#SO problem solved let me show run

[itsthemorph]

Chat petition to let me showrun Doctor Who I’ve got this trust

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

I just want you to know that I was rereading the PDMDZS comics yet again, and I finally caved and watched Legally Blonde because you're like a puppeteer that draws things and I'm like "well, guess I have to see it now." Now, after watching Legally Blonde, I must tell you that Elle Woods is love, Elle Woods is life, Elle Woods is everything to me. Elle Woods would have been able to save Wei Wuxian from the Jins all while looking sparkly and fantastic as she does it. (Obviously with her hype girlies in the background)

Her power and influence know no bounds!

[bat-the-misfit]

sei não

[yuujispinkhair]

NERD!SUKUNA HEADCANONS - Part 2

You can find Part 1 here

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). College AU. 3.5k words 18+, fluff + smut (sex on the kitchen table, oral (both receiving), cockwarming, cumshot). "Enemies" to friends to fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is shy and struggles with her grades. Sukuna is a genius but bad at feelings ;) Minors don't interact. Divider @/.lacedolliee. Credit for the super sexy fanart of Nerdkuna goes to my sweet friend @winterrbluess. The pic was used with Winn's permission 🖤

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to ignore that nagging feeling in his chest anytime he looks at the empty chair across from him, where you used to sit those last few weeks during your assignment.

Nerd!Sukuna, who lies awake at night, haunted by thoughts of you and the what-ifs, cursing himself because he can solve every academic problem and get top grades in all his classes but has no idea how to deal with his feelings.

Nerd!Sukuna, who can't help but stare at you from across the room in the classes you share, feeling a heavy feeling in his chest when he sees you gnaw on your Hello Kitty pen and blink in confusion as you try to make sense of what the professor is explaining.

Nerd!Sukuna, who can feel your eyes on him, too. And he thinks it's fucking cute how you look like the deer in the headlights anytime Sukuna catches you staring. He winks at you and smirks, acting all cool, but there's this suspicious fluttery sensation in his stomach anytime you smile shyly back at him before looking away again.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is secretly into poetry, and finally finds an outlet for all those strange feelings he has been experiencing lately when, one sleepless night, his gaze lands on one of the notebooks he always has on his nightstand, and he grabs a pen and starts to write, ending up scribbling poem after poem about a cute girl with bad grades who drives him insane with her messy handwriting, but who somehow managed to bring so much light into Sukuna's life.

Nerd!Sukuna, who knows he has to finally face the fact that he misses you and wants you back in his life.

Nerd!Sukuna, who finds the perfect excuse to get you back into his kitchen and into his life when you get a lousy grade in one of your classes, and Sukuna bumps not so accidentally into you after class. "That wouldn't have happened if you let me help you with your studies. Come over this afternoon. Usual spot, usual time. Don't be late, princess. A little dummy like you clearly needs me."

Nerd!Sukuna, who says all that with a lazy drawl and his typical rude smirk on his tattooed face, acting as if he doesn't care whether you take his offer or not. But his heart is beating too fast while he turns around and seemingly casually strolls down the hallway, hoping he will find you at his door this afternoon because he really doesn't know what to do if you don't show up.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has to force himself to slow down and not run to the door and yank it open in under five seconds like a lovesick idiot when you knock on it a few hours later.

Nerd!Sukuna, who thinks he's really lucky as fuck when you stand there in front of him nervously biting your lower lip and hugging a stack of books to your chest, as you look up at him with big eyes and ask, "Were you serious about helping me? Because I really think I need you."

Nerd!Sukuna, who almost breaks out into a triumphant grin because he could get used to hearing you say you need him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who finally found his inner peace again now that you are back here in his kitchen, studying with him while sucking absentmindedly on your Hello Kitty pen and getting so cutely embarrassed when asking him questions that you think are stupid.

Nerd!Sukuna, who surprises himself with how patient and gentle he is with you, explaining the same topic over and over again until you finally understand it.

Nerd!Sukuna, who loves to teach you about topics he is passionate about, going into an hour-long rant about the smallest details, complete with big hand gestures and an excited sparkle in his maroon eyes behind his big glasses. And to Sukuna's delight, you don't interrupt him or think it's boring, but instead rest your chin on your hand and watch him the whole time with a dreamy little smile on your face, as if you think he hung the moon.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tells you you will need extra meetings to prepare you for your upcoming exams, even though he can tell he already taught you really well, but he likes the thought of spending more time with his cute little study partner.

Nerd!Sukuna, who joins you on your side of the kitchen table to explain maths to you until late in the night, until your head suddenly lands on his shoulder, and Sukuna hears your soft snores, making him gulp hard even as he murmurs hoarsely, "Did you really fall asleep on me, brat? In the middle of my explanation?", automatically acting annoyed even though he actually likes how warm you feel against him and how sweet and enticing your flowery perfume smells when you are so close to him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who doesn't get an answer because you really are fast asleep on his broad shoulder, and all Sukuna can do is admire your sleeping face, for once not having to pretend he doesn't care and averting his gaze again after a moment, but taking his time to take in your features, which he thinks are really fucking pretty to him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who, instead of shaking you awake, carefully lifts you up in his strong arms and carries you to his bed, carefully laying you down and tucking you into his blanket. He has to bite his lip hard because fuck, seeing you in his bed does things to him. To his dick and to his heart.

Nerd!Sukuna, who sleeps on the couch that night, which means he gets about an hour of sleep, and the rest of the night, he is lying awake, almost losing his mind because he knows you are in the next room, in his bed, so cute and sexy and his mind is showing him all the nasty things he would like to do with you. Like having you under him with your legs wrapped tightly around his hips, sobbing his name and leaving scratches on his back while begging him to nut in you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who can't stop thinking about you in his bed after that one night, and only manages to restrain himself from really trying to hit on you by telling himself he wants you to be able to focus completely on your upcoming exam and not get distracted by how good Sukuna's dick is.

Nerd!Sukuna, who spends a whole Sunday preparing index cards for you with all the important topics you have to remember, all written carefully in his elegant handwriting, making him feel like he is handing you a love letter when he gives you the cards on Monday morning.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels so strangely warm when you run up to him after your exam with a big smile and an excited "Oh my God, Kuna! I passed!" and before he knows what's happening, you jump into his arms, laughing loudly as you hug him tightly, and somehow there's a smile on Sukuna's face and a buzzing in his veins that feels damn nice.

Nerd!Sukuna, who can't get the way your smaller body felt pressed against his out of his mind again, but doesn't know how to get you to hug him again, so he just keeps teasing you to at least get you to playfully hit his biceps or push him away by placing your hands on his chest.

Nerd!Sukuna, who grins when you tease him back and lightheartedly make fun of how big of a nerd he is with his color-coded notes and know-it-all attitude and smartass remarks all the time.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tells you you are just jealous because you don't have such a big array of sticky notes and pens like he has, but he will be charitable and donate some to the ones lacking proper academic attire, aka you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who, for some unfathomable reason, really likes it when he sees you using his sticky notes in class. Maybe because it makes him feel as if you are his.

Nerd!Sukuna, who gets ridiculously pissed off when another guy tries to offer his notes to you. But the problem is solved fast when Sukuna strolls over and puts himself between you and that loser, towering menacingly over him and plucking his stupid notes out of his hands and tearing them into tiny little pieces right in front of him, "She already has me to study with. As if she could learn something useful from you anyway. Get lost before I do the same to you as I did to your sorry-ass notes!"

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to downplay it when you ask him why he acted that way, not ready to admit how much you mean to him and how possessive he is of you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself grabbing a sticker book for elementary teachers on his next shopping trip to the stationary store and starts gluing motivational stickers on your notes with playful comments from him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who discovers he really enjoys hearing your laugh, especially when you reach out and put your smaller hand on top of his much larger one, your soft fingers shyly playing with his while you smile and giggle about a rude but very fitting remark Sukuna made about one of your professors. And suddenly, Sukuna can't hold back anymore. You look so cute that it makes him drop all his rational thoughts and just act on his desires.

Nerd!Sukuna, who kisses you for the first time right then and there, leaning over the kitchen table to grab your chin with his hand and press his lips against yours.

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels almost high from how eagerly you open your mouth for him and let him lick into your sweet, hot mouth. The noises you make get him feeling dizzy with adrenaline, like he usually only feels when he walks into a challenging exam. A cute, breathless "Sukuna..." sighed against his lips, and Sukuna's dick is so hard he thinks he will go insane.

Nerd!Sukuna, whose big, nerdy glasses get all fogged up from how steamy your kisses become. Deep and hungry and sensual, as if both of you have been craving this for weeks and don't know how to stop now that you finally gave in to your desires.

Nerd!Sukuna, who also fucks you for the first time right there on the kitchen table, on top of all your notes and books, not wasting any time because he can't go one more second without being balls-deep inside you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who doesn't care about ruining his notes because it's more important to fuck more of those cute mewls out of you that you bless him with any time he rolls his hips into yours and his cock caresses that spot deep inside you that makes your pussy clench so sweetly around him as if you never want to let go of him again.

Nerd!Sukuna, who thinks this is absolute perfection, fucking you on his kitchen table with his and your study notes and books scattered all around you while you look up at him with that cute expression on your pretty face. And your little skirt that always drives him crazy, is flipped up to let Sukuna watch his cock slide in and out of your pretty pussy, so wet from your juices that it's dripping down onto your history book.

Nerd!Sukuna, who tries to hold back but can't when you cum on his cock with such sweet moans and loud squeals, making Sukuna barely manage to pull out before he nuts hard all over your swollen pussylips and puffy clit and the notes underneath you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who can't bring himself to care about the messed up notes and instead leans down to bury his tattooed face between your spread legs and licks his cum off your pussy, until you scream his name and tug on his hair and bless him with another one of your fucking cute orgasms.

Nerd!Sukuna, who asks you afterward if you want to stay the whole night and feels uncharacteristically nervous about it because sex is easy, but actually sleeping in the same bed with someone is a new thing to Sukuna.

Nerd!Sukuna, who, for the first time since he started college, doesn't go through his notes or read a chapter in one of his academic books before falling asleep but instead fucks you with slow, deep strokes on his bed and then holds you and kisses you until you both fall asleep snuggled tightly against each other.

Nerd!Sukuna, who can't stop laughing when he walks into the kitchen the next morning and finds one of the motivational stickers he bought glued to his coffee mug, with a scribbled note in your messy handwriting: "Peak performance last night, not just at academics but also on the kitchen table and in the bedroom. A+ Keep it up!"

Nerd!Sukuna, who spends the next week not just studying with you but also fucking you thoroughly every chance he gets. He's analyzing every moan, every reaction of your body, learning what you like and committing it to his memory, striving to be the best fuck you ever had because he's ambitious, even when it comes to sex. (Or maybe he is trying to make sure you will never go to someone else to satisfy your needs.)

Nerd!Sukuna, who is super intelligent and always at the top of every class, but knows nothing about love or relationships. But what he knows is that he wants to have you around him as often as possible. And he really really likes spending time with you, studying together and kissing and fucking, and sometimes just talking for hours while holding hands atop your notes.

Nerd!Sukuna, who suspects you kind of like him because you crawl under his kitchen table one evening and give him such a thorough and loving blow job when he complains about being stressed as fuck. You let him cum all over your pretty face while suckling sweetly on his throbbing tip, and Sukuna kind of thinks he can actually see little hearts in your eyes when you look up at him.

Nerd!Sukuna, who loves it when you sit on his lap and keep his cock warm until he is finished with his studies. It gives him even more motivation to hone his reading speed because he only allows himself to move when all his work is done before he grabs your hips and fucks his cock almost desperately into you, fucking you silly, with his glasses hanging askew on his nose from how wild you drive him until you both explode at the same time with loud unrestrained moans.

Nerd!Sukuna, who catches himself wishing your warm naked body was wrapped in his arms on the nights you don't sleep over at his place. And it's certainly not helping that he can smell your flowery perfume on his pillow, and it makes him downright yearn for you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who knows it's not just sex, but who doesn't know how to deal with all those newly discovered feelings, so he just keeps helping you study and gives you orgasms, and cooks for you and buys you all those pretty study supplies in your favorite color and with Hello Kitty stickers which you love so much. He hopes you know this is his love language.

Nerd!Sukuna, who outright refuses when his professor wants to give him a new partner for the next assignment. Sukuna's glare is poisonous when he uses his "my success reflects really well on your university, so you better not make me leave and sign up somewhere else" card to get paired up with his girl again.

Nerd!Sukuna, who thinks this was a pretty good thing to do, judging by the way you cling to him that afternoon and shower him with kisses and smiles, and ride him slowly with your cute little skirt on, mewling his name into his ear and telling him how good he feels inside you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who sits at his kitchen table with his chin resting on the back of his hand, watching you thoughtfully while you suck on your Hello Kitty pen and try to answer your history exercise, looking so cute that it's almost unbearable.

Nerd!Sukuna, who wants to tell you he never felt this way about anybody and never even thought he was capable of feeling this way. But this is a thousand times harder than any academic problem Sukuna ever encountered, and so he says nothing, and when you catch him staring and are about to open your mouth, he jerks his head sternly and drawls, "Eyes on your notes! I don't want to hear a single word until you have completed that question!"

Nerd!Sukuna, who knows you have become his weakness, when he can't stay strict with you and ends up shoving his notes across the table, offering to let you copy them. "But promise me you will read the whole thing, so you learn something at least."

Nerd!Sukuna, who regularly cooks dinner when you are over at his place, making sure to only use ingredients you like. Hell, he even puts your rice into a Hello Kitty shape because the way your face lights up with joy when he does that makes his heart feel so full it's almost bursting.

Nerd!Sukuna, who's standing at the stove making dinner, only wearing his grey sweatpants and no shirt, because he likes the way your eyes always stray to his muscles and tattoos. He smirks playfully over his broad shoulder when you comment on his half-naked state. "I'm only doing this for you, princess! Because I want to help you learn how to work in a distracting environment. And nothing is as distracting as my body."

Nerd!Sukuna, who laughs when you abandon your notes and walk up behind him with your Hello Kitty pen and start writing on him, using his broad back as a makeshift whiteboard. He can feel you are writing equations but still asks teasingly, "What is that, princess? Are you leaving little love notes on my back?"

Nerd!Sukuna, who, for the first time in his life, feels something akin to flustered when you giggle and suddenly stop writing equations and instead really start drawing little hearts on his back and placing soft kisses on his skin right next to your drawings and murmur against his skin, "Hmm maybe? Would you mind me writing love notes on you?"

Nerd!Sukuna, who thinks you must feel how fast his heart is beating, when he answers, "I wouldn't mind at all."

Nerd!Sukuna, who feels a big smile spread over his face when he feels you write "I really like you, Kuna."

Nerd!Sukuna, who drops the cooking spoon and turns around and wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his naked chest while saying, "I fucking like you too, princess."

Nerd!Sukuna, who finally knows what to do because there is no way you are beating him at being the first to confess. "You know, you should really catch up and be my girl because I've already been your boy for weeks, and this equation only works if you are mine, too."

Nerd!Sukuna, who can't believe how lucky he is when you hug him tightly and tilt your head to smile at him with happy tears in your eyes, telling him that, of course, you are his girl. And you get on your tiptoes and grab Sukuna's tattooed face with both hands, showering his cheeks and nose and lips with kisses until even Sukuna's glasses are smeared with your lipstick, and both of you are laughing breathlessly.

Nerd!Sukuna, who rolls his eyes playfully when you tease him later that evening, "Sooo, this whole talking about your feelings is pretty hard for you, huh? Looks like I finally found something my favorite super nerd doesn't excel in."

Nerd!Sukuna, who won't stand for that (even though you are right) and ends up getting his poetry notebook out of his nightstand and handing it to you with a grin that is a bit less confident and a bit more nervous than usual, "Here, for you, princess. I have to inform you that while I may not be that great at talking about my feelings, I am pretty good at writing about them."

Nerd!Sukuna, who has never felt as nervous in any exam as he feels now while watching you read the poems he wrote about you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who is glad he is so tall and strong, or you would tackle him to the floor with how you throw yourself into his arms and cling to him like a koala with tears streaming down your face and crying about how sweet Sukuna is.

Nerd!Sukuna, who has never been called sweet before but who feels like he could get used to this when it comes from you.

Nerd!Sukuna, who spends the rest of the day in bed with you, getting the best sex of his life and hours of kisses and cuddles, because apparently, yes, he really is very good at expressing his love for you in poetry form.

Nerd!Sukuna, who sits beside you now in every class the two of you share and who starts using your Hello Kitty sticky notes and sends death glares at anyone who dares give him a side-eye for it, asking them snidely, "What? Do you have a problem with Hello Kitty? Or with my girlfriend?", and then laughing softly when you elbow him and tell him to stop scaring people.

Nerd!Sukuna, who knows he has found his perfect study partner. The only one he ever wants.

Nerd!Sukuna, who never had a girlfriend before and never thought he could find someone who interests him as much as his studies do. But now that he has you, Sukuna found his favorite topic to study for the rest of his life.

AAAHHH I FEAR I NEED HIM 💗💗

I was smiling the whole time while writing those headcanons about Nerdkuna, and I hope he could bring you joy, too!! Thank you so much for all the sweet tags and comments on Part 1 💗 I hope you also enjoyed Part 2!

Comments and Reblogs would be very sweet 💗

[keferon]

Part 2 of Golem!Prowl AU!

_____________________

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Part 1. Next->

The fic under the cut⤵️

Orion looks...sick. Worried. Scared.

“Prowl, do you know what the Great Hunt is?”

Prowl tilts his head keeping up with the lists he received from the Council.

“Traditional raids on monsters made to consolidate control over the land holdings of regular Mechs.”

Orion rubs the bridge of his nose

“It's a massacre.”

Prowl twitches his wing.

“It is a measure of intimidation against creatures that cannot be negotiated with. Brutal, I don't deny that, but experience shows it works. The destructive activity of monsters lessens considerably if they know their actions can be followed by punishment.”

Orion stares at him. For a long time. Silently.

Tensely studying him, as if seeing him for the first time.

“You think killing them instead of finding a compromise is...right?”

Prowl thinks he must be treading on unstable ground.

“I think it works. That is all. Monsters do a lot of damage with their existence. They kill, destroy and pillage. If periodically reducing their numbers reduces their damage, it confirms the effectiveness of the strategy.”

“They just want to live. Primus' sake, they want to eat.”

Prowl sighs. More for appearances than for any real effect.

“I suppose I can't judge them for wanting to survive. It makes sense.”

Orion nods.

He looks oddly pensive.

“Ratchet keeps picking up wounded...” he stammers, apparently trying to find a suitable alternative to the word monster “...wounded beastformers. I've been to his house. It's generous, but I'm afraid of what will happen if he gets caught doing it.”

Prowl frowns

“He should have stopped.”

“You wouldn't understand.” sighs Orion ”Him. Shockwave. We want to help. To make things better. I don't need you to chide me for disobeying the rules, I need you to figure out how to change them. Ghosts and insecticons deserve freedom as much as we do.”

“But...”

Orion looks at him angrily.

“No. Whatever you're going to say in response to that. No. I know you're driven primarily by logic, but I need you to remember it well. All sentient beings deserve to live free. Do you understand? All of them. Period.”

Prowl rolls up the lists and interlocks his fingers in front of him. There are small scuffs on his thumbs and index fingers from constant writing. He occupies himself with running his fingers over them, feeling the difference in texture.

“Mech's freedom in such a case ends where someone else's hungry jaws begin. You can't expect monsters and Mechs to just coexist in peace if you give them freedom.”

“No” sighed Orion ”That's why I support Shockwave's idea with creating an academy for magically gifted Mechs. He's helping to show the world that so-called 'dark creatures' can be as civilized citizens as any Mech. He teaches them to find that compromise. We can't just expect centuries of hate and fear to be forgotten once the laws change. We must direct this process. To help the Mechs understand and accept each other. Guide them, you might say.”

Prowl feels a headache coming on, as it always does when Orion requires him to logically solve a problem the answer to which lies in the feelings rather than the intellect. He's not built for this. It irritates him.

Orion stops right in front of him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Tell me what you think of this. If...let's pretend for a second that my morality fiddles don't matter anymore. That the problem of Mechs and monsters coexisting is something you alone need to solve. And solve it in such a way that the outcome is optimal for us as a society. To maximize the number of happy citizens. What would you do?”

Prowl is silent for a moment.

Orion squeezes his shoulder lightly before continuing.

“'Free from my judgmental conclusions, Prowl. From the standpoint of pure logic. What should we do?”

What to do...Prowl's thought process finally finds a direct and understandable train of thought. Monsters make up a paltry few percent of the population of all living Mechs. The numbers fluctuate depending on which region is being considered of course.

In some cities, some types of monsters are considered just fancy Mechs. Some monsters have risen from the status of savages to being respectable Mechs over the course of history. Even Orion's best friend, Shockwave, could be regarded as a mystical creature in some regions due to his gift of flight.

Nevertheless. The percentage is still minuscule.

But even that tiny percentage takes a significant toll on the economy and quality of life, because just one uncontrollable creature can terrorize an entire city.

He notes the weight of Orion's hand on his shoulder. Not judgmental. Orion promised he wouldn't judge.

“I'd get rid of the monsters.”

“Oh” Orion blinks ”Locked them in cages? Chased them away? Killed them?”

Prowl twitches his wings

“Banishment will only move the problem in terms of space, and imprisonment isn't secure enough. It would make sense to get rid of the monsters. Once and for all. It wouldn't be pretty or merciful, but it would greatly improve life for everyone, at the cost of a tiny percentage of living beings who were already of no use.”

