#but mostly I'm very sure now that I never want to be in a position where I cannot turn work down or walk away from a contract

[checanty]

Lol. I rarely check Facebook comments and just found out some guy has been doing some serious trolling under one of my posts (the words 'I want you to suffer' may have been typed), including getting increasingly pissed about how I wasn't responding to said trolling. Also, somebody has been reporting all my current Instagram posts for stuff, which is fine as I wasn't breaking any rules and the content moderators agree, but now I'm wondering whether this is connected. And then I'm wondering if this is an emotionally abusive ex-client having a meltdown. If so, I'm sorry dude, you've already thickened my skin. This can't shake me anymore. (also going semi-viral on Twitter. Best way of realizing people's behaviour is mostly about them and not about you)

[matteoberrettini]

bringing positivity for once: today at work i was told that my coworkers said i'm good at tutoring 🥹 and yesterday one coworker sent me a message himself thanking me for my tutoring 🥹 and then my therapist told me the others in this group thing i'm taking part in all like me 🥹😭😭

[dark-konohagakure2]

If you can, I'd like something dark with gaara and breeding, like a breeding program to preserve the best of his genes.

tw: dub/noncon, power imbalance, breeding, mild misogyny, mating press, domestication, rough sex

All characters depicted are 18+

Gaara has never given marriage and children much thought, he has his desires like any other man, but he largely suppresses them due to his busy life, but after Temari marries outside the village and has a son, a son that could one day become Kazekage, the demands for Gaara to have a child coming from the village elders get all the more frequent and insistent.

While Gaara already has a child, Shinki is his son by adoption, and the higher ups want a child of Gaara's own flesh and blood, initially Gaara doesn't really see the difference, to him blood doesn't define family, but he goes along with the demands regardless, albeit reluctantly.

When the fateful day comes and Gaara is to conceive his heir, he's initially reluctant and even somewhat nervous, a rare feeling for the stoic Kazekage, but when he actually sees the girl he's to breed with (who looks even more reluctant), Gaara's hesitancy fades away, he was worried he'd have to sleep with someone too young or too old, but when he sees that his partner is someone his age and beautiful, he starts to feel all the more eager.

He mostly ignores her cries as he gets on top of her, lifting her legs up next to her as he gets into a position that will ensure maximum deep penetration, but Gaara isn't heartless, and he'll reassure her if she's struggling and crying too much.

"Shhh, there now, it's okay. I'm sure you'll be a great mother for our children, I'm sure of it. Now stop struggling, or I might have to be more forceful."

Being both the Kazekage and a single father is very stressful job, and his rough thrusts will reflect his frustrations, his cock ramming down into her fertile cunt hard and fast, leaving her whimpering and quivering underneath the stoic redhead.

Gaara doesn't understand why she isn't enjoying it, he was under the impression that girls liked it rough, but she isn't liking it at all, in all his inexperience he wrongly believes that he's not being rough enough with her, and that's why she doesn't like it, so he'll pound into her even harder in response.

Once he finally does cum inside of her, which doesn't take too long due to his sexual sensitivity, Gaara makes sure that he's cumming directly into her womb, his body weight pressed fully down on hers as he groans quietly, his pent up seed filling up her insides.

Gaara won't stop his efforts to breed her even after he finishes inside her for the first time, he wants to ensure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he gets her knocked up, both to satisfy the demands of the elders and for his own desires, so he's going to cum inside of her until he can't anymore.

"There we go, good girl... You'll be a great mother, and a good wife too... Now, time for round two, I want my Shinki to have a lot of siblings..."

Gaara makes a mental note to sign some marriage papers as soon as he's finished, he initially thought that all he had to do was cum inside of her and be done with it, but he's found himself quite smitten with the woman underneath him, and plans to act on his newfound affection by making her his permanently.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Always the bridesmaid never the bride

I'm not going to lie. I forgot if this was a prompt or a response to something I posted since I got it back before Thanksgiving. But if it's the former then:

Danny says this to Bruce at Clark and Lois' wedding. He is convinced Bruce is in love- or in lust, at the least- with Clark because the wealthy man constantly popped up at their office for important "business" and "private exclusive" interviews.

Now, Danny won't lie and say he's a better journalist than Clark or Lois- those two are the top two of the Daily Planet. There is a reason almost all Superman stories are covered by them- but he's darn good himself. After retiring from protecting his town from Ghosts, he's only ever used his powers scarcely, but they have helped him with a few articles here or there.

His career as a reporting journalist was mainly made by his ability to stumble across trouble alone! Danny had won awards for his articles. He has been included in a city time capsule project.

Danny got the scoop on Jason Todd being alive story way before everyone else. After realizing the boy was in witness protection, he hadn't even exposed it without speaking to Mr.Wayne first. The man was nothing like the tabloids had one believe. Danny found him a severely intelligent man with a deep love for his family and city. He just distracted people with his razzle and dazzle, hiding his beautiful soul in plain sight.

It had been an eye-opening conversation. The duo made a deal to wait until Jason was safe to be announced; Danny waited three whole months before he was greenlighted to release his story. Jason Todd had officially "returned" from the dead with an exclusive interview with Danny Fenton.

Danny honored and protected his dignity by writing a story that made the public love the returned young man. He hated reporters who only dragged people's names through the mud because that wasn't real investigation; that was just accepting the latest gossip on the streets.

Bruce was so grateful that Danny hadn't put his son in danger that he even gave Danny a business card that went to his home office!

And yeah, okay, Clark had Bruce's personal cellphone, but Danny just couldn't understand why the billionaire was so hung up on Clark Kent. It wasn't like the guy was Superman!

And maybe he was overly happy to find out Clark and Lois were an item. Sure that someone as good as Bruce, for all his facade of being a party boy who never grew up, would never chase a taken man. Danny had been right, too, because Bruce Wayne appeared less and less around the Daily Plant office.

It was.....sad not to see him, but Danny was a very busy journalist. He was grateful that the distraction had finally taken the hint and scurried off somewhere. What irked him in the following year and a half of Clark and Lois dating was how often Perry signed the two to cover Gotham News.

Mostly at one of Bruce Wayne's extravagant parties! Yeah, it was sort of cool that most of Bruce's parties were charity events. He had checked the numbers himself, finding that Bruce's efforts were honest and working to better his city. How many billionaires actually kept their word when wanting to be a philanthropist?

Of course, Danny had to write a piece on it. The people needed to see the positive change Bruce was making. Sometimes, it felt like people forgot how much he gave to the city. The article went viral, and people on the other side of the world were praising the good man Bruce.

Perry had given Danny a raise for it.

Clark had ruined that significant mark on his record by placing a wrap present on his desk with a wide grin. Apparently, the two had gone on a yacht trip together without Lois or Bruce's significant other. Whoever that was. "Bruce wanted me to give you this as a thanks."

Ugh, the smug asshole was just rubbing it in Danny's face that he was still friends with his ex. The present had been a shitty ship in a bottle that Danny had placed beside his writing awards in his living room. You know it would be a waste to just throw it out.

Or let it get dusty. Or not stare at and wonder if Bruce knew he liked pirate movies, so the fact he had a model replica of Captain Jack Sparrow's Black Pearl made for Danny was really no big deal.

Then Bruce came by the office after buying out the Daily Planet, giving Clark a month's vacation paid due to some "family emergency."

Danny had been worried about Ma Kent and Pa Kent- the pair had visited the Daily Planet and were the nicest people to ever walk the planet- so like the well-mannered man his mother raised, he had gone to the farm with some of his Dad's famous fudge. Only to find the Kents unaware there was an emergency in the family until Danny reminded them.

He had been a journalist long enough to call bull on their meaningful glances. Danny knew that neither Bruce nor Clark would dare cheat on Lois. They were both too good for something as sleazy as that- and honestly, Lois would kill them- but that didn't stop Bruce from obviously still carrying around a torch for Clark.

Which meant he gave him unfairly favorable treatment in the workplace. Ugh! Perry didn't even seem to care, stating that Bruce had signed their paychecks, and as long as he wasn't forcing Clark into anything harassment-worthy, Danny just had to deal with his coworkers having friends in high places.

That meant they got away with different things. He just had to suck it up and accept it.

But now, Clark and Lois tied the knot. Bruce had to back off. He would never overstep a friend's relationship like this. Danny might have seen him sneak a few glances at the dancing couple- not that he was staring at Bruce Wayne! But the man was one of the hottest topics to write about, and he never knew when a good story would pop up.

It was rather sad, really. How Bruce forced himself to come to a celebration of the man he loved marrying and choosing someone else. Danny had dedicated a drink to his heartbreak- from clear across the room.

He wasn't on a personal cellphone number basis with Bruce Wayne, let's allow a "Drink your broken heart sorrow away with me" basis. And maybe Danny had a few too many. Perhaps he lost count after realizing it was an open bar because, surprise surprise, Bruce was footing the drink bill for all guests.

Danny doesn't remember what made him think he could cross the room to Bruce or why he found the courage to point a finger in his face before slurring, "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, eh Brucie?"

He does remember those piecing blue eyes locking him in place, brow folding in concern as Bruce replied. "Mr. Fenton, are you alright?"

"Me? Oh yeah! Just enjoying the party." He throws his arm up, spilling some of the alcohol out of the cup. He doesn't mind since the DJ starts to play one of his favorite songs, and he just has to sway to the beat. "This is a fun party. Are you having fun? I'm having fun!"

"I think you've had a little too much," Bruce says, helping Danny to his feet. When did he fall? Oh, right, when he was dancing. He laughs again, curling up on Bruce's chest. He feels it shift with the vibrations of the other man's voice. It's rather nice. "Did you come alone? Is there someone I can call for you?"

"Can I tell you a secret, Brucie?" Danny mutters, leaning forward to whisper into the man's ear before he can respond. "I live alone. I have no one to take care of me. I can't even drive."

"I see. I can have my driver take you home then. Can I see your wallet? I want to read the address-"

Danny has a second to think Oh no before his stomach lurches, and vomit falls out of his mouth all over Bruce Wayne's fancy suit that probably costs more than his house. Danny's eyes water. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't usually drink, and I feel terrible, and I-"

"It's alright. " Bruce says, smile still perfectly kind, understanding, and slightly dizzy. Danny knows he's lying, though- his reporter eyes can see right through that facade. He's pissed that Danny threw up on him. Understandably.

He starts sobbing, apologizing even more, and pointing out how he knows Bruce is actually upset.

Bruce looks mildly surprised before throwing one of his arms over his shoulder and helping him out of the hotel ballroom. The reception had started hours ago, and despite it not being anywhere near over, no one would bat an eye at them leaving early.

They were walking down the hallway. Danny found himself leaning on a counter, laughing into his hands about a potted plant, while Bruce chatted up the lady at a computer. He told the pair that Bruce should rebound with a man instead of a woman if he wanted to get over Clark but was ignored by them.

Rude.

