#clumsy partner prompt fill

[allylikethecat]

hellooooo ally!! i have officially read it’s christmas (so this is gonna be a nightmare) twice lucky me!!! what a treat!!! i have so many thoughts and feelings about the fic you don’t understand how much i love the trope/concept of fic!matty not being liked or accepted by people outside the band because of his “quirks” (serious and personal mental health/ addiction issues) because it’s just so unfair. perfect angst and also very realistic???? being written off as Bad News because he experiences hardships that are more scary and extreme than most people?? so wonderfully devastating and very real.

you aren’t allowed to apologise for the fic not being finished. you’ve done it to every other ask but i’m putting my foot down. no apology please!!! releasing it in parts just builds suspense anyways i love it.

now for the clumsy partner prompts!!! thankyou sooooo much for reblogging the list i feel very blessed. i’d like to request gatty 15, 16, 17 and 18 (they are all pretty similar so you could maybe combine some in one blurb? but obviously im not telling you how to write do whatever calls to you i just feel bad for requesting so many at once😅)

as always have a lovely rest of your day and i’m really looking forward to whatever you post next!!! love ya😇🩷

Hello! Thank you so, so, so much for reading the first bit of the Christmas fic not only once but TWICE! I hope it's lived up to the hype even if it's not finished yet. Poor Fictional!Matty just wants his future in laws to like him, because he's not the same person he was when he was in his early twenties, he's worked on himself and deserves to be given a chance! Also I will not apologize for the fic not being finished by Christmas as requested even though I am sorry that I didn't finish it - it will hopefully be finished by the end of January at the latest!

Also!! thank you so much for not only suggesting the clumsy partner prompts to me, but also sending in this prompt request! I wanted to challenge myself a little bit, so I actually (I think!) managed to weave all four of them into one fill! Let me know what you think! If this wasn't what you were looking for, let me know and I will rewrite them! (If anyone else wants to send in any prompts, the list can be found HERE)

Thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask and for always just being so lovely and wonderful and supportive! I'm so sorry that it's taken me a minute to get to some of your other prompt requests as well! I hope you enjoy this one though and I look forward to hearing your thoughts! Thank you again!!

❤️Ally

15. “I’m sorry I’m so much trouble, really.”

“Shhh, stop it. You're no trouble at all, zero.”

16. Their partner sometimes feeling that their clumsy tendencies ruin everything and them, actually finding it endearing. They are sure to let their partner know they love it.

17.  “Oh, I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t mess it up, go on and give it a try.”

18. Makes it clear to their partner and anyone on the outside that just because they’re worried, doesn’t mean that their partner needs them or depends on them. It’s simply their partner allowing them to do the things that make them comfortable because they’re always worrying.

Matty knew he wasn’t the most coordinated person on the face of the Earth. He was always tripping over his feet, his head in the clouds as he bumped into things and other people, stumbling over curbs and spilling cups of coffee. George always had bandages in his backpack, and an extra Matty-sized shirt for when an inevitable incident occurred. His knees were permanently bruised and his palms forever scrapped. Despite George’s endless patience, and “I’ll kiss it betters” Matty wanted to die each time they were late for a meeting because Matty ate it in the parking lot. 

He had been horrible at sports as a child, his limbs never seeming to want to move the way he directed them, despite not being very large he felt like he had never properly grown into his body and developed the spacial awareness and grace that George seemed to carry. He had tried yoga but just grew frustrated at the disconnect he felt from his physical form and had quickly given up, citing some bullshit about not subscribing to George’s crunchy granola agenda. They both knew he was spouting nonsense. 

Thanks to Matty, they were going to be twenty minutes late to their first fully staged rehearsal for the new tour. Matty was so careful focusing on his footfalls, holding his Starbucks cup away from his body so it wouldn’t splash onto his white tee shirt. He wasn’t even wearing his airpods, he was making sure he was aware of his surroundings George until he tripped on a crack in the sidewalk. He managed to not only spill his coffee down his entire front, but bang his elbow on the cement so that it was now bleeding sluggishly. Matty sat on his ass in a puddle of coffee trying to comprehend what just happened while George looked on in mild horror.

“Are you alright?” George asked softly, voice thick with concern as he helped pull Matty to his feet, careful of his bleeding elbow, scarlet splatter bright against the white coffee stained fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m fine,” Matty said, his lower lip wobbling in frustration. He wanted to pull away from George’s grasp but wasn’t sure his shaking knees would support him on his own. His elbow stung and he wanted to cry in frustration. If he couldn’t walk down the street, how was he ever supposed to handle thirty nine North American tour dates? 

Today was supposed to be a good day, Matty thought hysterically, an important day, and as per usual not only were they late, it was his fault.

“Hey,” said George, tugging Matty into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s okay, you’re okay. Let’s go get you patched up, I think I have an extra shirt in my bag.”

Because of course he had an extra shirt, because he knew that Matty couldn’t be expected to walk normally like an adult without spilling something. Matty should have woken up earlier and drank his coffee at home, sitting safely at the kitchen table. George led him through the doors of  the venue they were renting for rehearsal space, flashing their credentials to the security guard and following the signs in the hallway to lead him straight to the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry,” said Matty, his voice wet, fuck he really was about to start crying, as George helped him sit up on the lip of the sink so that he could clean his elbow with a damp brown paper towel. “I’m sorry I’m so much trouble, really.”

“Shhh, stop it.” said George, pulling away so that he could look Matty in the eyes. “You're no trouble at all, zero.” 

“But I’m always tripping over myself and ruining things,” Matty said with a sniffle. 

George threw the paper towel away and pulled a box of bandages and a small tube of antibiotic ointment out of his backpack. He dabbed the ointment gently against Matty’s scraped skin with a careful kindness that made Matty’s heart hurt. He didn’t deserve George. 

“It’s kind of cute,” George said quietly, after a moment, Matty swallowing a hiss of pain as the scrap stung. “Like obviously, I don’t like it when you get hurt, it makes me quite nervous actually, but you’re cute, like a baby deer discovering they have legs for the first time.” 

“A baby deer?” Matty asked, raising his eyebrow amongst the pain, his eyes still wet even as he tried to force a smile. 

“The cutest baby deer,” said George with a small grin, smoothing the bandage over Matty’s elbow before leaning down to press a kiss to the plaster. 

Matty just snorted in response, and hopped off the counter, pretending he didn’t notice the way George was hovering at his side, ready to reach out and grab him in case something went wrong. 

“Thanks,” he said, taking the offered black tee shirt from George and pulling off the now stained white one he was wearing. He pretended not to notice the way George was blatantly checking out his chest and stomach as if he didn’t see him naked on a daily basis. 

“It’s nice of you to join us,” said Ross smirking, “Even if you’re never beating the diva allegations, Healy.”  Matty sighed dramatically when they finally joined the group in front of the stage, his eyes going wide as he took in his vision come to life.

“I had a little mishap in the parking lot,” he admitted sheepishly, holding out his now bandaged elbow for Ross and Adam to see. 

“You’ve got to be more careful mate,” said Adam, ruffling Matty’s hair as they sat down on the sofa that had been brought into the space, and went over the stage show with Tobias. 

“I want to cut the song on the roof,” Matty said quietly after a moment, when the time came in the first run through for him to put on a harness and climb up onto the roof portion of their set. The music stopped as Matty chewed on his lower lip nervously. 

George blinked, that was a segment that Matty had been dead set on, and excited to perform, having chattered about the visual implications of doing so and how it furthered the story for weeks. 

“What?” George asked his expression of concern and confusion mirrored on Ross and Adam’s faces as well.

“Oh, I don’t want to mess it up.” Matty said softly with a shrug, “I’m so clumsy I’ll probably fall off the roof and traumatize our fan base or something.” 

“You won’t mess it up,” George assured him even if Ross and Adam looked skeptical.  “Go on and give it a try.”

Matty opened his mouth as if to argue but George just shook his head. “No, go on, try it out, there is a whole team of people that are going to make sure you’re okay, and you’ll have the harness so even if you do slip, you won’t fall far.” 

Matty swallowed hard but nodded, having needed the extra push from George, to disappear into the makeshift backstage. 

“You sure this is a good idea?” Ross asked quietly, stepping away from his microphone to make sure Matty didn’t hear him. “I was worried about it when he was all excited about it, but now if he’s even having second thoughts...” 

George shrugged, fiddling with one of the drum sticks. “I’m worried, obviously,” George said, “but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t support him, he wanted to do the song on the roof, so we should at least try the song on the roof, there are foot holes, and handles up there, plus he has a harness on to make sure even if he does fall he won’t fall far.” 

“You’re a better man than me,” said Adam, “I’d have Carly wrapped in bubble wrap if she was as accident prone as Matty.”

George shrugged, smiling when he looked up and saw Matty waving from the roof, before flashing a thumbs up. 

“We’re partners,” George reminded him, “and that means working together as a team.” 

#allylikethecat #ask ally #keep it kind #fanfiction #matty fic #gatty #fanfic #prompt fill #prompt fills #clumsy partner prompts #clumsy partner prompt fills #clumsy partner prompt fill #thank you so much again for sending in this list #and also requesting these prompts #and all of your kind words about my writing #you're so lovely and supportive and i am so very grateful #thank you so much!

[luna-writes-stuff]

What types my favourite Game Of Thrones characters would fall for

Includes Robb Stark, Sansa Stark, Jon Snow, Oberyn Martell, Margaery Tyrell, Brienne Of Tarth, Daenerys Targaryen, and Tormund Giantsbane

————————————————————————

Robb Stark:

Robin Stark is 100% the person to fall for personality rather than looks. And something he has always admired, is someone with a creative mind. In the North, there is a lot of pessimism and realism. There isn’t much room for glee, daydreaming and imagination. So when he first meets you in one of the garden, writing away in your own notebook filled with words of your own worlds and thoughts, he is intrigued. Of course, you are adamant about talking about your work, let alone show it. But Robb is patient. He spends every single day talking to you, entertaining you and even accompanying you on walks. This man is completely gone for you. So, when you ultimately decide to give him a sneak peek, his entire face lights up. And your writing? It’s insane. He needs a library filled with your books right now. He is constantly asking about new ideas, even offering some, though they’re usually a tad bit….dark. But he tries! Will absolutely brag about it to others. He knows you don’t like to show everyone, but he will definitely let others know that his significant other can write. Don’t ever shut up about your ideas and prompts. This man wants to hear all of them. Every single one, even the late night cold sweat dream ones.

——

Sansa Stark:

Sansa can be rough around the edges. And who is to blame her after all she’s been dragged through? She needs someone who will look at things the kinder way, yet be decisive. Someone who can make interest out of the best of their heart. Sansa deals with issues from a neutral perspective, unless it is something close to her. But she can use a compassionate look at things. Then, all the same, she needs a supporting shoulder constantly. Someone who is able to slightly alter her decisions, but still let her do the main thing. If she wishes to have someone punished, they will. But all in good due. When the sun sets, she can let her guard down and rant about all the issues on her mind. She needs a confidential person for that, and who better than you? A comforting hand, a loving embrace, a gentle kiss. A good nice rest in the arms of those she loves most.

——

Jon Snow:

Jon has humour. He does. It’s hidden, but he does. And we saw how he was with Ygritte. Make him laugh in any way, and his heart can - and will - skip a beat. Whether it is because you are clumsy, childish, mischievous, or simply hilarious. He adores you. Something like you in the North is rare, and he plans on treasuring it for as long as he can. And when there is a day you won’t be laughing or trying to make others laugh, he grows concerned so quickly. It’s all fun and jokes until you stop laughing. All over you, constantly. Hiding you under his robe, standing in front of you the entire time, shooting you reassuring glances and smiles, reaching for your arm often to check if you’re still there. He does it. It’s those little gestures that grow so endearing, that you cannot help but smile at him. And that’s honestly all he needs.

——

Oberyn Martell:

Give him a charismatic partner. Someone who teases him back twice as hard, returns his pick up lines and messes with him from time to time. Play around with him and tug on his heart strings just a little too tight. He loves it. Playful smiles, far-off winking, stares at each other from the other side of the room. He was taken with you when your eyes first met his. He immediately knew there was this something about you. He’ll introduce you to others constantly, even if you are not around. You don’t know he does this, but he is so enamoured with you, he wants to announce it to everyone, even though that might not always be as clever. You’re being under protection the entire time, even from a distance. He has to make sure you are safe, constantly. If something were to happen to you, he’d never forgive himself.

——

Margaery Tyrell:

Margaery is a very artistic person. She grow up with artists all around her, and though she is somewhat skilled herself, this doesn’t mean she doesn’t admire the others. You’d have met in her home castle, working on one of your pieces when she simply walks in. Initially, she had the rooms mixed up, but she remained once she found your projects. She was a princess: you couldn’t tell her to get out. Of a room. Of a palace. Which her family owns. She starts taking immediately, apologising for entering the wrong room, but then moving on to your works decorating the walls. It is a whole different technique than she is used to, and it is somewhat entrancing. She’ll ask for inspiration, motivation and all those things, genuinely curious about your manner of working. From that day, she shows up twice a day, once with lunch, once without anything. Those talks made her fall for you at first; not your art, not your looks - though that was a win -, but you passion about your hobbies and career. And seeing you so motivated about her, awes her so much.

——

Brienne Of Tarth:

BIG STRONG WOMAN GOES WHOOSH. But when big strong woman sees compassionate and kind significant other, she grows all soft. She’ll do anything to grab your attention, though she will be hesitant at first. She has dealed with a lot of prejudice and harmful words throughout her life, and she fears you will reject her. Deep down, she knows you wouldn’t. You couldn’t even harm a fly. But she’s insecure. Yet, the second you choose to talk to her after seeing her countless attempts, she freezes completely. You’re actually talking to her? Thoughts everywhere. No words whatsoever. You observe her when she’s training, stay by her side when she is travelling, and offer to clean her wounds after fights. And it’s so intimate and endearing, and Brienne grows so flustered of it every single time. There will never be a day she wouldn’t. Big strong woman turns into mush.

