your mind spin even more — he knows that behind all that façade there is just neediness.

but your bitchy little attitude is actually what makes you even hotter. after all, fiery ones gotta be his favorite.

well, you are.

he doesn't even prepare or prepare you; amongst all your complaints — that he shushes with uh-huh, sure — he tears out your underwear. and just with a few twists of his hand, his belt is undone, and his pants and boxers pulled down just enough to reveal his hard, fat cock which is nothing but the biggest proof of what you do to him.

his head splitting your folds, he runs it up and down until he's soaked in your slick — and it's happened so fast. you're biting your lip, squirming, but apparently eager to see what he's doing, so you're calling him over and over.

s—sanemi. sanemi.

because, at this point, he's pretty sure you went dumb enough for his name to be the only thing to fall from your lips. so fast, so easy; he just knows the power he's got over you. and he would be lying if he said he doesn't prefer hearing his name instead dumbass, jackass, asshole.

you're trying your best to jerk away from him, it's too much. it's so cute to watch, how hard you try to deny it, how you try to act like you don't like him, when all you want to do is fuck him.

a loud, high pitched, borderline lewd moan is what he draws out from you when he bottoms out in just one push of his cock, all the way to the hilt, until his pubes are tickling your throbbing clit.

"f-fuck you~!" you whine out, but your curse is almost cut off by the yelp that is caused by the way he flips you both, so that you're on top of him, one hand on your hip while the other one sneaks and squeezes a handful of your pretty ass.

"go on." he invites, smirk widening.

#🍒 — cherry thirsts #sanemi.💚#IM SORRY THIS ONE SAT ON MY INBOX FOR WAY TOO LONG GOSH.#🍒— cherry's mail #🍒— cherry's moots #bunni my sissy<3 #i wanna WRESTLE him >:(((#dumbification tw #sanemi smut #kny smut

245 notes · View notes

coopigeoncoo · 1 year

Text

Hot Dish, Chapter 1: The First Course

Chapter Links: One, Two, Three

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+

Tags: Sexual content, Exhibitionism, Chikan, Heavy Petting, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Safe Sex, Consentual Sex, Swearing, Romance, Soft Shigaraki, Posessive Shigaraki, Domestic fluff, Mutual Pining

---

Down on his luck and scrambling for survival, Shigaraki Tomura was just looking for a place to score a hot meal.

Instead, he ended up scoring a hot date.

--- "You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch. Tomura glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Whatever."

"Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him. "There you go! A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk."

--- A slow, domestic romance between a volunteer at a soup kitchen and the newly destitute leader of a notorious villain organization.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to Ao3!

Chapter 1: The First Course

It was the busiest time of year at the soup kitchen. The weather had recently turned bitter cold and the promise of a warm meal and a respite from enduring the brutal weather was too good of an opportunity for people to pass up. You had started volunteering during high school, looking for a way to beef up your college applications, and found a great deal of personal fulfillment helping out others in your free time.

Now in college, you still made time to regularly volunteer even though your budget would greatly benefit from you picking up more shifts at your part time job instead. But you were driven to altruism by that stubborn organ beating in your chest; reminding you of how much you loved the regulars, your friends in the volunteer group, and the feeling of contributing something meaningful to society.

As much as you enjoyed the work, there were definitely plenty of things about it you wish you could change; the biggest being the terrible feeling you got when the time came to shut the door and cut the line off because you'd reached maximum capacity for the night. Having to turn people away, hungry and cold, always gnawed at your conscience and you desperately wished that you had a Quirk that could somehow stretch your food supply farther- make every bite more filling or every pot bottomless.

But you didn't. So as soon as the last pan of curry was placed up onto the chafing dish you waved to get the attention of the volunteer at the door, a massive literal bear of a man, who then began to make apologies to the people queued up outside as he closed up the entrance.

"Looks like Scruffy Hot Guy didn't make it in today," Kiyomi, your long time friend and fellow volunteer, teased with a gentle elbow to your ribs.

"Oh, hush!" You chide her sharply as you scoop up rice.