“And you believe that would be a good outcome?”

“I believe it would.”

“But you're not a Mech yourself.” Orion reminds “Would you be willing to be exterminated along with the rest of the creatures if your plan were put into action?”

Prowl tilts his head slightly. Just to make it easier to look at Orion.

“You created me to, as you put it, help you make the world a better place. Sometimes in order to improve something you have to cut out the factors that get in the way. It's simple logic.”

“You didn't answer my question” Orion points out ”How would you feel if I decided to take your advice and destroy all mystical creatures, including you?”

“I am not made to feel” straightens Prowl ”My job is to find solutions to problems. I gave you a solution.”

“You don't include yourself in the reckoning.” snorts Orion “Again. You talk as if you will never be affected by anything.”

As it should be, Prowl thinks. He's a conscientious worker and a ..seemingly law-abiding citizen. He does what he can to make Mech's lives better. Even though he may not be a Mech, he's doing the right thing. Why would something happen to him?

Orion removes his hand from his shoulder and shakes his head.

“'Alright. I've heard you. But I want to make it as clear as possible - what you suggested is immoral, cruel, and should never be implemented. Do you understand me? Never. If you want to build a better world, you cannot and will not build it on other people's deaths. Have I made myself clear enough?”

“Perfectly clear.”

“Good.”

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

Ratchet looks...many words could be used to describe him.

He's standing in the center of the trial room with a lot of emotions written all over his face. But if Prowl had to describe - he'd say Ratchet practically radiates rage. Not violent. More of a powerless one.

The rage of a Mech who knows he's cornered, but refuses to even consider giving up and admitting defeat.

Prowl sits in a far dark corner, silently documenting the whole process.

The council is furious. They apparently discovered that Ratchet has been dragging wounded monsters to his house and healing them all this time.

Which is ... very much as expected from Ratchet.

Prowl wants Orion here, but both Orion and Shockwave are now on a diplomatic mission a few days away, so the only support Ratchet has is...Prowl. Who can't help in any way, so he just sits there and meticulously documents the whole process so that Orion can then be informed of every single detail.

The council doesn't look happy. They say that Ratchet is sabotaging the hunters' efforts to contain the monsters by his actions.They are angered by Ratchet's absolute determination to insist that he was doing the right thing.

Prowl would be impressed, if only Ratchet's stubbornness made sense.

It's simple math. Ratchet saves lives. Monsters take them.

Thus Ratchet's life has much, much more weight and is more valuable.

If Ratchet would just accept the Council's decision now and promise to stop curing monsters, the whole problem would be solved as efficiently as possible.

But Ratchet, of course, persists. Probably just because that's his nature.

Ratchet can also afford to be so stubborn because his skill level makes him incredibly valuable to the Council. Prowl knows for a fact that if any other medic were in Ratchet's shoes right now - they would have been sentenced to banishment or execution by now.

When Ratchet realizes exactly how the Council caught him, his rage is instantly replaced by shock.

This revelation is enough to startle him and make him back down. To nod and numbly swear that he will end his "blasphemous hobby."

Prowl carefully folds the scribbled scrolls into the case as the Council doors close behind both his and Ratchet's backs.

“Orion will be happy to know that you were prudent enough to avoid death.”

Ratchet shifts his gaze to him

“You knew? Knew they could see through our optics? Did you know they could find out anything about any Mech at any time?”

Prowl tucks his hands behind his back and nods politely

“Knowing things is my job.”

Ratchet sighs. Heavy. Exhausted. Doomed maybe.

“How does Orion deal with it...”

“Orion has a reputation with the Council. They consider him a decent, law-abiding Mech, so they see no point in keeping tabs on him.”

“Are you kidding?” Raetchet raises his eyebrows “Orion can't do everything he does and remain ‘decent’ in their eyes. He and Shockwave practically cuddle with every possible creature every day and all they get is a little reprimand????”

Prowl tilts his head

“Orion learned to look away in time. And he has me for everything else.”

Ratchet doesn't answer him. He rubs the bridge of his nose tiredly and starts to walk away.

His shoulders look oddly tense. He looks defeated, but not in the way a Mech would describe a slain turbofox. No. There is a deep-seated, angry determination.

A willingness to act dictated by desperation.

The news of the surveillance has thrown Ratchet off balance but not knocked him off his feet as the Council had hoped.

Prowl looks at his back and walks off in the opposite direction. The problems of living, feeling Mechs have always been and will always be mysterious to him.

Ratchet does what no one expects him to do.

He doesn't stage protests. He doesn't accept the verdict.

He leaves silently, taking with him only medical supplies and an old lantern.

The council is furious, turning over every stone in an attempt to find him, but all in vain.

Prowl's daily duties now include “keeping track of any possible news related to Ratchet.“

And then, no matter what he finds, report to Orion that he's found nothing.

Put on a little regular show for all concerned. Show the Mechs in the Council that Orion remains loyal and does his best to find and bring to justice any blasphemer whether it's a friend of his or not.

He is his purpose. But the more time passes, the harder it becomes for him to trace the path to the fulfillment of that purpose. He envies the golems whose only function is to scrub floors. Their lives are understandable. A clean floor is a temporary but easily attainable goal. They are happy to fulfill the goal for which they were created. And then they're happy knowing their job is done well, until the floor gets dirty again.

Prowl is walking towards his goal, but it's not getting any closer. He knows what he needs to do to get there, but the variables are constantly changing and he has to adjust his course of action each time according to new information, conditions, and Orion's opinion on them.

Politics is infinitely more complicated than mopping floors after all.

————————————

Orion doesn't turn around on him as they walk down the hall. But Prowl can physically feel the attention focused on him.

“Prowl. Did you know I was awarded today for my ''outstanding service'' by the entire Council?”

“I did not.

“They've gone through all the reports and discovered that according to the logs me and my mechs are performing excellently when it comes to eliminating mystical threats.”

“Congratulations.”

“It's funny that you feel the need to congratulate me too” Orion continues ”Because I certainly didn't give orders to eliminate anyone.”

Their pacing doesn't falter. They continue to walk calmly down the hallway as if nothing is happening. But Prowl can practically taste the increased tension.

“Prowl” says Orion “Why is the Council rewarding me for murder? And where are the Mechs they think I killed now?”

Prowl checks the scrolls. Not because he doesn't remember. Just to buy some time to formulate an answer.

“They were the inevitable casualties. I took charge of their destruction. On your behalf.”

“You know how I feel about killing.”

“I know.” nods Prowl for some reason. Why? Not that Orion can see it “I also know how the Council feels about Mechs showing suspicious activity. They would have started watching you as soon as they noticed you were letting monsters slip away from you suspiciously often.”

Orion...sounds... conflicted. He sounds struggling.

“You killed them.”

“I gave the order. As any other hunter would have done in my place.”

Orion stops so abruptly that Prowl doesn't catch the moment and bumps into his back.

“We're supposed to be better than other hunters Prowl! How can you still not grasp that concept!!!”

Orion looks furious. Prowl discreetly looks around.

Around them is a relatively empty hall. Windows covered by heavy curtains. The cleaning golems scurrying back and forth.

“I understand” he says “But let me remind you that you cannot test their trust infinitely. Your 'being better' rests on your reputation. And it's my job to make sure your reputation lives up to it.”

Orion looks at him...Prowl isn't even sure how to describe it. Usually he has to argue with Orion's logic, proving his point but this time...Orion is the one arguing with him.

It feels strange. Uncomfortable.

He's doing everything Orion wanted him to do, but for the sake of it he has to do something Orion can't stand.

Orion clenches and unclenches his fists helplessly. Rubbing the fabric of his cloak.

“Shockwave can save lives without killing anyone.”

“Shockwave is one unfortunate act away from serious consequences” shakes his head Prowl “His academy is looking more and more like his own small army every day. His students are not loyal to the Council, they are loyal to Shockwave. And the Council knows that. And will use it. And it won't be pretty when it happens.”

“No...” shakes his head Orion, not addressing anyone in particular ”No no no no no...”

Prowl can understand why Orion is upset. But he also knows he's right this time. Shockwave may look like a fine example of mercy, but he walks on the very edge of the law and any wrong move will instantly turn him from “out of the box thinker” to renegade.

The Council will come for his head and the Council will get his head because Shockwave will have nothing to prove his loyalty with.

Orion will. Prowl made sure of that.

Orion can bend the rules, can borrow the Council's trust, can do all sorts of reprehensible things. He can stumble and fall and then fall a couple more times and find that it doesn't hurt him because Prowl caught him even before he stumbled.

He did it at the cost of lives. Yes.

But Orion's life is far more valuable than the lives of monsters.

Society doesn't need monsters to become better, but society needs Orion. Monsters need Orion. Because if Orion is gone, no one else will care about his idealistic goal.

“Sometimes I forget how creepy you can be...” mutters Orion ”You're going to betray me sooner or later.”

“I could never betray you.” Prowl twitches his wing.

“You've successfully betrayed what I believe in.”

“It's fine with me if you hate me for it. As long as you are alive, safe, and can continue your quest.”

Orion falls silent.

He turns away to stare at a strip of light from a nearby window. There are beautiful, wrought iron grates that cast an intricate, curved shadow on the floor and walls.

A golem janitor hurries past them.

“I hate it,” Orion sighs.

“It's understandable. But you can't change the system from the inside without becoming part of it first.”

“I was hoping I could become part of it without becoming a murderer.”

“It's okay” says Prowl ”You don't have to. That's what you have me for.”

Orion twitches.

Shockwave falls.

Prowl isn't there to see for himself, but a lot of rumors reach him. Lots. Lots of rumors.

The Mechs say the time of the Great Hunt has come.

They say that when the hunters arrived on the Academy's doorstep, Shockwave didn't let them in.

They say. He stood in front of the gates.

With sword in one hand and the Primus Covenant in the other, and declared that his school was a sanctuary for all living beings in need of protection.

Claimed that anyone who dared set foot inside with a weapon would have to go through him.

“And they retreated!” gestures Orion frantically ”They didn't dare test him! They backed away from the walls of the Academy. I don't know how many monsters were left alive in the forests that night, but none of Shockwave's students were harmed...”

Prowl listens with a healthy dose of wariness

“The Council wouldn't just let him do that.”

Orion begins nervously winding circles around the room.

“You're right, you're right. You're right now and you were right back then. They're going to bring him before the Court by tomorrow, and...”

“There's no chance of that ending well,...is there?" Prowl finishes his thought.

Orion looks pained

“They'll be going through everything he's been up to. Every forged document, every enrolled Mech who by all criteria should be considered a monster. Every time he sheltered them from the Council instead of destroying them. They'll realize what he's been doing and they won't like it at all.”

Prowl...trying to sound reassuring.

“Shockwave has tremendous support from his Academy. There's a chance the Council will be afraid of invoking their wrath and won't judge Shockwave too harshly.”

Orion continues to walk in circles

“You think so?”

“There is a good chance.”

Prowl finds Orion in Sickbay. Which is very disturbing and wrong, because Orion was supposed to be at the Trial. Supporting Shockwave and begging the Council to relent.

But Orion is in Sick Bay. When he shouldn't be.

And he's covered in ugly dark burns. From something Prowl can't recognize.

This is all wrong. It's all--

“What happened at the trial?”

Orion sounds. Startled.

“There was no Trial.”

“What?”

Orion sounds as if something inside him has cracked. In every sense of the phrase.

“The Trial hasn't even had time to begin. He...” Orion clutches his trembling fingers, hoping to still them, but it has no tangible effect. His shoulders are trembling.

He looks like his whole body could be torn apart with one careless touch. “They asked him if he would plead guilty to aiding and abetting dark creatures. All they had time to ask was if he realized he was wrong.”

An uncomfortable, prickly feeling settles in Prowl's mind.

"And?”

Orion squeezes his fingers so hard the creaking of hinges becomes audible.

“It...I...Prowl, his very spark began to ooze dark magic. It was horrible, it was like.. it was eating him from the inside. The entire courtroom became darker than night, many Mechs got burned. I've never seen anything like this before! He..It.. started attacking Mechs and destroying everything...it was like it went crazy...it attacked me and I had to...Prowl I had to fight it! I didn't...I'd heard about it happening but I believed until the last minute that I wouldn't have to face it...”

Gears of chaotic detail fall into place in Prowl's mind.

“Shockwave...turned into a demon...?”

Orion nods shakily

“The Council didn't even have a chance to sentence him or spare him or even sort out what happened.....

He stated that he did not consider himself guilty for what he had done and...Primus was the one who made the judgment before anyone else could...”

That's... terrifying really. For a number of reasons. Losing a close friend is awful, being subjected to such merciless punishment is awful, but also...

What sends a chill down Prowl's back is the moral implication that such punishment carries.

Orion, as if reading his thoughts, raises his gaze to him

“Is what we are doing...wrong? I don't...does Primus think helping monsters is worthy of punishment?”

Now that's a really reasonable question.

Shockwave would say that Primus is merciful and would never condemn a Mech for an act of kindness. But Shockwave ended up being condemned.

Ratchet would say that he doesn't care about Primus' opinion because Primus isn't real. But Ratchet isn't here.

Prowl wants to say that it doesn't matter whether or not Primus thinks they're wrong, what matters is that he can at any moment force his justice on any living spark, so his concept of right has to become Orion's too, or else he's doomed. But Orion is definitely in no state to have a philosophical argument. He looks shattered and Prowl almost instinctively is about to go and find Shockwave, but remembers that option is no longer available.

He's not made for this. Shockwave has always been the one to cheer Orion up on a bad day. Not Prowl, no. Prowl isn't sure what to do so he just sits down next to him and gently places a hand on Orion's shoulder. The one where he can't see the burns, so it shouldn't hurt.

“I don't. I'm used to always relying on your point of view as a reference for what's right and what's wrong.”

“I know” runs a shaky hand over his face Orion “But it's not like I'm perfect. I try, god, I try but just like with the logical part - my vision isn't flawless. Have I been...wrong all this time? Trying to disrupt Primus' intended vision? Maybe what I've been trying to fix never needed fixing. Maybe it's just me being so stupid and not understanding things maybe...???”

Orion cuts himself off mid sentence, realizing that he's started raising his voice and waving his arms around again. He sits back down on the medical bed and curls back up into a miserable ball.

“What should I do....”

“I don't know,” Prowl repeats awkwardly.

He is his goal. But his goal ..doesn't exist anymore?

He doesn't know where to put himself.

Golems are made to fulfill requests. But Orion's request system has been evolving and complicating for so long that Prowl can't tell where its boundaries are anymore.

He feels lost.

——————————

Orion stops cold.

“What...”

Prowl, standing at his right hand looks equally puzzled.

They are in a spacious courtyard bordering directly on the Council building. It's a very beautiful, open and spacious place because it was originally built with large crowds of Mechs in mind. There's wide walkways, a massive circular plaza with fountains and statues.

And right now, it's filled to the brim with Mechs, most of whom Prowl is seeing for the first time. They're all wearing knight armor and carrying weapons, however still kept in their scabbards.

They look like a small army. A very, very diverse army, Prowl realizes. Because there are almost no regular Mechs among them.

Orion looks... distraught.

Mechs? Monsters? A few knights separate and come closer, bowing their heads respectfully.

“Orion Pax.”

There is so much grief and disbelief in Orion's eyes that it physically hurts to look at him.

When he begins to speak his voice sounds hoarse, like someone has poured sand down his throat.

“What...what are you doing here...?”

The knight standing in front of everyone ceremoniously places his palm on his spark.

“We are here to fulfill the last will of our mentor and your friend. Shockwave has decreed in his last will that in the event of his death his legacy must pass to you and those of us who wish to carry on his work must publicly pledge our allegiance to your will.”

Orion clutches his hands together to keep them from starting to shake again.

“But...I was there. I...your mentor was slain by my hands...how can you..."

"It doesn't matter. Everything that was his is now yours." smiles the knight sadly "We will make sure his legacy lives on. And even if the Academy falls - you can always count on us."

At the same time as he finishes speaking, the knight in blue armor drops to one knee, pulling Shockwave's sword from its sheath and holding it out respectfully to Orion... who looks like he's about to start crying.

He dazedly accepts the sword, twitching in surprise when it turns out to be heavier than expected and probably tries to say something, but all that comes out is a short sorrowful sigh.

He just.

Clutches the sword to his chest, watching in disbelief as all the arriving mechs get down on one knee following the blue knight. There aren't that many mechs, but at this point - they seem to rival the sea.

Prowl knows some of them. Many of them made their way to Shockwave after Orion found them. There's the harpy over there who nearly ripped Orion's head off the first time they met. A few ghosts he can remember the faces of but doesn't know the names. He'd had a long argument with Orion that day, trying to convince him that he shouldn't take their word for it when they promised to make it up to him.

And now they're all here. In beautiful new armor. Executing their mentor's last will and testament.

Just like regular Mechs, only a little eccentric looking.

The crowd of hunters that has come to find out what's going on looks as speechless and dumbfounded as Orion.

" What" Orion also gets down on one knee to be on the same level as the knight "what's your name?"

Prowl squints warily from behind Orion's shoulder. The blue mech looks normal, but to be honest, there's no way someone coming out of the Shockwave Academy is going to be an normal plain mech. There has to be a catch somewhere.

"My name is Skids," smiles the knight shyly. "I am...was...Shockwave's best student."

"You are very brave Skids" smiles Orion sorrowfully "I promise to do my best to take care of Shockwave's legacy. And you."

Orion drops his head on the table tiredly.

"This is crazy..."

Prowl pulls an important document from under Orion's head

"It's also quite devious. Shockwave told them specifically to swear to you where all comers can see it. So there's no way for the Council to accuse you of purposely swaying an army of monsters to your side. Everyone saw that this gift was given by force. Now you have many allies with unique skills who are loyal to you and the Council won't try to take them away because they are firmly convinced that you are loyal to the Council."

Prowl examines the document for damage before setting it aside.

"It is..."

"Shockwave gave you an opportunity."

"And I don't know what to do with it!" raises his head Orion "Shockwave was smarter than me and made a lot of plans in case of...I don't know...anything?? I didn't...Prowl. We've been down this path for so long and I was always sure there would be something good at the end of it. Or at least better than it is now..."

Orion rubs his chin and shakes his head awkwardly

"...But if there's only the wrath of Primus and endless darkness at the end...I can't ask anyone to follow me there. I'm not sure if I can keep going myself..."

He sighs helplessly

"I'm not even sure if that even matters."

"The chance that Shockwave would try to use you in some way was about twenty-eight percent."

Orion twitches

"What?"

"I understand that you're hurt by his...fate." Says Prowl "But have you considered the possibility that Shockwave was being punished for betraying you rather than the Council?"

Orion doesn't even answer at first. Just looks at him dazed and bitter.

"Prowl...no. He couldn't have."

"I'm just speculating" shrugs Prowl "Shockwave was punished but as far as I know God didn't bother to name the exact charge. We don't know one hundred percent what exactly caused his...sentence. He may have betrayed the Council's ideas, or he may have betrayed yours."

They both just exist in silence for a while. Processing the information.

"If...and I mean if!!! If Shockwave was convicted of harboring monsters, then everything we've been doing all this time can be considered useless blasphemy..." says Orion slowly "...but if he was punished for something else..."

"...then that would mean there's nothing wrong with your idea." finishes Prowl.

Orion frowns

"It would also mean that Shockwave lied to me..."

Prowl nods. The situation is ugly no matter which way you look at it.

Shockwave, as Prowl knows him, would hardly have framed Orion, but Mechs tend to go to great lengths to avoid execution.

If Shockwave had shifted some of the blame to Orion then, it would have partially saved him. Was that what he was going to do? Was this what Primus had stopped him from doing?

Orion's finials twitch slowly

"I don't know Prowl. I don't know what to do. I don't want anyone else to get hurt because of my fantasies."

Orion is hard to read, but right now he's an open book.

Prowl tilts his head

"You're scared."

Orion looks. Defeated. Crumpled.

Discolored.

" I am."

Prowl can't work with that. He's used to solving logical problems and making lists and strategies.

He doesn't know how to get someone to stop being scared.

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

"I don't know." mutters Orion "I don't know, I have no idea. It's too much...All these new knights, this whole council situation and now you're also saying that the mech I treasured the most could actually be a liar and...just leave me alone."

"But..."

"Just go away!" shakes his head Orion "Go find something else to do, find a hobby, I don't know! Get out of my head and out of my personal life!"

Prowl nods silently.

Places a couple papers in their places and silently walks out the door.

Gestures a greeting to some mech passing by.

And is completely unsure of what to do with himself.

Orion's too stunned by everything that's happened to give him a clear purpose. And without a purpose, he...he's gone.

He continues to stand by the closed door.

A thought runs obsessively through his mind.

If Shockwave was sentenced for something no one knew about, then punishing him the moment of that trial was a truly terrible decision and even worse timing.

But if Shockwave was sentenced for helping monsters...Prowl isn't sure why his mind resists the idea.

Maybe he's not being objective because he shares Orion's views and aspirations.

Maybe because he has looked at the entire square filled with dangerous monsters and has seen nothing but sorrow and respect in them.

The idea comes naturally.

Then God must be wrong.

He looks at the cleaning golems again. He envies them.

They are peace and contentment.

They are a clear and simple goal.

Probably the biggest stress that happens to them is random mechs passing by and interfering with their cleaning.