——

Daenerys Targaryen:

Daenerys is definitely the person who is interested in all kinds of cultures and arts. And what better way to introduce those to her than to write music about it? You’d accompany her on her journey to Westeros, offering entertainment and music on the ships and walks. Whether you can sing or play an instrument, it doesn’t matter to her. But when she first met you on that square, trying to earn a little bit of money for your family, she immediately offered shelter and food. And ever since, you have been with her. You’ll be sitting on your bed, creating your own musical piece, and she’ll simply join you, her hand resting on your lap as a silent encouragement, and - if possible - her head on your shoulder, staring out of the windows in simple bliss. After everything she’s been through and is going through, you are her rock; her one place she can be safe and let go for a short moment.

——

Tormund Giantsbane:

Ironically enough, I’d think he’d go really well with someone incredibly stubborn. Someone who is set to do things their own way and will do anything to get it. He falls head over heels for looks primarily, but the confidence you radiate in your speech and actions actually stuns him. You go against him or Jon? He isn’t insulted. Kind of turned on, which he wouldn’t admit to you. Jon knows all about it though. But you can, weirdly enough, intimidate him. You’re so sure of yourself, it makes him doubt himself. Surely you wouldn’t need someone like him? It is not that he gets insecure about it, not at all, he simply hesitates his attitude towards you. The last thing he wants is for you to grow pissed at him and never look at him again. He couldn’t live with that. Once you two do get together, it is like fire and fire. Usually, that would be a bad thing, but your playful banter, teasing looks and general breathtaking combination is something to actually die for.

#christmas week with luna 2022 #got #game of thrones #Robb stark #robb stark x reader #jon snow #jon snow x reader #Sansa stark #sansa stark x reader #margaery tyrell #margaery tyrell x reader #Tormund Giantsbane #tormund giantsbane x reader #Oberyn Martell #oberyn martel x reader #brienne of Tarth #brienne of tarth x reader #daenerys targaryen #Daenerys Targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader

[cosmicstarlatte]

Levi A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me!)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (9 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

tags: punishment, humiliation Every once in a while you need to punish him, either he spent way too much on otaku merch or he's been missing classes too much, whatever. You'll usually sit on him & tease him as he tries to play on his PC. He knows what you're doing & he begs to feel you, please he'll 'do better' he says. Unfortunately for him his poor cock won't get that sweet relief exactly. he can beg & whine all he wants & rub desperately against you but he's still gonna have to cum in his pants.

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

It was clumsy & cute. The poor otaku was so nervous, he couldn't believe he could bag such a baddie. Someway somehow even with the nervousness he still felt calm with you, if that makes any sense. He was more worried about you than him & he just wanted to make you feel good. especially when he came rather quickly before the 1st round. Anyway, the nerd is packin' & those hands & tongue work skillfully. ...You definitely went a few good rounds into the night & left each other a mess before finally taking a sweet bath together. After, you guys cuddled under a warm blanket & watched a lighthearted anime. ♡

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

tags: Possessive, Love bites/Marking, Scenting Sweetie, he's the avatar of envy. When it's extreme, there's no hiding it, he gives in. That sweet shy nervous otaku? Gone. He's bringing & giving grand admiral energy, he's giving 'one of the powerful lords of hell.' Sure he could summon Lotan or use something else if he wants to, but all he really needs is to say "Go away" in a icy cold voice & glare that makes thousands of soldiers shiver. You almost feel sorry for any bastard that tries to make him jealous. Even after they leave though, he wants nothing more but to mark you with visible love bites & rub his scent all over you. He made it easily known to his brothers to not touch what's his.

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

It happens frequently hehe. You tend to stay over a lot to watch a marathon or play games. Levi's libido is strong, he's always down to fuck in the morning, it brightens his spirit. Watching you take his cock & filling you up right before school is the perfect way to start the day. It's especially motivating when he knows you walk around the entire day with his cum between your legs, he cant wait to come home & fuck you again. (If he can wait that long)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

You know what I'm not gonna lie, I think he'd be just a tad disappointed at first. Of course he reminds himself a lot of porn is fake anyway & then he really tunes in to the small delicious sounds you do reveal. The faces you make. The little bits you let him hear are still so very fucking hot & sexy. He's the one making you sound like that either way~

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

Ah...Levi is easy. He's not very good at hiding it. A flushed face and a small sheen of sweat to him. He gets a little extra irritable as well. The biggest sign is the tent in his pants when he's around you. Sorry, but he doesn't hide it very well, it's obvious when he looks like he's trying to hide something when he tries to cover up down there. (I wonder if he does it on purpose?)

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

Do you realize what you've done? The first time you sent him a video, he got instantly hard & couldnt stop cumming to that video. Unfortunately for him he kept getting hard any time he thought about it that week, it was embarrassing walking around with a constant erection. His first few videos in response were a little clumsy, but it turned you on. He was a loud moaner & he loved to whimper. Little whiney pants when he was getting close always did it for you. He made sure to take better video, especially audio when he learned you really loved his moans. ♡

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

tags: overstimulation The only thing on his mind is getting you off the entire night until you're crying & begging him to stop. Until you're drained. He knows it's about the two of you celebrating but...you're his life partner now! He's so grateful you chose him out of everyone. Please let him worship you tonight, lay back & let him handle it. He promises he's enjoying this as much as you are. Promise.

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

tags: double dicks, creepy!pervy!levi I'm not going to lie to y'all, Levi's a freak. (Okay we knew this) He watches all kinds of porn, both real & hentai. I'd say it's nearly an every day thing, it's hard taking care of two monster cocks & he needs to empty his balls. His favorite? POV hentai vids. Especially ones that look like you... Perhaps he has a few commissioned hentais where they look like the two of you...

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

#Levi: #obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me leviathan smut #obey me leviathan headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x you #obey me leviathan x mc #obey me levi #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca, my love. A huge congratulations on your follower celebration. You deserve every single one and a thousand more 🥳❤️

So... I wanna push you out of your comfort zone a little and request a little drabble made from a gif and I'm gonna choose our dear Rumlow 😉

But also... can I pair it with a kiss prompt? "If you win, I'll kiss you"

No pressure at all, since you haven't written for Rumlow before, but I hope this could inspire you 😁❤️

My lovely Lily,

Thank you for being such a good friend to me, you’re always so supportive and encouraging. And thank you for following me and being a part of my celebration. It means so much to me that you read my fics and our daily chats are some of the best parts of my day.

And thank you for this ask, I’m REALLY nervous about writing for Rumlow so I hope you like what I did here. Oh and it’s a little more than a drabble 🤣

Never Again

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of domestic abuse, injuries as a result of said abuse, lessons in boxing and Krav Maga, little violent.

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: You’re relatively new in town and you start working out at a nearby gym where you notice someone there that could help you with a problem from your past.

A/N: So yes this is my first time writing for Rumlow, I’m terrified but I had fun writing for someone new. And it’s a little longer than I intended but such is life! I hope you like it. And this has a very J Lo in Enough feel to it.

*********

You passed that building every day on your way to the gym. It was intimidating to look at even from across the water, wondering what was inside, wondering if anyone was looking down at you as you drove by the large complicated building with more windows than you could count but it was the building that he headed for every day after his workout.

Well, he did on the days that you and he finished your workouts at the same time.

Sometimes you would sneak into the part of the gym that had the boxing ring and watch him while you jumped rope, not well, but it was passable. He was amazing to watch, dominating his sparring partners with what looked like a combination of fighting styles.

Boxing, Krav Maga, Karate, and probably a few more but you didn’t know the difference. You had no idea how to fight, but you wanted to learn.

It might be helpful the next time your ex finds you because you knew there would be a next time.

The daily routine of trying to cover your bruises with makeup was exhausting and you didn’t want to do it anymore, you didn’t want to be scared anymore so you decided you were going to approach him.

He had a daunting look to him, wild brown hair, amber colored eyes, days old stubble, and his face always looked like he was filled with a dark rage but you had caught him smiling a couple of times when he wasn’t busy being cranky. So he did know how to smile but it was painfully obvious he didn’t do it very often.

After an aggressive run on the treadmill, you turned to step off and crashed right into him. He looked annoyed at first but when he looked into your eyes, his expression softened. You immediately apologized.

“Shit, I am so so sorry. Are you ok?” You asked, wiping the sweat off of your face.

Anger returned to his face when he looked at yours.

When you had wiped the sweat off of your face, you had taken some of your makeup with it, uncovering the greenish-yellow bruise around your eye that you had forgotten was there.

“Who did that to you?” He asked with a gruff tone to his voice.

Not remembering you had a bruise around your eye, you replied to his question. “Did what?”

He moved in closer and feeling his breath against your eyelashes, he gently turned your face toward the mirrors along the wall.

“That! Who did THAT to you?” He repeated again.

Quickly turning away from the mirrors and breaking away from his touch, you lied to him.

“Oh I’m just really clumsy, I walked into the corner of the door.” You said.

He seemed annoyed with your answer. “Right, if you say so, Miss. Have a good day.” And with that, he turned to leave.

But you didn’t want him to. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“WAIT!” You called out.

He stopped, turned and waited for you to catch up to him.

“Teach me…please.” You begged. “I’ve tried restraining orders, the police, they won’t help me. I feel like you might be the only one who can…I’ve seen you fight.”

He dropped his bag from his shoulder, placed his hands on his hips, and glanced at the ground before returning his gaze to you. The heat coming from his body hit your exposed skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and returned his arms to rest at his sides. Bending at the waist, he picked up his gym bag and started to walk away.

Your stomach dropped as you watched him walk away before he turned to look at you once again.

“Be here tomorrow…noon. I’m Brock…Rumlow. Be ready to work. If you are thirty seconds late, I’m walking.” He said.

“Of course, yes I will be here Mr. Rumlow.” You said in a shaky tone. “I’m y/n.”

Brock cracked a slight smile. “Just Brock, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow. And do me a favor…”

He closed the distance between your bodies so he could whisper in your ear.

“Leave those bruises uncovered. I want you to take one more look at them because after I’m done with you, those will be the last set of bruises he’ll ever give you.” He growled and he walked away without turning back.

You had a feeling you were in for a long afternoon tomorrow.

**********

The clock said 11:45.

You made sure you weren’t just on time, you were early, changed and ready to work. You saw Brock walk in and head straight for the locker room, he was dressed in what looked like tactical clothing, all black from head to toe and black boots. He noticed you waiting for him and he held up one finger as if to tell you “one minute” or “be right out.”

You had done as he requested and left all of your visible bruises uncovered. The one around your eye was going away but you could still see the greenish-yellow mark on your face and also the hand and fingerprints on your arms and neck.

Feeling self-conscious, you tried to position yourself in a way where they weren’t so visible but it didn’t do any good. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though they weren’t. They didn’t look as bad as they did before and they were also taking a long time to fade.

He emerged from the locker room dressed in black shorts, sneakers, and a white muscle shirt, plus his signature sour look to his face. But you had to admit, that look was rather sexy.

You watched carefully as Brock taped up your hands and then taped up his own. You were a fast learner so you should be able to tape up your own hands tomorrow, if you lasted through your first workout.

“Ya ever done any self-defense or boxing before, sweetheart?” He asked.

You shook your head before answering him. “No, never.”

“Ok…well, hope you’re ready to work.” He said.

“I am.” You replied.

And he did work you, he worked you harder than you’ve probably worked out ever before. He started with the basics…how to stand, loose knees, elbows tucked in, and the basic punches.

Brock showed you the jab, the cross, and the hook. Then taught you some of the basic combination punches: 1-2 (jab-right cross), 1-1-2 (jab-jab-cross), and the 1-2-hook-2.

Your time together went by quickly. And more than once you had caught Brock looking at the blue and purple marks on your upper arms as you threw punch after punch, encouraging you and praising you for when he thought you did a good job.

During one of your water breaks, he asked you, “When did you leave him?”

He caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting him to converse except when he was giving you lessons but it was nice to talk to someone that wasn’t yelling at you. Brock was surprisingly gentle.

He would always ask and make sure it was alright before he put his hands on you to show you something and his voice was stern but he never yelled at you which was comforting.

“Oh, awhile ago but he always manages to find me wherever I go, hence these bruises.” You pointed to the bruise around your eye.

“And he doesn’t know where you are now?” He asked.

“No, not yet but he has connections and money so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he does. This time I thought I’d try a bigger city, maybe he wouldn’t look for me here in D.C. but I’m just tired of running and being afraid, Brock.”

The man of few words had even less to say than he did before. He was silent, the look in his eyes was sad but not sorry. He didn’t seem the type to feel sorry for people but it was almost like he was proud of you for escaping, for leaving when a lot of people would just stay and take it.

You didn’t want to be one of them.

“Why does he keep chasing you then? What does he want?” He asked.

“I took something. Something that meant more to him than I ever did.” You said.

Brock looked like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to hear what you were going to say, before you cracked a sly smile and said,

“I took the cat.” Followed by a light giggle.

A smile stretched across his lips bigger than you had ever seen him smile before and he started shaking his head.

“The cat? You took the fuckin’ cat?” He asked in a surprised tone.

“Hey, Peanut is MY cat, not his!” You said, sass dripping from your voice.

Taking a sip of water, he inched closer to you while you were seated at the edge of the boxing ring and he was standing. Bending at the waist, he rested his hands on his knees so his eyes were level with yours.

You swallowed hard and heat rose to your cheeks as he continued to stare at you before he said in a low voice.

“I just don’t wanna see you get hurt anymore and especially not because of a cat, sweetheart.” He said.

