#so you know who’s gonna end up getting more aid

[eraenaa]

Imgonnagetyouback

Inspired by the song "Imgonnagetyouback" by Taylor Swift

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: The plan is clear. Get Rafe back after your breakup. 

Warnings: Possessiveness, Jealousy, ¡Kinda Biased Towards the Reader!, ¿Kinda Toxic Relationship?, Violence, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 3,826

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks since Rafe broke up with you, and only now did you begin to spiral. It was not as if it was your first breakup with him; you would admit you two had a handful of breakups during the duration of your relationship, especially when you consider that you two had been dating since middle school. But this instance was different; this was the first time that Rafe was the one to initiate the breakup. Before, it was always you who called it quits, and he would come to you on his knees, begging you to take him back. However, now, he was the one to leave, and a fortnight had already passed, and no word was heard from him, leading you to become inwardly frantic. 

“So this one’s official now, huh?” Sarah asked as you filed your nails, staring harshly at your phone, willing it to light up with a notification from your best friend’s brother. “The audacity he has to do this to me! Did I tell you how he broke up with me?” You asked, and Sarah said no, even though you had ranted to her the story at least twice. “We were just sitting here, watching a movie— we had not fought for at least a month, and then he just said, ‘Let’s break up,’ and fucking got up and left!” You groaned, remembering how you stayed up later that night waiting for Rafe because you did not believe his words and the ludicrous way he ended your relationship. “I hate him! I should smash up his bike to teach him a lesson. He’s so fucking immature!” You groaned and heard Sarah sigh, “I’ve told you that years before and hundreds of times after, but you just ignored my warnings.” You groaned once more and tightly shut your eyes. You feel Sarah go to where you sat, “What are you gonna do now?” She asked and you took in a deep breath. “I’m gonna get him back.” You stated, and from the side of your eye, you saw her expression grow confused. “What?”

“I’m gonna get him back,” You declared once more. “I’m gonna get him back then be the one to break up with him— a real break up this time. Like, totally over.” You say but that did not aid Sarah’s confusion. “He does not get to be the one with the final say. He does not get to be the one to end all of this.” You say. “No offense, Sarah, but I’m going to crush your brother’s heart.” You turn to her and watch her lips twitch. “Do you need help?” She asked, and that earned a genuine laugh from you after weeks of being stoic as you did not know if you should mourn your relationship or wait for Rafe to be standing with flowers at the other side of your door. “I’m gonna get him back so bad.” You say once more as your mind was already thinking of the ways to take your revenge. 

You played in the tennis court with Sarah, her already luring in Topper, and with Topper came your now ex, Rafe. They just came from a round of god, and you try your best not to grow distracted by his presence, you willed your stubborn heart not to admit that it had missed him. You bounced the tennis ball, waiting for Sarah to finish her conversation with Topper. You smirked to yourself as you felt eyes on your ass. Specifically wearing Rafe’s favorite tennis skirt of yours. Your mind conjured the memory of him almost drooling as he watched you step out of the fitting room, fashioning the tight, lilac skirt. Just like a moth to a flame, Rafe threaded towards your direction. 

“Hey,” He greeted; in his hand was a can of cold beer, and you urged your gaze not to be entranced by the veins on his rather attractive hand. There was just something about how he gripped things. “Hi,” you say, tilting your gaze upward and squinting your eyes as the sun is beaming down harshly. “How are you?” He asked, his voice holding an edge of tension and awkwardness. “Pretty good, we’re three, love,” You say and watch as his lips part as you intentionally use the nickname you used to call him in a phrasing that was completely ambiguous. It was exactly why you asked Sarah to lure them here to the tennis court, knowing it was the only appropriate setting where you could execute at least three parts of your plan to get him back. “Love?” He asked, his voice lower, and you nodded. “Yeah, love. Zero,” You say, your demeanor relaxed as if you were not at all affected that he ended your six-year relationship. 

You watch him wet his lips and take a chug of his beer. “About the uh… the— our break up,” He stuttered, and you gazed top at him innocently, “What about it?” You asked and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, your eyes catching the way the ball on his throat bobbed, his lips parting, and you could practically see his mind trying to form his words to address the situation. “That’s it?” He asked after a while, and you bit your lip, knowing he loved it when you did that action, convincing him that you, too, were trying to think of a response even though you already knew how the scene would play out. “Yeah, I suppose. I mean, ours was a middle-school romance; it has run its course.” You said and watch intently as how hurt flashes in his eyes before quickly covering it with cool detachment. “Why? Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” You ask, tilting your head to the side, noting how Rafe’s jaw clenched. 

Every word you uttered was like a bullet into Rafe’s chest. He must admit he broke up with you for no particular reason other than just being petty. The sudden breakup was just a result of his pride being wounded. Topper and Kelce had reminded him of the times you broke up with him and him being quick to go down on his knees and beg for you back. His ego could just not stomach the way they called him a ‘simp’ and ‘fucking whipped’ that he made a rash and ill-thought judgment. He was waiting for you to contact him, a call, a text, even a fucking smoke signal, just anything as long as you did the first move first. But two weeks had flown by, and not a word came from you. Now, to hear you say that you’ve expected your relationship to end— that you were practically just counting the days before its demise presented Rafe with sorrow, regret, and, greatest of all, rage.  

“Did you think this would end up in like a marriage or something?” The sentence echoed through Rafe’s mind. What the fuck did you mean by that? He remembered all too well the times you gushed about your futures. About how your wedding ceremonies would play out. What dress you’d wear. Where your honeymoon would be. The number of kids you two would have. The house you two will live in. Every specific detail of your future was thought of and was embedded in his mind, and now here you go, disregarding all of those sacred plans. 

“Rafe?” You called as he stood before you unmovingly, but you could feel him seething internally. You stepped closer and placed your hand on his arm to get his attention. You bit your cheeks as you feel his skin grow riddled with gooseflesh, a reaction that only you could elicit from him. You stared into his eyes, intense blue orbs that were starting to think twice about his decision. “Hey asshole, get out of the court, we’re trynna play!” You hear Sarah scream from a distance, and you step back and steal away your touch from him but not your eyes, as you wanted him to get the message that there was no apprehension or sadness in you about his decision to end things. Rafe stomped over to the side, standing next to Topper, him obviously agitated and tense. You turned to Sarah, and a knowing smirk appeared on both of your lips as the laid-out plans were going well. You were so gonna get him back. 

After your round of tennis at the club, the group decided to go back to Tanneyhill. You made yourself comfortable at the estate that was practically a second home to you. “Hey, Wheez,” You greeted as you went to the kitchens to grab a bottle of water. “Oh, you’re back!” She cried, and you laughed as you were enveloped in a hug by Rafe and Sarah’s sister, who was practically yours, too. “I heard about the breakup,” she whispered as she parted, but her hushed voice was moot as her older brother still heard her words. You were not quite sure what to say, but luckily, Wheezie spoke once more. “I mean, it’s not like it was unexpected, but still! I can’t believe you ended it; you were supposed to be my sister!” She exclaimed, devastated. 

“She didn’t end it,” Sarah came, and you watched as Wheezie abruptly turned to her brother, who stood next to Topper, who was hindering from laughing. “You idiot! You let her go?!” She exclaimed at Rafe, and you just stood there as Wheezie expressed her disbelief at her brother. “Shouldn’t you be out playing,” Rafe gritted as Wheezie’s reaction was only solidifying his regret. You bit your lip and perched yourself atop the counter as you watched the three Cameron siblings argue, Rafe trying to be rid of Wheezie and Sarah coming to their little sister’s defense. You turn to Topper, the two of you being a constant audience of this little family affair. 

In the end, Rafe, who was urging Wheezie to be the one to leave, was the one who stomped away. “Well, that went better than expected,” Sarah said. The three of you girls were left alone in the kitchen as Topper followed out his friend. “Still can’t believe that he was the one to break it off,” Wheezie said. You simply shrugged, “That’s why I’m trying to get him back,” You say. “So I can be the one to really end it.” 

“Wait, so, if you two aren’t dating anymore, who are you going to take to Midsummers?” Wheezie asked. And you feel your lips part as that did not even cross your mind. You and Rafe had always gone to Midsummers together. The event connected to many memories and many firsts for the two of you. “I guess no one,” You say. “But what if he takes someone else?” Wheezie asked, and you turned to Sarah. “We need to find you a date,” She quickly said, and you nodded. “Wait— but aren’t you trying to get him back to get back at him? If you bring a date, wouldn’t that like piss Rafe off more?” Wheezie asked as you three headed towards Sarah’s bedroom. “Exactly. Haven’t you noticed Rafe likes things better when he can’t have them?” Sarah asked, and you nodded along, recalling the times Rafe’s determination to acquire things that were dangled before him but were just beyond reach. 

“So, who would you take to Midsummers?” Sarah asked, “That’s an easy enough problem to solve; what I need now is something to wear for the party later,” You say and watch Wheezie and Sarah frown. “You’re going to that? You hate house parties.” Sarah frowned. “I do. But Rafe is going and it’s important for him to see that this whole ordeal is not at all affecting me,” You explained. “What? You’re going to flirt with other boys?” Wheez asked, and you smirked, “Duh,” 

 Rafe watched steely eyes as you sauntered into the room, taking the drink some dude handed to you and flashing him with a smile that had always been meant for Rafe. His fist clenched around his cup, effectively crushing the red solo cup as he watched you entertain the guys he had always kept a distance from you. His heart throbbing in his chest and his rage consuming him as you let one of them lead you towards the dance floor. Letting him stand behind you and let your bodies be flushed— letting him take Rafe’s place. 

You gritted your teeth as Rafe made no move. He only stayed on his spot by the side with some girl from your school who had always been over him since he was in the third grade and you were in the second. But even then, even though you two were just children, you two had always been drawn to each other. You huffed as you felt the vile feeling rising in you as a random dude kept dancing against you, and Rafe made no move— at this point in time, you miss his violent jealousy that you used to frown upon. 

You feel your heart still as your eyes locked with his. The silent language between you had gone mute and was now forgotten. Your heart clenched as he did nothing, only turned away from you and draped his arm around the shoulders of another girl. You staggered back as his actions stunned you and stung your heart. “Wanna get out of here?” The guy behind you dipped down and whispered in your ear, tugging at your hand. Your lips parted as you looked between him and Rafe, you waited a moment, willing him to turn around, but he didn’t. Is it really over now? You swallowed thickly and squared your shoulders, turning to the guy you were dancing with. “Yeah, sure,” You say meekly, and he grinned, pulling you away from the crowd and towards the bonfire lit by the shore. 

Rafe felt appalled to have his arms around another girl, but he had these theatrics to get you back. He turned back his gaze to the dance floor, searching for your gaze and making sure that the guy you danced with did not step a foot beyond bounds. Rafe felt his heart fall out of his chest as he realized you were gone. He quickly removed his arm from the random girl beside him and searched for you. “Sarah, where is she? Did she go home? Tell me she went home alone.” Rafe asked as he saw Sarah with her boyfriend. “Who?” She asked, feigning innocence. “Don’t fucking play with me, where’s my fucking girlfriend?!” Rafe seethed, eyes franticly searching for you. “You don’t have a girlfriend, Rafe. You broke up with her, remember?” Sarah asked, enjoying the panic in her brother. Topper laughed beside her, and Rafe shook his head. “Fuck you two, you really do deserve each other,” Rafe gritted and headed towards the beach. 

Rafe thought he had already uncovered every level of anger within him, but he was wrong. Nothing would compare to the rage he felt when he saw the guy you were dancing with holding you by your arms, trying to keep you still as you pushed him away as he tried to kiss your lips that were meant for Rafe. “Get the fuck away from her!” Rafe charged toward the guy and landed his fist on the guy’s jaw. Your eyes widened as Rafe suddenly appeared. You just stood there in shock, watching Rafe let out his rage on a guy who finally deserved it. It took a moment before your mind registered the severity of what was now happening; a crowd appeared and circled as Rafe and the guy fought. None even made a move to hinder them. You looked around and saw Kelce and Topper by your right, urging them to get Rafe, who was not at all phased by the crows that suddenly appeared. “You fucking force yourself on her! Fucking cunt!” Rafe screamed as his punches never missed his target. He was not at all tired of beating the guy who dared touch you, his mind not registering anything around him except the rage he felt. 

You feel your heart drop as the distinct sound of a siren sounded out, the crowd that had gathered quickly dissolving, but the presence of authority did nothing to sedate and calm Rafe. He was relentless in punching the guy even though he was already on the brink of unconsciousness. “That’s enough! Go home!” The sheriff screamed, and two other officers pulled Rafe away from the bloodied and bruised body of the guy. “This was not supposed to happen,” You whisper to Sarah as they push Rafe against the cop car and handcuff his wrists. You found yourself being dropped off at the station to post bail and explain to the sheriff what had happened. “He was just defending me; that guy was forcing himself on me, and luckily, Rafe was there to stop him.” You explained and turned your gaze to Rafe, who was in holding, staring blankly at the wall, his jaw and fists still harshly clenched. “Well, he did more than stop him,” The sheriff muttered with a sigh. “He’s not pressing charges, so your little boyfriend’s free to go,” the sheriff added reluctantly. You nodded and quickly moved to go to Rafe, whose cell doors were being opened for him. 

Tense silence surrounded the both of you as you stepped out of the station, and it followed the both of you until you reached Tanneyhill. You turned to Rafe, lips parting to speak, but he cut you off by placing his lips upon yours and cupping your cheeks with both of his battered hands. You melted at his touch, finally relenting and admitting to yourself that you had greatly missed him. When you two parted, you stared deeply into his eyes, deciphering clearly the thoughts he always struggled to word out. “You still love me,” You breathed out and felt your stomach twist as he nodded his head. “Of course I do,” He answered and kissed your lips once more. You wrapped your arms around him, your fingers lightly scratching his skull, his buzzcut hair prickling and tickling your soft palms. You feel him grip your ass once more, the telltale sign that warned you where this would lead. And though you missed feeling your body tangled with Rafe’s, you still needed answers. You were still deciding if your best-laid plans should be set on fire, skeptical that all of this was just his sleight of hand. 

“Why’d you break up with me?” You asked, parting your lips. Watching as Rafe huffed and tried to kiss you again, but you turned away and urged him to answer. “I was being petty,” He mumbled, and you heard him groan as you frowned at him and removed your touch. “Baby, please,” He said as you stepped backward, your eyes narrowing at his words. “What?” You gritted. “Look, I’m sorry. It was a stupid decision. The guys were giving me shit about how you were always the one to call it off! I just… I wanted you to be the one to come to me and ask for me back…” Rafe trailed as he had no better word to explain his reasoning for breaking up with you. “You broke up with me because of your fucking pride!?” You almost screamed in anger. “I’m sorry, baby, please; I was so stupid.” Rafe sighed and tried to pull you to him; the big man he was had gone for the moment as his blue eyes pleaded with you. 

You took in a deep breath and your senses were consumed by the smell of him. Your ears rang with the sound of his voice begging for your forgiveness. Your skin tingled by his touch. You breathed heavily and shook your head. “You’re so immature,” You sighed and pulled him down by his shirt to kiss his lips. Rafe smirked against your lips and savored the taste of you that he had longed for. “Am I forgiven?” He panted as you two parted; you stayed silent for a moment. Gazing at his eyes that were alight with hope. “Depends on how many times you make me come tonight,” You whispered against his lips, watching as his blue orbs turned dark. You shrieked as he hoisted you up and made you wrap your legs around him, hurriedly bringing you back to his room just to show you how truly apologetic he was. 

You hummed in delight as Rafe sucked your tit, his other hand pinching the other bud. His body pushed you against the back of his bedroom door, and your hips moved to seek friction. “I missed you so much, baby,” Rafe groaned between the valley of your chest, biting and sucking your skin, leaving it red and most probably bruised. You bit your lip in anticipation as he tossed you on his bed. He watched you with a smirk as he removed his shirt, the moonlight illuminating his muscled body. “Like the view, my girl?” He asked and slowly crawled atop your body, his fingers finding the zipper of your dress, but he was slow to undo it. “Stop teasing, you’re still not forgiven,” You groaned as his hand was trailing the inside of your thigh. “Oh, right… I’m sorry, baby,” Rafe hummed once more and placed kisses on your neck as his hand cupped your cunt. His fingers draw circles on your cloth-covered nubbin, his lips peppering kisses on your neck. 

You bit harshly on your lip as you pushed your underwear aside and finally felt the wetness he had caused. “So wet… you wanted me back as badly as I wanted you, huh, baby?” He hummed and watched as your eyes rolled back as he abruptly inserted his two fingers inside you, curling the digits and taking your breath away. “Rafe— I need you now,” You cried as his thumb laid flat on your nubbin. “Whatever you want, baby,” Rafe hummed and obliged your pleas. Stealing away his fingers and replacing them with his length. “God, so fucking tight," He grunted as he thrust into you. You could no longer hold in your moans as he pounded into you, the tip of his cock perfectly aligned with the spot in you that made you see stars and spew out moans that you were certain would be heard by those in the hallways. But you could not find care as Rafe fucked you senseless and made you reach your peak in record time. 

You panted as you came down from your high. Your boyfriend is looking at you through his hazy, lust-filled eyes. “Am I forgiven?” He asked, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, forcing him to lie on the bed and for you to be atop him. “Not yet.” 

#rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #jealous rafe #rafe cameron one shot #possessive rafe #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx smut #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #rafe x you #the tortured poets department #ttpd #taylor swift #imgonnagetyouback

[artschoolglasses]

Americans not giving a shit about the wildfires burning down forests and homes in Canada until smoke starts spreading across the border. Meanwhile Indigenous communities across the country are far more likely to be impacted by the fires and I’ve seen all of one link to a charity and about nine million memes. 🙃

#yeah yeah hashtag notallamericans or whatever the fuck #I’m just irritated watching people whine or centre themselves #like sorry your clothes smell like smoke gladys but people have lost their fucking homes #and the government does fuck all for indigenous communities #so you know who’s gonna end up getting more aid #but sure brad can’t go out for his usual morning jog because of the canadians #also all these fucking news articles making ir about america as if canada has somehow done this on purpose out of spite #someone buy me a punching bag for my birthday thanks #artschoolrambles

[gas-station-trackphone]

ftm trans Eddie Munson gets turned into a chew toy for hell bats and rescued in the 11th hour by his friends who don't know he's trans, who have to run some triage first aid and can hardly make sense of the blood and gore that used to be his body as they cut off his shirt and pants to get access to the worst of the wounds, who definitely aren't in their right minds well enough anyway to think of anything other than stopping the bleeding and getting him to a hospital, which they do, and miraculously Eddie finds himself blinking awake in a bright, fluorescent room feeling exactly like he imagines a chew toy for hell bats would feel in the aftermath which is to say: like shit. Even more miraculously, he finds hometown hero Steve Harrington posted up at his bedside with greasy hair (!!! Eddie never thought he'd see the day) and bags under his eyes.

The overwhelming relief on Steve's face when he sees Eddie is awake is touching, the misty eyes and cracking voice when he says god, i thought you were toast, man are downright flattering and, let's face it, giving Eddie all the wrong ideas that he figures he has an I-almost-died pass for at the moment so he rocks with it, let's himself indulge in the fantasy for a moment. Then, gradually, Steve's relief becomes more and more obviously some brand of deeply felt pity (or sympathy, but Eddie's never been good at distinguishing the two), which bursts his bubble enough to call him out.

"I know I look like what comes out the business end of a meat grinder, but I swear I'm good, dude. They definitely have me on the good shit, I hardly feel it. I'll be good as new in no time." Big fat fucking lie, by the way, but he'll say whatever if it gets that wounded puppy look out of Harrington's eyes.

"I...yeah, Eddie, I'm glad." And whatever it is he doesn't want to say, whatever is putting that you poor motherfucker look on his face, he's absolutely the opposite of subtle about it.

Eddie can hear the manifestation of his panic on the heart monitor.

"What? What is it? Is everyone- is Dustin-?" He can't say it, can't even think it, would rather be slowly torn to shreds all over again than know he failed at his one fucking task to keep the kid safe.

"No! I mean, yes, he's fine, they're all fine. Henderson's got a broken ankle and both of Max's arms are broken but the docs say they'll be fine in a few months with physical therapy."

The release of tension in Eddie's body hurts almost as much as the relief soothes him. "Okay then, what the fuck are you not telling me? It's fine, I'm a big boy, Harrington, I can take it."

He sighs, looking sick with it. "Eds...I don't know how to tell you this."

Oh god, what the fuck. Eddie's right back to freaking out because Steve looks inexplicably guilty, pained in the face like he's about to deliver the worst news he could imagine but if everyone's fine then-

"It's your dick, man. It's- it's gone. The bats-"

And Eddie laughs so hard he tears about a dozen stitches, immediately stops laughing, and throws up over the side of the bed and thankfully not all over his freshly reopened wounds as Steve shouts for help.

Eventually, when he's all stitched up again and barely hanging on to his hard earned lesson to not literally bust his gut laughing about the look on Steve's face (he has to force himself not to tell Wayne the specifics of how he ended up back in the OR, because he's absolutely gonna crack up and Eddie will definitely be unable to help himself from laughing with him), he realizes he's going to come out to all his friends in the very near future because holy shit, he has to tell everyone about Steve's utterly devastated expression at the news of Eddie's Ken doll-ification by way of demobat.

#I've been laughing about this in my head for WEEKS #the idea that steve feels so bad eddie got his dick eaten by demobats that he literally can't hide it and tells him immediately kills me #as always please read into the gay subtext here bc yes eddie also tells this story at their wedding many years down the line #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

[mionemymind]

Blood Drive

Summary: While donating at a local blood drive, Y/n stumbles up the best nurse in town, Wanda Maximoff. Unable to get Wanda out of her mind, Y/n goes through a lengthy process just to ask her out.

Warnings: Fluff, Blood Donations, Passing Out, Needles, Happy Ending

A/n: Not gonna lie, I think it's somewhat getting easier to write kissing scenes but I still have to look at a tumblr post just to figure out the wording for it. Let me know what you think :)

Word Count: 4.0k

Masterlist

In an era of new politics, the Mayor of New York City declared that registered heroes of the city had to do mandated community service. This was a new mission to help build relationships between the regular folk of New York City and the heroes that harbor it. Because let’s be honest, having Hulk throw your new car at the enemy was not the best introduction for regular people. 

Those who harbored powers relaying force or strength helped out in the trade industry. You’d often see super soldiers helping out in the demolition zone by crushing what was needed. Those with magic tried their best to help heal the homeless or aided at soup kitchens. Anywhere you can unconventionally help, the heroes did. 

For Y/n, it was a lot of physically demanding tasks. Such as helping families move from apartment to apartment. Or helping police officers move accidents out of the way. Sometimes, she would even demonstrate how to safely carry a person through a burning building for the local firefighters. 

Today, however, Y/n decided to do something different. Rather than focusing on the same physical tasks, she chose a simpler mundane task. “Hi there, are you here for the blood drive?” Y/n nodded in agreement to the receptionist upfront. “Just sign in for me right here. Have you filled out the online rapid pass?”

“Yes, I have the QR code screenshotted.” The receptionist smiled warmly. “Perfect. Someone will be with you soon. Please have a seat in our waiting area.” 

Y/n walked towards the waiting room area. This was the fourth thing on her list of community service opportunities to try. She wasn’t quite sure if her blood was even allowed to be donated, having the super soldier serum in her surely could cause a reaction to a regular human. 

After some tests back at the compound, the staff found everything to be okay. That’s how Y/n ended up in a place like this. 

“Y/n Y/l/n.” Getting up from her seat, Y/n followed a nurse in red scrubs to a different area. “How are you today?” 

“I’m good. I'm a little nervous. I’ve never done this before.” The nurse led them to a private part of a huge common room. Multiple stations were built throughout with various people donating blood. “It’s okay to be nervous, but the worst feeling you’ll get today is just a small prick.”

Y/n breathed out slightly in relief. “Let me first get your basic information.” The nurse had gone over Y/n’s personal information but was immediately flagged by the date of birth. “It says you were born on April 2, 1917. It must’ve been a typo.”

The nurse almost changed it to 1971. “Actually ma’am, that is the correct birth date.” 

“So you mean to tell me you were born during World War I?” The nurse was unwilling to believe the joke that was being played. Y/n could immediately tell from the look she gave. “It was the Great War at the time, but yes ma’am I was born in 1917. I’m actually a super soldier.”

The nurse went back to her computer and typed in more information to store on Y/n’s file. “Ah - I see. I’m sorry about that. There’s already a note on your file. It looks like your director has already approved your donation today.” 

Y/n sighed in relief, while she didn’t mind explaining to people her situation of being frozen for so long, it was strenuous trying to get them to understand it all. The rest of the consultation went along smoothly as she gathered the remaining information such as Y/n’s hemoglobin and her rapid pass. 

“Alright dear, let’s get you to a bed.” The nurse led them back to the common area where all the beds were laid out. “Just sit right here for me, right now we currently have a special volunteer today that’s helping out with the drive. She’ll come over in a couple of seconds to help you out. But if you have any questions, please feel free to let us know.” 

Y/n sat up on the reclined bed and looked at her phone. She scrolled through her messages to make sure nothing important was happening. The sound of someone clearing their throat gained her attention. “Y/n?” As Y/n looked up, she could physically feel the moment that time stopped again. Was it possible that she fell back into the ice again? Surely she would feel the same numbness as before. But it was all different. Because from just one look from this girl would be enough to melt all the ice away. 

Y/n’s breath hitched as she locked eyes with her. “I- yes, that’s me.” Y/n cleared her throat, embarrassed at the lack of composure she had. 

“Nice to meet you today. My name is Wanda Maximoff and I’ll be helping you with your blood donation today.” All Y/n could do was nod as she further realized that the woman in front of her was the Scarlet Witch. 

Wanda looked through her notes on the clipboard. “It looks like it’s your first time donating, is that true?” Y/n’s eyes remained locked on Wanda. It was embarrassing how much she couldn’t look away. “Uh yes. It is.”

“Do you have a preference on which arm you would like to use today?” Y/n shook her head in disagreement. “No preference at all.” 

Wanda wrote down more information when a note caught her eye. “S.H.I.E.L.D. approval - are you a member?” Wanda looked over at the young girl in front of her trying to see if she could remember the pretty face.

“I’m one of their new recruits. Only been active for three months.” And suddenly, Y/n seemed to never mind all the questions that Wanda could possibly ask. If it meant talking to her, Y/n would oblige. 

“That’s great to hear. If you don’t mind me asking, do you have any powers that we should be aware of?” 

“Well, I think you’re aware of my counterpart, Bucky Barnes. We both have a super soldier serum.” Wanda smiled at the mention of her old teammate/acquaintance.

 “Interesting. How come I haven’t heard about you before?” Wanda couldn’t shake the feeling that somehow she had managed to miss this girl for three months. 

Y/n scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “You know how Steve was found in ice right?” Wanda nodded. “That’s basically the same situation I was in but rather than crashing into the arctic, I was in a freezer chamber. I’ve been awake for only ten months.” The shock on Wanda’s face was apparent. 

“Sorry to keep asking,” Y/n never minded, “how has it been like adjusting back to the new life?” Y/n shrugged indifferently. 

“A little rough. I do miss my friends back from my time, but Bucky has been trying his best to help me. However, he has been focused on helping the new Captain America, Sam?”

Wanda nodded, confirming that Y/n’s information was correct. “I do enjoy the fact that I’m no longer Hydra’s soldier though. More than anything, I’m just glad to have a second chance in life. Not a lot of people get that so I’m pretty thankful.”

Wanda digested Y/n’s words and was pretty enlightened at Y/n’s outlook on life. “Thank you for answering all my questions.”

“It’s no problem.” 

“Now, let's get you set up to donate.” Wanda proceeded to bring out a couple of items from the nearby stand. On the table beside Y/n, Wanda placed various tubes and empty bags. Although it was nothing, the sight made Y/n feel slightly uncomfortable. It reminded her too much of Hydra’s labs but minus the dark atmosphere and torture that came with it. 

As if sensing her discomfort, Wanda grabbed a disinfectant and started to disinfect Y/n’s left arm around the area inside her elbow. “Ya know, for being so nice and cooperative. How about you ask me a couple of questions? It makes the day go by faster.” 

Bringing herself out of her internal thoughts, Y/n asked the first thing that came to mind. “You’re the Scarlet Witch, right?”

It was Wanda’s turn to blush. She hadn’t expected Y/n to recognize her so quickly, especially since she just got back to the real world.  “I am.”

“I wasn’t aware that you could help with the American Red Cross as part of your community service.” Wanda grabbed a marker and a squeezable toy. She placed the toy in Y/n’s left hand stating, “Give me three big squeezes and hold on the last squeeze.”

While pressing around Y/n’s elbow, she continued with, “I had to do some training to get qualified. A lot of the people who use magic generally help in other areas.” Wanda marked a dot followed by a line. “You can stop squeezing now.”

“I’m gonna disinfect one more time and then I’ll have to poke you. Are you scared of needles?” Feeling more embarrassed, Y/n looked away as she said, “Yes.” 

“All good. Just means I’ll have to give you a small distraction.” Wanting to distract herself even more, Y/n asked, “Why did you decide to do this rather than something in your wheelhouse?”

Wanda thought about it before replying with, “I like the normalcy of it. On the plus side, it feels more rewarding. Like I’m actually earning my community time rather than going the easy way of using my powers.” As Wanda finished disinfecting, she blew on Y/n’s elbow hoping it would dry fast. 

“When I give you the go-ahead, I’ll have to ask you to give me three more squeezes and hold on to the last one, okay?” Y/n nodded and waited for the signal. 

“And - go.” Y/n did as told, but as she did her last squeeze and held, red wispy magic flowed in front of her morphing into swirls in the air. “Woah.” She followed the magic with her eyes, not even noticing that Wanda had already poked her and started the transfusion. 

“Should be about 10 minutes. Every couple of seconds give the toy a small squeeze to keep it going.” Y/n glanced away from the magic amazed with Wanda. “That didn’t even hurt.” For the first time in Y/n’s life, she didn’t scream when the needles came. 

Wanda couldn’t help but keep the magic up for a little longer. The dopey look on Y/n’s face was something she didn’t want to go away. 

“I told you I would distract you.” Y/n was at a loss of words. Her brain jumbled for anything but all she could focus on was that Wanda Maximoff successfully distracted her. She had a natural caring heart, something the media failed to show. 

“Your magic is beautiful by the way.” Y/n savored the last few seconds of it before it completely disappeared. 

Wanda’s magic has been called many things in life, powerful, destructive, and manipulative but none have ever said beautiful…till now. “Thank you Y/n.” 

There was a small silence as Wanda stayed to make sure Y/n was okay. “I’ll be assisting other volunteers, but if you start to feel like you're fainting, just call me over, okay?” 

“I will.” Would it have been wrong to immediately fake an injury just to get Wanda back? Possibly but Y/n weighed the consequences and none could compare to her. So as Wanda left, Y/n used her free hand to call Bucky. After a couple of rings, he picked up the phone. “Hey, Y/n.” 

Getting straight to the point, “Is Wanda Maximoff single?” 

“Uhh - I think so. She and this synthezoid, Vision, used to date but I believe they broke up a year ago. Why do you ask?” Y/n looked at Wanda who was across the room. Her radiant smile could be spotted from miles away. “Just wanting to gather intel. Thanks Bucky.” 

Y/n hung up the phone, not caring about what Bucky had to say back. Her eyes lingered back to Wanda. No matter how much she distracted herself with her phone, her eyes always glanced back on Wanda Maximoff. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail and all she wore was matching red scrubs. But everything about her looked and felt beautiful. 

Little did Y/n know, Wanda was admiring her too. 

The blood donation was soon over, quicker than Y/n anticipated.  Wanda had already come over, stopped the machine, and disconnected the line from Y/n’s arm. She taped a cotton ball on top of the area she poked and proceeded to wrap a red bandage around Y/n’s elbow.  “You keep this red bandage on for two hours and the cotton ball for four hours.” 

Wanda grabbed a pamphlet that had Y/n’s personal information and gave it to her. “Don’t miss a single meal for the next eight weeks. Make sure to drink plenty of water as well. If you feel dizzy in the next couple of hours, be sure to call this number, okay?”

Y/n nodded. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment, trying to find ways to ask Wanda Maximoff out. “Do you have any questions for me though?” 

Y/n opened her mouth, wanting to ask her, “Are you busy after this?” But nothing came out. And the more she tried to say words, the more silence that remained. 

“Wanda!” The pair turned to the employee that shouted her name. “I have someone that needs your help after you're done with your current volunteer.” 

“Understood.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. “We have snacks and shirts over there but I think you should be good now. Thank you for donating today.” 

As Wanda walked off, Y/n couldn’t help but beat herself up for not asking. She took a couple snacks and juice boxes before walking out of the donation center. 

Was Y/n in love? Not quite yet. Infatuated? Probably. It was the best explanation as to why she was back at the blood drive the very next day. The brown eyed girl paced around all night trying to think of ways to see Wanda again. And the very first realistic idea she thought of was to donate blood again. 

The super soldier practically begged the compound to give her another approval to donate blood stating that her super serum allowed for faster recovery. When no one could argue with her logic, they allowed a special approval to donate so soon. 

So when Y/n followed all the same directions, all the same questions, she was met with disappointment when she didn’t see the redhead that captured her mind. “Hi, my name is Lucy and I’ll be helping you today.” 

As Lucy proceeded to set up, Y/n couldn’t help but ask, “Is Wanda Maximoff here today?” 

The blonde shook her head with a small smile. “I’m sorry dear. She’s not going to be here today.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the frown that escaped. It was stupid to think that Wanda would come back the very next day, but she had hope. 

And as much as Y/n wanted to ask when she’ll be back, she knew the blood center wouldn’t give out information like that. Regardless, Y/n was determined. She was going to see Wanda again. 

It was a new month and a new day. Although Y/n was glad to help a good cause, her hope waned as each day passed with no Wanda. By now, everyone in the blood center knew Y/n by name. On the bright side, the other volunteers were not bad to talk to but none compared to her. 

So as Y/n sat down once again, she scrolled on her phone, expecting much disappointment. Until the voice that captured her heart called her name. “Y/n?”

She looked up from her phone and saw that familiar smile that was ingrained in her head. “Wanda.” Y/n couldn’t hold her smile back as she finally saw the girl that she’s been begging to see. 

“Looks like you’re here for you…18th donation? Look at you being a star citizen.” Y/n blushed knowing that those donations were mainly for something else. “I think by now you should know the drill. Are there any concerns you may have?”