"Relax! It's not like I'm going to tell the guy you think he's- what were your words? 'Brooding and mysterious'?"

"I deeply regret telling you that," you grumble irritably as you slide a plate in front of Kiyomi for her to ladle a serving of curry onto. Laughing at your expense, you watched as she gave the curry a stir, counting the remaining chunks of chicken and mentally calculating how to divide them up fairly amongst the remaining guests in line. The next few plates were distributed without incident, people quietly thanking you both as they received their entrees and continued down the line as you and Kiyomi chatted together.

You were dishing up one of the final scoops when a deep, growling voice interrupted you.

"That ain't enough rice," the man in front of you grumbled in complaint. He was unbelievably tall, his head nearly scraping the spotty and discolored ceiling tiles as he crossed his arms across his chest, flexing his basketball-sized biceps in an obvious bid to intimidate you. You had never seen him before, but that wasn't terribly uncommon as people generally filtered in and out as they moved around the city looking for new job opportunities.

"Excuse me?"

"I said that ain't enough damn rice. That might be enough for a small thing like you but I need more."

"I'm sorry, sir. Everyone gets the same dinner serving size to keep things fair. Further down the line we have protein bars and fruit that you can supplement your meal with-"

"I don't want protein bars!" The man yelled. "Damn things taste like sawdust!"

You were about to offer another apology and attempt to diffuse the situation when another voice spoke out from behind the irate man.

"Take the food or get out of line."

"What did you say?" The man screamed, spinning around to confront the man behind him.

"Scruffy Hot Guy," Kiyomi gasped in delight. Sure enough, the object of your idle gossip appeared from behind the screaming man; somehow managing to appear both disinterested and profoundly irritated by the goings on in front of him.

"I'm hungry and you're holding up the line. Move, " he practically growled from behind his facemask, his red eyes narrowing in warning. The large stranger threw his head back, clearly amused by the willowy man's implied threat.

"Oh, yeah? Tell you what, why don't you just give me your portion then? No way a stick like you needs to eat much."

You didn't clearly see what happened next. There was no scuffle or physical altercation, just Scruffy Hot Guy hooking a finger over his facemask, preparing to pull it down, as he disappeared behind his aggressors' wide frame. The next thing you knew the large man was reeling back, white as a sheet, as he tripped over his feet in his hasty scramble to the exit.

Scruffy Hot Guy stepped forward in the line, now occupying the space in front of you as he adjusted his facemask back into position and pulled the sides of his hoodie forward to obscure his face as best he could.

"That was amazing," you breathed, scooping up a slightly larger helping of rice onto his plate now that there was one fewer person in line. "What did you even do to that guy? A Quirk thing?"

"Nah," Scruffy Hot Guy shrugged, scratching at his neck uneasily under your scrutiny. "I just showed him my face. Guess I must be pretty ugly."

"I sincerely doubt that," you laugh as you push his plate down the line towards Kiyomi. "But even if you were, I'd still give you my number if you asked for it," you said, staring directly into his eyes and raising your eyebrows imploringly. His eyes widened, obviously stunned by your flirtation. The skin above his facemask burned a brilliant red, temporarily coordinating with his eyes in a very fetching way.

He mumbles something under his breath as he quickly averts his eyes, hunching his shoulders as he shuffles down the line; grabbing the completed tray from Kiyomi’s hands before loading up his coat pockets with protein bars and trail mix packets and sliding into an open seat on the far end of the room.

Kiyomi shakes her head, laughing at your rejection as she preps the final plate of the evening.

“What?” you huff in exasperation. “You can’t blame me for shooting my shot! I’ve been waiting weeks for an opening!”

The last person in line, an old woman who came around every week or so, tsked disapprovingly. “The Gods take the time to craft a man with a butt like that and you wait weeks to make a move? Are you really that stupid?”

“Hey!” You screech indignantly while Kiyomi throws her head back, cackling. “I’m not stupid! Just…cautious. You never know what someone is really like, you know?”

“True enough,” the old woman hummed, gently rummaging through a pile of overripe bananas. “But I take it that you have a better idea of what sort of man he is now?”

