#like that is a huge pointer

[prismatic-ink]

insane and deranged new hermit speculation

aka, one of them is very likely to be Joel.

First, some context.

Jimmy knows who the new hermits are. he said this in one of his Chunklock streams a WHILE ago, but I kinda thought he was joking. but he reconfirmed it in his current stream, with the cheekiest grin. now why would he know that....

also, Pearl said she had an important Minecraft recording that she had to cut her stream early for at 7 am Australian time, and based on Doc tweets, this seems to be the first HC 10 recording. Currently, Jimmy, Martyn, FWhip, Sausage, HBomb, and Scott are streaming, and they might not still be streaming till then, but if they were the new hermits they probably wouldn't be streaming right now. That leaves the two most hyped potential new guys: Skizz and Joel.

another VERY interesting tidbit of information: In Tango's patreon discord server, Cleo said that if the new hermits had TCG cards, they'd be Balanced/Builder and Balanced.

Skizz first. He would probably be the Balanced type. I don't really need to get into him being friends with so many hermits, we all know it.

However, I will say, after the last Imp and Skizz episode where Skizz talked about not having enough time to do anything I do think he isn't going to be in HC 10 unfortunately. It seems like it won't be in the cards until he goes full-time content creation. Also, Doc said the new hermits didn't know him that well, and while Skizz isn't like besties with him or anything he's been in his circle long enough to know him at least a little bit.

But what about Joel?

Balanced/Builder DEFINITELY fits Joel to a T. While his content is focused on building, he's also good at PVP and is a prankster, making him balanced. He's also close with hermits blah blah blah but here's some more EVIDENCE (actually just wild speculation). Why would Jimmy know about this? Yeah, he's close with Grian, but still. Maybe because he, Grian, and Joel came back from their trip yesterday, and the recording was today because it was the earliest possible time for it to happen for all hermits to be there, and Jimmy was filled in on this. It also explains why Jimmy seems so excited about knowing the new hermits to the point he's spoken about it twice. Obviously, he would be excited for his friend.

also this is straight up copium at this point but the shadow people on the new banner are based off a Steve and Alex model. If they were both guys I feel like they wouldn't go through the effort to make them different models. maybe,,,, maybe lizzie ldshadowlady? even though she probably wouldn't be into hermitcraft? maybe?? or at least a new female hermit. because that's the biggest thing against Joel not being a new member, if Lizzie isn't there with him it would be kinda strange ngl

[qrtem]

am i crazy or is her thumb literally the size of my pointer finger

[everythingsinred]

its not faiirrrrrr.

i wanna be a bookworm girl who lights little candles when she reads and makes a little tea for herself and sits in a nice chair to be all aesthetic and everything BUT

i have one candle (gifted to me by my friend and the only candle ive ever been gifted despite how much i love candles) and it means so much to me im sad to burn it

and i hate tea. i wish i liked tea. i WANT to like tea bc its cute and pretty and healthy. but i hate tea.

my family living room is gross bc of one of our cats so i have to read on my bed. no pretty chair ;-;

so i miss out on the bookworm girl instagram aesthetic and isnt that fucking tragic??? im so sad abt it actually. i dont fit the stereotype despite wanting to so dearly

[pastelclovds]

cw: f slur (i blame @rodolfoparras)

thinking about a homophobic misogynist man who just can’t get off like how he used to before he met you. no matter how times he fists his cock, is balls deep into some random women; none of it mattered. it was never enough, he was never satisfied. but when he thinks about his last “session” with you… he’s throbbing and rock hard within seconds (aww is that pre cum on the tip?) he tries to brush it off as nothing more than a little meeting between guys, he’s not a fag and he’ll never will be. his actions speak other wise but he’s way too narcissistic and delusional to see his contradiction.

he’s in too deep in his fantasy to hear himself whining and moaning like a bitch as he fucks into the tight hole of his hand. his eyes brimmed with tears as he recalled you holding his legs against his chest as your fat cock drilled into his sore hole, your pelvis slapping lewdly against his ass. he called you every insult in the book, but you didn’t care. in fact, his bitching made you pound into him harder.

he spat on his pointer and middle finger and slid a shaky hand down to his hole. it twitched and clenched around nothing, he felt so empty. he forces his two fingers inside him to the knuckle, if there was a heaven, he just saw it. as the fantasy continued, he only got more desperate. he bucked into his fist like a mutt in heat as his fingers thrust in and out of his tight heat. his pillows are drowning in drool at this point.

you call him your pretty princess, whose pussy was made to take your dick. your digits wrapped themselves around his throat, his adam’s apple bopping under your palm. taking in as much air as he could before you took it with the thunderous pace of your hips.

he never wished for a third arm more in his life. before long, he let out a pathetic, little, tiny sigh of “daddy” as he came all over his hand and belly. he lays on his soaked sheets absolutely exhausted. his first good nut in ages. he thinks about you again, and remembers he has a huge cucumber in his fridge he was about to blend into his work out smoothie.

his cock is leaking pre instantly.

[sunsburns]

clark kent and those damn glasses (18+)

one of the most endearing things about clark is his glasses. and it’s not just the frames themselves—it’s the way he wears them.

they’re charmingly imperfect, a little too big for his face (funny since he’s already so huge), the wide frames sitting just slightly askew over his eyes. they’re always slipping down his nose when he’s focused on work, and you adore the way he absentmindedly pushes them up with his finger.

it’s such a dorky gesture, pressing his pointer finger to the bridge and nudging them back into place, sometimes scrunching his nose without even realizing it.

his glasses are rarely ever straight. they always seem just a little crooked, as if they have a mind of their own. you find it endlessly charming, especially when he’s flustered, rushing to adjust them in the middle of a conversation.

and the way his glasses fog up? it’s honestly the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. in the winter, it happens all the time, especially when he’s bundled up in one of those thick scarves his mom knitted for him. he doesn’t just wear them; he practically swaddles himself in them, wrapping them up so high they cover half his face, his chin tucked snugly inside.

and it wasn’t like he needed them, that man never really gets cold.

but when the cold air meets the warmth of his breath trapped behind the scarf, his glasses fog over completely.

and he doesn’t even notice right away.

“oh,” he’ll mumble, sheepish, pulling the scarf down just enough to blow warm air into his hands or wipe the lenses with his sleeve. and you can’t help but stare, heart melting a little more at how utterly unassuming he is.

but the best part is when they fog up because of you. when you kiss him—really kiss him—the lenses go misty, blurring the edges of his face until all you can focus on is how soft his lips feel against yours.

you tease him about it sometimes—“superman can’t even keep his glasses clean?”—but the way his ears turn red when you say it makes you kiss him again, and again, and again. and every time, he’s the same—pink-cheeked, slightly embarrassed, and completely perfect. sometimes he won’t even bother cleaning them, his hands sliding back to your waist, pulling you closer, because really, all he wants to see is you.

all he wants to feel is you.

clark kisses like the end of the world is coming. his lips are parted, hands everywhere—gripping your waist, cradling your face, sliding down your back as if trying to memorize the shape of you. his mouth slots against yours with an urgency that leaves you breathless. and when his knee nudges between your legs, he waits—waits for that gasp, that little sigh you can’t hold back—before slipping his tongue into your mouth to taste more of you, to pull you even closer.

and then there’s the glasses. sometimes, more often than not, you’re the one reaching for them, fingers brushing over his temples, trying to fix them on his face when they’ve slid down his nose. he’s too caught up in you to notice or care, but you can’t help yourself. it starts as a simple gesture—your hands reaching for his face, for his hair, for anything you can anchor yourself to. you nudge the glasses back into place, only to watch them fog up again as he groans against your mouth, his breath hot and heavy between kisses.

and sometimes, clark forgets to take them off when things get messy. one kiss turns into another, and another, until clothes are being pushed aside, his hands roaming, touching, claiming. his lips trail lower, over your jaw, your throat, your stomach, until he’s kneeling before you, arms wrapped tight around your thighs, his mouth hot and relentless against your cunt.

his glasses are still there, perched on his nose, slightly crooked but somehow still clinging on. the lenses catch the faintest glint of light, fogged over from his breath, smudged from the mess he’s making of you. his tongue drags through your folds with deliberate precision, teasing and tasting, and when his nose nudges your clit, you jolt, a whimper spilling from your lips.

“oh, baby,” you gasp, voice shaky and half-laughing when he moans at the sound of you calling him ‘baby’. the vibration travels through you, making your thighs tremble in his grip. his free hand slides up the outside of your leg, fingers splaying over your skin before grabbing a handful of your ass. he uses the grip to rock you against his mouth, his tongue dipping into you again and again, insistent and unrelenting. every movement, every touch, feels deliberate—he knows exactly what he’s doing, and he’s determined to ruin you.

his glasses slip further down his nose, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause to fix them. his focus is entirely on you, on the way you’re gasping and squirming, your hands tangling in his hair, your hips bucking against his face. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on you fill the air, and you’re half-delirious with pleasure, your body trembling as he pushes you higher and higher.

it’s only when you’re shaking, your thighs trembling around his head, that he finally pulls back. his face is flushed, his lips shiny and swollen, and those damn glasses—crooked, foggy, and smudged—still cling to his nose. he grins at you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before finally pulling the glasses off and tossing them aside.

he rolls his eyes at your sad whine once they’re gone.

you’ve always liked his glasses for some reason.