Wanda looked back at Y/n, ready to disinfect her arm. “I-” Y/n’s brain short circuited at the feeling of Wanda’s hands on her arm. It was like everything that she wanted to say suddenly left her brain. But the feeling was just on the tip of her tongue. 

“You know, they should give you a badge or something for donating so much. I didn’t even know that was possible. Didn’t you start donating like last month?” Again, not a single thought formulated in Y/n’s head when all she could focus on was how soft Wanda’s hands were. Because if Y/n was able to focus, she would be able to say that her donation was 17 days, 13 hours, and 5 minutes ago. But who was counting? 

Wanda looked back at Y/n’s chart to confirm her suspicions. “Are you still scared of needles though?” And that’s when Y/n finally got back into the real world. For all the times she’s been back, she’s had to look away from the needle while using a nearby pillow to control her nerves. 

“I think I might need your magic again.” Y/n blushed at the request but felt proud at the smug look that came from Wanda. “I might have to start charging you for the show.” 

With sudden blind confidence, Y/n asked, “Let me take you out on a date in return.” Wanda almost missed the vein at Y/n’s sudden question. She had an inkling that the girl liked her but never expected her to actually pursue her thoughts. 

“You didn’t even need it.” Y/n looked down and saw that Wanda had poked her without realizing it. 

“Does that mean you won’t go?” Wanda looked at the time on the clock and smiled at Y/n. 

“It actually means you have three hours till my shift is up.” Wanda patted Y/n’s arm, reminding her to squeeze the ball in her hand. “So pick me up then. How should I dress?”

“Something casual. I hadn’t really planned out what I was going to do after you said yes.” Wanda blushed at the idea of Y/n practicing this moment. 

“How about this? You and I walk around New York. I don’t think the guys have given you much of a good tour. So I’ll tell you all about the new New York and you tell me about the old New York.” 

“You have a deal.” 

Wanda and Y/n were in the back seat of an uber. The small date was something Y/n never wanted to end but the lack of energy made it hard to keep up. So when Y/n asked if it could be an early night, she was relieved that Wanda wasn’t mad at her. 

Right now, the uber was at a stoplight and the two hardly spoke as their shoulders touched. 

“Can I hold your hand?” Y/n whispered as she lightly placed her hand above Wanda’s. The small smile was hard to miss on Wanda’s face. She could feel Y/n’s internal battle to ask her that. She leaned into Y/n’s ear and whispered, “You don’t even have to ask,” and pressed a small kiss on Y/n’s cheek as they interlaced hands. 

A small blushed and a wide grin appeared on Y/n’s face. “I hope you had fun today.” Looking away, Y/n yawned into her hand.. “You tired dekta?” 

Looking back at her, Y/n tilted her head in confusion. “Dekta? What does that mean?” Wanda blushed more. She hadn’t meant to call Y/n that, but it left her lips so easily. Like it was second nature. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Wanda placed her left hand on Y/n’s bicep and gave it a small squeeze, “Aren’t you supposed to be a super soldier? It's barely past 10 pm and you’re already tired.” Y/n scratched the back of her neck, slightly embarrassed at how tired she was. But all Wanda could focus on was the feeling of Y/n’s muscles as she gave one more squeeze. 

Y/n yawned again, unable to fight the sleep that took over her body. “It’s what happens when you donate blood every day to try and see a pretty girl.” They hadn’t even kissed but Wanda could’ve sworn she was in love. The dopey smile on Y/n’s face would make any girl’s heart melt. The red head mentally thanked that it was her that Y/n was looking at and nobody else. 

“You did that for me?” Y/n could think of many things she would do for Wanda, rescue a billion people, punch a hole in the moon, even kidnap someone. Regardless of how unrealistic it was, Wanda Maximoff was worth changing the tides on Earth. So how could someone so wonderful could ever question that someone would do something for her attention? 

“I wanted to see you again.” Y/n bit her inner cheek, trying her best to stay calm but all she could think about was how soft Wanda’s lips looked. 

The red head hadn’t meant to hear that thought, but she was glad she did. She bit her lip wishing that Y/n would just kiss her already. But something about the way they stared into each other's eyes was already enough for her to feel alive. And for someone so sober, her body grew drunk at the touch of Y/n. 

“So you donated blood to see me?” It was still all unbelievable to Wanda but Y/n would tell her a million times until she believed it.

Their eyes interlocked causing Wanda’s breathing to hitch. She swore she could look into those brown eyes forever. “18 pints and counting.” Y/n couldn’t hold back her grin as Wanda looked away, unable to hold back her wide smile. 

Y/n gave a gentle squeeze in their interlaced hands as Wanda turned back to face Y/n. “You’re gonna get yourself sick if you keep donating.” Wanting to focus on something else, Y/n caressed Wanda’s cheek as she tucked a loose strand back. 

Not wanting her touch to go away, Wanda placed her hand above Y/n’s. So many thoughts ran through both of their heads. Wanda could feel the weight inside Y/n’s mind but didn’t dare to peak. 

“Tell me what you’re thinking…” 

“...I think you’re really pretty,” Y/n admitted in secret. 

“What else?” Y/n rubbed her thumb gently across Wanda’s cheek. 

“I think I want to take you out on a second date.”

“Oh yeah?”

“And I…I think I want to kiss you.” Wanda swallowed all the nerves in her chest.

“...I’d really like that…” And as brown eyes looked at greens eyes one more time, Y/n slowly leaned in and kissed Wanda. There was no rush with each kiss, something Wanda never experienced before. All she could remember was the sloppy kisses and fast make outs. But something about kissing Y/n slowly drove heart mad because how dare she live this long without being kissed like this. 

And as they kissed, their hands never broke apart, instead, they gave gentle squeezes with every kiss. And when slowly pulled apart, Wanda knew then she was love sick. 

Bonus

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky rubbed his forehead, feeling the headache coming forth, “Y/n passed out from kissing you?” 

“Well, the kissing didn’t help but she also donated 18 pints of blood in the last three weeks.” Wanda looked at Y/n’s sleeping figure. Her head rested comfortably on Wanda’s lap. 

Bucky sighed. “Okay, I’ll meet you at her place.” 

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#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #fluff #Blood Drive #mionemymind #wanda maximoff fluff

[i-cant-sing]

Okay but like you guys know how Toji killed Riko Amanai because she was the star plasma vessel and he hates the Jujutsu world?

Imagine that after killing Riko and just narrowly escaping Gojo and Getou, promising to kill every Star plasma vessel just to spite them, he has a daughter- you, and its revealed that you're the next star plasma vessel, a perfect match for Tengen to merge with and prevent forced evolution, and now Gojo and Getou are sent put to capture you and bring you to Tengen.

And they go, not because they want to bring you to Tengen, but because they want to protect you from Toji, only to find out that you're his daughter that has him wrapped around her tiny finger and oh oh THE HYPOCRISY???? So as long as you're his daughter, TOJI WONT KILL THE STAR PLASMA VESSEL?????

Ans Toji's all like- "ohh you guys don't need to worry about Y/n, I'll take care if her and protect her from anyone and everyone. Yall better leave rn unless you want to have a horrible death." Meanwhile, toddler reader is just in her own little world as she's spinning around in circles because it's fun when the world is spinning and makes her stumble.

Anyways, Gojo and Getou don't believe him, and even if they did, they won't just let him go that easily because fuck that guy, he killed a teen and now has the gall to stand there like he didn't kill an innocent kid.

And Gojo is all like "fuck that, we gonna kill your kid too bitch." He's not, but he's gonna make sure Toji feels scared and doomed before dying.

Immediately, Toji has whipped out all of his weapons, pushing you behind him, and just then, out of thin air, the entire Zenin clan appears to Toji's aid because yes, they hate Toji too, but they adore you and they eint letting white haired bitcha and his emo Buddha bf take you.

As the battle begins, there's someone from the clan who's keeping you safe, moving you away from the battle ground so that you don't end up getting hit, and obviously, they put some headphones and sensory videos on their phone to keep you distracted from the fight. Meanwhile, there is absolute chaos on the field, Getou and Gojo being merciless as they kill one clan member after another.

Eventually, one of the attacks ends up blowing away your "bodyguard" and you're just there alone, unattended and unsupervised, so naturally, you look to the ground and see Gojo wielding Hollow Purple, and you don't know what that is except for a purple orb and since your dear uncle Naoya had been forcing you to take tutoring from the best teachers in tge world, you had learned color theory and immeadiately, without knowing the consequences of your actions, you throw out a yellow orb directly at the purple orb because you were taught in art class that "yellow cancels out purple", but now everyone is looking at you like "did a kid just- neutralise the most powerful Jujutsu technique???? Without so much as breaking a sweat?" And you're just giggling nd jumping up and down, calling out to Naoya "see uncle Naoya??? Those classes were not a waste of money!"

And that's when everyone noticed-

You're alone.

Naobito is immediately yelling at Toji to "collect your chaotic child before she reveals more of her powers and becomes everyone's target!" And Gojo is like "??? Um wtf?? Did a child just beat me???", while getou is springing into action to get his hands on you before Toji can.

Toji beats him to it, grabbing you with one hand while the other pulled out his sword. Getou summoned his own curses to help him attack Toji and simultaneously save you. As the two began fighting, Gojo sent another attack to Toji, who in an attempt to save you, shielded you with his body while taking the impact of hit.

As Toji was down, you were taken away from him by Getou, and while you didn't understand just what happened to your dad, you were becoming distressed as he didn't respond to you. And with your distress came a change in your cursed energy, which Getou recognised and he knew sooner or later, you will have an outburst of energy and hurt everyone in the process, because you're just a kid who doesn't how powerful she is.

So, yanking on Gojo's shoulders and telling him to leave the other members of the clan because they need to leave right now, the three of you teleported out of there.

Anyways, Gojo and Getou decide to take you in because there's no way they're giving you to Tengen, and taking you back to the Zenin clan was also out of the question, AND not to mention, they want to discover more about your cursed energy and help you control it. I mean, Getou wants to help you learn your powers and also give you a normal childhood, Gojo is slighted that he got beat by a child who didn't know what she was doing and he's low key concerned if you're gonna be a threat in the future. So... why not just take you in, and act like your parents because you're a gullible child who'll believe anything, and really has the attention span of a goldfish.

And at first, things were great because Gojo was like a chaotic parent who adored bullying you, while Getou was the calm and collected parent who helped you calm down as you swore you were gonna Hollow Purple Gojo if he kicks the back of your knees one more time. But everything changed when Getou parted ways with Gojo because he wanted to "kill humanity because they're all selfish and cruel🥰" and Gojo was like "babe, no, it's my job to be the sadistic one as a joke and you're the one who's supposed to laugh and say no, humans need us to protect them🥺" but Getou is like no, fuck that. And then Getou is like, well you can give Y/n to me because I love children and I love taking care of her, and Gojo is like "no." While holding a very struggling child that wants to scratch his face off, and Gojo only said no initially just so that there's something for Getou to come back. He knows how attached and fond Getou has grown over you. But Getou just sighs and goes "aight. Shared custody it is then. See you in 8 months, Y/n! Give your papa a kiss🥰" and you do.

And yeah, everyday since Getou departure, you can see the changes in Gojo's behaviour. It's not bad exactly, he's depressed for sure, and he's doubting his principles every step of the way, BUT he's kinder to you and to humans in general now. Meanwhile, whenever you do meet papa Getou, with Gojo's supervision cause my man doesn't trust Getou to not take you away and turn u into a killing machine, you can see the changes in Getou's personality too. He may still have that same kind, noble, shaman facade going on, but you see the way he looks down on the weak and on the non sorcerers. You see how he uses people as means to achieve his ultimate goal. Sure, you can also see that he still adores you, but you... dont know if you still love him with his view of the world.

Then one day, it happens. Gojo has finally killed Getou, not because of any ill intent, but because he simply threatened his students and the innocent people of Japan. And even though you knew this day wold eventually come, you still didn't forgive Gojo for a long time. You cried and fought against him, until Gojo had to eventually knock you out just so that your breakdown wouldn't unleash cursed energy and endanger everyone.

After Getou's death, Gojo's behaviour towards you and in general did a whole 180. He became the kinder, softer, gentle parent towards you. The empathetic teacher who pushed you but also consoled you when you failed, instead of the previous Gojo who would ridicule you for failing to master a technique.

Getou's death had definitely changed Gojo in other ways too. He had become more protective of you, always keeping you around because he couldn't bare the thought of losing someone else (Riko, Getou, etc). He keeps a close on you, watchubvvyour development and progress like a hawk because he knows you will soon be wanting to help him on missions, or worse, go solo. He doesn't want that, he can't have that. So the more you push Gojo to let you be independent, the more he tells you to sit down and practice more because you're just not ready yet.

Then one day, you reach your braking point and just- leave when Gojo is busy with his students. And this turned out to be a big mistake because the moment you had left Jujutsu High, it seemed like you were surrounded by thousands of enemies. Everyone wants to either kill you or capture you, and you don't even know why (because Gojo never revealed to you about your family or you being the star plasma vessel). Fortunately, you had trained enough to fight these assassins, and by the time you were done, you were tired and wanted to return back to Jujutsu High, but before you could, someone knocked you out.

When you woke up, you were lying in bed in a traditional Japanese home. Soon, a man with blonde hair came in, introducing himself as your uncle Naoya. He revealed who you were, how he was your family, how he saved you from Gojo, the man who stole you and killed his family members.

Of course, you call bs because why wouldn't you?? Naoya gives major prick vibes without trying so yeah, you didn't trust him at all. Then he pulled out pictures of you, of Toji and everyone else, and you vaguely remembered them, but not enough to believe him because Naoya could just be manipulating you to be compliant for human trafficking.

And then he takes you to another room, on the way you see a lot of other people who are looking at you fondly and have tears in their eyes, they seem like they want to say something or touch you, but Naoya glares at them to move away. Eventually, you reach a door and on opening it, you see a man sitting on a wheelchair, looking away from you.

"Who's that?" You asked as Naoya gently pushed you in. He walked towards the man, turning his wheelchair around and your breath hitched-

"Y/n, meet Toji, your-"

"Dad?" You whispered, recognising him as memories flashed through your mind. How- how could you have forgotten him all these years?

Tears began flowing down your face as you saw his miserable state- his face emotionless, the man was missing an arm, and he looked pale and weak.

"Gojo did this to him." Naoya began. "While your father was fighting, Gojo tried to purple Hollow you. But Toji took the hit instead, protecting you. He almost died that day, but with a little cursed energy, we were able to save him." He sighed, patting Toji's shoulder. "Unfortunately, he is paralysed. The cursed technique we tried to save him, has sent him into a vegetative state. He can't move, can't speak, doesn't even react."

More tears fell as you began questioning if Gojo really did this. Then again, if he was so innocent, why did he never tell you who your father really was.

"Why- why did you bring me here?" You asked.

Naoya scoffed. "Why wouldn't I? I had to save you from that monster. Look at what he did to your father! How could have I just leave you with him? You belong here, with your family, with your clan!"

"I cant- I can't stay here." You said, tearfully.

"Why not?"

"Because Gojo will find me. And when he does, he will hurt you all. I- I can't have that-" but Naoya pulled you into a hug as you began sobbing into his chest, heart heavy with guilt at the sight of your father.

"Shh, its okay. This is not your fault. You didn't do this, Gojo did. Which is precisely why you must stay here, with me and with your father. Besides, you don't need to worry about Gojo. I'm not a weak sorcerer, yknow? And not alone either. Plus, I remember you neutralising Gojo's attack pretty easily as a child. I'm sure you're better at it now. Obviously, not better than your uncle, I mean who are we kidding? No ones better than me-"

Yeah, you're remembering Naoya alright now.

Meanwhile, Gojo is losing his mind and is on a murder spree through Japan to find you. He doesn't even know who fucking took you, and Naoya may not be as strong as Gojo, he is pretty good at hiding, like a rat.

Besides, Gojo isn't the only who's looking for you.

#yandere gojo saturo #yandere gojo x reader #yandere toji fushiguro #yandere toji #yandere geto suguru #yandere getou suguru #yandere naoya #yandere naoya zenin #yandere zenin clan #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #yandere geto #yandere getou #getou suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk toji #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in x reader

[normansnt]

Knight in shining armor

(Hazbin Adam x singer!male reader)

(Not my art, idk whose sorry I got it from pinterest but credits to the artist cuz he would SO wear that I cant😭)

Warnings: fist fight

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"FUCK YEAAHHHHHH THATS MY BOYFRIEND MF" yelled Adam to a random person at your concert.

He always did that. Whenever he went to one of your concerts (always, I am not kidding the man has not missed a single one) he yelled to every one of your songs because he knew them inside out and after each song he yelled to someone that you're his boyfriend.

It was sweet in your eyes he was truly your number one fan. However on more than one occasion this has gotten out of hand. Like right now.

Sometimes people get annoyed at his yelling even though it is a rock concert he is still the loudest one. But this time it was different. This time something happened that actually bothered him.

He was yelling about how much he loves you and how you are his boyfriend again when he overheard something that he didn't like.

"For real? That gorgeous singer is dating that flop no fucking way."

"I know right? I gotta say I wouldn't mind hearing the singers voice moaning my-" Adam didn't wait longer to hear the end of the sentence he straight on punched that guy.

"I fucking DARE you to finish that sentence." Adam literally growled. Even though this was heaven, assholes were present here too.

