#is just even more painful. 'oh. how... thoughtful.'

[mixingandmelting]

May I request smth like batboys + bruce reacting to their fem!reader gifting them these couple hoodies? 🥺🥺🥺

Bruce:

He smirks and raises an eyebrow. It was one thing to own couple-coded dresswear, but an actual couple’s outfit?

“’Somebody’s problem’?” A mix of amusement and affection underlies his voice as he pulls out the one that’s obviously meant for him and keeps it at arm’s length away.

“What? It’s true! Everyone can agree I’m not the problem ninety percent of the time.” He simply snorts, the teasing tilt and grin a dead give away that you were bluffing.

Eyeing you for a second, he goes back to taking in the sweatshirt. The softness of a mix of polyester and cotton with words sewn in the middle. It’s as if you’ve physically given a part of yourself, warm and soft that he can stay engulfed all day. And the very thought of it is enough to make his heart flutter faster.

It was enjoyable to say the least, when he wore it while staying in the Batcave the next day. While comforted at the thought that you’re with him, it was hilarious to see how everyone does a double-take at it and becomes the hot topic of the week.

Dick:

The second he sees them; he instantly falls in love and nearly squeals.

“What? No. What? Stop. You didn’t” He holds one of the sweatshirts next to his face, his lips stretching into a wide smile.

To think you’d get matching sweatshirts. Is this your way of claiming him? Or telling others, you’re his?

“Well, they were on sale and looked cute-“

“Cute?” His eyes wide, his lips in the shape of an “o” as if you personally offended him. “Just cute? These are more than cute.”

Then, clenching the sweatshirt in his hand, you yelp when he pulls you close and starts twirling you in the air.

“Dick! Put me down!”

“Not until you know this is one of the best things you could possibly give me.”

He was an absolute pain for the rest of the week, rotating between the two sweatshirts every other day (yes, both even if yours is a tight fit) and annoying everyone from making the sign for people to ask so he can brag about them nonstop while reminding you to wear whatever one he’s NOT wearing whenever the two of you head out. 

Jason:

Oh? Oh. Oh-

It slowly dawns to him what exactly he got and, as soon as it clicks, his cheeks flush while the corner of lips curls up into a grin.

You’re cute. So cute. So damn adorable he might die all over again because of it. It’s obvious that they are, the signs clear as day with one in your size, the other in his.

So many thoughts pass through his mind: the fact that it’s a first for him, you wanting to keep you and him tied together, people within and outside of each other’s circles noticing the two of you are a couple. It’s giving him the butterflies, the good butterflies that makes him want to kick his feet.

“…Well? Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” He gulps, trying to tame the excitement and happiness that threatens to bubble out and lose his composure. “Yeah, I really like it.”

“Like” was a big understatement. On top of getting to go around and show off he was yours; he had fun scaring off every person that tried to hit on you as the sweatshirt gave that needed extra push and paired well with his protective-boyfriend-glare.

Tim:

It’s his birthday. Christmas. Both.

Nonstop, his thumbs brush over the fabric of both sweatshirts.

“Where did you get them?” He asks, his eyes glued and unable to look away.

“Online. Couldn’t resist after seeing some of the couples on TikTok wearing them, you know?”

Oh, don’t worry, he knows. What he doesn’t is how you were able to pull this off behind his back, without him even noticing. He may be busy day and night, but he still keeps tabs on you (you know, him being a vigilante and all doesn’t make him the safest person to really date – er, that’s his excuse anyways).  

Then there’s your indirect confession that you pretty much think about him as much he thinks about you, regardless where he and you are. And that’s-

“Tim? You okay? You look like you have a fever.”

The two of you argue over who’s the one that’s problematic. It’s him who ends up, begrudgingly, being “Somebody’s Problem” though he didn’t mind as much after cuddling with you for a whole day with a kiss stamped on his cheek.

Duke:

Only two words: Hell. Yes.

“And it’s for the two of us?” His eyes sparkling and continuously glancing between you and the gift you gave him.

“That is the idea.”

“Wherever, whenever?”

“If you want to…?”

“At school, on dates?”

“You do realize we go to school that requires a uniform-“You huff and raise your hands up at the look he gives you. “Yes, okay, sure. At school and on dates.”

He winces then turns sheepish, rubbing the back of his head apologetically. He didn’t mean to get this worked up, never having thought or needing a couple's merch. He was fine that he got to be with you. It’s once you give him the sweatshirt, he realizes why so many couples buy them or matching anything in general.

He insists that he wears the other only for you to somehow convince him to wear the sweatshirt with “Somebody”. It takes time to get used to, a bit bashful when his family, Bat and biological, and friends teases him though it was nice to hear from strangers you both made a perfect couple.

Damian:

“What’s this supposed to be?” Despite the heavy judgement in the (rhetorical) question, the corner of his lips continuously twitches.

Common fabric. None of the letters are the same size, and worse, in Comic Sans – they’re not cute; it’s tacky at best. Ugly is what he wants to say and he can if he really wants to. There’s only one problem that stops him: you. Two sweatshirts in similar shades including the thread forms the words, there’s no doubt they were meant to be worn as a pair by a certain pair of people.

Add that to him battling every single person to stay away from you twenty-four-seven, it does a lot of critical damage to him seeing you willingly got something to show you people you’re his.

Suddenly, he scowls, placing a hand over his heart that pounds hard against his chest.

“…Damian, do you not like it? I can always return it and get something el-“

“Who said that I didn’t like it?” He ignores your confusion, keeping the sweatshirts out of your reach out of worry you’d actually take it away from him.

He does give you an earful later after realizing which one was meant for him while putting it on with you, wearing it regardless.

[bloody-noodle]

You know, the bestiality statistic has me absolutely fascinated because I got involved in an uncomfortable conversation with a seemingly porn obsessed, anime loving, incel misogyny podcast watching former childhood white dude friend. We were harmlessly browsing a toy company's website for toy figurines when we came across a few dog plastic figurines

and out of nowhere he goes "Oh hey look, something for you"

and I thought he meant it was because I was a life long animal lover, but no, this guy goes, completely unprompted "because you're a white woman, your species likes to fuck dogs right?"

How does one say something like that to another human being? How does your mind go there at all? Needless to say that weird and creepy comment was the last straw (he was weird and sexual with me before this too),

But seeing this statistic, that men are more likely to engage in beastiality, and yet this stereotype is used against white women specifically. How interesting.

But it got me thinking about how men actually view women. They don't see them as people, they see them as porn categories. Not individuals, but rather various acts of sex.

I don't think men can really view women in a non sexualized manner unless they really put the effort in.

Its why they treat women they deem unattractive with contempt, or that they like to pretend they do not exist. Because to them, she shouldn't

Its incel rhetoric at its finest, in an attempt to devalue the pussy they want so so badly. To turn the woman into the bitch they've always seen her as. Another one of their degradation fetishes. Maybe a coping mechanism for their own lack of desirability? Anyway.

Women are sexualized for absolutely everything, down to fucking pet ownership (look at the narrative men have pertaining to "horse girls" too, funny how we can only exist as stereotypes and categories, not as complex humans). This is how fucking broken their brains are currently.

Men's notions of women, the reality of women are an illusion informed by the pornography they've gone searching for (made for a male audience, female subject or no.) or fantasies they've had. They look down at any media regarding the actual humanity of women, disrespect it with one primary criticism "That's for women", not just media, anything associated with us really. (and people think pornography doesn't affect worldview, lol, piss off with that noise!)

My question is, where are all the derogatory stereotyping regarding men? In specific white men? Is it even possible for them to be degraded in such a way?

Also yes, being spoken to and sexualized in such a fucked up way by a childhood friend was painful. Like the fact that someone who I saw as a brother, his first thought about me was that...fucking speechless.

putting the information from the FBI, the UN and the Department of Defense into an infographic

More Statistics:

Sources:

[serenity-loves-red]

IT STARTED WITH THE CAT DISTRIBUTION SYSTEM

Cat distribution system featuring Phainon.

Part 1. Part 2. (Current) Part 3.

In which• The Deliverer of Amphoreus is suddenly transported to your home as a cat.

Living with your cat has never been this refreshing. Life college may be giving you lemons, at least you now have a cat with you.

Mr. Blue Balls- you named him. A bit(?) unhinge but meh. His eyes are blue and the cat has balls. The cat even looked traumatized, went limp on your arms as if his soul just left his body after you just suddenly flip him over to look at his rear.

He wasn’t even able to look at you for a while an hour, hiding at the corner or under your table when you look at him. It was as if you just stole him all of his dignity. You did, you just didn’t know.

You even have to bribe him with tuna so that he’ll get out of his hiding spot. He’s that embarrassed. And that what makes you want to tease him more.

So you better stock more tuna to bribe him after or else he may not let you cuddle him anymore.

Anyways, aside from teasing your cat, you talked with him. Like a full rambling talk. It’s way better than talking with yourself when you are alone. Now, you have a cat you can talk trauma dump.

Although it seems to be therapeutic for you. But for him? Not at all.

I mean it’s nice hearing you talk–about yourself, your life, problems, etc. Phainon doesn’t mind that at all. What he does mind is that when you talk about this game.

About them, his friends, his world.

Have you ever seen those cat videos where the cat doesn’t seem to know if it’s alive? Just looking at nothingness? Well that’s what happens.

At first you find it cute. It happened after you played with the game. He sat on your lap as you did the trailblaze mission with Mydei. You got busy so you really haven’t really done it yet. So as you played, you keep rambling to him about your pain and resentment about the quest.

*Anaxa died*

“Fuck you Hoyoverse! Why is it always the hot men??!!!”

*10 mins after the start of 3.3*

“OmfG can’t you give me a breakkkk?? Agleaaaaa noo! Fuck you Caenis! Fuck youjsjdhhdvdjsjsvshsk”

So yeah, a bit of mental break down here and there together with your cat that seems to be meowing at it in disbelief.

Cue: existential crisis

Phainon had it hard to accept that all he had experienced was just part of a program of code and game. So he can’t help but to get lost in his thoughts sometimes.

Either staring at nothing or at you. You swear his eyes either glows or flicker from blue to yellow.

It took him about a week to accept everything. He still think of finding a way home though. After all, he still has a world to save. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like it here. He’ll miss you when he leaves.

You may be a bit hyperactive, unhinged roommate/owner?, but you cared for him. Which he is grateful for. And you may or may not have been growing on him.

So yeah, just keep talking and he’ll be listening to you. You are quite cute when you do it after all.

Oh? A livestream for the next patch? He doesn’t know what that is but you can watch it together.

Is-is that me? Holy Kephale he look so coo-

“HOT! That’s MY MANN!!! Plsplspls Phainon go home the kids misses you plsplspls!🙏”

But he’s already home though *meow purrs lick*

He’s still a cat so until then he doesn’t mind giving you cuddles and kisses. I mean how awkward would it be?

He did wonder though how will you react if he turns back to normal.

[rinsnumber1fan]

bunny iglesias is not gentle when he fucks you.

He flips you upside down and hes mean, using his whole body force to pin you down, using his strength to force your head into the pillows so the neighbours don't complain for loud nights anymore.

"hey, hey now, don't be loud" he'd grumble, brows furrowing as his crimson eyes make direct eye contact with you.

His eyes, they made you feel nervous, scared even, they were blood red and it always felt like he was threatening you or undressing you with his eyes whenever he locked his eyes with yours.

It would feel like he's in control of everything. Like he's the boss of your own life just by a single look, and he knows how much it destroys you.

You shift, try to, in your position as you stared back into his eyes, your own being half lidded as he pounds into your flesh like there's no tomorrow. Your gummy walls clench him tightly and an exhilarating moan leaves his lips, he pants, "stretching me out so well, aren't you a little slut?" He'd grab your cheeks and squish them together as he finally hits the spot he's been trying to find.

A loud screeching moan leaves your mouth and he quickly slapped his hand over your mouth, "guess you can't help it." He whispered, pounding into you harshly and roughly.

