#i shouldn’t have spent a decent amount of time on this

[bigfatbimbo]

HATE SEX RIVAL LUTE idc dom reader dom lute my switch ass would be happy either way i just need need need this 🙏

Lie still, close your eyes girl, so lovely it feels so right —

Lute x reader,, 2.5 words

a/n — I literally did not mean to make this so long, I literally blacked out or something. Anyways, more Rival!Lute shit here, here, here and here. You don’t actually need to read any of those to understand what’s happening, though.

warning — heavy smut, afab but gn reader, VERY SWITCHY ROLES, dom reader but also dom Lute, scissoring, fingering, weird angsty sex, also it takes like 800 words for the sex to actually happen, honestly probably kinda cheesy

summary — After years of fighting with a sinner who’s well gifted in combat, Lute finally looses control and… well… they fuck.

The fight was close, just like always. Every move Lute made to strike was blocked gracefully by you.  Her swift moves were countered by your calculated blocks, followed by your precise jabs in her direction.

Each extermination day, the dance was set in stone. You, a fowl sinner from the trenches of this mortal plane, would be in the very same place each year. Always to fight Lute, a skilled angel soldier with immense training and knowledge on the battlefield. 

The odds should have been in Lutes favor, but just like last year and the year before that, they never were. It wasn’t that she lost the fights, because she would never let that happen. But it was the fact you kept up with her so well that infuriated her. 

Her strikes became tougher, the growl in her voice unmatched. 

“Someone’s angry this time, huh, Lute? You afraid of a good time?” You drew back with a smile, playfulness in your voice contrasted the blow you just laid to her stomach, “Or are you just tired of losing to a sinner?” 

Lute hisses in response, falling behind you and grabbing the back of your shirt, spinning you around to get a better angle, “Don’t kid yourself, I don’t lose. You know that, demon.”

There was not only a venom in her voice, but an anger that could only be explained by the emotion of mild exasperation. She wasn’t tired of fighting or ‘losing’, she was sick of not winning. Her grasp on your shirt loosened when you took a millisecond to examine her position, which conveniently left her stomach exposed, before kicking her hard right where she was open. 

Falling back, she yelped, not expecting the sudden pain. That was another thing that filled her with a bitter rage each year, angels shouldn’t be able to get hurt. And yet, you always managed to make her feel the slightest bit, if not a decent amount, of pain after a fight. 

What she would give to make you feel the same thing, what she would give to make you feel that pain. She wasn’t obsessed, however, no matter the countless nights she’s spent thinking about it. And disregarding what she did to cope on those nights. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Didn’t mean to kick you that hard,” You drew in closer with your weapon, bracing yourself to lay a blow in. This year, it wouldn’t be a draw. This year, in your eyes, would be the year you finally win.

Your hands rise above your head, ready to strike, when you falter. Lute was looking at you with her usual glare of hatred, clutching her stomach, and calculating her next move. But it was your weak moments that certain thoughts overtook you. How could it be helped? She looked so pretty. 

“Too slow, now you’re done for,” Lute sneered, smile growing as she lunged at you, spear clashing with yours as you barely block it. Your body’s were nearly pressed together, as she pushed the wood of her spear harder against yours, trying to break it.

Then her sneer flickers down, “What are you looking at?” She pants, catching her breath after the stimulating action. 

“Your have—“ you breath, “—very pretty eyes.” Your eyes don’t falter with contact, until she looks down. Your superficial attempt to distract her, unlike usual, failed to work.

As if snapping out of a trance, she finally analyses the situation. This is it. All it took was that one moment, and your fucking finished.

“Well i’m glad you think so,” she starts quietly, “Because they’re going to be the last thing you see before you fucking die.” 

She forcefully pushes back with the base of her spear, acting too quick for you to strike back, and swiping your feet. 

“Finally,” she almost laughs, “Finally, I win, you vile demon. I win—“

You slide your foot behind her calf and tug her forward, making her fall into the space next to you, leaving you time to roll on top of her. 

The wit in your voice was gone and replaced with bare survival instinct. Her hands go to grab her weapon but instinctively you pin them down. 

With nothing left to do, you simply stare at eachother, catching your breath and panting heavily.

Lute glared up at you with confusion, anger, and then something else. The light fell on the top of your head, illuminating a vague sketch of a halo around it. But you were no angel, Lute knew that. And yet something about the way you were looking her made Lute think, if you told her you were sent from heaven she would not only believe you, but curse god himself for not sending you sooner.

Angels don’t make mistakes, they’re perfectly sculpted to be flawless, and this is something Lute has always believed. Which is specifically why the following events confused her. Your grip on her wrists weakened, given her an opening to break free. And still, that’s not what she did with her new freedom. 

Strangely enough, when the constraints your hands acted as broke, she didn’t run away, or even fight back. Instead, she grabbed your collar, pulling you impossibly close, and doing something no one with the title ‘perfect’ would ever do.

You’ve always tested the limits of what she considered ‘possible’ as an angel. You condemned her with scars, when angels were incapable of getting hurt. You plagued her thoughts with lust, despite the ideas you filled her head with being overtly sinful for heavens standards. And now, you’ve provoked the, arguably, best exterminator soldier into making an irreversible mistake. 

But the extermination wasn’t on her mind as her lips slammed against yours, nor was heavens consequences. The only coherent thought in her head was a simple idea; despite your hatred for her, you kissed her back. Not just eagerly, but with twice as much force. 

And then, for whatever reason, reality came back to her. Brutal rage, no, violence filled her as she felt your lips on hers. To call it rage would be wrong. Yes, she did feel the necessity to cause harm to your well being, but something foreign dawned on Lute at that moment. An animalistic need for you, one that, despite being tainted by her hatred for you, was truly only fueled by it.

In one motion, she rolled you over, pining you to the ground by your shoulders and going back in for another kiss. Your lips were poison, that was undeniable, but the taste was sweet enough to distract from the deadly venom filling Lutes stomach. 

“Look what you’re doing, sinner,” She hissed into your mouth, “Your turning the blessed into the damned, you slut. Haven’t you been cruel enough?”

Her words were spoke with such a blaze of passionate disdain, you almost were at a loss for words. Almost. 

“Your seriously trying to blame this one me? I think it’s pretty obvious, Lute,” You speak inbetween mildly unpleasant, aggressive kisses, arms falling on either side of her hips as she pulls you into her by your shirt collar.

“You’re just dying to fuck me.” 

Your words made Lute temporarily stop, shoving you down and removing her hands from your shirt, and shifting away. 

You smirk at the annoyance on her face as she moves down your body, “Aw, sweetheart, don’t tell me I scared you away. I’d hate to loose the pleasure of your company—“

Her teeth launch into your neck as she struggles to pull your pants down, making you yelp in temporary pain. You feel her smile into the bite mark. 

Lute breathes in anticipation, savoring every moment of her fingers dancing down to your belt, and slipping into your bottoms. How many nights had she spent thinking of this moment in utter, crushing shame? And how many hours afterwards had she berated herself for thinking such vile things?

She didn’t have to think anymore, and soon, you wouldn’t be able to. She relishes in the gasp you let out when she teases her finger to the opening of your pussy.

“Fuck!” You hiss as she slips her finger into your already dripping cunt, “Eager there, are we, Lute?”

Your confidence had already begun to falter. In this fight, it was true, Lute was winning. God, did she devour every shaky breath you took as she began to move her finger inside of you.

“You know demon, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be so wet so soon,” Her other finger teased your entrance, as her first one worked itself more aggressively as the seconds passed, “I just thought you’d have more self control. I guess there are just some fights you can’t keep up with.”

You let out a hiss of disapproval, “Fuck— uh, consider it a compliment Lute. That’s just how much I wanted your crazy ass.”

Lute snickered, your comment lacked your usual wit. You were responding for the sake of responding, not because you had anything clever to say. Pathetic, just as she suspected. Just as she always fucking knew you would be. 

“And I doubt you’re doing much better over there, asshole,” You sneer, drabbling on for more than necessary, “Fuck, ah—”

During your fights, one of the things that infuriated Lute the most was your seemingly perfect composure, never once breaking your playful facade no matter how many blows you took. Now, your fragile character was finally breaking.

All the more reason, the next finger she added, she practically shoved inside you. “Aw, look at that. Prideful sinner,” She tutted smugly, “Looks like someone’s a sore loser.” 

Her fingers worked themselves inside you relentlessly. Every single move implied pure, unrequited hatred. It was a sick kind of attention, but you’d kill to have it more. Despite the flirtatious demeanor of yours finally being compromised, you wouldn’t say it was in vain.

No, certainly not when she was finger fucking you so good. The anger was present and unbreaking with every thrust inside of you, only fueling what was the long burning fire of arousal within you. She would ruin you, just as you would do to her, and god, it was welcomed.

Every motion inside your right cunt led to an embarrassingly priceless moan from you, just as your witty comments turned into mumbles of hatred and fowl wishes upon Lute and her kind. 

But just as your climax drew close, Lute pulled her fingers out. She glanced at them proudly, as if standing over a field of conquered enemies. She basked the moment in, before licking her fingers boastfully. 

“You know, I really thought you’d last longer, demon,” She grinned, “But you really are pathetic, you know that?”

However, by then the neediness in your empty cunt had been replaced by a dull irritation at Lutes demeanor. You were enemies for a reason, and it seemed she forgot how equal the two of you were. 

Too cocky, you think, and far too slow. In one swift movement, you flip her over, pining her to ground just as she had you just moments ago. 

“Is that so, Lute? That’s big talk for someone who lost to a demon for years and years.” Your hands go to stop her wrists from shooting up, “I’m really not the pathetic one here.” 

“I didn’t lose!” Lute struggled against your grip, but strength aside, your position prohibited her from shooting up to regain her control. 

“And what to you call this, then?” Your grin had formed again, but it didn’t distract from the aching from your pussy, “Typical angel fashion. You never leave yourself open like that, Lute. You should know that.”

You scorn her as you free a hand to trail under her skirt and tug her panties down. You’re lucky you get them half way off before she jumps up again. Your hands are quick to catch hers, however. 

“Hm, who’s the sore loser now?” You taunt, shifting the position drastically so that you have both wrists pinned down with one hand above her head.

While Lute struggles against your grip, you use your other arm to host her leg over yours, drawing both of your open cunts daringly close to each other.

“Don’t be stupid, Lute. Do you want me to deal with that mess or not?” The mess in question being her, as suspected before, soaking pussy. 

She grimaced up at you. Before she had the chance to bite you back with a useless reply, you started sloppily grinding your pussies together, earning a moan of pleasure from Lute, and a groan of relief from you.

“Oh fuck—“ She curses breathily, leaning her head back and pushing her legs further into yours, chancing the friction between the two of your aching cunts, “This doesn’t— this doesn’t mean I like you, demon.”

“You know Lute, you’ve made that abundantly clear over the past session,” You speak through gritted teeth and furrowed brows as you start to move faster. 

The slick, filthy, slapping noises that filled the area with around you, filled Lute with an all too familiar feeling of anger at her losing battle. 

“Your fucking perverted sinner filth,” Lute spat out, cutting her sentence off with a terrible hoarse moan, “You were the dirt of the earth when you were alive and now your— ah— even worse in hell.”

“Uh-huh,” you remark, focused on the grinding of your parts against hers, having to take a moment to gather a reply. “I get that you hate me, dumbass. You don’t have to waste your breath—“ you groan with pleasure, “—I’d like to not hear your terrible voice right now, thanks.”

“Fuck you,” she growls, but the threat of her bite is nearly completely gone when her sentence is punctuated with the arch of her back. 

Your speed only increased as you felt the building of your climax, and from the way Lute looked right now, you guessed hers followed soon. In all truth, you didn’t really hate the sound of her voice. In fact, the desperation in it  made you swell with incredible pride. But then again, you guessed she felt the same way about you right now. 

“Fuck, Lute, ‘m close,” You moan, mostly to yourself. You thought about throwing in an insult at the end, after all, it seemed like the only way you were able to hear each other, but you decided against it.

She didn’t need to hear you, but you did bask, like her in your desperation, in her cries below you. Despite the immense, and probably foreign pleasure she felt, the jeers never stopped. 

Even in an intamiate moment like this, she was still the “mediocre angel” and you were the “vile demon.” And even closest to both of your climaxes, you were sure to remind each other. 

But it was then that both of you realized, between the switching of positions and roles, the year long build-up to the final ‘winner’ was worthless. 

The fight, just as usual, was a draw.

a/n — THE SONG TITLE WAS ‘Tear You Apart’ BY SHE WANTS REVENGE BY THE WAY. Boy, this one’s been in drafts for a long time.

I forgot how much fun it was to ruthlessly project onto characters! I have no one to thank but my life for being so terrible and confusing and awful and terrible and

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel smut #dom reader #inbox open #sub reader #lute x reader #lute x you #hazbin lute x reader #hazbin hotel lute x reader

[equestriagirl16]

NRC staff and their guardian status with MC~🌹

Notes: personal headcannons cause I absolutely cannot get enough of the NCR staff being caretakers/parental figures to MC. It’s just so wholesome to me, and a lot of this isn’t new info just my take on said renowned info.

Inspired by: @wolken-himmel @hunniepotts @adrianasunderworld @mashed-potato101

Dads: Crewel and Crowley

It’s basically canon at this point that our dear professor would assume the main dad role.

He would have a long history of taking care of “unruly pups”, and having you come around like a lost stray in need of proper training. Well he just couldn’t help himself now could he?

Spoils the hell out of you, yes he would take you out shopping for actual clothes and necessities, yes he would pay for everything, and no you absolutely do not owe him anything in return. Would probably get genuinely upset if you insisted.

Would be the dad to actually remind you, in a reassuring way, that you are in fact a child/young so you really shouldn’t carry the world on your shoulders at least not by yourself.

Fairly overprotective and strict, he only wants the absolute best for and from you. Which means unfortunately you won’t get a sliver of favoritism in class, and no amount of batting eyes or cute little excuses in baby talk is gonna change that. “Well you should’ve thought of that when I specifically gave you a weeks notice before the assignment went out pup.” And then he pats you on the head with his stick(affectionately).

No dating no boys no nothing, in fact no friends. Just spend your time with your loving father figure, he’s sure that’d be much better for your mental health. “I hate men.” “But you are one.” “My point still stands.” He’s spent more time around the student body than you have so he knows, LORD does he know, that plenty of them will leave you worse for wear despite how nice of a person they are. And if anyone, no matter who they might be, leaves his little pup sad and whimpering. He’ll make sure to remind them why he adorns the name of Crewel.

But at the end of the day he absolutely loves you, and you bring a special light in his life too. He may be a little young for it(in his words), but a set of adoption papers happen to make his way on his internet browser more times than he can ignore. Only if you’d like, perhaps he could bring the proposition up in conversation during your next shopping spree.

Oooooh Crowley, honestly this is mostly because he was the first adult to find you. We all know how this man operates, and yet he’ll insist that he takes care of you like his own child! *looks into the camera*

The man is on the complete other end of the dad spectrum. Ya know instead of responsible and nurturing he’s more so flighty and excitable. Literally just- “We gon need nutrition.” “So your kid likes apple juice?” “Oh no they love orange juice, but they’ve been bad this week.” “What grade is your kid in?” “Sixteenth grade.” “That’s not even a grade!-So they graduated college?” “No they…where is my kid??” He left you in the grocery store…again.

Don’t get him wrong though, he can step up to the challenge when need be, he’s still a whole principal. If anything he’ll at least make sure your academics are in line and your school life is decent, and thankfully he does play favorites!

However he definitely values independence, and just tends to think you can handle things on your own and believes a ton in your potential. Much to both your favor and detriment, sure there’s nothing you can’t handle but that doesn’t mean you should handle it all at once!

Does get serious when the situation calls for it. Like if you’re legitimately broken up about anything, or just in a bad place the secret dad switch in the far reaches of his brain finally switch into hyper gear. He can catch the slightest wind of it, and he’ll be the first one there to comfort you which he’s surprisingly good at. Both in physical comfort and advice, it gets you every single time.

He would never let you know this, nor could you really guess, but he would do anything for you. You mixed up his life in a very unexpected and interesting way, and even if he’s not good at showing it he does love you very much. Man would kill for you. Die for you though? Hmm, give him a sec to think.

Uncles: Vargas and Sam

To me he comes off as someone who definitely cares about you but doesn’t show it on as intimate of a level if that makes sense. He’s a gym bro, he shows his affection more in words of motivation and making you run just a few more laps. Cmon, he believes in you!

Obviously he values your physical health, but also because he knows that can translate into mental health. He may not be there for everything but he does what he can in the time he has with you.

Honestly he probably just figures that you already have a lot of people looking out for you, and he doesn’t want to overstep. So he’ll stay in his lane and make sure you’re working at maximum efficiency.

Of course that doesn’t mean he won’t be there for you when you need it. Is also ever so slightly protective, but aims to lift you back onto your feet more than anything. He knows your someone deserving of respect so he’s gonna remind you of that every time he has the chance, and won’t stop until your confidence is through the roof. “Come on, you’re really gonna let them tear you down like that! Remember what I taught you, no one’s strong like Y/N!”

But if you need a hug then maybe, just maybe, he’ll sweep you up and jostle you around until you’re too dizzy to even remember you were sad. You’re a rarity in this world, and you’re just as capable as anyone else. As long as he’s around he’ll never let you forget that.

Also, head pats for days and 100% calls you kid.

I feel like I barely have to even explain this one. It’s Sam, he’s younger and more extravagant. Not rly dad material, he gives off more older relative/big brother vibes.

He’s got his own stuff going on plus a shop to run, he may not be around you 24/7 but would definitely encourage you to stop by and visit literally anytime. He absolutely loves your company and showing you all his little tips and tricks.

You can guarantee he’d sometimes let you’d off the hook when paying for supplies, for no particular reason at all of course. “I’m closing up shop for the night anyway, now run along little imp ‘fore the shadows get ya!”

Likes teasing you, just playful little pranks and jabs to keep you on your toes. Would never dream of doing anything remotely malicious, even does check-ins if your reaction isn’t the happiest.