Then suddenly, Danny was being pressed into a soft mattress on his back while someone was taking off his shoes and losing his tie. When did he get home? How had he moved that quickly?

This didn't feel like his pillow. Danny has a special one. He can't sleep with it. He packs his pillow when he travels, even if it's just one night he plans to stay. Danny has used the same pillow for years now.

"I'm sorry, I can't get your special pillow, but I can give you lots of water." A man says, making Danny blink and open his eyes. His eyelids feel so heavy that it takes him a moment to stay open.

Above him, Bruce is carefully unbuttoning his suit jacket. The billionaire had removed his own coat, but the vomit-covered white shirt remains. Danny feels ashamed at the sight even as Bruce pulls his arms out of the jacket sleeves.

"Sorry," He whimpers. "About the vomit."

"It's alright. You needed to throw up. Do you feel better?"

Danny nods, closing his eyes and feeling a warm towel run along his face. He sighed as the sticky, gross feeling around his mouth was gone, and he sank further into the Not Right But Comfty pillow.

"Sleep well, Mr. Fenton," Bruce says, tucking the blankets around Danny once he finishes cleaning him up. Danny hums, already half gone, when he whispers.

"You're a good man. No matter what you present to the world. No matter if you believe you're not, I know you're good."

There is a moment of silence before Bruce replies. "I paid for the hotel room. It comes with a free breakfast, so when you're feeling up to it, come down for food tomorrow. Have a good night, Mr. Fenton."

"Stay?"

"I'm sorry. I never intended to stay; I just wanted to get you somewhere safe. Going home in your state would have been a bad idea."

Danny's words are nearly too slurried to be understood as he slowly slips away: "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride, Fenton. Bruce would never want you."

He wakes up with a killer hangover, confused about where the hell he is, and almost has a heart attack when he realizes he crumpled up the suit pants he rented. All that is so hard to process in thirty seconds that he nearly missed the written note on the nightstand.

Call me xxx-xxx-xxxx

XOXO

Bruce Wayne

What in the world happened at Clark's and Lois's wedding!?

[bodhrancomedy]

Guess who's on TV!

(Well, iPlayer until the 15th, that's when it airs on BBC One)

Hope Street episode 3.11, let's go!

First of all, I'd say they did me dirty with this picture, but my university ID was exponentially worse.

Onto the spoilers!

Our boy Matthew has arrived in Port Devine, looking a little concerned.

For good reason when he's suddenly confronted by this lad, Dara.

Ah, a fight which Matthew escapes by slipping out of his coat. (Pretty sure this is the take where we ripped it practically in two...)

Dara's questioned, he claims he's never met Matthew in his life. Hmm.

Police do some investigating (and some character stuff) before Dara makes his way to Matthew's mother (Louise)'s house to have a wee showdown.

They both in a gang and Matthew's stolen a gun. Dara needs to get it back...

Matthew's nay having it. "This is my way out. If they want the gun back, they have to let me go."

Another fight. The gun goes off! (Poor Pete and I were convinced after take one to put some padding on. My arm looks bulky because I'm strapped up with squishy stuff and allergic to plasters so it has to be in a sock)

Thank fuck no one was hurt. Dara gets the hell out of dodge -

Leaving Matthew to contemplate his mortality. And other people's, but mostly his own.

"Oh fuck, my bosses are gonna find me and murder me, oh shit. I'm far too young and pretty to die!"

Time for Matthew and Louise to follow Dara's example and get the fuck out of here.

The police are now on the Halbridges' trail, but they discover the phone tracking them and leave it in a field.

Meanwhile, Dara's been arrested for drug dealing. He refuses to talk, clearly nervous.

Ah, what's this on Dara's phone? So Matthew and Dara have been in a relationship for over a year now.

(The poor intimacy coordinator having to walk me through my just about second kiss in my entire life. And the third. And the fourth. And the fifth... Pete is a very sweet person. Made it all funny.) ("Relax your hand, Bodh. Just relax it. Open - open your fingers, just let me position your hand.")

They're both working for the same gang. Matthew was given the gun to hold onto by their bosses' and freaked out, running away with the weapon. His plan was to trade his freedom for the gun, but Dara was sent to get it back for the Brazier Brothers, notorious drug runners and gang leaders.

These guys.

Unfortunately, now Dara's had to tell the Brazier Brothers that Matthew is refusing. They're going to kill Matthew and then Dara. Oh no.

But Dara has an idea where they might be hiding.

At the caravan there's a standoff between the police and Halbridges. But when the Braizer Brothers are arrested, they're convinced to come out.

(Side note, my favourite picture of me, ever.)

Oh no, the Halbridges are going to jail and Matthew's regretting his life choices.

Matthew walked off to his new life inside a jail cell.

The end.

(This is where Niall Wright accidently sublexed my shoulder. To be fair to the man, I'd never mentioned it and he took his finger sliding in-between bone like a champ)

Look, it's me!! I was on TV! Bit sad they cut pretty much all the uses of SSE (weren't allowed BSL because we still had to speak the lines), but I got to be queer and Deaf so that's pretty nice.

[doberbutts]

The rise of acceptable anti-blackness is everywhere, and leftists have insidious way of positioning black bodies and black communities as regressive, monsterous, and in need of guidance. I'm finding it works the exact same way as the neo-nazi pipeline. They ask "genuine questions," that ultimately serve to gather an audience, shift through the ramble for supporters, and fan the flames of fascism. All their questions already have a (bigoted) answer. It's a recruitment strategy:

"Why are black southerners homophobic, but vote Democrat?"

"Why is rap music so sexist?"

"Shouldn't black people know better than to be sexist/transphobic/homophobic?"

These are actual questions I've seen. I'm stumped at what to do about it.

It comes, unfortunately, with being a hypervisible marginalization.

Black people are not allowed to just be. We are required to do so much more than just exist in order to get basic respect and acknowledgement as fellow human beings.

My new manager (a black man) and I were just joking about this- he was complaining that my clinic which is now majority white due to some serious workplace drama (previously was majority Puerto Rican) had some very drying soaps and chemicals we clean with but an ancient mostly empty bottle of hand lotion and how he'd have to fix that. I made a joke about being ashy and we had a giggle about making sure to moisturize the hands, knees, ankles, and elbows especially in a customer-facing job where you are expected to look presentable, clean, professional, well-groomed, always wearing crisp and freshly laundered clothes, and of course your best customer service smile and polite language.

And it's not to say that that isn't true of everyone who works there- but I do find it interesting that one of the white women who work there can show up with frizzy hair and be fighting with the humidity all day and be fine, but I have been Spoken To in this profession for my hair looking "sloppy" and "dirty" while wearing it in a natural style, freshly done up and with products in it. Not at this specific job, but within this career.

Our margin for error is much narrower than others- and our ability to be seen as individuals instead of as a hive mind is even less. Every single person asked me about the Kendrick Superbowl thing- I don't watch football and I don't listen to Kendrick as a general rule (if I'm listening to rap 99% of the time I'm listening to black women and not men because often I like their sound and lyrics better) so it took me several days to even watch the thing. But every white person out there made sure to ask me how I felt about it.

I'm always willing to discuss the Problems in the black community in an open and honest light, but I find I'm less willing to discuss them if I don't feel like the question is coming from a place of wanting to understand and more like the question is coming from a place of ignorance and/or racism. I talk about these things with my white friends sometimes- my white friends who have never given me weird vibes about race and who often are of marginalized experience themselves (and sometimes highly visible marginalized experience such as my Jewish friends and my trans fem friends!) - but a random ask I am less inclined as I do not think that person is actually wanting to understand the answer to such a short question with such a nuanced and complicated reason.

[moonknightly]

eight fingers crossed—

poe dameron x gn!reader

word count: 1.4k ish

rating and warnings: rated t for injuries/burns, poe is worried that you're going to get yourself killed but this is otherwise tame and mild

summary: “one of these days, i’m not going to be fast enough. i’m not going to make it to you in time.”

notes: @poetic-solo wouldn't let me post this until she read it i'm a prisoner in my own home-

get notified when i post a new fic here *:･ﾟ✧:*

There’s a dull ache on your right side that starts to pull you from your sleep. You instantly know that you’re in your bed—you can hear the soft hum of the fan you insist on keeping in the bedroom. But it’s otherwise silent throughout your quarters, save for the rhythmic sounds of your own breathing. 

You can’t open your eyes yet to confirm if you’re alone. You try, but they’re just so heavy and honestly, with the pain growing stronger, you want nothing more than to fall back asleep. The medicine running through your veins is wearing off, you’re sure. 

This isn’t the first time you’ve woken up. You know enough to know that you’re hurt, and you also know that you won’t have to suffer through the pain long. Poe will be around shortly with another round of meds and bacta from the infirmary.

But you can’t remember what landed you in this position, not exactly at least. You’d been flying low on a planet in the outer rim when a swarm of pirates surrounded the squadron, and you’d been grossly outnumbered. The dogfight that ensued was mostly blurry at this point. You only know that you’ve been confined to your own bed and reliant on drugs to ease your pain for…you’re not even sure how long, really. 

More time passes as you try and try to pull anything from your memories, any little crumb that might be tucked away. 

The pain is getting worse, turning from a dull ache to a raging fire. It distracts you, keeps you from reaching those locked away thoughts. A cry catches in the back of your throat and you can finally open your eyes.

Poe is sitting at the very end of the bed with a syringe in hand, ready to push it through your IV like the medic taught him. But he doesn’t move. He’s just watching you, a deep frown etched into his handsome features. You’re sure you are wearing one to match.

You’re both quiet—it’s obvious that there’s something on his mind, something he needs to say, and you’re not sure if you want to hear it. He’s never looked so upset with you, borderline heartbroken. Suddenly any pain you were in didn’t come close to what was moving through his big brown eyes. It couldn’t even compare. 

He breaks the silence first.

“One of these days,” he starts, his voice cracking, shattering you further. “I’m not going to be fast enough. I’m not going to make it to you in time.” 

The pain is tearing through your side now, but that’s not what brings tears to your eyes. “Poe-”

“I thought you were dead. You were on fire when I pulled you-”

It’s slowly starting to come back to you. Five ships, all larger than your X-Wings, all locked on Poe. Jumping in front of him, putting yourself between him and the danger and taking them out one by one. The two fighters that had been tracking you that you never saw shoot. Crashing to the ground, everything erupting around you. 

You remember the heat. You remember feeling it creep closer and closer as you dangled in your seat, hanging upside down by your seatbelt. You remember when the flames first licked at your skin. The way that you screamed. 

And then you were flat on your back, and the fire had stopped spreading but Maker did it still burn where it had already charred your skin. You remember Poe’s voice, frantic and full of panic, even louder than it is now. 

“-and you’re not even listening to me!”

Poe never raises his voice at you, never at you. It catches you off guard. You want that medicine more than ever. The way he’s looking at you makes you want to melt into the sheets. 