You spared a glance over to the far side of the room, where Scruffy Hot Guy was slowly savoring his meal; his hood pulled low down low to obscure his face while he ate.

“Yeah, I think I do.”

Scruffy Hot Guy hadn’t seemed to be particularly receptive to your first advance, but he also hadn’t outright rejected you either. So you’re currently stuck occupying some sort of weird flirtatious limbo; unsure if you should continue your pursuit or abandon your efforts entirely.

Deciding to play it by ear, your life cycled through your normal routine until your next shift at the soup kitchen.

“Well, well, well! Look who it is!” Kiyomi crowed in delight as Scruffy Hot Guy stepped up in front of you again. “Our very own Hero has returned to us!”

“Please, Kiyomi,” you scoffed as you slid a grilled fish onto a plate. “He’s better than a Hero; he’s a good person.”

“Aren’t they pretty much the same thing?”

“Not always,” you mumble, using your tongs to scrape at some fish glaze that had burned at the bottom of the serving dish, entirely missing the interested gaze of Scruffy Hot Guy quietly assessing you.

"Oden today," you said as you ladled broth into a large soup bowl, chunks of fish cake floating up to the top.

Scruffy Hot Guy peered at the bowl, seemingly unimpressed by the offering.

"Not a fan?"

"It's fine," he mumbled, placing the bowl down gently on his tray, careful not to spill a single drop despite the bobbing radish slices sloshing the broth about.

"If you have an allergy or something there are some leftovers from yesterday I can reheat for you."

"No, nothing like that," he shook his head gently, pausing to spoon some seven spice on top of his bowl. "I usually try to pack some of the food away for later. But soup doesn't travel very well."

You hummed thoughtfully as he finished his meal selection and took his seat. Once the line had died down you ducked back into the kitchen, snagging a disposable coffee cup and lid before making your way back to the cafeteria. Silently, you deposit the empty cup next to Scruffy Hot Guy's tray before continuing on past his table to grab a tub of dirty dishes to haul back to the kitchen for cleaning.

"Thank you," he said quietly as you passed behind him, carefully spooning a hardboiled egg into the cup you'd left him.

"Of course."

"We have to stop meeting like this," you sighed dramatically, passing him a bowl of stir fried vegetables.

"How else would we meet? It’s obvious we run in very different social circles."

"What makes you say that?"

"Really?" Scruffy Hot Guy scoffed.

"I'm serious!" You pouted, looking critically down at the parts of your ensemble visible around the disposable apron you were required to wear. You took a lot of pride in your appearance, a good portion of your slush fund spent on building your wardrobe and keeping your nails finely manicured. Friends had joked about your high maintenance appearance in the past, but you personally likened yourself to a painting; already beautiful to start with but an absolute masterpiece with the right frame to accentuate your features. Finding no obvious flaws in your appearance, you narrow your eyes at him peevishly.

"Are you saying you'd be ashamed to be seen with me?"

" What," he sputtered, his voice pitched somewhere between shocked and indignant.

"Don't you 'what' me, mister! I'll have you know that I'm hot enough to roll with any crew."

"That's not the issue."

"It's not? So you think I'm hot then?" you pry coyly, fluttering your lashes. Choking on air, he slams his bowl of vegetables down onto his tray and quickly bumbles away as you laugh.

"Where’s the bun?" Scruffy Hot Guy asked, staring down at the lump of meat you were serving up.

"It's hamburg steak, not a hamburger."

"So it's a burger. With no bun."

"Right. No bun, but there is gravy. You want gravy?" You asked, waggling the ladle of onion sauce enticingly, some of it sloshing over the edge of the spoon and falling back into the pot with a wet squelch. Scruffy Hot Guy glared at the chunky sauce disdainfully before closing his eyes and sighing.

"Whatever."

"Gravy it is!" You cheer, pouring the sauce over the meat patty before passing it to him. "There you go! A hunk of meat for my favorite hunk."