[prosypepper]

a/n: nsfw, written with chubby fem reader in mind. 18+ mdni.

to my loves in america: make sure you go and vote!!! you can still register in some states, and some of those allow u to register in person on the 5th. go vote!!

satoru’s hands are big.

he’s lanky and his limbs are too long—but the man takes utmost pride in how large his hands are, how long his fingers extend.

and he adores how easily his hands engulf the different parts of your body.

no matter how big your own hands are, his are bigger. when you press your palms together to measure the difference in size, your fingers only come up halfway to his. he loves holding your hand, or, hands.

satoru’s one hand can effortlessly hold both of yours together, his thumb and pointer finger can wrap around your wrist with no difficulty. it especially comes in handy when he pins you down to the bed and doesn’t allow you to move; his one hand holds your wrists above your head while the other grips your waist, the plush fat under your skin bulging out between his fingers.

he can use one hand to hold your legs together behind the knees and push them up while he fucks into you, every so often leaning them to the side to get a view of your embarrassed, nervous expression. usually like this, his free hand will tangle with yours, his fingers intertwined between your shaky knuckles.

when satoru has you on all fours—or more like, just your knees with your face and arms pushed into the bed—he likes to hold your waist from behind. his thumbs touch together in the middle of your back while the rest of his digits sprawl out to wrap around the small of your midsection. the more he goes on, the tighter his grip gets, consequently leaving bruises you can feel for a few hours.

he’ll wrap his hand around your pretty neck, not in a choking manner, but just to see how you melt into that small touch when he pulls you in by the throat for a kiss. and when he does try to choke you, you swear his fingers can meet around the back of your neck.

when he sleeps next to you, his hands find a natural position; one atop your tummy, his other arm laid under you and his hand on your hip.

and speaking of hips, satoru is particularly fond of the curve of your hips, he enjoys resting his hand on your hip when you walk together.

but satoru’s favorite thing to do with his hands is hold the sides of your face, and pull you in for a kiss. his index fingers rest above your ears, his middles under them, while his ring and pinky fingers curl under your jawline. his thumbs gently stroke your cheeks and he’ll smile at you, so kindly before leaning in to plant the quickest, yet most intimate kiss on your lips.

so yes, satoru’s hands are huge—but it’s arguably one of his, and your, favorite traits about him.

[maruflix]

YOU ARE SO GORGEOUS (IT MAKES ME SO MAD!) #oneshot #hoshinasoshiro #f!reader

hoshina is unfamiliar with the concept of personal space. unluckily for you, the huge crush you have on your vice captain is the least of your worries when he keeps catching you absolutely losing it. / REQ.

feat. hoshina soshiro　　⎯⎯　wc. 2.0k

contents: female reader, reader is an officer in the third division, fluff, stoic reader, reader cannot express her feelings, not-so-oblivious hoshina, kissing

When any kind of problem arises, the Third Division knows three things for sure:

Go get Captain Mina Ashiro to solve the problem for you.

If she’s busy with other important stuff, Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro will do.

Should the Vice Captain be unavailable as well, look for Platoon Leader Y/N instead.

You don’t mind being busy— you’re happy to know that your fellow soldiers look for you in times of need. The thing is, sometimes people look for you to ask you where the Vice Captain is.

... and you hate Hoshina Soshiro.

It might surprise people to know that you’re able to feel emotions as strong as hate. You’re a naturally stoic person after all.

No noise readies you, no words shake you out of yourself, no person makes your emotions fluctuate — but Hoshina Soshiro is the only exception.

When other people would get discouraged to get close to you because of your lack of emotions, Soshiro is always at ease near you, like the two of you have been friends for a long time.

The way he smiles, the way he runs a hand through his hair, the way he stands— he’s so gorgeous it makes you so mad.

Like right now; the sound of blades clashing against each other rings in your ears as you try hard not to gape at the glorious display in front of you.

Kafka, huffing and puffing with sweat all over him as he desperately tries to keep up with his opponent, while Soshiro moves around with grace, delivering blows that seem so elegant and yet is enough to make Kafka stumble around like a puppet.

You watch, unsurprised, when Kafka falls down ungracefully, butt planted on the floor. Soshiro’s mouth starts moving (probably giving him some pointers) but all you can think about is how perfect he looks as a bead of sweat trails down his neck.

“Hey, it’s your turn.” Kikoru elbows you rather hard, making you snap out of your trance. Your face falls in an immediate deadpan as you stand up, passing by a dejected Kafka.

Soshiro smiles at you, seemingly unaffected by his earlier spar. “Oh no, I’m gonna have to open my eyes for this.”

He says it loud enough for everyone to hear and your heart leaps.

The spar lasted longer than the one with Kafka, but it still ended up with you losing. Well, there’s a reason he’s the Vice Captain and you’re the Platoon Leader.

As a competitive person, you should be angry for losing— but how could you, when Soshiro pulls you up and pats you in the back?

“You’re a great fighter. I might hafta to sit down and take a break.”

The poker face you successfully maintained should’ve given you a goddamn Grammy.

Soshiro spots you in the cafetaria and immediately makes a beeline to your table.

“’scuse me, coming through!”

The surprise in your eyes is gone as quickly as it appears. The entire table greets him warmly while you continue to eat. Soshiro smiles, sitting down next to you as Kafka scrambles to get out of his way.

Reno is trying to strike up conversation, but his only focus is on you. You seem so unconcerned about everything. He likes that about you too, but he wishes you’d let down your guard with him. How could he know whether you liked him or not? — not that he’d stop trying to get your attention.

Soshiro eating the rest of his apple while he watches you slurp down the last remains of your soup. Even when you eat, you look absolutely divine.

Just then, a lock of hair falls down your face, hanging dangerously close to your food. He instinctively reaches out to brush it out of your face.

“Whoops, wouldn’t wanna get that in the soup.”

Soshiro is aware of the stares he got from his subordinates, but seeing those beautiful eyes of yours look at him makes it worth it. Shocked, he watches as your eyes flash through different emotions before finally returning to its usual calm state.

“E-excuse me.” You didn’t give him time to speak before standing up and walking away.

“Wait!”

Did he just hear a stutter?

You walk fast, but Soshiro managed to keep a comfortable distance away from you. He lets you put away the tray of food and is about to call your name when you disappear inside the toilet.

He halts, opting to wait for you, resting his back against the wall. Then he hears something weird.

“AARRGGGHH!!!”

Posture immediately straight, his body involuntarily jerks to the sound of the scream, wanting to check out if you’re okay. Because it’s the sound of your scream.

He doesn’t have to, because at that moment the door swings open and you walk out of the toilet.

Red-faced.

He’s still standing in stunned silence when you slap a hand to your mouth and run away.

If Soshiro wasn’t worried before, he’s definitely worried now.

You keep avoiding him throughout the rest of the day. When you cross paths, you would refuse to look at him in the face. You’d only give him a halfhearted salute before fleeing.

The thing that bothers him is how hot and bothered you look. Are you feeling under the weather? Soshiro knows how hardworking you are, so he’s worried that you’re forcing yourself to work even though you’re sick.

“Platoon Leader, come here for a sec.”

You begrudgingly make your way to him, still not looking at him in the eyes. Fidgeting, sweating, and looking very, very bothered.

“Platoon Leader, are you sick?”

“No, sir.”

“Excuse me.” is his only warning before he presses his palm against your forehead.

Surprisingly, your temperature is... normal?

“W-what the-” Flinching, you make a big reaction and jerk away from his hand. Still, your face is calm. “If that’s all, I’ll take my leave.”

Soshiro sighs as you speedwalk away. Temperature aside, he’s 101% sure that you’re sick. After all, why else would your face be so red?

Unless...

You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. You’re dreaming. Because there is no goddamn way Soshiro just touched your face.

You have no clue where you’re walking. You just wanted to get away from the only person who’s able to make you lose your cool. So you head outside, to the gardens. You pass by Haruichi on the way there.

“Hey, have you seen the Vice Captain around?” He calls out after you, making you want to scream in frustration.

Can people stop making you remember the existence of the drop dead gorgeous Hoshina Soshiro?!

“I don’t know! Maybe China!”

Haruichi looks very confused. You brush past him.

Full of nerves and unsure what to do, you finally sit down on a bench to catch your breath. You can still feel his fingertips on your forehead and see the worried expression in his handsome face.

He’s worried about you. You’re about to bury your head in your hands and squeal when you catch sight of the very same man walking towards you.

Like a cue, the mask is back on. You wanted to pat yourself in the back for how quickly you’re able to gather your composure. You’d rather die than embarrass yourself in front of your crush... although you just did that when you walked out to a surprised Soshiro.

He didn’t hear you scream, did he?

Did he?

You stand up as Soshiro stops next to you. He’s smiling his usual smile, but something is eerie about it. Like he knows a secret.

“Can I test something?”

You blink once. Twice. Then you nod.

“Walk with me.”

You follow him, puzzled.