Speaking of check-ins, I feel like he’d ask you about how things are going every single time you visit him. Since he’s on the younger side too he’d definitely be more in the know about how to deal with certain things, and give you more down to earth advice. The jump from free spirited shop keep to serious guardian is wild.

Also for any of my black/poc MCs out there, he has your back(especially if you were homesick). Another fully welcomed slice of culture, I have a personal headacannon that he’d be extremely helpful on hair days too. Not to say no one else is, but he would take pride in you sticking close to your roots(heh, get it). As well as picking out really cool styles for you. Maybe even have some spells to let you color it, the possibilities are endless.

A little protective but he doesn’t outright distrust anyone neither believes in shielding you. You gotta fight you’re own battles, but that doesn’t mean he won’t be there every step of the way. When you’re knocked down he’ll pick you right back up, now equipped with a few new tricks up your sleeve. And perhaps on some days many may notice that you have more than one shadow following behind you.

Loves you to death and beyond that, he’ll make sure everyday is full of laughs and you have what you need to stand out from the rest.

GRANDPA TREIN

This man has gray hairs, years of wisdom, and put multiple kids through college. He has earned this category.

I want to say since he already has a family of his own he wouldn’t completely take you in, but he’d definitely put you under his wing. Simply put he owns most the brain cells between all the staff, so he’d know not only how to but for your own sake that he should take care of you.

The amount of times he’s had to steer you away from the advice of a certain principal, and to be the guy to refute the extra baggage anybody put on you is ridiculous. “But Crowley wanted me to get the supplies from the town this weekend, and then I have to host a tutoring session with the guys, and run another errand-” “You’re not doing that.” “But-” “No buts, none of it. Now sit down and finish your tea, I fear you’ll collapse if you think for another second.” Firmly believes no one as young as you should be dealing with the sheer amount of bullsh!t you deal with. And trust that he’s seen a lot of it in his time working at that place.

He’s the epitome of responsible caretaker, will set your priorities straight and be very transparent with you. If your getting too distracted to focus on your academics, or putting yourself last after everything/everybody you have to deal with. He won’t hold back, you’re apart of the equation, the most important part.

He’s also very well versed in the emotional aspects of a young ones life too. Sure he’s not the most touchy feely type, but on like a psychological level he understands and gives arguably the best and most proactive advice.

This isn’t his first rodeo, honestly a lot of it is just second nature to him. He just has a lot of sympathy for you and your situation, and despite his demeanor he’s not one to leave a literal stranded child to fend for themselves. He’s a professor not a monster, and of course you remind him a lot of his prime parenting days. Which he’s secretly very fond of.

He won’t say it out loud, well at least not in front of other people. Perhaps during a nice quiet evening in his office he’ll tell you how genuinely proud he is of you and your progress. You’ll always have a means of support in him, but don’t misunderstand him he doesn’t play favorites.(yes he does)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland mc #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst mc #twst x reader #twst crewel #divus crewel #twst crowley #dire crowley #twst vargas #ashton vargas #twst sam #twisted wonderland sam #twst trein #mozus trein #disney twisted wonderland #nrc staff #twisted wonderland crewel #twisted wonderland crowley #twisted wonderland vargas #twisted wonderland trein #twisted wonderland x you #twst x you #twst x mc #camiposts

[cyberfreaky]

dilf!jake knows you have a crush on him & likes to test you p2 <33

part one!! reposting this for @verymuch777 xoxo

you took a deep breath in before turning the corner into jake’s marui, watching him expertly load his weapons made your thighs squeeze together in shame. you hadn’t had the gull to face him after the antics that occurred during supper a few nights ago — but a large part of you yearned for him so heavily that you forced yourself to visit him. you’d spent a decent amount of time trying to replicate the slither of pleasure that jake had given you, pathetically rutting against your nimble fingers after eclipse while picturing the former olo’eyktan above you. wishing it was him corrupting you senselessly.

a few moments passed before you spoke up, barely above a whisper. “hi, jake.”

your shaking voice made jake’s ear perk up with excitement, a devious smirk growing on his lips. he’d been patiently waiting for you to come running back, begging for him to act upon his promise. he placed his gun beneath the woven mat, soon turning to behold himself with your blushing face. “hey, pretty girl.” jake smiled, reviling in the way you squirmed from his mere compliment. “where’ve you been hidin’?”

“i’ve been busy, uh, with stuff.” you lied, anxiously playing with the hem of your sarong. you could barely keep eye contact with jake at this point — his presence alone sent shivers down your spine.

he hummed in response, clearly not believing a word you had said. you watched his tall frame waltz over to the other side of the pod, taking a seat on the carved bench. “m’sure you’ve been busy, kid.” jake’s tone was satirical, outwardly mocking your boldfaced lie. he patted the empty space on his lap, inviting you to take a seat. “c’mere, tell me whats ‘gotcha so busy.”

“i..i shouldn’t, i just. i just wanted to say hello.” you struggled to speak, words stacked upon each other as you tried to deny his request. you hadn’t even realised how flushed you’d become, your twiddling thumbs and stuttered speech proving to jake how wrapped you were around his finger.

“just for a minute, yeah? i’ve missed m’girl.” jake crooned.

you gave in, sheepishly walking over to him as his amber eyes followed you with amusement. you pondered for a moment, second-guessing your decision before silently perching yourself on jake’s thigh. your legs dangled on either side with your back pressed against his chest, even while seated — he still managed to dwarf you.

jake laid his chin on your shoulder, running his callous hands up and down your plush thighs as you relaxed into your position. “mm, feelin’ a little tense, huh?” he cooed into your ear, leaving a gentle kiss on the lobe. your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, purring like a kitten as jake massaged your soft skin. “gonna tell me where you’ve been lately?”

“i told you, i’ve been busy.”

“you’re a bad liar.” jake taunted, dipping his hands closer between your legs. his fingers danced across your inner thighs, purposefully avoiding the area you desperately wanted him to touch. the scent of your growing arousal filled jake senses, only furthering his desire to corrupt you. “bet you’ve been busy doin’ something else.”

your breath hitched as you felt his hand slide into your loincloth, large palm cupping your warm cunt. jake’s breath was hot on your skin, pressing wet kisses alongside the curve of your neck. “you’ve been playing with this pretty pussy, haven’t ‘ya?” you whimpered beneath him, covering your face in embarrassment.

jake laughed at your coyness, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your swelling clit. “anngh!” you squealed, biting hard onto your bottom lip as his thumb began to rub firm circles.

“knew you were.” he huffed, eyes darkening at the view of your screwed up expression. jake hadn’t been able to take his mind off you since the night, escaping into secluded areas to relieve himself whenever given the chance. he’d fantasise about you riding him, his large guiding your hips on top of him as you grind sensually on his pulsing cock. the fact that you were likely imagining him while touching yourself only heightened his mouth-watering neediness.

his long fingers explored your slick folds, collecting your nectar around his digits. “poor baby, bet you touched yourself thinkin’ of me.” jake plunged two fingers inside you, stretching your tight walls with a pleasurable sting. you couldn’t contain the lewd moans that escaped your throat, your mewls only growing stronger once he began to pump himself in and out slowly.

your head lulled back into jake’s shoulder, the feeling between your trembling legs made you see stars. “wishin’ i was there to fuck you, huh?” jake nipped at your earlobe, his other hand grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him. you could barely see him through your half-lidded eyes — the wave of overwhelming pleasure fogged your vision almost entirely. “tell me, doll.” jake grunted, increasing his devilish pace.

“yes!” you blabbered between moans, eyes rolling into the back of your head. the marui was filled with the erotic sound of your squelching cunt, mixed with the sinful cries of pleasure that left your pretty, little mouth. “never felt as good as this.” you admit coyly — your confession coming out as an embarrassed whisper.

jake grinned smugly at your words, relishing selfishly in the way he made you feel. “is that right?” he’d taunt, warm breath just above your flattened ear. “mm, all this jus’ fr’me, huh?” jake slapped your bundle of nerves, making you jolt in response. you drove him crazy, having you sat on his lap and making a complete mess right above his stiff cock was a fantasy come to life.

he was knuckle deep inside you, hitting your most sensitive spots that made your body jolt. he could feel your gummy walls clench around his pumping fingers, already sensing the growing orgasm he was coaxing out deliciously. “christ, kid.” jake chuckled, rubbing circles into your sensitive bud again. “gonna come already, huh?” the overstimulating sensation made you thrash beneath his grip, your thighs clamping shut.

your pitched moans were hushed by jake’s mouth, he swallowed the boundless pleasure into his throat with a sloppy kiss. you lazily parted your bitten lips, allowing his tongue to slip past. you felt almost filthy as you chased his passion, your wet lips moulding perfectly with his own. this moment was immoral — so awfully taboo. but your judgement was clouded by the butterflies that fluttered within your tummy, distracting you from the inevitable guilt you’d feel for giving in so easily to your temptations.

“jake, j-jake, fuck!” you squeal, an exhilarating rush of solace overtaking you. your legs began to shake as your climax came to a standpoint, about to consume you completely. your watery eyes fluttered close as you lost control of your body, nails digging into the rough skin of jake’s thigh.

jake smirked as his skilled hands worked on you, rings of salacious white circled around his fingers. “that’s it, hon.” he whispered, pumping his coated digits and curling them inside your stretched cunt. “make a mess fr’me.”

a warmth washes over you, all the tension had dissolved into a state of euphoria. a pool of slick dripped out from your swollen pussy, pouring decadently into jake’s lap just as instructed. your breath had been snatched away as you rested against jake’s chest, struggling to catch any form of air. you’d grown accustomed to the fullness of his fingers inside you, whining pathetically once they slid out of your entrance and into your mouth unexpectedly.

you were too hazy to debate, tiredly sucking your arousal off jake as he hummed in satisfaction. “good girl.” he admires, pulling his digits away and pressing his lips against yours once more. your taste fuelled both your senses, the sweetness shared between your gaping mouths as you kissed one another passionately.

— all rights reserved © cyberfreaky (2023) do not repost, translate or copy my work without given permission.

#queued !! #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader smut #jake sully x you #jake sully fanfic #jake sully fanfiction #jake sully headcanon #dilf jake sully #avatar #avatar 2009 #atwow #avatar smut #avatar x reader

[floswife]

𝗛𝗔𝗟𝗟𝗪𝗔𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦-𝗛𝗝𝗣 𝗫 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗢𝗖

Warnings: Fluff, Gaslighting, James possessing Harry

Pairing: Harry James Potter X Ravenclaw!OC

Author’s Note: Idk I just wrote this for me so it’s not really plot heavy, it’s set in fifth year but there’s not any mention of the DA or Umbitch

Summary: Juliette Rosewood, a Muggleborn Ravenclaw witch. She had never thought she’d me destined for much trouble, that was until a certain raven haired Gryffinfor decided to take a liking to her.

It was another day at Hogwarts and Juliette was late to Potions. Again.

But was it really her fault that the damned stairs moved randomly? She braced herself for a scolding, it was fifth year and her O.W.L.S were just around the corner, that and the fact that she wasn’t a Slytherin would surely lead to Snape ripping into her. A sure equation to a sizeable amount of points to be docked from her house.

She entered the classroom with her long dark curls flowing behind her in a frenzy, she frantically looked around the class for a free seat and saw that there was only one left next to Hogwarts’ resident celebrity/troublemaker, Harry Potter.

As Snape’s back was turned she crept to the seat, Harry giving her an amused look.

Snape turned around and his eyes immediately zeroed in on her, “Miss Rosewood, did you arrive just now?”

Juliette shrugged, “I was here this whole time sir. I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Harry stifled a laugh behind his palm.

Snaps narrowed his eyes, “You were late.”

Juliette feigned a look of offence, “That is a vile accusation sir.”

Snape visibly angered, “Alright, what is it that I was just talking about right now?”

“Draught of living death.” Harry murmured to her in a voice so low it was only audible to her from behind his palm.

“Draught of living death, sir.” She said with a sickly sweet smile before giving Harry a thankful look.

The rest of the class watched in amusement as Snape visibly questioned his sanity.

He turned to Harry who gave his best innocent look that almost made Juliette burst out in laughter, “Potter, tell me, was Miss Rosewood here this whole time?”

Harry nodded, “Yes she was sir, you should get Madam Pomfrey to check your memory.”

The whole class stifled a laugh as Snape turned red, “That won’t be needed. Everyone turn to page 177, I want a bottle of the draught of living death made by you and your seat partner on my desk by the end of this lesson or else detentions will be given.”

The whole class groaned and got the ingredients needed for the potion.

Juliette turned to Harry, “Thank you for that, by the way, you didn’t need to do that.”

Harry shrugged, “Anything to pull one over Snape, right?”

Juliette laughed in agreement, “seriously, I owe you one.” Harry smiled at her and the two spent the rest of the lesson laughing and teasing each other, talking about meaningless things and just enjoying each other’s company, surprisingly they even managed to get a decent draught of living death on Snape’s desk and didn’t get detention.

Oh how she’d regret those words.

Juliette was proud to have been named prefect of her house, both her parents were muggles and many didn’t expect much of her. However, when she received the letter and the shiny blue pin, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfilment.

Now, as she did her nighttime patrols, she no longer felt that fulfilment but only an overwhelming sense of tiredness and boredom. Seriously, shouldn’t this be considered as child labour? Dumbledore ought to hire some more damned teachers.

The dulled haze she fell into as she trudged along the hallway, her wand alight making the portraits shout some rather rude things at her, fell once she heard hurried footsteps along the corridor she was in.

She laughed to herself at the poor soul running down this corridor, knowing it was a dead end.

She then saw a familiar head of raven hair and bright green eyes and round glasses and she forced herself to suppress a groan of frustration.

Does this boy ever have a normal day at Hogwarts?

Harry looked relieved to see her and stopped by her as she looked at him with wide eye, his cheeks were slightly flushed from the running as she looked up at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“Do you ever just… follow the rules?” She hissed at him, not even wanting to ask who he was running away from.

Harry feigned a look of deep though before nonchalantly shrugging, “No, I don’t think i do.”

She just rolled her eyes and she grew even more annoyed when she heard distance footsteps clattering after him and a distant, “Potter!”

Harry’s eyes widened and she gave him a deadpan stare, her eyes sleepy, “who was that and what did you do?”

He took in a sharp breath, “That would be some Slytherin prefect looking for an excuse to put me in detention, and as for what I did…” he trailed off before flashing a charming grin that affected her more than she would care to admit, “that’s on a need to know basis.”

Juliette pinched the bridge of her nose, evidently too tired to be dealing with this.

As the footsteps drew closer he visibly grew more panicked before turning to her, “you said you owe me right?”

Her brows knit together in confusion and before she could even open her mouth to speak, his arms had wrapped around her waist and pulled her flush against his body, his lips pressing against hers.

She gasped in surprise and kissed him back nonetheless, one hand cupped his jaw while the other loved to run through his messy raven locks.

The footsteps drew closer and then drew to a halt right before them, a gasp could be heard and then a rushed, “sorry.” Was muttered before the person ran off again.

It was then that Juliette pulled away from Harry, though still stayed in his arms, not quite ready to leave his warmth yet.

She knew that her face was probably bright red at that moment, feeling the hot blood pound in her ears. Harry had a dazed look on his face and a goofy grin spread across it.

Juliette smiled softly at him before realising that he had only kissed her to avoid detention, so she stepped out of his grasp.

Harry frowned slightly, his arms feeling empty without her.

“So, this makes us even now?” She gave him a small polite smile.

He blinked a few times, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out, “Um yes of course! Brilliant.”

She hummed before giving him a pointed look, “now go straight back to your dorm before you kiss some other unsuspecting prefect.”

He blushed, giving her a bashful look, “I would never dream of it, only you get the privilege.”

Her heart sped up slightly at the words, “Goodnight then, you flirt.”

He chuckled, “Goodnight darling.”

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry james potter #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fluff #harry potter fic #hp fanfcition #hp fic #harry potter fanfic #harry james potter x reader #harry potter x oc #harry potter x fem!reader #daniel radcliffe #ravenclaw #ravenclaw oc #ravenclaw x gryffindor #daniel radcliffe x reader #daniel radcliffe gif #order of the phoenix #hjp #fem oc #hogwarts aesthetic #hogwarts houses #tooth rotting fluff #idiots being idiots #idiots to lovers #wizard #wizarding world

[anathemaloren]

flowers and tea

Naomi McPherson x fem!florist!reader

🌼Warnings - 2 curse words? and english is not my first language

🌼Genre - fluff (i guess)

🌼Word count - 3.4k (WHAT?!)

🌼Notes - OH MY GOD, you don't know how much time I've spent writing this like 3k words???? that's just crazy. also, i wrote this in several classes at school, sorry arturo, montse and chus 🙏🏼 and this is dedicated to carolina who tried to peek into the story and i didn't let her, luv ya bubs

Having her own shop was a dream and a nightmare at the same time for Y/n L/n.  Paying the bills, keeping the flowers beautiful the whole day through, being all day on her feet or dealing with rude costumers were all things Y/n wished she could get rid of. But at the same time, she truly loved her job. Being able to surround herself with flowers was a dream come true, and seeing a smile on the face of a happy customer really made her day. Plus, the shop was in a strategic place in Los Angeles where sometimes famous people came through, and she even had a few celebrities who were usual shoppers. Lucy Dacus stopped from time to time to buy flowers in order to dry them, and considered Y/n a friend. Pedro Pascal always bought flowers for his sister from Y/n, and Ashton Irwin loved to stop by for a chat about how to keep his plants as beautiful as Y/n’s. So, Y/n shouldn’t fall easily for a star, right?

          It was a slow day, so Y/n busied herself rearranging flowers on the back of the shop. She was calmly arranging a bouquet of lilies when she heard the bell on top of the door and a pair of shoes rushing in. Curious about who would come bursting in like that, she lowered the volume of the Glenn Miller vinyl that was playing on the background and stepped into the front of the shop while cleaning her hands on her apron. She then saw a person looking like they had run for 10 kilometres, with curls sticking to their red face, and trying to catch some air.