Cheeks rosy above his facemask, he mumbled something intelligible before calmly stepping away. Smiling widely, you spun on your heel to face Kiyomi.

"He didn't run away!"

"He didn't run away," she confirmed, laughing as you pumped a fist in victory.

"Soooo," you drawl sweetly. "Am I ever gonna get a name out of you?"

Scruffy Hot Guy visibly stilled, obviously deeply uncomfortable by your current line of questioning.

"No need to answer if you don't want to. I won't pry. I can just call you by the nickname Kiyomi and I gave you," you offer in concession, laying a generous serving or rice gratin next to a small pile of lettuce leaves.

"What name is that?"

"Scruffy Hot Guy."

A sound that could be best described as some sort of plaintive wail escaped Scruffy Hot Guy as he scratched nervously at his throat.

"You should-," he paused to swallow thickly. "You should call me Tenko. It's better than- than that."

"Tenko it is, then. Hot Guy Tenko."

"You're insufferable," he growled.

"Well, misery loves company so how about you and I suffer together over coffee sometime?"

"Don't turn my insults into propositions," he chided, selecting a small pouch of dressing for his wilting salad.

"Sorry, no can do. I'm nothing if not persistent."

"Persistent? That's a considerate way to frame that bratty attitude of yours."

"Oh? What would you call me instead?"

"I would call you what you are," Tenko says, the space between his eyes crinkling with malicious glee. "An absolute Pest."

"Tenko!" You gasp, a gloved hand raised above your chest in mock outrage. "Save the cute nicknames for when we're in private!"

Tenko grunts irritably as he rolls his eyes and steps away from you.

Kiyomi whistles sharply, waving a hand to fan at her face. "Goodness, that was intense. When's the wedding going to be?"

"Spring next year. I want a long engagement so I can save for my dress," you grin, sending a wink at Tenko when you catch him trying to sneak a glance back at you. He glares back before dropping his head and digging into his meal.

The past few months had been the absolute lowest point in Tomura's life. His Master had been brought low and imprisoned in Tartarus, the League was fractured and forced underground, and all of his available resources had been drained during the frantic scramble for survival those first few weeks he spent on the lam. His life of ease and luxury had been erased in an instant; falling to ashes around him like he had dusted it with his Quirk himself. The summer months outside hadn’t been awful, but he had been forced from his favorite hiding spots once the weather turned colder.

These days, he spent the majority of his waking hours holed up in various arcades; lifting near empty play cards from unminded purses and pockets and taking hits from unstubbed cigarettes he pulled from the ashtrays to keep his hunger at bay. Whatever prizes he managed to win he would deliver to Toga during their brief meetups; small things like cell phone straps and plush animals that meant nothing to him, but that she would cradle to her chest with a delighted squeal like they were precious treasures.

When the League had split, Twice had tearfully supplied them all with maps of the areas he was familiar with. They were bizarre, scrawling things, folded up like origami cranes and written in a mix of precise pencil notes and wild glitter pen scribblings. The maps turned out to be just as useful as they were visually abrasive, though. He’d taken the time to write out common Hero patrol schedules, potential hide outs, the stores that sold the cheapest burner phones, and places to grab free meals. That was what brought him into the soup kitchen that first day.

He hadn’t been expecting a lot, because little was all he seemed to be capable of receiving these days. Little food, little sleep, little peace, little comfort. But he definitely hadn’t been expecting you.

You threw Tomura through a loop like you pitched for the Major Leagues; with a devastating and seemingly effortless force that left him awestruck and barely holding onto the metaphorical bat.

There had been plenty of women before. They were always there, buzzing about the fringes of wherever people of power congregated. But interactions with them were simply transactional, trading calculated touches and honeyed words for money or influence; things Tomura was awash in for years and freely utilized to sate his desires.

So flirting was a bit of a new experience for him.

He didn’t know what to do when you smiled at him; guileless and simply pleased by his presence. When you flirted with him it was out of some misguided, but sincere, desire to be closer to him. There was no angling for his money because there was no longer any money to be had. The mere idea that you found him somehow valuable and worthy of your attention was as flattering as it was bewildering and left Tomura floundering more often than not.