His words didn’t faze you on the outside but on the inside you felt hot, and butterflies appeared from the depths of your stomach but you kept yourself calm and collected before responding to him.

“Well that’s why I have you, right? To teach me, I mean.” You said softly and trying to make it sound like you DIDN’T find him attractive, but you were pretty sure you were failing miserably.

He broke the awkward silence between you.

“Ya ready to do it again tomorrow?” He asked. “I gotta get to work.”

“Oh yes, absolutely but I’d really like to pay you for your time…please?” You asked.

Brock pressed his lips together in a straight line and shook his head furiously. “No, no I don’t want your money, doll. I honestly think you’re a natural fighter and I wanna teach you everything I know so you can be prepared, alright?” His voice was rough and stern.

You nodded and nervously bit down on your lower lip before changing the subject.

“Was that your work uniform you walked in wearing earlier? Can you tell me what you do or if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me?” You joked.

Brock smiled again. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow, same time.” He handed you a roll of tape. “Ya think you can tape up by yourself tomorrow?”

“I can do it.” You said, confidently.

He extended his index finger to point at you. “Ya know I’m gonna check it, right?”

“I know, I said I can do it, Brock.” You said with a slightly annoyed voice.

You hated being doubted.

“Ok, ok I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He said, throwing up his hands with a smug smile on his face.

**********

6 Months Later

“Come on, you can do better than that Princess!” He said condescendingly through gnashed teeth as you fought to free yourself from the tight grip he had you in, pinned against the wall. “Ya want his hands around ya pretty little neck like this again?! DO YOU?!!!” He yelled. “Come on, y/n!!

Six months ago, he never would have dared to grab you like that or yell in your face but you were much stronger now than you were then.

His hot breath hit against your face, and you managed to turn to the side, your elbow hit his forearm and his hand bent up at the wrist and you were able to quickly elbow him three times in the face.

In the six months Brock had been training you, you’ve managed to graduate from the basic boxing moves to Krav Maga where he really taught you how to protect yourself and how to inflict pain on your enemy.

You were making quick work of the sparring partners he had brought in for you to practice against. They were becoming less and less challenging and there was only one person you wanted to spar against to make you feel like if your ex attacked you, you would have the confidence to fight him off and that was Brock.

He had awakened something inside of you that you wouldn’t have known was there if it wasn’t for him. When he first started training you and said you were a natural fighter, you wanted to prove him right, that you could fight and you had the strength to not be pushed around anymore.

And the only way you were going feel good enough about your new fighting skills is if you could defeat him one on one.

“You’re gettin’ good, sweetheart…real good. Those guys are a little too easy for you, aren’t they. What do ya wanna do about it?” He asked.

“I wanna spar with you, Rumlow.” You said, breathing heavily.

Brock scratched his chin and playfully chuckled at you while shaking his head. “No, you ain’t ready for me yet, doll…you’re just not. You’re good but you’re not THAT good.” He said smugly.

You narrowed your eyes at him and suddenly became very agitated. The man was so sure that you couldn’t beat him, that he wasn’t even willing to give you a chance to prove him wrong.

Working out very close to Brock for the past six months caused you to develop some deeper feelings toward him too. Yes, you were friends but also you felt maybe he had an attraction to you like you had toward him.

There were subtle hints like you’d catch him staring at you while you were taping up your hands or getting a drink of water. Sometimes he’d wink at you when you performed well on a lesson he was teaching you. And he was smiling just a little bit more than you were used to seeing.

Anytime he put his hands on you during a lesson, he would always ask if it was ok or if he hurt you in any way to just tell him.

He never wanted to push too hard in case you weren’t ready for that yet. Sometimes after your lessons, you would take him out for a beer and he’d ask you questions about you ex.

“You can always tell me to fuck off if I’m askin’ too much, ya know. I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to talk about. Please don’t feel like you have answer me if you don’t want to. I don’t even know him but I wanna kill him for hurting ya.” He had said.

You gave him a warm smile. “I don’t really know anyone else in this city except a couple of co-workers. I don’t have anyone else to talk to about it, Brock. No other friends so thank you for listening.” You had said.

You had a feeling that he wanted to kiss you but he didn’t. Did he stop himself because he thought of you as damaged? Did he think he was taking advantage of your teacher/student relationship?

Sometimes it was all you could think about after you went home for the day. You had dreams about his lips colliding with yours, teeth nipping at your chin and jawline, and his calloused hands exploring your body, touching you in a way that you’ve wanted him to from the first second you saw him.

But maybe he was a betting man.

“You don’t think I can win, do you.” You said.

He thought he could catch you off guard by trying to punch you in the face but you were fast and blocked him.

“I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya, Princess. You know he won’t either.” And he threw another punch at you with the other fist, which you also blocked.

“I wasn’t asking you to.” You said with a coy smile before elbowing him in the stomach. “How about a little wager?”

“What do ya have in mind, y/n?” He asked.

You pondered for a brief moment. “If I win, you have to tell me what you do for work that requires you to wear all that tactical clothing.”

“Ok. And if I win?” He asked.

You moved in close so the two of you were sharing the same air, you were both breathing heavily and as your breath hit the skin on his throat, goosebumps skirted across his skin and he gazed down at you with a primal look in his eyes.

Looking up at him through your long dark lashes, you answered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you, since you’re apparently too chicken to do it.”

Brock wasn’t afraid of anything so now he was determined to win. The devilish smile that stretched across his lips told you he definitely wasn’t going to hold back and he would do whatever he had to make sure he wins the bet.

He had taught you to be very aware of your surroundings, aware of things that could be problematic like tables and other furniture that could get in the way if you had to fight off your ex in your own home but right now you were surrounded by gym equipment, the boxing ring, and the walls.

“You got yourself a bet, sweetheart.” He said.

“Well ring the bell and let’s go, Rumlow.” You replied.

As soon as that bell rang, he came after you and throwing different combination punches and kicks at you. Since Brock was bigger than you, you thought it would be best to try and wear him down so he’d make a mistake. You would use his size and strength to your advantage, ducking and weaving as he threw punch after punch at you.

Throwing all of his weight behind those punches was making him tired as you danced around him, punching him in between the shoulder blades and kicking him behind the knees but he didn’t stay down.

The rage in his eyes that you were so used to seeing everyday had returned as he got his second wind. Keeping his punches close to his body this time, he tried to get you to bring your hands down by attacking your body but you pulled him close to knee him in the stomach. Using all of your strength to throw him to the mat, only to watch him roll and get right back up again.

He was fast, really fast, but you took notice of his fighting patterns so you could counter with combination moves of your own.

You had to get him to the mat, it was the only way you were going to beat him. Suddenly you felt a hand around your throat like he had done earlier but this time being in the corner of the ring.

There wasn’t as much leverage you could use against the ropes as you could against the wall to try and free yourself but he left himself open, his legs were too far apart so you were able to take a swipe at his front leg causing him to fall to the mat.

Kneeing him in the chin, he fell flat on his back and you saw your opportunity to wrap your legs around his neck, in the hopes that he would yield…which he did.

“Fuck, your legs are strong!” He exclaimed, breathing deeply and trying his best to catch his breath after you climbed off of him.

You were trying to catch your breath also as you wiped the sweat from your brow. “S-so I’ve b-been told.” You said panting and trying to smile at the same time.

Brock stood up carefully so he wouldn’t lose his balance. Maybe in that brief moment in between your legs, you cut off his air supply which made you chuckle a little.

You removed your sparring helmet and started to take the fingerless fighting gloves and tape off of your hands. He did the same before he spoke again.

“Well y/n…looks like you beat me, fair and square. I supposed I gotta tell you what I do for a living now, don’t I.” He said, looking defeated.

You threw the helmet and the tape onto the mat and slowly walked over to him, still trying to catch your breath. You stopped inches away from him, the heat radiating through his t-shirt as you rested your hand against his chest and the other touched his cheek.

“Maybe another time.” You said, pushing yourself up onto your toes and gently pressing your lips to his.

Feeling how tense his body was, you pulled away and apologized only to have him pull you flush to his chest and his lips mash against yours as if he was trying to flatten and destroy your mouth.

His stubble scratched your cheeks but his lips felt so good against yours, his tongue slipped into your mouth causing you to softly moan and gasp into his mouth.

Winding strands of your hair in his fingers, he gently bit down on your bottom lip and gripped your head firmly as if to keep you from escaping.

But you let your guard down and he knew it so he swept your feet out from under you causing you to fall backwards onto the mat.

“Hey! You yielded, Rumlow!” You yelled, looking up at him. A rare genuine smile stretched across his lips. “Careful, you pull shit like that and you’re gonna end up with your head between my legs again.”

He helped you to your feet, pulling you in close and his voice sounded like a hiss from a dying fire as he whispered in your ear.

“The next time my head is between your legs, sweetheart, it will be because you want me there, trust me.” He said with a wicked smile.

His words, the gruff tone of his voice, the look he gave you…all sent delightful sparks down your spine and a guttural moan escaped your lips as he attacked your lips once again.

Caught in his firm embrace, his lips traced up and down the side of your neck before his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Brock was just about to pull it over your head when you both heard knocking on the boxing ring doors and voices.

“Time’s up, Rumlow!!!” They said.

You broke apart quickly and laughed a little with each other before he yelled to the people outside the doors.

“Alright!! Just gimme a second!” He bellowed.

It’s a good thing your face was already flushed from the workout so the people that walked into the room couldn’t tell that you were blushing. Biting down on your thumb, you waited for him to come back into the ring.

“I, uh, guess we’re done for the day.” You said with a warm smile.

He replied. “Let’s go, doll. I’ll take ya home.”

After many long kisses outside your apartment door, and even though you didn’t want to, you finally said goodbye to Brock. Your heavy make out session at the gym made you realize that before having him in between your legs again, maybe a date first would be a better decision.

Smiling from ear to ear as you closed the door, you placed your keys on the table and put down your gym bag.

And that’s when he made his presence known. There was a touch of acid in that cold, hard voice of his when he spoke.

“Hello sweetheart. You’re getting better and better at covering your tracks. I’m impressed. Miss me?”

He had found you…again. And by the tone of his voice, he sounded like he wasn’t letting you get away this time.

Others that may enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @qu1etwolf @redstarsandnightmares @gijos

#brock rumlow #brock rumlow x reader #brock rumlow x female reader #frank grillo #ericca’s 400 follower celebration #love you lily #ericca answers

[skyland2703]

~✨Romance in the Chemistry Lab✨~

Prompts, simply because *I* have apparently had enough lab experience in my life as a chemistry student to make a cute-ish storyline!

The sodium hydroxide at character A's bench is almost depleted, and so, they're at character B's bench to ask for some for the fluoroscein test. This starts happening every time, and character A doesn't ask the lab staff to fill it, instead they keep on circling back to character B to ask for the sodium hydroxide— because they like talking to character B and this is now a good excuse.

Character A's lab partner, Character B, is the most annoying creature on the planet. Messes up every experiment, frequently sets the test tubes on fire, keeps breaking the glass apparatus, spills silicon oil in the locker every three days, etc; character A is fed up, but they know that character B is good of heart, only a little clumsy, so they put up with them, and help them through all the mishaps.

Alternatively, Character A's lab partner is an absolute asshole and makes their life a living hell. Will leave all the work for character A to do, will use their equipment without permission, and lose/break it, always busy chatting with friends and doesn't perform experiments and then blames character A for the failure. Character A decides it is enough, and one fine morning, ends up taking all their stuff to their friend, Character B's lab station, and performs all experiments with them.

Character A and Character B are lab partners, (or maybe, just have lab stations near each other's) but hit it off so well, that they are completely oblivious to the entire lab, and work together in tandem, no issues faced either way, helping each other with the weighing, the pouring, the drying, the tests, making reagents, and everything together. They even sing songs in unison while taking readings and doing titrations— much to the annoyance of the teachers.

Character A getting upset/messing up the experiment when Character B doesn’t show up in the lab

Lab at 7:30. Character A is super sleepy during instructions, and doesn't hear a word, Character B meanwhile writes down all the instructions, and once the actual practical starts, hands Character A all the instructions, and tells them, "alright, this is your headache now. I'll be sleeping in the corner if you need me"

Character A rushed to the lab early morning without any breakfast, and four hours later, they look almost dead. Character B realises this, and sneaks them out of the lab for a little snack. The teachers would not appreciate anyone fainting inside the lab.

Writing the practical report file late at night, on videocall, discussing the week's experiment, and cribbing about how much work they have to do.

Writing the practical report file IN the lab, sitting on the floor, in one of the corners, when they're tired of doing the experiment, because the lab is five hours long, and the professors will not allow stools or chairs. Because they don't. "You're not a physics student!"

Writing little love notes on paper and leaving them pressed under vials of sulphuric acid and sodium hydroxide and nitric acid.

Character A and Character B find themselves stuck in a long queue in line for filtration of a precipitate, and end up talking to each other, realising they have much more in common with each other than just despising the heat in chemistry practicals.

Character A only ever sees Character B in the Lab. Hair bunned up/tied back, always under the safety glasses and lab coats; one day, though, Character A gets late in leaving the lab, and finds themselves leaving along with Character B, who, outside the lab, not only looks completely different, but is an absolutely different personality.

Getting extra chemicals for each other “just cuz” so they don’t have to run back and forth.

Alternatively, dividing the lab work between them so as to get it done faster.

They start sending each other chemistry jokes/reels and things, and that blossoms into late night talks and eventually… falling for each other… and then one of their friends goes “OH so you guys got your chemistry because OF chemistry?!” And nobody laughs at that joke.