You panted, soft whimpers left your mouth untill you didn't have any voice left to scream. You murmured out a desperate plea of his name and he knew you were close and he was closer.

"Close?" He'd ask but he knew the answer himself.

"Ye-yes- ah" and your pants were interrupted with more words.

"That's my good little slut, come for me, hm? You'll listen to everything I say won't you?" He cooed and you hated that he was right.

Hated it so much that you wanted to prove him wrong.

"Mmm.. n-no.. youre not.. good enough." You complained, although you knew it was all lies, "can't c-come" you lied through your damn teeth.

He raised a brow at your words, pushing you further down as he applied more weight over you, "is that so?" He scowled, glancing down at you but his scowl shifted into a smile. Not the sweet or the cocky one. The one that screamed "I'm going to wreck you"

He flips you to your front, your on your back now and your face is all messed up, cheeks red and tears dripping down your eyes, "if you really thought I wasn't good enough why are you such a mess?" He furrowed his brows and tilted his head with a sinister smile on his face.

He mocked gasped, "dont tell me," he straightened himself and lined himself against you, "are you lying to me?" He asked. Slowly, and slowly approaching closer and closer like a beast. "W-what-" "yeah. Are you lying to me?" He grabs a chunk of your hair and pulls you up to meet him eye to eye, "you really lied to me hm? You know what happens to liars?" He grabs your jaw and without warning pushes himself inside, making you shake, and scream when he hit the spot youd so desperately wanted him to hit.

"This. This is what happens to filthy, liars." He brusingly grabs your jaw, unable to let go now that he had started pounding into you. "Get it now? You dumb little thing." He cooed, watching you cry in pain and pleasure and finally reach your orgasm.

You finally breathed and relaxed after that,

He kisses your cheek, "oh? We're not done yet sweetie." He grinned and well, let's just say he had the stamina to keep going untill the end of the night.

ummmmmmmmmmmm first time writing for bunny he's kinda bad tho and his eyes seem so lifeless like lemme ride yo dih 🥵🥵

PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENTO

[alwayscorvus]

Hello, can I request Brant from Wuwa who had an argument with male!reader and the reader kinda give him space by avoiding Distancing himself from Brant.

When they both cooled down٫ reader is getting hit on by some lady and Brant swoops in and tells her that's his man :)

Jealousy and yearning

malereader x Brant, fluff; love this! couldn't wait to write this. thanks 4 the request! when I read it, it sounds different than usual, but let's see if you can enjoy it Fck I should focus on the scene that people ask me to do and not make long openings... But I can'ttt

-You always take it out on me!

-I’m just worried about you

-You question my decisions! - Brant threw his hands up in frustration.

-I just think that it’s not the best idea for you to go there. Especially alone -you tried calmly. Though his sharp voice, definitely contrasting with your softer, more composed one, was starting to get on your nerves.

-I won’t be alone!

Not good. As if you were talking to a wall...

-Yeah, you’ll be with some guy you just met

Brant put his hands on his hips, turned his head towards you, and gave you a look filled with something between contempt and boredom.

-Oh please, don’t be jealous

Jealous? You? Was he even serious?

You were probably starting to get angry.

-Don't be silly, i'm not jealous, i just-

-What?! Maybe you want to be a captain yourself?!

He didn’t even let you finish. Only yelled like a madman.

-You know that’s not what I mean -you said, trying hard to keep your voice calm and measured.

You wanted to act mature. Responsible.

You wanted him to understand your point of view. To realize that you didn’t mean any harm.

-But on the other hand, you don’t accept that I am the captain! You knew what you were getting into when you started to go out with me!

Andddd-... that's it.

Your patience has just run out.

-And that's the only reason why I should let you put yourself in danger now!?

You couldn't stand it. Where did your Brant go? Who were you actually just arguing with?

-I was never afraid of risk. If you didn't like it then there was no need to ask me out!

You replied to the loud shouting with visible irony:

-Oh, im so sorry that I fell in love with you

-Yeah! You should be!

...

Ouch.

That hurt.

What was that actually supposed to mean? It didn't make any sense at all. Like the whole argument.

Again, another quarrel. You were young, naive. Full of lively emotions. You often happened to exchange opinions. This stirred up the atmosphere a bit, woken up passion. Sometimes such exchanges were just healthy. You were able to get to know each other's perspectives. Come to some sort of agreement-

But not at this point. Today you crossed some boundaries. Neither of you wanted to compromise. Neither of you wanted to understand the other. Only to make his own stand.

You hated when Brant put himself at risk. When he gambled his life. You couldn't bear to see wounds on his body. To endure his groans of a pain. The thought that you could lose him pierced your heart.

And he didn't understand your fears. He grew up alone. He always knew how to manage himself, how to get out of any trouble. How to survive. He was strong, resourceful. He knew how to take care of himself, without anyone's help. Eventually, from nothing, he became the captain of a great ship. He was capable of a lot.

But sometimes he just forgot that now he didn't have to do it all by himself anymore. That he had you. Someone who wanted to take care of him.

He couldn't understand that your fear didn't come from a doubt in his abilities, but from pure love and a desire to help.

But his words… he certainly didn't mean it. He was surely throwing out random thoughts in emotion. He just wanted to annoy you. To win an argument. And at the same time he wanted for it to hurt.

You couldn't bare it. You didn't want to hear it. You didn't need any more insults.

You also didn't want Brant to go too far. For him to regret later. He would scold himself after and walk around with scolded face.

Despite all the hate and anger you just felt, you loved him so much. You cared about him an his well-being. You had a soft spot for him.

That's why you made the only responsible decision at that moment.

You got up and left.

With a slight slamming of the door.

Despite everything, you were angry. And a hint of immaturity told you to assert your “dominance”. At that moment it didn't sound as silly as it did in the next day.

On the way out you made another decision. That you would give him some space. To let him cool off a bit.

… And also to let it hurt a little.

And that's how your whole morning passed.

And noon…

And afternoon…

And then, the evening came. A tough evening.

It didn't take much for Brant to miss you. He was practically inseparable. You did everything together. And thanks to the fact that you were his right hand on the ship, you weren't even separated by work. While he was behind the wheel, you were studying maps right next to him, consulting with him about next destination of your voyages.

While you were delegating tasks to young sailors, he was watching you with curiosity, sitting cross-legged on a large wooden barrel.

While he was negotiating deals with some suspicious visitors, you always stood beside him, sending them a threatening look as a warning.

Together you checked out new merchandise. Together you went on escapades in new territory. Together you fought and together you spent all your free time.

It's almost surprising, that Brant himself wanted to go on a mission without you. After all, whenever he returned from such tasks, he fell tearfully into your arms and swore that he would never leave you again, because he misses you too much.

Or rather, he made you promise to never to leave him. He felt so helpless without you…

But you guess that history liked to repeat itself.

Brant liked to break off the leash sometimes, driven by sudden emotions. However, he was quickly caught by the abandoned puppy syndrome.

Exactly as in this case.

He didn't notice it at first. The fact that he was eating breakfast alone. The fact that no one was answering crew's stupid questions for him. The fact that no one followed him like a second shadow.

He completely forgot about you.

In the afternoon, however, things began to change.

Something stopped to fit right. Whole situation became suspicious. It was as if something had messed up his routine.

Standing alone on the dock, he didn't know who to smile at. Eating lunch, he had no one to ask for salt. Looking through papers in the office, he had no one to ask for a magnifying glass.

Same goes with performing. In rehearsal, he felt no joy in playing. As if the most important person in the audience was missing and thus the whole point. He didn't feel that piercing gaze following his every move. He didn't hear whistles or applause of satisfaction. Warm words after a good performance or a few longed-for remarks, necessary to improvement in the future.

He began to wonder. He furrowed his brow, walked absent around the ship and bumped into random people. Generously apologizing afterwards.

Some of his comrades asked what happened, if everything was okay. And he just waved his hand at them. They even began to wonder where you were, they wanted to ask for your help. They knew that only you could bring Brant back to normal. However, after meeting you and seeing your firm stare, they didn't even dare to ask. They turned quickly on their heels and forgot about the subject. Allowing you to work out your own problems.

Hours passed. Bloody difficult hours. And Brant finally understood.

All these things were done for him by one particular person. A person who loved to pamper him. To be kind and helpful to him. Even when he was whining. Someone who always made him laugh, listened to him and drowned out the boredom that Brant hated so much. That person was you.

But after all, you couldn't take a grudge against him forever. Right?

Brant decided to show you mercy and help you a little in your attempt to win him back. To give you an excuse to smooth things over so that things could go back to how they used to be.

Proud of himself and with a confident smile, he proceeded to execute his plan.

A small dramatic turn. A fake stumble. And a spectacular fall down the stairs into the abyss of lower deck. Perfect opportunity for you to move from a place not far away and be able to rush towards him. To catch him in your arms.

He specifically chose the right time and place just to feel your strong embrace and security of your closeness.

But he didn't hear any stamping of feet. Only terrified sounds of his companions with definitely poor reflexes.

Shit.

At the last moment, he used his forte to release some rope and grab onto the railing above.

Apparently, today he had to act as his own hero-

Fair enough.

After all, he told you that he could take care of his life and health. It would be foolish to question that now. But after all, it didn't apply to small things…

So he tried again.

But what was his surprise when, while dropping his compass beside you, he failed to get your help.

Only a loud clang and his gasp.

As if you didn't care at all.

Brant looked dumbfounded at the small object lying alone on the wooden boards. Why didn't you pick it up? Why didn't you hand it to him with a warm smile after which Brant could roll his eyes and, after faking seconds of thought, forgive you and let you return to his side? Why didn't you even look in his direction? Why you just walked past, busy talking to other sailor?

Okay.

Disasters happen. Maybe you just didn't notice. Maybe he should sign you up for a medical visit with that poor hearing of yours...

But you certainly must have noticed when he squeezed between dining room table and a bench on which you were sitting. Deliberately arcing his back. So inviting... Exposing his curves that you were so fond of. Just to encourage you- tempt you- make you lose control.

Orrr-… you could.

Things were beginning to call for drastic measures.

But after all, he couldn't apologize. Definitely couldn't. He had too much pride for that. Besides, you taught him this yourself. Brant didn't have to apologize. He wasn't just a captain, he was also like your little bratty princess.

Okay maybe not so little. Mostly not bratty. And for calling him a princess in front of the crew he probably would have thrown you overboard.

But-

You were always the one who made the first move. You liked to do things for him and couldn't stand the thought that he was sad. It was enough for Brant to send you eyes of a beaten up puppy from afar, asking to be taken in, and you were already running towards him and making all your misunderstandings go away.

But not this time.

Dear Jue. Why did you have to be so stubborn.

Especially now. Brant couldn't stand it.

He missed you so much-

He just wanted to soak in the silk sheets and be pampered with kisess by you until all his stresses from today were gone.

He will no longer go alone on any mission. He swears! Just take him back-... Please

Night has come. A period of celebration. That moment when Brant ordered time off for the entire crew. To relax a bit. Too bad that it didn't apply to him as well.

At least not today.

You decided to have some fun. Entire senior staff. You headed out to town, to one of nightclubs. The one with a shaddy reputation.

Rinascita's elite have always fooled around here. Golden spoon generations and those who knew how to crash.

Music here was loud and lights were colorful. Almost like any club, but in that air you could sense that aristocratic shabbiness. Laughs more fake than usual. Ostentatious clink of crystal glasses. And the drops of decades-old liquors that were falling prudently.

Splendor of expensive pearls and precious rhinestones competed with the beauty of personalities not tainted by work. It wasn't hard to feel on oneself mirroring gaze of others. Some searched for the best victims. Hoping to turn one night into a ring on a finger. Others oozed venom into their competitors. Whether they were hoping for a good candidate to settle down or just one for a passionate fun. Everyone was a rival here. Everyone was trying to be the most beautiful. Throwing on their best furs, tight outfits and putting on themselves the best make-up to highlight their features as much as possible. They batted their eyelashes, clicked their heels, playfuly curled hairs on their fingers.