Tomura didn’t understand your interest. He’d seen himself in the mirror and held no illusions about his appeal. He was pale and lanky; crusty and scarred. He’d seen his partners hide grimaces when his shirt came off, their fingers giving his flaking skin a wide berth as they hesitantly set a course across his back and shoulders.

And as distasteful as his body was, Tomura knew his personality wasn’t much better.

There wasn’t a single thing about himself that should draw your attention. But he still desperately, recklessly, wanted it just the same.

“Shit,” Tomura whispered, dropping his head forward to thump against the window of the pachinko machine he was seated at, the wild pinging of the steel balls synchronizing distressingly well with the frantic beating of his heart.

You had been pulling on your regulation hair net when a flier on the bulletin board in the volunteer lounge caught your eye.

“Oh, no,” you moaned miserably. “We have a Hero Day coming up?”

Various groans of confirmation came from the other volunteers, each sounding as excited at the prospect as you were.

“Who is it this time?”

“Mt. Lady and Uwabami. They got into a spat at some televised fundraiser so their PR teams are shoving them together here to kiss and make nice for the cameras,” Kiyomi explained as she slipped the strap of a plastic apron over your head.

“Great. Just great,” you sneered as you hip checked the door open and made your way to the dining room.

“So, is today finally the day?”

“Is today the day for what? ” Tenko asked, waiting impatiently for you and Kiyomi to finish serving his tempura.

“Resolving this obvious tension between us by going out on a date together?”

Tenko narrowed his eyes, an inscrutable look on his face. “And where exactly would I take you to? A different soup kitchen?”

“Nah, this one’s pretty nice, don’t you think?”

Tenko sent a brief look off to the right, where a wet mop was propped up in the corner near the section of floor missing a large chunk of linoleum. “Nice. Sure. ”

“Well, nice enough for a first date at least.”

“If this place is first date worthy I can’t imagine what sort of place you’d consider for a second one.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see then, won’t you?” you replied with a wink.

“I guess I will,” Tenko said as he slid his tray down the line before looking back over his shoulder. “Well? Are you coming or not?”

Eyes wide, you spin around to face Kiyomi who’s silently mouthing the word ‘Go’ while shooing you away with frantic hands. Tugging off your gloves and hair net, you dashed out from behind the counter, skidding behind the last patron in line who called out as you passed:

“Get it, girly!” he cackled as you made a brief detour to dump your used sanitary into a trash can.

"I'm working on it, old man!" You hollered back, sliding into the chair opposite of Tenko while the other occupants of the table scrunched their chairs and trays towards the far end of the table to give you two some semblance of privacy.

"Hero Day?" Tenko sneered down at the flier on his tray that was advertising the fast approaching special event.

"Yeah," you sighed. "It gets really busy here on Hero Days, so we like to give the regulars a heads up. The Hero agencies usually donate larger quantities of better quality food, so the bigger meals draw in folks who would normally hit up other soup kitchens."

"So they bribe desperate people with food to act as props for their social media campaigns?"

"Yep," you agreed as you passed Tenko his plate, which he slammed down over the faces of Uwabami and Mt. Lady grinning up at him from his tray.

"Disgusting, " he spat as he stormed away to his usual seat.

The force of everyone's collective will power wasn't enough to stop Hero Day from arriving at the soup kitchen. The entire crew of volunteers had arrived unreasonably early that morning to clean the facility from top to bottom in preparation for the arrival of Mt. Lady, Uwabami, and the veritable fleet of sidekicks and photographers they would both bring. Once the janitorial work was completed and the entire front room smelled overwhelmingly of bleach, everyone migrated back into the kitchen and began assembling and bagging up sandwiches to be handed out to the scores of hungry folks who would be drawn to the large event but unable to make it inside before the line cuts off and the doors close.

You were stacking large boxes of finished sandwiches against the back wall when one of the volunteers, a middle-aged man with a bat mutation, paused in his work of spreading mayonnaise across slices of wheat bread when his ears twitched.