Suddenly, he loops a hand around your shoulders.

Your heart misses a beat and you nearly stumble, but you catch yourself with sheer willpower. The stoic expression is getting harder to maintain, the smile on your lips itching to blossom.

“What... why?”

There are chills running down your back when you look up at Soshiro. His smile is wider now, like he absolutely knows a secret.

He absolutely knows.

You break free and run for your life.

Soshiro feels kinda guilty now. He didn’t mean to fluster you so much; he just felt so happy and flattered that he actually managed to make you blush.

That’s why he’s making his way to your quarters, hoping to apologize for teasing you too much today. Soshiro has loved you for many months now; he has no problems taking it slow until you’re ready to trust him with all your emotions.

The door is slightly ajar, so he pushes it open quietly, not wanting to alarm you. He’s about to knock on it to signal his presence when he sees the state you’re in.

Facing away from the door, your body is half slumped on the floor and half on the bed. You’re clutching a giant pillow to your face.

“AAARRRRGGGMMMM” Without warning, you scream, the sound drowned out by the pillow you’re burying your head into.

His mouth drops open but it quickly stretches into a smile.

You raise your head, revealing your blushing face, before slamming it down on the pillow again. A string of unintelligible noises follow soon after.

He clears his throat.

You pause mid grumble and the air is still. Slowly raising your head, you turn your head to the door. The two of you lock eyes.

“Vice Captain! Get out!”

Instead of getting out, Soshiro lets himself in and closes the door behind him. He chuckles at your terrified expression, finally seeing an emotion other than complete indifference.

“So you’re really not sick? Just blushin’ around me?”

You gape, looking very offended but unable to counter him.

“Oh, good. I thought my crush was unrequited.”

Your eyes widen.

“Hey, can I kiss ya?”

“Wh-what?!”

“Sorry. You just look so cute right now. Is that a no..?”

Soshiro moves closer, now kneeling down in front of you. A teasing smile is still present on his features. Gently, he strokes his thumb down the right side of your lips. Gauging your reactions.

You didn’t want to give him any, but even a great actress needs her breaks. A shy smile breaks through your cold facade, and Soshiro beams.

“Oh, this is so cute. I must kiss ya now.”

You don’t know where to look, eyes flitting everywhere but him, but you let him lean into you until you can feel his breaths against your skin.

“W-wait,” you gasp meekly. Soshiro’s other hand is around your waist now. “I’ve never kissed anyone before.”

Soshiro shivers in anticipation. ��That’s okay,” he whispers and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “just follow my lead.” And he presses his lips against yours.

It’s so cute how shy you are, so much so that you’re trembling under his touch. He’s pretty sure he heard a whimper when he tightens his hold on your waist. It takes everything in him to control himself when you tilt your head back, parting your lips a bit further for him.

You don’t know how long time has passed because your head is still in the clouds even after he pulls away. It’s embarrassing how a simple kiss leaves you a mess; your breaths ragged and cheeks flushed.

You, who’s usually so stoic, calm and composed, looking like this under him—

“I want to say that I’ll stop teasing you, but I would be lying.” Soshiro grins when you bury your face in his chest.

You’re sulking a bit now. How dare he make you look like a complete idiot. “Whatever. You won’t get another reaction out of me anyway.”

“Is that a challenge?”

After that, he tries to get your attention every time you’re in the same space as each other. He’ll tease you, praise you, sling an arm around your shoulders, hold your things out of reach, all that just to get a rise out of you.

Of course, everyone knows he’s down bad. He acts like a schoolboy trying to get attention from his crush in all the wrong ways. So now even more people ask you about Soshiro; where he is, what he’s doing, like they’re completely convinced you two are an item.

Well, you are.

But with so many people teasing you about your relationship, it’s getting hard to hide behind a calm face. You smile a lot more often, especially when he’s around. Your reputation as the division’s most calm and composed soldier quickly fades into memory. At least you got yourself a hot boyfriend...?

Oh well. You win some, you lose some.

[sunflowerwinds]

gentle touch | s.a

summary: you take care of sevika, jinx, and isha after the fight with vi and caitlyn. sevika, for the first time in a long time, breaks down when you remind of her that it’s okay to let go.

pairing: fem!reader x sevika arcane

contains: established relationship, fluff, angst, sevika needs a BREAK!, reader and sevika are lowkey parents now.

word count: 2.4K

a/n: i know i said yesterday i would post this but IT NEEDED SOME TWEAKING! i promise the next sevika oneshot will probably be smut but fluff was all that brain felt like writing <3

You had a gut feeling that Jinx’s plan would end badly. Even with Sevika’s repeated reassuring you that everything would fall into place and you two could finally have some peace in your lives, your strong intuition haunted your thoughts.

Oh, how you hated how right you were.

Jinx and Sevika burst through you and Sevika’s shared apartment with that small golden-eyed child, Isha. She was clinging onto Jinx’s leg, clearly infatuated with the deranged blue-haired girl. Your eyes lock on her fluffy head of head then those big innocent eyes of hers, noticing a little cut on her cheek. She whimpered as she followed Jinx into the apartment space, the elder of the two grumbling nonsense to herself.

Sevika's exposed skin was littered with scrapes and bruises, her chest rising and falling slowly. Your eyes shot to her exhausted figure, worry settling in your bones. You had almost forgotten about Jinx until you saw it out of the corner of your eye; her entire middle finger was gone.

Straight to the bone.

The empty space between her pointer and ring finger nearly made you gag out of discomfort. The overwhelming distress of needing to take care of the three had you lightheaded but you pushed through.

“Jesus,” was the first thing you said, walking up to Sevika’s towering figure to wrap your arms around her neck.

Your girlfriend tenses for a moment at the tackle of a hug she was receiving but recovered quickly. Her claw arm stayed by her side as her other found its home at your waist, pulling you in with a long sigh.

“What happened?” You mutter against her neck before pulling away to cradle her blue scarred cheek.

“The kid got in the way is what happened,” Jinx spoke up before Sevika could say anything as she trudged over to sink and twisted the tap, running her open wound under it with a wince.

Your eyes lock with Isha who is now staring at you and Sevika. You muster a weak smile for the child, turning back to your injured girlfriend.

Her eyes seemed… distant.

“Hey, Sev, baby?” Your voice is low, trying to get her attention.

The familiar gray of her eyes focuses on your own, blinking before shaking her head.

“We’re fine,” she dismisses.

Jinx scoffed from the sink. “And what do you call losing a finger? Just dandy, huh?”

Sevika had clear frustration written all over her features at the sound of Jinx’s voice, releasing your waist to trudge over to the couch. You watch her carefully as she reaches for the green bottle of liquor she often brought from the Last Drop and takes a huge swig of it.

You knew how defeated she must feel. Hit after hit; mission after mission. She was worn down and she attempted to hide it from you constantly. Her heavy eyes and dark circles underneath were a given to her clear exhaustion. She would get slightly irritable but kept it under control around you as you weren’t afraid of her as most were.

You were afraid for her.

“Sev, can you sit down? You’re bleeding.” You point to the cushions, brushing a few of your flyaways out of your face. “Don’t huff at me either. I’m not letting you rest until you get cleaned up.”

Without another huff or grunt, she does as she’s told. You hurry to your bathroom, rummaging underneath the sink in there to grab the necessities for the three girls. As you stood up on your bare feet and glanced at the doorway, there stood Isha with wide and curious eyes.

Your heart couldn’t help but soften at the sight of her little hat tipping as she was trying to watch what you were doing.

“You got a little hurt too, huh?” You question.

Isha simply stares at you, looking at the medical supplies in your hands. She was probably unaware of the droplets of blood on her skin.

“C’mon. Gotta get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” you jerk your chin back to the room where the other two were.

The child follows as you walk past her, her small boots hitting the wooden floors. Jinx was leaning against the countertop, simply staring at the missing digit. Isha immediately stumbles over to the equally exhausted Jinx, resting her head on her upper thigh and shutting her eyes in relief. You noticed Jinx’s pale back rise in tension for a split second before relaxing when realizing it was just the adorable child.

Her innocence was admirable yet worrisome.

You walk over to your girlfriend as you set the supplies down in front of you, sighing at her injuries.

“Sev, talk to me,” you frown at her zoned-out look.

“I should’ve left her here with you,” Sevika lets out an irritated sigh, rubbing at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and middle finger.

“Isha?” You question as you pour a bit of alcohol on a rag.

“Who else? She ran in the middle of everything. Got right there in between Vi and Jinx. If I wasn’t distracted with that little enforcer of Vi’s, I would’ve been able to keep an eye on the kid.”

As Sevika explained the situation to you, you carefully cleaned the scrapes of her arm and abdomen. The muscles underneath your palms flexed at the feeling of the alcohol seeping into the injuries. Your eyes followed down her toned arm, landing on the teeth imprints on the space between her pointer finger and thumb.

“Did that enforcer bite you?” Your brows furrow as you take her large hand into your smaller one in disbelief.

Sevika nods to confirm, noticing your tense expression.

“It doesn’t hurt if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You give a pointed look before shaking your head as you continue to wipe up the dried-up blood. She sucked in a sharp breath when you placed a hand on her upper chest, now inviting yourself onto her lap. Your thighs press against hers as you now tend to her face. Any other day you would’ve jumped her bones but everything in you just wanted to make sure she was okay.