Brant didn't need any of above to draw crowds. Or at least he didn't need to make such an effort. Even without expensive accessories, he unknowingly attracted plenty of suitors.

However, he wasn't thrilled with all the attention. He dismissed all pushy admirers with just a wave of his hand. Normally, he would probably get into a chat with them, make a joke, learn something interesting, maybe tease his boyfriend a little by that…

Today, however, all the whispers in his ear, all the nudges on his shoulders and every attempt to buy him a drink, bounced off him like off a wall.

He was in no mood for playing. And all his attention was focused on one person.

On you.

You were on two opposite sides of the room.

You were seated at a glass table, on a large, red, rounded sofa. He took his place on a modest bar stool, leaning his elbows against the bar top to which his back was turned. Abyss of glittering dance floor separated you both. From time to time the view of each other got blocked with bodies spinning in the dance.

Brant looked at you intensely, while you didn't even grant him with a single glance. It was as if you didn't know he was there at all. And that's probably exactly what happened.

While you were enjoying yourself at your best, drinking another purple drink, he was on tenterhooks. Debating whether to finally break through and approach you.

But he couldn't. His pride wouldn't let him.

Wasn't his presence enough? Didn't just the mere sight of him make you want to pounce on him? After all, it used to be like that… Did you manage to get bored of him already?

Brant bit his lower lip slightly. This situation was beginning to frustrate him and make him start to doubt himself.

He had had enough. These slimy people sticking to his body, this music piercing his eardrums. This club, you and himself. He already wanted to go home and bury himself into a bed. Crying quietly into his pillow and cuddling up to where your body should lie.

At the same time, however, he didn't even have the strength to get up. As if something was depriving him of will to live. Suddenly the vision of returning home alone in black night began to seem frightening. He sneaked down the dark alleys many times, escaping from The Order who tried to capture him. What's more, he always succeeded. And even if… he could walk out of each confrontation unscathed. After all, he was a big man. Postured, strong and persistent. Heck, he was the captain of a ship! After all, that's why you argued in the first place.

But now-…

Now-…

Now he just wished for you to hold him.

Brant lifted his head up, wanting to give you one last longing look.

And then-

Then he noticed something strange.

More specifically, someone who shouldn't be in your company. Someone who was definitely not a part of your crew.

A long-haired blonde woman, in a tight burgundy dress, with far too deeply cut neckline. She smiled flirtatiously at you. As if confident of her success.

With smooth movements she leaned towards you.

Brant felt how it began to boil inside him. And it wasn't due to the crowd of people or poor ventilation.

He took several deep breaths. Tried to calm himself down.

It's not that he couldn't trust you…

But her legs…

Her damn long legs in too high heels that she just threw on your lap!

Oh no. Definitely not!

You sat slightly troubled, feeling the piercing gaze tracing your lips. Gaze of someone you didn't want to feel.

But how did this happen?

At one moment you were chatting with your friends about your latest trip, bragging about your recent catch. And the next, you heard their immature, sneering whistles, suggesting the arrival of someone new.

This someone must have definitely been beautiful and phenomenal if they met with such a reaction.

You were hoping for Brant. You no longer cared about which one of you would apologize. It never mattered to you. You just wanted to feel him snuggle into your side, pretending that nothing had happened and joining your card game. Acting as your best charm and also the perfect source of distraction for your opponents.

Unfortunately. You could only dream. Instead of your confident boyfriend. His tangled sea hair, stunning, playful smile and beaming, curious eyes. You saw some stranger. A woman. Not much different from everyone else here.

That's how you found yourself in this situation. Blonde introduced herself to you by some local name. However, you didn't pay too much attention to it. You wanted to get out of her bony grip as quickly as possible. It wasn't easy though, you didn't want to be rude or make a scene and the only way out was blocked by your friends. Who apparently had a great laugh at your discomfort.

You felt as she traveled over your exposed shoulder with her long red claws and at the same time how she tried to fix her wavy hair. Apparently, this was supposed to be arousing, but for you it only caused unpleasant shivers. Like when you were suddenly attacked by some predatory echos in the wilderness, who tried to get they claws into you.

Woman tried to draw your attention to her colored lips, right after she saw your lack of interest in her exposed breasts. To her misfortune, all her disrespect of your personal space only turned you off.

In your head, you started making up some excuses. Arranging words in a way that wouldn't hurt her fragile ego. Despite everything, you were a gentleman.

You didn't take into your head what she tried to whisper to you. Promise of an unforgettable night, proposal to go to a hotel-

The only place you planned to go after leaving that club was to your boyfriend's bedroom.

Suddenly you felt something on your knee. Something that shouldn't be there. A foreign leg that you planned to push off as quickly as possible.

However, you didn't have enough time.

Loud gasps of your companions rang out all around. Terrified. They already knew how it would end.

-Hey! That's my man

You suddenly heard a firm and confident voice. So familiar to you.

Shocked, you lifted your gaze up at your partner. He stood proudly with his arms propped at his sides and with an unusual aura around him. Not just superiority. Something more emanated from him. Pure, natural beauty.

He didn't need skimpy clothes, cheap tricks or surgical touch-ups to be breathtaking. He was naturally bloody handsome.

Startled woman sprang back from you quickly. She looked horrified at the new company.

You could see the way she kept closing and opening her mouth every now and then. She probably wanted to argue, but she couldn't. It was as if she sensed that she was no match for her rival. You knew subconsciously that she must have launched herself on taken guys more than once. But the sight of Brant was overwhelming for her.

You weren't surprised with her reaction. You also could feel a shiver. Though for you it was more of a thrill of excitement. The way he was fussing about you was almost hot. Your adorable boyfriend, all flushed with jealousy. He glared at the intruder with deadly look. With a hatred stronger than when fighting the toughest opponent. On the battlefield, Brant at least tried to show his enemies some respect. Here, he showed only contempt.

You couldn't lie, you were really proud of your boyfriend. Or that you could be called his partner.

A sort of soft glow radiated from Brant's posture. Something like a warning. Any person who only dared to touch him right now could expect to get knocked down. Same applied to the violation of your person. Everyone present at the table felt that one inch movement in the wrong direction could make Brant snap. In his visions, he was already going for blonde's throat. Proudly fighting for what was his.

She tainted your body, her sultry touch left behind a filth that Brant would have to erase for a long time. He had an overwhelming desire to show this woman where her place was.

After all, he was the only one who was right for you…

But this woman didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve any extra minute to be wasted on her.

Brant didn't need revenge now. He needed you...

So before blonde could summon the courage to make one last gesture of cheekiness. Brant leaned over the table and extended his hand in your direction.

With a broad smile, you took his palm in yours. A pleasant warmth spread through your body. Brant reciprocated your happiness and this time rather pleasant, laughed sincerely. This soothing sound echoed through the room, drowning out the noise. You looked deeply into each other's eyes and everything around you began to fade away. Disappearing into the darkness, as if there were only the two of you. People, music, lights. Nothing mattered when you had each other.

You felt a sudden squeeze and pull towards your lover. Brant clearly wanted to kidnap his boyfriend, and you didn't plan to resist. Squeezing through the space your crew cleared, you let yourself be carried away by the strength of your partner.

And then you just ran.

Ran far ahead.

Laughing loudly and trying not to bump into any obstacle or break your legs on the steep stairs.

With the corners of your mouth raised high.

As long as you're together.

As long as you kept moving forward.

You felt a push towards the bed and a swish of sheets that raised into the air as a response to your rough siting on the edge of a mattress.

Brant looked at you with bent neck and made a small pouty face. Your heart began to beat faster, and you felt yourself slowly melting. You couldn't stay angry any longer. Especially after what he did in the bar. It was hard to hide how madly you liked it.

You spread your arms in an inviting gesture, and he didn't hesitate for even a second.

In the blink of an eye, he crossed the distance separating you both, and in a clumsy manner climbed up your thighs, straddling you. Out of habit, he snuggled into the crook of your neck.

You looked down. At his beautiful, closed eyes, highlighted with a soft pink line. At his heated skin, worn out by the run and heat in the club. At his unbuttoned shirt, perfectly exposing what you found so hard to resist.

You felt his weight, his gentle trembling. The way he wriggled on top of you to find the perfect spot. The way he arched his back and poked your arms trying to get your attention and seek your touch.

He was exactly where he belonged.

Completely swayed with this, you locked him in a gentle embrace and with slow movements began to roll circles on his back. Brant murmured satisfied at this and inhaled the scent of your cologne. Warm and heavy smell of sandalwood surrounded his senses. Man felt as his muscles began to slowly relax, and he unconsciously started to drift off to another realm. Nothing relaxed him more than your scent - scent of home.

-Don't leave me - he eventually muttered with authority into your shirt, to which you only responded with a questioning nod. You also were about to fall asleep from the feeling of high temperature of his body.

-I said don't leave me - he objected louder this time, pulling himself out of your neck and once again squirming in your lap -Don't leave me alone. Not now nor never. Especially for some blond-haired floozy. I am definitely better than her

His statement was more than serious, and you didn't dare question it. Especially now.

-Oh yeah, you are definitely better. I am much more attracted to blue-haired beauties

Brant didn't seem to sense this subtle irony. Or maybe he didn't want to… He breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his spot. Snuggled in tighter, like a cuddly koala. He was arranging himself as if he was planning a short nap on you.

And then you remembered something… You couldn't pass up an opportunity like this. An opportunity to have a little more fun.

Especially when he was so cute and vulnerable, exhausted after a full day of experiences.

-And what about your Rover?

-[M/N]~!

Brant scowled with that pouty face of his, and you snorted at this with genuine amusement.

You couldn't annoy him any longer.

-Okay okay. I'm sorry - you grabbed his cheek and looked deeply into his eyes - I promise I won't leave you again for more than five steps

When you thought that this would more than satisfy him, Brant furrowed his brow clearly displeased.

-No more steps. You must be close

Shit... what had you done to deserve him.

Without waiting any longer, you straightened up and saluted.

-Yes, captain! -you laughed again at the adorable groans of your sleeping boyfriend- No steps. I will be glued to you, so you won't be able to get rid of me

With a smile on your lips, you approached him, as your promise stated, and placed a sweet kiss on his forehead, sealing your words.

[itsblueflamebae]

Hotspot

synopsis: did you just find mac’s hot spot?

wc: 624, without actual programming stuff

cw: suggestive, double-clicking (oh!), mac receiving

notes: read with caution! gender neutral reader. extremely sensitive mac (which is canon, right?). mac x programmer!3dmodeler!reader. yes, i included some 3d modeling shenanigans in text because it’s funnier that way. ignore how bad and inaccurate it is please, and please tell me you understand the word pun with hotspot. potential part 2? not beta-read.

You double-click on the Python tab because… Well, it’s better that way, is it not?

You mostly did your work quickly, in silence of your house, so you could hear the thoughts of quitting and the persuasion to stay for the sake of your salary. But today, your precious glasses rest on the bridge of your nose, and your non-dominant hand is held by Mac. Your fingers are intertwined and their thumb gently glides over your skin.

"Are you sure you don't need the help of a professional?" They asks, peering into your face.

Your fingers tap on the keyboard, and Mac feels it like a dance of your fingertips on their skin. It's so fleeting that it even tickles.

“I am professional, my love. Just sit back and relax," you reply to Mac, smiling contentedly.

hotspot = {

“side”: “right”,

“x”: 50,

“y”: 70,

“icon”: “a”,

“alpha_out”:65

You stop, trying to figure out what's wrong. Your eyes scan the screen once, twice, as your hand reaches for the mouse.

"What are you—" Mac is about to ask, when they feel a new wave of electricity running down their spine.