And then there's Prowl, standing by with no meaning or purpose and wishing he could throw something heavy because the one who gets in his way is an indefinable force of nature and a complex system of values and beliefs created by millions of years of cultural development....

But Primus can't stop him, can he?

Prowl is not alive. He has no emotion so that his intentions can be categorized as evil, but more importantly he has no spark so that its magic can turn him into a demon.

He is his purpose. His purpose is his god. And Primus stands in his way.

He turns around and walks away.

[monstersflashlight]

Patreon Commission for @i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

Request: I would absolutely love a story about a demon/dragonborn fucking the reader before making them walk the stage with their cum full of them. Super heavy on the praise!

Breeding congratulations

Dragon x fem!reader || praise kink, dirty talk, breeding, exhibitionism kink (light)

When you started dating a dragon, you were expecting a lot of things (obviously that included fantastic sex), but what you weren’t expecting was the way he always made sure you were confident and praised. Truth be told, that was probably a personality trait, and nothing to do with him being dragonborn, but who cared about that? You finished your degree and your graduation was in a couple days. You had other worries. Such as: should you invite him? You’d only been dating for a couple months (the best months of your life) and he was so… intense. But you were pretty sure you were falling for him and you wanted him to be there.

But at the end he was the one who solved the problem. He insisted he wanted to go to cheer for you and show you how proud he was of you, and made you feel so special all the time that you agreed. Your impostor syndrome a bit too high to feel like your accomplishments need to be celebrated, but once again your praise kink and his amazing mouth convinced you to. And good goddess are you happy about that choice…

You are walking down a corridor on your way to the main area of the graduation when he calls out your name. You look around and almost swallow your tongue. He looks phenomenal, he’s leaning against a wall with a black suit that makes the red of his scales pop and makes your mouth water wanting to devour him.

Looking at his smirk, he probably can smell how much you appreciated his outfit. But he doesn’t comment, he simply kisses your cheek and offers his hand. You thought he would just walk away hand in hand, but he pulls you into some kind of classroom. In two seconds flat, your face is pressed against the wall, and his big body is covering your back.

“Hello there, you look ravishing.” His husky voice makes you let out a little pant. The way he’s pressing against you and rubbing his huge erection against your ass is driving you a little bit crazy. “You did so good with your degree… I’m so fucking proud of you.” His compliments make your head spin.

“Stop it,” you complain, your face getting redder and redder as he continued with his compliments.

“You don’t want to hear it? Too bad.” He laughs. “I’m going to tell you how good you did and how fantastic you look. You have it all. The brains and the hotness and the body…” His voice drops as he whispers: “And the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen.” You moan, your blood running faster and your insides twitching as his dirty words permeate your brain.

Fuck, he can get you going with such few words, and he doesn’t seem to be about to stop… His hands travel down your front, cupping your boobs and pinching your nipples with weird accuracy over your dress and bra. You let out a little cry that makes him chuckle again, rutting his dick harder against your ass. You rock back, making him grunt and pressing you harder against the wall in retaliation.

“You aren’t in control here, pretty girl. You are going to get what I give you,” the roughness in his voice makes you tremble.

“And… And what is that?” You ask, tempting fate.

He growls as you feel him disappear for a second before his hands are pushing your dress up until it’s resting over your hips. He guides your hands to the hem of it: “Hold the dress up,” he orders.

You obey, curious and horny to see what he does next. He doesn’t disappoint, his whole hand covering your pussy and pressing up. You groan as he makes you get on your tiptoes as he rubs over your clothed clit.

“Fuck, you are soaked. Is this because of me? Do you like having me here this much?” You nod, unable to form words when his claws are playing with the edge of your panties, gracing over your wet pussy. “You were so good… You did great in all your classes and now you are graduating. Such a fucking good girl.”

He punctuates each word with a flick of his claw over your clit and you can barely breathe because of the pleasure. Your brain is swirling in desire, and you are getting wetter and wetter to the point you can hear every movement he makes against your pussy.

But he’s not done. “And you are going to be better for me, aren’t you? You are going to be a perfect good girl and you are going to part your legs further…” You comply and he does a rapid work pushing two fingers inside your tight heat, making you moan. “Yeah, just like that. I’m going to fill you up and you are going to walk that stage knowing who owns this pussy. Aren’t you? You want that, I can feel your pussy clenching around my fingers, little human. You love the thought of walking with my come leaking down your thighs, you’re so dirty… But I love it. I love how dirty you are and how hot you get when you are full of my come.”

Your breathing is labored and he pushes your panties to the side. The second the tip of his dick presses against your warm opening your are whimpering his name as a plea. He chuckles and pushes inside in one long thrust, sending your hips crashing against the wall, making everything more intense.

He sets up a fast pace, but that doesn’t stop him from talking: “And if you are good, if you are reaaaally good… You’ll earn a prize. Do you want a prize?” You nod, but he’s way ahead of you: “You don’t need it, do you? You are happy jut being a good girl for me.” You whimper really loud, ashamed that somebody could hear but way too worked up to care.

“Yes,” it sounds like a broken plea and he chuckles.

“What a dirty little girl. When you are finished, and they give you the diploma, with my come leaking down your legs, I’m going to push your legs over my shoulders and I’m going to pump you full again. Over and over until you are leaking and sore… Just to do it all over again. Once you walk that stage, you are mine for the weekend, and I pretend to have every one of your holes filled all weekend long…” He never stops his thrusting, whispering filthy things against your ear as he fucks into you.

You can’t even process all he says, you are just nodding and moaning, pushing your ass back against him to try get him deeper. When his claw starts toying with your clit, you know there’s no coming back, you are too close, too fast…

You try to warn him, but he only chuckles at your pathetic whimpers, thrusting harder and pinching your clit between his fingers until you are screaming his name and he’s joining you in pleasure with a hard thrust that makes you see stars as he fills you to the brim.

“Such a good girl, look at that…” He pulls your legs further apart, kneeling behind you and playing with your stretched hole, pushing his come back inside. “Fuck, the prettiest dripping pussy on the best fucking girl.” He kisses your pussy as if he’s saying goodbye and puts your panties back in place.

He helps you put your dress back to it’s place, kissing your forehead and telling you how proud he is one more time before he grabs your hand and walks you to the main area. His come pooling there and making you feel naughty and horny at the same time. With each step you take, it rubs against your still sensitive clit and you have to bite your lip not to moan out loud.

When they call your name, you walk to the stage with your legs pressed together, face flushed and come sticking to your clit. He spits fire into the air as a celebration, and a couple people around him scream. But he’s too busy screaming congratulations and cheering your name to care. It’s fucking perfect.

You walk off that stage with his come sticky between your legs and a huge smile on your face, the promise of a good weekend ahead.

[defmaybe]

Lessons in PHP

12 Days of Christmas: Day 4, December 28th, 2024

Girl’s Generation/SNSD’s Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader

2k words

Christmas Masterlist

The clicking sounds of keyboards ring through the room. Students are doing their in-class assignments, while you’re struggling to solve the first problem on the sheet. How the fuck can your friends do this?

Fuck, this is hard. Your code repairs seem fruitless against the errors, so you raise your hand, hoping that one of the TAs will help you.

You look around, seeking for help, until you meet one of your TAs’ eyes.

Kim Taeyeon.

Fuck.

No, you’re not scared or intimidated by her, you’re just always perplexed by her otherworldly features. There are her sharp eyes, her perfectly sculpted nose, and that jawline that makes you almost drool. Every time she helps you with your code, you’re just unable to focus on the material because of the intoxicating perfume she wears. It’s as if she knows that it’s your weak point.

Taeyeon walks towards you with purpose, every step is confident. Her short skirt and tie sways with the movement. She looks straight at you, expressionless, until she reaches your desk.

“So.” Taeyeon starts the troubleshooting session. “What do we have here?”

“I–I can’t add the new values into the table, M–Miss Kim.”

She nods. “Okay, can you show it for me?”

You let the code work on itself, before typing your information into the boxes, press submit, and–

“Voila,” you mutter quietly. It doesn’t work. She seems to be amused by your attempt at cracking a joke.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

Despite her efforts, her attempts are also proven fruitless. The code just doesn’t seem to work how hard she tries, and you can feel that it’s starting to get on her nerves.

“I can just ask an AI for this, Miss Kim.”

She shoots you a surprised look. “AI? Yah! You won’t learn that way! Just–meet me after the class, alright? I’ll help you.”

“O–Okay, Miss Kim.” You’ll be late for lunch again.

—

The students are starting to leave the seats one by one, having finished their in-class assignment early. Then, there’s you, trying to fix your damn code, trying to learn. Still, it just won’t budge.

“Fuck.”

Finally, the bell rings. You pick up your laptop and walk towards Taeyeon, hoping to find some relief in her. She nods at you. 

“I’ll be there,” she says. She’s still helping Haewon with her code.

—

Taeyeon starts her debugging session. It’s particularly hard on PHP, because it won’t tell you where the mistake is. Fucking PHP.

As time goes by, you’re surprised that Taeyeon doesn’t seem to become stressed with the failed attempts. Hell, she even seems to be happier and happier, humming as she debugs the code! What is going on?

“You know, I think this is a delightful session–” she moves closer towards you. Her right arm touches yours, hands still on your keyboard “–we’re having.”

Her perfume fills your nostrils. It pervades your space violently. You’re starting to get hypnotized by it. Fuck, she smells good.

She moves in a little closer. Her hips press into yours. You can feel her body heat against your side. She types in a few letters. You hope it can finally make your code run. She reloads the page, dragging her fingers along your keyboard lazily before submitting the credentials.

“Whoops, seems like it doesn’t work~” says Taeyeon. There’s something in her voice, but back to your laptop first. Why won’t it work, and why does she sound so–

“Looks like we’re missing a few more things here.” She scoots her chair closer to you. It’s so uncomfortable, yet you don’t want to move away from her.

You’re revelling in this.

You watch as she types more letters into your screen—enter, shift, echo. She does it so elegantly, contradicting what every computer job is supposed to be.

She reloads the page again, typing in the information languidly. It’s as if she doesn’t want this to end.

It still doesn’t show up.

She shrugs, sighing at the disappointment on your screen. “Guess I’ll try again,” she says with a small smile.

You are starting to get restless. Her perfume is still invading your nostrils like crazy. You want to go to lunch so fucking bad, but you also don’t want to leave this smell of sensuality circling around her.

“Miss Kim, I–It’s fine, I’ll just–”

“No,” she commands, her voice stern. You jump slightly as she says that. “I won’t let my student go out of this room learning nothing.”

She presses into you even more. It’s starting to hurt now, yet you don’t have any intent to walk away from her, not when she smells so fucking good like this.

You hear a soft giggle from her. Is she enjoying the way she’s getting this close to you like this?

You scoot away from her a little, giving you and her some much-needed space. You can hear her sigh. Is it out of disappointment?

“Are you okay, M–Miss Kim?” you just have to ask. Can’t let your TA be uncomfortable after all.

She giggles. “Oh, I’m fine~ and please drop that name, mister,” she says with sultry. Her fingers draw an invisible line over your arm, hovering over it. Still, it makes you shiver.

“I like something more–” her hands are hovering on your shoulder now, and she’s pulling you in closer and closer, as if you’re magnetized “–intimate.”

Your breathing becomes shaky. Your hands tremble. Her scent becomes stronger and stronger as seconds go by. You’re lost in her.

“Wh–What’s more i–intimate, Miss Kim.”

She giggles, leaning in closer. Her breath touches your ear softly, and she whispers, “Call me mommy.”

You swallow hard. Being dominated by your TA isn’t exactly what you’ve been expecting today.

Her hands start to grope your pliant body. You respond to her touch strongly, sucking a sudden. She drags her hands down the front and back simultaneously, fully capturing you in her cage.

“Look at you, so–willing,” she says, letting out a giggle after. She reaches for your belt now, and she slowly unbuckles it adeptly. It comes off so easily, leaving you bare, unguarded. She then unbuttons your trousers. The edge of your boxers comes into view.

“Mommy will take your pants off, alright?” asks Taeyeon. You can only gulp and nod.

She pulls your zipper down gently, slowly revealing the tent under your boxers. Her eyes gleam, letting out a giggle.

“Ooh~ so excited for mommy, huh?”

You say nothing but a whimper. Your body quivers in unbridled anxiety, apprehensive of disappointing her. The tension is high. Taeyeon starts to grope your erection through the boxers, making your body quiver in pleasure.

She then climbs onto your lap, and your breath hitches. Your crotch makes contact with the wet spot on her panties. You can feel it. She’s wet.

She smiles and starts to grind her wetness on your crotch. She lets out a hum, clearly satisfied with her student’s reaction. You’re desperate for the friction she’s giving you. Your breathing quickens. You’re struggling to contain a moan any longer. It’s sickly sweet.

Taeyeon rests her arms on your shoulders, pulling you closer into her embrace. You’re completely captured by her—her face, her smell, all of her, and you’re revelling in the way she’s doing it.

“Y–You smell so good, mommy,” you utter, enraptured within her pungent aroma. Your mouth opens slightly, hoping to lean in for a kiss.

She chuckles. “That’s J’adore for you, baby.”

Taeyeon then parts her lips, just slightly. She leans in until her hot breath touches yours. It mingles in the air between you two, thickening with desire.

At the first touch of your lips, you feel shockwaves coursing through you. Her tongue touches yours, and you get to feel the soft flesh inside her mouth. You get a hint of strawberries remaining on her lips. Maybe she was in a rush this morning.

As you clash into each other, her tongue starts to invade your mouth recklessly, as if she’s trying to take as much of you as possible. She lets out one sweet hum after another. Her hands are still gripping onto the back of your neck. Wet sounds of the kiss ring through your ear. The sensation on your crotch remains. She’s grinding against you adeptly. She’s good at this.

The kiss deepens. Her taste of strawberries becomes too intense for you to handle, but she won’t let you go. Her hands start to glide down your willing body again, feeling your soft skin and muscles. You let out moans and moans in response.

“M–Mommy,” you rasp, muffled into the kiss. Her grinds quicken, stealing breaths out of your lungs. You are overwhelmed by the sensation of her clothed sex on you.

Her thighs tense up, her breathing quickens. She’s going to cum from grinding on your cock, fully clothed.

She unlatches herself from the kiss, leaving a string of saliva connecting you together. “Now, fuck, mommy’s going to cum, alright? Mmmm.” She bites her lip after she finishes her words, sucking in the air through her teeth. Fuck, that looks so hot.

“Y–Yes, mommy,” you reply. Your high is also coming. “I–I’m gonna cum too.”

Taeyeon giggles before grinding on your cock even faster, drawing stuttered moans out of you. Your loins tighten. You’re going to cum inside your pants!

Good thing you wear rather dark-colored pants today.

Her breathing becomes shorter and shorter. Her grip on your neck tightens. Her moans grow louder and louder. She’s cumming, and you’re all here to see it happen.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum, ahh!”

Her body spasms on top of you. Her eyes flutter. Her mouth hangs open. She screams, loud. She just came from grinding on your lap alone, and that couldn’t make you happier. She lets out a groan as her orgasm subsides, threading her fingers through your hair.

“Good boy,” she says with a smile, pressing her red, pouty lips on your forehead. That’s going to leave a mark.

The all-too-familiar feeling builds up inside your stomach. It seeps through your lower body muscles. Your feet twitch. Your thighs stiffen. It’s there. It’s there.

“M-Mommy, I’m gonna cum,” you utter. 

She smiles back at you, planting another kiss on your cheek. You’ll have to wash your face before going to lunch.

“Cum for me, baby.”

You grunt loudly. Maybe someone could’ve heard that. Your body writhes in bliss. You can feel your cock twitching inside your pants. Cum leaks out from the tip and paints the insides of your pants white. Some of it seeps out through your pants. It feels so good.

A giggle leaves Taeyeon’s lips. She’s loving the way her student breaks under her like this. “Good boy, good boy.” She runs her fingers through your hair lovingly, making you whimper a little.

Your orgasm finally fades. You pant in exhaustion after the sensual act. Your hands are still shaking. You just cum from dry humping with your TA!

“You okay?” she asks. You’re probably looking disheveled right now, all panting, chest heaving. “You look–scattered.”

“Y–Yeah, mom–uh–Miss Kim,” you stammer out. Your mind is in haywire right now. Should you still call her mommy?”

Taeyeon chuckles at your apprehension. She seems satisfied with her student being a mess like this.

“Oh, and about the code,” she suddenly says, snapping you back into reality. “We might have to make an arrangement at a later date.”

You blink, trying to connect the pieces back together. You were struggling with PHP, so you asked Miss Kim to help you with that. However, you got a dry humping session instead. The code is still unfinished.

“Y–Yeah, the code,” you respond, giving her a shy smile. “An arrangement, sure.”

“Maybe–this Saturday? I don’t have classes on that day.”

“Sure, Miss Kim.”

She gives you a smile, satisfied with your answer, before climbing off your spent body. “That settles it, then.”

You smile back at her before getting off the chair–

Fuck, you forgot to put your pants back up. Taeyeon giggles softly at your predicament.

“Oh, and–be prepared,” she says.

“Yes, Miss Kim?”

“It’s going to be a long session.”

—

[iwashie]

𝐇𝐚𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 | 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝

🩸​ synopsis: At a party at the Hellsing mansion, you manage to satisfy your curiosity about the vampire that Integra keeps under lock and key.

🩸​ wc: + warnings: 5k- MDNI, NSFW content, f!reader, cunnilingus fingering, piv, crying, bites and marks, rough sex, breeding/creampie, 20+ characters. (also on ao3 and playlist )

Integra already had too many problems in her house, those fucking pigs demanding a party at her house, to have you, a successful woman and friend pestering her with your curiosity about the vampire she kept in the basement, for the safety of humans like you. You looked at her with your beady eyes shining, pouting and clasped your hands together, almost lying down on her desk.

She stared at you and sighed heavily, calling for a man who soon entered the room. “Take her to him and tell him not to break her. I want her back up here in one piece.”

The man nodded and you, alternating your gaze between the man and Integra, still surprised that she let you know her toy, hugged her and jumped out of the room before she changed her mind. You followed the tall man, probably a human, through the huge, endless corridors of the Hellsing mansion, both muted, just the clatter of your shoes against the stone floor and a few corner glances the man gave you as you two got lower and lower.

You were anxious. You felt your heart pounding in your throat and your sweaty hands trembling with each step you took, reaching the end of a dark corridor. The man stopped in front of a metal door and opened the various locks, opening the door and entering with you. You blinked a few times, trying to get used to the darkness of the place, just a small light illuminating a piece of that basement. You couldn’t see it, but something was there, the presence so strong in the air, pulling you deeper into the darkness.

“What do mere humans do here?” A loud and thick voice in a mocking tone echoed through the place, startling you, and suddenly a powerful light was present in the place, illuminating what seemed to be a room, a basement, and really a prison.

“Integra sent the human. She wants her whole up there and warned you not to break her.” The voice of the man behind you made you turn to see him walking away and closing the door, leaving you alone with the creature, laughing loudly.

You were alone with what would be the vampire of Integra; Now there was no turning back. All that was left for you to do was to continue until the end. You turned around again and saw the figure of a tall man in a red coat and hat, long black hair covering half of his face adorned by orange glasses and running down his shoulders, his hands crossed over his bent knees, the posture as if he were an emperor; The man smirked, showing his fangs, and you shivered, still amazed by the presence of that handsome man, a warmth spreading through your body along with the tingling and agitation of curiosity.

“What do you want down here in this beautiful, secluded basement next to a deadly creature while a safe, humane party takes place up there?” The voice echoed again through the stone walls, seeming to hit your entire body, making you vibrate from head to toe, still staring at that man. “Integra doesn’t send snacks...”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you saw the man’s smile widen as he lowered his head and stared at you over his glasses, reddish-orange eyes stuck on your figure. You swallowed hard and took a step forward, heading close to him; you knew that Integra’s pet would not attack without its owner’s orders. “Integra just let me solve my doubts about the vampire she keeps down here. That’s all...” You looked at the place, little decorated, just a coffin, the chair he occupied and a table with a bottle and glass filled with a strong red liquid, blood.

“No bed...” You whispered, approaching the coffin and inspecting the object. The man kept sitting in the same pose, letting you wander around his place, but you felt his eyes on you somehow.

The creature let out a laugh, making heat spread through your body as his deep voice sounded so close to your ear, making you turn around and see that he was still in the chair. “Vampires don’t sleep, human.”

“Never? Interesting, but this was already expected.” You said, walking back near him, your white dress swaying as you wandered around, stopping in front of the creature at a safe distance. “You don’t look like a vampire, you look like a normal three-five-year-old man...”

“And what exactly vampires should look like?” The man asked before bringing the glass to his lips and putting it back down without making a sound. You squinted at him, noticing that he was motionless, no sign of breathing. “Like deadly monsters showing their fangs to anyone and attacking all humans?"

You shrugged. “Maybe. Your reddened eyes prove you are not just any handsome man.” You noticed his eyes became redder and when he took his glasses out, showing them in full, you lost yourself in the intensity of the red, letting babbling escape. “Powers... Do you have powers?”

You heard the man laugh quietly and before you knew it, you were in the doorway, about to hit the metal. You startled, looking back at where you had been minutes before and now you were here. The man, still sitting, smiled and raised his gloved hands. “What do you think, human?” Before you could answer, the man got up and disappeared from your sight, appearing on your right side and disappeared as soon as you turned around, disappearing from the room completely.