“They’ve arrived,” he warned quietly as he resumed his work. “And they don’t sound particularly happy.”

Kiyomi snorted. “What else is new?”

Another ear twitch. “Oh. Now they’re arguing with the Program Director. Things are getting heated. Someone should go up there and back her up.”

Everyone was quiet at the idea of having to go toe-to-toe with two Heroes and their sycophantic entourages.

“Not it!” Kiyomi called out, thrusting her hand into the air. The rest of the volunteers quickly followed, tossing their hands into the air to opt out. You had been halfway across the room, carrying a large box of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that prevented you from raising your hand.

“Real mature tactic there, everyone,” you snapped irritably as you set the box down and made your way to the door.

“Have fun!” Kiyomi said cheerily as she waved. You stuck your middle finger up in return and made your way up the hall to the dining room.

The scene you arrived at was chaotic.

Your Program Director, a usually sweet and accommodating woman, was red in the face and absolutely screaming at a sharply dressed man in an ash gray suit. Mt. Lady and Uwabami were seated as far from each other as physically possible in the moderate sized room, shooting icy glares at each other while their makeup teams toiled to get them camera ready. The tables in the dining room were already half full despite it being a couple of hours before you were set to open; the seats occupied by people in ill-fitting clothes with dirt smeared artfully across their faces while they passed the time tapping on the screens of expensive, top of the line phones. You hurry to your Director’s side, making excuses to the man in the suit and guiding her away from the altercation with a firm hand on her elbow.

Her eyes begin to water as her adrenaline crashes, and you grab a handful of scratchy napkins from a dispenser for her to dry her face with as she sobs.

“What’s going on here,” you ask gently, rubbing soothing circles on her bicep.

“Mt. Lady was worried about how the PR photos would turn out so she decided to hire some extras to pose for pictures with her,” she sniffed, dabbing at her face with shaking fists.

“ Some extras? We’re already at half capacity with all these people here!”

“I know .”

“And she’s just going to give away food to people she’s paying who can already afford to eat? While actually hungry people line up outside?”

The Director nodded miserably while you scrubbed a hand down your face, furious.

“I fucking hate Hero Day.”

There wasn’t a force on Earth that would force Tomura into the soup kitchen on the day when it would be swarming with Heroes and their worshippers, but his stomach was still making a strong case for itself despite his iron-clad will. Being able to obtain regular meals made missing one even harder because the gnawing hunger tearing through his gut was an unfamiliar pain that demanded his full attention. One hand held a nearly empty can of coffee, all he could afford with change he found on the ground today, while his other hand was buried deep in his coat pocket, systematically bending each of Father’s fingers into a fist before carefully straightening them out again and setting about to bend them once more.

He continued fiddling with his macabre fidget toy as he watched tiny snowflakes drift past the covered bus stop he was currently tucked away in; the plexiglass walls doing nothing to trap in heat but they did stop the blustery wind from chilling him down to the bone. A soft knock next to his head drew his attention away from the falling flurries as he quickly spun to investigate the sound; finding you standing outside of the bus shelter, waving gently.

Snowflakes had settled onto your eyelashes and they glittered fetchingly under the sickly yellow glow from the streetlight overhead.

"Mind if I join?" Your voice was muffled and distant through the plexiglass, but Tomura heard you clearly enough. He nodded his assent and you beamed at him, quickly jogging to the entrance while pulling a large shopping trolley behind you.

"Brr!" You exclaim as you settle next to him, closer than he should have allowed but still not as close as he wanted. The trolley was situated in front of you both, and your thigh ended up brushing against Tomura's when you leaned forward to root through it. He inhaled sharply at the innocent contact, his skin tingling with something other than chills where you pressed up against him.

"Are you hungry? I've been making the rounds with sandwiches and fruit and have some leftovers. I've got ham and swiss or turkey and cheddar."

"Whatever's fine," Tomura said as you passed him a sandwich and an oblong apple that he immediately pulled down his mask to take a bite of. It was mealy and so cold it caused his teeth to ache, but he polished it off in record time and dropped the remaining core into the plastic bag he extracted the sandwich from.