Of course, you move the mouse so slowly that it's almost painful. Mac bites the inside of their cheek — you're not doing it on purpose, they think, but they're enjoying it. There was a sheen of sweat on their forehead – not enough to wipe off, but it tickled their skin. Just a little more, they thought, if you touched the mouse again, if you clicked the left button twice, their shirt would stick uncomfortably to their back. The skin of their palms was warming.

"I can see you fidgeting," you tell them as soon as you cast a curious glance.

“Have I ever told you how fitting and delightful your glasses look on your face?” They asks, translating the question. “You should wear them more often.”

“So should you,” you say, pointing my finger at their nose.

Ah, that's where you made a mistake.

“alpha_out”: 65,

You didn't put a space, silly.

“MC,” Mac calls you by your name.

“You know, I don't understand why my company needs a hotspot right now. It’s so strange. I'm thinking about adjusting the transparency here, and I'll change the position and depth.”

Mac listened and thought that it wouldn't hurt to change the position, and you could change the depth of where your fingers are. Damn it, do you really not understand what you're doing to their system, or are you pretending? You start typing again. They felt more than a pack of numbers, the order of energies increasing to a gram of staticity, the final dilemma and drama, the output of the reaction percentage, which is akin to zero. Oh, Mac felt something more than just numbers of your code, and craved more, so much more that it was barely balancing on the desire to devour and be devoured.

“alpha_down”: 100,

“alpha_over”: 85,

“action_up”: “script_scenel”,

“z_index”: 10

}

“MC,” they call you again, because you've never looked so hot, all engrossed in your work, explaining something that only the two of you can talk about.

Oh, Mac will overheat soon, and it will be your fault.

You chuckle and wipe your forehead with the back of your forearm.

“Oh, I know,” you smile. “But you'll be patient, won't you?” You stroke your finger up and down, up and down.

Of course they'll wait. Just promise to finish what exactly you’ve done, alright?

[fanged-fanfics]

Wait !! I just thought now.... How about a golden cheese cookie x reader but when Burning Spice Cookie was about to crush her the reader take the hit instead of her, and pass out (but not die), how will Golden Cheese Cookie react ?? Will she regain her strength ??

☆ Even Gold Can Crumble — Golden Cheese x Reader Fic ☆

Genre: Angst || They/them pronouns for reader || Light warnings for descriptions of injury/Burning Spice disabling Reader

A/N: I think this is referencing the fight where her wings got torn so that's what I based it off of, sorry if that's not what you meant! I hope it's enjoyable either way

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

It all fell so fast. You remember only fragments of it, flickering visions of what had transpired. A strong, imposing figure— that Beast. The way he gleefully cut through your land, his loud bark of laughter echoing through your memories. But it had been going so well... with Golden and Smoked Cheese on the rise, they finally had something. But the army proved much too intense

Blindsided by the Great Destroyer, it was over before it could even really begin. A noble act, a mercy— it's all the golden queen strived for. But that same kindness was due to be her downfall. Stopping the boulder to save a creature gave the Beast enough time to sprint ahead. Just as quickly as the boulder had shattered into pebbles, Golden Cheese was sent into the air. Pushed aside, she watched in horror as you'd taken her place in being swept away by Burning Spice Cookie. You remember a hand on your throat, caverns below as you dangled off the edge. There was screaming, and a grip on your arm.. and...

You suddenly woke up. With a choked out gasp, you lunged forward, seeing nothing but the vision of the Spice Army. "Oh dear-! Darling, please-" A familiar voice came. It was faint, almost as if coming through a fog. A hand touched your shoulder, and your head snapped to the direction it came from. Wild eyes met soft gold. Your mind raced, slowly forming together as that same hand rubbed your arm. "My dear, please... it's me. Your Radiance, remember?"

You looked around at the surroundings. A bed, four walls, and... and her. Golden Cheese Cookie. "Golden..? What- what happened?" You asked, voice raw from the lack of use. With a relieved sigh, she cupped your cheeks in her hands "Oh, my treasure... my brave, brave little gem. You saved me" she said. "I- huh?" You repeated. It was as if your brain itself felt numb. You could see the flashes of memories, feel every sensation you did then. But it only came through a little bit at a time into your conscious

"It's okay, take your time" Golden Cheese said. Her voice was soft, soothing to your aching head. She scooted closer to hold you, tugging you in a bit "You poor dear. I'm so, so sorry". "No, no-" you began "I wanted to help. I couldn't let him... I couldn't let him hurt you". "But now you're hurt" Golden Cheese countered, her expression a little more serious "This was my battle. I shouldn't have let you have my fate"

"Please, don't blame yourself" you said, leaning your head on her shoulder "I acted because I wanted to. I just... the thought of his hands on you... it makes me sick". She leaned her head against yours, gently nuzzling you "I should have been stronger. He's my enemy, not yours. And now you've lost..." she began, trailing off

Lost... what? You furrowed your brow in confusion, leaning back. Her eyes were glistening, moisture gathered at the bottom of them. A memory entered your mind. Your arm. It was the last thing the Beast had grabbed of you before you lost consciousness. You quickly looked over, only to have your heart drop. There was nothing. Everything below the shoulder was completely gone. All at once, the pain struck you like a hot iron. It was gone. So much was gone. That Beast had taken everything— and now this. He almost took her too

Grief, rage, pain, all of it swirled in your system like a sickening slurry of emotions. A wave overtook you, your breath coming out short, and nausea settled into you. Golden Cheese immediately wrapped you in her arms, pulling you into her chest. You broke down into sobbing, and she rubbed your back. "I know, I know" she whispered, voice cracking with emotion "I'm so sorry. I should've- I- I'm so, so sorry"

You didn't ease up, tears falling in an endless stream to vent out all the pain. Her arms were your only refuge, her wings wrapping around you for further comfort. She held back tears of her own, walls firmly in place. It wasn't right for her to break down now, not when you're hurting worse than she could've ever feared for you. She kept holding you close, as you cried out all you could physically give. You pulled away eventually, eyes burning as your throat felt raw. Everything was blurry, and you felt lightheaded. Golden Cheese's hand cupped your chin

"My beloved... I won't let this go by unpunished" She began, kissing your forehead "He will pay for this. Every crumb of dough you lost will be repaid in that Destroyer's jam" she promised. Her hands still held you up, letting you lean on her for support as she spoke. "This will not be in vain. I'll make him regret the day he even thought about harming you"

You sniffled, simply letting her hold you. Her words brought comfort, soothing you just enough to give you a flicker of hope. Not a single Cookie could get away with harming Golden Cheese's treasures, especially not you. "Thank you" you said hoarsely "Please, just... be careful. I can't handle if you get hurt too". "Don't spare it another thought" Golden Cheese said, kissing the top of your head yet again "I will avenge you, darling. Just you wait"

[organic-bloodbath]

Our final night

Dae-ho x Reader

Summary: You and Dae-ho participate in the 5th game. Afterwards, you have one last moment to yourselves before the last game.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut

A/N: Ep2 doesn't exist bye. Also, someone skilled please make new gifs of him i'm running out of them.

☆☆☆

Nam-gyu was the first one to be swept off the bridge by his feet, in full panic trying to grab the cross which had landed on the middle.

The game should be easy, right? All you had to do was jump at the correct moment and stay on the bridge. The more you looked at it, the thinner it seemed to get.

You turned around to face Dae-ho who was standing closer to you than you thought. The two of you had become close friends during the games, even though you had been there for barely a week. Still, you had never formed such a close bond with someone in such a short timeframe.

For a moment you hesitated but as your eyes met, you grabbed his face in your hands and pulled him into a deep kiss.

Dae-ho hadn't expected you to do so, to kiss him in front of everyone, although not many paid any attention on the two of you. He froze still, not knowing what to do with himself, but he didn't pull away either.

When you pulled away, his cheeks had turned slightly pink.

"Oh," he sighed, completely taken aback.

"Just in case, you know," you whispered and smiled.

Then, it was his turn to step on the bridge. Dae-ho took a deep breath in and tried to look all confident under your gaze. You trusted him to pass this game, he had to make it – so did you. The image of you falling down, body hitting the ground in his head, was making him anxious and even nauseous. He wouldn't be able to watch that happen if he was to survive himself first.

It was easy, of course it was. Jump, step forward, jump, step forward, jump, step... don't look down – fuck, of course he looked down. They were higher than he had first thought, a few bodies scattered on the floor, bones crushed in a pool of blood.

Dae-ho still felt the ghost of your lips on his. God, how much he wanted to do it again. Survive and have one more – no, many more chances to kiss you again.

"Come on, man," a guy behind him groaned. "Move already."

Deep breath, concentrate. Clear your mind from everything else, Dae-ho forced himself to think. Jump, step, jump. Dae-ho had the urge to look behind him and see how you were doing but he couldn't, no. He just had to trust you. In previous games he was able to help you but not in this one. You could do this on your own, he was sure of it. Still, when Dae-ho glanced down again, he imagined one of the bodies belonging to you.

Eventually, Dae-ho made it. He managed to cross the bridge all the way without falling. Passing the 5th game. God, how long you had all come.

Your legs were shaking, there was only a little left, not more than maybe five metres. It would be embarrassing to die now. Have one last look into Dae-ho's eyes until the rope would hit your legs and push you into your death.

You jumped to the platform with other players who had passed the game, falling right into Dae-ho's arms. He catched you easily and wrapped his arms tightly around you, soothing your back with his hand.

"We did it," you chuckled against his chest. One more step closer to home.

Dae-ho pushed you off him for a moment, just to pull you back, his hand now on the back of your neck and the other on your waist. He pressed his lips on yours, keeping you hard against him as the kiss deepened more and more.

☆☆☆

"Get a room," one guy remarked with a smirk as he looked at you and Dae-ho.

Only 10 people were left. 10 fucking people out of the original 456. You couldn't have imagined to be one of them.

You

Dae-ho

Gi-hun

Jun-hee and her baby

Hyun-ju

Myung-gi

And a few other guys whose names you did not know but were definitely a pain in the ass.

That night as you were having the special dinner, congratulating how far all of you had come, for a second you tried to ignore the fact that there was still one more game left and not everyone were going to survive. It was obvious, all of you wouldn't be going back home.

Dae-ho was sitting at the table next to you, eating his food and noticed you zone out a little.

"Y/N? Are you feeling alright?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Were you hurt but just didn't tell anyone? He gently laid his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah. Yeah, i'm fine. It's just been... a lot," you said, breath shuddering.

After the dinner, Dae-ho pulled you into a warm hug.

"We'll get home," Dae-ho whispered.

"You can't know that. What if –"

But Dae-ho silenced you by pressing his lips on yours, taking you into a sudden kiss.

"Let's just enjoy tonight without thinking about what happens tomorrow," Dae-ho said, his warm hand on your cheek, thumb soothing your skin. You leaned your head against his hand.

When it was time to go to sleep again, you crawled into Dae-ho's bed, cuddling with him and pressing your head on his chest. You pulled a blanket over both of you, keeping you safe in its warmth and protection.

You wanted to talk about tomorrow and what was going to happen but you knew you shouldn't. It was tomorrow's problem. Tomorrow's pain. If this was your last moment with Dae-ho, you had to use it.

"Are you tired?" you whispered while he brushed your hair with his fingers.

"Not really," Dae-ho replied, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to fall asleep quickly, so many thoughts storming inside his head.

You lifted yourself up to lean on your elbows and be able to look at him in the eyes. You gently rubbed his chest.

"What is it?" Dae-ho asked. You glanced at his lips, bringing your face closer to his. Dae-ho unintentionally held his breath, wondering what you were intending to do.

Then, you kissed him.

You crawled on top of him, slowly, his hands finding their way on your hips, keeping you still.

"Are you sure?" Dae-ho whispered, breaking the kiss and looking into your eyes.

"I'm sure, Dae-ho," you replied. "Make me forget all of this for a moment."