          “Hi.” Y/n said calmly “Can I help you with something?” she asked. “Yeah, I think you would be unbelievably helpful right now” they said, making Y/n chuckle amused. “Tell me, what can I do for you?” she said, taking her notebook out, just in case she needed to write something down. The person standing on the other side of the counter leaned a bit on it and tried to arrange the curls around their head. “It’s my mum’s birthday, and I’ve been so busy that I completely forgot about buying her something, and I love her very much I can’t just not buy her anything, and I’m meeting her tonight, I can’t show up empty handed” they said without stopping, catching a quick deep breath “. So Lucy told me to come here and say to you that she sent me and that you could arrange something with flowers that have meaning for, like… now… could you?” they finished, looking expectantly at Y/n. The girl just blinked a few times, taking all the information in. “Which Lucy sent you?��� she asked, testing the person’s connection to her, not truly trusting them yet, even though they looked like a decent person to her. “Ummm… Lucy Dacus?” they said, with caution. Y/n visibly lighted up, smiling at the thought of the black haired girl recommending her to her friends. “Well, you should’ve started with that.” She said, turning around and starting to walk to the back of the shop, turning around again to gesture to the still nameless person to follow her back.

          If the front of the shop was a dream, full of aromatic plants and antique furniture, the back of it was another level of etherealism. Besides another huge amount of plants and flowers, one wall was a window wall, made out of old looking stained glass of art déco style. There was a table with two chairs were Y/n would have tea, sometimes with someone else, and behind the table there was a bookshelf with heaps of books about flowers and their care and meanings. In the middle of the room there was a worktable with a few half-arranged bouquets of lilies of different colours. Y/n moved with ease around the space, and she turned to face the stranger once she got to the workbench, only to find said stranger with their mouth half opened in awe.

          “Are you okay?” Y/n asked, slightly amused with the reaction she was witnessing. The stranger blinked a few times as if to come out of some sort of trance, and responded after centering themselves in the conversation again “Yeah, yeah, fine” they said, making Y/n’s smile a bit brighter. “I’m Naomi, by the way” the stranger said, finally giving a name to the curious person. “Oh, yeas, from Muna, right?” Y/n said, eliciting a nod from Naomi. “Lucy has told me so much about all of you, I don’t know how I couldn’t recognize you the moment you walked in” she said, making Naomi smile a bit. “She really talks about me to you?” Naomi asked, feeling a wave of affection for their friend. “Yeah, she talks about all of you all the time” Y/n said, giggling a bit “. I almost feel like I know you personally sometimes, although meeting you in person makes me realize she forgot to mention some things” she said, standing behind the working table and moving the flowers around to make space for others. “Like what?” Naomi asked, furrowing their brows, thinking that maybe they had given a terrible first impression, when they had been mesmerized with Y/n since they had seen her. The girl standing opposite to them smiled at them coyly before saying nonchalantly “For starters, she forgot to mention you are even more handsome on real life than on pictures.” The comment made the curly haired blush, not expecting the sweet looking florist to be so flirty and straightforward.

          Naomi’s reaction made Y/n giggle, feeling like she couldn’t stop smiling around them. She didn’t know where the confidence to be so bold had come from, either. She then decided to stop messing around and get to work. “So” she said, clearing her throat before continuing ´´, what did you want for your mum?” Naomi shook their head for a second, pulling themselves together about the flirty comment from before, and answered the question “I truly don’t know, I just want to tell her I love her, and flowers seemed like a good option” they said, being truly bad at flowers. “So you want to send a message with these flowers” Y/n said, looking at Naomi attentively. “Yeah, basically” they answered, doubting a bit about the rightness of their answer. “Well, if you want I can arrange a bouquet with flowers that mean that you love her” Y/n smiled, always loving to do bouquets with deep meanings. “Do you mean flowers mean something specific?” Naomi asked, making Y/n clutch her pearls in feigned offense. “Of course they do! That’s my job you’re talking about!” she said, making Naomi laugh. Y/n smiled and walked over to the bookshelf, picking up and old-looking book, with a pink cover and golden details.

          Y/n sat down on one of the chairs of the table, signalling Naomi to sit in the other one. The florist browsed through the book, in which Naomi could only see beautiful illustrations and paragraphs of what they could guess was information about the flowers in the other page. When Y/n finally had all the information she needed, she closed the book and looked up, only to find the curly haired brunet already looking at her. This discovery made the girl blush and Naomi look away immediately, embarrassed about being caught. Y/n decided not to panic, clearing her throat before speaking “I think I’ve found the ideal flowers” she said “. If you follow me, I can show them to you” she continued, while standing up, already blushing a bit again. Where had all the previous confidence gone? The person now standing in front of her was truly messing with her emotions, and they had only met for roughly 25 minutes, even less.

          Y/n waltzed around the room picking up flowers, oblivious to the mesmerized client who was following her. She picked up the flowers and explained their meanings to Naomi “White carnations mean purity, love and beauty; the azaleas are a symbol of womanhood in China, and they are a symbol of love; daisies symbolize purity and innocence; and camellias represent gratitude and longevity” Although Naomi seemed like they were just hypnotized about the girl’s beauty, her words were also enthralling to them. After coming back with the flowers to the worktable, Y/n asked Naomi about their opinion, at which they could only stutter an OK, making the girl working in the bouquet blush and giggle.

          When she finished the bouquet, the mixture of carnations, daisies, azaleas and camellias looked beautiful. Y/n’s talent was something that had Naomi’s mouth open in amazement. Their head couldn’t wrap around the fact that two hands and a few flowers had given such result, the florist’s talent oozing from every aspect of the bouquet. Besides from the big possibility of their mum loving the bouquet, Naomi had also fallen in love with the care and talent Y/n had shown making it. Maybe they had also fallen for the hands responsible of such beauty, and the person who controlled them with so much grace.

          Y/n finished wrapping the bouquet, not really wanting Naomi to leave her shop. But she knew she couldn’t stop a big ass pop star that surely wasn’t going to fall for her. “I think this is finished” she said, nerves flowing through her whole body. “We can go to the front now” she continued, now moving to the front of the shop, bouquet in hand. While Naomi paid with her card, Y/n finished preparing the gift. When she turned around to get the business card she always gave out to first time clients, she hesitated when deciding what complimentary flower to give to Naomi. She finally chose a lavender coloured rose. She nervously put the flower and the card in a bag with the flowers. She didn’t know why she was so shaken, Naomi probably didn’t share her feelings; for fuck’s sake, they had known each other for something more than an hour. When Y/n gave the bag to Naomi their fingers brushed ever so slightly, which resulted in different reactions; Y/n let out a sigh, while Naomi froze immediately. When the florist realized they had spent more time than necessary in that position, she put her hand back as Naomi’s suddenly burned. They just blinked a few times, blushed, turned back and marched through the door mustering a rushed thanks and a farewell. Y/n sighed when Naomi was finally out, leaning on the counter and placing her head between her hands. What a naïve thought, that someone like Naomi McPherson could ever like someone like her. Now, she just had to move on, and try to forget about them.

Lucy Dacus had decided to have a quiet night. She had a nice dinner, placed a few candles and played some soft background music. She then picked up her current read, and with a cup of a delicious tea that Y/n had suggested her, she got ready to relax, plunging down on the armchair she loved the most. That relaxing, though, didn’t last long, as she heard the doorbell ring. She groaned, detangling herself and getting up to open the door. If it was her annoying neighbour again, she was ready to throw hands. However, when she opened the door, there was no nosy neighbour on the other side; instead, Naomi was there, nervously biting her nails, and looking a bit miserable. “Naomi? What are you doing here? Are you okay?” Lucy asked, worried about her friend’s state. “Where the fuck did you send me?” they just said, spreading their arms exasperated. “What?” Lucy just said, sincerely confused. Seeing as the only answer from Naomi was a pair of widened eyes, which lead to Lucy sighing and moving from the door, signalling Naomi to come in. Goodbye, quiet night.

          After a cup of tea, Naomi had calmed down, and they had told Lucy about those afternoon events. “And when I finished dinner with my mum I needed to vent, and as you were the one who told me to go to her, I just…” they finished, trailing down at the end. Lucy nodded in understanding, not needing to hear more from her friend before concluding “So basically, you fell head over heels for her and you think she doesn’t correspond your feelings”. Naomi just mustered a “yeah” while dropping their head in defeat. Lucy nodded again, leaning back on the armchair she was sitting in. “Well, we can kind of know how she feels about you” she said, smiling softly, making Naomi shoot their head up, waiting for a solution for their problems. “Did you keep the flower she gave you with her card?” Lucy said, already knowing the answer. Naomi slowly reached for a pocket in their jacket, taking out a lavender rose. Lucy got up and moved towards a shelf next to a window, where she saw rain starting to pour. She took a book from the shelf, under the curious stare of her friend. The book was a Victorian guide to flower meanings, which Lucy had somehow managed to thrift. She looked through the book sat on the armchair again. She could feel Naomi biting their nails and looking nervously at her. Finally, she found it. “It says here that lavender roses mean…” Lucy stopped, looking kindly at the meaning “It’s a flower that represents enchantment love at first sight” she said, looking again at Naomi, whose mouth was now partly opened in shock and eyes completely opened. They quickly recomposed and started shaking their head in denial. “Come on, Dacus, stop playing” they said, not believing what Lucy was saying. “I’m not” Lucy replied, showing the book to them. Naomi was feeling a weird mix of emotions, between shock, denial and complete confusion, with a tint of utter affection. Was this some kind of sick and twisted joke?

          Naomi got up and started pacing Lucy’s living room, not sure about what that really meant. They knew they had liked Y/n, call it love at first sight if you feel like it, but something had bloomed in that flower shop, and not only the plants. Lucy closed the book and laid back, deciding to leave Naomi to walk around and calm down. They finally did, sitting across Lucy again. Taking a deep breath, the curly haired talked for the first time in the last few minutes, breaking the silence that had settled itself on the room, mixed with the sound of drops of the still pouring rain. “What do you think I should do?” they asked Lucy for advice, with a hint of somewhat fear on their voice. “I can’t decide anything for you” Lucy said, shaking their head. “I’m not asking for instructions, Luce, I want your opinion” Naomi said, in a soft tone. Lucy sighed and leaned towards her friend “Do you like Y/n?” she asked, not really expecting a forward answer. “Yeah, I think I do” Naomi said with a sincere voice, astounding Lucy, who blinked and talked again. “Do you want to tell her that?” “I think I do” they replied again. Lucy questioned Naomi for a third time “I have her address. Do you want me to give it to you?” she said, and spoke again before Naomi could say anything “And don’t say that you think you do” she half-threatened. Her friend closed their mouth, opening it not much of a second later “I truly want her address” Lucy nodded, getting up to write it on a blue piece of paper. When she finished, she folded it and gave it to Naomi, who was standing up, nervously playing with their fingers. The moment they had the paper, they gave a heartfelt hug to Lucy, and then sprinted to the door. Lucy saw them get into their car and smiled softly. She didn’t mind a night not so quiet if it was for the sake of romance.

Y/n was laying on her couch, one feet dangling off it. She laid there, looking at pictures of Naomi on Pinterest, although if someone asked, she was reading the Rilke book that was now laying on the coffee table next to her. She sighed, turning her phone off and keeping to staring to the ceiling. How was she so stupid that she had been so enchanted by someone who had been in her store for an hour. She stood up and picked up the book, deciding it was enough pining for someone she probably would never see again. She read a few pages, but didn’t last long before putting the book in her lap and looking out the window. She looked at the pouring rain, which she loved. She knew she should hate the rain, but she loved the romanticism of it all, even though she knew she would never have her ever so idyllic love confession in the rain.

          Just as she was lost on her thoughts, Y/n heard the doorbell ring. She wondered who the hell would be knocking at that time in the night, even more with that terrible weather, which truly didn’t invite to going out. She kept wondering who it could be as she walked to the door, expecting to see a neighbour or someone trying to sell her some stupid product. However, the only person she found waiting outside of her house was a drenched Naomi. Y/n’s eyes opened wide as she took the sigh in, with her breath getting caught in her throat.

          Y/n talked, although the lump she felt on her throat made it a bit difficult. “What are you doing here?” she said, not being able to move herself from her spot on the door entrance. “I needed to see you” they said, with a tint of hopelessness in their voice. Y/n felt like flowers were blooming in her stomach, with the leaves and petals tickling her stomach. “How did you know where I lived?” Y/n asked again, nerves now flowing through her system. Naomi looked a bit guilty before answering “Lucy gave it to me, I asked her for it”. Y/n made a mental note of scolding her later, but asked the last question she couldn’t stop pondering about. “And why did you want to see me, Naomi?” she said, not sure if she wanted to hear the response. Naomi breathed deeply before replying. “I like you” they said, making Y/n’ world turn upside down in a matter of microseconds. She tried to calm down her breath, that was now working, but too fast for anyone’s liking.

          However, Naomi misinterpreted the silence, thinking that Y/n was somewhat outraged by the statement, apologizing while moving back to what Y/n suspected was their car “I’m sorry, this was a mistake”. Y/n snapped back then, following Naomi to their car with a quick pace “Naomi, wait!” she said, trying to get Naomi to look at her. The curly haired, which hair was now not so curly as it was soaked and stuck to their face, turned around and looked at her with a pained look on their face. Y/n tried to find the words, but they seemed to be stuck to the walls of her throat. Naomi exhaled, turning back once more to unlock their car. Seeing as the opportunity of confessing was slipping through her fingers, Y/n decided to take matter in her own hands… literally. She got closer to Naomi and took their face into their hands, pulling them in for a kiss. The kiss was short and sweet, and Y/n pulled away to see what reaction that had elicited from Naomi. They just stared at Y/n with a look of shock on their face, that didn’t last so long, as their brain decided to finally act. Naomi took Y/n face in her hands and kissed her again, now deepening the kiss. The moment under the rain seemed to last forever, as both their hearts synchronized in loud thumps. When they finally pulled away from one another, the rain kept pouring over them with an astounding force that seemed to mimic the strength of their feelings for one another. They were both soaked as they stood outside of Y/n’s house, smiling to each other like the infatuated idiots that they were.

          “I liked the flower” Naomi said, still not getting away from one another. Y/n laughed, touching her forehead with Naomi’s. “It was not as subtle as I intended it to, I guess” she said, making Naomi laugh now. “I liked it better that way” they voiced, giving a small kiss to the side of Y/n lips. It that was a dream, they both hope they would never wake up.

#naomi mcpherson #naomi mcpherson x reader #naomi mcpherson fluff #naomi mcpherson fic #naomi mchpherson fanfic #naomi mcpherson imagine

[damnedrainbows]

*

@top-shelf-tender

All things considering, he’d been having a decent day before this had shaken him. Alastor had spent the morning with Niffty, entertaining her whims for a tea party. He’d spent most of the day secluded in his office, reviewing paperwork and some surprising sponsors that were interested in the hotel. He’d been kicked back with some coffee and simple biscuits, laconically outstretched in one of his favorite chairs. It had been a placid day; nice and calm. He hadn’t even wanted to answer the door when he was told he had a package.

The radio demon knew no good could ever come from that, not with the amount of enemies he’d amassed in these decades. Sometimes they’d been quite creative. It could be good for a laugh if he didn’t find himself disgustingly underpowered with these unclipped wings.

Wings. How funny that was in his thought train when he opened the box. What an interesting coincidence, almost like intuition. It barely took a moment to decipher when he saw the severed appendages. He knew the brilliant pattern like the back of his hand. Warm feathers that he’d found draping over him on quite a few occasions. Feathers that he loved to toy with; pluck one or two out to piss off the owner. Feathers he’d preened, patterns he’d adored. Feathers that Niffty had constantly complained about during their shed—it didn’t look like she’d be complaining anymore.

Alastor barely realized he’d done nothing but stare for the past five minutes, in a state of near dissociation. He didn’t notice the way the lights were flickering, and he didn’t hear Charlie’s own shrieks when she recognized the wings. The lobby was swarmed in a mass of tendrils that knocked things over and pierced through the furniture, and Alastor didn’t notice a thing.

-

“Shh…hold still sweetie. You lost a lot of blood, sugar. Focus on my voice, okay?” Rosie was so grateful she’d followed her old friend, toting a bag of left over sandwiches and cookies she meant to give him. She was a moment too late. She’d reached the curb just in time for the exhaust of the car’s engine to soil the air. She saw the license plate…and rage and betrayal didn’t even cover how she felt.

How could you?

It baffled her, to think of how far these two one time, close friends had fallen. She used to think Vox and Al might have a shot at reconciliation. If the two just talked and sorted things out, maybe they could all be what they’d been…so many decades ago. With every new argument and escalating violence it was seeming more and more impossible. Now as Rosie looked at what Vox had done she knew that reconciliation was not just impossible for Alastor, but it finally had been for her.

How could you?

Tears were quick to drip down, but Rosie swiped them with a desperate palm. This wasn’t what Husk needed right now. He needed someone strong, and someone to keep him calm. “Shh, hunny…don’t try to move, okay?” Hastily, she struggled to see through her tears as she tore off a piece of her dress, attempting to just stop the bleeding.

“I’m sorry…” Her voice shocked off into a sob that she swallowed for his benefit. “I shouldn’t have…let you—stars, I’m so sorry. Just, keep your eyes open. Don’t go to sleep, darling.”

#oh my heart this is #oh GOOOOOD #tw violence #tw blood #tw torture #(rosie) #(alastor) #top shelf tender

[adrienneleclerc]

Prison For Life

Paring: Walter Marshall x Latina/Hispanic! Reader

Summary: Walter Marshall is very protective over his girlfriend, Y/N, despite her knowing how to protect herself.

Warning: non translated Spanish porque luego me da flojera, errors in spelling or grammar because I don’t double check, I guess mentions of violence and sexual harassment

A/N: Based off of Olivia Rodrigo’s unreleased song “Prison For Life” which is most definitely my theme song, can’t lie. Sorry I haven’t been writing much

Y/N has always been an independent woman, she can perfectly take care of herself. However, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want someone to protect her.