“I recognize your smell, human. You were already countless times here in the mansion. You’re a friend of Integra, one of her few friends. I thank you for that, but you shouldn’t abuse her friendship or play detective with her pet. It can be dangerous, human.”

His voice echoed through the room, but he was nowhere to be found, making you run your eyes over the empty place, your breathing quickening and a mix of sensations growing inside you. You were alert when you heard him say the word you had thought of. Could he...?

“Oh yes. I read thoughts. I know exactly what you came down here to do.” You felt his voice in the back of your neck and turned around, finding nothing. The creature, showing itself to be really a vampire, fascinated you with that. It was amazing how he was all over the place, but he wasn’t. You were vibrating, your mind racing in a million thoughts. “I admit, you are a brave human and... very curious for a mere mortal.”

The creature was sitting back in the chair, and you approached in quick steps, pausing as you noticed the creepy, almost predatory smile on its lips. “Many say that I am not like other women. Integra also thinks so, so we are friends.” The creature nodded and didn’t take its reddened eyes away from you. Those eyes seemed to pull you closer, alternating your gaze between the vampire’s eyes and mouth.

“Alucard.” The man, Alucard, answered the question, asked inside your head. You pulled back a bit when you heard his voice echoing inside your head, answering several questions you had in the most animalistic way possible. He was amused by watching you widen your eyes and falter your steps when given detailed information about the taste of blood and how it killed and fed.

You swallowed, thinking about the question he asked inside your head. No, you wouldn’t give up now, right now that you were so close to solving your doubts about the creature.

Alucard laughed loudly and changed his position in the chair, his red eyes watching you intently, as if you were his prey. “You still don’t leave, do you?”

You nodded weakly, torn between approaching or staying at the distance you were possibly safe. You felt your body react strangely, your insides screamed to run out of that place, that that man in front of you could tear you apart in the blink of an eye, but that was electrifying, that fear coursing through your veins, your body trembling in alert and the form of a creature feared by all, capable of anything not humanly possible.... You were tempted to go all the way.

“My main doubt, Alucard, as you already know, is whether vampires have blood circulation or not, whether they can sustain an erection...” You began, letting the rest of the sentence die in the air, getting lost in the violent images that appeared in your mind; images of Alucard fighting and killing.

You got lost inside your own head, bothered by those images and the amount of blood that flooded your head. You came back to reality when you heard the loud laughter, trying to focus the blurry vision on the man standing in front of you, very close to you. You were no longer distant from him; you were too close, in front of the small table, stuck between him and the table. You saw him rise, his body covering yours as he took off his hat and lowered himself to the level of your face, making you cringe.

“I smell fear and... horniness.” Alucard pinned you against the small table, his arms caging you as he brought his face closer to yours. “Are you horny, human?”

You swallowed, squinting and trying to control your breathing, almost moaning when you heard his voice so close to your ear. “I don’t deny that the idea of knowing how you are-“

“Having sex with a vampire?” He corrected your speech, creating more space for him between your legs.

“Yeah, have sex with a vampire. With you, in this case, is extremely exciting.” You ended the sentence with a little sly smile, which did not go unnoticed by the vampire. You closed your eyes, throwing your head back when he brushed his nose against your neck.

“I can kill you...” He whispered against your warm skin, humming as he felt your pulse racing beneath his lips.

You sighed heavily, tilting your head to give him more space and feel the icy lips playing with your neck. “Still want you…”

Alucard laughed softly against your skin, the warm air chilling you and making your corset-breasted chest rise and fall quickly, drawing the attention of the bright red eyes as he pulled away from you.

“Humans really are such fascinating creatures.” The red eyes circled every corner of your face, searching for something other than the expression of pleasure mixed with longing, but he found nothing.

Alucard smiled widely, showing the row of white teeth and the pointed fangs that at any moment could carve your body open, and skirted your swollen lips with his gloved thumb, playing with you.

“Don’t forget that it was you who wished for this, dear.” Alucard hummed, still playing with your lips, and you nodded quickly, sliding the tip of your tongue down his finger. “Great. It’s been a long time since I’ve had such an interesting human companion.”

You had to rest your hands on the small table so as not to fall backwards when Alucard advanced on you, pinning your neck with one hand and with the other pulling your exposed thigh through the dress, squeezing the flesh with desire.

“Oh, my God..” You moaned heavily against his mouth, feeling electricity run through your body and focus in the middle of your spread legs to accommodate Alucard’s enormous figure.

“God, no, dear. Me.” Alucard kissed you in a hurry, pressing your lips to move the way he wanted and forcing his tongue in, earning a muffled moan as he explored your mouth and pulled you closer to him.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him on top of you; the two almost lying on the table as you kissed each other eagerly.

Alucard’s gloved hands explored your body, squeezing and scratching every corner of exposed skin for him to take advantage of and mark the way he wanted.

He let out a grumble when you bit and sucked on his lower lip, returning to kiss you with desire, feeling the strong taste of iron from the blood he had drunk earlier. Neither of you stopped the kiss, exploring each other’s mouths and tongues, swallowing saliva and muffled moans.

You moaned loudly against his mouth as you felt his bulge pressing against your intimacy, pressing your legs against his waist and rubbing against him. “Alucard...”

He smiled against your swollen lips and went down, tracing wet kisses down your neck until he reached the neckline of the dress, sucking a part of one of your breasts that went up and down quickly. You trapped a hand on his long, black strands, pressing him against the warm skin that was mistreated with bites and hickeys, making you moan and roll against his waist for more contact.

Alucard ran his hands around your body over the dress and kneaded your breasts, happy with the way they molded themselves in his caresses. He tore your dress, freeing your marked breasts and went back to delighting in you.

“Ngh... Alucard... slowly...” You grumbled, pulling his strands away from your sensitive body, but it was useless since he had much more strength and continued to suck one breast, rotating his large tongue through the areola and distributing bites throughout the region. “Alucard, please... Ah!”

Alucard moved away slightly, making you grumble at the lack of contact and half-open your eyes, finding him staring at you coldly with those red ruby eyes and his mouth glistening with saliva. He continued squeezing your breasts, admiring the teeth marks he left and moved closer to your face, brushing his nose against yours. “You asked for it, human.”

Those words, almost a threat, should make you want to run away, have extreme fear, but it only excited you more, sending horniness directly to your already wet pussy. You arched your back as you felt Alucard’s mouth back on your body, intensifying the bites and hickeys.

It was painful, and you writhed underneath him, grabbing and pulling what you could of him away, but you also wanted more of that feeling, rubbing against his pelvic and feeling the bulge forming. You moaned loudly, squeezing around nothing and feeling how wet you were.

Alucard stopped, satisfied with mistreating your breasts and pulled away to face you, almost lying over the table, red, panting and marked by him. He smiled sadistically and slid his hands through the folds of your dress, uttering a grumble as he found your thighs and caressed them.

You grunted as you felt his gloved hands rising near the place you needed Alucard most, and shuddered as he ran his thumbs lightly over your intimacy.

“You smell aroused, human...” He hummed, inhaling more of your scent near your neck and ran his tongue over the area while his hands remained under your dress, playing with the insides of your legs. “I wonder what your taste will be, human. Will it be as good as your sly moans calling me as you rub against me?”

You hang your head back, biting your lower lip as you felt his big toe pressing your clitoris over the fabric and rolling over for more sensation.

“So needy...” Alucard blew into your ear and laughed softly as you grabbed his arms and held back your moans. “Do you want me that much, human?”

You pulled your head away from his lips, fighting the urge to receive more caresses, and rested your head on your shoulders, staring at the red eyes that devoured you. You smiled languidly and even though you knew you were entering much more dangerous terrain, but couldn’t help it, you said, “Why don’t you find out how much I need you and what I taste like by eating me, huh?”

Alucard laughed out loud, incredulity and interest growing inside him, and showed his white teeth shining in the low light of the room, approached your mouth and whispered against it. “You don’t know the danger you’re in by not controlling this sassy human mouth.”

You were about to make another sassy comment, but Alucard’s large hands, held around your waist, pulled you sharply to the edge of the table, forcing you to lie down on the small surface while he lifted the layers of fabric until it exposed your bottom.

Alucard hissed at the sight of the thin, wet piece that covered your pussy. You felt embarrassed by the exposure and closed your legs, causing Alucard to click his tongue in disapproval and spread your legs again tightly, his gloved hands squeezing the soft insides.

“You’d better keep those legs wide open...” Alucard kept his bright red eyes locked in yours as he slowly took off your panties, sliding his hands down the sides of your thighs. The white fangs shone in the crooked smile that formed when he saw your pussy waiting to receive his attention.

You heard your heart pounding in your ears, and Alucard listened too, utterly glad that he was the reason you were so nervous; scared and horny simultaneously. The way your warm blood ran through your veins made Alucard control himself so as not to get into trouble for Integra.

“Alucard...” You drove your head back, squeezing your fingers on the edge of the table as he ran two gloved fingers through your folds, opening them up and spreading your liquid all over your pussy. Your quickening breathing and muffled mumbling escaped as he increased the caress, circling your bud with his thumb and two fingers at your entrance. “Alu-Ngh!”

Alucard laughed out loud as he felt you squeezing the tips of both fingers inside you, trying to get more of those long, nimble fingers. He withdrew his fingers and moved his hand up towards your mouth. It took you a while to understand what he wanted, but you bit the tip of the glove, holding it and he pulled his hand out, showing the large hand marked at the top; You wanted to know what that symbol was, but he probably wouldn’t tell.

You saw Alucard kneel, his hands clasping your legs apart, closing in on your pussy, throbbing and dripping wet for attention. “Keep your legs open and make good use of this little mouth, human. No one will listen to you here....”

That feeling of dread ran down your spine, stopping at the base of your back and dissolved into a loud moan as you felt Alucard breathing against your pussy and his tongue licking from bottom to top, circling and sucking your clit in slow movements, repeating the action all again.

“Ah! Alu-Ngh!” You shuddered as you felt him bury his face in you, the tip of his nose brushing against your clit as he stuck his long tongue inside you, working in quick back-and-forth motions. “Alucard! Oh! Fuck... Ah!”

Alucard smiled and rubbed his face against your wet pussy, diving two fingers inside you and working them together with his tongue, making you grab the table with one hand and bring the other to his black strands, pulling his face against you as you rolled on his face, increasing the pleasure.

Your loud moans echoed in the small room along with the wet noises of Alucard’s mouth sucking and licking your pussy, moaning against you, adding sensations to the pleasure you felt.

“Alucard... Oh! I... Ngh...” You squeezed your legs around his head, feeling that you were close to cumming in his mouth, which swallowed your liquid with pleasure, but he stopped sucking you at the same moment he parted your legs with force.

You grumbled in protest, panting and red, your spread legs shaking under his grip and your pussy gushing liquid that ran down your ass and dirtying the table as much as you smeared his shiny face.

“Splendid, human.” His hoarse voice echoed, and you shivered, trying to keep your eyes open to appreciate the figure of the vampire approaching. “As tasty as blood. Perfect.”

He brushed his moist lips with your liquid against yours and pulled away before you kissed him, following behind his lips, being stopped by the hand on your throat, squeezing lightly.

“Alucard, please...” You whispered with your eyes closed, feeling the pressure of his hand on your throat and his waist rubbing against you, the bulge of his pants fitted to your pussy, sending pleasure all over your body. “Please...”

“Hmm?” Alucard had fun with you, driving you crazy just to hear you beg. “Please, what human?”

You grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails into the thick red coat and rolled against him, synchronizing the waist movements. “I need you...”

“Use your mouth decently, human.” You went up one hand to his cheek, caressing the cold skin and slid the other into the bulge of his pants, squeezing and rubbing, making him suck his breath.

“I want you to fuck me, Alucard.” You saw the flaming ruby red eyes and the sadistic smile widening.

“Your wish is my command.” Alucard unzipped and his hurried hands slid down the pants he was wearing, unleashing what you wanted so much.

You stopped for a while, amazed at that; a big hard cock of a vampire. You alternated your gaze between Alucard’s cock and eyes, not knowing what to do with the information.

“Why so surprised? Isn’t that what you wanted, human?” Alucard took your hand and took it to his own cock. “You can play it at will.”

You looked at him and his cock, moistening your lips and started masturbating him, feeling the weight, the softness and the warmth. You had so many questions simultaneously that you wanted that enormous cock inside your mouth, inside you fucking you.

“Are you not dead?” Alucard laughed out loud, the laughter vibrating inside him and on the walls of that room. You looked up, still working your hands on the hot, throbbing cock. “How is it possible?”

“Don’t worry that little head too much, human.” Alucard now understood why Integra let you wander around his room; You were just as curious as she was at the beginning of their alliance. You really were a very curious friend.

“I’m dead. I’ve died three times, but I’m not completely dead...” Alucard fit in between your legs, making you rub his cock in your pussy, both moaning with the sensation. You fitted the head of his cock to your entrance and intertwined your legs around his waist when you felt the tightness of his gigantic hands on your waist and his voice in your ear. “I’ll show you how dead I am.”

You moaned loudly, hanging your head back, your hands squeezing Alucard’s shoulders, feeling his big, thick cock making room inside your hot, small insides. You felt him spreading through your body, your stomach tightening as he settled completely inside you. You blinked bewildered, your open mouth stammering, drawing a laugh from Alucard, who was waiting for you to get used to it.

“Alucard... You are so big.. hot...” You sighed against his face, feeling Alucard heavy, hot, big inside you, shaping your pussy into the shape of his monster cock. “You’re so alive...”

Alucard let out a sneer, pulling you by the waist until he pressed you against him, going deeper inside you, making you moan, squinting in pleasure. “You don’t know how much, human...”

Alucard moved calmly, dragging his cock out and inside you, feeling every spasm of your pussy, squeezing and sucking him, wanting more than he was giving you. You whimpered, pressing against him, feeling empty every time he left and completely full when he entered, opening you in the middle and crawling through your gummy walls until you reached your cervix, making you sob the moan.

“Alucard... More... I want more...” You sighed softly, barely feeling your strength as he played with you, testing how far you could take in that mess, feeling him filling you to the last.

“I’ve barely begun to appreciate you, human.” Alucard mocked you, and even with your eyes closed, you knew he smiled. He was controlling himself not to increase the pace, thrusting deep inside you, taking out every kind of sound and reaction that your human body could make to feed his animalistic side. You had no idea how much he wanted to fuck you like an animal, put you on all fours and thrust his cock hard and fast, going deeper and deeper inside you, molding your pussy into his shape for you to never forget. “You have no idea how long I haven’t felt a human warmth squeezing me, molding itself around me, moaning my name, and delighting themselves with my fuck...”

“I’m going to enjoy every second of this, human.” Alucard’s voice and laughter echoed in your head with the wet noises of your pussy swallowing his cock and the moans you both let out for some time. You couldn’t remember how many times Alucard had you in that, begging him to go faster and deeper as you were close to cumming and felt his lips on every part of your body, but he would stop when you were near the apex and start all over again, going slower and slower.

“Alucard... Ngh... Ah...” Your voice came out hoarse and flawed, barely able to keep up with the immense pleasure your body felt when Alucard was fucking you slowly, widening your soaked pussy and playing with your swollen clitoris, both red and begging for relief. You felt Alucard enjoying every reaction you had, his body shaking as you melted into pleasure and whimpering, completely messed up by him. “Alu-Ah.. Alucard... Please...”

Alucard brought his face closer to yours, rubbing himself against your sweaty red skin, slowly going in and out of you, almost falling off the table, and held your waist forcing you to feel him pulsing inside you, his cock getting heavier and heavier and inside you, seeming to consume himself with you. “Hmm? What did you say, human?”

You shuddered as you felt Alucard’s tongue licking from your throat to your mouth, forcing his long tongue into the cavity and exploring it, savoring your moans and the salty taste of tears streaming down your rosy cheeks. You grabbed the back of his head, pulling the long black strands and kissed him with the same intensity, as if you were bewitched by that vampire, awakening from the deep stupor that was minutes ago and rubbing against him, going at the pace you so badly needed.

You were panting when you parted, noticing that the vampire didn’t need air as much as you did. He could go on for hours and have you completely destroyed... You shivered and involuntarily squeezed Alucard’s cock when you finally assimilated the words he had spoken long ago before he started that. Having those flaming ruby eyes focused fully on you as Alucard’s smile grew, feeding on the fear that settled inside you.

“What did you want, human?” Alucard’s thick voice echoed throughout the room, making you tremble more and you felt helpless, small and humanly fragile in front of the immense vampire on top of you. “What’s wrong? Did the cat eat your tongue, or did you finally realize the situation you’re in?”

You were panting, your exposed and marked chest rising and falling rapidly, your hands trembling on the vampire’s body, who was amused by the growing fear inside you. You were sure that the color of his eyes was more vivid than when you entered that room, just like when he gave you a brief sample of his powers.... Alucard was using his powers on you.

You swallowed, throat trembling as much as the rest of you, drawing Alucard’s watchful eyes to the region, watching him take a deep breath as he smiled more... almost like an animal. You took a deep breath and brought your trembling hands to the vampire’s cold chin, squeezing and bringing him closer to you. You were so scared of everything here, but the incredible feeling of having Alucard inside you, pulsing as hot and alive as you, was greater than the desire to give up, screaming for help. “Don’t use your powers on me, vampire. I know very well what I want.” Alucard raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by you and waiting for your response.

“I want you to let me cum with your cock inside me and cum too, filling me to the brim...” You ran your eyes over the vampire’s expressionless face. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for the vampire’s reaction.

Alucard smiled widely, his eyes softening, returning to the red of before, his face seeming to glow as if it were an angel in your grip. “As you wish, human...” He whispered in your ear, slowly pulling away and slid out of you, making you sigh heavily and squeeze around nothing, all your liquid running down your red, swollen pussy, missing Alucard’s big, thick cock.

He slid you off the table calmly and gently, still smiling in that angelic way, and turned you with your back to him, his figure standing out as he slid his hands down your sides and stopped at your waist with a firm grip. You were anxious, feeling his hands pull the fabric up, exposing your ass and trembling legs.

He was so calm as he took off your sweaty dress; the piece ending up in some corner of the dark room, and lined up back in your entrance, pinning you against his stone body, running his hands up your body and cradling your breasts as rubbed his face against your neck. You clasped your hands on the edge of the table, waiting nervously for his actions, his calmness making you more frightened than when he looked like an animal.

You held your breath as you felt him inhale your scent and shivered at his words. “Don’t break, human. Integra wants you back up there.” You froze as you listened to his words, remembering them coming out of Integra’s mouth and the man who brought you here.

Alucard penetrated you hard, taking your breath out and pushing you against the table, going in and out of you the way you begged so much before having you squint and open your mouth, calling loudly for the vampire, who smiled sadistically again. One hand of Alucard’s went up to your neck, tilting your head to the side and lightly squeezing the region and the other slid into your belly, pressing where the head of his cock appeared on your belly, making you moan sly and wince in his grip.

“Do you feel me here?” He pressed more on your belly, making you roll your eyes in pleasure and soften against him, feeling his cock going deep and hitting all the points that made you see stars and squeeze around him. “Oh, honey, you don’t know how good you are, squeezing me like that and melting with my touches... Your blood boiling in your veins, so inviting...” Alucard rubbed his nose on your neck, giving a wet kiss to the region.

You could barely register what he said, lost in the pleasure that flooded your body with the deep and quick thrusts, making your stomach turn and you whimper loudly, wanting much more. “Alucard.. Ngh! Ah! Alu-Ah!” You wrapped a hand around his hand on your belly, digging your nails into the cold skin, feeling your legs tremble as that warmth in your belly tightened.

“Alucard, I’m going-Ngh! I...” Alucard grumbled against your neck, still going in and out of you hard and fast, having you jump into his arms. “I’m going to cum... please... Alucard...!”

His bottle and glass of blood fell off the table, breaking as it shattered on the floor as soon as you were bent on top of the hard surface, standing on tiptoe to keep up with the rhythm of Alucard’s thrusts, hitting deeper and deeper, pushing you to the limit of the pleasure you felt. You swayed by the small table with Alucard’s brutality inside you, scratching at the wood while squinting and mumbling a few words and moans, tightening tighter and tighter around him, trying to trap the cock inside you.

Alucard laughed loudly, feeling you squeezing and sucking him more and more, your thighs shaking violently and little toes curling. “Greedy...”

“Alucard... Alucard, please...” You gasped in a moan as you felt his hand on your clit, playing with the nerve at the same intensity he thrusted into you, making you scream and cum on his cock, your liquid gushing between his thrusts, dirtying his cock and clothes.

“That’s right. Good girl, cum on my cock.” Alucard’s calm, sultry voice guided you through your orgasm while he was still playing with your body, overstimulating you; your body barely holding on. Alucard slid a hand up on your back, shivering you, and tangled in your messy strands, pulling your head and spine back up. He leaned up to your ear and whispered, “Pussy so good... I’m going to fuck this pussy until I fill you with my cum. Do you want me to fill you with my cum, human?”

You nodded as you could, tired, overstimulated and eager to have the reason that took you to that basement and let yourself be fucked by that creature. You, still curious and barely formulating thoughts and sentences, babbled one of your countless doubts about the vampire. “Can you-Ngh! Ah, fuck… Get someone pregnant... Oh! Alucard!”

Alucard raised an eyebrow, surprised by your questioning because he really didn’t know, had never tried this. His sadistic smile widened, showing the row of pointed teeth, and continued to move in that animal rhythm, almost making you pass out. “Why don’t we figure this out together now?”