Lab practical exams— Characters A and B Hope they get the same practical, so they can cheat on it, by performing all experiments together. BONUS: if they divide the work once again, and A makes all the graphs and takes readings while B carries out the experiment—

I’ll probably come back with more later on, but for now, College Chemistry AUs? Prompts welcome~

#imagine your otp #otp #otp prompts #otp writing #writeblr #writing prompts #prompt list #college prompts #GIMME PROMPTS #I’ll make into AU #and pretty please give me pairs I know something about 😭 #thank you

[writingduhh]

Drunk Ted Nivison (HC)

This is my first HC without a real ‘prompt’ so hopefully I got this right 😩

Pairing: Ted & Y/n

▷ Ted's cheeks flush a rosy hue when he's had a few drinks, making him even more adorable. You can't resist pinching his cheeks and teasing him about how cute he looks.

▷ When Ted gets a bit tipsy, he becomes even more affectionate than usual. He constantly pulls you into warm, tight hugs throughout the night whenever his arm isn’t already wrapped around your waist. He showers you with kisses, giggling all the while.

▷ Ted gets a little clumsy when he's drunk, which leads to adorable mishaps like spilling drinks or tripping over his own feet. You find his clumsiness rather endearing, always ready to help him.

“Watch out for that last step.” You advise, pointing out the hidden decline to your drunken boyfriend.

“Thank you babe but I got it.” He grins. As if on cue his foot met the corner of the step, causing him to fall the small distance to the ground.

“Shit.” He mutters.

“Ted! Are you ok?” You exclaim, rushing to his side in order to help him up.

“Yeah I’m ok. Just a bit dizzy. Hold on to me?” He softly asks, slinging his arm around your waist.

“Of course.”

(Another little after party scenario I thought of for this HC just bear with me plz I know someone out there will like it 😩)

“Ok, arms up.” You kindly command, looking down at where Ted sat on your shared bed. He gazed lovingly back at you, making your heart face.

“Yes ma’am/sir.” He agrees, standing up from the bed with his arms held above his head.

“No, Teddy, I can’t reach you up there.” You giggle, holding his pj shirt in your hands.

“Oh yeah, duh.” He grumbles, sitting back down with his arms up. Gently you pulled his shirt over his head before replacing it with a new one.

“Ok, now let’s get you into some pants.” You say, holding out his pj pants ready for him to step inside.

Smiling he rested his hands on your wrists, lifting his leg up into the pants. To your dismay he lost his balance falling flat onto his butt, pulling you down onto him. You both erupted in laughter, tears forming in your eyes.

▷ He's adamant about snapping spontaneous, candid photos together to seize the moment, resulting in a delightful collection of endearing and comical snapshots.

▷ He's always just a few drinks away from treating the entire party to a show of his karaoke skills. To the amusement of everyone in attendance, they loudly cheer him on.

“Guys look, a karaoke machine!” Ted exclaims to your group of friends.

“You should totally go up there!” One of your friends encouraged. Their response was followed up by agreement from the rest of the group, including yourself.

Happily he made his way up to the machine, Cueing up a familiar song. It was your favorite song.

“This song goes out to my beautiful partner, y/n.” He smirks, raising the microphone in your direction.

Your friends basically began screaming as he started his song, starting to gather an audience. By the end of the song the entire bar was watching, everyone cheering as he made his way back to the table where everyone praised him.

“That was amazing! I think you’re the new singer of my favorite song.” You smirk.

▷ He becomes a big softy, to you at least. Rather than his usual goofy antics, he's more focused on making sure you feel loved and safe. He'll often whisper sweet nothings into your ear, or making sure you’re feeling comfortable with the party around you.

▷ He becomes the ultimate dance partner, pulling his significant other onto the dance floor (or living room) for impromptu, goofy dance sessions. You share fits of laughter as you dance the night away.

“Ted, No! I cant dance!” You exclaim, dragging your feet as he pulled you onto the half filled dance floor.

“Cmon y/n, it’ll be fun. Here, I’ll help you.” He grins, holding out both his hands for you to grab.

Together you both began to dance and let loose, letting the music take control of your bodies. You and Ted’s enthusiastic dancing seemed to wear off as the once half filled dance floor was now packed with party goers.

▷ Ted becomes a chatterbox when he's tipsy, his words flowing freely as he becomes the life of the conversation. His enthusiasm is infectious, and he effortlessly keeps everyone engaged with his animated storytelling, quick wit, and a touch of humor. His tipsy chatter adds an undeniable charm to the gathering.

▷ He's a firm believer in late-night adventures, so he takes this opportunity to suggest going for a moonlit walk, stargazing, or even a spontaneous road trip (he’s not driving of course), wanting to create even more cherished memories together.

▷ He's also the type to surprise you with late-night snacks or their favorite comfort food, ensuring they're well taken care of and comfortable.

▷ Despite the alcohol, Ted remains incredibly considerate and respectful of your boundaries, always checking in to make sure you’re comfortable with everything that's happening.

▷ After the party/gathering he becomes the ultimate cuddle bug. Ted insists on cuddling up with you on the couch or in bed. He becomes the designated "pillow talk" expert, sharing his deepest thoughts and feelings with you, having heart-to-heart conversations that strengthen your emotional connection. He absolutely refuses to fall asleep unless you’re in his arms or at the very least beside him.

Opening the door of your apartment you let out a sigh of relief as you finally took of your cute but uncomfortable shoes. As you did this you felt arms sneak around your torso, making you smile.

“Y/n can we go cuddle and watch a movie?” He asks, placing a kiss on the back of your neck.

“Of course we can.”

Suddenly you were lifted off the ground, making you squeal. “Hey! Be careful please.”

“I’ll be careful, I’d never drop you.” He assures, holding you close until he collapsed onto the couch.

The next morning, he'll wake up with a hangover but a heart full of love and gratitude for you, thanking you for putting up with his drunken sweetness.

The sound of Ted groaning caught your attention from where you stood in the kitchen. Looking up you saw him standing in the doorway of your room, his large stature filling up most of the door frame.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," you greet with a grin, carefully placing the fresh breakfast you've prepared on the table. You eagerly open your arms as you spot him making his way toward you.

“Morning.” His voice was muffled as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms slung over you.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Hungover. I don’t even remember changing into my pjs.” He admits, letting out a small laugh.

“I helped you get into them last night, I hope that’s ok.”

“Of course. It’s not something you haven’t seen already.” He smirked, placing a kiss on your cheek.

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #ted nivison #ted nivison x reader #jschlatt x reader #ted nivison headcanons #ted nivison imagine #hc #ted nivison fanfiction #ted nivison fanfic #ted nivison fluff #ted nivison x you #ted nivison hcs #ted nivison x y/n #ted nivison fic #ted nivison moodboard #Jschlatt #chuckle sandwich x reader #imagine #ted x reader #youtube

[ominoose]

𝐀 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

Pairing: Basil Stitt x Afab!Reader Prompt: Free-Use & Blood Summary: While baking a pumpkin pie for your boyfriend you nick yourself with the knife, sending him into a frenzy. Warnings: Smut, free-use kink, blood kink. WC: 1.3K

Kinktober Masterlist

Baking was a usual pastime for you. Having the kitchen flooded from the warmth of the oven, spices or vanilla filling the room with the radio faintly humming a tune in the corner never failed to evoke a feeling of comfort in your chest. It was like being wrapped in a warm hug of your own design, with the bonus of a home cooked meal or baked treat waiting for you at the end.

Your time spent in the kitchen meant you were no rookie, the pumpkin pie recipe you’d perfected would be a cinch and a sure way to put a smile on the face of your partner, Basil, during the spooky season. However, no matter how long you spent in a kitchen, accidents could always happen.

The smudge of butter on your palm made the knife slip from your grip, falling in front of you onto the floor with a clatter. You yelped in surprise, not usually so clumsy, and bent to pick it up. A stinging pain on your thigh stole your attention as you glanced down, noticing the small pearls of blood running down your leg. The knife must have nicked you as it fell, yet another mess to clean up. 

As you set about washing your hands, cleaning the knife and raising a wet cloth to your cut, a warm hand grabbed your wrist and stopped you. Before you could even ask Basil what was wrong he was already on his knees next to you, his tongue lapping at the wound, saliva diluting the blood and smearing your skin with it. 

The cut stung slightly as he licked at it, pulling a soft whimper from you. Basil looked up with a pout, disheveled curls bouncing across his forehead. “Sorry baby, just can’t help myself.” He mumbled,  nuzzled further into your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh gently. 

Your ran a hand through his brown curls, the pads of your fingers massaging his scalp.

“It’s ok honey, just don’t complain if flour gets in your hair.” You tease before turning your attention back to the kitchen counter, rolling the dough onto the floured surface and kneading it, humming in time with the radio and paying no mind to Basil. It wasn’t anything but ordinary for him to be grabbing onto you in some way. He had a penchant for being clingy, loving the taste and feel of you.

While you were losing yourself back into the comfort of baking, Basil had slowly nudged his head between your legs, breathing heavily into the fabric of your underwear. His nose nestled in closer before his tongue darted out from between his lips, flickering over the cloth. The sound of you humming gently to the music while making a sweet pumpkin pie just for him, coupled with the faint metallic taste of the blood lingering on his tongue from the wound you let him clean up, it warmed his heart and his cock.

It was his erection that fully caught your attention as he began grinding slowly against your leg, moaning into your clothed crotch as his pace increased. He always had a habit of working himself up into a panting, horny mess over the most mundane things, which usually led to you being bent over the nearest surface mid activity and being fucked relentlessly. Basil's easily triggered sex drive was how your free-use kink came into being, both of you realising it was easier for Basil to skip asking and foreplay and just fuck you wherever he found you when he was horny. Whether that be while you’re casually watching tv, reading a book or just as you get into bed.

When it was a mindless task like watching tv, you had no problem laying on the couch while he fucked you from behind. It wasn’t hard to keep your attention mostly on the show until his hand found your clit, the friction demanding you to cum alongside him. Within the context of cooking a pumpkin pie however, it became a tad more difficult to remain focused, especially when he was already lapping at your cunt.

Your panties had been moved aside as his tongue broadly licked strips up and down your folds, sucking and nibbling shamelessly at your clit. Lining the pie tin with the dough was becoming difficult as your mind was tugged to the face stuffed between your legs, eating you like you were the sweetest treat in the kitchen as wet sounds mixed with the ambience of your kitchen.

Basil only became more intense as you continued on your baking. His tongue finally delved inside of your wet heat, a muffled moan barely escaping him at the taste as his hips snapped against your leg, dragging his clothed erection up and down, the pleasure making him whimper into you. 

As you scraped the last of the pie filling into the tin, the last task was to bake. Bending over to open the oven was the biggest challenge yet, with the vice like grip Basil's hands had over your ass and his thighs squeezing around your leg. Barely you managed it, although the slight feeling of your leg angling against his crotch drove him wild. 

You’d barely placed the pie in the oven when he snapped. His grip tightened on your ass, leaving crescent marks into the plush skin while his face drilled into your pussy, panting into it, slurping and sucking the sensitive flesh. Your knees almost buckled, having to lean one hand on the counter and threading one hand into his hair to keep yourself standing, although Basil simply took that as encouragement as you began panting and moaning above him.

His hips stuttering against your leg was the telltale sign that he was getting close, the second being the way he nearly cried into you, babbling incoherently about how much he loved you, how beautiful you were.

“All mine, love you so much, so amazing, most beautiful person in the world, love you, so amazing, all mine, mine, mine…” 

The constant switching between being tongue fucked and having your clit stimulated so passionately pushed you over the edge. Your thighs locked around his head, leaning into his face and all but straddling him midair as you moaned his name, tugging his hair like a leash to drown him further in you. 

He comes right after you, nearly short circuiting at the feeling of your soft thighs squishing around him with your hand pulling his hair. Basil’s loud moans are muffled as he loses all rhythm and shamelessly humps your leg as fast as he can. He keeps going even after the wet patch blooms across the crotch of his jeans, over stimulating himself before you gently tug him back. 

His entire mouth and chin are wet, mixed with your slick and his saliva. Panting still, Basil looks up at you with half lidded, drowsy eyes, a complete mess at your disposal. After composing yourself, you take a kitchen towel and tenderly wipe his face, running a finger over his jaw. 

“Feeling better honey?”

Basil could only nod, swallowing as his breathing evens out. He carefully brings your panties back up, sitting them snug over your hips before he stands up and hugs you. Holding you was his favourite form of after care, maybe even his favourite pastime too. To have you in his arms, with the knowledge that he was the only person to do this to you, knowing you’d happily let him do it all to you, it made him happy beyond compare.

With a gentle smile, you lean back into his arms, ruffling his hair fondly.

“The pie should be ready in a half hour.”

He hummed.

“Bet it won’t taste as good as you.”

#basil stitt x reader #oscar isaac #lightningface #omiwrites

[speakeasyaoi]

Mitzi May x F!Reader

> Requested by anonymous | Mitzi makes me question my sexuality sometimes I won't even lie- I love her. She needs more recognition. She's wife material

PROMPT: N/A

After the fallout of her marriage with Atlas, Mitzi is a little desperate to find some way to fill that hole he left in her heart. Though she tries to cling on to the fleeting memory of her ex-husband to the best of her ability, finding someone new to take his place is a necessity for her to eventually move on, a necessity which you end up fulfilling. By the time you meet her, and even when you start a relationship with her, she's still rather attached to her previous marriage, in both big and small ways, but over time she'll gradually grow more open to her new relationship and start to move on from her previous ones.

And on that note, Atlas's recent passing makes her take steps in her relationship with you much slower than she would in other situations. As much as she yearns to be close to you, it's a long while before she's able to shake off all that lingering guilt that comes with finding someone new in her life.

Mitzi feels the need to be a bit secretive about the fact that she's dating another woman--her business is already in shambles as it is, rumors and gossip about Lackadaisy's newfound owner being a sapphist* will only make her financial situation worse--but despite that, she's more than willing to be with you out in public in ways that aren't as blatantly romantic. She keeps you on her arm like a piece of eye candy, taking you out to the shops or to brunch or just walking around St. Louis and seeing the sights. Once she's warmed up to you, you're practically inseparable.