You were ready to stay on top of him but instead he gently flipped you around and switched places with you, now being the one on top.

He continued the kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth past your teeth when you had opened your mouth enough.

He put his hand on your lower stomach, playing with the waistband of your pants.

"May i?" Dae-ho asked, looking into your eyes.

You nodded. "Yes. Please."

He started to push your pants down with your help, doing the same to himself as well. God, he wanted this as much as you did. You, all of you. Every inch of you just for himself, but he hadn't dared to make the first move on you. You had become way too precious and important to him in this short time just for him to ruin it all if you didn't feel the same.

"Tell me if you want to stop. Any moment i go too far, alright?" he whispered.

"Okay," you breathed out, biting your lip.

When he was inside you, your legs wrapped around his waist, it was perfect. Like this was what you had craved for years and the need was finally fullfilled.

He pushed your hands against the mattress on both sides of your head as he made love to you. Nobody had been so gentle with you before, taking all the time to make sure you were comfortable and felt good. Having you as the priority.

You had to stay quiet not to wake anyone up and draw their attention to you. Moans were forcing to escape your throat but Dae-ho's hungry kisses sucked them into his mouth instead, silencing you the best he could. He wanted this moment to be yours, only yours, and not let anyone else spy on you.

When you were about to come, you slammed your hand on your mouth as hard as you could to muffle the screams of pleasure trying to wake everyone up. Your back arched, shoulder blades digging deeper into the mattress and nails digging into his back.

You brushed hair out of the way on Dae-ho's face, forehead sweaty.

"Was it... was it good?" Dae-ho asked, sounding a little insecure.

You couldn't even verbally describe and explain how good it made you feel. How good he made you feel, erasing all the stress and worries flaming inside you just for a short moment.

"It was amazing, Dae-ho," you smiled and planted a quick kiss on his cheek.

"You're amazing, Y/N," Dae-ho whispered, the look in his eyes making your heart flutter.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep in his arms, limbs tangled with each other. Dae-ho stayed awake just a little longer, just looking at your beautiful figure for a moment. You looked so peaceful when you were asleep.

Eventually Dae-ho's eyes grew heavy as well, taking him into sleep along with you. If this was your final night alive, at least you spent it in the arms of a man who gave you the most comfort and feeling of safety in this horrible, cruel place.

☆☆☆

[formulafanfics13]

Just The Tip - LH44 🔥

Masterlist

He always knew he'd be the one to take it from her.

Lewis saw it in the way she touched him, hesitant, reverent. Like he was something divine. A little too famous, a little too beautiful, a little too old for her, but still hers. The way she looked at him with glassy, wide eyes and flushed cheeks whenever he whispered in that low, velvet voice. The way her breath caught when he pressed her down into silk sheets, kissed her neck, held her chin between his fingers and said, "Good girl."

She wasn't ready. She told him so early. He respected it. Of course he did. A gentleman, always, slow hands, soft kisses, no pressure.

But he's not a saint. He never fucking was.

And tonight... tonight she's spread out under him like a dream. Skin flushed, eyes glossy, hips twitching with every teasing stroke of his fingers. She's been trembling since he took her top off, even more when he slid her panties down her thighs and pressed slow kisses up the inside of them.

"You're so fucking sweet down here," he murmured against her, licking her until she cried. "So pure. You taste like innocence."

She didn't stop him when he said it. Didn't pull away. Just whimpered his name and grabbed at his dreadlocks, whispering please, please, Lewis, until he had her begging for release like it was oxygen.

And now?

Now she's bare. Glowing. Wrung out and desperate and pliant beneath him, thighs parted around his waist, slick between her legs so perfect it's making his self-control disintegrate by the second.

His cock twitches against her entrance.

She stiffens.

"I thought you said-"

"I did," he interrupts, voice like silk, fingers brushing along her jaw. "And I meant it. You're not ready to lose it. That's okay, baby. I'd never take that from you without your permission."

He waits. Watches her chest rise and fall like she's trying to breathe normally. Watches the panic ease just enough for her to nod.

"But..." he continues, and his hand slides between her thighs again, gently stroking her folds, "you know what is okay?"

Her lips part.

"Just the tip."

Her eyes widen.

"I promise," he says. "Not even an inch. Just the tip. You won't lose it, I swear. I just want to feel you, baby. Just a taste. Just let me inside for a second, alright? Just the tip. I'll pull out right after. Nothing more."

She's quiet. Thinking. Trusting.

And it kills him, how much she trusts him. How much she wants to please him. How innocent she is. How easy it would be to wreck her whole fucking life right now and she'd still look at him like he hung the stars.

"...Okay," she whispers.

He doesn't waste a second.

Not even a breath of hesitation before he lines himself up and slowly, slowly, starts to press in. The head of his cock parts her tight, wet entrance like her body was made for him. He groans low in his throat, a raw, hungry sound he tries to swallow but can't. She's so tight. So fucking tight it feels unreal.

She gasps. Hands fly to his arms.

"Oh my god-"

"Shh," he whispers, leaning in to kiss her temple. "It's okay. That's it. That's just the tip."

It's not. Not anymore.

He pushes a little deeper. Barely an inch. Just enough to feel her tighten, flutter, tremble. Her back arches.

"Lewis-wait-"

"You're doing so good," he murmurs against her cheek. "So good, baby. It's just the tip, I promise."

She relaxes. Slightly. Whimpers. Nods.

He pushes deeper.

Half his cock is inside her now. She doesn't even realize. She's too focused on the way he whispers sweet things, you're so pretty, baby girl... you're taking Daddy so well... I knew you were perfect inside too.

And she believes him.

She believes it's still just the tip.

He watches her face the entire time. Watches the way her expression flutters between pain and pleasure, how her lashes flutter, her mouth falling open in tiny gasps, thighs trembling around him. She's wet enough to take it, but her walls squeeze him so tight it borders on unbearable.

Lewis's hands are shaking from the restraint. He wants to ruin her. Wants to grab her hips and thrust, claim what's already his, push until she screams. But he doesn't, not yet. Not fully. He takes his time, presses in another inch while still lying.

"It's still just the tip, baby. Promise."

Her eyes roll back. "It feels like more..."

"It's not," he lies again. "I'd never lie to you."

He's balls-deep now.

He hasn't stopped.

But he's still whispering it, soft and reassuring, "just the tip... just the tip... just the tip"—like a mantra, even as her virginity shatters around him and she has no fucking idea.

It's not until he starts to move that she realizes.

The shift is subtle at first. His hips rolling, slow and controlled. Barely pulling back, just enough to thrust forward again with a little more force. Her legs tense. Her back arches. She gasps.

"Wait- what- are you moving?"

He kisses her throat. "You're doing so well. You're so tight, baby, I can't help it. You feel too fucking good. I'll be gentle, I swear."

"Lewis-" Her voice breaks. "You said-"

"I know what I said."

His tone darkens. Not angry, just serious. Commanding. The mask slipping.

"But baby girl, I couldn't stop even if I tried. You feel too fucking good. You're mine now, okay? All mine."

And then he fucks her. No more pretending. No more just the tip.

He drives into her with slow, deep strokes, letting her feel all of him, every inch of thick, throbbing cock stretching her out, claiming what no one else ever has. Her hands claw at his back. She's moaning now, loud, broken, confused. Caught between pleasure and shock. Her body doesn't know whether to cry or come.

"You lied to me," she whispers.

He smiles against her neck.

"I did," he murmurs. "And I'd do it again."

One hand snakes under her thigh, hiking her leg up so he can fuck her deeper. The other finds her throat not choking, just resting there, firm enough to make her feel it.

"Because you're mine, baby," he says. "Always were. Always will be."

She doesn't answer.

She just moans.

And he takes her virginity with lies on his tongue and love in his voice, because Lewis Hamilton knows how to make destruction feel like devotion. He whispers filth into her ear, my sweet girl, my tight little virgin, I'm so deep inside you now no one else will ever fit, until she believes him.

Because she wants to.

Because being ruined by someone you trust hurts in a way that feels almost holy.

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

Can I request something bittersweet?

Headcanons about the Lookism guys (1st gen Kings, Allied, Big Deal) breaking up with their girlfriend!

Not because they lost feelings but because they're afraid being around them could hurt her.

Thanks for always making me smile with your writings 💕

I'll do it in parts and take up ALLIED and others afterwards. Oh, and thanks for your lovely words it made me so happy 🥹🥰

Characters: James Lee , Kitae Kim, Jaegyeon Na, Jinrang, Jichang Kwak , Seongji Yuk , Taesoo Ma.

JAMES LEE

He changed identities, changed names, changed his hair color, and in all these transformations, you were the only constant. But now, everything feels harsh. Almost impossible. Even if he is the legend, the one-man circle, he can't bear the thought of being the reason something happens to you. He never could.

So, he lets you go.

With his hair now black and his heart bruised a deep, painful purple, he lets you go—even as you cry and pound your fists against his chest. He holds still, says nothing, and a single, solitary tear rolls down his cheek.

He has let you go.

KITAE KIM

It started with him pushing you aside. Then his hand rose, just a little higher than your voice, and the fear, the horror on your face, told him everything.

You were his…

And he was still his father's son.

A bitter truth, no matter how anyone tries to sugarcoat it. Even if he is Kitae Kim, people will always add the last part: son of Gapryong Kim.

After endless arguments and cold silences, after long nights and bitter memories, he remembered what his mother had gone through. He realized, perhaps too late, that women suffer most at the hands of those closest to them, not strangers.

So, with cold eyes and sunken cheeks, he barks at you to leave. Tells you to piss off. Pushes you away.

And it breaks his heart even more… because he sees that flicker in your eyes.

Not happiness.

But relief, tinged with sadness.

JAEGYEON NA

It started with sneak attacks. Then came the tracking. He thought he had it all under control, but no, he was still just a young man. And how much can one young man protect?

Still, for you, he tried. Went above and beyond.

But it was never enough.

They kept tabs on you. Your name was still on their lips. James Lee, that bastard—even said your name.

So Jaegyeon made a decision.

With a heavy heart and a swollen cheek, after you'd slapped him in disbelief when he said it:

He was bored of you.

You stood there, horrified.

But he knew this lie was safer than the truth.

You left in silence.

Later, alone in his car, he broke down.

Fists clenched, voice trembling, tears falling, he cursed the world again and again, for being so damn cruel.

JINRANG

After losing his brother and comrades, he refused to lose you too. He couldn't bear the thought of standing at your funeral.

But what good was his strength now? With only one hand left to fight, how could he protect you?

So he begged you. Pleaded with you to find someone better. Someone whole.

Even as you told him again and again that you only wanted him, he stood his ground. Said he couldn’t bear to watch you get hurt. He said he’d rather lose you now than forever.

Tears streaked down his face as he broke, and for the first time, you did what you never thought you could: you let go.

JICHANG KWAK

He told you plainly, straight and simple, that he couldn’t be the man you could spend your life with. Not even in the countryside.

Holding your hand firmly, he said it couldn’t go on like this. His dream had always been to keep you and his brothers safe and happy. But reality was cruel, and he couldn’t keep dragging you into this muddy world, no matter how loudly his heart screamed otherwise.

And so, he got on his knees, not to propose, but to explain. A desperate, trembling explanation for why he had to let you go. He was on his knees, but for all the wrong reasons.

You just stood there, dazed. You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You simply said your goodbyes, knowing, deep down, that he meant it with love.

SEONGJI YUK

The Shaman was spiraling, sending people, monsters. God knows what. And that last kid? Seongji barely won.

So what happens next time?

That fear festered into resolve. He made the decision: he had to let you go.

Coldly, bluntly, he told you to stop playing house. To get the hell out of there.

And you, furious, heartbroken, you threw his deepest insecurity back in his face. Told him an animal like him would never be able to hold on to happiness.

Then you left.

Left behind the man.

Left behind the broken thing.

And Seongji collapsed onto the floor, tears soaking into the dirt as he cried, for everything he ruined and loved.