“I was just trying to keep you safe,” you whisper quietly, sounding almost broken. Your bottom lip trembles and you can see Poe’s shoulders sag as some of the fight leaves his body—he’s not mad at you, not really. He’s just scared, and he’s not used to feeling this way. 

“You cannot risk yourself like that for me.” His voice is low, still dripping with a bit of anger that you’re trying not to let sting. “Not again. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought I’d have to carry your body home.”

He’s right. It wasn’t the first time. But-

“You can’t expect me to sit there and watch you get taken out when I can do something about it.”

“I can’t watch you die-”

“Tell me you wouldn’t do the same for me and I’ll stop. Tell me that you don’t.”

Poe goes silent. He knows he can’t tell you that truthfully. You know it too, and you dare him to lie to you. 

But he never says anything, and you’re too heated to let the moment fade. 

“Do you really think I haven’t noticed how you’ve assigned me the perfect spot in formation for you to always cut in front of me when we’re under attack?”

“You’re my second, of course that’s where I’m going to put-”

“No, don’t blame it on ranks. You know that’s not what it is, you know that if Jess or Snap or-”

“I’m your Commander,” he finally snaps, effectively cutting you off and holding your gaze steady, begging you to fold first. “It’s my job to make sure you make it home.”

“I don’t give a damn if you’re the General, you’re my husband first,” you counter immediately, refusing to be the one to back down. “We made a commitment to each other.”

Poe sighs, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. But you’re not done.

“And if you do want to put it all on rankings, yeah, you are my Commander. And it’s my job to keep your six so you don’t end up dead. Or worse.”

Poe doesn’t ask what you mean, he already knows. You’re the only person besides Leia he’s confided in about his time on the Finalizer, the torture he’d endured under Kylo’s hand. You are the only person who has heard him scream in the middle of the night, the only one he lets hold him when he falls into a panic attack and cries. The only one who is able to remind him he’s safe and not having his mind torn apart, because his fucking panic attacks feel like Kylo’s digging through his brain.

You’re not sure there’s middle ground for you here. You tell him as much.

“I can’t do what you’re asking me to do, baby,” you mumble. “I can’t sit back and watch you get killed.”

He’s still quiet, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He knows he’s being a hypocrite. He knows he would face a firing squad for you any day of the week. 

But he still fucking hates it, so he hangs his head and sighs to let you know as much. But he doesn’t push, for once he doesn’t become insufferable until he gets what he wants.

The pain in your side flares, and another whimper tries to escape you at the random surge that shoots through you. Your discomfort seems to kick Poe into action. 

“Here baby, I’ll make it go away,” he whispers gently, pushing himself up from his seat. He pulls the cap off the syringe as he walks to you, tapping out the air bubbles like he’d seen the medic do. He pushes the medicine through your IV port slowly, knowing he doesn’t have long before you’re pulled back into unconsciousness. He sets the syringe back down once it’s empty and pushes his fingers through your hair.

“Will you stay?” you mumble, reaching for his free hand, wanting nothing more than to intertwine your fingers with his.

He nods, locking your hands together, eight fingers crossed. “Baby, I haven’t left.”

You’re under again within a minute or two, pulled back into the darkness where nothing hurts and you can rest. Poe waits until you’re unconscious to apply the bacta to your side, his fingers gentle against your melted skin that’s looking better and better by the day.

“I just need you to stay too.”

[inkedinshadows]

Red or Black

Pairing: Azriel × Cassian's sister!Reader

Summary: Cassian insists on helping his sister out when she needs to choose an outfit for a date.

Warnings: brief allusions to sex

Word count: 908

A/N: I was watching Friends, so of course this silly little blurb happened. If you're a fan of the show, you probably already know where this is going 👀

You had a date with Azriel tonight, and you didn't know what to wear.

You two had been going out together for a few months now, and you were both smitten with each other. You were sure things would become more serious very soon. But for now, your time together consisted mainly of dates that usually resulted in spending the night with him. You would mostly cuddle until you fell asleep, but a few times, cuddles had led to discarded clothes, heavy sighs and pleasure like you had never felt before.

You wanted tonight to be one of those times, and you wanted to look alluring and sexy. You wanted to feel alluring and sexy.

But you couldn't decide which lacy slip to wear under your dress to surprise Azriel when he'd take it off, so you picked up both options and walked out of your room to ask the most fashionable person you knew for advice.

Mor was lounging on a couch in the living room and you smiled at your friend.

“I really need your opinion about something,” you said as a way of greeting.

She sat up straighter, her brows raising, but when you stepped through the doorway, you noticed your brother sprawled over the armchair. You quickly hid the slips behind your back.

“Hi, Cass.” You gave him an awkward smile. “I didn't know you were already home.”

He shrugged. “I came back earlier and I thought I'd wait for Rhys here.”

“Yeah, yeah, always talking about yourself, Cassian,” Mor chimed in, waving a hand in the air to dismiss him. She turned to you with a smile. “What do you need my opinion on?”

You glanced at your brother. He was looking at you expectantly, no idea of what you were struggling with.

You backed away a step. “Maybe you could come into my room and we can talk?”

She nodded, already rising from her seat, but Cassian leaned forward in his chair. “Oh, come on, Y/N. I'm your brother. You don't want my opinion?”

You clutched the undergarments behind your back with one hand while grabbing Mor's wrist with the other to drag her out of the room.

“Not really, no,” you replied quickly. “But thanks, Cass.”

“Y/N, you're my little sister. What can you possibly need that I can't help you with?”

Mor was snickering now, probably having seen what you were trying to hide by her new position at your side. You felt terribly awkward and embarrassed, but you knew Cassian wouldn't let it go easily and a part of you wanted to make him feel just as embarrassed.

“Alright, big brother,” you made sure your words were dripping with sarcasm, which made him frown.

You let go of Mor's hand and held up the two slips for him to see. One was red, with some intricate swirling patterns, but still the most revealing thing you had ever bought. The other one was black, much simpler and just as see-through as the first one.

“Which one of these should your little sister wear,” you went on, watching as his eyes went wide with shock, “so that your best friend would want to do her?”

Cassian looked away and leaned back in his chair, his face contorted into a scowl as he muttered, “The red one.”

You chuckled at his reaction, and while normally you would crack a joke and go up to him to kiss his cheek, right now was probably not the best moment. Especially because Mor reached out to study the lingerie you had displayed, and you waited patiently for her input on the matter.

“I never thought I'd say this, but I agree with Cassian.” Her fingers brushed the thin fabric. “Actually, you have to tell me where you bought it. No one could resist this.”

You smiled as you looked down at the small piece of clothing. Red was your color, you knew that. It complimented your skin tone and your hair. But you were leaning more toward the black one, thinking that maybe Azriel would prefer it.

“You sure?” you questioned. “The red one?”

Mor nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, absolutely. Azriel won't be able to keep his hands off you. He—”

“Oh, yes, Mor. Please go on.”

You both turned to your brother, now glowering at you from his seat.

“I mean it, Mor. Go on,” he grumbled. “Tell us exactly what Azriel would do to my sister. Pretend I'm not here. Don't let my presence bother you, I'm begging you.”

Even as heat rose to your cheeks, you bit your lip to keep from smiling at his tone. He did have a point, though. While you might be comfortable talking about these things with Mor, and Cassian might imagine you and Azriel were past chaste kisses, you definitely didn't want to discuss what happened behind closed doors with him. He was still your big brother.

“Anyway, thanks guys.” You offered one last smile as you began to walk out. “I'm going to get ready now.”

When Azriel knocked on the front door an hour later, Mor and Cassian were still in the sitting room, Rhys now with them. Your friends wished you a nice evening, but your brother refused to even look in your direction and opted to glare at the wall with his arms crossed.

Luckily, Azriel didn't seem to notice or care as you took his hand and followed him outside.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @andreperez11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate

[12raccoonsinadress]

Hi! So I'd like to request a Tenya Iida x Fem! Reader fic. Where the reader is friends with Tenya until Tenya walks in on Reader getting dressed and it leads to smut and fluff after?

Sensible Choices: Tenya x Fem!Reader (Smut)

Woo! Here's the longest one I've done in a while! Hope it was worth the wait ~💚

Art Cred: Ari Libella (arilibella.artstation.com)

Word Count: 5,280

Third POV

Tenya and you made very good friends. In a world where things were so confusing and uncertain, where nearly everyone had some society altering ability and villains could attack at any time, he made sense. To you, he was uncomplicated. You both valued things like routine, education, and wanting the world to be a safer place. So to others, the two of you being together was a very logical idea, even if only as friends and colleagues. You never really assessed how you felt about Tenya, leaving those thoughts to poke at you when you laid in bed at night, but still left ignored. He was one of your closest friends, and you wouldn't ruin that over what you deemed a silly crush. You couldn't handle the idea of him turning you down and losing him as a friend. He was too integrated into your routine.

Part of your weekly routine was studying with Tenya in your dorm on Friday evenings between dinner and curfew. Responsible as always, he made sure to have his things and be out at least 30 minutes before curfew started, just in case you needed to do anything before bed. Tonight was another one of those useful, but otherwise unnoteworthy study sessions. The two of you mostly worked on your math homework, tackling some of the more tricky lessons in the coming week's test. Between the two of you, it started to make sense.

As you closed the textbook for the evening, you stood up, stretching.

"It looks like it's getting late."

You noted. He checked his watch, closing his textbook as well.

"It seems so. I suppose I should be heading out then."

He stood now as well, gathering his things. You watched as he did, humming slightly.

"You'll have to let me know what you score on the test."

"I'm sure we'll both do well."

He said, turning to you with a smile.

"And if not, we can always go back and review what we missed."

You smiled too. He was so positive when it came to school work, it was a bit infectious. You usually didn't feel too strongly about homework or testing, but he still managed to make the entire thing seem more satisfying to you. You couldn't remember a time before him where you actually looked forward to studying.

He went over to your door, turning back once, briefly.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Y/n. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Tenya."

You felt a slight warmth in your chest as he stepped out. His smile was so sweet. It always filled you with such nice feelings. You didn't choose to dwell on that too much longer though. Instead, you turned your attention to changing into your pajamas and getting ready for bed. You went to your dresser, pulling out your pajamas, laying them neatly on the bed before beginning to undress.

Tenya was hardly halfway to his dorm when he reached for his phone and realized he didn't have it. He didn't think much of it, other than that he must've left it sitting on your desk. He turned heel and began back to your dorm.

Tenya was mostly sure his feelings for you were platonic, no different from the ways he thought about Ochako or Izuku. Then again, he never caught himself wondering how soft Ochako's lips were, or feel a swell of pride in his chest when making Izuku laugh. These things seemed specific to you. He tried to ignore it for the most part. After all, he was your friend, and you were his. His prettiest, most intelligent, and sweetest friend. Nothing more. At least, that's what he told himself.