She loves dancing with you. She's more keen on more tender dances, like slow dancing, but in all honesty she's more interested in the intimacy of it then she is in following any silly rules or steps. She thinks it's rather endearing if you're a bit clumsy or not well versed in dancing, and guides you through it to the best of her ability.

In private, she's significantly more flirty and romantic than she'd be in the presence of a crowd, practically smothering you. She finds it entertaining to come up behind you and wrap her arms around your waist, kissing along your neck without warning to watch your reaction and leaving a trail of lipstick stains along your skin.

Despite it being a rather unintelligent business decision, she likes to treat you to the Lackadaisy bar on the house. ("On the house" being on Wick's tab. Not that he'd notice.) Her ideal date is something along the lines of spending a night alone with you and a bottle of fine alcohol, and once that's said and done, you're probably going to have to nurse her through her hangover in the coming morning. ...On the bright side, it only serves to make her even more infatuated with you.

After a long, tiring day at work, Mitzi likes to unwind by setting you down in her lap as she brushes and/or braids out your hair. It's a quiet ritual for her to just take a bit of a break every once in a while. She also enjoys doing your makeup for you and dolling you up in the morning.

Mitzi is a very praising partner by nature, and while words aren't her main love language, she's more than generous when it comes to petnames and compliments. She'll frequently call you 'sweetheart', 'dear', or 'honey', likely paired with a chaste kiss on your cheek or jawline.

She cherishes every little gift and bit of your attention you give her, and holds it very close to her heart. If you give her a peice of jewelery, she wears it practically daily (think of Atlas's pearl necklace), and if it's something else, say a practical item or article of clothing, she makes sure to use it at every opportunity she can. While she loves to be spoiled, smaller, more personal things warm her heart.

Other notes: *Sapphist in this case is historically accurate terminology for a women who likes other women- sapphic, queer or bisexual would be a more modern term of the same meaning. Or maybe it isn't that historically accurate. I don't really know

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy comic #Lackadaisy mitzi #mitzi may #mitzi may x reader #mitzi may x f reader #mitzi may x f!reader #lackadaisy x f reader #lackadaisy x f!reader

[finniestoncrane]

Number One Fan

Young Justice!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1.2k commission: little ex-popstarlet eddie has a horrible time when his current partner finds his stash of memorabilia 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst, fluff

On your hands and knees, you shuffled over the floor, searching for the fallen box of screws and praying they hadn’t all spilled everywhere. You were in such a rush to find them and get them back to Eddie that you’d fumbled and dropped them, your attempt to get back beside him as quickly as possible foiled by your own clumsiness. Luckily, you could see the bright yellow plastic of the box, the lid pressed on tight. The corner of it peeked out from behind a large cardboard box. In a bid to make it easier for yourself to squeeze under the bed to reach it, you pulled it out, planning on setting it to the side until the marker scrawled on the side drew your attention.

Recording Stuff

Vague enough to intrigue you, but you felt a hint of recognition before you gasped out loud at the memory that suddenly popped into your brain.

“Oh! His popstar things!”

So briefly, Eddie had mentioned that in his past, he had attempted to make his name as a popstar. Though, in true Edward Nygma fashion, he had utilised his brief fame and slight power to enact some typical, on-brand criminal stunts. Singing which lead to riddles which he had hoped would lead to more power and fame. Before he was caught by Batman and served a prison sentence and a broken nose. He’d only offered that much information. Nothing about the kind of music he sang, nothing about his popularity, or any fans. Nothing, even, about whether he was any good. You’d been desperate to know at the time, pestering him until it was very apparent that he was uncomfortable, at which point you’d let up, forgetting about it over time.

But now, the deep desire to find out more had been rekindled. Staring you in the face, screaming at you to ask for more, to find out everything. Eddie didn’t really keep any secrets from you, you knew everything about him, except for this. So, you opened the box.

Inside, there were countless CD cases, all of them with handwritten notes on them.

Audition Tape One

Audition Tape Two

Dance Practice

Choreography For Audition

First Concert

Band Practice

Album Recording Session

And so much more, all of them more intriguing than the last one you flicked over. Mixed in with them were folded posters, ones with glossy and heavily photoshopped images of him, with less sideburns, more hair, and his glasses were a lot simpler. No shade of green in sight, which you giggled at. You wondered if that was something he adopted after, or if the record label had decided it wasn’t quite a marketable colour scheme at the time.

You picked out some smaller, A5 card sheets with his picture and signature on them, all handwritten with markers. Obviously for sale at the end of a set or a concert. There were quite a few of them, likely unsold. It hurt your heart to see the memories like this, to know it hadn’t worked out the way he wanted. You held one of them close to your heart, kissing his sweet little face in the centre of the card. It felt like you were a teenager again, fawning over some ridiculous popstar.

Unable to contain the curiosity, you picked one of the CDs at random, popping it into the PC at the end of the bed. When the media player had finally opened, you were provided a sweet, visual treat. Thinking it would just be recordings of his songs, instead you were watching footage of Eddie, so young, standing in front of the camera and awkwardly speaking. He mumbled something about dance practice, and then began to move. He was stiff, uncomfortable. But there was evidence of some talent there. He just needed to loosen up a bit. You wanted to reach into the screen and grab him, shake him, kiss him. Fill him with the confidence he so badly needed.

When the rehearsal had finished playing, you put in another CD. You couldn’t help yourself. This was like a treasure trove, and you needed to see everything that was on each disc. And this one was even better than the last, as you could see Eddie, nervously shuffling in front of the camera, his hands in a white knuckle grip around the microphone as he sang shakily. His voice was so sweet, but the trembling made him shift tone and pitch inconsistently. It was too much to watch him in so much discomfort, despite how much you enjoyed hearing his sweet singing, so you changed the disc again.

This time, Eddie was sitting in front of the camera in a different room. He spoke sincerely to it, making a promise to himself, to everyone.

“I’m going to be famous. I’m going to be huge. I can get over the nerves, I can show everyone how good I am. I’m going to be known all over the world someday.”

The sentiments were repeated in differing words as he continued, and you could feel the sting of tears behind your eyes. He was so heartfelt, so desperate. And you felt simultaneously hopeful and helpless. You could see how much that sweet, young Eddie wanted this dream. But you knew exactly how it ended for him.

With tears streaming down your cheeks, you turned from the screen, wiping your face on your sleeves and returning to the box. Surprised you hadn’t noticed it first, your eyes fell on a clear case covered in glittery stickers, all shaped like question marks and stars, a couple of love hearts in the corner. Within it you could see a golden coloured disc. Turning it over, you found the track listings scribbled on the back, a small sticky note inside of the case which you couldn’t quite read until you opened it. Popping the disc in, you read the note as it loaded.

“For my future wife. I want you to know who I am, completely. These songs were for you, even if I didn’t know it yet.”

He was such a hopeless romantic. You sighed as you held it close to your chest. He’d likely forgotten that he’d even written the note, but you hoped if he remembered that he’d give the disc to you.

And when the music started playing, you couldn’t help but lose yourself completely. Enamoured by his sweet voice, the way he carried the melody so professionally and with such heart. It was impossible not to love. Your body started shifting on the spot, wiggling to the rhythm as you sat amongst his things, looking through more of the posters. You forgot what you had even come in there for. Instead, you were surrounded by Eddie, filled with more admiration and love for him than you thought was even possible.

The tunes were so catchy, so fun. It was a completely new side to him, exciting to discover. Because you loved Eddie, you adored him and appreciated him. But now, it was safe to say you were his number one fan. So there you sat, completely immune to the outside world. Focused only on the sweet songs and the way they made you want to dance, made you giggle, singing along to each of the choruses.

Worried at the length of time you had been gone for, only noticing when he was finally not distracted by his project, Eddie got up from the stool at his workbench and went in search of you. Leaving the soundproofed space in the basement, he could hear some music. A familiar tune that he couldn’t quite place. Until it hit him. Like a brick wall slamming into his body. He felt winded, like he might collapse any moment. That was his music, blaring throughout the house. Following the sound, he made his way to his bedroom, where he had forgotten that the discs were stored until this moment.

Edward stood in the doorway, his cheeks instantly bright red and flushed with embarrassment. Luckily, you hadn’t noticed him yet, still completely entranced by the music that you had blaring from his PC. In an unusual move of bravery, he stomped into the room and paused the track that was playing, surprising you, causing you to jump where you sat on the floor, surrounded by the memorabilia.

“Eddie!”

“How could you?”

You could see the look of pain in his face, how mortified and betrayed he felt in that moment. It made your blood run cold. Scrambling to apologise, you attempted to speak, but only stuttered over the first words, interrupted by Eddie as he spoke.

“I’m so… hurt. Why would you do this? I wasn’t ready! I wasn’t… I didn’t want to share this yet! I didn’t want to think about it! It hurts… it still hurts a lot, too much to…”

Finally able to squeeze out something more than a mewling mumble, you stood up, rushing to him and grabbing his hand to keep him close, long enough to listen to your apology. With similarly reddened cheeks and eyes that were wet with the threat of tears, you began to apologise profusely to him.

“Eddie, I am so sorry. I really am! I got… distracted. I was looking for the screws, they fell under the bed, I found the box and I just… couldn’t help myself. And I know I shouldn’t have looked, I do. It was a complete betrayal of your trust. I know that. But… but…”

He raised an eyebrow as he looked at you, his own eyes sparkling with tears that he tried to force back down as he cleared his throat.

“But what?”

“Eddie… you’re so good. This is amazing! I feel giddy, like some pre-teen girl finding a new boy to obsess over. I want to plaster these silly little photos all over my walls. I love you, so much. And this has just… this is the icing on the cake, truly.

“R-really?”

Taking his face in your hands, you let your thumb stroke his cheeks, softening his sideburns and pushing his hair back with your fingers as you looked deep into his eyes, desperately trying to convey the sincerity and honesty with which you were speaking.

“Eddie, my sweet Eddie. Those people might not have seen it in you, the talent and love for it. They might not have appreciated you. But I do. I think you’re a star. You’re my popstar, my celebrity crush.”

He smiled, his cheeks flushing a deeper red. He was struggling with the revelation of his past. Sooner than he had intended to reveal it all to you. And he had planned to tell you everything someday. But it was still raw, still painful for him to think about. Yet there was a deeper feeling, one of joy. Happiness. At finally being appreciated. That there was at least one person in the world who liked his work, and who loved him all the more for his past. But you had broken his confidence, and that hurt him more than he imagined it would. Tears stung at his eyes as he frowned at you.

Tearing up yourself, you looked to the doorway. You hadn’t seen Eddie this upset before, and it was painful to witness. As the first of your tears fell, you turned, making your escape from the bedroom to go take some time alone, to work on your apology. But Eddie was quick to grab you, pulling you back and into his arms.

“It’s ok. I… I forgive you. It’s just a lot for me to take in.”

“Eddie, I swear I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know.”

He let one hand drift from your body, pressing play on the media player, letting the soft music start up again and fill the room. With both of his hands back on your body, he held you to his chest and softly swayed. It hurt, still. But he was glad to finally have someone to share his music with.

#finnie writes #riddler #the riddler #riddler imagine #the riddler imagine #the riddler fanfic #riddler fanfic #riddler x reader #riddler x you #young justice riddler #young justice!riddler

[natasha-in-space]

So ive a small request (im the same anon who sent you the prompt of yoosung being in a relationship with a big man) can you please write a one shot about the dinner his family (yoosung's)has arranged for him and his new boyfriend.

Also ngl i keep on imagining the mc taking a selfie with yoosung and his family and its giving Gulliver in Liliput (cuz MC is already very tall and big and yoosung's family are all pretty short people)

Link to the first post!

"You don't have to be so shy, you know. They prepared this dinner for us. I know it's a bit nerve-wracking, but they mean well."

Yoosung was able to sense that MC was feeling rather anxious. It was clear as day to him, really. From his tensed up shoulders to the way that his eyes wouldn't leave his plate, unless he was being spoken to directly. And, Yoosung could relate. Hell, if it was another way around, he knew for sure that he would be a sweating nervous wreck himself. It's always nerve-racking to meet your partner's family. Especially so when your situation is not a conventional one.

But, that's the reason why they were together.

Yoosung was fully aware that his family would need some time to come to terms with and accept his new relationship with MC. Especially his parents and older relatives. His mother didn't have to throw a giant fit for him to understand that she had some very deep rooted reservations that she was simply trying to tiptoe around, but ultimately failing. It was an awkward learning process for them all. To be fair, throughout it all, his sister was a great help in particular. Although she may tease him occasionally, he knew that she was a significant factor in his parents ultimately accepting his love for MC.

Maybe she was the one who suggested arranging this family dinner for them in the first place. He wouldn't rule out the possibility of that happening. Regardless, he was grateful for her help.

MC has shifted slightly in his seat, shooting him an anxious but deeply thankful look. He sighed. "I know... I just don't want to mess this up."

"-You won't." Yoosung reassured him, reaching under the table to take hold of MC's hand and squeeze it confidently. He smiled, hoping to relieve some of his boyfriend's anxiety. He may have been broad and bulky in body, but his heart was as soft as you could get. Another lovely thing about MC that he couldn't wait for his family to see. "You're doing great. Besides, I'm right here. We got this. Together."

He was relieved to see the corners of MC's mouth twitch into a small smile, and he leaned in for a quick nuzzle that left his heart racing. Yoosung knew he was too shy to get too affectionate with each other in front of everybody like that, and he didn't mind it all that much. MC showcased his love and appreciation for him in small but meaningful ways that he has come to learn by heart now.