Just a boy in a Chevy truck

He’s got money, but not too much

Walter Marshall has been a detective for the Minneapolis police department for over 10 years so he makes a decent amount of money. The day he met Y/N is certainly a day he would never forget. He parked his 2022 Chevrolet Silverado 2500 HD in the parking lot of Brits Pub and walked inside. He sat at the counter and waited for the bartender to turn around. When the bartender did, he was greeted by beautiful (your color) doe eyes and a small smile.

“Hola, guapo, I’m Y/N, what can I get ya to drink?” Y/N asked him.

“What do you recommend, love?” Walter asked. Y/N wanted to blush because of his British accent but she remained professional. It was a British pub after all so she shouldn’t really be surprised whenever a Brit comes in.

“Well, you could never go wrong with a classic Corona or a Dos Equis Lager, but that’s just me. You seem like a Heineken guy though.” Y/N said.

“I’ll take a Heineken then.” Walter said with a smile. Y/N smiled back and been to serve Walter Heineken in a frosted glass.

“Here you go. Would you want food or are you just here for the beer?” Y/N asked.

“Could I get a chicken tikka masala?” Walter asked.

“Sure thing, hun.” Y/N said, winking at him.

Half an hour later, Walter was eating his food, drinking his beer, and watching whatever the pub was playing on TV when he spotted Y/N at a table with 3 men (basically that scene in Man of Steel).

“Come on, Doll, have a drink with me, I’ll make it worth your while.” The guy in the green t shirt said.

“I already said no, I’m working. Even if I wasn’t working, the answer would be no. So unless you’re gonna order something else..” Y/N said, making her way to clear the empty beer bottle when she felt the guy grope her ass. Y/N turn and smack his hand away and the guy grabbed her wrist. “Let go.”

“Who’s gonna make me?” The guys said. Before Y/N had the chance to take her butterfly knife out of her apron pocket, she felt someone stand behind her.

“I will.” The deep British voice said. “You heard her, let her go.”

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy asked in an angry tone.

“I’m detective Marshall, so let her go before I arrest you for sexual misconduct and disorderly conduct.” Walter said and the guy let Y/N go while the other bartender working kicked him out. “You okay, Y/N?” Walter asked.

“Yeah, thank you for that. If you hadn’t done that, I would have stabbed him.” Y/N said,

“I Don’t believe that.” Walter said but Y/N pulled out her butterfly knife. “Oh wow, you really would have stabbed him.” Y/N chuckled at his shocked face.

“When you’re a female bartender or a woman in general, self defense is vital.” Y/N said.

“Could never be too careful. How about I buy you a drink.” Walter said.

“I can’t really drink on the job. But my shift ends in 15 minutes if you want to wait. We could go somewhere else.” Y/N said.

“That sounds perfect.” Walter said.

And he calls me “baby girl”

I run my hands through his curls

Walter and Y/N have been officially dating for 2 weeks. This was the first time Y/N spent the night at Walter’s house. She was sound asleep until Walter’s alarm woke them up. Walter shut off his alarm while Y/N covered her face with the comforter. Walter chuckled and pulled down the covers to see Y/N. He kissed her nose.

“Good morning, baby girl.” Walter said. Y/N felt butterflies every time he called her that. Y/N started to play with his curly hair.

“Good morning, guapo. What time is it?” Y/N asked. Walter checked his phone.

“It’s 6:30, love.” Walter said. Y/N groaned.

“You wake up way too early.” Y/N said. Walter got off the bed and put on his boxers.

“Well I get in at 8, I have to shower and everything. But you can rest up, baby girl, I know I tired you out last night.” Walter said, kissing her one last time. But before he left his room, he heard something that made him turn around.

“Or I can join you in your shower.” Y/N offered, batting her eyelashes. Walter groaned.

“You’re going to be the death of me, baby girl.” Walter said, before leaning down on the bed to capture her lips, making out a little before lifting her off the bed, having her wrap her legs around his waist, and carrying her to the bathroom where they showered.

And my parents think he’s good and he is, rest assured

He’s anything but sweet if someone comes for me

Walter and Y/N have been dating for 3 months now, Y/N was working in the bar when she got a phone call. She told her coworker, Jason, that she was on break and went to the back room to answer the phone.

“Hello?” Y/N said.

“Hola, amor, como has estado?” Her mom said on the other line.

“Hola mami, estoy bien. Ahorita estoy trabajando, te llamo después, si?”

“Espérate mija, te llamo para decir que tu papá y yo estamos en camino para tu apartamento, nos falta dos, está bien para ti?”

“Mami, para que me visitas?”

“Una mamá ya no puede visitar a su hija o que? Solo quiero saber cómo estás, casi no hablamos. Entonces te veo luego amor, bye.” Her mom hung up and Y/N groaned, calling Walter. He picked up after 3 rings.

“Hey, baby girl, are you excited for our date?” Walter asked

“Hey, querido listen, we need to cancel our date.” Y/N said.

“Why? Are you okay?” Walter asked worriedly.

“No Yeah, everything is fine, but my parents are coming over, I just got off the phone with my mom, so now I need to get my apartment ready, so sorry.” Y/N said.

“Don’t worry, darling, it’s fine, I get it. Talk to you later, bye.” Walter said.

2 hours later, Y/N was in her apartment, she prepared penne vodka, got a bottle of Sangiovese out of the liquor cabinet, set up the dinner table, and out on something somewhat presentable before buzzing up her parents. When there was a knock on her door she opened it but was surprised to see Walter standing outside her door with a bouquet of pink peonies.

“Walter, what are you doing here? I told you my parents are coming over.” Y/N said, pulling him into the apartment.

“Yes, I know, love. But I actually wanted to meet your parents if that’s okay.” Walter said, Y/N was shocked that he actually wanted to meet her parents.

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine, up, take another plate out of the cabinet while I put these in water.” Y/N said, kissing his cheek. Y/N got a vase, filled them with water, and checked to see if the stems were cut diagonally before putting them in the vase and setting them on the kitchen counter. Walter set up his place at the dinner table when the doorbell rang and Y/N buzzed her parents up. A few moments later, there was a knock on the door and Y/N opened the door to see her parents.

“Hola, mija, como has estado?” Her dad greeted her first, hugging her while entering the apartment.

“Hola papi, hola mami.” Y/N greeted back.

“Y/N, quien es este hombre tan guapo?” Her mom asked and Y/N blushed out of embarrassment.

“Ah mami, él es..”

“Buenas tardes, señora, soy Walter, el novio de su hija.” Walter held out his hand for her mom to shake. All three Latinos shocked at the fact that the handsome gringo can speak Spanish practically perfectly.

“How?” Y/N asked.

“Well i am from England, I learned Spanish in school but ever since I got a gorgeous Latina/Hispanic (whichever you prefer to be called, honestly) girlfriend, I’ve been practicing more.” Walter said.

“I love that. Bueno, ya está la comida, así que les sirvo la pasta y quizás un poquito de vino, si?” Y/N said.

Dinner went quite well and Y/N walked her parents to the lobby to say goodbye properly.

“Es un buen muchacho, Y/N. Se nota que te quiere mucho. Nos vemos luego.” Her mom said as they both left. Y/N got upstairs and saw Walter washing the dishes.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.” Y/N said.

“I crashed your dinner with your parents, it’s the least I could do.” Walter said.

“Thanks. So you’ve been practicing your Spanish ever since we’ve started dating?” Y/N asked him.

“Pues claro, así puedo decirte que te amo.” Walter said as he took Y/N hands in his. “I love you, Y/N, I really do. It was one of the reasons why I wanted to meet your parents today too.”

“Yo también te amo, Walter.” Y/N said. They kissed.

A week later, Walter and Y/N went to a bar so she could meet his friends/coworkers. Everything was going well until Y/N went to the bar counter to get more drinks for their booth and felt a person grab her ass, what is with people and her ass? She turned around but she already saw Walter pushing the guy away from her.

“What hell is your problem, man?” The guy yelled, clearly drunk.

“My problem is men like you thinking it’s okay to touch my girlfriend, or any woman for that matter, without their consent. I’m a cop so I suggest you leave before I arrest your drunken ass.” Walter threatened and the guy left with a huff. “You okay, baby girl?”

“Yes I am, thanks to you.” Y/N said, the bartender flagged her down for the drinks, she thanked him, and walked to the booth with Walter’s arms around her.

I’m a feminist, obviously, but I wouldn’t really mind him saving me

And I know that I’m fine without a man but I think I would like his protection

I’m just being honest, can’t change what I like, I’ll never forget it, he told me one night

“If anybody hurts you, ha, I’m going to prison for life”

Y/N was at her house, getting ready to go out with Walter, video chatting with her bestie.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you’re in love with this guy? What happened to you being an independent woman and a feminist.” Her friend said.

“I am a feminist, Don’t get me wrong. I still am an independent woman, thank you very much, I pay my bills, but i wouldn’t mind him fighting off any pervs from the fucking bar when I’m working. I’m pretty sure I’d get fired if I actually put my butterfly knife to good use.” Y/N said, doing her makeup

“I mean fair, it’s like you could do it, but you shouldn’t have to.” Her friend said.

“Exactly! Besides, all those romance novels I’ve read made me want like a protective boyfriend, those who say ‘where whatever you want, I can fight’, like a that’s so hot. I think Walter fits that description.” Y/N said, putting the finishing touches of her makeup.

“You certainly got a book boyfriend, I’ll tell you that.” Y/N was going to respond until she got a call from Walter.

“Hey baby girl, I’m downstairs, ready whenever you are.” Walter said.

“I’m coming, bye.” Y/N hung up. “Hey, (friends name), Walter is here, I gotta go.” Y/N said.

“Have fun.” Her friend said and hung up. Y/N got her bag and left the apartment to see Walter standing by his truck with a bouquet of roses in his hand this time.

“Happy 6 months, darling.” W,after said, leaning down to kiss her.

“Happy 6 months. Do I just put these in water and then we can go?” Y/N asked.

“Or you could do that after our date. Come on, I’m positive you’re going to love it.” Walter said. He drove until they made it to a park where there was a picnic table. He got out of the truck to open the door for Y/N and help her out. He went to the back to get out a picnic basket.

“Aw, this is so cute, Walter.” Y/N said, kissing him lightly.

“I’m glad you think so, love, let’s go, our date awaits.” Walter said, leading her to the table, setting everything up.

When they were done, he drove back to her place where she invited him up to have a slice of flan that she has made last night.

“This is delicious, love. You are an amazing cook.” Walter said, kissing her, her lips tasting sweet from the flan.

“Thank you, my mom taught me.” Y/N asked.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Walter said,

“Go ahead, ask me.” Y/N said,

“Whats that scar on your hip?” Walter asked. Y/N tenses up a bit but answered him anyway.

“It was after work. This was like a year ago, um, this drunk kept hitting on me, I kept saying no, when I was leaving his table, I felt his hand on my inner thigh, the one day I wear a skirt, right, and I slapped him. The manager kicked him out, my shift ended an hour later, as I was walking to my car, I felt him grab me, I was looking for my knife when I felt him cut me on my hip and I stab his hand. He screamed, I got a bunch of napkins that I kept in my purse to press it against my hip and drove to the hospital. It wasn’t that deep but it did need stitches. So yeah, that’s what happened.” Y/N said, eating another spoonful of flan. Walter took Y/N’s free hand in his, bringing it to his lips, kissing it.

“I Don’t know what to say. I wish I would have met you before, to prevent that from happening.” Walter said.

“Whats done is done, don’t dwell on it, guapo, it’s okay.” Y/N said,

“I’ll just say this, I have fought or threatened any person who has touched you or even looked at you the wrong way.” Walter started and Y/N giggled because it was true. “But I am positive that if anybody hurts you, I’m going to prison for life, I’ll always be there to protect you or fight for you.” Walter said, kissing her.

The End

Hope y’all like it! Should I make a part 2 based off the second verse and the bridge?

#hispanic reader #latina #hispanic #henry cavill x reader #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #henry cavill #night hunter #walter marshall #latina reader

[wisteriaiswriting]

could you do a fic where sombra, mercy and tracer save you from a toxic relationship and then you're together with them?

𝕊𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕠𝕦𝕣

Words: 700

𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕣𝕒:

Nothing could hide from Sombra for long, at all even. So when she found out how toxic your partner was, not anymore. She’s not going to let you stay for any longer.

And how would she do that? Oh you underestimate her ability to find anything. She means that. Within the day she's had your partner break up with you, and to never contact you again.

Because if they do, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight. Then again they were never pretty to begin with.

***

It seemed your ex had learnt their lesson. Never approaching you, barely hanging around the same area you were. So her tactic was pretty effective.

But today they must’ve thought she wasn’t watching anymore. As for once, they entered the building. Purposely looking around for you, and when they did they started making their way over.

They didn’t see anyone sitting with you, so you must be alone, right? Wrong. That’s right, Olivia had been here the whole time. So off they go, aware she never left. And as long as she lives, you’ll be safe with her.

𝕄𝕖𝕣𝕔𝕪:

Being part of Overwatch was a large job, and it took a toll on everyone’s relationships. And your’s was one of them, your partner didn’t like how much time you spent at work.

Enjoying the money it brought in, which was a decent amount for your work. But this also meant it took its toll on you, which was apparently very visible. As Mercy had somehow found out about their comments.

Which ended up with her confronting them next time they tried something, this time trying to get more money from you.

“You need to– No, listen…” The conversation was just the two speaking over each other, as you just listened. But before you knew it she had hung up on them, handing the phone back to you. “Please, take the night off and don’t contact them. Jack will be out for the night as well.”

***

It seemed her threat, well, more like Jack’s worked. As they’ve stayed out of your life. But as members of overwatch neither of you were able to go ahead and flaunt your relationship, but you had your ways of keeping them updated.

Luckily enough some younger members were weirdly interested in your relationship. And with your permission they were posted, which had some condescending captions.

𝕋𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕣:

Lena was on her way to chat with you, having to go back when she forgot something. But now she wasn’t if it was a blessing or a curse. As she managed to overhear something she likely shouldn’t have…

And that was your partner shouting at you, about who knows what but it was clear it wasn’t your fault. Your partner was just being a dick.

So when they left she rushed over, teleporting actually. But that didn’t matter!

“What's wrong with them?” You didn’t respond, only looking away. “Hey,” Her hands pulled your face to look at her.

“I want, no need you to know I’ll be here. And I want you to be safe.” Her hands only tightened their grip.

“You ne– no, uh…” Clearly having something to say but was unsure how to actually say it.

“Lena, spit it out.”

“BREAK UP WITH THEM!” After yelling that you both just froze.

“You’re right.”

“I’m s- WHAT!”

She was right, but you didn’t know how. Luckily enough she was here to help.

***

“C’mon love!” Her hand wrapped around your wrist to drag you along. The streets were sparse with people, so it was a small chance to lose you. But that didn’t stop someone from trying something.

“Y/N, it’s been so long, I–” Pausing when they caught sight of Lena standing close, a little too close for their liking.

“What's this? You’ve gone and cheated on me with her?!” She watched as you went silent, falling into the routine of listening. So she stepped in.

“Oi,”

“What?” Instead of responding her hand wrapped around yours again, and in a blink of an eye you were gone. From the streets and back to the comfort of your home.

“I’m sorry that happened love…” Slowly pulling you into a hug, letting you let everything out.

#overwatch x male reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch sombra #overwatch sombra x reader #sombra x reader #overwatch mercy #overwatch mercy x reader #mercy x reader #overwatch tracer #overwatch tracer x reader #tracer x reader #wisteria♥

[slexenskee]

Nest (Oneshot)

Someone, at some point, somewhere in one of my inboxes, asked me something about Hawks's more bird-like traits. I wish I could remember... literally anything else about it so I could track it down and answer it properly, but I can't so here's Gojo being sick and Hawks building a nest about it

[link] (or read below)

Getting sick is a normal and uncommon fact of life— unless your name is Gojo Satoru.

This is his reasoning for how he idiotically misses the signs of his own incoming misery until it’s too late to avoid it. He’d had a sickly early childhood, mainly due to a premature birth and a finicky eating schedule, but by the time his Six Eyes and his memories had awakened he’d gotten through the worst of it. There was still the usual gamut of runny noses pervasive in the public school system, but eventually he’d learned to filter out the worst of the pathogens. Some common viruses, like the cold or the flu, changed too quickly each year for him to do it reliably, but as he got older he just learned to keep a healthy(ish) diet and a decent(ish) sleep schedule and avoid them. 

In hindsight, that it took him this long into his parenting adventures to finally catch something from Eri was actually rather impressive. Kids were the penultimate vector of diseases; sticky hands, constantly touching everything and everyone, and spending notable amounts of time around other small human-shaped vectors of diseases made catching an illness an inevitable outcome for any parent. As it turns out, Gojo Satoru and his invincible barrier was no exception.

Anyway, so finally getting sick wasn’t that surprising, even if he wasn’t thrilled with the experience. 

But Hawks’s reaction to it… well… okay maybe that shouldn’t have been surprising either, but it sure was a bewildering thing to wake up to.

He wakes from a groggy, disorienting sleep with a head that feels stuffed full of cotton (or maybe just congestion) and only a vague recollection of how he ended up back in his bed. He thinks he actually fell asleep on the couch with Eri on his chest, but at some point he remembers being carried off somewhere. 

Eri had gotten some kind of bad head cold from her daycare. Nothing life threatening, or even warranting a trip to the pediatrician, but painful to deal with nonetheless. He hates to see her so obviously unwell and unhappy, and especially hates how little he can do for her when she’s like this. He’d stayed up with her through her miserable coughing fits, gave her steam baths when he could, and made sure to keep her on a steady clip of simple foods and fluids. In the process, he’d slept poorly himself, and spent most of his time stressing out about her and forgetting to eat or drink fluids himself. 

At first, he just assumed his poor constitution could be blamed on a criminal lack of sleep. Then he tries to take a breath through his nose and ends up in a coughing fit instead, and realizes not only is he still sleep deprived, but now also sick. 

Gojo collapses back onto the bed, sighing as he resigns himself to a pretty unfortunate next few days. 

He rolls over onto his side, hoping to clear out his lungs that way, and ends up with a nose full of Eri’s hair and a cat yowling in protest. 