It didn't register that more than a moment had passed between him closing the door and opening it again, which is probably why it didn't even cross his mind to knock before entering your room.

"Y/n, it seems I left my..."

His voice died in his throat as he saw you. How could it not have? You were standing there, topless, in nothing more than your panties, sleep shirt in hands. His eyes grew wide and his face turned red, mirroring the expression on your own face. The door quickly slammed shut, but it was too late. He'd seen you, nearly naked, and that brief moment was all it took for the image to be burned into his mind.

You quickly got dressed, nearly tripping over yourself as you did. You couldn't believe it. He saw you practically naked. It made your entire body flush red with embarrassment. You wanted to simply die in that moment, just so you'd never have to face him again. You wondered what in the world he could be thinking now. And the slightly dirtier thought, creeping into your mind from the pits of your stomach, you wondered what he thought about what he saw.

He stood on the other side of your door for a long moment, holding it shut as if it would somehow hold his own mind at bay. His first thought was noting how beautiful your body was, immediately followed by a heavy feeling of shame in even indulging the thought. It was completely inappropriate and he shouldn't entertain such devious things. He left to his dorm, not willing to attempt a second retrieval of his phone. He didn't need it badly enough to face you right now. He closed himself in his dorm and sat on the edge of his bed for a long moment, silently. The first thing he'd have to do when he saw you again would be to beg for forgiveness for barging in. And if you were so upset you didn't want to talk to him, it was completely warranted and he'd take any repercussions without argument. He should have knocked. Without question.

Though against his own will, he laid awake that night thinking about you.

Aside from getting his phone back, you and Tenya avoided each other for the following days. Neither of you really knew how to address what had happened, but at the same time it was too awkward to talk without addressing it. The week felt like a year. Occasionally, you'd glance over at him in class, and almost every time you'd see him look away from you. You quickly looked back to the front of the room or at your work, trying not to think too much about why he could be staring. Maybe he was trying to think about how to talk to you again. Maybe he wanted to apologize, but wasn't sure how. ... Maybe he was undressing you with his eyes.

It was getting harder to ignore your crush on Tenya. It was like the more you avoided one another, the more you longed for him. You wanted to imagine he liked what he saw. So much that he couldn't bare to face you. It sounded silly in your mind, and yet the thoughts ebbed into your day dreams more and more as the week went on. If only you knew how right you were.

He'd essentially fashioned his own personal hell by seeing you naked. He couldn't find the right way to apologize to you, so he had to avoid talking to you until he did. He didn't want to lie to you either. Your body was beautiful, but he couldn't say that. He wished he could have seen you under more consensual circumstances, but he definitely couldn't say that. Even with all the attempts to come up with a good apology, he couldn't stop imagining it. Imagining you standing there in those cute little panties and nothing else. It made evenings... difficult to say the least. He wouldn't touch himself though. No matter how much he ached for some kind of relief. As your friend, as someone who respects you so much, he couldn't touch himself while imagining your body. Not without permission. Which he was most certain he didn't have.

Soon enough, but also what felt like twelve years later, it was Friday evening. You paced. Now is when you and Tenya would be studying together. It was almost impossible for you to focus on studying on your own when all you could think about was how incomplete it felt. This wasn't the routine. It was all wrong. You couldn't study in these conditions. You were just about to text him when you heard a knock on your door. You went and opened it.

There before you was a very nervous Tenya, his backpack held by his side. He wouldn't look at you.

"If you aren't busy, I think we need to talk. I also brought my school work, in case you'd rather study instead."

He said, almost uncomfortable. You let him in and he looked at you now, expectant. As much as you wish things could be normal and the two of you could just go over the test from that week, you knew it was time to talk about what happened.

"We should probably talk.."

He walked in, saw you, and left. It didn't feel like you could say much about it personally to start the conversation. Thankfully, you didn't have to. He dropped his bag on the floor before bowing about as deeply as he could without dropping to his knees.

"I'm so incredibly sorry, Y/n! I didn't even think to knock at the time, but that is absolutely no excuse for barging in on you! If you feel it necessary to report me for my inappropriate behavior, I'll accept whatever punishment I am given with no argument!"

You looked at him wide eyed for a moment, surprised by the sudden outburst. You expected an apology, but it hadn't even crossed your mind to report him.

"Tenya, I'm not going to report you. It was an accident."

He looked up now, standing upright again. He looked almost panicked or confused.

"What? Surely you don't think such unbecoming behavior is appropriate."

"I mean, it wasn't polite to not knock and, um, it was sort of embarrassing for me, but it wasn't really inappropriate."

This didn't seem to make him relax. If anything it seemed like he got more tense in response.

"You don't understand. I saw you naked-"

You blushed, not getting why he was being so insistant.

"You don't need to remind me-"

"I shouldn't have seen you like that. It was private. I should be punished for the way it's made me think about you."

The words seemed to rush out faster than he could process them, but once they were out, he froze. He hadn't meant to say that much, but you were being so calm, so sweet. Such a good friend. Too good for they way he'd imagined holding your bare body against his.

"What do you mean by that, Tenya?"

He swallowed hard, looking at the floor, ashamed. He was a horrible friend. You deserved to know that. He was a pervert, and you should be able to report him as such.

"I... I haven't been able to purge the image of you from my mind. It's all I've been able to think about. I wish I had found a way of telling you how beautiful you were before this."

His fists clenched, head still hung in shame. You blushed. He was admitting to having fulfilled your smutty little desires. He had been thinking about your body. He wanted it. He continued, his voice more tense.

"Anything I say now will be tainted by the countless filthy thoughts I've had of you. Between my perverted day dreams, I've only just realized how much I care for you, not only as my friend, but as the person I want to wake to every morning and fall asleep beside every night. Not just because of how beautiful you are, but because this week has been torture without you by my side."

You stepped closer to him, only to see he had tears in his eyes. It made your heart ache. You reached up and held his face.

"I don't deserve your sweetness. Not after proving I'm such a terrible friend. If you can't trust me now, why would you ever even begin trust me as a lover?"

Lover. He was so tense, even compared to how tense he normally was. You couldn't imagine what this week had done to him with all this guilt. He was practically falling apart, and for what? Accidentally seeing you naked? So you did what any logical person would do in your situation. You kissed him. It was soft, gentle. You felt the wetness of his tears in your hands. He didn't pull away from you, as you had almost expected. His arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace and he kissed you back. You held the kiss longer than you had intended. It felt like he needed this. And maybe you did too. You had missed him, and what could have made for a better reunion after such a stressful week? Eventually, when you pulled away for air, he loosened his hold of you.

"I.. Y/n, I don't understand."

"You weren't the only one having dirty thoughts this week, Tenya. I forgive you."

He blushed, more than a little surprised. You decided to elaborate.

"I was definitely embarrassed, but at the same time, I really hoped you liked what you saw."

You admitted. He seemed a little concerned.

"Was there any doubt in your mind that I wouldn't? You're gorgeous, how could I not?"

"Not really doubt. I just hoped you liked what you saw enough to think about me a little more."

You tried to explain in the least perverted way possible. He glanced away, thinking.

"As long as we're being honest. I'll admit that the memory of you gave me some, ah, uncomfortable evenings. Just to say, you have nothing to worry about."

"Uncomfortable?"

"Yes. Thinking about you, your body, in a quite... erotic way. But, of course I couldn't do something as disrespectful as relieve myself while thinking about you. I'm already ashamed to have indulged in my thoughts of you as much as I had."

On one hand, it was incredibly sweet that he suffered as much as he did out of wanting to be respectful towards you. At the same time, however, you wouldn't have complained at all if he had gotten off thinking about you. You would have taken it as a compliment. You bit the inside of your lip, thinking.

"Thinking about me all this week got you that worked up, but you still haven't touched yourself?"

You asked, clarifying almost. He blushed a dark red, but nodded in confirmation.

"I'm sure you're awfully pent up."

He looked at you. You were trying to tell him something, he was sure of it. He just wasn't sure what yet. You continued.

"I just want you to know, for future reference, you have full permission to touch yourself while thinking of me."

His eyes lit up, like you'd suddenly taken all suffering off his shoulders.

"You mean it? You're completely sure?"

"I am. But, only if I'm allowed to think of you too."

Truthfully, you tried to avoid the thought, but now that you knew he liked you so much, you wanted to indulge.

"You want to think about me while pleasuring yourself?"

He asked, voice somewhat softer. He didn't understand.

"I haven't done anything particularly scandalous around you to fuel thoughts of that nature though... Have I?"

"You didn't have to. I'll think of you regardless."

You definitely planned to at least. It felt dirty just talking about it, but so exciting. You gathered he felt the same way based on the color of his face. He was thinking.

"That hardly seems fair. Surely, there's something you could ask of me to make things more even."

That was a tempting offer. You pursed your lips, thinking. A very filthy idea came to mind.

"You could always return the favor.. and I wouldn't mind letting you look for a little longer."

You suggested. He buffered for a moment, processing the absolutely scandalous thing you just suggested. It was beyond filthy and he should say no, especially not in the dorms. You were seniors. You were supposed to lead by example. And yet...

"That seems fair. I would appreciate getting more time to admire you."

"Why don't you start then."

He nodded. It was only fair. An equal trade. So he pulled away from you now. You sat on the edge of your bed, watching him. He took a deep breath before taking off his shirt. This part wasn't too hard, you'd seen him shirtless before. The context made him feel a bit strange though. He looked at you, assessing your reaction. He blushed when he did. You were so obviously staring, then again he supposed that was the point. Still, the way your eyes seemed to trace over his body made his heart pound.

"Should I continue?"

He asked. In part he was nervous. He'd never undressed around a girl before. The other half of him was excited, more than he should be, at the prospect of you lusting for him. You nodded, leaning back a little.

"If you're comfortable continuing."

He couldn't for certain tell if he was comfortable per say, but he knew he wanted to make things even with you. Not to mention the other feelings. So he did. He unbuckled his belt and undid his pants. There was a moment of hesitation. He looked at you.

"You intend on undressing as well, right?"

It felt odd being the only one, but it probably felt worse for you when it happened last time, since you hadn't agreed to being seen that way. And maybe he was also just eager. You pursed your lips, thinking for a moment.

"You first. We'll take turns."

You wanted to enjoy the show. It'd be too distracting to try undressing while also trying to watch him. Though blushing, he decided to finish, taking his pants off and setting them aside. He looked at you now. He felt completely naked, despite still being in his boxers. It was a strangely exciting feeling. You stood up after a moment, walking over to him. You didn't touch, as much as you wanted to.

"You can sit if you'd prefer."

You said simply. In the spirit of making things fair, he did go and sit where you had been sitting, focusing more on you now than the tinge of embarrassment he felt from being undressed.