Despite the awkwardness the rest of the dinner was full of, it was still very sweet. His parents were clumsy, clearly very anxious about not making the wrong impression, and kind of overbearing. But, they were trying. And, it was obvious that they were eager to start things off rightfully this time around. Despite their occasional bizarre but amusing remarks. The good intention was present, and it was uplifting to witness. In a way, his parents were just as anxious as MC was. Something that Yoosung couldn't help but point out with a slight good-natured giggle.

This time around, his mother made sure to get to know MC as a person by asking questions about his life, family, hobbies, and even his favorite food. Yoosung could predict that that one was meant to be a surprise: a tasty gift from her in the future.

His mom wasn't very subtle, though.

Ut was while everyone was just getting ready to clean up the table, when MC suddenly perked up and spoke louder than usual.

"Oh, we should take a picture!"

A quick pause filled the dining room, as everyone was clearly quite surprised to hear a usually very soft-spoken and reserved MC exclaim something with such a booming frequency, even Yoosung included. As MC cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck in a sheepish manner, his face flushed bright red shortly after. "I mean... before we all clean up. If everyone agrees, of course."

His usual softer tone was back now, much to everyone's amusement.

Yoosung and his sister couldn't help but laugh at that, as she found it just as amusing and endearing as Yoosung did. Despite this, he wished to aid his partner before he would become a big embarrassed tomato. He got up from the table, clasping his hands together to redirect everyone's attention onto himself, a tactic he would use often whenever MC got a bit overwhelmed. "I bet my mom would have dragged us all for a family photo eventually, anyways! I'll go get the camera."

Of course, due to his mother's meticulousness in ensuring everyone looked good at the photo, they all had to spend an additional thirty minutes being manipulated by the older woman as if she were a professional director. Yoosung is familiar with the occurrence, but it is definitely more amusing when MC encounters his mom's quirks for the first time. Funnily enough, his mom has barely made any criticisms against him, mostly making Yoosung be the one to change his position a dozen times over.

It looks like MC has gotten into her good graces after all.

Once the long-suffered perfect picture was completed, everyone was left laughing good-naturedly over MC's broad build ending up above every family member at the table, including Yoosung's father. His mom even joked about inviting MC over to fix their broken closet for them, since his dad couldn't reach the top of it without a stool. Needless to say, his dad wasn't impressed, much to everyone's amusement.

Relaxing and enjoying the family banter without any reservations was a pleasant experience for them both. A positive beginning to a new life of experiences for all of them.

#mystic messenger #mysmes #mysme #mm #yoosung kim #kim yoosung #yoosung x mc #i'm not too proud of this one bc writing domestic little pieces is not my strong suit but i hope it's ok!!

[dutybcrne]

@strdstd said :🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch?, 😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks?, 🏩 What was my muse’s first time like?, 🌼 Would my muse prefer a big wedding or a small wedding? {For Halfdan- 👀} 『Meme || Accepting』

🍬 Is my muse a sub, dom, or switch?

Bit of a switch but leaning more sub. Mans for the most part is a pretty subby service top ( though this is absolutely flexible ), whose sole aim would be pleasing his partner and happily following any and all orders to the letter. He absolutely more than willing to be the one to take the reigns and call the shots if his partner wants the control taken out of their hands, but at his core, he is at their every whim, and happily so.

😉 What are my muse’s fetishes/kinks?

-Praise. Praising him is a big one. He’s already a sucker for praise outside of intimacy, but in the moment, he will straight up MELT. That's all he wants, to know that he's doing a good job for his partner. And for a fact, he will spill plenty of praises for his own partner as well.

-Likes biting and scratching, though is more of a biter himself. Likes to bite his partner’s thighs, shoulders and chest the most. Would be their neck, but he’s terrified of hurting them, esp post-ascension. Being marked up by his partner like that is something he adores. Makes him feel owned by them in one more, very much tangible way. He especially likes it when he can still feel the dull sensation thrumming as he goes about his day to day.

-Is into body worship, loves in particular to kiss his lover's scars and especially any other things they might have mentioned they think imperfect of themselves. Definitely pays special attention to those places, and would strive to show how much he loves that part of them too.

-Likes the idea of hair pulling, esp if his partner does so to move him how they like or to grab his attention. Likewise likes the idea of doing it to his partner if they like it, to prompt a kiss or bare their neck for him, always being very gentle about it unless they voice otherwise.

-For a Fact, has a HUGE thing for initiating things while in uniform. Both bc he loves how it looks and bc of the risk factor.

🏩 What was my muse’s first time like?

A bit fumbled, a bit flustering, but definitely a moment he looks back on fondly, even with how embarrassed he was throughout.

He hadn’t anticipated how awkward he himself would be in the moment, having thought being with someone who knew him so intimately as it was would make things more comfortable and far easier. Instead, he found himself tripping up and stumbling damn near all the way through, same as them. Both due to lack of experience and just how in awe he was of them. Of having the chance to be and share this with them.

What he remembers most fondly is laughter spilling from their lips as their noses smushed together in clumsy kisses, head bumping together, teeth clacking a slight in their eagerness. Wandering hands and playful little prods and teasing pinches, because they couldn’t help their usual banter coming to the forefront, even now.

He remembers endlessly fretting over them, almost feeling his heart stop at their first wince, frantic apologies flooding from his lips even as the cupped his face and told him it was alright.

He remembers soon breathlessly speaking their name like a mantra once they grasped a decent rhythm at last, voicing it again and again, the only prayer that would ever leave his lips in his life, just as he would come to think of their body as the only temple he would ever find wherein to worship.

He remembers their voice as a hymn, a sweet melody to fill his heart and quell the ebbing tides of his thoughts the more he'd draw it from their lips, his own but a simple harmony to theirs in turn.

Above all, he remembers laying together afterwards, foreheads pressed together and legs entangled. Remembers sleepy, teasing little kisses pressed to his lips along with rasped I love you’s and fond reassurances, as he'd held them close and wished they could simply remain in that very moment, for all time.

The memory never fails to bring a smile to his face.

🌼 Would my muse prefer a big wedding or a small wedding?

Would absolutely prefer a small wedding, something nice and intimate with only family and their closest friends involved ( they ARE pretty much family after all ). Would be open to discussing a bigger event if his partner is set on it, but for himself, he really would like a nice, small ceremony.

#strdstd #hc; halfdan #answered #suggestive #long post for ts #//The whiplash I got rereading from 3 to 4 sjbfdg #//3 I think is my fave answer

[lewis-winters]

Day 8: Graceful

part of my OC-tober 2022 (that's prolly going to bleed into 2023)! I took so long writing this prompt. I wrote three separate ones and hated all of them. This is the one I hated the least, so it's the one I'm going to post. I'm not happy with it tho 🫠🫠🫠

tw: period typical queer/transphobia

[AN EXCERPT FROM “BAND OF BROTHERS AND ONE SISTER: A QUEER HISTORY OF EASY COMPANY” BY ADAM NEWMANN

A THESIS SUBMITTED TO THE FACULTY OF GRADUATE STUDIES IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF MASTER OF HISTORY]

The following is an essay found amongst the private papers of David Kenyon Webster, posthumously annotated and collated by his partner Joseph D. Liebgott during the years 1983 -1990, before being gifted to Arthur Benjamin Foster in June 1992 whereupon it was kept in his private collection until the day of his death in July 29, 2018.

xxx

I do believe I was the first to figure out.

Not about Foster, of course. That honor falls to one Eugene Roe, I think. I haven’t properly confirmed it, but who else would it have been? There isn’t a world in all of vast existence that I can manage to conjure where the company’s best combat medic would turn his back on another soldier in need. Unfamiliar am I in physiology dissimilar to my own[1], even I can tell that binding one’s chest for as long as Foster had been doing (while going through the same number of maneuvers for the same amount of time as the rest of us) is a health hazard Doc Roe would never allow amongst the men under his care. Not to mention dealing with monthlies[2], a feat already so difficult to go through, much less successfully hide on one’s own. In so far as I’ve known him, I could never pinpoint a time in which Foster had looked ill on account of breathlessness or dreaded muscle cramps. Either he was very good at hiding it—which I do not totally discount (out of all of us, Foster had always been one very comfortable with pain), but I might also venture to claim that Foster’s continued proper use of his lungs is a direct result of Doc Roe’s (and, additionally, Ralph Spina’s) nagging care. I doubt Foster would have made it through the war in one piece without it.

Though, I must admit, I might not have been the first to figure Arthur Benjamin Foster out, I very much could have been one of the first to figure him out, having been blindsided one night in the showers of our Aldbourne base camp; sure I had been alone to have another go at cleaning up after that afternoon’s accumulation of grime and sweat and completely unaware that the next thirty minutes would yield an enlightening argument from the two stooges that had decided bickering about Foster’s status as a, and I quote; “man with a bit missing[3], and two bits tacked on,”  was best done in the middle of the night in a shared shower located in the middle of a base camp, filled with soldiers trained to report any sign of queerness to higher-ups for extermination via blue-ticket.

In hindsight, I’m not entirely sure how I managed to keep as quiet as I had been that night, huddled in the stall in the far end of the row, terrified of discovery[4] just as Morse had been, so adamant was she that Foster be more mindful of the locks whenever he’d chanced a place to change.[5]

But I digress.[6]

Christmas in Aldbourne had been an odd affair—I chalk it up to the atmosphere our impending “great task” put us in. Contrary to popular belief, most of us were very aware that it could have been our very last happy celebration. There wasn’t much in terms of presents, food, or booze, but there was much laughter and cheer, most of which had been heralded by an amateur production of Romeo and Juliet some members of second platoon had put together under the direction of closet thespian Captain Nixon, then Lt. Nixon. Or at least, the first portion of it had done its job beautifully, with the image of clumsy, rough soldiers taking on the delicate poetry of the Bard’s works. I surely laughed some[7].

But perhaps the core of the subject matter of the play had been too somber for an audience with death constantly in the back of their minds. I remember distinctly how the end of the production brought in an oppressive hush over the audience. Our Romeo and Juliet were far too convincing, and by the end of it, in that awkward time between festivities and dinner, things had gotten a bit more solemn and quiet. The finality of death, even in the fictional sense, hadn’t been lost on us, and in an attempt to raise spirits, Nixon decided to secretly pass around his own, generously taking a bottle or two from his seemingly never-ending stash of the VAT 69 to share. I had been on my second helping of it (snuck to me by one Joe Liebgott, the gesture confusing me in the moment, but in hindsight was one of the first instants of recognition between the both of us, I think[8]) when I’d noticed that our unfortunate Juliet had yet to change out of her dress.

Morse had been our Juliet. Why, I’m not sure, though I always thought it was due to the relationship Nixon had with her. An almost brotherly one, with all its quiet concern disguised by teasing (that at times might have gone too far), but was often excused due to the undercurrent of tenderness that each stabbing jibe carried. Opposite her, he’d somehow managed to convince our resident rake Sgt. Talbert to take on the role of Romeo. It had all been a joke at their expense, no doubt. The reasons for the joke differ depending on who you ask, but for myself I knew Nixon had zeroed in on whatever budding, hot-and-cold relationship that had been brewing between them since the troop ship (or, if I’m not mistaken, since Pvt. Diedrich’s tragic death during the practice jumps in Toccoa)[9]. A rather cruel move, I had thought, especially toward her; though I was still too ambivalent toward Morse to bother saying anything.

Or perhaps ambivalent is not the right word.

I was apathetic. I didn’t know her—partly due to my own lack of trying, but aided, too, by her own reticence. She certainly never made it easy to know her in those first few months, and why would she? when everything about her until that very moment had been a lie? Though not the only one of us who was lying at this point, her silence on the matter of her identity was a result of a different kind of hiding. While some of us hid beneath cloaks of wool, sweltering beneath from the heat, sweating because of the promise of the sure ridicule and death, she had no cloak. All she had was an ill-fitting, sharp and painful skin, not her own and hurting her, with every step she took. I could never imagine that, the pain of looking in a mirror and being unable to recognize the entity staring back at you. No wonder she’d been the way she had, often hunched over, trying to make herself as small as possible in order to avoid as many eyes as possible. When you spoke to her, she was never fully present. Not in an absent-minded, manner, no. But in a carefully curated way. Like an impersonal room meant to appeal to everyone’s surface level of taste. Or one of those unremarkable hotel paintings, meant to be nothing more than to be a pretty image to look over. Even when she’d brought out the charm in those rare moments she deigned it necessary to smile at local girls in those little pubs we would find ourselves at, she was only ever able to achieve an approximation of a person. One that would last only a night with whatever pretty girl would fall for her charms, and then disappear in the morning, like some apparition.

Morse was a ghost, for me and for everyone else.

But in that dress, she’d transformed.

It should have struck me then and there, but I was too blown away by her sudden appearance, this human emerging from her cocoon, fully realized. In this cloth of cheap, emerald green and dirty white chiffon, crafted masterfully by Foster himself to fit and flatter her better than any commercial dress might—or any one-time-use, amateur theatre costume had any right to be—she was more than just a character on stage, or an actor of it. Nothing about her seemed out of place in that moment, despite it being all wrong theoretically. The comedy of it should have been derived from the mismatch of a man in a dress, but there was all rightness in her, then. A complete picture.

What happened then, reader, was what I could only describe to be a moment of True Recognition. It was then that I realized—looking at it in hindsight, I want to smack myself for such obliviousness. Truly, I say to you, it should have struck me earlier. The second she’d appeared on stage, in fact. The minute that secondary curtain had pulled back and she smiled, blooming beneath the lights like a flower to the sun—no one had laughed. They should have laughed. But none did. Not even when she’d simply sat, silent and lovely, smiling slightly with a hint of girlish excitement, like a blushing, young Juliet would have been in the face of a party being thrown solely for her. Nor when she’d gracefully recited half that sonnet, the words curling from her lips like tender leaves reaching out, out, out toward the surface to feel the sun. Not even when she lay, dying, her last breath a condemnation of hate, a celebration of love. There was no comedy to be found anywhere. There was no mismatch, and everyone could sense it. We were looking at a fully realized person.