Her hard eyes slowly soften as you lean in close to wipe the blood off of her sculpted face. She watched your every move, holding back the urge to litter your face in kisses. Staring at the curves of your lips to the little marks on the natural beauty of your face.

And she almost acts on that very urge until Isha takes her attention off of you tending to her as she hops up onto the couch. She holds back the grumble itching in her throat as you shift your attention to the child.

You grin sweetly at Isha’s awaiting expression. “Alright, Goldie. Come here. Let’s clean your face up.”

Her own small smile breaks onto her face as she scoots in closer to you, her much smaller knee bumping into Sevika’s. You lift your rag and dab it over the dried blood, watching it disappear from her freckled skin. Once you are focused on Isha’s minuscule scrape, Sevika’s palm reaches up to hold your exposed waist from leaning over on Sevika’s lap.

You ignore it for your own sake, sucking in a deep breath as you sit back up on her large lap. Cupping her adorable face and rubbing a thumb over the little cut before tracing the outline of her round face.

“See? Good as new.”

Isha holds onto her hat as she releases a soft giggle underneath her breath. Her big eyes glance at Sevika who furrows her brows in confusion at the child’s stare.

In the blink of an eye, Isha’s small arms throw themselves around Sevika’s neck and squeezes herself in between you and Sevika’s torso. You usually would scold anyone about having their dirty shoes on the furniture but watching Sevika’s panicked expression at Isha's affection was more important in that moment.

“Seems like she has a new favorite, Jinx,” you tease the blue-haired girl.

There was silence. You look up to see Jinx slumped against the countertop, face smushed into the surface as soft noises of slumber leave her mouth.

“Alright, kid.” Sevika patted her back as a signal for Isha to release her.

She refused; in fact, she even snuggled her small face into the crook of Sevika’s neck. Your girlfriend looked to you for help but you simply smiled, standing up from her lap. You lean forward to kiss her cheek before pointing to Jinx’s clearly worn-out figure.

“I’m going to wrap Jinx’s hand and I’ll take her to our room so she can sleep.”

Sevika opened her mouth for a moment but kept still on the couch as Isha kept herself seated on her torso and small arms clinging onto her neck. You try to hurry and take Jinx’s slim hand, wincing at the sight of the open wound but carefully wrap it before her reflexes kick in.

You didn’t want to lose a finger yourself.

“I’ll take her to bed,” Sevika’s gruff voice comes from behind you.

You jump at the sound, wondering how you didn’t even hear her get up from the couch. You turn to face her and hold back your smile at the sight of Isha still clinging onto her, her new mechanic claw arm holding her up.

“Are you sure?” You question, taping the wrap down.

Sevika nodded curtly and leaned down slightly to give you a gentle kiss onto your lips. You chase after her lips as you realize how much you have missed that feeling of her lips on your own. Her eyes couldn’t keep off of your own as she easily lifted Jinx’s figure and threw her over her shoulder.

You two share a look as you glance at Isha’s now asleep figure. Sevika carefully hands her tiny body over to you, making sure she is still sound asleep. You and Sevika make your way to the bedroom, your hand cradling Isha’s head and watching Jinx’s limp figure over your girlfriend’s shoulder.

As much as you enjoyed seeing Sevika be so attentive to the scrappy girl who she claimed she wasn’t fond of, you were worried about what was flooding through her brain. Once Sevika sets Jinx down on the mattress, you walk around her to set Isha down right next to her. Sevika stands right next to the bed, examining the two sleeping soundly.

“You can lay down too, Sev,” you hum, reaching for her forearm.

Sevika was silent before turning her head to look at your gentle touch on her scathed arm. You watch her brows furrow as she turns to your body, her broad shoulders relaxing. She lets you grab her hand to lead around to the other side of your bed. She steadily sits down, grunting at an ache that shoots up her spine.

You follow her movements and find your place snuggled next to her warm body. Her head turned to you and fell forward to place her forehead on your chest, her arms wrapping around your torso.

“I just… need you here for a bit,” Sevika admits as she inhales your scent that she missed so dearly.

You frown at the near whine in her voice as her grip on you tightens as if you were going to leave if she did. Sevika was rarely as vulnerable as she was at this moment with you. After Silco’s death, Sevika had to take over everything — not like she wasn’t doing most of his dirty work for him when he was alive. She didn’t have a her and it was draining the life out of her slowly.

“I’m not leaving, baby. I promise,” you tell her with consideration of her sensitive state.

“I said I would get us out of this.” Sevika begins and you shake your head, shutting down whatever bullshit was going to come out of her mouth.

“I want to be in this if it's with you, okay? Sev, I can see how tired you are, my love. You won’t let yourself rest and I can’t stand to see you slowly wearing yourself down like this.”

You lift your hand to take the elastic that was holding up half of her hair out, running your fingers through the strands on her tender scalp. Sevika lets out a shaky breath, clinging onto you tighter.

“I don’t want you worrying about me,” she huffs, voice wavering. “I can handle it.”

You sigh as you cradle the back of her head, sucking in a deep breath as your eyes fill to the brim with hot tears.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to handle it alone. You already do everything on your own, baby.”

Sevika’s breathing was growing heavier and stronger, giving away how rapidly her emotions were taking over. The second Sevika lifted her head up to look into your eyes, you saw a single tear leave the corner of hers.

The clear pain on her face triggered your own tears that were building up in your eyelids to fall slowly. You shakily cupped the side of her face, watching her eyes shut at the feeling.

“I’m so tired,” she sighed, leaning into your touch.

You nod as you swipe away the streak, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“I know, Sev. I know,” you whisper. “You can sleep, baby.”

Sevika huffs out a slow breath, trying to regain control of her intense exhaustion taking over. Her beautiful gray eyes flutter shut, allowing herself to lean into you. You welcome her with nothing but love. You attempt to regulate your tears as you place a kiss onto her forehead.

“I love you,” you whisper onto the skin.

Sevika's arms relax around your waist, adjusting it so that Jinx’s creation wouldn’t be poking into your lower back. You knew the phrase was overwhelming for Sevika so you agreed to say it when you deemed it was absolutely necessary.

In the crook of your neck, she mutters: “I love you.”

You couldn’t help the next few tears falling from your face at her breaking voice.

She felt safe enough with you. Vulnerability was a struggle with Sevika but when she was able to release the worries of seeming weak, timid, a failure; you were so immensely proud of her.

You glance over at the two other girls who were sound asleep in the bed. Isha’s small hand held onto one of Jinx’s long braids and Jinx’s mouth was slightly ajar as her limbs were curled up into her body.

The steady beat of you and Sevika’s hearts matching with one another’s helps the two of you fall into a deep sleep.

TAGLIST: @breezy-sapphic @fict1onallyobsessed @fandomnana @cewl-casper @lovinglynny @archangeldyke-all

[invincibledc]

⋆˙⟡INVINCIBLE/MARK GRAYSON X PANTY ANARCHY!READER⋆˙⟡

summary: new addition to the teen team is a sex addict and a bitch. But oh, but they aren’t much of a bitch to of course mark grayson

genre: whatever this shit is cause idgaf I love panty AND THE NEW SEASON IS COMINGGGGG!!

info: slight(?) yandere mark, idk… I like munch!mark so much. POV switch accidentally at the end but I’m too tired to fix it so whatever. Also sorry if it’s ass, like I said i was tired and too tired to try and explain the dynamics. this is gender neutral for the ftm/male reader who loved panty and stocking. That’s why there’s a male reader and female reader tags, cause this is a character!reader so reader just has the personality and abilities of panty anarchy.

word count: 2,015

"Motherfucker needs to motherfucking chillax before she has a motherfucking stroke!" was the first sentence that came out your mouth seeing monstergirl fuck up Rex when invincible aka Mark Grayson punched her into her senses. You wore a classic bougie red outfit with shades on your head, and golden bracelets around your wrists as you leaned against the broken glass.

You were sure the person made a huge impression on the others when you got accepted onto this hero team. You and Rex weren't on a good start when you out-sassed him.

“You’re such a whore.” Rex says to you, narrowing his eyes while leaning his face towards you. You covered your nose, leaning back before sticking your tongue out.

“Says the manwhore who HAD a hot ass girlfriend before fucking multiple clones of ONE girl!” you stepped back fully as Mark was ready to get in between you and Rex, already seeing the tension getting thicker.

“I mean, monster girl was right when she said you have a small dick, Captain Peter wacker.” as you said this, you indicated him having a small dick by using your pointer finger and thumb, almost squeezing each other—but leaving space for in-between them to show how “small” he is.

“Oh, you bitch!”

“Rex, if you're gonna act like a baby, you might as well crawl back up your giant vagina where you belong.”

Before Rex could try and pounce on you, Mark got in between you and him, Rex was trying to get over the half viltrumite and human male. You just smirked and gave him double middle fingers and stuck out your tongue. “Suck it!”

“Y/n, stop!” Mark says, oddly—you obeyed, rolling your eyes and walking off.

“Whatever..”