Alucard scraped the fangs on your neck, taking out a trickle of blood and licked the liquid, delighting in the taste and came inside you after a deep thrust, lost in pleasure, almost reaching the kingdom of heaven that was forbidden to him in the first life, having you folded for him on the table and moaning loudly, shivering and filled with the hot liquid flowing inside your pussy. He let go of you like a doll and came out of you, watching you shudder violently and his thick cum leak out of your hole, run down your thighs, the table and dripping on the floor.

Alucard whistled loudly and smiled when he saw the scene, completely satisfied with what he had done.

You blinked strongly, trying to stay awake and normalize your breathing, feeling your whole body on fire and throb in pain. You felt Alucard’s hands lifting you carefully and turning you towards him, the ruby red eyes flaming as he brushed off the hair stuck to your face by sweat and caressed your face with his long cold fingers, you smiled minimally at him, letting yourself soften in the vampire’s embrace, which remained impeccable.

You saw him pull his pants down to his ankles and sit in his chair, pulling you by the hand to the middle of his legs, kneeling in front of him, noticing his still hard, throbbing and dirty cock at the base with your cum. You looked up at the vampire’s face, seeing him smile sadistically and bring you closer to his cock with one hand and the back of your neck. “Our party only ends when I say so, human.”

@iwashie 2024, please do not translate, modify or republish my works

[calypso-rt]

01 | acts of service

| one | | two | | three | | four | | five |

and how Rafe shows it

-> Rafe x F!Reader

Rafe Notices Things

The morning air is crisp, the kind that makes you want to curl back into bed and forget responsibilities exist. But life doesn’t work that way, so here you are: half-asleep, wrapped in a hoodie, trudging toward your car with coffee in one hand and your bag slipping off your shoulder.

You slide into the driver’s seat with a sigh, reaching for your keys. The second you turn the ignition, your brain finally registers something is off.

The gas tank.

It’s full.

That’s impossible.

You distinctly remember last night: running late, exhausted, and fully intending to stop for gas but ultimately deciding, Eh, future me will deal with it. Well, future you is here, and somehow… the problem is already solved.

Your eyebrows furrow as you pull out your phone. You definitely didn’t fill up the tank. There’s only one person who could have.

You: You filled my gas tank?

The three dots pop up immediately.

Rafe: You run on fumes. Got tired of watching.

You roll your eyes, even as something warm unfurls in your chest.

You: You’re so dramatic. Rafe: You’re so irresponsible.

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile. Before you can reply, another text comes through.

Rafe: Check the glove compartment.

You do, confused, until your fingers brush against something small and familiar. Pulling it out, you find a pack of your favorite gum, a brand you only ever remember to buy after you’ve already run out.

Your heart does a weird little flip.

You: Are you stalking me? Rafe: If I was, I’d be charging you for all these services, sweetheart.

You huff, tucking the gum into your pocket.

You: Thanks, I guess.

You can feel his smirk through the phone.

You: Just don’t make this a habit, Cameron. Rafe: Too late.

You shake your head, start your car, and drive off. And even though you won’t say it, you spend the entire ride smiling.

Because maybe, you kind of like it.

...

Rafe the Protector

The festival is insane.

It had been fine at first: the air buzzing with energy, music thrumming through the ground, neon lights painting the night in a kaleidoscope of color. You’d been laughing, drink in hand, caught up in the electric joy of it all.

But then, somewhere between one act ending and another beginning, the crowd shifted.

People pushed in from all sides, bodies jostling, voices blending into an overwhelming roar. You lost track of where you were, of where anyone was. One second, Rafe had been right beside you, and the next...

He’s gone.

Your chest tightens.

You don’t panic easily. You don’t do helpless. But right now, all you can see is a sea of strangers, pressing in too close, blocking every path, and—

A hand wraps firmly around your wrist.

You flinch, but before the fear can fully hit, a voice cuts through the noise.

“Hey, hey—got you.”

Rafe.

The relief is instant, crashing over you like a wave. He’s there, standing solid and steady in front of you, his grip grounding, reassuring.

“I—” Your voice falters. You hadn’t realized just how hard your heart was pounding until now.

He doesn’t let go. Instead, he shifts closer, his other hand pressing lightly against your back, guiding you in. “You okay?” His voice is low, only meant for you.

You nod quickly, swallowing against the tightness in your throat. “Yeah, I just—”

“Got caught up.” He finishes for you, watching you closely. “I know.”

The crowd surges again, another rush of bodies pushing past. Instinctively, you grab onto him this time. Rafe doesn’t hesitate. His arm slides fully around you, pulling you in against him, a barrier between you and the chaos.

“We’re getting out of here,” he says, tone leaving no room for argument.

You let him lead.

He doesn’t shove or fight his way through, just moves with quiet confidence, navigating the crowd effortlessly. And the whole time, he doesn’t let go.

Not even when you’re finally in the clear, standing at the edge of the festival grounds where the air is easier to breathe.

Not even when you should let go, when the moment has passed.

Instead, he looks down at you, brows slightly furrowed. “You good now?”

You exhale, nodding. “Yeah. Thanks.”

His thumb brushes absently over the back of your hand before he finally, reluctantly, lets go.

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters, like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he didn’t just anchor you when you needed it most.

You don’t mention it.

But later that night, long after the festival has ended, you’ll still remember the feeling of his hand in yours.

...

Rafe the Caretaker

It starts with a knock.

A sharp, insistent knock that makes you groan because moving right now feels impossible. You’re bundled under a mountain of blankets, head throbbing, nose stuffed, body aching in that feverish way that makes everything miserable.

You ignore it.

But then, the door opens anyway.

“Seriously?” Your voice is hoarse, but it’s all the protest you can manage as Rafe strides in, arms full of stuff.

“Did you think I wasn’t gonna show up?” He kicks the door shut behind him, setting his haul down on your nightstand.

You blink at the pile: medicine, soup from that overpriced deli he likes, some kind of fancy tea that looks like it belongs in a wellness spa. There’s even a bottle of Gatorade, your favorite flavor.

You sniffle. “How did you even know I was sick?”

Rafe rolls his eyes, tugging off his jacket. “You think I don’t notice when you don’t text me back?”

You had gone suspiciously radio silent, but still. “That doesn’t mean you had to—”

“Yes, it does,” he interrupts, giving you a pointed look. “Because you suck at taking care of yourself.”

You scowl. “I do not.”

“You do,” he counters easily, already unpacking the medicine. “And now, I’m in charge.”

You open your mouth to argue, but it’s useless. Rafe’s already grabbed the thermometer, tapping the end of it checking if it works.

“Open up.”

You glare. “I’m not a child.”

“You’re sick.” His expression is flat, but there’s something undeniably soft about it. Like even if he’s being bossy about it, he actually cares.

You grumble but let him take your temperature anyway.

When he sees the number, he mutters something under his breath—probably cursing you for not calling him sooner—before reaching for the cold medicine.

“You’re taking this.” He hands you the dose. “Then drinking all of that tea.”

You eye the steaming cup warily. “That looks disgusting.”

“Yeah, well, deal with it.” He shoves the cup into your hands, then grabs the extra blanket from the chair and drapes it over you.

You blink up at him. “Are you tucking me in right now?”

Rafe scoffs. “Shut up.” But he still pulls the blanket snug around your shoulders, knuckles grazing your cheek as he checks your forehead.

His hand is warm. Gentle. You lean into it without thinking.

Rafe stills for half a second, then just shakes his head, muttering, “Pathetic.” But his voice is softer than before.

He stays.

Puts on some terrible daytime TV. Grumbles about your taste in shows. Forces you to eat the soup even when you insist you’re not hungry.

And at some point, when you’re drifting in and out of sleep, you feel the weight of him settle beside you on the bed, his arm slung over the back of your pillows like he belongs there.

“You better not get sick,” you mumble, voice thick with exhaustion.

Rafe huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, yeah.”

But he doesn’t move.

And when you wake up later, still feverish but a little less miserable, he’s still there, fast asleep, head tilted back against the headboard.

As if taking care of you was the most natural thing in the world.

...

When it Really Matters

It’s one of those days.

The kind where everything is too much. Where your brain feels like it’s short-circuiting from exhaustion, stress pressing into your ribs like a vice. You’re running on fumes, eyes stinging from holding back frustrated tears, and the idea of dealing with one more thing makes your stomach churn.

So you don’t text him.

You don’t call.

You just sit there, curled up in the dim light of your apartment, staring blankly at the pile of unfinished work on your desk, the notifications stacking up on your phone, the way your hands shake just a little from how tense you are.

Then there’s a knock.

A familiar one. Steady. Insistent.

You don’t answer, but the door opens anyway.

And there he is.

Rafe takes one look at you and his whole expression shifts. The teasing, the smug confidence, all of it softens into something quieter. Something only you get to see.

He doesn’t say anything.

He just sets a takeout bag on the table, tosses your phone onto the couch to silence the endless buzzing, and then crouches down in front of you.

“You ate today?”

You try to lie, but your silence gives you away.

Rafe exhales through his nose, shaking his head, but he doesn’t scold you. Doesn’t tease. He just grabs the takeout bag, pulls out the food, and sets it in front of you like it’s not up for debate.

“I’m not hungry,” you murmur.

Rafe doesn’t even blink. “Don’t care.”

Your lip wobbles. You hate that it wobbles.

His brows pinch together, and then he’s shifting forward, arms hooking under your knees and around your back before you can protest.

“Rafe—”

“Shh.” He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you over to the couch and settling you in his lap, wrapping you up in his arms like it’s second nature. Like he’s done this before.

And you don’t even fight it.

You should. Should push him away, should pretend you don’t need this. Shouldn’t let yourself sink into him like he’s the only thing keeping you from unraveling.

But you do.

You fist your hands in his shirt, bury your face in the crook of his neck.

And he just holds you.

One hand rubs slow, soothing circles on your back. The other tucks into your hair, fingertips pressing into your scalp in a way that makes you melt.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he murmurs, voice low and steady. “Just breathe, alright?”

You inhale. Shaky, uneven.

Rafe’s arms tighten.

And for the first time all day, you finally exhale.

...

Realizing this is Love

It sneaks up on you.

Not in some grand, sweeping declaration. Not in the way you’ve always imagined love would feel.

No.

It happens in the little things.

Like now.

You’re sitting on Rafe’s couch, bundled up in one of his hoodies, the sleeves swallowing your hands as you watch him move around the kitchen. He’s grumbling under his breath, muttering something about how you never stock anything useful in your fridge, rummaging through the cabinets like he owns the place.

It’s nothing new.

Rafe has a habit of doing things without being asked: grabbing your keys when you forget them, keeping a water bottle in his car because he knows you never bring one, making sure you actually eat even when you insist you’re fine.

And it’s so effortless. So casual.

But tonight, something about it hits differently.

Because this isn’t just him being overprotective. This isn’t just him being stubborn or bossy or playing some game.

This is just… him.

And it always has been.

The realization settles in your chest like a slow, warm ache.

Rafe comes back with a plate, nothing fancy, just toast with the exact amount of butter you like, because of course he knows that. He sets it on the coffee table and flops down next to you, throwing an arm over the back of the couch.

“Eat,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You don’t move. Just watch him.

He frowns. “What?”

You shake your head, lips pressing together, heart pounding at the weight of what’s suddenly sitting between you.

“Nothing,” you murmur.

His eyes narrow slightly. “You’re being weird.”

“You’re always weird,” you counter.

Rafe snorts, rolling his eyes, but there’s a flicker of something behind them, like maybe he feels it too. Like maybe he knows what you aren’t saying.

You could say it.

Could lean in, cup his face, tell him what you just realized.

But instead, you reach for the toast.

You take a bite.

Rafe watches you, something unreadable in his expression, but then he just shakes his head and looks away, like he knows this is something you’re not ready to say out loud yet.

And somehow, that just makes it even more real.

[txrully]

hii can I request blue lock boys comforting their s/o thats on her period? (if your uncomfy w this than jst ignore it)

Thank you! 💕💕

YOU'RE MY COMFORT!

·˚ ༘ ꒱ summary when they comfort their s/o who's on her period

·˚ ༘ ꒱ characters isagi yoichi , bachira meguru , itoshi rin , nagi seishiro , mikage reo , chigiri hyoma , hiori yo , shidou ryusei , itoshi sae , michael kaiser , alexis ness

·˚ ༘ ꒱ warning fem!reader implied , lowercase intended

·˚ ༘ ꒱ a/n eeeek i took a kinda long hiatus after exams so sorry this was late- TT

·˚ ༘ ꒱ isagi yoichi

isagi would be so sweettttt. like he’s 100% the type to google how to make your girlfriend feel better on her period and then go overboard. he shows up at your door with snacks, a hot water bottle, and a look of absolute determination.

“babe, i got chocolate, tea, and this random teddy bear i found. will that help??”

he also tries to distract you with soccer highlights and ends up ranting about strategy while you just cuddle into him. lwk adorable.

"yoichi, i don’t need all this, i’m fine—"

"nope. it’s my job to make sure you’re 100% okay!"

"…you’re too much."

"too much in love with you? absolutely."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ bachira meguru

bachira treats your period like it’s an adventure. he calls it “battle week” and declares himself your knight in shining armor. he’s running around like a maniac, making you laugh so hard you forget the pain.

he also makes you random art to cheer you up. one time, he drew a stick figure comic of you fighting a “period dragon” with a sword made of chocolate. you almost cried laughing.

"meguru, what is this??"

"you slaying your period. literally."

"you’re so dumb… but i love it."

"mission accomplished!!!!! >:D "

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi rin

rin is… awkward. but he triessss. when you first tell him, he just blinks and goes, "okay. what do you need?" and when you say “nothing,” he goes into silent problem-solving mode.

he might not say much, but he’ll keep you company, bring you your favorite drinks, and make sure you’re comfortable. he’s like a walking checklist. it’s so sweet how seriously he takes it.

"rin, you don’t have to—"

"you said you have a headache, so i’m staying until it stops."

"you’re so stubborn-"

"you’re welcome."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ nagi seishiro

nagi is… so chill. you tell him you’re on your period, and he’s like, "oh. okay. do you wanna nap?" because in his mind, that fixes everything.

but the second you actually need something? he’s ( surprisingly ) up and moving faster than you thought possible. he’ll even let you steal his hoodie and hog all the blankets.

"sei, can you pass me the—"

"already got it. now come back to bed."

"why are you so good at this???"

"because i'm used to this by now."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ mikage reo

reo treats it like a high-stakes situation. he buys you EVERYTHING—snacks, heating pads, your favorite drinks, and even a blanket that looks like a giant burrito.

“what else do you need? should i call a doctor? a masseuse? build you a pillow fort?”

he’s over the top ( *cough* more than usual *cough* ), but it’s so sweet you can’t even be mad.

"reo, you don’t need to do all this—"

"yes, i do. you’re in pain, and i don’t like it."

"you’re insane."

"insanely in love with you, yep."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ chigiri hyoma

chigiri is so calm and collected about it. he’s like, “i got this.” he makes you tea, rubs your back, and lets you vent about how annoying it all is.

he also takes you on peaceful walks or sits with you by the window, brushing your hair and talking about random things to keep your mind off the cramps. it’s giving romance movie vibes.

"hyoma, you’re like… weirdly good at this."

"i have a sister. i’ve trained for this moment."

"oh my god, of course you have."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ hiori yo

hiori is the gentlest bean. he’s like, “do you need anything? want me to get you soup? should we watch your favorite movie?” he’s so soft and accommodating, it’s almost ridiculous.

he also writes you little notes to cheer you up, like: “you’re stronger than cramps 💪 i believe in you!!”

"hiori, this note is so cheesy—"

"but did it make you smile?"

"…yeah, it did."

"then it worked. :D "

·˚ ༘ ꒱ shidou ryusei

shidou is chaotic as ever, but surprisingly… thoughtful? he shows up with junk food, a heating pad, and an attitude like, “let’s beat this period’s ass together.”

he’s also the type to jokingly pick a fight with your u t e r u s ( you read that right ), yelling things like: “how dare you hurt my girl?! square up, you coward!” it’s dumb, but it works.

"ryu, stop yelling at my uterus—"

"not until it apologizes."

"you’re so stupid."

"but you’re laughing, so i win."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ itoshi sae

sae is quietly attentive. he doesn’t say much, but he notices everything—like the way you hold your stomach or wince when you move. suddenly, you’ve got a hot water bottle and your favorite drink in your hand, no explanation needed.

he’ll sit with you in comfortable silence, scrolling on his phone until you’re ready to talk. it’s subtle, but you feel so cared for.

"sae, you didn’t have to get all this—"

"you’re in pain. of course i did."

"���thanks."

"don’t mention it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ michael kaiser

kaiser is so dramatic about it. the second you tell him, he’s like, “mein gott, my poor love! what can i do?!” he acts like you're about to be taken from him.

but honestly? he’s surprisingly good at making you laugh and keeping your spirits up. he’ll even let you boss him around for the day.

"michael, stop being so dramatic—"

"i can’t help it! your pain is my pain!"

"you’re ridiculous."

"and you love me for it."

·˚ ༘ ꒱ alexis ness

ness is the sweetest little bean. he immediately offers to make you tea and snuggle on the couch with your favorite blanket. he’s like a human heater—so warm and comforting.

he also sends you texts like, “you’re doing amazing, sweetheart 💖 cramps don’t stand a chance against you!” pure angel.

"ness, you’re being so extra—"

"only because you deserve it!"

"you’re such a dork."

"your dork 🥰."

© txrully

copy/translate/plagiarize/repost my works in any way and i will be under your bed 🥰

likes + reblogs always appreciated <3

[draculasintern]

Silco Headcanons (2)

Transcript from Draculasintern file #V016-X

So, more Silco because I might have a thing for old men who could kill me. Sfw and NSFW

He doesn’t say I love you out loud very often. But he shows it in the way he pours your tea before his own. In the hand at the small of your back when he walks you through the office. In the way he listens—really listens—when you speak, even if it’s about something small.

He has a specific spot on the couch where he relaxes after long days. You always end up curled there with him—head tucked under his chin, his arm over your shoulder, fingers absently brushing your arm. He doesn’t speak during those moments. Just breathes. Just is.

Calls you darling, my heart, sweet thing—but only in private. His voice drops half a register when he says it, like he’s afraid the softness might leak into his public mask.

His coat has become your coat. You said you were cold once. Now he wraps it around your shoulders before you even realize you’re shivering. It smells like him. You pretend not to notice how often you bury your face in it.

He watches you sleep. Not in a haunting way—just quiet, thoughtful, like he’s memorizing the curve of your cheek, the way you twitch when you dream. His hand usually rests near yours, just enough to touch, just enough to keep you tethered.

He keeps a framed photo of you in his office drawer. Only opens it when things are too heavy. When Zaun feels too much like a war and not enough like a home. He looks at you, then closes the drawer, steadies his breath, and continues.

If someone threatens you—even with a look—he’s suddenly there. Not loud. Not theatrical. Just close. Just deadly calm. “Is there a problem?” A hand on your back. His voice like ice. Problem solved.

He loves when you sit on his desk. Legs swinging or crossed, papers scattered, you making commentary while he works. He pretends to be annoyed. He’s not. He’s never more focused than when you’re nearby.

He doesn’t sleep much. But when he does, he sleeps better with you in the room. Even if you’re reading. Even if you’re quiet. He’ll rest his head in your lap with a soft exhale and let himself drift.

Sometimes he leaves notes. Sharp handwriting. Folded with precision. “Don’t forget to eat.” “Your scarf is on the rack.” “Wake me if you need anything.” You keep them. All of them.

He touches you like you’re precious and breakable, but he kisses you like you’re the only real thing he’s ever known. Lips to your knuckles. To your temple. Your pulse.

If you’re angry or upset, he gives you space—but not distance. He’s still there. In the room. Back turned, waiting. And when you’re ready, he turns around, opens his arms, and lets you fall into them without a word.

He lets you fix his tie. Run your fingers through his hair. Adjust his collar. All things he could do himself—but he likes when it’s you. He closes his eyes and sighs like your hands make the weight on his shoulders a little lighter.

You once traced the scar around his eye with your fingertip. He didn’t flinch. Just watched you with something molten in his gaze. “Does it frighten you?” he asked. You shook your head. “Good,” he murmured. “It frightens everyone else.”

He never really believed in softness until you. Never knew gentleness could be powerful. But you—your smile, your voice, the way you touch his face like he’s something worth keeping—you changed him. And he’ll never forget it.

He doesn’t rush. No matter how badly he wants you, his control is a blade honed to perfection. He undresses you slowly, step by step—hands dragging down your arms, your thighs, until you’re trembling and asking him to do something about it.

He has you spread out across his desk—hands gripping the edge, cheek to the cool surface—while he fucks into you slow, steady, deliberate. His voice is in your ear the entire time. “You like this? Like how deep I am, darling?”

He likes power in small, quiet ways. Holding your jaw while he kisses you. Keeping his hand on your chest while he pushes into you, just to feel your heartbeat stutter. “You’re shaking.” He sounds amused. “Is it from pleasure or fear?”

He doesn’t just talk dirty—he tells you what you’re doing to him. “You feel that?” he groans, fucking deeper. “That’s how wet you are. That’s how tight you’ve got me. Gods, you ruin me.”

If you tease him—flirt in public, whisper something filthy while he’s in a meeting—you’ll pay for it later. Bent over the arm of the couch, legs trembling, his voice a low rasp in your ear: “Next time you want to misbehave, think of this.”