She was just a girl in a dress.

It was lightning splitting through me, then. Striking me from between my eyes and pooling in searing heat just below my sternum, until it settled like molten metal in my stomach. Inexplicably, I ran through several emotions all at once. Elation, happiness, joy—I shudder to think of the faces I must have pulled in so little a time.[10] Then, recognition. Then, dread. Fear. A deep, deep sadness that made me turn away from her and back to thoughts that had brought us there, half-drunk and half-hysterical, reveling in the last moments of true freedom we knew we were ever going to get. Some, for a long time. Others, for the last.

All I could think was: God, let her live. If You had any grace left in this graceless world that allows war and famine and pain, spare some that she may live. So she can escape and go somewhere where she can wear dresses like these every day. Where she can live as she is, and not as what the military wants her to be. Where she can be more than government property, set up for slaughter and a tombstone that will do no justice to the inner life she currently lives.

And if she were to die, if this was going to be her last happy moment in a world of dark uncertainty, then I wished she had the chance to die in that dress. Be buried in it, as the person she really was, rather than the man everybody else saw her as. I didn’t want her to return to her uniform. To that cocoon that I knew, even without her insight, hurt her more than anything else did. She was meant for more. Butterfly wings.

I couldn’t stand it.

So, I left.

… This reads like a confession, Joe. Maybe it is. I have half the mind to send this to her. But what good will it do? She’s not going to stop running. I don’t even know where she is.

xxx

Though the nature of the piece, at first glance, is that of a personal diary entry, the researcher believes that it had been drafted earlier in Webster’s creative writing career and was intended as a practice piece or a personal essay. An assumption based on the last paragraph, keeping in mind how often it was said by those who knew them that Liebgott was often Webster’s sounding board for his writings. However, due to the subject matter, the heaviness of which seemed to have caught Webster off guard, the piece was derailed from its original purpose and thus kept instead of fixed up and published or, at the very least, circulated amongst their closest confidants within their Easy Company circle, as was his wont at the time.

Furthermore, unlike his own personal diary entries and his published articles dated in the latter years of his life, throughout this piece, Webster appears to be speaking to an audience separate from himself, through the vehicle of “reader” or, often, a singular “you.” Additionally, unlike his published articles, fellow Easy Company soldier, Natalie Morse is explicitly referred to as female in this piece, as opposed to only hinted at as female through specific choices in metaphor that establish a feminine-coded motif on her literary presence (i.e., always comparing her metaphorically to female figures, such as a sister or a mother and referring to her movements and physicality with gendered language skewing largely feminine), a literary style Webster often favors in his public works. His own respectful way of depicting Morse as he knew her while simultaneously avoiding outing her amongst unforgiving society at the time.

Despite the exact date of this piece being pure speculation at best, it is a widely shared belief amongst the Queer History community that this is the first ever attempt at capturing the existence of Natalie Morse as a transgender woman, pre-dating People Like Us, the written memoirs of Arthur Benjamin Foster, published in 2017 but which was written in the late 2000s.

Webster’s stylistic choices in referring to Morse in both this article and his published ones, as well as his blatant support of her, supplements the claims that most (if not all) Easy Company soldiers knew of the existence of not just Foster, but of Morse too, as transgender individuals, as well as their ready acceptance of them in a time when queerness was seen as a threat to be reported and eradicated within and between military men.

[1] That’s an understatement

[2] If Arthur had ever thought to kill us in this time, I would have let him, poor guy was suffering through enough

[3] I prefer when Able calls it a lack of inches

[4] You were always an eavesdropper, but not on purpose—or that’s what you claimed. Just always in the right place in the right time, my David

[5] If you were a Toccoa man, you knew about Foster; him and Morse weren’t quite as sneaky as they thought they were [RESEARCHER’S NOTE: In his memoirs People Like Us, Foster mentions how Liebgott was one of the few Easy soldiers who was in the dark about Foster’s existence as a transgender man. Webster later supplements this in a diary entry, where he mentions Liebgott’s rather comical reaction to finding out. This researcher is of the belief that this annotation was either an attempt at saving face or a case of memory failing Liebgott in later years.]

[6] Rambling, Web

[7] Pretentious bastard

[8] Hate to break it to you, buddy, but Hoob set that up. I think he was hoping to knock you out early and get you to bed so he could fuck around without having to worry about you passing out in some bar and missing curfew. Again. “Recognition” happened earlier. I’ll tell you next time.

[9] How the fuck do you know that? I never knew that! [RESEARCHER’S NOTE: It is often anecdotally mentioned by Easy Company men that while a notorious gossip, Liebgott was often times oblivious. In People Like Us, Foster often talks about how Liebgott would ask Webster for gossip he may have accidentally picked up.]

[10] Like a fish out of water, with your mouth half open and gasping for air

#stella's oc-tober 2022 #natalie morse #people like us #bob ocs #david webster #webgott #no those last paragraphs is not an in-universe excuse I made up to justify why my writing sounds nothing like Webster’s #why do you even think that what gave you that idea hahahahaha #just wanted to write that euphoric moment a queer person might feel when they spot another queer person in the wild #ab foster #estrella_marie

[cosmicstarlatte]

Mammon A-Z Smut HCs (Obey Me!)

⬅Back to Smut HC A-Z Masterlist ◇

18+ only, minors do not interact.

My personal headcanons using this [prompt list]

The goal is to finish the whole list; you are welcome to request a letter so I get to it faster. I will work on it as quick as I can but keep in mind I do have a life & responsibilities lol. ^^

Last Updated: Oct.1.2023 (5 out of 26)

⚠️Notes: I'll tag any sections if needed. If you think a section needs a tag, kindly let me know.

A: Affair (Describe an extra-marital affair)

B: Birthday (Describe birthday sex)

C: Compliments (Mid- and post-sex compliments)

D: Dry Humping (Describe a dry-humping scene)

E: Experimenting (Trying something new)

He'll be nervous & get shy with any new kinks. He's always willing to try though, just give him a little time & if he changes his mind, he'll tell you! After trying something, he will let you know if he didn't particularly care for it or not. "That? Ya I like that... but this? Nah, not my style!"

F: Firsts (First time having sex together)

The first time you two have sex with each other, it's steamy, passionate & fluffy. Maybe just slightly clumsy but that only happens because of the excitement you both have! Especially him! He loves you & feels much closer to you after it. Cuddling with you the first time after sex filled a hole he didn't know he had. From then on he always looks forward to cuddling after sex.♡

G: Gentle (Describe gentle/loving mid-sex gestures)

H: Handsy (When they can’t keep their hands to themselves)

I: Initiator (Who initiates most of the time? How?)

J: Jealous (“Claiming” a partner)

tags: possessive/territorial/violent, ass grabbing, objectification(?) All common sense goes out the window when it comes to this man & jealousy. He's bark & bite (peck?). He has no issue interrupting you & an unknown demon if they look at you like some piece of meat. You're his; no one's taking his treasure! He will wrap an arm around you or smack your ass & plant a quick kiss, glaring at whoever you're talking to & they can usually take the hint. ...Now if he actually finds someone outright flirting with you & making you uncomfortable, he'll lose his shit & get in their face quick. He has no issue grabbing them & throwing them. "Who do ya think you are! Talkin' like that to what's mine! Remember your place!"

K: Kitchen (Describe a sex scene in the kitchen)

L: Likes (What they like in the bedroom)

M: Morning (Describe morning sex)

N: Never (Things they would never try)

O: Orgasm (Describe coming--who comes first? What do they say? How does the other person know it’s approaching?)

P: Playlist (A playlist for getting down and dirty; will probably include a lap dance song, a song for making love, and a song that represents their sex life)

Q: Quiet (Reaction to a quiet partner)

R: Ruttish (Signs that they’re horny)

S: Safe Word (How often is the safe word used? Why?)

T: Teasing (Who’s the tease in the relationship? What do they do? How often?)

U: Undressing (Strip teasing a partner)

V: Videos (Sending NSFW videos to each other)

The first time you sent Mammon a video, he jerked it until his balls were completely drained. He of course sent his own vid showing you how much he loved it. "Mmph, fuuuck!...look at what ya do to me...haah! Look at all this fuckin' cum , just for you baby." He couldn't help but ask for more vids from you so he can jerk off when you're not around. He loves to send you his feedback every time.❤️

W: Wedding Night (Consummating the marriage)

X: XXX (What kind of porn does the person watch? How often?)

Before you, he would watch it every other day if he was in the mood. Succubus's & witches, pretty tame actually nothing too crazy & usually had some praise kink involved. Those vids did it for him up until he got you. Now he turns to his own private (favorite) collection if he has to jerk off. See V too lol.^

Y: Yawn (How they sleep post-sex)

Z: Zoo (Their animalistic qualities in the bedroom)

#obey me #obey me mammon #obey me smut #obey me headcanons #obey me mammon smut #obey me mammon headcanons #obey me smut headcanons #obey me mammon x reader #obey me mammon x you #obey me mammon x mc #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹

[ironnahas]

White day game cast

#WHITE DAY GAME CAST HOW TO#

I stuffed my pockets with anything vaguely attention-getting. When I was five or six, I took the message of Sierra graphic adventures into my heart: Pick up everything that isn’t nailed down. Has a game ever shifted how you act outside of it?

#WHITE DAY GAME CAST HOW TO#

Has a game ever changed your behavior? I don’t mean in the way that Dark Souls teaches you how to play it, learning patterns, correct combinations of button presses in Tekken, or the precise moment when to tap A in Ninja Gaiden to account for NES-era platforming clumsiness, internalizing a game into the motor neurons of your fingers perfectly. The goal in the end is to say “I lived, motherfucker.” Survival requires persistence, the continuation of the self. Turns out, that’s not a habit that’s helpful in survival horror games either, which is a weird revelation to have. Mostly I just like the reminder that someone was here, that I exist, and have an impact on the space around me. I always try to do better-I understand their frustrations, I apologize-but change has been slow. Usually for other people-my partners, parents, the people who are left to contend with the consequences of my leaving the spaces I inhabit constantly looking like they’ve been rummaged through. Whatever the process behind it, I just don’t close things fully, if at all. A lot of doors stay open because I’m never sure if I’m finished with whatever’s beyond them. I’ll keep the fridge open while cooking until the beeping prompts someone to tell me to close the damn thing. Sometimes I underestimate how much force the smooth-glide hinges on a cabinet require to shut, or don’t want to make noise by overestimating how little force is required to shut something properly. Continued abuse of our services will cause your IP address to be blocked indefinitely.See, I have a problem: I never close doors. Please fill out the CAPTCHA below and then click the button to indicate that you agree to these terms. If you wish to be unblocked, you must agree that you will take immediate steps to rectify this issue. If you do not understand what is causing this behavior, please contact us here. If you promise to stop (by clicking the Agree button below), we'll unblock your connection for now, but we will immediately re-block it if we detect additional bad behavior. Overusing our search engine with a very large number of searches in a very short amount of time.Using a badly configured (or badly written) browser add-on for blocking content.Running a "scraper" or "downloader" program that either does not identify itself or uses fake headers to elude detection.Using a script or add-on that scans GameFAQs for box and screen images (such as an emulator front-end), while overloading our search engine.There is no official GameFAQs app, and we do not support nor have any contact with the makers of these unofficial apps. Continued use of these apps may cause your IP to be blocked indefinitely. This triggers our anti-spambot measures, which are designed to stop automated systems from flooding the site with traffic. Some unofficial phone apps appear to be using GameFAQs as a back-end, but they do not behave like a real web browser does.Using GameFAQs regularly with these browsers can cause temporary and even permanent IP blocks due to these additional requests. If you are using Maxthon or Brave as a browser, or have installed the Ghostery add-on, you should know that these programs send extra traffic to our servers for every page on the site that you browse.The most common causes of this issue are: Your IP address has been temporarily blocked due to a large number of HTTP requests.

#White day game cast

[amaya-writes]

Hi! Can i please request some sfw and nsfw boyfriend headcanons for Baji with a fem s!o? Thank you 💕

Notes: I haven't written a lot for Baji so it was fun to explore his character with this!

Warnings: NSFW content near the end so MDNI!!

Characters involved: Baji Keisuke

(The SFW ones are gender-neutral) Female reader, you/yours

Dating Baji Keisuke would include...

Cute hesitant confessions at the most random moment.

Baji knows that he's a great fighter and an important gang member, but he's unsure of whether or not he can be a good boyfriend.

He thinks he'll be bad for you, which is why he doesn't confess for a good while. In fact, he probably only confesses once prompted by another factor (like you possibly ending up with someone else).

Baji probably just blurts out what he thinks is a romantic book-like confession but really is sort of corny.

Not that it matters since you like him for his corniness.

Once you date him, you will constantly have a hair tie on your wrist. But not just any hair tie, Baji's plain black ones that he always seems to lose and needs to buy more of.

Insists on making you tie his hair up for him. He also loves sitting between your legs and letting you braid his hair as you talk about your days.

He tries to pull cliche romantic things like giving you little love notes or small trinkets as presents.

It sort of backfires when he ends up getting into fights and breaking the gift or Chifuyu decides to scribble little jokes onto the back of his notes.

Baji loves taking you on spontaneous dates.

Firework gazing, hanami festivals, carnivals, little cafe dates on random days because he missed you (or vice versa).

Totally the type to wake you up at 5am because he wanted to watch the sunrise with you.

Insists on adopting a kitten together. It is officially your child and Baji will spoil it to the moon and back.

The little black kitten's really just one of the many cats that were lured to Baji's bedroom window because of the cat food he keeps out for them.