✞

Every time you tried to have fun, Mark the fun police was always there, watching your every move. It was getting annoying so bad!

You were at the club, flirting with some guy, moving your body close to the buff man. Dragging a finger against his chest before suddenly Mark is there, pulling you from the club as you couldn't see a dark expression on his face.

“Hey! Dickhead! Are you following me or something?!” you scowled at the dark-haired male who seemed to almost try and intimidate you with his height.

“If you call watching out for you stalking, then yes!” he yells at you, but then he groans in annoyance. He doesn't even know why he cares for you, why he is getting so protective of you. What's the point of even trying to be like some overprotective boyfriend when you’re so independent?

You looked weirded out as he seemed to have an internal conflict going on. “Jeez.. Listen, man, if you want to sleep with me you could—” Mark interrupts you, grabbing your shoulders with a firm grip, not too firm to try and break anything. But still, you looked more confused at him.

“I don't want to sleep with you. I want to know the real you, you. You can't just be some sex-addicted person all your life! This... This can't be you!” he says, trying to get his words through you before you narrow your eyes.

“Ouu who are you? I don't need some asshole tryna tell me how the fuck I should live my life! This is my life, if you don't like it, then suck it up buttercup!” you pushed him back. It happened so quickly that you you both arguing, Mark trying to talk you out of whatever you were doing, not caring if he seemed crazy. Crazy for you whilst you trying to ignore the aching feeling.

“Can you shut the fuck up!” you yelled, fully losing your cool as Mark stopped, freezing as he stared at you.

Glossy eyes stared into shocked ones, you've never lost your cool before like this when you fell from heaven.

Mark couldn't help, but notice how astonishing you looked. The moon hitting your face right. You realized that you blew up, you exploded. You immediately turned from the male, wiping your eyes as you sighed.

“Listen, I'm doing this 'cause it is me. You can't just change me, Mark. This is already me.”

After that, you practically sprouted your angels wings and flew off quickly. Leaving Mark to sadly look into the sky, hitting himself mentally as he should have just not acted so impulsive. But he couldn't help it… he just couldn't.

✞

After the whole “altercation”, you and Mark have been kinda in a rocky relationship. But when you hold a grudge, you hold one. It's been so long since you noticed Mark. Not knowing that he now has fully changed after his father left. But Mark always noticed you. Always noticed how you seemed more closed off between you and him.

Mark would subtly be a lap dog for you, bringing you stuff like; red nail polish, and cool snacks he found across the world you mentioned you wanted to try months ago. He was being such a sucker, and you lived for this.

Finally, you had enough.

Knocking on his door, Debbie opened the door to see a flashy young adult who seemed to reek of a careless person.

“Is Mark here?” you ask, as much of a crazy bastard you are, you can't just burst into his place. So here you are now, in his comic geek abode.

“I wanna say, I'm sorry,” you said simply, knitted brows as Mark looked surprised. “I acted like a major bitch when you were trying to look after me. But listen here,” your voice lowered as your eyes narrowed.

“Next time I find out you are stalking me,” you balled up your fist, making a clean popping sound. “I'm ripping your balls off and making you swallow them.” and with that, you gave him a wink and left his place. Leaving him shocked as he clearly cannot believe that you apologized to him, threatened him, or found out where he lived.

But either way, the relationship was restored between you two. Strangely enough.

✞

Things have been smooth, and you both started to hang out more. Mark still acts oddly possessive if other guys are too close to you. He hates hearing how you fucked some guy during the morning or night. He had to ignore the feeling to show you true love within lust, but you were just too stubborn and uncaring to care. Although, you both are quite the duo! You and Eve are best pals due to some circumstances, she’s still a badass like you said before.

✞

Rolling your eyes, you took off your underwear from your angel clothing, not caring how the others were now focused on you. Shocked at how you are practically stripping.

“Angel! What are you doing?!” Mark yells, speeding over you as your underwear turns into a gun. Placing a hand on the half-alien boy’s chest—you pushed him back surprisingly harshly.

“I'm doin' my shit you dipstick. This isn't some ordinary monster, it's a goddamn ghost demon,” with a crazed smirk you rushed toward the shitty-looking monster. Rex gripped his head, even at first stayed in place before flying after you with Mark who still was oddly protective of you.

“Y/n! You’re crazy!” “Bitch, I'm always crazy!” you said loudly, jumping onto Eve’s and Mark's back, having your feet onto each of their backs before jumping into the air with a flip. Aiming the gun flawlessly at the ghost’s head you started to chant.

"O pitiful shadow lost in the darkness, O evil spirit born of those drifting between Heaven and Earth. May the thunderous power from the garments of these holy delicate maidens strike down upon you with great vengeance and furious anger, shattering your loathsome impurity and returning you from whence you came! REPENT, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!"

You pulled your finger onto the trigger as your halo glowed bright, the blue bullet phases through the ghost demon, showing a blasted huge hole before it was blown up into pieces.

Smirking, not caring how you were falling, you were suddenly caught by Mark who was gonna get heart problems because of this fallen angel.

Smirking with a smug look, you tapped his cheek. “Now you see what I have to deal with on my own time.” Mark gave you a stare that couldn't hold all the emotions he felt as of now, feeling you tap his cheek as you jumped out his arms.

You’re crazy… but oddly… attractive.

✞

"Well after we eat, let’s go hit the club and have ourselves a little fuckfest! Fuck that guy! Fuck this guy! Fuck those guys! We'll find everything that has a dick and FUCK IT! I'M TOTALLY FUCKING STOKED!" You said, kicking your feet that were covered with your red high-top sneakers. You and Mark needed to celebrate after a successful mission, it made you gleeful. Mark was slightly embarrassed with how loud you were—people started to stare.

Mark pulled you out of the establishment, whispering severely into your ear. “Calm down! Y-you can't just yell something like that to the whole world!” he says, face flushed as you push his face from your ear.

“Jeez, alright alright.” you started to pick at your ear with a noncaring expression. “I’ll be more 'civil',” you said with an air quote gesture with your one free hand. You pulled your finger out of your ear, looking at the finger and wiping it on Mark’s shirt.

“I'm bored. Let's go fuck some shit to fuck up.” You walked ahead of the male, having your arms behind your head as mark strutted close behind. Having a feeling he is practically your lap dog, which wasn’t wrong—but still it was clearly established without words.

✞

When the invincible war happened, y/n didn't think this was gonna be easy, hell! Multiple versions of the hot comic geek, jeez, if they weren't so evil. Y/n would've slept with all of them to achieve the goal of 1,000 guys!

But of course, they just had to face one of them.

The [blank] one.

The variant threw y/n across multiple buildings, and y/n got up momentary despite the burning feeling in their legs and body. “You can’t keep running from me angel face. You’ll die anyways, just like how I killed you!” He yelled when destroying a pillar y/n hide behind.

You barrel rolled from the punch, scoffing as you shot at him, he dodged quickly from the bullets. “You’re being such a little bitch.” the variant then says, zooming onto, gripping their throat as the angel then starts to punch his face.

Wincing a bit at the feeling of punching this variant, glaring at how this one seemed to smile like a smug bastard.

"You're right, I'm just a little bitch and I'm proud of it. But guess what, douchebag? That's not the point. News flash, I don't need special fucking powers to beat the shit out of you. You know why? Because I'm a bitch who doesn't give a fuck. You and your shit face can preach about death and me and other weird words that supposedly mean shit, but that doesn't change the fact that if any of you fuckers get in my way, I'm gonna kick some twisted-ass ass. You hear me dick? I'm a hot bitch angel named Y/N. And no matter what anyone says, I DO WHAT I FUCKING WANT!" Y/n before blasting a hole into Mark’s chest. Ending one of the variant's life, they felt tired as their whole body was littered with bruises, blood, and scratches. Clucthcing their gun, they fell to the ground, ignoring how their halo was slightly fading before Mainstream Mark immediately flew over.

Mark felt his heart drop, their small wings fluttering slowly, their halo looking titled. Mark flew to where the angel could get some help. He never thought he could have fallen in love with a foul-mouthed angel.

And here he is now, it's over, the battle of his life is over as he stared at the enchanting fallen angel beside him. He wrapped his arms around your nude body, figuring quickly you liked to sleep bare. He had no issues of course, but damn.

You were insane for being who you are.