This isn’t particularly unusual. Eri still sleeps with him on occasion, and when she does she sometimes forgets to close the door behind her and the cat prowls in at some point and makes a nuisance of himself by curling up right where Gojo wants to put his legs. 

But when Gojo opens his eyes to swat the cat off the bed, he’s met with a peculiar sight. 

He blinks bleary eyes out at the scene, a bit bewildered, and wondering if his head cold is making him hallucinate. 

The bed is… full of junk. 

Well, not junk exactly, but a strange and random collection of various household items that, at first, make no sense to Gojo. Every throw pillow in the house seems to have made its way into a vague circle around the perimeter of the bed, and draped across them are all the spare sheets, random pillowcases, a few sweaters, a pair of fuzzy socks he thinks might belong to Yui, the throw blanket that lives on the couch downstairs, and even a few throw blankets he doesn’t even recognize. 

He reaches for the nearest one, a plaid thing he’s very certain he’s never seen before in his life. It’s silky soft, and also still has a tag on it. He rubs his fingers across the smooth fabric, then moves to the sweater that’s bunched up next to it. It’s also quite soft. Everything on the bed is soft, he realizes. It’s not just an arbitrary assortment of all the fabric items in the house— it’s an assortment of all the softest fabrics in the house, laid out in a conspicuously circular arrangement around him. 

Gojo’s not entirely certain, but he thinks this is supposed to be some kind of nest. And he appears to be in the center of it. 

For a long moment, head still fuzzy with sleep, he just stares out into it incredulously. Then he shrugs and grabs one of the random blankets and throws it over him and Eri, snuggles back up to her, and falls back asleep. 

//

Hawks returns to the room when the light is low, so quiet Gojo almost doesn’t stir even as the other man moves about the bed. He reaches out blindly in the direction of the noise, catching the Hawks’s sleeve. 

“Oh,” Hawks says softly. “You’re awake? How are you feeling?”

Gojo gives an unintelligible grunt in response. Hawks just chuckles, moving closer to push the hair off Gojo’s forehead. “Yeah, I figured as much. I’ve got water and medicine, if you’re up for it.”

Gojo eventually summons up the energy to open his eyes. At some point, Eri and Meow have disappeared, leaving him rather lonely in this crowded bed. 

He blinks up at Hawks. “... You made me a nest.”

He made a nest, and then put Eri, all the softest things in the house, and even the cat in it with him. If he wasn’t so out of it right now, he’d be dying from the adorableness of it all. 

Hawks looks a bit abashed as he looks down at his arms. Gojo realizes he’s got a collection of sheets and pillowcases in his arms that had formerly been strewn around the edges of his the bed. “Ah… yeah. Sorry about that— I kind of made a mess! I’ll clean it up and put these in the wash.” 

Gojo frowns up at him, blaming his wretched sinuses for the way it takes him so long to realize Hawks doesn’t just look bashful, but perhaps even a bit self-conscious. He tugs a little harder on the man’s sleeve, wishing he felt a little more coherent so he could properly explain himself. 

“Don’t clean it up,” he says, voice rough with sleep. “I like it.”

“Oh,” Hawks looks surprised, and a little pleased. “... You don’t mind?”

Gojo shakes his head, which from the way his head starts swimming in dizziness after, was probably not the best idea. He has to close his eyes to stave off the nausea, and Hawks immediately starts fussing over him and urging him to sit up and take his medicine. As he does that the hero walks over to the blinds and slides them shut, dousing the room in blissful darkness. He gives a sigh of relief; he’d forgotten how sensitive he gets to light when he’s sick. 

“Better?” Hawks asks. 

Gojo makes a noise of acknowledgement, setting down the empty glass as he smiles up at him. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Of course,” Hawks replies easily, returning to his side. He settles at the edge of the bed, careful not to dislodge all his hard work, gaze worried. “Do you need anything else?”

He’s about to say no, before he thinks better of it. He makes a show of looking around the bed. “You know, it’s a pretty nice nest,” he starts, slowly. “But I think it’s missing something.”

It’s cute how Hawks sits up at attention, suddenly very alert, looking both eager to please but also a bit offended. “Missing what?” 

Gojo grins at him. “You.”

Hawks rolls his eyes. “That was embarrassing for both of us,” he mutters, but nonetheless slides in next to him without protest. 

Yeah, his game’s usually better than that, but whatever, he’s sick and he still got what he wanted. 

Back to Masterposts

#fic may death never stop you #mdnsy oneshots

[sugurus-fave-monkey]

Teaser pt 2

(Still a WIP but I’ve hit a block and wanna take my time with the actual smut)

So I wrote a little more and I’m just going to post what I’ve got going on for now. This has a decent amount of spice tho. Part two here

TW: MDNI/ 18+, Satoru Gojo x Suguru Geto, no actual sex acts yet but mentions penis’, angst, PTSD, death mentioned, kissing, neediness, blood mentioned (taste), bro I just want them to be together, Gege when I catch you, not edited, not proofread, hoping to finish it over the weekend.

NSFW under the cut

The night air was cold on his skin as Suguru Geto leaned out his dorm window, trying to find enjoyment in the form of a cigarette. As he exhaled, his left hand came to rub at his eyes, the bags beneath them seemingly a part of him, just like his skin. Just when did everything go wrong? How much more of this could he take? After pitching away the rest of his cigarette, he adjusts the towel on his waist, and closes the window. He sits down on his bed, and runs his fingers through his still damp hair.

Maybe he’s being punished? He should have been more aware of his surroundings after him and Satoru were ambushed. Perhaps he shouldn’t have even offered that girl a life, maybe had he not said anything, he wouldn’t have watched her die. That’s all he sees whenever he closes his eyes, her, and that man, the smug look on his face. When he manages to sleep, he is plagued by nightmares, the girl, screaming at him, Satoru’s body, broken and lifeless, and that man, Toji Fushiguru, no, not a man, what had he called himself? A monkey. The only time Suguru had felt real fear in his life, was caused by none other than a filthy fucking monkey.

He felt like the higher ups were trying to isolate him. Satoru, the only person he felt true friendship with was always being sent on solo missions, while Geto was left to exorcise and consume the curses. The curses, the only form of company he had. Sometimes he would let one out, late at night, alone in his room, just to feel the presence of something. He didn’t know how to feel, he didn’t even know if he could feel anymore, he had spent so long choking back silent tears. His emotions got the best of him at first, and he turned the overwhelming sadness, the emptiness into rage, and when that didn’t help he discarded those emotions, in fact he discarded all emotions.

A soft knock on the door startled him, and he had to ground himself back to reality. He check the alarm clock on his nightstand and saw that it read 3:17 a.m. He sighed and decided to ignore the door, which only resulting in whomever was there knocking louder.

“Yo! Suguru! I know you’re in there, let me in.” Of course.

Suguru rolled his eyes before responding, “I’m trying to sleep Satoru; we can talk in the morning.”

“Nah, I can tell that you’re awake, lemme in, it’s important.” Satoru demanded. “Besides if you don’t I’ll just stay here and pound on your door all night and wake everyone else up.”

Geto stood up, and crossed the room to the door, before swinging it open. “What do you need?”

Satoru threw up his hands and smirked. “You gonna let me in or?”

Geto moved out of the way,, and Satoru walked in, kicking his shoes off before perching himself on the chair at the desk. He quickly scanned his best friend, noting his lack of clothing, and dripping hair.

“Trying to sleep my ass.” Gojo scoffs. “Anyways, we’ve go a mission together, there’s this village, and apparently there’s been some weird activity going on, so I’m tagging along with you.”

Geto turned his head towards Gojo and raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean by tagging along?”

“Well, I kinda overheard Yaga talking about assigning you that mission solo, and I wanted to come with, since it’s been a while since we’ve had any missions together…” Gojo trailed off.

Geto could instantly tell he was lying, and glared at him.

“Ok, maybe they actually asked me to go with you, but either way! We get to work together again!” Gojo explained.

“So they think I’m incapable of handling a mission solo, and you need to be there?” Geto questioned.

“Suguru… they think you’re a liability, and as much as I hate the higher ups, and disagree with that, I just-“

“So in case something goes wrong, in case something inside me snaps, they want you to be there to put me down?!” Geto had heard enough, the anger he thought he buried rising to the surface.

“N-no,” Gojo stammered, while he stood up, closing the distance between them, his cool demeanour lost. “I don’t know what it is, they just need someone to keep an eye on you. You’ve been off Suguru, and don’t give me that bullshit about a summer cold, something’s going on with you.”

“Tch. I’m fine Satoru” Geto spoke. “I don’t need-“

Before Geto could finish speaking Satoru’s lips were on his own, his eyes widening. He had thought of doing this many times, but was never quite sure how to go about it. Geto parted his lips, allowing Gojo’s tongue to snake into his mouth, swirling his own tongue with Gojo’s. It was as though every wall he had built came crashing down at that moment, Geto wrapped his arms around Gojo, pulling him into an embrace, while Gojo runs his fingers through Geto’s hair.

When they pull away for a brief moment, Geto swears he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He brings a hand to Satoru’s cheek, cradling it, before pulling him back into the kiss. He’s rough, taking charge this time, biting on Gojo’s lower lip, causing the white haired man to inhale sharply. Geto forces his tongue into Gojo’s mouth and groans when Gojo sucks on his tongue. Geto kisses him passionately, lustfully, hungrily, almost as though he wishes to consume him.

Geto lowers Gojo to the bed, using one hand to support himself, and he trails kisses over Gojo’s neck, feeling himself grow erect. Gojo can’t help but squirm under him, wrapping his legs around Geto’s waist. Geto trails his fingers under Gojo’s shirt, feeling his muscles contract, one finger brushing over a nipple, before his thumb joined, pinching it. Kissing was no longer enough, Geto needed to taste him, and so he sunk his teeth into his neck, and began to suck on the tender skin, relishing the taste of copper as Gojo’s skin began to bruise. He stopped for a moment, to pull Gojo’s shirt off, and continued tasting the other man. His lips found their way to Gojo’s nipple, and he started licking at the bud, smirking when Gojo whined and rutted his hips up.

Gojo could feel himself coming undone, and he hadn’t even touched Geto yet, in fact he wasn’t planning any of this at all, the kiss was an impulse he had been feeling for a while, and finally acted on. But now he longed to feel his best friend inside of him, he was usually the one to take charge, and control the situation, but he wanted nothing else but to be ruined by Geto. Gojo’s aching cock twitched at the thought of being fucked by Geto, and as he watched the man’s head going lower and lower on his body, he didn’t know how much he could take. As Geto effortlessly undid his belt, and lowered his pants, leaving only his boxers, Gojo grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him up. Geto looked questioningly at him.

“I want you to mark me.” Gojo breathed.

Geto cocked an eyebrow before trailing his tongue upwards, over his abs, and to his pecs. As Geto bit down again, Gojo groaned, he fist clenching around Geto’s hair. Gojo watched as marks formed on his body, some bleeding, others just barely bruising. He used his hands to guide Geto’s head closer to his own, before Geto’s lips came crashing down, and Gojo used his tongue to probe Geto’s mouth. Tasting his own blood drove him mad, and he needed more, so much more.

#jjk geto #jjk smut #geto smut #geto suguru #jjk satoru #satosugu #satoru gojo #gojo x geto #geto x gojo #gojo smut #suguru geto #jjk gojo

[dreamsoflightvalley]

Flynn Rider X Reader (Dreamlight Valley AU)

A/N: I really hope he actually gets added to Dreamlight Valley because that would be so pog 😭 like c’mon we already have Kristoff I have to assemble a gang of my husbands

Content: Memory loss, romance, suggestive humor, minor swearing

The Forgetting consumed the Glade of Trust just as it had everything else. The nightmarish thorns overtook the once vibrant landscape, consuming all who lived there in endless night…

But that was until you came along.

Yes, you who were gifted with the power of wielding dreamlight.

He spent his days wandering in an endless fog, aimless and empty, and suddenly there was this radiant figure who appeared from the mist.

You were quite familiar to him, seeing your face made him feel at ease. When you crossed paths he spoke for the first time in what felt like years, a smile creasing his cheeks.

“Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

A flirt, as always.

You were kind enough to let him stay at your house while his was being constructed, as the castle was still overrun with night thorns and was not very suitable for guests. He certainly didn’t mind though.

The Forgetting had consumed a decent amount of his memory, so a lot of his character development was reversed and he was the same old Flynn that he always was. Flirty, slightly perverse, too cocky for his own good… Charming to you, in a strange way. You knew you shouldn’t be charmed, but seeing him try so hard to impress you was just too cute.

You were starting to rouse something in him, a distant memory. The faint impression of a lover lingers in his mind, someone who was gifted, determined, and pure-hearted. As he followed you around the kingdom at your request he saw you display all these traits and more.

He watches you make breakfast on the frying pan he was carrying with him when you first met, a fond smile gracing his features.

“You can sit at the table if you want,” You politely suggested, it was pretty distracting to have him hovering over you like this.

“No, no, I like to watch,” He smirked, looking at your face for some kind of reaction to his innuendo. You merely rolled your eyes, narrowly resisting the urge to smile. “Well, if you’re gonna hover you may as well help me cook. Go get the blueberries out of the fridge,” You nodded towards the appliance in question, reaching for your spatula to flip the flapjack.

You felt more at ease when he was helping you cook, having a hot guy hovering over your shoulder the whole time was a little nerve wracking. Eventually, you finally finished making breakfast together and sat down to eat.

You watched as he opened up just about every jar of jam you had in the house, using the same knife for each one. It annoyed you, but you merely watched on as he smeared each pancake with a different spread. He’s weird.

“You’re rude,” You informed him as you sliced into your stack, fork holding it in place. “You think so?” He asked genuinely, but he also kind of knew he was a bit of a bastard. “Yeah,” You shrugged softly, smiling to let him know you meant it in an affectionate way. “You’re not the first to think so, but you love me anyway so—“ He chuckled and shrugged, digging his knife into his own pancakes before pausing. He used the L word, didn’t he?

His face froze as he glanced up from his food and over to you, searching for any sort of… Approval, I suppose. You stared back at him, eyes softening. The eye contact was brief, the two of you awkwardly looking off to the side and allowing the silence to hang in the air.

It was hard to stand the sound of silverware clinking against the plates for very long.

“I do,” You admitted, wanting this tension to die already.

He perked up a little, his cheeks stuffed. He wanted to ask you to repeat yourself, but his mouth was quite full.

“You’re a complicated guy, even though you try to convince everyone that you’re so one-note. But I do love you, whether you’re Flynn Rider or Eugene Fitzherbert, doesn’t really matter to me.”

If there was any doubt in his mind that the lover he was searching for was you, it was swept away by those words alone. You knew him so intimately that it scared him at times.

He gulped, the food rolling down his throat with a little bit of struggle.

For a while he didn’t really know how to respond to your admission that you loved him.

He was fine hearing you say it, but despite him sharing your feelings there was something so daunting about affirming it aloud.

Days and days go by, both of you essentially living as a couple. Neither of you ever said anything, but you lived together, farmed together, cooked together, and after a while slept next to one another. That was a pretty big deal, in terms of couple milestones.

But one day Mickey gets the bright idea of making lanterns for some made up holiday, something that only Mickey could think of. It was to celebrate the liberation of The Valley and bring the village together, boost morale, establish a sense of unity, yadda yadda.

But what stood out to Flynn was the use of lanterns. Another little spark of familiarity flashed in his mind, he remembered loving lanterns.

Making each other’s lanterns just came so natural, it felt right! Surely he must have done this with you before.

He eagerly picks out the paper he wants to use for his lantern, he goes for a blue-green to match his corset so that when everyone sees it in the sky they know it’s his. He then half-heartedly attempts to make his own wanted poster to brand it with, using his desired nose proportions of course.

You help each other assemble your creations, and even though he won’t admit it he knows yours is way cooler.

Everyone in The Valley sends their lanterns off at the same time, but yours are particularly close together.

He looks at you with a smile, and without thinking blurts out his affection to you.

“I love you too.”

You blinked at him a few times, you hadn’t even said anything before he randomly confessed his feelings.

“What?”

“I said I love you too… You said you love me, so as a good partner I… I will say that I love you, too.”

———

Addendum: Sorry if this is bland, I haven’t written for any of my Disney boys in… Well, this is my first Disney fic, actually. Never written for it before. I’m leaving the idea of the reader being the lover he remembers up in the air, it’s whatever you personally prefer. The lack of answer leaves the door open for some good angst potential xP

#disney dreamlight valley #flynn rider #flynn rider x reader #eugene fitzherbert #eugene fitzherbert x reader #disney #disney x reader #dreamlight valley #writing #x Reader #tangled #Dreamlight valley x Reader #Disney Dreamlight valley x Reader #is this the first official Dreamlight valley fic??

[formulaes5]

nothing in my system (feeling what i feel for you)

He tastes like cherry and vodka and Mark might actually fucking cry if he doesn’t get to kiss Sebastian Vettel like this forever for the rest of time. In which team celebrations are overrated and Mark finds God at the back of Seb's throat.

☆ 3.3k, E, ao3 ☆

It’s loud, nearly unbearably so. The club is packed to the brim with Red Bull team members; engineers and officials alike, all celebrating their Monaco one-two finish like their lives depended on it. The music was loud, the booze was on Red Bull’s tab, and Mark was relatively sure that it was Christian he could hear over the thump of the music, off in a corner booth, loudly explaining the ins and outs of his job to a handful of bemused looking employees, clearly less intoxicated than their boss. He got up from his bar stool with a snort, abandoning the last dregs of his beer on the bartop and walking off in search of a quieter spot to enjoy his victory from. It felt good to get one over his teammate, and Mark wasn’t going to let shitty top one hundred songs ruin it for him.

The crowd was surging now, moving with the beat in an uncoordinated mess, and Seb was using it as the perfect excuse to push through the throng towards Mark in confident strides, a beer and some fruity monstrosity of a cocktail clutched in hand and moving to the beat of whatever bass-heavy track was blaring in the background. He had forgone his usual horrendously ugly plaid shorts for a pair of jeans that hugged his legs all the way down, paired with an equally tight white tee that really left nothing to the imagination. Mark was a lot of things - he would admit to that - but one thing he wasn’t was a damn liar, and right now he could admit that Seb looked downright edible, all blond curls, big smiles, and the kind of firm round ass that was, in Mark’s professional opinion, just downright begging for a smack.