You took off your shirt, though you decided you'd keep your bra on for the time being. You felt your heart pounding at just how strange this whole situation was. You didn't question it for now, pushing your pants down and stepping out of them. You kicked them off to the side, looking at Tenya now. His eyes were fixated on you and your body. You could see the subtle heaviness to his breathing. His hands fidgeted slightly. That wasn't the only thing you noticed as you looked him over though. You had noted the bulge in his boxers before, assuming it was just the way they fit and nothing more. It was more pronounced now, bigger. It made you blush harder than you already were.

It was tense for a moment, both of you looking at each other, but not moving. He was the one to finally say something, his voice almost sounded ragged.

"Y/n, would it be too much to ask if I could touch you?"

You were a little surprised by the requests, but even so you stepped forward, standing in front of him. He looked up at you from where he was sat on your bed. Gently, and without a word, you reached for his hands and brought them to your waist. His touches were soft, just trailing along your sides, feeling how your skin felt against his hands. They found their way to your hips, resting there. You didn't know what all you had expected, but it was more than that. You had expected him to reach up to your chest, maybe back around to your ass, or just something pushing things a little further. You weren't completely underwhelmed however. After a moment, he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your abdomen.

"I wish I could find the right way to tell you how beautiful you are. Just saying it doesn't feel like enough."

He said softly, not looking up at you. You ran your fingers through his hair, an action that seemed to be enough to bring his attention up to your face. He was being too respectful, holding back when the deepest parts of your desires wanted him to snap, to take you, to ravage you. You knew he wouldn't. He was your kind, respectful Tenya. So you leaned down and kissed him, delighting in how the action made him squeeze your hips tighter in response as he kissed you back. You pushed into him more, and he pulled you in happily, helping you fit in his lap with his arms around your waist. You ran the tip of your tongue against his lips and he took the hint to deepen the kiss, taking control of it and keeping it gentle.

When you finally had to break the kiss to breathe, he looked at you in awe. You spoke before he did.

"If it's not too much, I'd much rather indulge in you now than have to wait until later."

"Are you suggesting we have sex?"

He asked, almost baffled. You nodded, though a little embarrassed about how he reacted.

"It doesn't have to be all the way, if you don't want it to be."

"What about you? And what about protection?"

He knew he didn't keep condoms around. Truth be told, he didn't foresee himself needing them any time soon.

"I've been on birth control since first year."

"Why?"

"Um. Period problems."

He wasn't as put off by the response as you expected, just thinking now. Something seemed to change after a moment, like a new sense of confidence had hit him.

"Alright then. Y/n, I would be honored for you to be the first person I have sex with."

Your heart skipped hearing that, despite the slight silliness in how serious he sounded. You smiled.

"I would be honored for you to be my first too, Tenya."

He smiled wide. You practically melted. His hands moved up your sides.

"If we're continuing, may I remove this as well?"

He asked, referring to your bra. You nodded. Before you could reach back to help, he was already fumbling with the hooks. You let him for a little bit. It was cute to see him try at least. Eventually, he seemed to figure it out, sighing a bit in relief.

"It would appear I'm going to be needing more practice with these."

You laughed softly, sliding the straps off your shoulders.

"There will be time for that in the future."

He blushed at the mere implications of not just getting to be with you once, but again in the future. It would mean you were really his. That he was really yours. He didn't get to think about that too much though because now your exposed chest was right there in his face and he probably couldn't even tell you what his name was anymore. You guided his hands up to your chest, wanting to let him touch, wanting to feel his hands on all of your more sensitive spots. He immediately started to squeeze and pinch, leaning forward to kiss and lick as well. For someone so new at this, he seemed to know exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was to feel and taste you. His tongue laved over your nipple, his hand squeezing your other breast. You gasped softly.

With nothing but your panties and his boxers to serve as a buffer, you could feel how hard he was, pressing against you. As a finger flicked one of your nipples, your hips instinctively pushed forward, grinding into him. He groaned quietly at the feeling. You huffed, head falling back slightly. You felt his hands move, one staying firm on your hip. You took that moment to catch your breath and regain some of your composure. It was short lived as you realized what he'd been doing. He lifted you with ease, laying you on your back on the bed. He'd been thinking about how he wanted you. He pulled your panties off of you, eyes trained on your face, looking for any sign he should stop. The only clue he received one way or the other was you spreading your legs for him once they were off.

You weren't sure what you expected, maybe for him to start working you open so he could properly fuck you. Which you would be completely and utterly happy with. It seemed he had other plans though as he leaned down, hiking your legs over his broad shoulders. You covered your mouth as he buried his face between your legs. His tongue seemed to follow some sort of pattern that you couldn't quite follow, occasionally brushing your clit and making you squirm. It seemed the sensitive spot didn't go unnoticed, because he focused there for a moment, and when you started to push your hips against his face and whine beneath him, he knew he must've found a good spot. His attention stayed there, toying with your clit with his tongue for as long as you could bare it. You could feel your orgasm building up, though you weren't sure he realized. You moaned out a little louder, which seemed to encourage him more. Your hand reached down into his hair, tugging slighting. You gasped, body tensing as you came on his face. He worked you through it and maybe a little longer than he needed to before pulling up, the lower half of his face wet from you.

"I could stay there forever if you'd let me."

He said, slightly out of breath. You reached for him, wanting him to come closer. You wanted him to lay beside you so you could return the favor and move. He gently took your hand, but didn't fully come to you as you wanted. Instead, he spoke in a low tone you hadn't heard him use before.

"If I may make a request, I don't want you to do the same."

You looked at him, confused. He continued.

"If you can manage it, I've spent nights now imagining how gorgeous you'd look riding me."

He hoped it wasn't asking too much of you. After seeing your breasts, he couldn't help but imagine the way they'd bounce while you bounced in his lap. It was a perverted fantasy, but one he still wanted to see fulfilled if you'd have him. You blushed fairly dark, but pulled him down. He let you this time, laying beside you. You kissed him, tasting yourself on his lips before straddling his lap. You wanted him, and he wanted you too. So why not satisfy you both?

He watched you in awe as you lined him up with you. You felt the tip press against your opening and how it slid in with more ease than you expected. No wonder he wanted to eat you out first. It got you worked up enough to take him. He groaned, grabbing a hold of your hips. You had to steady your breathing as you slowly started to take more of him. It was a stretch, though one you took like such a good girl. You stopped, almost fully down, wanting to take a second. Without a thought, he couldn't help but help you finish out, thrusting up into you. You let something between a gasp and a moan out.

"I'm sorry-"

He said quickly. He was so excited for you, so needy, it was hard to control himself. But he would. He didn't want to hurt you, especially while you were fulfilling his perverted fantasies. You had to take a moment before moving, pulling about half off before slowly sinking back down onto him. He watched you as you moved, loving the sight of your beautiful body taking his cock so well. You started to gradually increase your pace, moaning softly as you did. Before long, all you could hear were the sounds of your own moans, his quiet noises, and the slapping of you bouncing in his lap, just like he wanted.

You felt your orgasm building. You had hoped to get him off first, but it was hard for you to tell if he was getting as close as you were. Your movements started to slow, much to your own distress. He caught on, holding your hips tight and fucking up into you faster than the pace you had set before. You cried out his name, head falling back, inner walls squeezing around him as he continued to fuck you through it. It didn't take much more than that for him to pull you down, pushing into you as deeply as he could, and cum inside of you. Your name came out in a tight stutter as he did.

You both stayed like that for a long moment, taking in what had just happened, breathing in the now still room. You fell forward, laying on top of him. He wrapped his arms around you.

"Y/n."

He whispered. You looked up at him.

"I.. apologies for the way I went about all of this. And even though it would appear we've done things somewhat out of order, I was hoping you would... be my partner?"

You smiled, kissing him gently.

"I'd love to be your partner."

He smiled too.

"Perfect."

He pulled out of you now, making you both sigh at the feeling.

"Lay here and relax. Let me get things cleaned up."

He laid you down on the bed gently, getting up and going to your desk to get some tissues to clean everything up. After that, he pulled his boxers on and went over to your dresser. He pulled out a new pair of panties for you and a sleep shirt. He brought them back over to the bed. You went to get up so you could get dressed, but he stopped you.

"No, allow me. You've done enough tonight."

You blushed, but let him pull the shirt over your head and slide the panties up your legs. He placed the clothes you'd been wearing before in your hamper. He took a moment, thinking before looking back at you.

"Do you want me to go downstairs and get you water or anything else?"

He offered. You held out your arms for him.

"Come here, Tenya."

He smiled softly.

"Allow me to turn off the lights then."

He did as you asked now, coming back over to the bed. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back into bed with you. He didn't argue, wrapping his arms around you as well, rubbing your back gently. He kissed the top of your head.

"I'm glad you forgave me."

He said softly. You couldn't help but smile.

"Of course, my love."

You felt him heat up at you calling him that.

"My love."

He repeated quietly, holding you a little tighter. You snuggled into him more, letting yourself get comfortable so you could sleep. Tonight wore you out and you were looking forward to waking up in the arms of not just your best friend, but your boyfriend and the love of your life.

[joonipertree]

tags: fluff, just fluff, kenma being a #streamer. i love streamer kenma it scratches that itch in me that craves a parasocial kind of love.

"Kenmaaaa" you drawled while opening the door, leaning heavily against the doorframe of your boyfriend's office room.

It took you five seconds to register where Kenma was sitting, which was in front of the computer unsurprisingly, and the camera that had a red light on. The second monitor to his left was showcasing Kenma on the screen while the third one had an onslaught of comments popping up.

oh shi--

You jumped back, mostly out of surprise.

"Yes, honey?" Kenma spoke, one side of his headphones off as he turned towards you. "The camera won't pick up on you, don't worry."

You crept back in, feeling nervous even though the camera wasn't even on you.

"Sorry, I didn't realise you were streaming."

"Nothing to apologise for. What's up? Need me for something?" He urged you forward and you padded your way inside, the only comfort being in proximity to your boyfriend.

"I-uh- didn't feel like cooking so I thought we could order something?" You were halfway through your sentence when Kenma picked up his phone. He was nodding along, opening an app in it.

"What are you feeling?" He murmured, completely ignoring the eruption of comments blasting on his screen. There was a lot of yelling. You tried not to look at it but it drew you in, most of it was gibberish and question marks. You could make out the words 'WHAT' and 'DATING???' a lot.

"I'm not sure? Feeling indecisive today." You probably had an idea but it had vanished a couple of minutes back.

"Want burgers? Pizza?" Kenma didn't even seem to care at that point, solely focused on his phone. He did take a hold of your hand though, running his thumb through your knuckles.

THAT caught on camera and the gibberish got louder and faster.

"Burgers sound good." You snapped back to him, letting his hand ground you.

"That burger place you like?"

"Yes please."

"Honey mustard one?"

"Yes."

"Mh-hmmm." Kenma dragged out the sound before placing in his own order.

"Wanna get ice cream? Been craving it." He worked quick to add it in, knowing what you wanted but still asking in case you changed your mind.