[4rafe]

rafe cameron

setting down the perfect shade of a baby pink louis vuitton backpack onto rafes messy bed. he had got you a full set of louis vuitton luggage for your birthday just a couple of weeks ago, personalized it with such a beautiful pink and your name embroidered on.

opening your bag, mindlessly going through the couple of pairs of brandy melville pajama sets you packed with you and choosing which one you wanted to wear more. choosing between one and the other was so complicated but when all else fails, you can always rely on the opinion from a man with the name, rafe cameron!

you picked up both sets, making sure the cute design showed perfectly with a huge giggly smile on your face. the sounds of your feet hitting the wood floor as you were walking up to him to ask the big question, "rafey, which one" you smiled big, only your eyes peeking over the pj sets as you held them up for his decision. even though you gave him two options, there was one you 'picked out' in specific. insisting he answer 'correctly' with the tone in your voice.

he turned around to look at you when you called his name following with a question. his eyebrows furrowed from the petty little design that covered the sets of your clothing. raising his pointer finger to choose which set even as the words came out of his mouth, "that one, bunny." he answered as his phone dinged and he pulled it out of his pocket to answer.

you squealed to yourself with a big happy smile on your face, you were ecstatic that he choose the one you wanted him to even though you knew either one would have been just.. fine. you thought to yourself about your silliness to ask whenever you knew what you wanted to wear but it was much better having rafey pick for you.

when he choose, you stood up on your tippy toes as far as you could to reach rafes cheek as he held his phone up to his ear on the other side, giving him a sloppy kiss for his decision before having to come back down as you couldn't stand on them for very long. being in a talking stage with a man who stood at 6'1" came with its many different challenges, romantic ones included but, in all ends, you really liked it.

making your way back to rafes bed where your backpack still laid you heard him mumble something to you. hearing his mumbles made you turn back around, looking at him, "hm?" you questioned. notifying to rafe that you don't know what he had asked of you the first time but now he had your attention.

rafe brought his hand up to chin, rubbing slowly as if he was in a trance of thought, "why do you bring that backpack with you every time you stay, princess?" he had asked of you. you turned around to face him, placing the backpack onto the ground after all decisions were made. "its my spend-the-night bag!" you smiled big at him and giggled in response.

"what the hell is a spend-the-night bag, that's fuckin stupid." he said to you and your smile dropped instantly which was so weird because you knew how rafe was, mean. but he never really meant it "mean" towards you it still doesn't mean it didn't hurt.

he saw as your smile dropped, knowing his words hurt you tremendously. he waved his hand at you, telling you to come to him. he took a seat on the bench that was placed in his room, as you walked towards him. as you stood in front of him, he wrapped his fingers around your thigh, pulling you forward as he guided your legs around his. as you sat down on his lap you let down your head, feeling embarrassed that he saw his words effect you so much. he brought his hand up to your chin, feeling his cold golden rings on your skin, lifting it up so you were looking at his eyes and he started to explain to you,

"bunny.. all im saying is, everyone in this shitty town knows you're mine. there's no need to keep bringing your stuff back and forth. just move all your stuff in with me." hearing his sweet words made a big smile appear on your face again which made rafey smile as well. he made you so happy, it was silly, you were head over heels for him and you wanted everyone to know it.

later that week, you were all moved in. so so in love.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

78 / 1.7k / part 2 of remora!reader surviving orca!König's tank for mermay 🦈

...

“Alex? Alex!” Your hands press up against the glass. But Alex—the diver you trusted, the one who you thought was your friend, turns away from you. "Please..."

König watches the commotion from a distance. His hand—palm wide enough to fully engulf a human's skull—flexes in annoyance. Your desperate wailing disrupts the fragile hierarchy of the tank. He tolerates it for exactly fourteen seconds before surging forward with a speed like he isn’t the biggest thing in the tank.

His shadow swallows your smaller form against the glass. The next thing you know, he's snatched your thrashing wrists above your head with one hand and pressed you against the tank's barrier with the other.

"Quiet."

The barked command makes the glass behind your head ring. Net-like fabric floats around his head as he stares you down with eerie stillness. His tail coils beneath you and his body is taut—ready to shake sense into you the old-fashioned way if you wiggle.

Remoras are clingy by nature, feeding off scraps from proper predators. Weakness incarnate. Yet something in your wide-eyed stare pricks at recollections of his own helplessness years ago. He dismisses this immediately.

"Improve your posture before Horangi circles back," he mutters, jerking your wrists higher. "He chews on twitchy things. Understand?"

You stare at him, utterly still. You can't quite make out what he's saying over the roar of blood in your ears. Still, you're careful to keep your tail from brushing his as you hang limply from his grip. You shouldn’t touch an angry orca without begging permission.

König’s pointer finger hooks under your jaw to force your chin up. "Begging makes you smaller." The last word comes out punctuated by a mean poke of his pinky finger’s claw against your neck. "Do you hear me? If you value your pretty throat, stop bleating like seal bait."

You blink up at him, pupils still huge. You swallow and try to choose your next words carefully. What comes out, however, is, "You think it's pretty?"

A beat passes—long enough for Horangi’s silhouette to glide past the tank's far not-coral formation.

König’s exhale bubbles out in a low, irritated tsch that flutters the netting in front of his lips. He pushes your jaw to the side to make you break eye contact. He has half a mind to make you expose your neck, too. Your tiny remora brain must not have parsed his words correctly. "I meant the tendons. Weak spots. Delicate." He makes his voice arrogant and attached. "In that sense, yes."

"Oh." Tendons. You have pretty tendons, then. Your fingertips—still hostage above your head—tap unthinkingly against the side of his fingers. You tilt your neck, opening it to him even more, despite his claws floating around it. "Do you like weak spots? I have a lot."

König’s head tilts. His grip on your jaw shifts—pressing your head back until your entire throat bows taut under his claws. One casual flick, and he could open it up like the human divers unzip their suits. His inky tail presses in to hem you in from below. Not that you're trying to escape.

"You mistake patience for interest," he growls, though his thumb makes another lazy pass over your throbbing pulse. "The question is whether your many weak spots make you worth the effort of keeping alive."

"It wouldn't be. Except..." You let your eyes wander down his body. Then you look away. "Well... No, it's nothing."

"Spit it out."

You wriggle in his grip again and shoot him a coquettish look. "For a mer as big and strong as you, it would be easy to keep me alive. I bet no one ever picks a fight with an orca."

A chuckle rumbles up from his chest. You think you've got him right where you want him until the sound becomes a growl that reverberates through your skull where he's still pinning it to the glass.

"Cringing flattery." He releases your wrists just to splay his hand over your ribcage. The span of his palm covers your torso. "But that's right, foolish schmarotzer. Every fight ever picked with me ends with the problem sinking to the seabed in pieces. Fighting is easy. Easy is tiresome."

He pulls you away from the tank wall and pushes you suddenly downward. After a long descent, your back hits the shallowly-sanded tank floor hard enough to dredge up a bloom of silt. You let out an uncomfortable uff. His palm splays wide against your sternum—not crushing, but containing. Two clawtips press divots into the skin above your heart. "I tire of flattery. Your lines are stink up my tank. Mold your clever mouth around something else."

"What else is there?"

König's answering exhale is a stream of bubbles that pop fizz against your face. The claws at your sternum drag downward, ginger enough to etch thin white lines that bloom pink. “Your tongue is as dull as your teeth. Better to use it for scraping barnacles off my scales. Or" —his thumb presses hard into the hollow under your chin— “begging. But you are much worse at that.” The pressure relents only for his claws to flex around your throat.

A shark’s silhouette passes overhead—Horangi’s lithe form pausing to observe the disturbance before gliding onward. König’s gaze flicks up, tracking him.

You watch him watch Horangi. Begging—for what? Food? Shelter? No, it's not that, you realize, seeing Horangi's brief smirk and feeling König's grip tighten in response. He wants your fear; your unquestioning respect. He wants you something easy under his thumb to beg for his mercy.

Your reaction is instinctive and immediate. You try not to seem as eager to please as you actually are, but you can't help the way your pupils dilate at having found a niche. "Please," you mewl. You clutch his wrist—the one connected to the hand still wrapped around your throat and chest—with eager hands. "Please release me. Throw me to the shark instead; he’ll be kinder." You make sure to say this loudly enough to reach Horangi's ears.

König’s head snaps back toward you, hood whipping through the water. The whites of his eyes flash briefly before narrowing to glacial slits. When Horangi draws closer, nostrils flaring at the metallic tang of adrenaline, König lashes out at him a territorial swipe of his claws. Horangi darts back, but his interest is clearly piqued.

König hauls you upright by the throat and shoulders. “Dummes biest,” he hisses. “You think you can gift yourself to the sharks? Your life is mine. I decide when you become chum.”

To emphasize this, he drags you toward the coral outcropping where Horangi has settled to watch as he sharpens a stolen diver’s knife against a rock. Horangi’s grin widens.

König stops just shy of Horangi’s reach. He thrusts you forward like a fisherman presenting live bait.

“Here.” His voice drops to a taunting purr. “Beg him for death, if you’re so eager.”

You stare at Horangi. You open your mouth but can’t form the words.

Horangi’s golden eyes gleam. He leans in. “Oh? Brave little scavenger—”

König yanks you back against his chest before the shark’s claw can graze your cheek. A low, resonant click rolls through his chest—an orca’s warning—as Horangi retreats with a scoff. “Not brave. Stupid.” He forces your head to crane up at him. “But stupidity is fixable. You want to be shark food? Earn it. Kneel first. Then maybe I’ll let Horangi take a finger. A fin.” His thumb traces your lower lip. “Your impudent tongue.”

You positively squirm as he holds you there and takes inventory of your weak points. You've never been objectified quite like this before. It's thrilling.

You’re rewarded with a sharp jerk of his claws. He bends you, forcing your spine to arch against the solid plane of his chest. You're meant to pick scraps from his kills, but here you writhe as if starved for a different purpose. "You vibrate like a shrimp in a net," he mutters. His big hands drag your smaller frame flush against the lethal curve of his pectoral fins. The scarred edges bite faintly into your hips. He could sand your scaled skin to pulp with a single thrash.