The fight got so big that you had to stop your performance and stop it.

"Adam- Adam stop" you tried to get your boyfriend off of the two guys who he was now fighting.

"Let me go babe, I'm gonna fucking murder those two mother fuckers-"

"Adam, they already had enough you won." You tried arguing with him while you dragged him to your dressing room. The two guys laying on the floor beaten to pulp.

Once you closed the door, the ruckus outside got just a bit quieter and you could finally take a deep breath.

"What happened this time?" You asked your boyfriend while getting the first aid kit and patching him up. He was much better of than the other guys thats true. But he still had some scratches and a black eye.

Adam told you the whole story of what happened and you listened intently while gently putting some alcohol at a deep cut on his nose.

"And then I was like- aww fuck babe warn me next time" he started whining because of the alcohol.

You sighed.

"Listen Adam, I appreciate what you did, those pigs said some disgusting shit and you were a great knight in shining armor but I worked really hard to get this gig and you know that" you said trying to be as gentle as possible.

"Babe, your boyfriend is the fucking Adam, tell me where you want to preform and you'll get in within seconds I can take care of that."

"I know Adam but I really wanna accomplish some things on my own." You sighed again.

Adam knew he fucked up, he sees first hand how much work you put into your music. But he just couldn't help it this is the kind of thing that pisses him off to no end. His first two wives left him for someone else and even though he might act confident he was terrified that you would leave him, too. He didn't want to loose someone he loved so much.

You put your hand on his cheek and made him look at you.

"Hey, its ok I understand." Thats all you needed to say. You knew about Lilith and Eve leaving him. And you knew how insecure he actually felt. You have been dating for almost 6 years now you knew him way too well.

You kissed him to let him know that you weren't mad. He kissed back with enthusiasm, he loved kissing you. It might be true that he has kissed a lot of people before you came along but he always said that you were his favorite kisser of all time. He just loved the feeling of your lips against his.

"(Y/N)...I- listen I mean what I said really, wherever you wanna play I can hook you up."

You chuckled lightly. You knew this was the closest thing you are gonna get out of him as an apology, the man was not good at apologizing. But you already knew that, and loved him nonetheless.

"I know honey I know." You put your forehead on his.

The wholesome moment was interrupted when you both started hearing chanting from outside.

"Is that-?"

"THEY ARE CHANTING YOUR NAME BABY COME ON GET YOUR BRETTY ASS OUT THERE"

And there he was again, your stupid boyfriend.

You laughed an snatched up your guitar.

"All right baby you wanna watch from back stage?" You asked back as you held out your hand to him.

"FUCK YEAAHH"

And with that you two walked out of your dressing room laughing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

HE IS JUST A STUPID LITTLE MEN HELP I LOVE HIM SM IDK WHY😭😭

Hope you guys enjoyed😘~

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #hazbin adam

[fruitsoxs]

this is long so i'm putting some under read more

BUT- Thinking about Astarion with a generally good tav/reader. I’m thinking it’s sort of an enemies to lovers type deal, where the two of you start off the adventure by bickering constantly over what to do. You always want to do the right thing, and it absolutely infuriates Astarion. He pushes back whenever he can, because your little rag tag group has other matters that are much more important than saving children, or rescuing girls from some hag. But of course, he’s always outvoted. You are easily annoyed by his constant complaining whenever you want to do something good, and so of course the two of you are almost always at each other's throats.

“Oh I’m sorry that I actually have a heart.” “You should be- we have other matters to attend to. Like, well I don't know, the thing inside our heads!”

However, there are moments where Astarion comes to learn that he genuinely likes your kind heart. When you easily forgive him for…hiding what he truly is. Or how you lie when a hunter is out and about. There are moments where you tend to his wounds in complete silence, gently wrapping a bandage around his arm. And when he says a quiet thank you, you simply nod and move on. 

He’d never say this out loud, and of course continues to act as if you are nothing but a nuisance, but he starts to appreciate you little by little. You are not just some naïve adventurer who will drop dead if someone were to ask. You are the strongest person he knows, someone he could depend on if needed. He watches you fuss over the group, solving everyone’s problems. He sees how much work you put into making everyone comfortable, and how little you ask for in return. And while he thinks you’re a little stupid for it, he also recognizes that most of his disdain comes from the fact that he wishes he had someone like you to save him when he was at his lowest. If good people like you exist, then why did nobody come to his aid? 

So maybe he gets less snippy. He doesn’t roll his eyes every time you put the mission on hold to do favors for others. Maybe he starts to fall for you little by little.

And maybe it all becomes clear to him when you get hurt.

It was supposed to be an easy little mission. A peaceful meeting that you were sure you could talk your way out of (it always surprised him how easily you could lie your way out of fights). And of course, Astarion and you just had to get in a little spat beforehand, so he stays at the campsite while you’re off bringing peace to the world. He doesn’t expect to see the others come rushing into camp, dragging your weak body along. He doesn’t expect to see you so pale, fighting for your very life-

He rushes to your side, demanding to know what happened. Something went wrong, and somehow you ended up stabbed with a poisoned dagger in the midst of a fight. He feels his insides churn when they lay you down on a bed roll, and he watches as you give him a weak smile.

“Hey fangs.” you manage to get out, entering a coughing fit shortly after. Your smile almost fades when you notice how scared Astarion looks. It isn’t like him to be so worried. You don’t like seeing him like that so you whisper. “It’s gonna be okay-” And gods does it infuriate Astarion that you’re still trying to help others, help him, when you’re basically dying by his side. So he snaps a bit.

“And how do you know that?” He bites at you, pain and anger in his voice. You flinch a bit, letting a silence take over for a second. You slowly reach out to grab his shaking hand, your grip so weak. “Just trust me.”

He sits by your side, barking orders at everyone else- demanding someone heal you. He’s a bit of a prick as Shadowheart kneels down to tend to your wounds. He seems so angry, but everyone can see the way he’s clinging to your hand. Everyone knows what’s going on. And after you’re healed, and left to recover, he stays by your side. 

When the rest of the camp is asleep, he gently pushes your hair out of your face while looking you over. He’s just now realized how hard he’s fallen. While you’re protecting everyone else someone has to protect you. He may as well be that person.

#and everyone else is just watching you two fight going “yeah when are they gonna just fucking kiss already?” #socks thoughts #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion drabble #astarion x reader #astarion headcanons

[victorianbatman]

More ATLA/LOK Incorrect quotes

GN reader, unless stated otherwise

Bolin, propping his feet on the table: So, I heard you like bad boys?

Y/n: What? No.

Bolin, taking his feet off the table: Oh thank God, that felt terrible.

-

Lin: Whats this?

Y/n, hugging her: Affection.

Lin: Disgusting.

Lin:…

Lin: Do it again.

-

Bolin: Wow, your legs look amazing in those pants!

Y/n: You should see me without them.

Bolin: Without.. legs?

-

Sokka: What did you make for Y/n?

Zuko, staring at the burnt food: Regret.

-

Korra, holding kettle: Coffee or tea?

Y/n: Tea.

Korra: Wrong! Its coffee.

-

Bolin, talking about y/n: My crush isn’t picking up on any of my hints.

Mako: What hints have you given them?

Bolin: I think about them.. a lot.

Bolin: And sometimes I think about talking to them.

-

Y/n: Mako?

Mako: What?

Y/n: Are you asleep?

Mako: Who the fuck did you think said ‘what’?

-

Y/n, waking up: Am I dead?

[Sees Asami next to them]

Y/n: Is this heaven?

Korra, bangs on door: Open up, fuckers its me Korra

Y/n, tearing up: I always knew I’d end up in hell.

-

Lin: Having trouble figuring out who knows Korra the best?

Asami: Its me!

Bolin: Its me!

Mako: Its me!

Y/n:..

Y/n: It’s probably not me.

-

Y/n: Time for plan G.

Mako: Wait- don’t you mean plan B?

Y/n: No we did plan B a long time ago. I had to skip over C because of some technical difficulties.

Asami: What about plan D?

Y/n: Plan D was that desperate disguise attempt half an hour ago.

Bolin: And plan E?

Y/n: Im hoping not to use it, I die in plan E.

Korra: I like plan E.

-

Y/n: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them?

Mako: Well, what do you do?

Y/n: I die? Pfft- What kinda question..

-

Y/n: A mosquito tried to bite me and I slapped it and it died.

Y/n: Then I started thinking. It was just trying to get food.

Y/n: Like, what if I went to the fridge to get something to eat and it slammed the door on me and broke my neck?

Y/n: Howw would I feel?

Mako: Are you ok?

-

Bolin: What does ‘take out’ mean?

Mako: Food.

Asami: Dating.

Korra: Murder.

Y/n: IT COULD MEAN ALL THREE IF YOURE NOT A FUCKING COWARD!

-

Korra: You’re a little obsessed with yourself aren’t you?

Y/n: Well if im not who else is gonna be?

-

[Y/n, throws bread at turtleducks]

Y/n: Do not forget this act of altruism. If I am ever in trouble, I expect you and your brethren to come to my aid. Do not forget.

-

Y/n: You’re the love of my life, I’d do anything for you.

Asami: I want you to take care of yourself and get enough sleep.

Y/n: Absolutely not.

-

Asami: My boyfriend is too tall to kiss, what should I do?

Korra: Punch him in the gut, then when he leans down kiss him.

Bolin: Tackle him

Y/n: Dump him, be with me.

Lin, passing by: Kick him in the shin.

Mako: Please don’t do any of those.

-

[Korra, sneaks into house at 2 am]

Mako, turns in swivel chair: Care to explain where you were?

Korra: Uhh.. I was out with Y/n.

Y/n, also turns around in another swivel chair: Care to- [chair wont stop turning] Mako- I cant stop the chair-

-

Bolin, after making Y/n mad: You wont hit me, I have witnesses.

Y/n: Mako. Asami. Turn around.

[Both Mako and Asmai turn around]

Bolin, scared: M-Mako? Asami?

-

Y/n: So whats Zukos type?

Sokka: Y/c eyes, kind, oblivious, good sense of humour, turtleduck lover.

Y/n: Damn, sounds kind of like me. Too bad we’re just friends though.

Sokka: Did I mention oblivious?

Y/n: Yeah why?

Sokka: Just making sure.

#lok #atla #lgbt #atla x reader #asami x reader #zuko x reader #bolin x reader #x reader #mako x reader #korra x reader

[merakiui]

crow & goat in courtship.

yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, coercion, religious symbolism/imagery, mentions of pregnancy, implied breeding kink, obsession, alcohol/intoxication, slight codependency, non-consensual touching/groping, au in which you attend classes at nbc instead of nrc under rollo's supervision note - the crow is always on call.

i. “but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (james 1:14-15).

Rollo answers on the third ring.

He always does—claims it’s polite to answer after three chimes just as it’s right to knock thrice before entering a residence. He’s stubborn in his ways, a crow bound by routine, only ever doing things in threes. Habitual to a fault, strictly so. You are similar in that regard; you find solace in the familiarity of predictable patterns. The relief that stems from knowing what will come next—in being prepared for all manner of events even if you haven’t yet reached the first.

But then you also like fun, and the best sort of fun is often had with a disregard for habit. Disorder and spontaneity. Throwing all caution to the wind. Trusting in the arms of the crow who will catch you, the carefree goat, when you fall.

“Good evening,” he mutters into the phone, his voice sounding so close despite the distance between you and him. “It’s rather late. Is there a specific reason you’re calling?”

“Rollo! Hey! Hiii,” you drawl, grinning like a fool. You stagger through the door into the chilly, starless night, your heels slipping on cracked, frozen pavement. “Whoa!” You stumble against the railing with a carefree giggle. “Almost lost my footing!”

There’s a stalling silence on his end. And then, with a deep inhale, he asks evenly, “Have you gone out?”

“Mm. Yeah. Went out to celebrate with some friends.”

“Some friends?”

“Like one or two…or a whole house full of ’em.”

“(Name).”

“What?” When he doesn’t reply, you laugh. Not because it’s humorous or embarrassing, but to merely fill the silent gap. “What? Roro, you’re sho stern. Don’t lecture me!”

“So you’ve been drinking.”

“What?! No!” With an offended scoff, you shake your head even though he’s not here to witness it. “You know NBC’s no-booze rule. I’m not gonna get caught—won’t get caught.”

“You slurred your speech and called me ‘Roro’—both in the same sentence, mind you.”

“So what? Rollo, Roro. Tomato, potato.”

“It’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. And—” he exhales an exhausted breath— “Never mind. That’s besides the point. Why, pray tell, have you called me at midnight?”

“Why’re you up at midnight?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“Not fair! I asked first!”

“Not quite.” There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks next. “If I were to visit your room right now—knock on the door and wait there—would you let me in?”

“Yeaaah,” you start to say, only to catch yourself halfway in the trap. “No!”

“No?”

“No…thank you. No visitors tonight. S’late and I gotta study for tomorrow’s exam.”

“And a party will somehow aid in that endeavor? (Name), you do realize you’ve spun one too many lies and now you’re woefully entangled.”

“Less poetry and more picking me up.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”  

“Rollo, please be nice,” you whine, your lips twisting into a pout. “S’cold and I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m kinda-maybe-sorta a little…”

“A little…?” he encourages, and you can just envision that self-satisfied smirk of his.

“A little-drunk-but-also-not-really-drunk-but-also-totally-drunk,” you hastily admit in a string of syllables. Snowfall swirls around you, and you grasp the bannister to prevent yourself from falling over. “Oh, it’s snowing.”

“I can see perfectly clear from my window. Beautiful, is it not?”

“So stop being an obtuse dick and come get me before I freeze!”

“Should that come to pass, you may just rival the Righteous Judge at the entrance. I’ll be sure to polish you every month.”

“I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna poison your coffee and watch you drink it, and then we’ll see who’s stiffer than a statue. It’ll be you—in death, y’know!”

“Will you now?”

“If you don’t pick me up, yeah!”

There’s the distinct sound of shuffling. You hear crisp pages turning and then a book closing before the rustling of fabrics invades your keen ears. You picture your responsible friend pacing around his room as he dresses himself for the weather.

“Very well,” he says after a moment, ever the composed gentleman. “Send me the address.”

“You’re the best. Love you lots. Thank you! Thank you!” You press your lips together to mimic obnoxious kissing sounds, which elicits a huff of amusement from him. “It’s not a far walk. Promise.”

“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there shortly. And don’t go anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You do realize sneaking out is against the rules, yes?”

“Aaand here comes the lecture. Gimme a break. Can’t a girl celebrate her birthday in peace?”

You drag your hand over your mouth and wipe sticky wine residue away. In the process, you smear black lipstick. Dark like night, like a crow’s inky feathers, it leaves your once-flawless appearance in disarray.

“There are much better ways to celebrate. Did I not say I’d take you into town this weekend and we could celebrate then?”

“That’s so far from now.”

“It’s three days away, (Name).”

“Still too far.”

“Don’t expect me to provide cover if you get caught.”

“And you can just leave campus whenever you please?”

“This is different.”

“Yeah?” You giggle into the speaker, warm and fuzzy and endlessly entertained. It’s enough of a distraction to keep winter from seeping into your marrow. “How so?”

“This is official Student Council business.”

“Really?” you ask with an impressed whistle. 

“Indeed. On account of my being President, it’s only natural I punish students who conduct themselves poorly. Shall we review your list of infractions and decide on a suitable penalty together?”

“I’d rather we not.”

“Oh, but I insist. Perhaps our discussion and the cold will sober you and teach you a valuable lesson about integrity.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you lower onto the step to await his arrival. The icy stone digs harshly into your rear, which is hardly covered by your too-short dress. It’s definitely not fingertip length or weather-appropriate. You shiver and stuff your hand into the pocket of your cropped sweater. You should take shelter inside, where it’s plenty cozy and inviting, but your inflated pride disagrees. Retreating to the warmth after you’ve already bid farewell would be foolish. At least, that’s what the alcohol in your system is telling you.

So the goat endures the cold, for it knows that that is all that awaits it as the crow closes in.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an academic criminal. Get on with it, President Flamme.”

“Let’s see. You’ve disobeyed campus curfew, snuck out on a school night, attended a party when your grades could use improvement, neglected your studies, drank carelessly, called the one person who can and will punish you for this and the aforementioned…”

The sound of crunching snow pierces the air then, and you look up in time to see Rollo approaching. He’s dressed in a long woolen overcoat with a scarf twined around his throat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He smirks at you from where he stands on the pavement, cutting the call and sliding his phone into his pocket. Tilting his head at you, he pulls another coat from under his arm and offers it to you.

“And you’re dressed for your death.”

“Okay, that one’s personal.”

Rolling your eyes, you rise on unsteady legs. He meets you at the stairs, climbing two of them to help you into the coat. It’s an embrace more welcoming than that of a lover’s, so soft and comfortable that it immediately rejuvenates your weary skeleton. It smells like Rollo, too—like coffee and weathered pages in an old book. You hum your approval, snuggling into the fluffy fabric. He’s plopping his hat on your head next, tugging it so far down that you almost slip on the slick stoop. Like he always has, ever since he first met you, he catches you. 

“Hello to you, too.”

You blink back at him. “Yeah, thanks. I owe you.”

“Let me see your hands.”

He takes them in his, runs his thumbs over the tops, and then procures mittens from his pockets. You watch him slide both over your hands, rubbing them together briefly to generate heat at a faster rate. Your body sways, gaze unfocused. He’s just about to unwind his scarf from his shoulders when you reach out to stop him.