TAESOO MA

It was frustrating. Agonizing. Humiliating.

No matter how hard he trained, no matter how far he pushed himself,he could never defeat James Lee. That bastard remained out of reach, untouchable.

And now, it wasn’t just about him anymore. New enemies were rising on the horizon. A war was brewing on the sidelines. And in war, people became animals. In war, decency wasn’t even an afterthought.

So, after returning from Busan, bloodied, weary, and too aware of the stakes, Taesoo made a decision.

As a man who truly loved you, as someone who once vowed to protect you at all costs, he chose to do the hardest thing.

Let you go.

Even if it meant playing the villain.

Even if it meant watching you cry, scream, beg.

Even if it meant you’d hate him.

Because in the long run, he believed, no, he knew, you’d be safer, happier without him.

And that’s what love meant to him.

[evieskies]

CHAPTER 8: LIKE A COMPLETE BITCH

POV: 2nd Person.

— Word Count: 1k+.

Warnings: Depressing themes. Self deprecating thoughts.

Author’s Notes: No beta reader, we die like Neji🫡 Something short and sweet.

I just want my best friend back. 

Felix’s text flashed in your mind persistently, a nagging feeling that made you feel like the biggest bitch in the world. 

But why did Jisung blame himself for your accident? You couldn’t think of a moment between you two to cause it.

You must have said something to him that night. Something you don’t remember. 

Something that caused him to shut down over the last year and a half. 

Your hands smoothed over the floral duvet you had just laid down and you let out a heavy sigh. 

“That doesn’t sound good.” 

You looked over your shoulder and to Chan standing in the doorway to your room. Well, technically 3RACHA’s guest room. 

“What’s wrong?” Chan asked, stepping further into the room. “Did Changbin not dust good enough? He was in here for a good two hours cleaning.” 

“No it’s not that,” you said sitting down on the queen sized bed. “It’s great in here. Really. Thank you again for letting me stay. I owe you.”

Chan smiled at that and sat next to you. “You don’t owe us anything.” He gave a playful nudge to your knee with his own. “So what is it?” he asked. “Jisung?” 

You nodded, your head dropping. “I feel like shit,” you said. “Like a complete bitch right now.” 

“You are not a bitch, Y/N.” 

“I am though. He blames himself. And probably for something I said that I can’t remember.” 

“You don’t know that,” Chan said. “And even if you did say something, you can fix it. You can apologize. Talk to him about it. Jisung will understand.” 

“Being in pain doesn’t excuse what I said, Chan,” you grumbled. 

“Y/N,” Chan said, voice firm. He grabbed your hand. “You almost died.” 

Your eyes met his and your heart clench at the pained look he gave you. 

“That night we nearly lost you, do you understand that?” He said. “All of us. We didn’t think you were going to make it to the morning. Hell, even your doctor was shocked when you woke up the next day. It was a miracle. All of us were hysterical when he told us you were going to be okay. I think Felix almost fainted from relief.”  

You pouted a little. “I actually think that was the first time I’ve ever seen Minho or Seungmin cry.” 

Chan laughed a little— though strained. “Those two love you. Way too much. Even if they deny it.” His expression turned more serious. Darker. “Especially Minho. I don’t know what would happen to him if we had lost you. I… I don’t—“ 

“Please don’t say it,” you muttered. 

Chan hummed a little. “He almost went to jail for you.” 

“Yeah I know,” you said. “I was right there for the the screaming match remember? In my hospital room. At eight am. I yelled at them to shut the fuck up.” 

That got a genuine laugh out of Chan this time. “Oh my god I remember that. The trucker just came to apologize.” 

“And then Minho punched the guy in the face and broke his nose,” you said. You cringed a little at the memory. “The blood. So gross.” 

“Definitely not his uh… best moment?” 

“Does he have a best moment?” 

“He would beat you if he heard you say that,” Chan chuckled. 

You gasped, offended. “No he would not.  He loves me as much as he loves his cats, remember?” 

“No?” Chan asked confused now. “When did he say that?” 

“When he was shitfaced at your birthday party last year,” you said with a triumphant grin. “He FaceTimed me— in the bathroom, might I add— whining about how much he missed me. Sadly that was before I knew I was coming back, so I couldn’t comfort him much.” 

“You should have recorded it.” 

“Now that probably would end up with me getting my ass beat.” 

The two of you shared a look before breaking down into a fit of laughter. 

“God I can only imagine that,” Chan wheezed. “He had to have been completely gone.” 

“It was your party!” You squeaked. “You don’t remember how drunk he was?” 

“No because I was gone too. I do not remember that night at all.” 

You blinked at him before shaking your head in disbelief. “Good lord,” you muttered. “I go to America for sixteen months for therapy and you all turn to alcohol.” 

“That’s why all of us are so happy you’re back now,” Chan said. “Even Jisung.” He squinted at you. “And I can’t believe you think he hates you. I think that is the wildest thing that you have ever said.”

“I hurt him,” you said voice small now. “And something makes him think that my accident is his fault.  

“Look,” Chan said. “The two of you have always had a weird push- pull relationship. You two were worse than him and Hyunjin used to be when you first met. Some of the fights you’ve had have genuinely scared me. But then you’d go back to just… neutral? Like the fight never happened and you could semi-stand each other again? Then take your first year of university. You two hung out with each other multiple times. By yourselves. And for some reason were perfectly fine.” Chan shook his head. “Don’t even get me started on that. It gave me whiplash.”

“We shared classes that’s all,” you said with a shrug. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say. But my point is— you two have been through so much together. And you guys almost developed an actual friendship before your accident. So, this, whatever this is that has happened between you two. I think it can be solved. You know, if you actually talked to one another.” 

“I know.” You sighed. “And I should have apologized to him before I left for America. I had two full months of rotting in that damn hospital room to do so.” 

“Mistakes are made. They make you human. Take the chance to fix it.” 

“How will I do that when he’s not here?” you ask.

“Break in to his studio like Minho suggested,” Chan said. “You and him are probably the only people Jisung has never kicked out of it before. Hell, he’s let you sleep on his studio’s couch before, remember?” 

“Yeah…” you trailed off. 

Chan gave you his annoying endearing goofy grin and nudged your shoulder again. “Go fix this so we can all get annoyed with your two’s bickering again. Please. We miss it.”

< PREVIOUS | NEXT >

Infrunami Masterlist

Taglist (Open): @masterguccio @estella-novella @y2kur0mi @maddy24207 @fackeraccount @machaandlofi @sillyhal @heusalettle @ysljoon @ot8girlfie @ateez-atiny380 @alisonyus @nightmarenyxx @zenlackszen @pochacco-baby @seungminnieinthebuilding @skzsmylife @soona-huh @peskybirdysya

[miodiodavinci]

also, i went ahead and compiled a version of the salvador comic below the cut with a transcript to make it a bit more translator/screen reader friendly w

please enjoy ! ! !

FRAME 1: A closeup of Ayano with her hands steepled. Ayano: Okay. Ayano: Has anyone here... Ayano: Ever...

FRAME 2: The camera zooms out to reveal Ayano is speaking to Hazel, Mio, and Rufous. The name tags at the bottom read, from left to right: Hazel: Ayano's dev .. Ayano: SALVADOR's (the word "crush" is crossed out) .. Mio: SALVADOR's dev. The text "Rufous is here, too..." is faintly off to the side. Ayano: ... Actually seen SALVADOR smile? Hazel: (Oh boy...) Mio: (So that's what this is about...)

FRAME 1: A closeup of Hazel, who looks concerned. Hazel: One time I went to his shop to drop off some old phone adapters I had laying around, and he like...

FRAME 2: Hazel winces as she imagines SALVADOR. He looks very exhausted and is mumbling, "You had them, yay..." Hazel: ... twisted his face into something kind of resembling a smile?

FRAME 3: A closeup of Mio, who is looking down and thinking. Mio: Last time I took him out for lunch, I thought I was getting close. Faintly, there is a doodle of Mio cheering on SALVADOR, saying, "Let me treat you!" SALVADOR is rubbing his neck and meekly saying, "If it's okay..."

FRAME 4: Mio looks off to the right with a sad smile. Mio: But somehow they managed to get his order wrong, so he ended up just kind of sitting there feeling sorry for himself, and then feeling bad for feeling sorry for himself when I was treating him... Faintly, there is a doodle of SALVADOR crying while eating a smelly fish. Mio: (It was kinda cute...)

FRAME 1: Rufous is staring directly at the camera. His dialogue box looks like it's from a video game. Rufous: I can expand my SALVADOR Smiling Album by using my 👁Inspect skill when SALVADOR is smiling.

FRAME 2 is the same as FRAME 1, except Rufous is silent. FRAME 2 and 3 are identical.

FRAME 4: Rufous opens his mouth to speak. Faint text at the bottom says, "This is Rufous, by the way." Rufous: My SALVADOR Smiling Album is currently empty.

FRAME 1: Ayano is shouting at the camera, looking deeply distressed. Ayano: This is insane!

FRAME 2: Ayano's shouts carry over, but she's not in frame. The camera is focused on SALVADOR as he walks through the door holding a box in his arms. He looks confused. The door sound effect says, "Ding ding." Ayano: There have literally been four pairs of eyes on this nerd for, like, five years! And somehow none of us have ever seen him smile!? Ayano: Literally how!

FRAME 3: SALVADOR walks up behind Ayano and sets down his box. She's sweating and looks nervous. The sound effect says, "Sets box down." SALVADOR: ... What are you guys doing? SALVADOR: (Why are you huddled on the floor of my shop?)

FRAME 4: Ayano jabs a finger at SALVADOR and shouts. SALVADOR is bristling with terror. Ayano: You! Smile!

FRAME 5: A closeup of SALVADOR. He looks deeply confused and concerned. SALVADOR: ???

FRAME 6: A closeup of Ayano as she shouts even louder. Ayano: D-do it!

FRAME 7: SALVADOR panics and attempts to smile. His smile looks forced and painful.

FRAME 1: A wide shot showing Hazel, Mio, Rufous, and Ayano on the left staring silently at SALVADOR on the right, who is apprehensively waiting for their reaction.

FRAME 2: Everyone except SALVADOR huddles in, mumbling to each other. Beside them, SALVADOR practically explodes with anger. ???: It's no use, huh? ???: Maybe they didn't include it in his dev kit? ???: They literally never taught him how to smile... That's so sad... SALVADOR: I literally know how to smile!!

FRAME 1: Later, SALVADOR is thinking to himself. He's frustrated and has his arms crossed. SALVADOR: "Doesn't know how to smile..." Yeah, right! I practically smile all the time!

FRAME 2: SALVADOR shuts his eyes and frowns deeply. SALVADOR: Like for instance, when I... He pictures himself looking surprised but otherwise expressionless. The text pointing to him reads, "Got complimented," and "Not smiling."

FRAME 3: SALVADOR opens his eyes, looking a little nervous. SALVADOR: Um, I—I mean like... He pictures himself holding a small computer part and looking very exhausted. SALVADOR: (Oh thank God, I still have one left.) The text pointing to him reads, "Saved himself $400," and "Not smiling."

FRAME 4: The camera zooms in on SALVADOR, who is now sweating a looking very upset. SALVADOR: Like when I... He pictures himself crying very pathetically. The text pointing to him reads, in all caps, "Not smiling."

FRAME 5: A very wide shot of SALVADOR looking utterly devastated.

FRAME 1: A closeup of SALVADOR as he looks off to the left, looking worried and concerned. SALVADOR: Surely, back then at least, I... A picture of SALVADOR in his former idol outfit is seen faintly behind him. He's smiling, but most of his face is scribbled out.

FRAME 2: SALVADOR winces as he recalls the full picture. His idol self looks disheveled and is singing absently, tears falling down his cheeks.

FRAME 3: A wide shot of SALVADOR turned away from the camera, slumping over slightly as he holds his cheek. SALVADOR: Do I actually... not know how to smile?