Horangi keeps watching. He scrapes the knife’s blade idly over the pad of his thumb. Then König notices you noticing Horangi noticing you. “Eyes forward,” he snaps at the tiger shark with a low, clicking sound in his chest. “This one is not your chew toy.”

“Fine, fine,” Horangi replies. He stretches and retreats with a curious flick of his tail.

König’s attention returns to you. You’re still not trying to escape. You must enjoy being manhandled. Stupid little putzerfisch. “You lick the hand that throttles you. Pathetic. But…” He drags a clawtip up your neck to tap your bottom lip. “Convenient.”

You resist the urge to catch it in your mouth and suck on it. "Convenient is good?"

"Convenient is tolerable." His finger pushes past your teeth before you can react, the blunt tip pressing down on your tongue. Saliva clouds the water as he drags the claw along the sensitive muscle. "Good would imply you have use beyond this."

You nod obediently. Or you try, but the weight of König's finger makes it difficult. "’M utheleth," you agree around his claw.

He pulls it out with a wet pop. "Useless and honest. A rare combination."

He releases you abruptly, sending you drifting backward in the current. Before you can right yourself, his palm slams against the sand beside your head, caging you beneath the shadow of his dorsal fin. The black-and-white patterning of his tail seems to warp in the murky water.

"You will make yourself less useless starting tomorrow." His claws pluck a stray seashell from the sand and flick it disdainfully toward the tank's filtration system. "Clean this cesspit. Remove debris. Scrape algae from the glass. If I see a single parasite on Nikto’s scales, I will peel yours off and feed them to you." His gaze follows Horangi, who’s now circling the tank’s upper levels with roiling boredom. "And when the sharks demand entertainment," he adds, leaning down until his mask brushes your temple, "you will not volunteer your tongue. It belongs to me."

With that, he shoves off the sand and surges upward, his tailfin disappearing in a cloud of silt.

...

part 1 / [part 2] / part 3

more mer au / more KorTac / masterlist

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSURPRISE PARTY TOUR: PERIOD CRAMPS * MATT STURNIOLO * BLURB

SUMMARY　::　Where Y/N is on her period during the Philadelphia show, but don't want to let her cramps pain take her off of the show, until Matt intervenes.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　Period cramps.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The theater was empty as it awaited the company of thousands of fans.

The huge red velvet curtains were still closed, hiding the stage that would, in just a few hours, be lit up with thousands of lights and the screaming of fans. The empty rows of seats stretched out in front of Y/N as she was curled up right in the middle of it - bottom row, hoodie on, a soft woven blanket pulled up to her chin like a shield.

Her fists clutched the edges of the blanket, knuckles pale. Not because it was cold, but because of the stupid period cramps that had been trying to knock her out since yesterday. Her lower stomach felt like it was being twisted, her body hot one second and shivery the next.

Still, she was there. Watching him.

Matt stood up on stage with Chris and Nick, all three of them moving around like excited kids, playing with the mics, cracking stupid jokes, and messing with the sound crew.

Y/N barely registered Chris doing some cringey announcer voice or Nick yelling at him to stop. Her eyes were locked on Matt.

Matt looked so good it physically hurt. Grey sweatpants hung loosely on his hips, the fabric soft and a little wrinkled from sleep. A white t-shirt barely clung to his frame, his hair all messy, curls a bit matted from the couch nap he’d taken in the green room, and his face puffy in that post-nap way that made him look like the softest thing alive.

And then, his eyes found hers.

From all the way on stage, Matt’s gaze settled right on her. And the second he locked in, that smile - the boyish, sleepy, slightly crooked one that always made her knees weak - stretched across his face.

He didn’t even try to hide how happy he looked to see her.

Y/N’s heart flipped so hard she felt like her whole body shifted a little.

She adjusted her blanket and huddled deeper into it, as if that would dull the pain curling in her stomach. She hated being like this, in pain and helpless. But more than anything, she didn’t wanna bother him. He had a whole show to do.

The sound guy finally gave the thumbs up.

"All good. You're clear to get ready." And just like that, Matt took a step away from the mic.

She tensed. Crap.

He was walking toward her.

She sat up straighter, the most delusional half-sit-up to look like she wasn’t dying. She pulled the blanket slightly lower, tried fixing her face in the most natural way possible - which mostly meant not looking like she was about to cry from cramps -, and tucked her hair behind her ear like that would help anything.

Matt cleared his throat as he dropped into the seat beside her, his whole body radiating warmth like a damn human heater.

His arm draped across the back of her chair, casual but possessive in that way that made her wanna melt. He leaned just close enough that she could smell that clean scent he always had - shampoo and something warm, like cotton and coconut.

She gave in. Shifted just a little and let herself fall into his side.

He didn’t even hesitate, his arm coming around her, locking her in without a word.

"Hey, angel." He said, voice low and soft like she was the only person in the world.

She didn’t answer at first. She was too busy pressing her face against his shoulder, the cotton of his t-shirt cool and grounding against her cheek.

"How y'feeling?" He asked, and she could hear the concern in his voice.

His free hand came up, and the back of his pointer finger grazed her cheek gently. She knew what he was doing, checking how warm she was. His brows knitted together for a second, lips pressing in a little.

She rolled her eyes just the tiniest bit.

"Amazing." She said, dry as hell.

He snorted.

"Yeah?" His smile cracked wide, but his eyes stayed gentle, scanning over her like he could see every ounce of pain. "You look amazing."

His voice dropped soft at the end of that sentence, and he pressed a kiss to her hairline, barely there but everything she needed. She sighed out, a little whimper of frustration getting caught in her throat as she nuzzled deeper into him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. Just let her hide her face while his fingers laced through hers, his pinky ring and commitment ring cool against her skin. His thumb brushed over her hand, steady, comforting.

"You’re in pain." He mumbled eventually, more like a statement than a question.

She opened her eyes again, tearing them away from the stage where Chris was now fake interviewing Nick. She shook her head in disagreement, slow and stubborn.

Matt just looked at her.

"You are."

She sighed, head falling slightly as her fingers from her free hand clenched together in her lap.

He gave her shoulder a tiny shake, still holding onto her.

"Let’s go back to the bus, yeah? You can lay down in our bed."

She stared at him, torn. Her body was like, YES PLEASE GET ME OUT OF HERE. But her heart?

"But I wanted to watch the show..." She mumbled. "Wanted to hear your voice." The pout on her lips came out automatically.

Matt let out a soft laugh, standing up and pulling her with him gently.

"You listen to my voice every day, baby. You’ve watched four shows already."

She kept pouting, even as she let him help her to her feet.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I’ll talk for hours when I get back. You want a personal podcast episode just for you?"

She snorted, finally giving in with a small nod.

Chris and Nick paused their mic play, and both gave them a look as they walked close to the stage. Eyes not teasing, just soft. Knowing. Chris gave her a wink, followed by Nick's soft smile.

Matt led her past the side of the stage and through the back entrance, hand never leaving hers.

The second she stepped into the bus, everything smelled like home. Warm. Familiar. The mix of cologne, perfume, laundry detergent, snacks, and that weird scent every bus had - but theirs, somehow, felt right.

He helped her to the bunk area, stopping at the little side table and pulling out her lil pink necessities bag. He placed it gently on the edge of Chris's bed above his, grabbing the small warm pillow she kept in there for cramps. It was one of those little plushie ones - always warm, no idea how.

Matt knelt in front of her and gently lifted her hoodie. His hand was warm as it placed the pillow on her stomach, adjusting it until it laid just right.

She watched him the whole time, her heart swelling at how careful he was.

He tugged the big shared blanket up over her, then placed Mr. Wrinkleton - their shared fake-fluff pug - beside her hip.

Matt leaned in close, hand cradling her face again, and kissed her forehead once more.

"Get some sleep, sweetheart." He whispered. "I’ll be back before you even miss me."

She hummed, eyelids already heavy, the pain a little dulled under his attention.

"I already miss you." She mumbled.

He laughed softly against her skin.

"You’re so dramatic."

© vanteguccir

[ghcstao3]

ghost who has a pet tarantula. absolutely loves her to bits. he knows she feels no affection toward him the way any conventional pet might, but he doesn’t care. ghost likes to think they’re alike—introverted, not huge on people or touch. they just exist, together.

his favourite moments are when he’s going through paperwork in his office, and she sits in her portable enclosure that he is most certainly not supposed to have on base, let alone the bigger, stationary one in his room. sometimes he’ll leave the lid off and let her climb out, and sometimes she’s interested in the movement of his pen or in climbing up his arm, and that’s all ghost needs in a pet, he thinks. cohabitation. a general understanding of one another’s being.

(soap is initially not a fan, to say the least. it’s not that he’s afraid of spiders, it’s just… a tarantula is of a considerable size for a bug, and when her tank is looming in the corner while he and ghost are cuddling… it takes some getting used to.

slowly but surely, though, soap learns to accept it. he begins to view the spider through ghost’s perspective, and honestly? he finds it kind of cute how much the lieutenant cares for her. how such a small, simple creature can make ghost happy. maybe soap could get a few pointers from the tarantula.)