“I’m good. This is enough.”

“You’ll catch your death—”

“And you won’t in just a coat and scarf? At least let me give you your hat back.”

He shakes his head, holding his hand up in objection. “You’ve been out in this weather longer. It’s only fair. But, really, did you have to wait out here? Couldn’t you have gone inside?”

“My pride’s on the line.”

Rollo’s unamused stare cuts through you. “You won’t have much pride left if you’re encased in ice.”

“Then we’d best get moving. Campus awaits!”

You wrap your arm around him, clinging out of instinct. Rollo peers at the proximity, his lips upturned in a covert half-smile, and his arm snakes slowly around your waist in return. You don’t notice this, for you’re too busy dragging your feet through the snow while he acts as a helpful crutch, stable in a way you just aren’t. Not right now, at least.

But then the goat is never stable enough to survive the inevitable—the swift, sacrificial blade that befalls and beheads, leaving gory spatters to run red and visceral in the wake of the end.

You’ve never known, and you never will. How could you when he’s been nothing but cordial? A clean slate. Admirable guidance. A helpful friend. Your only friend.

The crow descends in three knocks. He lets himself in regardless of whether you wish to have him as a guest. He is unwanted and feared, the very foundation of death and destruction, and he has set his beady eyes on you—the goat.

It’s common knowledge that you cannot pray away the crow. He persists, as always, quiet even when his wings beat against his sleek, feathered body like the loudest war drums. And the caw—the dreadful caw! It’s a most disturbing cry, one that pierces through the dark like jarring slivers of light in shadow. Or a butcher’s blade through flesh, sawing through sinew to get to brilliant bone beneath. The hoarse call of Death’s crows—they circle in a murder, swooping down to meet you as harbingers of malevolence.

Rollo has always strived to lead a virtuous existence defined by a rigidly righteous moral compass. In the gloomy pits of misery and hatred, where he festers in a bundle of tar-colored feathers, he does not hope for sunshine. He no longer knows the uplifting ebullience of life’s greatest miracles. Because there is no miracle in death or tragedy. Because there is no happiness to be found in a doomed hand, every card showcasing Death and its many forms. Not for him. Never for him.

But then, amidst the despair and despondency, each all-consuming, a goat fell into his lap.

A divine offering to the crow, who is so far from divinity himself, can only mean one thing. It is neither conciliatory nor a reward.

It is a sacrifice.

But then the City of Flowers adores its goats—reveres them for all that they are. Goats are cherished, not sacrificed. But to drag a nameless, magicless goat from the grounds of its far-off, inconceivable pasture—is that not the cruelest form of sacrifice? To drop this goat into the equitable embrace of the crow—is that not the sweetest gift? Generous yet unfair. Plucked right from the folds of another heaven.

The mortal coil can be callous, which is precisely why the crow is permitted to exist in impartiality. Death does not care for who you were in life and who you will be in the next, and the crow only ever oversees finales. Never beginnings. Much like a deity does not care for what good you can do if you do not first adore them in copious adequacy.

The crow carries with him a most fearsome knell—the chime of judgment, to be delivered right on time like an execution staged for noon.

All throughout life, you can plan for the crow and all that he shall deliver, and still you will never be fully prepared to greet him. He brings misfortune bundled in baskets woven from the bones of sacrifices past. In holy scripture, it is the goat who is punished most often—who is slaughtered at the altar, who is arranged as peace to quell the torrential fury of the deity, who is made to suffer at the hands of those hoping to avoid damnation or godly wrath, who is meant to shoulder the blame when no one else wants to. Favors have been bought with the blood of the goat, its head nestled amidst verdant grasses, pure forevermore even when it is dyed carmine. It appeases and pleases.

So it’s just—religiously so—that the crow takes the goat for himself, strips it bare, and proves to the prying eyes in heaven that the greatest sin is more than lustful temptation.

For the crow—for Rollo—the heaviest sin, a vile, cursed burden from his very first breath—it is existence itself.

And only the blood of a pure goat can wash away such filth—can cleanse what has been rotting within. The goat can make a garden out of the crow—bring life and love to its barren insides regardless of however fleeting its presence may be. It is within this garden—within the softest, fertile soil—where the crow shall sow the most special seeds.

You cross the bridge with Rollo, your laughter filling the cloudy sky as you recall all manner of amusing stories from the past few hours. Drinking games paired with drunken gossip. Delicious wines and snacks. A party with an energy so lively it could rival the city’s annual festivals. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly pleased to hear any of it, he listens well and occasionally stops to steady you before you can topple over the railing into the water below. Your heels clack against smooth, frosted stone, and the wind whips at your face, each snowflake biting and vicious. Noble Bell’s vast campus waits just beyond the wrought iron gate, standing proud and backdropped by the night.

“You think anyone’s up?” you ask, curling your fingers into his arm as he guides you through.

Rollo eases the gate shut. “They might if they hear you. It would be best to keep quiet.”

You pantomime zipping your lips and discarding a nonexistent key. He quirks a small smile at that and then hurries you along. Nights are always peaceful at Noble Bell. The halls are desolate and quiet, devoid of all signs of student life. Your and Rollo’s shoes click in unison as you walk through the hall and past the courtyard. You gaze at the arched openings, counting each one as they become fainter with the growing distance.

Your breath materializes in front of you when you sigh. “I’m so sleepy. I wanna go to bed for a thousand years.”

“You’ll miss your exam if you do that,” he chides, tutting. “And every other exam that will follow.”

“That’s the point!” Your voice bounces off the walls, returning to you in a reverberating echo. Cringing under Rollo’s disapproving glower, you speak softer. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Just how much have you had to drink? You can hardly walk straight without leaning on me for support.” He narrows his eyes, his lecherous gaze crawling down to your bare legs. “Not that I mind…”

His words don’t reach you, for they’re swallowed in a howling gale as it sweeps across the courtyard. You spy the dormitories then, each one looking more like gingerbread covered in confectioners’ sugar instead of buildings dusted with snow. Your eyelids droop while you cross the distance to reach your designated building, your every movement feeling slower than molten molasses, and by the time you’re actually inside the dorm—Rollo’s shushed you more than once—you’re yearning for the warmth of your bed.

So it’s bewildering when, rather than your own room, you stop at Rollo’s instead.

He opens the door and steps inside with you in tow. You keep your mouth shut, too tipsy to think coherently. After he clicks the lamp on, which leaves the room awash in soft shades of amber, he shrugs his coat off, draping it over a nearby chair. You drag yourself over to his bed and flop down, squeezing your eyes shut to block out both the light and your spinning surroundings. Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you hear him shuffling about his room, crossing to close and lock the door before walking back towards you. The mattress dips under his weight, and you feel nimble fingers working to undo the buttons on your coat.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask, cracking your eyes open just as he’s pulling the coat from your person.

Rollo folds it neatly and sets it aside. “You’re practically melting into my bed already. It would be quite the undertaking to make the walk back to your room at this hour.”

“So considerate,” you tease, grinning up at him. Sleep stretches your expression into something dazed, and you yawn loudly. “Then I’m gonna sleep here. Wake me up before class.”

You almost drift off, but those frigid fingers are moving to tug you out of your sweater next. They crawl across your bare shoulders like a spider on a web.

“You really are something,” he marvels, glancing at your body sprawled beneath him. “To brave the cold in such thin material…”

“Stupid choice. I know.”

“It appears we’re in agreement.”

“Shut up,” you snap back with a weak laugh. “You’re no better, showing up so cozy and then giving everything to me.”

Rollo memorizes the way the form-fitting dress hugs your figure. He inhales a shaky breath and brings his hands back to his sides. Your chest is right here. So close. So frustratingly close.

He can’t indulge. He really shouldn’t. It’s unbecoming to show such unfair favorability when he’s meant to remain impartial. Death should not lust for the beauty of life because it only knows endings—or the beginnings of ghostly eternity. The crow should not allow himself to be swept up in tumultuous temptation.

And the goat is the only friend he’s known—the only one who understands the crow, if only by a few meager slivers. But someday the goat will know.

Rollo swallows his inhibitions, beating his urges away with a stick. He’s not one for rash decisions; he’s meticulous and thoughtful. He would never take such a risk—would never nosedive into a crude confession. He’s plotted it in his diary, but it’s never come to fruition. He restrains himself because he must. Because it’s the polite and proper thing to do when caught up in courtship. Because if he opens his torso and allows you to poke around inside, you’ll find that he is not the friend you’ve known for all these months.

He is a fiend, devilishly so, wearing the hide of a goat to put the real one at ease.

Warring with rationality, he slides away from you and intends to recover at his desk. He’ll scrawl all of the things he wishes to do to you in there and that will be enough. That will help clear his head of the intoxicating fog that settles whenever he’s with you in private. But then he’s reaching to untie the canopy draped over his bed, each corner undone within seconds. The sheer curtains fall in thin layers, confining the both of you to this island in the middle of a barren sea. It’s darker in here, dimly lit by the faint glow of the lamp outside.

You blink up at him, owlish.

“You…” He stops himself, shakes his head, and turns away. Hastily, he fishes his handkerchief from his pocket. With this enclosed propinquity, he can smell your perfume. It’s spiced and flowery—alluring and adorable all at once—and it assaults both his nose and mind. “You should sleep. It’s late.”

This is for the best. The crow is only meant to look after the goat, remain unaffected even in the face of lustful, fateful sacrifice.

But you’re here. You’re splayed like a spill, perfectly imperfect, and your shoulders are a canvas coveting kisses. He clutches his handkerchief in a white-knuckled fist.

“Mm, okay. Night…”

“Yes… Yes, good night,” he mumbles, lowering his handkerchief. He swallows thickly.

This is for the best.

But even though he thinks this, his arm is stretching out. Closer. Closer. So close, until his hand is hovering just above your chest. He’s so close.

When will he ever have another chance as fortuitous as this?

His hand closes around your breast and he squeezes it experimentally. It’s soft when his fingers dig in gently, depressing with the pressure of his digits. Rollo’s green hues flick to your face. Your eyes are shut, and soft snores slip from your parted lips. He glimpses your chest again and, with the utmost care, slides your dress down to free your breasts. They’re mostly bare, save for the heart-shaped pasties covering your nipples. Rollo heaves a disbelieving sigh.

“Promiscuous,” he mutters, plucking the edge of the first adhesive and peeling it away to reveal the perky nipple beneath. You look so soft, so clean, so pure… What was he even worried about? No one’s had you before. He’s sure of it.

He’s about to remove the other heart when your voice freezes him.

“What…are you doing?”

He holds your gaze. It’s tense for a moment, unspoken accusations brewing between the both of you.

“A massage,” he blurts, but there isn’t a hint of haste in his tone. He suspected this outcome when he chose to traverse the line of right and wrong—and ultimately sided with the former. Because to him it’s right, even if it’s wrong. He knows what will soon follow: disgust and detestation.

Instead, you giggle. It’s sleepy and silly-sounding, but it’s also light and lively.

You catch his hand in yours and drag it back to your chest. “If you wanted to touch, just ask,” you murmur, your words slurring. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”

You’re not just perfect and pure. You’re everything.

Yes, it’s the alcohol blurring your brain and the intimacy of being trapped in a quiet, comfortable space such as this one that allows you to desire him. Would it be the same if you were sober? He can’t quite say, but he doesn’t wish to know. This is enough. This is paradise.

He kneads slow, steady motions into your breast, and you watch from where you’re lying on the bed. His other hand slithers between your legs to search for your clothed clit. Your breath hitches just as his fingers brush it, and he presses in, rubbing with his index. Your arm falls over your face, and your chest rises with every breath.

“How does it feel?” he asks, rolling your nipple between chilly digits.

“Not enough,” you bemoan, curling your fingers into a fist. “S’not enough…”

“How fascinating. I suppose cheap wine truly does turn you into a pute.”

“No… Was definitely expensive. The fancy kind.”

“Was it now?” He circles your clit, predatory and shark-like, his eyes alight with glee. “You say that, but look at the state it’s left you in. Utterly disheveled.”

“That’s because of—” you gasp, your voice rising in pitch— “because of you…”

His heart hammers in his chest, a resounding, pounding melody.

The City of Flowers treasures its goats, and the crow loves his fiercely even though he shouldn’t.

“Did you enjoy drinking yourself foolish and indulging in debauchery?” His fingers dance along your inner thigh, hooking around the hem of your underwear. “Was it a fun celebration?”

You lower your arm to glare halfheartedly at him. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“More so disappointed, mon chou chou,” he coos, sugary, sickeningly sweet. “Someone could have taken advantage of you. Someone could have tainted you with magic.” His lip curls up into a nasty sneer. It lingers for a moment before fading into something calm. He gazes at you, oddly tender. “That didn’t happen, though, yes?”

You shake your head and flinch when he drags your panties down. Dewy strings of your slick come away with it, and you shudder at your newfound nudity. He hums approvingly and drags his finger through the wet patch staining your panties. Driven by libertine compulsion, he stretches viscous strands of your essence between two fingers.

Your eyes find his deceitful greens once more. Silence sparks between the both of you, quickly broken by your exhalation. Rollo kneels before you, taking in the sight of you as your face wavers through the stages of consideration. Upon arriving at your conclusion, you sit up slightly and shuck your dress over your head. And then you’re lying back, shaking your panties from off your ankle, and wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer. 

You grin, coquettish. “Why not search for yourself if you’re so worried, Mr. Student Council President?”

There’s no turning back. Not that he ever would. Not when the goat’s given him the signal. The blade doesn’t fall, but he does.

And this is better than dreams and erotica. This is real.

He surges forward to fit his lips against yours. Sloppy and inexperienced, he molds himself to your body. You tug him against you, your hands working to undress him. Clothes and shoes are cast aside between open-mouthed kisses, torn off half-buttoned and ripped away from soles. You breathe him in, gasping into his mouth. Translucent strings of saliva connect your mouths when you part, soon broken when you lean in for a chaste peck.

“You’re okay,” he says, the words practically bleeding onto your own tongue with how close he is. “Still as pure as the day I first met you.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“The best thing.”

His third and fourth fingers prod at the depths of your pussy, pressing inwards. Shallow at first. He watches your face unblinkingly, burning every pleasured contortion into his brain, and slides his thumb along your clit. Your breathing staggers, coming in quick huffs, and you grab at the bedsheets to steady yourself. Rollo works you open on those fingers, curling and scissoring in equal measure. The slick squelches join in the salacious symphony you’re currently producing. Every sigh and groan come together in perfect harmony. You’re a heavenly harp, and he’s plucking your strings like an expert musician.

“Tonight is unforgivable,” he adds, and you blink through blissful tears to view him. “Folly is the worst distraction.”

“Then be stupid with me,” you joke, running your hands over his shoulders. He’s so cold. “Warm yourself with me.”

And he will because he’s always wanted to. He’s desired it. Craved it. Coveted it. Thought of nothing else for days and days, each delusion so cyclical it often felt tangible.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his other hand up your hip and towards your rib. He traces the path of where it lies beneath layers of flesh before pressing down to feel it. “So beautiful…”

Your hand glides into his, fingers twining like silken thread around a spool. A lopsided smile lifts your lips, and you preen under him. “Yeah? Am I really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about the obvious…” Your walls hug his fingers tighter then, and a shiver electrifies your nerves. He hums again, quite pleased. “Oh, did you like that?”

“I did. Very much.”

Lashes fluttering against your cheekbones, your head thrown back in ecstasy ever-mounting, you render him ensorcelled. Like a prized Renaissance nude, a goat laid to sacrifice in the crow’s nest, you are beatific. Divinely so.

“Allow me to reiterate then.” He hastens his pace, pumping his fingers relentlessly. You tamp down a shameless moan. “You’re exquisitely beddable. A work of art. Enchanting. Une belle femme.”

You’re nearing the edge—very gradually, but not quite—and so it’s devastating when he slips his fingers out, each one thoroughly coated in you. They shimmer in the dim light, reminding you of where they had previously been.

“Put it back in,” you beg with wide, glossy eyes. “C’mon… Please don’t stop now. Was so close. So close and—”

Your complaints are curbed when you follow his hand as it moves to wrap around his half-hard cock. He strokes himself thrice, using your slick as lube, until his cock is curving up against his stomach. You stare at him; he stares right back.

And then you realize he intends to go all the way.

“Wait, Rol…lo… S’not my safe day,” you say, shifting away. Whether impatiently or anxiously, he can’t tell, but he can certainly guess. Your world spins once, a dizzying blur, before it promptly clears. In the very center of your vision, as he’s always been, Rollo remains. “S’not safe…”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with levity. “I know.”

He’s kept track, dutiful like always.

You attempt to crawl out from under him, but he stops you. Your stomach churns.

“I’ll pull out in time,” he promises, rubbing soothing circles into your plush hips.

Even with the alcohol still buzzing through your system, you aren’t convinced. “N-No, really, we should stop here…”

“You’ll feel so good. Come now, aren’t we nearly there already?”

Rollo lifts your legs onto his shoulders. You squirm with more determination this time, but his fingers dig into your thighs. With a startled squeak, you sink into the mattress, cowed into submission.

“We… We can’t.”

“Why not?” The smooth, soft head of his cock prods curiously at your pussy.

You chew your lip, admitting in a meek tone, “I… I could get p-pregnant…”

“Pregnant,” he parrots, tasting the word as if it’s a delicacy he has yet to sample. His cock twitches. “Pregnant…”

“So… So that’s why…”

“Do you not want children?”