FRAME 1: Ayano walks through the door, looking off to the side. Ayano: Yo, old man—you in here? Ayano: (Why the hell are all the lights off?) Ayano: Aiko said she'd let me borrow her dad's dirt bike, so I want to look online at which fireworks are—

FRAME 2: The camera watches over Ayano's shoulder as she stares at SALVADOR expressionlessly. SALVADOR is frozen at his desk. He has a mirror and notepad beside him and is looking at the WikiHow page for "How to Smile" on his computer.

FRAME 3: The camera is now over SALVADOR's shoulder, watching as the two stare at each other motionlessly.

FRAME 4: Ayano turns and leaves. SALVADOR starts to sweat and shake. SALVADOR: H... Hey...

LATER...

FRAME 1: Ayano leans on SALVADOR's desk, interrogating him as he crosses his arms and huffs. Ayano: Is it really bothering you that much? SALVADOR: I'm not saying I don't smile!

FRAME 2: A closeup of Salvador as he frowns. SALVADOR: But is... is it really...

FRAME 3: The same shot as before, but SALVADOR hunches over slightly and looks away, looking a little ashamed. SALVADOR: ... that... hard to tell when I'm happy...?

FRAME 4: Ayano stares back at him, looking a little unsure of herself. She's losing her resolve.

FRAME 5: Ayano looks away, blushing a little. Ayano: 'Course not.

The top frame shows SALVADOR looking back in surprise as Ayano's dialogue surrounds him. The bottom three frames show Ayano's reaction as she speaks. At first, she speaks loudly and plainly with her eyes shut in defiance. Then, she seems shocked by what she's saying. She finishes by looking away and gritting her teeth. Ayano: You're happy when you're sorting things like your screws or your wrenches... Ayano: You're happy when you find old junk or stuff you thought you lost... Ayano: You're happy when someone brings you a treat, and—uh... Ayano: You're, um... Ayano: Y-you get happy about a bunch of nerd shit most people could care less about.

FRAME 1: Ayano gets up and storms off towards the camera, holding her hand up to block her face and prevent SALVADOR from seeing. SALVADOR is staring at her in shock. Ayano: A-anyway...! Ayano: As for the smile, don't bother practicing it.

FRAME 2: Ayano waves back to SALVADOR without turning around. Ayano: Yours doesn't look half bad.

FRAME 3: SALVADOR stares back in total shock, his face completely red. He's lightly surrounded by bubbles.

FRAME 4: SALVADOR bashfully tucks his hand to his cheek and smiles to himself, surrounded by flowers. SALVADOR: "Not half bad"...?

Meanwhile, outside SALVADOR's shop.

Ayano is steadying herself on a brick wall with a hole in it. There's a scuff mark on her forehead implying that she made the hole by bashing her head into it. Ayano: I need him. Ayano: Carnally.

[sh1-n0bu]

https://www.tumblr.com/sh1-n0bu/786706354567053312/some-things-humans-do-that-seems-like-self

As someone who has acne scars/small curators all over their face, how would Yautja react to the their human mate having many? Would they see acne scars as special markings since there are many humans that don’t have it, or are less noticeable? I don’t know anything about the predator movies so I’m going into this fandom completely blind haha

oh no worries anon, i was going into the fandom completely blind when writing my yautja thirsts as well lol. but now i have finished watching every yautja movies there are so, hopefully i know some things about their race

personally, i believe your yautja mate would adore it! whenever the yautjas are unmasked in the movies, they have skin texture as well. bumps, scales, exoskeleton etc are all common things you can find on the head part or their whole body when unmasked so if your yautja mate finds that you have acne scars, acnes or things that would give your skin ‘texture’ — AKA make them bumpy, rigged or have some facial hair — they would absolutely adore it. their human mate is just like them!

if you have scars, they would be curious. their ‘ooman has scars! battles! fights! they have prevailed against all odds and came out victorious! they knew they chose right, their sweet little ‘ooman is as strong as they are cute. they can hold their own. if feeling particularly curious, they might even ‘ask’ about them, pointing at a scar with their clawed finger and clicking their mandibles in great curiosity

if you’re the more adventurous type and go on hunts alongside them, despite being worried — i mean come on, humans are fucking tiny compared to yautjas and doesn’t have extra padded muscles or bones to withstand great amounts of pain and injury like them — they will allow you to join under the condition of being close to them at all times. and if by some blind luck or stupid bravery, you are to kill a prey, they will be willing to mark you, leaving a scar on your skin proving that you’re blooded all the while they preen in satisfaction

it’s not the little flinch or the gritting of your teeth when they cut your skin and leave the blooded mark behind that makes them preen. no, it’s the fact that their ‘ooman had joined them in a hunt and had successfully killed a prey that makes them preen. even more so if it’s a hard-skin AKA xenomorph. they always knew their ‘ooman was one of great strength and courage. this incident will only prove to them and their clan more of your worthiness

if you don’t choose to join him on his hunts, that’s okay as well. your yautja only wants you to be safe, away from harm. but that doesn’t mean their curiosity will die down. they will still ask you of the scars you have, even if they may be acne scars

this is just a ‘what if’ thought i had while answering but, what if the yautjas sees acnes as mini-xenomorphs or parasites that act like chestbursters? they’re of all sizes, with the skin becoming red around the ‘head’ and must not be popped unless you have much tinier ones and have experience popping them. so it would make a bit of sense if the yautjas were to see acnes as a mini parasite that acts like chestbursters, so they will probably need to be explained that no, although some are painful to the touch, not all of them are bad and have deeper lodges in your skin

i think your yautja mate would be happy if you were to have acnes or acne scars on your face. mostly because it gives your face the bumpy texture/look and therefore, it makes you look more like them. they love it! will probably be curious about trying some herbal remedies from yautja prime if you would want it. if not, they are more than willing to place their closed mandibles on them and click in quick little precisions to ‘kiss’ you

[kikyoupdates]

Goddess Wink ⭑˚💘⭑ 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑒𝑓

bnha x f!reader

reverse harem, my hero academia x fem!reader, slowburn

Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will?

previous | story masterlist | next

You’d cleared your first battle, but it had taken pretty much everything you had. Not to mention that everyone watching probably thought you were some sort of pervert.

Shinsou was still unconscious, and Cementoss approached to pull him off the arena. He lifted the boy off the ground, handing him to one of the workers in charge of collecting the wounded. You studied his peaceful dormant expression. For the first time, you stopped to wonder what it must feel like, falling victim to your Quirk and losing your senses. You hoped it wasn’t a painful, unpleasant feeling.

“Um, I’d like to go with him,” you told the hero. “To the nurse’s office, I mean. I just want to make sure he’s okay.”

Cementoss nodded rigidly. “That’s fine, but aren’t you wanting to stick around and watch the last battle of the first round?”

“It’s alright. My classmates will catch me up on what happened.”

Truth be told, you were very interested to see how the fight between Katsuki and Uraraka would unfold, especially since it meant you’d know who your opponent for the next round was, but you felt responsible for Shinsou’s well-being at the moment. You’d never used so much of your powers on another person before.

“Okay. Just follow them.”

Shinsou was taken off the terrain, and for the second time that day, you found yourself in Recovery Girl’s office. She looked surprised to see you, and even more surprised to find out that your powers were the reason Shinsou was passed out.

“Well, you can stay here as long as you like,” she told you. “I need to go run out and grab another box of supplies, but I’ll be back soon.”

You thanked her, taking a seat by Shinsou’s beside. He didn’t look to be in pain, though you supposed there was really no way for you to tell, with him being unconscious and all. Recovery Girl performed a brief treatment on him, just to be safe, so you weren’t sure how much longer he’d be out for. The last battle was probably just getting started, but it was okay. You would wait.

Your eyes studied Shinsou’s expression as the minutes passed. His chest was rising and falling in an even, timely manner. From this close up, you realized that he was a lot more attractive than you’d initially given him credit for, what with his defined jawline and symmetric features. His violet hair was wild and seemingly untameable, but when you reached out to touch it, you found that it was fluffy and soft.

“Mmn.”

Oh!

You pulled your hand back, worried that you’d disturbed his sleep. It was surprising that he was shifting in place already, but you supposed Recovery Girl’s treatment might have sped things up a bit. A gentle sigh left his lips, and his weary eyes slowly opened.

“Hello,” you greeted timidly. “Are you feeling alright?”

“You—!”

Shinsou immediately sat up, his cheeks darkening in a matter of seconds. Even if he’d lost consciousness, you knew that victims of your Quirk still retained their memories of everything that had happened. You sort of wished that wasn’t the case. It made things a little awkward, especially in a situation like this one.

“What the hell did you do to me?” he muttered accusingly, glancing around to his surroundings. When he realized he was in the nurse’s office, he put two and two together. “So, I lost,” he grimaced. “After you pulled that messed-up stunt, I actually lost…”

You clasped your hands together, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry. I’m sure you were really surprised by what I did, but… believe it or not, that was me using my Quirk on you. My powers have to do with love, attraction, affection, that kind of stuff. The two of us, we’re actually pretty similar, since I can use my voice to command others to do certain things as well.”

“That was your Quirk?” Shinsou eyed you dubiously. “And you’re saying that we’re… similar?”

“Yeah. I knew about your Quirk beforehand, from one of my classmates, but I wasn’t sure how to use mine since I knew the second I responded to you I would lose. That’s why I resorted to, um, doing what I did…”

You could tell he was struggling to process the information, and he was still red in the face, making sure not to get too close to you. Maybe he thought you would try to kiss him again, just for the hell of it.

“Well,” Shinsou sighed, “I can’t dispute the fact that my body stopped responding to me the second you did that. You’re either telling the truth, or you’re some shameless weirdo who’s got other tricks up her sleeve.”

“Hey, I’m not a weirdo,” you protested.

“Debatable.” He stared at you for a few moments. “We met before, didn’t we? Back at U.A. You invited me to eat lunch with you or something.”

So he did remember. You smiled without realizing it, boisterously nodding you head in agreement. “[Name],” you introduced again, even though he must’ve known who you were by now. You held your hand out to him. “I’m glad I got the chance to face you, Shinsou-kun. It’s the first time I’d ever met someone with a power so similar to my own, and even though I was a little nervous, I was pretty excited too.”

Shinsou scrunched up his brows, obviously a bit hesitant, but he eventually shook your hand. “Yeah. It’s the same for me,” he admitted. “I’ve never met anyone with a power like my own. And to think you’re in the hero course, too… I guess I can’t keep making excuses for myself anymore.”

You blinked. “Pardon?”

“People were always on edge around me because of my powers. They thought it was more suited for a villain than a hero.” He cast his gaze downwards. “I guess, with a Quirk that brainwashes others, their first thought was to assume I’d be using it to get away with all kinds of questionable stuff. People are quick to judge, after all, but if our powers are as similar as you say, and you’ve gotten into the hero course… then I guess I must not have made it since I’m a weakling.”

“That’s not true. I know how U.A conducts their entrance exams, and the only reason I made it into the hero course was through special recommendation. It kind of felt like cheating at the time, but powers like ours are difficult to assess. Like you said, people are quick to judge. So, I don’t think you’re a weakling,” you smiled. “You probably just haven’t had the chance to be assessed fairly yet.”

Shinsou clenched his jaw. “I see. So then, did people never look at you funny because of your Quirk? Were they never worried that you’d use your powers on them?”

“They did, when I was younger. I lived in an orphanage until I was taken in by my guardian. But maybe it’s because of the way my Quirk works,” you frowned. “People are drawn to me, even if they don’t want to be. Rather than others being afraid of my powers, I was more worried that they never really liked me for the person that I am. I don’t like feeling like I’m controlling people’s emotions. I’m always worried that their feelings for me aren’t genuine. It’s probably a bit different than the experience you’ve had, but I guess we’re both concerned with the way people see us?”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

You smiled again. Shinsou was a good guy, just as you’d thought. You understood why he seemed so resentful of the hero course now; he’d probably thought his own powers prevented him from becoming a hero, for a long time. You were glad that your opponent had been him. Hopefully he would feel a bit more confident in himself after this.