He rarely lets go of control—but when he does, it’s desperate. You ride him and he’s all breathless groans, eyes fluttering, hands gripping your hips like he’s going to fall apart if you stop. “Don’t—don’t stop—please, just like that…”

He whimpers when he’s close. A sharp contrast to his usual calm. You kiss his throat, grind down hard, and he moans—high, needy, completely undone. “You’re too much, darling. I can’t—fuck—”

He adores when you talk him through it. Praise, teasing, all of it. “Such a mess, sweetheart. Can’t even think straight, can you?” You murmur, and he bites his lip, bucking up into you. “So sensitive, huh?” He whines into your mouth like he hates how much he likes it.

When he’s underneath you, it’s like the world vanishes. He watches your every move—eyes heavy, lips parted, letting you take what you want from him. His hands shake on your thighs. His voice breaks on your name.

Afterward, he clings. Chest pressed to your back, arms around your waist, breath still catching. “You’re… everything,” he murmurs. Quiet. Almost ashamed. But you know he means it. He always does.

So.. How we feeling?

-The Intern

[starlightandfairies]

Okay, first of all, sorry for my bad English, but could you maybe write a story with Kalus where you are all together (his siblings and Elena, Damon, Stefan etc.) in a room and spend time together, or rather solve another problem. Klaus notices how absent you are and how quiet you are the whole time. And later you disappear to a quiet place where you can be alone but then he shows up? The story need to be sweet😪

Description: gets overwhelmed and needs some time to relax

Warnings: she/her pronouns, fluff, swearing

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thank you for requesting this! I hope you enjoy it!

Key: Y/N = Your Name, L/N = Last name, POV = Point of view, f/ice/c

Word Count: 1,013

First Person's pov

Everyone was here. Bonnie, Elena, Damon, Enzo, Stefan, Elijah, Rebekah, Caroline and Niklaus. My house was normally the meeting place, today was no different. I couldn't tell you what the issue was this time, I've been out of it for the past week. It's been hard, at the start of the week, I nearly got badly hurt while the next big-bad came along and after Stefan saved my butt, I got reprimanded by him for being so reckless and stupid. 

 I hated being yelled at or being near someone being yelled at. Ever since I was little, I've hated loud noises, so that incident at the start of the week just became a series of things building on top of each other. It was late, I was already overwhelmed and overstimulated, everyone was shouting at each other, demanding they be heard and that they were right. 

"Dammit Damon! You cannot just expect us all to run around your agenda!" 

"What else can we do?" Damon roared, I stared at my hands in my lap, fiddling with the skirt of my dress. I could feel Niklaus' eyes on me, they have been for the last little while, I have no clue what he was thinking or what he wanted but having him look at me, analysing me and my every move. 

"Love, are you alright?" Niklaus softly murmured, I simply hummed in response, not meeting his eye or the disapproving hum that came from his lips. Everyone kept yelling, hitting my furniture in frustration, I could feel the tears bubbling and the prickling in my throat, If I didn't get away now then I'd breakdown in front of everyone. 

While everyone was gathering around the table, writing out a plan for stopping this big bad, I slipped away and sat in my bedroom. I let out a shaky breath, letting the tears slip from my eyes and sobbed into my hands. I curled into my mattress, clutching my teddy bear to my chest and hoping all the chatter in my brain would fade away. 

"So, this is the great Y/n L/n's bedroom." I sat up, rubbing my eyes, watching as Niklaus sat on the edge of my bed and turned to face me. I took a deep breath, pushing myself up and rested my teddy bear in my lap, watching him as he gazed around my room before his eyes landing me again. 

"I am going to ask again... love. Are you alright?" His voice was smooth, gentle and even caring. On any normal day I could listen to him talk for hours on end, he had such a pretty voice. 

"No... no, I'm not alright." 

"Tell me what's wrong, love." It was a gentle demand, something I wouldn't fight against. 

"I've just been feeling very overwhelmed and overstimulated. Got too much." Niklaus simply nodded, took my hand into his and rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. Niklaus hummed, his face scrunching up in thought before it relaxed and his eyes gazed upon me soothingly. 

"I will kick them out from your home. They can take this to the Salvatore manor." 

"Thank you." He nodded and looked at my teddy bear. 

"What is this lovely thing's name?" I was grateful for the distraction, clutching to the arms of the bear a little tighter and smiled. 

"Her name is Pebbles. I got her when I was a baby. I know it's silly... not being a kid anymore and having a teddy bear still." Niklaus shrugged, seemingly not bothered by this. 

"Does it bring you comfort?" I nodded. 

"Then why should it matter?" 

"I suppose you are right, Niklaus." He chuckled once I said his name, I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my own smile at bay from his sweet laughter. 

"You always call me Niklaus. I don't think I have ever heard you call me Klaus."

"I like calling you Niklaus. It sounds nice, it just rolls off the tongue." He chuckled nodding, turning his body to face me better. I took another breath, finding the uneasy feeling fading away the longer I sat in Niklaus' presence. It was quiet up here, I could just here the others and every time I would react to the group becoming more vocal, Niklaus would bring my attention back to him by asking about something in my room. 

My cat walked into the room, jumping onto Niklaus' lap, curling into him and hitting his hands with her paw to get him to pet her. 

"She's a sweet thing, I'm sorry, I'll call her off." 

"It's okay, I do not mind, your cat and you are quite welcome to my lovely presence and comfort whenever." I chuckled at the light sound of arrogance in his voice. He continued petting my cat for a little while until she jumped off and he took that as his moment to stand up and held out his hand. 

"Y/n, I think you need some time away from these headaches. Do you trust me?" I nodded, I really did, not once had Niklaus used me for his gain, he hadn't betrayed my trust once and I don't believe he ever would. 

"Yeah, okay." He picked me up, then sped out my window. Niklaus took me to a look-out in a couple towns over, it overlooked the water and no one else was nearby. The water brushed up against the rocks, soothing and peaceful. Within a blink he disappeared and within another he had a cup full of f/ice/c. 

"Thank you. Y-you didn't need to do this."  "You are feeling down, a sweet treat can always help. As I am told." I took small spoonfuls of the ice cream and started swaying to the gentleness of the violin. 

"You know my favourite ice cream, my favourite instrument and my favourite song. How?"  

"I have my ways, love." He whispers, letting me bask in the peace of the music. 

[fluentmoviequoter]

Mom and Dad are Fighting Again

Requested Here!

The Bradfords Series Masterlist

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!wife!reader

Summary: You and Tim become Lucy's station parents, and you show your care for her in different ways.

Warnings: fluff, brief angst, grumpy!Tim to softie!Tim, "mom and dad are fighting again" is a Castle reference

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

“Bradford!” Wade calls.

“Which one?” you and Tim ask together.

Wade sighs, and Angela adds, “He’s tired just thinking about the conversation. That means he needs Tim.”

“Tim,” Wade clarifies. “Let the other Bradford help Chen prep the shop. I need to talk to you about something.”

“Ooh,” Angela and Lucy taunt.

You roll your eyes, but it is a bit like being called into the principal’s office. Luckily, Tim and Wade get along well. You tap Lucy’s shoulder and wave for her to follow you. After you sign for your gear, Lucy gets hers and Tim’s. Once you’re in the garage and your bag is in your shop, Lucy turns to you with a pout.

“If a Bradford had to be my TO, why couldn’t it have been you?” she asks.

“Tim is the best there is, Luce. I know he can be grumpy and push a little too hard, but I promise learning from him is worth it,” you reply.

“At least I have you to stand up for me.”

“Ah, so that’s why you wanted to be my friend.”

“We’re cops, not friends,” Tim interjects as he walks out of the doorway behind you. “Let’s go, boot.”

“We’re not friends,” Lucy murmurs under her breath. “Says the guy who’s married to another cop.”

“What was that?” Tim asks.

“Tim,” you warn gently.

You shake your head, and he takes a deep breath before getting in the driver’s seat. As you climb into your shop beside him, Lucy rolls her window down and gestures for you to do the same.

“Dad says he loves you,” she says with a wide smile.

“Chen!” Tim yells.

“I love him too. Be safe, both of you,” you call before pulling out.

“We need to talk about boundaries, Chen,” Tim grumbles.

“Better than not talking,” she argues.

Tim leans against the side of the shop and stares straight ahead. It’s an interesting situation, but no matter how long he looks, he can’t decide what the best approach is. Lucy has spouted numerous ideas, and he’s vetoed each one.

“We could call for a lift truck,” she suggests as she paces on the sidewalk.

“Can’t get close enough,” Tim replies.

“Then you know what we have to do.”

Tim looks at Lucy, who now has her hands on her hips and a determined look.

“We have to call smarter reinforcements. Call Bradford,” she demands.

“I’m not calling my wife because we can’t- how could she even help?”

“She’s brilliant. You of all people have to know that.”

“Sounds like you should be running her fan club,” Tim complains.

“Having a hero isn’t wrong. If you don’t call her, I will.”

“And I’ll write you up.”

Lucy sighs and turns to look at the scene again. Tim runs through a few more ideas in his mind, but they all end in a worse situation than the current one. He sighs as he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Hey,” he greets when you answer.

Lucy turns around quickly and claps quietly. Tim glares at her, but her excitement doesn’t diminish as he continues talking to you.

“Are you busy?” he asks.

“Just tell her we need help!” Lucy implores.

“Yeah, that’s Chen. And we do need help.”

Lucy pumps a fist over her head in victory. When Tim ends the call, though, she steps back and quiets.

A few minutes later, you park beside Tim’s shop and exit your car with a smile.

“Someone called for the cavalry?” you joke. “So, what’s so strange Tim Bradford had to call for backup?”

Tim doesn’t answer but grabs your waist and leads you to stand between him and Lucy. He points up through a gap in the trees and you follow his finger. Your responding “huh” does little to make Tim think you’ll have an easier time solving the problem.

“What am I supposed to do about it?” you ask.

Tim turns to glare at Lucy again, and she ducks behind you. You look at Tim from the corner of your eye and he accepts your silent reprimand and gives Lucy some space.

“Did you try to get up there?” you ask.

“No. There’s no good approach,” Tim answers.

“I thought we could climb onto the roof beside it for recon and find a way to reach it,” Lucy says. “Or maybe get a ladder truck in the yard.”

“Roof recon isn’t a terrible idea,” you agree. “Why didn’t you do that?”

“Because I don’t agree that it would get us any more information than we can get from the ground,” Tim explains.

“We can��t get to it from here, though,” Lucy argues. “This park is protected, and we can’t bring CSU out here to traipse all over it. That house is our best bet.”

“Chen, you are not in charge,” Tim snaps.

“Tim,” you warn softly. “Just hear her out.”

“She’s my rookie. I don’t have to do anything she says.”

“I’m not saying to do exactly what she says, but you’re training her, not dictating her. Give her a chance to work this.”

Tim clenches his jaw and breathes out of his nose. The situation is stressful, you know, because every element of being a cop is. But Tim arguing with Lucy will only delay the inevitable.

“Please?” you add. “If her plan to scout from the roof doesn’t work, then I will call the park service and tell them to deal with it.”

“We don’t even know who owns that house.”

“One way to find out,” Lucy says.

You let Lucy take the lead and stand beside Tim on the porch as she talks to the owner of the home. He doesn’t seem inclined to let three police officers climb onto his roof to deal with something that he can’t see.

“I’m done talkin’ to ya,” he says before slamming the door in Lucy’s face. It opens a moment later and he adds, “One more thing.”

You can tell he’s prepared to do something stupid and pull Lucy back quickly. His fist misses her face by an inch, and you move her toward Tim before turning toward the homeowner. His second hit is luckier and lands against the side of your nose, but he’s not trained like you are. When you hit him in the same spot, he goes down hard and fast. You raise your hand to your face and immediately feel blood coming from your nose. There’s likely no real damage, just a busted blood vessel or two.

Lucy begins apologizing as Tim calls for backup and another unit to deal with the issue in the park. He returns his radio to his belt and lays his hands on your shoulders to look at you.

“We’re going back to the shop. Stay with him until backup gets here, Chen,” he commands.

“Yes, sir,” she answers quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Lucy,” you offer.

“We’ll discuss that later,” Tim interjects. “Let’s go.”

Tim keeps a hand on you during every step of the short walk back to the shop. He presses a wad of gauze under your nose and uses his other hand to tip your head slightly forward. When the top of your head hits his chest, you feel him sigh.

“What would you have done? If Chen wasn’t here?” he asks.

“I don’t know, Tim. A huge, gaudy murder confession nailed to a tree in a park is a new one. Park department wouldn’t have been much help, so it may have been one to pass off. Or trespass.”

Tim looks away from you when Lucy returns. You cover his hand to pull the gauze from your face, and when you see there’s no fresh blood, you pull an antiseptic wipe from the first aid kit and clean the dried blood from your chin and Tim’s hand. Lucy waits silently, and now she looks like the one waiting to be called to see the principal.

“What were you thinking?” Tim demands when you release his hand. “You never just stand in front of someone’s door. If we hadn’t been there, or if he had opened the door with a knife, what would have happened, Chen?”

“It won’t happen again, sir.”

“You’re right it won’t! I don’t know why you refuse to listen to me or remember basic, common procedures, but it will get you killed, and I’m not going to let that happen. I will take your badge if this is the kind of police work you’ll do once you’re out on your own!”

“Tim!” you interrupt. “She messed up. We all have. Maybe let her prove that she learned something before you threaten her career.”

“No! I don’t want her on the streets alone. I don’t want to imagine what I’d hear if she was partnered with you someday.”

“Drop it,” you demand as you stand.

Your chest presses against Tim’s, and his eyes bore into yours. Lucy watches on with her hands pulled tightly behind her back and guilt in her eyes.

“Or what?” Tim asks.

“You’re making it about me. But you’re done yelling at Chen. Lucy, get in my shop, we’re all going back to the station.”

“For what?” Tim scoffs.

“To learn some human decency, apparently. And if you’re still acting like this when we get back, I’m taking Chen for the rest of the week.”

Tim watches you toss the keys to Lucy before she walks away. His brow furrows and you realize he thought you were leaving him to drive back with Lucy.

“You trust her to drive your shop?” he asks.

“What is this about?” you counter. “Because she was just in a bad place, which is the best that could have happened.”

“She doesn’t apply what she knows. Lucy is smart and she’s got instincts, but she gets excited and jumps too soon.”

“Then walk her through everything. Standing back and being a drill sergeant is only going to make her rush more.”

“When did you become an expert on being a TO?”

Tim smiles softly at you, and you pat his chest.

“Guess you’re teaching me, too.”

“Bradford,” Wade calls over the radio. “The guy you booked for assault on an officer is claiming that Chen harassed him. I need your body cams as soon as you return.”

Tim pulls the seatbelt too hard and locks it. You answer Wade that you’ll all be back with your cams shortly. After replacing the radio on the dash, you lay a hand on Tim’s arm and encourage him to take a deep breath.

“That’s not Lucy’s fault,” you remind Tim.

“It was her plan,” Tim responds.

“I agreed with it. Does that make me a terrible cop?”

“Of course it doesn’t, but this isn’t about you!”

“Then what’s it about?” you ask, your voice raising to meet his.

“I feel like I’m failing her and that’s why we keep ending up here!”

Tim huffs as he finishes, and you watch him carefully. His shoulders drop, and you want to hug him but know better than to try while he’s driving.

“You’re not failing her. But there is always room for improvement. Being a teacher doesn’t mean you can’t learn, too.”

“How do you trust her like this?”

“You said it yourself. She’s smart and has good instincts, but she needs a bit of room to learn and hone those skills without feeling pressured to be perfect.”

Tim nods, and you whisper an apology for yelling at him. He shakes his head, and you agree that he doesn’t need to apologize either.

When you exit Wade’s office after surrendering your body cam and making your statement, you hear Angela ask Lucy where you and Tim are. Or, as you’re referred to at the station, The Bradfords.

“Oh, Mom and Dad are fighting again,” Lucy jokes.

“About you?” Angela asks, playing along but aware that Lucy isn’t completely wrong in her phrasing.

“What else?” Lucy counters.

“Chen, a word?” Tim asks as he moves around you.

You watch as he apologizes, and smile to yourself. Angela winks at you as she passes, and you join Tim and Lucy.

“Wade said I could stay with you two for the rest of shift. What are we up to?”

“We still have to deal with the murder confession in the trees,” Tim groans. “Hey, Nolan, have you dealt with a murder confession yet?”

Nolan shakes his head, and Tim looks around for Bishop. When he sees that she’s not close, Tim steps into Wade’s office and asks him to transfer the call to Nolan.

“Thanks, Officer Bradford!” Nolan replies happily.

“No problem,” Tim says.

Lucy hides her smile as she walks beside you. Every moment spent with her requires a level of parenting, and though you’re relatively close in age, you and Tim feel responsible for Lucy. As more than a cop. You show it in your own ways, but she knows how much she means to you and Tim and feels the same.

During one of your very few days off, you want to surprise Tim with dinner. The recipe that you want has seemingly disappeared, though, and you’ll have to call Lucy to get it again. 

When her phone rings, and she answers, “Hey, Mom,” Tim shakes his head.

“No personal calls in my shop,” Tim says.

“You answer for her.”

Tim’s brows furrow until he realizes Lucy isn’t talking to her biological mom, but her station mom. He nods to let her know she can continue talking to you.

“Dad says hi,” she says, just to bother Tim.

“Dad says he needs a day off, too,” Tim grumbles.

“Don’t you dare answer that,” Tim says against your lips. “Date night, not LAPD night.”

“It’s Luce,” you argue as you reach for your phone.

Tim catches your wrist and brings it to his lips to distract you. Your phone rings again, though, and Tim’s chimes with an incoming text. He releases your arm hesitantly and pulls you so he can lay his head against your shoulder.

“Hi, Luce,” you answer.

“Put me on speaker!” she requests happily.

“Alright. Tim and I are both here.”

“I passed my rookie exam! I know you’re both off today, but Sergeant Grey knew we couldn’t wait to hear the results. Thank you, both of you, so much!”

“Congratulations!” you and Tim say together.

“We’ll celebrate when we get back,” you add.

“I knew you could do it,” Tim says. “Good job, Lucy.”

“Okay, okay, I need to call my mom and tell her that she was wrong. Enjoy the rest of your time off.”

The line beeps as she ends the call, and you and Tim lock eyes.

“She called us first, didn’t she?” you ask.

“We really are turning into her parents,” Tim says with an exaggerated shudder.

“You look pretty good for a dad,” you tease. “And you care about Lucy no matter how much you pretend not to.”

Tim looks at you for a moment before asking, “You know Lucy’s real parents set the bar low, right?”

“Let me have this. She’s my daughter and she’s no longer a boot.”

Tim groans, but before you can tease him again, he pulls you down to continue kissing you. Until your phone begins buzzing nonstop with excited texts from Lucy, at least.

[d-z20]

The Agent Next Door part 3 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agent Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: When a ghost from Rio's past resurfaces, the safe haven you’ve built together is threatened. As danger edges closer, your bond deepens in unexpected ways, testing your trust and strength in each other. Amidst fear and uncertainty, you discover just how far both of you are willing to go to protect what matters most.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, angst, smut, fluff ending, fingering (R recv), oral (Rio recv), praise kink, slight power bottom Rio

Words: 4.2k

A/N: The angsty third (and final?) part as promised

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Master List

Under Her Protection

You’re sprawled out on Rio’s couch, nestled comfortably against her side as the TV plays in the background. It’s the kind of night you’ve both come to love—no plans, no rush, just the two of you together, half-watching some crime drama. You can feel the steady rise and fall of her chest as you rest your head there, her arm slung casually around your shoulders, fingers absently tracing patterns on your arm.

It’s a rare, peaceful moment, one that you’ve started to cherish more and more. You glance up at her; she looks different like this—softer. The usual tension in her jaw has melted away; her sharp features relaxed in a way you rarely get to see. You smile to yourself, the sight of her at ease filling you with a quiet kind of joy. She’s not just the composed, authoritative FBI agent you first met. Here, she’s Rio—your Rio—and you could watch her like this forever.

You press a kiss to her jaw, feeling her smile against your lips.

“Enjoying the show?” she asks, her voice teasing. You know she couldn’t care less about what’s on the screen, but it’s a running joke between the two of you—mocking the exaggerated, overly dramatic FBI agents depicted on TV.

“Oh, absolutely,” you drawl, playing along. “I just love how accurate it all is. Clearly, every case is solved in a day, and all agents wear heels and leather jackets.”

Rio chuckles, pulling you closer. “It’s ridiculous,” she snorts. “Half of this would get thrown out in court in a heartbeat. And don’t even get me started on the ‘enhance the grainy footage’ bullshit.”

You grin, enjoying the rare, playful side of her. “I bet you’d never pull a stunt like that. The great Agent Vidal would never dream of cutting corners.”

She raises an eyebrow, her smirk sharp. “Oh, you’d be surprised what I’ve pulled off. Sometimes rules are more like... guidelines.”

You laugh, leaning into her, and she squeezes your shoulder lightly. For a moment, everything feels easy—peaceful.

Then her phone buzzes, cutting through the quiet. She lets out a small sigh and picks it up, her expression immediately shifting as she reads the message. The shift is so sudden it makes your stomach drop. Without a word, she gets up and walks to the window, peering through the blinds like she’s expecting to see something—or someone—out there.

“Rio?” You ask cautiously, sitting up. “What’s wrong?”