Mark rolls his eyes as Seb finally sidles up to him, pressing a beer into his hand with a big grin. “For the race winner”, he says jovially, not waiting for Mark’s response before taking a healthy swig of his own drink.

Mark thinks about refusing the beer, just to be contrary really, then decides that he doesn’t feel like playing their usual games. He won today, he felt great; he was going to take the damn beer.

He took a sip, shooting an obligatory “cheers mate” in Seb’s direction before realising with a start that Seb had picked up his preferred beer. He certainly hadn’t ever mentioned it to Seb. Interesting.

They struck up a decent conversation, discussing the race, their favourite parts, the highs and the lows and the notable incidents. Mark is vaguely aware of Seb placing his hand on his arm, moving it idly up his forearm as their conversation becomes more animated. He should probably have a problem with it, he thinks to himself absentmindedly. He should probably tell Seb to stop, or at least try and subtly move his arm away, try and discourage whatever Seb thinks he’s doing now. At the very least he shouldn’t like the way Seb is moving his hand along his arm.

They’ve definitely spent far too long huddled in the corner together avoiding the limelight at this point, but Mark couldn’t really find it within himself to care about external appearances this late into the night, his internal feelings on the matter of how touchy-feely Seb had been lately an entirely different matter. He doesn’t even know what they’re fucking talking about, and he suspects neither does his teammate, but all of a sudden Seb is bursting out into infectious peels of laughter, and Mark can’t help but to join in, doing a far larger amount of giggling than he would like to admit to as Sebastian stabilises himself by grabbing onto Mark’s shoulder for support, giggling the whole way through at what was no doubt an awful reference to classic British comedy or a highly circumspect and off colour joke not suitable for public broadcast.

“Air. I need some air,” Seb gasps through his giggles.

“Okay, okay mate,” Mark manages to get out between his own, “let’s find some air.”

They push their way through the crowd still laughing, Mark holding onto Seb’s hand and pulling him along by it so as not to get separated in the crowd as they work their way towards a back exit door, abandoning their finished drinks on a table they pass on the way out.

The door bangs against the wall as it opens and again as it closes, shattering the quiet of the alley they had emerged into. Mark takes a few steps and leans back against the wall, taking in the crisp night air and Sebastian’s slowly petering out giggles as he gets himself back under control and makes his way over to Mark. Seb stops next to him, suddenly quiet, with a look in his eye that Mark can’t quite parse.

Seb licks his lips and stares up at Mark as it all clicks into place. Hunger - that’s what the look is. If Mark wasn’t sure about where this was going before they got outside, he sure as fuck is now. That look was a perfect combination of predatory and desperate and they’re both tipsy, but nowhere close to drunk as Seb rocks up on his toes and plants his hand against Mark’s chest, pushing him back into the rough brick. Mark can’t even get a second to think; to work out if he’s interested, to react to whatever the fuck is going on here out the back of a Monaco nightclub, of all places, before Seb connects his lips with Mark’s in a messy approximation of a kiss, enthusiastic if a little sloppy. Mark could get on board with sloppy.

Fuck it, he decides. In for a penny. He kisses back just as sloppily; wet, messy and insistent. He presses his tongue forcefully into Sebastian’s mouth, tangling his tongue with Seb's. He tastes like cherry and vodka and Mark might actually cry if he doesn’t get to kiss Sebastian Vettel like this forever for the rest of time. He twists the fingers of one hand into the collar of Seb’s tight little shirt, pulling it taut around the back of his neck as he hauls him in closer to press a thigh between Seb’s own.

Seb rocks his hips down into Mark’s thigh, whining needily into his mouth as he does so, feeling sparks shoot up his back as a large hand presses firmly into his lower back, rucking up his shirt to rest against bare skin and dipping down to tuck his fingers into the waistband of Seb’s jeans. The kiss is downright filthy. It’s deep and electrifying and fucking fantastic and Seb had never enjoyed kissing anyone this much in his life.

Mark just can’t get over how much Seb seems to want this; want him. A part of him in a dark crevice of his mind somewhere is livid. Seb’s enthusiasm - demonstrated by the way he seems to be trying to crawl into Mark via his mouth - implies that he could have had Seb like this ages ago. He’s sure that he’s going to be pissed off if he finds out later that he could have had his tongue down Seb’s throat from the beginning of the year rather than waiting for them to get a third of the way through the season. That can be a problem for Future Mark, he decides as Seb does his level best to swallow down a particularly embarrassing gasp from Mark as their crotches rub up against each other in just the right way. Seb is giving everything he has to this kiss; it’s sloppy and perfect and if Mark doesn’t de-escalate the situation fast, he’s going to have bigger problems on his hands.

He pushes gently at Seb’s chest, encouraging him to pull back for air, parting from him with a shaky gasp.

Mark is at war with his own mind, battling over doing the correct, gentlemanly thing, or just saying fuck it and diving right back into those oh so enticing, deep pink lips, “Not that I’m not a hundred per cent on board with this,” Mark starts, trying to regain his breath as he runs a hand idly down the front of Seb’s shirt, “but you’re a bit drunk, aren’t you mate.”

Seb shoots an indignant scowl at him, but Mark pushes on while he still has the self-control for it. “Maybe we could pick this up later?”

He sounds ridiculous - his heart just isn’t in it. He knows it. Seb knows it. And to top it all off, Seb knows that he knows that Seb knows. It’s a hollow charade of decency that neither of them are really interested in playing out, and they both know it too. Good form can be so fucking overrated sometimes, and the sceptical look Seb is sending his way is just the icing on the cake.

Fuck it.

He slams back into Seb with all the finesse of a crashing car, and the shocked little squeak Seb lets slip could single-handedly fuel Mark’s wank bank for the next five years. He tangles his hand in Seb’s lovely blond curls and kisses him like he needs it to live, hard and fast and utterly indecent. He trails his lips from his mouth to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, relishing in the rasp of Seb’s stubble on his own. He makes his way back up to his mouth, crushing their lips together firmly and biting down on Seb’s bottom lip before pulling back, keeping Seb’s lip trapped between his teeth as he moves back to elicit a drawn-out moan from Sebastian as he pushes his thigh further up into his crotch to make up for the loss of his mouth against Seb’s.

He groans and closes his eyes hard, tipping his head backwards into the brick as Seb grabs at his crotch, pushes his hips forward, mindlessly pressing into Seb’s tiny fucking hand palming at his rapidly hardening length. Then Seb is moving, sinking downwards out of his line of sight and all of a sudden Sebastian Vettel is on his knees. Seb is down on the ground on his knees, and he’s on his knees just for Mark.

He looks down and Jesus Fucking Christ Seb is staring up at him from his knees, big blue eyes behind lovely blond lashes and if Mark doesn’t at the very least get some skin-to-skin contact with him he’s going to implode. He watches Seb bring his hand up to his belt buckle and Mark knows he’s fucked beyond measure as he sees him deftly unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans in one swift motion. He’s fucked. Absolutely fucked.

“Seb”, he gasps, still not quite believing what he’s seeing with his own two eyes.

“I’m definitely sober enough to suck your dick… Unless you don’t want me to?” he asks teasingly, the little shit. If Mark wasn’t so turned on right now, he’d be thinking about strangling him. Seb’s still looking up at him with that shit-eating grin as he palms at his crotch. Mark has no fucking clue what he would do if Seb stopped but it certainly doesn’t bear thinking about.

Seb slides his hand into Mark’s boxers, confidently wrapping his hand around his hard cock and giving an experimental tug, smiling sweetly as Mark lets out an appreciative sigh at the contact, before pushing his boxers down and out of the way. He looks up at him coyly and moves that little bit closer to bring Mark’s aching cock to rest tantalisingly against his kiss-bitten lips, placing gentle little kitten licks on the head of Mark’s cock as his hand finds a home fisted in the soft curls at the back of Seb’s head. He keeps kissing at the tip, gently sucking on it before pulling back and flattening his tongue against the underside of Mark’s cock, licking a long stripe up to the tip of his cock and taking him into his mouth, wrapping his lips around Mark’s cock and bobbing up and down a few times, letting himself adjust to the stretch of his lips and jaw around Mark’s girth. The hand on his head presses down gently, encouragingly almost, helping Seb to move down onto his cock and pick up a decent rhythm.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Mark murmurs, “that’s it baby, good job.” He’s not even sure what he’s saying, just focused on making sure Seb keeps doing exactly what he’s doing, moaning around his cock and picking up the pace.

He moves his hand from where it was gripping Seb’s hair, stroking it back and forth over the hinge of his jaw and stretching his thumb out to touch the corner of Seb’s mouth as he moves on his cock, “Yes, you’re doing so well sweetheart, taking me so well.”

Mark rocks gently into the wet heat of his lips as Seb clutches at the denim covering the back of his thighs, humming in appreciation at the feeling of Mark’s cock hitting the back of his throat. And fuck, he’s actually in his throat. He’s got his cock down Sebastian Vettel’s pretty little throat and Mark can finally die a happy man. The head of his cock is pressed up against the back of Seb’s throat and he’s taking it like a fucking champion, hollowing his cheeks around the thick length of Mark’s cock and tightening his lips at the base, shoving his nose into the neatly trimmed hair of Mark’s pubes. He moves his hand from Seb’s jaw and back to his head, holding him there with a sturdy grip, briefly thrusting further before releasing his grip on Seb’s hair.

Seb pulls off him with a gasp, leaving just the tip resting on his tongue as he regains his breath. He’s got spit all over his mouth and tears in his eyes and he’s the most beautiful thing that Mark has ever seen in his life. The way Seb is suckling at the head of his cock feels like borderline torture at this point, and he knows that he won’t last much longer when Seb dives back down onto his length, intensifying his ministrations with a single-minded focus as he moves progressively faster up and down Mark’s cock.

“Oh fuck,” Mark tapped urgently at Seb’s jaw, trying to pull away, to give Seb the option, but he wasn’t taking it, “Seb, baby.”

He barely gets a second to react to the building heat in his gut before it snaps like a rubber band and he comes with a strangled curse, right into Seb’s enthusiastic little mouth, still bobbing away on Mark’s cock, milking him for everything he had and swallowing enthusiastically around him.

Seb looks lazily up at him as he pulls off his cock, still connected by a thin trail of saliva running from the head of Mark's cock right to Seb's mouth. Seb swipes his tongue across his lips, breaking the connection and grinning smugly, obviously proud of himself.

It's just about the hottest thing Mark's ever seen, and he'll probably make some tentative plans to address that with himself later, but at the moment he has more pressing concerns.

“Fuck," he grits out, "get up here baby.” He pulls Seb roughly up to him, zeroing in on a leftover drop of come under Seb’s lip. The speed with which he rushes to lick it off of Seb’s face is probably indicative of a larger problem, but Mark doesn’t have time for problems now as he licks his way almost ferally into Seb’s mouth, chasing the taste of himself on Seb’s tongue and moaning at the thought of it. The power with which his orgasm had crashed over him had perhaps knocked some brain cells loose in the process.

Seb kisses back just as aggressively, pressing his hips insistently into Mark’s thigh, reminding him that he wasn’t the only person that needed to get off in this situation. Mark generally liked to hold himself to a high standard of performance when it came to pleasuring his partners in the bedroom, or the alleyway in this situation, and leaving Seb hanging simply wouldn't do.

He reaches down and undoes Seb’s belt, roughly pulls his jeans halfway down his thighs with a shaky hand, then he’s shoving his hand into Seb’s briefs and wrapping a large hand around him, producing a filthy, pornographic moan from the man in question as he finally received the long-awaited attention he had been craving. It didn’t take much, clearly having been on the edge for so long had put Sebastian on a hair trigger. Mark strokes his hand down Seb’s cock once, twice, and he’s gone, coming with a cry of Mark’s name, splattering his release onto the ground as he leaned his head in to rest on Mark’s shoulder, panting hot heavy breaths into Mark as his orgasm swept through him.

Mark gave him a minute, then placed a finger on Seb’s chin, gently tilting his head up and leaning in to plant a soft, closed-mouth kiss on his swollen lips. They stand there for a few minutes trading soft kisses before Mark decides to take the initiative. He tucks Seb and then himself back into place, pulling up zippers and tightening belts in the quiet of the night.

“You good?” he asks Seb quietly, stroking over his cheek and checking for anything that might look out of place if they were to reenter the club, finding nothing except his shockingly pink lips, which could hardly be fixed now.

“Ja,” Seb chirped happily, pressing his face into Mark’s hand with a distinctly sleepy hum, “alles gut.”

Mark lets out an amused huff at the fact that English had seemingly abandoned Seb in the moment. He stroked his thumb over the corner of his jaw, leaning in to kiss one corner of Sebastian's mouth, then the other, before placing one last kiss squarely on his lips, loving the way that Seb hummed with clear appreciation in his tone as he kissed him back.

All of a sudden their quiet moment was viciously interrupted by a loud bang. Mark whirled around as the door slammed against the wall, instinctively parting from Seb and dropping his hand from his face, positioning himself half in front of him as he turned to face the source of the noise..

“There you are!” cried Christian with barely disguised relief colouring his face, clearly oblivious to what he had just stumbled across his two drivers doing. “We’ve been looking for you!”

Taking stock of the situation, Christian peered back at Seb with concern. He turned to Mark to check, “Is Seb okay?”

Mark affected a nonchalant grin before responding to his boss, who would no doubt be decidedly not thrilled to learn that Mark had just had his prized driver on his knees sucking his cock like it was his greatest passion in life. “Yeah mate, no worries. He just had a bit much to drink so we came out for some air.”

The worry cleared from Christian’s face. Obviously, Seb had just overdone it a bit and Mark was looking out for him.

“Y’know how it is with lightweights,” Mark chuckled, shooting Christian a conspiratorial look as he jerked his thumb back at Seb dismissively.

“Am not a lightweight!” Seb chimed in indignantly from behind him, suddenly slurring his words in a way he certainly hadn’t been before they came outside. Mark was concerned for all of five seconds, worried that maybe he had misjudged the situation and taken advantage, before cottoning onto Seb’s dastardly plan. He shook his head to clear his worry, feeling a little foolish. Seb had the situation all under control here.

Mark turned to face Seb, shooting him a wink. “C’mon then mate,” he said, “let’s help peel the team off the floor in there shall we? Then we’ll tuck you into bed for the night.”

Seb let out a little snort before following Mark and Christian back inside the club, feeling extremely satisfied with himself as he reached out to pinch Mark’s ass on the way in, laughing when Mark jumped in alarm and reached out behind him to swat at Seb in protest.

He could certainly get used to this.

#sebmark #martian #f1 rpf #ao3 #my fics #rpf #nsfw.txt #fic: nothing in my system (feeling what i feel for you)

[nico-di-genova]

Can u talk about charles' university times?

Also the flashback of him telling jules that he's quitting made me want to die 🩷

I can always talk about Charles’ uni years!!

So he’s a scholarship kid for the most part, his parents helped out where they could. He actually got a decent amount of scholarships though, enough to pay for tuition and housing, really all he pays out of pocket for is some of his books.

He kind of went crazy his first year, like partying every night crazy. Most of his childhood was spent with his dad and Arthur, and though he hung out with Lorenzo and Jules a lot, they never included him in their partying. So Charles, given his first bit of freedom in uni, very much went overboard.

He slowed it down once his grades started taking a hit, not anything major, most of his first year classes were stupid easy, but enough to make him realize he maybe shouldn’t be out every night.

Once his professors began to realize just how smart he is, they help him get onto projects that typically only upperclassmen work on. He quickly becomes known as “that genius kid”.

He starts to wear glasses during this time, because he’s always straining his eyes working late working with numbers and math that he writes in minuscule notes. He still wears glasses sometimes, only when he’s trying to prevent a headache because he actually hates how they look on him. Usually he wears them post race, when he’s going over data from the day. Max loves them, more than Charles knows, post race Charles curled up in their hotel room with his glasses and notes is probably his favorite Charles.

Also, Charles in the club? Unhinged, insane. Drunk Charles is dancing on tables halfway through the night, sweat drenched and flushed. He maybe starts going overboard with the partying because he likes the freedom he can feel when he’s drunk and uncaring. He’s so used to walking around with all this pressure and anxiety, feeling like everyone’s watching him, that when he’s in a dark club and surrounded by hundreds of people it’s a little freeing.

He’s hooked up in club bathrooms. Not a ton, but enough he’s familiar with the mechanics of it. It might come in handy in the future…maybe 👀.

His favorite class was Motorsport Vehicle Performance, taken in his third year. It’s what solidified for him that this was definitely what he wanted to do, not just have a hand in building the cars, but work with the data and simulations, work with a driver to achieve that peak performance. He took it all very seriously, maybe too seriously, tbh he was a major nerd. Charles in school vs Charles in the club, two very different people.

Dated exactly One (1) person during his uni years. She was in the program with him, they met during a mathematics and modeling class in their second year. Her name was Hannah, she was the only other person to consistently show up to class like twenty minutes early. Charles liked having someone to sleep with at night, even if it was cramped on his too small dorm bed. They broke up at the end of third year, after Charles spent weeks with Arthur at the track (Arthur was starting F4) and they just kind of grew distant.

Frequently begged Lorenzo to send him care packages because the food in the food hall was very much Not It. He never asked his mom, didn’t want to stress her out with everything happening with his dad. Lorenzo ofc always sent stuff. He also visited Charles at school when he could.

Idk, this is random rambling, maybe not what you were looking for. But know Charles looks back on his uni years fondly. And I could probably talk about it for hours.

#uni Charles in his hoodies with messy hair because he was too busy rushing around to brush it my beloved #kttl convo #keep to the line #kttl lore

[missingmywing]

Much shorter today, but both soft and angsty.

Ryomina Day 2: Stargazing/First Kiss (Ao3 Link)

These are all going to be continuations of Day 1 because I wanna explore this au more.