[kaxela]

kuroo bf headcanons w/ short stories

₍^. .^₎⟆ (kurooxfem!reader)

not proofread.

When you would complain that you're not feeling well, Kuroo would always diagnose you + come up with the perfect solution to your problem. EVERYTIME.

"Babe," You cry out. "I'm not feeling well for some reason. Like, I feel dizzy?"

This man runs up to you all worried. He starts putting the back of his hand to your forehead. He kind of ponders what may be wrong, and then has his little aha moment.

"Did you eat anything at all today?"

"No-"

You were going to add on more, but that 'no' was all he needed to hear. He swiftly digs into into his cross-sling bag. He frickin' pulls out a convenient banana and just hands it to you.

"Low blood sugar, babe. Here ya go."

Okay, I don't know why. I totally see Kuroo playing basketball here and there. Except it's just for fun and not competitive compared to his volleyball. He loves bringing you out to play with him.

The two of you were at a local park near your home. You were neck to neck with him at a game of basketball. Kuroo could be absolutely insufferable as a defender.

Just before you think you're able to shoot the ball in the hoop, he easily defends your shot.

"Bam!" He exclaims as the ball flies back to his palms. No doubt, he's a middle blocker.

You measly try to smack the ball before he throws a 2-pointer. You fail, miserably. He somehow manages to flawlessly makes it in without the ball hitting the rim.

Moments later . . .

"Kuroo, I want to be able to do dunk." You hop with the ball in your grasp. To no luck, you aren't able to do an insane vertical jump like your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend absolutely dies at the sight of you attempting to be like a D1 basketball player. You swear his hyena laugh could be heard miles away. Without even thinking, he grabs you by the hips and carries you up to the net.

"Go, go, go! Dunk!" Kuroo chants.

Swoosh.

The ball fell right through the hoop. He holds you right back on the ground, and you immediately go in for a hug.

You aren't as skilled as he is, but you're so incredibly grateful that he makes sure you have a good time

You know how he canonically sleeps with two pillows smushed to his face. He would definitely use your thighs to do the exact same thing.

It was a chilly Thursday evening. There were no major plans for you today. As for right now, you were waiting for Kuroo to come back from his business dinner.

You hear the door unlock, and here came in your boyfriend. His eyes were half-lidded, he lazily threw the house keys on the table. You were excited to see him, but a little shocked to see him come back so soon.

"Oh, you're back home so soon. Did you guys end up drinking?" You question.

He shakes his head, "Nah, I didn't feel like it," Kuroo slumps on the sofa alongside with you. He lets out an exasperated sigh. Something at the dinner must have bummed him out, or he just really had a long day.

"I wanted to spend the rest of the night with you. Plus, I'm kind a tired." He stretches his arms out and lets out a huge yawn.

Admittedly, your face slowly turns beet red. You were happy to hear that your boyfriend wanted to spend his time with you for tonight.

You reach over to him and begin patting his hair, and massage his scalp. Kuroo hums to your gentle movements and surrenders to your touch. He closes his eyes and begins laying your body down on the sofa.

"I'll just take a quick nap, kay?..."

You were just a teensy bit flustered, but you let him rest up. You always end up being swayed by this man's devilish handsome looks.

Over and over again.

You move his bangs over to the side to get a good look of his face. You always notice his face is so relaxed and pretty when he's just resting, eyes closed. Unexpectedly, Kuroo gently purrs and grabs your legs closer to his head.

His hands wrap around your thighs and he wedges his head between them.

"Um, Tetsu?"

No response. All you can hear the next second is soft in and out breaths come out of him. You giggle a little, however this position felt just a little suggestive. You would feel so bad to just wake him up now, so you kind of just let him have his way with you.

[ca1tlynsgf]

"youre so pretty like this, vi"

blurb of strapping vi for the first time ❤︎

warnings: sub!vi x dom fem!reader, vi's a virgin, strap use (duh), use of pet names, established relationship minors dni

you harnessed the strap onto your hips, vi's pale blue eyes watching nervously. the navy blue strap you both picked out looked fine in the store; it looked fine when she thought it was going to be used on you.

"..baby.. i dunno.." she laid underneath you on the bed, bandaged elbows propped up. her form was completely bare, where yours was almost fully clothed.

"let me make you feel good, vi," your knees shuffled on the sheets as you crept closer to her entrance. your finger tips caressed her little bud, making her shiver and flatten her mouth in a tight line. "if you dont like it we can stop, okay? i just wanna try it out" your voice was soft, enticing.

vi nodded her head and closed her eyes as you collected her wetness onto the strap, gliding it through her folds.

slowly, carefully- you entered her hole. she never has anyone or thing inside, so it was a particularly tight fit.

"ffffuck, baby- slower, please" she hissed in pain as you stretched her out.

her eyes shut closed and her head fell back onto the pillows, hands covering her face.

your thrusts were soft and calculated, careful not to hurt her anymore than you already were.

"sweet girl, youre so tight" you caressed her face and slid deeper, forcing a small whimper out of vi. "i know, i know, shh.."

tears pricked her eyes as she listened to your words. you kissed along her jaw, the spots where she liked it most, and you went back to circling her clit. anything to distract your poor baby from the huge cock shes taking.

after another few minutes, vi found herself moving with you. her hips bucked for more once the tip hit that pretty little spot inside.

"mmffh.. faster- move faster.."

a forceful thrust and you bottomed out inside of her, forcing her to jolt up and emit a broken sob. your name was all she could think about, you filled all five of her senses.

you watched in awe as she sucked you in, her little pussy adorned with pinkish hair trembling.

"youre so pretty like this, vi," you moved to her nipples, pinching them with the pads of your pointer and thumb. "so sensitive, hmm? taking it soo well"

vi kept whimpering at your praise-- nothing she loved more than you telling her how well shes doing, whether its her fucking you or her in the pit. her brain short circuits.

"oh fuckfuckmmmfg im so- keep going!" her scarred hands grabbed at your waist to pull you closer to her core, forcing you to move even deeper.

her hair was splayed along the white pillowcase, her eyebrows cinched together, that pretty mouth open in an o shape. she couldnt take much more, the knot in her stomach was about to snap.

her nails dug into you as you filled her, and soon enough

"imn cumming, shit- baby-!" her muscular back arched off the bed and you grinned to yourself at your strong, pitfighting girlfriend, whimpering your name underneath you.

"thatsss it, good girl," you slowed down and let her come back to earth. "youre so good, violet"

you kissed up her neck and felt her jack-hammer of a pulse underneath her soft skin. her eyes were shut, fucked out expression on her face. you kissed up until you reached her lips, licking the scar near her cupids bow.

"youre cute like this, yknow."

she hummed in response and wrapped her sweaty arms around you, instantly rolling you over and pulling you under her.

the strap was still connected to your hips, but she just held you in her grasp and let herself calm down.

her cheeks were pink as you wiped her hair from her slick forehead.

"can..... can we go again, baby?"

she didnt have to ask twice.

[starkeyisthelastname]

can you please do the reader riding rafe so hard and her tits are bouncing in his face and just very messy

Rafe had always preferred ass over tits for the most part. He wasn’t against a good handful of jugs, but liked a girl with a thick backside better. That was until he met your pretty little self and you started riding his dick like a fuckin champ. It was quite the sight to see such a gorgeous pair of tits bouncing in his face every time you rode him.

That’s exactly what he was enjoying now. Your cunt deliciously wrapped around his huge length and heavy breasts bouncing around as you slid back down. He laid back against the headboard, letting you work on his cock all while he enjoyed the beautiful view in front of him.

“Shit.. ya there you go. Riding dick like a fucking like a pro, huh?” Rafe grinned, hearing the sounds of your sloppily cunt. His hands couldn’t help but come up to squeeze your mounds, thumbs running over your perky nipples. The little squeak you made had him smirking, blue eyes flashing as you came down on his dick hard.

“You like that shit?” He asked, voice rough as he roughly grabbed them together in his massive palms. His buzzed head leaned down, spitting a thick glob of salvia on each one before taking your left nipple into his mouth. He couldn’t help but groan, sucking harshly on the sensitive bud as his thumb and pointer finger tweaked the other.

You let out a loud moan, filled to the brim by the biggest dick you had ever had inside you while your boyfriend greedily sucked on your tits. The way he stared up at you with those blue eyes had your cunt clenching around thick rod, lower tummy fluttering at the mess you were about to make.

“Rafe! I- I’m gonna cum!” Your poor voice strained as you had put in all the work this time. You could feel yourself start to slow down, losing energy as your orgasm was hitting like a freight train. “Nah- keep riding slut. I’m not fuckin playing with you.” Rafe’s tone harsh as he yanked your sensitive nipples.

You yelped, digging your manicured nails into his broad chest as you sped up again the best your body would let you. It didn’t take much for you to reach your peak, soon squirting all over his cock and the sheets below. It was messy to say the least, tits covered in his spit and bodies covered in your juices all within a span of a few minutes. That’s exactly how you two nasty freaks liked it though, knowing in a few seconds you would be fucked all over again.