She doesn’t answer right away, her shoulders visibly tense. Finally, she lets the blinds fall back into place and turns to you, her expression grim. “That was work,” she says, her voice low and controlled. “Someone I put away years ago just got released on parole. He... wasn’t supposed to get out this soon.”

You frown, confused. “Why is that a problem? Didn’t he serve his time?”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she won’t answer. Then she sighs, running a hand through her hair. “The last time I saw him, he threatened to ruin my life,” she says quietly. “He’s dangerous. And vindictive. If he finds out where I live... who you are... how much I lov—.”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t have to. The implications hang heavy in the air. You swallow hard, suddenly very aware of the weight of her job and the risks that come with it.

“Hey,” you say softly, standing and moving to her side. “I’m sure it’s fine. He probably doesn’t even know you’re here.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for the first time since you met her, you see real fear there. “Maybe. But I can’t take that chance.” She pauses, her hand brushing your arm. “I want you to stay here. At least until I figure out what’s going on.”

The seriousness in her tone leaves no room for argument, and you nod. “Okay. I’ll stay.”

You settle back onto the couch together, but the atmosphere has shifted now, an unspoken tension lingering in the room. Rio keeps her phone close, her other arm wrapped protectively around you, her eyes flicking back to the window every so often.

You try to focus on the TV show, but your thoughts keep drifting. It’s unsettling, this shadow of a threat hanging over the two of you, and you can tell Rio feels it too. Her grip on you tightens every time she hears a noise from outside, her thumb rubbing circles against your arm as if she’s trying to soothe both of you.

Eventually, you turn your head to look up at her. “You know, I don’t need a TV show when I’ve got my own personal action hero right here.”

Rio snorts, shaking her head. “Is that what I am now?”

“Yep,” you say, grinning up at her. “Neighbour, fashion critic, and now... bodyguard.”

She rolls her eyes but leans down to press a kiss to your lips, soft and lingering. “Just stay close, okay?”

You nod, your heart fluttering at the protectiveness in her voice. “I’m not going anywhere, Rio.”

Relief flashes across her face, but it’s fleeting. She takes your hand, leading you to her bedroom without another word. The silence between you is heavy but not uncomfortable—it’s charged, humming with unspoken worry and a need for closeness.

When you get to the bed, her hands are on you immediately, tugging you close. There’s a new intensity to her touch, her fingers gripping your hips firmly, almost possessively. She kisses you hard, like she’s trying to stake her claim, her mouth moving with an urgency you’ve never felt from her before.

“Rio—” you start, but she cuts you off with another kiss, her hands sliding under your shirt, nails raking up your skin. Her lips move to your neck, sucking and biting hard enough to leave marks that you know will last. It’s not just passion—it’s something deeper, rawer. Like she needs to prove to herself that you’re here, that you’re hers.

You let her take the lead, your own hands roaming her body, trying to reassure her in your own way. But she’s relentless, her mouth trailing lower, her teeth grazing your collarbone. She pushes you back onto the bed, her weight settling over you as she pins your wrists above your head.

Her gaze is dark, her eyes searching yours. “I need to know you’re safe,” she murmurs, her voice rough. “I need to feel it.”

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper, and it’s the truth.

Her grip on your wrists tightens briefly before she leans down, kissing you again, slower this time but no less intense. 

The night is a blur of heated touches and whispered reassurances, her possessiveness never crossing the line into discomfort. Instead, it leaves you breathless, the depth of her need for you pulling you even closer.

When you finally fall asleep, tangled in her arms, the weight of her protectiveness wraps around you like a shield. Even as your mind drifts, you know this is only the beginning of whatever storm is coming. But with her by your side, you’re ready to face it.

—

You’ve been staying at Rio’s apartment for a week now, and every night, her hold on you seems to grow tighter. Even in her sleep, her arms remain locked around you, as though her subconscious refuses to let you out of her grasp. It’s a level of protectiveness you’re not used to, but you can’t deny how safe it makes you feel.

The days are a strange mix of normalcy and subtle unease. You run errands, cook together, and share quiet moments on her couch. But in the back of your mind, there’s always a faint sense of being watched. You’ve chalked it up to paranoia—Rio’s warning had a way of sticking with you, and you tell yourself you’re just imagining things.

Still, it’s hard to ignore the nagging feeling when you start seeing the same person more than once. A tall figure with a hood pulled low over their face, lingering at the edge of your vision. You’ve seen them on the street, at the corner store, and now again as you leave the grocery shop, arms full of bags. You glance over your shoulder, your pulse quickening as you catch sight of them just a few steps behind.

You quicken your pace, gripping the bags tightly. Your heart pounds in your chest as you cut across the street and head for the apartment building. You take a chance and glance back again. They’re still following.

By the time you reach Rio’s apartment door, your hands are shaking so badly you almost drop your keys. You fumble with the lock, finally getting the door open and slamming it shut behind you. You lock it, bolting the deadlock for good measure.

You text Rio immediately: I think I was followed. Just got back. Door locked.

The response comes quickly. Stay put. Don’t answer the door for anyone. I’m coming back now.

You breathe out, trying to calm yourself, but as you read her words, a new sound sends a chill down your spine. A faint rattle at the door.

Your stomach drops, and you freeze, staring at the door as the sound grows louder. It’s not your imagination. Someone’s trying the handle. Your mind races, and you grab the closest thing within reach—a table lamp. It’s not exactly a weapon, but it’ll have to do. Your grip tightens on the lamp’s base as the rattling stops, replaced by a loud bang.

The door crashes open, splintering the frame, and the hooded figure steps inside. They’re taller than you thought, their broad frame filling the doorway as they pause, scanning the room. You take a shaky step back, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Well, well,” he says, his voice dripping with malice. “Look who’s made themselves right at home. You must be the little pet she’s been keeping around.” 

Your mind races, and you instinctively take a step back, trying to put the kitchen island between you and him. “Who the hell are you?” you demand. 

He smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “You don’t know me, but Rio does. She’s the reason I spent the last ten years rotting away in a cell. Thought I’d pay her back by taking something she cares about.”

He lunges at you with a knife, and you barely manage to swing the lamp, hitting him across the face. He staggers back, but only for a moment, then charges at you again. You fight back, kicking and screaming, but he’s strong—stronger than you expected. He pins you against the wall, one hand around your throat. 

“That’s right, scream for her,” he growls. “Let’s see if she gets here in time.” 

You’re gasping for air, your vision blurring, when suddenly, the already broken door is rammed open again, falling off its hinges from the force of the action. 

Rio barges in, her gun drawn, her expression a mixture of fury and fear. “Let them go,” she says, her voice deadly calm, the kind that promises retribution. 

The man tightens his grip on you, pulling you in front of him as a shield. “Shoot me, and you’ll hit them,” he taunts. 

Rio’s eyes meet yours, and you can see the raw, helpless anger there. You’ve never seen her look so terrified.

The man tightens his grip on you, and your vision starts to black. Your pulse pounds in your ears, the lack of air making your limbs feel heavy. Rio stands frozen in the doorway, her gun unwavering, her eyes locked on the man holding you.

“Let them go,” Rio repeats, her voice low and seething with barely restrained fury.

The man smirks, his grip loosening just enough for you to gasp for air. “You really think you’ve got the upper hand here, bitch? You’re so predictable—always running to play the hero.”

Rio doesn’t flinch. “This is the last chance I’ll give you. Let. Them. Go. Now.”

He sneers, then suddenly shoves you away with all his strength. You stumble, hitting the edge of the kitchen counter hard before crumpling to the floor, pain flaring in your side. Rio’s shout of your name echoes through the room, but you can barely focus as you clutch at your ribs, trying to steady your breathing.

The distraction is all Rio needs. She lunges at him before he can turn back to her, knocking the knife from his hand as they crash to the floor. The struggle is brutal—a chaotic blur of punches and grunts as Rio fights with a ferocity you’ve never seen before.

He manages to pin her briefly, his hands going for her throat, but Rio uses the momentum to roll them over, her knee pressing into his chest. She grabs the cuff of his wrist and twists him onto his stomach, forcing him to let out a pained shout as she pins his arm behind his back.

“You should’ve let them go,” she growls, forcing his face against the floor. He thrashes beneath her, but her grip is unrelenting, her strength fuelled by sheer fury.

She pulls her cuffs from her belt, snapping them onto his wrists with a finality that fills the room. She grabs his hair and yanks his head up, knee still pressing into his back. “And now you’re going to pay,” she says coldly before smashing his face into the ground, breaking his nose, and knocking him unconscious.

Her eyes flick to you, her expression softening with worry. “Are you okay?”

Before you can answer, Rio pulls out her phone, calling for backup. Her voice is calm and clipped as she gives the necessary details, but her free hand remains clenched at her side, still shaking from the adrenaline.

When the call ends, she crouches next to you, her hands ghosting over your body, careful not to touch the areas where you’re clearly in pain. “Hey, let me see,” she murmurs, her tone gentle now. “Where are you hurt?”

You wince as you shift, trying to sit up. “Just... my side. Think I hit the counter pretty hard.”

Her jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think she might explode all over again—but she just exhales, brushing a hand over your hair. “Backup’s on the way. He’s not going anywhere. I promise you’re safe now.”

You nod weakly, and she leans closer, her forehead briefly touching yours. The tension in her body doesn’t ease until the distant wail of sirens signals that help has arrived. Even then, her focus stays on you, her protective presence a shield between you and the man who dared to threaten what she holds most dear.

With the chaos finally under control and the intruder hauled away in handcuffs, Rio keeps a steady arm around you as she guides you back across the hall to your apartment. You can still feel the tremors in your hands, the echo of fear and adrenaline in your veins, but her presence is grounding.

As the door closes behind you, she doesn’t let go. Instead, she leads you to the couch, sitting beside you with her arm securely around your shoulders. “You okay?” she asks softly, her fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face.

You nod, leaning into her touch. “Yeah. Just... processing.”

A flicker of guilt crosses Rio’s face. “I never should’ve left you alone.”

“You couldn’t have known,” you reply, reaching up to squeeze her hand. “And you came back in time. That’s what matters.”

She exhales heavily, her arms tightening around you protectively. For a while, neither of you speak, the silence broken only by the rhythmic sound of her breathing. Then she shifts, her thumb brushing against your knuckles. “I mean it, though—I’m not letting you out of my sight for a while.”

You roll your eyes but don’t argue. The truth is, you don’t mind the idea of her staying close.

As the evening wears on, you begin to feel a sense of normalcy returning. Wrapped in her arms, you finally let your guard down, the weight of the day melting away. You tilt your head up to meet her gaze, your heart skipping as you notice the way she’s looking at you—soft yet intent.

“You’re staring,” you tease, your voice quiet.

“Can’t help it,” she murmurs, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re kind of hard to look away from.”

Your cheeks flush, but before you can respond, her lips capture yours in a kiss that’s slow and deliberate, like she’s savouring every moment. You respond eagerly, your fingers tangling in her hair as she shifts to deepen the kiss.

Somehow, the two of you end up lying on the couch, her body pressing against yours as your hands roam freely, exploring the familiar territory with renewed fervour. She pulls away just long enough to catch her breath, her forehead resting against yours. “Bedroom?” she whispers, her voice husky.

You nod, your heart racing as she helps you to your feet. The walk to the bedroom is brief, but each step feels charged with anticipation. 

You guide her to the bed, her hand sliding into yours as you both move with an unspoken understanding. She lets you press her down gently so she’s sitting on the mattress, her signature smirk tugging at her lips. “So, this is how it’s going to be tonight?” she teases, her voice low, challenging but still laced with warmth. Her eyes glint with curiosity, though you can sense she’s enjoying this shift in control. “Guess I can let you take the lead. Just this once.”

You can’t help but laugh softly, leaning down to press a playful kiss to her lips. “Call it a thank you for saving me. Hero perks, right?” You reply, your voice just as teasing.

Her chuckle rumbles low in her throat as her hands settle lightly on your hips, grounding you. “You’ve got an interesting way of saying thanks,” she murmurs, tilting her head to expose her neck—an invitation and a challenge all at once. “But I’m not complaining.”

You take her challenge with a grin, leaning down to press your lips to her neck, your kisses starting soft but quickly growing more heated. You find the spot just below her ear where her skin is most sensitive, and when she lets out a low, pleased hum, you focus your attention there. Your tongue darts out, followed by a sharp nip of your teeth, before you suck on her skin, leaving a mark to match the ones she gave you just nights ago.

She tilts her head back with a soft gasp, her fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “You’re getting good at that,” she murmurs, her tone teasing but breathless. Her words spur you on, and you trail more kisses down her neck, each one deliberate, each one claiming her in your own way.

As your lips continue their path, your hands slide over her body, unbuttoning her shirt and tugging it off. Your eyes roam her, taking in every inch of her toned body and the way her muscles flex under your touch.

“Enjoying the view?” she teases, arching a brow, but there’s a flush on her cheeks that betrays her confidence.

“Absolutely,” you reply without hesitation, earning a quiet laugh from her.

Your hands move to the waistband of her pants, your fingers brushing against her skin as you pull them down, leaving her bare before you. You grab her hips, pulling her into you so she’s perched on the edge of the bed, your legs pushing her knees further apart. Her dark eyes meet yours, filled with a mixture of anticipation and challenge, and you can’t help but feel a surge of affection and desire for her all at once.

“You look good like this,” you say softly, your hands trailing up her thighs as you kneel between them.

Rio leans back on her palms, her smirk widening. “Show me just how grateful you are, sweetheart.”

Looking directly into Rio’s eyes, you drag your tongue through her wetness. 

“That’s it,” she breathes, her voice huskier now. Her nails coming to dig lightly into your shoulder as her body shifts beneath you. 

Hooking your arms under her legs, you push your face further into Rio, tongue pressing firmer against her clit and she rolls her hips at the sensation. Your tongue swirls over and around her bundle of nerves, eliciting more praise. “You’re so good at this, sweetheart,” she says, her tone uncharacteristically tender.

The praise makes your stomach flip, and you press your thighs together, feeling your arousal soak your underwear.

You notice the subtle change in her demeanour, her usual teasing grin replaced by something softer, more vulnerable. Her hands grip you tightly, but there’s a gentleness to her touch you hadn’t expected. “I don’t give up control often. But with you... it feels right.” Her voice falters slightly, and the admission makes your heart ache with tenderness.

As her orgasm builds, she finally lets go entirely, her usual defences falling away. Her head tilts back, her breathy praises and quiet gasps filling the space. After she reaches her peak, she pulls you up to her, her arms wrapping around you tightly as if grounding herself. “You’re incredible,” she whispers into your ear, her lips brushing against your temple as she catches her breath. “But don’t think I’m done with you yet.”

Her smirk returns, this time sharper, more determined. Before you can respond, she drags you down on to the bed, flipping you gently onto your back. Her strength is firm but careful, her lips curling in amusement at your surprised expression. “Your turn,” she murmurs, her voice low and promising. She begins to trail kisses down your body, her actions deliberate and knowing. “Let me show you how grateful I am,” she adds, her grin growing as your body arches beneath her touch.

With that, she strips you, her soft hands feeling all over your body. When her fingers trail up your thigh, she lets out a soft chuckle at the feeling of your arousal dripping. “Seems like someone enjoyed the praise.” 

You whimper as her fingers press lightly against your clit.

“You made me feel so good, baby.” Her middle finger slides lower. “Such a clever girl.” She teases your entrance. “You know exactly how I like it.” She pushes her finger in.

“Yes, fuck, yes,” you moan as it curls inside you. “More.”

Rio slides another finger in, biting her lip and groaning at how easily you take it. "Oh, darling, you’re taking me so well,” she praises, starting to pump her fingers in and out. She adds a third, and you feel the familiar tightening in your stomach. She picks up the pace, fucking all of the tension from the night out of you both. “You look so good like this,” she coos.

Arching into her touch, head pushing into the mattress, you keen, “Oh fuck. Rio, you’re going to make me cum.”

“That’s it, sweetheart; you’re doing so well, cum for me,” she whispers against your skin, kissing your neck.

Your mouth falls open, a breathless cry escaping as your orgasm overtakes you. The tension that had been building within you shatters, a wave of heat and pleasure coursing through your body. You arch into her, every nerve alight, the sensation so overwhelming that it renders you momentarily weightless. A strangled gasp follows, your voice raw and unrestrained, her name slipping from your lips like a plea and a prayer all at once.

—

Later, as the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Rio’s arms wrap tightly around you, holding you, refusing to let go. The tension of the night seems to fade, replaced by a sense of closeness you hadn’t fully realised until now. She presses a kiss to the top of your head, her fingers tracing absent patterns along your back.

“You know,” she begins softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t usually do this—let people in, I mean. I don’t let myself feel this way.” She hesitates, her grip on you tightening slightly. “But with you... I can’t imagine not having you here.”

Your chest tightens at her words, and you tilt your head to meet her gaze. The raw vulnerability in her eyes makes your heart ache. “Rio...” you begin, your voice trembling slightly as your hand brushes against her cheek. “I love you.”

Her lips part in surprise, and then her smile grows, soft and genuine in a way you rarely see. “Took you long enough to say it,” she teases, though her voice is thick with emotion. She leans down, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that’s slow and tender. When she pulls back, her eyes lock with yours. “I love you too, you know.”

You crack a small smile. “So, I guess you’re gonna be the one crashing at my place now, huh? Seeing as it’s your door that got kicked in this time,” you say, breaking the tender moment.

Rio blinks at you, then lets out a soft laugh. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” you reply, grinning now.

[scary-grace]

SWIM AT YOUR OWN RISK - a shigaraki x f!reader fic

You're a hero who specializes in water rescue, and you've been captured by the League of Villains. It only gets worse when you find out why.

my first ever MerMay thing! Canon-ish, hero!reader, reader has a transformation quirk, mild mortal peril, etc. Part 1 of...more. Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

When you became a rescue hero, you knew what you were getting into. A rescue hero’s life isn’t glamorous. It doesn’t come with sponsorships and it doesn’t really come with product endorsements, and you only really matter when something’s already gone wrong. You don’t fight villains – you just save people, usually from themselves. You’re the last person any villain would be interested in kidnapping. There’s no reason for Japan’s most dangerous villains to take any notice of you.

At least that’s what you thought. But the last thing you remember from this morning is leaving your house and heading for work – and the next thing you know, you’re standing out on a sea arch with six members of the League of Villains staring at you.

They asked you a question, but you’ve already forgotten it. The shock of it all – kidnapped, villains – is making it hard to think. “Can you run that by me again?”

“What about it aren’t you getting?” Dabi sneers. “We need you to teach Shigaraki to swim.”

Maybe you do remember something about that. It doesn’t make any more sense the second time around. “Why?”

“Because,” Toga Himiko says, from behind a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses, “we’re having our beach episode. And we aren’t going to have fun if we’re worried about Tomura-kun.”

“Right!” Twice announces. He’s still wearing his mask, but the rest of him is decked out in swim trunks, flip-flops, and a floppy hat. “I can’t frolic in the waves with my best pals if I’m worried one of them is gonna wander off and drown, and Spinner said we can’t put Shigaraki on one of those retractable kid leashes –”

“For the record, none of this was my idea.” Spinner looks embarrassed, and not at all like the villain you’ve seen on TV – without his Stain mask, he just looks like a normal guy with a heteromorphic quirk. “I just said we shouldn’t do a beach day if not everybody can enjoy it.”

“And I said you all can do whatever the fuck you want.” Shigaraki is standing off to one side, his face hidden beneath a hand and the hood of his black coat. It’s barely nine and the temperature’s already cracked thirty degrees. He must be boiling alive. “I don’t give a shit.”

“Of course you do,” Dabi says. His sneer isn’t hero-specific, it looks like – Shigaraki gets the exact same one as you did. “None of us want to put up with your bitching and moping –”

“Or your drowning –” Twice chimes in.

“So we found you a swim instructor,” the fifth member of the group concludes. He’s tall, with brown hair and eyes, and you don’t have a clue who he is. “She can help you.”

Shigaraki glances your way briefly, then returns to staring out at the sea. “I don’t need fucking help. Go roll in the sand and leave me alone.”

Problem solved, not that it’s going to help you any. If Shigaraki doesn’t want swim lessons, then your purpose here is at an end, and they’re probably going to kill you. At the same time, though, you’re aware of your proximity to the edge of the cliff. If you can get over that edge and hit the water, you’re golden. None of them have the kind of quirks that would let them chase you down, and you can swim to the nearest guarded beach and sound the alarm. The fact that you didn’t show up for work this morning probably sounded the alarm already. This is doable. Maybe.

The League of Villains isn’t paying quite as much attention to you as they were a second ago. They’re focused on Shigaraki. “She’s an expert. She does this all the time,” Spinner is saying. “I looked her up. People pay big money for her to teach their kids to swim.”

The brown-haired man looks interested. “How much money are we talking about?”

Spinner names a figure that’s triple what you charge for private lessons, on the rare occasions when you offer them. He and Dabi both worship Stain. They’ll think you’re disgusting, and instead of escaping while their backs are partially turned, you open your mouth to defend yourself. “I don’t really do private lessons,” you say, and they look at you. “My swim classes are open to anybody. And the rest of the time I lifeguard. So, uh – if you think I make a lot of money doing this, I don’t. That’s not why I became a hero.”

Twice hoots with laughter. “Some hero. We grabbed you without breaking a sweat.”

“I’m a rescue hero,” you say, aware that it’s pointless. Instead of you using their distraction to escape, Shigaraki’s using your distraction to sidle away from the others. “My job isn’t to fight villains. It’s to help people.”