The amount of flipflopping I did trying to figure out if it’s even possible to see the stars in Kyoto - even at the stargazing spots - was… a lot, and I still didn’t get a definitive answer. All the pictures I looked at said no, but I also acknowledge that cameras aren’t always great, and they are called stargazing lookouts on various tourist sites. And the game and movie both show stars at night so we’re going to set aside the potential realities of light pollution and say that you can. And the first day of the trip is a new moon too, so it’d be a waste not to take advantage of that.

The hiking trail Ryoji drags Minato up against his will:https://www.insidekyoto.com/shogunzuka-seiryuden-hike-chion-temple

Also as usual, the song I listened to while writing this:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ox7Wt6fsm_A

Ryomina to Kimi no Na wa is somehow even more devastating.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Minato had never really gotten attached to things before this year - aside from the mp3 player and Death/Thanatos - so he didn’t really miss anything from his childhood. But the one good thing that he could admit to missing, if he thought about it, was wandering the streets of Inagawa at night and looking up at the stars.

The green distortion of the dark hour tended to obscure the light of the stars, but even when it didn’t the light pollution of Tokyo not far away - plus Tatsumi Port Island itself - largely blocked them out.

Which meant that when they went to Kyoto for the school trip, Ryoji apparently decided on his own that that meant they should sneak out and go to the nearby Shogunzuka Seiryuden Temple to see if they could see any. Apparently it was the best lookout in the city, and a good place to stargaze.

Minato had his doubts given how bright the city was, but Ryoji seemed excited so he didn’t argue and just let the Shadow-turned-Persona-turned-boy sneak them out of the inn on the first night there to drag him on the long walk to the foot of the temple, then the half hour hike up to the temple itself.

If it had been anyone else Minato would have been annoyed and turned around. Ryoji was very lucky Minato liked him so much.

… especially after those six days where he’d been convinced that he’d lost him after Thanatos just vanished from his soul before Ryoji just showed up to school (which he still hadn’t explained and probably wouldn’t).

But Ryoji hadn’t let go of his hand the whole time they’d been walking, fingers intertwined and arms swinging as he chattered about the various things he’d been doing and exploring around Iwatodai and Tatsumi Port Island in the ten or so days he’d been consciously physical. It was almost surprising to hear how much he’d been doing without Minato - it had felt almost like they’d been glued together since the moment Ryoji walked into class with a grin and flirty line.

(It had taken an enormous amount of restraint for Minato not to throw himself out of desk and storm up to the front demanding to know where he’d been - the sudden flood of emotions he’d been struggling with since Thanatos vanished and suddenly whatever emotional suppression effect he’d had on Minato had vanished along with him had been difficult - but he’d managed to limit his reaction to a narrowed-eyed glare. They’d all thought Aigis was going to break cover and shoot him on the spot before she’d managed to get her own instinctual reaction under control.)

But they still spent a decent amount of time apart, given how busy Minato was helping various Social Links and Ryoji flirting his way through getting to know the entire school - how he was doing that without getting murdered by half the school population Minato neither knew nor cared - so it shouldn’t have been the surprise it was to realize that Ryoji somehow knew an entire year’s worth of drama that he hadn’t been around for.

Minato really didn’t care about the breakups and revenge plots and planned confessions of various couples around the school but Ryoji looked like he was having fun so he let him talk and only partially tuned him out.

When he’d come on the Kyoto trip he really hadn’t expected to be dragged on a multi-kilometer hike, but… well it wasn’t awful. The air was chilly enough that he wasn’t hot, and the months they’d spent sprinting up floor after floor of Tartarus meant he could easily handle the hike.

It just would have been nice to have some forewarning - or even just taken a taxi up.

But Ryoji was determined to have as many experiences as possible in the three months they had before The Fall, and Minato couldn’t fault him for it.

No one could escape time, not even the two of them, so they might as well make the most of it.

The downward turn of his thoughts must have been apparent to Ryoji - of course they were, he’d spent ten years sharing Minato’s soul - because the boy squeezed his hand with a sad smile and then yanked him forward.

Minato yelped and scrambled to catch his balance, and then they were running. Sprinting up the stairs, chilly autumn air whipping at their cheeks and red leaves and stone path blurring around them as Ryoji laughed and led the way and Minato couldn’t even bring himself to be annoyed as he rushed to keep up.

It was exhausting and exhilarating, the world blurring and fading away until all he could feel were the pounding of his heart and the slap of his shoes against the stone pathway and Ryoji’s hand in his, all he could see was Ryoji’s beaming smile and eerie two-toned blue eyes glowing in the dark.

When they finally reached the top Minato had to stop and double over to clutch at his side as he gasped for breath. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how not human Ryoji was.

There was a reason only Aigis could keep up with him.

“Sorry,” the Shadow-turned-boy offered sheepishly. “You alright?”

“F-Fine,” Minato panted. “Just… just give me… a minute…” Too many nights running from the Reaper had given him stamina at least, and the sudden thought made him snort.

Ryoji tilted his head questioningly.

Minato finally managed to straighten and begin to even out his breaths. “Usually I’m running away from the Reaper, not trying to catch up to him.”

That drew a startled laugh from Ryoji as he set his hands on his hips. “I’m not the Reaper! I mean I’m kind of similar I guess, but we’re still different! The Reaper doesn’t come from Nyx, I don’t think.”

“It doesn’t?”

“Not that I know of,” Ryoji shrugged. “I think it just comes from… elsewhere, like most Shadows,” he waved his hand vaguely in the air, “-and is drawn to places where Shadows gather.”

“Huh… well, you’re still kind of a reaper, even if you aren’t the Reaper.”

Ryoji stuck his tongue out at him. “Fair enough I guess. Now come on, we’re almost there!” He grabbed Minato’s hand and returned to pulling him forward towards the path opening up into the viewpoint area.

It was a small observational area overlooking the southern sector of Kyoto, and in the far distance he could even make out the glittering lights of Osaka in the clear, moonless night.

The important thing, though, was the endless expanse of stars above them that he hadn’t expected to see.

Minato stared wide-eyed, slowly walking forward towards the railing with Ryoji trailing behind him.

They weren’t quite as clear as they’d been in Inagawa, but they were there and sparkling like thousands of tiny fireflies in the far distance.

He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed being able to see them, and was even more startled by the sudden choking well of emotion rising from his chest to his throat and spilling out from his eyes. Was he really crying over the stars?

The sudden unpracticed ability to feel a full range of emotion again was becoming inconvenient.

He reached up to scrub at his eyes and tried not to jump when he felt arms wrap unexpected around his waist as Ryoji rested his chin on his shoulder.

“It’s fine, you know,” he murmured in his ear.

“They’re just stars,” Minato shot back, leaning into his hug. “They’re pretty, but it’s not worth crying over.”

“Isn’t it?” Ryoji countered. “You’ve missed them haven’t you. What wrong with that?”

… what indeed.

“It’s not like they’ve gone anywhere. I just couldn’t see them.”

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to miss them.”

Minato had a feeling they weren’t just talking about the stars anymore.

Sighing, Minato reached down to intertwine their fingers. “It’s still annoying that I can’t control my emotions anymore.”

Ryoji snorted and pressed his face to Minato’s shoulder. “You mean that you have emotions again. You’ll get used to it - they aren’t bad.”

“Easy for you to say.” But Minato didn’t argue with him, just tipped his head back to stare up at the stars and try to remember the patterns of constellations. He could remember a few, tracing their paths with his eyes, and it was comfortable in the silence between them as he looked up at the twinkling lights in the sky and Ryoji looked down at the glittering lights of the city.

“It’s ironic,” Ryoji murmured finally. “I bet none of the scientists ever thought that the personification of Death could learn to value life, could learn to want to live and want humanity to live. I love you and I love them, and ten years ago I couldn’t have even imagined that I would be able to.”

Minato tightened his grip reflexively, trying to ignore the sudden burning behind his eyes and throat at the reminder. “I bet they’d be mortified,” he murmured. “Strega and Ikutsuki sure were.”

A wet laugh tumbled from the boy behind him. “Yeah, yeah they were. But I do. I do want to live. I want to live, and keep learning about people, seeing how they live and what they think. And I want to keep waking up every day with you and going down to the lobby to eat breakfast that Shinji made everyone while Yukari and Junpei argue and Akihiko and Mitsuru ignore them, and Fuuka tries to keep the peace while Ken sneaks Koromaru food from his plate, and Aigis tries to figure out why they’re arguing this time.” He was shaking, burying his face in Minato’s shoulder to hide his tears. “I want to stay with you forever, just like this.”

The tears had won the battle against Minato and they streaked down his face and turned the stars above them into a blur. He swallowed the knot in his throat and whispered, “Me too. I don’t want you to leave me too. I want to keep you here.” Wanted to drag Thanatos back into his soul, entwine them so strongly once more that he couldn’t leave him behind again. But they both knew he couldn’t - Ryoji’s very existence was proof that Death was whole once more, and a single human soul couldn’t contain Death without destroying itself.

But that didn’t mean he was willing to let go either.

Minato turned suddenly, startling Ryoji into loosening his grip, until they were facing each other. And it was a whim, a thoughtless, desperate motion to connect them once more that made Minato reach up to wrap his arms around Ryoji’s neck and pull him down to press their lips together for the first time. Ryoji froze for a moment before clinging more tightly to Minato’s waist and pulling him as close as he could.

And the kiss was awkward, wet with their shared tears and neither knowing what exactly they were supposed to do, but that wasn’t the point of it. Minato just wanted to be as close to him as he could in that moment, even if he couldn’t rejoin their souls. So it was awkward and desperate and not really good but it made him feel a little better to know it wasn’t just him.

That they were still the same even broken apart as they were.

When they pulled apart Minato tucked his head against Ryoji’s neck and just breathed. Ryoji clung to him just as tightly as he matched their breaths and they stood there. Together.

It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair, but they both knew that. There was nothing they could do about it - time came for them all in the end and they couldn’t close their eyes and cover their ears to hide from it. All they could do was live as much as they could until the end.

Minato found himself being dragged down as Ryoji suddenly fell backwards, until they were both sprawled on the concrete staring up at the stars once more. Minato’s arm was used as Ryoji’s cushion and his head was tucked against his shoulder and it wasn’t the most comfortable position but he didn’t want to move.

They just laid there, Ryoji occasionally pointing up to draw his attention to a constellation he either remembered or made up, and it was the calmest Minato had felt in weeks.

Time ticked ever onward though, and eventually Ryoji sighed and turned to press his lips to Minato’s head and murmured, “It’s almost midnight. Once the Dark Hour hits, I can fly us back.” His lips pulled up into a small smirk. “Save you the exhaustion of walking anywhere.”

Minato had complained about long walks to places before, even in his head, and while he didn’t hate exercise he wasn’t particularly thrilled with it either. Any other time he’d have been relieved at the offer.

But right here and now, in this extended fragile moment between them, with time ticking ever forward against them, he wanted to draw this out a little longer. Pretend for as long as possible that it was just the two of them and they had infinite time ahead of them.

So he just shrugged and said, “I can walk.”

Ryoji’s raised brow almost immediately morphed into understanding - of course it did - and his expression softened into something warm and pained. “If you’re sure. If we get back during the Dark Hour maybe Mitsuru won’t lecture us too badly about sneaking out.”

“And who’s fault was that?”

“I’ll take responsibility!”

“Somehow I don’t think that will save us,” Minato sighed, reluctantly sitting up. “We should go then. It’s around an hour to walk back so we’ll be cutting it close even if we leave now.”

“Good point. If we get too close I’ll just fly us the rest of the way, though.” Ryoji stretched his arms over his head and hopped to his feet, offering a hand to Minato. He accepted it and was pulled easily to his feet - but stilled as Ryoji suddenly too the opportunity to lean down and press another soft kiss to his lips. It was short, only a lingering moment, but something about it made his throat tight again and he pressed their foreheads together.

They lingered for another minute before reluctantly parting and turning to walk back.

The Dark Hour hit somewhere along the way, but alone on the trails with no coffins or Shadows around it felt distant and unobtrusive. The minutes stretched long and comfortable between them just as Minato had hoped they would, until they finally reached the city and its many coffins again.

They did not manage to sneak back to their room without Mitsuru noticing, but for once she didn’t lecture them. Just gave them a knowing look and told them not to sneak off under the teachers’ supervision. She looked… tired.

But then, most of SEES did after the harrowing few weeks and many revelations and near-fatalities they’d had.

They both reminded each other to rest at the same moment, and Mitsuru laughed softly as her expression lightened. It made something ease in his own chest.

They made it back to their room without further incident - other than Junpei made an excessive show of scanning them up and down as though looking for signs of indecency which made Ryoji wink and laugh and Minato throw a pillow at him - before finally collapsing on a futon and passing out.

He distantly heard Junpei trying to tease them for sharing a futon, but Minato was already falling asleep and Ryoji was more than capable of keeping up with Junpei.

He didn’t see the big deal - they’d technically been sharing a futon or bed for years whenever Death manifested, and Ryoji had basically moved into his room in the dorms by this point. But those two seemed to have fun with it so… whatever.

Minato was just satisfied to have Ryoji’s warmth against him as he fell into sleep.

~ ᙙᙖ ~

Much shorter, and more bittersweet than outright angsty than the last one. And very obvious Ryomina rather than implied.

It is still pretty sad though, I know, but that’s unfortunately what happens when you take an angst writer and ask them to try and write fluff.

So it may be obvious by now, but the idea is that this is an everyone lives/no one (on our side) dies route. Ikutsuki, Takaya, and Jin still die, but Shinji (if you want to reference my other fic Numb that’s basically what happens in this route, except add in some flashbacks towards his cousin too), Chidori, and Mitsuru’s father survive because as soon as Minato wakes up with SEES on crosses and Aigis under control he and Thanatos flip out and Ikutsuki ends up with the controller destroyed and himself very very dead.

Evokers might help with Persona evocation, but they aren’t necessary when someone gets in an unstable enough mental state and also has an excessively powerful and autonomous Shadow-turned-Persona in their head. SEES gets a little scared but Thanatos has gone rogue before and never attacked them so…

It’s a whole ordeal but Ikutsuki is the only one that ends up dead, so win?

(The “no one dies” thing does apply to Minato and Ryoji too though so there’s a lot of existential angst here for something that’s not going to happen. Minato and Ryoji are going to pull a Yu and Marie, and Ryoji’s going to absorb Nyx while Minato connects to the Universe and helps him fundamentally change how the draw towards humanity’s death works. Ryoji’s an eventual inevitable heat death situation for humanity somewhere along the line, but that’s so far into the future it’s not even foreseeable so it’s fine.)

#ryominaweek2023 #ryomina #persona 3 #ryoji mochizuki #minato arisato #makoto yuuki #soft and sad is one of my favorite things to write #when you know you're on a clock slowly ticking down #the end clearly in sight #but you just want that clock to stop ticking #also they love each other #and minato is not used to having a full range of emotions after ten years hosting death so he's trying and failing to adjust to /that/ #this may be a happy ending au but the characters sure don't know that lol

[lizhly-writes]

cnovel shenanigans: the actual beginning of the plot, from our og fmc's perspective.

Chen Lihua didn’t expect to run into Jiang Mingxi, which made a decent amount of sense.  Chen Lihua never really expected to run into Jiang Mingxi, not even when they had been back in college.  Their majors had been drastically different; Chen Lihua did theater and film, Jiang Mingxi did business.  There was no real intersection between the two.  The fact that they’d landed in the same classes anyway had to have been sheer, dumb luck.

Fascinating, considering Chen Lihua’s luck was so very bad.

Case in point: Chen Lihua runs into Jiang Mingxi.  Literally.

If Chen Lihua was a physics teacher, she’d slow this down for the sake of her students, add some labels and arrows for clarity’s sake.  Look at this freeze-frame: two forces, A and B, coming at each other from opposite directions.  What exactly happens here?

Force equals mass times acceleration.  Force A, Chen Lihua, was going faster than force B, Jiang Mingxi.  Assuming the same mass, then the collision would result in B being diverted from her course.  However, this assumed same mass; Jiang Mingxi was in fact, twice Chen Lihua’s size, and a solid wall of muscle, whereas Chen Lihua was mostly made of skin and bone.

End result: Chen Lihua bounces off Jiang Mingxi and ends up sprawled on the ground, a victim of physics.  How tragic.

“Ow,” said Chen Lihua, just a little late.  This was one of the occasions she really wished she liked skirts less, because that would’ve meant she would have been wearing pants, and thus, probably would have avoided the skinned knees.

Jiang Mingxi glared back at her, angry as always.  “Chen Lihua.” 

The anger was maybe a little bit warranted this time, because Chen Lihua had been carrying a coffee – really just her luck – and it had splashed them both.

Chen Lihua looked mournfully down at the fallen cup.  She’d barely gotten a few mouthfuls out of it before all of it had ended up on their clothes.  It had been a shame; she didn’t buy lattes like this very often, they were expensive and the caffeine hit wasn’t high enough for her to justify it as the energy boost she needed to get through the day.  She’d gotten one this week as a little treat for herself.

“Hi,” Chen Lihua said apologetically, grabbing the cup and straightening to a standing position.  “It’s been a while.  I never thought I’d see you here.  Sorry about…” she gestured at the coffee covering both of them.

Vaguely, she contemplated whether she needed to grovel for forgiveness.  She probably wouldn’t have needed to back in college.  The fact that they had been students meant that they weren’t expected to command the same kind of dignity as a true adult, and besides, Jiang Mingxi had liked her in college.  She never said it, but Chen Lihua had a brain; if she hadn’t liked Chen Lihua, there was no way that they would have spent so much time together.

Now, though.  Chen Lihua was honestly a little surprised that Jiang Mingxi still remembered her name.  Relationships weakened if they weren’t kept up, and Chen Lihua absolutely had not been doing any kind of keeping up with anyone.  It was quite possible that Jiang Mingxi didn’t think anything of her at all, now.  

Chen Lihua felt a tiny bit of regret at that thought.

Then she decided to grovel.

“Begging Young Mistress Jiang for her understanding,” Chen Lihua said.  “I really didn’t mean to spill coffee on you, is there anything I can do…?  I’m really, really sorry!”