“I… Well… Now is kinda…”

He presses onwards, sinking in slowly. Your breath hitches; your heart stumbles. The intrusion is not entirely unwanted, for your slick, snug walls cling to his shape, and you almost give in to bodily inclination. But it doesn’t feel right. You’re scared. No matter how naturally your body reacts, you don’t want this.

“Rollo, wait—”

“It would be a wonderful thing—to see you rounded with my children.” Rollo props himself on either side of you, his body pinned to yours in sinful, sweaty connection. He exhales a deep breath, restraining himself as he pushes deeper. Patience is a virtue, after all. Your expression tightens with discomfort, and so he peppers your face with placatory kisses. “To see you grow in and—mmh—out of the most flattering maternity wear. To behold every change that blesses this beautiful body of yours… To see you swell with my love, filthy as it may be. Ah, but pregnancy is just as messy… Nevertheless, it shall be a special bond for us—a sacred vow, if you will. We are connected here—” he punctuates this point by slotting the rest of his length inside, and your legs involuntarily close around him to keep him there— “and soon here when life develops within.”

One hand splays across your stomach to pat it with fondness. You choke on your helpless whimper when he rocks his hips once, experimenting with the movement. It’s awkward, but it reminds you that he’s inside. So close to your womb that in just a few more thrusts he might—

“No… No, please… Rollo, you have to—oh—have to pull out. Please pull out. Don’t wanna get pregnant…”

“Oh, but you would be so beautiful.” He breathes you in, savoring sex and floral fragrance. “If I’m allowed one miracle—just one for all the anguish I’ve endured—let it be this.”

You know not of what anguish he speaks, for he’s never verbalized it, but even so it can’t possibly be so agonizing that it would warrant such invasion.

The vise-like hold your velvety walls have on his cock is deliciously addictive. He groans while he ruts into you, his eyelids fluttering. He could be animalistic and cruel in his movements—ravish you as if the world is faced with annihilation and this is his final hour—but instead he settles for exploratory leisure. His hand fits into yours and he squeezes it gently. A feeble protest builds in your throat and so he swallows it with a hungry kiss, his mouth molding against yours.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when he draws back and slides in again, filling you deeper than before. You breathe between kisses, panting and licking into his mouth in even intervals. He does much the same, anchored to you in a way that is both temporary and yet so permanent.

The world narrows down to this single sliver of space, enclosed in a canopy. And in it, laid bare and fertile, the goat is sacrificed to the crow. Death cannot reach either one here. There is only the promise of new life, thrust upon the goat all at once.

You don’t have the willpower to object, for you’ve already found yourself entrapped, so instead you cry. Tears track down your cheeks; your mascara runs with it. Ruined. So, too, is your pitch-black lipstick, smeared along the edges of your lips and printed onto Rollo’s porcelain skin.

Rollo’s hips stutter to a halt and he holds you against him when he spills thick and hot inside. Nothing is wasted; it’s all emptied deep within. If you’re lucky, it won’t take. But if some mischievous fertility goddess has cursed you, you’ll wake nauseous in the coming weeks.

If you have anything worth praying for, it’s the former.

The both of you are panting in the aftermath, but only one is coming down from his glorious high. You remain unsatisfied, your peak not yet breached. Rollo rolls his hips once more for good measure before easing out. You crumple into the wrinkled sheets, frigid and still as a statue. Carved empty and hollow, yet stuffed with sin.

The crow has come. Though this time the gift of tragedy is something between boon and curse.

— — —

The curtains are drawn to let in sunlight. It filters in through frosted glass, each pane stamped with snow, and it blinds you the moment you try to open your eyes. You twist and turn in bed, feeling heavy with hangover. A splitting ache cracks your head in half, and you groan loudly.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you hiss, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “This sucks…”

You force yourself to wake after two more minutes of rolling around. Groaning once more, you sit up in bed. The canopy has been tied back in place, and when you glance sidelong at Rollo’s desk you notice something. A glass of water and a plate are waiting for you, seeming more enticing by the second. You throw the covers off, realize you’re nude seconds later, and promptly snatch them back. They’re wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. You stagger out of bed to check the contents. Two croissants, a single orange, a dollop of strawberry marmalade, and two tablets are arranged on the plate.

Hangover medicine, you realize, lifting one up to scrutinize it.

You peer around the room. It’s empty. And then you see the clock. It’s a little past noon.

“Oh,” you mumble, lowering into the chair. You clutch the blanket closer. “Rollo must be in class.”

Amidst the piercing migraine, which you quickly resolve by throwing your head back to swallow both tablets in a single gulp of water, two things occur to you. You’re in Rollo’s room. Naked. In Rollo’s room. Surely you must have spent the night after you returned from the party. Why are you naked?

But more importantly…

“Shit! My exam!” The excitement doesn’t help your current state, and you slouch in your seat, even more exhausted than before. “I completely missed it… Rollo’s gonna kill me.”

You scrub the sleep from your eyes and reach for a croissant, content with giving up. You don’t want to endure the walk of shame from Rollo’s room to yours. If anyone were to catch you, they’d certainly be left wondering.

As you nibble on the croissant, admiring the way Rollo’s arranged the contents of his room, you spot the edge of something beneath the plate. Perplexed, you push it aside to reveal a note. Penned in Rollo’s effortlessly pretty script, it reads:

I’ll forgive your transgression just this once if you’ll forgive mine. For now, get some rest. I’ve left breakfast here. Stay for however long you’d like.

You scowl at his attempt of ‘breakfast,’ and your stomach rumbles in dissatisfaction.

“Right?” you say to your stomach, clicking your tongue. “If anything, this is hardly a snack.”

But you’re grateful for his efforts. He cares. He always has. From the very first day you found yourself in this world, he cared.

While you peel the orange, pondering foggy recollections of last night, you begin to realize just how sticky you feel. As if someone’s slobbered all over you and left it to dry. The feeling persists between your thighs.

You pause momentarily, overcome with an uncanny sense of panic as you piece the puzzle together. The still-forming picture does not look good.

“Shit…” you whisper, haunted with a fragmented timeline. “What the hell did we do last night?”

You know. The deep, dark part of your brain knows, but you don’t want to confront it. Because Rollo wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t. He’s always done what’s best for you, so he wouldn’t.

Right?

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst x reader #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere rollo flamme #yandere rollo flamm #yandere rollo flamme x reader #yandere rollo flamm x reader #yandere rollo #yandere rollo x reader #n/sfw #tw: dubcon

[fortheloveofkonig]

Hello, hope you're having a good day/night

I was wondering if I could request the 141 x Male reader, they know alot of medical like they use their knowledge of the human body against anyone whom threatens them (or people the care about). They aren't a medic are doctor parday but have extensive knowledge of the field that helps the team. Seem cold uncaring and ruthless but if anyone of them is injured its like a total switch of 'mom bear mode' checking them over the gentle hands and worry.

(Kinda of trope of don't mess with the doctor lol)

Summary: TF 141 reacts to Reader who knows a frightening amount of medical knowledge.

Note: I'm going to do this as more of a headcanons type of post ^^ hope this is good enough! ^^ I did 95% of this all in the last 2 hours

Content: Medical speak, Injuries, Slight Torture, Slightly Bad Medical Research, But I Did Research. Roach Talks.

Word Count: 1085

TF 141 x Knowledgeable in Medic Field M! Reader

Ghost

Probably first heard about your knowledge from Soap talking to him about how terrifying it is to see it come into play

Doesn't believe him.

You've always been good at what you do but have never shown any previous knowledge or interest in the medical field so, who can blame him?

There was also no way you could've went to medical school unless you were years above your usual education range

He finally sees it come into play when you two were 'interrogating' someone.

"If you're gonna stab, don't do it right there. Price said he needs to stay alive."

Ghost looks at you, annoyed. "I've stabbed many people and seen many people survive stab wounds of surrounding areas."

"In lower places of the abdomen and with quicker medical care, if you do it there" You point to where he had the knife, pointed at the tied up man's skin. "It could puncture an intestine and we will be fucked. If you want to stab, move the knife below the belly button...about right... right there. Do not remove the knife once it pierces through."

He did as you said, with questions, but still followed your lead.

From then on he watched everything you did, even noticing that you took care of some of the rookies that ended up with minor cuts and damage that wasn't enough to bother the medics with.

Needless to say, he also ended up coming to you for some patch ups, mostly when he wanted to keep his new damage a secret from Price.

He ended up finding it kind of hot during the interrogation thing so he often asked to do things like that with you again.

Soap

Honestly, probably figured out about your medical knowledge after he was being a dumbass with explosives and almost got hurt.

"Go change into some shorts and a tank top." Your voice was in a serious tone as you went to grab a nearby first aid kit.

"Already wanting to see me strip?"

You just glared at him until he actually left and did what was told.

Despite having only a few scratches, you still cleaned them up as best as you could.

You also went on a rant about it too, about how dumb he was

"Do you realize how dumb you are? What if you actually made a big explosion and a piece of shrapnel flew and hit one of the carotid arteries in your neck?

"My What?"

"Do you realize how fast you would've died? Why weren't you wearing any protective gear?"

"I'm pretty bad at forgetting protection."

If looks could kill, he'd be dead.

That was not the last time you had to clean his wounds, he seems to be a magnet for them.

Asks you more about medical stuff, just to get an idea on how much you know.

You know a lot.

Unsure at this point if he hurts himself in new ways just to hear you yell at him for what dumb way he could've gotten himself killed this time.

Gaz

He falls out of helicopters a lot, that's the truth. What's one more time?

This time (and somehow not the last?) he ended up hurting his foot, you were there the whole time when it happened.

When the both of you were both safe in the safety of a van, you got him to put his leg up so you could check it.

"This is stupid" He mutters, "It's nothing more than it has been in the past."

"Shush, let me concentrate" You mutter feeling around his bootless ankle, nodding your head when you hear him hiss at a pointed touch.

"Any pain when you walk on it?"

"Possibly....yes."

"I'm gonna say it's a sprain for now but I think we should take you to the infirmary after we get back to base. Doesn't seem dislocated. Possible fracture though."

It was just a sprain

Was surprised when you spoke fluent...doctor to the doctor.

Honestly felt like a little kid in the doctor's office, watching his parent's converse with the Doctor telling them what was wrong.

Wouldn't have it any other way.

Price

Always knew, almost nothing gets by him unnoticed

Was probably one of the reasons he wanted you on the task force.

He knows how soap and gaz the boys are

Has you teaching rookies how to probably put a tourniquet on.

"What the fuck are you doing? That's not how I taught you."

The rookie you were speaking to just looked down at the dummy that they were working on and the tourniquet, "It looks-"

"Terrible! He's still bleeding out! Retry it."

Definitely has to sit in on these sessions, some rookies have complained to him that you take it too far.

You always just use the excuse that if those were real people and not training dummies, they'd be at fault for letting them die.

He agrees with you.

The rookie looks over at Price.

"Get to it. He told you to retry it. The man is bleeding out."

Mostly just sits in because it's less complaints now that he is showing he agrees with you in front of everyone.

Roach

This fucker needs a friend that has medical knowledge

Much like Soap, it seems like he is a wound magnet

Was probably the first of the 141 that you had to go full protective, medical knowledge out and work on him.

Man's like a tank too, no matter what the day brings to him it seems he's just able to walk it off

You don't let him

"You're limping, sit down."

He just waves it off, "'m good."

"Like hell you are." You walk up to him and grab his wrist, dragging him to a nearby chair and pushing him onto it. "Stay or I'll have Ghost lay on you."

Does not stay.

You cannot get Ghost to lay on him.

You just end up pelting pillows at him until he joins into a pillow fight, and you both end up getting exhausted.

"I'll rest right here."

"Good."

Stubborn but still okay with medical help

Often comes to you with oddly specific questions.

"Hypothetically, if a car blew up in the near vicinity of where I was at, what is the possible health issues that could arise?"

"Well, burn marks obviously, depending on the distance it could be any degree. If it was enough to knock you over, then a possible concussion. Depending if you hit the ground and hard enough, possible broken or fractured bones. Not to even mention the possible pieces of metal and glass flying, and just blast trauma in general. Could cause damage to internal organs with enough force."

"Okay, so...hypothetically, if that happened, I should go to the infirmary?"

"Roach, were you next to a car when it blew up?"

"..."

"Gary???"

You immediately dragged him to the infirmary.

#ghost x male reader #mw2 x male reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #mw2 #ghost #captain price #john soap mactavish #simon riley #captain price x male reader #soap x male reader #ghost x m!reader #soap x m!reader #captain price x m!reader #gary roach sanderson #mw2 roach #roach x male reader #roach x m!reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x male reader #gaz x male reader #gaz mw2 #gaz x m!reader #cod x male reader #x male reader #x male y/n #x m! reader #simon riley x male reader #john price x male reader #ash's writings

[angelltheninth]

Honey Bee on the Wall

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reder

Tags: nsfw, smut, gentle to rough sex, whining, mirror sex, wall sex, size difference

Word count: 1k

A/N: Smut commission for a very cultured commissioner. Wall sex is amazing!

"Oh no. Not the puppy dog pout. You know I can't resist that."

"Come on sugar, please? Just once, I promise I won't drop you." Miguel put his hands together as he knelt few spaces away from you on the bed. He'd been a little odd lately, always looking over at you when you were alone, then away, then back at you. You figured he was pent up and yeah, his raging hard dick spoke for itself.

There was something specific your boyfriend wanted this time. "Where did you even get the idea to fuck me while holding me against the wall?"

"From Ben actually. I heard him talking about doing that with his girlfriend. Sounded pretty fun. Plus I've kinda been looking at ways to use my powers when we fuck. Much as I know you enjoy it, and I do too, I can't always be tying you up." Bondage seemed like a logical thing to try with someone who could shoot webs, that was one of the first things you tried with him.

Images of you being fully restrained and suspended from the celling flashed through your mind, not aiding the pulsing and wetness gathering between your legs, "But I like it when you tie me up Miguel."

"I know, I know but... I wanna try something new. Come on, pretty please." His full cute power came out as he pressed his lips together and crawled between you legs then looked up at you.

"Oh my fucking-" You had to turn and walk away to gather your thoughts, "Oh no. Not the puppy dog pout. You know I can't resist that." Miguel let out a small chuckle as he followed you, constantly invading your field of vision, "Fine! Fine! We can try it. You win, just stop with the puppy dog pout."

His grin really brightened up the room.

Miguel took you by the hand and walked you to the nearest wall in your bedroom, which just so happened to be on the opposite side of the mirror. He gave this a lot of thought. "I think we can compromise a little. Let me lift you up for a second." Not long after he did you felt the familiar pull and taunt of his webbing against your thighs and his hand around your wrists, "Look at how pretty you look."

When you saw yourself in the mirror you could see everything so clearly, your flustered face, your full breasts and stiff nipples, your pussy on full display and Miguel's fingers moving down towards it. He kept his eyes on you while you looked at yourself in the mirror, the way his fingers revealed your puffy clit and rolled tight little circles around it, the way his fingers pressed and pushed inside of your wanting pussy. "Hold on. This- this is embarrassing."

"And getting fucked like a sexdoll while hanging off the celling isn't? I want you to see how sexy you look when I'm fucking you." Just one of his fingers felt like two, almost three of your own, "Come on, look. Look at how well your pussy takes my finger. I think it wants more. I think it wants this." He moved himself in front of you, now his messy hair, big, muscular back, his ass and the bottom of his heavy balls was all you could see in the mirror. But what you felt was the broad, angry, leaky head of his cock pushing slowly past your entrance. "Okay so far?"

"I think so." But you weren't gonna be for long, not if he kept looking at you so softly while all you could see was your own horny face reflected at you. You'd never seen the face you made when he'd push inside of you, the way your lips opened or the way your eyes fluttered.

"You're tighter then usual. Knew you'd like it like this, seeing yourself getting fucked by me. Don't look away sweetheart, promise me you'll look until the end." Miguel puffed against your neck, big hands holding your hips, yours draping over his shoulders for that extra balance.

Rolling his hips forward he you felt his cock practically split you open, slowly sinking himself deeper and deeper into your wanting pussy. Small moans began to turn louder, longer, broken up as he finally bottomed out. "God Miguel. You make me so full."

"You feel good when you're stretched around me don't you? That's all for you." He pulled out equally as slow but the next thrust made you gasp and fall short of breath. He smacked inside you hard in such rapid pace. You can hardly breathe as you watch yourself get fucked by him, seeing it and feeling it the same time. "Good girl, good girl keep your eyes forward. I'm gonna fuck your orgasm right out of you."

Out of you? And his into you by how hard his balls kept smacking against your ass cheeks. In this position with your legs webbed open to the wall you didn't dare look down. If you did it would surely make you go crazy, this was already driving you crazy.

Your pussy starts gripping around him harder, almost refusing to let him go despite his relentless movement. The sight of your face on the verge of an orgasm combined with the loud squelching noises and wet skin slapping together urged you towards your climax quicker than you thought. Your cunt clenched and flooded all over him, egging him on to go faster. The stimulation was getting to be too much, one orgasm done and another beginning, "Yes, another, you'll come again. Come for me, baby, come for me!"

The next orgasm takes all the air from your lungs, making your vision go spotty and then white. Miguel kissed your neck in appreciation as his own body shuddering with release, painting your insides white with his hot load. Your pussy milked him of every drop of it.