"I can pay for the---"

"Shut the fuck up." Kenma murmured with only an upward glance at you, a small smile on his face when you pouted.

You finally took a look at the main monitor, a pretty sunset with the main character looking off into the distance on the screen. "What game you playin?"

"It's a fantasy game. Pretty new, haven't even started yet. You'd like it, it's very pretty." Kenma turned the monitor a bit so you could see it, pressing play so some more of the graphics would come on screen. You let out a little gasp, taking it all in.

When you realised that there were a lot of people waiting, you blinked out of your revery and threw an apologetic look at Kenma.

"Sorry, you were busy and--"

"Never too busy for you." Kenma murmured again and scooted towards you till he was just out of frame, his lips puckering up while he craned his neck upwards, too lazy to stand up.

You laughed and gave him a peck on the lips, then the nose and then the forehead. He grinned widely, adjusting back into the same position he was in before.

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" You call out and walk back.

"Okay, baby."

You were about to close the door when you head a very disgruntled, 'shut the fuck up.' from Kenma. Curious about what he would say, you listened in from the hallway.

"Yeah I am dating someone. No, I'm not saying their name....we've been dating for a while now. I am not soft for them....okay chat keep the screenshots between us....what do you mean they're already on twitter??? Ya'll are annoying. No, Kuroo I'm not buying you food. Yeah, they are special, dumbass."

You grinned so wide your cheeks hurt, already scrolling through twitter to see if people actually posted anything...

.....Kenma's name was trending

And oh the thread of pictures after pictures, of his eyes turning into liquid, his smile, the hand holding yours that. It was enough in the frame for his thumb to be seen. The person that posted it was SCREAMING about how soft he is.

Then there was a screenshot of him tilting his head upwards and your hair was the only thing that showed up as you kissed him. There was a fire hazard in the comments. It made you chortle. You saved all of them to use as leverage. Seeing as Kuroo was retweeting some of them, he had them too.

A/N: second day in a row im posting kenma hehehehehehhehehehhe hyperfixation tyme

[lostcatinthedark]

You can feel the tension rise as the time for Jimin's release from ms approaches. What I mentioned before how Jimin's personality gets misconstrued because of his silence is true. Mostly because people are not used to that, it's easy to know what someone wants and where someone is heading when they tell you about it, and honestly most people are yappers, but that makes it easier to categorize them and anticipate their actions. But Jimin works and lives in silence, so that's where projections and fears take place. But he does say enough through his art, it's just harder to decode because he always uses symbols and metaphors. If by now you don't listen to Smfpt2 and have a clearer idea of who he is, you just didn't get it. This is a hard-working, resilient, smart guy. I hate when people use his kindness against him by trying to paint him as someone who will always sacrifice for others, who would never put himself first. When that song tells you the opposite. And it's his favorite one for a reason. It's an impactful song, one where he acknowledges his power both for positive and for destruction. This man literally called himself Tailor of chaos. That's exactly who he is, the thing is he is a nice person so he wouldn't do something immoral, but he's absolutely someone who would strategize the best way to achieve something or get rid of a situation, the best way to get people's attention, the best way to poke at someone without getting in trouble or affecting others. And he will never tell you about it, one day you'll just realize when you see it happened.

So people need to get that into their heads, he chooses diplomacy but that doesn't mean that he agrees with everything happening around him, or that he even gets along with everyone. He is kind, but he is also very protective of his loved ones. He is humble, but you can tell he is ambitious too and if he sees obstacles in his way to his goals, he'll try to move them or simply change paths to get to where he wants to go. I'm saying this because people still don't get it, some fans worry about things that he probably already has under control and his antis think that he isn't doing anything at all. He is in a complicated situation for sure, but I'm sure that he has taken the right steps for his goals.

It will be funny when something happens in the future and people who don't know him say: "omg I never saw this coming from him" and trust that his haters will rot with resentment saying "I wonder what shady thing he did to achieve that". Mark my words. Unfortunately that always seems to be a topic of conversation surrounding him (his success, his loving fans, his supportive dad) and it's not just people trying to invalidate him and his support system, it's also because he never matches the projections and expectations people have of him, and that just make people feel resentful when he steps out of that box (even though he's told you a bunch of times there is no box at all). His number is literally the 13, that's the death number, in other words, the rebirth number. Bring everything down to create something brand new.

So my advice, trust in this man's intelligence and be patient. If you know you know!

[saeun]

ꪆ୧ ── REAP WHAT YOU SOW ┊ LOVE TO LOSE ﹑ JJK. ⤿ starring: gojo satoru x fem!reader.

꒰ heart to none ﹢ if only he knew karma would come back to bite his ass a few years later. now he misses his ex while she's moved on.

𖧷 · love, ‘su: nothing much!! just moments of him suffering

co-parenting with satoru truly isn't all butterflies. as reserved and respectful as he is (to a selected few), satoru never hesitated to taunt you whenever you mentioned going on dates.

“a date? hmm, good luck with that.”

“if it happens to kick off, good for you, but i don't want him near my child.”

“how exciting! i hope it fails.”

those are just some examples of his behaviour. he's vocal about disliking you and the idea of sharing you. had he known beforehand he'd become slightly possessive, he would've avoided you and relationships altogether.

loving someone his mind hates but his heart longs for isn't an experience he'd wish upon his worst enemy — it's too much. the wretched feeling in his chest deepens whenever he's with the kid; scenarios of you being beside him at that very moment flashes before his eyes, but his pride's too high to crash whatever you're doing.

that doesn't stop him from texting, however. he never had an issue with double—triple texting you. if he had something to say (which is never anything important), he'll say it.

satoru: hey.

satoru: did you forget you have a family at home?

satoru: my child's asleep btw, we had fun all day.

you: my* child. not yours.

satoru: so what am i, an elf on babysitting duties?

you: sure if that's what you want. now stop texting my phone.

satoru: what if i'm dying?

you: i'd pop some champagne. throw something on the grill. light up a cigarette, even.

satoru: you don't even like cigarettes.

you: exactly. now bye i'll be there for six.

yeah, there's no doubt that you'll never entertain him again. he, too, wouldn't entertain himself if he was in your position. sure, he was an ass in the relationship but— you're both older and wiser. maybe you can put the differences aside and come together? a flat no is what you'd answer.

satoru doesn't even hear from you often; most of your activity reports come from your child who excitedly tells their father the details, wishing he was there.

“you guys had fun. i wish i was there too, bub.”

a sentimental tone settled in his voice. he's suffering the consequences of his actions, and he desperately needs you to help him through it.

just like old times: you'd be there for him, going along with whatever he needed to calm down. whether it's wanting to be in you or on you— as long as your arms were wrapped around him.

but it's all a memory now. a bitter one.

do you show your vulnerable side to the guys you date, too? do you hold them the way you held him? do they even know what you like? do they know you the way he knows you?

jealousy, regret, longing— everything mixes in his mind. his stomach aches. it feels as though his insides are hollow.

he adores your child. they look mostly like him, but the personality stems from you. the attitude, tantrums, even the way they hold things — it's all you. he guesses the kid's observed you and eventually picked up your habits. satoru relates; after all, he still has some of your habits he picked up.

as the clock ticks on, his fingers hover over the keyboard on his phone. somehow, he found himself in your pinned chat— debating whether he should text or not. he's been typing and deleting for the past ten minutes. unless you're not on the app, there's no way you didn't notice the ‘typing...’ under his contact name.

satoru: i've been thinking.

(message deleted)

satoru: fuck your date let's get back together.

(message deleted)

satoru: or whatever you're doing right now. let me apologize — it's been years. our baby's four now.

(message deleted)

satoru: hey.

you: what's with these deleted messages?

you: are you okay?

he wonders. is he okay? would you come over if he said no? are you going to be mad if he re-sent what the deleted messages said?

satoru: uhhh yeah. everything's fine.

satoru: i'm bored that's why.

satoru: you should totally come over.

you: no.

you: talk to you later.

satoru: please? i'm serious.

you: fine.

satoru: might as well spend the night.

(message deleted)

satoru: thanks.

(message delivered)

“well fuck...” he sighs, raking his fingers through his hair. he doesn't have anything to say nor do with you. actually, he does — he has quite a few, but he wouldn't push your buttons. he'd love to, but the chances of him receiving a slap is high.

[barleyo]

If ur in twd fandom I would loveee a Daryl dixon age gap fic!! Just him being disgusting over taking her first time? Just a major power imbalance between them. Dont do this if ur uncomfy ofc!! Stay safe bookie <33

Men Who Are Older.

Daryl Dixon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: cried happy tears at this request, i LOVE daryl, he's so yummy. dirty old men foreverrrrr!!! i haven't seen all of twd and it's been a while since i've watched it, so this could be super ooc for all i know!! sorry it's short, i wanted to get all my ideas down quickly :3

Tags: LARGE age gap (18-19 and late 40-ish), power imbalance, coercion, p in v, loss of virginity, allusion to anal, creepy old man behavior (ugh i luv it)

Wordcount: 1.2k

You found yourself often visiting Daryl in his tent later in the night when you couldn't sleep. He tried to act like it annoyed him, like your presence was a nuisance to him, but it wasn't. You weren't the most irritating person he had to deal with day-to-day. You were polite enough for your age, you didn't mess around and snoop through his shit. You didn't judge him.

Most importantly, though, you were attractive. There wasn't much hot, young tail to chase around the camp. He liked to think you were his reward for living through hell every day. Nothing like eye candy at the end of the night to ease a hardened man's stress.

It was like most nights when you entered his tent, not bothering to announce yourself. Daryl looked up from the pocket knife he had been mindlessly flicking to eye you down. 

"Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" 

"Yeah, right," you said, taking a casual seat on his bedroll. "What're you doing?"

He clicked his tongue at you on his bed, but sighed and ignored it. "Nothing. Too damn late to do anythin' important."

"Want to chit-chat, then?" You rested your hands on your knees, hoping he would soothe your boredom.

"Do I wanna 'chit-chat'?" Daryl flicked his knife closed and tucked it in his back pocket. "If you wanna chat, why don't you go do it with someone else? You don't have friends your age?" 

"I used to." He didn't say anything, just flattened his mouth at your rebuttal. "We're friends though, aren't we?"

Crossing his arms, he let out a hum. "Whatever you want, kid. Sure. We're real pals."

You spoke about whatever came to your mind for the next however-many minutes with him. Mostly just you babbling on, but it didn't bother him. You could run off at your mouth all you wanted, gave him all the excuse to stare you down and look a little too closely at places he knew he shouldn't.

Eventually, you got on the topic of things you missed about life before. Things you wished you got to experience, things you were slowly starting to forget about.

"I didn't even get to properly lose my virginity before this shit took over," you complained, now laying on Daryl's bed like it was your own. "It really bites, man." 

His eyes widened a bit, arms falling to his legs from their crossed position. 

"Wait, what'd y'say?" 