Jiang Mingxi stared.  Her face was stuck in dignified incomprehension.

Chen Lihua got a solid ten seconds in about how Jiang Mingxi shouldn’t wreak unholy vengeance upon her.  More nicely worded, of course.  She didn’t really think Jiang Mingxi was actually going to wreak unholy vengeance upon her, but a lot of things never actually went the way she expected, so groveling was a good idea.  If Jiang Mingxi made her pay up to get replacements – well, there was no way.  That blouse Jiang Mingxi was wearing looked simple enough, but she was a rich girl, through and through.  It was entirely possible that the blouse cost more than Chen Lihua’s rent for the month.  Or the year.

Ah.  That got her heart racing. She really couldn’t afford to pay that.

“What are you doing?  Shut up, have some dignity,” Jiang Mingxi hissed, and the response was so much like what Chen Lihua would have expected in college that Chen Lihua… acted accordingly.

“Dignity is something for rich people, Jiang Mingxi.  I’m too poor to afford something like that, I already sold mine away.”

“What,” Jiang Mingxi said flatly.

Wow.  Chen Lihua hadn’t said something that shameless in a while.

#i'm a boy who transmigrated into a gl novel what am i supposed to do now?! #transmigrated as the female lead's villain fiance #chen lihua #jiang mingxi #original fiction #my writing #everything

[bakedbakermom]

Stained

Chapter 3: Smolder // start at the beginning

tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr

Honestly I am so pleased with this chapter. The dialogue, the characterization, the Vibes. If you read only one chapter of this fic, let it be this one.

smolder verb 1. to burn with little smoke and no flame 2. to exist in a suppressed state --- Conversations with dead people.

Four hours later, the coffee was long gone, and the heavy bags of snacks were reduced to nothing but wrappers and a scattering of crumbs. Xander, predictably, was snoring in the corner, Anya's head in his lap; she kept muttering in her sleep, and each time he would soothe her with a pat on the head, without either waking up. Tara and Willow had moved to the store’s loft, reading aloud to each other in shifts to keep awake.

Buffy had left for patrol shortly after midnight—“Not every vamp is as charming as you, Mulder,” she quipped as she loaded a crossbow into her bag—and Giles had gone home to comb through his library and check in with a few contacts on the other side of the world who would just be waking up. Spike at one point simply stood up and left, his leather jacket flapping behind him like the wings of a giant bat—a move Scully was sure he had practiced—and vanished into the night.

Even Mulder was slumped in his chair, dozing. She had rummaged up a blanket from the training room at the back of the shop, hoping it wasn’t somehow cursed, and tucked it in around him. He barely managed to mumble a “Thank you,” before drifting back to sleep.

Scully had spent so long staring at a scroll in a language she couldn’t even pronounce, let alone read, that the boxy little symbols were starting to make a worrying kind of sense; like a Magic Eye painting, if she let her eyes relax and her focus drift, they almost looked like tiny monsters.

She leaned back, her head swimming with a sudden exhaustion that bordered on delirium. She hadn’t slept more than three consecutive hours since they had landed in this sun-baked hellmouth, spending her days falsifying reports and medical records for Skinner to explain her and Mulder’s continued absence—given their track record, him being grievously injured on the job was a decent cover story—and her nights up to her neck in legends she still could only half-believe. All the coffee and junk food in the world couldn’t save her from the consequences. Her eyes felt gummy in her skull, her nose was clogged with the grime of thousand year-old books, and the room itself seemed to contract and swelter around her. She lurched to her feet, fighting back nausea, and rushed toward the back door.

The night air hit her like a wave and she gulped down its soothing chill again and again until the urge to hyperventilate or vomit had passed. Slowly the darkness receded from the edges of her vision and the bile eased back down her throat. She pressed her fists into the small of her back and arched her spine, releasing several satisfying pops.

“Tasty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone in the dark.”

Scully whirled around to face the darkness at the mouth of the alley, her gun drawn and aimed toward the source of the voice before she was even conscious of moving. A lean figure hunched against the wall.

“Might get snapped up by something dangerous.”

The figure inched forward into the light from the street lamp. Pale skin, white-blond hair, absurd leather jacket. She sagged with relief, hands shaking as she holstered her weapon. “Spike. You scared the hell out of me. Have you been lurking there all night?”

“Oh no, I’ve been lurking lots of places. A regular lurk-about, that’s me.” He swaggered down the alley and dropped dramatically onto the step in front of her. “Pull up some concrete, pet. I’ve got a few hours before I risk a serious sunburn, and I’ve got a fresh pack of coffin nails.”

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from the inside pocket of his long, black coat and used an unnecessary amount of flourish to light one with a silver Zippo. When he saw her look of vague disgust, he only shrugged. “What? It’s not like they’re gonna kill me.”

She huffed out an exhausted laugh, shaking her head at the sheer absurdity of her life as she sat down beside him. “Are you going to share that or what?”

“Pretty sure you’re not immortal, love.”

“There’s some debate about that, actually, but at this point I’m too exhausted to care.” She held out her hand and he passed her the cigarette, the ember of its tip glowing in the gloom.

“Possible immortality, is it? Funny, your man never mentioned that.”

“You guys talk about me a lot? In between shots of plasma, I mean.”

“Actually, Mulder talked about you pretty much all night. Scully this. Scully that. Scully, Scully, Scully. Do you even have a first name?

She took a deep drag from the cigarette, the smoke curling from her parted lips in delicate spirals. “Dana.”

“Lovely name for a lovely lady,” he said, taking it back.

“And what about you? I can’t imagine your mother looking down at her beautiful, bouncing, peroxide-blond baby boy, and proclaiming you Spike .”

He paused for a beat, considering her, then smiled a charmingly crooked smile and held out one pale hand. “William.”

They shook. The cold, dry flesh of Spike’s hand was almost beginning to feel normal.

“So, William, what exactly did Mulder say about me?”

“Sorry, pet. There’s a code. Like a bro code, but for fangy folk. ‘Dead men tell no tales’ or what have you.”

The dead were walking. A thousand-year-old ex-demon was napping on her boyfriend’s lap in the next room. She had fed her partner from her own veins. And an actual vampire was sitting next to her, quoting Treasure Island . Or possibly the Disneyland ride. Scratch normal , her life was a damned B-movie. An hysterical giggle bubbled up in her throat, and she covered it with a cough as she blew out another puff of smoke.

Spike either didn’t notice her small existential crisis, or else chose to politely ignore it. “I will tell you he feels bloody awful about what he did before he got all resoulified. Man’s only got a handful of bad deeds under his belt, but he’s got guilt for centuries.”

Scully’s memories of that night rattled loudly in the locked box of her mind she had crammed them into. She did not, would not, let them out. “I imagine you understand a little bit about that.”

“Not exactly. Don’t get me wrong, I was evil with a capital E, cutting a bloody swath across the continents for nearly two hundred years. And I enjoyed the hell out of it. Honestly not sure I ever would have stopped on my own, but I didn’t exactly get a choice. I don’t really spend a lot of time beating myself up about it, though.”

Scully arched a brow in curious surprise. “Your soul doesn’t torment you with grief during your every waking moment and drive you to desperate acts of penance?”

He laughed. “Been talking to Giles, have you? Sorry love, I’m not one to wax poetic about souls. Mostly because I haven’t got one.”

Mulder had told her Spike was reformed; the soul part she had just assumed. If he couldn’t feel guilt or remorse, what kept him from ripping out her throat? She froze, cigarette halfway to her lips, wondering if she should scoot away or reach for her gun again.

“Relax, Red. I’m not gonna hurt you. Actually, I can’t. See, a little while back, bunch of your government boys got the brilliant idea to do a little science project involving those of us who go bump in the night. Some got all Frankensteined up into proper bloody monsters; other lucky buggers like yours truly got our eggs cracked open and fancied up with some shiny new hardware.” Despite his clever delivery, his tone was bitter. “I can still rough up anything decently scaly or slimy, but all you soft, tasty humans are a one-way ticket to screaming bloody agony.”

She took a long moment to process that, the cigarette passing back and forth between their hands; when the filter began to burn, he lit another.

“I might know something about what it’s like to be subject to behavior modification via implanted technology at the hands of covert government agencies abducting non-consenting, vulnerable populations for the purpose of experiments involving nonhuman biological materials.”

Spike took a long moment to process that .

“All right,” he said finally, “I’ve decided I like you, so I’ll tell you the truth: souls seem like a whole lot of pain for not a whole lot of gain. I don’t even know that they do all that much; God knows there’s plenty of humans running around out there, souls intact, doing dirty deeds that make my skin crawl, and I know plenty of soulless fiends who are actually pretty decent people. All I know is I don’t need a soul to see how much Mulder is hurting, or how much he cares about you. If the Scoobies fail at this whole ‘cure the vampire’ quest—and I’m sorry if I’m the first one to tell you this, but they probably will, because it’s impossible, and personally I think he’d be an idiot to give up the night life anyway—but when they fail and he realizes he’s got a big lonely eternity without you staring him in the face, I’m a little bit worried he’s gonna go and get himself one hell of a tan.”

“I’m not giving up, and I’m not going to leave him.”

“Yeah, you will. If not on a plane in a few weeks, then in a pine box in a few decades.”

“So what am I supposed to do, just… not die?”

“Yeah! Exactly!”

“I don’t see how I can—”

“It’s easy. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

Scully paled, her throat bobbing as she fought down the revulsion suddenly brewing in her stomach. “You can’t mean—”

“Bitey bitey, sucky sucky, souly souly—though I think that last bit should be optional —and then you and our boy ride off into the sunset together. Well moonlight, I suppose, but you get my drift.”

Her mouth opened, closed, opened again, but no words came out.

“Just think it over, Dana,” he said softly, not meeting her eyes. For the first time, something like real vulnerability passed over his face. “Forever is a long time to be lonely.”

He rose, his swaggering mask sliding back into place so quickly she almost doubted it had ever slipped to begin with. He offered his hand to her with an exaggerated bow and pulled her to her feet. “Now come on; I don’t fancy going up in flames today, and I bet Spooky doesn’t either.”

—

Dawn’s rosy fingers were just brushing the horizon when Mulder and Scully arrived back at the motel. She felt the light running over her skin like a living thing, gentle as a lover; he shrank from it as if it would strike him.

“Wanna come in for a night cap?” he asked, smirking, as they reached his door. Scully’s hand flinched involuntarily toward her neck and his eyes grew wide, then sheepish. “Sorry. That’s not what I meant. Um. Good night, Scully.”

The door was halfway closed behind him when her hand shot out to stop it. “I can come in for a minute.”

He moved to the bathroom, and she went to the kitchenette to put away the containers of cows’ and pigs’ blood they had stopped to pick up at the butcher—which, for reasons no one in town would discuss, stayed open all night. Mulder would have enough for a few days, at least, now that he was learning how to make it palatable. She left the little jar of cinnamon on top of the microwave.

Feeling oddly anxious, she began to straighten the bed just to have something to do. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay in Spike’s crypt today?” she called to him. “He has cable; you can watch ‘Passions’ together.”

He poked his head out, toothbrush wedged into the foamy corner of his mouth. “That show has gone entirely downhill since Sheridan got amnesia.”

He vanished again, and Scully heard the sounds of spitting and running water. When he emerged a minute later, bare-chested and in sweatpants, he found her standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, hands at her sides. He slipped past her without touching her and sat on the bed. “Besides, I’d rather sleep in a bed.”

Instead of a coffin . Scully suppressed a shudder.

“Yeah,” she said, forcing a smile as she sat beside him and squeezed his hand. “I get the feeling his place is even less luxurious than this one. Besides: mini fridge, microwave, magic fingers. What more could a guy want?”

She tried to keep her voice light, but Spike’s words were still ringing in her head. Mulder was staring down the barrel of a miserable eternity—drinking slaughterhouse runoff, hiding his days away in the dark, watching cheesy soap operas with only the other dead for company. What if there was no cure? What if, this time, she couldn’t save him? How many times had they sacrificed everything to save each other, thrown themselves in front of bullets and monsters and the unstoppable machine of bureaucracy just to buy enough time to stagger their way to safety?

Maybe their luck had finally run out.

She stood to leave, desperate to find something else to occupy her mind, but his hand closed tenderly around her wrist, carefully avoiding the bruises he—or his monster —had made before. “Stay?”

“Mulder, I’m tired.”

“I know. Just for a little while? It’s… it’s worse when I’m alone.”

She finally looked at him, staring up at her with one of his more pathetic puppy-dog expressions, and something inside her broke. “Yeah. Okay. Just for a little while, until you fall asleep.”

He crawled beneath the covers, leaving room for her to slip in beside him. She curled up with her back facing him, hoping he would drift off quickly. That hope evaporated when she felt him shifting closer to her; his arm slipped around her waist, brushing the bare sliver of skin between the top of her pants and the hem of her shirt, and a current passed through her. She went very still, allowing him to pull her closer until they were spooned together on the little motel bed.

“You’re so warm,” he murmured close to her ear.

She tried to ignore the way her body tingled every place they touched, the way his breath skimmed over her skin, cool and wet like the promise of a storm. She hoped he couldn’t hear the way her heart began to pound beneath her ribs. “So you’ve said.”

“It’s true. I’ve always hated the cold, Scully. When I was a kid, I would turn my whole room into a blanket fort every winter. It drove my mom nuts. I’d swipe every blanket in the house and then refuse to come out for anything but pee breaks.”

Scully could just picture him, eight or ten years old, pillaging the linen closet for quilts and constructing his own personal Alamo filled with comic books and sunflower seeds. Keeping out the cold with all the power of fleece and a child’s unflagging will.

That the same cold now lived inside him, where no blanket or touch could thaw it, was another cruel twist of the knife.

“I’m not giving up, Mulder. Not when we’ve barely gotten started.”

“I won’t let you throw your life away trying to save me, Scully. How much longer are you going to stay here, up to your neck in demonology and monster manuals? How much longer can we convince Skinner I’m sick? He’s going to come looking for me eventually, even if it’s just to see if I’m fit enough for him to kick my ass back to the basement.”

She chuckled, and he smiled briefly into her hair. A moment later, his sigh sent a few red strands fluttering against her face. “I just don’t want you to follow me so far into the dark that you can’t find your way back.”

“It hasn’t even been a week yet. I’ve chased you further into the dark than this and come out just fine. And I intend to drag you out with me, into full, bright sunlight, without you crumbling to dust.”

“And if there is no cure? If I’m stuck like this forever? You still have a chance to have a life, Scully. I won’t let you waste it on me.”

She turned to face him, sadness and anger warring over her features. “Since when do you ‘let’ me do anything? It’s my life, Mulder, and I don’t consider any of this a waste.”

She didn’t want to bring it up, didn’t want to give credence to Spike’s insane idea by voicing it out loud to her partner, but she owed it to him to say something. Though her stomach clenched and she tasted acid in her mouth, she took a breath and said, “Spike thinks—”

His voice was bitter as he cut her off. “I know exactly what Spike thinks. And the answer is no. I wouldn’t do this to you. Not when you still have a choice. Not when you could go back to DC tomorrow, find some hot doctor who doesn’t question every little thing you say, and grow fat and old and happy on a sunny porch somewhere.”

She reached out and cupped his cheek, forcing him to meet her eyes. She had to step carefully here; they had developed a delicate dance together through the years, an unspoken rule to tiptoe around their equally unspoken connection, that thing between them neither could quite acknowledge let alone act upon, but had lately found increasingly hard to ignore. Especially when his face was inches from hers, and his arm still lay heavy across her waist, on that nebulous border where it could so easily slide into risky territory. “And if I decide I don’t want that?”

“There are some… conditions on this soul of mine, Scully. It’s not a done deal. I could lose it.”

“What? How?” And why haven’t you told me before now?

“If there ever comes a moment where I am completely happy, where I don’t feel guilt and torment about who and what I am, it goes away.”

“Don’t be vague, Mulder. Not about this.”

“The last time it happened… was right after the guy slept with the woman he loved.”

A lump welled up in her throat. “Oh.”

“Yeah. We’re not idiots, Scully.” She raised her eyebrow at him and one side of his mouth tugged up in a small smile. “Okay, you’re not an idiot, and I am sometimes only idiot-adjacent. We know what we mean to each other. If you stayed with me…” He flopped onto his back, staring up at the water-stained ceiling; he couldn’t get through this if he was looking into her eyes, but he did reach between them and take her hand. “If you stayed human, and we… then I lose my soul, and there’s a good chance that the last thing you’d ever see is me killing you. And then Buffy puts a stake through my heart. And not that I am in favor of this idea, but if we turned you and we… then we both lose our souls, we’d probably wind up killing a bunch of people, and then Buffy puts a stake through both our hearts.”

He paused for a long moment, breath shaking. “I don’t know if there is a way out of this together. And I want you to know, I’d rather you leave me than stay behind and pay for what I’ve become.”

She grabbed his face again, this time more forcefully, and turned him back toward her. Her voice and her eyes were filled with tears, but also a steely resolve. “There is a way, Mulder. There has to be. We’re going to find it. When have we ever given up on each other?”

His fingers twined around hers where they rested against his cheek. Slowly he pulled them to his mouth, brushing a gentle kiss across her knuckles. Neither spoke—what words could he say to the unstoppable force of her hope, or she to the immovable object of his self-sacrifice? They simply held each other, wishing they could keep out the cold.

A/N: It's incredibly rare for me that something I make turns out as well as I'd hoped, but this chapter is one of those things, and I'm rather proud of it. I so enjoyed writing it, particularly Scully and Spike's conversation. It was one of those unexpected surprises that pops up when characters grab the steering wheel, like I was just along for the ride. I hope they're BFFs now. Believe me there is absolutely a part of me that wants to see Vamp!Mulder and Vamp!Scully as some sort of undead Bonnie and Clyde, leaving a trail of bloody and beautiful devastation in their wake. But that's not this fic lol. Comments laminated etc etc

#stained #my writing #my fanfic #crossover #txf #the x files #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #fox mulder #dana scully #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #tara mclay #xander harris #anya jenkins #rupert giles #spike btvs