The sticky mix of cum leaks and flows from you when he finally pulls out and takes you into his arms, "Open your eyes beautiful, it's okay now, I'm here, I've got you." You opened your eyes, vision blurry but clear just enough to see him press a firm kiss to your forehead. You melted against his body, murmuring an apology for the cum making puddle on the floor. "Takes two to make that mess. I'll clean it up don't worry, you sleep for a bit alright?" Miguel let out a deep rumble from inside his chest, the sound warming you up from the inside out, finally causing your heavy eyelids to close.

#miguel o'hara x reader #spiderverse x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderverse imagine #spiderverse fanfiction #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #miguel o'hara smut #spiderverse smut #miguel o'hara x female reader #spiderverse x female reader #spiderman #miguel o'hara atsv #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 smut #marvel x reader #marvel x you #marvel imagine #marvel headcanons #marvel smut #marvel x female reader

[slutforleeminho]

I have a Suggestion • Han Jisung

Jisung has a suggestion as to how to help you with your insanely high sex drive

You would never consider yourself a slut, but the constant ache in your lower region made it difficult to keep your pants on. You discovered this in high school when you’d come home and make a b line straight to your nightstand where you kept your vibrator and some lube just in case. But you never needed it, your panties were always soaked at the end of the day. The littlest things would get your heart rate up and body burning with need, like that one time freshman year when a very handsome boy had to squeeze between you and someone else, placing his hands on your hips and slipping through the small space, rubbing his entire front against your back and his lower half against your ass. You had to run to the bathroom the relieve the pressure that was building up. And that very same boy is now someone you would trust with your life.

Han Jisung.

He was your best friend and also the only person who knows about your problem. Well it wasn’t a problem at first but it turned into one when you started to go out every Friday and Saturday night with intentions to get railed by complete strangers. And jisung didn’t like that at all. “Are you trying to get aids?” He’d asked you after the third weekend of you going out and not coming home till the morning. And then he started staying over at your place on the weekends just to hold you hostage so you could go out and fall into temptation. But little did he know he wasn’t making it any easier on you, especially when he walked around your apartment in nothing but a towel hanging lowly on his hips, showing off his toned stomach and a prominent v line disappearing underneath the material. And a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, while he walked to the room to grab something out of his bag. He always slept in your bed with you, “to make sure you don’t run off in the middle of the night” he explained while settling under the blankets and letting out a satisfied hum. You didn’t mind sharing a bed with him at all, but it made it difficult on the nights you so desperately needed to touch yourself. And you won’t even lie, sometimes…. you did, with your best friend less than a foot away from you. And you could’ve swore that those nights your orgasms were so much more intense. But you couldn’t figure out why.

It was currently Saturday night and jisung was in the kitchen making you both dinner. It was a sweet gesture but it made your whole body heat up from the sight of him. You finally decided to stop ogling him and walk into the kitchen, and throw your top half over the kitchen island and groan as loud groan of frustration. “Can I pleeeeease just go out tonight? I’ll only be gone for a couple hours.” You smile up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, hoping the cuteness would seduce him into letting you leave, your underwear is probably already ruined so you need to get out of here before you do something you’ll regret. “No” is all he says, continuing on the food. “You let you head fall onto the counter, with a loud thump and a whine coming from your mouth. “This is so annoying” you started flopping around like a fish, your whole body convulsing. “You aren’t my dad y’kow” your voice somewhat muffled by your hair thrown all over your face. “I might as well be, now get up before you get your hair in the food. Why are you whining anyways?” He asked as you straightened you body and fixed your hair.

“It’s uh… kinda tmi” You avoided eye contact by looking at you hands.

“Well go ahead. I already know all your dirty secrets anyway” Did he know you masterbate with him right next to you while you look at his beautiful face as a visual? Probably not.

You took a deep breath and said it before you could think too much about it and chicken out. “I already got off this morning and I still feel like I’m gonna explode. So please let me go out.” Your voice was high pitched. “I have a better idea” You waited for him to continue, open to anything at this point. “ let’s watch porn together, and you can touch yourself if you want too. But I don’t want you out there sleeping around with other guys.” You were stunned for a moment but then imagining the outcome of this. “I don’t know. I get really….. weird when I’m in the mood.” You said recalling the other times you’ve almost gone crazy chasing after your high. “I don’t think straight and I take things too far.”

“I’m okay with whatever you choose as long as you stay.” You could already feel list clouding you senses and you don’t think you couldn’t go without some kind of release tonight. You finally agreed after some time and jisung reassuring you that nothing would change between the both of you and that this was just him helping you out as a friend. He placed his laptop on the coffee table in the living room and pulled up the website “he often uses” he had said. You both sat in the floor in front of it, your backs pressed against the sofa. “What do like to watch?” He turned his head to look at you, while you were staring at the choices on the computer screen, all of the were just regular maleXfemale in missionary. You looked back at jisung almost embarrassed to tell him what you always watch but you do anyways.

“Lesbian” Your voice lower than a whisper. Jisungs eyes got bigger and his dick twitched in his pants. If he wasn’t hard earlier (which he was, seeing you get all needy and beg to let you go out and get dicked down) he was now. He nodded and clicked on the search bar to type it out, and letting you pick which video. You clicked on a video by you favorite creators. A sweet couple, both beautiful, and one of them had the sweetest moans. The video is mostly forplay, one of the girls sucking on her tits and groping her ass and eventually rubbing her middle finger up and down her cunt, making her whimper and grind against her hand. You glanced over at jisung, his arms were crossed and his legs were spread, giving you the perfect view of his hard on. His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration and his lip tucked between is teeth. He was breathing heavily and you could tell he was just as horny as you were now. “I’ll be right back” you said, abruptly standing up and heading to you room. You returned with a blanket and jisung thought nothing of it, you were probably just cold. But as time went on he noticed a little bit of movement under the blanket right in between your thighs. He was so focused on the slight movements he didn’t notice you were staring at him, not halting your movements even a little. When he did look up and meet your gaze he almost came in his pants. You looked so fucked out already, your lips parted and eyebrows scrunched a little from the pleasure, but what really had him going was the way you were looking at him while you did it. I. Fact your hand sped up once you made eye contact and you looked him up and down. “Touch yourself” you finally said. “I don’t have a blanket” he smirked looking down at your covering. You flung it from off your body and threw it at him. “Here you can have mine” you retorted. His jaw almost hit the floor when his eyes scanned over your body. Your short you were wearing earlier we’re now around your ankles along with your underwear. But what shocked him the most is that the movement under that blanket wasn’t just your hand rubbing your cunt, it was a pink dildo. So that must’ve been why you went to your room.

Even with Jisungs eyes on you, you didn’t stop your movements, still plunging the toy in and out of your dripping cunt. He sat there for a moment, surprised by your boldness. “Jisung” he pulled his eyes away from your body to look at your face. “That looks painful” your eyes trailed down his own body. His eyes followed to where yours were looking, and landed on his crotch, where his jeans have gotten significantly tighter. “Ji please” your voice was airy. You rarely called him that unless you were really desperate and trying to convince him of something. He finally gave in and placed his hand over his bulge and started palming himself through his pants. Letting out a sigh of relief, you were right, it was getting painful. But that only lasted a few minutes before you wanted more. “Take off your pants” It went on like that until his pants and underwear were discarded and joined the pile of your own clothes. He was lazily stroking his cock while staring at the screen. While you were staring and him. His toned thighs, the way his hand wrapped around his length, the precum beading at the tip before he swiped his thumb over it to use as lubricant. It was making your insides flutter. Soon he was aggressively pulling at his cock, trying to relieve the building pressure growing in his lower abdomen. You were fucking yourself at the same pace, attempting to match his movements. You were both getting so close but you just couldn’t seem to fully get there. “Ji…. “ he snapped his head in your direction to see what you needed, only find you with your head thrown back over the couch cushion with your eyes screwed shut and you face contorted in pleasure.

Were you…… moaning his name?

Your eyes slowly opened and your head tilted to look at him one last time before you exploded. “Fuck Ji” you let out a drawn out moan and you whole body convulsed and twitched as the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Jisung couldn’t help but watch as you reached your end, squeezing himself a little harder while thrusting up into his hand while spurts of cum painted his hand and thighs. His hand slowed as he came down from his high even though he was still hard. But you didn’t stop, you kept going even after your orgasm. You arched your back from the overstimulation but kept going while letting out small whimpers. “Not enough” you said quietly, still out of breath. “What do you mean?” Jisung asked, clearly confused. “It’s not enough Ji I need……” your wrist finally slowed and you pulled the toy out of you and set it to the side. You sat up straight and looked into his eyes. “I need you to fuck me Jisung” his eyes widen and his lips parted like he wanted to respond but he couldn’t. “Please” you begged.

He wasn’t about to miss possibly his only chance to be with you.

“I thought you’d never ask” he shot up from his spot on the floor and hovered over you, placing his lips to your neck and his hands on your covered breasts. You moaned as he sucked on the most sensitive spots on your neck and collar bone. He raised your shirt up until it was over your head and thrown across the room. Once you were completely exposed to him he dove into your chest, sucking and licking at your nipple and then moving to give the same attention to the other one. Your fingers were tangled in his hair, gently pulling and urging him to continue. He trailed down your abdomen and lest soft kisses on your inner thighs. After some encouraging from your whines and whimpering he finally licked a long stripe up your center before diving in and sucking on your clit.

“Shit Ji” your back arched and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His tongue worked wonders on you, pushing in and out of your entrance and nudging you closer to the edge once more. He pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them while roughly sucking on your clit. Your fingers pulled harshly at his hair making him moan. The vibrations shot through your body and your legs began to shake and your body convulsed as your second orgasm hit you hard. Your thighs wrapped around his head and his tongue slowed as you came down from your high.

Before he could even say a word you were pulling him up to you and begging for more. “I need you inside me” you wrapped your legs around his torso and pulled his shirt off of him. “You weren’t kidding when you said you don’t think straight” he smirked down at you. “Do you wanna stop?” You raised your eyebrows at him, daring him to say yes. “No” is all he said. “Good, cause I might cry if we do.” He was about to say something smart but you cut him off by kissing him. Aggressive. Aggressive was the only word to describe it. All teeth and tongue, moaning into each other’s mouth. Desperate to feel something, anything, you placed you hand around his throbbing cock and aligned it with you core, squeezing it slightly. You ground your hips upwards and his tip pressed against your entrance but didn’t quite enter. You were the first one to break the kiss. “Please just put it in Ji” you felt like you would explode if you didn’t release soon. “You’ve tortured me enough tonight”

“Oh not nearly enough” he was smiling ear to ear which worried you.

“Save it for another time”

“There’ll be another time?”

“If you don’t want me going out then yes” apparently that was all it took for him to finally push in, filling you up perfectly. The stretch was amazing, he may not be the biggest guy you’ve been with but he was at least in the top five.

His thrust started out slow but soon sped up, per your request. He was hitting every spot just right, making your toes curl. You ran your hand down his abdomen, he didn’t have abs but he was toned, and the firmness was making you clench around him. With every thrust you could see his muscles clench and unclench, you could hear his heavy breathing and quiet moans. You could see a thin layer of sweat building on his skin, the way his hair was sticking to his forehead and his lips were parted. His eyes were screwed shut, probably trying his hardest not to cum to soon. You never looked so closely at the people you slept with, but now you were taking in every detail of him, drinking in the way he moans your name and holds you so tight. It was so intimate and was going to have you coming for the third time very soon. “Oh my gosh” was all you could get out before you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you, and moaning his name as your walls clamped around him making it hard for him to move. But the tightness made his hips stutter and suddenly he was spilling his seed into you without a warning.

He collapsed on top of you, unable to move as he came back to earth. Your fingers played with his sweaty hair while you both just layer in your living room floor completely naked. “That was the best idea you’ve ever had” you stared at the ceiling until he lifted his head to look at you. “Are you satisfied now?” He asked jokingly. “I could go another round” you answered not so jokingly.

PLEASE READ

First i would like to say THANK YOUUU SO MUCH FOR 200 FOLLOWERS!!!!!!! This is so exciting! And I would also like to apologize for not being active. After the passing of Astro member Moonbin and some personal things happened, I felt like I needed a break from everything. And after this incident I created a twitter and instagram account dedicated to saying kind things about skz. I know people say we can’t help them but I’m sure as hell going to try. They’ll probably never see it and that’s fine but I just want them to know how loved they are. Please I beg you go follow it so it can grow and reach more stays and possibly skz, it’s stayville143 and you can dm that account of something you would like to say about them and I’ll surely post it. I’m so sorry for the long message but I’m tired of seeing these idols lose their lives to hate. And I don’t think I could take it if something happened to any of straykids.

Taglist: @yumiblogs

#kpop #kpop oneshots #kpop senarios #kpop smut #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz smut #han jisung #jisung x reader #jisung imagines #jisung scenarios #jisung smut #skz jisung #han jisung skz #han jisung smut #han jisung stray kids #han jisung scenarios #han stray kids #stray kids smut #straykids han #slutforleeminho

[joyful-writings]

❀ sugar 'n' spice

sim jaeyun/park jongseong x fem!reader

word count: 1,172 synopsis: threesome w hard dom!jay and soft dom!jake (pwp, who's surprised) warnings: SMUT (🔞MINORS DNI🔞), cunnilingus and fingering suggested (it's implied but not described), pussy slapping (very miniscule detail but it still happens), mentioned rough sex (minor description + softdom!jake gets a little rough? sorta?? it isn't very detailed anyway), p-in-v (protection not mentioned but wrap it up, don't be stupid!!!), fellatio and cum-eating (kinda?), jay calls reader "slut" "whore" and "bitch", (non-sexual) tension and some arguing between jay and jake a/n: i've never really written threesome smut, so, like... good luck. it's more focused on jay and jake then the reader, and i don't know if anything in this really makes any sense. i just needed to try and get this out of my head because my brainrot is going brrr

"Keep her legs open."

"I'm trying."

Jake's grip on your thighs tightened, trying to pull them apart while Jay aided him, pushing as his fingers dug into your plush skin. You whined and writhed in Jake's hold, hips twisting in his lap as you tried to deter Jay from stimulating your core any more than he already has.

It's been nearly forty minutes now, and Jay's made you cum from his tongue and fingers three times. Jake's been forced to wait his turn, cock straining almost painfully as you relentlessly squirmed in his lap, unintentionally teasing him.

"Hold her still!" Jay barked another order at his friend.

"I'm fucking trying!" Jake spat back.

Frustrated and impatient, Jay slapped your pussy, two loud claps ringing through the bedroom. Your body jolted and you let out a sharp cry, yet you finally gave in. Spreading your legs obediently, you leaned back into Jake's chest.

Jay shot a sharp look at Jake, scoffing before lowering his face toward your core, "Was that really so hard for you to do?"

Jake just rolled his eyes. This is how it always was.

Jay was typically rough with you. He'd overstimulate you for his own delight, loving how you struggled to maintain some sort of dignity before throwing it all away with your release. He'd test your limits by choking you and splitting you open on his dick with barely any prep. He was never too extreme, though. He didn't want to hurt you, only seeking to pleasure you— as well as himself —at the end of everything. Plus, Jake would never allow him to push you too far.

Jake was the opposite of Jay. If Jay was the spice, then Jake was the sugar. He loved to pamper and praise you, to take his time as he appreciated every centimeter of your body. His touches were always soothing caresses, his strokes were slow and steady as he put your needs ahead of his. He never forced you to take more than he knew you could handle.

Listening to you helplessly begging and pleading with Jay now, Jake couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing your thighs tight again, he lifted your hips away from Jay's mouth. Free from stimulation, you took a moment to catch your breath, lolling your head back tiredly. Jay, on the other hand, glared up at Jake, tensions rising between them. "What the fuck?"

"You're fucking torturing her." Jake held you close, wrapping an arm around your middle. "I'm gonna give her what she needs, then we'll be done."

"Maybe you'll be done," Jay huffed. He sat up, sitting on his knees to appear just a bit bigger. "I know she can take more— she's just a little slut, Jake. Why don't you ever treat her like one?"

"Because I'm not a sadistic asshole..."

Sliding out from behind you, Jake laid you down on the bed, ensuring there was a pillow under your head. He stood and stripped himself of his final clothing items— a pair of boxers, presumably ruined by precum —before hovering over you. With one hand on your cheek, caressing the soft skin, his other hand aligned his tip with your entrance. Jake kissed you sweetly as he pushed in, making you moan against his lips.

Jay watched you both from the end of the bed with disinterest. "So pathetic..." 

However, he had to admit, something about the way you gazed at Jake so adoringly made his desire for you stir in his lower stomach. He couldn't help himself from stepping toward the edge of the bed, pelvis level with your head. Grabbing your jaw, Jay turned your head toward him, stealing your attention from Jake. Your eyes widened at the sight of Jay's cock right in front of your face.

"Open."

You quickly obliged, mouth falling open and tongue rolling out. You tried inching your face closer to Jay's length but could only move so far, barely flicking your tongue across his cockhead. Jake gazed at you, almost dumbfounded, wondering how you could be so desperate despite being so worn and sensitive. It made his thrusts a bit harsher, his breathing heavier while he watched Jay rut himself into your mouth.

Jay gripped the hair at the back of your head, forcing your mouth up and down his cock at a bruising speed. You could barely breathe, continuously gagging around him, drooling from the corner of your mouth. Being used by him made you clench around Jake, tearing a groan from the former's throat.