"Huh? Oh, I didn't get to have sex with anyone before the outbreak," you repeated, not caring to turn to face him while you spoke. "Sometimes, I wonder if I'll die before I get any." 

So many things rushed through Daryl's head at that moment. A virgin? You? It wasn't exactly surprising, you weren't old enough for it to be a shocking thing to hear, but the thought really intrigued him. Made him wonder.

It gave him an idea, and lord knows dirty, old men have even dirtier ideas stewing in their minds.

"That bother you?" 

You finally turned your head over to look at him, eyes looking conflicted.

"I guess, a little. There are bigger things to worry about, but I feel like I'm missing out," you said while trying your best to sound nonchalant. "It's not much of a priority, under the circumstances, you know."

Oh, how wrong you were. It very much was a priority, an urgent one at that. 

"Never know. Could happen, if y'really wanted. Don't rule it out completely," he advised, wiping his face with the back of his palm. "Maybe some younger man might find his way here. Could be an opportunity." 

"Nah, I couldn't go for that. I don't wanna be inexperienced and have to deal with an equally inexperienced guy too. That'd be like hell," you joked.

"Sounds like you want an older man, then."

He called on every guardian angel he had in that moment, praying for you to take the bait. Just one chance, damn it, he wasn't asking for much.

"Yeah, guess so." You made eye contact with him for a brief second, before flitting your eyes around in embarrassment. "Listen, it's getting late, I should go." You pushed yourself up, ready to head back to your family.

Daryl stood from his seat and grabbed your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

"I don't mind," he said, dancing around the answer to the question you didn't yet ask. "I know my fair share."

"Those don't sound like sounds a virgin'd make," he teased. He loved how you sounded. Straight from a porno, just shameless cries and squeals. "You sure you ain't did this before?"

He watched the back of your head shake 'no' while his hand guided along the arch in your spine. Took you a while to learn to keep your head down and ass up, but damn it if you didn't put the knowledge to work quickly.

"Am I supposed to be dizzy?" you asked, voice muffled by the blankets under you.

Daryl chuckled softly, slamming your hips back on him. "Yeah, if the guy's doin' it right. Feel good?"

Your hands clenched the fabric you were laying on, digging into it roughly.

"I think? I—I dunno, 's just so much."

Being the man he was, Daryl took that as a challenge. He flipped you over on your back, cock still rocking into you. He sped up, letting his movements get sharper. 

"C'mon," he muttered gruffly, trying to urge you to place your legs on his shoulders, "you gonna be this much of a problem for the next guy?"

You gave your weak legs a kick, wrapping them around his neck so the shaking wouldn't roll them off his shoulders. 

"No, no," you whined, groping your tits to keep your hands busy, "don't want another guy. He won't be as good as you, Dar." 

How the hell could a few little words get him ramped up even more? He knew you probably didn't mean it, horny girls said whatever their pussies wanted them to say, but the way he fucked you made you believe your own words.

"Yeah? I ruined ya for other guys already?" 

The stark difference between his now softer tone and rougher thrusts confused your brain in the best ways possible. You couldn't focus on just one aspect of him: Daryl was everywhere. In your brain, in your heart, in the very blood flowing through your veins— and, of course, inside of you. 

It was too much, all of it. 

Your walls clamped tightly over him, sucking him in like a vacuum. The clenching of your walls over his dick sent him over the edge, barely leaving him enough time to pull out. He bit the back of his hand, stifling a moan while he jerked himself the rest of the way off, coating your tired pussy with his cum. 

"You didn't cum inside, did you?" You sat up quickly, scooting back a bit. 

Daryl let out a huff. "I'm not an amateur, I know how to pull out."

"Just checking," you mumbled, lying back down on his bedroll, head nuzzling into the pillow.

You felt his dick push up against your ass, prodding between your cheeks.

"I could show you a way that'll make sure no idiot douchebags get ya knocked up," he offered, head desperately tapping against your asshole, "if you want."

A soft sigh came from your chest as you pushed your ass back on him.

"You're an eager teacher, y'know."

[saintmuses]

❝𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜❞

Pairing:

Soft!Dark!Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary:

Thomas had successfully convinced his older brother to end the relationship with her so he could have her all to himself.

Warning(s): SMUT. Dub-con. Fingering. praises. Somnophilia. Breeding kink. Pure Filthy. Reader’s tipsy. Possessive!Thomas. Depraved!Thomas. Soft!Thomas. P in V. Flashback in italics. Minors, dni.

Word Count: 1.4k

Thomas chuckled softly as he watched her slowly drift off to drunk-induced sleep.

He then undressed slowly, his eyes never leaving her delicate nude form on the bed. After he took all articles of clothing off, he climbed onto the bed and positioned himself above her, his hard length pressing against her body.

Thomas had been searching for her for weeks, his mind constantly wandering back to their last encounter. He was not exactly surprised to find her at a pub, looking slightly tipsy. After all, his brother ended the courtship with her.

He walked over to her table, his eyes drinking her in. "Well, well.” 

She stiffened after hearing his voice, and she slowly looked up at him, eyes unfocused. "No." She lifted the half full glass  of whiskey in her hand, preparing to swallow the harsh liquid.

He exhaled a chuckle, leaning down to grab her unoccupied wrist gently, bringing her hand towards his mouth. She tried to jerk her hand out of his grip, but he did not let her. "Don't be like that," he purred, his lips brushing against her knuckles as he spoke. “I just wanted to see how you were doing.”

The next time she tried to remove her hand from his hold, he surprisingly released it. “You don’t approve of the relationship between me and Arthur that you convinced him to end the relationship with me…the fact he listens to you…well, that would be his downfall someday.” She stated before slamming the glass down on the table, making the table shake from the force.

He laughed softly, leaning back in his chair. "You wound me, darling," he said, feigning hurt. "After those encounters you two had with each other that I got to witnessed, you can't honestly tell me you’re not the right person for him?"

She chose not to answer him, instead of leveling his eyes filled with amusement with a glare of her own.

"Well, then," he smirked, reaching under the table and grabbing her ankle, his fingers trailing up her leg teasingly. "Perhaps I had the right to tell him."

"I'm too drunk to deal with you," she muttered, barely flinching at the surprise sensation of his hand on her leg.

"You're never too drunk for me," he replied, lifting her leg and placing it on his lap. He started massaging her calf slowly, his fingers deftly tracing patterns on her skin.

She sighed unwillingly as the muscle tension began to dissipate. "People are looking at us because they're wondering why Thomas Shelby is nice."

He chuckled softly, his fingers continuing to work their magic on her leg. "They're wrong," he murmured. "I can be very nice...when I want to be." His hand moved up her thigh, the touch growing more intimate as he spoke.

She jerked her leg out of his wandering hand, before pushing her chair backwards, standing up. "If you want to be a gentleman, you better walk me home because it's night time, and I don't trust people out there." She said sharply before stumbling away from the table. She paused before turning to him, “nor do I trust you.” 

He watched her leave, a mix of amusement and annoyance flashing across his face. Standing up, he quickly caught up with her, his hand gently guiding her back towards him. "Come now, love," he purred. "There's no need to be like that."

Letting her go, Thomas walked beside her, his eyes roaming over her figure hungrily. "I jus’ want to make sure you get home safe," he said, his voice low.

Once they arrived at the door of her flat, she dug her hand into her purse, searching blindly for the key.

Despite her not speaking mostly on the way to her flat, it did not deter him.

“You should let me in,” he leaned in closer, his breath fanning against her ear as he spoke.

“No, I don’t.” She got the key out of her purse, and turned the brass knob. "You can go now." she said sharply, slurring a bit.

Thomas groaned softly as he continued to touch and explore her body. His hands moved up to cup her breasts, massaging them gently before tweaking her nipples between his fingers. His other hand slipped down to her stomach, teasingly stroking the bare skin there. 

“The reason I had him end the relationship is because I want you all to myself.” He murmured softly. “I’m a greedy man.”

Thomas' hand moved lower, tracing a path down her stomach towards her belly button. He lightly teased the tiny indentation with his fingertip before trailing lower still, down towards her hidden folds.

Thomas' voice was rough with lust as he whispered in her ear. "I want to breed you, my little darling. Your cunt is mine and I'll stuff it with me cum."

He looked down at her pussy as he pushed her knees towards her chest.

Thomas' eyes darkened as he looked down at her exposed pussy. "You're so beautiful," he breathed out, his voice husky with desire. "I could spend all night just worshiping this perfect little cunt." He then leveled his hips where his cock would meet her pussy.

Thomas groaned loudly as he pushed his thick cockhead against her tight entrance. He took a moment to savor the feeling of being so close to her before pushing forward, slowly sinking deeper into her wet pussy.

She shifted slightly in her sleep, discomfort flitted across her face and he paused, his hips stilling inside of her. "Little darling," he whispered softly, nuzzling his face into her neck. "Sweetheart, I need to fuck you properly, make you mine because I need you."

Thomas' hips began to move again, pulling almost completely out of her before slamming back in, burying himself deep within her cunt. He set a hard, punishing pace, claiming her as his own with each powerful thrust.

Thomas' breathing grew heavier as he pounded into her. He couldn't resist the tight grip she had on him, the way her body moved with his every push. Her sleeping state only added to the perverse thrill for him.

As Thomas continued to pound into her, his cock swelled even more, growing larger inside of her. It stretched and filled every inch of her tight pussy, claiming it as its own. He groaned loudly in pleasure and desire for more.

Thomas couldn't seem to get enough. His hips continued to slam against hers in a frenzy of lust and possession.

"You're mine, you know?" Thomas whispered into her ear, his voice filled with possessive affection as he kept pounding away at her exhausted body. "You belong to me now, little darling, forever and always." As his pace slowed down slightly but his thrusts still remained deep and powerful, Thomas whispered praises against her neck, his warm breath tickling her sensitive skin. He called her his good girl over and over again, as if he couldn't believe he had found such a perfect match in her.

With one final thrust, Thomas filled her cunt to the brim with his cum and held onto her tight, still buried deep inside of her for several seconds. As he slowly pulled out, he allowed his thick cum to drip out of her pussy like ribbons of his possessiveness.

Thomas' eyes darkened with satisfaction as he looked down at his hand, feeling the slick evidence of his possession on his fingers. He then placed his palm flat against her stomach, still trying to catch his breath.

"Look at that," he purred, his voice husky with desire. "Me cock has stretched out your pretty pussy just the way it should be." He leaned down to peer at her stretched abused hole, his purr turning into a low growl of appreciation.

Thomas glanced at her discarded clothes and picked up her underwear. He put her legs through the holes of her shorts and pulled it until it laid tightly against her cum-filled cunt with a low growl of possession. "There you go, little darling. Me cum will keep that hole nice and warm for me..."

He crawled up her sleeping body.

"You've been such a good girl for me," Thomas whispered softly, pressing gentle kisses all over her sleepy face. His touch was tender and caring now, the roughness from before fading away as he nuzzled against her neck.