“It’s like you said when you stopped by our class that day—everyone has the opportunity to be moved into the hero course, right? Shinsou-kun, I’m sure you’ll make it in sooner than you think.”

“But I lost,” he chuckled bitterly. “I doubt I made an impression on anyone today.”

“That’s not true! I had to resort to kissing you in front of thousands of people! I’ve never felt so cornered by someone’s powers before.”

Shinsou grumbled, his cheeks flushing once more. “Stop bringing that up… I’m still trying to recover.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are you in pain?”

“Not like that. Just… ugh. I’ve never been more mortified in my life.” He lifted the blanket and used it to veil the bottom half of his expression. You giggled, obviously still aware of the fact that you’d embarrassed him, but his mannerisms were actually really cute. You wondered if you were getting ahead of yourself in thinking that you’d made a new friend.

You titled your head to the side. You could vaguely hear the spectators’ cheers echoing through the walls. Except, they sounded less like cheers and more like… booing?

“You’ve missed the last battle,” Shinsou remarked. “You didn’t have to come sit here with me. I’m feeling fine.”

“I just wanted to make sure.” You smiled, tousling the top of his hair with your fingers. Yep. It was super fluffy. Shinsou shrunk back, looking even more flustered, and you moved to stand up. “If you say you’re alright, then that’s good. I guess I’ll head back to watch the next round then. See you around, Shinsou-kun.”

His violet eyes trailed onto your frame even as you exited the room.

“See you… [Name].”

It was now time for the most awkward part of the day. The final battle had ended, just as you’d thought, resulting in Katsuki’s victory. You were sure Uraraka had put up a good fight, and while you were eager to know exactly how it had all gone down, you first had to answer a few questions.

“Ah, [N-Name]-chan!” Izuku was the first to take note of you walking up to the stands, and his freckled cheeks all but burst into flames. He fidgeted uncomfortably, unsure of how to act as you sat down beside him. “G-Good job winning your battle,” he praised, though he was very clearly avoiding eye contact. “Um, if you don’t mind me asking, why exactly did you k-k-k—”

“Shitty [Name]!”

Ah.

You glanced to the side, where a very angry, very red-faced Katsuki was stomping towards you. He stopped before your seat and wasted no time before roughly pulling you up by the hand.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, perverted girl?!” The blonde was gritting his teeth, trying to look menacing, but it was failing on account of how obviously flustered he was.

You smiled passively. “What do you mean?”

“Stop playing dumb! You really—I can’t believe you just—” He inhaled sharply, pulling you even closer. “Who the fuck do you think you are, kissing some random guy like that?!”

“I had to,” you said, trying to pull away from him. His grip only tightened, unfortunately. “I mean, it wasn’t ideal, but my powers weren’t working on Shinsou-kun. His Quirk allows him to control others, too. I had no choice but to concentrate my powers to the max. I wanted to win.”

Katsuki was spewing curses at you outright, and while you could understand that it was probably a little embarrassing to watch, you didn’t get why he was so mad.

“[Name],” he rasped, the color on his cheeks darkening. “You little… you’re facing me next. If you even think about pulling some shit like that—”

“You don’t want me to kiss you?”

“F-F-Fuck no!” he spluttered out, but his voice had started wavering. You were a little amused. Ideally, you would like to avoid having to do something like that again, but just to see Katsuki totally lose his shit… it might be worth it.

“Okay,” you smiled. “I’ll try not to, but I make no promises.”

Katsuki flinched, swallowing hard. “J-Just get away from me already, pervert!”

But you’re the one that grabbed me…

With that, he stormed away, looking about ten times more pissed off. You let out a weary sigh and sat back down. Your classmates had all been watching you with wide eyes and somewhat leering gazes. When you caught them looking, they all glanced away in a hurry, but it was easy to note their embarrassment. Izuku probably had it the worst, sitting just beside you—he was already too quick to get flustered in the first place.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “Um, you were saying…?”

“I-It wasn’t really all that important!”

You threw your head back and let out a short burst of laughter, shoulders slumping against his own. “Relax, Izuku-kun. That wasn’t exactly something I plan on doing often. You won’t have to see it again, okay?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded hurriedly. It would probably take a little while for your class to come to terms with how your powers worked, but it was fine. They were all really nice, good people. You knew they wouldn’t judge you for shallow reasons.

They wouldn’t, right?

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💘 main masterlist ♡ oneshot masterlist

[blue2black]

Mace: So…how would you kill me?

Ghost: *stops sharpening his knife* …

Ghost: *looks at Mace* Excuse me?

Mace: I mean it, if you were going to kill me…how would you do it?

Ghost: … Mace: Would it be torture? Would it be quick? Tell me.

Ghost, thinking: *tilts his head to the side* ...

Ghost: Hm.

Ghost: I’d gut you. Like an autopsy, but you’re still alive.

Ghost: I want to see you squirm in my grasp as I cut open your torso. You're chained to the table, too weak to do anything about it, as I explore the organs that are the very cause of your life. I want you to look at me with tears streaming down your face when you feel my hands inside you, ripping, removing, making you bleed. The light leaving your shiny eyes, knowing you are dying an extraordinary, slow, painful death by yours truly.

Ghost: I will be the last face you see.

Mace, a little shocked: *whistles* You've thought about this, huh? Haha.

Ghost: Hm, maybe a little... *continues sharpening his knife*

Mace, smiling: Hm...

*silence*

Ghost: ... *puts his knife down* So, how would you kill me?

Mace: Ah, I would...

Mace: Hm...

Mace: I would get something quick and efficient. Something that would make your heart stop so fast that you wouldn't have time to panic. To see your body go stiff as death swims through your veins. Your pretty autumns fade when your body starts to fall, but even then, I will still catch you.

Ghost: Even when you're the one to kill me?

Mace: Even then. I want to feel the warmth of life leave your soul. I will be the reason The Ghost finally dies.

Ghost: *chuckles* That just sounds like something you’d do to stroke your ego.

Mace: Hey, I can want more than one thing!

Ghost: Hm. *smiling*

Mace: Hm…

Mace, smirking: You’re smiling.

Ghost, picks up his knife and starts cleaning it: No, I’m not, sod off.

Mace: …

Mace: Yours was good.

Ghost: …yeah?

Mace: Yeah.

Ghost: I'll revive you by the power of necromancy and do it again.

Mace: Oh, speaking my language, baby.

———

Made THIS POST about a week ago on my random shite account and wanted to make an example of just one of their conversations.

[sleepychenle]

wc: 1221. genre: angst, hurt/comfort. tags: non-idol au, slight mention of blood and scraped knees, running away. [a/n]: i missed writing for chenle (girl it's been only one fic). masterlist

you tried to find peace in the quiet streets at night.

never in your life you thought you’d run away from your home—from your house. because you couldn’t dare to call it home anymore.

you just needed fresh air, even though every room of your house was cold. you needed silence, but even when everyone was sleeping, you couldn’t find it.

now you’re walking through the poorly lit streets. it wasn’t of help that you didn’t bring your glasses, and that silent tears were starting to blur your sight.

…

chenle was just gazing at the sky. he had always admired its quiet beauty. his friends told him that he was crazy. you know the moon and starts won’t go anywhere, right? they never really understood.

he didn’t care about having neck pain from looking up for so long every night. they deserved it. the moon and starts deserved to be looked at, and he always thought people didn’t appreciate them enough.

…

you didn’t even know where you were going at this point. but you didn’t care… as if you could see anything at all. your feet kept moving as your thoughts kept racing.

all of a sudden, your body collides with something. you open your eyes, you couldn’t tell if you hit a tree or someone’s parked car.

before you could even figure it out, you heard someone nervously trying to get your attention. “oh god. are you okay?” you feel dizzy from the fall. the first thing you do is to look down at your knees that are now bleeding. and without even looking up to whoever you just crashed into, you break down.

“let me help you” you hear him say with a shaky voice, as he hooks his arms under yours to lift you up. you weakly stand on your feet again, still crying heavily. he guides you to a bench nearby, hissing when the back of your thighs touch the cold material. he quickly and without hesitation, takes off his jacket and signals you to stand up for a bit. he puts it under you and makes you sit on it, but that didn’t make you feel any better.

he stood still, scared. you were crying so much… did it hurt that bad? “wait here—i’ll find something to patch you up.” he jogged to the nearest drug store that, thankfully, was just across the street. he hated that he had to leave you alone, even for that brief moment.

you finally managed to look up when he left, calming yourself down and wiping your tears. you could see him going in and out of the store from time to time, to check that you were still there. you would’ve laughed at his worried expression if you weren’t feeling so bad right now.

in the blink of an eye, he was crouching in front of you, setting everything up to treat your scratched knees. “i’ll clean them up first with one of these,” he says, lifting up a packet of antiseptic wipes. “and then cover them up with this” he adds, holding up a roll of gauze. you looked at him quietly, hiccups slipping out now and then, as he softly explained every step.

until now, he hasn’t been able to look at your face for long, afraid you’ll catch him staring, even though he wasn’t doing anything bad. he just wanted to see how you were feeling without having to ask.

while he carefully wipes your scraped knees, you try to look away, hoping to trick your brain into not feeling the pain. that’s when he’s able to actually look at you, studying your expressions closely. and he finally realized you weren’t hurting much from the fall—it was something on your mind that was really weighing on you.

but of course, he didn’t dare to ask. why would you tell him, out of all people? so he decided to ask what he should have asked a long time ago. “what’s your name?” he sits next to you, wanting to look at you but also not wanting to make you feel more vulnerable than you probably already do.

“i’m y/n” you say weakly, as if the crying has worn you out. he smiles, and for a moment, you think you’ve never seen a smile so genuine. “i’m chenle.” you tilt your head, eyebrows drawn together as you try to sound it out. “chen…le?” you say in broken chinese, even though you didn’t know that’s what it was. he chuckles, finding the way you said it endearing.

you spend quite a while trying to figure it out. he’s surprised you’re actually trying to learn how to say it—as if you’ll need it sometime in the future. as if you’ll get the chance to say his name again. you try again—he nods, and the moment you realize you got it right, you smile. it’s the first time he’s seen you do that.

“can i walk you home?” he says as softly as he can, not wanting to sound like a creepy guy at all. “no… it’s okay, i’ll stay here for a while.” “please, let me. i won’t be able to sleep if i know i left you here.” “i don’t want to go hom—to my house” he now understands it all. “then i’ll stay with you until you feel like going back.” “what if i never want to?” you murmur, not looking at him, as if it was something to be ashamed of. “i don’t mind staying here forever.”

and he actually did. he stayed with you, teaching you about the moon and the stars to keep your mind off the tight feeling he could only imagine in your chest. you listened until there was nothing left to say. he never thought he’d run out of things to say about them.

you’ve both been outside for a while now, your head nodding forward every few seconds. “okay, fine. maybe it’s time to go” you mumble, rubbing your eyes. he gets to his feet and extends a hand, waiting for you to take it.

you both walk quietly toward your house. and somewhere along the way, you realize: your knees still hurt—but your heart doesn’t anymore.

“will i ever see you again?” he says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “is that what you want?” you ask, trying to appear nonchalant—but somehow, it comes out like a mix of surprise and hopefulness.

you notice how he starts to blush. “yeah… uhm—i mean, i’d like that… if that’s what you want, too” he says, nervously scratching the back of his neck. you nod with a shy smile. “that’d be nice.”

he couldn’t help but to sigh in relief when he heard you. he wondered how your voice would actually sound, without the remnants of crying your heart out. he was excited to hear you say his name again, hoping that next time, it would be a voice full of joy.

🏷️: @lyvhie @nebularsung