Dabi gives you an evaluative look. “A rescue hero,” he says. “I heard your type is always on duty. If you see somebody in trouble, and your quirk and training equip you better than the average person to help, you have to. Right?”

“That’s weird,” Toga says. She lowers her sunglasses for a better look at you. “Is it true? If you see someone who needs help, you have to save them?”

“Yeah.” The rules are different for rescue heroes than regular heroes. “If I can help someone in distress, I have a responsibility to do it.”

“Got it,” Dabi says. That thoughtful look on his face is fading fast into malice, and a jolt of terror shoots down your spine. “Hey, Shigaraki –”

Shigaraki takes a few steps away from Dabi without turning around, and before you can so much as call out a warning, Dabi plants his hand on Shigaraki’s back and shoves him over the edge of the cliff. “There’s someone in distress,” he says, as Shigaraki vanishes with a curse that abruptly breaks off in a scream. “Help him.”

You’re not the only one who’s horrified to see Shigaraki go over the edge, but you are the only one who can do something about it. While Twice and Toga berate Dabi, and Spinner runs to the edge of the cliff and comes damn close to giving you two people to rescue instead of one, you pause for the most crucial step in a successful rescue: Taking a second to evaluate the scene. You peer down at the water and realize instantly that Dabi couldn’t have picked a worse place to push Shigaraki off. You could jump from the same spot, but why make it harder on yourself? You move to the left instead.

The brown-haired man you don’t recognize spots you. “What are you doing? He fell in over here –”

You tune him out – and the others, too, when they remember why Dabi pushed Shigaraki off a cliff in the first place. You breathe deep, more for show than anything else, then break into a run. Ten steps puts you at the edge, and you launch yourself over, bracing for the long drop into the water. That part never gets easier.

But your jump has carried you clear of the rocks and heavy surf at the base of the cliff, and when you hit the water, there’s nothing but ocean beneath you. You jumped feet-first, and your water shoes – the only support item you carry – immediately begin to stretch, molding to the shape of your feet as your quirk fuses and elongates them into fins. Webbing spreads between your fingers, and when you open your eyes, they’re impervious to the sting of seawater. Full immersion in seawater is enough to activate your quirk in its entirety, but years of training allow you to hold the transformation where it is. You have someone to rescue.

You swim for the spot Shigaraki went in. He won’t have gone far, not with how ceaselessly the waves batter against that section of the cliff, and it doesn’t take you long to find him. He’s underwater, still moving but sluggish under the weight of his clothes, his hair drifting around his face. There’s blood in the water around him. You can taste it, and as you swim closer, you see that it’s emanating from somewhere around his head and shoulders. He hit something when he fell, and head and neck injuries are a disaster no matter who gets them or how they occur. Is he even conscious? Whether he is or not, you need to get him out of the water.

You let the current carry you close, and although you hate yourself for it, you hesitate a second before reaching for him. You know how his quirk works. All five fingers touch you, and you’re dead. Trying to help Shigaraki could be the last thing you ever do.

But ocean rescue is dangerous, even for someone with your quirk. Every rescue could be the last thing you ever do, and if you do nothing, Shigaraki will drown right before your eyes. You can’t let that happen. You dive down to him, slip your hands under his arms from behind, and haul him upward. He comes to life in your grip, thrashing while you kick for the surface. You’d be more frightened of the fact that he’s trying to turn and grab you if every other person you’ve rescued hasn’t done exactly the same thing.

The two of you break the surface, you doing your best to keep Shigaraki’s mouth above the waves so he won’t swallow any more water than he already has while he tries to breathe. Your lungs haven’t even started to burn yet. You give him a few seconds to gasp for air, then order him to keep his mouth shut and close his eyes. No time to check if he’s done it or not. The only way you’re getting through the surge to calmer water is if you go under it. The next wave crests and you dive beneath it, pulling Shigaraki after you.

Now he’s trying hard to grab you, to use you to push himself to the surface. You adjust your grip and switch to a dolphin kick, fighting your quirk and its attempts to help you. At the same time, you keep count in your head. Shigaraki will need to breathe soon. You need to be through the waves by then.

As soon as the turbulence begins to soften, you swim for the surface again. Once again, you make sure Shigaraki clears the surface first. He’s coughing and gasping for air, but his chin’s above water, which means you’re in good shape for now. “Take some deep breaths. I’ve got you. You’re safe.”

“Fuck you.” Shigaraki coughs and spits out seawater. “This is your fault. I’m not safe. You dragged me out to the middle of the ocean instead of – that had better not be a fucking shark –”

“It’s a dolphin,” you say. The dolphin swims a little closer, decides you and Shigaraki aren’t interesting enough for further investigation, and turns swiftly away. “We’re headed to the beach now. I just needed to get us clear of the surge.”

You swim back for the beach, propelling yourself mainly with your legs. You need both arms to secure Shigaraki. He’s not fighting, which is a relief – and he’s not talking, which makes you nervous. He hit his head. You need him to talk so you can assess him. “Hey, Shigaraki? How are you holding up?”

He mumbles something. “I’m going to need you to repeat that,” you say. “How are you doing?”

“Do you put everybody you rescue in a headlock?”

“It’s not a headlock,” you say. “This is how I swim with anyone I rescue. It’s what’s safest.”

“Sure. And it’s not –” Shigaraki coughs as a wave splashes into his open mouth. “It’s definitely not because you’re scared of my quirk, right?”

You don’t see a point to answering that. Shigaraki keeps talking anyway, a sharp, irritated note in his voice. “How stupid do you think I am? I still can’t swim. If I Decay you out here, I’ll drown.”

So you’ll be in more danger on the beach than in the water. Good to know. You swim the rest of the way to shore, dragging yourself and Shigaraki onto the sand. Once you’re clear of the water, you start your actual assessment. “I saw blood in the water. Did you hit your head?”

Shigaraki nods, grimacing. “When?” you ask. He shrugs. “I need to know. Did you hit it when you fell, or once you were already in the water.”

“I came up for air. The fucking waves pushed me into the – what are you doing?” Shigaraki flinches as you move some strands of wet hair out of his face. “Don’t touch me.”

“I need to see the cut.” You keep looking, with a little more urgency this time. “Did you lose consciousness?”

“No,” Shigaraki says. You find the cut – a jagged gouge from his temple to his ear, just below his hairline – and make a skeptical sound before you can stop yourself. “Stop touching it.”

“Sorry. I know it hurts.”

“I didn’t say it hurt. I’m not some primary-school brat who cries about everything.” Shigaraki responds with a lot more venom than you’d expect given what you actually said to him. “It’s not like you can do anything, so don’t bother.”

The League grabbed you on your way to work, which meant you had all your supplies with you. Your first-aid kit is still hooked onto your belt. “I have what I need,” you say. “Are you going to let me help, or do you want to keep bleeding all over the sand?”

“You can’t help me if I don’t let you.”

“That’s right,” you say patiently. Sometimes people you’ve rescued get hostile with you – out of fear, or embarrassment. Even though this is probably just Shigaraki’s personality, you know how to deal with it. “Are you going to let me?”

Shigaraki holds your gaze for a second, averting his eyes faster than you’d expect. “Do your job. Whatever that means to a so-called hero.”

He’s mean. Of course he’s mean. He’s a villain – but honestly, you’ve rescued civilians who were worse. You pry open the first-aid kit and get to work. You’ll bandage him up, make sure he’s not decompensating, and escape. No one’s faster than you in the water, and given that Shigaraki can’t swim, he’s not going to chase you if you go back in. You’ll warn someone, the League will be captured, and you can forget all about this. It’s fine. Everything is going to be –

“Hey, I found them!” Toga is hollering down from the top of the headland to your right. “The hero brought Tomura-kun to this beach instead of the other one. Tomura, are you okay?”

“It looks bad!” Twice announces. Then, to you: “Give him mouth-to-mouth. With tongue!”

“He’s conscious, breathing, and talking. He doesn’t need mouth to mouth,” you say. You hear this joke a lot, usually from guys whose friend you just saved, and it irks you. “And you don’t do mouth-to-mouth with tongue.”

“Hey! You can’t give Shigaraki substandard mouth-to-mouth just because he’s a villain!” Spinner’s arrived now, too. “What kind of hero are you?”

“The kind who’s trying to do my job,” you say. They’re distracting you, and you need to focus on Shigaraki, not in the least because he could kill you instantly if you make a mistake. You need to keep assessing. “Okay, you didn’t pass out. Did you swallow water at all? Or breathe any in?”

“I didn’t breathe it.” Shigaraki coughs, then grimaces, a flash of panic crossing his face. “Shit. I’m gonna hurl –”

He rolls to one side and vomits seawater into the sand, and you hold his hair back, mainly so you can keep it out of the head wound you’ve just cleaned. “See, he’s fine,” Dabi says from the headland. “Told you.”

“Are you sure he’s fine?” Spinner sounds like he’s thinking about pushing Dabi off the cliff. “Hey. Hero. Is he going to be fine?”

“I’m still assessing,” you caution. Shigaraki coughs a few times, then flops back into the sand. “So far, I’m not too worried, but –”

“Great! We’re going to be over there!” Toga points to the beach on the other side of the headland. “That’s where Mister Compress put all the fun stuff. See you soon, Tomura-kun!”

Most of the League vanishes without another word, but Spinner hangs on a little longer, glaring down at you. “Spinner,” Shigaraki says, his voice raspy, and Spinner looks towards him. “It’s fine. See you – over there.”

Spinner nods and leaves, which is a relief for you. Usually you aren’t that intimidated by guys in purple board shorts, but you usually haven’t been kidnapped by a gang of villains who are hovering over you, shouting bad advice. And you’ve got a different problem now – Shigaraki, who’d be intimidating no matter what he’s wearing. Maybe. He’s soaking wet, his clothes plastered to him, and he’s a lot skinnier than you thought he’d be. He’s looking at you expectantly. “Are you going to fix my head?”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You pick through your kit for an appropriately-sized waterproof bandage. “Hold still.”

To your surprise, Shigaraki does it, not even flinching when you move a few more strands of his wet hair away from his face. “Why’d you bring me here instead of the other beach?”

“It was a longer swim. I wanted to get you back on land as fast as possible.” You press the bandage down carefully, running your finger over the edge to make sure it seals properly. “Okay. All done.”

Shigaraki starts trying to sit up, and on instinct, you reach out to help, only realizing your mistake when Shigaraki flinches away. He barks a question at you before you can apologize. “How do I get to the other beach? Climb that thing?”

“No,” you say. “Those headlands aren’t stable, and, uh – you probably need both hands to climb. Both hands and all your – what?”

Shigaraki ignores you. He’s fumbling in the sand, patting down the pockets of his coat, and when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, panic descends over his features. “The hands,” he says, and your stomach lurches. “I lost them.”

“Um –” You don’t know what to say, and Shigaraki’s hands rise to claw at the sides of his neck. “If they’re a support item – I know it sucks to lose those, but you can probably get –”

“They’re my family’s hands. I can’t just get more!” Shigaraki’s starting to hyperventilate. “I need them –”

He shoves you to one side, gets unsteadily to his feet, and stumbles back towards the surf. You chase after him, thankful that your feet have mostly gone back to normal. “Hey. Where are you going?”

“I have to get them.” Shigaraki shakes you off when you catch his arm, and you grab him again. “Fuck you. Let me go!”

“You still can’t swim. If I let you go out there, you’ll drown.” You grit your teeth. You really, really don’t want to do this, but – “I can go look for them.”

Shigaraki blinks. “Huh?”

“I’ll swim you over to the other beach, and then I’ll look for them,” you repeat. “People ask me to find stuff they dropped all the time.”

You don’t mention that you usually say no, because it’s a waste of time when you’re supposed to be looking out for everyone on the beach. But it’s just Shigaraki here, and his breathing is starting to even out. “How are you supposed to find them? It’s the ocean.”

“They’re a little heavy, right? They’ll sink, and since I know how the currents work, I can figure out where they probably touched down.” You risk letting go of Shigaraki’s arm, breathing a sigh of relief when he doesn’t immediately bolt. “Come on. I’ll swim you over.”

“Are you going to put me in a headlock again?”

“Not if you promise not to grab me,” you say. He rolls his eyes. “I’m not kidding.”

“And I’m not stupid. If I kill you out there, I’ll drown.” Shigaraki lets one hand fall from his neck, then the other. “Swim me over. Now.”

You take a second to pack up your first-aid kit, then lead Shigaraki out into the water. You give the headland a wide berth, even though it means swimming more than a hundred yards out from the shore, but unlike last time, Shigaraki doesn’t question you. In fact, he doesn’t speak at all, except once. “Is that a –”

“Still a dolphin,” you say. The fin protruding from the water is rounded, and the snout that bumps against your hip is smooth and blunt. “Nothing to worry about.”

The entry to the other beach is smooth and easy. You can see why the League chose this one to hang out on – white sands, gentle waves, picturesque to the max. You hope they didn’t kill anyone to claim this beach for themselves. It looks familiar to you, but you can’t quite remember why, and you realize all at once that you don’t know where you are. Where is this place? How far away did they take you?

It doesn’t matter. You can swim to wherever you need to go, as soon as you dump Shigaraki off on the beach. And you don’t even have to take him all the way in – when they see him, Spinner and Twice come out to help. Shigaraki shrugs them off. “I’m fine.”

“Can you swim yet?” Twice asks. Shigaraki scoffs, and Twice turns on you. “You were supposed to teach him to swim!”

“I will,” you lie. “After I find the hands.”

“Ew,” Toga remarks from the beach, where she’s building a sandcastle. “You don’t need those, Tomura-kun. You feel better without them.”

Shigaraki ignores her and looks back to you. “You’ll find them.”

“Yeah.” You dive back into the water and swim for the other side of the headland. Maybe while you’re over there, you can come up with a plan.

There’s no way to get out of gathering up the hands. If you don’t, Shigaraki will go in to get them himself and drown, and you can’t call yourself a rescue hero if you’re willing to let someone die. You’ll find the hands, removing any incentive Shigaraki has to go back into the water, and then you’ll clear out. You can swim as far as you need to in order to find a populated beach, and once you do, you’ll be able to direct them back here to arrest the League. You track the current around the headland, noting that it forms a small vortex in a recessed area in the rocks. That’s where you’ll find Shigaraki’s hands. He said they were his family’s. What does that mean?

You figure out what it means, the second you find the first one. You pick it up out of the jagged rocks underwater and recoil, dropping it instantly. It’s not a model hand, like you thought when you saw him on TV. It’s a real, embalmed human hand, smaller than yours. It looks like it belonged to a little kid, and a surge of guilt travels through you, mixed in with frustration. You’re not the crazy one. Shigaraki’s the crazy one, for wearing his family’s embalmed hands all over himself all the time. It’s not weird at all for you to not want to touch a little kid’s embalmed hand.

But there’s something sad amidst the awfulness of it all, and whoever’s hand this was, it deserves better from you than just being pitched into the water because you got the ick. You retrieve it again, grimacing. Diving for embalmed hands is one thing, but the longer you stay underwater, the harder it becomes to resist your quirk’s transformation. The sooner you finish this, the better.

It takes you two trips to collect all the hands. Shigaraki wades out into the water to take them from you, but rather than putting them back on, he carries them past the high-tide line and dumps them in the sand. “You found all of them,” he says to you, and you nod. “I didn’t think you could do it.”

That’s neither a thank-you or a compliment, but you expect exactly none of that from a villain. And now’s your moment – Shigaraki’s up on the sand, the others are distracted, and nobody will be able to catch you once you cross the drop-off. “Stay out of the water,” you say, and as Shigaraki’s opening his mouth to respond, you turn and dive back in, swimming hard for the open sea.

This time, you let the transformation kick in, and it’s a relief. Each kick propels you through the water at speed, and you watch the seafloor fall away beneath you. You’ll swim a circuit of the island, figure out where you are, and take off. With luck, you’ll reach land way before the League decides to call cut on their beach episode.

In the water, with your transformation mostly complete, you can see everything, and although sound is muffled underwater, your dorsal and flank fins can pick up vibrations, giving you a heads-up for any sound or movement. But you don’t need your fins to pick up the flailing and thrashing that’s going on behind you. Someone’s in distress, and you have a bad feeling about who. You’re right. When you glance reluctantly over your shoulder, you find Shigaraki, just past the drop-off and sinking fast.

It’s not a question of what you’ll do next, no matter how frustrated you are. You breach the surface, suck down a new lungful of air, and swim back to shore.

The salt water must be stinging Shigaraki’s eyes, but he’s got them open, and when he sees you, they widen even further in shock. You know what he’s looking at, know that the natural response is to flinch back – but he doesn’t. Instead he reaches up for you. there’s nothing you can do but dodge his hands, wrap your arms around him, and pull him back to the surface for the third time today.

He’s gasping, coughing, but you don’t have the patience to wait for him to catch his breath. “Are you crazy? What was that about?” The answer occurs to you, and your frustration explodes. “Did you seriously try to drown yourself so I’d have to come back?”

“It worked,” Shigaraki says. You count to ten and remind yourself that you’re a rescue hero, just so you won’t drop him back in the water and let him sink. “You’re a rescue hero. You have to save people who need help. And I need help, so –”

“You’re going to keep drowning yourself so I can’t leave.”

“Or,” Shigaraki says, “you can teach me to swim.”

“I thought you didn’t want a swim lesson,” you say. “What changed your mind?”

“Seems like something I should know,” Shigaraki says. He shrugs. “And I’d be a dumbass to turn down swim lessons from a mermaid.”

You don’t like being called a mermaid, but at the same time, you know you’re not beating the allegations. When your quirk is fully activated, it transforms your legs into a long tail, complete with multiple sets of fins. It sprouts webbing between your fingers, lengthens your ears, changes the structure of your eyes. If you stayed under long enough, you’d probably sprout gills. You don’t look like a Disney mermaid, but mermaid is still what people see when they look at you when your quirk is on full blast. You’d never have let it get this far if you thought you might have to come back.

Shigaraki’s legs brush against one of your pectoral fins, and you clamp down on a shiver. This is why you never transform fully at work. Worse, you’re breaking protocol – you’re never supposed to hold victims face to face, and you’re definitely not supposed to let them wrap their arms around you like Shigaraki is doing right now. He’s getting weirdly familiar for somebody who’s so against being touched. “I’ll teach you to swim, and then what? You’ll let me go?”

“Maybe.” Shigaraki shrugs. “If you help me out, I won’t have a good reason to kill you.”

That might be the best you’ll get. For now. Once he knows how to float, you’re bailing out. “Fine. I’ll teach you.”

Shigaraki looks pleased. Not smug, like you’d expect – just pleased. “Okay. What do I do first?”

“Get back on land,” you say, “and find a swimsuit. I’m not teaching you in your clothes.”

Shigaraki’s suspicious at first, enough to remind you that he’ll just go over the drop-off if you try to escape again, and you react the same way he does when you remind him not to grab you. He heads up the beach, towards the surf shack Mr. Compress – the brown-haired guy you couldn’t place before – must have stolen. Meanwhile, you work on getting yourself out of the surf. Your quirk won’t start to deactivate until you’re clear of the water, and to teach a normal person to swim, it helps to be working with the same equipment as they are.

You use the waves as much as you can, but eventually it’s just you and the wet sand, and your tail is so heavy that you’re reduced to hauling out on the beach like a seal. It looks stupid. You look stupid, and all you can do is hope that the League of Villains is looking the other way. They aren’t. Shigaraki might be off looking for a swimsuit, but the other five are all staring your way.

It doesn’t take long for you to lose patience. “What?”

They ignore you. “I knew we grabbed the right one,” Toga says, gleeful. “We got Tomura-kun a mermaid!”

Dabi is nodding, a smirk on his face. “This is perfect. She’s gonna keep him busy all day long.”

“I’d be busy forever. Look how pretty her tail is –”

You flop back in the sand, staring up at the sky. Not only are you going to have to teach Shigaraki to swim, you’re going to have to do it while being stared at like you’re an animal in a zoo – and if you try to escape, Shigaraki will try to drown himself just to make you come back. This is going to be the worst beach episode ever. At least for you.

taglist: @deadhands69 @shigarakislaughter @handumb @cheeseonatower @lvtuss @xeveryxstarfallx @atspiss @warxhammer @stardustdreamersisi @shikiblessed @evilcookie5 @aslutforfictionalmen @dance-with-me-in-hell @agente707 @koohiii @minniessskii @baking-ghoul @boogiemansbitch @lacrimae-lotos @issaortiz @f3r4lfr0gg3r

[chamiryokuroi]

They truly don’t make things like they used to.

Yesterday I bought a dashcam because honestly we all should have one if we drive, as part of it I had to buy an SD card, when I got home and tested it, it would not record and show an SD card error, I thought “ah damn I will need to go back and change it”

Trying to make sure it is an SD card issue and not a camera issue I took some of my old SD cards to test and yeah with an old one the camera works (can’t use it because is less memory)

So having confirmed it is the SD card issue I was about to just package everything to go later and change it when I thought “Oh let me try the SD card on my old digital camera”

Why? Idk I just thought about it. As expected when I put it in shows a SD card issue… and then it shows a message “Want to format SD card? It will delete all existing data from camera, want to continue?”

It is currently running, and I am not sure if this will work, but just the fact that this camera from the early 2000s even has the option do this in an attempt to solve the problem, when the newest 4k camera I bought won’t even attempt to fix the issue, is enough to show how while technology “improves” it also downgrades on ways we usually don’t notice.