Baji loves when you get clingy or wear his clothes, but he panics so bad if you wear his Toman jacket.

Dating Baji can often feel like a fun adventure, but then there are times where he gets serious and grounded.

Baji isn't big on PDA, but he does like to hold your hand in public or wrap an arm around your shoulders/waist. It's more because he just feels the need to hold onto you than to show others you're a couple.

When you first start dating you would have to initiate most of the affection because he still needs to get used to the idea of being physically affectionate with another.

He totally asked Chifuyu, and even Mikey and Draken, for advice and ended up believing the bullshit lie they told him about how his partner will leave him if he isn't physically affectionate.

Once he gets used to the idea of physical affection, Baji quite likes cuddling with you.

Play with his hair and lightly scratch his scalp while he's lying on top of you and Baji will practically purr and fall asleep so easily.

NSFW edition...

Baji really likes having you on his lap.

It starts off as just a casual cuddle session but then your kisses start lingering a little too long.

Suddenly his hands are trailing under the sweater you're wearing- his sweater and somehow Baji has to physically stop himself from going further the second he rolls one of your breasts in his hand.

But the whine you let out when you feel him pull away is enough to have him quickly return to your body.

Your first time's very clumsy and rushed and filled with the need of the two of you just having to feel each other.

By the time you actually get around to having sex you've already been dating for a good few years, you're probably in college, Baji didn't go.

It's not like Baji hasn't had sex before, but doing it with someone like you, someone he genuinely cares for and loves, just feels different.

Unlike what most people think, Baji isn't a hard dom who refuses to sub, he's more of a switch who just goes with the flow and can hand over control easily.

If you aren't on his lap, then Baji prefers having you ass-up-face-down on the bed.

He can be a little rough/urgent but Baji won't outright be rough unless you ask him to.

One of the guys who think the clit is a myth 😭

Baji means well and will do anything to make you feel pleasure but you might need to teach him a few things. Don't worry, he's a quick learner in the bedroom.

He prefers cumming on your inner thighs because he likes the way it sort of makes a mess but at the same time, it's not on you.

Has a thing for hair tugging (receiving and maybe giving) and has an overstimulation kink.

Look, Baji has very high stamina, and if he isn't going to use it in fights well...then he might as well use it with you.

But Baji always feels the need to ask you for consent and make sure you're alright with everything.

He also really loves aftercare. He'll scoop you up and clean both of you up before having a cuddling session which usually ends with both of you falling asleep.

#tokyo revengers baji #baji hcs #baji x reader #baji smut #keisuke baji #baji x you #baji keisuke #baji scenarios #baji fluff #baji tokrev #baji x y/n #baji x female reader #baji x gn!reader #keisuke x reader #tokrev x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers imagine #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev smut #tokyorev fluff #tokyorev x reader

[mrs-march-ahs]

Pre-Cult Kai Adderall Dealer

Summary- You meet your best friend’s brother, and pay for your Adderall with an unconventional payment, which lets you discover a lot more about him than you planned.

Warnings­- Mummy kink, unprotected sex, drugs?? (Adderall mention??), adorable soft Kai Anderson

Last day of Kai week! I’m very happy to the nice response I got, I’m glad you enjoyed. I wasn’t sure if I was consistent enough to power through, but I’m very pleased that I managed! I still do have a few Kai things planned but not coming right away, I need to breathe!

I couldn’t not do something like this after so many people filled my requests with thirst for Pre-Cult Kai. I love this softie too, so here’s Pre-Cult (long brown hair!) Kai with a mummy kink.

Requests included-

hey can i request you for the kai week a fanfic about pre-cult kai and the reader dominates him. i’ve seen hcs about it on @tatestripedsweater account. btw i love ur work <3 -Yes girl, what she wrote was my request so we’re on the same page! Thank you!

i’m back with my pre-cult kai request 🥺 college student kai has a special place in my heart — this is super vague but something along the lines of being partners with him or helping him when he drops his books... 🥺 thank you !! – Started off with some fluff, hope you like it!

Congrats on 600 followers! Can I request something for Kai week? The reader and pre cult Brunette Kai, a fluffy smut. -Yes babey here you go:) Thank you!

hey i was wondering for the kai week if you could make a smut from when kai had brown hair (before the whole cult thing) and he’s a submissive to the reader because he has mommy issues. thank you and i loveee your account , congrats for 600 followers:)) – Yes @burningcowboydonkeypizza, I hope you like this! I definitely interpreted ‘mommy issues’ as mummy kink<3 Thank you very much!

 ----

Looking down at your phone walking through the college corridors, you try to pick a song to listen to, completely clueless of your surroundings. This becomes evident when you walk straight into another student, a taller boy with brown wavy hair like a cocker spaniel. He knocks the binder you were holding out of your hand and immediately bends down to pick it up. He hands it to you and straightens his lips into an awkward smile, you thank him and take it from him.

“Sorry I’m uh… clumsy… Mr Butterfingers”

“Don’t worry about it”, you smile and begin to walk away until he puts his hand on your shoulder to stop you.

“Wait uh… are you Y/N? You’re friends with my sister, Winter, right?”. You smile and nod, not realising that you were talking to your best friend’s brother, not having met him before.

“So, does that mean you’re coming to her birthday party tomorr-”

“Wait… I do know you…”. You begin, the realisation of where you know him from slowly hitting you. “Do you uh… sell Adderall?”, you lower your voice, and he nods, smirking like he’s proud of himself.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N”, he says and walks away before you can say anything to him.

You give him a friendly smile and walk to your class, last one of the semester.

--

The next day when you loiter around Winter’s house, looking for Kai, you try to recollect his face from your meeting yesterday. You put your hand in the pocket of your jeans and for the fiftieth time check whether your 30 dollars is still there. Winter walks over to you breaks you out of your trance, handing you a drink, which you take and swirl around, deep in thought.

“Don’t worry, I poured it for you”, she says reassuringly before cheering the beer with you. The both of you take a drink before you look over her shoulder at the door opening, hoping it’s Kai. But much to your disappointment, it’s your friend Alex. Winter notices the way you watch the door and wriggles her eyebrows.

“You excited for Alex to come?”. You snap out of your deep thought and look at her.

“No… actually I’m looking for your brother… Kai”

“Why would he come through the door? He lives here”, she laughs. “He’s probably in the basement like the gremlin he is”

When Winter motions with her hand to the basement, you look over at the door and take a deep breath, trying to gain the confidence to talk to him.

“I’m gonna go and welcome-”

“Yeah, yeah have fun Winnie”, you say not even realising how rude you sound. Winter rolls her eyes when she sees you hesitantly walk up to the basement door, realising you’re interested in her nerdy-ass brother. Over the loud sound of the music blasting through the speaks and slightly shaking the house, you didn’t expect Kai to hear your knocking, no matter how hard. You break your wrist trying to pound at the door, but still to not reply. But the second you put your hand over the handle to walk in, you feel a large hand on your shoulder turning you around.

“What are you doing?”. Kai barks, clearly protective of his room. You take your money out of your pocket and put it in his hand, and he nods slowly, understanding you want.

He opens the door to the basement and takes your hand, walking in with you. You walk down the stairs with him and exhale in relief at the loud music gradually getting more and more quiet, your heart temporarily returning to a normal pace. Kai walks over to his sofa and drops down, putting his hands in his pockets trying to find his Adderall. You politely sit next to him and immediately notice the effect your close presence has on him, as he awkwardly sits up and clears his throat, now searching his pockets a little more nervously.

“Uh it’s uh… where is it…”. Kai laughs nervously and leans over to his bedside table by the couch. When he does so, you take a not-so-sneaky look at the way his shirt rises up showing off the bottom of his toned back and his Calvins. He takes out a bottle of Adderall out of the top drawer, before opening his fist to look at the money you gave him. He slides the notes around in his hand before looking at you.

“Thirty dollars? That’s not gonna get you a full bottle”. He laughs, and you inch in closer to him and whisper seductively.

“Maybe we can work something else out”

His eyes widen a little and he flickers down at your shirt, peeking at your boobs through it. You straddle his lap and he freezes a little, unsure what to do and clearly not very experienced. You find his slight innocence endearing and kiss him, straight away making out with him and getting aroused at how hesitantly he kisses you back. Though you’re not usually dominant, you take this opportunity to test it out, especially with such an intimidating-looking man. If you can dominate him, you could dominate anybody.

When he puts his hands on your thighs and rubs them up and down, you moan into his mouth, encouraging him to feel you more, helping him by sliding his hands around your thighs and slowly getting to your ass. His hands softly slide on your ass, feeling the shape, but when he gives your cheeks a soft squeeze, you initiate your dominance and grab hold of them. You pull away and put his hands on either side of his shoulders, lining up with the back of the couch. His eyes widen at your sudden movement and he looks at you completely baffled.

“Keep your hands to yourself”

He nods quickly and you run your fingers down his chest and to his pants, which are looking tighter than ever before. Unzipping his pants makes Kai gasp quietly and you shuffle them down, Kai lifting his body up a little to make it easier, completely compliant to your actions. You look at his shaft through his boxers and exhale in satisfaction at how hard he is. You look him in his deep brown lustful eyes, before getting off him and swiftly dropping down to your knees. Kai puts his hand flat on the couch by each side and sucks in a quivering breath, trying to not put you off with the sheer excitement he’s feeling. You put your hands on his thighs and squeeze them, before leaning in and biting the band on his underwear and pulling them down with your teeth, letting his dick spring up and practically pulsate before your eyes. Kai bites his lip and watches you eagerly while you lick up his dick once.

He holds in a moan and bites on his lip harder. Watching him melt in front of you with even the minimal contact sends a rush of arousal down to your pussy, and itching to tease him more, you wrap your lips around the tip of his dick and suckle on him. Kai moans softly and when you look up at him, sucking and licking on him rhythmically, he whines a little. You refuse to inch down even a bit further down his cock, and suck his tip up and down as much as you can.

Kai breathes heavily and moans at the teasing and reaches one hand to your head, making you immediately push it back down. You push his hands by his side and return your own to the same place on his thighs, this time, holding them closer to his crotch and grasping tighter. He throws his head back and whines at the pleasure and digs his fingers into the sofa more, attempting to thrust up into your mouth. You give him a stern look when he does so but he desperately puts both hands through your hair, wanting to push you down further, but instead making you remove your mouth from him completely. He looks at you with a desperate look and opens his mouth ready to beg when you stand up. He looks at you worried, hoping you won’t leave, but becomes relived when you begin taking your pants off.

“You liked that?”

He nods, sucking his bottom lip in, watching you take your pants and underwear off.

“You should’ve kept your hands to yourself, I wouldn’t have stopped”

You straddle his lap and come closer to him, pushing his dick up against his stomach.

“Yes ma’am”

You smirk at the nickname and lift yourself up, grabbing his dick and rubbing it up and down your soaking slit, enjoying the sight of Kai desperate for more but too proud to beg. For now.

“Hm?”. You prompt him, wanting to hear his whining again. He puts his hands on your hips and moves them with you as you begin to grind against his rock-hard cock, almost putting the tip in. You lean in and brush your lips against his, teasing him into wanting to kiss before moving your lips to his neck. You place a few gentle kisses behind his ear, which forces a sweet whine out of him that he tries to hide. It echoes against your ear and you can’t help yourself anymore, so you sink down on his cock right down to the bottom. Kai hisses through his teeth and lays his head back on the sofa, giving into your dominance completely.

You wrap your hands around his neck and stay close to him.

“Is this what you want? Cuddles?”, you say rhetorically.

“No… please…”

“Please what baby?”

“Please… ride me”. Kai’s hands on your hips begin to move you a little, and you finally give him what he begs for, pushing yourself up with your hands on his shoulders before slamming back down. Kai drools at the view of you riding him, your boobs bouncing with every movement and hypnotizing him, making him stare without even realizing.

Even with you half naked jumping on his cock, he still seemed a little tense and shy, but you wanted him to be completely comfortable and relaxed with you. You take his hand off your hip and put it on your boob, making him moan and cup it. With every harsher movement hitting your cervix, you clench around him and cry out in pleasure, encouraging him to thrust up faster, wanting to make you feel as good as possible. He squeezes and kneads your tit, engulfed in the feeling of having you in front of him to play with.

As you begin approaching closer to your orgasm, you unintentionally clench around him more and more often, making Kai pant and moan, finally comfortable enough to truly let go. And clearly, he does.

“Mummy!”, he whines out, no longer caring about how loud he’s being, until the new nickname makes you look at him. His mouth creeps open when he realizes that although his greatest fantasy just came true, he might have ruined it by going too far. He pulls you closer by your waist and awkwardly tries to apologize.

“Uh I’m sorry… it… it just… slipped out-”

“Don’t be”, you reassure him and give him a kiss, mumbling hotly against his lips. “I like it”

You put your hands back on his shoulder and give him a cheeky wink before riding him faster, jumping up and plunging back down onto his cock, going deeper but hitting the same powerful angle every time. Kai lets out a long whine when he feels you going in deeper, needing one last thing before letting go.

“Cum for mummy”

The second your dominant voice hits Kai, it sends him into a powerful orgasm, releasing his load and groaning when you don’t stop, not giving him a break. He fills the room with whimpers of overstimulation as you continue to ride him, your pussy clenching and sucking every last drop he has to offer.

“Stop hnnnnng too much”, he groans out, and pulls you into a hug to stop you from moving. He keeps his hands tightly wrapped around you. Though slightly taken aback, you comply to the affection and rest your head on Kai’s shoulder, shuffling your legs as close to him as possible as you stay straddling him. Kai places a loving kiss on your shoulder and mumbles against your skin.

“Stay like this… for just a second longer”

“No problem, sweetheart”, you smile and run your fingers back and forth on his back and neck. “So… can I have the Adderall bottle?”, you laugh.

“You can have my car”

--

taglist:)

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