"She squeezin' you?" Jay smirked upon seeing Jake's scrunched-up face. "Bet she is, bet her pussy's squeezin' you so tight... Little bitch loves being used like a whore."

Jake ignored Jay's taunts, losing himself in pleasure as he pistoned in and out of your tight cunt. He didn't even notice his grasp on your waist tightening, sure to leave dark fingerprints, stubby nails trying to dig into the flesh. It made you moan around Jay's dick, Jay grunting in turn.

"Fuck her harder."

Jake looked up at Jay, dazed. "What? No."

"Quit being scared." Jay glanced at Jake for only a moment, primarily focused on the way your mouth took him in. "Fuck her good. Make her cum, Jake. Can't you do that?"

Now, Jake was irritated. And that irritation was released unto you, Jake taking your legs and hoisting them up to his shoulders, hugging them against his body as he started slamming into you— quite literally. The sound of his hips roughly hitting yours overtook every other sound within the room. You clawed at the bedsheets beneath you from Jake's newfound pace, crying around Jay's length and making his thrusts stutter.

"Shit..." Jay brought both hands to the back of your head, forcing himself down your throat as he came with a low moan. Gradually pulling back, his warm, thick cum flooded your tastebuds, coating your mouth.

Before you could swallow, Jay pulled out and turned your head to face Jake. "Open up and show him what you've got in there."

Looking up at Jake with a teary gaze, you opened your mouth as told. Jake took one look before his eyes rolled back, burying himself deep in your core. He didn't even realize he was so close to the edge, but seeing you like that shoved him over it, moaning and whining shamelessly as he came in your cunt.

"You gave her what she needs, like you said. You done?"

Jake furrowed his brow for a second, looking back at Jay with a small glare. Though, he wasn't upset with Jay necessarily— he was ashamed of himself for craving more. When Jake shook his head, Jay smirked. Refocusing on you, he grabbed your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks. "Seems like you're in for a long night... But you'll be a good slut for us, won't you?"

Jay tapped his fingers against your cheek, hand sliding down to the base of your throat after. Jake merely watched, feeling himself getting hard all over again.

a/n: uhhh happy sunghoon day???? i know this isn't a sunghoon fic, but i am writing for him as we speak! i still wanted to post something in the meantime, and i've been plagued with the unholiest of thoughts recently, so here we are

✿ partially inspired by jungwon saying jake's sweet and jay's venom in their sweet venom studio choom behind

#joyfulwritings #>1k words #kpop #fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #enhypen #enha #enhypen fanfic #enha fanfic #enhypen smut #enha smut #enhypen jay #enha jay #enhypen jake #enha jake #enhypen jay fanfic #enha jay fanfic #enhypen jake fanfic #enha jake fanfic #enhypen jay smut #enha jay smut #enhypen jake smut #enha jake smut

[cherrygenshin]

Obey Me! Rut HC's

Warnings: SMUT! 18+! MINORS DNI! Breeding, that's about it lol, it's pretty tame for smut.

GN reader

Smut under the cut!

Lucifer

His rut lasts a bit longer than most demons, usually goes for one or two weeks.

Wouldn't really want you involved due to the fact his nature can be a tad uncontrollable during his rut, but will let you aid him if you insist.

His pride goes absolutely wild during his ruts. He doesn't normally mark you? Now he does. He doesn't normally like the idea of people watching? Now he'll take you anywhere, even if people are around.

Also becomes very possessive. Watch out if he smells one of his brothers on you, you WILL be punished.

Likes it when you're loud and will purposefully try to make you scream, he wants his brothers to hear who's pleasing you so well.

Actually uses LESS dirty talk while he's in his rut. His brain is filled with thoughts of breeding you and bringing himself pleasure, he doesn't really have the mental capacity to think of sexy things to say.

On that note, in place of where he'd usually talk, he grunts and groans.

Even though his brain is telling him to breed, he's not that keen on the idea of kids. He already has 6 brothers to look after, does he really need more responsibility?

In the short periods where his strong urges reside, he will make sure to be incredibly attentive to you, making sure you're staying hydrated, smothering you in kisses and praise of how well you're doing for him.

Mammon

His rut is normally pretty short, only lasting 4 or so days.

He's demenor doesn't really change too much, he's pretty horny in general so you're used to being pulled aside for a quickie when he needs one.

Actually makes a little nest in his room, piling his blankets, pillows, shirts, and anything of yours he can find all together.

Unlike Lucifer, he will purposefully seek you out and ask for your help during his ruts. You're his human, you're both in this together!

Like glue to your side, in the small moments you're not fucking like rabbits he will be at your side, touching you in some way. Makes him more domestic??

Becomes slightly more subby, will beg much faster than usual and will whine/cry when reaching his climax.

DIRTY TALK KING?? "Fuck yes, gonna fill you up" "Wanna take my cum baby? Yeah you do." "Gonna breed you, gonna make y' nice and full with my seed."

Can't keep his fucking mouth shut, not that you mind.

Like Lucifer, he is an aftercare king. He's canonically really caring in general, and thankfully his rut doesn't take away from that. You're his special human, he needs to make sure you're okay :)

Leviathan

Poor baby gets hit HARD, his ruts last for two or more weeks.

He won't approach you for help, you'll have to seek him out and offer to help him. Maybe even have to beg him to let you help him. Poor boy is just so embarrassed!

When he eventually agrees to letting you help, be prepared to not leave his room for days on end.

Nest King 👑 Fills his little tub up with all of his body pillows (and maybe he's got one of your panties hidden in amongst the pillows) it gets so full you can't even tell there's a bathtub under all that mess.

His tail will be wrapped around you 24/7, even when you're not busy going at it.

Gets very possessive, but in a quiet way? He won't openly tell you he's unhappy that --- spoke to you, but there will be signs.

LAYS EGGS!!!

Has two dicks for a reason, one lays eggs and one fertilises them.

The idea of you carrying his eggs drives him absolutely insane, he will cum at just the thought of you with your belly swollen with his eggs.

Loud, like, ridiculously loud. You know the way pornstars moan like they're receiving the best pleasure they've ever received the moment they get touched?? That's Levi.

Even though he's the one breeding you, he still begs when he's close to climax. "Please lemme fill you up!" "Please, please take my cum!"

Unfortunately bb boy isn't big on aftercare, he barely takes care of himself so it may be up to you to make sure you're both hydrated and well fed. He appreciates you very much though and will be sure to tell you.

#obey me #obey me smut #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #lucifer smut #mammonobeyme #anime #om! leviathan #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me nightbringer

[stvharrngton]

kinktober: day seven

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni, use of toys (butt plug), unprotected p in v

word count: 0.9k

taglist: @inkluvs @dukesmebby @sweetbabygirlsworld @kennedy-brooke @gvf23 @wheel-of-hyperfixation @mooonyweasley @steveshairspray

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

You lay in Steve’s bed, nothing but your bra and panties on and him in his boxers. Both your hands were wandering across each other’s body, touching soft skin, dancing across moles and freckles. You kissed each other lazily, lips melding and tongues sliding against one another.

It was one of those make out sessions that started as nothing, but once you started taking each other’s clothes off you found yourself getting hot under the collar. Your fingers began to grip, your kisses began to feel like something more.

But when Steve pulled away from you, hushing your complaints with a chuckle, he reached for something that was stashed under the bed.

“I went shopping today,” he told you, “got you a little something.”

He pulled out a little black paper bag, with no writing or pictures on and you immediately knew where he’d spent his afternoon. In that one store across town, the one that’s down a side street, the one nobody talks about but everyone knows where it is and what kind of business it is.

You nodded in anticipation, wondering what it could be. You liked what you liked in the bedroom but you were always down to try something new, especially if it was Steve’s idea. There wasn’t much in the bag, just a small white box and a bottle of scented lubricant.

The bottle specifically had you raising your eyebrows, wondering what on earth he could have bought. It was clearly something Steve was excited about, the smirk on his face clear.

“I thought we could use this tonight?” He asked, opening up the little white box and pulling a shiny silver plug from the plastic wrapper, a big pink gem in the shape of a heart attached to the end of it, “I just— I think it would look so fuckin’ hot in you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his proposition, your eyes wide, caught like a deer in headlights. You thought about it, the thought of your hole being filled up all pretty whilst Steve fucked you senseless did have you clenching your thighs together.

So you agreed.

Steve had you lay on your front, knees bent keeping your ass in the air for him. He’d worked you enough to where you felt comfortable, starting with his tongue, delicately licking over your hole and finishing with his fingers aided with the strawberry scented lube.

“It’s gonna be cold, baby,” he stated, dousing the shiny plug with more of the gel, “you ready?” Steve asked quietly. His large palm soothing over your hip, squeezing you reassuringly. You nodded.

Steve sat back on his heels as he breathed in through his mouth, exhaling the same way accompanied with a groan. The boy stroked at the flesh of your ass as they made their way down to your thighs, finishing off with a gentle squeeze.

“Wish you could see yourself, pretty girl,” he breathed out, tongue darting out to wet his lips as Steve wrapped his fingers around his cock now, tugging and stroking slowly and torturous.

You glanced over your shoulder at the boy, who’s gaze was totally fixated on where the little pink gem twinkled in the dim light of his bedroom. Steve was no different when he actually got to sink his cock into you, your wet walls clenching around him as you both moaned out.

He held your hips firmly, making sure your legs stayed as spread as possible. His hips snapping against yours in a deep and hard rhythm, your slick coating Steve’s cock.

“Fuck, baby,” Steve moaned, “you feel so fuckin’ good,” his thumb coming to graze over the pink jewel, “you like feeling full up whilst I fuck your pussy, hm? Does it feel good? Tell me, fuck.”

You whimpered loudly, lest it be muffled by the pillow, “Yes, fuck!” you whined, the noise coming out strangled, “Feels so good, Steve.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, hands soothing over the small of your back, your skin hot with pleasure, “taking it so well.”

Steve picked up the pace, his fingers firmly at your hips now, the tips digging in leaving pretty violet bruises for the morning. His head was thrown back, jaw slack and mouth hanging agape as his moans and groans turned into whines and whimpers. He was a fucking picture.

You cried out as Steve began to hit that sweet spot deep inside, your fingers reaching beneath you to stroke at your clit. The bud throbbing beneath your fingertips, edging yourself closer and closer to your climax.

“Such a pretty little thing,” Steve murmurs, more to himself than you you’re sure, the pads of his fingers once again skirting over the plug, “so fuckin’ warm and tight I bet.”

Your eyes rolled back at his words, the sound of skin slapping against skin the only thing you could concentrate on, “Oh, Steve,” you moaned. It was loud, obscene, pornographic, almost.

Steve felt the beginnings of your orgasm as you clenched around his cock, your sopping cunt hugging his length. The speed of his thrusts increased, his hips moving like lightning against you as his skin shone with sweat.

“Go on, baby,” he whined, all high pitched and breathy, “cum all over my cock, that’s it, let it all go.”

You didn’t need telling twice, the sweet release overcoming your fucked out body. You cried out in pleasure, white hot heat coursing through your body as your legs shook, your knees buckling if it wasn’t for Steve’s strong hands holding you up.

He wasn’t far behind you, cum thick and creamy painting your insides. “Fuck,” Steve moaned, eyes squeezed shut as his thrusts became sloppy, “take it, take it.” He chanted over and over again.

You were both spent as you collapsed into one another atop the sheets, bodies clammy and chests heaving as you tried to catch your breaths.

Money well spent, Steve thought.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #kinktober2023 #k.fic

[louloulemons-posts]

Tea and Toast

Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary : Eddie shows up at your house in the middle of the night.

Word Count : 1.1k

Warnings : Not proofread, another 2am fic, angsty, happy ending?, reader isn’t described with any pronouns or psychical features, Eddies dad, Eddie gets hurt, physical assault, talks of Eddies mom, sad Eddie, cuts and bruises, reader takes care of him.

A/N : This one is a heavy one, so please don’t read if you don’t feel comfortable 🤍

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“Baby,” you hear, brain foggy with sleep. Whining in reply, you try to block out the noise. “Sweetheart,” you feel your body being shook.

You’re awake, rubbing your eyes, to wake up your mind. Looking around in the darkness you find Eddie. “Hey,” you say, voice thick with sleep.

Pushing up, you look at him, leaning over to your lamp. He stops your hand. “Eds?”

“Just leave it off.”

“What are you doing here, thought you weren’t coming over tonight?”

“I know, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” He stood from your bed, but you pulled him back gently.

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” you said softly. You pulled him closer to you, “But I know you, and I know you wouldn’t show up at,” you paused and looked at your clock, “2am, randomly without a reason.”

“I couldn’t stay there,”his voice broke.

“What?” you instantly become concerned.

“Im sorry I didn’t know where else to go. He showed up and Wayne’s at work and I-I couldn’t,” his breathing sped up.

“Hey, hey slow down it’s okay. You’re safe,” you pulled him into your arms. Rubbing his back and playing with his curls the way you know he loved. “It’s okay Sweet boy, I’ve got you.”

Slowly you felt him calm down. “My dad,” he began, you didn’t rush him, “I got back from dropping you home and he was at the entrance of the trailer park.

“Wanted to talk to me. To Wayne. Started yelling, saying we ruined his life, his reputation. I tried to get him to leave but he wouldn’t … a-and then … then he um ..”

“Baby did he hurt you?” you asked carefully, not wanting to overwhelm him. He nodded into your neck, letting out a sob. “I-if he wasn’t being so loud, and the neighbours didn’t come out … I just shut down … just like I used too.”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“One of the guys at the front of the park threatened to call the cops and he bolted.”

“Cause he’s a coward,” you didn’t like bad mouthing people, but Al Munson was the worst.

“Eddie my love, will you let me see your face?” you softly kissed the top of his head and he nodded, sniffling. Pulling back slightly, but not letting go, you turned on your lamp.

Looking at his face, tears came to your own eyes, “Oh my baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” leading him to your bathroom, you pulled out your first aid kit.

His lip was popped, the side of his face bruised, he had a black eye coming and his eye brow was cut. “Can you sit here for me?” you motioned to the closed toilet. He sat on the lid silently.

Making your way to stand between his legs, “This is gonna sting,” you spoke, antiseptic wipe in hand. He hummed, you tried to be as careful as possible, touching his eyebrow, but he let out a hiss.

“Sorry, oh I’m sorry baby. I know it hurts.”More tears fell but you knew it wasn’t out of pain, well not physically, this was in his heart. “Why does he hate me?” he sobbed, resting his head on your stomach.

“Because he’s an awful person. You are everything he could never be. You are kind and loving and sweet and gentle. He is a mean man, a broken man.”

“H-he said it was my fault mom-“

“Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare listen to him, it was not your fault, it wasn’t anyone’s fault.

“B-but he said-“

“I know, but that is because he is a broken man who never learnt how to deal with his emotions. He didn’t talk about your mom and took out all his feelings on you, but Eds you were a baby.

“You were your moms pride and joy, she would hate the way he’s treated you. You have such a good heart and soul, and you honour your mom everyday by being so strong and kind,

“The way you look after Wayne, the kids, me. She’d be so proud. So please do not listen to a thing that nasty man says.”

He calmed in your hold, still holding you tightly. “I love you, thank you for being here,” he said, pulling away from your tummy, his face now splotchy and swollen with tears.

“I will always be here. I love you so much.” You kissed his lips softly, not wanting to hurt him anymore. “Tell you what, if you’re feeling up to it in the morning, we can go and talk to Hop. Tell him what happened, how does that sound?”

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Always. Now let me finish cleaning you up.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Eddie had changed into a pair of clothes he’d left here, whilst you went to make him some toast and tea. Something your mom did whenever you were upset.

You also decided to call Wayne’s work place. “Hello?” an unfamiliar voice answered, clearly tired. “Hi, um I was wondering if I could talk to Wayne Munson please.”

Soon enough you heard his voice, “Munson,” he said simply. “Hey Wayne it’s me.”

“Oh hello Honey, is everything okay?”

“Not really,” you then explained the events of the night. “Is he okay?”

“He was shaken up. I’ve cleaned him up, we’re going to talk to Hopper in the morning. I just wanted to tell you so you could be careful, keep an eye out for him”.

“Well thank you for letting me know. Just … tell him I love him okay, and thank you for taking care of my boy.”

“I always will Wayne, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You wandered up to your room, finding Eddie sat on the bed, legs crossed, eyes skimming across your bookshelf, to keep himself distracted.

“Hey,” you said softly, not wanting to make him jump. “Hi,” he smiled weakly. Passing him the plate and the mug you sat next to him, sipping your own drink.

“I spoke to Wayne, just so he can keep an eye out. He wanted me to tell you that he loves you.” Eddie paused mid bite, almost choking.

“Really?”

“His exact words, he loves his boy. I love him too,” you nudged his shoulder.

“I love you.”

The rest of the night was quiet, you and Eddie drank your tea and ate toast. He lay on your chest, listening to your heartbeat, as you played with his curls.

Soon his soft snores were filling the room. He would be okay. He was surrounded by love, maybe not Al. But Al didn’t deserve him.

People like you, Wayne, your friends. Those were the ones he needed. His family, definitely strange and not at all normal, but a family nevertheless.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any requests 🤍

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #joe quinn #joe quinn imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #joesph quinn #stranger things #stranger things imagine #louloulemons #light angst #angst