He examined you from under his lashes, tugging down his hood to obscure his face as you did a quick tally of the remaining supplies in your trolley.

"You're not at the soup kitchen today?"

"Nope. Not my usual shift anyway. I go in and help prep for the Hero Day visits, but me and the other volunteers leave early when the camera crews roll in. We split up and pass out food on the streets instead."

"Didn't want to stick around for some autographs?"

"Hardly," you snorted inelegantly, tugging your gloves further down onto your fingers. "We can't pass up on the donations the Hero Agencies offer up, but I refuse to participate in their meaningless virtue signaling. If they actually wanted to help out they would just volunteer normally like the rest of us," you sniff in irritation, grinding a scratched off lottery ticket under the heel of your boot.

"But instead they roll in with a cavalcade of reporters, serve up a couple of meals, and then wait for people on social media to tell them how thoughtful and good they are for putting on a show. It's like a fireman showing up to a house fire, spitting on the flames, and then having people applaud them while the house is still burning."

"Like, Heroes have the money and the influence to actually help people, to really make a difference. But instead they just waste their resources on meaningless stuff and- ugh, I don't know. I guess I'm just frustrated because I can't imagine a scenario where I would prioritize acquiring fake internet points over providing a living, breathing person with a meal."

Sighing in frustration, you cross your arms and lean against the wall, your head tilted back to observe the falling snow like Tomura had been doing when you arrived.

"Think we'd be better off without them?" Tomura asked, peeling off a section of bread crust and popped it into his mouth.

"Hmm? Without who?"

"Heroes. Do you think they're necessary?"

You're quiet for a moment, thoughtful. Obviously weighing your words carefully before replying.

"It's hard to say, I suppose,” you begin hesitantly. “This is the way the world's been the entire time I've been alive; so I don't have anything to really compare it to. But I believe that things could be- should be , better than they are now. I want there to be change, but I don't know what the best course of action for that sort of thing would be."

Tomura hummed, a sound of acknowledgement if not agreement, as he finished off his sandwich and pulled his mask back into place. His meager disguise once again in place, Tomura leaned his head back and joined you in watching the snow flutter to the ground. The small flurries had all but disappeared and were replaced by fat, puffy flakes; dramatic bits of fluff that stayed airborne for longer than seemed possible before they settled delicately onto the ground.

"I really love night time snow. It's so romantic, don't you think?"

"Can't say I've ever given it much thought," Tomura said, attempting to keep his voice level and casual and you slowly and cautiously slid towards him on the bench, the distance between you narrowing at a glacial pace that had Tomura nearly writhing in anticipation. You came to a stop achingly close to Tomura, the remaining gap an open invitation for him to reach out, to touch, to accept whatever beautiful and intangible thing you were offering up to him.

If Tomura were a good man, someone with a noble heart or a modicum of self-restraint, he would have tried to resist the temptation echoing in that sliver of space between you. But he was, at his core, selfish and greedy; traits that had only been compounded by the past few months of hardship. With so few things to his name, what he did possess became infinitely more precious and jealously guarded. And here you were, entirely of your own volition, offering to become one of his rare possessions; to lay down willingly in his hoard- a priceless jewel amongst common trinkets for him to admire.

The back of Tomura’s hand made contact with you first, gently skirting up the outside of your thigh. You gasp, a sudden, breathy sound that sends a large cloud of condensation exploding into the air in front of your face as his hand continues its journey up the side of your body. When his hand reaches your shoulder he carefully extends two fingers and sends them walking over your shoulders, a measured, unhurried march as they make their way across your back. Once his arm is fully behind you he extends his thumb and wraps your bicep in a three fingered grip and pulls you towards him, the distance between your bodies erased as the grooves and divots of your bodies mold and settle into one and other.

“Oh, Tenko,” you breathe, nuzzling into the cradle of his shoulder. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

“Of course,” Tomura says as he runs an index finger across the swell of your cheek, smirking as you lean into his touch. “I’m not planning to let you go.”