Thomas pressed his lips against her lips, the gentleness of his kiss a stark contrast to the rough passion he had just infused into his little darling.

[matsudashusband]

some NSFW modern!jean kirstein headcanons 4 you!

you've been warned. 18+, MDNI. afab reader in mind, but no specific gendered terms or genitals mentioned. ky, if you're reading this, no, you're not.

-crazy one to open on tbh but jean probably had a yoinking addiction while he was going through puberty (as I'm sure a lot of people did), as a result of this, he doesn't like to focus on his pleasure in the bedroom as an adult.

like seriously, he begs you not to let him cum.

-it's probs a bit of a kink within itself, to be denied most of the time, but he's worried about going back to his old ways, so he doesn't let himself cum a lot...BUT...that's not to say he isn't getting pleasure from watching you get off.

-the first few times you had sex with him, he's a fumbling mess. can't think straight, for a second forgets how to put a condom on, sweatier than usual, but all of this is so hot in its own way. the way he blushes the whole time and holds your hand is something he never lost, even as the two of you grew more comfortable with each other's touch.

-jean prioritizes your comfort over anything else. this is a fact, and you cannot change my mind on this. he always tells you "comfort first, pleasure second," and this is a non-negotiable rule with him in the bedroom.

-jean loves loves loves any position where he can see your face and kiss you, but he mostly likes to see your face because it's easiest to read how you're doing. if we're still rolling with the emt!jean headcanons (that never leave my brain), jean is going to be very good at reading people's pain or discomfort levels. that being said, having medical knowledge is a plus for him. he knows all the spots to touch to make you feel comfortable and hot at the same time.

-in the same vein, verbal yes or no consent is so important to jean (AND SHOULD BE TO ALL OF YOU!!), "sure" "I guess" and "yeah" don't count to him. jean needs a verbal yes or no.

-missionary (as basic as it is) is his favorite. he also loves when you ride him, but if you're like me and your knees can't stand that, he doesn't want you to be in pain in any way, so he usually likes to take charge.

-jean would be a switch with a softdom lean to me, and often doesn't enjoy going rough. he loves to take his time to build up your pleasure. file your complaints with the complaint department if you disagree. *holds up garbage can*

-it took some tries to get going down on you right, working out what specifically makes you cum, but once he figured it out with a little help from your communication, he's an absolute god at it.

-as for kinks, jean is open to trying most things that don't involve genuinely hurting you, however, in terms of what he enjoys, he's pretty vanilla. (but I feel like he loves being choked-)

-lastly, for aftercare, jean is the best. snacks? you got em. water? hydrate or die straight. comfy clothes or blankets? he's back from the closet with them in no time. cuddles or a hot bath? whatever you need, this man will do it for you. especially if the two of you tried something new kink-wise, aftercare is so important to showing your partner that you genuinely love them.

that's all i got for now, maybe one day I'll do a part two.

[playstation-dreamcast]

i love ur hcs and ur wesker snowman fic to the point it probably became one of my all time favorites! you seem to get wesker so well esp when it comes to how he’d deal with his own feelings if he realized he had feelings for reader. and that’s why im here today because i want to ask the best wesker understander a specific thing!

how would (thinking about s.t.a.r.s scenario) wesker react to reader bringing to work an extra lunchbox for him? like, reader noticed he’s always working and never leaving his office to the point he mostly skips all of his meals and he refuses every invitation from others to go grab a bite during lunch bc he’s busy so reader starts bringing to work 2 lunchboxes: one for them and one for wesker. reader would definitely ask wesker beforehand why he doesn’t eat lunch and when his reply is the same “i’m too busy” everyday, they knew they had to do something about it and take care of their Captain!! and you better believe reader would bring a variety of different home cooked meals everyday: pasta, another time salmon and rice, lasagna, sandwich, wrap, broccoli and chicken salad…

Everyone in the s.t.a.r.s team is jealous and picking (jokingly) on wesker getting a delicious home made meal for free by the rookie (whom they know they have excellent culinary skills) along with other treats because reader not only brings him a lunchbox, but every morning when reader comes to work, they always bring a coffee and a little pastry that they drop at his office which is something they have been doing since they started working there

Oh, so what, ya think you can just rock up into my inbox and start singing my praises and I'm just gonna write whatever you want for you? Cause you're right, I will, that's exactly how it works around here thank you /playful

Couple: S.T.A.R.S era Wesker X GN! S.T.A.R.S Reader

Summary: If Wesker refuses to take his lunch breaks, then you have no other choice than to take matters into your own hands

Tags: Domestic fluff

“Are you sure?” You asked, concern dripping from your lips as you cocked your head at him. 

Wesker barely looked up from the paperwork in his hand. “Positive,” He muttered, looking at the next page in his hand, “Someone has to work around here.”

You didn’t like the tone of his voice, or how dismissive he was at the very notion of going to lunch with his coworkers. “You can’t work if you starve to death, you know.” you reminded him.

“I won’t starve,” He snorted, before pointedly looking up at you, “I had a danish this morning.” and then he went right back to what he was doing. You’d never told him directly, but Wesker was far from a stupid man. He knew that the coffee and warm pastry he found on his desk every morning was from the S.T.A.R.S team's very own culinary savant. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s not good to skip meals you know.”

“I’ll live, I assure you.”

“Why don’t you just come with us?”

He waved you off this time. “I’m busy Rookie, end of discussion. Now go get lunch before the others leave you behind. You sighed, before leaving and joining the other S.T.A.R.S members, piling into Barry's. 

You sat next to Chris. “Let me guess, he said no?” 

You sighed, running your hand down your face. “He said he was busy.”

Chris was really really bad at hiding when he felt smug. “I told you, Rookie. Wesker’s been at war with lunch for as long as any of us have known him.”

 It was a conversation you’d had in some shape or form with your Captain every day. You had noticed not long into your new position as Alpha team’s medic that Wesker never left his desk, and never brought a lunch. Ever. And you’d never seen him come into work with a quick breakfast like you had the others either, not even a granola bar. You started to wonder if he skipped all of his meals. It was troubling, not just because Wesker was clearly a guy with pretty high caloric needs just judging by his build alone- but because you were a firm believer that no one should ever go hungry, no matter the circumstances. 

So you started bringing him breakfast. 

You’d always been a fan of baking and cooking. Even using it as a side hustle while you were getting your Doctorate degree. You were good at it, and you loved doing it so it only made sense to put your skills to work. You started waking up early Monday mornings and making various different breakfast pastries, leaving them along with a fresh coffee on Wesker’s desk every morning.

He questioned it at first, but didn’t think too much about it. Honestly, he assumed he was about to discover one of you guys had fucked up big time and were trying to suck up before he found out. But, after two weeks of it going on, baked goods on his desk every morning and not one mistake in sight, he had to admit someone was just bringing him breakfast. He automatically assumed it was you.

But, now you were starting to think it wasn’t enough. One baked good isn’t enough to run off of for an entire day. You decided, once again, if Wesker wasn’t going to take care of himself, you would just have to take care of him yourself. 

The next day you came into work with two lunch boxes. And at twelve P.M. on the dot, you waltzed into Wesker office and placed one of them on his desk.

He actually looked away from his computer monitor to look at it. “What is this?” He asked.

“It’s lunch!” You smiled, “Made it myself.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “And it’s on my desk for what reason?” 

“Because it’s yours. I brought my own, it’s in the break room.” You explained

He blinked at it twice. “And why did you bring me lunch?”

Your grin only grew. “Because it’s already at your desk. You don’t have to leave or take a break. You have no excuse not to eat.”

He almost smirked at you. “You’re good.” 

You shrugged coyly, “I’ve played the game once or twice before.”

He gave in, finally reaching for the box and opening it. You saw the shock flash across his face for half a second before he looked up at you. “What is this?”

You tilted your head. “It’s lunch? It’s grilled salmon with wild rice. There should be a side salad there too.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I see that, where did you find the time to make this?”

You simply shrugged. “A magician never reveals their secrets, Captain.”

He simply sighed, not wanting your hard work to go to waste. Maybe he didn’t have to work through lunch today. “Well, thank you Doctor.”

You now had contextual evidence that it works. And as such, it became your daily routine. You'd sneak into his office to leave him breakfast in the morning, and deliver his lunch in the afternoon. Never the same thing twice in a row, and always incredible. While medicine and helping people has always been your number one passion, the culinary arts was a very close second. 

At some point, you’d taken to joining Wesker in his office for lunch, slowly coaxing him into taking an actual break as opposed to just multitasking: eating and working. Naturally, the others took notice. And predictably, Chris was the first one to say something.

“Man, I’ve heard of work spouses, but I didn’t know they came with home cooked meals. I thought you had to put a ring on a finger to get that kinda treatment,” He quipped as he saw you deliver yet another lunchbox to Wesker. You’d manage to convince him to actually eat in the break room today. You shot Chris a very pointed look, hoping he didn’t scare the captain away. 

“What?” He asked. 

“You don’t need to marry someone to get a home cooked lunch,” Wesker said flatly, “You just have to be charming. Something I know you struggle with.” 

“What about me?” Brad asked, somehow worse at hiding his jealousy than Chris was, “How do I get one?” 

Wesker scoffed, “Refer to the previous point about being charming.”

You rolled your eyes, “Guys come on. The captain wouldn’t eat lunch if it wasn’t brought to him.” 

“So it’s the incompetence that gets you lunch?” Jill asked. 

That caught his attention. If looks could kill, the look Wesker gave her would have been a hydrogen bomb. “Watch yourself Valentine.” 

Jill lazily put her hands up in defence before turning back to you. “Don’t worry Doctor, I’m not after your lunches. I’m after the home cooked pastries in the morning.”

“Yes!” Chris agreed, excitedly pointing at Jill, “You should make those for the whole team, it would boost team morale.”

You chuckled softly, honestly a little flustered by the whole display. “Maybe on Fridays.”

“I’ll take it!” Chris laughed, happy to accept the non committal answer. The five of you continued to joke around and enjoy your meal together. Wesker ignored how comfortable it was to be around the team. Or, he tried to at least. He’d refused to take lunches with everyone for so long because he knew the connections sharing meals together can form. He wanted to avoid it. 

But, it was too late for that now. He was already in too deep. He had accepted his fate. He’d cut you all out of his heart later, disconnect from it all and do what needed to be done. For now though, he might as well indulge himself in this new feeling. 

As the others filed out of the break room, Wesker stopped you. You looked up at him confused, worried that maybe you’d done something wrong. “Captain?” You asked.

He cleared his throat, and stood up a little straighter. “I’ve greatly appreciated the care you’ve shown me, Doctor. And I’d like to repay you. Can I take you to lunch this weekend?”

You smiled, warm and bright. You mom was right, the way to a man's heart really was through his stomach. “I’d like that Captain.”

Wesker gave you a soft smile. “Great. It’s a date.”