Tenko had slid in through the soup kitchen doors a few minutes prior and you couldn't help the feeling of exhilaration that roiled in your belly and bubbled up your sternum as he drew closer to you in line. The shift in your relationship was a recent and exciting novelty. Every interaction was littered with relationship firsts; delicate threads of moments that would weave into precious memories you bundled your heart into to keep it warm in Tenko's absence.

He was next in line, paused before Kiyomi as she placed a nearly expired rice ball donated from a local convenience store on his plate.

"You sure you want onigiri tonight?" Kiyomi asked, grinning fiendishly at Tenko as she added a couple of pickled plums next to the rice ball.

"Are there any other options?"

"Well, you do have the option of this hot dish right here!" Kiyomi cackles as she elbows you roughly in the side, sending you stumbling out of place. You grumble, rubbing at the impact point with your forearm so you wouldn't have to change your gloves.

"I hope that you aren't offering her up to everyone in line," Tenko warned, his gaze steely as he narrowed his eyes at Kiyomi. She swallowed thickly, shaking her head rapidly from side to side.

"No! Of course not!"

"Good," Tenko said as he reached out for the plate you were holding out to him, running two fingers softly across the exposed band of skin above your glove, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake.

"I've never been one for sharing."

Ever since that night at the bus stop Tenko had been staying late with you at the soup kitchen, awkwardly holding a mop in a pincer grip as he unenthusiastically pushed it around the edges of the room while you and the other volunteers closed up shop. Once the doors were locked and you’d waved good-bye to your fellow workers, you and Tenko would set out into the city together. On days when you had a lot of homework or a looming exam he would escort you to the train station, both of you shortening your gaits to draw out the precious few minutes of time you could spend together. But when your schedule was more flexible you would wander around aimlessly; examining the garish holiday displays set up in store windows or settling on a park bench for extended bouts of people watching.

Today found you both wandering through a pop-up market, weaving through crowds of harried shoppers and visibly distressed men trying to point their girlfriends and wives to vendors hawking less expensive potential Christmas gifts. You were comparing the prints of a few different scarves when you noticed the first flurry drift through your line of sight. With an excited squeal, you turned to find Tenko, sliding your arms around his waist and bouncing happily on the balls of your feet.

“It’s starting to snow again!”

“So it is,” Tenko said, a smile present in the timbre of voice. Tilting your head back to gaze up into the inky sky, you sighed happily as the tiny flakes multiplied and spun around in dizzying patterns above you.

“You weren’t kidding when you said you liked snowy nights,” Tenko said, observing your dreamy smile with soft eyes.

“Yeah. It’s as close as us city dwellers can really get to seeing a sky full of stars. When I was a kid I would pretend that all the snowflakes in the sky were shooting stars, each of them racing as fast as they could to grant my wishes,” you admit bashfully, slightly embarrassed by your past whimsey.

Tenko hummed thoughtfully as he gazed at the icy flakes darting through the sky.

“They’re going to need to go faster than that if they want to beat me,” he said, dropping his head down to nuzzle into your neck. “Because there isn’t anything in this universe that wants to grant your wishes more than I do.”

“Is that so?” you giggle as Tenko buries his face under your coat collar, his chilly cheeks and warm puffs of air making your skin break out into delighted tingles.

“Yes ,” Tenko sighed against your skin, mask bunched up over his nose as he layered kisses across your collarbone.

“Well, that’s pretty convenient since all I find myself wishing for these days is you.”

“You should wish for something better.”

“I don’t think there is anything better,” you say as you comb your fingers through the loose strands of hair falling across Tenko’s forehead. “Not for me, anyway.”

Tenko’s arms tightened around your waist to an almost painful degree, like he was trying to pull you through his layers of flesh and sinew and into his chest; tucking you tightly into the space beside his heart, caged safely behind his ribs.

And you were happy to let him try.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x you #tomura x y/n #tomura x reader #tomura x you #mha x you #mha x reader #mha x y/n #mha x female reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha x self insert #pigeoncoos🕊

114 notes · View notes